#you know they had a snowball fight

[thoseboysinblue]

Dear @chelseaadmin, so help me if we don't get pictures of the boys playing in the snow....

[doom-dreaming]

High Flakes Combat

“Blue Lead,” Linda’s whisper cuts across TEAMCOM, crisp and several degrees colder than the icy landscape. “Hostiles approaching your position.”

Fred, tucked behind the trunk of a towering pine tree, exhales a slow, measured breath. Waiting. Listening. Without his motion tracker, only the crunch of footsteps in the snow—and Linda—could tell him when their opponents were closing in.

There. Fifteen meters out. He motions to John, positioned behind an adjacent tree. On my signal.

…ten meters…

Cover me. Go high.

…five meters…

John nods. Fred tightens his grip on his weapon.

Now.

As one, they pivot, breaching cover. Fred drops to a knee, attacking swiftly, before their adversary has a chance to retaliate.

The snowball hits Ash directly in the center of his chestplate. Active camouflage flickers briefly, then recalibrates, as the young Spartan crashes dramatically to his knees before sprawling backward, motionless.

Fred doesn’t let the theatrics distract him. The other two had to be nearby and the round wasn’t over until— A snowball whizzes past his head, followed by a sharp curse—out loud, close. He catches a shimmer of white on white as Olivia leaps to find cover and “reload,” but John is faster.

The snowball hits her thigh before she can complete her maneuver and she slides to a dejected halt in a snowbank. “Dammit! Mark!” she calls out. “You’re on your own!”

Fred doesn’t hear a verbal response. He knows he won’t, Mark’s too good to give away his position— Thwap. Fred’s vision goes fuzzy and white as Mark’s snowball connects with his visor, splattering on impact. Fred groans and flashes a red status light across his team’s HUDs. He’d be out until the next round.

“He’s on the move!” Linda barks over the comms.

Fred folds himself cross-legged into the snow and wipes his visor clean just in time to see Kelly bounding over a nearby ridge, clutching a snowball in each fist.

“I’ve got him!” She goes streaking across the snow toward a barely-visible figure—also sprinting.

Mark wouldn’t be able to outrun Kelly—a fact Fred knew the S-III was well aware of—but he was certainly trying his best.

Kelly nails Mark with both snowballs, one in the shoulder, the other in the back. He stumbles just enough that Kelly’s momentum sends her into him at full force. The clack of their colliding armor echoes like a shot as both Spartans go tumbling to the ground, sending up a minor flurry in their wake.

“Aaaaaaaand match!” Roland’s voice rings out over the simulation deck, followed by a buzzer. “Blue Team takes the win!”

“Again,” Olivia grumbles, pushing to her feet and dusting snow off her armor.

“It’s three against four,” Ash reminds her, still lying on his back a few feet from Fred.

Olivia crunches her way over and offers him a hand. “Can we make Kelly sit out the next round?”

“If you’re not having fun, leave,” John quips.

“Or maybe you should switch Kelly to our team and see how it feels,” Livi bites back, helping Ash haul himself to his feet.

“Fighting over me?” Kelly rejoins the group with Mark close behind. “I’m flattered.”

Fred chuckles. It was good to see Olivia trading barbs with John. The Gammas had warmed up to him quickly—and he to them—and it wasn’t hard to understand why. Fred was sure the S-IIIs had given him some new streaks of gray hair, but at the same time, they made him feel younger. He hoped they were having the same effect on John.

“So…” drawls a familiar voice, raised just loud enough to carry, “this is the reason my fireteams can't train today? A snowball fight.”

Every Spartan in the simulated snowscape whips toward the entrance. Commander Palmer stands at the far edge of the scene, arms crossed. She looks odd and out of place, a lone figure in a techsuit against the stark white surroundings, but no less intense than usual.

“Thought we’d try something different from the typical drills, ma’am,” Fred coughs. He’s not sure why he feels guilty; they’d requested the time and blocked out the schedule and followed protocol…even if they hadn’t said precisely what they’d be doing…

Before anyone else has a chance to speak, a snowball goes sailing over Fred’s shoulder, on a collision course for Palmer. She’s too far away to hit, but the aim is dead-accurate and it lands with a wet plap several yards directly in front of her.

Even at this distance, Fred sees her eyes narrow. The vague guilt solidifying in his gut crystallizes into ice. He knows who threw that and he’s already, reflexively, preparing for the necessary damage control—and for Linda, no less. Kelly he was used to, but Linda?

Palmer shifts her weight and fixes the seven of them with a hard stare that lasts long past the point of being uncomfortable. “Don’t go anywhere,” she eventually orders, leveling a finger in their direction. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Without leaving any opportunity for rebuttal, she turns on her heel and swiftly disappears from the deck.

Immediately, Linda’s status light starts blinking rapid-fire green across Blue Team’s HUDs. Kelly follows suit.

“Really?” Fred grumps over TEAMCOM.

“Can you blame her if it worked?” Kelly retorts.

“Yes! You’re making an assumption and setting a bad example.” He switches to his helmet’s speakers. “Gammas, don’t throw things at your commanding officers.”

“Unless you’re sleeping with them,” Kelly adds, with enough tact to keep the comment on Blue Team’s private channel.

Another green light from Linda.

Fred willfully ignores both of them.

“...we’re not in trouble, are we?” Ash removes his helmet and shakes out his hair. “To be honest…I don’t know what just happened.”

Kelly seats herself on a tree stump, legs akimbo, smugness oozing from every seam of her armor. “Palmer’s getting suited up to come play with us.”

Ash seems unconvinced but Mark shrugs. “She’ll balance the numbers. We might even start winning.”

Only Blue Team can see—and appreciate—the red light John flashes in silent response.

**********

As threatened, Palmer returns exactly ten minutes later, fully armored aside from the helmet tucked into the crook of her arm. “Okay, here’s the official story.” She strides up to the group. “We’re running an unorthodox but fully sanctioned training exercise all day.”

“I’ve cleared the schedule and put out an open invitation,” Roland chimes in. “As requested.”

Palmer nods her approval. “Figured I’d let you have your fun on the condition that the rest of us could get in on it too.” She raises an eyebrow. “Sound fair?”

“Fair enough,” Fred answers, echoing the array of green lights on his HUD. “Alright. Ground rules—we’re running blind for this, Commander. No motion trackers.”

She looks pleased. “I like a challenge.”

“If you get hit, you’re out for the round,” he continues. “Once you’re out, you can’t help anyone still standing. Round ends when a whole team goes down.” Fred nods toward the ceiling. “Roland’s keeping score.”

“Huh,” Palmer hums. “So you knew about this, too, Roland?”

“I…was informed the exercise would require a scorekeeper instead of a handler,” the AI answers, somehow managing to achieve the verbal equivalent of tip-toeing. “And I volunteered a mere fraction of my copious attention to the task.”

Palmer just rolls her eyes.

Ash clears his throat and steps forward. “If you wouldn’t mind, ma’am, we’d greatly appreciate it if you joined our team.”

“They’ve been wiping the floor with us,” Olivia adds, somewhat ruefully.

Palmer looks back and forth between Blue Team and the Gammas with a hint of a smirk. “Well.” She slips her helmet on. “Allow me to level the playing field.”

**********

And indeed, the tide began to turn. Quickly. It wasn’t that the Gammas couldn’t hold their own, but Palmer was a different flavor of ruthless and even numbers did make a difference.

Kelly, as Blue Team’s sole survivor, was in the midst of a valiant stand, but she was up against Palmer and Olivia and they were going in for the kill. Up to this point, Kelly had been relying on her speed to evade them, but Fred doubted that would be able to carry her any further.

Palmer and Livi split around the back of the snowbank Kelly had hidden behind, falling into synchronized step with each other, timing their paces perfectly. Palmer’s boots fall heavier and louder, covering Olivia’s near-silent glide around the other side.

The strategy is obvious, at least from Fred’s position of passive observation—Palmer would draw Kelly’s attention, Olivia would come up on her flank and take her out. And it would work, too…on anyone less observant than Kelly. Fred has a feeling she’ll see right through it. But one of them was going to hit her either way, so it didn’t really matter as far as the outcome was concerned.

Surprisingly, a third option presents itself. Fred realizes after a few seconds that he’s been holding his breath, expecting Kelly to explode out of the snow and make a run for it, but…she doesn’t.

Palmer reaches the other side of the snowdrift and slows, confusion evident in her body language. She paces around the area, making sure not to stay still for too long, obviously reluctant to let her guard down completely. Fred can see the hazy mirage of Olivia’s SPI suit still moving in with careful deliberation.

There was no way Kelly could have moved. She hadn’t had enough time. More importantly, she would’ve been spotted if she’d tried to flee, so why couldn’t—

Palmer disappears. One second, she’s standing on the other side of the snowbank, visible from the waist up, and the next second she’s gone. Fred can’t see much of anything, but there are sounds of a scuffle and the blur of camouflaged armor as Livi sweeps in to assist with whatever the hell had just happened.

Barely a breath later, Roland announces the end of the match. “And Gammas-Plus-Palmer emerge victorious! …or should I say Olivia, specifically, seeing as she is the last Spartan standing. You know, you really oughta come up with a better name for your team—”

There’s a burst of indignant exclamations and flustered cursing from Palmer. She reappears only to rip her helmet off and kick some snow back in the direction from which she’d escaped.

Olivia removes her own helmet; Fred is surprised to see her laughing. “She got you good!” There’s a giddiness in her voice that Fred’s never heard before, but she seems to remember who she's talking to a moment later. “...ma’am.”

Kelly pops up beyond the ridge. She remains helmeted but Fred knows there’s a shit-eating grin on her face just from her posture alone.

“What happened?” He shouts the question out loud.

“She buried herself in the fucking snow and pulled my legs out from under me,” Palmer growls as she trudges over.

“And then I hit Kelly point-blank in the face!”

Olivia’s gleeful comment is backed by Kelly’s laughter over TEAMCOM. “Worth it.”

“Hey!” A different voice cuts into the conversation, once again pulling everyone’s attention toward the entrance. “Heard there was some kinda free-for-all goin’ on in here?” Gabriel Thorne stands flanked by the rest of Fireteam Majestic, all in full Mjolnir. “Got room for another team?”

Palmer waves them in. “Come on up, Majestic. We’ll get you briefed on the rules.” She sighs and fits her helmet back on. “Hope you’re ready to get your asses kicked.”

**********

An hour later, after Majestic had carved out a few victories of their own, Crimson shows up. Rules are recounted, home bases are realigned, play resumes. Within another two hours, there are four more Spartan fireteams on the field. Alliances are formed, both openly and secretly. Several hours are devoted to building snow forts. Play evolves. Forts are defended and captured, sabotaged and reinforced.

And then Lasky arrives.

“Captain on deck!” Roland bellows.

The silence that blankets the simulation deck is instantaneous and absolute. Nobody moves. If the snowballs already in flight could have frozen in midair, they probably would’ve. Instead, they land in a chorus of muffled thwumps.

Lasky stands there for a few seconds, small and unimposing by the distant doors, sporting his trademark expression of beleaguered amusement—presumably at being called out. “Don’t stop on my account,” he eventually says. “I just wanted to watch. …unless there’s a team looking for a liability,” he jokes with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Everyone on the field exchanges glances and shrugs. A sea of status lights blink across Fred’s HUD—most amber, some green. Finally, someone from Crimson waves Lasky over. “We’ll take you, Captain!”

He seems genuinely surprised by the invitation, but begins the trek across the snow. “Try not to kill me, alright?”

That draws laughs from most of the Spartans, but it’s John who actually banters back. “No promises, sir.”

[meownotgood]

I wanna have a snowball fight with aki so bad...

not the sad kind, just a fun one.

like it snowed over here again and I kept throwing snowballs at my coworkers and now I just wanna go on a walk with aki and then randomly hit him off gaurd which would just kick off a snowball fight

then once he notices your hands getting cold and you start rubbing them together he'd be all "here." and warm ur hands by cupping his around them and gently blowing until you're better

then you both go in after to warm up, cuddle and drink hot cocoa

celebrating all those winter festivities with aki means so much more to him because it isn't something he's done since he was a kid.

it feels so special to him to have a snowball fight with you, by the end of it he's breathing hard and laughing, his face all red. he hugs you suddenly, squeezing tight, hiding his smile by burying his head in your nape. your whole body starts to feel so much warmer.

aki's just so greatful, he loves you so much, he can't express how happy he is to have you in his life...

[victorluvsalice]

-->And then -- time for a snowball fight! Because, well, it was cold, there was snow on the ground, so why not? XD They all ran around throwing snowballs at each other and having a lovely time for a few rounds (Smiler even getting a happy sentiment with both Victor and Alice about how much fun they were having) – but, unfortunately, Alice’s werewolf instincts interrupted and made her very testy and in need of a nap. *sigh* Darn finicky temperaments... So I ended the fight and let her get in a snooze in the snow by the bar while Victor headed over to the observatory to observe the sky (no new print, unfortunately) and Smiler went looking for frogs in all the frog logs (getting a Striped Leaf, Striped Eggplant, and Striped Dirt -- none of which they actually needed, but at least they can be used for breeding?). Alice woke up once her energy was better and her instincts quieted, then grabbed another plate of meat and cheese before running over to meet Victor and Smiler by the observatory, where they were making more snow angels. Everyone happily came together to spin some noisemakers and throw/blast confetti in honor of the holiday –

Just in time for the date to end on gold level! :D You love to see it. (Though I think all they got out of it was another VIP bucket – I wish that the date rewards were a little more varied!)

-->However, before they went home, I REALLY wanted them to get a cute trio shot together somewhere in the park. You know me and my love of taking in-game pictures of them, after all. :p After looking around (and unsuccessfully trying to direct them all to the same spot in front of one of the fish fountains just off-lot), I decided one of the corner fountains would do and had them head over there via their various teleports. I had Alice get out her tripod, then tried positioning it right outside the gap in the hedges leading to the fountain, hoping that would lead to a good shot. There was the usual trouble in trying to set UP the group shot – a bit of lag, Smiler insisting on presenting some flowers to Victor just before they were to wait for the photographer – but, having learned my lesson from previous attempts, I just shut off autonomy for a while before giving it another go –

Aaaand discovered that the camera was facing at the most awkward angle to the group EVER. XD Now, fortunately, when your camera is on a tripod, you can actually spin it around 360 degrees to get a better angle. UNFORTUNATELY, when I did that, Victor and Smiler were half-behind the hedges, meaning there really was no better angle. *facepalm* I took a few snaps just because I wanted SOMETHING from the date, but I don’t know if any of these will be going up on the wall! At least, not where visitors can see. :p

[ladsofsorrow24]

it's funny how i love tragic ships, but then ended up shipping aki with a character that no one expect to ship him with (at least in the western side of the fandom)

[dagasinfilo]

i am so goddamn scared i’m never gonna be able to get the help i need. and doctors see this and refuse to acknowledge it’s from an observation of my reality rather than the pathology itself. which obviously makes their care ineffective. which keeps feeding the fear that i’m never getting help. and the hospital taking longer and longer and longer to give me a psychiatrist appointment obviously gets me even worse.

[chestersturniolo]

𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊‧₊˚based on chris saying on stream that he can never go to sleep on an argument ‧₊‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

The argument with Chris had been brewing for days, and tonight it finally erupted. It all started when he came home late. Again. The third time this week. You’d been waiting, dinner cold on the table, frustration simmering.

“Do you even care that I’m here waiting for you?” you asked, your voice laced with hurt. “You didn’t even call, Chris”

“I had to finish filming, I’m sorry I can’t just drop everything because dinner’s ready” he mocked with a fake sincerity.

“That’s not the point-” you said, feeling your anger rising. 

“-It’s not about dinner. It’s about you not letting me know, about making me feel like I don’t matter”

Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. It’s just been a crazy week. Can’t you cut me some slack?”

“Cut you some slack?-” you echoed,

“-You’re always busy, always too tired, and I’m supposed to just sit here and wait for you to make time for me? I’m tired of feeling like I’m at the bottom of your list!”

“That’s not fair-” Chris shot back, his tone sharpening. 

“-You know how important my job is. I’m doing this for us, to build a future, but you make it sound like I’m just ignoring you!”

“Well, it sure feels like it!” you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. 

Chris fell silent, the tension thick between you. Finally, unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer, you stormed into his bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

You paced back and forth, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. Eventually, the emotional exhaustion snowballed into physical exhaustion. You got ready for bed whilst you replayed the argument over in your head.

As you crawled under the covers,the bed felt too big, too empty. You turned off the light, hoping sleep would come quickly and take you away from the mess of the evening.

As you lay in the quiet, you could still hear the faint sound of the TV from the living room where Chris had stayed. The space beside you a reminder of the widening gap between you. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block it all out, and slowly, sleep began to take over.

Sometime later, Chris came into his room, and carefully climbed in beside you. He moved gently, clearly trying not to wake you, but his restless tossing and turning made you stir slightly. After a few minutes, he gave up, sitting up with a heavy sigh.

Then, with a gentle touch, he brushed your cheek, his thumb warm against your skin. 

“Hey-” he whispered, his voice thick with regret as you opened your eyes, adjusting them to the darkness. 

“-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you, but I can’t… I can’t go to sleep like this”

The memory of your argument came rushing back, and you felt the anger flare up again. But before you could say anything, Chris continued, his voice urgent, almost desperate.

“I know I messed up-” he said, leaning closer, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. 

“-I’ve been so caught up in work that I’ve been neglecting you, and I hate that I made you feel like you don’t matter. You do. You’re the most important thing in my life”

His words were raw, filled with a vulnerability that you rarely saw in him. He reached for your hand, holding it tightly as if afraid you might pull away.

“Please-“ he whispered, his voice cracking. 

“-I know I need to do better. I just… I can’t stand the thought of us going to bed angry. I can’t go to sleep knowing you’re upset with me ma”

You sighed, your heart heavy. The pain of the argument still lingered, but there was no denying the sincerity in his voice. Chris wasn’t the type to beg, and seeing him like this made the anger start to fall away.

“I don’t want to fight either” you finally said, your voice thick with emotion. 

“But I need you to understan-”

“I do” he said quickly, nodding. 

“I’m sorry” he whispers, brushing his thumb across your hand that is still placed in his. Before gently pulling away and laying back down beside you. 

Chris opens one of his arms in the air hesitantly, a silent invite into his embrace. With a small sigh, you scooted over, laying your head onto his chest. You let him hold you, the warmth of his body gradually soothing the last of your anger.

“i love you y/n” Chris mumbles into your hair as he places a kiss to the top of your head.

“i love you” you whisper, letting sleep take over once more. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

A/N; hope you enjoyed lovessss

spam my inbox with requests!

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST

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@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht

[awearywritersworld]

the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure

gojo satoru x reader summary: title says it all w/c: 1k tags/warnings: ft baby megumi. fluff, then some more fluff. gumi refers to reader as mom. one curse word. brief reference to canon typical violence. a/n: i am ridiculously soft for this man. he needs a hug masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

the first time it happens, it's the dead of winter and you're both still teenagers. it's the year before the star plasma vessel mission, when everything in gojo's life feels like it's falling into place. he has friends, real friends, for the first time in his life.

you drag him, kicking and screaming (it's all for show, he'd go anywhere with you), out to a snow covered field. you innocently beg him to turn off limitless, and of course he acquiesces, only to be pelted in the face with a snowball.

he throws himself into the snow upon impact, arms flailing dramatically. "i'm dead! you've killed me!"

you join him on the ground, arms out stretched and nudging the fabric of his coat. "hm, then i guess i'll have to drink all the hot chocolate by myself-"

"i have returned to the living realm!!" he shouts, shooting up into a sitting position. "had to fight god for it, told 'im i couldn't bear to leave my (y/n)-chan!"

"oh, you are so full of shit," you accuse with an amused smile.

you gaze at one another as the snow falls around you silently, both somehow feeling warm despite the frigidness of the air. his glasses have slipped down his nose, giving you a glimpse at his eyes. you're thinking about how the flakes blend in with his lashes before melting away entirely. he's thinking that he might be in love with you.

~~~

some time passes before the second instance, which takes place in the spring. gojo makes his way around campus, looking for wherever you and megumi ran off to. the small boy has been attached to your hip ever since gojo brought him home two years ago.

when he finds you, you're both splayed out in the grass and pointing up at the clouds.

"that one looks like a dog!" megumi exclaims excitedly.

"and that one looks like it might be his ball, don't you think?" you question. he agrees wholeheartedly with an enthusiastic nod.

after awhile, megumi sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "can we go inside now, mom?"

there's a split second he doesn't realize what he's said, but when it dawns on him, he looks down right scared. "'m sorry!"

your features soften and your heart soars before you're gathering him up in your arms.

"oh, my sweet boy," you coo.

rocking him back and forth, you hold him for a few passing moments. he hides his face in your chest, his hands gripping onto your shirt as if it's his life line.

you pull away just enough to see his face. you'd do anything to stop the tears swimming in his eyes, just like any mother would. "you can call me whatever you like 'gumi."

"p-promise?"

"yup!" you assure, bopping his nose with your pointer finger. it earns a small giggle.

gojo watches as you rise from the ground, megumi's head now resting on your shoulder and his arms around your neck. you're humming as you walk back toward the buildings.

gojo's legs are like lead and his heart feels as if it's shifted up into his throat. for the first time, he thinks about getting married, about having a family. your face is at the forefront of every image that forces itself into his mind.

