#a few extra scenes would be enough for me

[zephyrins]

romanceable Raphael route

disclaimer: it's just my thoughts on what we can add to the current plot without ruining or completely rewriting it. I know that fanfics exist for this purpose but let me and Raphael enjoyers have some fun, I'm not asking the developers to actually add this so calm down haters

the first act is perfect. Raphael's introduction is 10\10 and I don't want to change a thing. BUT if you want to romance him you should play along with his little performance, humor him, and don't be rude!!

in the second act, he can appear after the defeat of Ketheric and congratulate us because we deserve to be praised by our favorite devil! if we roll persuasion (or something else idk) successfully he can tell us more about Orin and Gortash or the brain

the tastiest part starts in the third act, we have a lot of room for fantasy. but there are criteria we must meet:

sign his contract, obviously

no additional tadpoles in our brain

no to the Emperor

do not romance anyone (he would be disappointed, how can you like someone else when he is around?)

you can gift Raphael the Annals of Karsus and if his approval is high enough you can ask for something in exchange (maybe help with Karlach's heart or Wyll's dad?) ((but Gale will leave your company))

if you are a bard you can sing him a song (just because you can)

he would be very pleased if you would destroy Gortash's plans and return his stolen items. you will hear a monologue about how foolish the ambitions of mortals are and how Enver was doomed from the very beginning. maybe Raphael even give you something as your prize

you can ask him how to get rid of Mizora, but if his approval is very high he'll appear in your camp anyway and get rid of her by himself (because he's the only devil who can be around his mouse!!)

you can visit the House of Hope but DO NOT touch anything or you can say bye-bye to your romance. If you do everything correctly and have exceptional approval, you'll have a unique dialogue with Haarlep: they'll recognize you as their master's new favorite pet Raphael can't shut up about, but Haarlep is not allowed to have fun with you without Raphael

Korilla will give you a permanent pass to the House from Raphael and tell you he will be waiting for you later (I think here your imagination can go wild about what can happen on that rendezvous)

the ending

our promised dinner!! he will offer you to become his warlock but you can refuse: Raphael won't be mad, he will only laugh giving you more time to play with your freedom

well, thank you for visiting my delusional ted talk, see you later

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32

You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 

“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 

You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 

The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?

Really?

He’s calling bull.

“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”

“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?

“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”

“We had a driver—“

“Fuckin’ course—“

“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”

“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”

You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”

He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.

“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.

“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”

“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”

You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.

“What’s this?” 

Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.

“An IC card,” he simply answers.

It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.

“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”

“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”

“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”

“Forget it.”

“Really, Bak—“

“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.

You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—

“What do I do now?”

You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.

“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.

“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”

You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”

Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.

Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.

“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.

He scoffs.

“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”

“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”

Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 

An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.

Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.

The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.

“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.

“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”

Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 

A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”

Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

“Jealous?”

“Hah? Why would I be—”

“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.

“Quiet, remember?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.

He’ll leave it to you to confess.

Then again, you already knew.

Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[dekariosclan]

Allow me to rave for just a minute about Gale’s kiss scene in the epilogue.

First, there’s Gale’s gentle teasing of Tav, which we can all universally agree is magnificent, outstanding, exceptional, top-notch.

Then there’s The Boop™️. Something so perfect you could show it to an alien life form with absolutely zero understanding of human emotions or love, and it would still say, '…that’s the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life.’

But the part that I truly love the most (and that I don’t see mentioned often) is this right here:

I love that after Gale’s tease, Tav leans in for what they think will be a quick little kiss, but the minute their lips touch Gale’s, he’s so completely love-drunk he’s pulling them in for a makeout session.

Words aren’t necessary. Gale doesn’t feel like he has to ask or flatter or charm Tav first; he knows he can just reach out and his love will be reciprocated.

This is the result of Gale finally having a partner that lets his needs and his wants and his desires be met. He’s confident and secure enough in Tav’s love to know that he can just kiss them with a defenseless, honest passion, and he’ll get the same in return, because they love him for him.

Plus, the little sway/dance he does while kissing Tav!? He’s bursting with so much happiness he can’t contain himself.

I just. Love it. SO much.

And I am 100% sure this happens ALL THE TIME.

Professor Dekarios is late for his morning class again? He hasn’t even left his home yet, he’s still kissing his spouse goodbye.

Gale’s spending an evening with his friends at the Yawning Portal and suddenly they’re wondering where he went? He spotted Tav doing some shopping nearby and left to give his love a “quick peck on the cheek.” It’s been 40 minutes.

Elminster himself stops by to meet Gale to go to lunch? He finds Tara waiting for him, tail swishing in annoyance as she says, “Please do sit down and get comfortable. Gale will be awhile.”

Elminster just laughs. Is Gale caught up working on a spell? Got his nose in a book? He’s used to waiting on the boy, he’ll probably just be a few minutes more.

Tara: “He’s saying goodbye to Tav.”

Elminster: Sighs, takes off his hat, sits down.

And one final observation that sets my heart ablaze: remember when Gale told Tav at the Netherbrain battle, “I hope that wasn’t our last kiss. I’d take a thousand more if I could.” Just look at Gale pulling Tav in for those extra kisses; he’s already started counting. ❤️

[neowinestainedress]

HITS DIFFERENT | L.DH

TITLE: hits different

PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader | mc’s best friend johnny, haechan’s roommate mark (+ kinda emotional support boy when mc acts like a loser)

GENRE: non-idol au, strangers to friends with benefits to lovers, getting together, smut, angst, fluff | requested | bonus part

SUMMARY: nobody ever got under your skin, not until Haechan came in your life and changed everything. 

WARNINGS: smut, protected and unprotected sex (condom first and then mc is on the pill), multiple sex scenes, oral sex, fingering, car sex, riding, fingers sucking, face sitting, rimming, anal, mirror sex, a bit of exhibitionism (as a fantasy), praise, teasing (as in degradation but it’s not hard stuff), handjob, morning sex, kitchen sex, toys (vibrator), overstimulation, (no bdsm but) switchy dynamics, sa doesn’t happen but there are a few references to pushy behaviours, mentions of a past car accident and death of a barely mentioned character | I hope I didn’t forget anything but if I did, let me know! | kinda implied that both haechan and the reader are bi because in this house we only support mxf bi4bi couples (joking… unless) do whatever you want with this information.

WC: 44.804k

TAGLIST: @adorejaehyn​ @matchahyuck​ @sundhaelatte @jjhmk​ @ourbeautifulaffair​ @what-the-jams​ @oleoleniall​ @kundann @bbagu​ @ismileeprnc-responder​ @produmads​ @zkdlllin​ @yesohhsehun​ @aliceinwhateverland​ @strangevante​ @cas104 @hyuckdreams​

A/N: finally writing hyuck as a loser male wife (kinda) my life is complete!!! It’s been months and I’m back with a request, I know it took long to write it but I hope whoever requested will like this. I’m still not sure about the present tense but idk I’m trying out new things. I would really appreciate if you could support my work in any way, feedback makes me happy and motivates me to keep writing. If you can, reblog so it can reach more people or come and chat in the ask box to let me know your opinion! Love you, enjoy!

It was Johnny’s fault. It’s always his fault when things don’t go as planned. 

It’s his fault if right now you are jumping around Haechan’s bedroom trying to look for your clothes while the clock is running fast, and you are running late. 

It was Johnny’s fault for setting you up with Haechan out of all his friends. 

“Can you please help instead of just staring while I slowly transcend into madness?”

Haechan rolls his eyes, still laying in bed, crumpled-up sheets all over his body. “Damn, all of this for a pair of panties?”

“For all my clothes. What the hell did we do last night?” You groan, throwing your head back while another exhausted sigh slips from your lips. 

“Don’t know,” he shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face while a small smirk curls his lips, “fucked you so hard you forgot?”

“Shut up!”

Haechan sighs another time, eyes rolling in the back of his skull before he stands up and actually starts helping you find your things. You hear him giggle at your muttered curses under your breath but at least he’s helping, studying the room to put your outfit back together. 

But when you finally are done, he doesn’t shut up, he’s not half asleep like he usually is when you sneak out of his place on your tiptoes like a thief. 

“You know, I don’t even get it,” he says, crossing his arms, eyes fixated on you even if you can only see him with your peripherical view, too occupied putting your panties back on. 

“What?”

“Why you’re always in a rush. I think this is the first time I wake up with you. I don’t bite, you know,” you can hear the sarcasm in his voice and this early in the morning, with those implications, you find it slightly irritating. 

You scoff, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“It happened once,” he exhales loudly, a hint of annoyance in his voice, “they looked extra soft.” That’s always his justification when you bring up the one time he bit you during sex, his eyes falling on your chest before you swiftly cover it with your arm. 

“Okay, enough. You are a sleepy head and I have things to do, that’s why.”

Yeah, that’s why. It’s got nothing to do with the fact you created a list of rules to follow when you two started this and you would’ve rather got hit by lighting than broken one of those. He doesn’t know it, though. So, your different personalities and lifestyles make up a good excuse. 

“Whatever,” he replies, believing in you, slightly disappointed over the fact you implied he’s lazy and sleeps too much. “We could eat break—”

“No!” You scream. “Fuck,” you shout again when in the rush of reacting to his absurd proposal you almost zip your panties — or better the skin of your mound — in the zip of your jeans. “I just told you I’m late.”

Haechan doesn’t get you. He thinks he never will. And you can see it in his eyes and the way he’s looking at you. It makes no sense for you to sweat while you’re dressing up again. He also thinks he knows so little of you and has no faint idea of what you could be late for. But he doesn’t ask. He might not have rules written, but somehow that feels like crossing some of those lines that are in between you like invisible strings. 

“My purse, my purse, where the hell is my purse?”

He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes at your panicked eyes that are looking around the room, before he responds nonchalantly, “Couch, probably. You always throw it there.”

You quirk a brow. Always? Are you picking up habits? You scroll that out of your mind and run a hand through your hair — the flat press that now looks like a mess — before walking past him. It’s so irritating to have him there while you have to escape. 

“Why are you following me?” You ask exhausted, turning around to meet him standing right behind you; you’re face to face, and considering he spent half of the night inside you, you shouldn’t find it so weird to have him so close, but it is, so you take a step back. 

“’Cause this is my house?”

You huff, “yeah, of course.” Your purse is on the couch where you always throw it, and you’re quick to grab it before heading to the door. 

“Are you sure you don’t —”

“No, gotta go. Bye. See ya,” you stop him, waving a last goodbye with a barely visible movement of the hand. 

The door closes behind you and you finally start breathing normally again.

This is all Johnny’s fault.

It was Johnny’s fault. 

If only he didn’t drag you out that night with the lame excuse that you needed to unwind and meet new people. 

It wasn’t totally wrong. Let’s say you aren’t the best at making decisions, especially romantically, and you were still caught up with your ex... or whatever he was. You two weren’t together anymore, technically. Practically? Well…

But you didn’t want to start a new thing, your ex was traumatic, no matter how good the sex was (it wasn’t even that good, currently he’s the only one you can get sex from without having to hold boring conversations with a drink in hand and spend the ride back to their place hoping you didn’t end up in the arms of a killer) he was an asshole.

“Can you please don’t run, I can’t keep up with you,” you scream, trying to reach your best friend, Johnny, hurrying in your steps, praying you won’t break your ankles. 

“You still insist to wear those heels when you can’t walk in them,” he jokes, laughing at you, watching you huff and bend over to catch your breath. 

“It’s not them, it’s you for being so tall, why do you take such big steps?” 

Johnny only rolls his eyes before pointing at the bar door with his head, “Should we head in? Need me to carry you or your small legs can drag you inside?” 

You frown, glaring at him, “I hate you.” 

Johnny smiles, handing out his arm so you can intertwine it with yours and then you step in. 

The inside of the bar is cosy, the brown of the wood and the shelves make it warmer, and the music playing in the background is a nice company sound that won’t overshadow the talks. You don’t have time to look around much more, Johnny’s hand swiftly wraps around your wrist, and then he starts dragging you somewhere, and you can only activate your brain again to focus on him if you don’t want to fall in the middle of the place like a bag of potato. 

“Dude, you finally made it, you’re late.” A boy you don’t know exclaims from the table and your eyes follow the line of five heads sitting next to him. 

“Sorry, it was her fault,” Johnny says. Lies, cause you were on time, he picked you up late, making you wait ten minutes under your complex’s porch. 

You are about to complain but suddenly all the eyes are on you, and you are too conscious about it to do anything else other than stare back at them with an awkward shy smile and a small wave of your hand. 

“He picked me up late,” you still manage to babble out cause there’s no way that will be the first impression of you. You surely have some flaws — many flaws, Johnny would say — but being late it’s not one of them. 

“Yeah, we know,” another one replies, glaring at your friend. 

“Haechan,” Johnny replies with a scowl to him, and you try to note to yourself that’s his name. “Move, we need to sit, too.” 

You wouldn’t have minded sitting at the far end of the bench, not even if you were at risk of falling down every two seconds. It would’ve been better than being squeezed between Johnny and Haechan. But even if the position is not the best, once again because Johnny takes too much space, after more than an hour you got along with all of his friends, you learned that most of them were dating, or busy with something, so you couldn’t quite get why Johnny brought you there. The fear that it was his way to confess to you and screw up twenty years of friendship got your skin crawling for a second, but when you were left alone with the black-haired man to your right, it all made sense. 

“So, how do you know Johnny?” You ask, turning around to look at him while a small smile curls your lips. 

Haechan smiles, or smirks, it’s almost a chuckle, you can’t quite describe it. “At the gym.” 

“At the gym?” 

He rolls his eyes, swiftly licking his lips, and lifting his hands up in defence, “I tried, okay? It’s just not for me.” 

“Oh, no, sorry if it came off rudely,” you apologise. “You didn’t seem interested when they talked about it before so…” 

“Cause I’m not,” he laughs wholeheartedly, and his face softens, making you take a breath of relief, well, good, you didn’t fuck it up for once. “We got close soon and then we started knowing each other out of that hell.”

You laugh at the way he talks about the gym, not that you disagreed, Johnny tried more than once to drag you there but you’re loyal to your Saturday and Sunday morning runs outside or on your treadmill. 

His eyes fall on yours again, and he briefly studies your features before speaking again, “What about you?” 

“Oh, he was actually my brother’s best friend, then they fought, and we became inseparable. My brother is still mad but that’s not my fault.” 

Haechan laughs even though a frown hardens his features for a second, something about your tone seemed off for a split moment, but he shrugs it off and tries to joke about it, “Usually that ends with dating.” 

Your eyes widen and your head moves from side to side. “Oh, hell no.” 

“Johnny’s a dream for a lot of people.” 

“Yeah, we’re fine as friends,” you confirm again, the mere idea of seeing Johnny as something else making your stomach convulse. You are sure he’s a perfect boyfriend, husband even, to somebody else.  

“Oh, already taken?” 

“No, we’re friends, he’s my soulmate in another way. And I don’t do love.” 

Haechan stares at you, his eyes moving on your face, the small nervous twitching of the corner of your lips, and the frenetic playing of your fingers with the crumbs on the table. “No?” 

“It’s just not for me. Not in a…” you stop, trying to find the words. You don’t have a reason, you just never fell deeply for someone. You surely care for people, and you love your friends, but your relationships never left a deep mark on you. You’re fine with yourself. “I’m good on my own.” 

“Bad experiences?” He tries to guess, thinking he’s going to hit the target. 

You shake your head, sipping on the glass of alcohol and emptying it. “No, I’ve always been like this. I think nobody made a mess of me to leave me hooked on them.” 

He chuckles, and something crosses his face but you don’t catch it, it looks like the smirk of before with a glint in his eyes, but it’s too quick, and you don’t know him at all to read his micro-expressions that well. 

“You?” You ask, feeling a push of curiosity that makes you want to learn more about him. His lips move, but you have no time to carry on the conversation since the others arrived. 

Back then you didn’t know where that night would’ve led you. You had no idea that the person that would’ve made a mess of you was right there by your side. But of one thing you can be sure, it was Johnny’s fault. 

You’re sure that night nothing clicked between you and Haechan; whatever Johnny had in mind, didn’t happen. You two didn’t even exchange numbers, you can’t even remember if you said a proper goodbye to him when you stumbled out of that restaurant hanging from your best friend’s arm. 

Whatever led you here started a few weeks after, probably even a month later, when Haechan had already slipped out of your mind, long forgotten, categorized with those people that if you saw somewhere you were sure you already knew, but couldn’t remember when, why, and how. 

But with him, that didn’t happen. When your eyes met again you felt something. He looked different, probably it was the black hair framing his face perfectly, some make-up on his face too, or the leather jacket he was wearing and the chains around his neck. You remembered him, clear as the sky. But he was even hotter, attracting you without saying a word, not that you would’ve heard. You were at a club, and he was leaning against the bar on the other side of you. But his eyes were speaking louder than words, and your feet followed an invisible path that got you right there, on the stool next to him. 

“Look who’s alive,” Haechan jokes, looking at you up and down, eyes lingering for a bit longer on your exposed thighs, the pink skirt you’re wearing giving him a good view of your skin.  

You chuckle, “why would I be dead?” 

He shrugs, before calling the bartender and ordering you a drink. “Don’t know, you disappeared,” he whispers, looking at you.

“I didn’t know we wanted to keep contact,” you say, meeting his gaze and drifting away immediately, it’s a subtle movement, enough to make it seem like the stocked bottles of different types of liquor are more interesting than him. You never react like that, there’s something different in the air tonight and you’re not sure you want to get drunk on that feeling. 

“You’re right,” he whispers, and your legs brush for an instant as he sits better on the stool. “I find you interesting, so I was looking forward to seeing you again.” 

“Really? After a five-minute talk, I already have that effect on you?” You tease, staring into his brown eyes while you sip on the drink that arrived. 

“You talked all night, to be honest. You seem fun to be with,” he defends himself, but you see in the way he acts that he’s confident, your teasing didn’t make him uncomfortable or anything, and you don’t know where your bickering-flirting method is going to take you. “You’re friends with Jonny, after all.” 

You shake your head, placing the glass down, and then fix your skirt. “So following your logic you should be charming and attractive too?” 

He lifts a hand to stop you, “Never called you charming or attractive, do you think that of me, honey? Want me to think you are?” 

You’re stunned and a bit taken aback because you weren’t expecting that answer, and you don’t even expect your body to light on fire. It’s not really about the words, it’s the way he gets you, like nobody ever did before, like you want him to get you, to keep up with you. And it’s also in the way his body talks, it’s addictive, it is charming, the small fidgeting of the fingers, the bounce of his legs while his legs are a bit spread open and his thighs are perfectly wrapped by those jeans that make you want to do unholy things, and his eyes, that taunting, witty light and the grin on his face. 

You shake your head when you realize that you still didn’t come up with an answer, too lost in his details to think about a comeback, and you’d like to die when his melodious laugh resonates from his chest. 

“Should we order another one to ease the tension?” He doesn’t give you time to fall down into the deep end of your regrets and embarrassment, he’s smiling at you tenderly, and you smile back. 

There’s something different in the air, and you’re sure about it, just like you feel more and more like you shouldn’t get drunk on that feeling. 

But you don’t have a choice when the night drags longer and you’re no longer sitting at the bar but you’re dancing in a corner of the club with his hands all over you. You don’t know how you got there, words turned into teasing, teasing turned into something bigger you didn’t know how to deal with (he is good with words), and to bear with them you thought dancing would’ve drawn his quirky remarks out, but Haechan was also good with his body, and once he had you wrapped around him, you didn’t know how to stop. 

You had lost sight of Johnny, but you couldn’t care about him. Technically you had to go home with him, but you weren’t sure you wanted to. 

“Fuck, girl,” he whispers, “you’re good at this.” 

You roll your eyes, but a laugh rolls out from your chest. “Don’t call me girl, it sounds so condescending and you sound like a creep.” 

“Sorry, prefer other pet names, or is your name fine?” 

“My name is fine.” Your name should’ve been a neutral thing to keep him away from your heart, at least — even if he actually isn’t, he is already deep inside your panties by now. But unfortunately, even the way your name rolls out of his lips makes your heart lose a beat. But you blame it on the night, on the alcohol, and on the fact he’s teasing you, whispering it right next to your ear as if he’s casting a spell on you. 

You need to breathe some fresh air because Haechan is becoming too much. He was already all over you and you aren’t used to this. 

When you open the door of the bar and lean against the wall, the cold of the night envelops you before his warmth washes over you again. 

He doesn’t talk, though. Even if your eyes are closed you can feel he is staring at your face, fearfully at your lips while they puff out white clouds of air. 

“Should we take this home?” Those words seem so loud in the quiet of the night, just a few cars passing by and some people stumbling out of the club. 

You don’t reply, your head turns around to stare at him; he’s serious, partially drunk, but serious. And you are in desperate need of a good fuck. Well, you hope it will be a good one, or probably no, maybe you wish it will be terrible so you can rant about it with Johnny and he will make sure you and Haechan never cross paths again. But right now, you’re not thinking with your brain, and you want him, hoping it will be good, and who knows, maybe you can find your perfect distraction. 

“Your place?” You ask straightforwardly, meeting his eyes. 

“Oh, Mark’s at home,” he says, “my roommate.” 

You sigh, you can’t take him home either. “Well,” you say, rubbing your neck and looking away, “maybe next time, then.” 

“Wait,” he stops you by a hand, “have you ever done it in a car?” 

No, you haven’t, and soon you also find out why you’ve never done it.

“Will you please stop cursing?” Haechan rasps, pulling your panties down, trying to block your leg from kicking him in the face. 

“I don’t think this is the best place we could — fuck,” the words die in your mouth when, after rolling his eyes and gutturally groaning to shut up, his lips close around your pussy. It’s a harsh suck on your clit that gets you silent, head rolling back on the backseat. You think that he might be uncomfortable kneeling between your legs, halfway down and halfway up in the space between the front and back seats, but you honestly don’t care, that’s his problem for choosing this out of all the places, not that you had a better alternative, at least the car is clean, unlike the club bathroom. 

It’s not the first impression people would go crazy to have about themselves, but fuck, Haechan’s good at this. It’s like he has a mission, and probably that’s to make you come in the shortest possible time. 

“Why are you so loud?” You ask. It’s not a complaint, you like hearing him moan against your skin, and as embarrassing as they should be, you enjoy the slurp sounds he’s making while his mouth keeps working wonders on you. But your pleasure-haltered voice doesn’t come out how it sounds in your brain and Haechan growls in annoyance. 

“Why are you still talking?” He scolds, pulling away from you, and the sight of his face covered in your wetness makes your stomach twist and your hips buck searching for more. You need him back right where he was, immediately. “Good, these are the only reactions I want from you,” he comments mockingly with a snotty grin on his face before he leans down and resumes where he stopped. 

This time no more words but curses and moans come out of your mouth. Your head falls back slack, and your fingers graze the backseats of his car, trying to hold onto something as the knot in your stomach tightens more with every lick on your sensitive core. 

“Taste so good,” he hums against you, his hands push your legs up for what he can, and his fingers dip into your soft skin, gripping strongly to keep you in place. The cold of the rings adorning his digits makes you shiver and you’d do anything to have them inside you, but it feels so good that you can’t even beg for that, too focused on what he’s already doing with his lips and tongue. 

“Haechan,” you whisper when he quickens his movements and parts your lips more, starting to also tease your entrance with his tongue and making you feel more exposed. You should be more bothered about the cars — and people — passing next to you in the parking spot, but given by your whimpers and moans, it’s clear you don’t care. Truthfully, it’s like you have completely forgotten where you are, not even the painful reminder of the safety belt’s buckle pressing right against your ribcage seems to remind you that you’re in public and anyone could hear — and for now see too, since the windowpanes aren’t fogged by the heat of your bodies yet. 

“Mhh, mhh,” he sings in response, opening his eyes to meet yours, looking at you with so much intensity you feel your knees tremble and your thighs close around his head. “No, no, no, babe, let me do my job.” 

You groan; the teasing, almost condescending, tone of his voice fuels a fire in you, and the orgasm chokes you up. You curse when your climax breaks through your body and leaves you gasping for air while Haechan continues pleasuring you through your high. His hands cup your ass, kneading it, while his tongue plays with your extra sensitive pussy for some more before he pulls away and stares at the mess between your legs with a proud, playful smirk curling his reddened and puffy lips. 

“So, was it worth it for you, spoiled princess?” 

You scoff, brushing your hair back and some sweat off your forehead, while you try to close your legs because suddenly you feel too exposed to him. “You can’t deny the car is a shitty place.” 

He laughs and then shakes his head. “So shitty you can’t take some more for me?” He tilts his head, raising his brows while he briefly looks down where his hands are patiently waiting for your good to go and get out of his pants. 

“If you’re also so good with your dick I think I can take being cramped up in a sardine can some more,” you joke, struggling to sit up because your legs feel like jelly and you can’t believe he made you feel that good with his tongue only. Your first time together? And it looked like he genuinely loved giving oral? Was all this luck a sign of something tragic imminent? 

You scroll your thoughts out of your mind when you feel the sound of the belt unbuckling and his jeans hitting the floor of the car. 

“Fucking worst idea ever,” he curses as he realizes that he can’t fuck you with the denim mid-thigh. 

“I told you,” you retort, and you’d be entertained to watch him curse and struggle some more, pondering if he should just get rid of his shoes too and be naked while anyone could knock on your window and signal you to the police, but you want him too badly and you can’t wait any longer, so you propose a thing, “Sit here, I’ll ride.” 

His eyes light up and you can see the weight being lifted off his chest as he nods and promptly sits in the middle seat. You stare in silence as he pushes the boxers down his legs too before grabbing a condom and rolling it down his length. You could cry because also his dick looks perfect for now, and you don’t go around saying it often, but it’s literally the perfect size, it won’t hurt you and yet it will fill you amazingly, you just know. 

“Enchanted?” He tsk with a bragging tone, winking while he runs his fingers through his hair.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head, but your pussy clenching is your honest reaction, he’s too hot and uses it to his advantage a bit too often, he can’t keep getting away with it. So, you go on with your lie, trying to appear unfazed, you shake your head and climb on top of him, luckily you decided to go for the mini skirt and not the long pants tonight, so you don’t have access problems. You move your hand to grab the base and lift your hips, only when you feel his tip prod at your entrance you start sinking. 

“Oh, shit,” you moan and your head rolls back when you bottom down completely. You don’t move right away, letting yourself get used to his — in fact — perfect girth and length, feeling his hands wrap around your waist to keep you from falling clumsily. 

Haechan lets out a shaky moan too, and his eyes are closed still when you lift your head and focus on his face, but they snap open when you start moving on him. 

“Fuck, eager?” He groans, biting his lips to don’t be too loud, not that it would do anything when you’re moving so fast on him, your ass smacking hard against his thighs, the sounds filling the vehicle. 

“Wanted to fuck you since I saw you standing at the bar,” you confess nonchalantly, and he thinks you can’t be real, but he has no time to dwell on you and the way you are because you’re taking his breath away. He can’t even lie, he wanted you too since the same moment, if not since the very first night, so having you here feels a bit unreal. 

“You’re so hot,” he whispers, eyes moving on your body, watching your boobs bounce with every thrust through the skimpy top, and your thighs, fuck your thighs, he wants to squeeze them and hold them, and so he does, moving his hands there and massaging the flesh, eliciting more moans from your parted lips. 

Your hands clench on his shoulders, your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out a groan but it surprises you when you realize it’s a moan of pleasure and not pain. Your lips twitch in a smirk before your tongue runs on them. “Like the pain?” 

He glares at you, moving his left hand on your ass, slapping it harshly, smirking in victory when a choked moan falls from your lips and your cunt clenches around him. “You too, it seems,” he winks. 

“Fucker,” you slur out, narrowing your brows, and picking up a different rhythm, grinding your hips on him with force to distract him from your right hand creeping on his neck until it reaches his hair and pulls at it with a tug. 

“Shit,” he moans, thighs flexing under you at the unexpected wave of pleasure he feels rushing through his bones. “I hate you.” 

You don’t reply, you don’t need to, it’s clear he doesn’t, and he’s loving it. So, you give him more, leaning in to leave small bites on his neck and collarbones. You don’t let your teeth sink in his golden sink much, your goal is not to leave ugly blooms of purple and red for everyone to see, you want to feel the shivers on his skin and the hisses hitting your earlobe every time you graze his sensitive skin. 

You pull back with a cuss when another smack lands on your other asscheek, and Haechan chuckles darkly at your surprised face. 

“What, babe? It’s the art of giving and receiving,” he says, trying to sound cocky but his breaths are short and he’s clearly fighting himself back to let out all the moans you’re eliciting from him. 

You groan, and you almost lean in to kiss him, you don’t think it through, your body moves on its own but right when your lips are about to crash you stop, seeing eye to eye. “I hope you’re having fun, then,” you retort, but your voice is shaky — he blames it on the sex — and your heart is almost pumping out of your ribcage, but he doesn’t notice, he doesn’t even notice your trembling hand as you try to fight off the anxiety that being so close to him, to his lips, to his eyes, gives you. 

“So much fun,” he snorts, pulling you closer to him by the waist and you have to pull back swiftly, gasping for air. The car feels suffocating, and when you turn around for a split second you can’t see what’s outside, glasses steamed up. 

“Worried about people that could see us?” He teases you, bringing your attention back on him with his thumb on your clit, smirking proudly when your eyes widen and your thighs tremble, and you have no idea how you’re — not only supporting your body up — but still fucking him. 

“Worried about going home with a corpse in the car,” you mutter when he starts moving his finger on your clit, and presses his hand on the small of your back, and you can almost feel the metal meld in your skin for how hot your body is. 

“Want to kill me? After the best fuck of your life?” He pouts, starting to move up into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs. 

“You wish,” you spit out, but oh god if he’s right. 

“Then I guess you’re not gonna come.” He forces you still down on him, the strong grip on your waist almost painful.  

“What?” Your eyes snap open, and your hands have to hold onto his shoulder because your legs can’t hold you up by themselves anymore. 

“Changed your mind? It’s good?” 

You groan, throwing your head back when he resumes the strokes. “It is good, I just want to slap you for no reason.” Because you are too good, and I might already be addicted and I don’t like how this sounds. 

Haechan grins, loving the way you look like a mess in his arms but still talk back and do anything to pretend that it’s not that good. He’s getting off to that, your blissed face, your low, needy moans, your trembling thighs, and your dripping wet pussy making a mess around him. He’s getting off to you, and your stubbornness that makes all your weaknesses so fucking attractive. 

“Haechan,” you slur out, letting your head fall on his shoulder while your whole body tenses up. You don’t warn him, the orgasm runs through you before you can even process it, and Haechan doesn’t need words anyway because your cunt clenching around him and your nails digging into his back again trigger his own release too. Your moans blend together and bounce around the car while your hips move in messy thrusts for a while more before coming to a stop, slowly letting the quiet of the night around you slip into the car and remind you two what you had just done.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, forcing your torso up, and gulping while you look around and hope you weren’t too lost in the pleasure and didn’t hear police sirens or something. 

“Don’t worry, nobody ever walks around here,” Haechan chuckles, watching the expression on your face change into confusion, leaving the fear behind. “Why do you think I always park here if it’s free?” 

“Oh,” you whisper. “So, you bring a lot of people here. Nice to know,” your comment is sarcastic but you can’t deny the small veil of pettiness and jealousy behind it. 

“Honestly?” He says, shutting down a moan of disappointment when your body leaves his, and you try to look for your purse to find tissues to clean yourself. “I never brought anybody here, not for sex at least.” 

You shouldn’t be relieved, but you are, and you shouldn’t. So you shrug it off and turn around after you pushed the dirty tissue into the empty envelope that used to contain it before. “And for what then?” 

“Occasional smoking weed sessions,” he confesses. “When one of my older friends used to drive me and my roommate here, and we escaped those nights with some other friends. I’m not saying nobody ever passes by, but trust me, they don’t care ‘cause they probably will do the same.” 

You hum before staring at the door handle as if it will open on its own.

“Want me to drop you home? It got late,” Haechan asks now that he’s finally put together again and looks at least decent, the flush on his face is still there and his hair is a mess, but he’s covered. 

You shake your head and bite your thumb before your hand lays on the handle. “No, Johnny will drop me home.” 

“Okay, great. Are you alright?” 

You laugh and look at him with a grin on your face. “Playing boyfriend after you fucked me next to a wood?” 

“Oh, shut up!” He yells, pushing you out, and then following you. “Just wanted to check.” 

“Well, I can walk on my knees, so I guess I’m fine, thank you for your concern, Mr perfect dick.” 

Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking to the other side, opening the driver’s door and getting halfway in. “Fuck you, Miss I’m not fucking in a car.” 

“Goodnight to you, too, Haechannie. It was lovely making a new acquaintance,” you joke, and you can’t hold back the smile when he starts the car and drives away all while holding his middle finger up for you to see after sending you a flying kiss. 

When you turn around and hug yourself in your jacket to shield yourself from the cold, you curse at your first step. 

You very much can’t walk without looking like you just learnt how to stand on your feet. 

“Fuck you, Lee Haechan.” 

The rules aren’t exactly written anywhere in your house, it would’ve been weird if someone ever entered and found your ‘10 things to don’t do with your fuckbuddy’, not that many people are allowed in your apartment. That is another of your thousands of unwritten rules, it’s not like you don’t have friends, you are pretty chatty with everyone and get to know people easily, but your house is your safe place, and only a few are allowed in. Haechan isn’t one of that. It isn’t because you aren’t close with each other, by now it had been six months since you started this and well, you got to know each other pretty deeply, but you are terrified that your rules aren’t his. 

You know how to move when you go to his place, you have your ways to don’t turn this amazing sex into a catastrophe of broken hearts and shed tears; the rules are simple and clear in your mind. 

Rule number 1: never sleep over. 

Sleeping in the same bed is romantic. Even when there are no feelings involved, even when no ‘I love yous’ can slur out of someone’s mouth. 

Sleeping in the same bed is dangerous. 

You can appear a bit cold and distant, but unfortunately, you aren’t. And as much you tell yourself to don’t catch feelings, you may never know what happens when you fall asleep side by side and two arms start keeping you warm. Sure, you could sleep in the same bed and still stay away from each other, but what if… yeah, you don’t even like to think about the possibility of things that aren’t in your plans to happen. 

Better safe than sorry. 

But that rule doesn’t last long. Haechan is a little too good and you always finish a little too late, so most of the time either your legs don’t allow you to stand on your feet (let alone drive back home), or it is too late and there are no more buses. 

So, rule number 1 became what used to be rule number 2: if you by mistake sleep over, leave before he wakes up. 

This one is pretty easy to follow. Haechan is more gone than you in the morning and as soon as you hear the first ring of your alarm you are on your feet, ready to go on with your routine. Washing your face, fixing your hair, and finding your clothes so you could be out of there as soon as possible. You would’ve dealt with the other hygienic things back at home. You often thought about carrying a small bag with you with your toothbrush, a towel, and some other things, but that felt too domestic. Even if you had to bring it from home, the idea of brushing your teeth at his place, washing your hair, taking a shower, and walking around his house with only a bathrobe, made shivers run down your spine. Too romantic. 

Rule number 3: never invite him over. 

It’s not only for sex-related problems, it’s also because you don’t want him to get too deep into you. You had spent a lot of time to make this house your home, and you are sure that if you let him in after the doorstep, he would’ve got to know you, and you don’t want that to happen. You are close, but not too close, and you want to maintain the line clear. 

Rule number 4: no kisses.  

Strictly no kisses outside of the bed. Your initial rule included also kisses inside of the bedroom — or whatever surface he fucked you against — but after the first kiss he stole from you, well, screw another rule. It is also quite impossible when, for some reason, you two got so primal with each other. It isn’t a fucking session with him if you don’t spend at least five minutes making out while your hands roam each other’s bodies leaving marks behind. Embarrassing, you think every time those flashbacks assault your mind when you are out of the sex haze. 

Rule number 5: keep it private. 

This also was never spoken but it seemed like Haechan got it too. It isn’t to protect the relationship or some other bullshit, you simply can’t stand people’s opinions about you and your life. Also, what is the point of people knowing you two fucked? That’s too personal and invasive. You don’t want to deal with their comments or their misunderstanding of your and Haechan’s friendship. After all, you two are friends before anything else and you act like friends, but as soon as people know something more is going on, their first brilliant idea is to make up crazy theories of how you two look like such a hot couple and would be perfect together. 

And then there are some more, random rules you make up along the way every time you feel he is crossing some lines or you are. 

It might seem strange that there’s no rule implying not falling in love, right? Well, it’s not in your brain because you never even thought that could happen. You’re not even sure you ever loved the people you dated, how could you fall for your friend with benefits? 

Unfortunately, it never crossed your mind that they are not Haechan. 

You’re not sure when it all started. What you’re sure about is that you never planned for anything to start. The fuck in the car had been, unfortunately, really good, but you truly believed you could live without his dick. But maybe there was something else of him you couldn’t live without, and you had no idea about it yet.

“So, uhm, you know Haechan, right?” Johnny mutters in a low voice while you two are walking back home after you convinced him to go out for a run with you instead of going to the gym. 

You sip from your cup of coffee and stare at him with a question mark painted all over your face, is he dumb?  “Mhh, yeah, you got us in touch?” 

“Like him?” 

The coffee almost spurts out of your mouth, but you still try to keep your composure and only choke silently on the sip that you’re swallowing. “He seems like a cool guy.” 

Johnny snorts, “A cool guy, really?” 

“What do you want me to say? I barely know him.” You don’t like the smirk that crosses your friend’s face, you know what kind of grin it is, the smirk of a man that has a plan you know nothing about, and you don’t like not being aware of what is going on. “Johnny?” 

“Well, you could get to know him better?” 

Your eyebrow rises and you almost stop walking, your brain running too fast trying to keep up with your friend’s bullshit. “What do you mean?”

“He asked if I could give him your number, wanted to be sure it was okay with you.”

“He asked about me?” 

Johnny hums, slurping loudly on his straw. Aren’t straws banned? Why does this place still sell them? Just so he can get on your nerves? You are brought out of your straw-hatred thoughts when he speaks again. 

“Told me you talked the other night.” 

“Talked,” you snort before coughing. “I mean, the music was loud, and we could barely make a conversation, but yes, he seems… fine.” 

“He seemed interested.” 

“Well, give him my number, I’m sure he won’t text me anyway.” 

You got Haechan wrong. So many times actually, because every time you expected he would do something, he would always surprise you by doing the opposite and you weren’t sure it was a good thing. 

When you got home after parting your ways with Johnny, the last thing you were expecting was to get out of the shower and see the notification on your phone from an unknown number. 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx hi, it’s haechan. guess you remember me cause johnny gave me your number 

thanks for giving him the consent btw

we were so busy last night that we didn’t think about this 

You hate to admit it, but you stare at the phone a little too long, why is he so polite about it? Damn, is your bar set so low? Is it really that bad that 90% of the men you met would’ve sent you a dick pic as the first message or a ‘what would you if I was in the shower with you’ text? Probably it is. 

You quickly shake your head, biting your thumb, and get up from the bed, swearing because you already left a wet patch on the duvet. 

“I can’t answer naked,” you whisper, opening the chat and already thinking about what to reply. “I mean, it could come in handy if he asks for nudes but… what the fuck am I talking about?” You curse before throwing the locked phone in the middle of the bed and rushing to the closet to grab some new clothes. 

When you’re all done, in black sweatpants and a white long-sleeve shirt, hair dry, and skincare applied, you slump on the bed and face what has a big chance of becoming your new toy. 

you hi! yes i can’t really forget you

“Oh, jesus, are you kidding me? That’s cheesy. He will never get that I mean I can’t forget about his fingers, tongue, and cock, right?” You huff, throwing your head back, trying to think of something else.

you hi! yes i remember 

“There, so we don’t sound like a pathetic loser,” you hum happily, pressing send. And with that, you might’ve avoided that, but he’s trying to win the race of the best pathetic losers because he replies in less than a minute. 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx great, feared you forgot about me again 

anyway, how are you? 

You stare at the phone, not because you want to make him wait — you really couldn’t get those tricks, truly sure that if somebody is interested in you they won’t disappear or appear based on how fast or slow you reply — you’re truly shocked because, damn, a small taste of you and he is already a sore loser, and you’re not ready for a half-assed small talk conversation. 

