#so she can’t really be worried about MC too

[yourqueenb]

And before anyone says anything, this is not me saying that what’s happening with Nia shouldn’t be acknowledged or that she doesn’t deserve concern, help, and care. She absolutely does. Girl had her own immensely traumatic experience after all.

I’m just saying that PB often acts like they can’t handle multiple issues at once, so something/someone always ends up getting brushed to the side. And I wouldn’t be surprised if that happens here.

Also while we’re on the topic, I find it a bit weird that Nia has been showing a lack of concern for MC along with everyone else in our group — because she is the one out of everyone who should understand and be able to empathize the most

[domjaehyun]

the boy is mine (l.dh) — part two

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 20.3k CONTENTS. infidelity, alcohol & weed consumption (MC is a non-smoker if that matters to you), explicit smut (dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, oral (receiving), rimming (receiving), groping/frottage, marking, spit play, (brief) ear play, breast play, creampies/unprotected sex (if you explicitly need me, a stranger on the internet, to tell you not to fuck raw, you are not responsible enough to be reading this. move along now), snowballing, public sex, car sex, riding, bratty dom-leaning switch!haechan, bratty sub-leaning switch!reader, sweet dom!jeno, face riding, handjob, overstimulation (receiving), praise kink (receiving), light degradation kink (giving), mating press, morning sex) NOTES. here’s part two!! important to note: part 2 picks up from the same day as part 1 ends on! i hope you enjoy it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) i would also greatly appreciate tips if you really liked it :3 THANK YOU LIKE THE HUUUUUGEST THANK YOU TO BRI (@jalitepng) FOR BETA READING THIS BIG OL FIC :D  PLAYLIST. the boy is mine - ariana grande // fantasize - ariana grande (unreleased) // lowkey (feat. erykah badu) - teyana taylor // agora hills - doja cat // pussy is mine - miguel // softest touch - khalid // cut - tori kelly // seatbelt - josh levi // often - doja cat // surrender - nbdy

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

The subway’s more packed than usual as you all head back to your and Yunjin’s apartment, the nine of you getting so separated that you can’t even see anyone from your friend group besides Yunjin, who’s standing in front of you with her bag in your lap.

“Be careful with him.” Yunjin’s voice and its underlying warning cuts through your reverie and catches your attention on the moderately packed subway car. 

“With who?” you ask, hoping it’s not who you’re thinking about—but, really, who else could it possibly be about?

She rolls her eyes. “Haechan.” she stresses his name, watching carefully to see your reaction. When you remain neutral in expression, she relaxes slightly, seemingly satisfied. “You two disappeared from the museum group, like, immediately, and when you magically reappear, he’s giving you bedroom eyes and you won’t even meet his gaze.”

”He keeps talking about getting closer to me.” you admit quietly, and she raises her eyebrows.

”Yeah, well, don’t let him get too close. He’s not on the market.”

”It’s not like that—” you start, but stop halfway.

For me. It’s not like that for me.

Which, of course, begs two questions: what is it for you? What does Haechan think it is?

You shift uncomfortably in your seat before sighing loudly and waving her off dismissively.

”Don’t worry,” you assure her, smiling confidently for good measure. “I’ve got my eye on him.”

“Well, he’s definitely got his on you, too, so look out.” she chuckles, and you frown.

“Well, why don’t you talk to him, then?” you ask. “Tell him to stop… exhibiting behaviors and acting in ways.”

She looks at you for a moment, almost like she can’t comprehend what she’s looking at. 

“I am gonna tell him to stop looking at you with heart eyes, especially right in front of his girlfriend. I was on the fence about it because he and I aren’t crazy close, though.” she worries aloud, nibbling her bottom lip.

The train comes to a stop, the doors open, and the man beside you stands and exits the train, Yunjin immediately plopping down in the now empty space.

“That might make it better,” you muse. “If you’re not even that close to him and you come up to him all stern and ‘keep your distance,’ then he might listen!”

“Or he might tell me to mind my business.” she points out with a wry smile, and you pause, thinking it over.

“He might not—well— …Well, all we can do is take it one day at a time and see how it pans out.” you say, the anxious feeling in your chest fading by the minute.

“So true,” Yunjin agrees as she leans back to rest her head on the wall behind her.

As if the universe chose this moment to display its excellent timing, the doors open at the next stop and a small group of men get on, all holding instruments. 

“Oh, no.” you mumble as the doors close and the men get into position. Within seconds, loud mariachi music fills the subway car and Yunjin jolts awake from her almost-slumber, her eyes wide in alarm.

You and Yunjin look at each other, exchanging wordless glances.

“The next stop is walking distance to the house,” Yunjin observes, and you wrinkle your nose at the thought of walking the rest of the way home.

“We can just switch cars in the opposite direction they go in.” you suggest, and she nods in agreement. 

“Good plan.” Yunjin leans back against the wall and puts her headphones in both of her ears, with you following suit moments later.

As you two wait for the next stop, you listen to your music, attempting to drown out the raucous band in the subway car less than fifteen feet from you. As the song ‘Lowkey’ by Teyana Taylor and Erykah Badu starts to play, you find yourself getting lost in the music, immersing yourself in the melody and lyrics. 

got a question for you if i let you, would you make a move? (make a move, make a move) what you're doin' to me, feel like you're feelin' me i think i feel you too

You grimace, the lyrics hitting a bit too close to home, but keep listening anyway.

lowkey want you by my side and i know you're down to ride but you don't belong to i know you're just a friend of mine but i’m wanting more inside and i know it feels so good but it also ain't right—

You finally skip the song with a deep set scowl and, as Megan Thee Stallion comes on shuffle, try not to think about the devilishly handsome male that seems to be hellbent on getting your attention, both consciously and subconsciously.

“What are we ordering, by the way?” Yunjin asks as she sprawls out on your couch. “I’m thinking of that little halal truck nearby; they’ve got all sorts of stuff, but I just want lamb and rice.”

“What about that even better halal place like 20 minutes away?” you offer, and various murmurs of agreement sound out.

“Yeah, but I kind of don’t want to wait for them.” Yunjin frowns, and you mirror her expression. 

“You have to wait anyway; why not wait a little longer for objectively better food?” you suggest.

She looks up thoughtfully. “I mean, yeah…” She turns slightly to address the group, asking, “what do you guys think?”

“I’m down for halal a little further away,” Haechan chimes in immediately, and you bite back a snicker at his readiness to agree with you.

Gradually, everyone makes their divided choices in food and you and Yunjin place the orders for delivery before trying to settle on something to watch.

“If we watch something scary, literally who is going to hold me?” Chenle complains, and you snicker loudly.

“Mark can hold you,” you offer, and he glowers at you before looking over at Mark, who’s already shaking his head.

“So much for that.” Chenle groans.

“Y’know, does the movie we watch tonight have to be scary?” Seulgi pipes up, and you shake your head.

“I don’t think so! It could be a comedy or something; it doesn’t even have to be Halloween themed.” you answer, and she nods in understanding.

“We could watch Hocus Pocus, though…” Jeno suggests, trailing off but still hopeful.

“Hocus Pocus is so good, actually?” you say in slow realization, and Jeno beams, happy to be heard.

“How about we start with Hocus Pocus and watch, like, Twitches next?” Mark suggests, and you all manage to agree, everyone else settling in on the couch and the floor as Yunjin starts loading up the movie. 

“Is there a specific reason why we’re watching Halloween movies in the peak of spring?” Haechan asks curiously.

“Same reason I’m having a Halloween party in the peak of spring,” you explain. “I love dressing up and missed my chance to celebrate with my friends when I was abroad, so I’m doing it now.”

Your phone buzzes, so you check it to see a notification that the halal restaurant has received and is preparing your order. 

“Do we wanna start the movie now or when the food actually gets here?” you question, and there’s a pause as everyone stops to think. 

“Yeah. we should wait,” Chaewon agrees, and you smile.

“In the meantime, I’m going to keep decorating.” you announce, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

“Need any help?” Jeno asks, and you spot Haechan from the corner of your eye as he turns his head to watch you two intently.

“Mm, no, I should be fine,” you assure him, squeezing his forearm gently (and marveling at how defined and solid his muscles are). 

“Okay,” he says, sounding slightly disappointed, but still shoots you a bright smile. “Let me know if you change your mind?”

“Will do,” you promise with a smile before turning on your heel and continuing your route to the kitchen, doing your best to ignore the way you can practically feel Haechan’s gaze on your retreating back.

You make your way to your kitchen drawer, pulling out the decorative banner you finished making last night and heading to your apartment doorway, starting to attach the letters to the wall so any guests that enter will see it instantly.

You’ve already made decent progress in preparing for the party, various cobwebs decoratively strewn around the living room and black silhouettes of bats tastefully hung on the walls. You’re not big on the decorations, but you do want it to feel like it’s a Halloween party, so here you are.

You have a relatively clear vision for how you want your apartment to look, and you don’t necessarily need anyone’s help making your vision come to life. That’s precisely why you freeze when Haechan’s presence appears from beside you as he observes your handiwork.

“What are you doing, Haechan?” Your words are questioning, but your voice is flat and unamused as he picks up a set of cobweb fluff and starts detangling it.

He grins at you, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Getting myself an invite to your Halloween party by helping out.”

Turning your nose up, you sniff in disdain and turn back around to affix the next letters in your “Trick or Treat” sign. “Who says I’m inviting you?”

“We’re friends?” He says it like you’re stupid, and you narrow your eyes even though he can’t see you. 

“Your girlfriend is my friend.” you point out all without turning around. “Remember her?”

He scoffs. “Do you?”

You look back at him indignantly, setting down your letters and turning to face him fully. In the limited space between you two, Haechan leans forward with a little challenging glint in his eye. “What kind of dumbass question is that? I brought her up!”

He steps closer, placing his hands on either side of your frame, a devilishly handsome smirk curling his lips. “But you’re still here.”

“This is my home… that I’m decorating for my party… why would I leave?”

“You know damn well what I mean.”

He’s got you there. You roll your eyes in the hope of masking your defeat. “So?” you huff.

“A good friend would have left me over here by now.” He lifts his eyebrows as if to drive his point home. 

You’re lost for words, opening and closing your mouth to voice a rebuttal that never comes. His eyes glint with mischief and victory, but you can’t find it in you to be annoyed with him. 

“Well,” you sniff, turning your nose up, “a good boyfriend wouldn’t be over here to begin with.”

He chuckles, his head tipping back as his shoulders shake with amusement. Nodding slowly, he leans closer to you as if he isn’t already entirely invading your personal space. “Touché,” he murmurs with a grin, and his plain, bold, unapologetic admission of guilt takes you by surprise as well as intrigues you. 

“Well, we’re both bad,” you reply carefully, nibbling at your bottom lip absentmindedly. 

(You do not miss the way his gaze drops to your mouth and lingers there with an almost palpable longing. Hopefully, he misses the way you almost do the same.)

i want it but this ain’t the right time

“Yeah,” he mumbles in agreement, and you truly don’t think you’ve ever seen someone want to kiss you as badly as he does. He’s looking at you like it’s all he’s ever thought about—looking at you like one kiss could save his life, like your lips have the answer to a question he’s always wondered, and the slow creeping in of the realization has your body warming with desire. 

but damn it, you’re so fine so take me tonight

“What now?” you ask, voice husky with want, and he blinks, gaze flicking up to your eyes and from the way his stare intensifies, you know you’ve been found out. 

now hold me a lot on the line, please don’t play with my mind

“We can at least be bad together,” he supplies unhelpfully, a devious little grin curling his lips as he leans closer to you. 

ooh, i gotta decline

In the distance, someone laughs loudly—you’re willing to bet it’s Mark—and the realization of your surroundings and just how dangerous this is has you pressing a hand to his chest and pushing him back gently. 

He doesn’t move at first, and you watch as the slight pressure of your manicured nails into his chest sends his eyes rolling back into his head. When he refocuses on you, his eyes are heavy-lidded with intensity and you swallow thickly. 

“You’re flirting.” you warn him, barely able to conceal your growing amusement. 

He grins at the sight of you trying to hide your smile and the tension eases, so you use the opportunity to push more firmly and separate the two of you. You turn back around to put up the last two letters of your sign, only for his sudden presence right by your ear to send you jolting. He whispers his message so quickly and quietly you could have almost missed it, but the words linger in your mind, echoing off the walls until it’s all you can think about. 

“You’re letting me.”

As you continue to decorate your apartment, Haechan comes around far more often than you think necessary—either calling himself “assisting” in small ways with lingering touches—

(“Haechan, you’re not slick,” you huff as he brushes up behind you for far too long, allegedly helping you hang a cobweb, “you’re pressing up against me.”

Instead of moving back, his lips find your ear and he murmurs, audibly grinning, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“If you don’t get—” you scoff, turning to swat at him, but he dances away smoothly, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.)

—or making flirtatious remarks—

(“Hey, do you have gum?” Haechan asks seemingly out of the blue, and you set your decorations down before heading to your cupboard and offering him two cubes of gum from your little stash. “Thanks,” he grins as he pops the gum into his mouth and chews.

“Gum’s gonna ruin your appetite,” you warn him. “The food’s almost here.”

“I don’t want it for long,” he assures you, and you raise your eyebrows as if to say, “Is that so?”

“So you plan on wasting my gum?” you ask with playfully narrowed eyes, and he shakes his head, coming closer and closer to you until he’s got you cornered against the counter. 

“Never that,” he promises. “Just wanted an idea of what it’d taste like to kiss you.”

You gasp, successfully making contact with his chest when you swipe at him this time, pushing him back so he’s resting against your kitchen island about three feet from you. “Haechan!”

“Would you rather I do this, or should I just come a little closer and find out for myself?” he asks with his eyebrows raised, and you balk, swallowing thickly.

“Stay back and chew.” you quip, and he grins, making a loud, obnoxious show of chewing his gum.

“Tastes good,” he compliments, and you roll your eyes. “Really good.”

“Get out before I launch something at you,” you threaten, but both sets of ears can hear the emptiness behind it.

Haechan has the nerve to giggle mischievously before obliging and exiting the kitchen, leaving you to sigh loudly and attempt to calm the heat rising to your cheeks.) 

—or just being an overall flirt.

(“So, what are you gonna be for your Halloween party?” he asks as you bustle around your kitchen tidying up the leftover decoration equipment you’ve left out.

“Haechan, all our friends—and your girlfriend—are in the next room.”

“And?”

“And,” you continue, glowering at him, “you should be in there, too.”

“But you’re in here.” he points out.

“I’m busy.” you explain, and he shrugs.

“Well, then I’m busy, too.” he echoes.

You blink at him. “Doing what?”

“Entertaining you? Keeping you company?” he answers slowly, like you’re dumb, and you can’t help but narrow your eyes.

“I’m not entertained.” you deadpan, and he snorts.

“Then why do you keep looking over here?” He raises an eyebrow challengingly, and you huff.

“You’re distracting me,” you complain, and he frowns, picking up a forkful of food and offering it to you.

“I’m nourishing you,” he insists, offering the food more insistently.

“I have my own food,” you brush him off, and he rolls his eyes.

“Mine is different. And possibly even better.” he sing-songs. “Now try.”

“Haechan—”

“I’m about to spill rice and sauce all over your neat and tidy floor if you don’t put this fork in your mouth in the next three seconds.” he warns, and you growl in mild irritation before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his fork. “Isn’t that good?” he asks eagerly, fully aware of the answer, and you can’t help but nod in agreement, the flavors of the chicken, rice, and white sauce dancing on your tongue as you chew and swallow. 

“You have a hard time taking no for an answer.” you point out dryly, staring at him blankly. “Does this crop up in other aspects of your life?”

He bursts out laughing. “I definitely have a hard time taking no, but only if the person saying no clearly means yes.”

You scoff incredulously and cross your arms, leaning against the counter as you regard him.

“And how, pray tell, would you know if they mean yes, all-knowing Reader of Minds?”

He steps closer and slowly places his hands on either side of you, meeting your gaze with a soft intensity that you find more unnerving than the more lust-filled gazes he’s sent your way.

“It’s in their body language. For example: you always say you want me to step back and get out of your space, but you let me get into your space virtually every time.” His voice lowers to a soft murmur, and you suddenly can’t meet his gaze. “It’s the way you still haven’t moved either one of us despite me bringing to your attention how close we are.” he observes. “It’s also,” he says, tilting your head up by the chin so you’re looking at each other, “in the eyes.”

Your mouth feels dry. “The eyes?”

He nods, gently brushing a piece of hair from your face and stroking your cheek gently before lowering his hand. “Like the way you look at my lips after I look at yours.”

Fuck.

“I don’t know what you mean.” you lie, and he chuckles.

“It’s okay, baby. I know exactly what I’m talking about.” he assures you with such a level of confidence that it takes you aback. “Y’know, sometimes, I catch you looking before I’ve even looked.”

“Wh— don’t you have someone else you can entertain, or keep company, or—or nourish?” you complain, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

“You want me to go?” he asks, keen eyes bright and studying your reaction.

“Yes.” you reply immediately, and he, contrary to your expectations, grins. 

“I’ll go, I guess. I suppose I could spare those guys a crumb of attention.” he relents, and you nod eagerly.

“Give ‘em the whole loaf of attention.” you say, and he rolls his eyes with a smile.

“I’m going, I’m going. But by the way,” he says before he leans closer, prompting you to lean back suddenly in alarm, “I know you lied.”

He exits the room just a moment after, a second too late to catch the surprise on your face at his catching you in your bluff.

You groan inwardly and finish tidying up your kitchen to head into the living room, all the while wondering if Haechan was sent by the universe to teach you some sort of divine lesson.)

It’s later in the evening and you’re all sitting around the living room when Winter stretches and yawns, sitting up slightly in her seat. 

“All that food made me tired,” she laughs and you can feel Haechan’s body tense slightly beside you, the male sitting up a little straighter as he waits—for what, you don’t know, but he seems to find it inevitable. “I think I’m gonna head home in a bit,” she says with a small frown, and it’s actually upsetting the way Haechan deflates. Looking over at Haechan from across the room, she smiles hopefully. “Will you take me home?”

Haechan nods with a small, tight-lipped smile that you’re surprised his own girlfriend can’t see through. Winter stands, saying something about freshening up, and heads down the hallway, Haechan waiting for her retreating figure to disappear before he sighs deeply.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” Haechan mumbles, shooting a loaded glance in your direction before standing up as well and stretching before heading to your apartment’s entryway to get his coat and shoes.

You stand and head over to the kitchen to put away your now empty container of food, only slightly aware of Seulgi following after you.

“I feel kind of bad for Haechan,” you say with a frown, and Seulgi hums in acknowledgement.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” she asks, and if you’re not mistaken, there’s something more to her tone, something that feels like she’s leading you to understand something, but you’re not entirely sure what she’s hinting at, so you just brush it off.

”I mean, he clearly doesn’t wanna leave yet.” you reply, and she hums again, longer than before. 

“Did he tell you that?” she questions, and you pause, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“He didn’t have to,” you answer slowly. “I could tell just from looking at him.”

“I see,” she replies with a nod, and you slowly resume your task of tidying up until she asks, “do you do that often?”

“Seulgi, please stop speaking in code.” you half-chuckle, half-sigh. “Do I do what?”

“Look at him.”

You tilt your head, taken aback and more confused than before and, suddenly, a bit defensive. “No more than the average person?”

“You sure about that?” she asks carefully and you set the now cleaned out container down a bit harder than you meant to before you turn to look at her.

“Seulgi. What are you hinting at?” you decide to come right out with it, not a fan of dodging the actual topic. 

“Don’t you think it’s kind of… weird… how Haechan keeps paying attention to you and, like, not his girlfriend?” she asks finally, and it takes everything in you not to react visibly.

“I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.” you fib, and she raises her eyebrow skeptically. “You got all this from me saying the guy doesn’t wanna go home?”

“I got all this from him. The way he looks at you, the way he deliberately makes it his mission to sit beside or near you all the time or find any reason to sneak off with you…” she trails off, and you’re silent for a moment before sighing. “I’m just saying to be careful.”

“I just got back, Seulgi—I’m not trying to ruffle any feathers.” you say sincerely, and she nods, seemingly satisfied. 

“I’m more worried about him trying to fly the coop.” she chuckles, albeit a bit worriedly, and you nod.

“I get you,” you reply. “I’ll be careful.”

She puts her hands up in surrender. “Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

But as she leaves the kitchen, you can’t help but wonder if it’s too late. 

“Not to be dramatic,” you start, “but if Mr. Insufferable doesn’t leave soon, things might get violent.” 

“Don’t say that!” your favorite library volunteer says. “He’s definitely leaving soon.”

“Oh, and one more thing—” an all too familiar voice emerges seemingly from the shadows, and your lovely little volunteer flinches before looking around anxiously.

“Save yourself,” you reply glumly. “I’ll talk to him, just reshelve these books for me?”

She obliges, pushing the cart towards the bookshelves, and you spin around in your chair, confirming that your annoying-as-all-hell boss is, in fact, approaching before turning back around and resuming your work.

“When will you be checking these books back in?” he asks with thinly veiled impatience as he gestures at the stack of books still left on the counter.

“Given that I’ve been checking books back in for the past fifteen minutes,” you reply just as bluntly, “in a second.”

“Well, make sure they go back right. You’re not in Oxford anymore—I’m not intimately aware of their filing system, but over here we enjoy the good ol’ Dewey Decimal system.”

You sigh heavily. “They use the Dewey Decimal system.” Your response is flat and thoroughly unamused, even as your boss laughs obnoxiously.

“Do they really?” your boss exclaims, surprised. “Well, let’s hope you remember—”

“I’m not going to magically forget the entirety of how to do my job after spending several months abroad doing… my literal job.” you retort brusquely.

Your boss is silent for a moment and you fear you’ve gone too far before he hums thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s fair. Well, I’m off for the night. I expect every task assigned to you to be completed when I return.”

“Night.” you mutter bitterly, and he bids you a curt goodbye before exiting the library. You wait for the door to shut fully before heaving a large sigh and collapsing against your chair. “‘I’m not intimately aware of their filing system—’ Well, how about you become intimately aware of my foot up your ass—” you grumble to yourself.

While you’re slightly less annoyed in your boss’s absence, you’re now… bored. Your favorite volunteer is the only other one on the clock with you right now, and reshelving those books will take her at least an hour, leaving you alone and understimulated.

Almost as if the universe could hear your pleas for entertainment, the door of the library opens and in walks none other than Jeno and Haechan. Jeno locks eyes with you instantly, offering a bright smile and a wave, while Haechan scans the room until his eyes finally land on you behind the desk and he grins, shooting you a surreptitious wink that has you struggling not to roll your eyes.

They finally approach the desk, Jeno leaning his torso against it while Haechan rests his elbow on the counter and rests his chin in his palm, and you can’t help but smile at their bright dispositions. 

“Hey, guys! What brings you to the library?” you greet them.

“I just finished taking my lunch and thought I’d stop by to say hi before my next class.” Jeno explains, and you hum in understanding.

“What about you?” you ask Haechan curiously, trying to hide your suspicion, and he smiles wider, a glint in his eyes that confirms your hunch that he’s up to no good.

“I don’t start work at the restaurant for another two hours, so I was walking around outside and I ran into Jeno over here, and we got to talking, and he told me he was coming to see you, so I thought, ‘Hey; can’t pass that opportunity up.’” Haechan replies, his nonchalant tone completely contrasting the intent, almost longing way he’s staring at you; he’s so intense, as a matter of fact, that you have no choice but to break eye contact and look back at Jeno, who seems to be none the wiser of what just happened.

“Great,” you say slowly, a hesitant smile making its way to your lips. “Well, welcome to our lovely library.”

“You gonna give us a tour?” Haechan asks with a playful smile, and you snicker as you shake your head.

“No, because that would involve moving from my very comfortable chair.” you reply, and he pouts.

“Come on, I’ll push you around and you direct me!” he offers, and you snort.

“I think if these students saw their librarian being pushed around in a computer chair by some guy, they’d lose all respect for me, and we can’t have that.” you sigh.

“That’s fair, I guess,” Jeno chimes in. “Well, what are you up to?”

“I was reading some astrology hot takes online,” you confess with a sheepish smile. “Nothing too important.”

“I don’t know much about astrology,” Jeno admits with a bashful laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just know I’m a Taurus, but I don’t know what that means.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a Taurus,” you agree with a nod. “That’s a good thing, by the way—at least, it is to me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jeno asks, and you nod.

“Well, just off the top of my head, Tauruses are often reliable, honest, steadfast, and have a special appreciation for the finer things in life.” you explain. “Basically like the perfect partner, if you ask me.” 

As Jeno’s cheeks redden from the compliment, Haechan scowls deeply and sucks his teeth.

“Boring! Where’s the excitement? What about Geminis?” he asks, and you blink slowly at him before sighing loudly and dramatically.

“Geminis are dynamic social butterflies and have a bad reputation for being two-faced and disloyal.” you say, meeting Haechan’s gaze with a challenge in your eyes. 

“I’m not two-faced!” he protests, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Are we admitting to being disloyal, king?” you tease, and Jeno chuckles as Haechan huffs. “Jeno’s Taurus ass could never,” you point out, and Haechan bristles at yet another comparison to the male beside him.

“Jeno’s Taurus ass wouldn’t know a good time if it smacked him upside the head.” he mutters bitterly, and Jeno frowns.

“Jeno’s Taurus ass can and frequently does have a wonderful time at parties,” you retort, turning to the male in question. “Isn’t that right, Jeno?”

“Yeah, I love a good party,” he says with a wistful smile. 

“Geminis are the life of the party.” Haechan counters smugly, continuing on as if Jeno hadn’t spoken. “We’re fun and spontaneous—”

“Are you spontaneous, or are you just impulsive and reckless?” you ask, feigning curiosity. 

Haechan’s eyes flash with something bright and intense. “My hindsight happens to be 20/20.”

“Isn’t everyone’s?” you drawl, bored. “Well, Jeno’s Taurus ass—”

“Oh, brother,” Haechan groans.

“—can look before he leaps and therefore not wind up busting his ass.”

“Yeah, well, Jeno’s Taurus ass has no ass, so—”

“Hey!” Jeno squawks indignantly.

“Now what did that have to do with anything, you brute?” you round on Haechan, who’s grinning with satisfaction.

“Of course he’s not gonna bust his ass—he has no ass to begin with!” Haechan snickers, and Jeno crosses his arms, brows furrowing.

“If I’d known I was just gonna get ass-shamed, I wouldn’t have brought you here.” Jeno gripes at Haechan, and you turn your attention to him with an apologetic smile.

“Jeno, Haechan’s just jealous.” you say, and Haechan snorts loudly.

“Of what? His long back?”

“Haechan, shut up—” you turn to glare at him and he, unseen by Jeno, shoots you a dazzling grin and a wink that, unfortunately for you, seems to be nothing short of debilitating as you suck in a sharp breath and freeze momentarily in place.

You’ve gotta hand it to him; Haechan really is charming.

You’re pulled out of your momentary daze when Haechan clears his throat pointedly, snapping you out of it enough to realize that you’ve been staring directly at Haechan for the past minute or so. His gaze is teasing, playful—sultry, even—as he lifts his eyebrows expectantly.

“You good?” he asks slowly, and you narrow your eyes at him, huffing slightly and looking towards Jeno.

“‘M fine,” you mumble dismissively, and refocus your attention on the slightly sulking male in front of you. “Jeno?”

“Mm?” he hums distractedly, and you catch as Haechan rolls his eyes from the corner of your eye.

“What you may lack in ass, you make up for with your face,” you reassure him, and he chuckles, the sound a bit shy. 

(Slightly off to the side, Haechan makes a loud gagging noise. He is ignored.)

“Yeah?” he asks, and you nod confidently.

“For sure.” you agree earnestly. “Does that make you feel any better?”

“Loads,” he assures you, and you smile.

“Haechan’s a brat, just ignore him—”

“Hey!” Haechan complains, but you keep talking over him.

“—that’s what I do.” you explain, and Jeno laughs good-naturedly, seemingly back in good spirits, before his eyes drift to the wall behind you and his brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“Is that clock accurate?” he asks, pointing at the analog clock behind you as worry creeps into his voice, and you turn to check before turning back around with a nod.

“I mean, it’s a minute or two slow, but aren’t most clocks?” you reply, confused by the shift in conversation.

Jeno unlocks his phone for a second, confirming the time, and his eyes widen in alarm before he stands up straight and starts speed-walking backwards to the exit.

“Oh, shit—I totally lost track of time,” he admits, frowning apologetically. “I have to go get ready for my next class.”

“No worries, Jeno,” you assure him with a warm smile that he returns. “Thank you for coming to visit me; it really means a lot.”

“Anytime. Enjoy work! I’ll see you later.” he bids you farewell, gives Haechan a small two-finger salute, and exits the library, quickly rounding the corner out of sight.

There’s a moment of silence during which you get the feeling that you probably shouldn’t look at Haechan, but he seems to be one step ahead of you, already clearing his throat obnoxiously loudly to get your attention. When you slide your gaze over to him, he’s walking around the desk to join you behind it with a winning smile.

Pointing at the empty rolling chair beside you, he asks, “Is this seat taken?”

“Would you listen to me if I said yes?” you ask, and he chuckles to himself before pulling the chair out and plopping down in it unceremoniously. 

“Nope.”

“Great,” you huff with amusement before turning your attention back to your computer. However, it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore the way Haechan’s gaze practically burns a hole into the side of your face, so you sigh as loudly and dramatically as is socially acceptable in a private school library and look over at him. “What?”

“Why is it that Jeno finally leaves, and you go silent?” he questions, confused.

“‘Finally’ is crazy, actually.” You can’t help but laugh at his bluntness. “That’s your friend!”

“You can’t honestly tell me you’re upset that goober left just now.” he asks, tone bordering on bewildered, and you bark out a laugh at his creative word choice before clapping a hand over your mouth. “See?!”

“He’s not a goober! You’re terrible,” you can’t help but giggle, and he grins widely before he seems to remember something and points at you accusingly.

“You’re the terrible one,” he counters, sniffling dramatically. “You were flirting with him right in front of me!”

“Haechan, that shouldn’t matter to you.” you say with a roll of your eyes. “You have a girlfriend.”

“Well, it does matter to me.” he huffs, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I don’t wanna sit here while you stroke Jeno’s—”

“You’d better finish that sentence with the word ‘ego.’” you warn him, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I was going to.”

“Okay, good.” you reply, blinking at him impassively.

“Great.”

“Wonderful.” 

“Excellent.” Haechan retorts, and you roll your eyes.

“Synonyms.”

Haechan barks out a laugh at that, and it draws a laugh out from you as well, the two of you laughing as quietly as you can manage. When he manages to compose himself, he shoots you a suggestive look, complete with a wiggle of his brows, and turns slightly in his chair so he’s completely facing you. 

“Now that it’s just you and me,” he starts as he rolls his chair closer to yours, hooking his foot around the base of your chair so you can’t roll away, and tilts his head to the side to take in the sight of you. “I just want to say that you look exceptionally good today.”

“Thank you,” you say politely before attempting to turn your chair towards your computer—all to no avail, as Haechan still has you locked in place. “Can I help you?” Something about the ridiculousness of it all has you holding back laughter, which Haechan seems to take as encouragement.

“You’re really cute when you’re annoyed, you know that, right?” he murmurs, tracing circles on the back of your hand. 

“That’s so great to know,” you sigh, dragging out your words for emphasis. “Did you forget I am at my place of work? The very place where I am expected to—and this may come as a shock to you—do work?” 

Haechan’s eyes widen comically in horror. “You’re telling me they make a pretty girl like you do work?”

You bite back a giggle. “Precisely.”

“Oh, the humanity!” he wails, falling back in his chair with the back of his hand to his forehead like he’s fainting, and you can’t hold it back any longer, bursting into a fit of laughter as quiet as you can manage. 

“Will you keep it down? You’re gonna get me in trouble.” you half-whisper, half-scold through your laughter. 

“No, I will not be silenced!” he whispers loudly, and you roll your eyes as your lips tremble to hold back your laugh. “Making pretty girls do work is inhumane. Y’know, I bet there’s a union for that.” he posits, and you snort in amusement.

“Be quiet before I get campus security to kick your butt out.” you warn, looking pointedly at the tall security guard walking by the library’s windows.

“Fine, I’ll lower my voice,” he finally admits defeat, and you sit back in your chair, pleased. “But don’t think I’m done with this.”

“Oh, would you please be done with it, actually?” you ask, batting your lashes coyly for effect. “You’re gonna draw too much attention, and I’m not really supposed to have guests back here.” You frown, bottom lip bordering dangerously on jutting out in a pout, and his gaze visibly softens, a fond smile curling his lips.

“Anything for you,” he relents, raising both hands in surrender, and you snort softly, feeling thoroughly entertained.

“Thanks so much.” you say sincerely, patting his knee and regretting it instantly when his gaze drops to your hand, now tentatively retracting from his leg, and his tongue slowly peeks out to wet his lips. “Haechan, you’re better than this.”

“Am I?” he asks in a murmur, gaze trained on your mouth so unwaveringly that warmth starts to spread throughout your body starting from your center and radiating out. “Are we sure about that?”

“You’d better be,” you warn him, pointing a scolding finger in his direction. “Security will yank you out of here with an old-time cane if you don’t quit being so…”

“So what?” he presses, and you growl under your breath.

“So… unfit for public consumption!” you retort, and he starts to laugh, the surprisingly pleasant sound building from within his chest.

“You’re too cute, seriously.” he chuckles, and you roll your eyes. “I’ll stop. For you.”

“Thanks,” you mutter petulantly, and he waves you off dismissively, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his limbs.

“So—who was that guy you were trying to explode with your mind earlier?” Haechan asks out of the blue, and you turn to him, spluttering defensively.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you huff, and he raises an eyebrow, leaning closer. 

“Do you often look at people like you want to see them suffer?” he asks skeptically, and you falter.

“That was my supervisor who’s not exactly my supervisor but thinks he’s my supervisor so he breathes down my neck all the time when he’s here.” you sigh, and Haechan winces.

“Making sure you’re doing your job?”

“Making sure he’s intimately aware of all the internal affairs of this hallowed library.” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I sent an email to a student about their library book almost being due and he wanted to know why he wasn’t CC’ed.” 

“He sounds like he sucks,” Haechan says sympathetically, and you sigh deeply, already starting to feel better about the situation. “Well, hey, did he leave for the day?”

“He did,” you say with a smile. “I’m free for the next few hours.”

“What are you gonna do with your newfound freedom?” he asks playfully, nudging you with his knee, and you can’t help but smile.

“I don’t know… the world is my oyster now,” you gasp dramatically. 

“The possibilities are endless.” Haechan agrees solemnly. “I’m overwhelmed for you, actually.”

You don’t bother to hold back the snicker that escapes you, and Haechan’s eyes light up at the sound, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You have a cute laugh.” he compliments with a fond smile, and you wrinkle your nose.

“Thanks,” you mutter, slightly skeptical. You think carefully about your interactions today and the words you’ve chosen to say to him. “You know—”

His phone starts to ring out on the table, and he snatches it off the table quickly, frowning.

“Sorry,” he says sincerely as he declines the call. “What were you going to say?” However, the person on the phone doesn’t seem to be done, his phone starting to buzz sporadically as they instead start to text him incessantly. “Jesus Christ—”

“Is it Winter?” you ask worriedly, and his brow furrows at the mention of her name, but he doesn’t comment further.

“No, it’s my coworker,” he answers with a small sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Maybe you should check?” you supply helpfully, and he smiles apologetically at you as he picks up his phone to check his messages, giving you a moment to rethink your idea of telling him he’s starting to grow on you.

After a moment of reading, Haechan frowns deeply and sighs, prompting you to tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” you ask curiously.

“Looks like I gotta go.” he says unhappily, and you catch yourself mirroring his expression. His keen eyes catch your look of disappointment before you can wipe it from your face and he smiles teasingly. “Are you gonna miss me?”

You pause, thinking over your words carefully. “I appreciated the company.” you settle for saying, and Haechan rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, clearly unimpressed.

“You appreciated my company.” he corrects you, and you shrug dismissively, looking back down at your files. “You’re gonna miss me.”

“Am I?”

“Yep,” he says, popping his lips on the “p.” “Now say it.”

“No.”

“Say it,” he presses, and something about the shift in his tone intrigues you—it’s not a plaintive, whining request, as is typical of Haechan, but it’s confident, assertive, and… dominant. 

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you oblige, quietly mumbling, “I’m gonna miss you.”

He grins widely and rolls his chair closer to yours, so close that your knees are touching. “Say it again?”

“Haechan,” you complain, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“I can’t help it,” he defends himself. “You’re just so cute.” His voice drops lower on the last word, his intonation far too suggestive to brush off as a casual remark.

You blink twice, stunned by his forwardness, before you snap out of it and busy yourself with pretending to search for a file on your computer.

“Watch it, Haechan,” you warn finally, and he chuckles, leaning closer with his eyes carefully trained on you.

“I’d rather watch you.”

“Haechan.”

“It’s true.” he persists, shrugging. “You’re quite the looker.”

“Haechan, be quiet.” You desperately need him to shut up before you say something that could get you in trouble.

“I mean, just absolutely gorgeous,” he continues as if you haven’t spoken, and you let out a strangled yelp of alarm, shaking your head vehemently.

“You are so—”

“So what?” he’s on you before you can even properly abandon the sentence, eyes bright with mischief. “I’m so what? Say it.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you remind him weakly, but he continues to stare at you expectantly. 

“So what?”

“So dangerous,” you finish lamely, and he grins wider, sitting back in his chair as he radiates satisfaction.

“And you like that,” he says, watching you closely. “Don’t you?”

A beat of silence passes between you two before you sigh heavily. “If I say yes, will you stop tormenting me?”

He wiggles his eyebrows flirtatiously. “Only if you mean it.”

You growl under your breath and pinch the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes tightly before releasing a deep breath and reopening your eyes. “Maybe I like it a little bit.” You bring your index finger and thumb together in a pinching gesture with a minuscule amount of space between them. “This much.”

“Mm, yeah? Only that much?” he teases, and you glower at him.

“Only that much,” you assert, and his eyes scan your frame slowly, his tongue swiping along his lips leisurely as his gaze lingers on your lips, and you suck your teeth, reaching over and pushing his chair away from yours. “You have somewhere to be!” 

“Fine, I’ll go,” he finally relents, standing up from his chair, and you sigh in relief. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Mm, maybe,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug, attempting to recover some of your composure, and he fixes you in place with a disapproving scowl. “Haechan, get out before I throw this book at you.”

“I’m going,” he insists, heading for the door. He turns back just as he’s about to exit and says with a mischievous grin, “and you’re going to miss me.”

“Haechan, go!”

“I’ll miss you, too, by the way.” he says sincerely, and you act as if you’re reaching for the book to throw it at him, so he ducks out of the doorframe, his delighted laughter slowly fading as he leaves.

You sit there for a moment, desperately trying to calm the warmth in your cheeks and the smile that threatens to take over your whole face.

He really is dangerous.

Far, far, far later in the evening, you’re bored at home, Yunjin has gone to sleep for the night, and you have a gurgling feeling in your stomach that has your mind wandering to food options.

“What’s still open this late, though?” you mumble, scrolling through food delivery apps before a thought comes to you. Getting up from your couch, you excitedly step into your shoes and grab your wallet, keys, and coat before heading downstairs to the local Mexican food truck on your block.

The night air is expectedly brisk at 2:30am, so you pull your coat tighter around you as you purposefully speed-walk to the end of your block towards the bright lights of the truck currently serving guests. For a mobile shop, it’s surprisingly welcoming, with two tables with chairs set up in front of where you take orders, and the smells of meats and spices waft through the air, making your mouth water in anticipation.

You catch the eye of one of the men in the truck, who smiles and waves before beckoning you closer.

“Hey, how are you? Can I get a chicken quesadilla and an order of birria tacos, please?” you place your order, and the man taking your order nods as the other worker in the truck starts preparing your food.

You help yourself to a seat at one of the tables and pull out your phone, taking a picture of the food truck and posting it to your Instagram story with the caption “thank god they’re still open.”

It takes less than three minutes after your post goes live for your phone to buzz with a notification.

haechanahceah liked your story.

haechanahceah: what’d you get 👀

you: it’s a secret 😌

haechanahceah: gatekeeping is no fun :(

you: idk abt that i’m having a great time right now actually 🤔

you: what are you even doing up sir

haechanahceah: can’t sleep :(

haechanahceah: and “sir”….unless you wanna start something i don’t think you can finish, i wouldn’t call me that

you: has anyone ever told you you’re kind of full of yourself?

haechanahceah: nope :) maybe you wanna be full of me instead?

you: …don’t make me lose my appetite.

haechanahceah: speaking of appetite, i could go for something to eat 🤔 any recommendations?

you: hmmmmmmm i might know of a place

haechanahceah: oh yeah?

you: mhm :) it’s a little mexican food truck :) that i may or may not be sitting at right now :)

haechanahceah: the one by your building? on the corner of the block?

you: maybe  🧌

haechanahceah: say less i’m omw right now

you: i’ll see you soon then i suppose

It doesn’t take Haechan long at all to get to where you are; as a matter of fact, the cook hasn’t even finished your birria tacos by the time Haechan arrives. 

“Hey,” Haechan greets you, sitting down beside you at the small table. 

“Hi, stranger,” you reply lightheartedly, offering him a friendly smile.

Haechan rests his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm, studying you for a moment.

You let him look for a while without saying anything, only sparing him a glance once your patience runs out, raising an eyebrow expectantly. “Can I help you with something?”

“Did you miss me?” Haechan asks in a teasing lilt, and you roll your eyes, laughing quietly to yourself.

“Maybe a little bit.” you admit, deciding to indulge him for once, and you don’t regret it—his face lights up as he beams at you, and you’re momentarily dazzled into silence, simply blinking at him in a mild daze.

“Good.” he replies, still smiling from ear to ear as he stands up to order. Leaning down so his mouth is by your ear, he murmurs, “I missed you, too,�� before he steps forward to place his order.

A full body shudder travels down your spine from his proximity to your ear, and you shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself at his antics.

“What did you get?” you ask curiously when he returns to his seat.

“I got chicken flautas and a beef burrito.” he answers excitedly, and you can’t help but laugh fondly.

“You sound so eager.”

“I’m hungry,” he stresses, and you snort in amusement.

The cook holds out the bag of your food and you stand up to take it and thank him, noting with mild confusion that Haechan follows suit, following after you to the front of the truck.

As you take your bag of food from the cook’s hand, the man who initially took your order presents the portable card reader for you to pay, and Haechan reaches up and places his phone over the screen before you can even process what he’s doing.

“Did—Haechan.” you stammer in confusion as everything gradually starts to come together.

“Yes?” he sing-songs the response with an air of triumph that has you narrowing your eyes.

“Did you just pay for my food?”

“Sure did.” he confirms, nodding proudly. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” you say with a small frown, and he rolls his eyes before waving you off dismissively.

“I know. I wanted to.” he replies, and you let out a small sigh of defeat.

“Haechan, literally what am I going to do with you?”

“For now? You can sit and eat with me and keep me company.” he proposes hopefully, and a fond smile makes its way to your lips before you sigh dramatically and gingerly place your bag of food down on the table.

“I suppose I can do that.” you say slowly with a feigned air of reluctance, and there goes that knee-buckling smile of his again, your dangerously charming meal companion gesturing for you to sit down.

“Good. Now, how was your day after I left? Worse, right? Dull and boring and uninspiring in my absence, right?” he nods encouragingly at you and you can’t hold back the amused giggle that slips from your lips.

“Actually, yeah,” you sigh, casting a forlorn look at the ground, much to Haechan’s amusement. “My boss-that’s-not-my-real-boss stopped by again.”

“No way? What’s his deal?” Haechan looks genuinely offended on your behalf, and you can’t help but feel a little vindicated by his reaction.

“Literally no idea, Haechan,” you huff, frowning again at the unpleasant memory. When you look over at Haechan, he’s already looking at you, eyes soft and warm with a hint of amusement. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re just so cute when you pout.” he admits, and you roll your eyes.

“I was not pouting.”

“You most definitely were.” he insists, sitting forward with a gleam in his eyes. “Sitting here with that bottom lip all cute and poked out and tempting me like that, and you think you’re not pouting?”

You fix your face. “Tempting you?”

“To just kiss you already.” he says in a low murmur, the words hanging in the air like a confession between the two of you. 

“Don’t say things like that,” you mumble after a brief silence.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he counters with a nonchalant shrug. “Now, what did your boss-that’s-not-really-your-boss want?”

“God, Haechan,” you launch into your complaint eagerly, relieved to have a shift in conversation, “can you believe he ‘forgot his water bottle’ then hovered for ages making sure I was checking the books back in and setting them aside to be reshelved?”

Haechan scoffs. “If he wants it done a certain way or at a certain time, then he should—”

“Do it himself!” you finish the end of Haechan’s sentence with him, feeling more than validated enough from your mini venting session. “Exactly! Ugh, see, you get it.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re just so compatible,” he says with a suggestive, pointed grin, and you stop short, staring blankly at him. “Okay, sorry.”

“Yeah… anyway, how was your day after you left? Was everything alright at work?” you ask, and annoyance flashes across his face as he seems to recall his day.

“Some bigwig food critic came to the restaurant earlier than he was supposed to, and we had to have all hands on deck to make sure everything went smoothly.” he groans as he thinks back, and you rub his back comfortingly, the male leaning into your touch. “It ended well, thankfully, but they were all freaking out when he started asking about wines to pair with his dish and I was nowhere to be found.”

The man preparing the food calls out to Haechan, holding out his order, and Haechan excuses himself briefly, heading over to pay for his meal.

“Well, that’s not your fault!” you say as he returns to your small table. When he sits down again, your knees knock into the other’s awkwardly, but neither of you move away to prevent it, finding the touch a bit comforting. “So you had to start work early?”

“Well, yeah, I had to hurry over to the restaurant so we didn’t get a critique saying we don’t know a merlot from a riesling.” he explains, and you’re silent for a moment, thinking.

“I don’t know a merlot from a riesling,” you confess in a conspiratorial whisper. “I actually don’t know anything about wine.”

“I’ll teach you,” he offers, nudging you with his shoulder. “We can go on a wine tasting date.”

“A what?”

“Did I say ‘date?’ I meant ‘friendly platonic outing that I will definitely not use as an opportunity to hit on you.’” he corrects himself, lips quirking up into a shameless grin, and you roll your eyes. 

“I gotta hand it to you, you’re really determined.” you chuckle, shaking your head as you remember this isn’t even the first time he’s suggested a wine tasting date. “But on another note entirely, can we eat now? I’ve been waiting this whole time until your food was ready, but I’m at the point where my stomach is starting to chime in.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” he agrees, opening his bag and fishing out the container of food as you do the same. 