~~~

the third time happens in the dead of night. megumi is asleep and the two of you decide to watch a movie, but you're yawning before he even presses play.

you sit so close to him that you can feel the warmth radiate from his body and although you fight to keep your eyes open, you can't help but be lulled to sleep.

he tenses for a moment when your head lands squarely on his shoulder. it seems as if you're both frozen, but then you let out a soft snore as your body shifts and your hand moves to his stomach. he finally relaxes.

your hair had fallen across your face and he pushes it back behind your ear so that he can see you. he tries to ignore the urge to brush his fingers across your cheekbone, or over your bottom lip. he fails.

gojo remains still for hours, and it feels strange to the usually hyperactive man, but he's terrified of disturbing you. terrified that you'll pull away from him and he'll never get to feel like this again.

he lets that stupid movie play through twice, but he spends most of the time stealing glances at you. he does eventually turn the tv off and the only sounds that remain are the trill of summer crickets outside his window and your soft, slow breaths.

he has no idea what time it is when he falls asleep, but when he finally does, he dreams about that day in the snow.

~~~

leaves fall at your feet as the two of you make your way down the sidewalk. every now and then, your fingers brush against his and it makes his heart skip a beat. he wonders (hopes?) if anyone has mistaken you for a couple.

you come across a familiar mansion, one that the two of you exorcised together as teenagers. it feels like a lifetime ago. you stop at the gate, a bronze glint on the ground catching your eye.

crouching down, you brush away shades of orange and red to reveal a memorial for all the people who had died on the once cursed property.

"for the lives that were taken here, and for the lost soul who took them... may they rest now in the afterlife."

gojo scrunches his nose, about to make some comment about how pitiful it was to commemorate a cursed spirit, but the words die in his throat when you look up at him with watery eyes.

"this is so beautiful," you remark, turning back to the engraved words.

he shoves his hands in his pockets, peering down to read over the words once more. maybe he'd missed something?

"this community was so fearful, remember? people lost friends and family here." he nods even though you aren't looking at him, watching how your fingertips move across the words as if you're considering them further. "the spirit scared them and it stole from them, but they still regard it with sympathy and kindness.. it takes strength to do that, you know?"

he feels his chest tighten as he registers your words. for a fleeting instance, he feels like an asshole for ever finding it pitiful, but that was the thing. you have such an easy way about you, a sort of gentleness he had yet to find in anyone else. the time he spends in your company seems like the only respite he ever gets from the horrors of the world.

he hasn't answered you yet, so you look back to him expectantly. "don't you think it's beautiful, 'toru?"

god, he could fall to his knees right then and there. he could roll over and die on the chilly concrete and he'd consider it a privilege to have died by your side.

i love you. i love you. i love you. those are the only three words his brain can muster.

"yeah," he finally chokes out. "it really is."

[misswynters]

The Northern Chronicles

Cregan Stark x Arryn!wife!reader

[SYNOPSIS: This is just the beginning of the beautiful story of the Stark Dozen. The legendary family that ruled over the north and who’s children grew to influence all of Westeros.

[WARNING: none

[NOTE | short drabble of cregan and you with your 10 children at winterfell. (aged up to current time however some chapters will include when the children are younger as well) but will become a series! so if you would like to be tagged let me know in the comments.

NEXT: Northern Chronicles: Lady Arryn & Lord Stark

Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky as you and your husband stood in the courtyard of Winterfell, watching your beautiful ten children play in the crisp winter air. The sight of them, bundled in animal furs and laughing as they tumbled through the snow, filled your heart with warmth despite the cold atmosphere.

Edrick, the eldest twin, a tall and sturdy young man with Cregan’s brooding eyes, was engaged in a snowball fight with his younger siblings. His laughter rang out as he dodged a particularly well-aimed snowball from his twin sister, who had inherited your quick wit and fiery spirit.

Selyse, the younger twin, is your eldest daughter, with her wild curls and spirited energy, led a group of her younger siblings in building an elaborate snow fort. The scene was chaotic but joyful, each child contributing their own unique flair to the project.

Cregan, sitting beside you, wrapped his arm around your waist, his presence a solid and comforting anchor in the midst of the winter wonderland. “Look at them,” he said softly, his voice filled with pride. “They’re growing up so quickly.”

You leaned into him, your gaze fixed on the children. “They are. It feels like just yesterday they were learning to walk, and now they’re running through the snow, making memories of their own.”

The two of you shared a moment of quiet contentment, watching as your youngest, barely old enough to walk, took his first wobbly steps in the snow, his siblings cheering him on with enthusiastic shouts.

Your youngest son, Finnian stood in front of you both holding a dead in his tiny arms. “Papa look at me!” The boy said enthusiastically, waving the dead animal around by the tail. Cregans eyes widened at the scene.

“Boy!, put that animal down. Now!” He said in a commanding voice as he stood up to walk towards his son. As an instinct, finnian began to run away, cutting through his siblings snowball fight. The mischievous little boy had the widest smile in his face. You thought it was adorable seeing your husband chase him.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape, you and Cregan gathered the children for a cozy family dinner inside the great hall. The children’s laughter echoed through the halls as they recounted their adventures in the snow, their faces flushed with happiness.

The long wooden table was adorned with hearty fare—roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and rich, steaming stews. The hall was filled with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food, and the warmth of the hearth crackled cheerfully against the cold outside.

With everyone settled at the table, you took a moment to admire the scene. Cregan’s broad shoulders were relaxed as he shared a joke with the older children, while you served the younger ones with a smile. The joyful chaos of a large family dinner enveloped you, a testament to the love and unity that bound you all together.

Amidst the lively conversation and clinking of mugs, a handmaiden named Kyra, who had been assigned to help with the evening’s preparations, entered the hall carrying a fresh platter of meat. Her expression was sour, and her demeanor dismissive. She set the platter down with a huff, casting an impatient glance at the children.

As she turned to leave, she made an offhand comment loud enough for several to hear. “I suppose the Stark children are too busy playing to remember their manners,” she sneered, her gaze landing on your eldest daughter, Selyse.

Your daughter, already sensitive to such slights, stiffened in her seat, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. The room fell silent for a moment, the insult hanging heavily in the air.

Cregan’s eyes narrowed, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You could see the protective anger in his gaze, but before he could speak, you gently touched his arm, signaling him to let you handle it.

Rising from your seat, you approached Kyra with a calm but firm demeanor. “Kyra, it seems there’s been a misunderstanding,” you began, your voice steady. “Our children are the heart of Winterfell, and they deserve respect, as do all who live and work here.”

Kyra’s face flushed with a mix of shame and surprise. “I didn’t mean to—”

You cut her off gently but firmly. “I understand. But please remember, everyone here is valued, and our children are no exception.”

Turning back to your daughter, you offered her a reassuring smile. “Come, sit with me,” you said softly, guiding her to a seat next to you. The warmth of your presence seemed to ease her tension, and she gave you a grateful, if slightly embarrassed, smile.

The dinner resumed with a renewed sense of camaraderie, the earlier tension slowly dissipating as the children continued to share their stories and laughter. Kyra, now noticeably more subdued, moved quietly through the hall, her previous rudeness replaced by a more respectful demeanor.

As the evening wore on and the stars began to twinkle outside the grand windows, you and Cregan watched as your children interacted with each other and the rest of the household staff. The hall was once again filled with the joyous sounds of family, and despite the brief moment of discord, the evening had restored its warm and loving atmosphere.

Cregan squeezed your hand under the table, his eyes filled with appreciation. “Thank you,” he murmured. “For handling that so gracefully.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “We’re a family, and their respect is very important, especially when it matters most.”

As the night drew to a close and the children’s laughter faded into sleepy murmurs, you and Cregan stood together, the echoes of the day’s joy lingering in the air. The love that filled Winterfell was a testament to the strength and unity of your family—a family that, despite its challenges, would always stand strong and united under the watchful gaze of the stars.

Next | Lady Arryn & Lord Stark

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @travelingmypassion @shoxji @thornsandtulips @spn-obession @giovanna-hyt @r-3dlips

banner: by @cafekitsune

[azrielandhisshadows]

winter's kiss

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.2k (I tried to make this shorter, but I'm a yapper)

warning: over-protective, older brother, Kallias

summary: the reader has lived a sheltered life under her brother, Kallias, the high lord of the Winter Court. when the reader is given the opportunity to go to the Dawn Court for the High Lords meeting, she is ecstatic. While there, she meets the most of the Inner Circle and one of those members will change her life

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

__

Light reflecting from the snow outside blinded you as you stepped out onto your balcony. Despite living in the Winter Court your entire life, you have never gotten used to the views of the snow-capped mountains and the city sprawling beneath you. You only wish you could see what was beyond the snow-capped mountains. 

Your older brother, Kallias, had always been determined to keep you safe from the dangers lurking outside your home. During Amarantha’s reign, he kept you hidden, and all you knew of the terrors she inflicted on your people were whispers. Even after her defeat and the stories of a human who had freed Prythian, your life remained firmly within the confines of the Winter Court.

You sat in the corner of your room, reading one of the many books that have allowed you to imagine the world outside of the Winter Court. Stories of fierce warriors that protected their people from outside danger, much like the threat of Hybern that loomed on the periphery. Your heart sank at the thought of another threat plaguing your home. Another threat that you were powerless to stop.

A knock sounded at your door and Kallias and Viviane entered your room. Viviane directed her attention to the book you held in your hands and gave you a sympathetic smile, knowing how you desired to escape your sheltered life. Your brother cleared his throat and looked uneasy as he said, “Y/N, we have decided to bring you with us to the Dawn Court for the High Lords’ meeting.”

Your breath left you at your brother’s announcement. Viviane’s gaze met your own with a satisfied smile, knowing that she had persuaded her mate to allow you to attend this meeting with them. Shooting up from your chair, you wrapped your brother in your arms, holding him tightly, “Kallias, thank you. This is fantastic! What do I need to do during the meeting?”

Kallias’s stoic demeanor softened as he returned the hug, ruffling your hair affectionately. “Easy there. You don’t need to do anything specific. You’re my best-kept secret, and I want the High Lords to see that I trust them—and that I trust you. Just be yourself.”

You pulled away slightly, a playful smirk on your lips. “Best-kept secret? That’s better than being your biggest embarrassment, I suppose.”

Kallias rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Oh, very funny. Just try not to make me regret this decision. We don’t need a repeat of that time you tried to help me with diplomatic correspondence and nearly signed us up for a snowball fight in the city.”

Laughter erupted from you and Viviane and you nudged Kallias’s shoulder, “I promise there will be no accidental diplomatic disasters, but I might bring up how the High Lord of the Winter Court lost said snowball fight.” Kallias chuckled, shaking his head. “I would expect nothing less from you, but you need to get packed. We leave in the morning.” Kallias gave you a quick hug and left to oversee final preparations.

Viviane lingered in your room, her warm presence a stark contrast to the cool air outside. “Let’s get you packed. We have a lot to prepare for and I want you to be able to enjoy everything the Dawn Court has to offer.”

Night passed into morning and you were unable to sleep due to the excitement of your awaiting departure for the Dawn Court. A golden hue broke through your curtains signaling that it was time to leave. You met Kallias and Viviane in Kallias’s office as they were going over final details. Viviane looked at you expectantly. “How are you feeling, Y/N? 

You look between the mated couple, your heart beating out of your chest. “I’m as ready as I can be. Let’s go!” Kallias chuckled at your enthusiasm. Receiving a nod from Viviane, he raised his hand and enveloped the three of you in a sparkling blue. You felt the frigid air of the Winter Court begin to dissipate and was replaced by a warm breeze unlike anything you had felt before. Blossoming flowers and chatter from the halls reached your ears as you took in the sunlit room you were winnowed into. A squeal pierced your ears and you looked over in time to see a tall blonde embrace Viviane in a hug. 

“Mor, how I’ve missed you.” Viviane said to the female, returning her hug with equal excitement. Viviane and Mor separated from their embrace, both wearing wide smiles from the reunion. “Viviane, you look fantastic! I’m so excited that you’re here,” Mor’s gaze glanced to your wide-eyed frame, still taking in your new surroundings, “Who is this?”

You looked at the beautiful female and reached out a hand, “I’m Y/N. I’m Kallias’s sister.” Mor looked in between the three of you with shock lining her features. 

“Kallias, I did not know you had a sister.” 

Kallias’s cold features looked at the bright-eyed female and looked at you protectively, “No one outside of the Winter Court does.” Mor looked uncomfortable as Kallias placed a protective hand on your shoulder. You peered behind Mor’s to the group she came with and you saw three striking males with large, membranous wings behind them, their tan skin and dark hair making them stand out. One of the females looked at you, confusion lining her features, trying to figure out who you were.

Mor’s gaze followed yours, and she stepped aside to reveal the group behind her. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the Inner Circle.”

The first to step forward was a male with an aura of effortless confidence. His violet eyes pierced into you as he extended a hand with a grin. “I’m Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Your jaw dropped as you hesitantly accepted his hand. Rhysand, the most powerful high lord in Prythian and the one who was rumored to have killed the Winter Court children.

Seeing your discomfort, Rhysand’s smile faltered slightly. “I assure you, I didn’t harm those children. I understand if you’re wary, but I hope we can start fresh.”

His words carried a sincerity that eased your anxiety a bit. As he introduced you to the rest of his court, Cassian’s boisterous welcome and Feyre’s warm smile helped to soften the tension. Yet, it was Azriel who captured your focus completely. As his shadowy tendrils brushed against your arm, an unexpected wave of nausea surged through you. Your vision blurred momentarily as an intense, disorienting sensation swept over you.

Kallias and Viviane were instantly by your side, their concern palpable. “Y/N, are you alright?” Viviane’s voice was filled with worry, her hand gently resting on your back.

You struggled to steady yourself, unable to tear your eyes away from Azriel. His face was a mask of shock, his usually composed demeanor fractured. When he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath, it was as if the room itself fell silent, drawing all attention to his words. “Mate. You’re my mate.”

The weight of his revelation settled over you like a tangible force. The golden thread of connection that linked you both was almost visible, a shimmering bond that pulled at your very essence.

Mate.

[solbaby7]

Killing Me Softly

pairing: cassian x reader

[ part 2 ]

warnings: swearing, violence, blood, jealous themes, angst

summary: [based off that episode in greys were Mer got beaten by that patient who didn’t remember anything when they woke up]

—

It had started out as a normal fight.

Something small and fixable.

But somewhere along the way, things had snowballed and the playful Cassian you’d always known had disappeared before your very eyes. “You have a responsibility,” His tone is firm; slightly condescending and you can feel the attitude beginning to form when his arms cross over his chest. Cassian shoulders squared out, spine straight and wings pulled taut as he stood his ground. “The answer is no.”

“Cass, you’re not even listening. I told you I had this planned a week ago,” It comes out rushed, brows furrowed as you tried to meet something else besides that hard wall behind hazel eyes. “Besides it’s the med wing, they always have volunteers coming in to help—it’s just one date.”

“This really isn’t up for discussion,” His steely exterior nearly crumbles to pieces when he sees the way you visibly deflate, fingers grazing over the pretty dress you’d spent three days searching for with Mor and Cass had to pretend to be thrilled when you came barreling through his bedroom door with it in hand. You were beaming, smile so wide he thought your cheeks would split in two. “Now, go get changed.”

Guilt bubbles in his belly at the sight of you, jaw clenched tight and eyes blinking furiously to push back the frustrated tears; you had been really excited. You say nothing when you breeze past him, making sure not to touch him or make eye contact when you disappear back where you came and Cass doesn’t even need to turn around to know the way Azriel is looking at him. “Thought you said the med-wing was fully staffed? Easy day, you said.”

“Don’t even start.”

“It was just one date, she bought a dress and everything.” Az doesn’t buckle at the remorse that begins to scrunch at hard features, hands that clench and unclench at his sides as Cass battled a war that didn’t take prisoners. “If you won’t act on your feelings for her then leave her be so she can be happy.”

“Seriously, mind your fucking business.” Cassian all but snarls, golden eyes like burning lava when regarding his brother; the words hitting much harder than and punch. “She had a job to do and she’ll be here doing it. We don’t have time for stupid dresses and dates when people are dying.”

You don’t speak when you re-emerge in something more sturdy, medical equipment neatly organized in a bag that you held loosely in one hand. A whole folder of papers had been shoved in your grasp from a brooding General, inky hair flying away from his face when the wind cut through on his speedy departure. Frustration builds but you don’t allow it to overcome you, ignoring Azriel’s inquisitive stare, arms crossed over his chest and thick leathers hugging muscular thighs. “You okay?”

You sigh, gesturing to the stack of papers while you begin down the hall. “I’m busy.”

Times flows significantly slower now that you’re aware you’re missing something of importance; you’d really been looking forward to dressing up. Taking special time on your hair and the dark kohl that Mor insisted would make your eyes pop. The bittersweet daydream of what could’ve been is interrupted by the ruffled patient, his body covered in a serious of wrappings and notes near his side table on the tonics he’d been given—heavy duty sedatives and even stronger pain alleviants. Dosages so high there was no was he should’ve been moving, eyes blinking into consciousness and slurred speech stumbling from his tongue. “Where am I?”

“Sir, it’s okay just relax. I’m only here to help.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” Your hands are gentle when they reach out for him in attempts to soothe but it only makes him more agitated, arms whipping around wildly and his volume steadily increases. “Who are you? Why am I here?”

“Sir, please. If you just calm down I can explain—you were hurt, I’m only here to help.”

Rational thought and logic make no home in the frantic patients mind, his terrifyingly sturdy grip latches onto your shoulder. You’re jostled in close, bandages and antiseptic falling from your grasp and you only have time for one sharp yelp before his hands are wrapped around your neck. It takes alarmingly little effort for him to get to his feet, slamming your form down on the cot he’d been recovering in for days. Broken noises pull from your throat, nails scratching at his arms and face and whatever skin you can get your hands on, punching and kicking and reaching for anything to help and just as a black spots line your vision you finally get a good kick in, enough to push you from his hands and your body tumbles to the floor with a thud.

Deep heaving breaths pull from you, sucking in as much oxygen as your lungs will allow and tears you didn’t even realize you’d let out are streaming down the curve of your cheeks as you struggle to gain your footing, to get out of the room but hands are back around your arms. A broken cry fills the air when your face is shoved into the wall, heavy weight pushing you over and over until blood pooled from your temple and choked noises caught in your throat.

You can’t even remember when it stopped, a darkness overtaking you but even that’s abruptly ripped away from you for what feels like just seconds later. Someone screaming, strangled, pain filled shouts when you feel a set of hands on your body, lifting you from the floor and setting you on a cool table. “She’s awake,” You hear Madja firmly speak, hands quick yet sturdy when reaching into her bag to pull out medical grade scissors. “Anyone not necessary needs to leave.”

“She’s family, we aren’t leaving her.” Azriel retorts even stronger, leaving no room for discussion and you can feel the warmth of his hands on your own when he looks down at you. “You’re going to be okay, we’re here. We’re all here.”

You can’t even form words, eyes watery and panicked when darting between both of his own and the grip you have on his fingers when the healer pressed down on your abdomen is enough to have him barking at her for pain relief. “I can’t just give her things without a full assessment.”

“Assess faster—she’s in too much pain.”

Everything goes in one ear and out the other; you keep trying to speak, to beg them to please stop poking there and prodding at that bruise and asking if it hurt there, because it hurt everywhere. Broken whines pull from your throat, chest heaving and limbs trembling so hard the table shook. “I can feel three—no four broken ribs, collarbone fracture on the right side, shoulders dislocated on the right as well.” Madja begins, voice almost void of any emotion as she drifts from a person to a woman in charge. The High Lord in standing near your head, murmuring encouraging words while soaking in the information, a grim expression shared between him and the shadowsinger. “Damage to the brain is possible with such intense trauma to her head; two males had to physically pull the patient off of her.”

“Why would he even do this?” Rhys takes the warm cloth handed to him and gently begins to drag it over your forehead, trying his best to comfort you through the agony. “She’s harmless—she wouldn’t have hurt a fly.”

“It was the first time he’d been lucid since we’d found him; he doesn’t even remember what happened.”