Your fingers start typing anyway. 

you good, went on a run with j

you? 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx stayed humble and played with some of my friends 

“Oh, he’s a gamer? That’s why he’s good with his fingers,” you let out before you can think of what you’re saying, and also ask yourself since when you started talking to yourself so much. Maybe Johnny is right, being alone is fucking you up. 

you did you win? 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx of course, babe

do you know whom you’re talking to?

A loser. 

You think but you don’t write it. 

A loser. 

You think of yourself when reading the message, you can hear his honey-like voice whisper ‘babe’ to your ear and your core starts throbbing as if she’s been left starving for years. 

you haha hope you had fun 

Dammit. Since when do you suck so much at holding a conversation? Why aren’t you flirting back? Wait, is he flirting? 

Another groan leaves your lips as you plunge even southern on the bed and lock the phone again, hoping he lost interest in you after that dry-ass message and you can go back to your toys and your ex — update, the sex ranking fell down after Haechan, he wasn’t even good for that anymore. 

But Haechan surprises you, he always does. When your phone dings again you expect to find Johnny congratulating you for being a dumb bitch but instead your jaw falls on the floor. 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx sure did

btw 

can i take you out tomorrow? johnny told me you stop working at twelve on friday so it shouldn’t be a problem

dinner out? i’ll come to pick you up at 7 

“What the fuck?” Your attempt at don’t look like a crazy single 40 years old woman that fell into madness by being only surrounded by her cats didn’t last long. “What the actual fuck?” 

Is that a date? He asked you how you’re doing for some sort of niceties before dropping the question just like that? Why is Johnny so nosy going around telling your business — mental note; talk to Johnny about shutting his mouth.

you fine but i can drive there 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx no dw, it’s a surprise, i’ll drive you

you thanks, i promise i won’t make you wait

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx can’t wait to see you 😊 

You snort, fucking loser, before going to his contact. 

‘pathetic loser’ was added to contacts. 

Haechan surprises you even on your first date, or whatever you could call that. As sweet as he seems, you deep down — precisely between your legs — hope it is a dick appointment, but since you aren’t with your car you aren’t so sure about that, he for sure isn’t entering your place that night. 

You are punctual, already waiting for him outside of your house, and immediately entering on the passenger side when he stops on the sidewalk. 

“Am I late?” Haechan asks when he sees you step in so promptly. 

“No. Why wait, though? See that the first time it was Johnny’s fault?” 

Haechan chuckles before giving you a brief look, studying your red dress, the heels, and the small bag, and then starts the car again. “It’s always Johnny’s fault.” 

Yeah, you totally agree.

“So, where are we going?” You ask, hating the silence that’s filling the car. After the small talks, you stopped conversating, and even if it wasn’t awkward you didn’t want your brain to travel to places. 

“I told you, it’s a surprise.” 

“I don’t really like surprises,” you confess, turning your gaze to him, leaving the city behind you.  

“Damn, you bite back,” he whispers, and you blink in surprise. 

“Am I too honest?” 

“Don’t know, I don’t know you yet.” 

You think for a second that you should end this as soon as possible, he seems too sweet and even if you don’t do it on purpose, you know you can come off as too edgy at times. Not everyone likes being told things to their faces or having set boundaries they couldn’t cross, but you mean no harm, you just want your space protected. 

“It wasn’t supposed to come out harshly, I’m sorry,” you say, trying to meet his eyes and when he stops at the traffic lights, he turns to stare at you. “It was kinda a ‘get to know me’ information and I sounded like a bitch.” 

Haechan laughs, shaking his head, fingers tapping on the wheel, probably to release the tension in his muscles. “I wasn’t offended, I just wasn’t expecting you to be so upfront. People… lie.” 

“I hate liars,” your voice comes out just like before and you curse under your breath.  

“Another ‘get to know me’ information?” He questions, his voice playful while a gentle smile curls his lips. 

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “Add it to the list, it might be helpful if you don’t want to end up on my blacklist.” 

The biggest surprise Haechan gifts you is that… he is not an asshole. 

You expected he would say something during dinner to make your pussy dry, brain dead and stomach convulsing with the urge of puking, but… he didn’t. Nothing dumb, insensitive, tone-deaf, cringy, or creepy came out of his mouth. 

Even when he flirted, he knew how to do it right. He was so fucking good at it, being so subtle he left you speechless and warm, making you dizzy, and, after the tenth eyebrow rise and lick of his lips, even wet. 

And he was funny. Quickly going down the memory lane you could recall that the only man that genuinely made you smile so much was Johnny. 

And well, you’re not quite sure how to feel about this. 

The only thing you feel is the disappointment when he drops you back home and you know you won’t get a good fuck out of that — amazing — night. 

“So, did you have a great time?” He asks, rubbing his hands together to warm them while he turns his torso to stare at you, and you see his eyes linger on you a bit more, probably wanting to take in for the last time how beautiful you looked that night, not that he ever stopped reminding you.  

“Yeah,” you whisper, almost shily. “It was fun, and the food was so good.” Yeah, the food. Not you. Absolutely not you. Never you. 

Haechan smiles, nodding. “Glad you had fun; I’ve never been there, so it was a shot in the dark.” 

“Mhh,” you hum, staring at his lips, thinking how badly you want them on you before shaking your head. “It was a good shot in the dark.” 

“Yeah, sometimes I don’t make a mess,” he jokes, and you let out a laugh too. Good for you, you think. You always make a mess, no matter how hard you try to avoid it. 

“Well, it’s… kinda late,” you start saying, rubbing your arms with your palms, and tapping your heels, hoping he would make a move and drive you to his place, as if he could mentally get you and know that you’re insane and there are only five people that can set foot in your house. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking at you. Probably thinking the same, it’s only logical for him to expect you to be the one to make the first move, your place is right behind you, and you only have to ask him to go inside. But you don’t. And he doesn’t even think about kissing you, of course, he doesn’t, you didn’t even let him kiss you while he was fucking you, he’s sure you would slap him if he only moved closer now. 

“‘Kay,” you sigh, undoing the belt and placing your hand on the handle, “I’ll go in. Thanks for the night, the drive, the food, and the laughs.” A tender smile is sitting on your face when you say that to him before making your way out, bending to say goodbye again, just in time to get the thin veil of slight disappointment and sadness in his eyes. 

“That’s what matters,” he smiles. “We can do this again. If you want to,” he adds, panicking, almost as if he had asked to marry you just to regret it two seconds later. 

“Yeah, we can,” you smile. “It’s pretty chilly out here, so,” you shrug, “goodnight?” 

“Can’t wait to see you again, then. Goodnight,” he says before waving at you. 

You see he waits for you to get inside before his car starts again to head home and you find yourself grinning like a fool when the door closes behind you.  

Yeah, he’s definitely a loser.  

You could call that the start of your friendship, but surely not where the benefits started. Actually, the whole sex thing took a toll for a few weeks where you only got to know each other and hung out casually. You can’t lie, you were sad about it, and you thought you screw it all up that night when you didn’t let him in; nothing could’ve gone wrong for one time you let him in, right? He would’ve fucked you into the weekend, making you see heaven, and then you could’ve kicked him out of the house, right? But you didn’t, and now you are here, absorbed in your torments, trying to find a way to get back to where you started, possibly without ruining your friendship, of course. 

You know the chemistry between you two is still there, but it’s like he’s holding back. You surely aren’t; flirting shamelessly with him, sometimes even in front of your — now common — friends (no need to worry about Johnny, he knows you can flirt with plants when you’re in a peak of insanity and good mood, nothing of your remarks is ever serious — it is with Haechan, but he doesn’t know — you just have zero skills of keeping your tongue inside your mouth and your thoughts inside your brain). 

So, you understand that you need to make a bolder move, the dinners and the meets up around town aren’t working, and your move is Johnny and another night out at the club. 

It works. After dancing together almost all night in a corner of the club, you find yourself pressed against a wall while his hands run on your body and his lips — shily — kiss your neck, and you know you got him. 

“Your place,” you slur, pushing him away, and grabbing his hand to drag him to get your jackets. 

“But Mark’s at —” 

“As far as I am concerned, Mark can listen to us all night, I don’t care. We’re not fucking in the car.” 

“Your place. What about your pla—” he tries to argue but your glare when you turn around and you’re now face to face stops him. 

“Your place, now.” 

He’s good at following orders, or maybe you’re just scary when you want to, but whatever the motive, all that matters to you is that after a fifteen minutes drive — the longest of your life — and a few minutes walk from the car to the apartment, you have Haechan buried between your legs, eating you out as if that’s what he was sent on earth to do. 

You wish you could care about trying to keep it low and don’t moan loudly for Mark, but when Haechan slips two fingers in you and starts sucking on your clit with more strength, his poor roommate slips out of your mind completely. 

“Fuck,” you moan as your head rolls back, rubbing against the pillows of his bed, and your legs part unconsciously. 

“You’re so embarrassingly wet,” Haechan notices, standing on his elbow and licking his lips clean with a flick of his tongue. “Bet even Mark can hear how wet you are,” he mocks, quickening the pace of his fingers inside your cunt, causing the lewd sounds of your wetness to be even louder. 

“Shut up!” You groan, slamming your hand next to you on the mattress before your fist moves in a ball and traps the sheets between your fingers. 

Haechan grins, and a chuckle rolls from his lips while his eyes skim your face, meeting your eyes that are — pathetically — trying to glare at him. “You’re so pretty like this, you know?” 

Another annoyed grunt slips out of your mouth, and you move your head to the side to avoid seeing his face. 

But Haechan clicks his tongue and pulls out of you, making you whine and move your hand to bring his fingers right where they were. He’s faster than you when he sits up and cups your face with his clean hand as his fingers plunge back into you with no warning, cutting the air in your lungs and causing your eyes to flutter shut. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” he orders and you unwillingly open them again, locking them in his. “That’s it, pretty girl.” 

The way those two words roll from his lips shouldn’t make your stomach twist, but they do, you prefer blaming it on the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, brushing against your sweet spot and driving you closer to the climax second after second. 

“I’m...” you mumble, chest lifting erratically because the eye contact is driving you more insane than his hand in you, “...close.” 

The grin that appears on his face is so slappable but you have no strength to lift your hand and do anything, and Haechan can see it in your eyes. That’s how he wants you, speechless. 

“Come for me, babe,” he urges you, pressing his thumb on your clit and moving it in circles. 

“Fuck,” you rasp out, your hand reaches his wrist, and he shakes his head, tsking. 

“No, you’re not pushing me away,” he says, but he doesn’t move your hand away, you are not even trying to push him off, well, you are, but the attempt is laughable and embarrassing. 

“Too much, too much,” you cry out, voice coming out muffled by his hand still wrapped around your chin. “Haechan, please.” 

“Come, we both know you can take much more, don’t play with me,” he growls, leaning in to trap your lips in a messy, heated kiss. “Be good and come for me, would you?” 

You moan and hum against his lips, your hand around his wrist tightens the grip but not to push him away, to hold onto him while his fingers move even faster in and out, your hips buck up and your feet press against the mattress while he keeps you down. You feel like you can’t breathe when the orgasm breaks through and you see stars, shaking under him as you feel the grin on his face as he muffles your whimpers in his mouth. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry out, slapping his hand away when he doesn’t stop moving after your high dimmed down. “Haechan, fucking stop.” 

He laughs deeply and stands away from you, his fingers slip out of you but soon after they’re inside his mouth as he licks them clean while staring straight into your eyes. 

“You will drive me insane,” you mutter low enough only for you to hear and Haechan raises a brow, silently questioning you to repeat, but you won’t tell him that. “Fuck me,” you request instead, sitting and grabbing the hem of your shirt to lift it off your head, throwing it around the room. 

“Hey, I wanted to undress you,” he pouts, watching you unclasp the bra that meets the same fate as the shirt soon after. 

“Too late, should’ve thought about it before.” 

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t move from his position, too busy staring at your naked form. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.” 

Your eyes roll back in your skull while a heavy sigh leaves your lips. “Great, can you fuck me, please,” your voice is venomously nice, and gets him on top of you in a second. 

“Though it was too much? Are you sure you can take it?” 

“If you don’t fuck me, I’ll ask Mark to do it and will make you watch while you’re tied to a chair.” 

He whistles with enthusiasm, raising a brow, “That sounds pretty hot, you know? But I don’t think Mark’s the type to enjoy these things. Should we ask somebody else?” 

“Is there anything that is actually a threat to you or are you so horny that anything is a possibility?” 

“Don’t know,” he whispers with a light tone as he leans in and starts kissing your neck, moving down until his lips wrap around your hard nipple, sucking harshly enough to make you hiss before he keeps talking, “isn’t life boring if you don’t at least try everything once?” 

Your stare could burn him alive. “I swear this is the last time you’re fucking me.” 

“Oh, shut up,” he groans, kissing you to silence you. “Anything legal and not dangerous.” 

“I don’t care about that,” you almost scream. “Just fuck me, now.” 

“Ask nicely,” he coos, caressing your cheek with the back of his index finger and you glare at him. 

“Mark.” 

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes and before you can say another word he slips into you. Your teeth trap your lower lip to muffle a high moan to be heard in the entire house and your nails dig into his back. “Gave you what you wanted.” 

“Not yet,” you whisper through gritted teeth as your body gets used to his size. “Fuck me.” 

“As you wish,” he replies, adjusting better between your legs to find the right position, and after a few seconds, he’s thrusting into you. This is ten times more comfortable than the fuck in the car and you can’t believe it’s happening again. “Yeah, definitely like you better like this,” he comments with a cocky smirk, his eyes are still on your face, and his hands are holding tight on your hips. 

“Like you better when you fuck me and keep your mouth shut,” you bite back. You don’t know why you two get so heated up during sex — fair, two times is not enough to draw conclusions and come up with statistics, but to you, it’s clear this is the way you two talk to each other when things get spicy — when you talk normally, you’re not like this. 

Haechan rolls his eyes and grunts as he pushes with more vigor inside you, swiftly pushing your thighs against your chest with his body, and blocking your wrists over your head. His lips crush messily against yours, trapping them in a rough kiss. 

Your eyes roll in the back of your head when he hits the sensitive spot inside you, and your legs immediately wrap around his waist to keep him close to you. You haven’t died yet — obviously — but this feels like the closest thing to heaven — you doubt you’ll go to heaven, to be honest — but anyway this; his hips rolling against you so perfectly, his hand on your hip and the other around your wrist, his lips on your neck and collarbones, and his cock buried deep into you, this is a taste of heaven, the higher you ever felt and probably will ever feel. And it feels humiliating that he’s got you like this after the second time together, but you don’t want to fight the feeling. 

And you don’t. You moan, even letting out chants of his name shamelessly, and he has to remind you with an amused grin that you’re not alone. Mark is right next door and as funny as it might be, Haechan is not sure he wants to share you in any kind of way, no, not even the way you whimper and squirm under him. 

“Keep quiet, babe,” he hushes you, kissing you again, and you have no strength to push him off. Maybe you can get used to his kisses, after all, it’s just sex, and for some spell, Haechan turns everything he does into sex, so a few heated kisses while he pounds into you until the bed squeaks won’t make you fall head over heels for him. 

You nod, eyelids fluttering as you try to focus on him. His brown hair is falling on his forehead, and there’s a cute, sexy, frown in the middle of his forehead, while his eyes are staring into yours, and you feel the knot in your stomach tug strongly, making your breath cut short. He is so intense, it’s like he can reach so deep into you and discover parts of you that are still untouched. 

“Haechan, fuck,” your voice gets higher when he pulls your hips closer to him and changes angle to fuck into you better, “I won’t last.” 

He snorts, “Good.” 

“No, no good, I…” I want you. I want you all night. I want you all over me until your smell consumes mine. You want to scream but it’s too pathetic. You never went this far for some sex. But nobody ever felt this good either. 

“I can fuck you all night,” he chuckles while his thumb finds your clit and starts torturing you even more. “Don’t believe me?” 

You groan. You do. You just know. He’s been sent by the gods at this point and you’re sure you won’t find flaws in him anytime soon, but you can’t. You can’t stay the night. You can’t let him get so deep into your skin so soon. 

“Come,” he urges you, “don’t hold back.” 

Your jaw tenses before going slack when he flicks your clit just right, triggering your orgasm. It’s intense, running into you from head to toe with so much force that you have to slap your hand on your mouth to avoid waking Mark up. You think Haechan’s close too, you can hear how his moans got lighter and whinier, but once again, he surprises you. 

You don’t have time to complain when Haechan pulls away, leaving you empty. He turns you around, lightly slapping your asscheek to order you to get on your knees while your shoulders stay flat on the mattress, you wouldn’t have the strength to stand on your arm even if you wanted to. 

“Want one more?” He asks against your ear, teasing his tip against your soaked entrance and brushing it against your throbbing clit in quick motions. 

You hum, nodding against the pillow, “Please, please, fuck me again.”

You almost feel the smirk against your face before he fills you once more, stretching your sensitive pussy, making more of your cum drip out of you. 

Your eyes fall shout, a raspy, low moan slips out of your lips, this position is making you feel him even more as the first orgasm has enhanced your senses. You feel like a puddle under him. 

“You feel so good, baby,” he groans, throwing his head back as he picks up the rhythm of before, holding onto your hips so tightly his nails sink into your skin, making you hiss in pleasure. “So warm and wet for me.” 

You hide your head between the pillows, biting back the moans, wondering why Mark didn’t push down the door already because there’s no way he’s not hearing all of this. But for some reason, the idea of him listening turns you on even more. 

And it’s like Haechan gets it. He leans back against you, brushing your hair away so his lips can be right against your earlobe. “What are you thinking, babe?” 

“Ma-mark,” you slur through ragged breaths, “not him, not like,” the words die in your throat, afraid he might misunderstand, “what if he knows?” 

Haechan’s laugh hits you straight to the core, it’s deep and mocking, and you clench harder around him. “Oh, honey,” he whispers, and his voice feels like honey, thick and velvety, “I think he knows.” 

You shake your head, trying to convince yourself he might be a heavy sleeper, but your body is following another direction, feeling excited just at the idea, so you push your ass up. 

“You can’t keep quiet, you’re so fucking loud it’s like you want to get caught,” he taunts, smacking the side of your thighs, smirking when your muscles tense in response. “Want him to know I’m making you feel this good?” 

You deny with a movement of your head, but words fail to come out because you feel on the edge again and you don’t know how much longer you can last. 

Haechan clicks his tongue and then presses his chest against your back. “Let’s see if this can keep you quiet.” The last thing you expect are his fingers pushed into your mouth, but after the first surprise, you don’t even complain. Your mouth wraps around his three digits and you start to suck on them eagerly, receiving a moan of approval from him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.” He knows he won’t last when your eyes flutter at the compliment and you start sucking on them even harder, he can only think about you taking his cock instead. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles, as the images in his fantasy and the one in front of his eyes start having the best on him, hips starting to lose control, “I’m close.” 

You start fucking back into him, and that’s the last thing he needs to come. His moans are higher, and when you turn your head to the side you see his trying to hold them in, biting his lips and gripping your hips tighter with the hand that is not in your mouth. 

The sight of him losing his mind is enough to make you lose yours. You’re in ecstasy as your orgasm pervades your body. 

“Shit,” Haechan growls one last time, his fingers slip out of your mouth and he pulls out of you before he’d like to, squirting some of his cum on your ass and thighs. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry.” 

You barely realize what he’s talking about, but honestly, you don’t care. For what you’re concerned, after the fuck you had, he could’ve come all over you and you wouldn’t have minded.

“It’s fine,” you breathe out. Your eyes fall shut as you focus on your erratic breath, feeling him slump next to you without any other words. 

“Are you okay? Was it too much?” He asks, and at first, you think he’s bragging but when your eyes meet, you realize he’s being genuine. So you nod and beam at him as the only reply you can give him at the moment. 

You lie in silence for a bit, your bodies are not touching and you can only feel his heavy breath calm down with yours as you both wait for your body to cool down again. You don’t wait to be fully recovered to stand up and slip out of the covers, too afraid that sleep will take over you and block you at his side. 

“What are you doing?” He questions, staring at you with an arm under his head. 

“Putting my clothes back on,” you reply with a lift of shoulders as if that wasn’t obvious. You try to search for a bin where you can throw the tissues you used to clean yourself but you can’t find any, so you remind yourself to search in the kitchen before leaving.  

“You can wear something mine.” 

“I would have to hand it back next time we see each other, I can survive in this a bit longer.” 

“You’re sleeping with those clothes?” Confusion blooms on his face as he watches your shaky hands struggle with the zip. 

“No, I’ll change myself into my nightgown.” 

A frown almost connects his brows before he voices out his doubts, “I don’t have it here.” 

“I’m leaving,” you say with a hint of annoyance, he thought you were sleeping there, really? 

“Leaving? You can stay.” 

You don’t answer immediately, grabbing your phone to book a ride home, and then reply while shoving the phone in your bag. “No, thanks.” 

“Do I have to drive you home?” 

“No, I’ve already called a Uber.” 

You see Haechan’s mouth move but nothing comes out and he only stretches his limbs. “I think that might take a while to arrive, though. It’s cold outside.” 

“It’s spring,” you say, walking to the mirror on wobbly legs to make sure you look decent, fixing your air and clothes. 

“It’s still cold. At least wait in the living room,” he proposes, now sitting on the mattress as he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. 

“I’ll be fine,” you smile, turning around, and holding your bag on your shoulder. “I survived walking in a wood at night when I was fifteen, I can survive waiting under your building’s porch.” 

“You’re always so — so,” he sighs, shaking his head, giving up finding an adjective to describe you. 

You chuckle, “Always? And you don’t know me yet.” 

“It sounds like a threat,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. 

You open the door, and take a step outside, only showing him your face as you wink, “Oh, it is.” 

Probably there was some magic in the air — the polluted air of the city made some kind of magic happen — but from then on, Haechan stopped holding back. He wasn’t shy when he texted you ‘house empty, wanna come over?’ leaving no doubts about what was going to happen if you said yes. You found it funny how he treated Mark like his parents, especially after you were sure he heard you fuck that night, but of course, you said yes. 

pathetic loser dinner at that trashy fast food place with the arcade and then dessert at my place😉 

And you said yes. 

pathetic loser i’m busy this friday but marks’s out saturday so we have the whole day to ourselves 

And you said yes. p.s: he made you come like ten times, so it was worth it. 

pathetic loser wanna skip the group hang out and fuck around? 

And you said yes. 

You kept saying yes until you also started asking, and he obviously didn’t decline. It flowed and usually, you didn’t like to leave things unnamed, but you were terrified that if you asked, ‘what are we?’ he would’ve run away scared or, worse, confessed with his big brown eyes and that fucking glint they had inside. 

You didn’t need him anyway to know what you were. Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, sex partners, or any other name you want to give it, you were that. Nothing more and nothing less. 

It still wasn’t your typical thing. You two never sat down and discussed anything, your dear boundaries were nowhere to be found, or better, they existed, somehow he respected them, but you never said them out loud. Not that it was hard to get them, when you never invited him home, never leaned in for a kiss, and never stayed over, he knew your limits and that he had to respect them. 

So, everything worked perfectly fine. 

Until your rules started to be broken one by one before you could even notice, or better, before you could care to fix all the changes that were happening in your life because of Haechan. 

pathetic loser hey

me and the boys are going on a trip to the coast this weekend 

wanna come along? 

you who are the boys? 

pathetic loser  yes, johnny is coming 

You roll your eyes at the screen before tapping a reply.

you didn’t ask that : / 

but yes, need some time off 

you will pick me up, right? 

pathetic loser  you’re so pretentious

don’t you think i should propose to you to come pick you up like a gentleman? 

you fine gentleman, pick me up at my place, see you this friday! 

pathetic loser  i can’t stand you 

It’s Johnny’s fault. It’s his house on the coast, his parents’, to be precise. It’s his fault if right now you have Haechan so close and can’t make a move because whatever is going on between you two is a secret. 

You’re still not sure why it wasn’t Johnny the one to invite you there, you wonder if maybe Haechan slipped and confessed to him that something is going on between you, but you’re sure that Johnny would’ve already bragged to you about how he made the ‘perfect match’ or how it was thanks to him you were finally getting laid, surely after screaming at you because ‘we never keep things a secret from each other’. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when a ball hits you and you lift your head to see Mark running to you, mumbling apologies as if he had stabbed you. 

“I’m fine, it’s just a ball,” you smile to reassure him and lift a hand to cover your eyes because the sun is annoying you. Unfortunately, the sun is not blinding you enough for your wishes because you can perfectly see Haechan playing volleyball a few meters in front of you. You’re sitting on the sand, a sundress on you, while the others left you to play. You weren’t in the mood, too busy letting your thoughts get the best of you, a mix of lewd images of what you would’ve done to the man you couldn’t drift your eyes from and sadness looming over your head like a cartoon cloud. 

“Hey, want something to drink?” You’re still so caught up that you don’t realize Haechan is talking to you. His blouse is big and covers his body, only leaving his arms exposed and a small portion of his chest — he doesn’t like to show much of his body — and you get lost in his sun-kissed skin another time, but when he calls your name, you shake your head and cough, trying to play it cool. 

“Yes, what?” 

“We’re grabbing something to drink, want some?” 

“Oh, yeah, some tea.” 

“Got it,” he says as if he’s accepting a commend and waves you goodbye before running to the others and you follow him with your gaze until he gets out of your line of view. 

You sigh, fanning yourself because even if luckily today the weather is not too hot, you still can’t stand the heat sticking to your skin. You’ve pondered before about jumping in the sea and freshening up, but if just seeing the others having fun had brought back too many — painful — memories, you’re not so sure you can take having ‘fun’ in person.  

“Here’s your tea,” Haechan says after a while with a bottle in hand, once again pulling you out of the tornado of melancholia that was drowning you. 

You smile, lifting your head and grabbing the drink from his hand. “Peach? How do you know it’s my favorite?” 

“You told me,” he replies, sitting next to you, a bit too close, but you don’t scoot over, you like the way your legs brush against each other and also the fact he decided to sit with you and not with your group of friends near the volleyball net. 

“Did I? When?” 

Haechan laughs at the surprised expression that creates a cute, small crease on your forehead and says, “the few times we had a serious conversation that didn’t include dirty talking?” 

You roll your eyes, open the lid and take a sip of the cold liquid, immediately feeling better. “You make it sound as if we don’t hang out normally.” 

“We do,” he replies but it’s like he’s not done, as if there’s something more he wants to tell or confess. He stops for a second, sipping on his bottle while staring at the sea at the horizon before resting his forearm on his knees and sighing, “but you never say anything about yourself.” 

You chuckle nervously, fingers fidgeting with the cap of the bottle. “What’s to know about me?” 

“Everything. You’re a secret.” 

You can hear the bittersweetness in his tone, and if you’d stare for a second more, you would also catch it in his eyes, but you dismiss him and the things he’s silently telling you with his body. You sneer under your breath and shake your shoulders before words roll from your mouth. “Secrets are exciting.” 

He nods, pressing his lips in a thin line to hold in a groan of disagreement. “When you know them and you have to keep them away from the rest of the world.” 

“You want to keep me away?” You joke tenderly, meeting his brown eyes, even warmer and more welcoming now that the sunlight is reflecting in them. 

He laughs, shaking his head. This time he’s the one diverting his gaze, the next words that are about to come out sound too vulnerable in his head and he doesn’t want to imagine how heavy they will sound out loud. “I’m just saying, I would keep some things of you only for me to know.” 

You hum, nodding while staring at the sand, showing nonchalance even if there’s a circus in your stomach. Maybe you can give him something without breaking another one of your rules, but you soon realize that he already knows the small things about you that you told him to get to know each other. He knows where you work, he knows you have a brother, and you know he has two and a sister. He knows you once found a grass snake in a park and took it home because you wanted a snake pet and your father almost threw you outside (affectionately, no kids or animals were hurt, you just had to give it back to nature). He knows your birthday and your favorite color. Isn’t that enough? 

“There’s nothing to know about me.” 

“Oh, yeah, you’re boring, aren’t you?” He mocks with sarcasm and his head falls back in annoyance. “You don’t strike as the bland type of person so try again.” 

“I just don’t get what you want to know. Ask me questions and I’ll answer.” And I’ll lie, that’s what you truly think. 

But Haechan shakes his head, gulping down another mouthful of water. “Nevermind, you don’t get it.” 

No, you don’t get it, or maybe you’re pretending not to get it, that he wants to know you. He wants to learn by watching, by studying you, but you always slip away, you don’t let him close. He doesn’t care about questions, this is not a quiz for him, but maybe that’s the fun of you. He has to work extra hard. And he will.

 “It’s pretty here.” Haechan’s voice fills the night air, it’s chilly outside, and you’re sitting on the small sofa under the porch. There’s nobody but the two of you at home, the others decided to go out and visit the small coastal town at night, but you were too tired to drag your feet any longer, and honestly, you thought you were all alone.

You hum, moving to the side to leave him some space next to you. “We used to come here during summer,” you let out, and it’s impossible to control the smile on your face when you remember your childhood with your and Johnny’s family. “I always sat here at night, I liked the quiet of the beach and the lights of the towns of the coast. My brother didn’t get it,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “he was too busy playing with Johnny. Even when they stopped being best friends, it was like something shifted in summer. Something about this place feels… different.” 

Haechan smiles, he’s not staring at the view, his eyes are locked on you. He thinks that you are different here. He can’t say you two aren’t close, but it’s clear you never let him too close, and he’d like to know why. He knows exactly where your relationship stands, it’s just sex, and he’s fine like this, really, but he wonders if you only do it to protect your heart from unwanted inconveniences or if you don’t trust him enough to let him in. He often thought about prying it with Johnny, but he knows that as soon as your name will slip out of his lips, Johnny will twist everything, and probably that would drift you even further from him. You never had a conversation but it’s clear you both want to keep this between you. 

“It feels like the world stops here,” he says instead to don’t let the conversation die before moving his gaze away, hearing you hum an affirmative response. 

It really feels like time has stopped, and there’s undefined electricity running between you, it’s the same as always and it’s different at the same time. 

“Johnny didn’t tell me about this,” you breathe out; you know it could end in a catastrophe, but you need answers. “Did he ask you to invite me, or did you do it?” 

Haechan doesn’t answer right away, you see him gulp and you fear the worst. There it is, the confession you don’t need, you don’t want it, because he is the best sex you ever had, nobody ever made you feel like that, he completely unplugs your brain and for a few hours, you can leave all your problems at the door, and also because after all, he’s a good friend, and love would screw this all up. 

“He told me I could invite some other of our friends,” he replies, “and I asked about you, and he told me I could ask. He was going to invite you, but I did it first,” he explains, playing with a loose string of his shorts that are barely covering his thighs. “Why?” 

You shrug, it’s the only thing you can do, a breath of relief would be too obvious. “Nothing, I was just wondering. Usually, he organizes these things with me.” 

“Oh,” he whispers, “I think that initially it was supposed to be a boys’ thing only, then Mark brought up Minjeong and here we are.” 

You know he doesn’t mean it that way, but that ‘here we are’ makes shivers run down your spine. Because here you are. This is the closest thing to breaking rule number 3 and 4 and so many others. It’s just the two of you, watching the sunset while the sea plays its melody just for you to listen. This is romantic. He’s not fucking you shamelessly under the porch where everyone can see. You are laughing together, passing a bottle of soju, and sharing touches that feel too intimate. You can’t break any more rules. 

“I was thinking — oh, shit,” Haechan mumbles before you shut him up by jumping on him and crashing his lips on yours, your fingers locking immediately in his hair and pulling it back harshly. “Wow, fuck, needy tonight?” 

You don’t reply, your lips move down to bite his neck while your hips start grinding on him. 

“Calm down, damn, I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, wrapping his hands on your waist now that the shock is gone, “and don’t mark me, you don’t want the others to find out, right?” 

No, you don’t. Or maybe you do, maybe it’s time for something to happen and break you and him apart. Cause you feel you’re going down a slippery slope and you don’t like this. Maybe you should fuck this whole thing up like you always do. But you can’t, deep down, you don’t want to. 

“It’s only been a week,” Haechan mumbles through the kiss. “You’re so needy.” 

“Can you just shut up?” You argue, pressing your hips down on him, smirking when you feel his dick start to press up against you. “So, you do want me.” 

He snorts, “Of course, I do. I wasn’t rejecting, I was just pointing out — fuck,” he whimpers breathlessly when you bite his lips and his nails dig in the exposed skin of your back, your crop top leaving so much bare. 

“Want you,” you say as if you have to make it any more obvious. 

“It’s a bit too public, don’t you think so?” 

You shake your head, moving a hand between your bodies to open the button of your shorts but he stops you again, forcing your hands behind your back, catching you by surprise. 

“I’d love to fuck you right here, in front of the sea and the sunset, but if one of our friends comes back before time, we’re fucked with no way out, so… can we take it inside?” 

You nod, mumbling a faint positive answer, thinking of getting up and running upstairs, but Haechan has no intention of breaking the contact. He lifts you up after freeing your hands so you can secure them around his neck and then pushes the front door open. 

“Let’s give it a turn of keys,” he says, twisting the keys in the lock so you’ll have extra time if by the time they’ll come back you won’t be done. You wait patiently, enjoying the way it feels to be in his arms, and let him carry you on the second floor where the bedroom you share is. Was it a great thing or a curse, you still can’t tell, but for now it seems like a good thing. 

When you cross the doorframe, the clothes are on the floor in less than a minute and your bodies are already tangled in the bedsheets, hands running on each other with eager and soft whimpers filling those four walls. 

You don’t keep track of how long you spend kissing — or eating each other — but you’re sure a few minutes pass by of you just grinding against each other while your tongues and lips meet in a mess. 

“Fuck,” Haechan whispers, his hot breath puffing against your warm, wet, now plumper, lips. “Com’ere.” He lays on the bed, patting the space next to his face and you stare at him with confused eyes. He sighs, “On my face, honey. On my face.” 

“Oh.” 

He quirks a brow. “You were so eager before, what happened?” 

You shake your head, moving closer to him, planting your knees at the sides of his chest. “I was, I mean, I am, I want you.” 

“So? On my face.” 

“I — I don’t…” 

Haechan’s eyes roll back and a heavy annoyed groan comes out of his mouth, “Oh God, don’t tell me your ex never done that?”

“Hyuck, he would rarely eat me out while I was laying, do you think he would make me sit on his face?” 

“Asshole.”  

“Haechan!” 

“He’s an asshole, you know it! But I’m not, so come here and sit on your throne.” 

“You didn’t just call your face my throne?” Your tone is a mix of annoyance and incredulity, but you actually found that too hot to handle. 

“I very much did. And now, do I have to drag you or will you fucking sit?” 

You gulp, nodding swiftly, but your legs are slower at moving next to his face and he doesn’t like your hesitation. You yelp when his hands grab your ass and your thigh and pull you right where he wanted you. 

“Was it that hard?” He asks teasingly, almost growling so close to your skin, before winking at your flustered face. 

The sight of him under you, and his breath colliding with your pussy, make your knees tremble already. “No — no.” 

“Good. But you still didn’t listen,” he says sternly.

“I did, I’m on your face,” you defend. 

“Are you sitting?” 

“No.” 

“What are you waiting for? Do I have to do everything tonight?” His tone is getting lower, and the edge of anger in it causes your pussy to clench around nothing. 

“But I will… I will break your neck.” 

“And I will die like a man,” he insists, challenging you with a glare.

“No, it’s —” 

His mad, animalistic, growl on your pussy when he forcefully slams you on him makes you choke on a moan and throw your head back while your hands automatically grab the headboard to hold onto something. Haechan tends to always be messy when he eats you out, he never does things you don’t like, but he has to make sure you know he’s enjoying it, so he’s always a bit messier and louder than he has to be. But this time he’s taking his everything to let you know how badly he wants you. His fingers are planted on your skin, his nose is pressing right against your clit while his tongue moves to leave kitten licks that quickly turn into open-mouthed kisses. 

“Fuck,” you moan, hands clenching tight around the bar, and head falling down to see him. His eyes are closed and he’s having the time of his life as he sucks at your clit and lips with eagerness. 

“You’re so hot from here,” he mumbles, stopping only for a second to catch his breath before he resumes his movements. His pink muscle moves down, teasing your entrance, slurping up the juices that are dripping out of you, and when your thighs clench around his head in response, he groans gutturally.

You think you hurt him and try to pull up, but he forces you down with strength. 

“Don’t fucking move,” he growls, glaring at you, and you can only hum in reply, feeling your body melt under his skilled movements. 

When Haechan’s lips dare to move down on your sensitive rim, you jolt, but he’s fast at keeping you in place, his hands on your thighs as he presses them down and sends you a daring glare. 

“Hae — I don’t think…” 

“Yeah, exactly, don’t think,” he snarls, the movements on you getting sloppier and louder, making you start to grind against him unconsciously. 

Moans choke you up as he explores new things with you, sending you into a new dimension. You can’t fully comprehend you’re sitting on top of his face while he messily eats out your pussy and your ass. You can’t believe he’s moaning under you, holding you tight, one hand busy touching your ass while the other wonders on your upper chest caressing your waist and your boobs. 

You feel high and drunk on him. So much you can barely mutter a warning before you come, shaking on top of him, your movements are frenetic as you reach your peak while cries of his name slur out of your mouth with low moans. A tear almost slips from your eyes when Haechan doesn’t stop right away and keeps stimulating your sensitive spots, it’s too much and you collapse on the other side, trying to catch your breath. 

Haechan chuckles, licking up your juices before rubbing his nose against your neck. “Fuck, I’d eat you out for days,” he comments, rubbing his hands on your stomach. “You’re so pretty when you moan and squirm, whether on top of me or under, and you taste so good.” 

“You never let me pay you back.” 

He giggles, kissing you, “you don’t have to.” 

“But maybe I want to,” you pout. You can’t deny that you live for how much Haechan loves giving you oral, but you enjoy sucking him off just as much. You love how he lets you have control, how husky and warm his moans are, and you love when his hands weakly wrap around your hair… well, he only let you do it once but you had the time of your life and that never happened when you went down with your ex so… 

“Have you ever tried anal?” He asks out of nowhere, surprising you. 

“With someone? No. By myself… maybe…” 

He raises a brow while a smirk curls his lips. “Maybe? What kind of answer is that?” 

“I did,” you confess, feeling shy all of a sudden.  

“Uh,” he coos, poking your side playfully, “had fun?” 

You lick your lips, shrugging. “Fine, I did. I think I like it, but it might be different with, you know, a real person.” 

“Would you try?” He asks timidly, looking at you with puppy eyes. As if he has to beg to make you do something, as if he doesn’t know you would try anything with him. 

“Yeah, why not.”

“Good, fuck,” he kisses you after letting out the breath he was holding in. “Wanna fuck your ass,” he whispers against your neck, but you can feel the ear-to-ear smile on his face, “wanna be your first time.” 

You’d dwell on how cheesy that sounds a bit more if only it wasn’t for his hands groping your ass and squeezing hard while he ruts against your thigh like a pup in heat. 

“You’re pathetic,” you mock playfully, tugging his hair back, eliciting a broken moan from him.  

“And you’re hot,” he breathes out, moving on top of you to shush you with a kiss while his right arm falls under the bed to search for something. “Been thinking about this all day. You looked so pretty in that short white dress.” 

A small smile paints on your face, but it drops when he keeps rummaging in his bag next to the bag. “Can’t you get up to get, I guess, the lube?” 

“No,” he almost growls. “Want you.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, come on, need you to fuck me.” 

“You’re so impatient,” he groans, “but I got it!” He lifts his hand, showing you the small bottle of lube and you snicker at his proud smile. 

“You’re such a loser, you’re lucky you’re with me because anybody else would’ve been out of the door by now.” 

“And they would lose the best dick of their life, so, dumb decision,” Haechan says before his lips crash on yours again. “And you’re not that dumb, right?” 

You shake your head, already feeling your breathing get shorter when his lube-covered fingers start playing with your rim. 

“You looked so, so fucking hot in that short sundress, fuck,” he moans, pulling away to sit between your legs, he pushes a finger inside and you bite back a moan. “Wanted to press you against the handrail and fuck you right there on the restaurant balcony.” 

Your head rolls back, thinking of that afternoon. The tension between you could be cut with a knife, and there was something thrilling about the way you couldn’t keep your eyes — and hands — off each other and still had to keep it a secret. 

