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innorality · 2 months ago

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helping tony stark blow off some steam ...

cw : french kissing, handjob, blowjob, reader is a swallower, kinda ooc/submissive/really lost in the pleasure tony, reader is a teaseee

a/n : suddenly got back into marvel even thought im team dc and turns out I reeeeaaally have a thing for billionaire playboys (looking at you, bruce wayne)

your marriage with tony stark was fun. of course it was, it's tony effing stark. but you can't deny that on some nights, when he's busy devoting his entire being to his work (which, you respect highly), you're bored.

you've been invited to a gala—nothing too crazy, the usual guests, fake smiles and business deals hidden under backhanded compliments. you still had some time before you had to get ready, and you decided to be a nice wife and make some dinner for your hardworking husband!

you didn't know what he'd want to eat though... bummer.

gliding down the stairs, you took a quickly glance around his workshop through the glass and saw him working his technological magic on some hologram touch screen.

entering the pin code instantly like muscle memory, you entered.

"there she is," he began and you smiled. "tony, sweetie," you walked up to him, setting a hand on his shoulder. "i got invited to a gala this evening—" "yeah?" he said under his breath. "—and I thought I'd make you dinner before going." he smirked without looking up, "how thoughtful."

your hand snaked under his jaw, making him look at you while pressing your fingers against his cheeks. "whatcha wanna eat, nerdy?" he chuckled at the nickname, grabbing your cheeks and pressing a bit harder to make you pout. "I'll eat anything you make me, miss."

you let go of him and he mirrored you, starting to turn back to get back to work but you grabbed his shoulder again, stopping him. "tony, you work day and night, don't you wanna rest a bit?" and just as you said that, a devilish idea popped in your mind like a lightbulb.

"baby, you know I don't have time to-" and you kissed him, uninterested in his excuses to keep overworking himself. your lips smashed together and it was deep, almost animalistic, teeth occasionally clashing. you nibbled on his lower lip and he opened up, letting you initiate a french kiss. your tongue snuck inside his mouth, clashing with his.

you sat down on his lap without breaking the kiss and his hands instantly found their way to your hips, grounding them against him. leaning in, you deepened the kiss, while simultaneously grinding down on him slightly, just enough to rile him up.

finally, he pulled away, looking more disheveled than ever and you could just eat him up. "fuck..." was all he could mutter out before instantly going for your neck and your granted him access, throwing your head back to give him more room. he started kissing it slightly before sucking it directly, marking you up at his. he nibbled slightly on the marks to emphasis them which pulled a low moan out of you.

"baby–baby, wait.." you tapped the back of his head slightly and he pulled away immediately, searching your eyes for any discomfort only to be met with pure, raw lust. you ran your hand down his clothed chest, and set your hand on his growing buldge, rubbing it.

"I wanna make this about you. you work too much, tony.." you cooed, drawing out the syllables of his name. he stayed silent for a moment, before completely melting under your touch. "gosh, I don't deserve you. I really don't." and you booped his nose, "of course you do."

you quickly pulled his cock out of his pants, stroking it slowly while keeping direct eye contact with the man and he's positive he's about to die.

your soft, warm hand glided up and down his length, the movement swift thanks to the amount of pre he was letting ooze out. "oh, yeah, that's the stuff." his hand snaked in your hair to ground himself, grabbing without pulling. his abs clenched and his thighs kept shifting beneath you, his breath hitching.

you kept an even pace, biting your lip as if to conceal the nasty words that were aching to fly out of your mouth, in vain. "look at you, tony.." you began and he's already weak. "you work, and work, and work..." you rubbed his tip with your thumb lightly and he threw his head back, a loud groan echoing out of him. "it's like you never relax, honey." you give his exposed neck a quick peck, "let me take care of you, tony."