Half a dozen more healers filter in the room with handfuls of equipment, eyes filled with worry when regarding one of their own but they quickly shake it off and step into line to assist. Azriel snarls at Madja’s words, stomach clenching in disdain at the helpless groans you let out, head lolling from side to side, tears treading trails into your hair as the pain overwhelms you.

Madja skims a knuckle over your jaw on accident when accessing the harsh bruising at your throat and the yelp that pulls is absolutely devastating. “Grab the restraints and hold her down,” The healer commands to the others, insisting they wrap them tighter while ignoring the deep shouts of the two males guarding you like their lives depended on it. “Her jaw is broken,” A heavy sigh pulls from Madja, dark hair tightly braided behind her shoulders. “—I have to set it and it won’t be fun so help me or get out of the room so we can do our jobs.”

Rhysand’s fingers are running through your hair, Azriel’s thumb rubbing soothing circles along the back of your hands and you feel the exact moment they both go stiff, heads turning to face the towering figure that stuttered to a stop in the doorway. “I’ll hold her arms,” The shadowsinger holds your arms with a firmness you hadn’t experienced from him before, soft apologies being whispered into your ears when your heart rate surges. “Cass, hold her legs. She needs to be still.”

The General doesn’t move, eyes wide and mouth hung open when he takes in your form. The clothes that were cut from your body, the countless amounts of thick gauze and medical towels soaked with your blood pooling in piles on the floor. Warbled streaks of crimson red is a stark contrast against the white floors; the smeared print of ten fingers and two palms drag along the wall, the small side table and the around door handle—you’d just nearly gotten away. “Cassian,” Azriel snaps, the rough tone ripping him from his trance. “Hold down her legs, now.”

The shock doesn’t wear off even if he does do as he’s told, golden eyes stuck on every bruise, ears painfully attuned to every whimper, every cry and gut-wrenching scream when your jaw was forced open, the bone shifting with a deafening crunch. “Please, please, please.” You barely get the words out; speech slurred, sweat lacing your forehead, body shaking so hard from the pain you couldn’t tell what was up from down. “Please, make it stop. Please, I’ll do anything—please stop.”

“Give her something!” Rhys snapped, wiping away tears and bracing you from moving around too much.

Madja scoffs, outnumbered and overwhelmed she calls for a tonic, allowing a higher dose than normal and your relief is instant. Deep cries fade to drawn out whimpers before your whole form goes eerily limp. “This will not be an easy recovery; if you think that was bad, just wait.” Quick hands make work of setting your shoulder with a sharp jolt and another healer is wrapping it in thick bandages to keep it in place. “Why was she even in here? The form specifically stated that supervision was required for this patient—she shouldn’t have been alone.”

“She shouldn’t have been here at all,” One of the healers muttered under her breath, hands quick and careful when tucking your hair behind your ear and dabbing your face clean of the blood that had started drying. “—she had a date today. I took this shift for her so she could go. She’s been talking about it all week.”

A silence fills the room and Rhys follows the sharp stare Azriel had trained on the General who’d been stuck in place at your feet. His hands shake where they rest near your calves, gaze seemly stuck on the socks you wore, fabric torn and stained in your own blood and he can just picture how hard you’d struggled trying to escape. Cassian says nothing, not when the others seem to catch on; putting together a piece of the puzzle in his silence—the shock that settles in every pore and the guilt that radiated from his burly form.

He only watches as they collect the soiled gauze off the floor, antiseptic filling the space when they begin to scrub your handprints off the wall, sweeping up the drywall that gave way from the pure strength put into smashing your body to pieces. “Four broken ribs,” Azriel’s voice is unnervingly calm when the last of the healers filter out, the door shutting behind with a soft click. “—a fractured collarbone; she was thrown into the wall so hard her shoulder popped out of socket.” Rhys takes a step forward, a hand raised to stop the shadowsinger but he’s sharply cut off, Az’s tone getting just a bit deeper when he stalks towards Cassian like predators did their prey. “He nearly shattered her skull—she’d be dead if it weren’t for one of the other patients. They heard her scream and found me.” Inky shadows slink around Azriel’s shoulders, but it’s the hand that pushes Cassian a step away from you that finally gains his attention.

“Azriel—“ Rhysand begins to intercept but abruptly pauses when the spymaster continues, fingers pointed at the leader of the Night Courts armies.

“You made her stay today because you were jealous.”

The High Lord goes still, violet eyes sliding from one friend to the other. “What?”

“She had a date and Cass was jealous because he has feelings for her and is too afraid to say anything.” Azriel can’t seem to stop once he’s started; such pure rage burning beneath his skin at the selfishness that resulted in such unimaginable pain.

“You think any of that matters right now?” Cassian doesn’t even sound like himself; no booming voice or need to make his point, no logical facts and carefully thought out points. He can’t even stop looking at you, eyes glassy and shoulders slumped when remembering what you’d looked like just two hours earlier. “I thought I didn’t deserve her before but now—after this? I know I don’t.”

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Snow Bunny | Azriel x Reader

Summary: After the bat boys enjoy their annual snowball fight, in which Azriel wins, he gets the best prize of all, a night alone with his mate.

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, p in v penetration, nudity, violent snowball rock assault (rip cassian), and tooth rotting fluff.

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing smut, so go easy on me lol, was just in another feening-over-azriel mood and needed to write, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

It was a cold winter, though all of the winters in Night Court were cold. Compared to Illyrian winters, Azriel supposed that they weren’t too bad. Illyrian winters had everyone shivering and shaking and doing anything for the littlest bit of warmth. Night Court winters usually yielded a bit of snow, maybe a foot or two if the Mother was feeling generous, for the children, or in this case, grown Illyrian males, to play in.

The annual snowball fight began as usual, they built their snow forts, packed them densely, or at least Azriel always did, and went to work making snowballs.

He would admit that using his shadows to make snowballs for him did seem like cheating, but who is he to not use his resources?

Rhys and Cassian went head to head first, predictably, and after hurling snowballs densely packed at each other as hard as they could, their tanned skin was left tinted red and a few bruises. The killer blow was when Cassian hurled a final one at Rhys, and this snowball was packed full of ice in the center.

It knocked the High Lord straight out.

Cassian let out a whoop of victory, but a bit too early, as Azriel then launched a massive snowball with a rock in the center at him, payback, and a guarantee of victory apparently as Cassian then collapsed backward on the snow with a soft groan.

Both Nesta and Feyre came out, not too worried as they were very used to their mates’ shenanigans. Feyre helped drag Rhys into the house, while Nesta fought with Cassian, who was mumbling about how he was “perfectly fine”.

“Really…’m okay, jus’ a few more minutes..”

He mumbled, clearly out of it. Nesta grabbed his legs and began dragging him away.

“You are going inside. I am not letting you die because of a snowball fight of all things.”

Her stern tone rang out, dragging him into the house after Feyre managed to get Rhys inside. Azriel followed soon after.

*********************************************************

You went to the door to drag Azriel back inside but were instead met with the sight of him entering, and you ran smack into his chest. You shuddered slightly at how cold and wet he was. His lips were chapped, crusty, and dry. You pulled your tube of lip gloss out and applied a generous amount on his lips, before leaving a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m assuming you won?”

You asked in an amused tone, glancing over at Cassian and Rhys being dragged away by their mates. Azriel chuckled, the deep sound sending a thrill through your body, before replying with a little smirk.

“Yes, per usual.”

You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Quit being a cocky bastard, and let’s go get you in a hot bath. You’re freezing.”

He gave a little huff of laughter at your quip, before following as his mate dragged him off to their shared bedroom. Your intentions were far from pure, and you wanted much more than a bath, but only if he was willing to provide that. He might be tired.

“Are you sure you want me to take a bath?”

He asked, a knowing glint in his eye as he pushed the door to your shared bedroom closed, locking it painfully slowly, ensuring that the noise would echo through her brain and rattle it.

He began slowly stalking towards you with a predatory, feline grace, his wings flaring behind him in what you could recognize as a symbol of both dominance and desire. Even his shadows seemed eager, slithering up your body as far as he allowed them, their cool touch both soothing your skin and causing goosebumps to rise.

“Maybe a bath isn’t so necessary.”

You said, your voice more feeble than you’d like it to be, swallowing as you sat on the edge of your large bed, with him moving to stand right in front of you and look down at you with nothing short of a lover’s gaze.

“Good. I love our annual snowball fights, but do you know what I love more..?”

He asked in his rich baritone voice, smiling slightly as he pushed you gently back onto the bed, settling over you as he let his hands roam your soft, warm body. His hands went from your thighs, back up to your hair and face, then back to your inner thigh as his leg nudged your knees to open.

As any sensible person would do, you spread your legs for him easily. You'd gotten to a point within the mating bond that submitting to him was as easy as breathing.

“..No, what?”

You asked, your voice wavering slightly as your cheeks flushed, watching him with wide eyes. The arousal in both of your scents could easily be detected. His hand stopped around the waistband of your pants, tugging them off, and the rest of your clothing was soon to go.

Eventually, his large hands began palming your breasts, rubbing your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. He leaned down near your ear, prolonging his answer as long as possible to build your curiosity and the tension before he spoke.

“My mate.”

He answered simply, his hot breath fanning against your ear, before his mouth moved down to latch onto one of your pert nipples, alternating between swirling his tongue around it and sucking. The sheer dominance and possession in his statement made your desire pool as your heavy breathing turned to light mewls and moans, whining to him.

His mouth then switched from your right nipple to your left, continuing his sinful sucking, before separating with a little ‘pop’ as he smirked up at you.

His hand had trailed down to his leathers, unbuttoning his shirt before pulling it off, if only to give you a little taste of the eye candy he truly was beneath his clothes. One hand reached down to your panties, and ran a finger over them, nearly purring in delight.

“Already so wet? I must've put on quite a show tonight.”

He murmured against your chest as one of his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties and tugged them down, before throwing them onto the floor with the rest of your clothes. His fingers slid through your wet folds, before beginning to playfully taunt your clit, rubbing just enough for some pleasure, but never enough for any real friction.

One of his fingers slid over to your slit, gathering all the slick that waited there for him, and he coated his fingers in it before slipping it in, easily going knuckle-deep.

“I’m gonna stretch you out, okay? Gonna get you ready for my cock.”

He said with a small smirk in a soft, almost whispered voice, that had deep currents of lust and desire running not far under it. Soon, one finger turned into two pumping in and out, curling into that delicious spot while you whined because of the stretch. The whines soon turned to moans and begging him for more.

“Az, need more..”

You begged, your hips already starting to buck on instinct and try to grind against his fingers.

“I’ll give you more in due time, darling.”

He replied simply. And then a third finger was slipped in, his thumb still running sinful circles and applying just the right amount of pressure to your clit. In no time you were already slipping so, so close to the edge, and he let you get there, rubbing faster and harder until you fell apart around his fingers with a cry.

His fingers continued working you, prolonging your pleasure as much as possible before slipping out when the high had ended. However, you could hear the sound of his leathers slipping off, and when you opened your hazy eyes, you saw a glimpse of his cock, throbbing, the tip pink and leaking, begging for attention. He stroked himself a few times, hissing at the feeling, before running it through your folds thrice to get it soaked and ready.

“Ready? Take a deep breath for me and relax, darling.”

He whispered softly into your ear, and you could feel his tip prodding at your entrance before slowly inching in. No matter how many times you took him, the sheer size of his dick always managed to surprise you.

The stretch immediately took over your senses, making you whine against him. It was a mixture of pleasure and irritable pain that you didn’t want to admit how much you enjoyed.

After what felt like hours of soft, whispered reassurances and praise of how good you were doing for him, and how warm and tight you were, he had finally bottomed out. You immediately jerked your hips against him, breath leaving you at how delicious it felt.

“Please move, Az. Need you to.”

You said, your breathing already shaky. You weren’t going to last long, and from the way he was already groaning and throbbing in you, he wasn't going to either.

He pressed himself against you, beginning a slow and steady rhythm as he moved against you, groaning lewdly into your ear. His place turned to sloppy, loving thrusts as he just began going with instinct.

“You gonna cum with me, sweet girl? Yeah?”

He asked in a breathless tone, panting for air. The moment you hit your climax, your walls clenching and throbbing around his cock, letting you feel every particular inch and vein as it moved inside of you, he also came, thick ropes of his seed shooting deep into you, both of your moans and groaning making a chorus with the sounds of wet squelching and skin slapping skin as he painted your insides white.

You both just laid there for a moment, content to enjoy the afterglow, and as soon as it came down, Azriel was there for his usual godly aftercare.

“Bath?”

He asked, voice raspy and somewhat gruff from all his noises. You gave a wordless nod, and he picked you up, carrying you over to the bathtub and starting a warm bath, easing both of you into it.

He knew your entire haircare routine to the smallest details, and his shadows, still a bit pouty that he hadn’t let them participate in your session, seemed eager to help as you felt their cool touch against your scalp, then moving on to wash your body with your favorite scent of body wash.

You washed his hair, scrubbing shampoo in, then washed out and followed by conditioner, before the shadows helped you clean him off. A few of them helped ‘clean’ his very sensitive cock, causing Azriel to hiss at the feeling and tell them to stop, which only made you and the shadows giggle.

When you finally got out of the bath, you didn’t bother to put on any clothes, and neither did he. You enjoyed the moments of bare skin-to-skin contact with him.

Curled up in the bed, laying beside him with your arms around him, one of his arms around her waist, and his wings curled protectively around you, you whispered something to him.

“I love you.”

You whispered, voice soft and a bit raspy from earlier. He opened one eye, peeking at your serene face, before whispering back with a smile on his lips.

“I love you, too.”

[domjaehyun]

the boy is mine (l.dh) — part four

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader (jeno x reader as well in this part) GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 19.8k 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 four!! 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 :)

“Honestly? I think you’re fucked.” Seulgi announces plainly, and you gasp. “Casanova got you, and you’re hooked. It’s over for this friend group as we know it.”

“We—I’m not—girl, fuck you!” you huff, throwing a piece of popcorn at her.

“I’m right!” 

“Your pessimistic ass can sit over there and shut up while the rest of us try to fix this.” you huff, crossing your arms.

“Babe, I don’t know if this is fixable, though.” Yunjin chimes in gently, and you frown deeply. “He clearly doesn’t want to stop any time soon and, evidently, neither do you.”

“I tried,” you croak out, and Yunjin shushes you sweetly.

“I know—”

“He wanted to talk to me in person!” you bemoan, throwing your hands up.

“Should’ve said no.” Seulgi replies with a shrug, and you glare at her.

“I did, actually.”

She shrugs again, inspecting her nails. “Should’ve meant it.”

You stare at her for a moment before slowly bringing your finger up to point at her. “Now you look here, wench.”

“Wench is outrageous.” she snorts, but you ignore her.

“I’ve had enough of your mouth!”

“And I’ve had enough of the adultery, actually, yet here we are.” she counters, and you pause, shocked. “Like how much longer are we going to hear about you and Haechan sneaking around, and how much longer am I supposed to smile in that poor girl’s face like I don’t know everything I know?”

The room is silent in the wake of Seulgi’s outburst, and you look down at your hands uncomfortably. There’s nothing to say, frankly, because she’s right.

“And Chae, I’m really shocked at you; you’re the closest person to Winter and you’re okay with all this?”

Chaewon blinks, stunned by the sudden shift in attack, and discomfort settles on her face. “This isn’t about me.”

“Yeah, she’s just being a good friend—”

“To you. Don’t we think Winter could use a good friend or two?” Seulgi stresses, and you sit up in your spot on the couch.

“Seulgi, you’re literally here. You’re here! You’re here with the cheater! The adulterer, the man-stealer, and you’re here with her enabling friends and you, up until just now, have been one of the said friends!” you counter, and Seulgi just huffs, crossing her arms in her spot. “So don’t act like you’ve been against this all along when in reality your conscience developed, like, five minutes ago.” 

The air is thick with tension now after you’ve finished speaking, and it’s Seulgi’s turn to look uncomfortable.

“I just feel so bad for her.” she admits, and you sigh heavily. 

“I do, too. You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to fight this. He’s just so…”

“Annoying?”

“Insistent?”

“Irritating?”

“Determined.” you settle on, rolling your eyes at your friends’ unhelpful suggestions. “He’s determined. He’s confident practically every single time he comes up to me that he’s gonna get me and, I don’t know, I guess it makes my resolve waver.”

“I feel like if you didn’t like him, this wouldn’t be an issue. It’d be a hell of a lot easier to reject the advances of a man you decidedly do not want.” Seulgi says, sounding much calmer than before, and some of the tension in the room dissipates.

“I feel like we established she likes him, like, the night before she tried to end things.” Chaewon chimes in, and you immediately exclaim in protest.

“I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to.” Yunjin interjects, looking at you with a “duh” expression. “It was obvious.”

“To everyone but me, I guess.” you mutter petulantly, and your imminent sulking session is interrupted when all of your phones go off around the same time, and you all look at each other in confusion. You reach for your phone and open it, reading the notification. “Speak of the devil.” you chuckle as your friends open their phones to see Haechan’s message to the group chat.

haechan [20:09] guys my job gave me a voucher for a free wine tasting and i can bring friends 😎 who wants to go with me tomorrow?

“Oh, a wine tasting sounds fun,” Chaewon says, intrigued, and you purse your lips in thought.

“I don’t know if we should get two secret lovers in the same friend group tipsy at the same time.” Seulgi says slowly, and you frown at her.

“It’s a couple glasses of wine,” you explain with a roll of your eyes, “not twelve shots of Casamigos.”

Your phones go off again, and you all read the new reply.

winter [20:12] ooh that sounds fun! i’m down after work :)

“Well…we could leave it as a date for them?” Yunjin tries hopefully, looking around at you all. 

jeno [20:14] sure i’m in

mark [20:15] me too

[chenle liked “me too”]

chenle [22:17] what car is gonna take all our tipsy asses home?

“Well, so much for that.” Yunjin sighs in defeat. 

seulgi [22:18] there are uber xls that can fit 9 passengers :)

“Seulgi, you’re not helping!” Yunjin scolds, and she frowns up at you all.

“I supplied key and relevant information. I helped.” she replies stubbornly. “Plus, I like wine.”

chaewon [22:20] i’m excited :p

“So, we’re not even consulting each other anymore?” you remark incredulously, narrowing your eyes at Chaewon, who sticks her tongue out at you. “Fine.”

you [22:23] yeah yeah yeah drank in my cup or whatever kirko bangz said

you [22:23] what time are we thinking of going?

haechan [22:24] we’ll all be done with work by 6:00, right? why not meet up somewhere and take an uber to get there by 6:30? it’s a little out of the way but it’s good stuff trust me

yunjin [22:26] sounds good to me. can we meet up at your place, haechan?

chenle [22:27] excuse me i live there too 

chenle [22:27] MY NAME IS ON THE LEASE AGREEMENT

yunjin [22:29] who are you yelling at? 😒

chenle [22:29] ………………………..no one 😞

[yunjin liked “………………………..no one 😞”]

“Okay, well, now that’s happening.” you mutter, locking your phone.

“You really can’t catch a break, huh?” Yunjin laughs, but it sounds a bit sad, her brows furrowed sympathetically.

“Apparently not.” you mumble defeatedly, drumming your fingers on your knee. Your phone goes off again, and you look around, but apparently it’s just yours this time and, after checking it, you sigh softly.

haechan [22:32] can’t wait to see you tomorrow 💖

“Definitely not, actually.” you say to yourself.

The vineyard itself is beautiful, the beautiful, sunny spring day only enhancing its majesty, and it’s all you can do not to marvel openly at the wooden yet elegant architecture and the seemingly endless rows of wine grapes to be harvested.

”You’re gonna catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that.” Haechan murmurs playfully as you all follow the hostess to your table.

“Oh, hush,” you huff, but you close your mouth nonetheless. You reach your table, which is long, wooden, and oval-shaped, and all of you move to sit, with you ending up between Mark and, unsurprisingly, Haechan.

The hostess passes out a leaflet to each of you and explains, “Our wine tasting is a bit more interactive than most; you can make selections on the leaflet of which wines you’d like to try for which rounds, and the notes of each wine is listed below for your consideration. We’ll give you all a moment to make your selections and one of our servers will come back and collect them so we can get started.”

As you fill out your leaflet, you can’t help but feel Haechan’s nosy eyes peering over your shoulder at your choices.

”This isn’t a test, Haechan, you don’t need to copy me.” you snicker, and he just sticks his tongue out at you and continues to observe you, making you increasingly more unsettled and ready to snap by the minute. It’s when Haechan makes a disapproving hum at your next selection that you set your pen down and turn to face him.

”Can I help you, Judgy Pants?” you ask, and he offers a small secretive smile in return.

”Do you trust me?” he asks, and you pause.

”Not particularly.” you say slowly, and he winces. “Why?”

“First of all, ouch.” he complains, placing a hand over his chest like he’s been wounded, and you giggle. “Second of all, we’re at a wine tasting and wine is literally my job and field of expertise, so… do you trust me to pick your wines for you?”

Your brows furrow slightly before you say, “I mean, I haven’t told you anything about what I like and don’t like in wine.”

”So?” he asks, shrugging.