“God, it smells so good,” you moan as you bring a slice of your quesadilla to your lips for a bite. It’s nothing short of delicious, the meat and cheese bursting with flavor and warmth, and you have to refrain from making another noise of satisfaction in order not to embarrass yourself. 

You’re so engrossed in eating for a couple of minutes that you realize that Haechan hasn’t said anything since taking his first bite, and you look over, concerned, to see that his eyes are shut and a blissful smile is on his lips as he chews his food.

“I take it you like the burrito?” you ask, and he nods eagerly, sitting up slightly and picking up his burrito, bringing it to your lips with a hand cupped under to catch anything that falls. “Oh, I’m okay,” you start to decline, but he shakes his head and wiggles the foil-wrapped food insistently, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Try some,” he presses. “Open up,” he sing-songs, and you sigh deeply before obliging and biting into the burrito, making the mistake of looking into Haechan’s eyes as you do. “Good girl,” he breathes distractedly, and you inhale sharply, pulling back from the burrito immediately and starting to cough from the large chunk of food you mistakenly inhaled. “You good?” he asks, alarmed, as he claps you on the back in an attempt to help.

Finally, after what feels like an agonizingly long amount of time, you manage to swallow the obstruction and take your time desperately catching your breath before you glower up at a wary Haechan with a sore throat and watery eyes. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”  he asks, confused.

“You almost killed me!” you exclaim, and he splutters in protest. 

“Me?! How?!”

“‘Good girl?’ Are you serious?” you huff, realizing your mistake a moment too late as Haechan’s eyes widen in understanding and a devious grin overtakes his features.

“Am I hearing that you liked that?” he teases, and you growl under your breath.

“No,” you say, averting your gaze. “It was just unexpected, that’s all. It caught me off-guard.”

“I think you liked it,” Haechan decides proudly. “And, I think I should say that more often.”

“You’d better not.” you warn him.

He meets your gaze with a mischievous smile and opens his mouth to speak and undoubtedly mess with you once more, only for you to lean forward and stuff one of his flautas in his mouth. 

“Chew.” you order, shushing him when he tries again to speak. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” you scold, and he narrows his eyes at you but dutifully chews his mouthful of food. “Good boy,” you coo mockingly, and he stiffens immediately, eyes zeroing in on you.

“The difference between you and me,” he says slowly as he leans closer and closer, “is that I’m not gonna pretend that didn’t turn me on.”

“...You’re kinda sick, you know.” you announce, watching him in awe. “Not to mention shameless! Just sick and shameless.”

“And you like it,” Haechan marvels, feigning shock and wonder for a moment before dropping the act and wiggling his brows at you. “So what does that make you?”

“I don’t know where you heard that I like it,” you counter, fixing him in place with a confused look, “but you should get more reliable sources of information.”

“I’ve got a pretty good one right now.” he says, smugness creeping into his tone, and you can’t help but snort derisively.

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that, a Magic 8 ball?”

He doesn’t say anything until you look over at him again and momentarily stun yourself into silence from the intense gaze he’s directing towards you.

“Your eyes don’t lie,” Haechan half-murmurs, half-whispers. “You know that, right?”

And now you’re in quite the unique dilemma where you can’t look away because that would prove him right and you can’t look at him because, well, that… would also prove him right.

“Y’know, on that note, I am so hungry,” you stammer, haphazardly stuffing your face with food in an attempt to save yourself from the discussion at hand.

Haechan chuckles quietly but obliges your silent request for mercy, resuming his eating.

The food is delicious, and you end up offering Haechan a bite of one of your birria tacos as a thank you for letting you try some of his food.

The meal together is pleasant, admittedly, but dangerously intimate overall, and you don’t know how to make peace with the fact that you’re really starting to enjoy having Haechan around. When you’ve both finished your food, Haechan calls your name gently, waiting until you turn to face him to swipe some birria sauce off of your chin with his thumb. 

“Oh, thanks,” you start to say, but it cuts off into an alarmed squeak when he licks the very same thumb clean, Haechan grinning triumphantly at you as you gape and splutter. “You really are sick and shameless—I was right.”

“Using a napkin would have been wasteful,” he defends himself, but he’s not even trying to sound convincing. “I’m being sustainable.”

“Wonder how Winter would feel about the way you, uh, saved the planet just now.” you snicker, and he glowers at you.

“It doesn’t matter how she would feel,” Haechan begins, standing up and offering a hand to you to help you to your feet. You take it politely, but he pulls you closer by the very same hand and whispers loudly, “because she’s not here, and she’s not going to find out.” 

“What a good, considerate boyfriend,” you drawl in a bored tone. “And on that note, I’m going home.” You turn around to leave but stop when Haechan mirrors your actions, following after you. “And where exactly are you going?”

“At least let me make sure you get home safe.” Haechan insists, and you assess him for a moment, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’ll behave, I promise!”

“...Okay, I guess.” you finally agree, and he beams, falling in step alongside you as you two head to your apartment complex. True to his word, he remains perfectly well-mannered for the entirety of the roughly eight-minute walk to your apartment.

As the elevator opens on your floor and your apartment door comes into sight, you start to come to terms with the fact that Haechan really is pleasant company to keep when he’s not blatantly hitting on you. 

(If you were being fully honest with yourself, you would add that he’s actually still pleasant company—entertaining company, even—when he’s flirting shamelessly.)

Before you know it, you two have reached your front door and you have an idea brewing in your mind and, as you look over at Haechan who smiles sweetly at you, you hope silently that what you’re about to do doesn’t backfire horribly.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you say sincerely. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

Haechan makes a face, waving you off dismissively before saying, “I did, actually. I’ve got to make sure you get home okay.”

“Right,” you say slowly, trailing off as you search for the right words for what you want to say next. “Hey, Haechan?”

“Hm?” He tilts his head to the side curiously as he waits for you to speak, and you avert your gaze, looking instead at your phone screen.

“If, um, you want to…” you start off, surprised by just how nervous you’ve become, “I would like for you to come to my Halloween party.”

Haechan goes still in your peripheral vision and you don’t look up for what feels like ages. Unable to bear not seeing his reaction for any longer, you look up to see a shy smile slowly growing on his face.

“I would love to come.” Haechan accepts the invitation with a small nod, and you beam at him, nodding as well before looking around awkwardly and clearing your throat.

“Well, great! You know when it is, and you know where I live.” You gesture at your front door, and he snickers before nodding in confirmation.

“What time should I come? Should I bring anything?” he asks curiously.

“Party starts officially at 10:30pm, but you can come as early as 9:30pm. And,” you say, pausing to think for a moment, “I don’t think you need to bring anything but a costume.“

“You got it.” he agrees, eagerness creeping into his tone, and his excitement seems to be contagious as your own lips start to curl upwards into a smile.

“Okay, great! Well, on that note, um… good night.” you bid him farewell, and he smiles fondly.

“Good night.” He heads down the hall to the elevator and you wait to enter your apartment until after he enters the elevator and the door shuts behind him.

You’re about to unlock your door to let yourself in when you hear a loud celebratory whooping noise from the elevator shaft, making you burst into giggles before you enter your apartment and lock the door behind you, leaning your back against the door and sighing loudly.

“I really hope I don’t regret this.” you whisper to yourself before pushing off of the door and heading to your room to get ready for bed. 

You’re sitting comfortably on your couch between Yunjin and Seulgi as you discuss what movie to watch when your phone buzzes.

You peek at your phone to check the notification and roll your eyes to yourself, a small smile curling your lips.

haechan [22:37] hi :)

you [22:38] hi?

haechan [22:38] wyd

“I vote for The Incredible Hulk!” you suggest, and Yunjin clutches your arm excitedly, her grip slowly tightening. “Ow.”

“We should definitely watch The Incredible Hulk!”

“Owie—”

“Or Venom…” she gasps eagerly.

“Yeowch—” 

“Oh, sorry,” she mumbles, releasing you. You rub your sore arm and glower at her, and she smiles sheepishly. “You know I love Venom.”

“He’s so… strong.” you mutter dreamily. “I change my vote to Venom.”

“Come on, you see a long tongue and stop thinking entirely.” Chaewon protests, and you frown. 

“I do not! He’s more than his… incredibly long… thick… tongue.” you mumble, subtly fanning yourself to do away with the heat in your cheeks.

“You should get a room. Not even with Venom, just go in the kitchen and sort yourself out.” Seulgi snorts, and you let out a small hmph, curling up on the couch and returning your attention to your phone.

you [22:41] watching a movie with the girls

haechan [22:41] oh fun

haechan [22:41] where’s my invite :/

you [22:42] must have gotten lost in the mail 

haechan [22:42] no worries i’m on my way

“Can we not watch Venom? He’s kind of scary.” Winter asks nervously, and you groan.

“Why are you standing between me and true lust?” you complain, and she giggles.

“Winter, I’ll hold you if he scares you.” Chaewon offers, and you roll your eyes in mild amusement.

“Not Chaewon putting the moves on Winter,” Seulgi remarks in surprise, and Chaewon splutters.

“I am not ‘putting the moves on Winter!’ I’m being a good friend!” she counters defensively.

you [22:45] winter is here

haechan [22:45] on second thought my bed is sooooo cozy

you [22:46] WOW.

you [22:46] that’s sick actually

You snort in amusement, and Yunjin turns to look at you.

“Something to say?”

You blanch. “No, ma’am.”

She narrows her eyes, regarding you suspiciously. “You seem awfully entertained.”

You gesture at your now bickering friends with an amused grin. “Are you not?”

“Hm… fair.” she agrees, and you smile, looking back at your phone.

haechan [22:50] in my defense you’ve never felt my bed

you [22:51] and i never will. god bless 🙏

haechan [22:51] never say never baby

you disliked “never say never baby”

you [22:52] okay justin bieber

haechan [22:52] king

you [22:53] um. sure

you [22:53] :/

“Can we pick already?” you stress, and Winter sighs deeply.

“We can watch Venom, I guess. Chaewon’s holding me.” she relents, and you all cheer as Yunjin selects it to play.

haechan [22:55] not you having beef with the biebs

you [22:55] not you unironically saying “the biebs”

haechan [22:55] you don’t understand his genius

you [22:56] and which part of his genius made him piss in a mop bucket that one time?

haechan [22:58] HE WAS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING

you [22:59] okay now hush boy the movie’s about to start

haechan [22:59] what are you watching?

you [23:00] venom :3

haechan [23:00] no way you got winter to agree to watching it

haechan [23:01] he scares her!

you [23:02] sure did. and he sure does

you [23:04] chaewon’s gonna hold her

haechan [23:04] and who’s gonna hold you?

haechan [23:04] me right

haechan [23:04] great im omw

“You’re not even paying attention!” Seulgi complains at you, and you sit up in your seat, placing your phone more surreptitiously in your lap.

“I am!” you counter, and she narrows her eyes at you before returning her attention to the screen.

you [23:06] firstly you’re sick. you’re supposed to hold your girlfriend not me

haechan [23:06] you just said someone’s already holding her 🙄

you [23:07] secondly i dont need to be held. me personally i want venom carnally

haechan [23:07] good god woman way to make a man insecure

you [23:08] LMAO? you upset you can’t measure up to the super parasitic entity that is venom?

haechan [23:08] he’s more of a man than i’ll ever be 😞

you [23:09] HE’S NOT EVEN HUMAN?

haechan [23:11] so i shouldn’t be worried about him? 😏 because you already like me? 😏

you [23:12] you shouldnt be worried about him because he is, first and foremost, not real

you [23:12] no one said anything about liking you 😒

haechan [23:14] maybe you should

you [23:17] say something? or like you?

haechan [23:17] both 😁

you [23:19] change the topic before i block you

haechan [23:20] fiiiiine

haechan [23:24] what are you wearing?

you disliked “what are you wearing?”

you [23:26] HAECHAN.

haechan [23:26] TO THE HALLOWEEN PARTY??????

you [23:28] 😒 not cute or funny

haechan [23:30] jeeeeez a guy can’t ask a question?

you [23:30] not like that you can’t!!

you [23:32] also you’ll see at the party. it’s a surprise

haechan [23:33] ugh fine 🙁 i’ll behave

you [23:33] i don’t believe you for a minute but fine

you [23:37] also i’m gonna stop texting soon the movie’s about to get good

haechan [23:38] can’t believe you're in love with venom

you [23:39] in lust**

You lock your phone and stuff it under your thigh, watching with rapt attention as Venom fights off several henchmen, and you’re made distantly aware of your phone buzzing under your leg. With an amused sigh and a roll of your eyes, you pull your phone out from under your leg.

haechan [23:42] get a room 🤮

you [23:43] happily. and i’ll daydream about venom all night long 🥰

haechan [23:44] venom is one lucky bastard

you [23:44] mmm why? you wish i was fantasizing about you instead?

haechan [23:45] YES.

you [23:46] awwww

you [23:49] too bad. gtg my man’s on the screen

You lock your phone for good and scan the living room, your gaze settling on Winter wrapped up in Chaewon’s arms, focused intently on the movie, and you relax slightly.

Haechan is really a piece of work, and if the Halloween party goes anything like your text conversation just did, you might be in a bit of trouble.

The day of your party finally comes around, and when people start filtering in and the music starts playing, the vibe starts to feel just like you planned. All of your friends have made an appearance except for Haechan, who’s apparently in the apartment but nowhere near you.

Not that you care at all. Because you definitely don’t. But you just think it’s kind of funny how he practically begged for an invite to your party and cheered when he got one, only to come to said party and not show his face to the hostess? Rude! Disrespectful, really.

But it doesn’t bother you at all, so you push the thoughts from your mind and focus on having a good time at your party.

“Wow,” you remark as some guy you only vaguely recognize walks by you. “That is one impressive Groot costume.”

“It’s so realistic,” Seulgi says, awestruck. You reach over and fix her crooked bunny ears headband, and she smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Lola.”

“You’re welcome, Bugs,” you reply with a smile. 

“Do you think he’d let me touch his wood if I asked nicely?” Chaewon wonders aloud, and you and Seulgi exchange a glance.

“I think if you ask to ‘touch his wood,’ he’s not gonna think you’re talking about the costume.” you explain slowly, and Chaewon balks.

“Oh, ew. No, ew. It was just to find out what material he used!” she gags, and you and Seulgi start to laugh. “Laugh it up! Laugh it up at the clueless lesbian who doesn’t understand double entendres!”

“We are,” Seulgi giggles. “We literally are right now.”

“You two are horrid. No wonder you teamed up for Halloween.” Chaewon mutters bitterly. 

You and Seulgi smile, bumping hips. “Sorry we didn’t join in on the Powerpuff Girls costume idea,” you huff, and Chaewon frowns deeply.

“Don’t remind me,” she grouches. 

“What I want to know,” Seulgi chimes in, “is how you got Chenle to be Professor Utonium.” 

“Well, we asked Mark first because, you know, he’s more agreeable.” Chaewon sighs. “But he was dead set on being Spider-Man, so Chenle got tired of hearing us whine, so he just agreed to shut us up.”

“Well… congratulations. It’s not like your costumes are incomplete, so I don’t know why you were so upset we didn’t join!” you defend yourself and Seulgi.

Chaewon grimaces. “You could have been Mojo Jojo—or the Mayor!” she says with a jabbing point in Seulgi’s direction. “And you! You could have been Ms. Bellum!” she wails at you, putting her face in her hands.

You rub her back comfortingly and hand her a gummy worm from your cup of snacks. She lets out a soft hmph but takes it, chewing it until her expression softens into a small smile.

“Speaking of the Powerpuff Girls, where is Miss Buttercup?” you ask, looking around for Yunjin.

“I think she said something about the bathroom.” Seulgi answers, and you nod in acknowledgement.

“I’d ask where Winter went, but she’s over there talking to Jeno.” you say, pointing at the two of them on the other side of the room.

Chaewon squints into the distance and frowns. “What is Jeno supposed to be?”

“Hmm,” you hum thoughtfully, taking in the elements of his costume. “I think he’s that guy from Popeye? Like, the really buff guy? What’s his name, though?”

“Oh, Bluto?” Seulgi rejoins the conversation, and you nod excitedly.

“That’s him! Also, welcome back, girl,” you snort in amusement.

“Sorry,” she replies sheepishly. “Some girl is here as a fairy and her wings are glittery, and I couldn’t look away. I blame this new strain I tried before I came here; it makes me space out like crazy.”

“Poor thing,” you hum sympathetically. “You’re just a girl.”

“I’m literally just a girl!” she exclaims in agreement.

“You know what I think is odd?” you say curiously. “You can almost never find Winter and Haechan in the same spot unless we’re all hanging out together.”

“Yeah, because Haechan’s always where you are,” Seulgi mutters, and you shoot her a dirty look. “Am I wrong?”

“Yes, actually. He’s nowhere to be found right now, so you’re wrong.”  

“Probably looking for you,” Seulgi sing-songs, and you roll your eyes.

“Is not!” you huff.

“He probably is, girl,” Chaewon says with a sympathetic smile and a pat to your shoulder. You shrug her off with a hmph and stick a peach ring in your mouth.

“Can we change the topic?” you plead. “Let’s talk about… how buff Jeno looks in his costume.” you suggest with a smile, and Seulgi and Chaewon stare at you expressionlessly. “What?”

“I’m a lesbian,” Chaewon says carefully, like you’ve forgotten. “I literally do not care.”

“I’m into guys on rare occasions, but I’m not into Jeno,” Seulgi replies. “So I also do not care.”

“Jeez, tough crowd,” you grouch, snatching your drink off of the table behind you. “I think you both could use a hit.”

“I just hit my pen like twenty minutes ago,” Seulgi says, confused, and you blink at her. 

“No, I meant… you deserve a whack. Like, I should get to hit you.” you say slowly, and she sucks her teeth before throwing a piece of popcorn from her cup at you as you giggle mischievously.

“On that note, I’m leaving!” Chaewon gripes. “I’m gonna talk to the glittery fairy wings girl Seulgi was staring at.”

“Wh—was my staring not a sufficient claim of dibs?” she splutters, and you and Chaewon look at each other.

“No?” you say in unison.

“How about you both hit on her? Either she picks one of you or she could pick both and y’all can have a threesome or something.” you suggest, and they both pause to consider it.

“Sounds like a plan,” Chaewon agrees, and Seulgi nods in agreement with a smile. 

As they head off in the direction of the pretty glittery fairy girl, you smile to yourself. “Good luck!” you call after them. Seulgi shoots you a thumbs up and your smile widens before you decide to hunt down Yunjin.

It doesn’t take you long to locate her, her green Buttercup costume standing out in the throng of people. Unfortunately, when you find her, you still have one main thing on your mind.

“Hey!” she greets you brightly, and you offer a smile that, based on the narrowing of her eyes, must not be very convincing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really, just stressed about the party.” you fib, and she frowns sympathetically.

“Look around! People are having a great time.” she assures you, and a cursory glance reveals that virtually everyone is all smiles and laughter.

Given that you weren’t even remotely concerned about the state of your party, you feign immense relief, making Yunjin smile.

“You’re right,” you say with a content smile, and she beams wider, wrapping you in a hug. As she releases you, you hope and pray to make the delivery of your next line as convincingly casual as possible. “By the way—have you seen Haechan anywhere?”

She screws her face up thoughtfully. “I did! I let him in the apartment,” she recalls proudly, and you smile encouragingly.

“That’s great—do you happen to know where he might be?” you ask as nonchalantly as you can, and Yunjin shakes her head.

“No, I don’t. That was, like, an hour ago? An hour and a half?” she wonders aloud, and you nod, patting her hand gently.

“Thanks, girl.”

“Why? You looking for him?” she asks curiously, and you hope she misses the way you hesitate. 

“Not really,” you lie. “I just figured since I finally invited him, he’d… y’know… find me to thank me.”

“Oh, true.” she agrees. “Well, he’s definitely around. You can’t really miss him.” 

You cock your head to the side in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“He’s dressed like… I don’t know… Godzilla?” Yunjin wonders, and you snicker.

“Copy Godzilla.” you laugh, squeezing her hand gently. “He’s so weird—”

“Hey!” Mark joins your conversation with a bright smile. 

“Hey, Spider-Man.” you greet. “Nice costume!”

“Thanks, dude.” he says with a bashful smile. “I fucked up the mask though; that’s why I’m not wearing it.”

“What do you mean?” you ask in confusion, and Mark shamefully pulls out his mask and puts it on to reveal— “Oh—”

“Why are the holes like that?” Yunjin giggles, and Mark’s frown is visible even through the misplaced mouth hole.

“Well, for starters, I don’t think Spider-Man has a mouth hole, Mark. Want me to fix it?” you offer, and he yanks the mask off his head with an eager nod.

“Would you?” he pleads, and you nod with your hand out to take the mask.

“I’ll sew the mouth hole closed and… try to fix the eye holes.” you explain.

Mark beams at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” you wave him off, and Yunjin squeezes your hand to get your attention.

“I’m gonna go on the balcony and take a hit,” she murmurs. “You wanna come?”

“You know I don’t,” you laugh, and she shrugs.

“I always invite you so you don’t think you’re not welcome,” she explains, and you smile fondly. “I’ll be back soon. Mark, you want some?”

“Hell, yeah, dude.” Mark agrees excitedly, following after Yunjin before stopping in his tracks and doubling back to say one final thing to you. “Hey, have you seen Haechan yet?”

“No,” you reply a bit more bitterly than you intended. “Why?”

“He’s been looking for you since you got here.” Mark explains, confused, and, to your embarrassment, you feel your heart speed up ever so slightly.

“Really?” you hum nonchalantly. “Well, I’ll probably run into him sooner or later.”

“True, true. Okay, let me go catch Yunjin. Thanks again for fixing my mask!” he says in a rush, and you laugh, waving him off.

“Just go, Mark, it’s okay.” you laugh, and he turns on his heel before nimbly navigating through the crowd of people to get to Yunjin’s retreating figure.

You head to your room to fix Mark’s mask with your sewing kit and try your best to push all thoughts of Haechan from your mind.

“I mean, it’s just weird that he wanted to come to this party so bad, but can't even thank the hostess for the invite?” you huff to a sympathetic Chaewon and Seulgi. They share a look and you falter, looking between the two of them with growing concern. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Seulgi lies, and your concern morphs to panic.

“What? Tell me!” 

“It’s not important, actually. It was a… sapphic moment.” Chaewon chimes in, and you narrow your eyes skeptically.

“Sure, it was.” you huff, leaning back against the wall. “Speaking of sapphic—”

“I’m scared.” Seulgi says immediately, already looking suspicious.

“Did you guys ever get to talk to the pretty fairy girl?” you ask, and they share another look. “That was a sapphic moment. That first look was a ‘we’re keeping secrets from you’ moment.”

“She’s super sweet,” Chaewon answers, completely and conveniently ignoring the latter half of your sentence. “She’s got really nice boobs, too.” she sighs dreamily.

“You’re no better than a man,” you sigh in disappointment, and she gasps.

“I have an appreciation for nice breasts that a man would never be able to fully understand.” she defends herself, and you raise your hands in surrender. 

“Sure, Chae.”

“Listen, about Haechan—why do you care so much?” Seulgi asks curiously, and you splutter indignantly.

“I don’t care, it’s just—it’s just rude!” you huff.

“Would it be less rude if we told you Haechan was just over here before you came and he was very much looking for you?” Seulgi answers, and you freeze.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Which way did he go?” you ask, turning to look. When you look back at your friends, you catch the tail end of yet another look shared between the two of them before they look at you with a knowing expression. “First of all, mind your business.” 

“Your complaining about it to us made it our business.” Chaewon points out. “Now go find that weird little alligator-crocodile man while we continue attempting to romance the pretty fairy girl with a heavenly rack.”

“I’m sorry… what?” you ask slowly.

Chaewon blinks at you. “We’re trying to romance the pretty fairy girl with massive mommy milkers?”

“Okay, well, that’s not what I was asking about. And it got worse somehow. Did you just refer to Godzilla a ‘weird little alligator-crocodile?’” you ask, baffled, and Chaewon has the nerve to look at you like you’re stupid.

“He came as that alligator or crocodile from Princess and the Frog,” Chaewon explains slowly. “The one that plays the trumpet? Louis?”

“You’re kidding. Yunjin said he was Godzilla.” you snort, and can’t help but notice that Seulgi has gone awfully quiet. “You good, Seulgi?”

“I thought he was a Komodo dragon,” she mutters shamefully, and you and Chaewon share a look. 

“Now why would he—?”

“I didn’t think to question it.” she complains. “It’s not like I can tell all reptiles apart, you know.”

“I would think the main ones could be stored away for future reference, though.” you supply helpfully, and Seulgi glowers at you. “Listen—if you guys do end up romancing that girl, you can hook up in my room, just please stay on top of the covers so I have less to wash.”

“You got it, boss.” Chaewon agrees eagerly, taking Seulgi’s hand and pulling her away without another word.

As you turn to continue your party rounds, you bump directly into Jeno’s solid chest, his hands immediately steadying you as you practically bounce off of him. 

“Shit, sorry!” you gasp, starting to fuss over him slightly. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Jeno assures you with a warm smile. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, too,” you assure him back, and he relaxes slightly. “I like your costume,” you say, sounding surprisingly shy.

“I like yours, too,” Jeno replies with a lingering glance at your body that has your insides tingling with excitement. “You look stunning,” he adds with an appreciative grin.

“I like your muscles,” you admit plainly, reaching out to touch before pulling back and looking for confirmation. “Sorry, can I—?”

“Please—” he blurts out, offering you his arm eagerly. You take it with a giggle and let out a low whistle as you feel the firm muscles moving under his skin. “I spent every day this week in the gym for this.”

“It paid off,” you confirm, nodding with an impressed grin. “That’s actually amazing, Jeno. I hope you were taking care of yourself and not just working out like a madman.”

He grins sheepishly. “I ate lots of meat? And carbs? I was trying to bulk up and define, not lose weight.”

“Oh. Good.” you remark, pleasantly surprised. “Well, add vegetables and fruits in there, too… or I’ll get you.”

Jeno snorts loudly before bursting into laughter. “You’ll get me?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why you’re laughing, actually.” you sniffle, turning your nose up. “I can be a formidable opponent.”

“I bet.” Jeno agrees with a nod, and your lips quirk up into a teasing smile.

“You know, we should fight.” you muse, and his eyes bulge. “Like a sparring match!”

Jeno’s face passes through several emotions rapidly—shock, understanding, confusion, understanding (again), excitement, realization, then finally a tampered down excitement. “You want to wrestle me?”

“Yeah,” you hum with a little smile. “Why, you don’t wanna?”

“Oh, I wanna,” Jeno confirms immediately. “I really, really… really wanna.” he mutters as his gaze drops to your outfit again.

“You wanna pin me down, Jeno?” you gasp, surprised, and he looks scandalized for a moment before you finish, “I’m kidding, Jeno, relax!”

“God, you scared me.” he exhales loudly, and you laugh, pulling him in for an apologetic hug. “I mean, like, I would love to pin you down.” he confesses, and you freeze, staring at him in pleasant surprise. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He nods, not releasing you when you pull back from the hug. At this angle, your lower halves are pressed together and you’re trying your best not to be intimately aware of the way you can feel heat radiating off of him everywhere you two are touching. 

“What if I don’t give up easily?”

“I don’t have a problem with a little struggling.”

“Who says it’d be little? I’m stronger than I look, you know,” you say with a small hmph.

Jeno shamelessly flexes one bicep. “So am I.”

You’re not gonna lie… that did a little something to you just now. “Well, let’s figure something out so we can see once and for all.” you suggest with a coy bat of your lashes, and he grins wolfishly.

“You’re on.”

“Sorry!” Winter chirps, appearing out of literally nowhere with two drinks in her hands. “Sorry, I can tell I’m interrupting, but—have either of you seen Haechan?”

You and Jeno look at each other in confusion before slowly detangling yourselves. “I haven’t seen him literally all night.” you remark, trying to hide the residual bitterness from your voice.

“I saw him, like, twenty minutes ago, but he was with you.” Jeno answers, and Winter frowns before perking up hopefully.

“Can you guys text him? My phone is in my back pocket, and I don’t have any free hands.” she pouts slightly, and you nod, pulling your phone from your pocket to help without thinking. 

you [23:17] wya

To your surprise, his response is instant and it takes everything in you not to visibly react to the appearance of the new message bubbles, leaving you to subtly angle your phone towards yourself.

haechan [23:17] by the bathroom

haechan [23:19] where are YOU? i’ve been looking for you all night

“Nothing yet,” you lie. “I’ll bring him to you if I find him, okay?”

“Okay,” Winter sighs before leaning against the wall in defeat. 

As subtly as possible, you text him back.

you [23:22] heading to kitchen

haechan [23:23] wait for me there

“I hope you find him! I’m gonna check on Yunjin and Mark; they haven’t gotten off of the balcony in a while.” you lie, and they nod, bidding you goodbye.

When you’re sure you’re out of sight, you make a beeline for the kitchen, trying your best to ignore the building feeling of anticipation the closer you get.

You’ve finally managed to escape to the kitchen to meet Haechan (or for some snacks, depending on who’s asking) and you’re admittedly eager to get away from the party going on in the rest of your apartment for a moment of peace and quiet. You’re fixing yourself a small plate of snacks complete with Cheetos puffs and Lays chips when you’re subconsciously made aware of a new presence behind you. 

“Hi, Miss Lola Bunny.” A familiar voice sounds out from behind you, and you freeze in place before slowly turning to face a grinning Haechan as he scans your (admittedly scantily clad) frame with eyes that linger longingly on your every dip and curve.

“Hi, Mister Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.” you reply casually, popping a Cheetos puff into your mouth and chewing. “You know, the girls thought you were Godzilla, Louis—the alligator from Princess and the Frog—and a Komodo dragon, respectively.”

“That’s kind of sad,” he remarks with a chuckle. “They should reopen the schools.”

“It’s too late for them, I fear,” you reply solemnly, and Haechan snorts loudly in amusement.

“I’ll pray for them.” he says just as solemnly, and you can’t help but giggle. At the sound, Haechan draws closer to you with his eyes low. “You look good as hell,” he remarks casually, and you roll your eyes before appraising him carefully. 

“You look… green.” you decide on saying, and he narrows his eyes.

“That’s all you’re gonna give me?” he says with a pout, and you shrug nonchalantly.

“You’re wearing a turtle costume… with artificial padding… be lucky that’s all I said.”

“Well, guess what, sunshine?” he asks. “I bet you’d like what’s underneath this costume much better.”

“You’re talking like a crazy person.” you dismiss him. “Maybe you’re developing heat stroke or something; aren’t you hot in all that?”

“Why? Want me to take it off?” he teases, and you groan in frustration as he laughs. “I’m kidding. Kinda.”

“Whatever,” you sigh. “Which one are you, anyway?” you ask, desperate to change the subject, and he grins widely, wiggling his eyebrows and gesturing to his costume.

“Guess.”

“Hm… Michelangelo?” you try, and his eyes widen in shock before he nods excitedly. “Hm. Fitting. Funny guy, never really takes anything seriously.”

“You know, you’re the first person to guess correctly.” he tells you, smoothly ignoring the small jab you sent his way, and you make a small noise of surprise and confusion. 

“Aren’t the eye masks color coded?” you point out, gesturing to his orange eye mask, and he nods even more eagerly than before.

“Yes, they are!” he exclaims before sighing and regarding you with a dreamy look in his eyes.  “God, where have you been all my life?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” you remark sarcastically. “Recently I’ve been hanging out with your girlfriend,” you say slowly, stressing the syllables of the last word. “Remember her? In the next room, all dolled up in her cute little Bubbles costume? Looking for you, as a matter of fact.”

“Yes, I recall.” he replies simply, and you scoff, shaking your head in disapproval.

“I told her I’d bring you to her if I found you, you know,” you sigh, and he shakes his head vehemently. 

“Don’t do that.” he half-pleads, half-huffs. “Stay here with me for a bit.”

“Give me one good reason not to.”

“I’ve been looking for you literally all night,” he says, slightly exasperated, “and I finally find you, and you don’t even want to talk to me?”

You shift your weight to your other foot. “For starters, it’s not like you found me. I texted you, which you could have done if you were looking for me that hard.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he says with a frown that actually kind of hurts your heart a little. It’s sincere, and earnest, and it’s hurt all at once.

You soften slightly. “I thought you weren’t gonna say anything to me tonight, actually.” you admit softly.

“I was dead set on finding you as soon as I got up to come here,” he promises, and you’re surprised to find that you believe him. “I had to reasonably find a way to ditch Winter so I could see you.” he says gently, his hands moving to rest on your hips.

You feel beyond conflicted right now; there’s victory and triumph and a sick satisfaction that you found him and gained the knowledge that he was looking for you, then there’s guilt and shame about the fact that not only is his girlfriend looking for him, but also the fact that you’re supposed to be helping.

Haechan must sense the happier end of your conflict, because his eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Did you want to see me, too?” At your following hesitation, his eyes brighten and he smiles at you. “You did, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” you huff, looking away, but he continues, moving his body so he’s back in your line of sight. 

“You missed me, huh? Were you walking around, hoping you’d spot me somewhere? Were you asking about me?” he teases lightly, his lips quirked into a fond but playful smile.

“Oh, my God, can we stay on topic?” you complain, and he shrugs before gesturing for you to speak. “Why are you hiding from Winter?”

“I don’t particularly want or need to see her right now.” he huffs, crossing his arms, and you want to laugh at the way his costume looks all petulant and huffy, but you refrain.

“You’re a bad boyfriend, Haechan.” you scold, and he shrugs dismissively before jerking his chin in your direction. 

“Well, you’re a bad friend!” he counters. “Seducing me with those eyes of yours.”

You snort derisively and place your hand on your hip, eying him disapprovingly. “And what exactly am I doing with my eyes, Haechan? Quickly.”

“You’re giving me bedroom eyes!”

“That’s literally just my natural expression!”

“Fine,” he says, standing up straighter. “What would Winter think about your natural expression, hm?” At your stubborn silence, he nods resolutely and continues, “I think we should go ask her.”

“No!” you stop him before he can walk off, grabbing his arm and tugging him back to you. “Let’s not.”

“See?” he answers smugly, making you roll your eyes and avert your gaze with a faint air of shame. He steps closer, his hands slowly moving to rest on the counter on either side of you, and lowers his voice to murmur, “You don’t want her to know because you have just as much skin in the game as I do.” When you continue to avoid eye contact, he sucks his teeth under his breath and takes your chin in his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up to face him. He clears his throat expectantly when you keep your eyes stubbornly fixed on a spot behind him, and you find yourself giving in, reluctantly looking up to meet his unwavering gaze. “You want this just as bad as I do.”

You don’t even have a solid rebuttal, your brows furrowing as you think of something to say that can clear your name. “Do not,” you mutter bitterly, and he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Fine,” he agrees, “I’ll give you the fact that maybe I want it more. But you?” he tugs your chin closer to him with a sudden movement that brings your lips about an inch from his, continuing over your soft gasp of surprise with, “You definitely want it, too.”

Your features contort into a conflicted expression, eyes turning shifty as they look past him and over his shoulder to assess the risk of someone coming in and catching you two in your incredibly compromising position. 

“Can you move before someone sees us?” you mumble, slightly embarrassed, and he chuckles, making you frown. “I’m serious!”

“I know somewhere quiet we can go where we probably won’t get interrupted.” he proposes in a sing-song voice.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for several moments before reopening them and meeting his gaze once more. “Not that I’m interested… but where exactly did you have in mind?”

The smile that takes over his face is more than a little worrisome; he’s smiling like he’s caught you and, more importantly, like he doesn’t plan on letting you go any time soon.

“Come,” he urges you quietly, lacing his fingers with yours and starting to lead you out of the kitchen. 

“My snacks!” you complain as he pulls you away, and he pauses with a small sigh of disbelief and amusement to let you reach back and grab your plate before continuing to guide you to wherever he has in mind. 

Haechan peeks into the hallway, looking both ways twice before pulling you after him quickly, rushing up the stairs, and finally pulling you into the bathroom on your top floor and locking the door behind you.

When you’ve finally got your wits about you and caught your breath from the sudden run upstairs, you take in your surroundings; you know your bathroom, obviously, and Haechan’s right—given that it’s the second bathroom in your apartment and that it’s located on the second floor away from the action, your chances of being interrupted or found are significantly lower.

“Haechan, what exactly are we doing in here?” you ask slowly as the realization of your situation sets in, and he smiles deceptively innocently. 

“Just… spending some time together,” he murmurs, reaching out for your hands. You place your plate of snacks on the shelving unit by the toilet and tentatively oblige, letting him link your hands and pull you in closer until you’re practically chest to chest. 

You two linger in the shared space together, the music from downstairs filtering up through the walls and providing a faint soundtrack for the two of you.

Haechan moves before you do, placing his hands on your hips and urging you to sit up onto the sink counter.

“Isn’t that better?” he coos sweetly, hands sliding down from your hips to rest on your knees. Looking at you for a silent confirmation, he gingerly spreads your legs and moves closer to stand between them. 

He is hot, you note, heat radiating off of him through his Halloween costume, and you find yourself moving without realizing, your hands rising to carefully untie the orange eye mask around his eyes. When you pull the garment away from his head and toss it on top of the toilet seat, he smiles at you, warmth and adoration reflected in his eyes. 

“Hi there,” he greets softly, voice lilting playfully, and you can’t help but snicker quietly.

“Hi, Haechan.” 

“You smell good,” he notes off-handedly.

“Thanks?” you chuckle, admittedly a bit caught off-guard. He leans in slowly, your body gradually starting to tense as you brace yourself for whatever it is he plans to do, and brings his nose to your neck, breathing in deeply before humming contently.

His breath fans over your skin, strands of his hair tickling your collarbone as he lowers his face until he’s level with your chest. 

“Haechan,” you protest weakly, and he looks up at you, studying your expression before leaning forward and pressing one daring kiss to just above your cleavage. “You know we shouldn’t.”

“You know you want to,” is his only reply before he lifts his head so you’re face to face again. “Aren’t you just at least a little bit curious? Hm?”

After what feels like ages, your internal battle comes to an end and your head moves before you can stop it, offering only the smallest of nods.

The smile he gives you in response is nothing short of radiant and he slides his arm around the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.

“That’s it,” he encourages you in a soft whisper as you let him guide you further into his embrace. 

“What do we say if they catch us?” you ask quietly, scared to break the intensity of the gaze Haechan has on you. 

“They’re not gonna catch us,” Haechan breathes, inching closer to you. At your silence, he nudges his nose past your hair and presses his lips against the heated skin of your neck.

The silence hangs in the air between you two, a heavy emptiness as you think about what you’re about to do.

In the quiet, Haechan’s fingers trail along your hips, soothing circles massaged into your skin almost convincing you that what you’re contemplating is okay.

“Okay,” you say softly, finally, and you can feel a weight leave Haechan’s shoulders as you gently rest your hands on them. “Okay. But we can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“We already have our little secrets,” he reminds you with a small grin, wiggling his eyebrows. “What’s one more?” Haechan’s voice softens, almost indecipherable, before he gently presses his lips to yours. 

You’re frozen at first, your mind still on the fence. It’s when he pulls you closer and a small, desperate grunt leaves his mouth, the tiniest “please,” that you crack, your lips slowly moving with his.

He kisses you like he’s been waiting for the opportunity his whole life. Practically yanking you off of the counter, he clutches you to his chest and squeezes you to him so tightly that you fall short of breath, your knees buckling as a plaintive whimper slips from you. 

“Fuck, I need you—” He drops to his knees, eager fingers clumsily digging into your skin as he drags your shorts down your legs, eyes wide with an almost feral excitement and unbridled desire that leaves you floored. “Such a tease, showing off your body in this costume,” he grunts, and you can feel the air shifting—the closer he gets to having you, the more brazen he becomes; talking so smooth it’s damn near slippery, dangerously bold and cocky— 

You suck in a loud breath as the cool air hits your newly exposed core, glistening folds catching the almost nonexistent breeze of Haechan’s ragged breathing. He stares at where your thighs meet with a slowly building hunger in his eyes before he’s pushing you back against the sink and urging your ass up onto the counter.

“Gonna let me eat your pretty pussy, right, baby?” he mutters urgently, spreading your legs as wide as they’ll go. He shifts his weight to his knees and moves between your thighs to block them from closing and when he looks up at you for a response to his question, the sheer desperation in his eyes and the greedy way his hands knead your inner thighs has you stunned into momentary silence, simply nodding in a daze. An almost crippling wave of relief visibly washes over him for a moment and he presses his face between your legs and groans in delight, slurring slightly when he mumbles, “Thank you, fuck, thank you so much.”

You don’t even get to unpack how stunned his words of reverence and gratitude leave you before his tongue drags up your folds, pink muscle fat and heavy and unceremoniously slurping at your arousal. You moan weakly, only to wince at the realization that people can probably hear you two from outside the bathroom between the wet noises and grunts of satisfaction Haechan is letting out as he sucks and licks at your core and your own poorly stifled moans as you grip at his hair. 

“Taste so fucking good,” he moans, hiking your leg up to drape it over his shoulder. He brings himself closer and focuses his attention on your swollen clit, suckling on the sensitive bundle of nerves before flicking it back and forth with the tip of his tongue. “All for me, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, trying to compose yourself in spite of his almost ravenous devouring of your core. You can feel wetness accumulating between your thighs, some of it even slowly dripping down your legs, and when you look down at Haechan, he looks up at you with bright eyes, pupils wide with desire, and he lolls his tongue out in an almost teasing gesture, leaving you to marvel at the clear beads of saliva dripping from the tip of his tongue to the floor. 

“Such a pretty girl,” he mumbles, lips glossy with spit before he surges forward again, burying his face in between your legs with such sudden force it has you stumbling backwards. “Pretty girl likes it when I drool all over her perfect fucking pussy, yeah?”

“Fuck—” you hiss in surprise. You knew Haechan could talk slick, but the way he’s egging you on, maintaining his smug demeanor as he skilfully brings you closer to the edge, has lust swimming in your mind.

“Could eat your pussy all night, baby,” he grunts in a throaty voice, pausing to let his tongue flick over your entrance tauntingly. When your breath catches, his eyes are quick to dart up to yours curiously before he shoots you a dazzling grin, understanding written all over his handsome features. “So damn good for me—I can’t believe this is really happening.”

“Haechan,” you whine plaintively, the tightening feeling in your abdomen growing as he presses the tip of his tongue into you slightly. “Don’t tease me—”

“You tease me all the time,” he counters, brows furrowed almost petulantly as he stares up at you. “Hell, you teased me tonight—walking around in this sexy little costume of yours,” he grunts, pushing your shirt up in jerky motions to reveal your bra and your cleavage, “like I wasn’t gonna spend all night thinking about you.”

You open your mouth to protest that you didn’t wear it for him, that he was really just collateral damage, but the rebuttal dies on your tongue as he pushes his tongue into you as far as it’ll go. You jolt in surprise, the sensation pleasurable but foreign, and let out a shuddered sigh of his name as he starts moving his tongue inside of you, swirling and flicking and pulling out to slurp greedily before starting all over again.

When he reaches up to massage circles around your clit and resumes teasing your entrance with his tongue, you promptly lose it, climaxing with a muffled cry bordering on a dry sob of his name and various curses as your legs shake around him. 

To your surprise, he doesn’t let up, only intensifying the pressure he’s applying to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance repeatedly, the pleasure quickly becoming overwhelming.

“Haechan—” you hiss, your body starting to curl in on itself protectively. “Fuck—too much—”

“You can take it, baby,” he assures you sweetly. “You’re doing so well.” He slows down the circles around your clit and you think for a moment that he might let up, but he just brings his lips to the overstimulated bud and sucks on it hard, massaging it with his tongue as you clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out. “That’s my good girl,” he purrs with his mouth sloppily moving against your clit, and the vibrations as well as his messy, wet kisses send you tipping over the edge once more.

This climax is quieter than the rest, your eyes rolling back as your lids flutter shut and your mouth drops open to let out shaky gasps and exhales as ecstasy overtakes you.

Haechan watches you climax in awe, eyes laced with hunger and desire before he moves, unable to take it any longer.

“God, you’re so good,” Haechan mumbles in a daze, fingers digging into your thighs. “So fucking good—turn around—”

”Turn around?” you slur, lost in the aftermath of your climax, only to cry out in surprise and sudden realization when he flips you around so you’re facing the sink, bends you over and starts leaving wet kisses on your asscheeks that come dangerously closer and closer to where they meet. “Haechan—fuck, oh, my God—”

“Relax, baby,” he assures you, words dragging into the next, “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” True to his word, he parts your asscheeks and drags his tongue up from your entrance to your asshole before swirling his tongue around the rim slowly.

”Holy shit,” you exhale breathlessly, fingers gripping the sink counter so hard your knuckles pale. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he groans in ecstasy, burying his face in your ass as he laps at your hole eagerly. “Want you to make a fucking mess for me—cover me in your cum, I want it all—don’t care who sees—”

You can only let out a broken wail as his tongue breaches the tight ring and his slick fingers find their way to your hypersensitive clit, tweaking the bundle of nerves and rubbing quick circles around it as your legs tremble and knees come dangerously close to buckling.

Tears start to build in your eyes as he delivers wet lash after wet lash to your rim with his tongue, swirling and dipping and flicking with almost alarming expertise and an overwhelming desire to make you come undone. 

Trembling whimpers fall freely from your lips, now uncaring about who might hear you through the door as Haechan’s mouth brings you close to yet another peak. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby? Hm? Gonna cum all over my fingers—want you to cum so bad, please—”

You’re not entirely sure if it’s the way he’s stimulating you and your clit or if it’s the entirely desperate pleading for you to cum, but you do just that, climaxing around his fingers with a poorly restrained moan of his name. A tremor of pleasure travels through your body as your legs shake and you bite down on your bottom lip so hard it hurts.

After one final long drag of his tongue up your slit and crack of your ass, he presses a sloppy wet kiss to your ass cheek before he stands up and starts to fumble with his costume, struggling slightly to find the small zipper at the back of his neck.

You giggle fondly, watching him in the mirror, and turn to face him, reaching behind him and finding the zipper with ease before pulling it down as far as you can reach. 

“Better?” you ask softly, and he nods, swallowing visibly. 

“Better,” he confirms with a small shy grin before shrugging out of the costume and pushing it down to his ankles, stepping out of the pool of fabric and towards you. He’s clad now in a gray short sleeved shirt and gray boxers that hug his length as it strains against the fabric. When you manage to stop staring at his imprint, you look up at him to see him watching you with a smug grin and an eyebrow raised, the shyness from earlier nowhere to be found.

“See something you like?” he asks teasingly, and you narrow your eyes before laughing and pushing his chest. 