“You should’ve,” you breathe out, choking on your words when he starts fucking you with another finger, curling them inside and stretching you to get your hole ready for him. 

“Yeah? You would’ve liked it?”

You nod, staring into his eyes with a teasing glare. “Maybe I should’ve sat on top of you,” you stop to swallow, eyes squeezing when he brushes his thumb on your dripping pussy and starts teasing it, “on your lap and tried to — to keep it cool.”

He smirks, tilting his head before he pulls his fingers out. “I think you’re ready for me. You always are, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

You are, but when his thick cock pushes into you it still takes your breath away. Your fingers and your little purple toy can’t compare to him, they don’t fill you like this, and they don’t feel so good. 

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb on your waist in circular motions, “taking me all like a good girl.” 

You bite back a groan and throw your head back, breathing deeper and longer before you reach his hand and beg him to move. 

Haechan sneakers, “only if you keep telling me your little fantasy.” 

“I — I don’t think I can,” you confess; he’s barely moving into you, only making circular motions brushing against your sensitive spot, and you already feel weak. 

“I’m sure you can,” he smiles, “I didn’t fuck you dumb, yet.” 

Your holes clench at his words and you gather your sanity to keep talking. “Sitting on your lap, trying to — trying not to fuck up and down on your dick,” you force out when he keeps his promise and starts moving in and out, gripping your hips tight to angle you just how he knows you like it best. 

“You think you can resist it? Stay on my dick without moving?” 

“Ye-yes.” 

He laughs, throwing his head back as he starts snapping his hips faster. “You’re so confident, baby. I would love to see it all fall down.”

“But if I did, they would find out.” 

“Yeah, and think about it, I’d bend you over the table while everyone watches you get fucked dumb. Would you say no?” 

You nod, failing to give him a stronger verbal answer.  

“Liar,” he spits out, grabbing your thighs to push them up. “Every time I fuck you with Mark in the other room you moan even louder.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Oh, no?” He tsks, cupping your cheeks. “Honey, you love putting on shows. Or is it just for me?” 

“For you,” you confess, voice muffled by the pression he’s applying on your face.

The smirk that curls his lips is smug and cocky. “That little dress was for me?” 

You nod and his smile grows bigger before it turns into a pout.

“I didn’t get to take it off.” 

“You were supposed to — fuck — to fuck me in it,” you mumble, catching your breath when his hold on you loosens. 

“Next time,” he groans, “or maybe tomorrow.” 

You don’t reply, only cry out louder when you come unexpectedly, taking you both by surprise. 

“I’m — I’m sorry, it — shit — it felt too good, I,” you don’t truly know how to justify yourself because you don’t know why you’re so sensitive tonight. 

“Shut up,” Haechan stops you with a kiss, “I know you can’t help it when you’re with me.” 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you retort, rolling your eyes. 

“But you love it,” he smirks. “Come here.” He pulls out of you, slapping your thigh as he orders you to sit up. “Want me to fuck you hard?”

You nod, crawling to him at the end of the bed on your own, cupping his face to pull him in a rough kiss as your fingers slip in his hair, and his hands reach your asscheeks, shamelessly parting them before he spanks you hard. 

“Can you take it?” He asks against your lips, rubbing his thumb against your jaw before he brushes it on your open mouth, staring into your eyes. 

“Ye-yes,” you say but your voice is shaking. When his hand wraps around your neck to tease a kiss that he never gives you, you frown, and he snorts. 

“You’re so cute, you know?” His patronizing tone makes more wetness drool down your thighs but you still find the strength to push his buttons. 

“And you’re hard, you didn’t come once, yet. Shouldn’t you fix this?” 

He doesn’t reply, he pushes you onto the bed, making you face the only mirror in the room, it’s not extremely close to the bed but you’re sure it will do for whatever he has in mind.

“I think you’re so pretty when I touch you, kiss you, tease you,” he whispers against your ear, “fuck you,” he fucks into you without warning, and you gasp, “it’s a shame you don’t get to see it. To watch your pride slip out of you every time that I’m inside you.” 

Your head rolls down when he starts fucking into you faster than before but he shakes his head, clicks his tongue, and pushes you up with a tug on the makeshift ponytail. “You’re not running away from me, babe,” he says. “You might not let me into your true self but I have you turned inside out when you’re under me.” 

You blink your eyes, staring at him through the mirror, feeling small because you feel like you can’t keep up with his gaze. Haechan has control, he does have you in the palm of your hand, now, only when he fucks you, and you can’t care to mind. 

You want him to fuck you until there’s nothing more in your brain. You want him to know all the small things that make you feel good. Because nobody before him even wanted to know them, to own you like this, and you don’t want him to stop. 

“Look at you,” he whispers, biting your earlobe, “is it so terrible to not have everything under control?” You feel a hint of bitterness in his voice, almost as if he’s mad at you for not letting go like this under other circumstances. “You don’t have to worry about anything.” 

“With you,” you cry out, shaking a tear away and gritting your teeth when he hits you deeper and you feel your body on fire again.

“Yes, with me,” he says. “You don’t have to think about anything when you’re with me. I’ve got you.” 

You almost scream because you hate how much comfort you feel at his words, they don’t sound sexual, not even now that his rutting into you at a fast speed, fucking your ass with so much force that the bed is squeaking and the slaps of your skin against each other fill the room. Even now, something about him makes you feel in the right safe place and you’re not sure this is how you’re supposed to feel while being railed by your friend with benefits. 

You shake your head, forcing your eyes open as you stare at him in the mirror. “Harder,” you whisper, sinking your nails in the crumpled sheets under you. 

“Harder?” He mocks. “Are you sure?” 

You nod, pushing your ass up, trying to provoke him into giving you more. 

“If you say so.” His hand moves hesitantly on your neck, he doesn’t apply pressure, he just keeps you in his hold as he fucks into you with rhythmic, deep, and breath-taking thrusts. A low grunt escapes from his lips when your eyes roll back for a moment and you start to be more vocal, mouth staying parted and chest rising swiftly as you gasp for air. 

You are a vision. And he could get lost in that. 

“You — fuck — feel like heaven, baby,” he groans, “and look so pretty with no thoughts in your brain.” His voice hits right beside your ear and sends shivers down your spine, the eye contact through the reflecting surface makes you melt, tighten the knot in your stomach and almost come on the spot. 

Haechan chuckles, kissing your cheeks in a mockingly delicate motion. “Were you about to come again, honey?” 

You shake your head, lying blatantly because you know that if you give it to him, he won’t shut up. But he knows you were.

“Yes, you were,” he taunts with a sharp laugh. “What did I say about holding it back?” 

“But I — I can’t, fuck,” you cry out. “Too much, can’t take another one.” 

“Yes, you can,” he orders. “Come for me, and then I’ll show you, you’ll come again.” 

The last thing you want to do is listen to him but he’s a sneaky piece of shit that knows you too well, and when two fingers rub against your clit and two others pass from your neck to your mouth, forcing you to suck them, your orgasm explode before you can even try to fight it. 

“I fucking — ugh — hate you,” you cry out, still shaking from the pleasure, writhing under him, shaking your head when he cleans his fingers on your chin. 

“The mess on your face is nothing compared to the mess between your legs. You know, right?” 

Yes, you do. You can feel your pussy drip an embarrassing amount of cum, and you know how much your hole is clenching around him. But it’s not your fault. 

The sounds that come from his mouth are pure condescending mockery as he smirks down at you. “Can’t answer me anymore?” 

You’re about to open your mouth but he shuts you up with an open hand on it. “I don’t want to hear you. I don’t need to hear you to know you’re going dumb on my cock.” 

You muffle something but it’s in vain, and his eyes glint when you give up in two seconds. 

“You’re right,” he groans, “something is different about this place. You never let me have so much — fuck — so much control over you. You never let me fuck you this good, like you deserve.”

You’d like to complain. Because if he thinks that your past fucks weren’t this good, he’s dead wrong. But when your eyes lock, you get he’s still talking about something else. It’s not about the sex or the many orgasms, it’s about you. You didn’t talk back, you didn’t roll your eyes when he called you ‘pretty’ or ‘beautiful’, and you’re not running away even if he’s all over you. You get lost in his bites and kisses on your shoulders, on his hands on your skin, and his words filling your brain. 

“Wouldn’t fuck you in front of the others,” Haechan grunts. He’s picking a brutal pace and you feel like you could break, but moans are still coming out of your mouth, hoarse and needy. “They don’t deserve to see you like this,” he groans, slipping a hand under you, reaching your clit, and making you yelp. “This is only for me. This is mine to see.” 

Your eyes roll back. The possessiveness in his voice shouldn’t make you feel things, but it does, it gets your inside to twist and your heart to race and your cunt to clench around nothing even more. You feel like your chest could explode when he keeps repeating that you’re his and his only and you can tease everybody else as long as you want but no one will ever make you feel like he does. His pace on your clit speeds up, while his head falls in the crook of your neck, and then his hips still, the orgasm hits you at the same time and your bodies freeze as the pleasure buzzes through your bones, his hand falls from your mouth and you gasp for air while he collapses on top of you. 

You start breathing in synch, and you enjoy the sensation of his chest on your back, but that doesn’t last long. He’d love to stay there some more, but your friends might come back in minutes now, and he truly doesn’t want anyone else to even get a glimpse of you like this. So he rolls to the side, turning his head to stare at you while he dares to caress your back with his hand. You never let him do it, he had tried, he thought aftercare was essential and that after everything he put you through you deserved more than just a simple ‘are you okay?’ followed by your positive answer before you slipped to run back home or if he was lucky only in the bathroom before you came back to sleep next to him, as far as possible. 

But this time you don’t glare at him, and you don’t move away, you move closer, not much, but for you is a lot, and you keep your eyes closed while your left hand searches for his body shily, you don’t touch him, it’s just a brush of your fingers against his stomach, but it makes his heart jump in his throat. 

“I think…” he whispers, stopping when your eyes flutter open, terrified he ruined something, but you don’t talk, “I think we should shower, so we can be asleep when they come home.” 

You smile, stretching and covering your mouth when you yawn. “If you carry me,” you mumble. “I can’t walk.” 

He chuckles and then sits up. “It’s my fault so, yeah, I’ll carry you.” 

Nothing changes after that small summer trip. You go back and start being stressed once again and the only relief you have is Haechan. Some days are so stressful that you beg for him to come pick you up at work so you can eat something outside and then head back to his apartment to fuck. 

Yeah, to fuck. 

That is always the original plan, the only thing you need him for. You feel bad for some time treating him like a living dildo, but isn’t it what you two are for each other? You know there’s respect, and care, not love, never love, but other than being friends, when you meet up alone there’s just sex. 

That’s what it’s supposed to be. 

But then those things turn into… something else. You think it started one night when you came to his place but couldn’t jump on each other because he got a phone call he couldn’t decline, and you had to sit on the couch. You could’ve been a tease and started masturbating in front of him but that thought didn’t even cross your mind. You sat there, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv, hoping to catch something to keep you entertained, and you did. It was one of your favorite movies and when Haechan ended the call and sat next to you, you both had forgotten why you were there. 

Just like right now. It’s a Friday night and you came to his place to spend an evening together. No, you didn’t break any rules, it’s just a simple movie night. After you found out you both have an interest in films you couldn’t stop thinking about it, so it was an excuse to watch and discuss some movies together. 

“Hi,” Haechan opens the door, and he looks wrecked. You panic seeing him because it looks like he fought with a bear with bare hands, he’s sweating, and his hair is a mess, and your heart clenches in your chest… is he fucking — “I cooked.” 

Oh, he cooked. 

That made perfect sense, but it doesn’t make sense that you panicked at the idea of him with another girl, almost feeling sick to your stomach and about to throw up. You mentally slap yourself and smile as big as you can before making your way in. Suddenly regretting that you can’t slam him against the couch and ride him until you both pass out. 

“Last time chips hurt your stomach, so I made fries, and some small pizzas,” he exclaims, disappearing in the kitchen before showing up again with his hands full. “I hope you like this.” Haechan almost passes out when he sees the smile on your face, it’s so big and he swears he never saw you smile like that, but the moment of happiness doesn’t last because that smile disappears after your thanks. 

It’s another mental slap to yourself and your heart for beating so damn hard. It’s just snacks, anybody would have done that, right? Except you know damn well it’s not true. Your ex never cared about the few things your stomach hated and kept you up at night. Sometimes even Johnny forgot you couldn’t eat chips for God knows whatever reason. And it is annoying to fry and turn on the oven when he could’ve just opened a bag and eaten. 

Haechan is a good person. You justify. He is. You know it. He’s kind, good with kids, doesn’t know how to cook but he tries (for you), and when you tell him something makes you uncomfortable, he always tries to fix it as soon as he can, he’s perf—

“We should eat before it gets cold, then,” you almost scream, scaring him because you were dead silent in your thoughts for too long. 

And Haechan thinks he will never get you. But it’s fine like this. You are to discover, and he likes it. It’s thrilling, and every small step deeper into you feels like the biggest of the rewards. But he wonders when, and if, he will ever reach your core. 

For now, it’s fine like this, as you sit on the couch with the food in front of you and the movie you picked starts playing on the screen. 

After those movie nights, you should leave. You never set them too late for that reason, so you can drive back home before midnight. It’s easy to do, you’re just a bit tired but your legs are not shaking post-orgasm, your heart is not jumping out of your ribcage and you’re not leaking cum. 

It is easy. 

Yet, you stop doing it. 

“Why don’t you stay?” 

You should leave. Just like you did that one time he woke up with you and asked you to stay for breakfast. You were late. And right now, you can’t be late, but tomorrow you need to be home before nine because you have something important to do. It’s an easy lie to tell, he doesn’t know anything about you anyway. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper and Haechan looks taken aback. Of course, he is, that’s not a typical response of you. You would’ve screamed something at him, acting like a dog when someone crosses its personal space, barking left and right (not the nicest comparison he had told you — yes, he did — but you couldn’t get mad cause he was right). “I don’t have a toothbrush or my towels.” 

You realize that you broke another rule when Haechan stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. That’s the reason why you can’t stay. And the way those words came out of your mouth shows that you’re almost — he learned he has to be careful with you — sad for it. 

“I have a spare one,” he says before you can go back to your true self, “it can be yours.” 

That toothbrush eventually becomes yours. It sits there, right next to his, and every time you get up in the morning to escape from his bed, you’re reminded of all the lines you’ve crossed. You didn’t bring it from home, he fucking gave a toothbrush to you, and he doesn’t keep it scored somewhere in case you need it, no, it stays right there, always, next to his, as if it belongs there.  

You know it doesn’t, it feels weird, romantic, and domestic, and fuck it, you never left any of your belongings in your ex-boyfriend’s apartment. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to take it out and throw it away. 

It’s because you might need it. 

Yes, you might need it. 

That’s what you tell yourself. 

Things start going downhill when you break rule number 3. 

Technically you didn’t break it. 

You didn’t exactly invite him over. 

A phone call at midnight while drunk-you slurred out incomprehensible words and sobbed like a child to whom somebody just stole their favourite teddy bear can’t be considered an invite, right? In your defense, when he hung off the call, making you sob even harder cause you thought you fucked it up another time, you weren’t expecting the bell to ring ten minutes later. And when you dragged your body to the door, you didn’t expect to find him standing there, his nightwear only covered with a jacket, his hair a mess, and his breath short, a clear sign he rushed to your place. 

“Are you okay?” Haechan asks worriedly, shaking your shoulders to make sure you’re alive and not a creation of his imagination. 

If you were your usual you, you would’ve slapped him. Wasn’t it clear that you are not fine? But you’re not there tonight, so you say something else. 

“I’m sorry,” you sob, tears streaming down your face as you feel guiltier than ever, “I didn’t know who to call.” 

If you were your usual you, you would’ve been able to see the glint that crossed Haechan’s eyes at your words, probably even to hear his heart skip a beat and his hands shake for a brief moment, but again, you are not there tonight. 

“What happened?” He asks, trying to appear calm but he’s not calm at all. You are vulnerable, you. And out of all the people to be vulnerable with, you chose him. 

“I’m an asshole,” you mumble, letting your body fall into his arms, face hiding in the crook of his neck while you let go to a nervous cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m here now. Should we sit?” 

You nod, but you’re not really giving orders to your body when he drags you to the couch and lets you cuddle up next to him, shushing you and rubbing circles on your back. 

“I never do anything right,” you mutter, holding yourself closer to him, hoping you’ll disappear into him and won’t have to face another day. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“But you don’t know me, you… if I only… if you only knew all my flaws you would run away, even if between us was just sex.” 

Haechan’s face twists in pain as he looks down at you, only seeing your hair because your face is still pressed against his chest. “Cause it’s not?” 

“We’re friends, but you…” your words die in your mouth, trying to give an order to all the things that are running in your head. “I try to fix things and then they go wrong, and how do I stop being a bad person? How do I stop hurting everybody?” 

“Who did you hurt?” 

“I mean… I am hurt, but I… is he manipulating, or am I truly a bitch?” 

Haechan can’t follow you, he wants to be a support, but you aren’t giving him clues about anything that is going on and he’s terrified of crossing boundaries, especially now that he has you so close and honest in his arms. This feels more intimate than all the sex you shared, and it’s scarier. 

“Who are you talking about?” He dares to ask, losing the hold on you when you sit up, moving away from his body, not much, your legs are still pressed together, and you search for his hand for comfort. 

“My ex.” 

“Your ex?” 

You nod, biting your lips just to prevent another terrible sound to roll out. “I started thinking… about us and why we didn’t work out, and… there were so many things that didn’t sit right. I don’t think I was crazy over him, but I… I’ve always respected him. He surely wasn’t the love of my life but fuck,” at that you break down again, turning your face to the side because even if you’re in the middle of a breakdown you can’t be so vulnerable to Haechan’s eyes. “We’ve been together for a year and a half and only now, because I asked for more closure, he told me he used me just for sex. And as the dumbass pathetic mess I am, I… we… we used to fuck.” 

Haechan’s jaw tenses as he listens to you, it’s probably not his place to syndicate since you two are using each other for the same reason, but it’s mutual and consensual. He coughs and then speaks when you don’t explain more. “After?”

“What?” 

“You went back to him after the breakup… to fuck?”  

“Yes,” you cry out, voice coming out in a yelp. And you know you look like a mess, tears and snot staining your face, but you can’t control your emotions anymore. You feel stupid. Every time you let your sentiments have the best, life proves you shouldn’t do it. 

Haechan sighs, taking you back in his hold, letting you go off in his embrace. He doesn’t talk, not sure of what to say, and let silence pass by, lulling you, and drawing circles in your hair. Only when you’ve calmed down a bit he talks. “Why are you the bad person in this?” 

“Cause he told me I’m insufferable. He said he loved me at first but… every day with me was ‘killing him’ or whatever. Because I… I like things done a certain way, I like order, I… I can’t let my life go into shambles, Hyuck. I’ve lived the worst days of my life because I had lost control, I feared I wasn’t going to make it out alive only because I wasn’t mentally there anymore, because I wasn’t in control. I let people walk over me and put myself last. I can’t go back there, I can’t.” 

“You’re not insufferable for being honest. You’re sincere about what you feel, not the type of person that hides behind honesty to make fun of others or to push them out of their comfort zone. I mean, surely sometimes it’s a lot when you want to have so much control over things, and how badly you react at times when a minor thing doesn’t go as planned. But I think that there are some flaws the people that love us should learn and comprehend, and either decide it’s not a weight for them or be frank and break up. Not everyone can carry the baggage that we bring with us, and that’s fine.” 

You sniffle, knowing he’s right, but also feeling that nobody seems to be able, or willing to even try, to carry the baggage you carry with you. 

“Would you date me?” That was the alcohol talking, and the heartbreak, and Haechan knows it. But he doesn’t know how drunk and heartbroken you are. He doesn’t know if this is a tricky question, if you would’ve remembered it the next morning and instead of taking it as a friend supporting you, it would’ve caused you two to drift apart. He doesn’t want to lose you, so he circles around it the best he can. 

“Your value is not in the people who would date you or not, not even in those who did, like your ex.”

“Yes but, isn’t this the same? I am using you for sex, I’m doing the same.” 

“It’s not the same. We want this, and we’re friends. I’m here, supporting you. I don’t think he supported you that much while technically you were dating, am I wrong?” 

“No, you’re right. I should’ve seen the signs.” 

“We’re all good once things are done, but we can’t blame ourselves from the past. You were in love, it doesn’t matter that you weren’t madly in love, you never disrespected him. While he made you believe he loved you, and in reality, he stopped feeling that and still used you. So, who’s the asshole here?” 

“Him,” you whisper with a shaky voice. 

“Good, that’s my good girl,” he praises, caressing your cheeks and wiping the tears away with his thumb. “See, you can see things clearly after the storm.” 

You hum, a small smile plastering on your face before you cuddle closer to him. You take a deep breath, inhaling his perfume and you feel at peace. “You know I like you, right? Like, I respect you and care for you.” 

Haechan’s smile goes from ear to ear, deep down he does, but he would’ve never expected you to say it out loud. “I know, even if you run away from my bed as if I bite you.” 

You laugh, hiding your face against his chest and your fingers tighten around his shirt. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine, I’m used to an empty bed anyway, so it’s not much of a difference when I wake up and don’t find you there.” 

Your head rolls up, chin pressing between his sternum as your eyes meet his. “Mind not waking up to an empty bed tomorrow?” 

“Mh?” 

“Can you please stay the night?” You ask shily, voice quivering. “I know I’m selfish, but I need someone with me.” 

Haechan smiles, “It’s not selfish, that’s what friends do.” 

That’s what friends do. 

Cleaning your smudged makeup and tears. 

Giving you water and an aspirin. 

Helping you clean your body and even apply moisturizer. 

Taking care of your hair. 

Putting you in clean nightwear. 

Whispering a song to your ear to make you fall asleep. 

Holding you close the entire night, so you don’t have nightmares. 

Yeah, that’s what friends do. 

You know Haechan has a… sparkling personality. He’s chatty, outgoing, and friendly with everyone. He’s not so different from Johnny, so you two get along well because you grew up with your best friend starting conversations even with walls, it doesn’t annoy you when Haechan does the same. 

Well, it didn’t annoy you. 

Other than that, Haechan has this tendency of flirting with pretty much everyone — of age, and that doesn’t give signs of discomfort — not so different than you, so you couldn’t get mad at him for that, right? Those flirty remarks are jokes, silly things that fit into the moment and that he says just for funny purposes, right? 

You aren’t so sure about it. And you aren’t even sure why you care so much. That sensation at the pit of your stomach every time he talks with someone else, touches them, or winks and smirks, is not normal. You know he’s going to take you home and fuck you all night, giving you exactly what you ask for, so why do you feel like this? 

“This place is dope.” Mark’s voice rings loudly in your ear, and his body touches yours as he messily sits next to you on the bench, dragging you out of the intense staring competition you were having with yourself, Haechan and his new friend’s body. 

“Yeah, Johnny always finds the best places,” you force out, gripping the empty glass in your hands tighter and obligating yourself to look around and not go back to Haechan and that fake blonde girl that is all over him. 

“Seems like someone’s having fun,” Mark laughs, looking in front of you and you curse mentally because you know who he’s referring to, and right now you wish Haechan wasn’t having the time of his life. “Johnny made a match for himself and for Hyuck too, the only one missing is you.” 

You chuckle, looking at the floor, sighing deeply before you decide that it’s better to divert the conversation from you. “Where’s Minjeong?” 

“Oh, she’s at home, actually I’ll leave in a few minutes cause I have to go to her place,” he says with a smile on his face and you think it’s cute how he reacts when she’s brought up. He’s so madly in love and she is too, when they come along they make you wish you had what they had, for two seconds, just two. “Also doing Channie a favour, you know,” he winks and then chuckles, but you don’t find the implications funny, and your stomach twitches in discomfort. 

Did Haechan ask him to leave the house empty or is he just being playful? And what if you won’t be the one Haechan takes home? 

“I don’t think he’s going home with her,” you say, barely hiding the bitter tone. It’s not an opinion, you’re manifesting because you can’t bear that thought, but Mark is not on your track and he snickers again. 

“Think they’ll end up doing it in the bathroom or the car?” 

You force out a laugh while replying, “God, I hope not.” But you’re dying inside and you wish Mark would leave so you can run outside, slap yourself, go back inside and find somebody else to fuck that night and put your dumb brain — or heart, but you’re not ready to accept that just yet — to sleep. 

“I think he will last until home, he’s not a fan of doing it in unpractical places, dirty or too risky.” 

“Is the car risky?” 

“Yes,” he replies as if he’s shocked by your underestimation. “People know what goes on even if they can’t see, and then it moves and fogs and it’s… embarrassing. Haechan has never been that attracted to somebody to the point of fucking in a car, he’d rather go home with his balls blue.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Too much information,” you joke, shrugging off how your body heated up, and Mark apologies through laughter before standing up. 

“Sorry again. Man, I’m used to making fun of him with him and got carried away.” 

“It’s fine, I’m a grown woman, sex doesn’t traumatize me,” you reassure but your dumb heart is beating weirdly faster in your chest, and the awareness that Haechan never done it with anybody else, that he also broke one of his unspoken rules for you, is driving you insane. 

Now you’d like to get up and drag him by the hair and ask him if he would fuck her in a car but you don’t, you can’t. So you say your goodbyes to Mark and then stand up to walk to the bar, some alcohol will do. 

“Hey, pretty,” a man’s voice speaks from the side; barely five minutes of peace and you are already crowded with unwanted attention. 

“Hi,” you reply back, trying to bite back the bitterness of your voice, whoever that man is, he isn’t the man you want to reach your side. 

“All alone here?” 

You roll your eyes at his lame pick-up words and at the hint of the smirk you can hear in his voice. “I’m with friends, just need to cool down for a bit.” 

“Oh, all dating and all over each other while they forget about you,” he jokes and only then you turn around. Partially true, but being left alone by your friends had never been a problem, you always found someone that wanted to dance with you, even right now you have this man — a handsome man, with black hair, tanned skin, and a somehow not creepy smile — hitting on you but he isn’t the man you want. 

“I’m not actually,” you lie, you don’t even know why. You could’ve said yes, flirted with him a bit more, ground against each other for a while before going home, to his place, wait, to his place? What if he was a murderer? And with what car? You should’ve called a Uber, or worst, slept over. But soon you realize his bed isn’t the bed you want to fall asleep into after some draining orgasms. The idea of even being at his place makes your skin crawl and you push down a groan when two brown eyes, auburn hair and bronze skin fill your thoughts instead. 

“Then why are you alone? You’re too pretty to be wasted here, sitting all by yourself. I could hear your thoughts from there,” he says, pointing at where he was sitting before. 

Your face twitches in irritation, you don’t like being called pretty, not with that tone at least, and not by men that aren’t Hae— anyway, you don’t like it. It feels like mockery and when it comes from men’s lips it feels like they’re trying to box you up there, as if being pretty is all you’re worth but at the same time, they can’t compliment you with words like ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’ because then they would boost your ego too much and they cannot compete with confident women. 

“And what were my thoughts, Harry Potter?” You joke, trying to hide the bitter tone with a forced small smile. 

He snorts, shaking his head, and shifting closer to you. Your first reaction is to move away but another body on the other side stops you from going far. 

“I don’t recall Harry Potter being able to mind read,” he whispers, and you feel his breath collide against your neck, and his fingers graze your thigh. “Anyway, I could tell you were begging for attention.” 

You gulp. You don’t like this anymore, you didn’t like this in the first place, to be honest. But him being all over your personal space without your consent is making you uncomfortable and for some reason, you can’t react like usual. Maybe it’s because he’s not doing anything, or well, not something so evident that wouldn’t make the whole club call you a crazy attention whore for accusing an innocent man. 

So, you sit quietly; if you don’t talk back, he’ll get tired and will leave, that’s what you pray for. You just have to wait for a miracle. 

And just when you’re about to lose all hope, and the man moves even closer to you, a fit of cough brings you back to earth. 

“Honey,” Haechan calls, “sorry, the line at the bathroom was endless. Should we go?” 

It takes you a while to realize he’s talking to you, but once your brain registers his voice, you let go of a breath of relief, and when you turn around you meet the pissed-off expression of the man next to you. 

“Who’s this?” 

“Her boyfriend,” Haechan talks before you can even think of an answer, too dumb you were already thinking of a short way to explain what was going on between you. “Needed something, sir?” 

Haechan is clearly mocking him, staring at the stranger with a challenging glare and moving closer to you, almost to shield you from him. 

“Nothing, have a great night,” the man mutters angrily before walking away. 

“You too!” Haechan screams and then turns to you. “Are you alright? It seemed like he was crossing some lines.” 

You’re still shaken, and only mumble some hums as a reply. It’s not really because of that man but mostly because you weren’t expecting this from Haechan. Or worse, you weren’t expecting your heart to react when he called himself your boyfriend. 

“I’m fine,” you whisper before briefly looking around, this is getting too much. You don’t give him time to check another time that you’re up and walking speedily to grab your jacket and storm outside. Haechan doesn’t get it, for the nth time he can’t predict anything of you, and he feels guilty because maybe he read you wrong, maybe you were willingly flirting with that man and he fucked up everything. But he still runs after you, and that’s, one, not what you expected, and two, not what you needed. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were flirting back with him,” he apologizes, running after you, grabbing your wrist, and forcing you to turn around. 

You sniffle, looking at the ground because this is so pathetic and it’s already the second time he catches you crying and you can’t bear how vulnerable you have shown yourself to him — yes, that is too many times for you. Bottling up feelings and emotions is your top skill after programming everything like a mastermind to make sure everything would flow perfectly and everyone would have a very specific image of you, so why the hell are you a mess every time he comes around? 

“I can go talk to him and explain it to him —”

“No,” you stop him. “I… I’m a bit overwhelmed because I… I wasted a night out, I could’ve stayed at home and written a little or gone on with my favourite series, but you know…” 

“Fleabag?” He taunts, tilting his head as he tries to meet your eyes.

“Yeah,” you whisper, running a hand on your neck.  

“You already know it by heart, it would be your tenth rewatch,” he jokes but when you look at him with your lips awkwardly pressed in a thin line, his eyes go wide. “Oh God, you started it again?” 

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, “it’s my comfort show, and then the other day I fucked up again, I needed to see myself being a total failure in someone else and Fleabag is always there for me.” 

Haechan chuckles, shaking his head, still staring at you with an amused expression. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Need a hot priest too?” 

That should make you laugh — oh, how much you wanted that — but it only makes you let out a chocked sob because fuck, he surely doesn’t carry a rosary and the bible is not his favourite book, he can’t say mass, but you feel like Haechan is your hot priest. He’s fucking you up in ways nobody else ever did. Fleabag at least had God and morals to come between them but you, what do you have? Nothing. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling you in a hug, “no hot priests, no judging for your fixations. How about you tell me what is going on?” 

“No,” you reply, hiding in his hold. It should be easy, embarrassing but easy, to slur out that you’re a mess because you feared he wasn’t going to pay you a bit of attention, surely you should’ve turned it into a confession of how dick-addicted you were and how badly you needed him — vulgarly, his cock — after an entire week of absence, but it’s not easy to be your usual — or past — self when you feel like you are missing him more than you are missing what he knows how to use best. “You should go inside, she’s waiting for you.” So you place the weight on him, hoping he won’t take you home because you can’t do another night like when you called him in the middle of desperation. 

You don’t catch his expression, a held-back smirk mixed with eyes full of surprise, but that would be the look on his face that you’d see if you’d stopped staring at the cobblestones on the sidewalk. 

“Are you… jealous?” 

Your head is not facing the ground anymore, with a snap so fast you know it’s a miracle you didn’t break your neck, your eyes lock with Haechan’s. And then you laugh, hysterically. It’s a fake laugh and he gets it, he can see you panic, he saw it in your eyes that brief moment they intertwined, and he knows. 

You are jealous. 

And you know he knows it, so you have to fix this mess. 

“Fine, I wanted to fuck you tonight, it’s been a week and I’m kinda needy, and seeing you with her got me mad, but not jealous. Do you know when you’re horny, you think you’re close to getting some relief and then something happens and what you have in mind doesn’t happen anymore?” You ask, and you see in his face that he’s barely following the words you’re spitting out before you can betray yourself. “But it’s fine, my toys are still working, so I can use them instead.”

“Are you walking home?” 

Oh, so he doesn’t care about anything you said? He didn’t believe it, right? Fuck, now he’ll think you love him. 

“Yes.” 

Haechan shakes his head, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the opposite side. “Come on, don’t make me drag you.” 

“I’m not going back inside,” you say, trying to pull away and he stops, sighing. 

“Honey, I’m taking you home.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

You’d fight if you weren’t a mess, you surely would do it and tell him it’s not necessary, but you need a ride back home so that’s the only reason you say yes. You don’t hope you will break rule number three again and he will fuck away this sadness you’re carrying around. Why are you even sad? He’s there, right at your side, driving you home after you cried like a child in the middle of the street, comparing yourself to a fucking tv series character, an insane character, by the way. 

“Do you think I talk to myself?” 

“What?” He almost swerves when you talk after five minutes of straight silence. 

“Like Fleabag, you know. The thing she does when she talks to us?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen you turn around mid-conversation to stare at a spot behind you or to your side to talk to a camera, so I guess no.” 

You sit in silence, blankly staring at the street in front of you. Oh, you do. Not the camera, not really, but you are slowly transcending into the madness of that old cat lady that Johnny always talked about. 

“I’m insane,” you cry out. 

Haechan laughs, turning to stare at you for a split second, and smiling again at your devasted face. “I just think you’re drunk.” 

“I didn’t drink,” you huff, throwing your head back against the seat and closing your eyes while you damn every decision that led you there. “Got two small glasses of something that wasn’t even worth it while I watched you grind on her all night.” 

Shit. 

Fuck. 

“She was hot.” 

Think fast. Think fast. Think fast. 

“You should’ve gone home with her. Can we go back so I will go home with her?” 

“I take it back, you are insane, not drunk,” he giggles, caressing your thigh when the car stops at a traffic light. 

You groan. Why is he so unfazed by your weird tactics? Why does he laugh so tenderly even when he’s teasing you? Why does it feel like he holds so much love in his voice, words, and touches? “I’m sorry, it was a shitty night and I’m… overstimulated. Not sexually, but mentally. Everything feels doubled.” 

“That’s why I’m taking you home.” 

Your brain has many things to say but you keep your mouth shut, you already messed up enough tonight and you’re not sure you can live tomorrow with the consequences of these minor errors already, so adding more to the list wouldn’t be a wise thing. 

When you arrive home you don’t move. You should jump off the car to slump in your bed not even changing yourself — once again going against one of the thousands of rules you have in order to survive in the insanity of your sanity. But you don’t want to leave his side. You like being around Haechan, even when you don’t talk, even right now that you feel on the verge of tears again and you can’t blame your hormones, while the music plays from the radio. 

And Haechan gets it. Your usual self? Out of the car in a second; the first times you two hung out you barely gave him time to stop before you were under the porch of the complex you lived in. He once again has no idea what’s going on inside you, but he knows he can’t leave you alone. He doesn’t care if you use toys, but for how shaken you look, he knows the only thing you’ll pick up will be the phone to call your ex, and he doesn’t want that. You don’t deserve to be hurt, and your ex doesn’t even deserve to hear your voice. 

“Wanna come to my place?” He asks, breaking the silence, staring at you while you’re lost with the gaze in front of you on the quite empty road of your house. “You have everything there anyway.”

You have everything there anyway. 

His toothbrush that became yours. 

His white t-shirt that became yours. 

A new set of towels he had bought just for you. 

His favourite mug that became yours. 

A warm bed. A pillow with a beating heart. And probably something else you’re not ready to face yet. 

“Yeah, let’s go home.” 

Haechan shouldn’t smile this big when those words leave your lips and you slump in your seat letting go of the tension, but he does. He knows you’re drunk, he knows you’ll go back to being your distant self in the morning, and probably he won’t even find you there when he wakes up, but he likes this new side of you so he wants to enjoy it while it lasts. 

Home. 

He loves the way it rolls from your lips and how that house feels like home when you’re inside. 

Apparently, your new plan is to give Haechan a heart attack, cause when he wakes up in the morning and, not only still finds you there, but finds you cuddled up on top of him, he feels like dying. He is not even sure you are you, maybe he’s making you up and all of this is a dream. 

Now that you are awake you feel the same. You are in his bed, wearing his shirt and pants, it’s nine in the morning, your clothes are not scattered on the floor and the sheets aren’t a mess. Why? You know why. Unfortunately, you weren’t drunk enough the night before to forget how embarrassing it had been, but you wish you could find another reason. 

“Oh, hi,” he cheers when you enter the kitchen after ten minutes of contemplating whether running away now was a good idea or if the more you acted weird, the worst it got. “Headache?” 

“No, luckily no,” you reply, running a hand on your face and sitting on a chair. “Why are you cooking, trying to blow us up?” 

“Oh, you’re back, I was starting to worry,” he laughs at your snarky remark, shaking his head. 

You don’t reply, only drop on your arms, resting your head on them against the table as you watch him move around. He might not be a good chef, but you love the way he moves, it’s like his body always makes sure to remind you of all the years he spent doing ballet, and even if he hates it now, you’re glad he did it.

He’s hot, even in the morning, even with his eyes still sleepy and hair a mess. But you feel like something of the crazy, pungent, chemistry that used to buzz between you stopped doing so. Or maybe this is a friend moment without the benefits? You can’t tell, and you just want to get back on the benefits again because the whole friends’ thing is turning romantic and you don’t like it. 

So, your feet move quickly, making you reach him in a second and wrap your arms around his body. 

“What are you—” 

“Shh,” you shush him, moving your hands lower on his abdomen. 

“Oh, sure, of course, you weren’t just hugging me, fuck,” he curses when you tease his inner thighs, never touching his sensitive part. There is a hint of sadness in his words but you pretend you don’t get it. 

“Want you, Hyuckie,” you pout against his ear, and you can feel him shiver in your hold. 

“Not now,” he murmurs, reaching for your hand to move it away. 

“Then when?” You ask, slipping your hand into the rubber band after you slapped his away. “You never fucked me in the morning, you know?” 

Haechan gulps and turns off the stove, hands losing their grip on everything they touch while your hands kept teasing him more and more. 

“When we had all, mhh, day to ourselves,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes as he tries to don’t give in to you. 

“Fucked me in the evening, at night, and in the afternoon.” 

“You slept till noon of course I couldn’t fuck you in your sleep.” 

“Well, couldn’t or wouldn’t, you still didn’t, and I need you to do it now.” 

Haechan’s breath falters when your fingers wrap around his dick and start moving to get him hard, head reclined low as he tries to hold in the moans you’re dragging out of him. 

“Can you get hard for me?” You whisper teasingly and Haechan groans, glaring at you. 

“Now you think I can’t get hard?” 

You chuckle at his voice and also because you can feel his cock hardening in your hand with each stroke on it. 

“Good,” you hum, starting to kiss his neck and when his head rolls back and he searches for your lips on his, you pull away. 

“Oh, cool, went back to phase one?” He says and you can hear the bit of anger in his voice even if he’s trying to hide it. 

You don’t know what to reply, you can turn it into something sexual, so he won’t get mad and keep this thing going. You don’t even know why you pulled away. Well, yes, you do, but why are you so afraid all of a sudden? 

“Fuck me first and then maybe later you’ll get a kiss.” This will do, coming out sultrily it only sounds like dirty talk and hides your insecurities. “You left me hanging for too long to get what you want so easily.” 

And Haechan falls for it, groaning again and leaning back on your shoulder while his eyes are shut and from his lips start to come out more moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he whimpers, fucking back into your hands. 

You smirk, finding yourself staring at his blissed face a bit too long, but he looks just so beautiful like this, with his long lashes resting on his full soft cheeks, and his plump lips parted to let out soft, raspy whimpers. 

“Wanna come?” 

“In — fuck — in your mouth, please. Use your mouth.”

Your hands leave his dick, and you take two steps back.

“Turn around and take your pants off,” you order and stare at him following your instructions in the blink of an eye. When he’s done, you get on your knees and don’t waste time taking his hard cock in your mouth. 

“Shit,” Haechan groans, throwing his head back and wrapping his hands in your hair, he doesn’t force your face down, leaving total control in your hands, he simply likes to hold on to you somehow. 