”So,” you continue, rolling your eyes, “how would you have any idea what I’d like?”

It’s apparently Haechan’s turn to roll his eyes as he regards you, murmuring, “You think that with all the time I spend focused—no, fixated—on you, I would have absolutely no idea of what you might like to drink?”

You balk at his plain, unashamed admission and feel warmth starting to bloom in your cheeks. “Okay,” you finally agree. “Well, in that case, go for it.” 

You move to pass him your leaflet, but he just leans over, bogarting your personal space, and remains unreasonably close as he circles the wines he thinks you’ll like. Whether he notices the way you inhale sharply and stiffen in place or not, he doesn’t comment, seemingly focused on filling out your leaflet.

The server arrives shortly after to collect all of your leaflets and leaves once more to bring out your first round of wines, returning a couple of moments later with two trays of drinks which she gingerly sets down in the center of your table before passing out each wine glass individually.

As you bring your glass to your lips, Haechan watches intently, brows raised in anticipation. The wine is delicious—it’s sweet and bubbly and fruity and you smile subconsciously, unknowingly provoking a relieved and satisfied grin from Haechan.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” he asks knowingly, and you nod excitedly, sipping eagerly at the glass again but slowly enough that you can still savor it. 

“That really was so good,” you hum, content as you finish the last of your glass and set it down earlier than everyone—except for Mark, who set his down on the table moments earlier after chugging the half-filled glass like it was a red Solo cup of jungle juice.

”Mark, you know you’re supposed to sip it, right?” you ask with a small laugh, and Mark grins sheepishly.

“My bad,” he chuckles.

Gradually, the rest of your friends finish their first drink, and the server comes around to collect your glasses.

”How was your first round?” she asks hopefully, and your voices all overlap as you tell her how good it was. “That’s great to hear! I’ll be right back with your second round, and feel free to let me know if you need any water or anything like that.”

When she leaves, Haechan turns to face you with a wide, proud grin. “Did I do a good job or what?”

“You did,” you confirm. Haechan takes an almost unnoticeable deep breath, a preparatory one as if he’s about to cheer or get loud in some other manner, and you continue on quickly before he gets the chance. “I just hope the next ones are good, too.”

“They’ll be even better,” Haechan assures you confidently, and you hum skeptically. 

“We’ll have to see about that.”

The next wine, like Haechan predicted, is even better than the first. It’s slightly drier, with an aftertaste of raspberry, and you find yourself wishing you hadn’t finished it so quickly.

”Don’t look so smug,” you laugh as he smiles at you, radiating self-satisfaction from his proud, puffed-out chest.

“Can’t help it,” he replies confidently. “I love being good at my job.”

“Man, next time we should go to a beer tasting,” Jeno pipes up, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“You know, I’ve always thought beer tasted like pee.” you remark thoughtfully, and Jeno snorts in amusement. 

“I’ve never tasted pee to know for sure.” he replies, and you frown deeply.

“Well, of course I haven’t tasted pee! But you know how sometimes smells get stuck in the back of your throat and you can kinda taste it? When I taste beer, it makes me think of pee.” you defend yourself, and Haechan nods from beside you.

“It does taste funny.” he echoes, and you smile, feeling vindicated.

“See? It’s not just me.” you add on, and Jeno chuckles.

“Maybe you haven’t had the right beer yet,” he suggests, and you shrug.

“I guess I haven’t.” you agree slowly. “I do know that these wines are crazy good.”

“Did you just have the one with raspberry notes?” Chaewon asks curiously, and you nod eagerly. 

“Isn’t it so good?!” you exclaim excitedly, and Haechan laughs from beside you.

“It’s delicious,” she confirms happily. “Matter of fact—where’d she go?”

As Chaewon starts attempting to flag down your hostess for another glass of the wine, you look over at Haechan, who’s already looking at you with a fond expression on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you giggle, and he sits forward to murmur in your ear. 

“You’re cute when you’re tipsy.” When you suck your teeth at him dismissively in response, he reaches to clutch your leg under the table, making you stiffen in place. “Such a mouth on you,” he muses thoughtfully. “I’m so nice to you, and you’re mean to me like this?” His pout is audible in his voice, as is his amusement.

You can’t help but giggle at his playful tone, but you do manage to reply with, “I’m not mean! And I’m not tipsy!”

“Oh, yeah?” he challenges softly, his fingers stroking your inner thigh with a slow furling and unfurling of his fingers. “Prove it.” 

“Which part?”

“Both. Be nice to me and do a sobriety test.” he replies, and you snort far too loudly to be discreet.

“Shush, Haechan. Chae, look, the hostess is coming back!” you direct your friend’s attention to your approaching hostess, who smiles when she makes eye contact with you. “I barely feel anything,” you whisper to Haechan, who gently pinches your inner thigh in lieu of a verbal response.

“You will in a bit.” he replies confidently, and you glower in his direction.

“Whatever.”

You’re on your fourth cup of wine, all of them having tasted dangerously like juice, and you can’t lie, you’re starting to feel it.

You’re gigglier than usual, more playful, and Haechan picks up on it with a keen raise of his brows. You look at Haechan’s cup longingly after you finish yours, and he shakes his head.

”You’re not gonna like it.” 

“Lemme try it and see for myself,” you insist, and he chuckles fondly, shaking his head in amusement before shrugging in defeat and passing you the cup, your fingers curling around the cup and over his hand.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a little hard-headed?” he asks lightheartedly, and you pause to think.

“Yes. And stubborn, and defiant.” you recall, and he lets out a low whistle.

“What about a brat, huh? Anyone ever call you that?” he asks with raised brows and you narrow your eyes.

“Besides you? No, actually.”

“Aw,” Haechan coos fondly. “I was your first.”

“Let’s not make it weird,” you warn him, and he wiggles his eyebrows flirtatiously.

“Let’s actually make it super weird,” he proposes with a suggestive grin, and you step on his foot under the table. “Ow!”

“Hush so I can focus on this wine.” you scold him, just now realizing he never let go of the glass and you two have essentially been holding hands this whole time. It’s not the realization that makes you feel butterflies, it’s the subsequent realization that you like it. 

You don’t know if the wine is starting to think for you, but you genuinely want to hold Haechan’s hand for just a moment longer.

“Then focus,” Haechan says, gesturing with his free hand for you to try the drink in your hand.

You take a tentative sniff first, suppose the drink smells sweet enough, and take a careful sip, immediately wrinkling your nose at the too fizzy, too bitter taste spreading across your tastebuds. You thrust the glass back into Haechan’s proximity with a grimace as he laughs, but you don’t let go of it yet, still trying to steal more intimate moments with him with your hand enveloping his.

“Man, that was a lot.” you say with a frown. Haechan shrugs as if to say, “I told you so!”

“I knew you weren’t going to like it.” he reminds you, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t get how you like it.” you say with an accusing tone, and he snorts in amusement. 

“I like it bitter and sharp sometimes,” he explains. “I like how… invigorating it feels.”

“Blech,” you gag, and he narrows his eyes at you playfully before bringing the glass to his lips for a sip, your arm gently being tugged along as he switches the positioning of your hands so his is outside of yours. He grants you mercy for a moment, breaking eye contact to watch as he turns his cup this way and that.

Before you can ask what he’s looking for, you both spot it at the same time—your lip gloss mark left on the rim of the wine glass, and you watch, mesmerized, as he deliberately places his lips exactly over your lip gloss stain and takes a long sip.

You think you might actually melt into the floor at the rate that your body is heating up with a fiery blend of embarrassment, bashfulness, and—to be honest—desire.

If the indirect kiss wasn’t enough, when he pulls his lips from the glass, he shifts your joined grip on the glass so subtly you almost miss it, and presses a flirtatious, lingering kiss to your hand just between your second and third knuckles, dropping one eyelid into a small wink for good measure.

Your breath catches in your throat, and now you think you actually would like to melt into the floor—anything to escape the so-consuming-it’s-almost-overwhelming experience that is having Haechan’s undivided attention. 

As if he could read minds, Haechan’s eyes light up in realization, and you practically feel your heart drop.

“Are you getting shy right now?” he asks curiously.

“No?” you reply immediately, your heart starting to thud harder in your chest as his eyes twinkle with mischief and satisfaction.

“You answered that way too quickly.” Haechan points out, his smile widening into a wolfish grin. “Am I making you shy, baby?” His voice is soft and low, teasing and suggestive, and you frown deeply. “You know, you’re very cute when you’re shy.”

He’s got his eyes trained unwaveringly on you and you keep looking at him and away, your gaze darting all around in a desperate attempt to save yourself from this interaction.

“I’m not shy,” you mumble, your body betraying you as you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Oh, yeah? If you’re not shy, then look me in the eyes.” Haechan challenges quietly, and you, after a moment (too long) and with poorly concealed difficulty, comply, staring him squarely in the eyes.

“See? I’m unaffected by… whatever it is you’re doing,” you lie, confusion blooming when he breaks out into a radiant, teasing toothy grin.

“I’m not doing anything, baby.” His eyes twinkle, his smile dazzles, and for a moment you wonder if he could blind you with how radiant his aura is. Leaning in closer, he licks his lips, flicks his gaze down to your lap and back up to your face, and continues, “I think you just like me.”

It takes absolutely every nerve in your body not to react with the indignant splutter you have locked and loaded for him, instead choosing to stay silent and look confused so as not to draw attention to you two. 

For a moment, you wonder how no one’s noticed you two, but when you scan your friends’ tipsy, dopey smiles and glazed over eyes as they all seem to have split off into smaller conversations, you realize they’re juggling numerous distractions, leaving you and Haechan free to do… whatever this is.  

“You’re silly.” you counter him with a dismissive roll of your eyes, and Haechan raises his eyebrow in a silent challenge.

“And you’re still holding my hand.”

You look down with a jolt and realize that, yes, you most certainly are still holding Haechan’s hand and have been holding it for approximately… too long to play off as nothing.

“I didn’t even realize,” you marvel quietly, and he nods with an understanding expression that borders on smug.

“I just make you that comfortable, huh? You like me that much, huh?” he teases, and you grouch and grumble under your breath, snatching your hand from his (and regretting it instantly).

”I’m going to the bathroom.” you announce, standing from the table without warning and wobbling slightly as you try to catch your balance.

Haechan and Mark both steady you with Mark’s cautious hand on your side and Haechan’s secure grip on your hip.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely.

“Wait, I’m coming,” Yunjin pipes up, seemingly appearing out of nowhere from your left. She was not a part of the scan you did on your friends because one look at her and you’re on edge all over again, because she looks very much like she has her wits about her, like she’s barely had a glass of wine, and, most importantly as indicated by the keen glint in her eye, like she has something important to say to you. She makes her way over to your side of the table, looping her arm with yours and guiding you towards the hanging sign indicating the location of the bathrooms. 

The bathroom door has barely shut before Yunjin turns to look at you with her shrewd gaze.

You can’t help but feel small under her stare. “Yes?”

“Girlypop, you look like you’re in love with him. Like I truly hate to break it to you, but you look smitten.”

“I am not!” you splutter indignantly, and she raises her eyebrows skeptically.

“You couldn’t even make eye contact with him earlier.” she points out simply, and you balk.

“You saw that?” you squeak pathetically, and she nods. “Ugh, okay, maybe I am a little smitten.”

She snorts. “Maybe?”

“Shush,” you huff. “What am I gonna do?” you wail, and it’s her turn to shush you, cupping your face in her hands.

“It’s okay, bunny bee. We’re gonna figure this out,” she assures you, and you nod lamely. “In the meantime, try to keep your distance.”

You nod in agreement and she smiles comfortingly, linking arms with you once more and leading you both back to the table. When you approach, Yunjin slips in front of you and takes your old seat, much to Haechan’s surprise, and you follow suit, sitting in her previous spot between Chaewon and Chenle.

Haechan is clearly not over your last conversation, the male sitting across from you making eyes at you as if daring you to look back at him. Your gazes connect several times, each time leaving him more triumphant than before and leaving you infinitely closer to unraveling entirely and dissolving into what would be, frankly, an embarrassing fit of girlish giggles.

The rest of the wine tasting goes by without any incident, Haechan’s wine selections for you making for a very palatable round of drinks, and a couple of you even take home a bottle of your favorite one, thanking the staff and bidding them goodbye as you wait for your Uber home to arrive.

When it arrives, you all start filing in without any rhyme or reason, the nine of you throwing strategy to the wind as you enter the Kia Carnival and settle down. It takes a couple of moments for you to realize as the seats fill up that, firstly, the seats next to you are still empty and, secondly, that Haechan is not yet in the car. 

At what feels like the very last moment, Haechan slips into the seat beside you, the side of his leg pressed up against yours as you all get situated.

As your driver pulls off and easy conversation starts among you all, you can barely focus on anything other than Haechan—how warm he feels beside you, how good he smells, how comforting and exciting his mere presence is, and it hits you in the moment just how much you really like him as you stare wordlessly down at your lap.

The realization is practically staggering, your world feeling like it’s falling apart at the seams all because you can’t keep yourself away from your friend’s boyfriend. It was easier when you thought it was just sexual, to be honest, but ever since that day at the museum and the way he looked at you—you think you might have been a goner from the beginning.

You feel doomed. You feel doomed, and stuck, and frustrated, and deeply overwhelmed, and you don’t know how to fix the absolute shit show you’ve gotten yourself into. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until a tear falls onto your hand, and you blink in surprise before wiping the tear on your leg and quickly swiping the next one from your eye before it can drop as subtly as possible. 

Unfortunately, Haechan notices your small gesture and looks over at you, growing concern written plainly on his face. 

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it after a vehement shake of your head. He frowns, worry all over his handsome features as your bottom lip threatens to tremble with the weight of your unshed tears. 

He pulls out his phone and types something into an empty note in his Notes app before tilting his screen so you can see.

What’s wrong?

You shake your head dismissively, trying even harder now not to cry from the gentle concern he’s showing you. He types something else and turns it to show you again.

Can I help at all?

You shake your head again, a small sniffle slipping out despite your best efforts to hold it back, and alarm takes over his face before he frowns deeply and locks his phone, setting it back on his lap and drumming his fingers on his knee anxiously.

You don’t expect him to persist in trying to comfort you, so it comes as even more of a shock when he slips his hand between your bodies and turns it up in a silent offering. 

You pause for a moment before slowly linking your fingers with his and hoping he can’t feel the way your hand trembles.

He curls his fingers around yours in a warm, reassuring gesture, and it takes everything in you not to burst into tears at the whole situation—his kindness, his loveliness, your growing affections for him, and your immense guilt about coming in the middle of his and Winter’s relationship.

All you can do at the moment is sit silently until the Uber drops off you and Yunjin, at which point you plan to fall into her arms weeping—or something like that. Until you can do that, however, you’re stuck in this car secretly holding hands with Haechan, who, to his credit, doesn’t let go of your hand not once.

It’s not until you have to exit the car that he finally releases you with a reassuring squeeze, and as you and Yunjin make your way to your apartment, you can’t shake the feeling that you wish he hadn’t. 

As you get ready for bed, you think about your dilemma for what feels like ages, pondering how this could have happened to you, when it hits you—you really were doomed from the beginning. 

The night you two met, there were unmistakable sparks, and, at the time, it was the closest you’d come to feeling truly connected to someone. You hate to say it, but you wish he and Winter never dated so you could have him without feeling guilty. No matter how hard you tried to fight it, the chemistry was undeniable.

If everything happens for a reason, what on Earth could be the reason for this?

It’s not until you get into your bed and are rubbing your legs together, not unlike a cricket, to get comfortable that you realize that the only lesson the universe could possibly be teaching you is that you only live once. You’ve ruled out the lesson being restraint and self-control because, frankly, your whole life has been a testament to denying yourself various pleasures, and maybe Haechan was right that first night; maybe some risks are worth the reward. 

Finally drifting off to sleep, you feel a bit more at ease with your decision. You’ve spent your whole life being good; maybe it’s time to be a little selfish and have fun with Haechan for as long as you can before… well, you don’t particularly know what will happen, but for one of the first times, you’re willing to find out.

As you walk down the hallway to Mark’s and Jeno’s apartment, the music grows louder and louder and you can’t help but feel bad for their neighbors as the party only really just kicked off at 11:00pm.

Seconds after you knock, the door opens and some guy you only vaguely recognize ushers you in with a weirdly focused stare and unnerving grin.

“Who put rando in charge of party entry?” you mumble as you, Yunjin, and Chaewon link arms and start to make your way to the kitchen to get refreshments and hopefully some quiet to gather your thoughts.

As Chaewon raids the fridge, you root through the cabinet until you find the pack of Capri Suns you’re looking for, fishing out two and handing one to Yunjin.

“Score,” Chaewon whispers, eyes lighting up when she pulls a Sunny-D drink from the fridge.

“Your obsession with our childhood drinks must be studied.” Yunjin chuckles, sipping from the Capri Sun you gave her before downing two of the nips of Tito’s she brought with her.

“It helps heal my inner child,” she huffs defensively, taking a large gulp and sighing contently.

“Does the healing come before or after the Casamigos?” you ask wryly, and her eyes narrow in your direction. “Just curious!”

“You guys made it!” Mark cheers, startling the three of you as he enters the kitchen. “We were worried you two got too high to leave the house.” he explains, gesturing at Yunjin and Chaewon, who splutter defensively.

“We did not!” they insist, but Mark looks at you for the truth.

“They didn’t!” you defend them, and they nod proudly.

(You catch Mark’s eye privately and nod in confirmation. “They did.” you mouth. “But I saved us.”

“I know.” Mark agrees silently. “Thank you,” he says sincerely, and you giggle quietly.)

“Are you guys having a good time so far? Have you been here long?” Mark asks, and you shoot him a thumbs up.

“No, we just got here, actually.” you explain, your phone distracting you by buzzing in your back pocket. You pull it out to check it, a secretive smile making its way onto your lips when you read the name on the message notification.

haechan [22:08] hey you here yet?

You look up from your phone to Mark’s scrutinizing gaze, making you frown and shake your head to dismiss him.

“It’s nothing.” you assure him, and he narrows his eyes for a moment before relenting and focusing his attention on Chaewon, who’s gone on another search through their fridge, this time for snacks.

you [22:10] yeah in the kitchen w mark yunjin n chae

His reply is instant. 

haechan [22:10] bet

Excitement builds, a slow drum crescendo in your stomach as you anticipate seeing Haechan; what he might be wearing, how his hair is styled, his scent, and the way his voice lilts when he talks to you specifically—

“Hello?” Mark snickers, waving a hand in your face to get your attention. You snap out of your reverie and Mark rolls his eyes but smiles fondly. “Welcome back. You sure you didn’t take a hit, too?”

“Positive.” you snort, and he lifts his hands in surrender.

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Yeah, well—wait.” you cut yourself off mid-retort, looking around the room. “Where’d Yunjin go?”

“She probably went to go find everyone else,” Chaewon pipes up, now snacking on edible cookie dough and leaning into your side.

“True. Let’s go find her,” Mark offers, and you agree instantly, leaving the kitchen in a single file line with your hand wrapped around Chaewon’s. 

To no one’s surprise, as soon as you leave the peace and quiet of the kitchen, you three are separated almost instantly, leaving you alone in the middle of the packed living room and your friends scattered amongst the crowd. 

As you walk by a group of people in search of your friends, an arm loops around your waist and pulls you into their body. You don’t even flinch, already recognizing the person’s embrace as you curl into Haechan’s chest and smile up at him.

“Hi, handsome.” you coo, and he grins, running his free hand through his hair casually.

“Hey, baby. You look amazing,” he compliments, and your cheeks warm. “I went to the kitchen a minute ago to find you, but you weren’t there.” he says with a devastatingly attractive pout.

“I was trying to track down where Yunjin went! Then when we left the kitchen, I lost Chaewon and Mark, too.” you reply with a frown of your own.

“I just saw Yunjin by the balcony talking to some dude.” Haechan says, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in her general direction. “She seems okay.”

“Okay,” you say, letting out a relieved sigh.

“How are you, though?” Haechan asks with a hint of worry, and you remember the way you left things with him after crying in the cab home from the wine tasting. “What was wrong the other night?”

“Oh, um. It was nothing, actually. I was thinking about a really, uh, sad video I saw the other day and it got to me again.” you explain hesitantly, and Haechan lifts one eyebrow skeptically.

“Oh, really?” he challenges, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Yes, really.” you counter, and you two stare at each other with loaded gazes before he breaks it, raising his hands in surrender.

“Fine, I’ll drop it.” he relents, and you smile triumphantly. “But, baby, do me a favor,” Haechan continues, looking around behind you, and you tilt your head to the side curiously.

“What is it?”

“Ignore Jeno tonight.” he states, and you raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

“You’re kidding, right?” you say flatly, and he shakes his head. “Okay, so you’re gonna flirt with me all night, right? And ignore Winter?”

“Well, you know I can’t do that,” he replies slowly.

You most definitely did know that, and his answer only helps to prove your point. So why do his words feel like a bucket of ice cold water being poured on your head? 

You attempt to shake it off internally, so you just nod slowly to his words, waiting for him to catch on.