“Shut up.” you mutter with a smile, and he catches your hand before it leaves his chest, linking his fingers with yours and kissing the inside of your wrist. Your eyes widen in mild surprise but he keeps kissing up your arm, lingering in the crook of your arm when you giggle, and up your shoulder and neck to connect with your lips in a heated, desperate kiss that makes you feel deliciously filthy when you taste your arousal on his tongue.

“Need to be inside of you,” he grunts, reaching between your bodies to palm at his length roughly. He pulls himself out of his boxers with a groan of relief before pushing you back against the sink counter none too gently and spreading your legs a bit wider.

“Gonna let me fuck your pretty pussy, baby?” he murmurs against your lips, bringing the head of his cock to your core, dragging it up and down along your folds and collecting the arousal to smear over the tip as lubrication.

“Yeah,” you half-whisper, half-groan, and he beams against your lips before pushing the tip of his length past your entrance, taking in a sharp breath as your walls wrap around him welcomingly, practically sucking him further in.

“God, this pussy just loves my cock, doesn’t it?” he teases you, and you whimper in protest, pushing on his chest to get him to stop. Undeterred, he continues on, “I know it does, baby, it’s okay.” All the while, he’s resisting your pushing and leaning closer still to connect his lips with yours over and over again, the only sounds in the room being his grunts of satisfaction when your mouths meet and lewd wet noises as you two kiss, your every breath and cry of pleasure muffled by his relentless kissing.

He starts to fuck into you slowly, gradually building to a pace that has your head tipping back and your lips parting as you desperately pant for air.

His hands roam your body greedily, grabbing at and groping your breasts, squeezing your hips and sliding back to grab at your ass before moving back up to tease at your nipples, pinching them, tweaking, flicking and tugging on them until you let out a pleasure-filled gasp.

Sensing your rapidly declining composure, he brings his lips to your jaw, sucking and licking his way down your neck and past your collarbones before he presses your breasts together and buries his face between them, his mouth leaving sinful trails of saliva as he makes his way to your nipples and sucks on them eagerly, swirling his tongue around the bud and flicking it up and down teasingly before switching to shower the other breast in attention.

Overwhelmed by all the pleasure and the practically static intensity in the air, you can only run your fingers through his hair as he licks and kisses all over your breasts. To your surprise, Haechan doesn’t let up on anything—the strokes into you, the attention given to your breasts, and the greedy caresses and grabs of the fleshier parts of your body like your hips, waist, ass—and his all-encompassing stimulation has you hurtling towards your next climax eagerly. 

Not a moment too soon, that deliciously familiar tugging sensation begins to manifest in the pit of your stomach, and your cries grow all the more plaintive as your orgasm starts to build.

“Hae—chan—” you gasp, nails digging none too gently into his shoulders, and Haechan winces in both pain and pleasure. “Gonna cum—wanna cum so bad—let me cum, please—”

“That’s it, baby, go on,” he urges you in a throaty murmur that only serves to send you hurtling towards the edge even faster. “Cum for me, baby, I know you can.”

With a broken, pleading whimper, you reach your peak, now very thankful for Haechan’s tight, damn near possessive grip on you as your legs start to buckle from the overwhelming sensations of pleasure flowing through you. 

He dips his head down, kissing down your cheek and finally mouthing languidly at the flesh of your neck, his tongue and teeth both making surprise appearances.

“One day, I’m gonna mark this pretty neck all over.” he slurs, practically drunk with lust as he pounds into you, his thrusts growing more erratic as his desperation to reach his climax increases.

“Haechan,” you moan, moving one hand from his shoulder to cup the back of his neck. “Haechan, are you gonna cum?” 

“Fuck—yes, baby, I’m about to cum,” he replies with gritted teeth, and you hum encouragingly, repeatedly flexing your walls around him. “Baby, please tell me I can cum in you—wanna fill you up—”

“Yes,” you agree immediately, and he cries out in relief, the sound of pleasure a bit choked off as he gives one final, deep thrust into you and stays there, burying himself to the hilt as he releases into you, your walls reflexively milking his cock for every last drop.

“You’re amazing,” Haechan whispers adoringly, kissing up your neck and stopping at your lips, pulling you impossibly closer for a slow yet deep kiss that leaves your mind reeling. “Literally like a dream come true.”

He pulls out of you carefully, using a makeshift wad of toilet paper to gingerly clean between your legs and tossing it in the toilet, following it shortly after with another wad he’s used to clean himself up. 

“You’d better not clog my toilet, sir,” you joke casually as you touch up your appearance in the mirror over the sink, not noticing until several beats later that Haechan hasn’t responded. When you look over at him curiously, you’re not expecting him to be eyeing you up like a predator about to pounce.

“I think you should avoid calling me things like ‘sir’ if you want to leave this bathroom and go back to that party any time soon.” Haechan warns you in a surprisingly serious voice, dark eyes staring directly into yours as a silent challenge.

You don’t know what’s come over you—possibly the post-nut dopamine rush making you more friendly—but you look over your shoulder at him with your eyebrows raised and a playful smile curling your lips.

“How about things like ‘Daddy’ instead?” you ask curiously, shifting your gaze to watch him in the mirror, and you watch in amusement as he tenses, his jaw clenching handsomely before he looks directly into the mirror and meets your gaze with such a “fuck around and find out” level of intensity that you look away immediately, eyes wide in surprise. 

“Keep playing if you want to.” he offers, and you shake your head.

“I’m done being difficult,” you inform him. “I’m busy grappling with the fact that not only did I let my friend’s boyfriend hit just now, but I let my friend’s boyfriend hit while he was dressed as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.”

Haechan laughs at that, the tension between you two dissipating in an instant, before picking up his orange eye mask and attempting to tie it around his face again.

You step in after his second failed attempt, gently taking the garment and placing it over his eyes, making sure the holes are aligned correctly before tying it securely behind his head.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, suddenly sounding a lot more bashful than you’re used to. 

You nod, placing your hands on his shoulders and squeezing gently. “You’re welcome.” you reply, but he doesn’t move, still looking into your eyes like he’s committing the sight of you like this to memory. “Haechan, this is the part where you move.” you inform him, and he blinks hard several times before breaking eye contact to look somewhere else.

“Sorry,” he grunts, stepping back so you can move from against the counter. “Wait!” he calls before you open the door, his hand curling around your forearm to pull you into what you assume is one last kiss.

You have to hand it to him; his kisses are nothing short of intense, and each one leaves you a little more mentally disheveled than the one before, which is the exact reason why you have to go quickly.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he calls after you as you step out of the bathroom into the darkened hallway, making sure to look both ways for any surprise witnesses.

As you make your way downstairs to rejoin the party, you flash through a myriad of emotions as you process everything that just took place, but you can’t help but notice that guilt has yet to show itself.

It does dawn on you about an hour later, however, as you catch Haechan watching you for the third time in the past fifteen minutes as you dance and joke with your friends, that you may have started something you can’t just stop on your own, cold turkey style. 

TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! the third part will be up in exactly one week! reminder that (only if you’re able) tips are very much appreciated, as is positive feedback! if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask and please make sure your privacy settings are updated accordingly!

LINKS: KO-FI // VENMO // CASHAPP // AMAZON WISHLIST // (if you’d like to support via paypal, let me know off anon!!)

DON’T WANNA WAIT TO READ THE WHOLE FIC? you can read it here on my patreon!!

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Ooo, I like that ask you answered about the MC wanting a large family one day! Could I please request that scenario, but with Deuce, Azul, Jack, Ruggie, and Idia?

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul would feel less stressed trapped in a room covered in mayo while a hungry Jade and Floyd cornered him after not eating for a week. One kid was already more than enough in his opinion but you’d want a metric ton of them?! He’d have to think of the pros and cons of it all, especially when he knew it’d effect his business and personal life. He likely wouldn’t be a fan of a huge family but two wasn’t too bad, right?

Deuce Spade:

It would be something Deuce needed to think about. He had a complex, worried about not being a good father as he never had a good example, but he slowly realized his mom was the perfect example of a parent. She had supported him, played every role, and after all the difficulties she had gone through, it was clear she still loved being a parent. He wanted to experience that, and while it would be much different as you’d be by his side, he wondered what challenges might present themselves when having multiple children.  

Idia Shroud:

You’re going to send Idia into cardiac arrest. He could hardly imagine himself having to take care of one baby, but you wanted MORE than one? A metric ton?! Video games only ever let him have two and even THAT was low maintenance, he rarely had to even glance at them as the game had them automatically taken care of. He can't bring himself to want a large family but he doesn't think he'd regret having one child, nervous about how you might feel when he tells you that a large family simply wasn't something he could imagine himself with.

Jack Howl:

The way it’s brought up makes him feel incredibly embarrassed, and Jack can’t put a number on it, but he did enjoy the idea of having a big family. Everyone in his family was highly energetic so having a pack of children running around wouldn’t make any of them blink an eye, and he wasn’t really intimidated by the idea. He’d have to learn as he went but he thought he had good role models for his transition into parenthood, and he was a little excited to know you wanted to have a family like this with him as well.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie’s a little wary of having a ton of kids. Maybe one, but having a ton of little mouths to feed was stressful. He knew he could probably do it as back home everyone supported each other, and he’d have a tight-knit community looking out for all of you. But he was still wary about putting them through a hard life if he couldn’t earn enough money as, while he valued his experiences, he didn’t know if he wanted that trend to continue with his own kids.

[hanafubukki]

I binged your Lilia with a baby daughter and I couldn't get enough. Can you imagine if General Lilia gets yeeted into that timeline and he finds out that not only did his future self marry a human but also actually have a child with her. If current timeline Half Faces are already kinda rare so imagine from his time where he's at war with them. Also how Lilia's little girl interacting with her Papa (who isn't really her Papa but also isn't lmao) Also, MC who he is married to. I just wanna see his Tsun Tsun ass be flustered but confused lmao. Ok, thank youuu!

[referring to these posts: 1, 2, and 3]

Hello Anonie 🌺🌷🌻

I'm happy that you enjoyed them anonie! I had a blast writing them. 🌟💚

Ohhhh Anonie you guys know how to hit my weak spots 😂💕💜 Babies, General Lilia, time travel shenanigans oh my 🤣💚 You and me 🤝 wants to see General Lilia tsun tsun butt be flustered mwah chef kiss.

General Lilia being sent to the future is a curse and a blessing...depending on who you ask 😂 jkjk

Just thinking about it and I just?? Love the thought of General Vanrouge meeting a new born baby or up to a 1 year old. Something about him just holding her with these awkward hands just has me so soft 😩🥹

But then I also think our Lilia might be possessive and go ‘My Baby’ on him, even though that’s literally himself 🤣

I have so many thoughts sooo many on how General Vanrouge’s reaction to Malleus and Silver could go, and even Sebek. But more so on Malleus and Silver. Also his reaction to his future self too, you know??

In reverse, our Lilia’s reaction to his past self. It can go many ways as well. Depending on how General Vanrouge reacts. Papa instincts ✨

But we’ll skip that because this ask is about baby and General Vanrouge ✨✨

A part of me thinks that our Lilia is going to just yeet the baby at his past self. Deja vu right?? Don’t worry, he knows himself and knows the General will catch the little one.

After flicking Lilia on the forehead for his actions and letting Mal and Sil deal with him, you go to the General who’s frozen. He caught her of course, but he seems stumped on what to do.

You can’t blame him really. After being in war and seeing and dealing with what he has. This peace and quiet must be new, not to mention being in the future.

So you go to him and as gently as possible, making sure to not frighten him, move his hands so he’s more comfortably holding the baby.

Unknown to him, but his eyes softened as the little one curled into him while making cooing noises. You know your Lilia is taking a bunch of pictures.

“See? You’re a natural.”

He looks at you in disbelief but you can see the amazement in them too.

You tell him how he has no choice but to hold the baby now because she will cry if you move her from her new favorite spot. He flusters a bit at that.

Time goes on, General Vanrouge wears casual clothing and hangs up his armor temporarily after Lilia had a talk with him. His weapon is with him, you all understand why. His need to protect what’s his is engraved even though he doesn’t see it yet.

[Sometimes you see your Lilia looking at the armor. His eyes mixed with emotions. You simply lay your head on his shoulder; he kisses your hand]

The General gets attached to your daughter. She babbles at him and pulls at his hair. He tries not to flinch. For someone who was against raising kids, the General doesn’t say anything when your daughter stuffs his hair into her mouth or drools on him as she sleeps.

Lilia’s proud, “that’s my girl!” is often heard.

At one point, you take pity on him. You take a hairbrush, running it carefully through his hair before tying it in a high bun. You fondly roll your eyes at the pout your Lilia has before taking your daughter to feed. For the General’s sake, you chose not to comment on his flustered expression.

Our Lilia is repeatedly saying “spoilers” which irritates the General whenever he asks a question. You get why it’s frustrating but the scene is rather funny and your baby girl’s laughter agrees with you.

“I won’t have you ruining my future! I’ll have you know I wouldn’t change anything for the happiness I have now, so you have to be patient.”

Malleus and Silver both have the sweetest smile. They know exactly what he means.

The General watches how his future self acts. You can see the slight scowl and twitch of his eyebrow. He’s questioning his whole existence.

What surprises you is his question to you.

“Are you sure you want to be married to that?”

“Hey!”

You laugh softly, tenderly tucking a stray strand behind his ear, “Yes. He’s you, isn’t he?”

The smile you give him then has him falling deeper unbeknownst to him.

Anabskdkds okay, but why am I the one flustered now?? Qbskwjwjejr 😂💞🥰

Ahhhhh this was longer than I expected but I had so many ideas and I wanted to especially include that last one 🥹💞

Thank you for sending this in Anonie 😭💚 Currently screaming into a pillow and rolling in bed. Ahhhhh 💞💞💞💚💚

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Can we get the obey me boys(the brothers + dia, barbs, solomon, and simeon) reacting to mc having severe period cramps? Would they get all demon-y at the smell of blood?

Love your stuff btw!

Signed, a yandere junkie~

I'll do two for now 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Period | Yandere Obey Me

For those in the devildom having a draw for chaos and mortal pain it’s quite normal for blood to bring about a different kind of reaction. But to the surprise of no one period blood and the whole menstrual cycle is a complete bafflement to all who catch a whiff. Don’t worry though, you have the brother and your various friends. This surely won’t strike any of them to have an unusual streak in emotion and self-control, right?:

Lucifer

“It’s that time I’m suspecting?”

“Yes.”

“Understood rest easy, take your time to rest my dear.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. Do you doubt my promise to keep you?”

One of the most casual about it 

He absolutely has done research for this exact occasion

But nothing is like experience in taking care of you himself

As well as the compulsion that has him being just as reactive as you

“You seem a bit different today Lucifer…”

“Am I? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oooh is that a gift from (Y/n)--”

“dON’t ToUCh tHaT!” 

“...”

“...”

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s with me this week.”

You’re not with him that’s what

For all the necessities he delivers he’s been keeping his distance

Taking the advice of the human care books he gave you your space

After all who better to deal with the human-female innerworkings than a human-female herself

But something feels wrong more than usual 

And it only seems to stop when he returns to your side at the end of the day

“Perhaps the hormones that are at work in you create a…guardian of sorts…out of me.”

He doesn’t really understand, all he knows is that when you were preparing to go to RAD he frantically calmly decided you’d not be attending

His excuse reasoning? That he would hate for any lesser demon to feel what he’s feeling 

That and he’d actually try to kill anyone who shows such similar inclination to protect you

“If anyone should stay to soothe you in this great time of need. I’m not above massacring any threats to you while you’re at your most vulnerable..” 

Generally he’s quite tame

…compared to his brothers

Diavolo

“Hey (Y/n) why’d you run off like that I thought we were having a good time.”

“Diavolo!?”

“Oh…hey (Y/n) if you’re hurt it’s okay to tell us we have tons of things that help heal humans.”

“Ugh! No that’s not what’s happening here!”

“Don’t be embarrassed here i’ll help!”

“Aghghgh!!!! Barbatos! Barb–Ah! Don’t you dare!”

A scolding and prompt lesson from Barbatos is very much in order

For someone so adamant on urging the blending of their worlds he doesn’t really know about this side of humanity

And unfortunately he’s never been one for backseat learning

“(Y/n), we’ve spoken and Diavolo would like to propose a hands-on-lesson with you about your menstrual cycle.”

“Uhm what kind of lesson?”

“One that will require he familiarize himself with all aspects of this process. Something that would preferably stimulate the five senses.”

“....”

“....”

“....Lucifer!!!! Solomon!!!”

Even better it has to do with you

What better way to strengthen your bond by having to monitor you

Not only for your safety but for all of humanity

“Hey later on we should definitely watch that movie together!”

“Oh yeah I thin–”

“I’m sorry but she cannot!”

“What why not?”

“Because she’s coming with me! The best place for a woman on muenster cycle is with me at the royal palace.”

“Uhm that’s not tr-”

“Here I’ll take you now!” 

He’s going to be hard to teach

But once you sit him down or snap at him one too many times

He’ll decide listening to you is the best course of action

In turn it will definitely build a relationship between you two

It may not be as romantic as he planned

But he’ll take it….for now 

After all there’s one every month

“That was fun! I can’t wait until the next time!”

Because he’s actively testing for it he might find some demons and creatures that react to it

But he won’t actively experiment with you in danger

Because it’s just not a good look to brutally murder every other subject of his that has a reaction he doesn’t like

“Next month I’ll have to convince them to let me get a swab or whole container full that’d be really hot.”

[vendetta-if]

Hi! Sorry if you've already answered this but what does each RO feel and think about MC path of either Justice or Revenge? (Heir path)

(Love to see what everyone else thinks as well)

I'm just curious to know what Rin truly thinks about MC going for revenge, because I feel like he's a bit reluctant? But also, an heir to a crime family going for justice? (Giving him over to the police after getting enough evidence to convict him) I can't really see him approve that, either.

I'm also curious of what their "preferred" heir MC is, Ruthless or Merciful, admired or feared etc.

Am definitely curious to know how that affects Ash as well. I love my little psycho MC (Definitely some Jinx vibes going on there) but then I get concerned and worried when I see Ash being like "Whoa, so cool! Never seen a body rain blood before, awesome! Whoo, murder! 🥳"

Then i'm like "Wait... No, this is bad Ash, BAD! Blood rain isn't awesome! It's horrifying! It's literally what happens in the APOCALYPSE! That's it, we're going to have a long talk when we get home about Wrong and Right!"

...then later when she gets her birthday present she'll giddily ask Luka if she can try torturing him too 😭

I feel so conflicted when Ash asks MC about what she will do with the killer... Then says what he wants, which is exactly the same, so I can't really tell him not to do the same... But it makes me so concerned every time, and guilty.

I don't want to bring my sweet, beloved firecracker down and even darker path than the one we're already on 😭

Ash and Rin prefer revenge to justice (letting the justice system do what it was supposed to do a long time ago). Probably because of the families and environment that they’re both raised and live in, they believe retaliation against such personal slight should be taken into their own hands.

However, whereas Ash’s revenge might be explosive and impulsive as they chase the quickest way to personally get their hands on the one who wronged them, Rin’s revenge is cold and calculating.

It’s full of reckoning, scheming, and pulling of strings behind the scenes and they’re content to let others to do the dirty work. They don’t really care about seeing the one who wronged them face-to-face and kill them with their own hands like Ash does.

That doesn’t make their revenge less personal though, and dare I say, sometimes, their revenge ends up being more drawn-out and torturous for the poor schmuck. The true definition of “revenge is a dish best served cold”.

And Rin does prefer Ruthless MC in the sense that they both have a more similar mindset. Of course, they’ll still love Merciful MC the same, but being with such kind MC makes them highly protective of them since they don’t want to see them get hurt or taken advantage of.

They’ll do whatever it takes to keep MC safe behind MC’s back, doing the necessary things that Merciful MC might not have the heart to do themself. Same thing with Ash as well, which is why in the Ash/MC/Rin poly, Ash and Rin will actually become really close and trusted confidantes of each other because they—almost all of the time—have the same mindset and overarching goal.

Santana and Skylar, of course, prefer justice and letting the right people dispense due punishment. Although, a more cynical Santana might not be too opposed to MC having revenge as well since they’ve seen firsthand how corrupt and sometimes incompetent the system is; they can’t really blame MC and the Morozovs to want to take matters into their own hands.

And as for your last sentence about Ash… 🥺 They’ll gladly walk with MC down a darker path. They actually feel they are already walking down that path a long time ago, especially since they accepted working as the Family’s enforcer… 😥

[koqabear]

Like Cat and Mouse!

☆ Playlist! ☆

"You seemed to have garnered quite the reputation for you on campus— one that had the word “trouble” following you like a shadow. But when you give Beomgyu an offer he couldn’t possibly turn down in exchange for helping you get your grades back up, how could he refuse? You can’t possibly be that hard to handle, right?"

Beomgyu x fem!reader, ft. Hueningkai

Genre: college au, slowburn (kinda..?), tutor!gyu x rich girl!mc, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 37.1K

Warnings: mc is a bitch, and maybe a bimbo? gyu wears glasses, and he’s like super super shy, mc gets sick for a scene, she rambles but its part of her character ok!, toxic relationships, pining/unrequited love, Yunjin is so fake here im sorry Yunjin, mentions of alcohol/drinking, the puppy gyu agenda is fucking strong here !!!

Smut warnings: multiple smut scenes first of all, fwb!huening, dom!hyuka, switch!mc, sub!gyu, (the worst case of sub gyu yet), virgin!gyu, breast play, dry humping, biting, pet names (f rec: princess, m rec: puppy, good boy, baby, slut, etc.)  mentions of bondage (f. rec.), spanking (f. rec.), degrading, praise, praise kink, finger sucking, oral (f. & m rec.), handjobs, mouth fucking, cum eating (?), explicit, verbal consent is not stated in two scenes but both parties are willing! Semi-public sex, overstimulation, slight thigh riding, marking, hair pulling (m. rec. lol), begging, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, cockwarming

notes: i don't even know what to say... there's really no reason for this to be so long, how did we get here. i hide my face in shame.

It all starts as an accident— a very inconvenient accident.

Really, it wasn’t your fault; how were you supposed to keep up with these endless assignments that only seemed to get worse as time went on? You had better things to do with your life— studying is way too much of a headache for you these days. 

Instead, your days have been filled along the lines of parties and trips your friends hold, gaining connections with people that always help things go next level; Empty vacation homes, yachts, even a private jet once— you were lucky enough to land a friendship with these type of people, the thought of taking things slow and worrying more about your education not crossing your mind anymore once you got a taste of the fast life. 

Which is exactly how you got where you are now. 

“There goes your man,” Yunjin’s elbow is sharp against your side as she whispers teasingly, the jab only making your frown deepen as you weakly attempt to shake her off. 

“Shut up.” That’s all you can manage as you go to lay your head down on the dining hall table, your appetite long gone as your head swims and your stomach twists with nausea; her single jab is enough to remind your body of its terrible shape, your eyes shutting tightly as you fight through the urge to hurl then and there. 

You’re not even sure of what she might mean— you don’t remember telling her about any recent hookups— hell, you don’t even remember gawking at anyone in your vicinity; so for her to be teasing you about this “man” of yours was strange, a pout forming on your lips as you try to focus on the cool feeling of the wood beneath your skin.

“I gotta go,” Yunjin says abruptly, your eyes opening to send her a confused look. All she can do is give you an eager smile, patting your head as she grabs her now empty coffee cup from the table. “Your man is coming this way.”

Before you can ask her what man she could possibly be talking about, she’s off, not bothering to look back as she sends you a little wave over her shoulder, perfectly manicured nails glittering under the sunlight that shines through the windows. 

The seat in front of yours is quickly filled. 

“You weren’t at our study session yesterday.”

Jesus. 

There’s not much you can say to that, clearly guilty as you choose to press your forehead against the cool table in response. Maybe, if you close your eyes, he’ll disappear— if only it were that easy. But instead, you’re stuck with Choi Beomgyu and the warm scent of coffee that follows him— god knows how many cups he drank as a substitution for sleep. Your lashes flutter against the table as you attempt to drown out his whines, surprised that he hasn't taken your unresponsiveness as a hint to go away.

“Have you ever gone to Paris?” You ask, the sentence flying from your mouth and interrupting his rambles. It’s enough to shut him up, sitting up as you plant your hands firmly on the table in a weak attempt to not lay your head back down.

“No, I haven’t.”

His response is typical— you didn’t care whether or not he would say yes, leaning into the table as you stare into his eyes; it’s clear he’s flustered by the action, leaning back in reciprocation as his pupils land everywhere but on you. 

“If you had the chance to go to Paris right now, would you?” It takes a moment before Beomgyu nods his head hesitantly, mouth opening as he prepares a new line of questioning for you. But you’re quick to cut him off again, clapping your hands in satisfaction as you stand up— his eyes follow your every movement, face resembling a lost puppy as he watches the way you get ready to leave.

“Exactly; Paris really is beautiful by the way, definitely recommend going. So you can’t blame me for ditching our study session yesterday, can you?” Tilting your head, you watch the puzzles connect in his mind. “We can always make it up or whatever, not that big of a deal.”

Turning around, you don’t bother saying goodbye to Beomgyu; your only thoughts center on your beautiful, comfy bed and how you’ll spend the rest of your day in it. You can hear him calling out to you, the sound of a chair scraping against tile catching your attention as you force yourself to walk faster. 

“We have class in fifteen minutes— where are you going?!”

He’s gaining up on you. You don’t care if you have to sprint out of the building, but the last thing you’ll do is get stuck in another of Beomgyu’s self-righteous rambles as you curse wildly under your breath. 

“Home— I’m sick!” 

Carelessly, the exit door is slammed on Beomgyu’s face— by accident, of course. Glancing back, you’re able to catch a glimpse of his pathetic puppy face, clearly discouraged from trying to continue chasing after you. 

Normally, one would be compelled to feel guilty— but the day is simply too nice, the weather so perfect as a spring wind brushes past your skin; the sun that slightly worsens your headache truly doesn’t seem that bad anymore. 

A perfect day to drive around and shop, in your humble opinion. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 

This new purse would be divine in your collection. 

The luxury bag in your hands is sleek and smooth as your fingertips glaze over the details, entranced by its chic beauty as you let your thoughts wander— formal events, birthday dinners, oh, the places you could take it…

The price tag is no joke— it has you counting numbers in your head, pondering just how much of your monthly allowance you have left; if you buy it now, you’ll have to say goodbye to the girls’ trip at Yunjin’s beach house in Cancun…

Treat yourself, a tiny voice whispers in your mind, you can always beg your parents for more money. 

The devil on your shoulder is compelling— it warps your vision, a pout forming on your face as it practically forces your eyes to see the item in a heavenly light; the last item in that specific collection, and it’s right at your disposal, only a card swipe away…

“Pretty bag,” your little devil hums, “It would look nice with that little black dress you’re always looking for an excuse to wear.” 

His hand is delicate and teasing on your shoulder, his hold on you tight as he pulls you into him protectively. You’re not as surprised as you should be as you look up at Hueningkai, pouting face innocently looking up at him as you shake your head in distress. 

“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to go with Yunjin to Cancun during spring break,” you whine, petulant as always as you refuse his reasoning— yet also refuse to let go of the bag and walk away. 

Anyone who knows you knows how you get about accessories— how obsessive you become with collecting them, your closet always filled to the brim as your need to buy becomes a borderline addiction. 

Maybe that’s why Hueningkai finds your dilemma so amusing, deft fingers snatching the purse from your hands and walking away wordlessly, leaving you to trot behind him as you continue to rant and stall, lingering by his side as a new item catches your eye; you inspect it curiously while the words uncontrollably fly out of your mouth. 

“I mean it’s not like I don’t have enough money, cause I could always ask my parents for more— and they’d gladly give it to me— but I always feel so horrible to ask for more, especially now that I’m supposed to be getting more independent, even though they always talk about spoiling me because I’m their only daughter, but still, I really want it but if I buy it I’ll have to ask them for more money, and it’s not even a big deal but it feels—“

“Oh my god, okay!” It seems you were too distracted by the tweed Chanel bag in your hands to anticipate the shopping bag that Hueningkai thrusts into your hands, exasperated at your ramblings as he swiftly manages to shut you up. 

You’re left speechless, sorting through the filling paper dumbly as you’re greeted with the same bag that Hueningkai snatched from you— your sparkly eyes look up at him in awe, unsure of what to say as he simply smiles at your reaction. 

“Huening…” you pout, clutching the bag to your chest with one hand as you slap his chest with the other— his very firm, strong chest… “you shouldn’t have.”

He’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you into him and guiding you out of the store as he leans into you; you can smell his cologne so perfectly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers softly into it.

“It’s okay,” he smiles, endeared by the way your eyes shine with anticipation to his words, “I know of a few ways you can make it up to me.” 

There’s no need to call your driver— Hueningkai knows the way to your apartment like the back of his hand, one relaxed at the steering wheel while the other plays with the hem of those skirts you always like to wear.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

“You’re such a tease,” Hueningkai’s lips are plump and bitten at as you smile against them, his hands never straying from your ass as he grasps at it, enjoying the way you grind against him expertly.

“Just wanna make you feel good,” you pant, the warm feeling of his hands on your tight-clad thighs making you whine, your pussy slotted perfectly against him as you feel the way he grows harder underneath you.

“You’re always so good to me…” you trail off the moment his lips begin to wander down your neck, attempting to pull off your thin sweater as his hands immediately find themselves on your breasts. He can only let out a breathy laugh at your words, his teeth sinking in the plump flesh softly before his fingers are working your bra off. 

“Always buying you your favorite things?” He rasps, groaning softly at the sight of your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as he looks up at you teasingly, “my princess will do anything for a pretty purse, hmm?” 

Frantically, you nod, his hips bucking into you as you feel the way his cock presses against you effortlessly; he’s as eager as you are, warm tongue on your skin making your thoughts run wild as you imagine what it would feel like to have him pressed against your cunt, helpless to your needs as your fingers card through his hair.

“Come on pretty girl, show me how grateful you are,” your thoughts are immediately dispelled as Hueningkai pushes you off, a gentle hand pushing away your hair before he’s guiding you down to your knees; his favorite sight, your doe eyes fluttering at him innocently as your hands make quick work of his belt. He can’t help but groan at the sight before him, lip caught in his teeth as he silently wishes for you to hurry. 

Hueningkai takes the belt from your hands, placing it to the side as he smiles down at you coyly— you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation, your mind going back to the many memories of your face pressed into the mattress as your bound hands desperately begged to touch him. Your fingers are delicate as they pull down his zipper— he’s become impatient, lips parting as he gets ready to make a witty comment. 

His thoughts are interrupted by a persistent ringing of your doorbell. 

He’s devastated as he flops back into your mattress— a loud groan escapes him, brows furrowing as he grows irritated at the ringing that echoes throughout your apartment. 

“Jesus, what the fuck is their problem?” He complains, running a hand through his hair before he sits back up; he’s smiling fondly at you as he caresses your cheek, sighing softly as he nods his head towards the door, “go see who it is, won’t you princess? Make it quick.” 

The look that you two share is nothing but mischievous, his lips connecting with yours in a chaste kiss as he helps you up; he’s tugging your sweater roughly over your chest, straightening your skirt before he’s sending you off— not without one last feel of you, the stinging sensation that lingers on your ass making you yelp as you send him a playful glare— he can only send you a sly look in return. 

This better be important, you can’t help but think, sighing heavily as another three persistent rings of your doorbell echo throughout— you groan, rolling your eyes as you swing the door open wildly.

You can’t say you’re surprised as Beomgyu stares back at you in shock, his wide eyes blinking rapidly as he takes you in.

“What.” Your tone is unwelcoming as you lean against your doorframe, arms crossing to cover your chest as you raise a brow at him in anticipation— he stutters uselessly, pushing up his glasses as his eyes fly about your apartment wildly— refusing to look at you for more than a second. 

“You didn’t answer my messages,” or calls, he whispers weakly, tugging at the hem of his sweater as he stares down at his dirtied shoes, his other arm hidden behind his back. He clears his throat, gulping as he looks into your eyes, pushing past the annoyed look that greets him as he continues, “You didn’t look well this morning, so I wanted to check up on you.”

You’re not sure what to say as Beomgyu whips out what was hidden behind his back—you’re leaning back as you stare at the cute, floral lunch bag that Beomgyu thrusts into your face, hesitantly taking it as you look back at Beomgyu in confusion; it feels warm in your arms.

“It’s soup.” He says, his ears reddening as he takes in the bewildered way you’re staring at him, “It’s my mom's recipe, it’s— it’s really good.”

“Yeah? We’ll be the judge of that,” Hueningkai has snuck up behind you as he wraps an arm around your waist, effectively pushing you back against him— you can feel how hard he is against the swell of your ass, eyes widening as you get what he’s hinting at, impatient fingers digging into your skin softly. 

Beomgyu seems just as surprised as you are at Hueningkai’s appearance, if not more. It becomes your turn to become embarrassed as you look over your shoulder to meet Hueningkai’s smug smile, his eyes glistening with curiosity as he looks back at Beomgyu, tilting his head as he frowns.

“Who are you anyway?” 

Beomgyu seems quite offended by his statement, looking at you in shock. You’re scrambling to cut Hueningkai off, letting out a soft laugh as you place a firm hand on his chest— the last thing you need is for Hueningkai to drive away one of the few people that would be willing to tutor you. 

“He’s just helping me out in some classes, that’s all,” you say, placing the lunch bag in his hands before you’re shooing him away, “Put this on the kitchen counter— I’ll see you in a bit.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t miss the look the two of you share— if anything, it makes his stomach twist in embarrassment, wanting to do nothing more than turn around and pretend as though he hadn’t interrupted you while you were— whatever it was. Hueningkai is cheery as he walks back into your apartment, not bothering to spare Beomgyu another glance as he disappears from your sight; your clearing throat is what gets Beomgyu’s mind back on track. 

“Right. Well,” you say, smiling awkwardly as you reach out for the door, “I’m feeling better. Thanks though!” 

Beomgyu is unable to get out another word as you’re closing the door on him, sneaking in a last comment as you cheerily yell “tell your mom I said thank you!” Uncaring of his reaction as the door shuts in his face; he suddenly thinks back to this morning, shuddering at the memory of him having to walk back to the other exit of the dining hall, towards the building his classes were in— your shared class, specifically— forced to ignore the strange looks everyone gave him as he stared straight at the ground. 

“Isn’t he younger than us? Why was he talking to me like that,” he quietly pouts, his protests left unheard as he’s forced to walk back home, eyes glued to the sidewalk in dismay— the feeling is dreadfully familiar.

“Well that’s sad,” Hueningkai remarks, peeking through your blinds as he watches Beomgyu’s figure grow smaller, “Are you actually gonna eat that?”

His eyes flick back to the lunch bag that sits innocently at your counter—you simply shrug, feeling oddly protective of the item as you tuck it behind you, leaning against the counter as you sigh softly.

“His mom made it, I’d feel bad if I didn’t,” you say, biting at your lips as you watch the way Hueningkai laughs in disbelief. You feel a bit bad as you think back to the way you turned him away, his expression pitiful and sad as you slammed the door on his face for the second time today. Yet you don’t get much time to think about it as Hueningkai begins to approach you, hands effortlessly finding themselves on your waist as your head tilts to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss. 

“Can’t believe he interrupted us for so long,” you feel him smile against your lips as he presses you back against the counter, ready to hike your skirt up as his other hand is eagerly wrapping your leg around his waist, “will you make it up to me?”

Beomgyu disappears from your mind like smoke— the smile against your lips is contagious, your hand gently pressing against his chest as you roll your hips teasingly into his, a broken moan falling from both your lips. 

“Of course.“

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

The rest of the day is quite underwhelming. 

You’ve been left with a good fuck and a nice purse, but as you lay in your bed, you can’t help but notice the way your headache never really left— it’s been nothing but a dull ache until now, the pain persistent and growing as you sigh in exasperation; none of your usual remedies have worked for you so far. 

Your body feels hot and weak, yet you’re left shivering as the blankets keep endlessly stacking on top of you. Not even your weighted blanket can lull you to sleep, your figure restless as you toss and turn in your bed, your phone buried in your puzzle of fabric. You’re in nothing but pain— you hate feeling like this, and the sudden grumbling of your stomach truly isn’t helping either. 

Left with no other options, you trudge to the kitchen, opening your fridge as you mentally brace yourself— it’s been a while since you’ve shopped for groceries; there’s not much in there that you could eat quickly, and you can’t find any energy within you to cook. 

The cool fridge door is welcoming against your skin— yet it’s also bothersome as you begin to shiver at the cold, closing the fridge quickly as you frown to yourself; whatever your body has come down with, it sure is annoying. Taking a moment to think, you suddenly find your eyes gravitating to a certain item; ergo, the floral lunch bag that remains untouched on your counter. 

It hasn’t been that long— an hour or two, at most. Whatever Beomgyu gave you couldn’t have spoiled by now, right? 

It’s soup, you recall him saying, biting your lip as you take the lunch bag to your small table, my mom's recipe. 

Unpacking the contents, you hum in surprise— yeah, this looks like a mothers cooking. The Tupperware he’s provided you with is filled to the brim with a nice broth that is still warm to the touch, a side of rice and vegetables also packed inside for you; you’re unable to stop a small awe from escaping you as you take out a small container of tea that has been stored inside for you as well, surprised at how much Beomgyu’s mother packed for you. 

Does she think we’re friends? Is this her way of making me stick with him? You wonder, biting at your lip as you hold back a laugh at the thought— a poor momma’s boy, struggling to make friends as his mother attempts to subtly help him. 

It’s no secret that Beomgyu was a bit of a loner— that’s why you reached out to him in the first place. You knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse you, because he couldn’t even give you the excuse that he had no time; that, and the hefty sum you gave him in exchange for tutoring someone as difficult as you. 

To a degree, you were self-aware— but it only came after the fifth person rejected your offer, saying that you probably wouldn’t even commit once you started. No matter how pissed you were when you were first told that, you were unable to disagree; unfortunately, it also sparked a deep spiraling of self-reflection as your new self-awareness brought you to Beomgyu; by then you were so desperate and ashamed that Beomgyu probably only accepted because he felt bad. 

Tutoring with Beomgyu had its benefits; he was nice, and quite the pushover as well. He never protested too much when you canceled on him, and the most you ever got from being annoying was a long scolding or an exasperated sigh from him— plus, now it seems that free food has been thrown into the mix.

Settling down at the table, you found yourself oddly restless as you went to fetch a small blanket from your bed— it was only then that you were able to find your phone, gasping as it landed roughly on the floor. Going back to the kitchen, you were now able to make yourself comfortable, sitting at your table as you took off the lids of everything that was packed for you— even the tea was still nice and warm in its thermos, everything packed with such care and attention to detail that you couldn’t help but take a picture of it. 

It was delicious as well; the soup was comforting and not too overwhelming on your senses as you mixed in bites of the white rice, fluffy and cooked to perfection as you melted in your seat with every spoonful. The vegetables were steamed and well seasoned; you practically squealed from happiness as you ate, not used to having such a big meal cooked by someone else these days. 

It filled you up quickly— the ginger tea was soothing against your throat, the taste of honey and lime mixed in leaving you warm and fuzzy as you tiredly trudged to bed; you’d have to beg Beomgyu to invite you to his mother’s house later. 

Maybe it did work, you briefly think to yourself, your mind quickly emptying as you make yourself comfortable in your bed, that only made me want to talk to Beomgyu more— maybe it wouldn’t be too bad being his friend. 

A soft laugh escapes you at the thought— your eyelids feel heavy as you struggle to stay awake, eager to sleep through this brief sickness that threatens to overtake you. After this, you’re sure it’ll be an easy recovery.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You think you’re dying. 

You’re hot and sweaty as you kick away your blankets for the umpteenth time, irritated as your body quickly begins to shiver instead. You’re only able to sleep for a few hours at a time, on the verge of tears as the clock on your bedside table reads nine pm— you’re unsure of what to do, already taking medication a few hours ago that seemed to do nothing. Your body is burning up as you toss and turn a bit more, dreading the new train of thought that enters your mind.

Maybe you should call someone.

Maybe they’ll know what to do, you think, holding back nausea that threatens to knock you out as you slowly sit up; scrolling through your contacts, you hesitantly press call to the first person you could think of. 

It rings once— then again, then a few times more before it goes straight to voicemail. 

“Hey, you’ve reached Yunjin’s voicemail. Please leave a messa—“ you sigh as you hang up, attempting to call a few times more before you give up entirely. 

She’s probably at a party. Or with some boy. 

Scrolling through your contacts, you choose your next person carefully— you’re sure they’re not busy right now, they’ve never been one to go to parties as often— 

Ning Ning’s phone goes straight to voicemail as well. 

Groaning, you lay back as you feel your head pounding, your mind racing as you attempt to go through a mental checklist of who you could call— but all you can conclude is that they’re busy, wouldn’t want to help, or you’re simply not that close to them.

“What the hell,” you mumble, pressing your face against your pillow as you sniffle softly— your headache has become unbearable, and you’ve always been a big crybaby whenever you got sick. 

“Do I not have any friends?” You ponder, your stomach sinking at the thought— there’s no way! If anything, your phone was always on silent from the number of notifications you got in a day; you always knew at least ten people when you walked in a room, the elite definition of a social butterfly— the last thing you would consider yourself is friendless. 

Maybe it’s just an unlucky time, you think, playing Russian roulette with your contacts as your finger presses on a random one; Hueningkai <;3 glares back at you in bright letters, your eyes narrowing as you consider calling— he’s always been one to spoil you, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched for him to help you this once, right?

You’re nervous as the phone rings out into your room, your fingers tapping on your bed impatiently as you wait for him to pick up— just when you think he won’t, his voice greets your ears like a miracle. 

“Hey baby, what’s up?” His voice is a bit rough as he speaks, his speech slow and relaxed as your eyes narrow at the sound; he’s probably high again. 

“Hueningkai,” you cry out softly, unable to help the way you become emotional in your state— your voice is muffled, your face buried in your pillow as the pain becomes far too overwhelming. 

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice has become more alert at the sound of your sniffling, the sounds of rustling from his side making you wince, your hand going to lower the volume of your phone. 

“Dunno. I’m sick,” you say, flipping over onto your back as you stare up at the ceiling— you feel tired, yet you’re unable to get comfortable enough to sleep. You hear more rustling on the other side of the phone— Hueningkai sighs, mumbling something to himself before he clears his throat.

“Why don’t you go to the doctor, hmm?” You frown at his words, shaking your head at the thought— you weren’t really expecting this outcome. 

“I— I can’t really get up, I feel dizzy…” you confess sheepishly, the realization that you truly don’t have enough energy to even stand for too long weighing down on you, “I was wondering if you could come over?” 

“Come over?” Hueningkai echoes, humming softly at the thought— it’s silent, the tension leaving you biting at your lips as you wait for him to respond.

“Listen, uhm,” you sigh softly at his words, closing your eyes as you attempt to ignore the way your stomach dips with disappointment, “I’m kinda busy right now. But if you want, you can call me tomorrow and I can take you to the doctor, ‘kay?” 

Attempting to swallow down your disappointment, you nod, a moment of silence passing before you realize that he can’t even see you. 

“Yeah. Okay.” There’s a lump in your throat as you speak, and you can’t help but feel the way your body heats up as the line falls silent; from embarrassment, this time. It’s awkward, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Hueningkai mumbles a soft “okay then. Goodnight,” the sound of him hanging up the last thing you hear before you’re shrouded in complete silence, the darkness of your room threatening to swallow you whole. 

The sound of your stomach growling angrily is the only thing that breaks the silence. 

A frustrated groan tears through you— you’re oddly emotional as you force yourself to sit up, pausing as you attempt to maintain balance; your head is spinning, and you’re beginning to realize how long it’s been since you last ate. The floor is cold under your feet as you trudge to the kitchen; you can’t bring yourself to turn on the lights, your slippers lost somewhere in your room as you feel a shiver wrack through your body. 

What will you do? Your fridge is practically empty and takeout doesn’t sound too appealing to you; you can feel tears well up in your eyes once more, a pout forming on your face as you slump down on a chair in defeat. Sighing, you think back to earlier— the homemade food Beomgyu brought to you, so soothing and filling it almost reminded you of the meals your cook back at home would make for you— maybe you could call your driver to take you home for a bit. 

It’s hours away and he’s probably off right now, you frown, checking the time on your phone just in case— 9:45— yeah, he’s definitely home by now. Of course, nothing is stopping you from calling him and telling him it’s an emergency, but then you’d feel far too guilty about ripping him away from his family just for you. 

He spends enough time at our home as it is, you think, placing your phone on the table as you go to massage your temples weakly. You need to eat something— maybe you’ll get some energy from it. But, picky as always, you can’t seem to find anything that sounds appealing to you; even the restaurant you frequently eat at doesn't seem to be doing anything for you, your mind inevitably going back to the one thing you were avoiding. 

Hesitantly, you pick up your phone— you can’t believe you’re actually going to try this, you think, biting at your lip before you finally press call; then again, this isn’t entirely out of character for you.

A lonely college student that doesn’t have many friends— if anything, he’s probably up studying right now, you think, frowning as you press your phone firmly to your ear, and if he was willing to check up on me, he should be willing to do this small thing for me too. 

“Hello?” The relief that floods through you is surprising; you’re becoming lax against your seat as the sound of Beomgyu’s uncertain voice meets your ears— his voice is gruff and soft as he speaks, unsure of whether or not you called him on purpose. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” you whine, already feeling yourself becoming unnecessarily emotional as you allow yourself to rant to him, “I’m sick. Can you do me a small favor?” 

On his end, Beomgyu is oddly surprised— why would you go to him of all people? He’s a bit weary as he listens to you carefully, thinking back to the way you were able to shut him out effortlessly; if anything, he must’ve been your last resort.

“What is it?” 

You’re unable to hold back the sigh of relief that escapes you— a smile graces your lips, and for the first time during this miserable experience, you don’t feel helpless. 

“Okay, hear me out please,” you start, sitting up as you clear your throat; unbeknownst to Beomgyu, you’re about to begin one of your infamous ramblings. 

“I know you might be busy studying or whatever, but I promise I’ll be quick. So, you remember the food you gave me earlier? I actually ate it, and it was really good! Your mom is a good cook, but then again, I’m pretty sure all moms are pretty good cooks. But like, I’m gonna be honest with you, I forgot to get groceries earlier this week, so I don’t really have much to eat— I could go order takeout or something but the thought of eating something greasy right now makes me wanna puke. I was thinking that since you probably don’t go out that much your mom might have given you extra servings of that soup, and I know it sounds really entitled and a bit bitchy but do you think you could please please please drop some off? 

“I promise I’ll pay you whatever and you seriously only need to drop it off at my door, it’s just that her cooking was really good and I almost started crying when I ate it— I get really emotional when I’m sick so I also think it’d be best for you to leave as quickly as you can; please please please please I promise I won’t ditch our study sessions for a good week at least, I’ll be good and study! I just think I’m gonna pass out right now and your mom’s food is the only thing I can think of right now… please?”