You go for a steady rhythm, not fast but not slow to tease him and waste more time. You’re dripping and you need him inside you soon. And for your luck, it doesn’t take him long to come. After all, you know him and what drives him crazy. So one of your hands fondles his balls while the other wraps around his base, and start working on him while your tongue and cheeks focus on his tip. You also know that he loves hearing you moan around him, and watching your eyelid flatter as you stare up at him, and he never told you but when tears start spilling out of the corner of your eyes, his cock throbs harder. 

“Mhh, fuck, fuck,” he rasps out, followed by chants of your name as his knees wobble and his hips buck up while he comes in your mouth. His eyes roll back when you pull away with a pop sound and then swallow everything without breaking eye contact. “You drive me insane,” he mutters, running his fingers through his hair, breathing deeply.   

“Fuck me,” you urge, standing up again, his words flying over your head. “Please.”

Haechan nods, shaking his head to try to shake the post-orgasm haze out of his mind. “Come here,” he hums, pulling you closer, moving his hands on your body to undress you of the pants and underwear before lifting you on the countertop. 

But that’s not what you want. 

“No,” you huff, squirming in his hold. “From behind, please.” 

That’s not what Haechan wants, when you fuck in that position is because you want it particularly hard and that’s not what he wants to give to you, not now. He’s still trapped in that sense of what was different from the night before and he’s not ready to bear with your shift to your old self again. But when he looks into your eyes, he realizes that spell is already far gone, no more tenderness or heartfelt conversation, just sex and greed. 

But you are still there, and it never happened before, and this is better than nothing, so he gives you what you want. 

“Bend over,” he says, helping you off the kitchen and waiting for you to get in position. He would find the view hot, incredibly hot, your ass pushing back up into him, your wet folds pressing against the tip of his cock, your hips swinging in desperation, and it is hot, but he can’t enjoy it fully; if it only wasn’t for that small twinge of pain in his heart. 

“Please, fuck me,” you beg again when he doesn’t push in right away, too lost at staring blankly at your back.

“Are you in a rush? Somewhere to be better than here?” He bites back, it’s a bitter tease, not a sensual one, and his voice trembles, and so do his hands on your hips. 

“I need you, please,” you grunt, throwing your head down, “please.” 

Haechan swallows the gulp in his throat and pushes into you. He’s always delicate when he thrusts in the first time, he knows you’re wet and ready to take him but he’s always careful and you wish you didn’t find it so attractive, but you do. Nobody ever cared for you that much during sex, well, nobody ever cares for you that much in general. 

And when he starts moving in and out of you, your heart loses another beat. He fills you up so nicely, you hate to compliment every part of him but fuck, he’s perfect, he fits perfectly and you feel him everywhere, it’s like he was made just for you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you clench down on him. “Want it harder, babe?” 

“Yes, please.” 

His hips start snapping against you in a fast rhythm, causing your bones to hit the hard surface of the countertop, but you don’t care, you even find the slight pain more exciting. 

Haechan’s groans fill your ears, as the grip of his hands on you gets incredibly tighter. It’s rough like you asked but not how you’re used to. You don’t dare to turn your neck to get a peek at him but you know his brows are knitted and his eyes are dark. This doesn’t feel like fun like your usual hard fucks, it’s like a sense of sadness and bitterness is running between you and it makes your heart sting. 

“Haechan,” you call out his name, and only for a second his grip softens, but you don’t continue, you don’t even know what you want, or if you want something. 

“What?” He growls in response, hips slamming harshly against your ass. “Is this still not enough? Am I still not enough? Will I ever be enough for you?” 

Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel a tear streak down your eyes and you shake your head swiftly, trying to hold onto something. “No, it is,” you breathe out. “You are, fuck, you are enough,” you cry, hissing when he slaps your ass. 

“Yeah? Then what do you want? What do I have to do to make you happy?”

“Kiss me,” you mumble, pushing your head back, trying to reach for his lips. “Ple-please, want you — umh — you all over me.”

And when he leans in, kissing you with eagerness, it’s like the gloomy cloud that was shadowing over you dissolves in the air, his grip turns delicate, and his face relaxes, while his hips slow down until they come to a stop. Haechan doesn’t pull away and you don’t care you’re almost struggling for air, feeling breathless, gasping against his lips makes you feel alive more than ever. 

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away with a gasp. He stares at your face for a moment, watching a tear roll down your cheeks, and he’s tempted to wipe it away with a gentle touch of his fingers, but he doesn’t give in to temptation. If you weren’t in yourself the night before, he’s not in himself right now, and he feels that he might want to see you cry, cry for him. 

Another guttural sound rolls from his lips when he drifts his gaze away and pushes you flat on the countertop with force, picking up the same rhythm as before, snapping against you so fast that your heart starts racing faster in your chest that’s raising up and down in a frenetic rhythm. 

“Too — too much,” you whimper, letting your shoulder relax when you fear you won’t be able to keep your body up much more. 

Haechan snickers, moving a hand down to knead the flesh of your ass harshly as he leans closer to you. “Really? Thought you asked me to fuck you like this.” 

You nod weakly, muscles of your neck sore, and you close your eyes because you feel more tears threatening to spill out, it’s a mix of physical pleasure and mental — emotional — pain you can’t deal with. 

“I would’ve fucked you differently,” he almost growls next to your ears, and you know he’s mad. “Nice and slow, probably would’ve even eaten you out but you asked for this and I’m giving you this,” his voice almost breaks and his hips falter, his heart is beating so loud in his ribcage you can feel it against your back. “Want me to stop?” And here he is, as always, no matter the pain you put him through by playing a game of hide and seek inside your true self where he can’t grasp anything real, his voice still turns soft, weak, almost shy, as he makes sure this truly is not getting too much for you. Because you hit left and right with your sword and your blinded eyes but he won’t ever hurt you even if he’s clearly the one bleeding. 

“No,” you sniffle, opening your eyes to try to glimpse at his, but the position doesn’t offer you a great view. “Want you, please. I — I need you, Hyuck, so much.” 

He nods quickly and then starts thrusting into you, this time he won’t stop until you come, but he pushes your body up against his because he needs you. He needs your scent to be all over his skin, he needs to remind himself you’re not a dream even if you continuously slip from his fingers, he needs to remind you and himself that he’s the only one that has you like this. He is the best you ever had and that’s a little consolation.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he whimpers, forehead frowning while sweat starts pearling his skin as he looks at your ass bouncing on him. “Gonna come?” 

“Ye-yes, please,” you beg, and you don’t even know why. You don’t have to ask for his permission to come but it’s like you want him to end this moment. 

“Hold on just a bit more, I’m close,” he replies, “want to come with you.” 

You nod mindlessly, letting out louder and whinier moans while your hands desperately search for some kind of contact and your legs shake as your orgasm builds up with more violence inside you. 

“Be a good girl and come with me,” he orders and you feel one of his hands reach in front of your body until it finds your clit. He groans loudly when your pussy clenches hard around him and your body tenses up while your orgasm washes over, leaving you with your mouth parted but too breathless to let out sounds. Haechan’s not silent, he curses your name and some swear words while his hips keep ramming into you as he pumps his cum in and out of your hole. 

“Shit,” he comments, pulling out of you sooner than you wish he would, leaving you empty and cold. 

You think he’s behind you, but when you turn around struggling, you see he’s not in the kitchen anymore and you collapse on the floor, legs too weak and trembling to hold you and your heavy heart up. 

You’re not sure how many minutes pass while you sit naked on the floor of his kitchen with your hands in your hair wondering where did you go wrong. You just know it feels like an eternity and when you hear footsteps approach, you quickly jump on your feet to cover up and don’t let him find you like that.  

Once you pulled back up your clothes, and he’s back in the room, you don’t know what to say, and you don’t even feel like staring at him. 

“You can…” he starts but then stops and when your eyes lift from the ground, you see he’s turned around, turning on the stoves again. 

“I can?” 

“Nothing,” he mutters. “You know where everything in this house is. Do whatever you want.” 

“Are you — are you mad?” You chuckle nervously, shaky fingers fixing your hair behind your ears. 

He shrugs, shaking his head, “I’m not, I just know you won’t do what I propose, so if you want to eat, take a shower and grab some new clothes, do it. But if you want to leave, it’s fine, too.” 

You bite your lips; you know your typical answer would be easy: leave. But right now, it feels like the wrong one. You can’t bet on it, but Haechan seems sad, even angry, and the cold wall between you and his back is making you feel guilty for something you don’t even know. You just proposed to fuck, it was normal in your relationship, so why was he mad and why were you sad? What happened in that fragment when your bodies were tangled in a mess bigger than what it looked like? 

“I’ll stay for a bit…” you whisper and when he turns around with wide eyes you add, “if it’s fine for you.” 

“Yeah, I told you, everything you decide it’s fine for me. Want breakfast?” 

“Yeah,” you say. 

“And maybe new clothes?” He smiles, tilting his head to the side, warm dispersing on his face again.

“Your closet?” 

“My closet.” 

The names you start slurring in bed don’t belong to Haechan. Honestly, you haven’t seen Haechan in over two weeks now. That morning you needed him to prove you something, only to be proven the complete opposite. Things with him weren’t going where you planned them to go in the first place. 

And the best solution would be to talk about it, set some boundaries again, or put an end to things like adults, but, even if the years pass by, you feel like you only keep getting older but not wiser. 

You think you are stupid and childish, and you hate yourself. 

But you still don’t pick the best solutions. Actually, you don’t pick solutions at all, you just fuck things up because you’re not used to them going right. 

You ghosted him. Left his place after breakfast with a promise to text him in the week just to never pick up the phone to go to his contact again. You even have to avoid Johnny and your friend’s nights out because you can’t face him. 

You feel like you cheated on him. No, there wasn’t written or slurred speech anywhere that you two were exclusive but you two were exclusive. Haechan never fucked someone else behind your back, and he also most of the times implied he didn’t because, since you two did it raw, he wanted to make sure he was only active with you. 

And you… you crossed a line you shouldn’t have crossed. 

You went back to your ex and met up with two people you met at a club, when, too heartbroken, you needed someone to fill the void inside of you, only for things to get worst and leave you heartbroken, full of guilt and unsatisfied. 

You should pick up your phone, call him over and explain, you’re still in time to fix this in a way he won’t hate you forever, but you don’t. 

You go to work, come back home, slump on the couch with food and movies, or stay out running until you can barely feel your legs, stand under the shower as if the bill won’t crash you at the end of the month and then go to sleep, or try to, while you fight with your brain and heart and the emotions none of the three of you knows how to cope with, just to do it all over again the next day. 

It’s an endless routine where you try to push him out, but it doesn’t seem to work. 

It had always been easy to delete people from your life like this. One cut, one push out of your protected zone, and they were long forgotten. 

So why is it so hard with him? 

But you still don’t pick up that damn phone, not even when a month passes by and Haechan reaches for you, apologizing. 

[Monday]

pathetic loser hey, it’s been a while i just wanted to check if everything’s alright 

[Wednesday]

pathetic loser will you be there at johnny’s dinner at his place? 

maybe we can talk there? 

[Friday]

pathetic loser   i didn’t ask johnny but i guess you won’t be there so i just hope you’re okay 

You don’t reply, only stare at those texts trying to force yourself to grab the phone and call him because he deserves that more than a dry reply in a text. But you don’t know what to say, and you’d probably hope he won’t answer the call, so you’ll have an excuse to say you’ve tried but he didn’t reply. And when you try to come up with something that can explain to him this whole situation and at the same time don’t tear you apart, another week passes by. 

[Thursday] 

pathetic loser i won’t bother you again i promise 

i just wanted to apologize if i did something that made you uncomfortable that night/morning 

i don’t know what it is but it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me, after all you don’t owe me anything 

it was just sex anyway so it’s fine 

i will stop hanging around with johnny when i know he plans with all of us so you don’t have to avoid him too 

he misses you, please don’t let some sex come between your friendship 

anyway back to us, i know i sound like a loser but i had fun and i hope you don’t regret this totally, sorry if i messed something up i didn’t do it on purpose 

i’ve written too much so yeah hope you’re fine, have a great life (you can block me if you want to, if you didn’t already) 

You don’t reply even this time, but you cry and sob into your pillow, covered by your sheets as the phone glows in the dark. And you cry and cry until you feel like you can’t breathe and the weight on your chest gets heavier and pushes you down into your misery. 

It was supposed to be just silly, superficial, and fun sex, how did it turn into this? 

Haechan didn’t mean to mess something up. 

But Haechan doesn’t know that the only thing he messed up with is your heart. 

It takes you a while, but you get over him and get back to your daily life, the real one. No more depressing couch-sitting-eating sessions or extremely exhausting workouts to burn your brain down, no more avoiding social life and crying yourself to sleep. 

Johnny didn’t understand what happened, he felt like there was something going on between you and Haechan, but you never told him anything and you wouldn’t keep that a secret to yourself, right? Not from him at least. But even if he didn’t know the reasoning he gently, and friendly, dragged you out of the house without asking many questions, he just wanted you back. 

And you were back, a bit less chatty and loud, with a lightly dimmed glow in your eyes, and with a tongue that stopped flirting with every breathing being, but you were there. 

Haechan had disappeared, he was true to his promise, and you never saw him in the mixed-groups group hangouts, so moving on from him had been easier. 

You don’t hear his laugh anymore, you don’t laugh at his jokes, you can’t feel his hand secretly and gently rest on your thighs under the table, he can’t rest his head on your shoulder when the alcohol kicks in and he is too wasted, you don’t have someone to dance with or run away back home when your social battery dies. 

You don’t have him. 

And it sucks. 

But you try not to show it. You are trying to move on, and even if you hate how tortuous it feels this time and how you still look for his dumb-looking, slap-attracting, handsome, kissable face, you are trying. 

You are also failing. 

When the seventh drink of the night reaches your stomach, you’re not even sure you’d be able to answer if someone asked what’s your name. And you hate that a name is still loud and clear, ringing in your mind like a permanent reminder that maybe, just maybe, you are not getting over him. 

So, you drag your legs up and feel your head turn, everything is spinning but you need to find someone that will drown him out. You can’t keep going on like this. 

“Hi,” you mumble when you reach the bar and sit clumsily on the stool. 

“Oh, hi, babe. Look what we have here,” the man replies, studying you. 

“Wanna fuck?” 

“Oh, you go straight to the point, and I wouldn’t say no if only you didn’t look completely out of yourself.”

“I’m not,” you reply, shaking your head — terrible idea, everything spins faster, and you have to squeeze your eyes to find balance again. “I just had a few drinks.” 

“A few?” 

“Yeah. I can take you home,” you wink, caressing his arm with two fingers and the stranger chuckles before shaking his head.  

“I think we need to find somebody that knows you to take you home. Are you alone?” 

You shake your head. “You could take me home. I’m good, I give amaaazing blowjobs.”

“I don’t want to doubt your abilities, but you’re drunk,” he says, starting to look around, hoping to be lucky enough to make eye contact with someone you may know. 

“Come on, I need this. Is it because you think you can’t take me?” You still insist, pressing your finger on his chest in an accusative tone. 

He snorts, “I can take you, but sober. Hey,” he calls someone, waving his hand and at the same time trying to keep your body up with his other one. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Johnny’s voice is clear and too loud, especially when he groans your name angrily after you try to avoid him. 

“Do you know him?” 

“He’s my bestie,” you say, rolling your eyes. “My bad, bad bestie. He made me meet someone that broke my heart, don’t let me go with him, pleaseee.”

“Man, she needs aspirin and a bed.” 

Johnny nods, grabbing your arm and pulling you from the sit, “Yeah, I can see. Thank you for not taking advance of her.” 

“Should be the norm,” he smiles. “Take care. And maybe talk with whoever broke your heart.” 

“No,” you reply angrily, crossing your arms on your chest. “I’m mad at you,” you say to Johnny, trying to walk away from him but you need his support to don’t wiggle around like jelly. “You first say I need some fun and then the fun breaks my heart and now the fun at the bar is not okay because I’m not sober to you and him and why I can’t have nice things?” 

Johnny stares at you as if you’re crazy; he had seen you drunk but never like this, so miserable, and the fact he has not even a faint idea of how and why you are like this, doesn’t sit right with him. “Why don’t we sit in a corner and talk?” 

“I don’t want to. I want Haechan,” you slur out, collapsing on the sit and resting your head on his chest, but the music is loud and Johnny’s not sure he heard right. 

“You want who?” 

“Haehan,” you mumble against his shirt. 

“Okay, I don’t know who or what you want but we need to go home, come on. Please, drag your feet to the car, I’ll carry you inside your place but please, let’s just make it to the car.”

Johnny has to carry you to the car in his arms because you are a boneless mess and he doesn’t want to end the night at the hospital because you broke your ankles on those damn heels; mental reminder to gift you heels you can easily walk on even when you have more alcohol than blood running in your veins. 

The drive back home is a blur in your brain, you’re sure you’re not sleeping, but your head is spinning and at some point, you start shedding some tears and mumble chants of a name, Johnny supposes, but he can’t get it right. Your voice is low and groggy, and sobs come through every whimper that escapes your lips. 

“My place or yours?” He asks, hoping you can give him an answer, but you answer other doubts instead. 

“Hyuck,” you whisper, and Johnny finally has all the puzzle pieces to put together. 

When you wake up in the morning with a throbbing headache and your stomach turned upside down, the last thing you want to deal with is your best friends’ stares and glances he throws at you as if he knows something you don’t know he knows. 

You don’t ask him any questions right away, your brain is too far gone to deal with it, but after another aspirin and a coffee, you feel like you’re ready to face him. Except you’re not quite ready for what’s to come. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, rubbing your temples while you rest your elbows on his kitchen table. 

“Haechan,” he replies with a smirk on his face as if he finally got you right where he wanted you, cornered. And well, you feel like you are, and maybe you should’ve waited a bit longer cause your acting skills are not at their best right now, but you take another sip from your cup, shrug, and then reply nonchalantly. 

“What about him?”

Johnny’s eyes roll back as he huffs loudly. “Do we really have to do this?”

“Do what? You bring him up out of nowhere,” you say, but the calmness of your voice is being betrayed by the nervous bouncing of your leg and Johnny gets it immediately, and that’s when he shoots his arrow. 

“You love him.” 

“What?” You almost spit the coffee out while you stare at your best friend with wide eyes, hoping to see a reaction, hoping that this disgusted him to the point he will get up and focus on cleaning the table and insult you instead of twisting the knife in the wound that’s called ‘me and Haechan.’ But he’s impassive, and it’s written all over his face that he’s not buying it, or anyway, he wants to dig deep into all the secrets you kept from him. 

“You love him,” he repeats, and those words coming out so slowly from his mouth make shivers run down your spine. 

“I don’t,” you reply sternly, getting up to clean the spilled coffee and keep yourself busy.  

“You do. You slurred his name all the way back home and I thought I was crazy until you said Hyuck and hell no, that’s him.” Johnny reaches you and now you also feel physically cornered by his big body — why the hell is he so big? — and physically disgusted because you did what? And why couldn’t he leave you in somebody else home? Slurring his name to a stranger wouldn’t have been as embarrassing as what you did. 

“So? Are you going to answer? Or keep denying?” He presses you again, and before he can scold you as he usually does with an annoyed call of your name in a stern tone, you snap. 

“We used to fuck, okay?”

“You did what?” Johnny almost screams at your face, and you push him back to walk to the living room. 

“Don’t be surprised, you literally set us up.” 

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me? What happened to our friendship and our rules.” Johnny’s voice cracks as he tries to accept that you, his best friend, sister of another mother, and partner in crimes, really kept all of this behind him.  

“Oh, screw rules, all those fucking rules I never know how to respect,” you huff, falling on the couch and holding your head in your hands. And Johnny has to rub his temples because all of this is insane and surreal to his ears.  

“You don’t know how to respect them? You. Miss little rules?”

“Shut up.” 

“Wait… your rules about sex? Are you talking about all that crap you believe won’t make you catch feelings?” 

“It never made me catch feelings. It always worked. Clear boundaries, good sex, and everybody on their way.” 

Johnny smirks, kneeling in front of you so you can’t avoid his gaze anymore. “You broke them.” 

“I didn’t,” you mutter, and you want to slap his face because why is he having so much fun seeing your breakdown?

“You did. You just told me; you got mad when I mentioned them, and you wouldn’t get mad unless something didn’t go as you planned.” 

“Nothing happened,” you retort, leg bouncing progressively faster as you feel your heart race and your body burn.  

“No, you broke them.”

“I didn’t.” 

“You fell in love with him.” 

“Don’t,” you stop him with a glare that doesn’t scare away the smirk on his face. Instead, the look in your eyes, the way your lips are twitching, and your continuous nervous movements are everything Johnny needs to let him know he’s right. 

“You fell in love with Haechan.” 

You almost scream when those words roll from his lips, you hate hearing that thought, that fear that has been lingering in your brain every night for a month now. “Shut up, don’t make things up. I broke the rules of not telling you we fucked.” 

“Oh, no, girl, I know you. You’re fidgeting with your fingers, and your voice is shaking, you’re straight-up lying and you can sell that bullshit to anybody else but not me, so spill the fuck you have to spill or else we’re going to have a long day.” 

“There’s nothing to know. We started fucking, and then stopped, but I’m in my unlucky month and I don’t find anybody that’s good enough to satisfy me. And that’s why I’m breaking rules, I like to have fun, but I don’t like to try so many people and fuck with every person I see, you know I hate it.” 

“Then why are you doing it? Your toys are not enough anymore?” 

“Yeah, I’ll stick to them,” you cut it short, trying to avoid his eyes because you know you will fall. Johnny has this power of dragging things out of your mouth, you’re lucky he didn’t get the tiniest hint of what was going on between you and Haechan or he would’ve made you face some painful truths a long time ago. 

“If it was so good, why did you stop?” 

You shrug. Fuck. 

“That’s not an answer.” 

“I don’t know, he wanted to see new people and we just stopped.” 

“Really?” Johnny asks with a teasing edge to his voice, clearly mocking you. “He’s not seeing anybody.” 

“Maybe he didn’t tell you. You didn’t know about us, and we were both friends with you, so. Or maybe he didn’t find another one, just like me.” 

“He seems rather heartbroken, and he asked a weird question about you.” 

Now it’s your time to be shocked. He asks about you? He doesn’t hate you after the way you treated him? You’re still in his mind? No, why would any of this matter? Why do you care? It doesn’t matter. “What?” Well, it shouldn’t matter. 

“If everything was alright or if something happened to you.” 

“Just checking on people is normal.” You shake it off with a nod and raise of shoulders, but something inside you is burning. It’s that flame you think you put out and yet found a way to spark up every time you don’t think about it. 

“Not asking if something happened,” he says before walking around and studying you. You are avoiding his gaze and are a raging ball of nervousness, you weren’t even like this with your ex-boyfriend, let alone with your few hook-ups. And then something else clicks in his brain. “Did you cut him off without a word?” And when you don’t answer, and he calls out your name with urgency, you can’t lie anymore. 

“Maybe,” you reply with a loud groan, your head falling backwards with force, hitting the backrest so hard you hurt yourself even if there’s the cushion dividing you from the hard surface. “Maybe I did.”  

“Why?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” He shouts, throwing his hands over his head.

“Johnny, please, I don’t need a lecture right now, okay? I know I was rude, and an asshole.” 

“No, you’re in love, it’s different.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Why are you lying? You never called your ex-boyfriend’s name while you were wasted, you never broke any of your rules for him, it took you nothing to move on, and the only reason you got back was because you wanted revenge and because you needed to fill your life with something. You never cared for him nearly as half of what you care for Haechan, so why lie, and why lie to me?” 

“I don’t want to,” you sniffle, suddenly feeling your brain spin again while your nails sink into the fabric of the pants Johnny gave you.

“Talk to me?” 

“No, to love him.” 

There it is; the loud confession. That confession you didn’t even do to yourself alone in the darkness of your room. It’s still bouncing against the walls of Johnny’s place in plain sight under the bright daylight and it pierces your ears and your heart. 

Fuck. You’re screwed. 

Your eyes lock with Johnny’s and your brain would like to lie and mumble some nonsense but your heart can’t keep bleeding without being taken care of anymore. So, hot salt starts streaming down your face silently and your head faces the ground while two strong arms wrap around you. 

You’re screwed. 

When you’ve cried all your tears in Johnny’s arms, and you feel like you can try to put it down to words you do it. Maybe with Johnny by your side, it will be easier. 

“I don’t know what the hell he did to me.” 

“That’s a nice start.” 

“I’m not saying I didn’t consider the possibility of this going down a different path and starting to allow feelings in but… like this? I’ve never felt like this before, not even when I fell first, and I’m not even sure I’ve ever loved somebody before if this is how it’s supposed to feel.” 

“Then why don’t just let yourself go for once? You don’t have to always have everything under control.” 

“But I’m scared. I hated seeing him with someone that wasn’t me. The mere idea of him being with somebody else now makes me sick. This is scary.” 

“Love can be scary at times, but that’s what it is.” 

You breathe in deeply and rub your temples. “But what if it’s wrong? What if… God, I’m doing all this and I’m not even sure he likes me back.” 

“Well, if it’s right, you know, right?” 

You shrug, you thought it was right so many times before, and then it never was but this felt different, everything about Haechan hits different, it truly was like an arrow straight to your heart purposefully made to hit you straight to the core and cut you deep. 

Johnny sighs, you already talked too much today and faced the truth, he knows he can’t push you any further. 

“I’m not saying you have to take him back but… sometimes you can take the good things life gives you without tearing them into pieces. It will tear you into pieces if you keep putting rules to things that are destined to flow freely.”

Going back to the coast feels like torture, especially when both you and Haechan forgot to ask Johnny if the other was there and found out only when you hopped out of the cars and locked eyes after months. 

No, you didn’t pick up the phone even after that conversation with Johnny. It felt humiliating to crawl back to him after so much time, so you decided that whatever was going on, was destined to die. 

But when your eyes jump into his again, and cheesily, it feels like the time had stopped, you’re not so sure whatever was, or is, going on, is destined to die.

It’s awkward when you don’t know if you should greet him or not, but luckily in the mess of everyone greeting each other, you lose him in the ‘crowd’ of friends. Fortunately, most of them found somebody to bring along so there are double of people than the last time. Unfortunately, that leads you and Haechan to the same room of this summer. Of course, nobody knows, and you’re not quick enough to retort when Mark decides like this after sorting everybody else in other rooms, and Johnny’s not there to save your ass — probably he wouldn’t. 

The tension can be cut with a knife and you feel like your head is exploding while you two make your way to the room and then start to put your things in place. 

“I can sleep on the couch,” Haechan says, breaking the suffocating silence. 

“No, it’s fine,” you almost choke on your words, unprepared, non-expecting he would talk to you first, “we did worse things together,” you chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood but you only get a forced snicker back before he turns around and gives you his back again. You know that wasn’t the smartest answer you could give, but you don’t know how to ease the tension and the heavy weight of guilt in the pit of your stomach. 

You want to talk, that should be the right moment to do it, to apologize, at least. But you’re tongue-tied. 

“Is there even something to do here during winter?” He speaks, still giving you his back, and it takes you a while to understand he’s addressing you. 

“Uhm, yes,” you reply. “The city is nice, and there are mountains just forty minutes away from here so… usually with our families we used to ski.” 

“Great,” Haechan hums, standing up, brushing his hands on his pants to flatten the creases of the fabric, “never done it before. Guess I’ll take a look around town. Last time I didn’t get to visit it,” he smiles before walking out and you feel the ground collapse under your feet. 

You won’t survive three days like this. 

You hated spending time in that house during winter when you were a child, the sun didn’t shine bright enough, the sand was wet and sticky, and you didn’t know how to ski, also you never got why your family spent so much money on that sport when they clearly weren’t as rich as Johnny’s parents, and no one of you was good enough for it to even be fun. 

Now nothing changed, the cloudy weather over the sea is depressing, and watching your friends have fun is not making you feel any better, you still don’t know how to ski, and you have a lump in your throat as your brain runs faster than you, screaming how you put yourself in this situation. 

The tea in your hand is not hot enough, you wasted too much time stealing glimpses at Haechan and his new crush to drink it when Johnny served it to everybody after all of you came back from the — for you terrible — ski session this afternoon. You didn’t do anything but sit on a bench and hold back your tears while everybody else was having fun. You should’ve stayed at home, it would’ve been better than having to deal with Wonyoung — apparently, that was her name — laugh and giggle every time Haechan opened his mouth, or their intertwined hands while they both tried to learn how to use the ski. And now it’s not going better, she’s sitting on his lap while he caresses her hair with one hand and the other draws circles on her palm, and all your friends are sharing knowing glares as they point at them. 

You never had that with him, and the jealousy mixes with bitterness, until you realize that the arrangement you had didn’t include any of that. So why did you want it so much? Why do you want to be her so badly right now? 

You sigh, running a finger on the mug in front of you, staring at the brownish liquid as if by magic you’re going to see your future in it, but you think it’s better like this, you’re pretty sure the picture would be a tragedy anyway. 

When the talks get irritating, you decide to go back to your room, not even saying anything, you’re not sure about what they want to do, it was in the air to eat at a place downtown but you didn’t pay their talks much attention. You decide to go for a shower with the hope it will relax you and wash away some heaviness, but nothing much changes once you’re out and dressed up in clean clothes. It only gets worse when you open your room, and Haechan is there, laying on the bed with a hand behind his head and his phone in the other. 

You pass in front of him, not saying a word, silently putting back in your purse your shampoo and conditioner, and other things you carried with you. He doesn’t talk either. It has been like this the whole day, barely acknowledging each other and now it’s getting too heavy. You owe him an apology, not to make things get back in place, they never will, but because he didn’t deserve it. 

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you say, turning around, “I’m sorry I avoided you.” 

Haechan lifts his head, a small frown connecting his brows for a while, almost as if he’s trying to get what you’re referring to, and when he does, the muscles of his face relax. “It’s fine.” 

“No, it’s not. I didn’t want to… to leave you like this.” 

“It doesn’t matter, you had all the right to stop it,” he shrugs, looking down for a second, probably closing the app on his phone because you don’t hear the faint sound of the video playing anymore. “I don’t cry for sex.” 

You hum, but you study his face to understand if he’s serious. Was it just sex for him? Were you just sex for him? 

“I…” you stop and look away. Your leg is bouncing nervously and you’re playing with your fingers, pressing your nails into your skin. “I have to tell you something.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I lo—” 

“Haechannie!” Wonyoung’s voice rings loudly in the room, stopping you from going on. “We are taking a look around, want to come with me and keep me warm? Also, we’ll have dinner together.” You shouldn’t find the way she bats her eyes so irritating, neither her voice, or the way she’s looking at him right now, but you feel like puking, and you hope Haechan will decline; out of all the things he said before, you heard he was tired and wanted to go to bed, so he will say no, right? 

“Yeah, I’d love to. Be there in a minute.” 

“Ah! You’re the best, baby,” she cheers, running to leave a kiss on his cheeks and then walking out. 

“You were saying?” He asks, turning his attention on you, shaking his hair out of his forehead. 

You shake your head, gulping. “Nothing,” you smile, it’s forced and fake, and if he’d look closely, he’d see a tear at the corner of your eyes, but he doesn’t. He’s looking at you with his head slightly tilted in mild concern, but you know it’s just for niceties. 

“It seemed serious, though?” 

“It was just another apology you don’t want,” you breathe out in a bitter chuckle, rubbing your hands on your thighs while your gaze meets the floor. “I lost track of myself during the time we drifted apart, I’m sorry it… it fired back to you.” 

“Oh,” he says, “it’s fine, seriously. I just care that you’re fine. You are fine, right?” 

You hold back a sob and smile, feeling tears at the corner of your eyes. “Never been better.” 

“Good,” he smiles. “You coming?” 

“No, I’m tired, I’ll go to bed like a child that has school tomorrow at 8.” 

Haechan laughs and then grabs his jacket. “’Kay, don’t take all the bed. You still have that bad habit, don’t you?” 

You chuckle, giving him an apologetic look, “I have a bed too big for me only, I’m not used to sharing.” 

He nods and then opens the door. “Leave a small patch for me, and don’t have too much fun all alone,” he winks. 

You smile and then wave him goodbye. 

If crying yourself to sleep was fun, you were about to have the funniest night of your life.

“Been a while, isn’t it?” 

The last thing you expect to find in the morning is Haechan’s face looking down at you with a teasing smirk while you rest too close to his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, sitting up in the blink of an eye, trying to rub the sleep off your face and scoot away from him. 

Haechan scoffs under his breath, painting that bitterness with irony, “It’s nice to know you didn’t change.” 

You chuckle awkwardly and then jump off the bed. 

“No, definitely didn’t change,” he whispers when you run away from his fingers again. He wants to block you in, to stop you from slipping away, but if he couldn’t do it months ago, he doesn’t see how he can do it now. After all, you’ve never been his. This isn’t different from what you used to do in the morning, now he looks at you and can see that nothing changed. You’re up, putting your hair in a ponytail, rushing to the bathroom to wash up, and he knows you won’t even come back into the room, but run downstairs to have breakfast. 

You are long gone and he doesn’t even know how and why he lost you. Maybe it’s better like this, maybe all this silence coming from you can give him a reason to hate you and move on. 

But moving on from you seems something impossible to do. 

From that moment on, you two decide you can go back to at least be friends and hang out in the same group again. It’s not exactly like before, but it’s better than silence and distance. 

Or maybe not. 

You can’t stand that Haechan doesn’t sit next to you anymore, he’s always on the other side with Wonyoung, and you can’t bet on it, but you fear that his hand is now resting on her thigh and you hate it. 

You don’t show it, not with words, but your body is a neon sign flashing that you don’t want to be there, especially when everyone leaves to take on the dance floor and you’re left with your thoughts. 

“Why are you always alone?” Mark asks. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Minjeong, but I can still see you’re beautiful and hot, why are you the only single one?” 

“The only one?” That’s the only thing your brain registers, making you stare at him with eyes too wide to make it pass like a normal reaction. 

“Well, it seems that even Hyuck found someone that can stand his annoying ass,” he jokes, pointing at him and Wonyoung. 

“Oh, I didn’t get they were official,” you whisper, your lips quiver, making it look like a smile but it’s pure sadness. 

“So it seems, he’s quite private over this.” 

You hum and feel your heart break into million pieces again. It shouldn’t hit you so hard and leave you trembling, but it does. 

“What about you?” 

You shrug, rubbing your arms. “I’m the problem, that’s why I’m single.” 

Mark chuckles tenderly, sitting next to you. “So, you’re heartbroken.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Was it serious?” 

“It wasn’t even started.” 

“Oh, well, isn’t that better? Maybe it wasn’t even love,” he attempts to lift you up, trying to see it from another perspective. “A lot of times what we tend to consider love is not it. It’s just a lie, something else dressed up as a feeling that is not that deep.” 

Yeah, you wish it was it. 

“Yeah, surely,” you reply, by now there are no emotions in your voice. “I don’t care, I moved on. I just hate sitting here while looking miserable.” 

“Why don’t you go talk to someone? I think that girl at the bar is looking at you?” 

“Maybe,” you whisper, not even caring to follow his finger to see the girl that is, in fact, looking at you. “Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom before hitting on people I don’t know,” you joke, smiling at him and letting a laugh follow. 

Mark copies you before his hand touches your arm and pats it gently. “It will be fine.” 

You nod before pulling your lips into another forced smile. You hope so. 

You don’t walk toward the bar, your want to even find someone that can take you home is nowhere to be found, and you sit in a corner to stare at Haechan from afar. He can’t be in love with her, right? But then again, why shouldn’t he? 

That torture lasts for a while, and when you think you paid the price for your sin, you grab your things and exit. Sure, you intend to go inside again, Johnny dropped you there, but not now. You need to cool off, and shut your brain. You don’t know how, your method was Haechan but now he is the reason why your mind keeps running a thousand miles per hour. 

You’ll find a way, you always did. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” Haechan says, leaning next to you against the wall. 

A grin curls your lips, and you partly open your eyes to make sure he’s real and not made up by your mind. He is very much real, with his denim jacket that doesn’t keep him any warm and his — now black — hair falling on his face, while his eyes look at you with too much concern. “I tend to self-sabotage a lot,” you whisper, huffing out the air, “you should know it.” 

“Yeah, not like this.” 

“Hey, I was smoking it!” You scream when he slaps your hand, not hard to hurt you, but hard enough to make the cigarette fall to the ground. 

“Since when?” 

You roll your eyes, watching the cig on the floor becoming completely useless now that he’s stepping on it, and then you shrug, “I don’t smoke, some guy offered it to me, and I wanted to see if it has any kick.”

“Why?” 

“Why do you care? I’m not your problem.” Your eyes are not on him, staring straight into the night that falls upon the road in front of you, but you can feel his stare burning into your skin. Also, he’s close, and you’re not used to having him this close anymore. 

He snorts and you glare at him, but that doesn’t faze him. “You said you were doing fine; it doesn’t look like it.” 

“I’m just tired, I want to go home, that’s it.” 

“You barely talked, danced, or did anything the whole night,” he points out, rubbing his chin and raising a brow.

“Oh, so you don’t only have eyes for your girlfriend,” you spit out before you can realize it. 

“Girlfriend?” He tilts his head, and his lips twitch into a barely visible smirk.

“Yeah, the fake blonde.” 

Haechan laughs, “Jealous, babe?” 

“No. And don’t call me babe. I’m not your problem and I’m not your babe.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he says resolutely. 

“Oh, well, ‘cause she’s all over your dick so it looked like.” 

Another laugh rolls from his lips, this time louder and without a nervous grin hidden behind. “You are jealous.” 

“I’m not,” you retort, frowning.

“You were the one all over my dick, and you decided to stop that.” 

“I wasn’t like that. I was on your dick, having the best orgasms of my life, but I never humiliated myself in front of you doing silly voices, calling you Haechannieee, or touching you as if you were about to be kidnapped by the aliens and I wouldn’t have had the chance to see you ever again, or looked at you with those eyes that could — well, you get the picture.” 

“Oh, I do. You are so fucking jealous and it’s kinda turning me on, I have to admit,” he teases you with a smug smirk on his face.  

“Shut up, asshole,” you smack his arm. “Go back to her.” 

“Nah, the aliens are kidnapping me, I guess she’ll have to spend the rest of the night alone.” 

You glare at him, eyes dropping on your intertwined arms in disbelief when he links them and starts walking away from there. 

“Come on, I’m hungry,” he urges, pushing you with more force. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, gesturing nervously with your hands and looking back at the club that was disappearing behind you. 

“Taking you to our favourite hamburger place, I could eat you right now for how starved I am.” 

“I wouldn’t complain,” you wink shamelessly.   

“Not like that,” he says. “I’m not sure you deserve it after the way you behaved.” 

You huff but follow him, keeping up with his fast steps, until you reach his car and jump inside. It’s been a while since you’ve been there, and when you stop and think about what happened in the backseats your body heats up, but you try not to think about that, and instead turn on the heater and the music how you like. Haechan only laughs lowly, and you know he doesn’t mind, after all these months he knows you can pass as bossy sometimes, and like things in a certain way, so he lets you. 

“I told you I’m sorry and you said it was fine,” you retort, not letting his remark of before go unnoticed. 

“You just don’t read me, do you? Like, fuck, you are hard to read but I’m an open book and you truly think that shit didn’t hurt?” 

“I think it hurt you that’s why I felt like shit, and that’s why with each passing day I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. I get scared when things go well, and it’s not right, it’s not healthy, and I know I hurt you, but I’m sorry, I truly am. You can ask Johnny, he knows it.” 

“Yeah, I know he knows.” 

“You know he knows?” You scream. It is always Johnny’s fault.

“I know he knows,” he replies with too much calm for your liking. “He had to spill something when I thought you hated me, and I couldn’t sleep thinking about what I could’ve done wrong. He told me you didn’t hate me, that you are dumb and don’t know how to deal with anything in your life that doesn’t follow exactly the path you traced, and I thought ‘oh yeah, seems fitting of her, not surprised’ and moved on… well, tried to.” 

“Oh,” you gasp. 

“Oh?” He snorts, shaking his head. “All you can say?” 

“Do you want me to spend the whole ride saying I’m an asshole?” 

Haechan laughs, “It would be entertaining but I will save you from humiliation.” 

“Thanks,” you utter, looking out of the window and grinning. This is wild, all over the place, and smells like the calm before the storm, but you like it because you’re back with him by your side. 