“So it’s fair that you get to play around all night, but I get nothing?” you huff, pulling back from him slightly, and his grip tightens around your waist. “Yeah, no.”

“No?” he echoes, furrowing his brows in surprise and confusion.

“No.” you confirm, looking up at him. “I’m gonna flirt with Jeno.”

“You’re gonna flirt with him.” Haechan echoes flatly in disbelief, and you nod, patting his chest. “That’s even worse. I don’t want to share you with him.”

“Wh–and you think I want to share you with her?” you whisper heatedly, and he shoots you a warning look.

“That’s not the same.” 

“Bullshit.” you retort, and he groans under his breath. “As a matter of fact,” you say, extracting yourself from his embrace, “let me go enjoy my night.”

“Are you mad at me?” Haechan asks, incredulous, and you look back at him like he’s stupid.

“Guess.” you reply shortly before turning on your heel and venturing further into the party and farther away from Haechan.

“You know…” you sigh, leaning against the wall, “I haven’t seen Jeno all night.”

Seulgi shoots you a funny look. “Didn’t you just get here, like, thirty minutes ago?”

You glower back at her. “Well, yes, but it’s his place. Why is he not running out and about and amok in the living room for my viewing pleasure?”

“Since when have you looked away from Haechan long enough to notice Jeno was missing?” Seulgi questions, regarding you carefully. At your expression, she raises her eyebrows. “Trouble in paradise?”

“No,” you quip back shortly.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” she says with a shrug, and you sigh loudly.

“Well…”

“What is it?” she presses gently, and you frown.

“Haechan told me not to talk to Jeno tonight.” you explain, and her brows shoot up in surprise.

“Did he say why?”

“I feel like we both know why. The jealousy was implied.” you sniff, turning your nose up. 

“He’s got some nerve.” she chuckles in surprise, and you nod vigorously.

“He’s got some fucking nerve, right?!” you agree, and she rubs your back comfortingly.

“So what did you say?” she asks, and you balk.

“Well, I pointed out the double standard.” you say slowly. 

Seulgi arches an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“...I said he should ignore Winter, then.” you mutter quietly, and she shoots you an incredulous glare. “It was to point out that he can’t ask me to do something like that!”

“Yeah, okay, but what if he was like ‘bet,’ and ignored Winter all night in favor of you? Well—” Seulgi looks off into the distance for a brief moment in contemplation. 

“Shut up.” You already know where she’s going with this.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Shut up!”

“I’m right!”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“He literally has.” Seulgi reminds you.

“He didn’t do it today.” you counter with a stubborn frown.

“Well, maybe we should stop focusing on what he didn’t do and worry about what you’re going to do.” she supplies helpfully.

You nod slowly. “You’re right.”

“I know.” She leans back against the wall, pleased with herself.

“Wow, and so humble, too.” you drawl, and she giggles.

“I’m gonna… flirt with Jeno, for starters.”

“Maybe he can help take your mind off of Haechan!” she suggests, and you nod slowly, the nod becoming more pronounced as your conviction grows stronger.

“You’re so right.”

“I know,” Seulgi replies, again, to your mild irritation and amusement. “It’s one of my many charms.”

“Can you stop stroking your own ego for twelve minutes?” you chuckle with a roll of your eyes, and she pauses thoughtfully.

“Hey, Siri?” she calls out, pulling her phone from her back pocket. 

“Uh-huh?” her phone replies.

“Set a timer for twelve minutes.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” you snort, and she shakes her head.

“Your timer is set for twelve minutes.” Siri responds, and Seulgi locks her phone and places it back in her pocket.

“You’re not gonna thank her?” you ask, confused.

Seulgi shoots you another funny look. “She’s not real.”

“She’s real to me. And if the robots and technology ever revolt, don’t you want to be known as a human with manners? Maybe they’d spare you!”

Giving you a long, blank stare, Seulgi shakes her head and sighs. “I don’t know what goes on in your head sometimes.”

After Seulgi leaves to go take a hit on the terrace, you head down the hallway towards the kitchen for snacks, stopping shortly when you see a familiar figure sitting on the floor against the wall, knees tucked to her chest and resting her forehead against her knees.

“Winter?” you ask curiously, stepping closer. “Are you alright?”

She looks up at you with a bleary-eyed, weak smile. “Hey.”

“Hey…” you say carefully, trying to evaluate the situation and figure out what’s wrong. Did Haechan break up with her or something? Pushing aside the sick rush of excitement you felt after thinking that, you continue with, “Winter, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she mumbles tiredly, rubbing her temples. “I just have a raging headache.”

“Oh, no,” you hum, worried. “You want some painkillers? It’s ibuprofen, 600 milligrams. I use them for cramps and they work like a charm!”

“Yes, please, actually.” she agrees with relief written all over her face.

“Okay, come with me.” you say, gently taking her hand to help her to her feet. You let her lean on you slightly as you make your way to the kitchen to get her something to drink. “You know you have to eat something, too, right? You shouldn’t take it on an empty stomach.”

“Okay,” she sighs weakly. 

“Here, sit right here.” you guide her to a chair by the kitchen island and set about finding her a suitable snack. You give up on the junk food and decide to raid their fridge, finding just enough ingredients to make her a turkey, lettuce, and cheese sandwich. “You want mayonnaise on your sandwich?”

“Mm, no, thank you,” she says weakly, resting her head on the countertop. “It’s so much quieter in here.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine the booming bass being good for your headache.” you reply sympathetically, and she shakes her head gingerly.

“The music caused it,” she explains. “Sometimes I really hate parties.”

“Really?” you reply, slightly shocked, but then you pause to really think about it and realize she’s right; she rarely suggests going to parties, merely just tagging along when you all decide to go to one.

“Yeah, I prefer just relaxing at home, but I go because all of you guys go and Haechan…”

Your ears perk up. “Haechan…?”

“Haechan loves parties and hanging out. It’s so funny that he loves going out so much, but he always stays in with me when I ask him to. He’s so sweet.”

You think back to the tight-lipped smile he gave Winter when she asked him to take her home the evening you guys went to the museum, and wince internally. If he’s staying home, it’s definitely not by choice.

“You guys have fun together, huh?” you say bleakly, and she nods with a small smile.

“He’s so funny and I love laughing at how silly he is.” she gushes, and you set the plate with her sandwich down on the table, her head perking up. “Sometimes I wonder how we work so well in spite of our differences. Maybe it’s the ‘opposites attract’ phenomenon.”

“Well, what else is there? He’s a party animal and you’re a homebody.” you say, curious.

“He’s such a free spirit, and I’m… more grounded, I think. I think I keep his head from going too far in the clouds, y’know?” she says quietly around a mouthful of sandwich.

“I see, I see.” This is downright painful to hear for you, honestly, but you’re not sure if it hurts more that she has him and you don’t or that Winter’s oblivious to their incompatibility.

“And he’s more of a night owl, but I like waking up early, but he still wakes up early just to hang out with me,” she sighs dreamily, eyes focused on her sandwich and therefore completely missing the disbelieving look you shoot her way.

“So if he goes to bed late at night, and wakes up early to be with you… when does he get to rest?” you ask carefully, and Winter screws up her face thoughtfully.

“Huh. I never really thought about it like that.”

Of course you didn’t. Because you think of Haechan as some sort of prop or accessory you can equip whenever you feel like it. He’s a living, breathing human being that might not want to wake up early every time you feel like it.

You don’t say any of that, though.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. Not wanting to ruin the atmosphere, you continue with, “I mean, if those are all the differences you have, you guys could be pretty okay!”

“Well, then there’s the affection thing.” she says slowly, and you nod, already knowing where she’s going.

“If he’s too affectionate, like in public and stuff, you can try talking to him about it!” you suggest helpfully, but Winter looks at you in confusion.

“Too affectionate? Girl, he doesn’t even like holding my hand in public.” she chuckles hollowly, and you blink, stunned.

So you definitely did not know where she was going with her earlier statement.

“He’s… not… affectionate with you?” you ask slowly and carefully, and she shakes her head.

“He says PDA makes him feel weird.” she says with a shrug, and you blink at her again, baffled.

Nothing about that man gives “not affectionate” when he’s with you. As a matter of fact, you’re usually drowning in his affection, so for Winter to say he’s distant with her makes you feel… guilty? 

“Oh,” you mumble quietly, and that’s all you can really say for the moment. 

Winter, oblivious yet again to her emotional surroundings, sets down the crusts of the sandwich you prepared for her and sighs in relief. “I feel a little better already, actually!”

“That’s great!” you say, eager to change the topic. “Do you still want painkillers?”

“Yes, please.” she replies immediately, reaching her hand out. You fish out your little prescription bottle of painkillers and shake one into her hand, placing a glass of water on the table beside her plate. “You’re the best,” she compliments, relieved, and you shake your head to yourself in silent disagreement, the gesture unnoticed by Winter.

If only she knew.

Walking through the party, you soon run into the very person Haechan asked you to ignore tonight. You smile up at Jeno, who grins and pulls you closer to him as you two start to move to the beat of the song coming through the speakers.

Your hips sway together rhythmically and Jeno leans down to your ear, murmuring, “I was hoping I’d run into you.” 

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?” you hum curiously, resting your forearms on his chest and peering up at him.

“I always hope to see you,” he defends himself, and you raise an eyebrow skeptically.

“And we’re sure this has everything to do with that and nothing to do with you wanting me to see you tonight in your slutty little crop top?” you tease, and his cheeks redden as he shoots a bashful grin down to the floor.

“It’s not slutty!” he splutters defensively despite his laughter, and you shoot him an unimpressed blank stare.

“It’s a slutty, slutty top, Jeno,” you confirm, trailing one finger down from the space between his collarbones to where his stomach is revealed. “I didn’t even know you got down like that,” you confess, and his ears blush to match his cheeks.

“I don’t!” he squawks indignantly.

“Aw, man,” you sigh, feigning disappointment. “That’s a shame.” 

Jeno regards you carefully. “Why is that?”

“I was just gonna ask you how slutty you can get.” you murmur softly, looking up at him with a growing mischievous grin.

“Well, in that case,” he replies with a matching smile, “I can get pretty slutty.”

”Mm, yeah?” you muse, draping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. “Show me.”

As if he was waiting for the cue, he leans in and teases your lips apart with gentle grazes of his own, waiting until you’re at peak anticipation before surging forward and connecting your lips with a soft sigh of relief.

His lips move against yours eagerly, poorly restrained excitement practically vibrating through his body as he winds his arms around your lower back and draws you in closer, his warm, musky fragrance enveloping you. 

He presses kiss after kiss to your lips, obliging every time you chase after his lips for another one with a small fond chuckle and a quiet, content grunt. Jeno pulls back from the liplock with an air of reluctance, scanning your expression for a wordless confirmation before looking towards the back of the apartment.

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” Jeno offers, and you smile and nod, linking your fingers with his as he starts to lead you further into the apartment and farther away from the din of the party surrounding you.  

Leading you into the bathroom of his apartment, he shuts the door behind him and presses you up against it before kissing you again.

“You literally live here,” you giggle into the kiss. “Why are we in your bathroom and not your bedroom?”

“Long story short, Mark wants to get laid and his room is a mess, so he’s using mine.” Jeno explains, and you chuckle, nodding in understanding.

“You’re a good friend,” you say fondly, and he grins.

“I am?” he asks, and you nod, gasping when his hand slides down your front to between your thighs. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he says, his smile turning wolfish as he leans in closer, effectively pinning you against the wall as he kisses you deeply, teasing peeks and slips of his tongue into your mouth making you dizzy.

This time, when you pull back, it’s Jeno who chases your lips and captures them in another breath-stealing kiss. Every time you break the kiss to breathe, he’s on you a second later, barely giving you time to get any air—but when you’re thoroughly breathless and light-headed, he rests his forehead against yours as you both catch your breath, your chests heaving.

Jeno recovers faster than you do, moving and pressing kisses down your neck to your collarbones and back up while you play catch up. Unfortunately for you, each drag of his lips against your throat, each well-placed suck of skin and cheeky flick of the tongue only serves to make your breathing even more ragged, your eyes rolling back into your head as pleasure builds inside of you. 

Unable to wait any longer, you cup his face and tilt his head up towards yours to kiss him another time. He straightens up immediately and returns the kiss eagerly, pressing his hips into yours in excitement before pulling back. 

Your bodies move in sync, wordlessly on the same page as you both reach for the other’s clothing. Your movements are smooth and fluid as you unbuckle Jeno’s belt and unbutton his jeans, while Jeno’s are rough and jerky, the male haphazardly yanking at your pants until your button comes undone. 

His fingertips are cold and slightly calloused as he navigates past your underwear, stroking the seat of the garment before chuckling quietly.

“Already this wet for me?” His tone is a mix of curiosity and awe with a teasing lilt to it and his eyes twinkle when you nod, clutching at his arm with your free hand. “You’re unreal.”

“Jeno, touch me,” you urge plaintively, and he obliges instantly, middle finger circling your entrance before pushing in slowly. 

“God,” he groans in surprise, pulling his finger out and pushing it back in experimentally before establishing a rhythm that has you digging your nails into his arm for something to hold onto. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

You can’t bring yourself to reply, instead pushing your hand past his jeans and palming his length through his boxers, stroking from bottom to top diligently. He’s big, you note internally, suppressing a moan of anticipation when you feel the ridges of his cock through the teasingly thin fabric of his underwear.

Eager for more of your touch, Jeno leans into you, unintentionally pressing you against the sink so hard the counter digs into your back uncomfortably. He speeds up his motions between your legs, smoothly adding a second finger to assist in pumping in and out of your core, and you’re suddenly thankful Jeno’s body’s there to keep you standing, your knees on the verge of buckling from all the stimulation.

You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock—well, as far around as you can manage—and start to pump your fist up and down the length of his shaft. Jeno practically purrs in satisfaction, returning the favor by curling his fingers inside of you and stroking along your inner walls in search of your g-spot. 

He finds the small patch of nerves right around the time that you add your other hand into the mix, twisting and stroking him in opposite directions, both fists gliding up and down with the assistance of his pre-cum dripping from his tip.

“Careful, baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth, and you shrug casually, blinking up at him intently.

“What’s so wrong with that, hm?” you tease, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong with that is that I have plans for you tonight, and cumming early does not fit in those plans.” Jeno explains with a tempting smile that makes you just want to lean in and kiss him.

So you do. As you kiss him, he speeds up his pace and uses the heel of his palm to massage your clit and it’s not long before you’re climaxing with a gasp of his name and an overwhelmed whimper that makes Jeno’s cock twitch in your hands.

He moves your hands away from his length with a surprising amount of restraint and replaces your hands with one of his own, slowly pumping up and down his shaft as he observes you with bright, intense eyes.

“Can I taste you?” His voice is raspy with desire but his words are clear as he meets your gaze with a hopeful expression.

“Y-Yeah—um, yes, you can.” you stammer, finding it hard to maintain your composure under his gaze; it’s a mix of adoration, lust, and keen fascination as he studies everything about you, eyes roving over you as studiously as if he intends to commit your… everything to memory.

He smiles at your nervous response, eyes shifting to crescent moons as he sinks to his knees. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he hums sweetly, looking up at you from his kneeling position. He helps you out of your underwear and jeans, draping your leg over his shoulder and shifting to get closer to you. “Gonna take care of you.”

He places a feather-light kiss to the hood of your clit, making you whimper quietly, and he gazes up at you, curiously studying your reactions as he spreads your folds with his index and middle fingers and drags his tongue up from your entrance to your clit.

A loud gasp escapes you, and your hand moves reflexively to the top of his head, fingers curling in his black locks of hair. He chuckles into your core, the sound sending pleasurable vibrations through your body before repeating the action, heavy-handed strokes of his tongue lashing at the underside of your sensitive clit as you squirm above him, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips closer into his face.

He reaches behind you and grabs your ass, hands gripping your cheeks firmly and pulling you as close to his mouth as he can manage. His tongue works at your core in an almost frenzy, lapping at you as if you’re all he’s ever wanted to taste. You shudder at the sensations, a low moan emerging from your chest involuntarily, and he echoes you, his groan of bliss garbled by the way his tongue swirls around your clit.

“Fuck, Jeno—feels so good,” you exhale shakily, eyes sliding shut in ecstasy as he devours you, arousal-smeared lips sucking and kissing at your folds and tongue flicking and swirling, dipping teasingly into your entrance. 

“You’re perfect,” he slurs against your folds, sucking them between his lips and running his tongue over them before releasing them and returning his attention to your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth and letting it slip from his lips with a lewd wet smacking noise. “So fucking perfect—”

“Jeno, please,” you whine, reaching between your legs with your free hand and spreading your folds, tugging the hooded flesh above your clit up to expose the sensitive button. “Right here—please—wanna cum so bad—”

His eyes flick up to yours, so wild and filled with desire that it takes you by surprise, and he growls in determination under his breath as he surges forward and lets loose on your poor, expectant clit, alternating between sucking hard, flicking it back and forth, swirling his tongue around it and, to your scandalized surprise, burying his face in your core, the tip and bridge of his nose bumping and massaging your clit.

“Fuck—” you hiss in surprise, the word ending in a desperate moan as he brings you to your climax, letting his tongue lie flat against your entrance as he moves his head up and down, guiding you into using the bridge of his nose to stimulate your clit. 

“Ride my face,” he instructs through a throaty grunt, and you eagerly oblige, humping against his face as you ride out your high, moaning and panting Jeno’s name repeatedly.

“Holy shit,” you whisper in shock as Jeno straightens up and licks his lips before starting to stroke himself with slow strokes, tightly curled fist fucking his thick shaft as he watches you with a smug grin and slightly wildened eyes.

“Turn around for me?” he offers, pointing his finger downwards and twirling it around, his gaze darkening when you do just that and turn to face the mirror above the sink. “That’s it, stick that cute little ass out for me.” he grunts, and you feel your cheeks flush with heat, averting your gaze from his through the mirror. 

He smooths a palm over your asscheek, kneading the flesh before mimicking the action on the other one. He positions himself behind you and pushes his length into you, hissing in delight as your walls flex and stretch to accommodate his size.

“Fuck, Jeno,” you moan out, and he chuckles, the sound more teasing and dark than you’ve ever heard him. It’s a new, definitely not unwelcome side to him that you’re seeing right now and the realization brings forth yet another wave of arousal and desire that travels through your body and slickens around his length.

“Feels good?” he groans, and you nod vehemently, rocking your hips back onto him. “Yeah, I know it feels good, you’re gushing all over my cock, princess.”

All you can muster up in response are pathetic whines and whimpers as he drives his length into you, and he snickers, pulling your head up so you’re looking into the mirror.

“Look at yourself,” he urges, voice strained from his desire. “How good you look taking me like this.” 

“Jeno—” you cry, feeling a myriad of emotions as you watch yourself in the mirror. You look fucked out, to say the least, pupils wide but lids heavy as you trap your bottom lip between your teeth. Your lipgloss is smeared around your mouth, which soon falls open as breathy pants and cries sound out from your kiss-swollen lips freely. 

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever fucking seen,” he moans through clenched teeth as he focuses his attention on drilling into you repeatedly. “That feels so good around my cock, baby, keep sucking me in like that—” The head of his cock fucks into your most sensitive spot along your inner walls and you lose all sensibility, grabbing at the sink to steady yourself.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, fingers moving to rub your clit to help you reach your peak only to flinch away when you touch your sensitive clit and a jolt of something overtakes you. 

“Cum all over my cock, baby,” Jeno half-urges, half-pleads as your climax hits. 

So you do—hard. Your vision goes unfocused as you become acutely aware of the sound of your blood rushing through your ears and you can only let out weak moans and gasps as pleasure consumes you entirely.

Jeno’s throbbing length twitches inside of you as he pulls out and pushes in while your walls constrict around him, and his grip on your hips tightens as he begins to chase his own release.

“So good, baby,” he praises in a low, hushed murmur as he bites down on his bottom lip. “God, I need to cum—baby, where can I cum?”

“Inside,” you reply instantly, and he moans in delight, pushing into you all the way as he starts to cum.

“God, you’re amazing,” he breathes. “You want me to cum nice and deep in your pretty pussy, yeah?”

“Uh-huh—” you sniffle plaintively, and he sucks in a sharp breath as he meets your gaze in the mirror.

“Fuck—it’s yours, baby—gonna give you all of it, princess—” he promises, staying true to his word and not pulling out until your walls have milked him dry. His eyes shut tightly and he breathes out loudly through his nose as his body goes tense and rigid for a moment.

As you two catch your breath, Jeno gently guides your jelly-like limbs up and around so you’re sitting on the sink counter and reaches up to hold your face, assessing your expression carefully.

“How do you feel?” he asks softly, and his endearing display of concern brings a small, bashful smile to your face. “Good?” he chuckles, and you give a nod of confirmation. “Good.” he murmurs, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer for a tight, warm, secure hug.

If you were a cat, you’re sure that you’d be purring loudly as he rubs soothing circles into the small of your back and presses light kisses to the shoulder he’s resting on.