You feel out of breath as you finally finish your seemingly endless ramble— on the other side of the line, Beomgyu lets out an exasperated laugh. 

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be there.” You’re not sure when you began to get emotional over nothing, but you’re surprised to feel hot tears streaming down your face at Beomgyu’s words, a few hiccups escaping you as you let out a soft really? “Yeah, I’ll just leave it at your doorstep.”

Standing up, you stumble a bit as you wipe your tears away. If you hadn’t scared Beomgyu away before, you surely did now. 

“Drop it off inside. My door’s gonna be unlocked.”

There’s an odd pause after you say that; you’re about to question what happened before you hear rustling on his side of the phone, Beomgyu’s soft hum the last thing you hear before he lets out a soft “okay. I’ll be there.” You’re unable to thank him as he’s quick to hang up— and the exhaustion that has been building up inside you all day is suddenly released, the promise of food making your brain at ease as you slowly make your way over to the couch. 

You’re so tired— a small nap wouldn’t hurt, right? It would be nice to wake up to the sight of food at my doorstep, you think, a small smile easing onto your face as you find yourself curling up at the end of your couch; oh, you really can’t help yourself— your eyelids are becoming excruciatingly heavy. 

For the umpteenth time today, you allow yourself to sleep— even if it’ll only last twenty minutes at most. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu is a little off-put as he peeks inside your apartment. 

He feels odd, extremely guilty, and a bit shameful as he pops his head inside, all of his calls have gone to voicemail as he chose the next best option— you did say your door was unlocked, after all. 

He expected you to be scolding him for taking so long after forty minutes had passed, but he found himself pleasantly surprised (and somewhat worried) when his phone remained entirely unbothered; so now here he stands, multiple heavy bags filled with ingredients in his hands as he kicks off his shoes clumsily. 

He finds you fast asleep on the couch; he’s extremely concerned at how trusting you are, but he decides to chalk it up to the fact that your skin is burning hot to the touch and you’re probably not thinking straight— Beomgyu is quick to pull his palm away from your forehead the moment you stir even slightly, jolting into action as he flees into your kitchen instead. 

Placing the bags on your table, he looks back at you in worry— all he can do for now is wet a few paper towels, wringing out as much water as he can before he’s making his way to you cautiously; you’re burning up and sweaty as he dabs the towel on your skin, tutting softly as he finally places the towel on your forehead. 

“I knew you weren’t feeling well,” he scolds you softly, pulling the blanket that has fallen off your shoulders back on you carefully before he’s pulling away, rolling his eyes at the sight, “you’re lucky you practically pay my bills.”

Quietly, Beomgyu gets to work— he feels a bit bad for rummaging through your kitchen so boldly, but he’s sure you wouldn’t really mind if you woke up; you’re the one who invited him in the first place. 

At some point, Beomgyu finds himself quite comfortable in your kitchen— it’s quite spacious and allows him to get lost deep in his thoughts; he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s unable to pick up on the fact that you’re wide awake and slowly trudging your way to him. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” the sound of your voice is enough for him to practically jump out of his skin, narrowly missing his finger as he hurriedly drops the knife in his hands, spinning around wildly as he presses himself tightly against the counter— your tired and puffy face is eerily close to his as your lidded eyes stare up at him, still heavy with sleep as you frown softly. 

“What,” you mumble softly, taking in his flustered expression before your eyes are wandering to the mess behind him— the cutting board of vegetables, the stovetop that is busy with two pots simmering away, a familiar aroma filling your apartment; your eyes flick back to the way he seems both guilty and embarrassed, your head tilting as he watches you slowly piece everything together, “what is all this? Where’s your mom's food?”

Well, maybe not.

Beomgyu sighs— the sight of him shaking his head in dismay is enough to have your eyes widening with surprise, watching as he slowly turns his back to you; the constant rhythm of him cutting vegetables is the only sound that fills the room, and it seems that Beomgyu won’t be answering your question any time soon; you’re ready to protest and annoy him until he talks, but it seems he’s quick to beat you to it. 

“My mom wasn’t the one who made it,” he sighs, putting his knife down as he quickly goes to the pot of soup to give it a mix; your eyes are fluttering shut at the smell, a small smile gracing your lips as you fight the urge to have a taste then and there; but you’re snapped back to reality from his words, stammering as you look at him in confusion. 

“But— you said it was—“

“My mother's recipe,” he draws out, dropping the seasoned vegetables into a third pot as you watch them get steamed, “I’m the one who made the food.”

You think back to the floral lunch bag he handed to you hours earlier; how he seemed so hesitant to give it to you, oddly pouty as he watched the way you were quick to hand it to someone else— you feel yourself become embarrassed by your behavior, oddly defensive as you remember how much you begged for him to give you another taste.

“Oh. Okay,” you say, clearing your throat as you slump back down on a chair— you found it entirely too exhausting to be standing for that long, “it was the next best thing for me anyway— my driver is off right now so I have no one to take me anywhere.”

“I see you’re feeling better,” Beomgyu mumbles, rolling his eyes at your actions as your usual bratty self resurfaces; he almost found your delirious, emotional self from earlier more welcoming than this, forced to listen to more of your ramblings as you watch him cook. 

“No. Not at all actually,” you complain, the ache in your body suddenly much more noticeable than it was a few minutes ago as you cross your legs on the chair; you’re huddled up in your blanket again, staring at his back as you practically take out your pain on him, “my head feels like its gonna explode— my body’s so fucking hot but I can’t take this blanket off or else I’ll feel like I’m freezing my ass off. I don’t know what to do because I never get sick like this; if anything, I should’ve called our family doctor instead of you.” 

You feel a bit bad as the words come out sharper than you intended— Beomgyu is easy to read as he flinches at your statement, head ducked down and an awkward silence permeating the room as he says nothing in response. 

“…you’re lucky your mom taught you how to cook,”  you backtrack, your voice oddly soft as you press your lips together; you refuse to say anything more as you curl up tightly on the chair, laying your head down on the table as you attempt to let your blanket shield you from the world— you’re back to your unpredictable, emotional self as you feel a lump forming in your throat, a feeling of longing forming inside you as you wish you were home instead of here, pestering your poor tutor in exchange for a hefty sum of money.

“Hey,” his voice is much closer than you expected it to be as you peek up from your small fortress, raising a brow as you stare at the glass of water and pills in his hand, “take this. I’m guessing you haven’t taken any medication for your fever in a while.”

A soft ‘hmph’ is all that leaves you as you reluctantly accept the medicine (because the truth was that he was right). It isn’t until he shows you what he’s giving you as you take the pills begrudgingly; you hate that he can see through you so easily. Chugging down the glass of water, you fail to notice how he waits beside you patiently, sending him a petulant look as you wait for him to say something— instead, he raises a small thermometer to your forehead, taking your temperature as he lets out a soft tsk.

“Your temperature is way too high. Eat, then go back to sleep,” he says, only leaving your side to get you a proper serving of soup; it’s the same meal you had earlier, but you’re oddly excited as you notice the hefty amount of rice he gave you, a new side of him peeking through as he watches you carefully— it’s only when you send him a questioning look that he becomes red in the face, clearing his throat awkwardly as he points back to the mess behind him.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it,” he mumbles, not bothering to look you in the eyes as he quietly begins to take care of the dishes. 

“I wasn’t going to,” you remark, your mouth still full of rice as you scoff softly at his excuse— you find yourself oddly annoyed with him as you take in just how much he’s doing for you, unable to fathom anyone else doing all this for you, unprovoked.

He must really need the money, you reason with yourself, unsure of why else he would do such a thing— you roll your eyes at the thought, any intimacy that might have come from all this dissolving into thin air as you become oddly irritated with him. 

But you will admit, this soup really hits the spot. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’re out like a light moments after. 

If Beomgyu said he was surprised, it would definitely be a lie; you were barely awake on your couch for more than five minutes, and by the time Beomgyu finishes cleaning up and putting away the leftover ingredients in your fridge (which was criminally empty for someone who had so much money) you’re already curled back up in your corner of the couch, your temperature only having gone down slightly as you begin to toss and turn in your sleep. 

The wet paper towels that Beomgyu had placed on you earlier are folded neatly on your coffee table— Beomgyu huffs softly as he discards it, wetting some more before he’s placing it carefully on your forehead; he’s unsure of what else to do now, standing back awkwardly as he considers staying to watch over you— your condition seemed pretty serious from how high your temperature was, and it certainly didn’t help that you straight up rammed into the kitchen table and injured your shin from how unstable you were. 

And that’s when you became a crybaby once more. 

He can still see the lingering tears that cling to your lashes, a soft pout forming on your lips as you shiver slightly at the touch of the cool towel. What to do, he ponders, sitting on the couch opposite to you as he watches over you carefully, he’s not sure if there’s anyone else that could take care of you. 

Hell, the fact that he’s here of all people is enough to prove that to him; but also, he should really be studying for that upcoming physics exam that has been concerning him a bit. He glances back at you— calm, undisturbed, only shifting every once in a while as you tuck yourself deeper into the blanket you wrapped tightly around yourself— and he sighs, finding himself oddly torn as he wonders whether he should leave you or not. 

He could go back home and study, but he knows that he wouldn’t get very far, thoughts of you and your condition plaguing his mind as he desperately tried to focus. His thoughts are disrupted as you groan softly in discomfort, shifting restlessly on the couch before your eyes are fluttering open, locking with his instantly. 

“You’re still here,” you murmur, squinting at him as you cough softly, “thought you’d be gone by now.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him; it’s oddly condescending as he finds himself standing up instantly, clearing his throat as he looks away from you and your searing gaze. 

“Yeah,” he says, feeling strangely flustered as he makes his way to the front door; your eyes follow him the whole way there, and he feels so small under your gaze as he goes to slip his coat on. “I was just leaving.”

“Oh. ‘kay,” you shrug, shifting restlessly on the couch before you’re turning your back to him, curled into a ball as you wave at him weakly, “I’ll Venmo you later.”

He can’t help but feel bristled at your careless attitude, still not used to the way you’re always ready to spend money at the drop of a hat despite tutoring you for weeks now. Tying his shoes, he can’t help but glance at you one last time; it pains him to admit he’s slightly worried for you, but the rational part of him tells him it’s just because he doesn’t want you calling him to come back the moment you’re feeling nauseous again. 

Yet you remain still, resembling a rock as your figure is hidden under countless piles of blankets— judging by the steady rise and fall of it, he figures you already fell back asleep. 

It takes Beomgyu an embarrassingly long time to leave— but only because he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t wake up spontaneously and start whining, of course— you remain dead to the world the whole time he watches over you. 

By the time Beomgyu finally makes it out of your doorway, he feels more frustrated than anything. Because even once he gets home to study, he can’t help but keep his phone close-by, worried that you’ll call out of the blue asking for help. 

His phone remains silent all night.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

The next time Beomgyu sees you, he’s reminded as to why you had so many difficulties getting a tutor.

You’re flashy and perfect as always as you stand in the doorway of his apartment, arms crossed and eyes no-doubt narrowed behind your expensive designer shades. Your foot is tapping impatiently at the concrete outside as you tilt your head in annoyance— Beomgyu had made the mistake to ignore the first few rings of his doorbell, much too distracted by his game to remember that it would be you waiting for him.

“So? You gonna let me in, or do you need to tidy up first?” Beeomgyu’s mantra consists of how short your lesson will be today and the paycheck he’ll get out of it— one of the perks of you being desperate was that Beomgyu got to raise his rates shamelessly— and it takes Beomgyu a second to push past your intimidating and prickly demeanor to nod his head and step aside, watching as you push your shades up and secure them on your head.

It takes you a second to slip out of your shoes as you daintily put them aside, and Beomgyu can feel his ears become hot as he watches the way you wince slightly at the pair of guest slippers he hands you— though he tries to tell himself you don’t mean to be like this, a soothing lie that lets him lead you to his living room as he ignores his insecurity.

“Wait, can’t we just go to your room? I don’t feel like studying on the couch right now,” the yawn that rips through you is uncontrollable as you face away and cover your mouth politely— Beomgyu tries to not let his jaw drop to the floor in response. For someone who had never been to his apartment, you sure were demanding. He shouldn’t feel too surprised though, given how blunt you’ve proved to be the entire time he’s known you. 

He’s unable to say no as he gathers the textbook and notebooks on the table and leads the way; he can feel his heart pounding against his chest in fear that you’ll judge him, heart pounding slightly as he goes to lead you to where his room is. (He just hopes you’ll judge him internally, at the very least.)

Meanwhile, you’ve been biting back a smile this whole time; you know you’ve been quite bitchy to him this whole time, but you’d like to think it’s karma for making you study first thing at nine in the morning— his excuse had been the long shift he’d have to cover straight after the tutoring session. 

You’re quite surprised at the size and state of his apartment, expecting something much… cheaper, as you kept in mind how quick Beomgyu was to do something whenever you offered him money. Yet as you walk to his room, you’re left quiet as you take in the way everything in his home practically shines; his coffee table, the couch that lacks any crumbs or trash, and his carpet that seems to be recently vacuumed. 

You find yourself so caught up in the appearance of his apartment that you fail to notice another presence in the living room; specifically, one that lets out a loud chirp, your body jumping back from the startle and eyes growing wide as you search for the source of the sound— your eyes land on a cage tucked in the corner of the room, a bright green bird with big eyes staring at you curiously from within. 

“What the fuck is that?” you say softly— much louder than you intended, really— and Beomgyu is turning back around to see what you’re talking about, eyes widening as he realizes you’re currently staring down his bird with a slight wonder. 

“Oh— that’s Toto,” Beomgyu says, rushing to put everything in his arms down and scurrying after when he notices you beginning to get closer; he’s hovering over you, taking in your expression of curiosity carefully before he continues. “He’s my parrot.”

You let out a soft oh. You seem rooted to your spot as you watch the bird continue to climb around the cage, clearly much more active now that Beomgyu is nearby; the said man notes your obvious curiosity, and before he can stop and have any second thoughts, he’s reaching over you to open the cage. 

“Wait wait, what’re you—” a yelp escapes you and you’re jumping back the moment Beomgyu is reaching inside, hiding behind him and peeking over his shoulder to watch the way he extends a finger out to the bird— Toto— your mouth falling open dumbly as you take in the way the bird immediately climbs onto his hand.

Beomgyu is careful to take him out; you’re still peeking from behind him as you stare down his bird with wide eyes, body tensed as though it could fly away any given moment— you’re flinching in surprise when he’s turning to face you, hands coming up in defense as the bright green bird swings along, not a thought in its beady eyes as it’s suddenly thrust into your face— you step back again, the movement sudden and startling the bird as its wings flap slightly, which in turn startles you again— Beomgyu merely watches in amusement, and he tries his best to contain his laugh in fear of facing your prickly attitude. 

“What the hell,” you breathe out softly, brows twitching and knitting together as you stare at Toto as though it were a foreign creature you’ve never seen, “It’s so… weird looking.”

Beomgyu can only gawk at your comment. 

“He’s— he’s not,” is all Beomgyu can say in rebuttal, offended as he looks over at Toto, examining him in reassurance before he pulls his pet closer to his chest. 

“He’s a handsome little bird,” Beomgyu mutters, and you’re sure you definitely weren’t supposed to hear that, watching in amazement as Beomgyu strokes Toto’s head fondly, the said bird bowing its head so he can get better access, “you’re such a cool guy, don’t listen to her Toto.”

Glancing back at you, Beomgyu seems to realize what he’s just said, and blushes a soft pink— though you’re not sure why he’s acting so shy, you’ve literally been standing there the whole time— and he clears his throat awkwardly, casting his gaze back to his pet and running his finger along the bird gently before he’s speaking again. 

“Do you wanna hold him?”

“I— what?!” you say indignantly, eyes growing the size of saucers as you stare at him, acting as though he’s just told you something extremely offensive, “I don’t want that thing near me, what if it— it…”

You’re trailing off slowly— Beomgyu looks absolutely dejected. You can tell he’s trying not to show his hurt, avoiding your gaze and staring down at Toto instead, but he simply reminds you too much of a kicked puppy to let you continue your baffled ramblings; a moment passes where the two of you don’t say anything, but you finally break the second Beomgyu looks like he’s about to put Toto back in. 

“Fine.”

He looks back at you immediately; his eyes look like they’ve been filled with stars. 

“Give— give me the bird,” you mumble offhandedly, outstretching your hand awkwardly and finding yourself unable to look at him for once; you can feel the heat of embarrassment threatening to creep onto your skin, but you will it away and bite your cheek as you wait for Beomgyu to do something.

After a second, you feel it; the pressure on your finger, the weird texture and the claws that dig into your skin as the bird’s little feet wrap around you, unable to contain the way you shudder at the feeling; your arm has gone rigid and you’re reluctant to look at the pet that is now perched on your hand, afraid that it might attack you or something— but after a deep breath and some mental encouragement, you do it anyway. 

This thing is so fucking creepy, you find yourself thinking, face screwing into one of disdain as you take in the way it simply remains still, freaking you out even further when it suddenly tilts its head in curiosity. 

It begins to climb up your arm. 

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” you breathe out in a panic, extending your arm away from you as steadily and quickly as you can, the thing now perched on your forearm as you bite back a squeal of fear— you’re looking over at Beomgyu in a haste, expression blatantly screaming help me!— and he quickly springs into action the moment your eyes meet. 

“Toto,” Beomgyu coos, clicking his tongue and reaching out to place his hand at Toto’s feet; but the bird only continues to climb up and runs away from Beomgyu, a long, slightly terrified, groan leaving your lips as you can only watch it in horror, much too afraid to jerk your arm and send Toto flying; the moment it’s talons find its way onto your shoulder, you find yourself looking away and praying. 

“Toto,” Beomgyu tries again, a little stressed now as he watches his bird perch peacefully on your shoulder— you, on the other hand, are in utter distress, shoulders tense and eyes screwed shut as you mentally pray for the thing to not peck at you— you think you’ve started to hold your breath now. 

Through your eyes that peek slightly in fear, you’re able to see Beomgyu reach down at the storage unit beneath the cage and grab something; Toto seems to shift on your shoulder from the sight, and you grow tense as you wonder what the hell the man could be up to— with another call of Toto’s name, the bird finally jumps off your shoulder and over to Beomgyu.

Your body practically slumps in relief. 

Beomgyu is back to holding Toto in his hand; your brows furrow at the sight of it eating something strange, your obvious confusion making Beomgyu smile slightly.

“It’s millet,” he explains, slowly moving to put Toto back in the cage before he places the said millet inside as well; with one last gentle scratch at Toto’s head, Beomgyu closes the cage. “It’s like a treat for him.”

“Whatever,” you say dismissively, glancing at Toto one last time before you shudder and turn away, “I don’t wanna see him again.”

Beomgyu isn’t too offended by your comment; if anything, he smiles in amusement, muttering softly that Toto seems to like you— you make a point to blatantly ignore his comment.

Any confidence Beomgyu had built up from before disappears the moment you finally arrive before the door that leads to the room; he’s found himself nervous once more, shifting the materials in his arms and reach out to open his door cautiously; he hopes you didn’t take notice of the way his hand shook slightly.

His room is no different than the rest of the apartment as you stand in the doorway, curiously surveying it all; your brow raises in amusement as you take in the way his personality is scattered throughout the small room. His bed is neatly made and the sheets are pressed to perfection, and the nightstand contains a stack of books that are both thick and annotated. 

In front of you, you watch Beomgyu awkwardly place the books in his arms down on the bed, pushing up his glasses as you allow your eyes to continue drifting around— they instantly land on the desk setup in the corner of the room, your eyes widening as you’re able to recognize how expensive the setup is; two monitors display a random game you seem to recognize, and you let your curiosity get the best of you as you approach it slowly. 

The keyboard is lighting up before you and a headset is hung on one of the monitors, and you let out a soft tsk as you take in the empty coffee cups beside the mouse, the only messy thing about his whole room; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s spilled the liquid over the setup before. 

What surprised you the most however, are the countless picture frames and cute figurines that are scattered all over the room— a lucky cat is perched right at his windowsill, waving at you repeatedly as you’re unable to hold back your laugh of bewilderment; everything seems to be dusted and well taken care of, you’re surprised Beomgyu can ever find the energy to do such things. 

“You play League of Legends?” Is all you say, turning around as you meet Beomgyu’s flustered face; Beomgyu had been on the verge of melting into a puddle of embarrassment the entire time you looked around his room, unsure of what to say or do the moment you approached his gaming setup. He was sure you’d make fun of him, but instead he’s pleasantly surprised as he silently hopes his face isn’t a raging red at the moment. (It definitely is, but you’re kind enough to give him a break and not tease him about it.)

“Oh— yeah. You play?” It’s oddly adorable to watch the way his eyes light up and his whole body perks up excitedly, but you find it even more adorable to watch the way he deflates as you bark out a laugh of surprise, your whole face lighting up as you cover your mouth in apology, feeling a slight pity for managing to make him look like a kicked puppy again. 

“Fuck no!” You say in amusement, unable to imagine yourself doing such a thing, “Huening used to be obsessed with it though.” 

You roll your eyes at the memory, recalling all the nights back in high school where he’d leave you alone in his bed, staying up late gaming with his friends while you hid in his room during social gatherings— but now he “outgrew that childish game,” according to him. If anything, you think he outgrew gaming all together, especially after you expressed how ridiculous the whole thing seemed to you. 

“Huening, the guy from your apartment?” Beomgyu says meekly, eyes downcast as he flips through his notes mindlessly; you scoff, flopping on the bed next to him as you cross your legs daintily.

“Yeah, the guy from my apartment,” you say, leaning in to try and catch his gaze, “what, you jealous?” 

Your comment is enough to have Beomgyu a sputtering mess; you don’t think he could get any redder than he is now as he shoves his notebook into your lap, clearing his throat weakly as he scoots away from you, leaving an offending amount of space as he squeaks out a defensive no. 

“Wouldn’t blame you if you were,” you tease, staring down at the notes as you try to decipher what the hell it could all mean— it’s embarrassing when you’re left on your own for a good minute, unable to say anything about the material before Beomgyu is finally jumping to your aide and explaining things to you; slowly, you settle down and allow him to begin the session. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’d like to pat yourself on the back for lasting so long. Lasting so long without being difficult, that is, because the hour of peace Beomgyu got was short lived before you became a short-tempered brat before him—the only thing that surprises him at this point is the confidence you get to be like this all the time.

“I seriously don’t get this stuff,” you whine, kicking Beomgyu softly as you hold back a smile— it was clearly done to tease him— laying back on his bed as you cross your arms childishly, “I think I should just change my major.” 

Beomgyu isn’t surprised that you find that so easy to say— for a moment, he dreams of being able to do the same when times get tough, but he was quick to come back to reality as he watched you kick at him petulantly; you managed to lay on his bed and make yourself comfortable, splayed over his pillows as you continued to mess around with him. 

“Can’t we take a break? I’ve been good,” you pout, tapping your fingers on your bicep as you look at him sweetly— Beomgyu has to look away in order to say no, tapping his pencil on his notebook as he quietly prays for you to settle down and focus again. 

“Come on, you’re lucky I showed up in the first place,” Beomgyu’s gaze is glued to his notebook as you roughly sit up, your denim shorts riding up your thighs as you kneel close to him; taking a deep breath to calm himself proves to be a mistake as he gets a good smell of your expensive perfume, biting his lip as he watches you try to get his attention by getting closer to him.

“You only showed up because I did you a favor,” it’s odd that you find the way his voice trembles and his ears turn red adorable, but then again, you’d be a little sad if a man didn’t react that way to you. 

You have him wrapped around your finger— it’s a fact that dawns on you as you watch the way he doesn’t shut you down and forces you to study. Scooting closer to him, you lean down, pressing your cheek against his bicep as you stare down at the countless notes that lay before him. 

“Well, that and because you’re kinda cute,” you admit, holding back a smile at the way he flinches at the sudden contact, “But seriously, I’m so bored.” 

Beomgyu thinks you might have gone insane as he watches the way you take the materials in his lap away from him, setting it to the side before you’re stringing yourself across his lap, stretching cutely as you stare up at him with wide doe eyes— he’s quickly looking back up as he fails to find the strength to push you off. 

“I can’t believe I actually came here this early,” you say, adjusting yourself on his thighs before you’re grabbing his hand, playing with his sleeve coyly as you wonder how far you can take this, “How’d you afford this place all by yourself? It’s in a good area too.” 

“I didn’t,” Beomgyu stutters out, clearing his throat as he pulls his hand away from your grasp shyly, “I have a roommate— Yeonjun.” 

“Choi Yeonjun? Captain of the baseball team?” You say, eyes widening as you watch Beomgyu nod softly; you’re sitting up, ignoring the way Beomgyu visibly relaxes at the action, “Is he here right now?” 

“No, he’s out,” Beomgyu frowns, watching as the gears turn in your head, your pout obvious as you take in his response, “he won’t be home for another three hours.” 

How in the hell did he and Beomgyu become roommates? It’s a question you’re quite literally fighting the urge to ask, but knowing that one of the most attractive guys you’ve had your eye on currently lives in the same house as the man before you makes you want to stick around longer— though you think you might be too obvious about it, judging by the way Beomgyu’s frowning at you. 

“That’s nice,” you hum, feeling a bit bad for the way Beomgyu looks away in defeat, “but that means we’re all alone here?” 

Your question is enough to have Beomgyu sitting up straight— your tone is so dangerous, the way you slowly crawl to him even more so.

He quickly finds himself scooting back, eyes flying around wildly as he almost falls off the bed— you’re quick to catch him, pulling him by the collar of his sweater as his adam’s apple bobs visibly. His long hair falls back and his face is left exposed to you, your body finding comfort on top of his as you straddle his thighs comfortably. His glasses are left on the tip of his nose as his ears quickly turn red, cheeks dusted with the same color as he uselessly props himself up on his elbows; you’re practically nose to nose as you tower over him, your cute blouse hanging and exposing your breasts in a way that has Beomgyu staring straight above your head— in return, the reflection of your sunglasses is all that meets him. 

“Do you ever take a break?” You ask, letting go of his collar before you’re gently smoothing it out; he’s shivering at your touch, eyes fluttering shut nervously as he exhales at the feeling of your warm hand— he knows you can see the way he tenses as you begin to trail your palm down his chest, pressing teasingly where his heart resides as you tilt your head cutely.

“Ever stop studying and just…. Take care of yourself?” The implications of your words couldn’t be more obvious with the way your voice drops, your thighs clenching around his body as you watch his breath hitch at the action; your fingers delicately drum against his chest as you wait for him to say something, to push you off and tell you to never speak to him again— instead, he shakes his head, his shyness intensifying as his eyes remain shut. 

“Will you let me take care of you?” You breathe out, entranced with the way his eyes finally open to meet yours— within them, he sees no malice or mockery, just an intense fire and need that has his stomach twisting and his hands grabbing at his neatly pressed sheets in anticipation.

Softly, he nods. 

You’ve never experienced this before; you’ve never had a man pliant and weak under you, ready to take whatever you give him with adoring eyes that sparkle under the lights. You’re so used to being the one in that position, of allowing yourself to be used and molded how they’d like— so to say you’re quite surprised at the thrill you feel is an understatement. 

“You’re like a little puppy,” you mumble sweetly, reaching up to caress his heated cheeks— the whine that escapes him is involuntary, your eyes clouding with lust as you take in the way he reacts to your nickname; leaning up, you grab the collar of his sweater as you guide him to sit up with you— you’re in awe of how obedient he is as he follows your command, hands hovering politely as he waits for your next move. 

“Do you like it when I call you that?” You tilt your head, laying your hands by Beomgyu’s collar bones before they’re sliding up, intertwining lazily behind his nape as you’re leaning in teasingly; you’re so close to him, you can feel his breath fan on your face as you tease the corner of his lips with your own— you’re pulling away the moment he tries to chase you, giving him an expectant look as you wait for him to answer your question. “Puppy?” 

“Y—yes, I…” he’s unable to finish his sentence the moment he feels your chest press against his, soft breasts teasing him as he squeezes his eyes shut; you’re everywhere, your lips planting feather-like kisses on his cheeks as you begin to overwhelm his senses. Your warm thighs that encase him, your hands that play with the nape of his hair, your perfume that he gets to inhale as you tilt your neck closer to him— hell, as you reach his jaw, he’s able to smell your shampoo, the scent addicting and no doubt expensive as you press yourself firmly against him.

This is insane. There should be no universe where Beomgyu should have one of the richest girls in his university pressed against him and on his lap, and there’s no way he’s the one submitting himself so pathetically in it. Yet here he is, practically leaning into your touch and chasing after you the moment you pull away, feeling a whine escape from his throat as he finally finds the courage to place a hand on your hip; keeping you in place, fingertips splayed over the swell of your ass as you try and fail to hide the smile that breaks out on your face. 

“Stupid puppy wants me to kiss him?” You pout mockingly, and instead of feeling the usual shame bubbling within him from your condescending tone, Beomgyu can only feel himself melt pathetically, pouty face and shining doe eyes begging you to give in as you brush away a strand of hair that fell in his eye; Beomgyu’s eyes flutter shut at the gentle touch, lips parting before he finally feels you swoop in and take him by surprise. 

Your lip gloss is sweet and sticky as you ravish the boy below you, able to feel his inexperience and eagerness with the way he’s practically ready to push you back into the mattress— but he holds himself back, allowing you to swipe your tongue along his lip and tease him before you’re venturing further. 

It’s all so lewd and desperate, and Beomgyu feels dazed by the time you’re finally pulling away, a Cheshire grin on your face as you swipe his bottom lip that’s shining with lip gloss and saliva; like instinct, his lips part and close around your thumb, eyes never straying from yours as you feel his tongue swipe over the finger teasingly— your gaze darkens at the sight, mind racing with all the things you could do to him as you watch the way his plush lips circle around the digit. 

The pop that sounds throughout the room when you pull away is enough to make you let out a soft groan, your eyes tracing along his body until you finally find the very thing you’re curious about— smiling, you’re not as surprised to find his dick straining against the neat fabric of his trousers.

“Can I touch you, pup?” You ask, your voice breathy and deep as you wait patiently for his answer; once again, he gulps, shining eyes just as dazed as you are before he finally lets out a soft yes; slowly, your perfectly manicured hand makes its way down to his khaki trousers, playing with the button before you’re finally undoing it— the sigh that Beomgyu lets out once you undo his zipper is practically lethal, your lips twitching in delight at the sound.

It’s cute to see the way his hips buck up into the air as you reveal his boxers, helping you pull down his pants until you’re face to face with the very thing you’ve been wanting the most. It’s odd, but it seems as though Beomgyu brings out a side you didn’t think existed, a teasing smile creeping its way onto your face as you plant your core firmly on him; he’s letting out a strangled gasp at the sudden pressure and warmth, his eyes screwing shut as his lips are falling open, the sight tempting as you resist the urge to kiss him again. 

Beomgyu is like an instrument under your touch, and you’re eager to learn how to play as you slowly begin to rock your hips back and forth; the reaction is instant for him as he bucks up into you, whimpering cutely as his eyes remain shut the whole time. Your thighs feel so soft against his own, and he’s sure he won’t last long if he’s forced to inhale your intoxicating scent the whole way through. 

It isn’t until you’re climbing off his lap that Beomgyu’s eyes are finally flying open, meeting yours in a confused haze as he allows you to push him back and tower over him as he lays; he looks so enticing and pretty with his hair splayed out around the sheets, lidded eyes and fucked out expression oddly addicting to you as you go to straddle one of his thighs. 

“You’re so cute,” you coo, pushing his sweater up as you run your nails teasingly over his stomach— you laugh softly as he flinches at the feeling. Slowly, you’re pulling the waistband of his boxers down until his cock is finally springing out and smacking against his stomach; his tip is red and sticky as a line of precum is left connected to his stomach, his eyes shutting in embarrassment once more as he turns his head to the side in an effort to turn away. He’s so long as you take him in, appreciating the vein that runs along the curve of his shaft with a soft hum.

“Please,” he whines, covering his face with his hands as his body grows hotter the longer you stare at him; you can only laugh fondly at the sight, watching the way his hips buck up uselessly at the sound. 

“My puppy, you’re so pretty,” you sigh, spitting in your hand before you’re finally reaching down to grab ahold of him; the feeling is unexpected as Beomgyu lets out a soft yelp under you, his cries dying out the moment you’re beginning to stroke him teasingly. 

“How long has it been since you let out some steam?” You tease, running your thumb across his tip and spreading the precum along as he simply moans in response; he’s so whiny and breathy as none of your words seem to register in his head, enamored by the pretty girl that’s sitting on his thigh and stroking his cock so well. 

You can’t help yourself when you readjust to kneel between his legs, his face still covered by his hands as he doesn’t anticipate your next move— Beomgyu swears he almost came the moment he felt your mouth wrap around his tip. Your mouth is practically watering around Beomgyu’s cock as you slowly take him in, surprised by his length yet determined to hear more of his pathetic gasps and whines as you slowly take him in. 

“Oh god, oh god, you’re so— y-you’re so warm, oh,” Beomgyu is a babbling mess as his hands land helplessly on your head, unsure of what to do with them as he feels the tip of your nose press against his navel; his eyes are practically rolling back as he feels the mess you’re making on his cock, your mouth so hot and wet he can’t help the way he subtly thrusts into it.

“I’m sorry, I— I didn’t mean to…” his words are dying on his tongue the moment he feels you reach for his hand and pull back, guiding him to set the pace as you run your tongue over his tip— that’s enough to have Beomgyu whining and out of breath, but he’s able to pull himself together as he slowly begins to fuck your mouth. 

“Shit, you’re so pretty, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Beomgyu breathes out, fascinated with the way you remain completely cool even as he begins thrusting his cock into your throat, “so good.”

The sudden confession doesn’t process in Beomgyu’s mind, but it has your mind reeling as you close your eyes, determined to make this man fall apart under you as you ignore the flutter of butterflies in your stomach. 

It takes Beomgyu a second to find his pace as he’s gently stroking your hair, face warm and shining with embarrassment as he tries to ignore how inexperienced he may seem— contrary to what he might think, you don’t really care; the only thing you care for is how melodic he sounds as his hips begin stuttering into your mouth, the feeling of your tongue running along his shaft too much for him as his breath hitches pathetically. 

“Wait wait wait— oh my god, I’m so— Ah, please don’t stop,” he’s whimpering and babbling at your touch, his hand attempting to pull you off as he nears his release; you only sink further in retaliation, the loud moan that Beomgyu lets out giving you satisfaction as you feel his cum spurting against the back of your throat— your eyes are barely able to catch his expression as he throws his head back, hips stilling entirely as he rides out his orgasm. 

Beomgyu is still trying to catch his breath when he feels his hips bucking subconsciously, the feeling of you pulling away making him whine softly from the sensitivity. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, his glasses skewed and his vision a haze as his gaze meets yours— he’s able to catch the way you swallow, your mouth empty as a teasing grin sneaks onto your face.

His stomach flips at the sight. 

He’s unsure of what to do as you sit up, your hair mused and your clothes in disarray as you take him in with an intense stare— he feels oddly shy as he tugs down his sweater to cover himself, gulping nervously as he begins to wonder if this was all a twisted joke— some sort of childish dare, anything that was meant to humiliate him. 

Instead, he feels you reach forward to fix his glasses, brushing away the hair that was stuck to his forehead as you smiled sweetly; Beomgyu thinks he forgot how to breathe as he takes in your proximity, left frozen as you leave a slow, chaste kiss on his lips. 

“I should go— you have work, right?” The question is enough to snap Beomgyu back to reality, nodding softly as you finally get up from his bed; turning to his mirror, you fix your appearance, brows raising in curiosity as you notice the guitar that’s propped up beside it— you briefly wonder if he’s good at playing it, and find yourself wanting to ask if he can sing; you refrain. “I’ll let you get ready then.”

There’s not much Beomgyu can say as he watches you go to his door like nothing happened; he flinches in surprise as you turn back to him one last time, a grin on your face as you send him one final goodbye. 

“This was fun.” 

Beomgyu is left to decipher your words and intentions as you walk away. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Why did you do that. 

“Oh god, why did I do that?” 

You’re a puddle of embarrassment as you roll around in the back of your driver’s car, your hands plastered on your face as you try to melt away from this reality— instead, the memory of Beomgyu’s flustered and fucked out face is the only thing that meets your eyelids. 

You’re not sure what took over you— what in the world possessed you to fuck your tutor? You knew that if you told your friends you’d never hear the end of it, but you think you might be at risk of losing the only thing that was helping you get your grades up after this. 

It was already difficult to get Beomgyu to agree to be in a room alone with you— and now you had to absolutely fuck up and push the boundaries to a place where you’d never return. 

Out of all the men, it just had to be Choi Beomgyu. It’s a fact that makes your face heat up and your head hit the back of the car seat in defeat as you stare out the window in dismay; instead of going for someone who was in your league, you chose to go after a nobody. 

You didn’t even get anything out of it! The thought is humiliating as you shut your eyes and groan, ignoring the way your driver glances back at you in concern; you sucked his dick and dipped— that is so unlike you. 

Everything about the situation is unlike you— you would never go after someone like Beomgyu, he didn’t align with your type at all! The feeling of dread in your stomach is only worsened as you mentally go through the people you’ve been with in the past, cringing the more you realize how much of an outlier Beomgyu is. 

“Mr. Kim,” you call out, pulling down your shades as you avoid the rays of sunlight that are hitting your face. He’s perking up in response immediately, glancing at you through his mirror before he nods his head to indicate he’s listening. 

“Take me to Hueningkai’s house please,” you say, taking your phone out of your purse as you absentmindedly text Huening that you’re on your way— Mr. Kim’s yes ma’am is left unanswered as you watch Hueningkai respond within seconds— all you can do is sink further in your seat at his eagerness to see you, the implications of his message more than clear to you.

The drive to his home is long and silent, and you’re forced to reflect on yourself the whole way through— the more you do, the more flustered and confused you feel, forcing yourself to set those thoughts to the side as Mr. Kim pulls up to Huening’s driveway.

Yet even as you’re walking to his doorstep, an eager smile forced on your face as you wait for Huening to answer, you can’t help the way your thoughts stray. It all seems to linger on the same subject, gulping nervously at the way Beomgyu’s small whines still ring out in your head. 

“Hey,” Hueningkai smiles, leaning against the doorway as he takes you in; you try to ignore the way his hungry eyes take you in, greeting him softly before you’re pushing past him and going inside, kicking your shoes off at the doorway. 

“What’s up?” Hueningkai immediately asks, noticing the way you don’t indulge in any of his games or teasing, your face blank as you plop down on the couch. “You need something?” 

“No,” you say, oddly defensive as you lay along his couch, crossing your legs as you proceed to do the same with your arms, “Can’t I just chill at your place without needing anything?” 

Hueningkai raises a brow at your huffy comment. Tilting his head, he smiles, a gesture sly and teasing as he watches the way you stand your ground. 

“Well, whenever you come over it’s usually not to just chill,” he says, repeating your words with clear amusement, “so forgive me for thinking something was off.” 

You’re in a bad mood today; Hueningkai is quick to pick up on it as you scoff at his words, looking away from him and pouting as you remain silent. Slowly, he makes his way to you, testing out the waters before he’s sitting down at your feet. 

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks, slowly beginning to hover over you until you can’t help but look at him; he’s everywhere, a holding himself up with a hand by your head while the other finds its way to your hip— playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly teasing you until he’s pushing past and caressing your skin— you flinch at the feeling of his cold hand. 

“Come on, we can talk,” he says, but you know he doesn’t really mean it with the way his leg is trying to pry your thighs open, pressing up against your core as he feels something unexpected— his eyes are lighting up as he smiles down at you, raising a brow as he takes in the small change of your expression. 

“Or maybe you don’t wanna talk?” He says, the surprising heat that meets his thigh is more than welcome as he watches you become flustered under him. 

“Fuck off Huening,” you groan, pressing a hand against his chest as you turn away from him— all you get in return is a dark laugh, his lips ghosting along your jawline as he presses a firm kiss under your ear, his hand pushing your shirt up as it wanders towards your breasts. 

“Hmm, are you sure?” He huffs, adjusting his position so that he’s able to place a hand on your hip, grinding your hips against his thighs as he bites his lip at the sight, “won’t you put those pretty lips to use at least?” 

The irritation that had been brewing inside you is far too much to handle as you scoff at his words, your head snapping back to glare at him as you push against his chest firmly, catching him off guard as you knock him off his balance entirely; he’s knocked out of his lusty reverie as he stares at you with wide eyes from the other end of the couch, lips parting as he attempts to say something, only to be cut off by you. 

“Seriously Huening, I’m not in the fucking mood!” You snap, pulling your top back down harshly before you’re standing up— he’s left to watch in confusion as you readjust yourself, your brows furrowed in a mean frown as you glare at him once more— and to think you thought you’d be able to spend more than five minutes with Hueningkai without him wanting to fuck you. 

“Come on baby, you know I didn’t mean it like that—“ 

“Do you ever think without your dick when you’re around me?” It’s annoying to see how nonchalant Hueningkai is as he laughs off your words, crossing his arms defensively as he tries to play off what just happened. 

“You didn’t even think to check up on me when I was sick!” You thought you were over the bitter moment, but the memory still seems to sting as you remind him of a time where you needed him the most, “ever since we started this whole… stupid friends with benefits thing, you’ve been acting like such a prick!” 

“Don’t be like this,” Hueningkai groans, throwing his head back as he runs a hand through his hair, “you’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh my god!” You bark, left in disbelief as you pace around his apartment, “like seriously, are you listening to yourself right now?!”

You’re more than fed up as you make your way back to the entrance, gathering your things and slipping on your shoes as you hear Hueningkai following close behind, spouting excuses and other nonsense to try and make you stay. 

You’ve opened the door when Hueningkai grabs onto you desperately, tugging you back into his chest and asking you to listen to him as he sets firm hands on your hips; you’re looking at everything but him as you remain silent, your hands pressed defensively against his chest as you give him on last chance to redeem himself. 

“Come on baby, you know I don’t wanna lose you,” he says, his voice soft and vulnerable as he leans in, watching as you tilt your head away from him and continue to refuse to meet his eyes. Feeling him press you harder against him, your jaw clenches as he places a sweet kiss on your cheek. 

“Lemme make it up to you. Please?” 

You know perfectly well what his words entail as you push him away from you once more, swinging your purse and smacking him harshly as you let your anger out on him. He has the audacity to laugh and cower away from you as he apologizes, telling you that it was just a joke as you continue to hit him relentlessly. 

“Fuck you!” You say, out of energy and left a huffing mess as you swing the door open behind you, “asshole!” 

You don’t stay around to see his reaction as you slam the door shut, storming away and walking along the sidewalk as you pull your phone out. 

Pick me up please. 

Huening’s being an asshole, I’m waiting outside. 

It’s moments like these where you regret being irresponsible with your car, left with nothing but your driver as you still wait for your precious baby to come out of the repair shop; to this day your parents still scold you for an accident that happened over a month ago, the words “bad driver” tacked on along with the rest that curate your reputation.  

In a perfect world, Hueningkai would’ve come out by now; he would’ve gone after you, apologizing and hanging his head in shame in regards to his behavior— in a perfect world, he wouldn’t have turned into the person he is now, forgoing your friendship entirely to satiate his needs— you hadn’t given much thought to what the consequences to this “friends with benefits” thing would be, but if you could go back in time to the moment where he drunkenly proposed it to you, you would’ve been quick to shut him down with an incredulous laugh. 

It was your fault for having a soft spot for him. Your fault for wondering what his lips would feel like one too many times, for being caught staring at him back when you were just kids and you were forced to attend dinner parties together, trying and failing to conceal the way he could fluster you with just a single smile. 

Now that his desires have been satiated, you doubt he has any use for you now— which is why you find yourself waiting pathetically outside his apartment, not used to this feeling that festers in your stomach as you wait patiently— whether it’s simply for your driver or for the glimmering hope that Hueningkai will own up to his actions and take you back, you’re not sure.

But what you do know is that you’ve never felt so small. 

Moments later, your driver arrives; you swear you try to hold back, but you can’t help yourself from turning around and taking one last peek at Huening’s quiet, dull apartment— gritting your teeth, you flop inside, groaning obnoxiously as you rub your temples in annoyance; your driver is unfazed by your behavior— meeting his eyes, you sigh. 

“I need to go shopping.”

Wordlessly, he nods— you don’t bother to stare out the window once you finally feel the car moving, in fear that your mind may begin to imagine scenarios that simply won’t happen. 

The car ride is silent, and you realize with a frown that you may have left with a mood worse than before.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

This department store is useless.

Geez, did you piss off some god above or something? Because as you stand in your tenth store in the past hour, nose scrunched and brows furrowed unpleasantly, you feel as though you may be getting karma for something— though what it may be exactly, you’re unsure. 

Everything around you is either already in your closet or simply outdated. Your fingertips tap rhythmically against your crossed arms, eyes narrowed as you take slow strides around the aisles of the stores— a part-time employee follows closely behind you, hands folded neatly and a pleasant smile glued to face as she comments on every item your eyes fall on, even if it’s just for a second; your jaw ticks at her cheap tactics to sell to you. 

There’s only one thing that would make your mood at this time— a limited edition purse you have had your eyes on, trying your best to catch your usual stores at the right times in hopes of getting your hands on it. Yet, with every failed attempt, your frustrations and efforts only grow, and you’ve found yourself visiting these stores more often than you’d like, always leaving with an item or two despite telling yourself not to do so. 

“Excuse me,” you say sternly, your steps coming to a halt as you slowly turn to the employee. She’s meek and her voice is airy as she speaks to you, eyebrows raised as though she seems genuinely interested in what you might say next— her act only displeases you more. 

“I’m trying to shop in peace, please leave me alone.” you say, watching as the woman simply flinches at your comment, smile stiffening on her lips before she’s swiftly apologizing seconds after— if you weren’t careful, you could’ve missed the way her lips turned up with irritation as she turned, muttering quietly to herself as though you weren’t two steps away to hear it.

Rich snob, you pick up, blinking in surprise as you watch her steps becoming hasty with her retreat. You don’t allow yourself to be fazed by it, a smile tugging at your lips from amusement before you turn back around; scanning the store, you glance at the mannequins on display, taking in the outfits briefly before you catch onto something else— and before you can control yourself, you’re walking again. 

Don’t be stupid, your brain tells you, yelling at you as you exit the store with haste, pushing past the people standing around as you make your way to the store across, Don’t do this, this is a bad idea, don’t—

Do it, your heart tells you, pounding against your chest as you adjust the purse strap on your shoulder, gulping slightly as you swing open the door, you’re not here for him, you’re here for the very thing you’ve worked so hard for. 