"fuck–yeah, you do that." he huffed out, making you giggle slightly. just when it started to get really good, you unwrapped your hand and got off his lap, alerting him. he picked his head back up to look at you, confusion and frustration filling his eyes. but then, and he's thanking the heavens for it, you start to lower yourself, now looking up at him while on your knees before him.

you grabbed his base and he shivered, closing his eyes—he was bracing himself. you scooted a bit closer, kissing his tip and his hips twitched. another loud groan that came straight from his chest. "I really think I'm gonna marry you, sweetheart." he affirms and you laugh, his balls tightening at the sound. "tony, baby," you ran your tongue up his dick, "we're already married." and his cock twitched at that, before finally being welcomed by the warmth of your mouth.

you lower your head down his length, nose bumping against his pelvis. finally, he let's out a moan, and you perk up at the sound. "shit– shitshitshit-" when you start bobbing your head up and down, it's game over for the poor man.

you've done this hundreds of times to him, but everytime you do, it feels like the first time. your tongue swirled around him like a cobra fetching its prey. you hollowed your cheeks with expertise, constricting the wet walls of your throat around his head. that made him set his hand in your hair again.

he didn't control the pace, his head just followed the movement on your hand, his other one running through his own hair.

his moans started going crescendo, getting louder and louder than the last. closing your eyes, you went for his balls, massaging them softly which has him hissing. "shit, honey, if you keep doing that I might- ill– I'm about to—" and that's about the only warning you get before you feel hot ropes of cum jump down your throat. you pulled away slowly to feel his release on your tongue, aching for the taste of it.

you got off him with a pop! sound, sticking your tongue out as he grabbed your cheeks to inspect your mouth. "good girl, swallowed it all." he heaved out, making a cheeky smile appear on your face.

you got up, rubbing your lips to get the leftover saliva off of them. "I'm gonna go make dinner, okay?" and he didn't even have the strength to reply, his chest going up and down intensely—he was still getting over his orgasm.

he was definitely going to let you help him relax more often.

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levanterhaze · 3 months ago

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── GAMEBOY, BANGCHAN

♡ ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader dirty talk, masturbation, fingering, face sitting, use of nicknames, overstimulation, oral sex (f. receiving).

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[5.1k words ]♡― i keep thanking you and saying how grateful i am for those of you who follow gameboy and always wait patiently for the next chapter. you make it worthwhile. i wanted to apologize for the delay, there was a lot going on in my life and i needed some space to try and sort it out. but even so, almost a month later, you're still supporting me and that makes me so happy! PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS!!!! that said, have a good read.

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one] ♡ [part two] ♡ [part three] ♡ [part four] ♡ [part five]

They don't know how special you are They don't know what you've done to my heart They can say anything they want ' Cause they don't know about us

Then, like some cosmic reward for all your suffering, things started falling into place one after another, a perfect little domino effect.

First, Yeojin vanished after the party—poof, gone, like a bad subplot finally getting axed. One less headache for whatever this thing was between you and Bangchan. Changbin, bless him, looked downright relieved, muttering about how she was basically a walking red flag factory. You just nodded along, pretending to be appropriately neutral while secretly basking in the win.

Then, to top it all off, Seungmin landed the lead role in the play. You were so damn proud you could’ve cried—not that you would, obviously. You had a reputation to uphold. But still, he deserved it, and it felt good to see him shine.

But of course, life wasn’t going to let you just ride the high of that for too long. Because hiding whatever was going on with Bangchan? Yeah, that was getting harder by the day. It was like trying to keep a wildfire contained with a spray bottle.

It was late after class when he sent you a text—short, simple, with just enough implication to make your stomach do a nosedive. You knew exactly what it meant. And like the absolute fool you were, you didn’t even hesitate.

After finishing up your work for the day, you found yourself at his door, pulse already kicking up, knowing exactly what kind of chaos you were about to walk into.

You scoffed, smacking his hand away—weakly, because let’s be real, you didn’t really want him to stop. Bangchan just smirked, like he knew exactly how easy you were for him. Annoying.

“I swear, you’re so full of yourself,” you muttered, shifting on top of him, your thighs still shaky from earlier. His hands found your waist again, steadying you with that effortless, possessive grip that made your stomach flip.

“Not my fault you keep proving me right.” His voice was all slow and smug, and when he squeezed your hips, fingers digging in like he owned you, you had to bite back a noise that would’ve immediately ruined your whole tough-girl act.

Instead, you rolled your eyes. “One day, your ego is gonna collapse under its own weight.”