When you arrive at what used to be your place, you sit at your table while he orders your usual. For him, a double cheeseburger and for you, the big fries’ portion with a sauce that only that place makes — that you would’ve shared with him but only if he begged well enough. 

“I missed this,” he whispers after a few minutes when you’re both halfway through your order.  

“The burger? Yeah, I missed this sauce, God, I will find someone that sells this.” 

“I missed this, dumbass,” he says, and you feel your heart in your throat when your eyes meet, and he has that glint that you love so much. It’s like a light shining through, and some softness that only shows up in certain moments, you still don’t know what causes it, but you love it.

“Oh, I… I missed this too,” you mumble, diverting the gaze and cleaning your mouth with the napkin to keep yourself busy.

“Wow, wow, wow, wait, you? Getting a tiny, little, small, fainty, invisible bit sentimental?” 

“Stupid! You make me look like a heartless bitch.” 

Haechan raises his brows and cocks his head to the side.

“Don’t look at me with that face. You know I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

“I broke my rules for you!” You confess in the heat of the moment, raising your voice, the last words coming out in a squeak. 

Oh, shit.

Haechan is confused and you don’t know how to save yourself. 

“Rules?” He asks with a frown as he stops midway with his hamburger in hand. 

“It’s nothing,” you shrug, grabbing the cola and bringing it to your lips.

He swallows, shaking his head to try to understand if he got it right. “You had rules?” 

“I didn’t.” You try to focus on the fries now, but even the window looks tempting, it’s near and you could easily escape from there and ghost him agai—

“So, maybe you are not a cold, heartless, emotionless, impenetrable, untouchable, person after all?” 

You sigh, rubbing your neck, and giving up the escape plan. Like the old times, you can give him what he wants without actually giving him what he wants, right? Just a small peek into yourself and then he’s out. “I let you sleep in my bed, only three people had the honour, Johnny, unfortunately my ex, and you.” 

Haechan’s lips curl up and his nose twitches. “You are the sweetest person for breaking your rule.” 

“That’s not a rule,” you lie but this time he falls for it.

“Then what were the rules?” 

“Just eat, and then let’s go home. You’re so curious for no reason.” 

“Yeah, you shared too much tonight, would never want to stress you,” he jokes before stealing one of your fries and send you a flying kiss. 

“Thanks for the food,” you say when you both reach the door of your apartment. He usually wouldn’t come out of the car to walk you to the door of the complex, and even less he would reach the apartment door. But you didn’t stop him when he followed you in the elevator, you didn’t even flinch, almost as if that was how it was supposed to be. 

“Nothing,” he smiles. “It was fun, talking and you know, just us, like the old times.” 

You chuckle tenderly, nodding while trying to find the courage to ask one more thing, “Want to come in?” 

“I don’t have a toothbrush at your place,” he laughs, reminding you that in the heat of the rush, you never went back to pick up all your things at his place. 

“I should have a new one in the cabinet.” 

Things go back to normal after that. You’re not sure it’s healthy, considering you didn’t confess your feelings, aren’t sure he feels the same, he had to be honest with Wonyoung without making any names because you two still want this to be private, and the only confrontations you had on your detachment were those two talks. But it’s fine. 

The good sex is back. Haechan is back. You are back. The tension in the air is gone and you can enjoy the nights out without Mark worrying about you looking more dead than alive. And Johnny thinks you finally let loose. 

But you didn’t. Some fears still linger inside of you and sometimes are stronger than others times. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, “do you really have to push me against the metal bar?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Haechan laughs, pulling away from the kiss. 

“Don’t laugh! This furniture is a menace to society, you need to find something else to put in your entrance,” you say, rubbing your back. 

“If you weren’t horny like a bunny and waited at least to the couch to jump on me, I wouldn’t push you against it,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and starting to walk into the leaving room. 

“I can’t stand you,” you whisper through the kiss, struggling to get him out of his clothes, but after a while, almost everything is scattered on the floor of his living room and you two are rushing to his bedroom. 

“Is it softer for my princess?” He teases when he pushes you down on the mattress and hovers over you. 

You roll your eyes but still hum. “I have the back of an 80-year-old, you need to respect that.” 

“Doesn’t look like it when I fuck you all night,” he laughs. 

“Should we test it?” You’re done playing around. After a dinner out, and an hour driving around town, because you wanted to see the city lights, you needed him. The flirts were unbearable and also it had been the longest week of your life. 

And Haechan doesn’t make you repeat it twice, his hands reach your panties and slip between your legs, meeting the wetness that’s collected there. He doesn’t even bother to pull your underwear down, he pushes two fingers into your welcoming warm entrance and starts pumping in and out right away. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, staring in awe between your legs, “you take me so fucking well. Missed my fingers? That’s why you sent those photos the other day, ‘cause yours aren’t enough anymore and you were hoping I would’ve rushed here to fuck you.” 

You curse, “Don’t act as if you didn’t start it.” 

He scoffs, “It was just a hand pic, needed to know your opinion about the new watch and rings.” 

“And the thighs picture?” You try to sound menacing, but his fingers are making your voice tremble, and picturing those images in your mind doesn’t help you either. 

“Liked the new grey shorts? They’re pretty, right?” 

“Fuck off, Haechan,” you gasp, and he laughs deeply. 

“It’s so easy to mess with you,” he coos, leaning in to leave a peck on your lips. “Was the jacking off video enough to make it up for the teasing?” 

“No,” you cry out. He couldn’t play with you like that, sending you a video of him fucking his fist while he moaned and whimpered. You had spent the past six days replaying it, waiting for this moment to come, and even if he was so hot even through the camera, you needed to feel him inside, outside, everywhere.  

“Is this enough?” 

“Yes,” you moan, opening your eyes to meet his. “Just — fuck — go faster, please.” 

His lips curl upward while his two fingers start moving at a faster speed, you almost come on the spot when he presses a hand on top of your stomach and moves his thumb in circles on your clit. Your whimpered ‘too much’ gets shut down when his lips fall on yours and start kissing you. You feel lightweight, entire body reacting to his touches and kisses, playing you like a violin. His mouth is delicate and addictive and you find yourself thinking nobody ever kissed you like that. You can’t put a name on whatever ‘that’ is, but you love it. 

“Why are you kissing me like that?” 

“Like what?” He whispers, huffing air against your wet lips and staring straight into your eyes. 

Like you mean it. 

“Nothing, just —” your lips meet his again while your fingers tangle in his hair and his free hand runs on your smaller back, pushing you flat against him. “Fuck.” You feel his digits deeper and your brain starts spinning faster while your boobs rise fast trapped in the lingerie that is still on your body. 

“Hyuck,” you cry out, reaching his wrist to slow his movement since you feel too sensitive. 

“I’m not stopping, babe. You’ve been thinking about this for days.” 

“I — I know but —”

He shushes you again with kisses while he moves your hips so he can hit exactly where he wants, making you scream out when his fingertips start slamming quickly against your sweet spot. You are breathless and you feel your stomach tighten while your legs spread to give him space to give you everything. 

“Come for me, come on,” he encourages, pressing delicate kisses on your rising chest and whispering praises. 

Your scream pierces the bedroom of his apartment when one twist of his wrist makes your high explode. Your nails dig deep into his arm in response as the sensations feel overwhelming when he doesn’t stop right away, making sure he’s getting every last drop out of you. 

“Hyu-hyuck, enough — enough, please,” you snarl, hips bucking up in erratic motions that make him smirk proudly. 

“I have a surprise for you,” he says before licking his fingers clean after he pulled out of you reluctantly. He loved making you come with his fingers only, watching them move past your pussy, while your cum coated them and dripped down his wrist and your ass, he loved how he could be all over you. 

You don’t reply but you feel it’s something to be afraid of since he’s looking at you with a devilish grin on his face. 

“Wanna see it?” He smirks, jumping off the bed and shoving his boxers down, finally giving you a sight of his hard throbbing dick. 

You hum lowly in reply, forcing your eyes up from between his thighs and following him with your gaze as he walks to the closet and roams through something before he comes back to you with one hand behind his back. 

“You’re scaring me,” you breathe out. 

“I’m sure you’ll love it.” 

Your mouth opens in surprise when he pulls out a small wand vibrator. It’s not the first time you use a toy, though you never had a vibrator of that kind, you’re just worried about what he wants to do with that. 

“You won’t edge me, right?” 

“Why not?” He asks, starting to jerk his hard cock, collecting pre-cum and making it fall on your lower stomach. “You look so pretty when no coherent words come out of your mouth and your eyes are empty… well, filled with lust and me, but empty of anything else.” 

You groan, about to lift your torso but he pushes you back right away. “Don’t move,” he orders sternly, caressing your inner thigh as he slowly drags your panties down, leaving you bare, and then pulls you closer. His cock brushes over your pussy, but that’s not where you need him. 

Haechan laughs, seeing the desperation in your eyes, finding it funny you’re truly thinking he won’t fuck you. “Honey, I need this pussy just as much as you need my cock, I won’t disappoint you,” he groans and then drives his hips back to align himself to your gaping entrance. 

“Why do you always make me wait,” you cry out. 

“Because it wouldn’t be funny otherwise,” he clicks his tongue, wrapping a hand on the base of his dick and then smearing your wetness everywhere on your pussy, but he doesn’t slip in. “Should we try this new toy before?” 

You huff loudly, rolling your head back and the laugh that resonates through his ribcage makes you want to slap him but you’re left breathless once again when the vibrator starts buzzing right against your clit. 

“Shit,” you curse, fingers gripping the sheets tightly and toes curling. “Haechan.” 

“Yeah, that’s my name,” he taunts, playing with the different speeds and you know that’s not the first time he had the toy in hand, he doesn’t need to try it, he just wants to drive you insane, keeping you on the edge as the rhythm keeps changing and the fat tip of his cock is still pressing halfway into your cunt. 

“Please,” you beg, opening your closed eyes and struggling to even breathe out that single word as he keeps messing with you. 

“Please, what?” He leans down, he’s so close your noses almost touch and his breath hits your lips. “Use your words, babe.” 

You inhale deeply, breathe breaking in the middle when he goes back to the higher frequency and you come on the spot, stilling as the rushes of pleasure invade your body and put a proud smirk on his face. 

“Was that what you wanted?” He questions, kindly lowering the vibrations and pushing just a bit more of his tip into you. 

“No,” you cry out, “want you.” 

He quirks a brow, caressing your cheeks gently and kissing your lips. “Will you ask nicely?” He says, but when you only part your lips to let out sinful sounds and barely shake your head, he snaps. “I’m sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear,” he fakes a sweet tone before he growls and slaps your clit, “ask nicely.” 

You gasp, feeling sparks rush through you when the spank hits. “Please, Haechan, please fuck me. I — I need you to fuck me. I’ve been — shit — thinking about you all week, wanted to — to feel your body and — nggh — your touch, please.” You feel on the verge of tears as the vibrator keeps going on your clit and the man between your legs is barely inside you. 

But maybe that’s enough for him, maybe you did great and he will give you what you want. 

“How much do you need me?” 

Or maybe not. 

“So much, so, so, so much. I dreamed of you, day and night, mhh,” you swallow a moan, fighting against another orgasm. “Fuck me ‘til I forget my name, please?” 

Haechan moans, bottoming into you in a second, finally giving you what you deserve.

“Oh, God,” you gasp out when he fills you up, feeling overflowing with emotions. “Please, fuck me,” you don’t waste time begging again. You need him to move, to send you into the spiral of emptiness and fullness only he can push you into. 

“I leave you starving for a week or less and you go completely crazy,” he mocks, picking up the rhythm he knows you love while he keeps the toy in place. “My greedy baby, aren’t you?” 

You’re deep down that spiral because that sweet, condescending tone and the possessive pronoun don’t make you mad but instead, they make your heart jump to your throat and your heat clench around him. 

He smirks when you don’t reply and angles your hips better so he can reach where he has you trembling. 

“You’re making a mess, fuck,” he groans, drifting his gaze from your face to look between your legs. “You love this toy. Picked a nice gift, haven’t I?” 

The teasing, bragging tone of his voice would make you talk back to him but you can’t say much. The intermitted buzzing of the toy and the never-ending pounding of his dick are driving you wild. Your head is rolled back and you don’t even care to shut down your moans, fuck the neighbours, after you two heard them fuck for three hours straight last week this was fair payback. 

“Hyuck,” you cry louder when he changes the rhythm again and this time the vibration builds up slowly before crashing down, kinda like waves. “You’ll — fuck — too good.”

“I’ll what, babe?” He grins. “Make you come again? Drive you insane?” 

You nod, jaw slack because you feel like you can’t breathe in enough air. And when the nth orgasm breaks through, tears erupt down your face. Haechan’s gentle enough to pull the toy away, probably not cause it’s a genuine move of heart but only because he’s too lost in your blissed face. 

“Fuck,” he curses, shakily moving his fingers to caress your wet cheeks. The last time he saw you cry wasn’t a great view, and it was because of an asshole, but this time he is the reason for those tears, and they look so beautiful on your pretty, overwhelmed face. He thinks he loves when you get so vulnerable with him, he doesn’t even care that you only get like this during sex, he still has that power over you, and knowing you, this is already the biggest sign of trust you can gift him. “You’re so pretty, you know?” 

A dumb smile paints on your face as your hands reach for him to pull him closer. You feel like your brain is melting and your bones are ashes but you want to feel that skin-on-skin contact more. You want him all over you, deeper into you, seeping into the smallest creases of you so that you can’t wash him away for days. 

Haechan moans your name in a heated kiss when you clench around him. “Taking me so fucking well, that’s my good girl,” he praises, pushing back again on your lips. “My good girl.” 

“Yours,” you whimper through moans and sobs. 

“Yeah, mine,” he whispers back, changing the angle of his thrust so he can hit your sweet spot better and exactly how you like. But right now is just too much for you, between your clit being endlessly stimulated, his cock hitting deep into you and his lips and hands on your body, you’re sure you can’t drag this longer. 

“Don’t you fucking dare pull away, hands off,” he scolds, swatting your hand away when you try to get between him and the vibrator. 

“It’s too much,” you whimper, “I can’t anymore.” 

“Yes, you can, babe. Just one more,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you softly to calm you down. “Can you take one more for me?” He still checks, slowing his movements and slowing down the speed of the wand. 

You hum, breathing out a choked positive answer and he smiles happily, picking up his ministrations inside of you and on your lips. “Good girl,” he praises, “taking it all, taking me so well. I —” he stops, panic flicking behind his eyes but yours are closed and you’re too lost to feel the same rush of fear into you. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Your heart jumps in your chest, and you feel like you could melt. Praises have never done anything to you until they started coming out of his mouth. They didn’t feel like a mock anymore, or like a nicety said just to be cliché and repeat some erotica-porn-type catchphrase. You know he means it. 

Your eyes snap open when he starts fucking you faster, turning the vibration at that high setting and never changing it until you would’ve been done. Curse spill from your lips, but Haechan catches them all inside his mouth. He doesn’t do it to keep you silent, Mark’s not home anyway, he does it for another reason. Almost as if he’s addicted to your lips, or you. 

“Hyuck,” you breathe out. 

“I know, baby. I know,” he coos before sticking his face in the crook of your neck to smear wet pecks on your skin. “Come with me, okay?” 

You hum, shaking your head in quick motions and trapping your lower lip in your teeth because you know your moans would be screams by now, and before the neighbours might mislead this beautiful sex for a crime scene, you try to keep it under control. Haechan is not as careful as you, his velvety, deep moans slip freely and you can’t blame him, your pussy must be gripping him tighter than ever before and be just as wet, the lewd wet sounds are a clear indication of how turned on you are. 

And something between all that makes you both reach your climax, panting and squirming against each other before you go slack on the mattress and he collapses on top of you, thoughtful enough to turn off the toy and threw it at the side of the bed. 

You feel lost in a haze when you turn around and snuggle closer to him, breathing in his scent and running your fingers on his chest. You look up and see him smiling lazily at you, and you reciprocate. 

“You amaze me sometimes,” he whispers mindlessly, letting his hand run on your back, reaching your hair to brush some strands, following their natural pattern. 

You chuckle, “For taking your cock so well?” 

He snorts, rolling his eyes and leaning closer to you; the temptation to kiss you is strong, and weirdly enough you still haven’t moved back, but he knows he can’t risk it. “For taking everything I give you so well.” 

“Fair.” 

You stay there for a while more, waiting for your bodies to recharge a bit but the more he holds you in his arms the more you feel sleep take over you. But you both know you can’t sleep in those conditions, so Haechan breaks the magic. 

“Should we order something to eat and in the meanwhile take a bath?” 

You stretch, and hum. “If you carry me to the bathroom.” 

Once he has ordered food and you’re both sitting in the bathtub, you let the warmth of the water wrap around you. It feels nice after the exhausting sex, and you love the scent of Haechan’s body wash, you love feeling his arms around you and his hands on you. 

There’s nothing sexual about this, he’s delicately cleaning you with the sponge while you talk about stupid things and make jokes. 

It’s warm. And safe. And special. 

It’s different. 

From anything else that ever happened before with anybody else, and even with him. And you think you might get used to this. 

To a home, not a house. 

To a place to come back to that’s full of life and love. 

To him, and his laugh, and his voice, and his clothes scattered around, and his screams when he loses against his friends. 

You truly believe you could get used to this. 

But all the fears you have to face still appear like an insurmountable wall that menaces crashing on you. 

Haechan has no intention of letting it slide this time. When he can’t reach you through call, when you still don’t answer his texts after five days, he knows he won’t write pathetic, heartbroken messages to you to let you go again. 

He’s mad, furious, even, and once again, he can’t understand you. 

You were back together, better than before, closer than before, and now, you’re gone without a word another time.

He doesn’t bother to text you to warn you, he’s pretty sure if you knew he was coming, you would’ve escaped to the other side of the world, leaving no traces behind. So he’s standing at your door, ringing the bell with no patience, and huffing loudly. 

When the door opens and you murmur a curse after blabbering Johnny’s name because you were expecting to find him, your eyes widen. 

“Haechan?” You whisper, throat dry and hand shaking on the knob. 

He doesn’t say anything, he pushes you to the side and enters the place. 

“Haechan, I can —” you start, but his glare stops you. 

“Why do you always ruin everything good?” His voice is shaking and so are his lips, quivering even now that he’s not talking anymore. 

And you’re frozen. You’re not ready for this. You didn’t prepare a speech before, you don’t have an explanation about your personality and you two. You spent the last five days working and worrying because things went wrong once again because you let him too close and now he is there, waiting for an answer you were never able to give yourself.

“I said,” he starts, “why do you ruin everything good?” 

“I don’t…” 

Haechan groans loudly, throwing his head back and turning around because he can’t stand your face, your tears rolling down your cheeks as if you’re the victim in this, and probably partially you are, but why can’t you let him in? Why can’t you explain it to him? Whatever is bothering you and making you stab him repeatedly. He just wants to know why before he lets you go, but it seems you don’t even know how to do that. 

“You ran away from us another time and you can’t give me an explanation?”

“I’m scared, okay? What’s between us is… is not going where I planned it to go and it’s becoming so much. I just don’t know what to do,” you try to explain, trying to keep your composure and don’t shake like a leaf. 

Haechan scoffs in disbelief, but the truth is that he’s feeling an abnormal amount of pain just looking into your eyes. “What’s there to know? I thought we were fine. I… I came back to you as if nothing happened, as if you didn’t leave me without a word. I hurt an innocent person all because I wanted to be with you, in any way, I don’t care. I didn’t even want apologies or anything, I just wanted you and I thought we were doing fine but to you, fine is never enough.”

“It was enough, it is. I — I think it’s too much. I don’t know how to deal with this. With you,” you reason, and it’s hard to look into his eyes when you can see all the pain you’re causing.  

“I thought…” he stops, backtracking on his own words because none of this makes sense. You never show signs of discomfort when you’re together, you used to bicker much more at the start than now, so your words sound crazy to his ears. “Why can’t you tell me this when I do things that are too much for you?” 

“Because they aren’t too much when they happen. I like what we have.” 

“Then why do you run away?” He can’t keep his voice low, and those words come out in a scream full of bitter incredulity. 

You break into a cry, but you immediately stop yourself, forcing the tears back in your eyes and the sobs down your throat. Once again you can’t give him an answer, just a useless apology. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, keeping eye contact no matter how much it hurts because you need him to know you’re being honest, you’re not lying or putting up walls. It’s just hard to tear down the ones you already have built around yourself.  

“No, you’re not,” he retorts, voice lower. “It happened twice, Jesus Christ, twice. You can go back to your ex, the one who treated you like shit, but you can’t at least warn me when you need some time alone.” 

You shake your head, pressing your lips flat to hold in the cries. “I don’t need some time alone. I’m confused and overwhelmed.” 

“By what?” Haechan urges again, nervously moving in small steps on the spot, feeling like he could explode at any minute. 

“Everything. All of this is new to me and I… I’m trying to be a better person. I’m trying not to hurt the ones that I love, and don’t fuck everything up, but I can’t. Everything I touch becomes sick and dies and… and I don’t know what to do.”

Haechan is confused. He thought that what you had had never been better than this, so why is it so different for you? Why are your points of view so far from one another and distorted? Maybe that is the problem, after all, you are too different from each other, not compatible, and it will never work. “But I don’t get you, I’ve tried, I swear, I did, but it’s like — it’s like there’s a wall and I can’t get past it.” 

You groan, throwing your head back, but you know that if it’s difficult for you to explain it must be ten times harder for him to understand. “It’s hard for me.” 

“But why? I thought I was better than your ex, why are you pushing me away?” He knows he’s not perfect, but he’s never done anything to hurt you, moreover, he always tried everything to protect you and make you feel good, and that went beyond sex. He thought it was clear, but apparently, it was all to waste. 

You’re short of words, struggling to come up with an answer. “Because, because, fuck, I’ve never felt like this before. You fucked me up in a way no one else ever did. It’s pathetic the way you make me weak. The way… the way my walls come crashing down when I’m with you.” 

“Oh, really?” It’s a scoff, full of sarcasm, mockery and resentment and it’s even followed by a click of the tongue. 

Your voice falters as tears break free from your eyes. Of course, he doesn’t believe you. Of course, he can’t know how much you showed of yourself, parts of you nobody else has ever seen. “They do. You simply don’t pry in, you don’t push me to my limits to make me let you in but the door for you is wide open. I feel… I’m vulnerable.” You stop, taking a deep breath. “When I’m with you, I’m vulnerable.”

Haechan shakes his head, thinking you can’t be serious. The only time you have been vulnerable was because of your ex, and the other times you opened up, well, he’s not so sure you told him anything true. “And yet I still don’t get you, and I’m starting to think I’ll never will because… you act like a child running away when nothing happens. What do you do when things go wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” you cry, sliding down on the floor, covering your face with your closed fist. You don’t let things in your life go wrong, because they already went wrong years ago and you can’t even risk for a tragedy to happen again. That’s why you need rules, order, and peace. “I’ve never had something like, something like… this,” you confess, looking at him. “I’ve never had someone like you.” Haechan. The opposite of what you needed until now to survive. There were no rules with him, no order and no peace, but strangely enough, all his opposites didn’t bring you war. Yet, that doesn’t calm you, something about all of this feels like a bomb to you and he still doesn’t understand you. 

The heavy sigh that comes from his lips makes you look away. “So, you run when things are good? Will you keep leaving me? Do I have to come running to you, looking for you, not knowing if you want me or if I should leave you space?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Haechan almost yells. “Stop saying that, it’s infuriating.” 

“But I truly have no idea. I just told you. I could tell you about me, but why would you want to listen?” 

“Because I love you?” He screams, jaw dropping as he realizes what he said. “Fuck, there, I said it, and I scared you away once and for all, but honestly, I can’t keep doing this any longer. I love you. I don’t know why but I guess I am dumb and always fall for the people I can’t have. But I do. And I would love to sit here and listen to you because, guess what, I want this to work out. Because that’s what normal people do. They talk and they listen. They don’t run away.” 

“You — you love me?” 

Haechan takes a deep breath, and a tear rolls down his eyes as he hums, nodding. “And you don’t have to say anything, I don’t care if you don’t love me back, but that’s why I hate when you act like this because you don’t let good things come at you in life, I might not be your happy event but…” 

“But?” 

“Grow up.” 

Your breath gets stuck in your throat and more tears flood your face, blurring your view. Those words feel like a gunshot straight to your heart and you can’t believe you’re hearing them from him. You know that wasn’t his initial thought, but he doesn’t backtrack. 

“Grow up because you need to learn how to deal with this shit, whatever it is, whatever is making you act like this. Excuses and apologies are not enough. You might not hurt people on purpose, but you still do and I…” 

“No, please,” you scream when Haechan starts walking to the door swiftly, opening it before you can even make him out. “Don’t leave,” you cry, struggling to stand on your knees. “Don’t leave me, too.” 

He stops and turns around gulping but shaking his head. 

“I need to be alone,” his voice is broken and he’s clearly holding back tears, and you’d like to run in his arms and hug him, but, once again, the rational part of you is holding you back, so you let him go, like you let go every other person of your life, with the difference you didn’t care about them as you care about him. 

“I can’t keep defending you,” Johnny confesses while he stares at your crying face. You called him sobbing, muttering a few words, but he didn’t need more to come rushing to you. He didn’t even need you to explain, he knew. Haechan had this over-dramatic way of reacting, posting sad Instagram stories with depressing and heart-wrenching songs, and everything led back to you. Also, he had told him he ‘broke’ everything with Wonyoung and Johnny saw how you two were close once again. So, you must’ve fucked it up once again and that was why you two were here. 

“You don’t have to,” you weep, hiding your face in his chest, and wrapping your arms around his broad back, deeply hoping he would crash you with his arms and you would stop suffering for all your poor decisions. 

“You can’t keep sabotaging yourself,” he says, caressing your scalp in circular motions, knowing that always makes you calm down. “I can’t keep seeing you like this.” 

“I was never like this.” 

Johnny sighs, “You might not cry but if you think that I don’t know your fucked up coping mechanism, you’re wrong. And we know well it’s not only about love. Everything good that happens in your life you have to turn into a curse. Why?” 

“I don’t know.” You know it well, and weirdly it isn’t even in your power. 

“You had an offer of a job you loved and you lost it all because you thought you were undeserving and played humble, and let’s not talk about the days before the interview you spent feeling sick because you thought you weren’t good enough for it.”

A broken sniffle rolls from your lips. 

“Do we have to go back to the school years?” 

“No, thanks.” You don’t need a reminder, the years of tears and stress that you doubled for the standards you set for yourself are still weighing on you, so you don’t want to go back there mentally. 

“And love… why do you think you don’t deserve love?” 

“I don’t think I don’t deserve it. I never felt something so strong and I’m afraid. What if… what if we’re both not ready to settle down and be serious with this? What if it will break my heart?” 

Johnny chuckles, “And what if he’s the love of your life?” 

“Oh,” you whisper, your heart speeding up just thinking about it. The long-term scared you, that was why you ran away. You love how you feel good when you’re with him, but you’re terrified it won’t last and once the spell expires you will be left in the ashes. 

“The only certain things in life are taxes, if you’re not a rich asshole, and death, but everything else? It’s a shot in the dark. Don’t you think some risks are worth taking?” 

“But it will hurt.” 

“And isn’t it hurting already?” 

“Oh.” 

Johnny smiles, caressing your cheek. “Why are you so worried about the future? You can’t make it perfect. You can’t have control over everything, little bird.” 

“Don’t call me little bird,” you say, emitting a sound mixed with a sniffle and a chuckle. 

“You are. And you still didn’t learn how to fly. But if you don’t fly, how will you live?” 

You sigh, rubbing your hands on your face before biting your nails nervously. 

“Listen,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and gently whispering your name to make you look at him. “I know why you want to have control so badly. I know why you think that if you plan it all before, think about all the things that could go wrong, and torture yourself into thinking that you can have power over the wilderness of the world and destiny, nothing else will go wrong, but it’s not like this. We both know it.” 

You sob louder, knowing exactly what he’s talking about, eyes dropping to the floor as guilt plunges your heart again. “I could’ve saved him.” 

“No, you couldn’t have. Some things are just not in our power. I blamed myself too, so many times. But I swore to him I would’ve protected you over anything, and if that anything is yourself and your fears, I will protect you from you.” 

You wish you could feel better at his words, but they only make more tears stream down your face. “If I didn’t call him, if I… if I had someone to come home with this wou—” 

“It would’ve happened,” Johnny stops you. “You’re not that powerful, little bird. I’m sorry,” he chuckles, wiping your tears away. “None of us is. And it’s all about luck, and just occasionally about merits. So, if life sent Haechan to you, don’t make him slip away.” 

“But every time I followed my instinct things went terribly, I feel like I carry so much bad luck around me sometimes.” 

Johnny only hugs you for a while, caressing your back and lulling you in his arms. “When you were a kid and let the sea carry you too far away?” 

“My father almost died.” 

“But he didn’t.” 

“Yes, but then… you know what happened.” 

“And it wasn’t your fault. After that you never let emotions carry you, you never let someone deep into you because you think everyone could betray you, and unless you have everything written down you don’t do a thing. You hide it quite well, you almost seem normal from the outside.” 

You laugh lightly and hug him tighter. You don’t feel better, but maybe he’s right, maybe this is your chance to change your life and stop living in fear. 

“So, what do I do?” 

“You let Haechan in, maybe explain something to him so he puts his mind at ease because I think that both Adele and Taylor Swift’s discographies are about to end, he seemed rather depressed in his stories.” 

“And if it goes wrong?” 

“At least you tried.” 

A heavy sigh rolls from your lips as you stare blankly at the floor, nervously biting the inside of your cheeks and, once again, trying to think faster than life, maybe if you change your plans, it would count as if you still made them, right? Or maybe this time there is no plan, and it’s right like this. 

“I only promised him one thing, and I’m not going to take my words back, little bird. He wanted you to live, to be free, and to be loved. On the way to you, he called me, ranting furiously about how he would’ve killed your stupid boyfriend if he saw him somewhere because nobody could hurt you. He only wanted someone that was right for you. I’m sure he would love Haechan, and who knows, maybe Hyuck is truly sent from above.” 

When your closed fist crashes against Haechan’s front door to knock on it you feel like you could pass out. You keep torturing the inside of your cheeks, chewing the flesh nervously, while your right foot nervously bounces against the cold floor. 

You slightly jump back when the door opens and your eyes meet with his. 

“Who’s — Oh, it’s you,” he whispers and he almost sounds disappointed, you wouldn’t bet on it, but his eyes are not looking at you like they usually would and that makes you regret even more that you came. 

“Can we talk?” Your voice is weak and hardly comes out, vocal cords shaking like your body. “No, we need to talk. Please,” you add to don’t sound too rude, it’s the last thing you can be, given the position you’re in. 

Haechan sighs, rubbing his face and then moving to the side to let you in. The house is dark, the only light comes from outside, and dead quiet. 

“Why are you here?” He questions, crossing his arms and watching as you’re about to sit on the sofa. You stop halfway and gulp, standing up again and clinging to your purse. “You can sit.” 

You do, fixing your clothes and looking down at the floor. 

“So? I don’t have all day,” he urges and the coldness of his voice is the tenth bad sign that’s screaming you shouldn’t do this. 

“About us.” 

Haechan chuckles, it’s a bitter laugh, trapped in the back of his throat while his eyes roll to the sky and his head shakes. “Us? Now you decided there’s an us?” 

You bite your lower lip and clench your fists. “Please, just let me explain.” 

“Sure, can’t wait to hear some other bullshit you’ll have to tell me before disappearing forever,” he says, sitting in front of you, and the distance feels unbearable. You had never seen him this cold, not even when you went back to the coastal town this winter. 

“Listen, I’m here to talk like adults, okay? Can we please stop being childish and put the pride away for just an hour? Then I’ll leave if you want to.” 

He hums, he’d love to add that he doesn’t want you to leave, but he keeps his mouth shut and waits for you to talk. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “For everything I did to you. Trying not to hurt myself I only hurt you and I didn’t want to.” 

He babbles something under his breath, shaking his head, he can’t even be mad at you for long and he hates it. 

“And I don’t want you to forgive me, but I think I owe you my honesty, and a bit more of me, you know…” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“No, I do, because you let me… you let me in. You talked about your family, about your struggles, how you moved here on your own and I said a few things and I even lied.” 

Haechan’s face cannot be read, probably a fragment of stupor crosses it or maybe disappointment, but then he scoffs. “Why am I not surprised?” 

“I didn’t — I didn’t think we would ever get here,” you confess. “You were supposed to be just sex, Haechan. To be honest, I didn’t even want you to be that. Johnny dragged me to that bar and here we are.” 

He gulps, moving his eyes up and down your figure, and then takes a deep breath. “We don’t have to be anything, I just wish you wouldn’t cut me off like this all the time because it hurts. I care about you and the idea of hurting you, even involuntarily, kills me. It’s pathetic, I know, but…” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “but it’s the truth.” 

Your heart jumps and you can’t believe his words. So is this how it feels when the person you love the most is about to give you up? “But I do.” 

“What?” 

“I — I…” you choke up on your words, fighting the tears back. “I want to — I don’t know why it is so hard.” No, you know why, because the last time the words ‘I love you’ slipped from your lips you were bent on a deathbed, beginning your other half to stay alive, to don’t leave you in the madness of the world at fifteen, promising him from then on you were going to listen, to stay in track and never break a rule, but it was all in vain. And now confessing that something as strong as love ties you to someone that wasn’t in your life since forever makes you shit yourself. 

“You don’t have to fake it if you don’t feel anything. I know I crossed a line, I know what our rules were and I’m aware I broke them so no, I won’t blame you if I lose you,” Haechan says, stopping probably to gather the courage to add the last words, “I know I already did.” 

“No, you didn’t,” you say. “Let me talk, please?” 

Haechan’s not sure, taking time to consider his options, but then nods, humming lowly. This might be the last time he has you like this, if he didn’t listen to you now, he would’ve regretted it forever, staying up at night thinking about what you had to say. 

“Remember when I told you about Johnny and my brother?” Haechan nods, even if he doesn’t get its correlation with you two. “I lied. They never fought; my brother died,” your voice falters as it comes out to give him such a big piece of you. You take a deep breath and then exhale, “It was all my fault.” 

“What?” He blurts out, eyes wide and mouth open. “I mean, I’m sorry, God, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that but… I…” 

You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s alright, I would’ve reacted the same way if you pretended your brother was alive and well.” 

“It didn’t happen recently, right?” He’s afraid all this time you left, it was because of that, maybe you were going through a loss and he wasn’t by your side.  

You shake your head, playing with your fingers. “I was fifteen, and he was only twenty.” 

He mentally takes a breath of relief knowing it was in the past, but he doesn’t feel any better, it’s clear it’s still hard for you to talk about it even if seven years went by. “But… unless you didn’t kill him, how can it be your fault?” 

“If only I didn’t call him, if only I listened to my parents and never… never dated him or went on that trip, my brother would be here today.” 

Haechan tries to talk but you stop him. “But that’s not why I talked to you about this, I mean, I still have to talk to you about this. I hope it can make you understand why… why I’m like this.” 

The man in front of you swallows, and you can read it in his eyes he’s not so sure anymore he wants to dive deep into you, but it’s the only way he can at least try to forgive you. 

“I know it sounds crazy but, when I was a child, I was reckless and only trusted my instincts. I loved living to the fullest, you know? I always tried new things and nothing really scared me. I was like this even with people, I always saw their good, but sometimes the good never even existed.” 

Haechan doesn’t talk, he only looks at you, listening attentively. And that makes you relax a bit, that was one of his thousand virtues, he always listened and emitted this sense of calm.  

“I was like this even as a teenager when I didn’t know men are shit since the day they are born.” 

“Fair,” he agrees. 

“I’m sorry, like, some of you are just terrible and when I was fourteen I fell for the worst one, but I couldn’t see it. I’ve never been a loser, not in a cliché way, but he seemed so cool in my eyes. He was pretty, popular, funny, for the broken humour of fourteen years old me, and he could do so much more than I could and I was in love, not really looking back at it now, and jealous.” 

“I guess he was older?” 

“He was, he turned seventeen when I turned fifteen and we weren’t together until then, but I was… a child at heart. I didn’t feel ready to try a lot of new things and he always pressured me into them. My parents didn’t like him, but I was headstrong and didn’t listen. Anyway, we dated for a while and everything was fine, until one day he asked me to go camping with his friends. I was so happy, it was my first night out with people I wasn’t super close with and we were under the sky, in my mind it was going to be the most romantic night of my life until it turned into a nightmare. My parents didn’t want me to go, so I had a fight with them and my brother took my defences, saying that I had to make my first experiences and if something happened I could always call home, so they gave up. But I was still mad at them and didn’t want to call them when things went wrong, proving they were right would’ve killed my pride, so I called my brother. I knew he would’ve never said anything to me.” 

“Did he… force you?” 

You shake your head. “No, but they were doing drugs and mixing it with alcohol and I was afraid, I only knew him and two other girls, but never was in touch with his friends and they were all starting to get too violent, and I didn’t like the jokes, the jokes about me. They started mocking me, for being too naïve, and pure and he didn’t say a word to defend me, he even laughed with them, straight to my face. And then the alcohol made him confess he hated how we still hadn’t fuck because I wasn’t ready, and after that, I snapped. I was terrified he was going to find a way to make it happen somehow that night and I didn’t want to be there. I had nobody to defend me and I couldn’t stay there. So I grabbed my things while fighting with him and ran away, in the middle of the wood, crying and heartbroken…” 

“So you called your brother?” 

You nod, wiping away the tears. “He came rushing, and he wanted to address them but I just wanted to go home, technically to Johnny’s place, I didn’t want to see my parents and we had this plan we would’ve kept it a secret from them.”

“So you were already friends with Johnny?” 

You nod. “We’ve always been, that’s why I tell you that I could never be attracted to him, he has always been like my second older brother, and now he’s the only one I have left.” 

“You don’t have to go on…” Haechan says, seeing how much you’re shaking and how weak your voice is. 

“No, I do, I need to. I trust you,” you confess, and the beam behind his eyes dims your tension. “We were driving to Johnny’s place, it was late at night and it also started raining. I know it would’ve happened even if he wasn’t mad because we were in the right, he was driving well, but if only I didn’t call him up he would’ve been at home and not in that damn crossroad.” You can’t go on and you lower your head while you try to gather your thoughts and stop your body from shaking. You feel Haechan’s hand reach yours and you hold it tight after the sofa hollows as he sits next to you. 

“The last thing I remember is his hand on my thigh while he caressed my hand to calm me down, and the static, deafening sound in my ear of the crush, the pain and his hand slipping away.” 

“So, you were there?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “He didn’t die on the spot, he suffered for like a week, he even woke up, barely had time to talk one last time to all of us and then his heart had a failure and they couldn’t save him.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, contemplating hugging you but it feels out of place, so he only keeps caressing your hand. “And you?” 

“Broken leg, broken arm, a minor brain trauma and something else but I’m still here, and he’s not. And why? Because I decided to follow my dumb heart.”

Haechan feels out of place but after what you heard he can’t keep quiet. “I… I think he loved you too much to blame you for something that wasn’t in your power.” 

“I know, I swear. I went to therapy, and I know it’s not my fault, I accepted his death and I know he would’ve thrown himself in the flames for me, but I can’t let go of this fear in my everyday life. Not having control drives me crazy and with you, I lost it so soon, it never happened before.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” Haechan confesses, he’s still holding your hand because it feels like the only thing he can do. But other than that? He can’t protect you from your fears and he doesn’t know how to give some control into your hands, it’s not in his power either. 

“I love you,” you confess, looking into his eyes and he freezes, the hold on your palm loosening. “And that’s the shitties confession ever, and I’m so sorry I just finished trauma dumping you, but I… I can’t keep losing good things in life because I’m afraid of taking risks. I can’t erase you, I’ve tried, but I can’t.” 

Haechan’s mouth is wide and he’s not sure if he went completely insane or if those words came out of your mouth for real. 

“I can’t move on from you. And I don’t need all the big answers I was searching for to give this a reason, I love you, it’s simple as that.” 

“I…” he tries to answer you, but he feels his heart racing and head spinning, you just said you love him, twice. 