And if it so happens to be in his hands right now, then is it really your fault that you find yourself standing before the very man that hurt you mere moments ago?

“Cute purse,” you breathe out, eyes glued to the way it shines beautifully under the lights of the store, “Though I don’t really think it’s your style.”

Hueningkai doesn’t bother looking up. He’s too busy handling the limited edition purse that you’ve so desperately been searching for, nimble fingers running over the details as though he were actually taking his time to inspect it; instead, he hums softly at your words, pretending to ponder for a second before he’s frowning. 

“You really think so?” he asks, tsking softly to himself before he’s shaking his head, straightening up before he runs a hand against the surface; you watch the way his fingers slide across the material, teeth tugging at your lip as you fight the twitch of your brows, wanting nothing more than to take the item from his hands and walk away. 

You stand there in silence, for a moment; you wonder slightly if Hueningkai is simply ignoring you, and the idea is enough to have you bristling with anger, your jaw clenching as you decide that it’s better to leave now than to look helpless before him— but he’s looking up at you, lidded eyes catching you in a daze as he tilts his head, sending you his signature charming smile. 

“It wasn’t for me,” he says, looking down at the purse in his hands and holding it close to him, as though gauging its weight, “It was going to be a gift.”

“A gift? Quite the gesture on your part,” you scoff, looking at the display area in exasperation— fuck, the only purse in this awful store is in his hands, you realize— leaving you with no other choice but to hope that he’ll stop playing games and leave the purse he clearly never had any intentions of buying, “But I don’t think those other girls you talk to would be very interested in such a specific item like this— I’d suggest appealing to their own interests a bit more.”

With gritted teeth, you reach out to take the bag; an impulsive move on your part, not exactly surprised with the way Hueningkai immediately backs up and holds the bag close to him. You can practically feel your blood boil from the sheer anger that’s taking over from his antics, unamused entirely at the way he merely sends you an innocent smile. 

“Don’t be rude,” he smiles, taking yet another step back, making more distance between you two, “Who are you to say what they would or wouldn’t like? Plus, I saw this first, and I had full intentions of buying it.”

You remain silent— whether you’re too baffled to speak or are simply trying to not explode and yell at him in the middle of the store, you’re not entirely sure— but, as you watch him raise a brow challengingly, you can only find yourself thinking one thing. 

Fuck this. You’ll just order it online. 

The idea takes away the very joy of being able to find it by chance, but you’d rather die right now than grovel to Hueningkai— like he very clearly wants— in hopes that he’ll take pity on you and give you the purse; spinning on your heels, you make your way out with brisk steps.

You don’t get very far before you hear him calling out your name— but you ignore it, a baffled scoff escaping you in response to his sheer audacity to act so shameless after belittling you a few hours prior; you’re a few steps away from the exit when you feel a tug on your wrist, jolting you back and preventing you from leaving.

“What, Hueningkai?” you say, huffing exasperatedly as you shake off his grip on you, “Can’t you just leave me alone for once? I’m not in the mood to play your stupid games.”

“Well then why don’t you talk to me instead of running away childishly?” he says sharply, and you have to bite your tongue in order to not point out his hilariously hypocritical statement, “you’re acting so weird, what the hell happened?”

You think you might just do something that’ll get you banned from the store— but something catches your eye before you can act out on your impulses, and you’re ripping your wrist from Hueningkai’s hold with one last harsh tug. Your gaze is no longer on him; he tries to follow your line of sight, but fails to catch onto what you’re looking at. 

“Get out or leave me alone,” you say, giving him one last cold look before you’re brushing past him, “I’m not interested in talking to you.”

You’re weaving through the displays and getting out of his sight quickly— and Hueningkai is left with a purse he had no interest in buying, looking down at the item before he scoffs; he throws it off at a random shelf and exits promptly after. 

Your footsteps are haste and your heels click rhythmically on the tiled floor; you’re making your way to the cash register, watching his meek stance and the way he flinches under your gaze, a flush running up the back of his neck and coloring his ears red— but you don’t dare to look away from him, placing a rough hand on the counter and leaning close as you inspect him.

“You didn’t tell me you worked here.”

Beomgyu is attempting to stutter out a weak response; his cheeks are colored and his hair is tied back neatly, and you can see the way his hands twitch, undoubtedly resisting the urge to run a hand through the neat style. 

“Why— why would I tell you? It’s not something you’d need to know. Or– is it…?”

You’ve confused him, that much you’re sure of. His brows have knitted together and he remains flustered beyond belief— you’re sure you can guess what’s running through his mind right now, and you fight the twitch of your lips at the mere thought.

“I thought you worked as a server.”

“I– I do?” he’s tilting his head in confusion, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly, “I have two jobs.”

“Three,” you quip, drumming your nails against the counter rhythmically, “you tutor.”

“I… guess…?” Beomgyu says, fighting back the urge to correct you that he really doesn’t— you’re the only one he’s ever tutored before.

“Why would you need to work three jobs? How do you get the time for this?” you don’t really know why you’re pestering Beomgyu about this so much— but you’re also fascinated by it, now beginning to understand where Beomgyu’s lack of social life stems from. 

He’s unsure of how to answer your question again; you don’t seem to be particularly patient today, (but then again, when are you?) so you’re waving him off with a dismissive swat of your hand, shaking your head and clicking your tongue before you’re changing the subject; Beomgyu is left to watch as you pull your phone out, scrolling on it for a bit before you’re placing it on the counter and spinning it around for him to see— his eyes are narrowing in concentration as he takes in the picture.

“This purse,” you say slowly, tapping your nail on your phone screen, as though Beomgyu wasn’t currently looking at it, “do you have it in stock? This guy already got one, but I need to know if you have others— I’ve got to have it.” 

The urgency in your voice is a bit surprising to Beomgyu— he takes in your expression, solemn and a bit scary, and gulps— then he watches the way you melt in relief the moment he nods hesitantly. 

“I’m sure we just got a shipment in today— we, haven’t really, uhm, stocked up properly yet,” he stutters, wincing slightly at the sound while you remain unfazed; your brows lift expectantly, and he’s snapping out his daze and sending you a shaky smile, “I’ll go check.” 

He scurries out of your sight and into the employee door quicker than you can process— and when he turns around to take a peek at the small window, he finds you leaning on the counter and on your phone— probably texting, judging by the way your thumbs fly by on the screen— and he feels another heat of shame wash over him, his head spinning and his legs turning into jello. 

How can you act so casually? He wonders, glasses slipping down just a bit farther down his nose, nimble fingers pushing it back up with ease, like you weren’t just in his bedroom a few hours prior… like he wasn’t under you… 

Beomgyu practically jumps the moment your eyes flicker up and meet his; you simply smile, glossed lips stretching slowly before you give him a wink. 

In response, he spins around and begins to actually look— his heart hammers in his chest.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

So pretty. 

So perfect and smooth to the touch, cool under your fingertips— you take your time to feel, to trace over every detail, intricate and crafted by the gods as you let out a shaky sigh— your eyes meet Beomgyu’s, and you have half the mind to feel a bit sheepish, retracting your hand quickly and returning to a socially acceptable state of mind. 

“Sorry,” you say, beaming at him before you’re reaching into your current bag and handing him your card; his eyes widen comically at the smooth black plastic you place in his hold carelessly, “It’s just… all I could ever ask for. I can’t believe I finally have my hands on this…” 

Meanwhile, Beomgyu rings up your inexplicably expensive item, swiping your card and watching the way you don’t even flinch at the sum that shows up; he feels a bit jealous at your nonchalance. 

You’re carrying the purse like it were a baby; it isn’t until Beomgyu offers to bag it for you that you finally let it go, placing it gently on the counter and smiling fondly as you watch Beomgyu place it carefully in the equally luxurious gift bag, placing filler paper on top and handing it back to you, his movement practiced and calculated as he says his usual lines— his mind is running on autopilot once more, but you’re particularly eager to break him out of it as you reach out to take the bag from him, warm hand wrapping around his and tugging him slightly towards you. 

“Thank you for all your help today,” you purr, shining lips stretching into a coy smile, leaning against the counter and watching as he gulps, adam's apple bobbing, “I think I’ll do well on our upcoming quiz— you’re such a good tutor.”

You don’t bother to stick around after that; your steps are brisk and you’re hugging the purchase close to your body, as though someone were after it and ready to take it, confidence in your step as you exit the store— Beomgyu, on the other hand, practically crumbles the moment you’re out of sight, fingers turning white from how hard he grips onto the edge of the counter; his heart pounds and the sound of blood rushing fills his ears, mind inevitably going back to your teasing action before he’s flustering again. 

You’re laughing to yourself the whole ride home— his reaction plays on your mind like a loop, beyond amused by the sight as you pat yourself on the back for being able to come up with something so clever on the spot. 

What you don’t realize, however, is that there are consequences to your actions— consequences that are far beyond your control.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

“Are you for real?”

“Uh-huh,” you grin, placing a fond hand on your cheek and batting your eyes at Yunjin, “totally aced it.” 

“That’s something I never thought I’d hear from you,” your friend says, poking her fork at her salad before taking a bite; she furrows her brows as she takes in your expression, mouth agape and eyes wide, as though you were offended. “What? It’s true.”

“Okay, first off— I’m not stupid, just lazy,” you clarify, pointing an accusing finger at your friend as you pout, “and second of all, you should really believe in your friend a little more.”

“I mean, it was a little hard to when all you would do was skip classes and go shopping instead,” Yunjin says, raising a challenging brow when you open your mouth to refute her claims— then proceed to promptly close it again, finding that you really can’t deny that— and a small smile tugs at her lips, the kind that lets you know that she’s about to say something really annoying, “but I guess your study sessions with your little boy toy really did work.” 

“Boy—?!” you’re in the middle of taking a sip from your iced coffee when she says that, the straw slipping from your mouth and a bit of the liquid escaping from the sheer surprise of her comment— you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling a slight heat rush to your face as you stare at her incredulously, “boy toy?” 

“I mean, am I wrong?” Yunjin challenges, tilting her head in curiosity while you simply try to deny her claims, “you were literally just telling me about the way you had him wrapped around your finger a while ago—”

“Not like that though!” you huff, feeling worked up from the mere idea of Yunjin finding out the complete and utterly stupid slip up you had a while ago, “god, he’s literally such a fucking loser, don’t try to pair me up with him— other people might get the wrong idea. It’s already bad enough that I had to get a tutor, because it’s not like I was doing bad in my classes until recently. I mean, it’s still my fault and I did let myself go, but I didn’t think I’d have to stoop so low! And now I have to take so much time out of my day to spend my time studying with him and even worse, you’re trying to insinuate something that definitely isn’t true—!”

“Yes! Okay! Enough of that please!” Yunjin says exasperatedly, glancing over your shoulder briefly before she’s taking another bite of her salad, muttering something about you having a motor mouth, “god, it’s just that… people have seen you two together a lot, you know? And with the way he’s looking over at you right now, anyone would think that he’s like… in love with you, or something.” 

You’re sitting up straight and whirling around at that; following Yunjin’s previous line of sight, you’re able to pinpoint the said boy immediately— sitting a few tables away, catching him staring at you over his laptop, clearly distracted from his work— the moment your eyes meet, he flinches, hunching down so the screen hides him; it doesn’t work very well, and you’re able to see his downcast eyes and reddening face with ease. 

Oh my god, you think with horror, a cold wave washing over you as you stare at him longer— and after a few seconds, he’s peeking back up from his screen, meeting your eyes once more and scrambling to hide unsuccessfully yet again. You decide to turn back around before anyone else around you catches on to this interaction. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, meeting Yunjin’s gaze as she simply nods at you, her face screaming I told you so, “how long has he been there?” 

“Like… basically this whole time,” Yunjin says casually, not fazed in the slightest by your horrified expression, “been staring at you for a while too.”

“Ugh, gross,” you groan, throwing your head back in defeat and staring up at the ceiling with a frown, “I think I might’ve gotten his hopes up too much.”

“C’mon, go easy on him,” Yunjin teases— your head is straightening up to look at her again, but a single glance is enough to tell you she merely finds this situation amusing, “it’s probably his first time properly interacting with a woman.”

“That’s even worse,” you mourn, slumping down and placing your head in your hands; a sudden reminder of your schedule is popping back into your head, and your peeking through your fingers in dismay as you relay the information to your friend, “and I have a study session with him today too.” 

“Aww!” she coos, clearly having a blast as she grins, glancing behind you and undoubtedly at Beomgyu once more, “I’m sure he just can’t wait to see you again.”

“God, please shut up,” you whine petulantly, but your friend brushes off your pleas with a mischievous smile, “you’re making me wanna throw up.”

“What, you gonna cancel then?” 

Silence. Any other day, you would’ve immediately jumped to say yes, pulling out your phone to text him and bailing like it was nothing. But today, you find yourself oddly reluctant to say this three letter word, unsure of why the answer is difficult to voice before you finally give in to the truth— your head slumps with defeat and you’re too ashamed to look Yunjin in the eyes.

“No.”

“Oh wow,” you hear her say, still blatantly teasing you as she laughs giddily— you don’t bother to react at this point, choosing to ignore the unspoken question of why you’re not ditching him this time.

“Hope you have fun,” she muses, taking one last glance behind you before she’s giggling to herself, “try to go easy on him, m’kay?”

Fuck, this was so embarrassing. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Today, you’ve changed up your meeting spot quite a bit; Beomgyu was thoroughly surprised when you asked him to study later on in the day, in a more secluded area on the upper levels of the library, telling him to pick a table and wait for you to get there after— usually, you tried to make your meetups as convenient for you as possible, choosing places that you could easily flee from. 

When you finally come into his line of sight, Beomgyu frowns. You carry your bag with you, along with a troubled expression and tense posture, glancing around you continuously even if there was no one around, even if the table was hidden behind bookshelves— as though you were afraid of getting caught for something. 

You’re dumping your things onto the table unceremoniously— and instead of taking your spot across from Beomgyu like always, you’re sitting next to him, catching him off guard and missing the way he tenses at the action— you’re scooting your chair closer to him and filling his senses with your scent, making him gulp thickly as he tries to not let his mind wander off; he realizes with dread that it’s really not working. 

Beomgyu is a stuttering mess today; you pick up on it with ease, frowning at the way he continues to blunder through his explanations and having to repeat things to you multiple times, hands shakier than usual as he points out certain things in the text before he’s relating it back to the assignment. 

“That— that’s one of the things the… the uhm, the professor said would be important to remember,” Beomgyu stutters, feeling his body heat up at the way you raise your brows at the sound of his cracking and meek voice. With one glimpse at your (clearly) judgemental and demeaning expression that you didn’t even bother to hide, Beomgyu is scrambling to get his act together. 

It works, for a while; the two of you are left in silence as you work on the homework your professor assigned to you, and you remain unfazed at the feeling of Beomgyu catching glimpses at you from time to time; whether that be to look at what you had written down or simply to look at you, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. 

You’re snapped out of zone of concentration at the sound of rustling; a peek from your peripheral vision allows you to watch as Beomgyu has now begun to dig through his bag, wondering what he could be up to; with a roll of your eyes, you’re focusing back to the question you were working on, not bothering to glance back again even once the rustling has ceased. 

Without warning, something is placed gingerly on the open surface of your textbook; you’re blinking in surprise before you’re registering what it is that has been put before you, brows knitting together as you wonder how you should react.

It’s a… mini paper flower bouquet. 

You’re staring at the item for a solid few seconds before you slowly turn to look at the culprit. Beomgyu meets your intense gaze the best he can, putting up a confident front and fighting back the heat that threatens to engulf his face. 

“Y–You— I heard you did well on your test.” He says, glasses slipping down his nose and bangs falling into his eyes, gaze flickering away for a split second before he wills himself to look at you again. Your stare is dead and unreadable.

“I never told you that.” 

Beomgyu is losing this battle, his confidence visibly wilting away as his cheeks begin to get dusted with pink. His eyes are wide like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to respond as you give him a look that is expecting an explanation— his cheeks are now a bright red. 

Even without his explanation, you both know how he got a hold of this news— and you’re thinking back to Yunjin’s teasing, the fear of being seen with him during today’s study session, and the flustered boy in front of you— and your mouth is running faster than you can stop it.

“Choi Beomgyu, do you like me?” 

If the floor around you was already quiet before, it’s dead silent now; you’re even able to pick up on the stuttered breath Beomgyu lets out, his eyes growing comically wide as he simply stares at you; almost as though he couldn’t believe what you just asked of him. 

“Actually, don’t even answer that,” you wave him off, choosing to ignore the way this seems to spring him into action, stuttering and failing to put together a proper sentence to tell you that no, he definitely doesn’t— you just caught him off guard! 

But it’s not like you would believe him anyway, with the way he remains flustered long after you asked the question, unable to even look your way for the rest of the session, staring straight at the textbook and nowhere else whenever you would ask him a question— after a while, you begin to tire of his behavior. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” you call out again, soft and dangerous as you turn to face him— he was attempting to explain a question to you, words dying on his tongue as he took in your sudden proximity— leaning in toward him, you tilt your head as you observe his reaction, watching the way his lips press together and his adam's apple bobs as he gulps softly; his puppy-like eyes shine as he waits for you to say something.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, your voice beginning to dip into that coy lilt that you’ve used on him only one other time— and that’s enough to have Beomgyu’s mind spinning, the poor boy thinking thoughts that he’s tried to suppress this whole time— your affect on him is beginning to show once more. 

“You look a little…” your eyes flicker down beneath the table, a smile tugging at your lips before you’re looking back into the boy's eyes; catching where you were looking, Beomgyu can’t help but tug his sweater over his lap in embarrassment. 

You’re leaning even closer now— your breath is fanning against the shell of his ear, the boy’s face practically on fire as his hands remain clenched and tense on his lap— he’s practically a statue due to your proximity. 

“Distracted.” 

Your hands are mischievous; curious, setting your pencil down carefully before they begin to wander, sliding across the table before it falls off the edge, nails scratching at the wool material of Beomgyu’s sweater before it lands on top of his hand that covers his lap— you grin at the choked breath of surprise he lets out from the simple touch. 

“What— what, what are y–you—?” Beomgyu is about to bite through his lip at this rate, eyes wide and panicked as he watches your hand push his away, taking in the bulge in his pants as a flush of shame rises up his neck; you’ve caught him, but you don’t seem to be fazed in the slightest as you’re cupping him gently, looking up at him with doe eyes and lashes that flutter innocently— he thinks his heart might just explode from how quickly it’s pounding. 

“Wait, wait wait— we’re in— other people might—” he’s tripping over his words, saying so much yet nothing at all, but the way his eyes skirt over the perimeter is enough to tell you what he’s thinking— yet all you see are bookshelves that surround and hide you well— beneath the warmth of your hand that has yet to move, you can feel Beomgyu hardening within seconds. 

“It’s late. There’s no one else here right now,” you say sweetly, too sweet, a bit patronizing as you lean in close and coo the words directly into his ear— you’re brushing back his long hair with a gentle hand, tucking it behind his ears that he always seems to hide; they’re a pitiful bright red and decorated with silver piercings, absentmindedly caressing along his jaw with the back of your hand; his eyes flutter shut at the tender action, along with the feeling of your hand finally beginning to rock against his cock gently— and he melts into the chair, like putty in your hands as you watch his shoulders slump and cave into himself, his head hang at the stimulation; you’ve barely done anything, yet he’s already a mess— the sight surprises you.

“Go ahead,” you continue softly, hand cupping his jaw and cradling it carefully, attempting to get him to look at you again— and he follows your commands effortlessly, pretty eyes fluttering open and his head turning at the gentle push of your hand— and he’s looking at you with glassy, wide eyes, cheeks flushed pink and mouth parted as his eyes begin to flutter shut again— and your thumb is rubbing soothing circles along his cheekbone teasingly, leaning in slightly to whisper again, close enough that he can feel your breath fanning against the tip of his nose, “Puppy, look at me.”

He follows your command in a heartbeat; he’s met with another of your sickeningly sweet smiles, deceiving and comforting all at the same time. 

“Go ahead now puppy,” you murmur, any movements of your hand ceasing entirely as you watch him with eager eyes, watching the way he seems to sober up at the loss of your touch, “take my hand off— c’mon, take it off if you really want to.”

A moment passes— he really should be taking your hand off, shouldn’t he? But his mind is clouded now and you look so pretty under the warm library lights, pristine and perfect as always, glossy lips and lidded eyes encouraging him with a deceivingly fond look— but Beomgyu loves it, and he loves the way you laugh mockingly at him, unable to control the way he whines petulantly and shakes his head, giving you your answer by thrusting his aching cock into your hand desperately.

“Good boy,” you utter absentmindedly, a compliment that makes Beomgyu’s hips stutter as you finally begin to inch up his bulge, careful fingers making quick work to undo his pants— and with one last glance at the deserted area around you, you’re slipping your hand inside and past the tight waistband of his boxers. 

“Haah—!” Beomgyu is slapping a hand over his mouth and beating you to it, eyes wide and face even more flushed than before as he stares down at the way your hand disappears beneath the material of his boxers, expertly wrapping around his length and slowly beginning to jerk him off underneath the table. 

You don’t seem to be worked up by any of this at all; your eyes are lidded with a slight boredom, a tiredness he’s seen at every one of your study sessions, watching the way you turn back to your homework and begin reading the instructions, hand still working expertly at his length as you do; Beomgyu has to press another hand firmly against his mouth the moment your thumb is swiping over his tip, collecting the constant arousal that collects there and using it as lube— you don’t even bat an eye at him during all this. 

After a few minutes, you’re able to hear the slick sounds of your hand working against his cock effortlessly; the poor boy is aroused and leaking beyond belief, now sporting a wet patch against his pants that you seem to be dead-set on worsening— your pace is picking up and you don’t bother to glance at Beomgyu to check up on him, though you also don’t bother to hide the way your lips quirk in amusement at the sight of him trying (and failing) to keep his composure. 

“M–mmh, agh— close, s’close…” Beomgyu stutters out pathetically, bucking his hips up messily and turning back into that desperate and rambly mess from the first time you sucked him off; his voice is deep and breathy as he whispers out these pleas to you, begs to not stop, to go faster, to—

“Beomgyu,” you whisper coyly, using this chance to finally put your plan into action, “Beomgyu baby, d’you wanna cum? Hmm? Want me to make you feel good?”

He’s nodding thoughtlessly; of course he’s nodding, his mind has gone blank and there’s nothing else in there that seems to make sense except for the way your warm hand wraps around his cock so perfectly, unable to stop the choked whines he lets out every time he feels you squeeze him teasingly. 

“Then you gotta do something for me, okay pup?”  you coo out, making sure to use the nickname you know he loves so much— he lets out a choked whimper at the sound, brows knit tightly together and hair falling in front of his face with the way he hangs his head— and you’re leaning in close to him again, breath fanning on his skin and your palm slapping his cheek softly, tapping at it to get his attention; it works like a charm, and his glassy eyes are meeting yours once more. “Puppy, are you listening?”

“I’m—” his words get cut off by a weak whine, feeling your hand tighten teasingly around him, “I’m listening— I’m listening.” 

“Good,” you coo out, feeling the way his hips buck and he starts becoming restless, “now if you wanna cum, you gotta promise me something, okay?” 

Anything, anything for you, he breathes out absentmindedly, and you’re sure he has no idea what he’s even agreeing to at this point. 

“Don’t act like you know me when we’re in public,” you say sweetly, muddling his mind by increasing your pace, by doing exactly what you’ve noted makes him squirm and cry the most, “I don’t know you, you don’t know me— we’re strangers.” 

You notice the way his face is twisting up in confusion; his mouth is parting and he’s fighting to say something, to ask why— but you’re not giving him a chance to, brushing his hair back and cupping his face, turning him to look at you and digging your nails into his cheeks to get him to meet your eyes; through the intense pleasure you give him, you can still see the hurt that swims within. You let out a soft coo at the pathetic sight.

“Come on, promise me, okay?” you pout, “you’re a good boy, right? You’ll keep your promise?” 

His hips are stuttering and fucking into your fist again; you’ve got him pinned down precisely. Any coherent thought is fading out of Beomgyu’s mind and the only thing he’s concerned himself with is his impending orgasm, the feeling of pleasure that is only heightened with every string of praise you say to him. 

“Be a good little puppy and say you’ll promise me,” you say, thumb swiping over his bottom lip before you’re pulling at it, dark eyes observing the way he melts before your touch and finally gives in— he’s nodding, you’ve got him right where you want him, and all you needed was a little bit of mindless praise. “c’mon, say it, say it and you can cum.”

“I promise,” he breathes out, whiny and high pitched and strained, as though speaking was a challenge for him, “I’ll do anything, please— pleasepleaseplease, let me cum, I’ll— I promise.”

“There we go baby,” you hum in approval, pressing a peck to his pouting lips and taking in the way his waterline is filled with tears that hang precariously, “such a good boy— my good boy.”

His hips stutter, rising off the seat, and you’re feeling warm spurts of cum land on your skin. His mouth is falling open and you’re sure he might just let out a loud noise, so before you can think twice, you’re pulling his face close to you and smashing your lips against his; he whines weakly into mouth, and you’re swallowing it greedily, kissing him languidly and guiding him through his high with praise that makes his breath stutter and his knees weak. 

You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and good.

It takes a while before Beomgyu is finally coming to his senses. He’s panting softly against your mouth, lips swollen and bitten at, his cock sensitive as the feeling of you continuing to pump him slowly suddenly becomes too much; with a shaky hand, he presses against your shoulder and attempts to signal you to stop. You’re pulling away immediately. 

Beomgyu looks, for lack of a better term, absolutely destroyed. His face is flushed and his eyes are droopy with exhaustion, hair mussed and messy and his clothes in complete disarray; you look down, and you’re wincing in half amusement and half pity at the sight of the wet spot against Beomgyu’s jeans. He’s following your gaze, and if he could turn any redder, you’re sure he definitely would’ve; his ears burn. 

Your hand is messy; his cum is still coated on your skin, sticky and incriminating as it sticks to your fingers and pools in between, a grimace twisting your face into a look of dismay as you stare down at the mess— before you can even think of what to do about it, Beomgyu is handing you a tissue. 

His hand is shaky as he extends it out to you; your gaze is snapping up to meet his, only you’ve found that he can’t look at you at all— it seems as though the fog in his mind has already subsided and he’s realized what you’ve asked of him, lips pressed together and face still flushed as you finally take it from him. He turns away from you immediately, pulling his sweater over his lap and staring down at the disarray of textbooks and notebooks before him. 

The silence is suddenly unbearable. You feel awkward as you wipe at your skin, even more so when you’re stuck with nothing but a soiled tissue and a hand that’s still undeniably dirty, the tension between you two now growing tenfold by the second as you finally decide that you should probably just go— it’s not like he’d be surprised by it anyway. 

You’re opening your mouth to excuse yourself— to ignore the elephant in the room, to simply run away with a coy smile like you always do— but Beomgyu is beating you to the punch, and you can’t even hide the startled flinch your body does as he stands and begins to pack up hastily, shoving his materials into his book bag without a second glance to see if everything is perfectly aligned and neat.

You can only sit there and watch; it’s clear that your words seem to have gotten to him, and though you were expecting the awkwardness that would stem from it, you didn’t expect Beomgyu to be upset; your mind races to find reasons why, to try and wrap your head around why he would be feeling this way. 

“I asked the professor how you were doing in the class, since you never seem to want to tell me,” Beomgyu finally says, breaking the tension and adjusting the materials in his bag to be just the way he likes it; he zips his bag shut in one aggressive swoop, and you can’t help the surprise on your face when he sends you a harsh glare. 

“He says you’ve been improving greatly; said you were a good student from the very start, that you only needed to catch up on the materials.” he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder, pushing the chair in and taking a step back from your dumbfounded figure, “so it looks to me that you achieved your goal with our sessions.”

A moment passes— and your eyes widen slightly, catching on to what he’s trying to tell you, finding that you really want to deny the professor’s claims, even if they are true. But your pride impedes you from uttering a single word, knowing that it would kill you to try and coax Beomgyu to stay with you, to keep these study sessions going— and through this sudden urge, you catch yourself wondering why you would even want this to continue.

“I’m glad my help seemed to work— but it seems that you don’t even need it anymore,” Beomgyu finalizes what he needed to say, and you can see the way his shoulders practically sag from the relief of getting his thoughts across; his hand goes to tug his oversized sweater down, completely covering his lap and the mess you left— he grimaces softly. 

“What? So that’s it?” is all you can say, watching his face harden at your words, “Just like that? What about me?”

His face twists up in anger— your words have struck a nerve, and suddenly, he’s remembering why no one wanted to tutor you in the first place. 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” is all he says, taking another step back and increasing the distance between you two, “anyone would be willing to tutor you with the rate you like to offer.”

You both know what he really wants to say— just use your money on someone else to get what you want, like you always do. You find that you can’t really say anything to that. You remain silent.

Beomgyu turns around, and leaves; he doesn’t bother to say goodbye, and you’re left to watch his retreating figure, the hastiness of his pace and the way he continuously tugs his oversized sweater down over and over, even if it doesn’t move an inch. 

That’s it, you tell yourself, leaning back against your chair, staring down at the display before you, at the notes you were actually taking, the work you were finally doing, you finally got what you wanted. 

After a moment, the seat next to you is feeling a lot emptier than it did seconds ago; the room feels endless, as though you were left alone in this lonely labyrinth. Beomgyu’s words echo in your head, and you frown. 

Is this what you wanted?

 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu has kept his promise well; you haven’t seen him in weeks. 

Not around campus, not around the dining halls, not even in the library, a place you’ve found yourself actually attending regularly— not even in the only class you shared— and it seems as though he’s vanished off the face of the Earth. 

You’ve found yourself thinking about him more often than you’d like; wondering if he’s okay, if he’s off at one of his many jobs again, if he’s resting— it makes you shiver with disgust every time you catch yourself, grimacing at the idea that you would even find yourself worried about him— and while you tell yourself that you’ve finally gotten rid of one of your biggest burdens, you can still feel the nagging feeling to talk to him every time you see his contact in your phone.

“Did you finally get him off your trail?” Yunjin asks you one day, when you’re busy checking the due dates for this week’s assignments online, making a mental schedule of what to work on first as you leave your food untouched; her words are snapping you out of your trance, looking up at her with a gaze that screams I wasn’t listening, what? 

“Your little plaything— the loser guy?” she drawls, watching your face carefully, taking your small reaction as a sign that you’ve caught on, “did you finally shake him off?” 

“I— yeah, I did,” you say apathetically, letting out a soft tsk as you’re looking back at your laptop, “finally.”

“Wow, look at you,” Yunjin awes, seeing the way your brows furrowed in concentration and you have yet to eat, too immersed in your course load to roll your eyes at her clear, mocking tone, “looks like he really did a number on you— I didn’t know you used your laptop for anything other than shopping.”

“Yunjin, come on,” you sigh, jaw clenching as you suddenly don’t find yourself in the mood for her teasing, “I mean, I know I’ve been slacking really bad recently, but you know that’s not true.”

She doesn’t seem to take you seriously— then again, no one ever really does, a constant in your life that makes you jaw tick and your eyes mentally roll— and she laughs, shaking her head and pouting as though you were a thing to be pitied. You wonder how much of this is supposed to be friendly teasing. 

“Yeah sure,” she sighs, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand and leaning over to look at your screen, “Don’t work too hard though, it might hurt your brain.”

You ignore her comment; Yunjin doesn’t seem to care about your silence, doesn’t bother to gauge your reaction as she continues to poke at yet another of her salads, pushing the contents around with her fork in boredom as she speaks up again. 

“You know, hopefully he has the same effect on me.”

This gets your attention immediately. Yunjin is looking at you with surprised eyes that feign innocence, raising a confused brow at your narrowed eyes. 

“What do you mean by that,” you ask slowly, attempting to keep your tone indifferent as you speak.

Yunjin shrugs, as though what she was about to tell you next wasn’t of any importance— and it really shouldn’t be, but you still can’t ignore the way it makes your body feel like you’ve been shocked with a wave of electricity. 

“I mean, your little tutor seemed to be such a good influence so…” she stabs at her salad lazily, bringing up the fork to her lips before she’s sending you a small smile. “I thought I’d give him a try.” 

You bristle quite visibly at that; your mind is running a million miles an hour, wondering where this sudden idea is coming from, being friends with Yunjin for longer than you can remember as your mouth begins to run before you can stop it. 

“You said your parents have tried to set you up with multiple tutors— the best in the country,” you say, brows knitted together as Yunjin simply shrugs her shoulders, raising her brows as if to say and? “You said you’d rather die than to get tutored— you said it was a waste of time.”

“Yeah… but…” Yunjin shrugs again, and you wonder how much of this is just an impulse from her as she continues, “I don’t know, my parents are on my ass again about giving me a tutor, and I don’t wanna deal with all those stuck up pricks they send to me.”

She admits her true motives with her next words. 

“And I don’t know… he’s kinda cute?” she says, laughing like a schoolgirl who was embarrassed to admit a crush, “In like, a pathetic kinda way— and now that he’s done tutoring you, I’m sure he has a slot that opened up.”

Your mind is spiraling with things to say to her; you want to tell her to stay away from Beomgyu, to not try to mess with him— tell her that he’s a loser that isn’t worth her time, a nerd with an obsession with a lame game and the owner of a creepy bird— but you catch yourself, biting your tongue and taking in the way Yunjin simply looks at you expectantly; as though waiting for your embarrassing outburst, you realize.

With a scoff, you’re slamming your laptop shut— Yunjin flinches in surprise. 

“I’m sure one did— I’m leaving,” is all you say, knowing that nothing would change, even if you tried anything. Yunjin scrambles to try to get you to stay, but all attempts fall short— you tell her there’s an exam you need to study for, and she sighs in defeat. 

“You’re coming to the party this Saturday, at least?” she says, clearly annoyed at your sudden sensitivity, at your sudden change in attitude, “you promised you would.”

Your mind is attempting to remember what she could be talking about— then you’re finally remembering the event she spontaneously planned a few weeks back, telling you that she hasn’t seen everyone together in one place in so long— and while you found yourself agreeing excitedly back then, you don’t have much energy to do so now. But Yunjin is staring at you expectantly, raising a brow at your silence, and you find that there’s really not much of a choice for you. (There is, but you know there’d be consequences if you chose wrong.)

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Perfect!” she beams, eyes crinkling and her hands clasping together happily, as though there was no previous tension between you at all mere moments before, “I’ll see you then.” 

You merely nod, turning around and taking your food to the nearest trash can— you weren’t really hungry, anyway. 

You can feel Yunjin’s eyes pinpointed on you the whole way out. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’ve always loved parties. 

You loved to dress up, make yourself look pretty and catch the eyes of everyone with your pretty dresses and makeup done to perfection; loved the attention that came with it, the way you could let loose for once and not worry about your image, drinking and feeling your body become loose, mind finally being allowed to forget about any worries you had. 

You were known to be a social butterfly; the pretty airhead that couldn’t stop talking once you got her started— always the life of the party, never one to cling to the wall and stare at the dance floor wistfully. 

Standing before the beach house of Yunjin’s parents, one they didn’t use as much as they once did when Yunjin was only a little girl with an affinity to the sea, you begin to wonder where that part of you has gone. 

You feel dreadfully out of place. You haven’t even gone inside yet. 

Music is blasting and the windows are dark, save for the bright neon lights that come from an unknown source; Yunjin has always been a sucker for that club vibe, anyway. You want to go in, want to walk inside and pretend like it’s nothing, but this time, you can only stand at the bottom of the steps and tug your dress down a little more. You feel like a prude. 

Deep breaths, you tell yourself— one in, one out, your chest rising and falling slowly as you  try calm your racing pulse— and with a silent okay of reassurance to yourself, you will your body to begin its trek up the steps. 

The door is unlocked; it’s not like you needed to knock to get in, anyway— only those with an invite even knew this party was happening. The place isn’t packed— nor is it meant to be— but it’s a bit crowded at least, filled with familiar faces for the most part; all people you grew up with or around, sons and daughters of influential families that grew to be nothing but partiers and troublemakers. In other words, your usual crowd. 

There are some exceptions to these guests, however. People you’ve seen around campus, student athletes with a scholarship and business majors that have already found themselves internships to the companies others in the room are a part of— and it seems that no matter how much everyone here tries to pretend and deny, they can never really separate their personal lives from the responsibilities passed down to them at birth. 

Your first instinct is to beeline it to the kitchen; in other words, to the makeshift bar Yunjin always sets up, an impressive display of alcohol and even a hired bartender making drinks left and right— you immediately ask for two jello shots, something Yunjin always made for herself and in extension, you, not in the mood for anything stronger as you opt to get this nervous energy out of you instead; you proceed to get two more a second after, just out of habit.

You should find Yunjin; let her know you’re here, make sure she doesn’t try to scold and bitch at you for promising to go to her party only to end up ditching— you’re sure she’d never believe you unless she saw you with her own eyes. 

The kitchen is empty. The makeshift dance floor seems to be empty as well, spending a few minutes scouring the place and shrugging off any passing advances; with a heavy sigh, you decide that you should check upstairs, just in case, ready to make your way up before a rough hand is grabbing at your elbow and tugging you back; the smell of alcohol greets you before Yunjin can. 

“You actually came!” Yunjin yells over the music, her face flushed from the alcohol and her balance off as she stumbles slightly; you make a quick move to catch her, eyes drifting down before you’re catching sight of the uncomfortable heels she dons— meeting her gaze once more, she pouts. 

“I don’t even know why I wore these,” she groans, running a hand through her auburn hair, watching the way it falls back into place perfectly— she then proceeds to scan over your own outfit, letting out a sound of awe as she smiles, “you look great! Pretty as always.”

She’s muttering something else, but you can’t really hear it over the sound of the music; eventually, you find your eyes drifting away to the dancefloor, wondering if there’s anyone else you could recognize— your eyes lock with a particular, infamous athlete’s, one that you’ve been dying to get with since the beginning of the semester— and you’re suddenly thankful for the buzz the jello shots provided you, Yunjin eventually following your gaze and cheering at the realization of what you were planning. 

She’s pushing you forward before you can even think things through; the man with dark hair simply smiles at you, coy eyes beckoning you closer— and with a deep breath, you decide to let go of any worries you had and go back to being your airheaded, carefree self— even if just for a moment. 

“Hey,” he says simply, a hand going to rest on your waist; the music is much too loud for you to converse properly, but you don’t really seem to mind as you allow yourself to get lost in the rhythm instead— that, and because your tipsy brain has forgotten his name, and the low lights that obscure his face aren’t exactly helping either. 

But it seems as though he was thinking the exact thing; he’s leaning down to ask the exact question you were wondering into your ear, deep voice and pouty lips that brush against the shell of your ear making you shiver— you’re muttering your name into his ear, tilting your head toward him to allow him to do the same.

Yeonjun. Your head seems to clear for the moment. 

“Looks like we finally meet,” he grins, still close to your face in order for you to be able to hear him; your face twists up in confusion, and he laughs softly before continuing. “You’re just as pretty as I’ve been told— my friend talks a lot about you. You’re trouble, hmm?”

“Your friend?” is all you can say in response, placing a hand against his chest and leaning in closer, the music muddling his words slightly; his hand continues to hold you steady, and the two of you continue to sway to the rhythm. 

“Yeah,” he laughs, staring at your face that’s twisted up in obvious confusion, “My roommate, Beomgyu? I heard he tutored you for a bit.”

His name is enough to clear your head entirely, as though a bucket of ice water has been poured over your body and drenched your figure. 

“He— he told you about me?” you ask, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so pathetic, for feeling so curious as you stare at Yeonjun with undeniably hopeful eyes; instead, all you get is another amused laugh from him. 

“Are you kidding? You practically traumatized him!” he jokes, though you don’t find yourself laughing along to that, lips twitching and a frown threatening to take over your features, “You’d think he was scared of you from the way he talked about you.”

You don’t respond to that; you’re not sure how you would respond to that anyway, letting out a weak laugh and falling silent as you look over his shoulder and fall back into the beat of the song— but it seems as though Yeonjun is too drunk, and frankly, unaware to take in your reaction, because he’s leaning into your ear and murmuring words that strike the final blow into your heart.

“He’s here, actually— Yunjin and him really seem to be hitting it off. Didn’t think he had it in him”

You chose to bite your tongue, biting back a bitter comment about how he really doesn’t have it in him to woo someone like Yunjin. But Yeonjun is too amused by his own comment to pick up on the sudden sourness of your mood, mouthing the lyrics to whatever’s playing and guiding your hips with a hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he sends you a wink. But you’re too shaken by this sudden news that you no longer feel the need to play along, much less try to hook up with him tonight. Now that you think about it, the once superficially important goal of chasing after the athlete before you had been pushed down the list of your priorities long, long ago. 

“‘M gonna get a drink,” you mutter miserably, pushing against Yeonjun’s chest and ignoring the way he immediately begins to complain, untangling yourself from his grip as you leave with one final, half-hearted sorry!

Screw jello-shots, you think to yourself, stumbling back to the kitchen with sore feet, I need something stronger. 

Something stronger comes in the form of a mysterious drink you let the bartender make for you; you didn’t exactly keep track of the ingredients he listed off to you, simply nodding instead when he asked if that’s what you wanted— if you think it’s strong enough, you replied with a smile, choosing to ignore the hesitant nod he gave you in return. 

The speed at which you downed the drink was enough to have the bartender at your side with a water and a warning look— you ignored it, of course, drinking the water with a slight pout, only bothering to drink half before you were back to the dancefloor; maybe you could distract yourself with Yeonjun for a while, you think. 

But any plans to track down the said man come to a glaring halt the moment you’re stepping out the kitchen; your eyes widen, surprised expression mirroring Hueningkai’s as he stands before you— his eyes scan over your figure, running back up and stopping at your hazed eyes and flushed face, the slight sway in your movement helping everything click in his mind; you’re a few drinks away from getting utterly wasted, and it seems as though that’s the path you’re getting ready to take. 

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Hueningkai says, watching your face scrunch in confusion, taking a step forward to hear him better, “Thought you’d be too busy doing another study date to come.”

“Shut up,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and scoffing at the implications of his words, “And why do you care? I’m surprised you’re not fucking a random girl in Yunjin’s bathroom right now.”

“I tried,” Hueningkai rolls his eyes, smiling in that obnoxiously smug way as he watches you frown. He leans in, placing a hand on the doorway and above your head as he reaches out to grab your waist; tugging you close to him, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he mumbles quietly, “but she wasn’t anywhere as good as you.”

“You’re gross,” you glare, leaning back as you let your lips upturn in disgust, already knowing what he’s implying— asking of you— with a simple look at his face. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Are you still mad?” Hueningkai asks, beginning his chase even after you’ve successfully escaped his clutches, ignoring him with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms and make your way out to the living room, “you never even told me what was wrong, you just ran away and kept bitching at me.”

You huff; it doesn’t seem like Hueningkai will give up anytime soon, so you’re whirling around and sending him a pointed glare as you finally give him the closure he so desperately keeps asking for. 

“I did tell you what was wrong,” you start, clenching your jaw at the way he immediately opens his mouth to refute that, “you treat me like nothing more than a fuck buddy, acting as though we weren’t actually friends before that! All you do is make me feel worthless, then you have the audacity to turn around and play the victim?! Like seriously, Hueningkai, is this all you see me as? A body to fuck?”

Hueningkai began asking you to keep it down the moment you felt yourself get riled up; volume rising, face heating up, you ignored him, ignored the odd looks you got from others, deciding that since the man before you wanted to hear your thoughts so badly, you’d let it all out.

“We used to be friends. We grew up together!” you say, feeling ridiculous for continuing to grieve the past, the days where things weren’t so complicated and all you felt for Hueningkai was a harmless crush. “I can’t believe I let you use me like this, just because I thought I liked— god, I’m so stupid.”

You don’t give him a chance to retaliate; you’re turning around and ready to weave your way through the faceless people and go outside, only making it halfway before Hueningkai is grabbing at your elbow and asking you to wait. His persistence garners yet another roll of your eyes.

“You what? Hang on, what was that last part?” he asks, trailing behind you and desperately asking for an answer— because of course he would hone in on that part. You continue to ignore him, tugging your arm out his hold and beginning to push through the crowd at the dancefloor— seriously, how many people did Yunjin invite? You seem to have severely underestimated the capacity of this place.

“You— did you like me? Do you like me?” Hueningkai’s last attempts to get something, anything from you are childish and do nothing but make your stomach churn, “Come on, we can talk this out, be mature about it— I can fix things, I can make it up to, yeah? Hey, don’t bail on me now—”

“Enough!” you yell, getting yet another round of side glances and strange looks from others; listening in like always, pretending horribly to be ignorant to it all.

You’re right before the doorway; so close, yet you know that if you leave now, Hueningkai will continue to follow and pester you— so as horrible as the timing is, you realize with a heavy feeling that now is your chance to do what you’ve been debating on for so long. 

“Please, I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say, your words weak as you look right into his eyes— and everything surfaces into your mind once more, the innocent hope you once had of stealing his heart one day, “Let’s just end this— everything.”

The words feel familiar on your tongue, only this time, you realize that this is the person you should’ve directed this message to in the first place.

“We don’t know each other,” you say, jaw clenched at the way it takes Hueningkai a second to process things due to the music that tries to drown you out— you still catch onto the exact moment where it all registers in his head, eyes widening and mouth opening to protest— but you beat him to it, not giving him another opportunity to try and haphazardly fix thing, albeit momentarily. Your eyes meet his, and your heart wrenches upon seeing that he’s more annoyed than hurt. 

“Don’t talk to me— we’re strangers now.”

The final blow is like a weight that is immediately taken off your shoulders; you reach to open the door and slip out. This time, Hueningkai doesn’t follow. 

The air is cool on your face and a nice contrast to the stuffy air inside the house. Slowly, you make your way to the corner of the porch fence, stumbling over due to the soreness of your feet and the alcohol that still runs through your system. So many emotions course through you, seemingly wanting to bring about a wave of nostalgia and sadness, lingering feelings for the man you’ve just let behind— but you won’t allow yourself to cry over him, scoffing instead at the way you allowed yourself to foolishly bend over backwards for him for so long. 

“Wow,” you hear a voice say, not bothering to look back as you immediately recognize who it is; Yunjin joins you, leaning against the fence and craning her head forward to properly survey you— you don’t bother looking at her, even more so when she finally continues,“That was harsh back there.”

You sigh. Because of course Yunjin heard that, and of course she’s the one to bring it up immediately after. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually cut him off— I thought you’d always be like, head over heels, hopelessly in love with him— like a little girl, you know? You never seemed to grow out of him.” You glare at her, but continue to remain silent; she laughs, throwing her head back at the sight, only to wobble back slightly from the sudden motion.