Bangchan hummed, unimpressed. “And yet, you’re still sitting here. On top of me. In my shirt. Looking real comfortable, by the way.”

Okay, he had a point. You weren’t about to admit that, though.

You huffed and leaned forward, placing your hands on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath your palms. “Yeah, well. I was comfortable. But now you’re being annoying, so I should probably go.”

His arms tightened around your waist before you could even think about moving. “Mmm. Nope. Stay.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You got a real bad habit of telling me what to do.”

His lips curved, lazy and dangerous. “And you got a real bad habit of listening.”

Your breath came out shaky, but you still gave him a look, one eyebrow quirked. “You really have no shame, do you?”

Bangchan smirked, the kind of smirk that should come with a warning label. “Not when it comes to you.” His fingers curled inside you again, and you swore you saw stars.

Your hand clenched the fabric of his shirt, trying to ground yourself. “You talk too much,” you muttered, voice betraying you as it wavered.

He chuckled, slow and deep, the sound sliding down your spine like melted honey. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Your body wanted to betray you—again. Your thighs trembled, heat curling low in your stomach, and you knew you were already done for.

Still, you weren’t about to go down without a fight. “You only say that to fuck me.”

Bangchan bit his lip, amusement flickering in his eyes before he rolled his hips up against yours, making you gasp. His fingers, still teasing, still ruining you, curled just right. “Fair enough.”

You barely had a second to process that before another wave of pleasure crashed into you. He had you—again—right where he wanted. And you hated how much you loved it.

His fingers moved like he knew you—like he had you mapped out, every weak spot memorized, every reaction anticipated before you could even process it yourself. It was infuriating. And unfair. And so, so good.

Your grip on his shoulders tightened as a choked sound left your lips. "I hate you."

Bangchan grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, his fingers never slowing. "Yeah?"

You nodded weakly, trying to not fall apart embarrassingly fast. "So much."

"Funny," he murmured, lips grazing your jaw now. "You feel like you love me right now."

Your breath hitched, an embarrassingly desperate whimper slipping out before you could stop it. Bastard. You would've cursed him out properly if your brain hadn't turned to static.

Bangchan's other hand slid up your back, holding you firmly against him as he kept working you over. "I could do this all night, baby," he muttered, voice low and smug. "But I don’t think you’d survive that, would you?"

You barely managed to shake your head, thighs shaking around his hand. Your nails dug into his skin, grasping at something—reality, control, maybe just him.

"Then give it to me," he coaxed, lips brushing yours, his voice thick with that tone. The one that sent you straight over the edge.

And you did. Hard.

“Like that...” he moaned, his voice all rough and wrecked as he watched you move in sync with him. “You're so good.”

Smug bastard.

You tried to open your eyes, tried to look at him, but that familiar, electric wave was already creeping up on you. The stretched fabric pressing against your skin, the way his fingers worked you like he had nothing better to do—it was all so damn much, teetering right on the edge of insanity.

“You’re an asshole...” you managed to bite out, sinking your teeth into your lip to keep the moan threatening to spill free.

Bangchan chuckled, low and pleased, and you felt it—right under your hands, vibrating through his chest like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Because of course he did.

And then—oh, fuck—his movements turned ruthless, all precision and pressure, sending you spiraling so fast your moans broke right out of you. Your head tipped back, your nails dug into his skin, and your whole body rocked with the force of it.

Somewhere through the haze, his voice curled around you, thick with need. “I want you to do something for me... Hm?”

His words barely registered past the white noise of your brain, but what did register? The way he sounded completely wrecked, the way his own pleasure was tangible in the air. And then there was the very, very obvious bulge tenting the thin sheet between you two, because of course he hadn’t even tried to hide it.

It was obvious. He wanted you to know.

Know what you did to him.

Know you were the one responsible.

You would’ve done anything he asked at that moment. You were right there when—out of nowhere—he stopped, completely shutting you down. The crash was brutal, like free-falling from the sky straight onto solid concrete.

Your eyes fluttered open, dazed, like you were trying to remember how breathing worked.

“Come here,” Bangchan said, dead serious.

You blinked, still catching up. “What…?”