After a moment, he releases you slowly, now sporting a shy smile of his own. “I could stay here with you all night,” he confesses quietly, and your own smile widens as you reach forward to take one of his hands in your own.

“I would like that,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Don’t tempt me,” he warns you playfully. “Unfortunately, I think we should get out of this bathroom before someone finds out we’re in here.”

As soon as he reminds you of your circumstances, you can’t help but feel a sudden jolt of panic and think about your argument with Haechan.

“I suppose you’re right,” you sigh, frowning slightly, and he coos fondly at you, leaning in to kiss you softly. “I guess we should get ready, huh?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, and he steps back to help you off the counter, handing you your pants and underwear before busying himself with buttoning and zipping his pants. You get redressed quickly and quietly and he puts his hand on the doorknob, quickly squeezing your hand in a comforting gesture before releasing you and opening the door.

To your surprise, when you come out and make your way back to the party, it doesn’t seem like anyone caught onto your joint absence, making you think that maybe, just maybe you’ve gotten away with it.

That is, until Haechan corners you on your way back from the kitchen when the rest of your friends have slipped off to smoke. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” he scoffs, and you try your best to play dumb despite feeling caught—and guilty at that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, and he gives you the most unimpressed stare you’ve seen in a minute, making you blanch and look away in mild embarrassment.

“We’re gonna stand here and pretend that I don’t know what you look like after you’ve been fucked?” he says flatly, and you swallow thickly, realizing you probably can’t dodge the topic anymore.

“What exactly are you getting at, Haechan?” you huff, and he shoots you a wide-eyed, incredulous look.

“You had sex with Jeno.” He gets straight to the point and you wince internally before bracing yourself and meeting his gaze levelly.

“And?” 

“And you did it specifically after I asked you not to flirt with him tonight.”

“Who do you think you are to make any sort of request like that of me, though?” you counter, and to your surprise, his nerve falters visibly, his hand lifting to rub the back of his neck.

“I know we’re not together, but—”

“But nothing! Not only are we not together, but you’re together with someone else!” you whisper-shout, and his expression turns defensive.

“We’re not together,” he repeats, staring you down as if daring you to interrupt him again, “but you know good and well we’re not not together.”

“We’re not exclusive.” you point out. 

“You can slice and dice the anatomy of our relationship any way you want, okay?” Haechan says, exasperated. “But you know what you did was messed up. That’s why you pretended not to know what I was talking about.”

You hate that he’s right. “I don’t really want to talk about this right now,” you mutter, looking away.

“Oh, believe me. We’ll talk about it later.” he replies, the resolve in his voice more than a little intimidating.

“Great,” you say sarcastically. “Can I go now?”

“I don’t know why you asked. You’re just going to do what you want anyway.” he half-scoffs, half-chuckles, and you can’t help but smile slightly with satisfaction.

“Ring any bells?”

“No,” he replies as you turn to leave, leaning in so his lips are by your ear. “I don’t pretend to care what the other person thinks. I just do it.”

“I don’t pretend, I consider my options.” you reply defensively, turning your nose up haughtily before walking away.

“We’re gonna pretend that’s not worse?” Haechan calls after you incredulously, but you ignore him, rounding the corner and practically collapsing in relief when you see that Yunjin and Chaewon have returned from their smoke break, the two of them giggling together on the couch. 

They look up to see you and break into wide smiles, making space between them and reaching out to welcome you closer. 

“We are starving,” Chaewon complains when you plop between them on the couch. “We were thinking about getting food somewhere.”

“How about the diner? I could really go for a cheeseburger right now.” you suggest, and Yunjin’s eyes light up.

“Yes! I’ll see if everyone else wants to go… after I rest for a second.” she says, resting her head on your shoulder, and you hum sympathetically.

“What’s wrong? Why so sleepy?”

“I’m drained,” she complains. “I sucked in a Scooby snack earlier when I was hitting my bowl and I haven’t recovered from my coughing fit.”

“Dang…Toke-ahontas did you dirty, huh?” you say with a frown. 

“After all I’ve done for her!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “She’s ungrateful.”

“Yeah, she cost you about 100 aura points.” Chaewon nods sadly, and you and Yunjin look at each other then at her in confusion. “Aura points? It’s a TikTok thing!”

“You need to stop being so chronically online.” Yunjin says in a gently concerned voice. 

“Online is where the lesbians are,” Chaewon defends herself, and you snort.

“The online lesbians are filling your head with inane terms and thoughts.” you inform her.

Chaewon huffs, crossing her arms as her lip begins to tremble. “The online lesbians wouldn’t do that to me!” 

“Okay, they wouldn’t!” you switch up immediately to avoid actually upsetting her and you pull her into a hug. “The online lesbians love and care for you, they’re just a little silly.”

“Yeah!” she sniffles, resting her head on your chest. “My silly online lesbians.”

You and Yunjin share a look over Chaewon’s unsuspecting head before shaking your heads and smiling to yourselves.

“Back to you,” you say, refocusing on Yunjin. “You are so brave,” you say seriously, patting her hand gently, and she smiles up at you, chuckling slightly before starting to cough once more. “Poor thing.”

“If I die,” she rasps dramatically, “tell my boss I hate how complicated her coffee order is. It makes all the baristas hate me and then they think I’m the pretentious prick who orders several customized drinks for varied drinking pleasures.”

“Absolutely will do.” you nod resolutely. “If I can remember all those words.” Yunjin snickers before coughing again. “Good God.”

As you all enter the diner and head to your usual spots, you’re surprised when Jeno slips in front of Haechan and slides into the spot next to you. 

Haechan, it seems, is just as stunned as you are, if not more. Jeno sits close to you, his thigh pressing up against yours and his fingers lightly grazing at the top of your hand in a silent, nervous request.

You make eye contact with Haechan, who’s settled down beside Winter and is staring absolute daggers at an oblivious Jeno, and oblige Jeno’s request, turning your palm up to link your fingers with his. He jolts in surprise at the contact, definitely not expecting you to agree to it, but a shy, excited smile slowly curls his lips as he curls his fingers around yours, the gentle act of affection happening under the table away from prying eyes. 

You can’t help but notice that Jeno’s intent gaze is nothing short of adoring as he studies you, not letting go of your hand for even a moment. In fact, when the waitress comes with your menus, he seems to forget to release you, bringing your linked hands up from under the table to reach for his respective menu. 

Your eyes can’t help but dart to Haechan, who’s already staring at your intertwined fingers with an unreadable expression and a clenched jaw. He stares at your hands, then you, then Jeno, before snapping out of it a moment later to receive his menu from the waitress. You carefully extract your fingers from Jeno’s with a hint of embarrassment, averting your gaze from Haechan’s the whole time as you cover the gesture by fixing your hair, brushing it out of your face.

Conversation builds amongst you all gradually, your and Haechan’s unusual silence compensated for by Jeno’s unexpectedly bubbly contributions. You can’t help but look over at Haechan periodically, the subject of your attention pointedly staring down at his menu with his jaw set and brow furrowed.

You know that you two just had an argument, and neither of you owe each other anything… so why do you feel so wrong?

Jeno snaps you out of your thoughts when he slumps down to rest his head on your shoulder. It’s almost comical, the way that the larger male contorts his body just to place his head on you, but you can’t find it in you to be truly amused—not with the way Haechan pokes his tongue to the inside of his cheek in poorly concealed irritation.

“Hey, where’d you two disappear to, anyway?” Yunjin’s voice cuts through your internal spiraling, and you freeze at the sudden attention, blinking twice in a daze before meeting her curious gaze. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, feigning cluelessness. 

“At the party, girl! You and Jeno disappeared out of nowhere and showed up, like, an hour later.” As she speaks, you watch the realization set in, her eyes dropping to where Jeno’s head rests on your shoulder, lifting to study the content smile on his face, and finally meeting your shifty gaze. 

You’re less than surprised when she spares Haechan a surreptitious glance only to find him staring directly at you with a challenge burning in his eyes. 

Tell them where you were. He doesn’t need to say a word, evidently, because you look down at your hands in your lap, wanting so badly to feel comforted by the way Jeno’s thumb strokes the back of your hand yet feeling more alienated than ever.

“Oh, I lost my phone and she was helping me look for it.” Jeno’s voice pipes up as he covers for you, and you try not to visibly slump with relief. 

“Again? Jeno, you’re always losing your things.” Chaewon scolds. 

“Yeah, you’d better be careful before you lose something you can’t replace.” Haechan says in a low tone, words heavy with a warning and an unspoken threat that you’re sure has nothing to do with a cellphone.

Jeno notices it, too, unfortunately. Letting out a low whistle, Jeno sits up slightly and squares his shoulders as he stares back at Haechan. “What’s with the hostility? I’ve never lost anything I couldn’t—or didn’t—get back or replace.” 

“Yet.” Haechan mutters under his breath bitterly, and the air at the table seems to go stale as everyone freezes at the impending threat. Everyone, that is, except for the oh, so clueless Winter, whose response to her irate boyfriend’s remark is to loop her hand around his arm and look up at him questioningly.

“You okay, baby?” she asks, concerned, and he blinks back an almost imperceptible roll of his eyes before shifting his gaze to her with a tight-lipped smile. 

She brightens up at the sight of his smile, resting her head on his shoulder, leaving you to wonder how she could miss the absolute fire blazing in his eyes. You also feel the urge to swallow bile as you stare blankly at where her head meets his shoulder.

It hits you then, the realization finally sinking in, that you’re jealous of Winter, and your anger multiplies what feels like tenfold as you start to spiral, your mood worsening rapidly.

That is her boyfriend. He doesn’t belong to you. You don’t even want Haechan like that. 

 …Do you? 

“I’m fine. I’m just making sure Jeno’s more… responsible. Next time, he won’t be so lucky if someone gets to that phone before he does and doesn’t feel like giving it back.”

Once again, there’s a hidden meaning to his words, and everyone at the table apart from Jeno and Winter exchanges uncomfortable glances that all manage to flicker your way. Haechan slowly drags his gaze from Winter to you, his eyes dark and intense.

“Whoever finds it in the future probably already has a cellphone.” you counter, leveling his gaze. “A perfectly good one, at that. So what the hell would they want with his?”

Haechan chuckles humorlessly before shrugging casually and draping his arm around Winter’s shoulders, Winter leaning into his side eagerly. “Maybe they want an upgrade.”

“I have the iPhone 11 Pro,” Jeno remarks in confusion.

“Maybe they shouldn’t be so fucking greedy and appreciate the perfectly functional phone they already have before snatching other people’s phones.” you snap, and Haechan’s brows raise in surprise at that. 

“Greedy?” he starts to counter in disbelief, but Yunjin claps twice to get everyone’s attention, taking turns staring you and Haechan down with evident disapproval.

“That’s enough out of you both, actually. And where the hell is the waitress, anyway?” she desperately attempts to change the topic, leaving a tense atmosphere and a confused Jeno and Winter in the aftermath.

As Yunjin and Chaewon set about trying to get the attention of the waitress to take your orders, you and Haechan exchange fierce stares, neither of you backing down from the charged eye contact.

At the end of your meal, the tension at the table has only dissipated slightly, the burning embers of irritation kept alight by your frustrating inability to ignore the way Winter’s been hanging on Haechan’s arm and staring up at him with adoring eyes virtually all night.

Haechan looks up from his phone at you unexpectedly, catching you dead in the act of glaring at where his and Winter’s bodies meet. He raises his eyebrows almost imperceptibly, leaving you seething internally and cursing how attractive he is, before poking his tongue in his cheek and looking away with a growing smug grin.

You think for a moment that you’ll be fine, that you can get a handle on your emotions, but Winter sits up slightly to leave a flurry of kisses to Haechan’s cheek, making exaggerated smooching noises with every kiss, and you just about gag, tossing your napkin down on the table a bit too forcefully to play off as nothing.

“You alright?” Haechan asks slowly, knowing good and damn well that you’re not alright, that you couldn’t possibly be alright—

you got me some type of way ain’t used to feeling this way i do not know what to say but i know i shouldn’t think about it

“Yeah, I just lost my appetite.” you mumble bitterly, and Winter hums sympathetically.

“We can ask for a to-go box!” she offers helpfully, and you force a smile in her direction. “I’ll call the waitress.”

“As a matter of fact, I think I’m gonna go home soon.” you say, trying with all your might to refrain from throwing a full-blown temper tantrum in the middle of your regular diner.

Jeno turns to observe you carefully, concern etched in his features. “Do you feel okay?” he asks worriedly, reaching up to place the back of his hand against your forehead. 

You note, with a shockingly sinister satisfaction, that Haechan visibly bristles at the contact between you and Jeno, the male across from you swallowing thickly before taking a small sip of the ice water in his cup.

“I feel okay, Jeno,” you assure him softly, and he relaxes slightly before removing his hand from your head and placing it on your thigh under the table, palm facing upwards in a silent request that you grant readily, lacing your fingers with his.

Now it’s Haechan’s turn to react, rolling his eyes and scoffing under his breath before raising his hand to flag down the waitress.

She arrives at your table shortly after he’s called her over and agrees to bring the checks and a couple of to-go containers, thanking you all for your patronage and bidding you a good night.

You try not to fling your card on the table with the utter desperation you feel to get out of there, but it lands a bit roughly anyway. 

Jeno picks up your card and hands it back to you, smiling sweetly before placing his card on top of both of your receipts.

You return his smile gratefully, blatantly ignoring the way Haechan’s staring at you both, and reach for your coat so you can leave.

You almost hate to say it, but seeing Winter all over Haechan tonight seems to have awakened something nasty, hateful, and bitter in you, and you think it’s in your best interest to make your escape before that something rears its ugly head.

By the time you and Yunjin get home, your mind is reeling and you feel absolutely restless.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” you mutter, shrugging off your coat and heading to your room. With every step closer to your room, you grow more frustrated by the situation.

You shut your door all too harshly, prompting you to open and close it again softer in a wordless apology, and toss your purse onto your bed before slowly starting to strip in the full length mirror by your vanity. 

took one fucking look at your face now i wanna know how you taste usually don’t give it away but you know i’m out here thinking ‘bout it

You’re down to your bra and nothing else before an idea strikes you and you’re leaping onto your bed and pulling your phone from your purse. 

Your fingers are moving before you even register it, your mind one step ahead of you as you press the phone icon next to the contact you’ve typed in and wait with bated breath.

then i realize she’s right there and i’m at home like, “damn, this ain’t fair”

The phone rings once, twice, and almost finishes the third before he picks up. “Hello?”

“Hi,” you say, a smile curling your lips.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, tone slightly curt, and it dawns on you that he most certainly isn’t happy with you at the moment. 

“Are you alone?” you murmur into the phone, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Haechan?” 

He mutters a curse under his breath, no doubt affected by the need in your voice, before he grunts in acknowledgement. 

break up with your girlfriend yeah, yeah, ‘cause i’m bored

“I need you,” you admit plainly, and he groans, the sound tempted and tortured all in one. “Come over?”

You hear him mutter an excuse—something about fresh air—and the background noises shift to an outside soundscape; cars driving by in the distance, the rush of night air, and, most importantly, Haechan’s deep breathing.

“You know I can’t do that.” he replies finally, his voice gruff, yet you can hear the strain in his voice, the desperation for you not to tempt him any further.

you could hit it in the morning yeah, yeah, like it’s yours

So you do. “But Haechan…” you trail off, and you hear him hum curiously, making you smile before you continue, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

The barely controlled breathing on the other line stops abruptly before a low swear sounds out. “You’re joking.”

“Come over and find out.”

i know it ain’t right but i don’t care

The line goes silent for a moment. It’s so silent, in fact, that you fear he’s hung up. However, a ragged inhale sounds out from the other end before he says, “I don’t care if you’re wearing them right now or not, but they’d better be off by the time I get there.”

“Oh, yeah?” you hum, rolling over onto your stomach with a triumphant grin. 

“Yeah,” he grunts. “I don’t need anything in my way.” 

“Copy that,” you say with a giggle, heading to your front door and making sure your spare key is where it usually is. “Our spare key is under the doormat.”

“Good girl,” he breathes before the line goes dead. Instantly, your body thrums with anticipation, the knowledge of your forbidden lover’s imminent arrival filling you with desire and excitement. You can barely wait, alternating between thrashing around on your bed eagerly and fixing up your appearance in your vanity mirror. You decide to throw on a sleep shirt so you’re not just lying there too bare; you feel embarrassed enough thinking about how close you were to begging him on the phone.

You’re thrown out of your excited little frenzy when your front door slams shut and rapid footsteps sound out towards your bedroom. 

The door swings open and Haechan freezes in the doorway at the sight of your frame laid on your bed clad only in a bra and large t-shirt, a deep groan sounding from his throat as he clutches the doorknob so hard his knuckles whiten. 

“You’re unreal,” he spits out through gritted teeth as he quickly makes his way to the bed. As soon as he’s close enough to touch you, he’s flinging your legs apart and slotting himself between them as he pulls you into a fierce kiss by the back of your neck. “Thought I told you I don’t want anything in my way, hm?”

“I’m not wearing anything,” you say through a shaky exhale that cuts off when his fingers prove you right as they circle your bare, already pulsing clit.

“Closing your legs counts.” he huffs, dipping his middle finger into your warmth teasingly. When you cry out, he chuckles under his breath before retracting his finger and tracing yet another teasing round of circles around your clit. “Want my pretty girl on display for me.”

“It is for you,” you whimper, clutching at his shirt to pull him closer. 

“You sure it’s not for Jeno?” he practically spits his friend’s name, and you almost wince from the disapproving tone of his voice.

“No,” you whine, drawing out the syllable to emphasize your point. “Only you.”

“You’re lucky I like you so fucking much.” he grunts against your lips, and you giggle mischievously. 

“Mm, yeah?” you muse softly, carding your fingers through his brown locks at the nape of his neck. “How much?”

“So much that I’m gonna ignore your bratty little attitude from earlier and give you what you want.” He pulls back from your lips and fixes you with a stare that dares you to contradict him, and you fall silent.

Satisfied, his fingers slide down your stomach over your shirt to slip between your legs once more, stroking and pinching and massaging your clit as you squirm and whimper under him. 

His gaze falls on your face, watching you intently as your features twitch and contort with the different pleasurable sensations he’s giving to you. Haechan pushes two digits into your clenching entrance, hissing when you mewl softly in pleasure and responding by curling his fingers up and starting to move them in and out inside of you.

The room is gradually filled with your panting, whimpering, and pleading as he pumps his fingers into you and he presses his lips to yours, momentarily silencing you as he swallows your moans with his heated kiss. 

“Good?” he breathes, and you nod, prompting him to smile against your lips before kissing down to your neck. “Need to hear you,” he reminds you, and you swallow thickly before speaking.

”Good,” you confirm breathlessly, and he chuckles. “So, so good—yes—fuck, right there—”

“Here?” he taunts, curling his fingers to fuck into the patch of nerves along your inner walls that made you cry out, and you nod vigorously, clutching at his arm tightly. 

“Exactly—please don’t stop,” you plead in a broken sob, and he coos affectionately, nipping at the thin skin of your neck. Swirling his tongue over your pulse point before pressing a soft smattering of kisses to the heated area, he keeps fucking you open with his fingers as he sucks just enough to make your head spin but not enough to leave any marks. “Haechan, I’m gonna cum—!”

“Good, baby,” he grunts, pulling away from your neck to study your face. His insistence to see you in such a vulnerable state makes heat rise to your cheeks and you turn your head to the side to avert your gaze. 

He shifts so he’s kneeling between your legs and brings his now free hand to your neck, cupping your jaw in his index and thumb fingers and turning your face back to his before adjusting his fingers to grip the side of your neck and keep you in place.

“Your pussy is so loud and wet, baby, you like this that much?” he’s teasing you without a doubt, but you can’t even protest, your climax so close you can practically taste it. “Cum, baby,” he urges through gritted teeth, “and keep those pretty eyes looking at me as you do.”

You oblige (not without difficulty) and lock eyes with Haechan right before your climax hits, your back arching off of the bed as your eyes screw shut. 

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers reverently, leaning over you to kiss you. “Like a little temptress.”

“I’m not,” you start to protest weakly, but as the pleasure courses through you, you can barely get the words out without them coming out as a pathetic whine. 

“You are,” he confirms as you finally start to come down from your high. “Dangerous as hell, too, and you know it.” He moves lower down your body, releasing your throat, and gazes up at you intently, waiting for you to lock eyes with him before he lets his tongue loll out of his mouth and wags it at you in a teasingly lewd gesture that makes you gasp.

Haechan presses a lingering kiss to just below the hem of your shirt, looking up at you before biting down on the fabric and dragging it up your torso until it’s bunched up above the swell of your breasts.

He shifts so he’s comfortably propped up beside you, one of his legs hooked around one of yours to prevent you from closing them, and he trails one glistening wet finger up from your pulsating core to travel across your stomach to stop right under the front center of your bra. He marvels at the shiny trail his finger left on your skin before dipping his head to drag his tongue up that exact path he just made. As his head moves up your body, his free hand pushes your bra up and over your breasts, granting himself free access to your chest.