“Oh come onnnnn, you know it’s true!” she coos, proceeding to poke at you teasingly and twist her voice to sound like you, “Huening called me pretty. Huening bought me the purse I really wanted. Huening wants me to go with him to dinner with his parents. Huening Huening Huening—!”

Her laugh is obnoxious, even after you’ve hissed at her to be quiet; she continues to mock you under her breath, drunkenly quoting things she overheard from your outburst, and you realize with a disappointed sigh that she definitely won’t be stopping soon. 

“Heyyy, don’t get all sensitive on me now!” she whines, grabbing your hand and tugging you back when you attempt to leave; it doesn’t work, and you merely tug yourself out her grip, not even bothering to respond to her cries to stay.

Yunjin pauses her dramatics the moment you’re turning and leaving, scoffing at the way she offhandedly apologizes, words slurring together as she says that she’s sorry if you feel offended! You’re shaking your head at that, making your way back to where the stairs are, glancing back at the home one last time— and you’re freezing for a second when you meet Beomgyu’s gaze, the boy wide eyed and awkward as he stands at the doorway. Behind you, Yunjin cheers drunkenly. 

“Beomie! Hey, could you tell her to stop being so dramatic? Like come on, I’m just trying to have fun,” Yunjin’s rambles are left unacknowledged by you both, and you finally find strength within you to walk away after a second; it’s not like you and Beomgyu had anything to talk about, anyway. 

Behind you, Yunjin calls for Beomgyu to go to her and give her attention; her pleas fade from your ears and you’ve finally made it onto the beach, pulling out your phone and fumbling through your contacts before you’re finally ordering an Uber to pick you up instead— it was too late in the night for you to bother your driver. 

The closest driver will be here in fifteen minutes; you’ll spend those fifteen minutes sitting before the ocean, clothes riddled with sand and body still sobering up slowly, your shoes placed to the side as you dip your legs into the water— fifteen minutes of silence, allowing you to ponder if these people are really the ones you’ve chosen to affiliate with for half your life. 

You’ve become so entranced with the white noise of the waves that you couldn’t pick up on the approaching footsteps of another; it isn’t until the said person is sitting at your side that you’re finally snapping out of your trance. 

Beomgyu settles down beside you without a word. You watch him for a second, taking in his appearance— he must’ve been dragged here, if anything, his attire not straying from the usual sweaters and jeans— and you look away, staring back out into the horizon as silence continues to drag down between the two of you. 

“You’re not sensitive,” Beomgyu suddenly says, his voice so quiet and hesitant you almost missed it, “Or dramatic.”

You laugh humorlessly. 

“I know.”

“You deserve to feel wanted,” Beomgyu adds, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, taking in your troubled expression and distant gaze, “...And, your friends are all assholes.”

“...I know.”

It’s quiet. You’re staring down at your feet, at the waves that slowly make their way up your shins before they retreat. Tonight made everything clearer than ever— why did you ever bother to associate with those people? Family and social status was the answer, but as you sit on the beach and away from the rowdy, ruthless crowd, you realize that you feel much more comfortable where you are. 

“No one ever takes me seriously,” you say suddenly, staring at the ground and tracing shapes into the sand, “I mean, I never really gave them reason to; it was all just fun and games at first— since I was a girl, I mean. Everyone thought that because I was so obsessed with superficial things that I just didn’t have anything going on in my head, and I guess that was enough to let me become a joke to everyone. A pretty airhead who just thinks about makeup and clothes and purses.”

“I mean, I worked hard to get to where I’m at, y’know? There’s more to me than just that. I won’t deny that my parents and their wealth helped get me a lot, and I certainly won’t deny that I seriously slacked this semester, but I— I don’t know, I just wish people wouldn’t take the shit I say and do like an absolute cosmic joke sometimes; that everyone I know and surrounded myself with wasn’t so superficial and fake.”

Your mouth just began running without you realizing it, forcing you to spill everything that’s been weighing on your mind; you don’t even bother stopping yourself, refusing to glance at the boy beside you as you continue. 

“And you wanna know what the worst part is? For a while, I started to believe what they thought of me, started to play into it if it meant them… liking me more. Ugh, that sounds so pathetic, seriously. I need to get it together.” You roll your eyes, tossing your head back as you scold yourself midway through your rambling, “I thought that if I acted all cute and stupid, if I just molded myself into what they liked, they… he would choose me. Would decide to keep me around for more than just a fuck. Would reciprocate years and years of pining and pretending to be cool with him fucking around with other people— all while he got all sulky if I even mentioned other guys.”

Silence. You go quiet for a moment, hand stilling for a moment, brows knitting together as you stare at the mess you’ve made in the sand; Beomgyu opens his mouth to say something, but is swiftly cut off by the sight of you sitting up straight abruptly. 

“But I’m worth more than that, y’know? I deserve to have someone take it slow with me, to like me for who I am, to really take me seriously. Even if I act ridiculous sometimes.” You sigh, your lips twitching in a soft smile as you finally look up from the mess in the sand and at Beomgyu; his eyes meet yours, doe-like and wide as always. You laugh at his expression, and his face heats up at the sight. 

“God, I’ve been really insufferable, huh?” you laugh, looking away from him the moment you felt your heart beating a bit faster, “I just never shut up, I’ve been told it’s really annoying— I didn’t mean to dump that all on you like that.”

“It’s alright,” Beomgyu says hastily, biting at his lip and averting your gaze as he continues, “I like listening to you talk.”

Your eyes widen and his words echo through your mind, bouncing off the walls and repeating the message over and over. I like listening to you talk. 

Your mind seems to have entirely blanked out at that; how do you even respond? All you know is that your body seems to heat up entirely after a second, shivers running through your spine as you attempt miserably to find something to say, something that’ll probably shatter the mood entirely— but you can’t, and you’re stuck in a silence that grows tense as minutes pass. 

The ding of a notification sounds from your phone; the two of you are looking down at the screen that lights up, and you immediately scramble to leave the moment you read that your car is here.

“I— I have to go,” you say lamely, wincing at your accidental stutter; you don’t give Beomgyu a chance to say anything more, wiping the sand off your clothes and giving him a half-hearted wave goodbye. “See ya.”

If anyone accused you of running away like a coward, you wouldn’t even bother to deny such claims— because it’s true, and you all but sprint away in order to get out of Beomgyu’s sight, eyes frantically sweeping over the street until you finally spot your Uber, sending a small wave and getting inside quickly. 

“Sorry about the mess,” you say sheepishly, glancing down at your shoes that tracked in remnants of sand; slowly, the car begins to move, and you’re staring out the window and watching Yunjin’s beach house pass by— in the very distance, your eyes catch onto Beomgyu, who remains sitting still by the shore. 

Your mind echoes his words to you, and you’re failing miserably to push down the way your stomach seems to be filled with a flurry of butterflies, the way your face heats up and a smile threatens to break through your face. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you’ve only felt something this intense one other instance, many years ago.

Fuck. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

It’s been a few weeks since Yunjin’s party; a few weeks since you stopped talking to her, a few weeks since you dropped all your snobby friends you only made for connections, a few weeks since you finally broke things off with Hueningkai. 

A few weeks since you realized that you might see Beomgyu as more than just a nerdy, pathetic loser. 

You’ve found that you have a lot more free time these days; now that you’re no longer worried about attending worthless cocktail parties or going golfing to help Yunjin impress a CEO’s son who she’s had her eye on for days, you’ve found that your life has become a lot more peaceful— or rather, boring. 

Your social life is nonexistent; what else did you expect, after cutting off practically everyone you knew? You’ve become a homebody, much more focused on your work and finding more mundane hobbies— your grades have never looked better. 

Avoiding Yunjin and anyone associated with her was simple; it was nothing, passing by her and pretending like you two never knew each other, like the two of you weren’t once attached by the hip. It never phased you to be in the same room as her, not even batting an eye when she found herself sitting a table away from you in the dining halls. 

You just wish you could say the same about Beomgyu. 

God, what the hell has gotten into you? You’ve become a fumbling, ridiculous mess, not even able to look him in the eye when you spot him in the halls, in the library, in cafes; your body heats up and words get stuck in your throat whenever he’s so much as close in proximity, always finding a way to flee as soon as possible— you don’t even bother being inconspicuous anymore. 

It was apparent to anyone who knew you that this behavior was a complete switch from your usual self— cocky, flirty, bold— and Beomgyu, who had to spend hours on end with you, knew that better than anyone. 

He’s able to spot your odd behavior immediately. Though unfortunately for him, he’s unable to come to a proper conclusion as to why you may be acting like that, and simply decides that you must be holding up your promise still; the promise to act like complete strangers, that is. 

Beomgyu frowns, staring at your back as you stand in line at the cafe across the campus library; you’re rigid, as though turning around and acknowledging the man behind you could kill you. Did you really hate him that much? He thought he made progress back at Yunjin’s party, your moment of vulnerability allowing him to see you in a completely new light— because after a moment of thought, after you fled the scene with an awkward wave and an empty smile, Beomgyu began to think; he really didn’t know anything about you. He didn’t even know your major.

All he knew about you were superficial things— and Beomgyu found himself oddly irritated by the thought, wondering if he was any better than the very people you were complaining about; it weighed his mind, finding himself prattling off to Yeonjun about it one day, laying on the couch and petting Toto absentmindedly as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“She’s an architecture major,” Yeonjun said from the kitchen, looking up from the stove and meeting Beomgyu’s surprised gaze, “Yunjin told me once that she’s been working to try and get an internship at her father’s company— starting from the bottom up and everything. Heard it’s super competitive over there.”

You were a lot more hardworking and studious than Beomgyu— or anyone, really— gave you credit for. And as he watched you recite your order to the cashier, something so convoluted that the boy wondered if it was even good, he found himself wanting to learn more about you. You stood off to the side, staring down at your phone with a concentrated pout, and he wondered if he should bite the bullet and finally attempt talking to you. 

Just as Beomgyu was mustering up the courage to say something, just as he was about to open his mouth, your name was called and you picked up your drink with a swiftness he’s never seen before, making your way out and passing Beomgyu in the blink of an eye. He’s left waiting for his drink long after, snapped out of his reverie by a text notification. 

Huh Yunjin:

im at the library rn r u coming ??

dont keep me waiting :(

Beomgyu sighs, and trudges his way to the library with a pout; the feeling is reminiscent, but he can’t help but find himself thinking that it was you he was studying with instead. He spots Yunjin’s bright head of orange hair instantly, eyes glued to her phone and brows knitted together in a soft frown— and though Beomgyu apologized for being late and asked her to start without him, she didn’t seem to bother to even get her materials out. 

Internally, Beomgyu finds himself rolling his eyes— But he’s masking that with a soft clear of his throat, his calm voice asking Yunjin to get her textbook out so they can start their session— and she finally looks up from her phone, bright eyes filled with confusion before she smiles sheepishly. 

“Oh right, the textbooks,” she murmurs, looking over at the seat next to her where she’s placed her bag, then across where Beomgyu sits; his eyes widen at the sight of her collecting her things, standing up and rounding the table before she sits next to him— before he can question what he’s doing, she scoots her chair closer to him, shoulders touching as she sends him an innocent smile. “I… forgot mine… you don’t mind if we share, right? You said you took this class last semester.”

Beomgyu can’t contain the way he lets out an exasperated breath; he pulls out his laptop, pulling up his digital copy as he mentally complains about how unprepared and demanding Yunjin always seemed to be— he can’t remember the last time she actually brought her own supplies; if anything, Beomgyu was sure she hadn’t even bought her required texts. 

And as he scrolls through the index in search of the needed chapter, he feels Yunjin leaning in closer; all under the guise of seeing the screen better, but Beomgyu knows better than to believe that her intentions are all innocent. And despite Beomgyu’s multiple attempts to scoot away from her, he quickly finds himself trapped by the girl again, frowning at the way she laughs at everything little thing he says and tugs at his sleeve when she’s confused about something. 

For a moment, Beomgyu wonders if she might actually be hitting on him— but he soon catches onto the way she peeks over his screen after each attempt to be touchy, how she glances in the same direction after every soft coo of that same nickname that makes him wince— and he follows the path of her gaze eventually, not entirely surprised at what he sees; if anything, it helps everything click together. 

Beomgyu spots you sitting two tables away, face twisted up in concentration and headphones obstructing your ears, head bobbing rhythmically as you scribble things on your notebook, glancing back at your laptop’s screen ever so often; he catches sight of numbers and equations, and he realizes that you must be working on math homework. 

Without realizing, he’s found himself staring at you; this side of you that he never saw much, private and calm and hardworking, the image you said you wished others saw in you— and, as though you could feel it, you’re looking up from your work, meeting Beomgyu’s eyes instantly and watching as he flusters and looks away; your eyes then fall onto the girl who has him backed into the corner of the table, who leans into him and glances over you with a slight quirk of her lips— she sends you a small wave, then turns back to Beomgyu, calling out his name softly. 

Undeniably curious, you lower the volume of your music slightly— you didn’t expect Yunjin to actually go through with her plans of getting Beomgyu to tutor her, and much less her lasting this long— you’re bringing up a hand to your head as subtly as you can, moving the right side of your headphone away from your ear slightly and allowing yourself to listen in to whatever it is they talk about. 

While Beomgyu attempts multiple times to tutor her and teach her materials, Yunjin can’t seem to stop steering away in a completely different direction; asking him entirely unrelated questions, blatantly flirting and acting coy as she pulls at his sweater everytime he seems hesitant to answer— the sight is slightly amusing, but you can’t deny the way it makes you wince with annoyance. 

“Today’s your day off, right?” Yunjin asks eventually, smiling widely when he nods, albeit hesitantly, “Great! You know how you said you’d take me to dinner if I got a good score on my test?” 

You hear the sound of Yunjin’s nails clicking against a screen; undoubtedly searching for something, the soft mutters of Beomgyu’s you were the one who struck up the deal, making you bite your tongue in a desperate attempt to remain inconspicuous; from the corner of your eye, you’re able to catch the way the said boy glances over at you. 

“Well… ta-da!” Yunjin squeals happily as she shoves the phone into Beomgyu’s face, allowing him to see her results for the said test. Beomgyu hums absentmindedly at the sight. 

“Your place at seven?” Yunjin grins, poking his shoulder teasingly; Beomgyu doesn’t answer, but she chooses to take that silence as a yes. “Great! I have to go actually; promised my girls I’d have brunch with them— you understand, right?” 

Instead of fumbling with his words and asking her to not leave so abruptly, Beomgyu simply nods and hums a soft uh-huh. The sight is enough to have Yunjin scoffing, slinging her purse on her shoulder and reaching over to grab Beomgyu’s chin— she tugs it and makes him face her, the action so sudden that his eyes widen drastically— and she smiles, squishing his cheeks teasingly and pouting at his distant behavior. 

“Don’t get all pouty with me— I’ll see you soon ‘kay?” before Beomgyu can even process anything, Yunjin leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling her lipstick transfer onto his skin— he’s slightly dazed, reaching up immediately to place a hand over the spot, staring at Yunjin with furrowed brows; she simply laughs and waves at him one final time, practically skipping out from how giddy she seemed.

From a distance, you watch Beomgyu quietly reach for his bag, his expression blank as he pulls out a tissue and his phone; you watch him use his front camera as a mirror, wiping at the lipstick with a soft frown. 

From a distance, you laugh to yourself— the distaste that appears on his face is obvious to you, and you can’t help but shake your head at Yunjin’s ridiculous behavior; god, was that what you looked like whenever you would bail on him mid-session? The very thought was terribly humbling to you. 

Yunjin’s attempts to get back at you by using Beomgyu were more than obvious; you think back to her actions, the way she blatantly flirted with him, the plans she suddenly tacked on him— on his day off, not to mention— and you roll your eyes, deciding that you might as well put an end to all these dramatics; not just for your sake, but for Beomgyu’s as well. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu is groaning to himself the moment he hears a sharp knock on his door— the last thing he wanted to do on his day off was spend his time entertaining a girl who was clearly using him for some odd, petty reasons— but he got ready nonetheless, texted Yunjin his address hours prior after being told that her driver would come pick him up, (he hadn’t gotten a response in relation to that message, but she’ll probably see it soon) and waited patiently on the couch, albeit much earlier than the proposed plans. 

Another sharp knock— Beomgyu wishes he had some proper excuse for her, told her that he already had plans with his roommate, but the said man was off on his shift already— he trudges over to the door, twisting the doorknob with a heavy reluctance, and sighs. He braces himself as he swings open the door to greet Yunjin with a halfhearted smile. 

“Hey,” you pant instead, leaning against the doorway and ignoring his confused— and shocked— expression, “I— am I late? I thought I was early, did you get ready early?” 

You gulp; since when could Beomgyu clean up so nicely? He’s forgone his usual, comfortable and casual outfits in favor of a perfectly pressed button up and a clean hairstyle— Yunjin must’ve planned to take him to quite the expensive place, you think to yourself. 

“Of course you’d be the type to get ready an hour early,” you mutter bitterly to yourself, the comment enough to have the said man glancing at the nearest clock in confusion— and just like you said, a bright six o’clock greeted him on the digital clock. 

“You— what’re you doing here?” Beomgyu stutters pathetically, unable to do much but relent to the way you step inside, closing the door behind him and turning around to face you, “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Yeah well, I lied.” you simply say, the words confusing the poor man even more, “I came to tell you to cancel your plans with Yunjin.” 

“Can— huh?” he searches your expression for the traces of a joke, but finds that you’re dead serious. “Why would I cancel? That’s rude.”

“Jesus, can’t you see?!” You say exasperatedly, reaching out to place your hands on Beomgyu’s shoulders, fingers digging in so he can look at you— it’s only when he finally does that you continue. “She doesn’t want to do this— she’s using you. She’s doing this to get back at me.”

“But why would she…” Beomgyu utters, and you wonder with a roll of your eyes where that boy genius of yours went. 

“Beomgyu,” you start, the sound foreign to the said boys ears as he blinks at you owlishly. You bite at your lip, brows furrowing at you think over what to say— you start again, but your words are hesitant and muddled. “She’s using you because she’s petty and because… because…” 

He gives you a look encouraging you to continue.

“Because— god, are you really gonna make me say this?!” you break, letting go of his shoulders and taking a step back— your face feels like it’s on fire and your stomach feels like it’s been twisted into knots, your hands clammy as you glance over at Beomgyu again— and he looks at you with the most stupid, oblivious expression known to mankind. 

You take a quick, deep breath, and you start again. 

“Choi Beomgyu. She’s using you because I…” you say sternly, reaching over suddenly to grab his face, cupping his cheeks and taking in the way he becomes red at your touch. You bring him close to you, pressing your lips in a fine line and hesitating before you observe his face— and god, he looks so pathetic and lost that you don’t even seem to mind the way the next words tumble out of you, fluid and clear and true. 

“Because I like you.”

Silence. You’re waiting anxiously in response, looking into Beomgyu’s eyes in anticipation, but all he does is stare. He stares and stares and stares, and for the first time in a while, you’re unsure of what to make of this reaction. 

“And I’m not lying either.”

Still nothing. His skin is warming up under your fingertips, and his mouth opens hesitantly to say something, only to close again— he must still doubt you, so you decide to take a leap of faith and reassure him the only way you know how.

“I think you’re cute and kinda pathetic in an endearing way, I think that those glasses really compliment your face and make your eyes look super doll-like, and I don’t really mind Toto. I think he’s still a bit weird to look at but I love that you love him, and it makes total sense to me that out of all the pets you could’ve had you decided to get a big freaky green bird of all things, and I think it’s super cute that you’re attached to him— I think you look kinda hot when you get frustrated on a problem, and I think it’s really hard to hold myself back from kissing you when you start stuttering at me like an idiot— also, it’s really not that bad that you play League of Legends, and I can’t believe I’m gonna admit this, but I started playing it myself and it’s not that bad— but that’s not the point, what I’m saying is that you’re— you’re a nerd and a loser but I don’t mind because I really— fuck, I really like—”

His lips are mashing onto yours before you can process his sudden movement, rough and sloppy and desperate that all you can do is slide your hands into his hair and pull him closer; his hands wrap around you in response, one on the small of your back and the other against the back of your head as he pulls you closer still, close until your bodies are pressed flush together. 

The two of you are so rough with your movements that he’s stumbling back, knocking against the wall and groaning softly at the impact; you’re sneaking your tongue into his parted lips, listening to the way he pants and moans against your mouth, slotting a leg between his and feeling as his thigh is quick to retaliate and press against your core. 

“Mghh– ugh, fuck,” you moan mindlessly, feeling his hand press against the small of your back, forcing you to arch and push your weight onto his strong muscle, allowing yourself to rock against it desperately; your mind is running a million miles an hour, pulling away from his lips breathlessly and staring at the gloss that has transferred onto him; his eyes look dazed, lips parted and in need for more as he tries to lead your head back to his. 

“Can’t believe she tried to use you against me,” you mutter, going back in to press quick, chaste kisses all along his face; he curls in shyly at the gesture, weakly grasping at your clothes as he feels the way you begin to trail them along his jaw, sucking and biting until you’re seeing the beginnings of marks that will bloom there, “shame it didn’t work— cause you’re all mine, right gyu?”

Like clockwork, he nods; his face heats up and he feels a bit ashamed at how quickly he’s melted under your hold, but any embarrassment is washed away the moment he feels your hand begin to fumble with his belt, clumsily undoing it before you’re moving to undo his jeans. 

“Wait,” you breathe against his neck, feeling him shiver softly; he’s confused, whining softly at the sudden loss of touch until he’s watching as you pull away, glancing behind your shoulder before you’re meeting his eyes with a blank expression, “take me to your room.”

For a second, he’s confused about the sudden switch of your behavior— but then he’s looking over your shoulder and right at the direction you glanced at, a sudden laugh breaking through him when he spots Toto in the corner; sheepishly, he nods. 

“Okay,” he says, smiling shyly at the way you reach out for the hand placed on the small of your back, intertwining your fingers so naturally it’s almost instinct, “yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

He watches you kick off your shoes and allows you to lead him straight to his room— he’s surprised you even remembered where it is— and smiles at the way you tug him closer by the collar the moment you step inside, palms pressing flat on his chest and making him walk backwards until his knees are hitting the edge of the bed— he falls back, hair splaying prettily on his sheets as he looks up at you with expectant, adoring eyes. 

You’re straddling him immediately after; planting your core directly on his prominent bulge, taking in the way he lets out a broken whimper at the feeling of your heat pressing against him so well— his hands fly to your waist, fingers weakly digging into the meat of your hips as he attempts to subtly buck up into you; you tsk, shaking your head and leaning down to place a hand firm on his chest. 

“Bad pup,” you say softly, hovering above his lips and watching as he desperately chases them, “You need to be patient, okay?”

He nods frantically, eyes fluttering shut the moment you press your lips against him slowly, feeling the way he desperately seeks to taste you— you allow him to, wandering hands beginning to unbutton his pristine white shirt slowly as he remains distracted. 

Beomgyu is a lot more fit than you expected; lean muscle greeting you the moment you slip his shirt off his shoulders, leaning up to let him take it off and raking your nails down his skin— his stomach flinches at your nails scratch at it, and you smile childishly at the sight, the action reminiscent to the first time you got your hands on him. 

“So pretty…” you mumble to yourself, tracing a path along his chest, down to his navel, watching as he shivers at your touch; a shaky gasp escapes his lips, hands grabbing at his sheets and eyes fluttering shut as he fights back the urge to buck up into you again— your eyes flicker up to study his expression, titling your head curiously as a smile tugs at your lips. 

“You’re so pretty, Beomgyu,” you say again, leaning down to plant soft kisses along his neck, beginning to trail down until you’re at his chest— you’re able to watch the way his skin flushes a soft pink at your words, shy gaze averting quickly the moment you’re looking back up at him— and you laugh softly to yourself, hovering over his lap and trailing a hand down as you begin to undo his pants with ease. 

“Y’know, I’ve never seen you so dressed up before,” you comment offhandedly, taking a moment to observe his pristine clothes, his styled hair— and your jaw clenches at the thought of Yunjin seeing him like this, an inkling of jealousy beginning to rear its ugly head the longer you think about it; you’re tugging at his pants, watching as his hips lift to help you tug them down more, and scoff at your wandering thoughts. 

“Bet you would’ve loved to have her attention on you, hmm?” you say, beginning to roll your hips against his the moment he opens his mouth to protest— a sharp moan leaves Beomgyu instead, mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt grinding against his, the only thing separating the two of you being your thin panties and his boxers that are quickly becoming ruined; his eyes flicker down to where you continue to roll your hips, the sight of your skirt riding up and bunching up at your thighs enough to have his cock twitch. 

“Just can’t control yourself when you’re with a cute girl— just can’t say no,” Beomgyu’s hips jump and he lets out a long whine at a particularly harsh roll of your hips, feeling his cock slot perfectly against your cunt, the material of your panties soaked and sticking to your pussy, able to feel you better the more pressure you add; his hands fly to your hips once more, but instead of trying to guide your pace, they simply remain there, grabbing at your skirt and fisting the material in his hands, flushed face and shining eyes begging silently for more. 

“No— can’t, can’t say no— ah!” Beomgyu begins, unable to speak properly with the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of your warm cunt on his aching cock, “can’t say no to you… fuck…”

His words are enough to catch you off guard; your pace is stuttering and your eyes are widening, the brief pause enough to give Beomgyu enough confidence to continue— his eyes are glassy as he stares up at you, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles on your hips as he speaks. 

“Could never say no to you…” he says softly, face reddening as he continues, “you’re too pretty to say no to.”

He doesn’t quite meet your gaze after that; he’s too shy to, but with the way you immediately begin to undress before him after a moment, he’s sure that he must’ve flipped a switch inside you. 

“God, you’re so cute…” you mutter, throwing your shirt off in a random direction before you’re sliding your skirt off— and Beomgyu is growing flustered at the sight again, practically malfunctioning from seeing your body for the first time. 

You’re left in only your underwear when you finally decide you’ve had enough of his shyness, grabbing his face with a firm hand and turning it to look back at you; your nails dig into his plush cheeks and his eyes grow wide at the gesture, meeting your eyes as you simply give him a coy smile and a peck to his lips. 

“So pathetic too,” you continue, watching his adam’s apple bob at your condescending words, “I love it.” 

You lean close to his ear; slowly, you take his hands and begin guiding them along your body, feeling the way his breath hitches and his chest begins to take shallow breaths, shaky fingertips grazing against your skin, up your biceps until you’re leading him to your back, straight to your bra strap.

“Undo it,” you murmur against the shell of his ear, able to listen to the way he gulps softly; nervous hands fiddle with the clasp, the way you place chaste kisses to the spot behind his ear not helping in the slightest— and after a moment, you’re finally able to feel the garment loosening around you, along with a soft sigh the boy lets out. 

The straps slip off your shoulders slowly, and with a coy smile, you make a show of discarding your bra, sitting back and watching as Beomgyu’s face turns impossibly red; his eyes are wide and his hands are frozen, unsure of what to do as you simply huff at the sight— and your hands are taking his once more, guiding them slowly until he’s cupping your breasts; he gulps again, and you pout at the sight. 

“Don’t you wanna touch me?” you pout, tilting your head and watching as the man underneath you remains reliant on your instructions to do anything; his eyes snap back up to meet yours at your words, shaking his head softly and opening his mouth to stutter protests.

“I– I do, I do,” he says, licking his lips nervously before looking back down at your breasts, thumbs experimentally swiping across your nipples; you shiver at the feeling, the sight of even your smallest reactions making Beomgyu’s cock ache, “I just… I’m not sure what to do….what you’d like.” 

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, absentmindedly guiding his hands to touch and caress your breasts just how you like, your back aching slightly at the stimulation, “I can teach you.” 

“Please,” Beomgyu whines out, hands finally beginning to move on their own as a smile grows on your face, watching the way looks at you with needy, fucked out eyes, “Please, wanna make you feel good.” 

“Do you now?” you tease, titling your head and raising a brow at him questioningly; he nods his head fervently, eyes filled with an undeniably desire that leads him to take your body in hungrily, trailing from your chest down until he stops right at your cunt thats pressed so perfectly against him. 

His line of sight is terribly obvious— though you don’t think it was Beomgyu’s intention to hide his desires anyway, not with the way your back is suddenly colliding against his bed, a gasp escaping you the moment you feel warm hands prying your legs open; you’re propping yourself up with your elbows, wide eyes meeting Beomgyu’s; the said man kneels on the floor and is now at eye level with your soaked cunt— his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, and with a soft laugh, you realize that Beomgyu is yet again waiting for further instructions. 

“Can I taste you?” He asks meekly, eyes shining behind the lenses of his glasses, the sight endearing and a complete switch from the words that leave his mouth, “will you let me?”

Silence— all he gets in response is a slow sigh, the boy peeking through his lashes to get a gauge of your expression; he gulps at the sight of your narrowed eyes and pinched brows, mind undoubtedly thinking of scenarios that sour your mood— but the sight of you like this is much too tempting, and Beomgyu will be damned if he doesn’t get to lose himself in your pussy at least once; his cock pathetically twitches at the mere thought. 

“I don’t know puppy,” you murmur, sneering at the way he pouts immediately, strong hands tugging at you and pulling you towards him more, body sliding at the movement— and though you can feel him breathe against your clothed cunt, he still refrains from doing anything, waiting loyally for your okay with pleading eyes. 

“Do you think you deserve it?” you ask, throwing a leg over his shoulder, digging the heel of your foot in between his shoulder blades roughly— he practically keens at the feeling, a poorly stifled whimper escaping him, followed by a shaky sigh, “after seeing the way you’ll give anyone who approaches you all your attention like a slut, I don’t think you do.” 

You make sure to punctuate your words with another dig of your heel, but Beomgyu remains unaffected— if anything, it manages to spur him on more, and you’re left to pretend as though his next actions don’t leave you terribly weak. 

“Please…” he whispers, the sound so soft you barely miss it— he’s pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, lips lingering on the skin before he looks back up to meet your gaze; his eyes are glazed with nothing but need. The single word continues to leave him like a mantra, unable to do anything more than watch as he begins to litter kisses all over your inner thighs, soft begs slowly increasing their intensity the longer you deny him. 

I deserve it, I do; please, please let me make you feel good, promise you’re the only one for me— please? Please, please please please…

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of Beomgyu’s broken, repetitive begging— his hair brushes against your sensitive skin that has been peppered with endless kisses, and if it weren’t for the way Beomgyu’s eyes were beginning to become watery from his desperation, you would’ve allowed yourself to enjoy the show a little more. 

“You want it that much?” you seethe, a hand going down to tangle itself in his long hair— and, just as expected, he lets out a broken whine, followed with an immediate, breathy “yes” that affects you much more than you let on, “Go on then.” 

You’re guiding his head to your cunt without another word, fingers still entangled tightly in the roots of his hair; he begins with a soft kiss to your cunt, the sight making you roll your eyes— for someone so eager, he sure was hesitant. 

His tongue is hot and heavy against your clit; he’s running the tip of it along your slit, listening to the hitch of your breath and taking in every miniscule reaction you provide— he’s teasing you, albeit unintentionally, and the realization has you tightening your hold on his roots in warning; you feel the way he lets out a shaky breath at the action, and soon after, his fingers are tugging at the waistband of your panties, making slow work to properly take them off. 

Beomgyu’s every movement is feather-like and hesitant; it’s clear he’s testing out the waters, unsure of what to do in order to please you— and while a part of you is endeared at the messy kitten licks of his tongue and the way he circles your clit sloppily, the other part of you seems to be feeling much more unforgiving— you’re tugging his hair and telling him to look at you with a harsh voice. 

“What happened to wanting to please me? To deserving this?” you mock, lips quirking to a satisfied smile the moment his face heats up, ears tinting a soft red, “are you too much of a virgin to know how to eat a girl out?”

His face turns a bright red and he remains silent— you can only manage a bewildered laugh at the sight. 

Of course, how did you not piece it together before? It seems as though you were much too generous to give him the benefit of the doubt before, because as you stare Beomgyu down with a gaze that’s nothing short of predatory, you’ve realized that his silence tells you more than enough; He’s a total virgin. 

“Oh, you don’t know anything, do you?” you coo softly, letting go of Beomgyu’s scalp to caress his face softly, a grin threatening to break through your face from the simple sight of the man melting into your touch, “you need me to guide you through it?” 

With a shaky sigh, Beomgyu nods— it barely takes a moment before you’re pushing at the back of his head and guiding him back to your cunt. 

He didn’t bother to take off his glasses; you didn’t bother to remind him, smiling cruelly as you murmur soft instructions to him, telling him to suck on your clit or guiding his mouth to lick at your entrance, responding with soft sighs of pleasure whenever he does something particularly well; he’s sloppy, inexperienced, and undeniably nervous, but you suppose he makes up for its with his eagerness to do well as he continues, slowly taking note of what makes your hips buck and your fingers tighten against his hair— and after a few minutes, you’re no longer instructing Beomgyu step by step, but instead throwing your head back and letting your mouth fall open with unabashed moans. 

Beomgyu’s eagerness is abundant and blatant. He’s pressing his face against your cunt after having gained confidence, mouth sloppy and hanging open as he allows you to grind against him, feeling his glasses slip down the tall bridge of his nose and fog up with every pant of breath— but he finds that he doesn’t really mind, eyes fluttering shut and lips circling around your clit as he hones in to the sounds you make instead. 

You think Beomgyu’s head is completely empty at this point; his fingers dig into your thighs and he continues his attempts to bring you closer against his face, greedy mouth drinking up any arousal that slips from your entrance before he’s fucking you with his tongue— your hips buck unintentionally against him at that, and from the way he only increases his efforts even further, you think he might’ve enjoyed that. 

“Beomgyu— puppy, fuck,” you hiss, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the way his nose is now pressed against your clit from how close he’s attempting to get to you. Your chest heaves and you can feel a tight knot forming in your stomach, body beginning to become restless as Beomgyu remains unfazed at your sudden squirming— you’re close, so close, and Beomgyu wants nothing more than to feel you fall apart against his face. 

“Shit– right there, just like that— don’t stop, god, fuck—!” Your eyes are screwed shut as a sudden wave of pleasure breaks through you, your hand pulling at Beomgyu’s hair and your heel digging sharply into his back as you cum; the boy only lets out a pathetic whine at the feeling of you rolling your hips smoothly against his face, mouth left ajar and eyes fluttering shut as he lets you use him, riding it out with twitchy legs and soft moans. 

Beomgyu only moves after your grip slips from his head entirely; your whole body is falling slack, a deep sigh escaping you as you attempt to catch your breath, eyes bleary and slowly opening after a moment— you’re able to watch as the said boy goes to stand, a weak hand of yours stopping his motion and grabbing at his shoulder— and you’re guiding him to hover over you, smiling coyly at the wrecked sight of him. 

His glasses are completely skewed— a slight heat burns at your face from the sight, but it’s all washed away by the lopsided smile Beomgyu gives you, entirely unaware of his flushed and messy appearance; gently, you reach out to slip off his glasses, putting them off to the side as you reach to adjust his mused hair next— he merely watches your face with doe eyes as you brush his hair away gently, tucking it behind his ear before you cup his jaw, tugging him down to kiss you again.

“You’re sure you wanna do this?” you mumble against his lips, hands absentmindedly running along his skin soothingly, lips beginning to wander off as you trail soft pecks against his jawline, smiling at the way he doesn’t hesitate to nod, “you want it?”

“Need it,” Beomgyu whines, letting out a shaky breath as he grabs your hand, guiding it down his chest slowly, adding pressure once you’ve reached the bulge of his boxers— you can feel the way he twitches the moment you touch him, gulping softly before the continues to plead, “need it, need to feel you.” 

His voice is sweet and soft in your ears, and you find that you can’t really bring yourself to put up a front and resist; it’s physically impossible to, especially with the way he ruts his cock against your hand, leaking pathetically and twitching at even the slightest stimulation.

Beomgyu’s attempts to remain calm and collected falls apart the moment you relent, face red and eyes wide with anticipation the moment he feels your hand go to pull his cock out; he falters above you for a split second, teeth sinking into his lip to suppress a whine that builds up in his throat. But his attempts are futile as always, a broken whimper leaving him the moment you press the head of his cock against your cunt, tightening around the shaft and proceeding to run it along your slit teasingly. 

He’s practically panting above you, fingers gripping onto the sheets as he allows you to toy with him, eyes glassy and meeting yours as you simply coo mockingly at him, teasing him for being nothing but a toy for you to use.

The moment you press his tip against your entrance, the two of you tense; a shaky sigh escapes you at the stretch, looking up at Beomgyu and whispering for him to just put it in already; and he swallows, eyes watering at the feeling of him finally pushing into you— warm, wet walls that flutter around him, stretching and adjusting to his size; your hips that jolt with every inch he slides in, eyes widening and mouth falling open as you try to contain your composure— but his size is no joke, and curses leaves your mouth endlessly at the feeling of him filling you up.

“God— you’re so… so warm, so tight,” Beomgyu cries above you, hips stuttering and making him push himself deeper into you; a yelp escapes you at the feeling, hips pressed flushed against his as you stare up at him with wide eyes, cunt clenching at the anticipation of him fucking you. 

But he simply remains still, and you’re just about to complain for him to move when you catch sight of his expression, screwed up into concentration as he lets out a deep breath— probably trying not to cum, you muse to yourself— and he sits up, no longer hovering over you as his hands move to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles on the skin as he looks down where the two of you connect; he looks up at you, puppy eyes begging for one thing. 

“You— you can move,” you breathe out, cringing slightly at the weak sound of your voice, the way you trip over your words; Beomgyu nods, sighing shakily again before he finally begins to move, slowly pulling out until the only thing you feel is his tip catching at your entrance— then he thrusts back in, and you don’t bother to swallow down the moan that manifests from that. 

Beomgyu isn’t faring any better than you; his brows are knitted together and his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips, voice pitchy and whiny as he attempts to fuck you properly— but his thrusts are sloppy and rough, and it seems as though he’s too concentrated on the feeling of you around him to find a good pace. 

You’re opening your mouth to tease him about it, only to get cut off at the feeling of him bumping his cock against your sweet spot; a whine leaves you unexpectedly, the sound accompanied with the feeling of your legs attempting to wrap around his waist to pull him in enough to snap him out of his pussy drunk daze. He’s drinking up your expression, his pace slowing down enough to allow him to search for that spot again— it takes a few attempts, but once he catches onto it, he doesn’t relent. 

“Sh–shit, just like that,” you whine, his thrust becoming more calculated as he begins to take note of what makes you feel good once more— though it’s still slightly sloppy and uneven, his weak pants and pitchy whines enough to tell you that his mind is much too hazy to care.

Absentmindedly, your hand snakes down to circle at your clit in search of more stimulation— only to get it knocked away roughly by Beomgyu’s, eyes widening at the action until he’s replacing you hand with his— and though you wish you could make fun of him for being such a desperate bitch, the stimulation has your voice getting caught in your throat.  

“Does— does this feel good?” Beomgyu suddenly asks, puppy eyes watering and glazed as he picks up his pace, one hand gripping onto your waist while the other continues to rub your clit, “Am I– ah… am I doing good?”

You almost miss the last part with how softly he says it— but once you process his question, you let out a breathy laugh, biting at your lip in an attempt to suppress the smile that tugs at your face; you fail miserably, but all the patronizing look in your eyes does is make Beomgyu’s cock twitch inside you a bit. 

“Does my stupid puppy need something? Need my approval?” you ask, pouting at the way he hesitates to answer, “I won’t know unless you tell me, baby.” 

The pet names are enough to have Beomgyu short-circuiting again; his face feels hot and he lets out a petulant whine at the way you continue to tease, ignoring his pleading look as you reach up to cup his jaw, cooing his name so sweetly he’s unable to be ashamed at how easily he breaks. 

“Tell me I’m doing good,” he whines, and you simply smile at him, stuttered breaths and soft moans the only thing leaving your lips as you notice the increased sloppiness of his thrusts, his erratic voice and face that slowly nears yours, hovering over you as he speaks.

“I’m— ‘m good, right? Your…” he trails off, punctuating his next word with a harsh, deep thrust that has you yelping, “your good boy— tell me, tell me I’m good, just wanna hear you say it, ah, wanna be good for you.” 

He’s a babbling, whining mess, hiding his face in your neck immediately after the words escape him— and with a request so sweet, how could you ever deny him?

“So good for me,” you immediately respond, listening to the muffled whimpers as he buries his head deeper into your neck, wandering lips sucking and biting at the skin, “good little pup— fuck, are you close? Gonna fill me up?” 

You feel the way he nods frantically against you, his hand leaving your hip to circle under your back, pulling you flush against him as he continues his rough, haphazard thrusts— and you turn your head to face him, pressing a kiss to his head before you lean in close to his ear, the sounds of your breathy moans and sweet voice enough to bring him over the edge. 

“C’mon, cum for me puppy,” you coo, listening to the long whimper he lets out in response, hips stilling and pressing flush against yours as he follows your command, warm cum filling you up as he rides out his orgasm, cock rutting subtly into you all the while, “that’s it— such a good boy, so perfect to me.” 

His chest heaves against yours; his other arm comes up to sneak under your body as well, successfully hugging you close against him, bodies pressed together and practically one with how tightly he’s got you in his grip— his cock remains inside you all the while, head nuzzled deeply in the space of your neck as you merely let out an amused huff, giving him a moment to catch his breath before you tease him again. 

The moment of peace between the two of you is cut by the abrasive sound of his phone ringing, the two of you looking at the source with furrowed brows; neither of you make a move to get it, watching it continue to vibrate on the bed before it goes silent— you’re both falling back against the bed the moment in bliss the moment the ringtone disappears, and you can feel Beomgyu’s arms tightening around you even more, not expecting him to be so openly clingy—

“You didn’t cum,” Beomgyu suddenly gasps, head popping up from his hiding place as he hovers over you with wide eyes. You simply reassure him that it’s alright, already feeling your body get heavy with exhaustion— but he isn’t having it, shaking his head and standing back up as he looks at you with an unbelievably solemn expression, wincing softly as he pulls out of you, “No, I wanna make you cum— wanna feel you cum on my dick, wanna make you feel good.” 

The words sound clumsy coming from him, oddly shy to say what he wants out loud— and it makes you laugh, attempting to tell him that you really don’t mind when you’re getting interrupted by the annoying sound of his phone ringing. 

“Seriously, who the hell is…” you’re trailing off as you watch Beomgyu’s eyes widen, leaning over to snatch his phone as he reads the contact name, his horrified expression telling you all you need to know. 

“Don’t answer it,” you seethe, ignoring the way he stutters about how he totally forgot to cancel, feeling a hot anger bubble in your stomach as he talks about how bad he feels for not communicating properly, “Beomgyu, don’t answer it!” 

“I— what if she’s waiting outside right now—?!”

Your movements are much too sudden and swift for him to process; he can only watch and allow you to snatch the phone away from him, rough hands gripping his shoulders and hissing at him to fucking sit; he’s quick to comply, and you’re even quicker to climb onto his lap and situate yourself just how you like— he cries softly at the feeling of you grabbing at his sensitive cock, stroking it for a moment and aligning it with your entrance before you’re sinking down on him slowly. 

“Who cares if she’s outside right now,” you scowl, digging your fingers in his cheeks and forcing him to look at you, swollen lips red and pouty as he merely whines at the feeling of you rocking slowly against him, “it’s the least we could do to get back at her for trying to fucking use you.”

His protests die down once you pick up your pace; oh, his face practically screams, eyes glazing over at the feeling of your warm pussy using his sensitive cock to get yourself off, soft cries leaving him as he merely watches you begin to ride him expertly, already feeling himself get hard inside you, the sight of you on top of him and the sounds of skin against skin riling him much more than expected.

“Hnng, wait, slow down please—!” he whines softly, hands flying to your hips yet making no attempts to control the pace— and you can only laugh at him, the sounds of his soft cries enough to encourage you more. 

You’re close— so, so close, and all Beomgyu can do is sit and take it, tears of sensitivity pricking at his eyes and falling along his cheeks the moment he feels your walls clench against him— but he’d rather die than stop you, sp entranced with the sight of your face twisted with pleasure that his body screams at him to do what he can to make you feel good. 

Like instinct, your hand tangles itself in Beomgyu’s hair the moment he latches his lips against your nipple, back arching and the tight knot in your stomach falling apart the moment his wandering hand goes to play with your clit; the way your walls spasm and hug him tightly is enough to have Beomgyu cumming inside you again, a pathetic keen sounding from him as he buries his head in your chest, beyond sensitive with the way you continue to ride your orgasm long after.

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of your panting and Beomgyu’s soft whimpers— but it doesn’t last long, a tired groan escaping you at the sound of Beomgyu’s phone ringing again; without much of a thought, you reach for it and finally answer. 

“Leave him alone. He’s busy.” 

You hang up immediately after— the girl on the other side didn’t get the chance to utter a single word, and you find that you couldn’t care less as you toss his phone to the side and look over at Beomgyu— you’re smiling softly at the way he seems mortified at your action. 

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel bad,” you sigh, placing your hands on his chest and pushing, gently guiding the two of you to lay down— he remains inside you as he pulls you in close, your limbs heavy and tangling quickly as he mutters a soft no, I don’t; you smile. “Good. Cause I almost got mad again.”

He chuckles softly at that, falling quiet after; you look up at him to gauge his expression, finding that he’s lost in thought. After a few minutes, he meets your eyes meekly and finally speaks. 

“Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

A pause. You said a lot of things earlier— but as you retract on every little thing that's come from your mouth, you realize what he’s talking about— and you laugh, reaching to cup his cheeks fondly as you nod. 

“Of course I did,” you grin, pecking his lips, your heart fluttering wildly at the way he immediately chases after you for more after you pull away, “I meant all of it— and more.” 

Softly, he smiles. His arms that were wrapped around you pull you in close, closing the space between you and bringing you in for a slow, sweet kiss— he pulls away, leaning into your ear to whisper something with a coy smile. 

“So do you wanna play League of Legends later?”

You let out an annoyed yell and punch at his chest— you practically fuck his brains out, and this is all he can say?

“You’re such a fucking loser,” you mourn, hiding your face in your hands. 

Beomgyu laughs, and places a kiss on the top of your head. 

“But I’m your loser,” he says sweetly, nuzzling against your hair with a content sigh, “all yours.”

Under the covers of your hands, you smile. 

All yours. You like the sound of that. 