He let out a sharp breath, clearly losing patience. “Fuck, I want you to sit here. I wanna taste you.”

And that’s when it clicked. He wanted you there. On his face.

Your hands slipped under the hem of his ridiculously loose shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin. Your face felt hot at his words. It’s not like you were some shy little girl scared of sex—far from it—but damn, Bangchan was direct. No hesitation, no second-guessing. And no one had ever treated you like this before, like your pleasure was the priority. It was all so new. And kind of insane.

“Uh—are you sure?” you needed to check that he wasn’t just caught up in some post-sex delirium. Because let’s be real—most guys just wanted a blowjob. Not this.

His jaw tightened, his hands twitching as they hovered over your body, already impatient. “Don’t make me ask you again.” his voice was raw, almost desperate, as he nudged you forward.

A shiver ran down your spine, excitement buzzing under your skin. Biting your lip, you moved in, knees sinking into the mattress as close to his lips as possible. His hands found your ass, guiding you effortlessly while you adjusted yourself.

“I think—” you started, but the words died in your throat the second his tongue hit. No warning, no teasing—just straight to it.

And holy fuck.

Your entire body lit up, a storm spreading from the inside out, consuming you whole.

His deep brown eyes locked onto yours, dark and hungry, and—Jesus—it was too much. You could barely keep your eyes open, but the sight of him, lips buried between your legs, savoring every inch of you like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted?

Absolute. Heaven.

Bangchan worked his tongue like he had all the time in the world, licking, sucking, tasting every inch of you like he was starving. And the way he held your hips—tight, unyielding—made it clear you weren’t going anywhere. Every time you tried to pull back, leaning on the wall in some desperate attempt to escape the onslaught, he just forced you down, making you take it.

“I—I can’t!” you practically sobbed, hips rolling against his mouth, chasing relief and running from it at the same time.

His response, a low, satisfied hum that vibrated right against you. And then—with wicked precision—he pressed a hand against your clit, slow but relentless, while his tongue slipped inside, teasing, fucking you in a way that had your brain completely short-circuiting.

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Your body dissolved, reduced to nothing but sweat, shivers, and the kind of pleasure that made your vision blur. Your moans were loud, raw, helpless—like you had no control over them anymore.

His lips never stopped moving, never stopped devouring, as you rocked against his mouth, riding his tongue with a rhythm that neither of you wanted to break. And then—just when you thought you had a grip on reality—his fingers found that spot, rubbing slow, intentional circles that sent you crashing over the edge.

You shattered. Completely.

A scream tore from your throat as the most intense orgasm of your life slammed into you like a damn avalanche, ripping everything in its path. For a few seconds, there was nothing—no sound, no thought—just feeling. A feral wave that dragged you under, leaving you breathless.

Bangchan held you through all of it, keeping you exactly where he wanted. Not letting you escape. Not letting you run from the pleasure he was so determined to give.

And fuck, you came hard, leaving him groaning against you, swallowing every drop like he lived for it.

With a smug, satisfied grin, Bangchan flipped the script—literally—rolling you onto the bed and hovering over you. His fingers brushed your hair out of your face, tracing the curve of your smile like he was memorizing it.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, still catching your breath, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

He chuckled, then dipped down, nipping at your breast before trailing his way up, capturing your mouth in a slow, filthy kiss. His tongue teased yours, making sure you tasted yourself, and god, it was so messy, so hot, you almost forgot how to think.

Your hands cradled his face, holding him there, as if letting go would snap you out of whatever daze this was. And then, out of nowhere, a thought barged into your mind, uninvited but very much there:

This—whatever this was—couldn’t just end.

Because beyond the mind-blowing sex, Bangchan was actually good to you. In a way that felt… different.

“Can I ask you something?” he blurted, his tone suspiciously casual.

You quirked a brow.

“Depends.” pulling the sheet up to your chest, you met his gaze, unshaken.

“Would you stay the night?”

“What?”

“I know it’s risky and you don’t want anyone finding out,” he said, already playing defense, “but I was thinking—order some food, put on a movie… I’ll behave. Promise.”

Your lips quirked as you tried to hold back a laugh. “Liar. Fine, I’ll stay.”