He moans as he gropes your chest, kneading and squeezing the flesh between his fingers, and shifts closer to take your nipple into his mouth without warning.

You cry out in surprise and he chuckles around his mouthful of… well, you before pulling back just enough to grant you with the alluring visual of his full pink lips wrapped around your sensitive bud and his shiny wet tongue swirling around your raised flesh.

A shaky moan escapes you and he returns to sucking on your nipple, his tongue still unmistakably rolling around and over your bud even hidden away inside his mouth. 

Cupping your neglected breast with his free hand, he rolls your nipple between his index finger and thumb, tugging and flicking it to match the sensations he’s causing with his mouth. When he bites down, he pinches, and you whine in protest, squirming under him. The pressure is gone just as quickly as it was applied and he showers both breasts with kisses and gentle touches—you can’t quite tell if it’s an apology or a reward, but you’re not sure you mind.

“How are we feeling, baby?” he murmurs before swirling slow circles around your nipple with his tongue. 

“Good,” you breathe, and he grins, looking up at you before snaking his hand between your legs to touch your aching core. You breathe in sharply when his fingers brush your clit before dipping into you to explore your wetness.

“Fuck,” he mumbles in a daze, shifting down on the bed to get closer to where his fingers keep moving inside of you. “Feeling really good, aren’t you, baby?” His voice utterly fascinates you in its transparency; his tone is still lilting to tease you, but everything about his low, strained voice screams desperation to the point of ruin. 

“Let’s see if I can make you feel even better, yeah?” he moves further down the bed and between your legs, ducking his head down faster than you can collect yourself enough to warn him.

“Fuck—be careful, I’m sensitive—” you hiss, and he pulls away from your core, turning his head to kiss your inner thigh sweetly.

“I got you.” he assures you, and you practically melt into the mattress. 

His tongue finds the underside of your clit with ease, massaging the stiffened bud as a deep tremble runs through your body. Thick, wet, pink muscle swirls decadently around your clit, plush lips wrapping around to suck gently as you whine and rock your hips up and closer to his face.

He hooks his arms around your thighs, holding them open as he indulges himself in the taste of you. Flicking your bundle of nerves back and forth rapidly with the tip of his tongue slowly turns into long, heavy drags of his tongue flat against your core. With every rough lap at your clit, you jolt under his touch and struggle to remain in place as his tongue nestles between your folds to slurp at your slick entrance. 

His sounds are every bit as sinful as his tongue, desperate grunts and moans escaping him as he devours every last bit of you, and he sends you hurtling towards the edge unceremoniously when he pushes his tongue into you, letting the muscle fill you up to the best of its ability.

“God—” you hiss, and he chuckles, retracting his tongue from you (much to your dismay).

“You can take it, right?” he taunts softly, gazing up at you challengingly. “Of course you can, baby.” He pulls back slightly from your core to massage your lower thighs while leaving kisses all over the insides of your upper thighs. “You’re gonna take every bit of pleasure I give you, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you pant, scratching weakly at his scalp, “gonna take it all—”

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs adoringly, head returning to between your legs to resume his mind-scrambling combination of licking and sucking at your poor, hypersensitive core as you stumble closer and closer towards your climax.

“Mm—I’m gonna—fuck—cum, Haechan, stop—”

“Why would I stop?” Haechan replies with an amused scoff, lips still brushing your clit with every movement before he goes back to sucking, pulling his head back and letting your abused bud slip from between his lips. “You’re gonna give me everything I want, isn’t that right?”

“Ah—yes, yes, I am!” you agree hurriedly, desperate to reach your peak.

“Then give me those pretty moans and faces I like so much, hm?” he coos sweetly, finally coaxing you to your climax with his lips vibrating around your clit with every word. 

You cry out in ecstasy, eyes sliding shut as pleasure floods through your system, and his tongue is relentless against you, dipping into you to tease, swirling around, and licking at everything he can get his mouth on.

In the haze of your orgasm, your hand finds Haechan, the male linking his fingers with yours and placing your joined hands where your hip and thigh meet. He moves up to kiss you sweetly, lips locking intimately as the taste of your arousal swirls in both of your mouths. 

When he starts peppering kisses down lower, you wonder briefly what he’s up to before your eyes widen in realization as his movements become more determined and his path more clear in its ultimate destination.

“Hae–Haechan, what are you doing?” you complain, swatting at his head weakly, but he stops you with one hand, looping his fingers around your wrist and setting it down on the bed by your hips. 

“Trying to see if I could make you come again with my fingers and tongue.” he mutters distractedly before his tongue flicks the underside of your clit, making you jolt, and you immediately start squirming away even as he shifts to follow you, his fingers buried inside of you never once letting up in their relentless exploring of your walls.

“Please don’t,” you plead, and he shushes you sweetly.

“I know you can do it, baby—”

“I know I can, too! That’s not the problem,” you huff.

He raises both eyebrows in a silent cue for you to continue. “Then what’s the problem?” 

“Haechan, I can’t wait any longer.” you plead breathlessly, and he hums in understanding before pushing your legs wider apart and settling between them, watching you with fascination as he palms himself through his boxers.

“Is that right?” he asks, tilting his head to the side curiously, and you nod vehemently, reaching for his hips to pull him closer to you. You can feel the head of his cock pressing against your waiting entrance, anticipation thrumming in your veins. “Then I guess my pretty, spoiled baby shouldn’t have to wait any longer.” Without another word, he guides himself into you, hissing in pleasure as you cry out in relief.

He pulls out to the tip, rubbing it against your slick folds and collecting your arousal on his length before he pushes into you as deep as he can, letting out a groan of satisfaction as your walls clench around him, greedily sucking him in as far as possible.

He pulls one of your legs up so your calf rests on his shoulder and pushes two fingers past your lips, eyes darkening as he watches you suck them.

“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he says, pulling out halfway before sending his hips snapping into yours with a powerful thrust that makes you cry out in surprise, the sound garbled by his middle and ring fingers on your tongue. 

He starts to fuck into you roughly, his cock hitting places along your inner walls that have you seeing stars, and it’s all you can do to focus on the task of swirling your tongue around his fingers, drool already pooling beneath your tongue before slowly dripping down your chin.

“Messy baby,” he coos patronizingly, and you can only offer a scratchy moan in response, one of your hands moving to cup your breast and squeeze. “Were you jealous, baby? Hm?” he teases, and you can’t find it in you to lie, nodding your head emphatically as he pounds into you. “Yeah? You were?” He’s absolutely making fun of your irrational reaction earlier, and you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to—not with the way his length fills you up just right and hits all the right spots. 

“Feels—so good—” you moan around his fingers, and he pulls them from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting them to your bottom lip before he’s leaning forward and kissing you passionately, his tongue licking at the drool on your chin before pushing into your mouth and flicking at your own tongue playfully.

“Were you thinking about me stuffing my cock in someone that’s not you?” he pants, never relenting on his thrusts, and you nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the sheer amount of pleasure flooding through your body. “It’d never be the same, baby,” he assures you, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. “Your pussy squeezes my cock just fucking right,” he grunts, “and you’re so wet I could just slip right out of you.” 

At his words, you panic, clutching at him to pull him closer to you, making him snicker condescendingly. “No, don’t go—stay—stay with me, stay in me, I need you, please—” you babble, and his gaze darkens at the sound of your begging, lips parting slightly as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“No, you don’t want me to pull out, right?” he riles you up further, mocking the frantic way you shake your head no with a devilish grin on his face. “Want me nice and deep in this pretty pussy so you can cream all over my cock.”

“Haechan—” you gasp, almost entirely overwhelmed. “Haechan, I’m so cl—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he shushes you comfortingly, dare you say lovingly, his gentle words starkly contrasting the powerful way he drives his hips into you. “I got you. Go ahead and let go.”  

When your climax hits, you genuinely feel like you’re falling apart in the best way possible. Your whole body tenses, curling in on itself, wound up tight like a coil before the tension snaps and your muscles go slack from exhaustion, your mouth seemingly stuck open in a soundless gasp as ecstasy blooms all throughout your body.

Haechan watches you come undone with wild, adoring eyes, wetting his lips before meeting your lips in a heated, wet kiss made all the more sloppy by the fact that you can’t seem to move your mouth the way you want to in order to return his kisses. 

Desperate pants and whimpers fall from your parted lips as you messily move them against his mouth, cheeks warming with embarrassment at the sound of his amused chuckle.

“Am I fucking you that good, baby? You forgot how to kiss me back?” he taunts you breathlessly, and all you can do is nod pathetically, reaching for his face with trembling hands connected to arms that feel like jelly. He lets you cup his face, only slowing down his thrusts ever so slightly so you can properly kiss him back, Haechan humming contently into the kiss. When you two part, you feel a cool bead of your mixed saliva drip down from your no doubt swollen bottom lip, and he grins. “That’s more like it.”

He sits back upright and his hands cup under your thighs, caressing the flesh before moving your legs one at a time so your ankles are resting on his shoulders and his length is hitting spots that keep making fireworks go off in your vision. 

“Good like this?” he asks in a soft murmur, and you nod quickly, making him snicker fondly. “Eager, huh?”

“Feels so good, Haechan,” you moan, slurring your words slightly from all the pleasure. 

“Fuck, you sound so tempting.” he grunts, drilling his thick length into your core. “Keep talking, baby.”

You, quite frankly, do not know what the hell you’re about to say, given that your brain is a puddle of arousal right now, but you’d do damn near anything to keep Haechan inside of you at this point.

“Feels so full,” you whimper, clutching his forearm tightly. “So full—feels so good—fuck, right there!”

“Here, baby? Right here?” he’s absolutely taunting you, but you can tell by the tensing of his muscles and the hard, slow blink he gives that he’s nowhere near unaffected.

“Mm, yeah,” you sigh blissfully as your stomach starts to furl and unfurl in that familiar way. You reach up to cup your breasts, squeezing them and tugging on your nipples. You’re so lost in your own world of mind-numbing pleasure that it doesn’t even register that Haechan’s watching you until he nips at your ankle to get your attention. 

“Look at me, baby.” he orders gently, and you oblige (not without difficulty) as he watches you come undone. The final blow is when he reaches between your bodies to toy with your clit and you just about fall apart right there. “Hold it in for me, baby.”

“Wh–?” you splutter, baffled.

“Trust me, baby, it’s gonna feel so good in a second—”

“Haechan,” you interrupt, unable to take it for much longer as you reach up and cup his chin, pulling him closer to you. “Please—”

“Fuck,” he mutters, “I can’t say no to you.”

“Then don’t,” you practically cry, tears welling up from frustration and pleasure.

“My pretty girl wants to cum, yeah?” he grunts, and you nod, reaching to pull him closer.

“Want to cum with you, Haechan—you cum, too—” you manage to get out between gasps and moans, and his thrusts falter for a second as he looks down at you in poorly concealed surprise.

“Say that again,” he mumbles, and you feel the shift in the energy as he stares down at you with an expression suspiciously close to loving. “Please, baby, say it again?”

“Will you cum with me, Haechan?” you ask softly and hesitantly, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable from the request.

“You are so—” he mutters in awe, adoration twinkling in his hopeful eyes before he leans down to kiss you, this kiss far more slow and deliberate than you’re used to. “I can’t get enough of you—I’ll never get enough of you—” 

“Haechan, move, please—” you beg, and he seems to remember his situation, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he slowly builds back up to the pace you were at previously. 

“Baby—” he hisses, his brow furrowing, “I’m close—gonna cum—”

“Me too,” you whine, digging your nails into his forearms and making him grit his teeth. “Cum inside?”

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he moans, burying his face in your neck before bringing two fingers to your clit to tease the bundle of nerves with rapid circles.

With languid, heated kisses being left all over your face, neck, and chest, and Haechan’s skilled fingers massaging your clit while his girthy length drags in and out of your clenching core, you climax with a deep shudder, your torso attempting to curl in on itself as he holds you firmly in place. True to your wishes, his hips stutter as he comes to bury himself inside of you and release into you, wet lips sucking at the flesh of your neck as he muffles his moan into your skin.

He drags his lips up a blazing path to meet your own, connecting them in a deep, slow, passionate kiss.

For a moment, you’re so entranced by his kisses that you think you might be able to cum again just from this.

His tongue strokes against yours, swirling and flicking sensually as he slowly ruts his hips against yours in smooth rolling motions that have you whimpering into the kiss and realizing that, yes, you very well might actually cum again just from this.

He pulls back to suck on your bottom lip before releasing it and meeting your gaze with a heady blend of lust and adoration swirling in his eyes, taking a moment to take in the sight of you in your unraveled state before leaning back in to kiss you once more.

“Haechan,” you manage to breathe between kisses, your voice pathetically whiny. He mimics your plaintive tone, humming in acknowledgement, and you cry out weakly, all too aware of the arousal collecting between your legs. “Gonna—wanna—wanna cum just like this,” you moan into his parted lips, and you feel him hesitate for half a second, his surprise practically tangible.

“Yeah, baby? You wanna cum just from my kissing?” he pants, voice unmistakably thick with desire. “Cum for me, baby.” His words are urgent but soft, filled with patience and a tenderness you can’t ignore.

You take over the pace of the movements, shifting to slot one of his legs between yours and rolling your hips up against his to send your bare core dragging up his thigh. A sharp hiss of surprise escapes you, followed by a sigh of relief when the friction is just right.

“My messy girl feels good, yeah? My pretty, messy baby wants to fuck my thigh? You’re so wet, baby, you’re gliding on me.” He leans down to murmur in your ear, that taunting lilt creeping back into his tone, but you haven’t forgotten the main event.

“Haechan, kiss me,” you whine, scratching at his back demandingly. He wastes no time in obliging, sealing his lips over yours with a content hum. Between the strokes of his tongue, the gentle sucking and kissing of his lips, and the friction his thigh is giving your poor clit, you’re coming undone yet again, this one a quiet, powerful climax that leaves your mind fuzzy and has you feeling like you’re on cloud nine. 

As soon as your climax subsides, Haechan is quick to pull up his boxers and take you into his arms, pulling you against his chest firmly and pressing kisses to the crown of your head.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers soothingly. “You did so well, baby, I’m proud of you.”

You can’t even manage to mask your reaction to his praise, your face warming as you start to smile bashfully, and he chuckles, pressing kisses down from the top of your head to your forehead, the bridge of your nose, the tip, and finally connecting with your lips. 

“I’ll clean us up in a bit, just give me a minute to be with you.” he assures you, and warmth blooms in your chest at his words, a small nod all you can manage in reply as you look up at him curiously.

“You good?” you ask softly, fingers carefully trailing along his bare chest, and he chuckles quietly, nodding with certainty.

“Never better, actually.” he responds, and you hum in acknowledgement, your mind starting to wander back to the events that transpired earlier in the evening and you swallow in an attempt to moisten your now dry throat as you think back to what exactly got Haechan over to your apartment. 

“You know we’re gonna have to talk about it eventually,” Haechan pipes up, voice a throaty rumble, and you don’t need to look up to know he’s looking at you. 

Wordlessly, you shift so you’re on your side, one leg over his as you resume your delicate but purposeful stroking of his chest and torso. He’s still silent as he presumably waits for your response, and you decide to amp up your actions in an attempt to distract him, lightly dragging your fingernails down his stomach to tease at the waistband of his boxers. 

keep it one hundred, babe we both know i’m not the only one

“I know what you’re doing,” Haechan murmurs lowly, poorly attempting to conceal how affected he is.

but when i’m there, you treat a n**** real good and that’s probably why i always come

You hum softly in acknowledgement, continuing your movements, and blink up at him slowly. “Oh, yeah? What am I doing?”

“You’re distracting me,” he protests weakly, and you exhale quietly in amusement. “From being mad at you.”

“Do you want to be mad at me?” you sniffle, feigning hurt, and he chuckles before shaking his head slowly. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I need to express my feelings,” he groans when your manicured nails slip under the waistband of his boxers. “Get shit off my chest.” Completely contrary to his words, he tries to lift his hips subtly, urging your hand to move against him, and you snicker under your breath.

“You’re talking a lot but you’re literally guiding my hand into touching you.”

“Am not,” he says breathlessly, and you raise your eyebrows. 

“No?” you say softly, trailing your hand up his body to trace small circles around his navel that have him shuddering visibly. “So you don’t like this?”

“N-No,” he grunts quietly, his eyes traitorously sliding shut in bliss when you scrape your nails down to his boxers again. He, remarkably enough, refuses to meet your eyes, and you correctly deduce that this must be Haechan’s first attempt to lie to you.

“Then tell me to stop.” Your reply is simple, but he buffers nonetheless, mouth momentarily opening and closing not unlike a goldfish. “Haechan?”

“Yeah?” he moans—the poor thing couldn’t hold it any longer, you suppose. 

“Tell me.” 

“Tell you what?” You can’t help but admire his ability to be a brat until the bitter end.

“About your feelings, Haechan,” you drawl sarcastically, Haechan grunting softly before you continue, “I wanna know how you feel.”

“God, fuck,” he hisses when you dip your fingers lower than they’ve gone so far to stroke at the skin just above the base of his cock. “Feels good.” he slurs without thinking and you giggle when he freezes like he’s a deer caught in headlights. 

“What was that, Haechan?” you tease quietly, the tip of your nose trailing across his cheek as you move to kiss his jaw.

“It feels good,” he confesses, and you reward his honesty by wrapping your hand around the base of his length and starting to stroke him. It’s a mess of slick arousal and sweat mixed on his shaft and it’s difficult to maintain a good grip on him, but your actions are clearly appreciated with the way he twitches and grows to life in your hand.

Overwhelmed with the sudden pleasure, Haechan noses his way down to your neck to kiss and suck gently at the skin as a way to distract himself.

“Still want to talk about your feelings, Haechan?” you offer, and he takes a moment away from your neck to look up and glower at you.

“I want you to keep moving your hand,” he replies.

You pout. “But your feelings are important.”

“You’re so evil,” Haechan slurs slightly. “I love it.”

“How is it evil to want to discuss your feelings?” you ask curiously, attempting to sound as not guilty as possible.

“You know good and well all I’m thinking about now has nothing to do with that schmuck you tried to piss me off with earlier and everything to do with how you look and feel right now.”

You can’t help but snort in amusement. “Not you calling him a schmuck. Haechan, where’d you even learn that word?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“But do you know what that even means? How is Jeno a schmuck—?” 

Haechan growls under his breath, shifting smoothly to hover on top of you. “Not you repeatedly bringing him up when I’m clearly trying to get over it.”

“Shutting up now.” you nod resolutely, and he snickers, studying your expression with a fond smile before leaning down to kiss you. 

You’re not sure if it’s from his being so worked up or your building desire for him, but the kiss shifts the dynamic, Haechan rolling onto his side and urging you to do the same. You can feel the head of his length rhythmically pressing between where your thighs meet as he shamelessly ruts his hips against you and the realization makes between your legs warm, desire slicking your inner thighs. 

His tongue gliding past your parted lips draws forth a low whine from you as you let Haechan kiss you however he pleases, content with simply basking in the attention.

Finally growing satisfied with the amount of kisses he’s gotten, Haechan breaks the kiss with a surprisingly lewd, wet smacking noise and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, chuckling softly when you squirm. 

“Mm… what if I marked you up?” he mumbles, brushing his lips against your skin. “Fucked with that pretty skin of yours so everyone knows you’re taken?”

You scoff in surprise and amusement. “I’m taken? That’s bold of you, Haechan.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t like it,” he retorts, hand sliding up between your legs to tease the skin of your thighs just before your core. “Being mine.” His voice is muffled but his words ring out loud and clear, making you balk as you realize you’re more intrigued by the thought than you initially imagined.

You clear your throat softly before enunciating your next words carefully. “Is she an example of how you treat things you call yours?”

His fingers still and you feel the small warm puff of a sigh—whether it’s defeat or exasperation, you’re unsure—against your neck before he shifts to rest his elbow on the bed and his cheek in his palm. His fingers slowly resume their teasing strokes, dancing up closer to your folds, digits dragging along the wetness smeared on the insides of your thighs.

“She was never really mine, I don’t think.” he muses softly, and you snort, rolling your eyes.

“She’s like the perfect girlfriend.” you reply flatly.

“She’s too nice,” he argues back, and your features contort into confusion as you splutter in incredulity.

“You’re just making up shit!” you counter. “How is she too nice?”

“Hear me out, okay?” Haechan replies, an edge to his voice that leaves you silent and expecting his next words. “She doesn’t make me feel… special.”

“Okay…”

“She’s about as nice to me as she was in the beginning. I don’t feel like,” he pauses, swallowing as he chooses his next words, “she became any more endeared to me. I just got the Girlfriend Package with no upgrades down the line or anything.”

“If you want a real upgrade, you’d have to buy a ring.” You turn your head to look at him with your brows raised and a teasing grin.