[myringtoe]

stairway to heaven 🪽 | lnds men

pairing: zayne x fem!reader, xavier x fem!reader, sylus x fem!reader, rafayel x fem!reader (separate)

cw: talk of spiritual beings and religion.

a/n: the basic premise of this one is that mc is an angel…like a biblical angel. i’ve had this idea for years so this is HIGHLY self indulgent. :3 i’d also love to expand on this if anyone would be interested in that. :)

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

just to preface this, this is kinda based on an oc of mine. but i’ve worded it so it’s still reader pov. :)

zayne 𓇢𓆸

legit didn’t believe you at first.

you’re gonna have to show him, full wings and everything for him to believe you.

so when you do show him, he’s astounded. zayne thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, while also being confused. he has so many questions.

one of the only times you’ll see this man speechless.

once you’ve explained how you came to live on earth, and how everything else works, he really doesn’t care about your supernatural-ness.

all he cares about is him getting to be with you, he doesn’t care what you are.

would be so worried about accidentally hurting your wings.

when you give him a feather from your wings that naturally fell off, he almost cries. it means so much to him. he puts it on his desk at work in its own little area.

whenever someone asks what it’s from, he lies and says it’s from a rare bird he saw while he was in another country.

xavier ☆

he LOVES it.

when you show him your angel form, he’s freaking out. (in a good way)

the minute you show your wings, he’s asking if you to take him flying some time. (if you say no, he gets pouty)

believes you’re the most stunning creature in the universe. will NOT stop complimenting you.

is so curious about your abilities as an angel.

then comes the questions about your origins and how you came to earth. when you answer, he’s completely fascinated.

genuinely thinks this is one of the coolest things to ever happen to him. his girlfriend is an ACTUAL ANGEL for christs sake! (see what i did there? ;))

is practically begging to touch your wings. he’s extra careful around the high points/bones of them. his touch is feather-light against them.

any time you’re in your angel form, he just stares at you in awe. he can’t believe that someone as divine as you, chose to be with him.

sylus 𖦹

another speechless one.

is terrified of “ruining” you. (as he puts it)

he thinks that because you’re angel, that he’s somehow going to ruin your angelic “innocence”.

to which you then have to explain to him that that’s literally never going to happen because that’s not how it works.

he felt like he didn’t deserved you before, now he feels like he REALLY doesn’t. this guy needs so much reassurance that he does deserve you.

(sorry if sylus is a little ooc)

after you’ve explained everything to him. he just wants to shower you with love. telling you how beautiful and amazing you are.

leads to a very lovely and very long night. ;)

he’s hyping himself up a little bit too, like ‘there’s an actual angel in my presence, and she wants ME.’

super protective of you after you tell him. he knows you’re fully capable of defending and protecting yourself, but he 1. doesn’t want others to find out and try to blackmail or take advantage of you, and 2. doesn’t want the people of the N109 zone to try and take the one good thing he has in his life.

let’s be honest, sylus has a cocky and confident attitude, which is admirable. but on the inside, he needs SO much reassurance. (which isn’t a bad thing)

rafayel 𓆝

this little shit.

he feels like he finally has someone he can relate to. with him being a sea god and all.

a mermaid and an angel…what a pair.

showing him your angel form was a mistake.

because now he wants to use you as a muse for every single painting.

literally one of the first things he asks is if he can use you for one of his paintings.

people would ask him who the person in the painting was, and with a totally serious face he would say:

“my angel girlfriend. :)”

and no one would actually believe that you were an angel, so it’s like a little inside joke between the two of you.

but seriously, he feels like he can trust you with his secret so much more, because he knows you’re hiding one too.

rafayel would of course ask the typical questions, to which you’d answer honestly.

he’s probably the most chill about it out of all of them. because he’s a “divine” being himself. while he may not have wings, he does have a fish tail and can breathe underwater.

he understands you the most out of the four.

[garbinge]

Earthquakes and Promotions

Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of bullets, war, shrapnel, earthquakes, injuries, blood, trauma, bruising. Light hurt/comfort. 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Ask and you shall receive! More Tim and F!Nurse Reader!!! Altho... I think she might be changing careers soon...lol Hope y’all enjoy! 

The Rookie Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics​ @simrah1012 

“Thanks for buying me lunch.” You looked up to Tim who was in his full patrol uniform. 

“Next time you’re coming down to the food trucks by the station.” Tim said as he rested his arms on his work belt. 

You let out a humorous breath and bumped your shoulder against him as you walked through the hospital halls. “I told you not to get a hot meal, you gotta stick with sandwiches or simple sides.” 

Tim’s gaze moved over to you and his eyebrows raised and a small smirk grew on his face. 

“But yea, next time I’ll come to the trucks. Things were just really busy in the ER today, lucky I was able to step away for 20 minutes.” 

“What types of things you seein’?” Tim’s voice turned from normal to on edge. 

“Just accidents, nothing LAPD needs to be worried about, I think I got one drug OD but no GSWs.” You explained knowing exactly what was happening in Tim’s mind. 

Before he could answer there was a whooshing noise followed by the ground beneath them shaking. You both stumbled trying to find your footing as the land beneath you shifted and shook. A few non stationary items shifted places, carts rolling fast and slammed into walls. One managed to roll right into your abdomen, moving too quick for you to move out of its way. These hospital carts were easily 500 lbs with the computers and equipment on them, and the speed at which it came crashing into you, they could cause some real damage. 

You yelled out in pain and pushed the cart against the wall behind you as Tim moved towards you and pushed you both into a doorway and on the ground. 

While you were in pain, your torso throbbing from the cart, you called out to everyone who was in your vision. 

“Everyone down!” 

Tim looked up and did the same, “Cover your heads!” 

His body hovered over yours, shielding you from anything falling above, his grip on your arms tight as you both ducked your heads in the doorway. 

Shelves were falling over, dust and debris fell from the ceiling and everything was shifted and out of place, and when the shaking had finally stopped, that’s when the crisis kicked in. Voices and cries for help came from just about everywhere in the hospital once the ground settled. There was chance of an aftershock, but that was the last thing on people’s minds right now. 

“You okay?” Tim said standing up and bringing you up with him, his grip still firm on your arms. 

“Yea, just a bruise, nothing I can’t handle.” You turned around and gripped his arms just as tight back. It felt like minutes but you knew it was just a few milliseconds. 

Tim was a first responder and you thrived in tactical medicine. While Tim knew you were hurt he also knew you wouldn’t consider it a priority in comparison to everything else, and you knew Tim wasn’t going to push you to get checked out right now, you were both going to put the job first. 

All those thoughts happened within seconds, in the next second, you both looked at each other and nodded knowing you both had a job to do. 

“I need to assess the ER, it’s going to be a madhouse.” You game planned with Tim. 

“I can help here but depending on volume I’ll probably have to hit the streets, looting, accidents, all that.” You and him were now moving towards the trauma center bay. 

You opened the doors and you clocked it, a mad house. Easily two dozen people, all injured and the staff were moving around assisting who they could. Taking in the scene you stood up on the check in desk and brought your fingers to your lips and a loud whistle echoed. 

“Fractures, broken bones, dislocations to the left please!” A group of people shifted over to the side. 

“What if you don’t know if it’s broken!” Someone called out. 

“If you have any pain in your arms and legs move to the left please!” You answered them quickly and moved on to the next group. 

“Lacerations, cuts, bruises right please!” Another group moved over quickly. 

That left you with a group in the middle, this was probably the group with the worst injury, too out of it to understand or move, or internal issues. 

“Marsha, attend to the left, prioritize based on pain scale and your discretion. Allen, take the right, prioritize head lacerations and deep cuts and anything NEAR an artery. David and Natalia, you’re helping me with the middle where pretty much everyone is a priority. Everyone else fill in where you can, stay alert, stay liquid.” 

You moved down from the table and planted a quick kiss on Tim’s lips. “Love you, go be a hero.” And before he could respond you were moving to the  middle section and getting people in beds and ordering tests and just honestly really succeeding in conditions that were set up for failure. 

________

The day was long, it was pretty much never ending. You lost track of time, you were probably well over your normal shift time but this was what they saved that overtime for. Not that it would have mattered or made a difference, you would have stayed regardless. The people of LA needed your help. 

It was probably 2AM when things slowed down. You had attended to all the walk-ins, all the EMT emergencies, all the intake patients who were hurt and needed to be brought into the ER, all the trauma patients and even all the hurt employees. Which meant it was your turn. 

You ached your way up onto the gurney, lifting your scrub top up to show the large bruise that expanded from your abdomen and a little on your lower chest. 

“It’s a minor crush injury, probably a bruised rib and pelvis.” Marsha, the nurse on your team who also stayed overnight spoke as she assessed your wound. “We should do a CT scan and MRI to be safe, it’ll be covered under the hospital since you were injured on the job.” She explained knowing you were about to come up with excuses. 

“Covered or not, order the tests.” Tim’s voice alerted both of you. 

“I’ll go put the order in.” Marsha excused herself with a smile and nod, leaving you and Tim in the ER. 

“It looks worse than it feels.” You pulled your scrubs down and moved off the gurney as Tim walked closer to you. 

“Tell me that when we’re home and you can’t sleep because the pain is keeping you up.” He brought you into a hug, his hand cupping your head and his other hand rubbing up and down your back. 

“This is new.” You pulled your head out of the hug and looked up at Tim, using your right hand and thumb to slightly move over his forehead where a cut was dried up and bruised.

“Got punched by someone.” 

You frowned, shocked that Tim had let someone catch him with his guard down. 

“Looters, one of ‘em put up a fight, not a big deal.” He shrugged and nodded for you to jump back up on the gurney. “C’mon, take a beat.” 

“Must’ve been a hell of a fight. Let me clean it?” You asked him, looking up to his face. 

“Tell me what to grab.” He nodded and moved to the cabinets next to the gurney. 

“First and third shelf. Butterfly bandage, gauze, and saline.” You ordered him.

“No alcohol?” He looked over his shoulder at you. 

“Can’t scar that pretty face.” You smirked. “We aren’t overseas at war anymore, I can treat you properly now.” 

Tim brought up a chair so he was sitting in front of you. “No more ziplock bags filled with bottled water to clean cuts?” 

“Or taking my shirt off to wrap around your injuries as a makeshift bandage.” You poured a couple drops of saline over his cut and took the gauze to catch the leftover. 

With his eyes closed, he spoke up. “Hey, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

You stayed silent, a small smile forming on your face but with Tim’s eyes closed he couldn’t tell. Which is why he opened the eye that wasn’t being treated to gauge your response.

“Easy, officer. Flirting with your RN can get you into some trouble.” You placed the butterfly bandage over his brow and leaned back when you were done. 

“And what about flirting with my wife?” He leaned back himself. 

“Different kind of trouble.” You teased him and he laughed. 

“You know, you handled this morning well. Gave good orders. Prioritized properly. Reminded me of when I met you.” Tim said as you waited for Marsha to come back. 

“When I yelled at you to stop standing there and get your hands dirty?” 

“And then took your shirt off to bandage my abdomen.” He teased. 

“And then yelled at you to stay with me.” You retorted back. 

“Yea, lot of yelling.” Tim nodded. 

“Hey, the bomb went off pretty close, most of it was noise-induced hearing loss.” 

“Technically that wasn’t the first time we met.” Tim stood up now and his head moved to indicate for you to move over a little so he could sit next to you. 

“We met at briefing.” You wrapped your arm around his and leaned your head on his shoulder. 

His head fell on yours, “Didn’t say anything to you but–” 

“You wouldn’t stop staring.” You chuckled. 

Tim laughed back, “No. I couldn’t.” 

There was a silence between you two for a while, your hand dancing around his as you waited. 

“I’ve been thinking.” Tim said, his head was still leaning on yours. “Maybe you should move back into tactical medicine.” 

“Like paramedics?” You frowned. 

“Yea or maybe a TEMS officer.” He shrugged, you felt it as your head lifted.

“Like SWAT?” You asked him, still confused. “I’m not LAPD, don’t think that’s possible.” 

“You have tactical training from being in the Marines, you’re a RN in the emergency and trauma department, and I could get Sergeant Grey to put in a word, two Sergeants recommendations plus your experience, and some training, you’d be golden.” Tim explained. 

“Two Sergeants?” You lifted your head up and turned to him. His smile grew and he looked down before looking back at you. “Apparently Grey was going to tell me this afternoon but everything happened so he told me on the way out. About 30 minutes ago.” 

Your jaw dropped and your grip on Tim’s hand tightened, a squeal left your mouth and you hugged him, despite the pain you were in. “So that means when I call you Sarge it’ll actually be true.” You beamed. 

“It will.” He nodded shyly, “It is.” His eyebrows raised and another shrug fell off his shoulders. 

“It’s well deserved.” You moved your hand up to his cheek. 

“I’m serious about you becoming a TEMS officer.” He looked into your eyes. But before you could respond Marsha’s voice caused both of you to turn towards her.

“We can take you to get the tests now, I rush ordered them, figured you’d want to get home sooner rather than later.” Masha said with a smile. 

You turned back to Tim, knowing this was a larger conversation to be had. 

“Go, I’ll be here waiting.” 

You got up from the gurney and stared at Marsha who had the wheelchair in her hands. 

“Hospital policy.” She knew exactly what you were thinking. 

With a sigh, your shoulders fell and you collapsed into the wheelchair and sunk into it fully relaxed with a smile and gave Tim a quick wink. 

 “I’ll see you soon, Sarge.”

[marvelous-slut]

Revenge - Happy Lowman

No lie, Better than Revenge by Taylor Swift was the inspiration for this! Lmao. Hope you all enjoy xx

Being the sister of Jax Teller had some advantages, you got to spend lots of time at the club house. Lots of time talking up the scariest member or the MC, Happy Lowman. There was something about him that you couldn’t shake feelings for, you didn’t know if it was that he was mysterious and quiet, or that he’d kill at the drop of a hat. It gave you a strange feeling in your stomach thinking about having him as yours, how you’d never have to worry about anyone coming for you because they’d have to pay the price with him.

Those thoughts all were nice while they lasted.

You walked into the clubhouse, it’s early in the morning and you decided to bring breakfast by. Jax always complimented your cooking and once Happy tried it he did too. “Makes me think of my mommas.” He would say. You see Jax sitting on the bar stool, cigarette in hand.

“Hey sister.” He says, reaching out his hands to grab the platter. He knows what you’re about to ask and he doesn’t want to tell you what he knows.

“Hey, you seen Happy?” You ask, feeling that funny feeling turning in your stomach. He sighs, deciding he should say nothing instead of lying or telling the truth. You look at him puzzled, until you see who comes down the hall. Ima. She’s wearing Happy’s gray reaper shirt, smiling as she knows what she’s done. She can see the hurt all over your face. You and Ima haven’t gotten along since you told her she was a skank and to leave Jax and Tara alone. This was her way of giving you some pay back. She would come to the club with Lyla, seeing how you swooned over Happy. How the light shined in your eyes when you talked to him.

“Good morning!” She says, cheerful to see the pain she’s caused. Jax shakes his head and puts out his cigarette.

“Go get your shit and get the fuck out.” He says to her, you can’t stay here any longer. You dart out the door, ready to be home. Once you get to your car, you ponder for a moment. No, she will not get the best of you. If you knew how to do anything, it was how to get the last world. The last laugh. You grin, thinking of the perfect way to give her some pay back.

It is a bright and sunny day in Charming, a perfect day really. You head down to Luanns porn studio to extract your revenge on Ima. The brownies in your hands are still fresh, topped with a bow and a card you had Jax write out. It reads “for someone special.” No name mentioned, but you knew Ima would get a kick thinking a man had took time to bake for her. Really, you had done the baking, cracking eggs and measuring flour perfectly. Cutting up the chocolate laxatives so fine you would never be able to tell they were a special add in. You sit the brownies in-front of her door and knock, running off. It’s about an hour before she’s due to shoot, you know she’s going to eat one because as you’ve seen at the clubhouse she can’t resist chocolate sweets. Just like she couldn’t resist a man in a kutte, or a man who had an old lady. She’d be drawn to them like flies to shit.

The shoot begins, it’s your average porno shoot. Guy and girl, nothing special. Before Ima can move, you see the look on her face. You know the laxatives have hit her stomach, making it rumble. Before she can go anywhere, brown liquid run down her leg and so do the tears from her eyes. You smile, watching the chaos unfold. “Ew!” Her partner for todays shoot yells out, running away from the havoc her bowels have let out. She shouldn’t have fucked with your brother and his family, but she definitely shouldn’t have fucked with what was yours. Well, what you were trying to make yours. She’s screaming as she runs back to her room, hopefully she’ll be on the shitter for hours.

“My my, my sister is an evil genius.” You smile at Jax, patting him on the shoulder.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Jackson!” You smirk as you speak, smiling softly. He lets you read a message from Tara.

“So proud of her. Getting some revenge for the both of us.” It reads. You smile, you were glad to give Ima a small form of payback. Gemma and Tara shooting up her car obviously didn’t send the message to her, and maybe this wouldn’t either but you felt better. You feel your stomach sink as you see Happy approach you. You want to run away, but you stand as still as a statue. He walks over to you, standing in-front of you, unsure if he was angry or somewhat amused.

“That you?” He asks, word travels fast at the club house. Especially when Tig sees some drama unfold. You assumed he had let Happy know about your tears and running out when you saw Ima in Happys shirt.

“Guess she has a bad stomach.” You say, he smirks, putting his arm around you.

“You know, all you had to do was say you wanted to be my old lady.” You perk up, looking at him with a smile plastered all over your face. “I don’t show emotions good, don’t read them well either.” After Tig informed Happy of the morning incident, he knew why you were so upset. It had to be because you had feelings for him that you hadn’t expressed. “Come on girl, let’s go back to the club house, smells like shit in here.” You giggle, walking along side of him with his arm reach over your shoulder.

“Oh God! Come on people, it’s a bodily function!” Luann yells out, trying to get her actors and actress under control.

“Yeah, but my bodily function ain’t ever come out like that!” Bobby shouts out as the MC chuckles behind him.

Revenge. It’s a sweet, sweet thing.

[intotheficsofit]

MDNI💀 +18 Only

-✨—✨—✨—✨—✨—✨—✨—✨—✨-

My Roommates Brother

Alright everyone be nice it’s my first fic.

We gotta classic trope today, the MC & Todo have an apartment together. Todo-Choso-Yuji all brothers vibe modern au style. Todo & MC were classmates/sparing buddies when they both ended up needing a place around the same time, they are platonic and goofy/very bro/sis vibe but the MC finally meets Choso and is smittttten.

Use of she/her pronouns as well as more feminine styled pet names, obvi this is a Reader X Choso smutty mess of a fic! Advanced apologies for any typos, I hope you find some enjoyment out of this piece💗

Oh and minors GTFO!! This ain’t for y’all 👏🏼

-✨-✨-✨-✨-✨-✨-✨-✨-✨-

The hot water soothed my aching muscles after an intense training sesh with Todo. I bopped around slightly to the beat of the ‘This is CORPSE’ spotify mix as I sudsed my sweat away. I thought I heard Todo’s voice from outside the door, I pulled back the shower curtain to pop my head out and keep my body shielded by the dark colored material.

“DO YOU NEED SOMETHING?”

More mumbles, the running shower and my loud music muffling whatever he was trying to tell me. I’m not particularly worried about Todo seeing me like this, he’s very open with his own body and we usually didn’t mind walking around in our undies around one another. It wasn’t a sexual thing, he’s not my type and I’m not his - to which looks suspicious to some people considering we live together but that’s not any of our concern.

“OPEN THE DOOR I CANT HEAR YOU DUMMY.”

A click and turn and Todo swung the door wide open, someone was behind him that I only recognized from photos.

“JESUS NOT ALL THE WAY?! WHAT DO YOU WANT??”

His eyes widened as he closed it only enough to have his head in the room. I saw his brother behind him hide his face before the door cut off his sight of me in the shower.

“My brother came to visit! We’re going to pick up dinner what would you like!”

I laughed and shook my head.

“That’s what you were trying to scream through the door about? God Todo, just get me whatever you get. Thanks bud.”

“OF COURSE! Enjoy your shower!”

He closed the door and I couldn’t help but laugh to myself, he was a big sweet dummy. I did love him like family, even if he wasn’t the brightest at times. My mind wandered to the blushing and hidden face that stood behind him…Todo had shown me many photos of both his brothers and Choso was super cute…he told me about how he’s kinda kept to himself and that they really only see one another when Yuji insists on it. Both of them were wrapped around the sweet pink haired boys finger, and I can’t blame them. Yuji was a good boy and always smiling, if anyone disliked him I’d be surprised.

I might have searched up Choso’s socials a bit after Todo and I moved in together…he was hanging up photos in his room and needed my help…I made sure to ask all the important questions. Choso was a drummer who smoked a fuck ton of weed and liked to watch anime, so in other words my perfect match. He wore dark red or purple eyeshadow a lot and liked to paint his nails…the Gerard Way type as I like to call it. I wasn’t too embarrassed about him seeing me after taking note of his reaction…it’d be nice to finally get to know him over dinner…test the waters a bit.

———

After getting out of the shower I half blow dried my curls so they looked somewhat neater than usual. Donning a little bit of mascara and smudging out my leftover liner, I threw on a white cropped tank top (that slightly showed my nipples and their piercings) and a pair of black leggings. I made my way down the hall towards Todo’s booming voice and the shuffling of bags.

“So what’s for dinner boys?”

I said as I toked on a blunt and approached them, a trail of smoke lining my previous path. I smiled sweetly at the two, Choso’s eyes widened and he grinned slightly as his cheeks turned pink. Todo of course gave me an ear to ear grin before explaining what he had ordered for us. I hovered over the counter and inhaled the delicious smells, humming in satisfaction. I took another hit from the blunt then held it out to Choso.

“Appetizer?”

He chuckled and took it from my fingers, after inhaling sexily through his mouth then nose he passed it back to me.

“Thanks..{Y/N} right?”

“That’s me.”

I winked at him as I inhaled deeply then passed it to Todo.

“You’re Choso right? It’s about time I met your other brother Todo.”

I playfully slapped at Todo’s arm, that was easily bigger than my head. He chuckled and passed the blunt across the counter to Choso before shoving me jokingly and making me stumble.

“You already kicked my ass earlier was that not enough you big oaf?”

A roar of a laughter erupted from Todo’s chest, he hooked his massive arm around my neck and pulled me to him lovingly like he would’ve Yuji. I clawed at his forearm, he was slightly choking me out.

“You’ve come so far in our spares, but you’ll never beat me little sis!”

I gagged slightly as I laughed.

“Out of everyone here I don’t want you to be the one choking me, let go!”

I jabbed my elbow into his toned gut as I struggled for freedom, not noticing how Choso reacted to my comment. He continued to laugh heartily and tussle my hair roughly before releasing me from his grasp. It wasn’t til then that we realized Choso choking on the weed smoke and poorly attempting to hide it.

“Are you okay baby brother?”

“D-Don’t…*cough cough*…don’t call me..*cough*..that I’m older…*cough cough*”

I grabbed a bottle of water from our fridge and came to Choso’s side to swap it out with the blunt. As he raised his head to drink the water he glanced at my concerned expression, his face was bright red from coughing so hard and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“You gonna make it?”

I chuckled and rubbed his shoulder gently. He choked on the water…

“Goodness brother!”

Todo ran up behind him, I saw the fear ignite in Choso’s eyes as he knew what was coming next.

“Todo maybe don’t-“

My concerns were voiced too late, Todo smacked him on the back a couple times trying to help. Choso coughed a few more times but surprisingly, it did help him stop choking.

“God you brute..”

Choso mumbled as he regained his breath. I couldn’t help but giggle, covering my face in the process as he glared at Todo. The blunt was out and our food was getting cold at this point so we all convened in the living room to chow down. I snagged the remote before Todo could, we always argued on what to watch so the rule was whoever touched the remote first got dibs. Naturally, I turned on one of my comfort shows -One Punch Man- to which Todo groaned once I hit play on the first episode of season one.

“You told me you liked this one why are you moaning and groaning?”

“It’s always a different cartoon.”

“It’s anime.”

Choso and I barked at him in unison, to which we looked to one another and grinned as we found a common interest. (That I definitely didn’t already know about psssh)

“What’s this one about again?”

I proceeded to stuff my face and overdump the lore of the series, complaining about how more isn’t animated because the manga is so wonderfully complex. Todo then compared himself to that of Saitama with godlike strength, I didn’t deny him only to get him to continue to the next episode to see what would happen next. Choso ate quietly and watched us converse, I would glance to him now and then with a ‘you know what I’m trying to say’ or ‘you understand this more I’m sure’. He would smile and nod as he took careful bites, slowly clearing his plate. After a handful of episodes our bellies were full, Todo collected our trash and took it out, leaving Choso and I alone.

“Wanna smoke? I don’t know what he’s told you, but I smoke a lot so if it bothers you I can go to my room.”

“Oh no it’s fine, I do too..”

His voice was deep, slightly raspy. It made me feel the butterflies fighting in my stomach as he spoke. I smiled, standing from the couch I watched the way his eyes trailed down my body.

“Cool, I’ll go roll up real quick then. Obviously make yourself at home, you know where the bathroom is already.”

I giggled as I spoke to him, turning on my heels to head to my room and retrieve the smokeables. I heard Todo reenter our home and have a much more quiet conversation with his brother. I tried to peer down the hall to hear them but was unsuccessful. I threw on a cropped sweatshirt jacket and lit the blunt between my lips. As I tip toed down the hall, still trying to listen to their hushed conversation, the floorboards played against me as I neared the entrance of the room. The creaking made the two men dart their attention backwards towards me, I strolled in casually and tossed a blunt in front of Choso and a joint in front of Todo.

“Talking shit about me while I’m rolling up for you two?”

Choso nervously shook his head no while Todo laughed.

“Yes little sis, I was telling him how much you stink after training.”

“Oh I won’t deny that, but it’s still not as bad as when you get back from sparing with Yuji.”

I chuckled back at him as I tossed him a lighter. I nodded to the back door, that lead to our small balcony patio, while toking heavily. Todo nodded and rose from his seat, motioning his brother to follow us. The back door would stick shut now and then from one time when Todo ran into it and fucked up the frame, so I always had to have him open it, I was not strong enough.

Upon Todo yanking the door open, his arm swung backwards aggressively and caused me to stumble…directly into Choso. His arms wrapped around my waist and torso as I fell, his fingers accidentally brushing over my chest. For a split second I felt a tinge of fire inside me.

“Shit..are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry for almost taking you out with me.”

“It wasn’t your fault, dumbass doesn’t know his own strength.”

We chuckled as I stumbled to my feet, Choso grabbed the dropped blunt and held it out to me with a smile. Todo hadn’t even realized what he’d done, proceeding to walk out onto our balcony and take a seat in his chair.

“You have got to be more aware of your surroundings dude.”

I spoke as I walked out and leaned against the railing to face him. He was puffing away on his tiny joint and already had some J-pop video pulled up on his phone. I scoffed and shook my head, turning to face the city and toke. Shit it went out. I went to turn around but Choso’s shoulder met mine as I spoke.

“Who has the-“

He was already holding the lighter out and wearing a beautiful smile.

“Oh, thanks ChoCho.”

“ChoCho?”

He giggled as he inhaled on his blunt, leaning over the railing beside me.

“I don’t know it just came out, that okay?”

“Yeah, thats fine. Sounds like something Yuji would say.”

He shook his head as his grin widened, I tried not to stare too long but he was very…pretty up close like this.

“He’s a sweetie, I love that kid.”

“You’ve met him?”

“He comes over a couple times a week, I school him in smash bros every time.”

He covered that gorgeous smile, laughing and turning over his shoulder to Todo before looking at me. His big brown eyes were shining with flecks of gold in the sunsets glow.

“Thanks for taking care of them..it’s not an easy task.”

“I think they’re good for me,”

I sighed, feeling the haziness settling in my eyes from the weed…maybe also from staring at the pretty emo boy.

“They remind me to not take shit so seriously all the time.”

We stared for a little too long in a sweet silence, I couldn’t help but take in all his features…I found my gaze darting to his lips and back to his eyes. He grinned, doing the same in response. Should I be doing this? That definitely ran through my head for a moment, but once he bit down on his bottom lip and looked out over the city again I felt myself pooling.

I reconnected my gaze to the horizon and puffed some more, my mind wandered to darker places..

“So what’s your favorite anime?”

“That’s a loaded question.”

I giggled, nodding in agreement.

“I’ve got time if you do.”

Spoken softly with a high smile, I peered to him from the corner of my eye. The blunt hung from his lips as he grinned, flashing me a similar look. We ended up getting into deep conversation about all our favorites and why they’re good in their own ways, all of which Todo was annoyed at. Mainly because he wanted us to play video games but we simply weren’t done discussing.

The sun had set, the chill of the night air began to nip at my skin sharply. I wasn’t sure when Todo had gone inside, but apparently we had been talking for a while. Thank god he left the door cracked at least, we trailed inside to escape the cold and to no surprise at all, Todo was passed out on the couch with some girly music mix playing semi-loudly on the tv. He could never hold his smoke, which is why I would usually give him a joint or a bowl instead of blunt or a dab. He must’ve been extra exhausted today.

We giggled at the sight, I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick picture, motioning a finger to my lips and a ‘shhh’ to Choso. He covered his mouth to muffle his laughter, I nodded my head for him to follow me down the hall. I led him to my room and closed the door behind us, finally letting out an audible laugh as I tossed my jacket onto my desk chair.

“I didn’t think he even smoked, I was surprised to see him with his own.”

“That is why he doesn’t often, he always passes out. I give him small stuff or a hit or two now and then when he’s in the mood for it.”

“Funny, that’s the first time I’ve ever smoked with him.”

“Have you not smoked with Yuji?”

“Yuji smokes?!”

“Oops.”

I covered my mouth as I stood with wide eyes.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you that I guess.”

“I don’t care that he smokes, but I thought he’d at least come to me for it.”

“He brings his own over here and asks me to roll for him.”

“That little shit is stealing my weed.”

I erupted in laughter upon his realization, he shook his head and chuckled. I plopped down on my bed, the plush purple comforter poofing up slightly around me. I pat the spot next to be before reaching for the rolling tray and mason jar of weed on my nightstand. He gently took the seat beside me, our thighs a few inches apart, I got a whiff of his cologne when the blanket poofed around him. He smelled so fucking good…

He watched me quickly roll four more blunts and pass him one, dusting off my hands and putting the supplies back in their spot. He looked to me with a shocked expression.

“What?”

“You’re really good at that.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time a man’s told me that.”

I chuckled as I lit my blunt and passed him the lighter, once the smoke cleared I noticed the pink staining his cheeks.

“Should I be worried about your boyfriend walking in or something?”

He held the flame up, the warm glow illuminating his chiseled features.

“If I had one maybe. Kinda impossible when they find out I live with that muscle head.”

“Why’s that?”

“No one believes we aren’t fucking. Been that way since school.”

“And…you two haven’t?..ever?”

“God no, did he say otherwise?”

He shook his head profusely, worried he’d made an accusation that could get Todo in trouble.

“No, no. He told me you were pretty kept to yourself aside from training with him.”

“He say anything else?”

I leaned closer, peering into his doe eyes to question him further. He sucked in the smoke sharply as his eyes bounced from my chest to my face.

“Um, not that comes to my head..nothing bad..”

He stuttered as I studied him, my lashes fluttering at him innocently.

“What did you ask him about me?”

I grinned, reading him like an open book. His face turned red as he inhaled, coughing slightly as he released the smoke cloud.

“Just, who you are..stuff you like..”

“But you did ask him about me?”

I giggled, he looked nervous.

“Yeah..that okay?”

“Only if it’s okay that I asked about you too, a long time ago though.”

His anxiety eased and expression softened back into a half smile. He nodded his yes as he toked.

“How long ago?”

“When we moved in, I saw a few pictures of the three of you and I don’t know…you piqued my interest.”

“Any reason why?”

Fuck, alright. If living with Todo has given me anything it was confidence so let’s see where this goes, be smooth. I inhaled slowly before putting out the blunt. Leaning back against my headboard, I stretched my legs over Choso’s lap. As I exhaled I grinned and tapped my chin in thought.

“Hmmmm….dark hair, bedroom eyes, nice chains..I’m a sucker for a musician. Really if you just looked in the mirror it explains my type pretty well.”

He was looking down as his hand on my knee and smiling, smoke trailing from his lips. I swayed my knee side to side to pull his attention to my gaze.

“What about you?…What’s your type?”

His eyes connected with mine, he smiled and leaned over my body to put his blunt in the ashtray on the nightstand. His body hovering over mine he brought his face an inch away from my lips.

“Seems like you already know..”

His voice was low and hushed, my heart was racing.

“Can I be honest?”

I barely spoke above a whisper, his eyes trailed slowly along my features as he nodded.

“I want you.”

“Good.”

He cut off his own hushed tone by pressing his lips to mine sensually. He bit at my bottom lip lightly as his tongue found its way to my own, the fire inside me building rapidly. I pulled at his shirt, trying to bring him closer. He took the hint and placed himself between my legs, pushing them to the side with his knee as he leaned into me. He was muscular, but not overdone like his brother. A strong arm hooked under my waist brought my hips to his, his other hand quickly latched onto my throat as we feverishly nipped and kissed at one another. As he squeezed his fingers around my throat and the cold metal of his rings stung my flesh, a small moan escaped my lips.

He released my lips and chuckled, the pieces of his hair not tied back framing his face seductively.

“So you weren’t kidding about that?”

He squeezed tighter and watched my eyes roll back and my mouth fall open, he hooked a finger in my mouth and pulled my gaze to his, still tightly gripping my jaw and chin; his hands were massive. I whimpered at his dominant motions, his eyes piercing into my darkest desires.

“You think we’ll get in trouble for this?”

His husky tone paced with heavy breaths make me desperate for everything he was willing to give me.

“S’worth it if we do.”

He smiled devilishly and plunged his finger further into my mouth, I obediently sucked and swirled my tongue around it as he pulled it out slowly. He groaned at my actions, I felt him begin to rut against me as he kissed and nipped along my neck and down my chest. He made heavenly sounds in between light licks that trailed to my breasts. He lightly tugged at the already low neckline of my shirt, he watched my plush chest spring from the tight top, admiring the jewelry that adorned pretty pink buds. His tongue teased at them as his fingers pinched lightly at my flesh, I tangled my fingers into his hair and pulled him closer, attempting to hush my moans.

“..so pretty baby…”

His low and seductive voice hummed against my skin, sending cold chills through my body. His hands and lips continued to travel further down, he reached the waistband of my leggings and bit down on my hip, sucking and licking in a feverish attempt to leave a mark. He leaned back to review his work, satisfied and smirking at the purple mark he’d left behind. He chuckled and kissed it once more, mumbling under his breath.

“..mine now..”

He peered up to me as he hooked his fingers into my waistband, I lifted my hips for him to shimmy them down, leaving me in a pair of purple silk panties. I leaned up to grab at his shirt and yank it over his broad shoulders, feeling a little too exposed and alone. I took my top off the rest of the way after and pulled his face to mine once more, kissing him in a heated need. I pushed him backwards and fumbled with his belt, our hands both rushed to remove his pants as I realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear. His thick cock slapped up against his toned abdomen, the noise caught my attention as I pulled away from his lips. My eyes grew wide, I felt my face run hot and the pool between my legs increase. He chuckled and flipped his hair away from his face.

“Fuck…”

“You still want to?..I can eat you out if it’s too much…”

I connected my gaze with his, concern lacing his expression. I couldn’t help but smile bashfully and crawl into his lap, attacking his neck with sloppy kisses and bites.

“I need you Choso..”

I whispered as I nipped at his earlobe and rolled my hips against him. He groaned as his hands met my ass, squeezing and pushing me into him more, feeling the wetness that had already soaked my silk panties. His head rested in the crook of my neck as his voice vibrated against my skin.

“..fuck baby…mmm..need you so fucking bad…been teasing me since I got here..”

I giggled as his words, leaning back to peer down at him in all his glory.

“I knew you liked it..”

I rolled my hips against his pulsating member, precum soaking into the fabric of my panties. He groaned and bit his lip, eyeing me up and down as his hands roamed my body.

“Course I did..you’re fucking hot..can’t believe he gets to be the one to see you all the time…”

“Come visit more..”

Oh god, was I even sure what I meant by that? I definitely just confirmed that this wouldn’t be a one time thing..

“Yeah?..might have to..”

His lips attached to my chest again, fingers trailing down between us to my sopping core. I whimpered as he dipped below the thin fabric and plunged two fingers inside me, twirling them around my fluttering walls. I bit down on my lip and furrowed my brows, trying not to make much noise but he worked small moans and whines out of me rapidly.

“..so wet for me already…fuck…such a good girl f’me..”

“..Choso-O-o…ahh…please…”

“..please what baby?..”

I could hear the smirk in his voice as he fueled the fire in my core.

“..please fuck me..god I need you inside me…please…”

“..cum for me first pretty..wanna see you come undone…”

His thumb rubbed against my clit, shooting waves of pleasure through my veins. I rutted into his hand and whimpered as he bit down on my chest, his other hand attached to my throat and squeezed tightly. I clenched around his fingers as he pumped in and out of me, I couldn’t keep ahold of the knot inside me any longer. My eyes rolled back as my hips shook, I squirted into his lap and hand as his motions kept pace to ride me through my high.

“..god yes baby…that’s it keep going..fuck that’s hot..”

I began to whimper and whine at the overstimulation, he milked my juices from me aggressively causing another orgasm to take over my senses.

“..shit I need to be inside you..”

He tossed me backwards onto the mattress, propping one of my legs up on his shoulder and aligning himself at my entrance. He held my other thigh out, displaying my soaking cunt for his view. He licked his lips and rubbed his long, thick cock up and down my dripping folds collecting my wetness. He slapped my clit with the tip of his member, I squirmed and squeaked in pleasure to his delight.

“You ready pretty baby?”

God he sounded so fucking sexy, his voice raspy and lust drunk.

“Yes..please Choso..”

He smirked and began pushing himself into me, steadying himself with a hand gripping my thigh. I felt him stretching me, the pain mixing with pleasure made my eyes gloss over. I gasped and tried to grip at the sheets at the overwhelming sensation. He pressed a hand to my lower stomach, feeling himself bottom out inside of me as I panted and whimpered. He held himself there, throwing his head back and letting me engulf his throbbing member.

“..fuck you’re so tight…”

He slowly began moving, pushing in and out slowly as I clenched around him. Moans spilled from my mouth as his pace increased. He rhythmically thrusted into me, hair falling into his face as his mouth hung agape panting for air. Whimpers and low moans began to drip from his kiss swollen lips as he mumbled dirty praises.

“..oh my god baby…feels so fucking good..mmm…taking me so well..nnggh..”

“..cho-ooss-ssoo…mmmmm…”

I stuttered through his thrusts, his pace increasing rapidly as he chased his high.

“..you’re so fucking pretty…letting me stretch you out like this…mmmm…such a perfect little pussy..”

I have never been fucked like this..he was so vocal and showering me in filthy praise..all while pounding into my sweet spot so perfectly…everything about him was making me writhe in pleasure.

A hand attached to my throat while the other bruised perfect fingertips into my thigh, he was filling me up relentlessly. His grip was much rougher this time, the metal of his rings scraping against my skin as he choked me harder, I felt myself clenching around him tightly; my end nearing.

“..you love that don’t you baby?…I can feel how close you’re getting for me..”

“…s-so b-big..unngg…ch-chos…yes…yes…”

“..awe you’re taking me s’good pretty baby..c’mon you can handle a little more..we’re just getting started..”

He pumped into me furiously, my senses were fucked as my eyes rolled into the back of my head and I screamed in pleasure. His large hand quickly covered my mouth, he leaned down, my thigh now squished against my chest giving him a deeper angle as his pace slowed.

“..shhh..don’t wanna get us caught do you baby?…want me to fill you up right?”

I nodded profusely, he removed his hand and gripped my jaw tightly, an evil smile plastered across his face. Holy fuck he’s so hot…

“..I’ll make you scream my name next time I promise…bite..”

He placed his thumb in my mouth as he spoke, I gazed at him with a fucked out expression and did as he said. He had me in the palm of his hand, melted and ready to bend to his will. His paced steadily increased at the new angle, I wasn’t able to form words as my body quaked beneath him, another orgasm gushing from me. His darkness took over as he relentlessly pounded into me, my legs shook as I bit down harshly on his thumb, we were being drenched and I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. His own whimpers and moans became louder and strained as he spoke.

“…oh fuck…yeah baby just like that…ugnnh…fuck fuck…s’fucking wet…all f’me…hmmm…”

His arms wrapped around me, his chains dragging and bouncing across my chest as he rutted into me, face buried in my neck peppering sloppy kisses and rough bites.

“..pretty girl…mmm….gonna make you mine baby…”

I clenched around him, my legs going numb at the overstimulation.

“…fuck that feels so good…cum on my cock again baby girl…mmmm…make a mess for me…”

He pulled my hands up, pinning them to the pillows with one hand while the other trailed between us and rubbed skilled circles on my clit. I gasped and whimpered at his touch, my body shaking again. I could feel him throbbing inside of me as his thrusts became rushed and sloppy, I clenched around his pulsating cock, cumming for the fourth time.

“..mmmmm that’s my girl…”

He moaned as his brows furrowed and his breaths became sharp, soft whimpers escaping his lips.

“..Ch-chosoo…feels s’good..ah!..”

“..oh god baby I��m..fuck fuck….ohhhh!”

His steady pace became staggered as he pumped thick hot ropes along my walls, he whined and moaned as his hips twitched against me riding out his high. He slowed and collapsed on top of me, both of us sweaty and covered in cum. His strong arms wrapped around my petite form and held me tight as his placed gentle kisses along my chest trying to catch his breath.

“So…can I visit again soon..”

I giggled at his innocent mumblings, sounding much softer and bashful compared to a few moments ago. He peered up to meet my gaze questioningly.

“I wouldn’t mind, how long you give it before he finds out?”

“Surely a while, he’s not that smart. Long as you stay quiet.”

I pulled his grin to mine, tangling our lips together once more softly. He hummed into the kiss, his hand coming to cup my cheek and deepen the sensual moment.

“You make it hard to stay quiet.”

He chuckled and thrusted into me once more, causing me to moan, before pulling out of me completely. We both gasped and whined at the lack of sensation, taking careful breaths to regain our senses.

He rose to his knees, placing my thighs on either side of him as he began massaging my tender muscles and taking full view of the mess he’d made of me. He smirked and bit at his bottom lip.

“You’re so beautiful baby…”

I blushed at his sweet actions and gentle tone, he had flipped a switch quickly and the butterflies swarmed once more within me.

Once we were cleaned up, (as much as we could without a shower) we clothed ourselves and ripped the soaked comforter off my bed to toss in the wash later. He leaned back on the bed, I lit a blunt and crawled on top of him, placing it between his lips. He lifted the bottom of my baggy t shirt and toyed lazily with the waistband of my fresh panties as he inhaled and stared back at me.

“What are you thinking about?”

He slightly furrowed his brows at my love struck expression as he passed the blunt back to me.

“How pretty you are..how big your cock is…”

I giggled and toked away, thick clouds rising from my lips. He smiled and lightly smacked my ass.

“S’all yours babygirl, whenever you want me.”

“Whenever I want?”

“Anything for my pretty girl, whenever she wants.”

I put the blunt between his lips and peppered kisses down his neck, we both would have some marks to cover up this week..

“I like the way that sounds…”

“Good.”

———

We smoked the other two blunts and talked before realizing how late it had gotten…I offered for him to stay and sneak out to the couch, forgetting that Todo had fallen asleep there. Around 5am when our eyes got heavy, we exchanged a few last kisses and sweet words before tiptoeing out to the living room. As we came out the hallway entrance, the goddamned floorboards creaked again. A dim light was on in the kitchen, barely illuminating the towering form we both knew well. *flick* The overhead light came on, our heads snapped to the side in unison…caught. Todo was in his workout gear stirring a cup of tea and staring at us, an eyebrow raised and smirk growing. I sighed and dropped my shoulders, covering my face in embarrassment and bracing myself. Todo chuckled lightly before sipping his tea, letting us be tortured by this awkward silence for a few more moments..

“Go to bed. We have training in a few hours.”

I looked to Choso, sad I couldn’t kiss him one last time. He peered back to me with a similar expression, he lightly touched my hand as he turned towards the front door and took a step.

“Both of you.”

“What?”

Choso stopped and looked to me then his brother, confused.

“You should stay brother, it’s dangerous to drive after staying up so late.”

Todo sipped his tea casually, peering into us innocently. I couldn’t help but let a smile creep in, I extended my hand out to Choso. He looked a bit scared to take it, but did it anyways, cautiously eyeing down his brother.

“Thanks Todo..”

I mumbled as I began to pull Choso back down the hall.

“Keep it down…and use protection!”

Choso and I giggled and scoffed as Todo’s voice echoed down the hall.

-✨—✨—✨—✨—✨—✨—✨—✨—✨-

Okie dokie, hope y’all enjoyed😉❤️‍🔥

[ghostieyanyan]

If you don’t mind, which yandere twst boys do you see being most likely to exploit a mentally exhausted prefect to kidnap them?

To clarify, I think it can be argued that the prefect would be absolutely done with NRC after six life-or-death situations due to the overblots on top of being forced to adapt to education system of another world and putting up with the quality of students at NRC. You can’t tell me that a school full of villains would treat the only magicless student well. That just screams prime opportunity to manipulate the prefect into leaving NRC to go somewhere “safer” with one of the boys.

Once again, I’m just curious about your thoughts so don’t feel pressured to respond!

yes yes yes!!!

poor perfect tired to the bone from crowly and the other students. if only there was a knight and shining armor that can come and save them.

No longer an accidentally post! But I mean it did help me finish it lol

~Mental-Exhausted!Mc~

Yan!Riddle x mc

Yan!Leona x mc

Yan!Jamil x mc

Yan!Lilia x mc

Warnings: yandere, kidnapping, drug use (shrink potion), abusive behavior, chains, collar, gag, parenthood (gender-neutual), gritting teeth(?) (I know some people hate it so ill put it in here), not a lot of proof-reads,

~~~~~

Riddle

yes, riddle was the first overblot (technically) and after his overblot, he felt awful about how he behaved. he was supposed to look after Heartslaybu but he ended up becoming his mother. he hated himself for that.

So now, not only is he taking better care of his dorm, with the help of his dorm. but whenever he sees you, he tries his best to check up on you.

How are you? Do you need help with any school assignments? etc.

they all had sweet intents at first but over time, you started to look drain.. like the life was sucked right out of you. when he asked ace and deuce, they confirmed that you were just tired of all the overblots and being crowley's lap dog. if only he knew how to help you...

at first he asked, trey and cater about how he should help you. they were mature enough to know, right?

cater, being cater, teased him on "having a crush on the perfect" or how he phrased it "oooohhh you are down bad!! lol" whatever that means...

Trey said that maybe ask the perfect if they do need help. but Riddle knows the perfect, they'll say they're fine even when they're not..

riddle felt lost and swallowed his pride as he dials his mother's number.

his mother was furious with the fact that riddle was facing an issue he cant fix himself but what she said about perfect shocked him.

"well.. maybe if this perfect isn't as perfect as their title, maybe they don't belong in Night Raven College!"

with that... the call ended.

now that he wasn't being held by his mother's strings, he saw red...! no one talks about his perfect like that! but.. she has a point.. (which makes him more frustrated) if perfect is miserable here... maybe they shouldn't be attending NRC. but where would they go...?

when he thought about that, he realized he didn't really want to be away from you... you mean too much to him.

so later that day, he requested you to join him in his room, he need to talk to you. you agreed cause why would you be cautious with someone you trust, plus you were too tired to worry about how strange the request was. he gave you tea and asked if you were okay.. you said yes, just stressed with some classes and drank you tea. it tasted... off.

you feel yourself shrinking.. you were shrinking!

you looked at riddle and he was just smiling at you! he picked you up and placed you into a tea pot.

"it'll be okay, my dear. once i graduate and get us a nice home, we'll live our happy lives away from this stress and... toxic poison. But for now, you'll have to behave. i love you, my dear"

~~~~~

Leona

Whether you noticed him or not, Leona watches you run back and forth, from hallway to hallway. Kinda like a mouse running around for food but also staying hidden. Sometimes your running around helps him sleep or just ease him to a zen.