He studied you for a second, like he was waiting for the catch. “...you serious?”

“Mm-hm.” you reached up, grabbing his chin with playful authority before pulling him in for another kiss. “I’ll stay.”

The second the words left your lips, he lit up like a kid who just got handed his favorite candy. And as he got up, grinning like an idiot, something inside you clicked.

Maybe—just maybe—keeping things a secret wasn’t as important as you thought.

Bangchan was suspiciously decent. Like, shockingly so.

He helped clean up the mess you two had made of his sheets, let you use his shower, and even tossed you one of his shirts—which you absolutely did not sniff like some lovesick fool (except maybe a little). And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he got you fried chicken and fries for dinner while he debated which movie to put on.

Honestly? If this was his way of keeping you coming back, it was working.

You settled into bed, feeling weirdly at home in a situation that probably shouldn’t have felt this normal. Meanwhile, Bangchan, completely unbothered, sat next to you in just his sweatpants, bare torso on full display. If he noticed you stealing quick glances, he didn’t call you out on it.

Which was good. Because your brain was already wandering to places it probably shouldn’t.

“Wanna ask you something.” he asked, cracking open a beer.

You nodded, popping a fry into your mouth. “Go for it.”

He watched you for a second, then, out of nowhere— “What’s the deal with Mingyu?”

You choked. Like, full-on, almost died on a potato kind of choked.

Coughing, you took a deep breath and gave him a side-eye. “Damn. No warning?”

Bangchan just took a sip of his beer, completely unfazed. “Because he had his hands on you at the party,” he said casually. “And Changbin said he saw you two at a bar the other night.”

Damn Changbin and his big mouth.

You turned your head just enough to meet Bangchan’s gaze. It was time to be straight with him. No dancing around it.

“I wish I had a solid answer for you, but I don’t,” you admitted, inhaling sharply. You weren’t used to being vulnerable with him. It felt weird. “We went out a few times.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt the shift in Bangchan’s energy.

“He likes you,” he stated, no hesitation.

You blinked. “No, he doesn’t. Why would you think that?”

Bangchan searched your face, trying to put his thoughts into words without completely exposing himself. Because I like you and he’s trying to take what’s mine—that’s what he wanted to say. But things between you two were in a good place, and he wasn’t about to be the idiot who ruined that.

Instead, he shrugged. “I don’t know. The way he was looking at you at the party, plus everything else? It just seemed that way.” he paused before asking, “Do you like him?”

You snorted. “No. I don’t. We... Well, we kissed, but that was it.”

Bangchan clenched his jaw, staying painfully still. Oh, for fuck’s sake. He should’ve expected that, but it still made his blood pressure spike. The jealousy? Immediate. And irrational as hell. In his mind, no one should be touching you, especially not Mingyu.

“Are you mad?” you asked, watching his reaction.

He exhaled through his nose, forcing his expression into something neutral. “No, I’m not mad.” a beat. “I just can’t stand the guy. That’s all.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Mhm.”

There was definitely something more there. You’d already clocked the tension between them at the cafeteria, and now this? It wasn’t just about you.

“Did you two have a fight or something?”

“We used to be friends. Way back.” Bangchan leaned back against the headboard, exhaling like the memory physically weighed on him. “Same university, studied together, all that. Then he joined the basketball team. I joined a semester later. Everything was fine... until I got made captain.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Lemme guess—he didn’t take that well?”

Bangchan let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, he lost it. Changbin kept saying he was up to something, but I refused to believe it. I mean, we’d been tight since we were teenagers. What harm could he possibly do to me, right?”

You stayed quiet, sensing he wasn’t done. There was a sharpness to his voice that wasn’t usually there.

“Then he went and lied to my girlfriend,” Bangchan continued, voice dropping slightly. “Told her I was cheating on her with some other girl. And she believed him—because, why wouldn’t she? He was my friend.” His jaw clenched. “And if that wasn’t enough, a week later, he hooked up with the same girl.”

You blinked. “No way.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bangchan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Then he quit basketball, and that was that. Haven’t spoken since.”

You whistled, leaning back. “Damn. That’s some high-level betrayal shit.”