You stand up and start walking back and forth. “I’ve never been so honest, but I can’t stop thinking of you, dreaming of you, even. And I can’t believe I love being with you so much. God, you were supposed to be just a one-night stand and here we are, you washed over me like a rouge wave and...” you chuckle, eyes glistening as happy tears wet them “... I can’t even care if it made me drown. I love you too much to care about what will happen, to worry about something that might not even happen. But even if it will, even if life will ever tear us away, I want to live in the present, I want to kiss you in front of our friends, I want to hold hands when you pick me up from work, I want to sing with you in the car as we drive to our favorite place, I want to wake up next to you and don’t have to sneak out like a thief. I want to leave my toothbrush at your place, next to yours, right where it belongs.”   

You can’t read his expression, your heart dares to say he’s happy, surely shocked and probably thrilled, but your brain is still the annoying douchebag that makes you feel he doesn’t want you back. 

“And I know I’m hard to be with but if you want me, if you feel like you can take me for who I am, I promise that I won’t disappear ever again and I will let you in.” 

Haechan chuckles and then raises his head to smile at you. “You are the wildest rollercoaster I’ve ever been on, you know?” You hum, smiling sadly. “But I can’t get off.” Your eyes light up at his words and your heart starts beating again as if it has been brought back to life. 

“So you don’t hate me?” 

He shakes his head, standing up to be face to face. “I don’t think I can.” 

Your smile lights up the room, and Haechan leans closer. “So, can I kiss you or are we breaking another rule?” 

You chuckle. “We are. I think this is the only one we never broke, we never kissed outside of sex.” 

“Oh, so this one has to be special…” he caresses your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, rubbing your skin with his thumb and then leans in, “…to us?” 

You smile, gulping before moving closer, leaving only a few millimetres between you. “To us.” When your lips meet it feels like a patch being put on your broken wings. It’s soft, and there’s still a lot of fear in your shaking hands and lips, but it feels like floating in the sky. You know it’s going to be hard for the both of you, he has his skeletons just like you have yours, but this feels right. This feels like the place where you have to be. In his arms, hanging from his lips. 

Haechan hits different. Haechan is like a high-speed train and a bullet to the heart. Haechan is like jumping in the void with no parachute on hoping wings will grow from your back to keep you floating. But it’s good and it makes you feel alive, a feeling you’re now sure you had forgotten a long time ago. 

And maybe, after all, you have to thank Johnny for this.

© neowinestaindress ; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. 

[y-umiko]

TOKYOREV BOYS WHEN SOMEONE ASK THEM IF YOU'RE SINGLE

CHARACTER(S): Draken . Mikey . Baji . Mitsuya WARNING/S: a bit smutty on Baji's part

Draken

The Tokyo Manji Gang gathered for their meeting, though aimed to hang out, the others take this opportunity to introduce their new members to one another.

"Hey! Hey! who's that over there?"

Draken who was mingling with the new members and was busy introducing one another turned to look at the member who spoke. recognizing him as one of the new members who joined the 2nd division.

following the member's line of sight, Draken's gaze falls upon you, happily conversing with Emma. your name leaving his lips unconsciously.

"Y/n?"

The new member sighed dreamily, not taking his eyes off you. "what a pretty name, Is she single?"

"No" was Draken's quick response, his eyebrows furrowed intimidatingly, standing taller to appear more intimidating to the other person as if he needed it.

"I-I see" the new member nervously mumbled, putting both his hand in the air in surrender before scurrying away.

honestly, Draken doesn't know what to feel, but thinking about it now, you and Emma are like a rose among the thorns during gatherings like this, what was Mikey thinking allowing his sister to attend gatherings?

and what was he thinking letting you tag along with him during meetings, and let alone leaving your side, letting you walk around and socializing with the guys without him? especially, since not everyone knows of your relationship.

however, Draken wouldn't be so strict as to not allow you to their gatherings but his not so into vocalizing to everyone that you belong to him, as much as he wanted to do that, he doesn't want a scene that would garner attention and embarrass you.

rather Draken would be more subtle.

"What's this for?" you asked as you felt Draken drap his uniform jacket on your shoulders. the words 'Tokyo Manji Gang Vice captain', on display for everyone to see. subtle but effective.

"Just felt like it"

Mikey

It's very unlikely that someone would not know that you were dating the infamous invisible Mikey. reputation aside, it's hard not to know you two were dating when Mikey was constantly tied to your side.

if his not holding your hand, his arms would be wrapped around your waist, head resting on your shoulder as you feed him his favorite snacks. really, it's really not that hard to notice.

however, there is always that one dumbass who couldn't take a hint. whose dumb enough to not know who Mikey is and brave enough to approach him when you momentarily left to go the bathroom.

"hey that person you were with earlier, do you know if she's dating someone?"

he blinked a few times before his face twisted into a pout, "yes! And happily so"

the other person sigh, a hand behind his nack in disappointment as his eyes unconsciously follow the direction you just left, which Mikey took the wrong way.

"that's too bad, and she looks so pretty too"

The other person flinch when his instinct suddenly took over his body, feeling a sudden aura coming from Mikey. "don't get any ideas, Y/n's mine"

with a chill that run down his spine, the other person was quick to leave. when you returned, Mikey was back to his usual cheerful self but this time extra clingy and affectionate.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" you asked him, but Mikey only smiled and buried his head deeper between your neck and shoulder.

"Nope, just showing everyone you're with me"

Baji

"Baji-san you're close with Y/n-chan aren't you?"

Baji stopped writing on his paper, peeking through his eyeglasses to look at the other person. his classmate who asked or rather beg to join your study session with Baji.

something about his classmate didn't sit well with him, was it the use of your first name or the fact that his classmate look a little red on the face upon mentioning your name? nonetheless, Baji proudly answered a resounding Yeah. yet the other person's next question made him uneasy.

"Do you know if she's dating anyone?"

The words process in his head, in disbelief that his classmate just asks that, does not the whole school know you were dating him. Was the fact you spend all the breaks together, enough to say that you two were dating? the hand holding? the quick peck of kisses? was his classmate not really aware?

Baji can only furrow his eyebrow in confusion, before removing his glasses and placing them on the table, before crossing his arms against his chest. the atmosphere turning into a more serious note.

"Listen carefully c/n…"

"oh what are we talking about here?" you ask arriving just now for the afterschool study session, cutting off Baji, clueless to the current situation.

however, Baji's gaze flicked towards you, and as soon as you were within reach, Baji was quick to pull you down to his lap and smash his lips against yours, giving his classmate a front seat on the spectacle.

"…do you understand now?" Baji asked his classmate who can only nod with a red face before quickly excusing himself. leaving you with a beaming Baji, proud of what he did.

"What was that for?" you asked which he quickly avoided answering by smashing his lips with yours again.

If he has to kiss you over and over again for everyone to know you belong to him, he definitely won't have any complaints.

Mitsuya

"I'll see you later Taka" You bid goodbye to Mitsuya, turning around and closing the door to the club room.

"Mitsuya senpai, can I ask you a question?" a first-year who recently joined the club called. Mitsuya was quick to turn his attention to him and nodded to continue.

"Is y/n-senpai seeing someone?"

it took Mitsuya a moment to respond, a little taken aback by the question when he was expecting a question regarding the club. it was a first, that someone would ask him of all people if you're single.

though he knew you were pretty and garnered attention from all over the school, he was assured that they knew you were dating him. They should be, yet the first year in front of him says otherwise.

he really shouldn't care and just answer that you were dating him yet he suddenly can't help feeling a little insecure. was it not that clear you two were dating?

before Mitsuya can answer, Hakkai came interrupting upon hearing your name leaving the first year's lips. Your dating Mitsuya and Hakkai was just protective of you. blazing and cutting through the conversation with his hot head.

"oi! Y/n-chan is dating Taka-chan! don't go thinking you have a chance!"

The first year was quick to apologize, “O-oh sorry, Mitsuya-senpai I didn't know"

all well that ends well, yet Mitsuya brought the first year's question with him until he met you, and asked a question that he shouldn't have in the first place.

"you love me right?"

you chuckled, "What kind of question is that? Of course, I love you"

the words bringing back his smile and forgetting the first year's question. he becomes more affectionate in public for a few days after that.

[lou-struck]

They Said No... Part 1

Obey Me! x MC!

Featuring: Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan

Part 2 HERE

Part 3 HERE

~Regular projects are being put on pause because I am a bit stressed. And I feel like this will help me out.

~We all get asked to do things sometimes that we do not want to do. And it's okay to say no, but sometimes you need a little extra help to get the point across.

Warnings: Pushy Demons, talk of pact control,

Lucifer

The eldest Avatar of Pride tries to hide the spring in his step as he approaches your meeting place. He had managed to work through all of the day's paperwork, and to celebrate, he was planning on taking you out to a nice meal on the town. 

But as he gets closer, he sees a few familiar noble demons practically standing over you. The polite smile that rests on your lips is betrayed by your overly tense body language and the grip you have on your DDD. Clearly, you would like to be anywhere else.

His brow furrows in concern as he focuses his attention on your conversion to see what exactly it is they want with you. Knowing that he can't just step in on your conversation without a good reason. Especially in High society.

"I will not do that; it is not right." your voice says, sounding quite annoyed at the situation you are in. It makes Lucifer chuckle to himself; you are just as headstrong as ever. But he does wonder what deed these men are asking you to do that frustrates you so.

The Demon clears his throat haughtily and steps closer to you, his companion mirroring the action, not giving you a chance to walk away. "It's for the good of the Devildom MC if you were to just use that silly little pact mark of yours and order Lucifer to drag his feet on signing off on that royal proclamation the Demon Lord has put out. We will happily be on our way and out of your hair."

Lucifer's jaw clenches furiously at the Demon's words. Ever since word of your pact with the eldest avatar of sin has spread through the Devildom, he has been waiting for insignificant worms to try and abuse the pacts. The Larger of the two demons is a known instigator of political conflict, thriving on the chaos of delayed legislation and discord. His beady eyes stare down at you condescendingly as he flares his dragonfly-shaped wings in the hope of intimidating you into doing his bidding. 

"I don't use my pacts," you spit, a nervous tremor to your voice. Your strength may be great, but you haven't the energy to deal with these Demons right now. "Please leave me alone."

"You will do what I want," the Winged Demon snarls, reaching out toward your arm. 

"That's enough," Lucifer cuts in, stepping down the corner as if he has only just stumbled upon this little scene. The three of you turn towards him instantly, and the two demons take a large step away from you cowardly. "Now, my human has clearly said no to whatever it was you were trying to get them to do, so be on your way."

Too afraid to say anything else, the two demons rush away, leaving you alone with the Avatar of Pride. You throw yourself into his chest, your body shaking a bit as you relax. 

"I did say no, Lucifer," you say into his collar. "Did you hear me? I would never want to do that to you, I promise."

"I heard everything; you did nothing wrong." he soothes; dealing with those demons can wait for later, but for now, he needs to take care of you.

Mammon

Mammon loves to spoil you more than anything in the three realms. The days after he plays well at the casino are spent in luxury; he takes you to the best shops and restaurants in the Devildom, more than ready to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. 

The café you were at is no exception with its luxuriously decadent sweets and, as Mammon had just found out, the fully stocked bathroom of complimentary samples. After sticking a handful of the mini cologne samples into his pocket, he comes back to the table to where you are sitting. But as he approaches your sweet little table in the corner, he notices you are no longer alone. The previously unoccupied seats at your table are now in use by some demons he knows.

Mammon may not be the best judge of character, but even he knows these guys are bad news. In the past, they have tried to start numerous sham businesses and fraudulent get-rich-quick schemes. 

Why in Diavolo would they be talking to his human? This is supposed to be his time with you?.

He feels his protective greed towards you start to flare up as he approaches a table, his superior hearing picking up a bit of their conversation.

"Come on, doll face," the blond one coo's leaning back on the seat next to yours, "We got a great opportunity for Mammon; he just needs a bit of convincing to agree."

You shake your head now and, with a politeness that would put even Barbados to shame, and say that Mammon is perfectly capable of making these decisions for himself. 

The trust that you have for your first Demon causes a heavy flush to appear on his cheeks. 

"Don't be like that, Mc," the other one pushes, swinging a lazy arm over your shoulder. Not seem to care that you tense up under the weight of his unwelcome touch. "if you do this for us, two pretty influential demons will owe you a favor."

The touch is the straw that broke the camel's back. No one gets to act so freely with his human. "Oi, get yer own human," he shouts, rushing forward and pulling you from the Demon's grip. "Come on, Mc, they don't got anythin worth lookin' at." 

Not caring about the uneaten treats that have just arrived at the table, he leads you away from those creeps and out of the cafe. 

Once alone and safe, he shoots you a wink. "Next time, just don't say anything to those losers. The Great Mammon will keep em away."

Leviathan

Levi's merch collection is one of the most coveted of the entire Devildom. His Figurines, Manga, DVDs, and memorabilia are worth a small fortune thanks to his fascination and skill as a top Otaku.

He has a sixth sense for picking out the most sought-after merch.

His fans on his online servers love his collection almost as much as he does. Blowing up his chat whenever he unboxes a new figurine.

He loves it, but he prefers to keep his online life online. Especially when he has to leave the house to go to RAD.

Today is one of those days; although most of his classes are online, he still has to show up to campus to take exams. With his exam done, he leaves the testing center and goes to find the classroom where you are studying.

As he approaches the open door, he sees you having a conversation with a demon he thinks he recognizes.

Not one for unwanted social interaction; he waits outside only to hear the conversation that the two of you are having.

"Please, Mc, you gotta give me that figurine. Levi-chan will never love Zaramela as I do. It will be the perfect addition to my collection." they plead, sinking to their knees and staring up at you with watery avian esque eyes. Zaramela is one of Levi's favorite Idols; he won a contest the other day for one of her limited-edition singing figurines. 

Levi has already turned down many people's requests to buy it, wanting to keep it for himself. But now they're going through you to try and get him to hand it over. It's so gross it makes him want to shut himself away in his room and never come out. Curiously he waits for you to respond to the crying Demon.

"He already told you that he wasn't going to give it away. "You stay calm, taking a step back to create some distance between you and the Demon. "You're just gonna have to find something else for your collection."

"No," they shout, springing to their feet, "I need her; I need her. Why don't you do this one thing for me?"

Levi knows his Henry can handle this guy, but the pushiness the Demon is showing towards you is something that makes his blood boil.

"Like MC would ever listen to a normie like you, you are a disgrace to the fandom." Levi spits with a confidence he didn't know he possessed as he takes your hand and walks you back to the house of lamination.

[writingmeraki]

hurt hearts — k.mg drabble.

❝ in which you learn mingyu has a big heart ( and chest—) and he's terribly hurt while you might just beat the shit out of him.

( or mingyu's heart was already yours before you even knew it )

pairing : secret!agent mingyu x secret!agent reader, acquaintances stage. genre : fluff, angsty. warnings : mentions of injuries, treating wounds ( inaccurate forgive me🙏) mingyu ( he's a warning ).

a/n : the double update as promised hehe also the pic is not even related to the drabble but I just had to use it yk?? thank you to @etherealyoungk for feeding my delusions. also this got angsty quite quick 😭 ???( might do a summer fic with this mingyu hehehe ) pls I was also like naurr why is it so sad suddenly but eh it's fine. take this as some sort of teaser for the full secret agent mingyu fic I guess! and yes I will never get fed up of writing these two <3 let me know what you think of this mwah 💌

word count : 2.7k

“Are you fucking stupid?!?”

Silence enveloped the room as you asked in a voice laced with agitation.

It was all whispers of panic and chaos while you took in the scene in front of you, quiet and in your thoughts, but the more you thought of it, the more you got enraged.

“Do you even realise what could have happened?"

It seemed as though the wound on his chest was glaring at you as you spoke, unable to look away from it as it continued to bleed. You winced, frowning more as you shook your head.

Mingyu, on the other hand, like the true annoyance he was, blinked in surprise as he heard you cuss. It was rare you did, it was rare you talked actually, choosing to only answer in small replies.

Or maybe you just hated him because he swears he’s seen you not only talk but also laugh and giggle with Vernon and Chan, even Seungcheol!

He didn’t want to admit it before but now he can, he absolutely disliked the fact that you were more nonchalant to him than any other person. Was he the problem?

No, no negative thoughts right now. Perhaps you were just shy around him.

Right because a shy person would definitely be glaring at him with all the rage enough to just burn him with a gaze.

Who was he trying to convince? You hated him and for all he knew, he was just a nuisance in your life.

“Where’s Wonwoo?! Is Dr.Jeon not there?” You sat him down on the lounge chair in the agency building. It was supposed to mimic how an actual office building would be, hence they even did the extra and added the typical reception desk and waiting area at the ground floor.

Wonwoo? Since when were you on a first name basis with Wonwoo?

He frowned at that, he didn't want to admit it but it annoyed him just a little. Though. He did have other bigger problems right now.

Like the gash on his upper chest that was bleeding. But it seemed the adrenaline had dimmed down the pain. It felt more numb if anything.

“He-he left. I mean his shift is over there's no one—”

“How the fuck is there no other doctor on duty?! In a fucking place like this you'd expect at least one how—”

You pinched your nose and took a deep breath. You were on the verge of possibly killing someone.

Mingyu was bleeding and you needed to think.

“Seungkwan. Get me the first aid kit. Chan, go get some water. And you-”

You looked back at Mingyu in question,

“Can you walk?”

Instead of answering, he nodded curtly, not really wanting to provoke you than he already had. He knew when and where to speak up when he should. At least sometimes he did.

“Great, let's go to my room.”

[ A few moments later ]

Your office space was very…you. It was like a reflection of what he thinks you are.

Your artefacts, some polaroids with people in few and more so sceneries. It resembled a lot of you but also not enough to satisfy his curiosity. He wanted to know more.

He sat down on the sofa, a light pink coloured one, one that stood out in the monochrome room. But it was nice. It was pretty.

He also thinks you look pretty, even though you were tense, eyebrows scrunched as you cut the bandage tape precisely.

You look pretty all the time though.

“I'll need you to remove your shirt.”

Mingyu would love to hear so much from you, and wanted to hear you say so many things for him. This was one of them for sure, but definitely not in the circumstances he wishes.

“I-what? ” He chokes up, immediately sitting up from his leaned back position, one you forced him into when he came there.

You put down the bandage after you finished, looking at him with an eyebrow raised, now crossing your arms.

“How else do you want me to treat your wound?”

“You're-you’ll be treating it?”

“Does it look like there's anyone else right now who can? If you're scared, just trust me, I uh- I have experience from treating my own and others as well.”

You said it firmly because you realised the unsurety in his voice might be right. He didn't know that you knew basic first aid and actually more, it was a requirement for most agents but perhaps it was different here.

Mingyu did trust you. That wasn't what he doubted. He doubted himself, whether he'd be able to handle you touching him in any way. He's terrified he might pass out.

“Okay, now I'll need you to actually remove your shirt, I'll help if you-”

“NO!-uh no I'll do it myself.”

He immediately raised his hands and began unbuttoning, as the shirt got more loose, you focused on how the wound was.

It was a slice, not a stab luckily, so it wouldn't have caused as much damage as a stab would. But it still was damage that hurt.

He hissed in pain as his shirt moved away from his hurt chest, the wound being open to the air.

Slowly, he removed his other arm and finally got his blood soaked shirt out. He questioned where to put it without saying anything as he looked around but you just grabbed it and tossed it in the dustbin.

It was one of his favourites.

Seeing the slight pout on his face, you rolled your eyes because of course, Mingyu would find that to be an issue and not the fact that he was bleeding out.

“I'll get you another one.”

That made him look up at you, to which his eyes widened,

“Uh no I-”

“Shut up.”

You finished preparing the cotton to clean up his wound first, you turned to face him and for a brief moment you paused.

You didn't expect what was in front of you. Mingyu being shirtless was expected of course, but his toned torso and wait…were those abs??

You cleared your throat when you realised you might have been staring a little too long.

It wasn't like you weren't used to seeing people with muscular bodies or so. It was natural in your field for people to be fit.

But Mingyu. Holy shit, he looked like someone personally took their time on him.

“Uhm, okay so I'll just clean up your wound first and then disinfect it, then just bandage it up alright?”

Your voice sounded a lot less angry than before. Actually it sounded more timid if anything. It made Mingyu both shocked and curious as to why suddenly you'd seem so…nervous?

You moved to sit beside him, trying your best to not let your eyes waver more than they already have.

Unfortunately for you, fortunate for Mingyu, your eyes did wander and in fact lingered a little too long on his exposed chest. Along with his torso.

And he noticed.

And he realised.

Gulping slightly, no ordinary person would know but Mingyu did and the glint in his eyes shifted to something more confident, you raised your hand and gently began to clean the open wound.

It seemed it was not as deep as you initially thought.

Holy shit, I'm touching his chest.

You're not a teenager for goodness sake pull yourself together?!???

But his chest is buff and so- fuck. Fucking hell.

Your internal thoughts were in conflict as you cleaned up his wound, not even realising you were going over a place that was already cleaned.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed yours and you were startled out of your conflict.

“You already cleaned it enough,” Mingyu had to bite his tongue to not slip out any sort of pet names but that didn't stop the small smirk on his face from seeing your somewhat composed demeanour be a little thrown off by his sudden nakedness.

His hand holding yours made it seem like you were burning. It burned when he touched you.

And how would one react to a burn?

They'd move far away from the cause of said burn.

You pulled your hand out and stood up quickly,

“Right, right, I was just uh- making sure. I wouldn't want any infections or anything like that.”

You turned back to your first aid kit, turning your back on him and slightly shook your head.

Pull yourself together. He's just…a guy.

But was he really just any guy?

He was Kim Mingyu. The guy who caused you more stress than anything. The same guy who also would bother you a lot during missions.

And yet he was also the same guy who saved you today. You were ambushed during the mission and outnumbered.

It was you against six. You could handle them practically speaking but you also would have your attention split more than it should be. Meaning you wouldn't be prepared for a seventh guy from out of nowhere.

But Mingyu happened to be able to come there. On time too. As though he was keeping up with you despite being in another room with another problem.

What you didn't know was how quickly he made it out of that room when he heard you were ambushed. How he felt his heart drop when he heard you yelp in pain when you got attacked out of nowhere. How he couldn't actually care about the rest of the mission after that and what he cared about most was getting you out of there. Safely.

He knew perhaps it was risky to have jumped in front of you when you were going to get stabbed but darn it be him than you anytime.

Luckily you were also quick enough to make sure he wasn't actually stabbed and pushed him aside as you gained the extra hand and were able to take down the ambusher.

You were not at all happy with what he did. In fact, going as far as to not talking to him till you reached the agency because you were boiling in rage.

“You know you shouldn't have jumped in between like that.”

You said as you soaked up the cotton in hydrogen peroxide.

“But you would have gotten terribly hurt.” Mingyu frowned at your words. The doubt from before raising as to why you'd been so upset with him when he actually saved you.

“Yes but that would be my fault. I would get hurt in my own fight. I'd bleed and patch it up myself. There would be no one else hurt but me.”

You turned to face him, holding the cotton in your hand as you walked up again towards him.

“Not you who got hurt because of me. I wouldn't feel the…the guilt. You got hurt. Because of me.”

His eyes softened upon hearing your words. It made sense now. You were feeling guilty and that's why you'd been so upset. He thinks he'd feel the same too if you were to get hurt somehow because of him.

“I'm…I'm sorry I didn't think about that but I couldn't just sit back and let you get hurt knowingly, I just, I couldn't do that. Not to you.”

You sat back down to your original position, now having completely different emotions than before. But you weren't sure which you preferred because the current ones were only making you feel more worse if anything.

Lightly pressing the soaked cotton on his open wound, he hissed in pain as the alcohol came in contact with his open skin.

“It's fine Mingyu, you don't need to explain, I get it. I'd also do it. Thank you for…saving me.”

You don't need to thank me.I'd only do it for you though. I'd risk anything for you.

But instead he could only gasp in pain as you continued to clean,

“Yeah, what a time to say thank you when you're causing me only more pain.”

You rolled your eyes at his words but felt a little bad for him due to knowing the pain of hydrogen peroxide to an exposed wound.

“Oh, shut up now you big baby, this will help you.”

“Baby? Are we moving on to pet names now?”

“What??? I didn't- I didn't mean it that-”

“Oh I know, I was just messing with you.”

“You-!”

After a bit more cleaning and more arguing, you got up and grabbed the bandage.

“Now how will I wrap this?”

You questioned as you held it. He also got up, feeling a bit better but you still warned him not to move to much as the wound was not yet wrapped.

Then you got the idea of how to wrap it.

“Listen, what I'll do is wrap this around your entire chest, like the entire upper part alright? I don't have anything else besides this right now but it'll help temporarily. Tomorrow you go and get it properly dressed from Wonwoo.”

He nodded obediently and it was slightly cute as to how he almost resembled a little puppy quietly following instructions. Though you could see him getting tired from the way his eyes seemed to drift.

“I'll do it as quick as I can.”

And quickly you did, already wrapping over the wound enough,to the point Mimgyu had to tell you he felt like he couldn't breath and that's when you stopped.

No sign of blood.

You noted as you taped over the left over end part on the right side of his chest.

For this part, you were very close to him, to ensure the best precision. He was just glad it wasn't the left side of his chest or else you'd definitely feel how fast his heartbeat was going from the moment you got closer.

Mingyu likes you. Like really really likes you. You who stayed behind and treated his wound. You who felt guilty for him getting hurt for something he chose to do.

He thinks in this situation no matter how hurt he got, he was now sure about you. More specifically liking you.

“There. All done.” You patted down his chest lightly as you moved a little behind but before you could properly go, his hand out of nowhere held your own and pulled you closer.

It was unexpected so you couldn't help but stumble a bit as your eyes widened.

You were very close. Too close in fact you were sure if you moved a bit more closer, you might just end up kissing him.

It didn't seem like too bad of an idea.

“Mingyu, what are you doing?”

“I just, I want to tell you thank you for helping me out right now, properly.”

He smiled softly at you, his canines slightly peaking from beneath his closed lip smile and you swore you felt your body flush.

He looked…as handsome as he always did. Brown eyes shimmering in all sorts of emotions, lips a shade of pretty pink.

But you couldn't. You couldn't dare. Not now.

Clearing your throat, you pulled back and stepped behind, your body suddenly feeling a weird coldness from the sudden distance.

On the other hand, Minghu seemed confused. Did he push too far? He didn't mean to, he didn't want to rush anything, he just wanted to properly say thank you like actually say it and not do anything-

“It's alright. I hope you get better soon. I'll call Seungkwan to get you a shirt. You can get changed here. I'll just leave now, it's late anyways and you should to.”

“Have a goodnight agent Kim.”

Agent…Kim? Not even Mingyu?

Before he could even question your change of behaviour, you'd already moved out of your room as if you life depended on it.

As if you'd rather be anywhere but there.

As if you suddenly remembered your dislike towards him.

“Wait! Y/—”

Sighing out, in likely relief as you got out of your office, you made your way down to the lobby.

You couldn't help but feel the guilt, if not even more at how you left Mingyu just because you were a coward. Just because you didn't want to admit how he made you feel.

You couldn't do that to him. Not at this moment.

And perhaps you couldn't do that to him ever, for Kim Mingyu deserves the best.

And that was surely not you.

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[saerins]

─── 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄

+ sae x f!reader | wc 4.9k | content: angst, fluff, some making out, implied sex, stupid teenager phase

notes: sobs this was not supposed to be this long … one of y’all need to stop me from writing about this man !! i love him too much, pls send help </3 extra: this is the song playing in the last scene :’)

summary: sae has few interests, and one of them is you. but sometimes, being special just isn’t enough.

you’ve always been special.

ever since age three when your family moved across the street from where the itoshis lived. ever since age five when you finally gathered the courage to talk to the pair of brothers. ever since age six when sae invited you to play with him and rin. ever since age seven when you cried because someone bullied you at the playground and sae wiped away your tears. ever since age ten when both of you played with paper rings. ever since age eleven when you and sae would talk endlessly at night through the phone and get nagged at by your parents when they found out.

ever since age twelve when you told sae you’d watch him become the best soccer player in the world by his side.

your presence bleeds into sae’s life and he can’t think about anything without relating it to you; like how his breakfast tastes like ass when you’re not smearing your stupid peanut butter on it because apparently peanut better goes well with everything is your phase at that point of time. like how he’s walking home and he’ll always have to crane his head to the right just to check if you’re on your front porch swing, because if you are, he’ll wave and then you’ll smile and wave back, and sae would feel like it’s a special code you two share.

you’re probably the only thing he pays his spare attention to. and rin. you, rin, soccer. that’s all.

you complain way too much, especially at the fact that sae doesn’t smile often. he counters, “that’s none of your business.”

and you tell him one day you’ll be the reason he smiles everyday.

sae thinks it’s kind of stupid though, because you already are. you just aren’t around to see it. he’ll probably never let you see it too. he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he did.

it isn’t long before you’re age fifteen and graduating middle school and you’re excited to start high school. it didn’t really make a difference for sae, as long as he got to play soccer, he really couldn’t care less.

when you’re age sixteen you tell sae that a boy from class broke your heart because he didn’t accept your valentines’ chocolates. it was as good as a rejection, apparently. or whatever girl code says it is.

frankly, sae���s just offended. you’ve never given him any valentines’ shit. all of a sudden some no name guy is getting it?

maybe it’s true what people say, teenage girls cry over stupid things they consider love that’s not actually love. now you’re getting his soccer jersey wet with your tears and you’re crooning on and on about how boys suck but somehow sae’s still the best.

you’re sixteen and crying on sae’s shoulder, while he’s seventeen and wishing he could torture the son of a bitch who made you cry.

this is the closest you’ve ever been, physically. your heart’s not really broken because whoever you’re crying about has never really had it. but sae doesn’t know that.

teenage girls make really stupid decisions sometimes. and other times, they making stupid passing comments, like when you say “glad i didn’t let him kiss me. would suck for my first kiss to be with a dick who didn’t give a shit about me.”

sometimes teenage boys make stupid decisions too.

sae doesn’t really know what possesses him to do this, but he doesn’t stop it. he doesn’t stop his hand from reaching out to you, doesn’t stop his fingers from tilting your chin up. there’s only confusion in your eyes when he looks into them. there’s only hesitation in his.

sae’s not anything to you except for a childhood friend, and you’re not anything to him, except for one of the most beautiful people he’s ever met. that’s why he does this slowly, so you have time to stop this.

he has no right to do this. he wishes you would just stop him.

you’re both teenagers when sae becomes your first kiss, when your tears stain his cheeks and he tastes like the fruits he just ate. you’re both delirious off of the feeling, like neither of you want this to end because your lips stay connected even when you’re not moving, and your lashes are fluttering against one another’s and sae really wants to kiss you again.

but it’s late and your parents are probably the ones knocking on his door right now so he stops himself and pulls away while rin bounds down the stairs to open the door.

sae sees nothing but you, you and your pretty face and your pretty lips and your perfect perfect person.

“there, now your first kiss is with a dick who does care about you.”

it’s that same summer and you’ve forgotten all about the stupid boy that supposedly broke your heart. you have sae with you whenever he’s free, when he decides to bring you out after practice and explore rooftops to find the best view for the fireworks.

you’re not together, but it sure feels like you are.

then it’s autumn and the leaves are turning orange and red, and you swear you see sae’s cheeks and ears turn nearly the same shade when he holds your hand for the first time as you walk through the park, a white cat crossing in front of you.

sae blames it on his practice earlier and that he’s tired because there’s no way he’ll ever admit it’s because of you.

when winter comes, sae’s still taking care of you. nothing stops him from playing soccer, but nothing can stop him from finding you either. sae’s starting to regret his decisions when you force him to go ice skating and look at him expectantly whenever you see a mistletoe.

you’re a lot of work, maybe you’re worth it.

and then you kiss him again and he thinks yes, maybe he can do this. he can juggle soccer and you, it’ll magically work out.

finally it’s spring and you’re excited because you love the cherry blossoms, and sae thinks maybe he loves something else but he’s not going to go there yet. and while everyone’s watching the solar eclipse that one night, sae’s watching you.

for once, he wants to believe in superstitions, wants to believe what watching the solar eclipse means.

“what’s the matter?”

you’re always so perceptive. you’d make a great playmaker, he feels.

of course you pick up on the tension, barely a minute after you walk into his room. sae doesn’t want to ruin this, whatever this is, whether it’s love or something less, or maybe something more.

but it’s not a democracy, and the answer is crystal clear in sae’s mind. his answer’s always been the same, but it’s not like you don’t exist in his world.

“the club in spain gave me an offer.”

that’s all he needs to say to make you understand. and if you weren’t the most understanding person he knows, you might’ve reacted differently, but you’re still the same supportive, kind girl he met at age four.

“when do you go?” your voice is shaky and he knows you’re trying to hold it together.

sae’s sorry, really.

“next month.”

it’s not a lot of time, but probably enough to say goodbye. then you throw your arms around him and you work your magic, you say you want to try despite the distance, despite the unknown timeline. and who is sae if not someone who’d give it a try?

he’s not even sure he can ever say no to you.

it doesn’t seem real until the night before he leaves, because you’re eighteen and standing in his near barren room, everything already packed into boxes and loaded.

maybe it’s the fact he’ll be gone for a very long time, doesn’t know when he’ll see you again. maybe it’s the adrenaline rushing through his veins when he feels you pressed up against him. maybe it’s the fact he’s denying the depth of his feelings for you and it’s getting him frustrated.

or maybe it’s because he’s selfish and he doesn’t want anyone else to have you, just like how he gave you your first kiss.

he’s your first kiss, and he’ll be your first time, with your hands clawing at his clothes. and you’ll be his, with the way he’s grabbing onto your bare back so desperately.

you’re eighteen and you think nothing’s prettier than the sounds sae makes, especially when his lips are right next to your ear, with his hot breath fanning against you.

sae’s nineteen and he thinks you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, in all sense of the word. he thinks you look pretty in pink, still pretty when you wear nothing too.

and suddenly sae thinks that maybe it doesn’t feel so crazy to think that the both of you might make it through this.

long distance can work for some people. but sometimes it’s just meant to drive two people further away.

sae’s gaining momentum in europe, and you’re proud of him. you’re proud of your boyfriend, doing his best and showing off his talents and having his hard work pay off.

you’re really, genuinely happy for him. but the bigger of a star he is, the further away he feels, and maybe it’s selfish of you to want him here, to want him to be just your neighbour itoshi sae like how things started out.

maybe it’s selfish and wishful thinking, but you can’t help yourself.

sometimes sae doesn’t even have time to look at his phone. he’s tired and overwhelmed and understandably too. and you feel guilty everytime you subject him to your insecurities.

but you’re nineteen and you don’t know better.

rin’s not much fun to hang around with, especially when he got more stoic and awkward. he’s like a mirror of his brother, and that may fool a lot of people, except you knew him before that. but you’re not going to butt your head in things that don’t concern you, so you leave him be.

and suddenly the itoshis seem further away than they’ve ever been. for the first time in your life, you’re not sure if trying will be enough anymore.

sae misses you. that’s whenever he has the free time to think, when he’s not hounded by trainings after trainings, when he’s not busy from day to night with whatever new training regime they’ve got him on.

is he aware that he’s probably being the world’s worst boyfriend now? yes. but sae can’t force himself to choose that over his dreams. can’t force himself not to choose soccer.

[17:08] she’s fine, idk what you’re worried about.

rin’s message doesn’t alleviate his worries. sae knows you better than anyone, and he doesn’t believe you’re fine.

[08:08] hey sae :)

[17:34] going to bed now, gn!! &lt;3

sae stares at your message for a while in the locker room, while everyone else is showering. you’ve cooled off on the pet names, you’re worried you’re overstepping. you’re worried he’s lost his feelings.

he’s not.

he’d be crazy to.

but he can’t find the energy to convince himself that this would turn out fine. he can’t convince himself that he’s not hurting you every single day by not being able to be everything you need, by not being able to be physically there for you.

this half-assed relationship isn’t what you deserve. and where he is right now, with his bird’s eye view of the world, he doesn’t know if he can ever give you anything else.

[17:49] goodnight. call you tomorrow.

the moment sae breaks up with you, you feel like that kid at sixteen all over again, except this time you don’t have your favourite person’s shoulder to cry on and this time it’s actually love.

all you can think of when you hear him pick up the phone is that morning right before he left for the airport, how his hair’s a mess and how his lashes are way too pretty and how he sounded when he’s all groggy and tired.

but then he tells you the one thing you do not want to hear, and the illusion is shattered into pieces.

“this isn’t working out.”

“what are you talking about?” he’s silent, and you’re anxious. “we’re fine, sae.”

you can hear him sighing over the phone. you so desperately want to fix this, and so does sae but he can’t think of anything more selfish than to ask you to wait for him until he’s ready—he knows what’s the right thing to do. it sucks, but he’s made up his mind.

“that’s bullshit, y/n,” he responds, calmly, and you feel him slipping further and further from you.

“i- look, i-i know it’s hard but we can—”

“give it a break, woman,” sae chuckles, low and deep, and you’re beginning to doubt that you know him at all right now. “we’re done.”

the dial tone is all you can hear after that.

twenty years old is where you have your first actual heartbreak.

and all that talk about how time heals all feels like bullshit when you’re right in the middle of it all. five days in and you’re still a wreck. twenty days later and you’re still staring at the pictures you and sae took together. a month passes and you’re visiting the places you went to together. just a sad, pathetic girl crying on the benches, reliving what she once had.

three months later you’re still watching his matches on tv. you’re still cheering for him inside. four months later and it’s sae’s birthday and he doesn’t even respond to your birthday message. half a year after the breakup and you finally stop crying when you think of him.

but it’s easy to delude yourself when you’re not in the presence of what you grieve. because eight months after you broke up, you see reports that sae’s dating a sports photographer. the next few days, a picture is released of them kissing in a restaurant.

then you get glimpses of other girls being able to be intimate with him. other girls getting to taste his lips and feel his love. other girls getting his attention when that right used to solely belong to you.

and you’ve never felt worse.

“why so glum?”

sae blinks at the woman, indifferent. he can’t even remember her name.

“nadia,” she says, like she’s reading his goddamn mind, holding her hand out. “i’ve been your team’s photographer for a few months now.”

sae shakes her hand out of courtesy because he really doesn’t want his publicist to chew him out again. “didn’t ask.”

“you know, you’re a lot more crabby these days,” she comments, and it’s like he can see the lightbulb going off in her head. “oh, is it girlfriend issues?”

“i don’t have one, so shut it.”

“come on, i promise i’m good at making people forget.” she says this so seductively that sae’s a little disturbed. he just wants to get this shoot done with and go home, maybe even check up on you a little. all in incognito mode, of course, because he can’t risk you knowing he still cares. can’t risk getting your hopes up.

somehow the stars have spent all their time aligning sae’s soccer career and everything else is in tatters because his publicist forces him to take nadia up on her offer and go out with her.

what was supposed to be a one time thing turned out to be something more. she wasn’t even close to you, but she could be close. turns out when he’s not being such a dick, nadia can be moderately interesting.

different, maybe that’s what he needs.

he thinks back to when she kissed him on their first date. sae still finds himself hoping you didn’t see that.

but no, he’s not in love with you anymore. sae’s officially an adult at twenty-one and he’s still the same stubborn guy in denial because he’s looking at pictures of you while nadia’s sitting right next to him.

it’s not healthy, it really isn’t.

you’re twenty-one now and you’re actually going on a date with the sole intention of trying to get over the one and only itoshi sae.

can you even trust your friend? all you know is that the guy is a friend of a best friend’s and that’s all she told you.

“my best friend’s a good guy, so by extension, so is his best friend,” was all she said.

now you’re here, at the amusement park, waiting for your date to show himself because apparently, in your friend’s bid for suspense, she was reluctant to share anything about him except that he’s dreamy and pretty and that his friend describes him as a genius.

and also “oh, he’s a soccer player too so that’s right up your alley, right?”

when the call from date guy comes in (because to stop you from profiling your date she also didn’t give you his name), you kind of like his voice.