He'd normally wouldn't bat an eye because you're just a lap dog for that crow. But after time has past. He watched as you get slower, more exhausted. like you're pushing to prove something. It ercked him more than he would like. It hit too close to home for him.

When he finally was able to approach you on the matter, you looked like your soul was taken from you. Something within just snapped. He had enough of this. He made the call and suddenly, savanaclaw students came to your side and dragged you to leona's room. If you try to resist, Leona lucky told them to not hurt you too badly. But accidents happens. With their rough handling, you blacked out.

You wake up with a pretty collar around your neck and a chain attach to it? You look around and this is not your ramshackle room. You tried to sit up for a better look and get quick pulled down by the chain collar. It nearly broke your neck! But Leona would say you're being dramatic.

"Quick moving, im trying to sleep.."

You looked and saw Leona. He was laying on your chest and his legs were holding your legs down. He was like a strange weighted blanket. He wasn't in his school uniform but looks like he's in home attire?

"Where are we, leona..?"

You said, scared cause your literally in the hands of a lion that could kill you really quick..

He ears twitched and he looked up at you, bored. But he let out a smirk.

"Were home~"

It took you a minute to process what he said... home? Apparently your confused was evident on your face and leona let out a long sigh. He moved or above you, pining you down.

"Were at Sunset Savanna palace and WE are both gonna be staying here until I can trust you'll be a good obedient herbivore and stay by my side."

You were lost for words and unconsciously started to struggle under leona. Trying to push him off, kicking your legs, he got really annoyed when you accidentally pinched his tail with the bed and your foot.

His retaliation was to slam you down, knocking the wind out of your lungs. As you were gasping for air, he bit you really hard on your throat. You let out a silent scream. You thought you were going to die. This was your last moment of life.

Leona eventually let's go but quickly replacing his fangs with his hand.

"You WILL be obedient... do I make myself clear.."

That wasn't a question.. it was a demand.

~~~~~

Jamil

Jamil hardly noticed you.. PERIOD.

He's busy not only taking care of scarabia but also their housewarden. While his housewarden takes the credit.. he hated it. And the fact his housewarden is so happy go lucky to him too. Makes his blood boil!!

Jamil truly believed that no one would feel his pain, his struggles.. because everyone sees Kalim "success" before anything!

You and Jamil were in the housewarden meeting, well on the outside of the office during the meeting. Jamil had to be there because Kalim and you were there for Crowley...

You both had a quick moment until you asked him hows he been? He lends his head back against the wall and sighs. You laugh at his actions.

"I get that, hehe"

His eye twitched.

"Do you now..?"

"Heh.. I really do. I'm here for Crowley, even tho he's the Headmage. He's like a spoiled brat with responsibility... and HE knowing more about this world, and the work he does for it, more than I do. But nooo... he still gives it to me!"

Jamil stares at you as you vent about your stress and struggles in NRC. He honestly thought that your life is harder than his! How on the seven do you-?

The doors to the office opens and you and jamil both stand up. The other housewardens walked off and kalim ran to jamil, like a parent picking up their kid in kindergarten.

Jamil sighs, seeing kalim's face makes him exhausting... he quickly looks at you, not turning his head to not make it obvious. You were walking into Crowley's office as he hands you a big stack of papers. He practically saw the light in your eyes fade... he HAS to do something.. but what?

A few days past and he just watched you get more exhausted. The more he watches you the more his feelings for you grows. And the more he watched you get degraded the more he wants to set the world on fire for you..

You couldn't hold a conversation as long as you use to now! What is Crowley making you do?

His hand balled into fist. Then he get an idea.. he's always wanted to do this but never thought about it, there will be come changes to the plan with you in it but it could work!

It was in the evening and he stopped by the Ramshackle dorm. With shaking hands he knocked. He can't believe he's gonna do it.

You answer and he quick took out a cloth from his pocket and covered your mouth. Your struggles were pointless with his strength and your muffled screams wasn't going to be heard by anyone since you practically lived in the middle of nowhere. You went limp and he smile grew.

You woke up, chained, gaged, and blindfolded. You didn't know where you were you were so scared.. but you hear foot steps...

"Good morning, my little desert flower~ im sorry I had to contain you like this, I can't risk anymore seeing you. But once we leave the Isle of Sages, ill let you see."

~~~~~

Lilia

Lilia has been watching you since that first day you came here. How much chaos your presence cause, not including Grims presence, was amazing.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel something for you after that first day.

Whenever you're doing anything, he watches. And if hes busy, he has his bats watch you instead. They'll report any and everything about you. Including the dark circles appear under your eyes.

To say he was a little pissed... was an understandment. How dare the Crow hurt someone he cared for..

Lilia had half a mind to just get rid of Crowley with a big display of his remand.. but his kids will be scar so probably not.

He'd would think about if for a bit and told himself, why not just take you to live in Briar Valley? You could live there and he'd support you and care for you. You have a caring personal type with how much you take care of those first years.

You'll make a perfect parent...

Lilia stopped by Ramshackle dorm for a "surprised visit". You thought his strange behavior was just lilia being a strange guy? Meanwhile lilia felt like he was young again when he's with you. He felt shy and anxious. He was all fidgety and not making 100% eye contact with you.

Oh by the seven, you stir something within him and its not unwelcomed.

"Lilia? I don't mean to be rude but.. umm... why are you here..? You kinda came at a bad time.. Crowley has some paper work he wants me to fill out for him.."

Lilia fidgeting stop and if you had his super hear, you'd hear him grit his teeth for a moment.

He flips around suddenly and gets a unsettling smile.

"I came because I just remembered a old story and I wanted to tell someone before it slips my mind!"

You stared at Lilia but nodded for him to continue.

"Do you remember when I told you about the story of the Thorn Fairy? And how she put a curse on this cute little human~?"

With every word he spoke, he got closer to you.. you tried to make some distance but it quickly was put to a halt when lilia grabbed your arm.

"L-ilia.. You're hurting me.."

You tried to pull away but nothing can compete with Lilia's strength.

"Did I also tell you that with skill and focus, a powerful mage, can change the effect of such a powerful spell~?"

You're particularly trembling at this point. He got up really close to you and he shows you a small sewing needle.

"I promise, it won't be too long. Just long enough for everyone to stop looking for you~"

{I didn’t give Lilia an art piece because I drew something similar already}

[yuikomorii]

might be wrong about this but I think the thing that really differentiates Ayato from his brother is that he actually values life in a ''pure way''. Both Subaru and Shu didn't really have the will to life until they met the MC, Reiji's only will was to overcome his father and become better than his brother due to his jealousy, and even if it doesn't seem like it from the surface both Kanato and Laito were too mindbroken due to their trauma to actually enjoy life in a non-twisted way.

Ayato went through a lot of traumatic experiences just like the rest of his brothers but unlike them, he actually had a pure reason to live, that's why he didn't abandon his brothers and was desperately searching for them when they arrived to Rottienburg (I think that's the name) and prioritized them after he got saved by reiji and was willing to go look for them with no plan ahead and he's never changed. Even after they obviously drifted apart he still wanted to save his siblings (like in Lost Eden) even if they didn't want to save him when he got kidnapped by Kino.

Or when he was the only who saved yui in the anime when she got kidnapped by the mukami (Ik it's only fanservice because the anime shows Ayato as the ml). Or when he was the only one worrying about mc in the Olympics cd when the whole thing crushed down. I know mc has had her effects in everyone (because even reiji got worried in the CD drama when he though someone was drowning, turns out it was just Shu being weird) but at the end of the day, Rejet made it very clear that ayato always was different from his brothers even as kids.

Too long? Maybe, I just like rambling a lot about ayato lol

// This franchise is longer than a decade, it’s time for people to stop pretending that Ayato isn’t different from the rest, because it annihilates his purpose like that. Now I’m not saying that everyone else sucks and Ayato is the only cool character there, it’s just that Rejet wrote him in a way that genuinely gives off main character energy. Heck, even other characters have confirmed that he got *something* nobody else does, which is true.

Credit to: dialovers-translations, tournesolia

One thing about Ayato is that he might roast and prank you, but the moment you need help, he’ll be the first to lend you a hand. He’s by no means perfect, of course, he has flaws and makes mistakes too, but his good qualities are just so many that they’re easily able to outshine his bad ones.

Another example is the DF prologue scene. The most normal reaction would have been fighting with the wolf, as Subaru did, but instead of trying to get rid of it, Ayato used himself as shield the moment he saw it, so as to protect Yui. What makes this scene so powerful is that not only they weren’t a couple back then, but in the other Sakamaki routes, he’s still severely injured. He values life, yet he still sacrificed himself for her, no matter if she dates someone else afterwards, and guess what? Even after waking up from the coma in the other routes, he holds no grudge against her for that, but rather is on good terms with Yui. I would also like to talk about how self-sacrificing he is in the Daylight CD, but I feel like everyone listened to that one already, given that it was the most liked of the Daylight series.

While I understand that some people out there prefer more rational and/or introverted characters, I can’t stand those who deny the essence of a character. And, for all people who blame Rejet for “making him more special than the rest”, let me remind you that he’s the Diaboy who got the worst journey ending. Let that sink in. :”)

[smoft-demons]

If you aren't busy could you try writing about an mc that looks identical to Lilith and maybe even has a similar name example: lily, Lillian etc. (If you can, maybe mc that has a similar personality with lilith) And Ofc its platonic. (sorry if you don't understand, I barely ask on tumblr(⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Also! It can be fluff or angst (if you can't write all of the brothers lucifer, belphegor and Beelzebub would be fine(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Mc can be gender neutral! (You can choose whatever format you're comfortable with)

Ofc if u don't want to its fine, i just saw your requests open

Sorry if this is too long(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Sure! No worries about it being too long, it gives me lots to work with :)

First request yay! Hope you like it

MC’s name is Lily

Lucifer:

Lucifer double-takes when he first sees you. He knew your name in advance, but looking at you, seeing the resemblance… it shocks him.

He keeps a straight face, however.

It becomes increasingly obvious that he has a soft spot for you. It grows softer and softer as he gets to know you.

When you harmlessly disobey him, he can’t help but let you off. Lilith was a bit of a rebel too, and you look just like her when you’re trying to be sneaky

He loses it when you put yourself in danger! You remind him so much of his baby sister, who he gave everything he could for… and he’s supposed to keep this blasted human alive, so help him he will succeed! It’s a matter of pride—and also trauma.

All that is there, but still Lucifer makes an effort to pay attention to the differences between Lilith and you. Few as there may be, he will not cloud his own judgement by thinking of you as the new her.

And he will not do you the disservice of acting like you’re someone you’re not.

When the ancestry reveal happens, he’s not exactly surprised. It’s still great news, but… not shocking!

He’s already had his crisis about not being unfair to you by acting like you’re a replacement, so he’s actually pretty good about not saying anything hurtful along those lines.

Beelzebub:

He can’t bear to look at you at first

I mean really, how he’s grieving his sister plus how he’s missing his twin… what’s he supposed to do? You’re in Belphie’s spot, and you’re called Lily, and you’re even acting like her… his heart aches

Good news tho, he definitely won’t eat you

He feels AWFUL for scaring you that one time, about the custard

And that conversation when he opens up to you about that impossible choice he had to make about who to save? He won’t admit it to you or to himself, but a big part of why he asked you who you would have chosen is that he hopes you can give him some insight into what Lilith would have chosen. If she would have made the choice he did.

Once you’ve become good friends with him, he does make an effort to not confuse you with his sister… but it’s hard for him, especially if you look and act like her. He’s really trying!

He would want to hug you for hours after having nightmares of falling. It helps him feel like maybe he’s not a total failure of a protector

He’s giving Mammon a run for his money in terms of being protective of you.

Beel finds himself conflicted after the big reveal. He’s overjoyed to have Belphie back, but he’s so angry with him for hurting you, and also he’s so upset with himself for not realizing Belphie was trapped in the attic the whole time, and ALSO he’s struggling with keeping you separate from Lilith in his mind, similar and genuinely connected as you are, and that makes him feel even more guilty because he genuinely does love you just for yourself. He feels like it’s very mean to you if he lets himself be distracted from that.

This is further complicated by you naturally falling into the role of his baby sister. He loves having you in that role, but it’s hard. A bit triggering. He’s working through it!

All in all, he’s a good big brother. He’d be overjoyed to hear it if you tell him that.

Belphegor:

Learning your name sends him spiralling. He was thinking of this exchange program as a betrayal to Lilith’s memory, he thought Lucifer had forgotten about her, he thought Lucifer didn’t care, but he chose a human named LILY?? Is this him being manipulative, is this coincidence, does it mean he HASN’T stopped caring, does it mean he’s trying to replace their lost baby sister with some human?

Belphie can’t figure it out.

He hangs onto his hatred. He carries out the first steps of his plan

When you meet him, he just… stares. You look like her…

He refuses to cry about it! He sticks to the script, lying to your face as planned, summoning all the hatred and resentment in his fallen heart.

But… you keep coming back. Not just to update him about your pact collecting, but also… just to chat? Checking on him, bringing him small snacks and things that fit through the gaps in the door, telling him about what his brothers are up to, reminding him that Beel misses him terribly and no one has forgotten about him

He’s finding it hard to keep hating you. In all honesty, he’s grown fond of you! But he has a plan and he’s sticking to it! You’re NOT his sister, and nothing short of a miracle can convince him to let go of his resentment!

In timeline A, after the first jailbreak, he never gets around to harming you. He can’t figure out if it’s due to laziness, lack of opportunity, fondness for you on his part, or not wanting to make Beel sad. This becomes irrelevant of course, after Diavolo imprisons him

In timeline B, you’re sent back in time to see how he got released. You open the door, he offers you the hug, you accept.

It’s… nice, for a long moment. Gentle and warm and comfy.

And then he regains his determination, going ahead with his plan to kill you. He gets as far as “Finding it hard to breathe?” before he looks at you. Expecting to feel sadistic satisfaction at seeing a human face screwed up in pain like that. But… you look like his baby sister.

You look just like his baby sister, and you’re scared and hurt. His baby sister… panicking and tearful, because of HIM

He can’t do it

His grip relaxes. He doesn’t let you go, but he’s no longer hurting you.

He’s shaking.

You feel… moisture in your hair. Your throat is bruised and bleeding from his claws digging into your skin. You’re wheezing through your crushed airway. Your brain is flooded with adrenaline. Your prey terror hasn’t let up, as the demon who was threatening your life is still holding you, and he’s CLEARLY still unstable. But, maybe crying from guilt is safer than cold determination to murder you…?

At this point, the others rush in. Mammon tears you away from Belphie. Beel is frozen in horrified confusion. Belphie is having a breakdown on the floor.

Diavolo and Barbatos fill everyone in. Belphie can’t even look at you, he feels so awful.

As you both heal, you get closer. You become real friends. You learn what aspects of the Belphie you knew from the attic were lies, and the surprising amount of things that were true. With everyone’s help, Belphie really digs deep and commits to finally unpacking his trauma and his survivor’s guilt and his grief.

Once you trust him enough—and he trusts himself enough—he takes every opportunity to spoil you. He’ll cuddle you whenever you want, he’ll make sure you don’t get any nightmares, he’ll share his food, he’ll even let you wake him up for dumb things without getting mad at you.

______

I didn’t have many ideas for the rest. I had some for Mammon, but nowhere near as many as for these three. I might add the Mammon ideas as a short bonus later, if I have the energy or any more inspiration.

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles - Update 10/Nov/2023

Super busy week this week! We have a very strict schedule to ensure this Christmas story is released on time, so it’s full steam ahead :D

We decided to do this game on the Ren’py engine, which obviously is quite the switch. It will still be text-based, but we can add a bit more pizzazz to it with some fun Christmas designs, GUI, as well as add in some music!

Obviously, this does present the problem of not being able to transfer in saves from Choicescript, but as this is a stand-alone story not affected by main game events, so that’s not a worry.

But I do want it to be super quick and easy to make your MC in this game seeing as you can’t just transfer them in—definitely not have to go through dozens of screens to do that! So I’ve managed to come up with a way to make it that you can pick your stats on one screen—simple and quick!

Nai has been designing the GUI aspects, and they look SO merry and amazing! You might have seen the work-in-progress stat screen I was just talking about this week that she posted.

It’s been quite the experience re-learning how to code GUI again, as it’s been quite some time that I’ve worked on Ren’py, and it’s been updated quite a bit since then :D But it’s coming together really nicely, so very pleased with that and the feel it’s giving to the game!

Something else I forgot would need to be thought of is fonts. So we’ve been trying to figure out the best font to make it unique, Christmassy, but very readable.

We’re also starting to think about how to look for some testers for releasing it on Mac computers. I’ve never had issue with releasing visual novels on Mac in the past as Ren’py games seem pretty stable on those, but we want to be super sure of it before being able to say yay or nay! :D

And then of course there was writing and coding the actual game itself, hehe! I’m having to be more strict with myself on too many dialogue choice sets seeing as it’s supposed to be a lighter game…but you guys know what I’m like by now, lol! Still want it to feel like a Wayhaven game and just as immersive 😁.

I hope you all have an amazing weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update you all again next Friday <3

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!artist!reader

Part 17: A creature of love, I can't be tamed

masterlist playlist

18+ONLY, series typical violence, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex with someone other than Eddie and reader, hate-fucking (consensual), oral (m receiving), sexual harassment, biker!steve, biker!billy, protective!eddie, rocker!nancy

word count: 6.4k

songs: I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, Wild Child by W.A.S.P. and Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative

The second half of your first night back at the Velvet Hammer heats up with Eddie on stage, Charlene on the premises with Billy, and Steve working through his emotions in a moment of carnal desire.

authors note: It has felt so good to get back to writing this story, I missed our biker boys so much. It will probably be another week or two until the next part, but you won't have to wait too long. Thank you for your patience, I love you.

There came the sound of shrill feedback from the stage, and the drummer twisted his stick around his fingers before clapping the high hat. You took your break and met Eddie over by the carpeted hallway.  The two of you huddled together, out of view from the front half of the bar, including Charlene and Billy.  

“What’s Steve going to do?” You hushed, feeling the familiar anxiety rise inside of you that someone might get hurt again.  

“Nothing for now,” Eddie exhaled.  You put your hand on his chest, and he held it there. “You let me worry about Steve and Charlene, you have enough to do.  I won’t let anything go sideways in here tonight.”

You told him about what you’d just learned from Shana, about Charlene being part owner of the Velvet Hammer, and he gave a slow blink, dragging out a long, ragged breath.  “Why does that not surprise me,” you could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning. “She can’t have this place, it’s ours,” he growled, walking you down the hall and clanking open the heavy metal back door to the alley.  

“But,” you started.  Eddie pulled a pack of smokes out of his front pocket and sparked a flame from his zippo to light the end.  “Isn’t it too late for that? It sounds like she already took it?”

You held two fingers like you were making a peace sign for Eddie to pass you a smoke and he raised his eyebrow at you curiously.  You gave a nod, answering his unspoken question, and he put a second one between his lips to light it for you before passing it over.  

You took a tiny drag and coughed smoke out of your nose at first, but then the second inhale was smoother.  Thanks to so many nights at the Hammer, your throat and lungs were sufficiently coated with tar and ready for the challenge.  

The other owner of the Hammer was a well known real estate investor and builder named Murray Bauman, and he was a friend of the MC.  They’d done several “jobs” for him over the years that were clean by MC standards, but dirty enough to ruin his reputation if they came to light. Murray was also notoriously unfriendly with the Gregson’s, and Eddie wondered how much Charlene had paid, and what kind of scandal she’d dug up on Stephen, to make him give up his share like that.  

Eddie tilted his head back, exposing his throat, to take a long, thoughtful drag, looking up at the clear sky that was blinking full of stars.  “I wish I could go back in time before I ever met Charlene, and avoid her at all costs.”

“I don’t know,” you looked down and kicked the heel of your shoe against your toe.  “She’s awfully determined.  I think she would’ve found you anyway.  Plus, I don’t think it’s you she wants anymore.”

“I feel responsible though,” Eddie muttered, blowing smoke out through tight lips. “For everything that’s happened to the people around me because of her.”

The sound of Nancy saying something into the mic, followed by the crowd cheering, came muffled through the door, and you really wanted to change the subject, to pull him out of his dark thoughts.  “I’d love to see you play tonight,” you told him right before both of your cherries glowed orange at the same time in the dark.  

“I don’t have my guitar here,” he stated the obvious, sucking his tongue on the roof on a sharp inhale, angling his head back to blow smoke up while keeping his eyes on you.  “But I might sing one or two with her.  Just for you.”

“You can sing too?” Your eyes got wide like a little kid watching the twinkling lights on a Christmas tree.

“Hi, baby, have we met?” He scoffed, slipping his bottom lip through his teeth to repress a grin, and then he winked at you and smashed his smoke on the brick wall before throwing it in the dumpster. He caught you by the hips and pulled you flush to him.  “I mean, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

—--------

Back on his stool, Steve rolled a toothpick between his lips while he scanned the crowd, and did his best not to look over at Billy and Charlene. He wasn’t sure what was eating at him more; the fact that she had the nerve to show up after everything, or that she was there with Billy.  

The crew from Lucifer’s Own were known for doing the dirty deeds no other MC would touch.  They ran a high-end escort service on the outskirts of town, and did a lot of blow and opiate smuggling over the border.  It was also a front for an underground fighting ring that was dirty and rigged, and sometimes, the fools who participated ended up with broken bones, or had their lights turned out completely.  

Billy Hargrove and Steve went way back, and they’d actually been friendly acquaintances for a while back in high school, until Billy had pursued a girl Steve liked at the time just to piss him off. Also, to prove to Steve that he could take whoever he wanted.  “Nothing wrong with a little competition, right, Harrington?” Is that what this was? Was Billy escorting Charlene around just to rub it in Steve’s face?

“Yeah, well, you can have her,” Steve mumbled to himself under his breath, thoughts racing so fast that he was starting to talk to himself, head bent to work the end of the toothpick with his fingers.  “Good luck with that one, buddy, you’ll need it.”

There was more feedback from the speakers.  “Hey there Hawkins, who is ready to rock?” Nancy purred into the microphone, one hand gripping the fretboard of her guitar before she slung the strap around her body. People shouted and cheered, and there were a few high-pitched whistles of encouragement.

The bassist with the band looked like a younger version of Eddie, but with a mane of black hair that was thick with tight curls, and the drummer had a black goatee and long, straight hair way past his shoulders.  The backup guitarist looked like he was cut right out of the James Hetfeild playbook.  

“We’re gonna start out with a little something familiar to get y’all warmed up,” Nancy said into the mic.  “This one is called I Hate Myself for Loving You.”

The crowd roared, pounding their fists on the tables.  Nancy said a countdown before she began a slow clap to the beat and the drums kicked in, deep bass vibrating in the walls.  

When Steve looked up, he saw Charlene making her way across the room, either for the payphone or the restrooms, and Steve straightened up, wondering if he should say something to her.  He went up to the bar and patted Thumper on his broad back, asking him to watch the door for a few minutes.  Thumper was three beers and several shots in, but was not yet showing any signs of inebriation.  He fisted a handful of his graying beard and told Steve it was no problem.  

“Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you?

You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two

I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you…”

He followed but he hung back, hiding in the crowd until he saw her go into one of the bathrooms.  When you and Eddie came out from the alley, you found Steve leaning against the wall that was heavily papered in band flyers, next to the payphone.  

Eddie was walking behind you,his hands firm on your hips, moving his legs in time with yours.  You both came to a halt at the sight of Steve, and you had to shove off, back to work, but Eddie took your hand to kiss your knuckles before you walked away.

“Everything cool?” Eddie asked his friend, checking around to make sure no chaos had ensued while he’d been outside with you.  There was a huge crowd there, packed in like sardines.  All of the tables and bar stools were occupied, and plenty of people were taking advantage of the standing room only, blocking most of the walkways.  

“I’m not sure yet, man,” Steve put his head back against the wall, Adam’s apple jutting out.  “But I’ll let you know.”

“I called Van and told him to get over here with Devlin,” Eddie let him know.  “Just in case more of Lucifer’s Own try to cause trouble.”

Steve only nodded, absently, his eyes twitching to the bathroom door every so often.  Eddie clapped Steve a few times on the arm before turning to watch the band as he pushed his way through the crowd.  Nancy made her fingers into devil horns in the air at him and Eddie returned the gesture, raising his arm high.  

“I think of you every night and day

You took my heart and you took my pride away…”

The crowd was stomping their feet to the rhythm and belting out the chorus.  Nancy detached the mic from the stand to make her way across the stage.  

The second Steve saw the door open, he took long strides across the hallway to keep Charlene from exiting, pushing her back inside the single-person bathroom.  She did not protest as he braced the door and locked it behind him, turning to face her with a tight jaw.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Char?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” She hushed it, dropping her gaze as if suddenly she was afraid to look at him.  “I missed you.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlene, you need to stop.” He rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated.  “I’m sorry for how I treated you at the hotel, but this needs to end.”

“But what if I don’t want to stop?” She closed in on him, lifting her hands to hold his face, but he blocked the effort, restraining her at the wrists. “What if I want you so bad, it hurts?”

He met her eyes.  “You miss me and you thought fucking Billy would be the answer?”

“We’re not fucking, it’s not like that with him.  Not like it was with you.”  She struggled a little in his grasp just so he would tighten his grip on her.

Steve scoffed.  “You mean, not like it was with me and Eddie and your husband and every other dude you’ve spread your legs for in this town?” Steve wasn’t one to judge, not with the amount of pussy he’d run through over the years, but still, showing up with one of his rivals was a low blow.  

Charlene slammed forward so that Steve’s back hit the door, her breath hot and urgent on his neck. “No one fills me up like you do.  I need your cock to split me open one last time, Stevie, please.”

She sank to her knees, kissing down his chest as she went, and he let her, releasing her wrists so that she could make quick work of unbuttoning his Levi’s.  She licked around his balls and nuzzled her face in the hair at the base of his thick shaft, making hungry gasps of need as she did so.

He hissed when the fat head of his cock sank into her mouth. “Juss…just one more time,” he groaned as she lapped him up.  She hummed around his length and nodded, looking up at him, agreeing as her lips strained to take the measure of his girth.  

“I know you’re angry, Steve,” she flicked her tongue out over the ridge a few times like a poisonous snake about to strike.  “I want you to take it out on me.”

He fisted a handful of her hair, tight, so that he controlled the movements of her head, and it made her whimper with pleasure.  

—------

The next song Divine Filth sang was an original, a real headbanger that had Nancy growling into the mic and jabbing her devil horn fingers in the air. The bass guitarist’s fingers strummed the keys while the drummer spun his sticks high in the air and caught them.  You noticed that a few of the male patrons were choosing to go outside to take a piss, which meant there was another line at the bathrooms again, but you were too busy to go over and check out why.  

While Erika was on her break, it was your responsibility to go over and check on Billy, since Jackie was working the other side of the room.  Two more of the Coffin Kings had just arrived and Eddie was out in the parking lot having a talk with them, being that it was hard to have a conversation inside with the band playing. 

You made your way over to Billy’s table, noticing that Charlene was nowhere to be found.  One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin while he watched you approach, and you wondered if he knew who you were and who you belonged to.  You also wondered if he gave a shit.

As you got closer, you noticed that he had a pronounced scar from his eye to his jaw, and he didn’t have a ton of tattoos like the other boys, but there was the word “mother” above a heart with a dagger through it just under the sleeve of his t-shirt on his bicep and a Lucifer’s Own insignia on his opposite forearm.  

He was slouched down a bit in his seat, knees spread wide, voice raised to be heard over the music.  “You must be War Machine’s old lady,” he gave you a lift of his chin.

“You are correct,” you said with your best customer service smile.  

“Damn,” his hand made a cage around the pack of smokes on the table so he could pull it toward him.  His eyes locked onto your face, unwavering.  “That son of a bitch always had good taste.”

“If you say so,” you checked over your shoulder, expecting to see Eddie charging over with that dangerous scowl on his face, but he wasn’t inside yet.  You cleared your throat.  “Can I get you anything else?”

He ordered another beer for himself and a tequila for Charlene, even though you knew she was much more of a wine drinker.  

“Just put it on Charlene’s tab,” he said with a wink, alluding to the fact that she was practically your boss now. “But this is for you,” and before you could reach for the 20 dollar bill he had in his hand, he was stuffing it into the waistband of your shorts, fingers grazing your bare skin, watching the discomfort wash over your face as he did so.

You turned on your heel without another word, bee-lining back to the bar, when Eddie stepped through the main door so abruptly, you almost crashed into him.    

Devlin and Van moved around the two of you while Eddie put one hand on your lower back and the other cupped the back of your neck.  “You okay, baby?” He mumbled, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

You nodded, but then Eddie looked over in the direction you had just come and saw Billy there, flicking the flame on his lighter and watching the interaction between the two of you.  You knew what Eddie was looking at by the way his body tensed.  “Did Billy say something to you?”

“I had to wait on his table while Erika was on her break,” you were pulling your boyfriend away as you were talking, practically dragging him back to his seat at the bar.  “Nothing happened, I’m fine.  I just missed you.”

On stage, Nancy lit into a mean guitar solo.

“You sure?” Eddie’s stare was hard.  

“Hey,” you grabbed Eddie’s face, making him look at you. “Baby, can’t you see? He wants to start trouble.  Just ignore him.  Please, for me.”

“Did he touch you?”  His jaw muscles bulged and a dark fell over his brown eyes, making them almost black.

“No baby,” you hummed the lie.  Eddie had quite a bit of common sense, more so than Steve when it came to affairs of the heart, but you knew that someone would get hurt if you told him about the way Billy had slid that money into your shorts.  You had no doubt that Eddie could handle himself, but you didn’t want there to be any more fighting; everyone had already been through enough.  Plus, Billy was not the first guy at the Hammer to overstep, and he wouldn’t be the last.  Sadly, that was the nature of the work, you’d come to realize. 

Eddie took a breath and lowered his forehead to yours, slotting his fingers around your ears so that his thumbs grazed your cheeks.  “I’ll be good, sweetheart,” he promised.

Everyone clapped at the end of the song and then you heard Eddie’s name being said over the speakers.

“We’re lucky enough to have the frontman for Corroded Coffin here with us tonight,” Nancy started.  “And he said he might get up here for a song or two.  What do you say, Munson?”

The crowd went wild at that suggestion, and some even chanted his last name, punching fists into the air.  Nancy motioned him on stage with a few scoops of her fingers.

“I guess I’m doing this,” he said, parting your lips with his tongue for a brief but firm kiss before he made his way to the stage.  The James Hetfield guy was already taking off his guitar to hand it to Eddie before he could protest, and they clapped hands together in greeting.  Your “old man” was adjusting the strap over his shoulder when he looked out over the sea of heads and caught your eye. 

“I love you,” Eddie mouthed, taking the pic off of the chain that he had dangling around his neck.  

—-------

Five minutes earlier, Steve had Charlene bent over the sink in the bathroom, jeans low on his hips, yanking her head back by the throat as he jackhammered himself inside of her.  

“Tighter,” she whined, and his fingers closed in on her windpipe.  He’d pushed her thong to the side and was spitting every so often so that he could watch it slide down her slit and mix with the frothing wet mess of her arousal where his cock sank into her.  He didn’t need the saliva to lube his brutal pace, but he liked the idea of spitting on her, it helped him work through his hatred.  

“God Steve, you’re so fucking good, fuckkk,” she dragged the last word out as hips clapped onto her with rapid, forceful grunts, making her whole body jerk each time he made contact.

He slowed the pace for a few thrusts so that he could spit again, and then he used his thumb to rub the saliva around the pink hole that tightened at his touch.  He’d never been with a woman who had every inch of hair removed like her, she looked like some kind of porn star. He wanted to be in her ass one last time, but it felt too tight and warm where he was.  He was close.

He let go of her throat and clutched her hips on either side in a way that would bruise, angling to finish himself off.  

“You’re such a fucking whore for my cock,” he bit out. He wished she didn’t feel so fucking good.  He wished that his disgust for her didn’t also turn him on in a way that made him uncomfortable.  

Charlene’s eyes rolled back in her head, orgasm mounting rapidly as he buried himself base deep to a point where the line between pleasure and pain was blurred.  She knew this was a farewell reminder, and it made her cry out his name.

“Fuck Steve, I’m cumming,” a few more pumps and she was exploding around his length, legs shaking at the way the wave crashed over her, making her see white.

“Get on your knees,” Steve told her, his hips stuttering.  When she was down in front of him, he jerked himself the rest of the way off onto her outstretched tongue, ropes of cum painting her chin and dripping down to her cleavage.  He made her lick the rest of him clean, and then she sucked her fingers.  

Someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Yeah, hold your fucking horses,” Steve shouted, pulling his jeans up.  He helped Charlene get her bodysuit back on and zipped up.  He almost kissed her, but then he remembered who she was.  

He checked himself in the mirror and slicked his hair back before letting her know she should wait a minute until after he was gone before she followed him out.  She was cleaning the mascara that had leaked down her cheeks, and was about to apply more lipstick, when she caught his eyes on her in the reflection.  

“What if I told you I had a gift for you?” Her expression was coy.

Steve sighed.  “I don’t want anything from you, Char. This was it, I’m done, I mean it.”

She rolled the red lipstick out of its gold tube.  “What if it was something that would change your life?”

He thought about that, wetting his lips.  “Listen, we’re never gonna fuck again.  I don’t care if you buy me a Ferrari.”

“Well, it’s better than a car,” she huffed a small laugh.  “Let’s just call it a…parting gift.  A way for me to say sorry for everything I put you and Eddie through.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and put his back against the door.  “Yeah, well, if this is about to be some grande gesture from you, I’d like to know what the catch is.”

She turned to him, fixing the ends of her hair around her face. “No catch, not this time,” she took a step forward, holding her black clutch in one hand.  “Listen, I know it sounds childish and stupid, but I think I…I think I fell in love with you.” She furrowed her brow as if the sentiment didn’t make sense to her, as if she’d never grasped the weight of the words before.

Steve couldn’t help himself, he rolled his eyes and barked a laugh, thoroughly amused. 

“I can’t change the past,” she tried to push her chest out, to get her statuesque posture back.  “But I can try to make it up to you.  To both of you.”

“Yeah?” Steve gave her a bored shrug.  “Personally, I think you’re way past the point of redemption.”

“Maybe,” she pressed her lips together and took hold of the door handle.  “I guess we’ll see.”

—------

All of your attention was eyes front on Eddie as he leaned over to discuss something with Nancy, lengthening the strap on his guitar as he spoke.  You barely noticed someone trying to make their way through the crowd until Steve bumped into your shoulder, making you sway on your feet.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he caught you and helped you find your balance.  “I didn’t see you there.”

Steve looked…disheveled, and his face was flushed, as if he’d just run around the block. There were lines in his hair from raking his fingers through it so many times.

“You good?” You called after him, but all he offered was a “thumbs up” over his shoulder.  

It was barely a minute before you caught sight of Charlene coming out of the hallway, following in his wake.  She had a pink flush to the pale skin of her throat, almost a perfect handprint impression, and your brain was busy putting the pieces together when Nancy got back on the mic. 

“This one is called Wild Child,” Nancy started on the guitar and people in the crowd got crazy again.  The Hell’s Belle next to you whistled so loud, it almost blew your eardrum out.  You weren’t too familiar with the band W.A.S.P. before Eddie, but you knew the song, and waited eagerly to hear his voice as he leaned in, moving his fingers along the strings.

“I ride, I ride the winds that bring the rain

A creature of love, and I can't be tamed

I want you, 'cause I'm gonna take your love from him

And I'll touch your face and hot burning skin

No, he'll never ever touch you like I do…”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he sang the first bit, hair hanging down his shoulders, muscles flexing under the ink that covered his forearms and hands.  When his eyes opened, he found you in the crowd, and your heart swelled at the way he cracked a smile around the words at the sight of you.  

“So look in my eyes and burn alive, the truth

I'm a wild child, come and love me

I want you…”

God, he was magic up there.  He looked like a natural, holding that guitar in his hands, the way his fingers flew deftly to each note.  

And he was all yours.  

The chorus came and you sang the words, smiling so hard already, your cheeks hurt.  You’d never known your eyes to “sparkle” like a cartoon before, but you felt like that’s what they were doing. 

“My heart's in exile, I need you to touch me

'Cause I want what you do

I want you”

Someone grabbed your elbow, and you spun around to see who it was.

Jackie had a full tray in her hand, trying to balance it amidst the moving bodies.  “Hey, are you on the floor right now? Don’t mean to be a bitch, but I need you.  A table full of jarheads just showed up.” 

“Oh shit, right,” you’d honestly forgot where you were for a moment, you’d been so caught up in that Munson Magic.  You took another glance at the stage, wanting to catch Eddie’s eye, but he was looking down at his hands, concentrating on where they worked the guitar.  

The table in your section that Jackie mentioned had seven guys in their mid-twenties sporting that type of “high and tight” haircut that you saw almost exclusively with members of military or law enforcement, and you took a deep breath, because you never knew what the vibe would be for those types of men who visited the Hammer.  Either they’d be extremely polite like they just came from church, or they’d be vile and disrespectful.  

“What’ll it be tonight, boys?” You asked, sidling up to their table.  “Buy one pitcher of draft and get the next half off.” 

They all turned to appraise you, not caring that the way their lewd stares locking on your body and tits made you uncomfortable.

“See, I told you,” the dark haired one said to the one in the red and white striped polo shirt.  “The bitches here are super hot.”

You gulped, doing your best to restrain from looking as disgusted as you felt while they talked about you like you weren’t even there.  

“How much for you to sit in my lap?” One of them asked.

“How much for you to suck me off?” One of them whispered, and the whole table guffawed into the type of laughter that was not warranted for something that was so not funny.

You checked over your shoulder for Steve, and he appeared to be escorting someone out who’d just been cut off.  There was a bench outside, and he always had them wait there while he called a member of their family or a taxi to come pick them up.  The guy was having a hard time getting his legs to work, and Steve had to practically carry him out. 

You glanced up at the stage when the other song ended, and you could tell Eddie was searching for you, and so you stuck your hand up in the air to catch his attention.  

“This one is for my girl,” he pushed hair out of his face and the sentiment made you freeze.  A goofy grin stretched across your face and you let out an actual giggle.  You were very familiar with the opening notes of Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative.  

“So, a pitcher of beer, then?”  You asked, distracted, but in a much better mood than you were a few seconds ago.  The guys at the table were too busy being crass to decide what they wanted to drink, so you chose for them.  They agreed on the pitcher, and ordered a round of shots. 

You kept your attention on Eddie as you made your way across the space, and your heart was in your throat at how proud you were to be his.  His voice was deep and powerful, and it seemed like no one could pull their eyes away. The air was a bit humid inside, and you could see a sheen of sweat on his skin already glistening, bangs sticking to his forehead.  He’d taken off his Coffin Kings cut and shirt, so he was up there in a ribbed, white tank of the Hanes variety, exposing the wash of dark tattoos over his shoulders and arm muscles that bulged from hours upon hours of manual labor.  

“I want to live with a cinnamon girl

I could be happy the rest of my life with her

A dreamer of pictures, I run in the night

You see us together, chase the moonlight…”

At the bar, you considered letting Van and Devlin know that there were some guys there who might start trouble now that Steve was distracted, but then you remembered that you were the bad bitch who stabbed Craig in the balls and brought him to his knees—-you could handle a few young douchebags.  

You gave Shana the drink order while Eddie’s deep voice bellowed, “my cinnamon girl, my cinnamon girl…” to the collective swooning of the crowd.  

You waited on two other couples, lingering in the middle of the room so that you could see Eddie more clearly, dragging your feet before you had to return to the guys with the matching haircuts.  

You took a cleansing breath and squared your shoulders before heading back.  You tried not to be bothered by the way the dudes checked you out as you put the drinks down.  When you were finished, the guy closest to you, with close-set eyes and a thick neck, ran his hand up the back of your leg.

“Hey,” your stare hardened on him and you stepped away, eyebrows pinching together.  “No touching.”

The guys all snickered at that, as if it was so funny that they all knew they weren’t supposed to touch the staff, but they still got away with it.  

“No he’s sorry, really,” said the tall, skinny one who hadn’t spoken up yet.  His face was unreadable, you couldn’t tell if he was being a shitheel or not.  The table fell silent for a beat.  “But we would really like to know how much it would cost for handjobs, all around.  Is there a group price for you girls?”

More idiotic cackling.

You turned to leave them, to go find Steve, to let him know you needed his assistance, but the one with the blonde hair and Limp Bizkit shirt caught you by the arm, digging his fingers in, and yanked you back so that his other hand could roam the curve of your ass.  “Just a little feel, baby, we’ll tip good,  I promise.”

You pushed him off and were just about to yell for Steve or Thumper when you saw the guy across the round table get his face smashed into the wood, so hard that blood splattered and you could hear the sick crack of breaking bone.

You were surprised to see Billy there, standing behind the one who was clutching his broken nose and wailing.  He was smiling, cigarette bobbing between his lips.  “I think you bozo’s should apologize to the lady.”

You hadn’t heard the music stop, didn’t realize that the commotion had drawn most of the attention to you.

In a flash, the guy in the Limp Bizkit shirt was ripped from his seat, and there was Eddie, picking him up by the throat to punch him across the face, sending him flying.

The impact made saliva and possibly a tooth go spitting from his mouth and you screamed at the shock of it.  

“Eddie look out!” You shouted.  The tall one was about to take a cheap shot at Eddie’s ribs while he sank another punch into the guy’s jaw, but you came down with your serving tray as hard as you could and nailed him.

“Holy shit,” Steve cursed when he stuck his head inside to see what the commotion was.  Thumper was nowhere to be found, and Steve figured he was taking a piss.  Starting brawls inside the Hammer was not protocol.  Bouncers were always encouraged to take everything outside, but now it was too late.  

“Get her out of here!” you heard Steve’s voice, he was talking to Devlin, and then you were being pulled back by cautious hands, away from the chaos. 

One of the jarheads was just about to break a beer glass over Eddie’s head, but Billy showed up out of nowhere and kicked him in the back, sending the asshole flying right into Steve’s awaiting fist.  The guy’s body crashed into a table, shattering glasses, and making the other patrons scatter.  

“You better leave this one for me, Harrington,” Billy smiled and wiggled his tongue.  “Wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours.”

Billy was helping them, and that was a twist you hadn’t expected.  Perhaps it wasn’t so much for them as for himself, since you could tell Billy had been looking for a fight all night.  

Steve got one of the other guys in a choke hold and began to drag him outside.  Billy made wide eyes at one of the leftover trouble makers and charged after him, making the guy shriek like he was about to pee his pants before running from the building.    

While the one Eddie had been punched was babbling at the foot of unconsciousness on the ground, he took hold of the one with the close-set eyes and the thick neck who had rubbed your leg first.

Eddie had been watching, and quick to cut off before the end of the song to jump down from the stage in a blinding rage.

Devlin held you loosely by the arms, but you shook him off, and stood next to Shana and Erika, continuing to keep your distance for the sake of Eddie and Steve’s peace of mind, and wincing each time one of the other dudes took a hard hit from one of the Coffin Kings.  

Eddie took the guy by the shirt and sent a punch into his stomach.  Mister Thick Neck doubled over but then Eddie took him by the throat and slammed him into the nearest wall.  Eddie had his fist winding back for a punch when Steve shouted his name to get his attention.  

The rest of the dickheads had been escorted outside by a few Hell’s Belle’s, while the rest of the crowd kept their distance.  You saw Charlene in the far corner, touching up her lipstick in a compact mirror, seemingly unphased by it all.  

“Not in here,” Steve pleaded with Eddie, breathlessly.  “Like you said.”

Eddie’s eyes were black and cold like that of a shark.  His mouth trembled with the urge to actually bite into the guy’s face, to mutilate him with his bare teeth and make him beg for mercy.

Eddie banged the guy's body into the brick wall again, locking him there with his forearm.  “Apologize to my girl,” he growled.

The buzz cut guy coughed and struggled, having a hard time breathing. “I don’t know who your girl is, man,” he was only able to squeak out a mild protest under the pressure of Eddie’s grip.  

“Your waitress,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth.

The guy against the wall tried to turn his head to look for you, but Eddie squeezed his face.  “You don’t get to look at her,” Eddie fumed.  “Just say you’re sorry.”

Multiple desperate “sorry’s” followed, and then Eddie told Steve to get the guy’s wallet to take all of the cash out.  A quick count said there was about a hundred bucks.

“That’ll be her tip,” Eddie announced, dragging him by the shirt collar to take him outside with the rest.  

They were all told to empty their wallets of their cash, and Steve made a scene of noting the addresses on their driver’s licenses.  

“I have a memory like a steel trap,” Steve lied, pointing to his temple, grabbing the guy in the red and white polo by the side of his neck, getting up in his face.  “If you so much as walk by this place ever again, or tell the cops about this, you’ll see me in your nightmares. Now, get the fuck out of here before I call your mommies.”

You sank in next to Eddie’s side just outside the main entrance, and he put his arm around you.  “Will things ever calm down around here?” You asked with a heavy sigh, watching the broken group scurry and limp away down the street.

Eddie gave a low laugh and hugged you a bit tighter.  “God, I hope so, baby.”

Divine Filth started another song, to try and get things back to normal, and most of the crowd returned to their drinks as if there had not been actual bloodshed just five minutes ago.

No one but Shana heard the phone next to the cash register ring over the sound of the music, but after a few seconds, she shrugged by you and Eddie to stick her head out and scan the sidewalk.

"Steve?" She craned her neck to look for him.

"Yeah, that's me," he came from around the back side of the door, flicking his cigarette, knuckles split and bloody again.

"Some guy named Dustin called," she said, merely passing on a message. "He said Suzie just went into labor."

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