He chuckled, but it was flat. “Yeah, well. Some things are for the best, right?”

You nodded, sitting up straighter. “Right.”

Bangchan glanced at you, something softer in his gaze now. “Listen, I don’t care about what you’ve done before. I really don’t.” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I do hate that it was him, not gonna lie. But... I like this. Now.”

You studied him for a second, then smirked. “Yeah, me too. Even if you are a little dramatic.”

“Dramatic?”

“Captain of the basketball team and a tragic backstory? That's the main character's energy, dude.”

Bangchan groaned, throwing a pillow at you, and just like that, the tension broke.

Something warm settled in your lap—not just his body heat, but the weight of his words, pressing into you like they meant more than he was outright saying. Your heart pounded against your ribs, completely out of rhythm.

Bangchan had already made it clear that he wanted you, that this pull between you wasn’t one-sided. But lately, something has shifted. Like someone had flipped a switch, and suddenly everything was in high definition—colors sharper, touches lingering longer, words sinking deeper.

And yet, trying to read between the lines felt impossible. He wasn’t making it weird. If anything, it was... nice. Easy.

He leaned in, closing the space between you, his gaze dropping to your lips like he was about to seal whatever this was with a kiss—

And you shoved a piece of fried chicken into his mouth.

“Let’s watch the movie.”

Bangchan froze for half a second before bursting into laughter, eyes crinkling at the edges. He chewed, shook his head like he should’ve seen that coming, and then—without missing a beat—wrapped an arm around you, pulling you flush against his chest. Like you belonged there. Like you always had.

Another morning of rehearsal, another round of you showing up late because Bangchan had priorities. Specifically, you. And his mouth. On various parts of your body. Just for the record.

The stage was buzzing, students scattered around with scripts in hand, energy high as everyone prepped for rehearsal. You jogged toward Hyunjin, who was already shooting daggers at Bangchan. Meanwhile, the man in question was slouched in a chair, fingers flying over his laptop, pretending he wasn’t the reason you were running late.

Hyunjin pulled you aside the second you reached him.

“What’s with the face?” he asked, squinting at you like you had something incriminating written on your forehead.

You blinked. “What face?”

“Oh, don’t even try it. You look like you just walked out of a rom-com montage. Like, full-on birds singing, twirling-in-a-field levels of happy.”

You snorted, swatting his arm. “You’re being dramatic.”

“And you’re glowing.” Hyunjin grinned knowingly. “Not that I’m judging. It’s actually nice to see. Ever since you and Bangchan… you know.” He waved a vague hand. “You just seem happier. Like, actually happy.”

Your eyes flickered over to the soundboard, where Bangchan was deep in concentration, brows furrowed as he typed something.

Could Hyunjin be right? Was this—whatever this was—more than just fun? Was the weird ache in your chest not confusion, but something else entirely?

Something dangerous. Something real.

The teacher clapped their hands, calling everyone to attention. “Alright, we’re starting with the first scene!”

Seungmin took center stage—the boy with a voice so good it could probably charm a snake, if not an entire room full of theater kids. His character, a small-town dreamer, rejected by his narrow-minded community for daring to want more. Enter Seulgi, your character—his sharp, ambitious, and slightly morally flexible guide to the big city. She introduces him to all the glitz, glam, and occasional questionable life choices that come with chasing dreams. Somewhere between the bright lights and late nights, they fall into each other’s arms, two lost souls trying to find themselves.

Seungmin, ever the pro, stepped into the scene like he was born for it. When the script called for him to be mocked and booed by the townspeople, he stood tall, his face a perfect mix of defiance and heartbreak. And then—his solo.

His voice hit the air like honey dripping off a spoon, warm and slow, yet effortlessly smooth. Even the most cynical among you had to admit it was kind of magical. You blinked rapidly, not about to let musical theater be the thing that made you cry today.

Rehearsal wrapped up, and the usual post-practice hunger kicked in. You, Hyunjin, and Seungmin made a beeline for the cafeteria. It wasn’t long before the whole crew assembled—Eunji and Sohee joining once their classes were done, Minho curled up with his girlfriend like a human-sized housecat.