“hey, where are you?”

you find out his name is nagi. and that he’s only here because reo stole his switch and he won’t give it back until the date’s over. which kind of works because you tell him you’re only here because you wanted to get over someone.

to which he says it’s a hassle.

there’s nothing you expect out of this, but then you find yourself enjoying your date.

it’s clear by the first fifteen minutes why nagi chose this place to meet. he’s absurdly good at games. he’s won you tons of plushies that you had to give away to some very happy kids. it’s a pattern; every game that he doesn’t know, he only loses once and then he proceeds to dominate.

no wonder his friend calls him a genius.

with nagi it’s easy, fluid. you’ve been spending the whole night there with him, playing together and eating together—well, mostly it’s just you feeding nagi because it turns out he finds a lot of things a hassle.

three days later, you find out that apparently you’re not a hassle in his books. not really, because he asks you out again.

it’s irrational.

sae shouldn’t be this bothered, but he is. he hates seeing your stupid updates about how you’re on a date with this nagi guy. he hates seeing your posts with the two of you wearing matching sweaters for christmas.

he gives it a like.

nadia’s already gone. sae doesn’t have time or energy to waste on people that don’t matter. and you shouldn’t matter. not right now. but here he is, wishing the circumstances were different.

if you and nadia switched places. if you had something to bring you to spain. it’s fucking selfish, he knows. doesn’t stop him from wishing for it. he can’t think of anyone else like how he thinks of you. doesn’t want to.

he really is clueless about everything outside of soccer, because he’s twenty-two when he realises that no one could ever make him forget about you, and maybe he should just live with it.

sae turns twenty-three when he’s in the running for being the world’s best midfielder. he’s gotten rid of the hopes of moving on and he’ll just fake it till he makes it.

maybe that’s why this year is particularly special to him. or maybe it’s because for the first time in a long while, you wish him happy birthday.

at midnight, in japan. because you’re thoughtful that way.

this time he responds.

thanks. how r u?

it’s criminal how easy it is for you to get his heart beating like this. he sees you typing and it’s enough to lift his mood.

great, school’s kicking my ass though.

sae finds himself wishing that he could hear your voice right now. for some stupidly non-complex reason that he finds completely absurd.

i saw your match last week, good game, genius.

fuck. after all this time, he still wants you.

his fingers type i miss you, just for the hell of it. just to see it there on his screen before he inevitably deletes it and replaces it with something mediocre like thanks or i know.

because he can’t just say that after being the one who broke things off. he can’t do that when he still thinks it won’t work out.

all he does is sigh and hit the delete button—except fuck, he accidentally hit send. and he would’ve deleted it if you weren’t already online and read it and he sees you typing for a moment before you stop completely and go offline.

sae has never felt more numb.

it’s been three months since sae said he missed you. you still can’t get that out of your head. the most upfront he’s been about his feelings and he chooses then of all times to be honest?

when your boyfriend was right beside you?

maybe it was your fault. you didn’t even know why you wished him a happy birthday. maybe you missed him too and was just lying to yourself.

god, maybe you’re the asshole in this after all. did you really love nagi? or was he just exceptionally well at making you forget? you really really like him, that’s all you know.

“hey, what’s wrong?” nagi’s looking at you, pushing his hair back, and you can’t help but think you’re lucky to have him these past few months.

but the turmoil inside you wins, and maybe you understand a little bit of how sae felt that night when he broke up with you.

it’s not fair to nagi for you to do this, but it’s not fair to him either to keep him around.

“we need to talk.”

it’s a surreal feeling, to be back in japan.

sae was nineteen when he left. now he’s twenty-seven when he breathes the tokyo air again. he lugs around his carry-on baggage because he’s not staying here for long. not yet. he’s coming back soon, and he doesn’t really know why. he’s milked everything he could from spain, from the rest of europe, some of the americas, and maybe he’s homesick now.

plain and simple.

the cab driver asks him why he looks so sharp, and he simply says, “wedding.”

it’s been seven years since he broke up with you. and your grip on him is as firm as ever. a grip he’ll never let you know you have on him because he’s made this mistake before—said i miss you and then scared you away.

by the next day he couldn’t even find you online because everything is wiped and maybe you hate him, hate his guts. that’s fine. he can live with that.

to him, you’re still the same lovable person as you were at age five. still the same girl at age sixteen that he fell in love with. you’re still his person and it’s fine if he has to just admire you from afar.

when he arrives, he takes a long hard look around the room, filled with guests socialising and drinking their wines and it’s so pathetic but he’s wondering if you’re still around. he’s late, and it’s his plane’s fault but it’s no use playing the blame game.

“hey,” rin calls out when he sees his brother. “you missed the ceremony.”

“yeah, stupid plane got delayed,” sae says, mind still distracted.

rin formally introduces his new wife to sae and she seems nice, polite, the kind that can put his brother in his place if she needs to. that’s nice. sae can’t help envisioning you in the wedding dress though. you’d look nice.

nicer if he was the one beside you.

“oh! as a gift to my now brother-in-law, i have a friend i want to set you up with,” she grins, and as much of an ass that sae is, he just figures he’ll reject the poor girl later. for now, he’ll entertain his new sister-in-law.

rin claps him on the shoulder before smirking and walking off, presumably to get a drink because no matter how much rin has changed, sae doubts he’ll ever become friendly enough to mingle in this crowd.

sae feels someone poking his shoulder and turns around, first to find his sister-in-law grinning from ear to ear, and next to find you next to her, just like he remembers.

pretty in pink, stupid bashful smile, still fucking beautiful.

“have fun,” rin’s wife says before she walks off with a knowing look. she’s already winning points with sae for bringing you to him.

“hey, genius,” you try to suppress your smile but it’s not working.

he thinks he’s dreaming. he’s not. he’s here. and so are you. and this might just be what he missed all this time.

you hold your hand out and he takes it wordlessly, obediently. sae follows you to the dance floor, trying to calm his erratic heartbeats, savouring the feeling of your hand in his once again, remembering that moment back in autumn when he first felt it.

when you wrap your hands around his neck and he wraps his around your waist, it feels like finally, something is real. like there’s something in this country that can really keep him here this time. because now he’s twenty-seven and he finally understands, he’s always loved you but he’s never been ready until now.

“can’t believe you let your brother get married before you,” you say, sarcasm because you’re breaking into a grin. “he actually beat you at something.”

sae pouts slightly, averting his gaze. “what’s the big deal anyway?”

you shrug. “i’d have thought you’d be the first. maybe with one of the girls you met abroad or something.”

there’s a certain bitterness in your tone that he likes, only because it means you minded all this time. the thought of him with someone else. he suddenly remembers something, and searches the room for a familiar face.

gray eyes meet his teal ones before they turn away, disinterested.

“you sure your boyfriend won’t mind you dancing with your ex?”

“probably not, since i don’t have one.” you smirk, sensing the bitterness in his tone too. it’s funny, seeing sae jealous like this.

he has no reason to though, since you broke up with nagi after being honest with yourself—that you’re not over sae and you probably never will be. you’d decided to just live with your decision.

“shame. thought you guys looked cute in those matching sweaters.”

so that was a jealous like, you think to yourself.

“thought you looked cute with that sports photographer girl too, kissing and all,” you say, though it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “why didn’t that work out?”

for the first time in his life, sae decides to be outright honest with you—

“because she’s not you.” because everytime she said his name, he’d overlay it with your voice in his head. because everytime she’d tried to get close, he’d resent her more for not being you. because no matter how hard anyone tries, they will never be you and that will never work, not for sae.

—to a certain degree.

he’s twenty-seven when he’s finally old enough to understand that it was never a problem with feelings because he’s always loved you all the same all this time. it was just a matter of being ready at the right time. it’s like luck in the world of soccer, where coincidences can only fall to those who are prepared.

and he’s here now. he’s ready.

call him crazy for thinking you’re on the same page because you’re getting closer and closer and closer.

“itoshi sae,” you whisper his name against his lips and he’s reminded of the first time he had you. you drive him crazy and he thinks he’ll keep on letting you. “i missed you too.”

you did. you used to be too young and inexperienced to put yourself in sae’s shoes. too young and naive thinking emotions were enough for two people to stay. sometimes, some things just aren’t meant to be… in the moment. and other times, when you’re both ready, everything suddenly falls into place.

you were sixteen when sae first kissed you. now ten years later, ten years wiser, you kiss again, and this feels significantly better than before. because now you both know.

sae has known you ever since you were three. and he thinks he’ll keep on knowing you, every day, every hour, every minute. he wants to know you forever. and he’s thinking maybe that superstition worked out after all. maybe it was destined to be like this all along.

two people coming together and falling apart only to end up in each other’s arms.

and he thinks fuck superstition, fuck the white cats and solar eclipses and everything else. even if things threaten not to work, this time he’ll make it work.

sae’s known you for so long he overlooked one simple thing. when he kisses you even deeper and is greeted with your lips smiling against his, he knows.

he hasn’t become the world’s best soccer player yet, but when he does, you’ll be by his side.

one day those paper rings the both of you played with when you were little would be real.

you’ve always been special, and you always will be.

now he’s finally home.

[kooktrash]

summer bummer, baby | jeon jungkook [1 of 2]

summary: summertime is supposed to be a time of easy living and that’s what you were hoping for when you signed up for an extra credit program cleaning up the shores of Busan and staying in a luxurious beach house. what you didn’t sign up for was to live with Jungkook, a failed talking stage who you’ve avoided for the past few months. despite having a slight disliking toward each other you find yourselves be by pulled back into each other throughout your stay. the only question that remains is if this is just going to be a summer thing or something more.

TWO PART SERIES

➢ genre/au: enemies to lovers/beach read. jungkook x y/n [afab she/her]

➢ 12.6k words

warnings: soft e2l. smüt with plot. beach foreplay. handsy sunscreen scenes. oral [f and m]. händjob. cünnilingus [face sitting] heavy makeout and groping. jealous jk. jealous y/n. jk is a soft tsundere [v antisocial and cold except to y/n —mostly]. love bites. jk almost gets into a fight over y/n. y/n meets jk’s family. future smüt

What started as excitement had turned to complete disgust the second your eyes locked with his but it is at least fair to say that he’s feeling the same.

It was supposed to be a summer at the beach spending your days in a summer house and meeting hot guys, not spending two months with the biggest asshole you’ve ever met. You aren’t even sure how exactly this happened but you do know that you should have prepared for the worst. You were in the same environmental science class, for fuck’s sake. You both knew about this summer job but because you refused to speak to each other you didn’t know you would actually be living together.

“Alright, Professor Choi’s been kind enough to rent out his beach house to you all for the summer,” your student-teacher Jin, started speaking once the charter bus came to a stop in beach suburbia, “I understand you’re all adults but let’s not forget the reason you’re here. This is being sponsored by the University and there is zero tolerance for misbehavior so let me go over some rules.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you stared out the window hearing your professor list off rules.

‘No parties—outside guests are allowed but not past capacity.’

‘No illegal substances permitted whatsoever, no destruction of property unless you’re ready to pay for whatever is broken out of pocket.’

‘If you miss a shift, provide a notice at least three hours prior and if you miss too many back to back you’ll pay your own trip back to Seoul and there will automatically be a deduction in your attendance record as part of the credit program.’

“Wow, this is school away from school, how am I supposed to get laid in this quick paced environment?” Jimin joked as he nudged Jungkook’s arm playfully. He barely reacted as he stared out the window waiting for the moment to get out of this hot bus.

“Yes Mr. Park, that’s the point,” Jin said, sending him a glare, “You’re here because you applied to get extra credit, not a vacation for you to get ‘laid’.”

Jimin lifted a hand to his forehead as if saluting the professor and it made Jungkook crack a smile when he rolled his eyes and continued.

“Mr. Kim! Question,” another student, Hoseok, raised a hand, “So if we were to want to… get laid? Can we do that in the house or do we gotta do it on the beach? Or is it absolutely prohibited to de-stress after a hard day’s work picking up trash?”

An eruption of light laughter filled the bus as the student-teacher’s eye twitched in annoyance. Even you managed to laugh a little at that guy’s fair question. The student-teacher only glared at him, “Get off the bus, I’m tired of you all.”

“Wanna room together?” The girl you’ve spent the last four hours on the back of a bus asked as everyone began to line up to get off. You’re actually kind of surprised Sora would want to room with you after how awkward you’ve been. To be fair, you’ve done very little talking since this morning when you arrived at campus waiting for the shuttle bus and spotted no other than Jeon Jungkook, that was enough to ruin your mood. So it took you by surprise that she still wanted to room with you. With that in mind, you gave a subtle nod to her question and she smiled.

You both joined the others outside trying to get your suitcases out but you refused to get closer. Jungkook was one of the ones helping everyone get the luggage out of the compartment on the side of the bus you weren’t going to get close to him—except till he pulled out your suitcase looking around to see who would take it. Your eyes met as you practically snatched it out of his hands without a thank you and turned away.

Jungkook was more annoyed than he let on. He didn’t even look fazed by the fact that you were coming, acting indifferent but inside he was punching the air. He’s had to spend two semesters with you and now he can’t even catch a break over the summer? He gets that this was some extra credit program but why did you have to be here? It’s not that he completely hates you, it's just awkward.

The two of you had a failed talking stage a couple months back because you were both too flakey and immature. Since then it’s just been annoying to see each other. You texted enough to know a good amount about each other and that’s why it’s so weird, nothing ever came out of your talking so now anytime you see each other it’s just a reminder that you’re practically strangers who know too much about each other.

“I’m so happy we’re gonna be living with hot girls this summer,” Jimin whispered once they passed Jin as he unlocked the front door. It was a large white house with light beige accents like the doors, garage, trimming, etc. It also had large glass windows and it was just huge, like a scene out of a movie.

There were eight of you in total and aside from you, Jungkook didn’t know the others that well. He’s met the three other guys a couple times but not enough to be close friends with them. They all attended different lecture times for the same class so it makes sense that he’s not familiar with everyone else and on top of that the ‘supervisor’ here is the student teacher who’ll be staying in the guest house just next door all on his own so he doesn’t even count.

Despite being in college there are still rules in this house—it’s your professor’s beach house after all—and it’s Jin’s job to make sure everything happens smoothly. He’s practically a babysitter who directed you all down the halls of your bedrooms.

Jungkook didn’t mind the rules and the place was big enough that he could find a private spot for himself but he did have to find a roommate and his best luck is Jimin, so it’s best he plays nice.

“I guess,” was all he said in response to Jimin’s statement following everyone else into the house. The place was amazing and everyone clearly thought so, Jungkook now knew what his tuition money was used for at least.

The interior of the house looked like a typical modern style with light color and there were four bedrooms but only three will be used for all eight students. It sounded cramped but the bedrooms were huge and the girl’s room was specifically split into two separate rooms that were connected by a bathroom and large closet they could all share. The boys had two separate bedrooms but much smaller and aside from the two rooms there was an entertainment room too. Overall, the house was amazing and that’s without going into detail about the main level.

Once everyone had split to unpack their bags is when the real conversations started.

“Why are they all so hot?” One of the girls, Mirae, started saying. All four of you were all in the vanity area unpacking your things in the closets.

“My favorite is Jimin,” Sora pointed out as she took out folded clothes from her suitcase, “But I’ll admit Jungkook is really fucking hot.”

“I agree, he’s not usually my type but it’s hard to ignore a guy that looks like that,” The fourth girl, Jia, said with a laugh. Great, you thought, feed the guy’s ego even more.

“What about you, Y/n? Anyone you think is hot?” Sora asked but you only shrugged.

“I haven’t gotten a good look at them.”

You were tired of this conversation and so was Jungkook, who was having an awfully similar one.

“Come on, you’ve got to think at least one of these girls is hot,” Hoseok said as they all gathered in Jungkook and Jimin’s bedroom. It’s the third time they’ve asked Jungkook what he thinks about you and the others but he hasn’t said anything.

He’s not going to tell them the hottest person is you and he’s got two reasons for it. One, he’ll never admit that he’s physically attracted to you ever again, second, if he says it he has no doubt in his mind that the guys will bring it up around you. Yeah it’s awkward and he dislikes you slightly but he’s also not blind. You’re his type and even if he has a distaste toward you that doesn’t change your looks.

“They’re okay,” he said with a simple shrug as he tried paying his attention on unpacking his clothes while the others talked.

“Well Y/n is hot,” the fourth guy, Jisoo, spoke up from his seated position on the floor next to his roommate, Hoseok.

“Yeah, I agree,” Jimin said, adding on to the conversation happening around Jungkook as he focused on what he was doing instead. Hoseok made sure to tell everyone he thought the same and the only one who stayed quiet was Jungkook.

For the first night you and Jungkook were able to avoid each other well enough to not have to speak to each other once. Jin had gone out of his way to buy the first round of groceries for the house and you all went out for dinner. When you came back you went straight to your room knowing tomorrow you would have to start working.

𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ

It was basically a paid school trip for you all. The main reason why you did it was for the extra credit but living on a beach for two months and getting paid for it wasn’t so bad. Your professor had proposed the idea to all of his class hours months ago. It was part of some project to keep oceans clean and he was a part of a few nonprofit organizations that did things like this but this time around you would be paid. You weren’t going to be making a crazy amount of money but enough to support yourselves while here for two months.

He made it a blind raffle sort of thing where everyone who applied for the program got put into a raffle that one of the board members would choose and you still find it bizarre that both you and Jungkook managed to get chosen.

Now you’re both waiting in the living room for Hoseok to come downstairs so the three of you could go to your first shift of the week.

“Okay, I’m here! I couldn’t find my sunglasses,” Hoseok said as he stood at the bottom of the stairs, “Are we walking or driving?”

“Doesn’t matter,” both you and Jungkook said at the same time.

“Let’s driving then, who wants to driv—“

“Me.” Once again you said it at the same time and it was hard to ignore now as you glared at each other.

“Jungkook can drive,” you gave in and said. Despite living on the beach the section you were at was more secluded than where the public usually stayed near the boardwalk. Your professor worked with beach organizers and that’s how you all got the jobs for the summer and today was your first day.

The organizer explained what you would be doing today and it was fairly easy. You would be picking up trash, setting out chairs or umbrellas, making sure no wildlife that appears on shore gets interrupted by beach goers.

You were trying to set the umbrellas up right now since it was early enough that not that many people were here yet and it let you all do morning duties first. Jungkook stood behind watching the way the wind picked up the ends of your hair and smacked it back into your face with a little smug smile. He could tell you were getting flustered but he just finished setting out chairs with Hoseok so he was taking a little break.

“Oh my god,” you groaned in frustration, flipping your hair out of your face for what felt like the billionth time, trying to get this stupid pole to click into place. Behind you, you could hear a little chuckle and immediately you turned to glare at the culprit—or culprits.

“You should’ve worn your hair up,” Hoseok joked as he came to help you but Jungkook stayed behind still laughing a little. You rolled your eyes as you let him take over watching Jungkook come over to help too.

“I don’t have a hair tie,” you told him, “And you guys have watched me struggle and just now decided to help?”

“It was funny,” Jungkook muttered, making you scoff. Of course the first thing he says to you is about how funny it was to watch you struggle. Up close now you had to force yourself to look at his face only but when he’s wearing a blue t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and the beach’s name displayed on the front it was hard to look anywhere but at his tattooed arm. You understand why all the girls are thirsting for him and at one point you did too.

“Funny?” You questioned.

“That’s what I said,” Jungkook told you as he and Hoseok finished what you couldn’t do. You didn’t pull your gaze away from his because that’s what he wanted and you were set on making him look away first. Neither one of you said anything and he knew it was because you were biting your tongue.

“Your face is funny,” you finally said immediately regretting it after how immature it made you sound. He was just annoying you. He didn’t talk to you at all yesterday and today he had the nerve to laugh when you were clearly struggling? There were tons of things you could’ve said instead that wouldn’t make him laugh like he is now.

Jungkook raised a questioning brow as he stood in front of you, having to look down now, “You can do better than that, say what’s on your mind.”

If you really wanted to say what was on your mind you would be here forever. You could start with the fact that he’s arrogant and an asshole. You could say that it’s not fair that he basically put all the blame on you for why you didn’t go out. You could point out that he thinks he’s better than everyone and that he feels like he could do whatever he wants which is so annoying. You could say that the reason you bailed on your first date is because you saw him with another girl the night before. You could tell him that every time he looked at you in class you would get annoyed looking at his stupid pretty face—but you won’t. You won’t say any of that because you have to live with him for two months.

You’re not sure how either of you had become so blissfully unaware of the third party there as Hoseok’s eyes darted between you two like he was watching a game of ping pong. He was just a little confused and so he asked, “Are you two into each other or something? I’m sensing a lot of sexual tension here. Like a little hatefuck moment.”

“What the fuck!” Jungkook nearly choked on his own spit as he took a huge step away from you, “No, we’re not. We just—it’s not what you think. I, Y/n—we, we don’t like each other.”

Hoseok lifted a suspicious brow before letting a smile adorn his face, “Alright I get it. You loathe each other—but you could’ve fooled me.”

“Whatever,” you muttered under your breath, turning away from them so they wouldn’t see the way your face flushed like Jungkook’s.

Jungkook watched you move to sit under the umbrella reaching into your bag for a bottle of sunscreen. You poured some into your palm before running it over the length of your thigh. You wore the tiniest pair of denim shorts he’s ever seen and a blue shirt like his but more fitted. He could see your bikini top straps peeking out from the neckline and he wondered what kind of bathing suit you had on underneath.

Your legs looked so smooth and the way you had them posed in front of you had his eyes following the way your hands caressed them.

He didn't realize how engrossed he was in watching you until a flying object came and hit his shoulder, hard. Jungkook whipped around rubbing at where he was hit, “What the fuck?”

“You look like you needed some,” Hoseok said as he nodded toward where you were, clearly catching Jungkook sort of checking you out. With a smack of his lips in annoyance Jungkook picked the bottle off the sand and looked back to you to make sure you didn’t see that.

You glared at both of them catching Jungkook’s eyes again and lifted a middle finger at him. With a roll of his eyes he flipped you off and turned away, you just annoyed him.

The rest of your shift went without a hitch and you needed a desperate shower after but Hoseok had other ideas. When you got back to the house he proposed a beach day and with the sun beating down on your back you did not turn down getting in the salt water.

“People are disgusting,” you had told Sora when you all headed back down to the beach for a swim, “They will literally litter anything, no wonder our oceans are polluted.”

“So you basically just picked up trash?” She asked as you both shimmied out of your shorts.

“Mostly,” you told her, tugging off your shirt, “It wasn’t bad and there were so many hot guys on the beach.”

“Like Jungkook?” Sora asked, pointing in his direction as he headed down to the shore, already letting his toes sink into the wet sand, feeling the tide rush toward him. You looked at him for a moment seeing him without a shirt and it was clear he’s updated his workout regime since the last time you talked about it months back.

But who cares?

𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ

Jungkook was able to ignore you for the most part. Aside from the first day at work he hasn’t really seen you too much. You both have only worked twice since then and because you’re on a set rotation to make sure everyone works the same amount, you haven’t seen each other that much.

Not that he minds, it’s just something he’s noticed.

He doesn’t pay attention to everything you do but you’ve got a weird relationship, alright? Of course you’ve spent the last couple of months avoiding each other but there’s a very valid reason for that.

The first time the two of you talked, you completely hit it off. You had been assigned to do a project together in the same class as the one where you joined this summer camp for. You met up in the library mostly, but you had this light banter that would go on between you that was clearly flirty, it wasn’t until after presenting your research on the destruction of the Ozone layer that you really started texting.

You were talking all the time and sometimes the conversations would drift a little too far into dating territory and you just realized you were different in some ways. Jungkook likes texting all the time whereas you could go hours without responding. He’s been in about the same amount of relationships as you and you both had been in that hook up only phase. When you did decide to try going on a date the first time he flaked but it wasn’t intentional. He had to work that night and had completely forgotten that when he agreed on a date.

The second time, you both sort of flaked after attempting to reschedule the first one. He’s not sure if you had gotten fed up with trying to find an available time to get drinks but it just wasn’t working out. You both had finally decided on a Saturday but when the day came neither of you said anything. He had been waiting for you to reach out first since he had been blowing up your phone about it the night before. You had been waiting for him to reach out first and confirm the plans since he’s the one who canceled last time. Clearly neither one of you put in the effort to make it happen so it never did.

Then, the final time you attempted to get drinks together was about three weeks later. After the second time you cut back on how much you talked but when you got back to talking like normal and set a date you ended up blowing him off completely. You didn’t even show up so clearly he was bothered by that enough to ask you about it.

You had a tiny argument over it and it just made you both realize that if it was this hard to go one just one date then you clearly weren’t working for each other and that pursuing anything past a friendship wasn’t going to happen. Of course that then made the friendship itself awkward and in the end you avoided each other.

Now he’s stuck in a house with other guys with one who seems to be clearly interested in knowing more about you.

“I’m just saying,” Jisoo said as all four guys sat outside on the deck facing the beach, “Y/n is hot, like mysterious hot since she doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“She talks to Jungkook,” Hoseok pointed out, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

“That’s because we have class together,” Jungkook said, trying not to give out too much information. He doesn’t need any of them asking questions. Besides, it’s only been a week, how do they expect you to be cool with everyone right away? He’s not defending you, he’s just being realistic, plus Hoseok is still going based off what he saw the first day of work.

“Really?” Jisoo asked, “Are you guys friends? I haven’t seen you guys talk? Did you guys date or something? It seems like you hate each other, tell me something about her.”

“Jesus,” Jimin laughed, “Obsessed much?”

Jisoo groaned, “I can’t help it. She’s so hot, have you seen her in those bikinis?”

Jungkook felt his jaw clench but he hid the action behind a glass bottle of beer as he muttered, “You’re not her type.”

“What?” Jisoo asked, clearly catching what he said. Jungkook just looked him over with a shrug, “I said you’re not her type.”

“So what is?”

Me.

… is what he would have said if he was crazy. It’s not like he’s wrong, when the two of you were talking you had tons of conversations about ideal types and how you fit each other’s even though it didn’t work out. Aside from his looks you liked that he had a sense of humor but never pushed it too far. You liked that he was calm but also knew how to get loud and have fun. You liked that he was able to have serious talks with you along with lighthearted ones. You had the same sense of humor, even similar MBTIs, so yeah, he’s still your type even if there are no feelings anymore.

Jisoo? He’s loud, obnoxious, arrogant, and rude—all of the things you can’t stand. Jungkook wouldn’t be surprised if you already had a disliking toward the guy after one week of knowing him, but it’s not like it matters to him.

So, once again he shrugged his shoulders looking off to the beach to avoid giving Jisoo an answer he wouldn’t like. He knows he’s probably getting on the guy’s nerves but he couldn’t care less. He already annoyed him enough by hearing Jisoo talk about your body and looks since the first day so he doesn’t care if the guy knows he doesn’t like him.

Like he said earlier, Jungkook doesn’t care much about you anymore but he does care that Jisoo can so freely say whatever he wants about you and expect Jungkook to help him out with you.

Fed up with Jisoo’s attempt at locker room talk, Jungkook stood abruptly and went through the glass sliding door to the living room. Just then, you and the others came through the front door holding grocery bags. His brows scrunched in curiosity as you all came in holding bags when he thought you were supposed to be having a spa day.

You walked past him to set the bags on the kitchen counter with the others when Jia came up to him with a huge smile. She felt so utterly blessed to be able to walk through the front door and find Jungkook standing there shirtless in just his swimming trunks and his hair half-up in a ponytail. She would like to thank the beach gods for this gorgeous view of a man. It didn’t matter to him that she was checking him out but that’s because his eyes went to you.

“What did you guys bring?” He asked and before you could answer, Jia was doing it for you.

“Oh! Since it’s the first Friday and we have the night free we thought it’d be cool to grill tonight and do a bonfire on the beach, then tomorrow go out drinking,” Jia said, making you scoff.

“If Jungkook doesn’t flake.”

Low blow, you know but since the first day at work he’s just been irking you. He’s just always watching you like he has something to say and you just want him to spit it out.

Jia watched the way he rolled his eyes and it was clear to her that you two weren’t very fond of each other. At least that was one less person in this house she had to worry about liking Jungkook. His tongue poked against his cheek in annoyance as he glared at you unpack the bags, “Don’t worry Jia, I would never make plans with everyone only to blow them off without saying a word. I’m better than that.”

This time you looked up glaring at him because why is he acting oblivious? He knew the reason why. He thought he could play you by going out clubbing with some girl the night before and expect you to still want to go out with him the next night? Yeah, the third failed attempt at a date was a miss because of you but he was obviously the reason why.

You were lucky that Jisoo came through the sliding door right then and there that you didn’t feel the need to respond to Jungkook’s snide remark. He flashed you a warm smile, “I heard we’re grilling tonight.”

Mirae and Sora were outside telling the rest of the boys the plan and when Jisoo saw you in here with Jungkook, of all people, he had to interrupt. It’s the summer and he’s looking for a hot fling so who better than you?

You gave him a girlish smile, “We are, can you teach me how to prep the meat?”

Immediately he went to join your side, “Only because you asked so nicely.”

Jungkook released a scoff in disbelief as he left the kitchen to go back outside, making sure to slide the door a little too hard.

𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ

It’s been two weeks now and Jungkook still can’t stand the sight of you, or no, he can’t stand the pretty sight of you.

Now that everyone’s more comfortable around each other you’ve all become very open and he can tell that just by what you wore to work today. You wore your bikini bottoms that huffed your curves perfectly and a small t-shirt with the beach’s name displayed over where your breasts were. Your hair was all over the place again and he wanted to give you the hair tie he always carried on his wrist now but he couldn’t. Not when you’re standing there flirting with some random guy.

“Taehyung, and you?” He said as he extended a hand out for you to shake.

“Y/n,” you said with a flirty smile. He’s the first guy to approach you at work that was actually hot. He had been in the middle of a volleyball game with his friends when the ball went flying and nearly hit you. It landed by your feet and he was happy to come over and get it.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked, running his fingers through his hair.

“Um, well I’m here for work but just for the summer,” you told him watching him pout just slightly but nodded understandably.

“That’s a shame, we don’t have cute girls like you here,” Taehyung said, obviously flirting and you had absolutely no problem doing it back. You smiled, “I’m sure that’s not true but I’m flattered anyway. What’s your number? Maybe we should hang out sometime?”

You were being forward but who cares? You’re only here for a few more weeks and you want to have fun with someone who doesn’t live in your house. Is that too much to ask? Taehyung was very happy when you asked for his number and he was quick to give it to you.

Jungkook was annoyed because he was working with you again and this time there wasn’t an extra person. Mirae felt sick this morning, most likely dehydrated and couldn’t come to work so it just left you two. It wasn’t so bad since you mostly did your own thing but he’s tired and hungry.

“Y/n! Are you ready to go?” He asked, coming over to where you were and placing a hand on your back, not firm but just to let you know he’s right there. The guy you had been flirting with for the past fifteen minutes looked up at him but he acted like he wasn’t even there. With an annoyed roll of your eyes you said, “I guess.”

“At least I have your number, I’ll see you around?” Taehyung asked giving you a side hug in goodbye and you nodded. Once he was gone back to his friends, you joined Jungkook as he said, “You gave him your number?”

“Yup,” you said as you put your sunglasses back on, “Let’s go home, I’m hungry.”

“Let’s go to the boardwalk,” Jungkook said, “I want Busan street food.”

“Fine,” you said thinking about all the food Jungkook used to tell you about. His family lives in Busan but he’s only gone to see them once. He doesn’t seem to mind it and you wonder why but you’re not gonna ask.

Neither one of you bothered to change into different clothes considering it was the boardwalk and everyone was dressed in bathing suits. The only downside is that you and Jungkook looked like a couple wearing your matching beach uniform attire. This time he wore blue swimming trunks with the beach’s name and no shirt. You wore a similar pair of shorts, just more casual and shorter and you only wore a bikini top since it was hotter than usual today. You could also feel the sun burning at your shoulder and Jungkook noticed it too.

“You need sunscreen,” he muttered under his breath as he dug into the beach bag you all usually bring for work.

“I know but I can’t reach it all,” you told him honestly letting your brows furrow as he took out the bottle and poured some into his hands before rubbing them together. He motioned for you to turn around and you did without much fuss.

It’s not that the two of you like each other now but you’ve given up on being rude simply because the rest of the house is too nosy. They haven’t quit asking about why you two are so snarky toward each other and you’re sure they’ve all come up with conclusions on their own but neither you nor Jungkook are going to tell them the real reason why.

Jungkook placed his hands on your shoulders feeling the warmth of your skin from the way the sun glared down on you all day. You had a tanner complexion than usual and he’s sure he does too. Your skin was smooth and his hands were able to glide down the expanse of your back.

He sort of liked it. His touches were gentle but you hated that the touch of this man in particular made you feel a sort of way. He could rub sunscreen on your back all day but that would be weird so instead he cleared his throat and pulled away saying, “Can you get mine too?”

Jungkook did not like you. Whatever romantic feelings he had for you once died off over time but…

But right now your hands felt so good massaging his muscles with sunscreen. He resisted the urge to let his head fall back in bliss as you did the same to him before the two of you went to the boardwalk. Jungkook got on his phone shortly after some time walking and with a small sigh he said, “I’ve gotta go home, my mom has a bunch of fruit she wants me to pick up. Do you want me to walk you home or do you still want food?”

You thought about it for a second, “It’s fine, I’ll just get something to eat and then go home.”

He released a small huff, “Want to come with? It’ll be quick, after we can get food. It’s a walking distance from here and it'll be quick.”

“I didn’t bring a shirt.”

“You can wear mine,” Jungkook said, rummaging through the bag that was hanging off the shoulder and tossing it to you.

“What about you?” You asked even as you slipped the shirt over your head. Jungkook just shrugged, not really caring either way as he texted away on his phone, most likely to his family.

Honestly, you just didn’t want to go back to the house. It’s fun living with so many people because you're never bored but you also just needed some time away. You loved being able to go to work and just listen to music while you did work. Plus, if you went home without eating out you would be grumpy having to make yourself something after being out in the sun.

Also, at the end of the day you’re still most comfortable with Jungkook despite getting close to Sora and the others.

So the two of you were in front of Jungkook’s home looking as ridiculous as ever with him being shirtless and you wearing the large t-shirt and small shorts.

Jungkook didn’t knock or anything, just checked if the door was unlocked and immediately yelled for his mom. You stood back awkwardly, as Jungkook walked around the house motioning you to join him outside where he found his family eating watermelon outside.

“Kook!” They cheered when they saw him and you could feel their eyes drift toward you. He pointed a thumb in your direction as he casually said, “This is Y/n, my housemate,” hugging his parents.

“Y/n?” His older brother, JungHyun, repeated your name looking between you and Jungkook with narrowed eyes before smiling knowingly and said, “I’m JungHyun.”

You ended up just having dinner at Jungkook’s parent’s house and left with baskets of watermelon to enjoy on sunny days.

𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ

The day was perfect.

Jungkook felt at ease for the most part. The only ones who had to work today were you, Jimin, and Mirae so he was just hanging out around the house.

He spent a good amount of the morning on the back deck working out as he stared at the beach. He took a morning jog and came back to lift weights but aside from that he didn’t have much to do. Usually he’ll hang out with Jimin or Hoseok but one was at work and the other was taking a midday nap. The others wouldn’t even be off work till later so he really had nothing to do. He wandered around the house trying to think of something but nothing came.

“Hey Kook,” Jia said, suddenly appearing on the deck. He had given up on a workout and lounged on the pool chairs instead. He glanced up at her, nodding his head in greeting.

“Do you mind driving me to the store? Jisoo said he’s busy and Hobi is sleeping,” Jia asked and as much as Jungkook wanted to say no, he had no reason to. With a small huff he rose to his feet looking across the beach toward the boardwalk as if he could see you working from the house—he’s tried but he can’t.

He doesn’t care, honestly, but he’s just nosy? He wants to know what you’re doing or if that guy from the beach came by to see you again.

Jungkook went inside to put on a shirt and grab the keys while Jia waited downstairs for him. He stood by the window where he had a perfect view of three familiar people walking down the shore in familiar blue shirts and his eyes landed on you. He found himself stalling now, taking his time getting dressed, doing his hair up in that half low ponytail look, reapplying deodorant, spraying some cologne. He doesn’t know why he’s getting so dressed up for the store until you catch him upstairs on your way to your room.

You looked him up and down as he stood in the narrow entryway to the next floor, “You and Jia going somewhere?”

He was a step down the stairs already as he turned to you, “The store. Do you need anything?”

“Um… maybe,” you said as you listened to the call of his name from downstairs. You didn’t know why you even said that but suddenly you have a list of things to get. He brushed his bangs back, “Want to come? We’ll wait in the car?”

You just nodded leaving to your room to get your things. Jungkook and Jia went to the car and he watched her hop into the front seat as he went to the driver’s side. He tapped on the wheel nervously as he listened to Jia tell him about all the things he needed. He would have preferred if you sat up with him but it’s not like he could’ve directed her to the back. It’s becoming very clear that your frutal attempts to stay away from each other have failed as now he finds himself wanting to be closer again.

When you came out and got in the backseat you barely talked. The silence was filled with low music playing and Jia occasionally saying suggestive things to him.

“I heard you’re a pretty decent cook, Jungkook. Any chance you’ll make me something one of these days?” Jia asked but Jungkook just shrugged glancing at the rear view mirror to see your focus solely out the window. Couldn’t you attempt a conversation with him too? Did you really hate him that much still?

Slightly annoyed at the thought he found himself saying, “Sure, whatever you like.”

You were slightly annoyed but you blamed it on the summer heat and that you were a little tired from work. You tried not to think about the fact that you only came along because you wanted to see what Jia and Jungkook would do. You never realized how close they were until Jia was putting her arm on Jungkook’s giggling at whatever he said even if it wasn’t even funny… and he just let her.

At one point you even rolled her eyes at her third whiny, ‘Jungkook’ and went off to do your own thing.

It didn’t take long for Jungkook to notice your shift in mood and at first he didn’t get it. It wasn’t until Jia grabbed him by the hand to go down a different aisle that he saw the way your eyes locked on the action. Were you annoyed with him right now?

Or were you annoyed with the way he and Jia were acting right now?

He found himself wanting to test it out. He interlocked his fingers with Jia’s as he walked with her making sure to be extra attentive. You didn’t know why you felt the need to even come and think that it would make a difference. You felt most comfortable with Jungkook but clearly he didn’t feel the same and that annoyed the shit out of you. Why bother inviting you if he was just going to ignore you the whole time?

You thought you were finally getting over that tension between you two but if this was how it was going to be then you’ll be the same. That’s why you grabbed a box of condoms at the checkout line and set them down on the belt in a completely different row than them.

“So what’d you get?” Jia asked you once you were all in the car again and this time you willingly sat on the back. “Condoms.”

You missed the way she turned to Jungkook with twinkly eyes as if hoping he would look back at her and share some sort of inside joke about it but he didn’t. His eyes were dead set on the road, fists clenching around the steering wheel, face stone cold.

“Oh,” Jia laughed softly, “I didn’t know you were interested in someone like that. Who?”

“I don’t know yet, I’ve got a few options,” you muttered, arms crossed over your chest, shutting yourself off from them and looking out the window again. You were being petty but you didn’t even care. If those two were going to have fun and flirt in the house why shouldn’t you do the same?

The entire ride back to the house was filled with a silence louder than the music. Jungkook kept thinking about the guy at the beach. Were these for you and Taehyung? Did he actually come by and see you again when Jungkook wasn’t there? Why was that thought driving him absolutely insane right now? So you have absolutely no problem meeting up with some random guy but when it came to planning to ever go out with him you flaked? Did he do something? Were you just never serious about him?

He released a small scoff, lost in his own thoughts as he parked the car in the driveway. The three of you got out all your things and headed inside where everyone was.

You’re not sure if Jia lacked maturity or if she felt somewhat threatened by you but the second you all made it inside she loudly exclaimed, “Y/n bought condoms so she’s probably gonna get more action than the rest of us.”

Immediately there was a cluster of awe’s from Jimin and Hoseok who have failed to get laid these last couple weeks and you still had a month to go here. Not bothering to even act like you cared what she said you went up to your bedroom unaware that Jungkook stormed up to his clearly ticked off.

“Does Y/n have more game than us?” Hobi said as they all followed Jimin into his shared bedroom with Jungkook, “I wanna get laid too. Life is so unfair for a man.”

Jungkook was in their bathroom pretending to do something as Jisoo had the nerve to sit on his bed and say, “At least now I know I have a chance with Y/n. She must be a little desperate if she bought condoms. A guy usually does that when he knows he’s gonna find someone to fuck.”