“I’m not talking about wifely upgrades!” he clarifies immediately, and you can’t help but laugh. He watches you with a look dangerously close to adoration on his face before he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re really something.”

“I’m something?” you reply defensively, and he nods slowly, regarding you as if you’re stupid.

“Who called me over here at ass o’clock in the morning to fuck her because she didn’t like how touchy my girlfriend was being earlier?”

“Who came?” you retort, and he narrows his eyes.

“Who did all that before the cum of her last sexcapade had even finished drying inside of her?”

“Who had every chance to shut me down and tell me to move on, hm?”

“Your only rebuttal is that I came over?”

“You chose to come over.” you point out, sitting up to swing your leg over his hips and maneuver yourself into a sitting position on his thighs. 

“You used your friend with a sickeningly fat crush on you to make me jealous.”

“Well, you got jealous,” you remind him with a small smug grin. “With a whole girlfriend, too, Haechan—you should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Okay, we’re both something.” he gives in, and you nod, dragging your nails down his chest slowly and relishing the hiss and groan that he lets out. “Now what?”

“What do you think?” you ask softly, your head cocked to the side curiously.

“Are you asking me to leave her for you?” he asks, and the careful way he utters the words makes your skin crawl as you realize that ultimately, that choice will have to happen one way or another.

“No,” you say finally, the word feeling strange on your tongue, almost bitter with deceit. “Just know that the day I ask you to choose between me or her, you will have officially gotten me royally fucked up.”

He snorts in amusement, his hands moving to caress your hips. “Royally, huh?”

“Astronomically.” you stress with a solemn nod. “Egregiously, even.”

“That’s pretty fucked up.” he notes with a growing smile. “Hopefully we don’t get to that point.” He brings one of his hands to yours on his chest and laces his fingers between yours, lifting your entwined hands to his mouth to kiss the heel of your palm and up your inner wrist, your forearm, the crook of your arm, all the while pulling you closer to his mouth, moving your bodies until he’s rolled you over and slotted himself between your legs, lips now exploring the bare flesh of your shoulders, neck, and jaw before slowly moving to kiss you. 

He kisses you like he’s savoring the moment, clutching the back of your neck and moving his lips against yours desperately, his tongue seeking solace in the wet warmth of your mouth as he groans lewdly into the kiss.

“Haechan,” you gasp for air when you two part, and he hums sweetly in acknowledgment. “You can’t be seriously going for another round right now.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” he replies, shrugging with a small smile. “For now, just be good and let me love on you, baby.”

So you do just that, readily supplying all the pretty moans he urges from your lips and rolling your hips against his wandering fingers as his erection slowly stirs and hardens against your thigh. Every once in a while, however, you can’t shake the growing feeling that everything may be going a bit too well right now—that is, until he pushes into you slowly and draws a gasp from you, your thoughts almost dissipating entirely.

You hope and wish with all your might that this bliss could remain for just a moment longer but you know all too well that good things like this never seem to last.

TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! the fifth 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 FINISH THE FIC? it’s available in its entirety on my patreon here!

[celaenaeiln]

Dick Grayson's talent for manipulation literally brings the world to its knees.

Part 1 post

My absolute favorite trait about Dick aside from his craziness is his ability to control every single person in existence. The best part is, he's so clever in the way that he does it that people almost never notice.

Bart Allen

"Oh! Ahh..you're trying to get my DNA sample. You need my spit! Ha! That's such a Dick Grayson thing to do."

Bart knows!! Dick's brilliantly sly okay. Honey catches more flies that vinegar? He takes it so far that breaks he the ceiling with it because by the time he's done, people don't even know they've been manipulated. And if they do, then what can they do about it? He always wins.

With friends and family he does it to make them feel better without being so overt and discomforting them.

Justice League: Road to Dark Crisis

Jon came to him when he was feeling lost and upset and Dick set up the perfect conditions to encourage him and pick him up. He's just so good at doing what he's doing but he does it for all the right reasons.

But the extent Dick can go trick and manipulate someone is off the charts. A virtuoso.

In a Titans comic, Dick literally spent MONTHS acting depressed and weak after Donna, Wally, and Garth were kidnapped to another dimension by a villain just so he could trick the villain into thinking that his career was over and bring him into the same dimension so Dick could take him down.

He fooled everyone.

Teen Titans: The Silver Age TBP 2 Part #1

"Batman taught me how to be a totally convincing actor! So if the only way you could send me here with your ring was if I filled my brain with evil thoughts, I just faked it! My facial expression was pure evil-but my mind remained pure good." MONTHS.

He planned, pretended, and calculated every single fiber of his own mind and body until the whole world was fooled by his acting. He tricked an interdimensional being who had psychic access. That means he was so extraordinarily manipulative, he can control his own thoughts inside his head to trick someone else. Voldemort's legilimens has nothing on Dick's talent.

Like Bart, sometimes his allies are aware of this like with Selina-

Gotham City Sirens Issue #23

Selina's literally having a mental breakdown trying not to fall for Dick's manipulation and tricks.

But even if they know he's manipulating them, they still are forced to fall for it anyway.

Gotham City Sirens Issue #23

"Damn it."

Like a goldilocks mad scientist - he does it just right.

His acting is just so on point that he outschemes the schemer.

When the Crime Syndicate (Superwoman, Ultraman, Owlman, Power ring, etc) arrive on Earth to take it over when Dick is Batman, Dick needs to do something fast. But to make things worse, there's a being that's so powerful, that both the Crime Syndicate and Justice League combined have a snowball's chance in hell of defeating him.

So what does Dick do? He runs the game.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

"Of course he had a plan the whole time. He's Batman. He always has a plan."

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

He tricks everyone.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

And in the end, the Justice League wins and Dick saves the world.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

I love how they characterized Owlman as a snake because that would make Dick a mongoose since mongoose eats snakes. And do you know what Mongoose represent in folklore? Action, adventure, boldness, fearlessness, impulsiveness, independence, optimism, rebellion, resistance, resourcefulness, speed, adaptation, agility, quickness, intelligence and wit. All characteristics that define him.

He plays the world like a chessboard, always five steps ahead.

He always has an ace hidden up his sleeve.

His thoughts are always masked behind a disarming smile.

He has mastered the art of manipulation.

And that's while he's outright fighting. His subtlety is just so seductive.

Take a look at the way he smoothly evades answering in this panel -

Grayson Issue #9

He's so smooth. She's constantly on the watch but she instantly fell head over heels for his charms in a half a heartbeat, that's just how good he is.

Grayson Issue #10

He's a master manipulator who knows exactly what to say and how to act to always end up winning.

It's seriously such a shame that one of his greatest skills and talents isn't talked about more because this man?! Flawless.

He's the spy everyone on TV wishes they could be. He's the type of spy people read about in history books and marvel at the ease, grace, and legendary story he leaves behind. He's the spy that everyone knows and dreams of in their fantasies.

Nightwing (2016)

And oh how they so are.

He can just get people to do whatever he wants.

There's a reason why Batman's only contingency plan against Nightwing is "Let's hope he fucks up." Because with his intelligence, skill, power, charisma, and raw talent - he's goddamn unstoppable.

[writingbyshiloh]

Third Time's the Charm

Request: Hii,if your request are still open can i request something for Gen V?Can you write something where Jordan and fem reader are childhood best friends and Jordan had always been in love with her but they feel insecure because they don’t know if reader will like them in both forms romantically?So when,in ep 3,Jordan dad goes like “Y/n and Jordan will be husband and wife” reader goes “Maybe we will be wife and wife”because she loves Jordan just like they are?

AN: Reader wants to be the first supe president (just to explain why they’re at the gala), I changed the timeline of the ep a tiny bit. I have another request about meeting Jordan's parents but that one might be more angsty.

CW: fem!reader, kissing, no beta, Jordan's parents are just their warning. The start is all flashbacks so I may have slipped on the tense a few times, no beta

WC: 2.0K

Jordan Li was your first kiss. Twice. The first time was in kindergarten, when they tried to kiss you and you smacked them with your Queen Mauve lunch box. Your second first kiss (the one you consider your actual first kiss) was done by you while playing truth or dare at 14. After picking a dare, you were asked to kiss the best-looking guy in the group. You shrugged and picked your best friend - Jordan. 

At age six, they were there when you broke your ankle trying to see if you could fly (you couldn’t). When you did get powers, they were the first person you told.

When Jordan came out to you as bigender, you did an internet deep-dive, trying to understand as much as possible.

Jordan listened to every interaction you had with your high school crush while quietly dying inside, wanting you to be happy. When your high school boyfriend cheated on you and then dumped you for the girl he cheated with, Jordan was there, ready to sink hours into their Xbox to keep you distracted.

The worst week of your life was when you didn't speak to Jordan for 9 whole days. You got into a petty argument where you called them self-absorbed and they called you clingy. The fight snowballed into yelling arguments and ended with you receiving a cold shoulder from Jordan. 

When Jordan got their wisdom teeth removed, you camped out in their room, snuggled under their duvet with them to watch Property Brothers for two days straight. You even made sure they took their painkillers on time and used ice packs.

Every fight with their parents, you were outside in your car ready to pick up Jordan to stay with you. Once you showed up at their house at 6:03 am, eyes blurry with sleep and still in pyjamas. Jordan was crying, bob haircut looked messy from sleep. You drove them to Vought-A-Burger, still half asleep and ate greasy breakfast sandwiches in your car until Jordan stopped crying. 

Jordan was even your date to prom, taking photos with you in their masculine form to get their parents off their back. Once their parents were happy, you snuck them back to yours, where you stashed their prom dress. 

You both even applied to God U together. Too nervous to check your acceptance, Jordan checked yours and you checked theirs. Sitting across from each other on your bed you both log in before giving the laptops to each other.

“Okay, three, two, one…” you counted down, opening Jordan’s laptop. Your eyes scanned for any promising words like congratulations, or welcome. "Accepted" was the first word your eyes caught but you need to fuck with them.

“Jord… I’m so sorry.” You start. Their face falls, and you feel like a dick for doing this. But the opportunity is too good to pass up. “That you believed me! Because you got in!”

They lunged across your bed to see what the screen says. You saw Jordan's eyes scan the same letter you just read, picking out the same words. 

“You’re such an asshole!” they told you, rolling their eyes, gently hitting your arm with the back of their hand

You’ve never been shy about showering Jordan with compliments. Saved in screenshots never to see the light of day, Jordan has kept some of them. 

You: OMG!!! Jordan you’re so pretty. I’m so lucky to call you my friend. 

You: You’re so handsome!!! I love your hair slicked back! If she doesn’t agree you need to drop her. 

You: ur a solid 9/10. Lost a point for not giving me a sip of your drink yesterday lol

Jordan Li has been in love with you since age 16. Probably earlier, if they want to admit that to themselves. You’ve only ever expressed interest in men so they kept their feelings to themselves, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, figuring it was better to have you as a friend only than not at all. 

In your first year, you were even roommates. While Jordan flourished in crim, you bounced between majors before settling into politics.

Every time you brought some frat guy to your shared dorm, Jordan died inside. Trying to get over their long-standing crush, Jordan did the same.

When Jordan made number 2 on the top five, you celebrate with them. Maybe a bit too hard that night.

You were there when their ranking dropped after the death of Brink. A man you only met twice, but you would do anything for Jordan. Especially given how hard you fell for both versions of them last year.

“I’m going to try to tag team with your dad, get some points for you and keep him engaged, yeah?” You ask over your shocker. Jordan is behind you, ready to help with zipper duty for your dress.

“You don’t have to.”

You let out a small scoff. “Dude. I’m doing poli supe. Schmoozing with rich people is like half our courses. Zip me up please.”

“How long have you known Jordan? You seem to be a good couple.” The man you and Jordan's dad suckered into a conversation asks. He's sitting beside Jordan's parents, while you and Jordan are on the edge of some fancy pit or table. 

“Well, these two have known each other pretty well over the years. Jordan tried to kiss her when they were kids, and she hit him with her Black Noir lunch box.”

“It was a Queen Mauve lunch box, actually.” You say with a laugh.

“And she called him ‘Jojo’ for probably the next two years out of spite.” Kayla laughs. It's a special embarrassment when your parents tell stories about your childhood. All the stories are about you but it's been so long ago you can’t remember any of it. Jordan looks worse off, slouchy posture against the banister, while you sit next to him. Part of you wants to tell him to sit up straight, but you figure you can play the grief angle better this way. 

“Oh, and remember when Jordan got his wisdom teeth out? You guys were inseparable. I think I still have the photo of you two passed out watching TV!” Kayla gushes, reaching for her phone to find the photo.

“We all thought you two would be president and First Gentleman.” Dad insists. Your smile is fake and tight, knowing if Paul pulls out prom photos, you would have to quietly fling yourself out of a window. 

Maybe you drank a bit too much liquid courage. Maybe the tension between them and their parents was getting to you. To give Jordan some space, you took their parents for a tour of your classes, knowing they’ll be talking to your family when they go back to Rochester.

Jordan shifting doesn’t even cause you to raise an eyebrow, the subtle sound just blurs into the background.

“Or president and First Lady.” You blurt out, four pairs of eyes darting towards you. “First supes in the Whitehouse? It would be political dynamite.”

“You like this version of Jordan?” Dad asks with bewilderment.

“Of course. I like Jordan because of how smart and driven they are. I like Jordan because of their weird sense of humour. It doesn’t matter what they look like.” you say, trying to prove it to their parents, but also to them. You’ve picked up on their crush many times, too kind to say something that would embarrass them or hurt them. It’s only recently how much you found yourself staring at fem Jordan and wanting to kiss her too. 

“I’m going to go and mingle some more.” says the man, Brad or Rob maybe. You forgot his name right after you met him. His words are like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. You don’t confess your feelings to Jordan just to Jordan, but in front of their judgy parents, and a possible donner. You need to go. 

You stand and straighten out your dress. 

“I’m going to go too. Other donors to talk to. Go Jordan!" You finish with an awkward laugh and even more cringy go team! gesture by yourself. 

You didn't lie to Jordan and their parents. You did go and talk to other donors but it twists your stomach every time you bring up how amazing their grades are, or how skillful they are at fighting. After donor number three gives you an answer that technically was “we’ll see” but heavily implied to be "yes for Jordan” you went to hide in the bathroom. You have enough battery left on your V-phone to keep it going for most of the night. Tomorrow you can talk to Jordan and hope you don’t fuck it all up. 

You barely look up when the door opens, already have done too much for the day to care who it is. 

‘Hey, can we talk?” You snap to attention at the voice. Of course, you know that voice. It's Jordan, still feminine presenting. 

“Fuck, Jord, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have spring that on you. I promise I’ll just go back and try to get you some votes, you’re going through a lot.” You say, in a rush to get the words out, desperate not to fuck up you’re friendship. The rim of the sink is hard against your back but you can’t help but shrink into it. 

“Did you mean it?” They ask, still keeping a distance from you.

“Yeah, of course, I don’t want to ruin this friendship.”

“No, what you said in front of my parents.” 

Oh right. Your confession. Fuck. It's already out there, might as well keep it going. 

“I may, uh-” you curse yourself for leaving your drink outside the bathroom, wanting something in your hands to stall. “-have a crush. On you. My best friend.” You twist your hands together, wishing Jordan didn’t look so pretty. If your heart beats any faster you may go into cardiac arrest. 

It's Jordan that indicates your third first kiss. It's gentle, and fast, like the second one. She pulls back quickly, but you run your fingers through her hair and pull her closer. The intensity from the first first kiss is still there, only this time you both share it. Her hand smooths up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek in a silent invitation to open your mouth. You comply, and tilt your head into her palm. Her tongue sweeps into your mouth and you can taste the champagne they were drinking. 

The sound of the door opening makes you both jump.

“Stall?” You ask, voice low and hushed. You squirm out from where she has you between the sink and her. You push the door open to the nicest-looking stall, desperate to keep kissing Jordan. They follow your lead eagerly, one hand wrapped around your shoulder to keep you near. 

Dipping their head, they softly kiss your jaw before moving onto your neck. You silently thank the other two women arguing in the bathroom so that your gasp goes unnoticed. Giving Jordan's hair a small tug, you pull them back up to you. The shit-eating grin they flash you makes you want to almost get caught again. 

Your free hand moves to their waist, trying to get as close to them as physically possible. 

You pull back slightly, wanting so desperately to get lost in the moment, but the commotion in the other stall is distracting. Plus you’re nosey.

Jordan frowns when you pull away, eyes scanning your face for something they did wrong. You shake your head and tip it over to the stall.

“The fuck?” They mouth to you, hand still around your shoulder.

You gently push Jordan against the door to give yourself space to squat down. You see two pairs of feet in the stall across the wall. You hear the voices quiet down, before the sound of someone peeing. You frown slightly, weird fetish to do at a memorial gala but you hear rumours about students into more fucked up shit. 

“We should get outta here.” You whisper to Jordan. 

“Weird place for our third first kiss.” Jordan whispers back. You reach around them to unlock the stall door. Third first kiss. You replay the words in your head, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. 

You gently push them out of the stall, trying to keep your laughs quiet as you both scurry past the other couple in the stall. 

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC x DP: Dog Walker

Danny needs someone to walk his dog.

He had been in Gotham for about five months when it became apparent he needed companionship.

Ever since Clockwork and Frostbite came to the same decision to move Danny to a new universe for his health- his core was deteriorating due to his obsession being fulfilled as Amity Park was safe, and everyone was ready to grow up and move on.

So Danny moved to a rough city in a harsh universe so that the danger could help his core restart his obsession.

The first few weeks were fine; he even found work as a computer program designer that allowed him to work from home thanks to his universe's advanced technology, but soon, he struggled with loneliness and homesickness—that was where his dog came into the picture.

He adopted Equinox- Nox for short- from the local shelter, and while Nox was a mutt with unknown parents, Danny had no trouble taking care of him.

That was until he accepted a job offer at Wayne Enterprise, and his work hours shifted from remote work seven days a week to four days. He wasn't stimulating Equinox properly by keeping him inside the three days he was out and his poor boy was suffering from it.

This could have easily be solved with a pet sitter or just a dog walker but this is Gotham. Danny knows he picked this place for its constant danger to keep his obsession active but he just wasn't expecting Gotham to be so...much.

He had a panic attack just thinking about what would happened to Nox if he trusted just anyone to take care of him.

Nox is the only living being that is under his Protection. It went against his very Instincts to not find someone he trusted utterly to walk him.

Danny checks his phone to see Nox peaceful sleeping in his doggy bed and sighs. His boy has been sleeping more and more lately, losing his bright spark.

"Whats wrong Danny?" Karla, one of the Office interns, asks from where she is walking along side him.

"Nothing, it's just my dog needs to go for a walk, and I'm not there to give him one." He says, turning the screen. "I wish I can have some one walk hin for me-"

"Understood. I shall pick up your dog tomorrow, Fenton," a tiny voice cuts in. The two turn around only to look down at the green eyes of Damian Wayne. His bosses' son and brother. Oh boy.

"Ugh, I'm sorry?" He blinks as the youngest, Wayne thrusts a piece of paper at him. Danny has no choice but to hesitantly takes the paper. On it is a professional if short resume belonging to Damian that highlights his skillset and community service.

"Father has informed me of the family tradition started by our Pennyworth. Every Wayne gets a part-time job from twelve to grow character." The boy says, hands behind him and back straight, appearing every bit his status. Also, it is like a little kid trying to appear as an adult. Danny found it kind of cute, and it reminded him of Jazz. "I have multiple experiences with animals, as you can see from volunteering at the local shelters. My fees for my services are also meager and would surely not be difficult to cover."

Danny's core turned cold, but not in the wrong way. It was a cooling sensation he had associated with a fun day of either a snowball fight or the fresh first fall. He knew he could trust the boy.

"You know what? Yeah I love it if you walked my dog. In fact would you be interested in being a dog sitter?"

The boy's green eyes brightened with childish glee, but he tried to remain serious. Danny's heart melted at the sight. Oh, he should call Jazz soon. "That would be most acceptable."

Unknown to Danny, Karla, or Damian, Dick Grayson watched the trio as his brother handed one of the most mysterious employees a resume. Now, why would Fenton want to be close to Damian?

Over the last few months, people have been trying to take advantage of Damian because they thought his brother stupid for his mixed blood, just as they did when Bruce first took him in.

Danny doesn't mind Alfred's rule to find a part-time job to help teach them values, but he finds people aren't as kind as they should be. He'll have to keep an eye on this Danny Fenton.

Maybe he can help co-sit his dog.