Then came Jisung, followed by Changbin, Felix… and Bangchan.

And just like that, your heart did that thing again. The annoying, fluttery, completely out-of-your-control thing.

You were totally minding your own business, pretending to scroll through your phone, when you caught Changbin dropping the bomb.

“This weekend, I convinced my parents to let us use the beach house. So, everyone’s invited.”

Cue instant chaos. Eunji and Sohee screamed like they had just won the lottery. Meanwhile, you?

Full. Blown. Panic.

A whole weekend next to Bangchan? With all your friends around? No touching, no sneaking off, no getting lost in him the way you had been lately? That was actual torture. How were you supposed to act normal?

“Yeah, I think I’ll sit this one out,” you said, aiming for casual but probably missing.

The entire table immediately turned on you.

Sohee gasped like you had personally offended her entire bloodline. “Are you insane? It’s the beach. The ocean. The sand between your toes. Vitamin D!”

Felix draped himself over your shoulder dramatically. “And who else is gonna be my diving buddy?” His eyes twinkled with fake betrayal. You just laughed, shaking your head.

Then Bangchan, because of course it had to be him, chimed in. “What, don’t tell me you’re allergic to fun too?” His smirk was pure provocation.

You shot him a look. “Allergic to idiots? Maybe.”

Eunji groaned, rolling her eyes. “Took you two long enough…”

You fought the grin tugging at your lips, and you caught Bangchan doing the same. No one else at that table had a clue what was really going on, but you both knew exactly what this little game was.

“I dare you to be less grumpy and just go,” Bangchan said, arms crossed like he’d already won.

Sohee clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Please?” she pleaded, giving you the full puppy-eyes treatment.

You sighed, dragging it out for effect before finally giving in. “Fine, fine. But only because I don’t owe this insufferable bastard anything.”

You shot Bangchan with another playful glare, but he just shrugged, smug as ever—completely failing to hide how pleased he actually was.

Everything was packed, the energy was high, and you could practically taste the salty ocean air even though you weren’t even there yet.

Sohee was perched in Minho’s car, swiping on lipstick in the rearview mirror while Eunji and Jisung got comfortable in the back.

“Wait, you’re riding with Changbin?” Minho asked, craning his neck out the window.

Changbin was posted up in his own car, already surrounded by Felix, Hyunjin, and Seungmin. Logically, there were still two more seats to fill before all the cars were set. And just like that—like the universe was playing some cruel joke—Bangchan strolled up with a backpack slung over one shoulder and his car keys twirling around his finger.

“You can ride with me if you want,” he offered, completely casual. “Plenty of space.”

A lump formed in your throat. Everyone here knew about the so-called rivalry between you two. But lately, that line had started to blur—truce or not, the pull was getting harder to ignore.

Inside the car, Sohee shot you a suspicious little smirk, clearly clocking the shift in energy. You straightened up, forced your best nonchalant expression, and turned to Bangchan with an easy shrug.

“Works for me.”

Without waiting for anyone else’s reaction, you strutted over to his car, refusing to acknowledge the silent stares—or the way Changbin’s smug grin practically screamed mission accomplished.

Bangchan trailed behind at his own pace, passing Changbin’s car just in time for his friend to flash him a knowing look. He ignored it, popping open the trunk.

“Lemme take that,” he said, grabbing your bag before you could protest.

You rolled your eyes, but let him. Because, well… maybe he was annoying, but at least he had manners.

That car held some insane memories—the last party, the way you two finally stopped pretending, how everything that had been simmering beneath the surface finally exploded. And now? Now, things were different. You could feel it in your gut.

Bangchan clicked his seatbelt into place, his eyes flicking to you as you did the same. That little smirk of yours didn’t go unnoticed.

"Everything good?" His voice was low, like the others might somehow hear from outside.

"Yeah." You smiled. "And you?"

He exhaled, fingers flexing on the wheel, lips curving into something small but telling. "You have no idea."

The drive to the beach house was easy, comfortable. Bangchan let you take over the playlist, and the car turned into your personal stage. You belted out your favorites, even the ones he dramatically groaned about just to mess with you. He still sang along, though.

The city faded behind you, replaced by open roads and a sky that stretched endlessly. And then, there it was—the ocean, gleaming under the sun, like it had been waiting for you all along.

The weekend had potential. Sure, sneaking around with Bangchan would be a challenge—especially with nosy friends and zero privacy—but hey, you liked a little risk. And after everything that had gone down between you two, the idea of keeping it all under wraps was starting to feel… unnecessary. Too normal, even.

The beach house was straight out of a Pinterest board—huge, sun-soaked, and framed by a postcard-perfect yard that led straight to the ocean. Flowers lined the walkway, the grass was freshly cut, and you were pretty sure Changbin’s family was secretly loaded.

“Damn, Binnie. Didn’t know you were out here living like a rom-com protagonist,” you teased as you stepped out of the car, stretching after the ride.

Changbin just grinned. “Perks of being the favorite son.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag. “Right, I’ll get my stuff upstairs.”

Inside, the guys were unloading groceries while Eunji and Sohee had already claimed the balcony for an impromptu photo shoot. You made your way up the wooden stairs, taking in the absurd amount of space.

When you peeked into one of the rooms, your eyebrows shot up. “Okay, damn.” The place was huge. You knew Changbin had money, but this was a statement. The kind of house that could fit a whole cast of reality TV contestants without feeling cramped.

Still, you had priorities. First, drop off your bag. Second, claim a decent bathroom before the others got to it. Third—well, third was figuring out how to not get caught sneaking around with Bangchan all weekend.

You barely made it two steps out of your room before strong hands wrapped around your waist, yanking you into a dark room. A startled gasp slipped out—one that quickly turned into something else when familiar lips brushed against your neck.

“Have you lost your mind?” You smacked Bangchan’s chest, though the effect was ruined by the way your breath hitched. He reached behind you, flicking the light on just enough to reveal his face—desperate, hungry, completely unapologetic.

“I know, I know,” he groaned, voice husky as he buried his face back into your neck, lips tracing the sensitive skin. “But hours. Hours in a car with you, pretending I don’t want to drag you into the backseat? I’m dying here.”

You laughed at his theatrics, but his hands were already roaming, gripping, claiming. His eyes were dark, his lips parted, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip like he was about to devour you.

“Are you gonna make it?” you teased, tilting your head, enjoying the way he tensed under your touch.

“I don’t know…” His fingers dug into your waist, his voice thick with need. “I think I’m too weak.” His gaze dipped to your lips. “And you’re so irresistible.”

“Then shut up and do something about it,” you challenged.

A spark flashed in his eyes—game on.

The second his lips crashed into yours, it was wildfire. His hands tangled in your hair, gripping tight like he was afraid you’d disappear. You fisted his black shirt, yanking him closer, pressing against him like you needed to steal his warmth, his breath, him. The scent of him—musky, intoxicating, familiar—wrapped around you as he kissed you like a man starved.

And you weren’t planning on letting him go anytime soon.

Bangchan was just about to hook your leg around his waist—his hands hot, his breath ragged—when the unmistakable sound of a car engine shutting off made you both freeze.

“Someone's here,” you whispered against his lips.

He groaned, forehead dropping against yours, his grip on your waist tightening like he was debating whether whoever just arrived really needed to exist right now. But you were already slipping from his grasp, smoothing your hair and straightening your clothes like you hadn’t just been seconds away from making bad decisions.

Bangchan cursed under his breath, raking a hand through his hair before following you down the stairs.

At the bottom, Changbin stood with his arms crossed, wearing an expression like someone had just kicked his dog.

You blinked. “Uh, everything okay?”

Changbin’s scowl deepened as he jerked his head toward the door. “Tell your friend she’s completely clueless.” Then, without another word, he stormed off.

You exchanged a glance with Bangchan before looking to Hyunjin for answers, but he just stood there looking like he’d seen a ghost.

And then you saw why.

Standing in the doorway, grinning like she’d just pulled off the best prank in the world, was Eunji.

And next to her, with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a hesitant, too-wide smile?

Mingyu.

“Surprise!” Eunji announced, her voice bright and excited.

The silence that followed? Absolutely deafening.

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