The room fell silent as Jisoo laughed, clearly not reading the sudden awkwardness in the room at what he said. He continued on, “You know… Y/n’s always showing off her body for attention. I bet that’s why she came anyway.”

Jimin shook his head, “I don’t think that’s ri—“

“What did you say?” Jungkook asked so suddenly that it was like everyone forgot he was even there. Jisoo looked up at the others as if seeing if they’d agree with him before saying, “You know… Y/n’s hot, she knows it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came on this trip for a good fuck. She’s pretty much asking for it. I mean why else buy co—“

Jungkook was in front of him in a heartbeat, towering over him with a dark gaze, “Talk about Y/n like that one more time.”

“I dare you.”

Jisoo’s smile vanished and a sense of anger replaced it. Feeling defensive now he rose to his feet so that Jungkook wouldn’t think he intimidated him even if he sort of did.

“Jungkook. Jisoo, just chill for a minute, the girls are gonna hear an—“

“I don’t give a shit who hears,” Jisoo says with a scoff, “If I want to say that I plan on sleeping with Y/n then I’m gonna say it. If Jungkook is bothered by the fact that she doesn’t want him, that's not my fault—Ah.”

Jungkook’s fists tightened over the collar of Jisoo’s shirt pulling him closer and twisting the fabric tighter. Jisoo’s hands immediately flew to Jungkook’s forearms trying to get him to let go. He might talk his shit but if there was one thing he knew it was that he was not getting into a fight with a man who did boxing as a hobby and could lift more than his body weight.

Everyone knew Jungkook was serious just by the look in his eye and in hopes of easing the tension Jimin said, “Jungkook come on, let go. He’s just running his mouth, don’t let it get to you. It’s not worth fighting.”

“Oh but I think he’s asking for it,” Jungkook said jostling Jisoo enough to make him sway as he looked him dead in the eye, “Aren’t you?”

“Let me go, man.”

“No, I want to hear you try and run your mouth about Y/n again,” Jungkook said, testing him now but Jisoo only shook his head. Jisoo looked around hoping to see if they would get him to lay off when he stared at the door.

“Y/n.”

Jungkook let go almost immediately, turning his head to the door and catching you standing there. You must’ve left your room and heard the commotion.

“Y/n, I don’t know what you heard but this guy’s cra—“

“Jisoo. Shut the fuck up and don’t talk to me,” you said looking absolutely disgusted in him, “You’re worse than the trash we pick up off the shore—and just so you know you’re the last guy I would ever fuck.”

He scoffed, “Bitch.”

Jungkook stormed over to where Jisoo was standing in front of you trying to make his leave. Your hand stuck out, palm flat against the ridges of his abs as you looked up at him, “Stop. He’s not worth it.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook said softly now, not caring at all about the other two who stayed in the room awkwardly, “He’s got no right talking about you like that and I don’t know how much you heard but I have a right to beat his ass.”

“I have a right to beat his ass,” you said in the same soft tone he used. He looked down at the hand that was still on his stomach and before he knew it his hand was down on your waist.

“Y/n none of us agree with what he said at all,” Hoseok said but your attention was on Jungkook who still had his jaw clenched thinking about Jisoo and how much he would really enjoy putting his hands on the guy.

“Let’s go for a walk,” you offered and before he knew it he was nodding his head following you downstairs ignoring the others as they looked in confusion as to why Jisoo stormed out the front door and what the yelling was all about. Jia watched as Jungkook’s hand’s never left your waist as he followed you outside to the deck and down to the sandy beach.

“You defended me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jungkook asked as you both took your shoes off and let them at the end of the backyard to walk toes in the sand.

“I thought you still hated me.”

“You think that means I’m gonna let some guy say shit about you? Did you forget we talked about some serious things back then and how hurt you used to be?” Jungkook asked, “Besides I never hated you.”

You winced at his reminder. Back then you would have serious talks about past relationships and how you were both treated awful in them. He always told you that he had no respect for guys who would tear their girlfriends down and that if he could he would fight every single one of them for you. Clearly he hasn’t gone back on his word.

The sun had already set and what had started as a day quickly changed because of Jisoo. Jungkook was tired out but he didn’t want to go inside yet. He wanted to enjoy the empty beach with you and try and talk.

“Want to sit?” He asked, pointing to the shore. It was low tide and you could get close enough to the water without worrying about getting soaked. You nodded your head going to sit as he dropped to the sand next to you.

“Y/n.”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you ditch me that night? I was waiting for you for an hour and you never showed and when we argued about it… you wouldn’t tell me why,” Jungkook finally said.

You took a deep breath deciding to be honest, “I saw you with a girl the night before and I guess I got kind of jealous and thought you were playing me since you flaked the first time.”

Jungkook looked visibly taken back, “I—the only girl I talked to other than you was my coworker. I went out with her because it was all of us but I just ended up taking her home because she was drunk. There was never anything between us.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” you said awkwardly but he just shook his head. The sand was cool underneath you two and the water was a pretty shade of light blue and foamy white.

“It’s my fault, the first time I mean. I did flake so I get why you thought that so I’m sorry too.”

“Ugh,” you groaned as you fell back to lay down in the sand. Jungkook used his hands for support to sit but he looked down at you, “What?”

“Just annoyed. We could’ve avoided all this if I just asked you about it,” you told him making him laugh softly. He lied down next to you, “Maybe but I think I like you more after hearing what you told Jisoo and that wouldn’t have happened if we made up sooner.”

You laughed with him, “He’s so gross.” Jungkook nodded in agreement as the two of you looked up at the darkening sky.

“But I liked that you stuck up for me so thank you,” you said, making him smile.

It was quiet for a moment, “So why’d you buy the condoms?”

You groaned in embarrassment as you tried cov ring your face but he was on his side looking at you, “Because you were only paying attention to Jia after I thought we were beginning to be friends again and I don’t know… it was stupid.”

“You were jealous?” He asked if you actually were because every time he sees you with another guy he gets jealous. A little smile came to his face and you hit his arm lightly, “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not, I’m just surprised. You know how many guys are into you? I’ve been jealous this entire trip and I don’t know, I’m just surprised to know you were too,” Jungkook admitted and you looked over at him too.

Neither one of you said anything for a moment and you just spent time outside deep into the night.

You looked at Jungkook, he looked at you, and you’re not sure if this was an unspoken agreement or if it was just a long time coming but before you knew it you were both leaning in for a kiss.

You captured his lips with yours making him let out a small groan as he kissed back fiercely. It was careful at first still seeing if this was something you both wanted before Jungkook began to turn his upper body enough to hover over you. His tongue found yours and explored the inside of your mouth, swiping along yours and letting them glide against each other creating a pool of drool. Your hand was on the side of his face, fingers digging into his hair as a hand of his reached over to hold you down against the sand by your waist. Jungkook felt his blood rushing, as every part of him felt on fire. You pulled away first, tugging his lips between your teeth before kissing him even harder than the first time. He let his tongue go even deeper into your mouth causing you to moan softly, breathing getting heavier as a light breeze coursed through the two of you noting that it was night time on the beach.

It was when a seagull went over your heads did the two of you realize how exposed you were. Raccoons had a tendency to be on shore once the sun had set looking for burrows of baby sea turtles and neither one of you wanted to be out when they came scurrying past. The lights in the house were off for the most part due to how late it was and the two of you were finally able to see how long you had been out.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbled against your lips before pulling away enough to look at you. His hands were gently around your face wiping away the blown over sand from your features and brushing your hair back, “I didn’t want to be here at first because it was still awkward.”

He placed a tender kiss against your lips, “But if I wasn’t then… you know, we’d probably still be mad at each other.”

You reached forward to pin his bangs behind his ears, his ponytail loose and almost out but he just looked so handsome like this.

“The beach is so empty,” you commented as your hand trailed down the tight space between your bodies. Jungkook looked around, it was dark out and stars scattered across the night sky. You were utterly alone out here just making out like you hadn’t been put off by each other for the last few months.

You glide your hand down his chest, feeling the faint outline of his hard abs through the black shirt he's wearing with the sleeves cut off. He looked down at your hand, breath hitting when your hand reached the waistband of his trunks. You bite your lip as he leans down and starts kissing and sucking on your neck again.

You let your hand trail lower over his swimming trunks, softly tracing the outline of his length that was slowly hardening in your touch. It didn’t take long for you to notice he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. You let out a light gasp as he kissed along the curve of your jaw toward the end of your ear sucking just below it, body already shifting against you for more friction. He let out a low rumble through his chest when your hand palmed his erection, eyes already hazy as he dug his face into your neck.

"Dangerous territory," He mutters lowly, pressing his body down onto yours, kidding you deeply as your hand goes back down to his crotch, “We’re gonna get caught.”

It hasn’t left either one of your mind’s that you’re still outside laying against each other as the warm sand tickled your back and the waves of the sea acted as background noise. You trace the hard outline of his dick through the thin material.

"Fuck," He moans into your mouth, pulling back to catch his breath as he looks down at your hand. You slowly stroke up and down his length as you grab it through the material.

He raised his hips up just enough for you to be able to sink your hand inside his trunks and he bit his lip in anticipation. If you didn’t care that you were outside then neither would he, if anything it’s just arousing him even more.

You slowly and teasingly stroke up and down, palming him at a slow pace as he lets out a groan, “Y/n.”

You smile, “Jungkook.”

“Do you really want to do this?” He asked and for a second you weren’t sure if he meant what you were doing right now or what you were doing with each other in general. Instead you grip him by the base, moving your hand up to run your thumb over his mushroom tip. You spread his precum around with the pad of your thumb, “You don’t want to?”

"Fuck..." He whispers, pressing his forehead against yours, “I do. So fucking bad.”

You reconnect your lips with his, pumping his cock moving your hand up and down in tight then loose strokes. Your bodies were still so pressed against each other that if someone watched you from a distance then it would just look like a heavy makeout and not like your hand was jerking him off under his trunks. You start to move your hand quicker up and down his length, watching him as he presses his face into your neck and starts sucking and kissing the skin beneath your ear as you pulled his trunks down enough to slip only his hard length out for better access.

You speed up your hand even further, twisting and flicking your wrist as you feel him throb and twitch, hips bucking into your hand chasing that feeling that was getting closer, embarrassingly so. With a small tsk sound you release him making his body freeze before bringing your hand up. He looked down at it and his eyes stayed on yours as he spit right into it, you doing the same before running your palm against his tip then down his length.

He lets out a groan as he twitches, your quick strokes bringing him closer and closer to release. If anyone were to ask him if he knew you, of all people, would be giving him a wet handjob on the beach he’d laugh in their face.

"God, I'm gonna cum......" He moans out, placing both hands on the sand to hold himself up enough to not completely crush you with his waist as he fucked into your hand. You smirk and look up at him making him fuck your fist faster. With a small push-up then back down he crashes his lips against yours, growling into your mouth as he cums. Your hand immediately gets drowned in his release and the bottom of your shirt does too but you just smile into the kiss as his breathing gets heavier and more uneven.

“You know, I’ve never been to the movie room,” he whispered softly to you and you looked toward the house. He was still pressed against you but you had tucked him back in once he reeled back in.

The movie room was one of the only other rooms aside from your bedrooms and it was pretty much untouched. That meant that it was good for privacy and right now he felt like he needed privacy—with you. He wants to take you on a date and try it again but right now he wants to feel you even more.

“Me neither,” you said with furrowed brows as you tried to understand why he randomly brought it up. He didn’t answer you right away, tugging on your bottom lip lightly between his teeth, “Let’s go see it.”

You gave a brief nod of your head and he was helping you to your feet reaching behind you to dust off the sand for your denim shorts. He took your hand in his and led you back to the house being as quiet as possible. You still weren’t fully sure what you were doing but it didn’t seem to stop either one of you from making it into the movie room. Jungkook checked the hallways to see if they were empty before locking the two of you in.

Before you knew it the two of you were laying on the dozens of floor pillows and cushions on the floor making out with a movie playing in the background. This time you were on top. You were laying over him with one leg raised high against his waist with his hand on your butt, fingers pinching just slightly. Your other leg was between his and it was getting hard to ignore the growing length against your thigh. Jungkook reached for that same leg pulling it over so you could straddle him properly as you pulled back for a breath. His hands slid down to your eyes, bottom lip between his lips, hips softly grinding against yours as you reached for the hem of your shirt. He leaned up enough to yank the back of his shirt and with your help he threw it somewhere with yours.

It was very clear that it was your turn to be pleased by the way Jungkook so easily pulled you up onto all fours over him as he undid the button of your little denim shorts and yanked them down. You took it from there and shimmied them off fully before his hands gripped your hips tightly once more and you couldn’t silence the squeal you let out as he tugged you forward nearly dropping you over him, “Ju—Jungkook, what are you doing?”

“Wan’ you to sit on my face, like now Y/n,” he said in a serious tone. You shook your head, “No, I—do you really want me to?”

“Y/n…” he looked you dead in the eye as you sat on his chest with his hands flat on your thighs to make sure you didn’t move back. Your knees were over your shoulders and you just needed one pull to do what he asked and it was just all so tempting when he could smell your arousal.

“You just took my dick in your hand and made me cum out on the beach and you’re asking me if I want you to sit in my face?” Jungkook asked looking amused but also not, “I want you to ride my face, got it?”

You licked your lips at the thought and before you knew it Jungkook was already pushing you that small space forward until your heat was hovering over his face but not yet pressing into him. You sighed letting yourself relax and brush your fingers through his hair as he looked up dazed and waiting for your consent.

“You gonna show me how good you are with your tongue?” You asked, making his eyes roll just slightly.

“God yes,” he said with a sigh as he finally pulled you down the rest of the way, feeling your hand tighten in his hair. Your underwear was still in the way but it didn’t stop him from pressing his mouth to the soaked fabric of your underwear and his nose lightly tapped against your hooded clit already making you squirm. He gripped your thighs firmly now to keep you in place and just let him mouth at your covered cunt, licking at the fabric for just a hint of a teasing taste.

You tried not to put too much weight on him but he practically forced you down, face right against your soaked panties rubbing gently. You squirmed, “Jungkook.”

“Hm?” He hummed against you, hair brushed out of his face by your fingers, sparkly doe eyes looking at you from between your legs. You couldn’t see it but you knew he was smirking and it didn’t take long for Jungkook to slide his hands up from your thighs to your hips. Before you knew it he was gripping one side of your underwear and yanking in it hard enough to tear. He even jostled you a bit and then he did the other side too until it slipped off and he threw them somewhere far.

Jungkook looked up at your wet pussy, a line of slick dripping onto his tongue as he let his mouth open expectantly. As it touched the tip of it he did one swift lick between your folds to catch whatever else might drip. Immediately you gasped as he did it again, not wasting a moment to tease any longer. He’s so turned on he can’t even register the thought of taking his time.

“Careful,” You started to speak again, trying to remind him to take it easy since the others were sleeping and the television wasn’t that loud. It was pointless as he gave you another long lick followed by another. You bent forward, bracing yourself with one hand again in his hair pulling just slightly making him groan into your cunt as he tightened his grip on your thighs. Jungkook’s tongue worked upwards, shifting from long licks to short flicks against your clit. You couldn’t stop the rocking of your hips, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning loudly and letting everyone know what the two of you were doing.

“Fuck,” you whispered softly, bucking your hips forward as his hands slid to your butt, gripping hard enough to grind your pussy down on his face as he ate you out.

You released a low groan and this time Jungkook lifted you off despite your protests. He glared up at you, “You want everyone to know how I’m eating your pussy out?”

“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes, hips still moving just slightly praying he’d just continue, “Slow down then.”

Jungkook gave you a cocky smile, his hold already growing firm as he sent you a wink before pulling you over his face once again licking at your pussy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck," you murmured, nearly under your breath as his head moved frantically to follow the way you fucked into his face, tongue stiff as he flicked along your cunt sloppily.

You slapped a hand over your mouth, the knot in your stomach tightening, body convulsing with pleasure as he took in the sight of it. The way your torso moved with each buck of your hips, and your breasts. The tilt of your neck as you looked up trying not to look at him and the tight hold you had in his hair.

Without warning, you reached your climax all over Jungkook’s tongue. He eased your orgasm, licking softly before moving you off of him. As he did so his hands came down to your waist sliding you down with ease. He held you down to lay on top of him and without question your lips were on his again.

“So good,” he whispered against you, ready to take his trunks off once more, “I need you.”

“Mmh,” you said between kisses still not registering what he said until he was rolling you over under him so he could take them off. He kissed down your neck, “Condom?”

You nodded ready to reach out for one before your body froze. Jungkook, who still kissed and sucked on your neck blissfully, wasn’t paying attention. You tapped on his head to get him to look at you but he kept going, surely leaving live bites.

“I don’t have any.”

He stopped but didn’t pull away, “What?”

You sighed, “They’re in my room.”

He sighed as he pulled up but kept his body pressed against yours, “You’re lying.”

The situation made you laugh. Out of all times this could be happening to you. The first time you’re even attempting to get physical and after everything you've done tonight but you’re responsible.

He let his head fall onto your chest with a small groan. You sighed, “Sorry.”

Jungkook left a soft kiss on the mound of your breast, “Don’t be. Not like you knew this would happen, right?”

He definitely didn’t. Jungkook did not for one second even think about the possibility of kissing you this summer and definitely not as far as the two of you have gone tonight.

“Ugh,” you groaned as he hugged you, “If I go in and Sora wakes up, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“It’s okay,” he said, finally moving off you as he made himself comfortable next to you, still only in his trunks.

“Where’s my shirt?” You asked sitting up but he just pulled you back down grabbing one of the large throw blankets laying around and tossing it over you.

“Let’s just sleep right here,” he mumbled looking over to the door making sure he did lock it. He grabbed his shirt off the floor for you to put on and once you did, he let you cuddle into his side. He tried ignoring the sexual frustration that built up from not having sex with you but neither one of you were doing it without protection especially so soon.

“Everyone’s gonna think something is up,” you whispered as he let you use his bicep as a pillow.

He just shrugged.

“Who cares?”

𖠳 ᐝ

Jungkook was zoned out all morning the next day. No one’s said anything about the fact that the two of them didn’t return to their bedrooms last night but it’s very clear everyone has their suspicions just from the way they’ve been looking at you two. Of course they probably think the two of you made use of those condoms but they are gravely mistaken—almost but not yet. Soon though, he’s already made that promise to you both. When you get back to Seoul he’s gonna take you out and then everything will just fall into place, hopefully.

“What’s with the pigtails?” Jisoo — of all people — had the nerve to ask Jungkook.

“Why are you talking to me?” Jungkook asked, glaring at him as you fixed the end of one as the hair in the pony curled just under his pierced ear. Jisoo looked at you as if you’d stick up for him and that only annoyed Jungkook even more.

Jisoo seems to have forgotten that just yesterday he almost got into a fight with you both — even if it made you and Jungkook make up — it didn’t mean you liked the guy.

“Y/n,” Jisoo said, making Jungkook roll his eyes, “Can we talk?”

“No,” Jungkook said but you just placed a hand on his shoulder and handed him a mirror.

“I guess,” you said before looking at Jungkook, “Look at how good your hair looks. I’ll be right back.”

“Come get me if he tries anything,” Jungkook said as he held up the mirror checking himself out. The end of his growing mullet was in low pigtails but he still had wavy bangs curled around his ears and over his forehead. He looked ridiculous using his tattoo covered hands to clear his bangs out of his eyes.

“What?” You asked Jisoo, already sounding annoyed as he dragged you outside to the deck. You sat at the wooden table by the grill and waited for him to speak.

“I just wanted to apologize for yesterday,” Jisoo said honestly, “I was out of line and honestly if I knew you were with Jungkook I wouldn’t have said anything but I just don’t get why you two were hiding it.”

You laughed, like actually laughed, and it confused him even more. You stopped for a moment to look at him, ��So you’re apologizing not because of what you said but because you didn’t realize I was with Jungkook? Which I wasn’t, let me just say.”

“No, that's not what I meant, I just… well you know, you weren’t giving anyone the time of day and I showed you I was interested. I guess I just wanted to annoy Jungkook because he seemed so territorial over you but I didn’t expect you to hear,” Jisoo said, scratching the back of his head nervously.

“Are you stupid?” You asked, “This isn’t an apology to me at all, and honestly if you can’t just apologize for the way you spoke about me then why even bother? You’re making excuses saying that I wouldn’t give you the time of day? Damn, Jisoo, I wonder why!”

Jungkook didn’t even hide the way he was glaring out the sliding glass doors. He can’t even hear what you’re saying and that just annoys him more. He’s just waiting for Jisoo to do something so that he has an excuse to go out there. If he tries anything then he picked the wrong day for that.

Jungkook is sexually frustrated, homesick, and annoyed with him still over last night.

“Oh my god! Jungkook! Your hair is so cute!” Jia and Mirae said when they made it through the door carrying takeout. Jungkook looked over at them seemingly unimpressed, “Thanks.”

You and Jisoo made it back inside after you made it incredibly clear that you don’t like that guy just in time to see Jia reach for the end of Jungkook’s pigtail.

“You look so cute, I’m not used to this cute side of yours. Did you do your hair like this?” Jia asked as Jungkook looked at you and Jisoo walk in.

“No, I did,” you muttered and Jungkook reached for Jia’s hand to push it away before coming over to where you were.

“Oh,” she said as he followed you up the stairs without a single glance back at them, “Well it’s really cute.”

“Take them out,” you said just as the two of you made it to the top floor. His brows furrowed in confusion, “What?”

You huffed as you began pulling his pigtails out, “I don’t want them looking at you like that.”

He laughed, “You feeling jealous already? We just made up yesterday.”

“So? Do you want me to go tell Jisoo he looks cute?”

“I’m taking them out,” he said, helping you, “The only person you can call cute is me.”

“Well don’t let other people touch your hair then—“ You cut yourself off as your eyes drifted to one of the bedroom doors.

Jimin and Hoseok didn’t even bother to act like they didn’t see the whole thing. Jimin smirked as he looked at you two then at Hoseok. He just laughed, “Looks like someone did get laid, and it sure as hell wasn’t me.”

“Ugh!” Jungkook groaned, “We didn’t—“

“Yeah sure bud,” Jimin said as the two walked past you and Jungkook, “Not what we heard last night.”

Your jaw dropped realizing that you might’ve been louder than expected. Jungkook just glared at them, “Want me to kill you?”

“How morbid!” Hobi gasped dramatically, “You’d think getting laid by the girl he’s been obsessing over would loosen the guy up.”

“We didn’t!” Jungkook yelled ready to trail after them but you just hugged him by the waist laughing.

“Let them think we did, who cares?”

::.

whew okay this was a fave and don’t worry bc in part two? 🤭🤭oh yeah the fuck. and it’s gonna be city vibe relationship next so y’all better tune in.

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[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret ☆

A MANDALORIAN SERIES MASTERLIST

[ COMPLETED ]

✩ a bodyguard!din x princess!reader fic ✩

series summary :

Married off to a prince on a planet that you hate? New husband doesn't know you, and doesn't want to know you? New husband gifts you a personal Mandalorian body guard as a wedding present? Mandalorian is a wiseass who won't leave you alone? Lucky you.

18+ mdni

do you like kitschy, campy romance novels? if you're reading this, I hope so.

behind the scenes & chapter notes + other extras (spoilers) :

chapters 1-5

chapter 6-15

spotify playlists

Lysa & Elaine information

the bks screen adaption

bks q&a

bks what if's

reader is generally not described past being picked up a few times, and having hair long enough to be put up

✩ chapters containing smut!

chapter one : honeymoon (6.7k words)

[ Absurd.

That is the only word that comes to mind as you stare at yourself in the mirror. “His favorite color is blue.” ]

chapter two : silent treatment (7.4k words)

[ Something is wrong. You bolt up from the pile of blankets that you call a bed and your eyes dart around the closet as you furrow your brow trying to discern why you feel so much different. ]

✩ chapter three : the smitten paladin (4.6k words)

[ You’re starting to think the planet isn’t the reason you’re so hot all the time.

You had woken up this morning feeling a bit better than you thought you’d be, your stomach is full of butterflies but you're still standing and considering the night you had you’re gonna take that as a win. ]

chapter four : sarad'ika (6.8k words)

[ Sarad'ika. 

You won’t forget it this time, you can’t. So you write it in your book, just under Mando’s favorite color you write the two little words that have been keeping you up at night. ]

✩ chapter five : lunar interlude : just a man (5.0k words)

[ Absurd.

It’s absurd how much the job pays. Din’s not even sure he should take it at this point because it’s too good to be true. ]

✩ chapter six : torment (5.1k words)

[ Okay, maybe you didn’t think this through. 

You didn’t think he’d actually come in and now suddenly the door is shut and you’re alone with him. ]

✩ chapter seven : just friends (3.1k words)

[ Maker it feels like it’s been an hour and you’re both just laying here. He was just inside of you; it shouldn't be so hard to find something to talk about at this point. ]

chapter eight : solar markets (5.3k words)

[ It’s nice to wake up excited again. 

You wish you could say that it happened more often but hopefully it will from now on. It’s going to be your first time leaving the castle grounds since you got here. ]

✩ chapter nine : shuk'la rules (5.6k words)

[ You need sex.

Normally you would be satisfied for quite some time after getting off but for some reason with Mando it was different. But it’s only been two days and you need more. ]

✩ chapter ten : lunar interlude : briikase gote'tuur (4.1k words)

[ He’s grateful for the break from you, even if brief. 

That’s not to say that he doesn’t enjoy every moment he gets to be in your presence but the more time he spends with you the harder it gets to remember that this isn’t real. ]

chapter eleven : he loves me not (4.6k words)

[ Something is wrong. 

All day it’s been wrong. 

He’s different. Distant. ]

chapter twelve : pretend (4.4k words )

[ Two days.

That’s what you’re willing to give yourself. Two days to get over it. One to get it all out of your system and one to pull yourself together. ]

chapter thirteen : lunar interlude : vercopa (3.5k words)

[ He did it.

He did exactly what he knew he needed to do.

So why does he feel worse than ever? ]

chapter fourteen : condemned (4.9k words)

[ You’re having trouble sleeping. 

You have no problem falling asleep, it’s mostly staying asleep. There’s a million different things that consume your thoughts and everytime you drift into unconsciousness you find yourself jolting awake, barely able to stay asleep for more than an hour at a time. ]

chapter fifteen : two tea parties (5.4k words)

[ “What did you do to her?”

Her voice breaks through his sleepy haze as he sits up properly. 

“Excuse me?” ]

chapter sixteen : absolution (4.6k words)

[ There’s a visceral sense of dread when you wake up, for several reasons. 

The glaring obvious culprit of your discomfort would be the fact that today’s your husband's birthday. ]

chapter seventeen : the apostate’s cabin (3.5k words)

[ Just Din. 

It’s sinking in as you walk in silence, holding his hand tightly as he pulls you towards his home. ]

chapter eighteen : portrait of a man (5.4k words)

[ It’s deliciously warm when you wake. You can feel his heartbeat and you can feel the soft traces of sunlight dancing along your back. You stretch in his arms slightly but freeze up as you feel him nuzzle his chin into your hair, planting a kiss against your hairline. ]

✩ chapter nineteen : reverence (7.3k words)

[ You really want to. 

You couldn’t possibly want to more than you currently do. 

It’s actually a bit mean. That he’s left you here in this state. ]

✩ chapter twenty : like real people do (8.4k words)

[ Mando and Din. 

All you can think about right now is how there must be two of them. 

You’re playing with his curls. ]

✩ chapter twenty one : te mirci't (9.0k words)

[ “It means I love you.” 

You aren’t entirely sure how long you stare at him, looking rather silly with your jaw practically on the floor. ]

✩ chapter twenty two : it’s you that i lie with (11.3k words)

[ Naboo has several trading ports. 

You could get him on a cargo ship. That would be the most inconspicuous form of transport. It would help if he was willing to ditch his armor. ]

✩ chapter twenty three : lunar markets (15.0k words)

[ Sneaking out of the castle gets easier every time you do it. 

It only takes a few minutes and you’re walking outside towards the forest trail, Din’s hand in yours, still giddy. ]

✩ chapter twenty four : lunar interlude : riduur (7.8k words)

[ He doesn’t deserve this.

How could he possibly be deserving of you? Yet somehow you make him feel as if he is. With your soft touch and the way your eyes get just a little bigger when you see him. ]

✩ chapter twenty five : wedding bells (11.7k words)

[ Four days of Leo. 

You were upset that Din was leaving you but you got over it rather quickly with the promise of his hasty return. ]

chapter twenty six : crucifixion (12.7k words)

[ “My room is too big.” 

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” ]

chapter twenty seven : the apostate (6.0k words)

[ Silence.

That’s all there is in his brain. 

It’s hard enough as is for him to hear. It doesn’t help when he’s been beaten half to death. ]

✩ chapter twenty eight : a place for us (8.4k words)

[ You’d spent the better half of the day trying to get on top of him. 

Every time you managed to get close he’d simply set you down on the nearest surface with a kiss on the cheek and go back to doing whatever he was working on. ]

chapter twenty nine : the best kept secret (epilogue) (6.1k words)

[ The morning sun is warm against your face, you bask in it, unmoving and only half awake until you feel a tiny hand slapping your cheek. The illusion of tranquility is immediately shattered as you softly laugh. ]

[fourmoony]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬

james potter x f!reader, modern college au, 1.3k

cw: smoking, past rejection, implied self-esteem issues

summary: reader isn't as subtle as she thinks about her crush on jamie

James is propped up against the hood of his car when you pull into the space next to his. He's talking to Sirius and Remus, who stand a few paces in front of James, both smoking a cigarette. Technically, they're not supposed to smoke on campus, but you doubt anyone would be stupid enough to mention that to Sirius Black and his infamously smart-mouthed boyfriend.

James turns his gaze to you as your engine cuts out, keys jangling in your hand and he lifts his hand in a wave. You wave back, half focussed on collecting the multitude of things on your passenger seat and stuffing them into your bag. The carrier bag in your footwell snags your attention, heart stammering a little with the reminder of what lies inside. It's cool. In your opinion, a very cool poster. One you know James has been looking for, for months. His favourite band.

But there's a voice in the back of your head, one born of being fourteen and asking a crush out, only to be told you'd gotten the wrong idea. A voice born of years of being lusted after, but not wanted. It's a voice that tells you James might assume you got this poster because you fancy him and find it weird.

And, sure. You might have went to the lengths of scrolling the internet for hours and paying extra for express shipping because you couldn't wait to see his smile when he unveiled it, to watch his eyes crinkle at the corners with excitement. There's something so overwhelmingly pretty and soft about James Potter. You've been living with that heavy admittance in your chest all semester and next week, your final term of sharing classes with James will end and you want him to remember you. You want to be able to say you tried.

But you don't want him to know all of that.

With a glance, you look back to James. He's waiting patiently for you, still talking to Sirius and Remus. The bag crinkles when you pick it up, the anxiety prickling over your skin like a heat rash. His friends offer you kind smiles when you exit the car, bag slung over your shoulder and the framed poster in hand. "Your engine doesn't sound great, love. You checked your oil recently?" Sirius asks, foregoing a proper greeting.

James laughs at the same time Remus rolls his eyes, akin to a love sick fool even when he's pretending not to be. "Ignore him," Remus drawls, flicking his cigarette to the ground, "He's decided he's going to be a mechanic."

In the year you've known Sirius Black, he's decided he's going to be an artist, then the lead singer of a band, then a lawyer, then a pilot, and now, he's going to be a mechanic. You hope, one day, that one might stick. Though, you've seen how much he loves his motorbike and would put money on the mechanic idea sticking around for a while longer than the time he wanted to buy a zoo.

"Oh, right. You can have a look if you like, but Jamie filled the oil last week." You tell Sirius, who scowls at his best friend.

James smiles kindly when you settle beside him against his car, leaning over to bump your shoulder with his bicep. His height difference is nothing, compared to Remus, but you still have to look up to meet his kind eyes. "Hi." He says.

"Hey."

Sirius scoffs, "Hi."

James pointedly ignores him, "What's in the bag?"

Your eyes nervously flick to Sirius and Remus, the former becoming incredibly interested in what's in the bag as well. Remus must sense your hesitation, because he grabs his boyfriend by the wrist and turns to walk away. "See you later, Prongs. Bye, love."

Sirius can be heard causing a scene even when Remus has dragged him half way across the student parking area. You smile after them fondly.

"You gonna make me guess?" James asks, pushing off of his car to stand and face you.

You have to crane your neck even worse to meet his eyes at this angle, but it's worth it. They're so light in the morning sun they look crystallised. He looks amused, lips twitching as he looks down at you. Heat prickles over your skin as he assesses you. "What's in the bag?"

You hand it to him, wordlessly, and nod for him to look inside. He pulls the frame, turning it until he can see the poster inside. His brows furrow, then lift, his lips parting in surprise. Genuine joy passes through his eyes and you wonder how someone can be so readable, so expressive. His beauty astounds you.

James looks at you, mouth opening and closing like he can't find the words.

"It's for you," You offer, rather dumbly, "Obviously."

James laughs a little breathless, the sound sending your heart slamming into your rib cage. "Where on earth?" He asks, bewildered.

"It's a secret. But I know how long you've wanted one, so I had it framed for safe keeping."

"Thank you," James slides the frame back into the bag, sets it to lean against the front of his car. "Seriously, thank you."

You shrug, hoping it's somewhat believable. "No big deal."

James rolls his eyes at your nonchalance. "Can I hug you? Is that too much? I feel like I should hug you."

You laugh, the feeling of anxiety lifting as James reaches forward to wrap his arms around you. He's warm and soft and smells like cologne and freshly washed clothes. His arms squeeze you tight, his nose buried in your hair where he's hunched over.

"Let me take you to dinner or something, as a thank you." James says as he pulls away, unlocking his car to place the frame safely in the passenger footwell.

"Really, James, you don't have to do that. It's just a poster." You wave him off, pushing off of the car and collecting your bag.

James follows as you walk, shoulder to bicep, skin brushing and your heart in your mouth from the contact alone. "I'm taking you to dinner. Not because I have to, but because I want to."

You find yourself fighting a smile, "Well if you want to." Your voice is teasing an it makes James smile.

"I do. It's a date." James tells you, like it's nothing.

You've halted in the doorway he's holding open for you, head tilting to look into his face. To be sure. To make sure he's not kidding, to make sure he doesn't mean a 'friend date'. He smiles, knowingly.

"You're not subtle, you know," He ushers you through the door, eager to make it to your class on time, "That poster is not easy to find, nor is it cheap."

"It's what friends do." You protest, cheeks warm and palms sweaty.

You brace for rejection, for a joke, for the 'I just don't see you that way'. But James rolls his eyes, reaching around you for the door to the classroom, "Friend's don't go on dates."

"We haven't been on a date." You laugh, incredulously, leading James to your usual seats.

It's a nice feeling, a warm feeling, to feel suddenly safe within your conversation. To feel the normal level of comfort you do with James, even when putting yourself out there. James frowns, "We've been on multiple dates. The library, the cafeteria, the coffee shop just off campus. We even went to that Ethics seminar that one time!"

It takes looking at him to realise he's kidding, the corners of his lips twitching up until he can't fight it anymore. It should be unsettling, for him to make a joke of it. But as he sits, his hand brushes over your shoulder, a gentle touch that sets your skin on fire. "I'm kidding, when I take you out for real, there'll be no confusion on whether or not it's a date."

His breath fans over your ear, warm and his voice thick and you think you might pass out, saved only by the entrance of your professor. James settles in, sends you a wink that has you more flustered than it should.

"Noted." You whisper, though you don't imagine James has heard you.

[ariseur]

Hi! So, for the request, i was wondering if you could do sfw and nsfw (if u want, ofc) headcanons like you did for Vergil, but for Cloud Strife? It’d be super nice if you could, but no problem if u don’t like the request !!

cloud strife (n)sfw hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

i haven’t recovered from crisis core, guys.

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

spoilers and mentions of crisis core and advent children, mentions of the massage scene in ffvii remake 😭😭, nsfw will be labeled and put in a separate section of headcanons, intended lowercase, lmk if i missed anything, love 💕!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ so!!

❥ let me just start by saying that when you start dating cloud, you must know what you’re getting into— and by that, i mean that he’s super emotionally constipated and is often frazzled with his memory (depending on which arc we’re in).

❥ i think you’d have more luck with a more receptive response if you met him during cc or somewhat before, for instance— being childhood friends with him like tifa was. i think after the events of cc / during ac is where it gets more difficult to get him to open up.

❥ for love language, in terms of giving, i think cloud performs acts of service to show his love. he absolutely sucks with words but small things he does are his subtle ways of showing you he loves you without being able to say it. like walking you home or making you coffee when he notices that you’ve stayed up the night before.

❥ clouds very observant, so while you were at your desk working on whatever you were doing, he came home a little late to see you slaving away at your desk. he didn’t say much, if anything maybe a, “you’re up?” before he goes to sleep. but that morning he makes sure to wake up extra early to make you some coffee.

❥ or maybe, when you guys are hanging out at seventh heaven or something, he’ll walk you home. his excuse is that it’s not safe in the slums to walk home by yourself.. and while that is true, he just really wants to make sure you’re safe. he’ll act like he’s bothered by your small talk, but will still continue to respond.

❥ another thing i might consider for cloud is gift giving. he’d probably bring you something back from the other sectors if hes on a mission or something.

❥ with receiving love languages, i think it’d take him some time to be open to it but words of affirmation always manages to tint his cheeks a little pink.

❥ he can’t help it?? he’s just like a old pitbull that craves pets every so once in awhile. he’s the dog that’ll lay at your feet with a big sigh as you gentle rub behind his ears, even though he’ll literally walk away five minutes later as if he wasn’t clinging onto you.

❥ due to hectic and erratic schedule of his job, he also cherishes the quality time that you two have while you can. even if this is before he’s a merc, maybe perhaps when he’s still a shinra infantryman, he still revels in the moments you two spend alone. anything could happen, and he’s grateful for every moment he spends with you, especially after the events of cc.

❥ he can be the wisest dude ever and then malfunction right afterwards. this is also stemmed from his interaction with jessie in ffvii remake where he says that survival is a matter of luck and skill, and you can’t rely on luck— to which jessie agrees. then he literally doesn’t know what to say afterwards. it’s like a.. 35/65 chance of these moments. just agree with him or compliment his thoughts and that’ll be enough to shut him up for a few minutes!!!

❥ as for dates!! i read @silverflqmes’s dating headcanons for agzsc (by the way??? amazing??? go follow them rn!1!1!1) and they mentioned how they could see cloud taking you out on his motorcycle to the outskirts and let me tell you I AGREE. cloud is obviously not a people person, so i also think he’d prefer to go to a small clearing or somewhere quiet where only the two of you would be seen. after all the chaos of his job, he likes a little quiet time.

❥ i don’t think cloud would like to have you involved in his work, and if you were, he’d at least spend a lot of time sparring with you or training with you to help teach you defense. he overthinks a lot, so he’s always thought about something happening while he’s away. “you need to be able to protect yourself when i’m not there.” he always says. cloud may not be a very.. responsive— teacher but you’ll definitely learn something nonetheless!!

❥ don’t let cloud’s bluntness fool you!! he may be dry but he does care for you!!! you may not realize it but you could ask for almost anything from him and he’d oblige for free, and we all know cloud, he’s just doin stuff for the pay. oh it’s 250 gil? nah keep it he’ll get it for you dwdw pookie.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

NSFW BELOW ꨄ︎

❥ let me just get smth off my chest, okay???

❥ i am a firm rider on the virgin/inexperienced!cloud train.

❥ and no it’s not just because this is lowkey self indulgent, i just don’t really think cloud ever took much of an interest with pursuing sexual and romantic relationships like that.

❥ i can’t see cloud doing anything wild either? i think he’s pretty vanilla for the most part besides maybe a small praise kink or something like that. just you telling him how good he feels or how good he’s making you feel is like an instant uplifter for him.

❥ guys.. that deluxe massage scene.. stays rent free in my brain..

❥ yeah those noises in that scene also apply to the bedroom, too.

❥ pace definitely depends on his mood!! if you guys are both tired or just don’t feel like going super fast, then cloud will take more of a slow pace, maybe even occasionally teasing you. but if he’s perhaps a little jealous, albeit how much he tries to assure you that he doesn’t, then he will literally drill into you. good luck 😭.

❥ cloud doesn’t have a very high libido, but he still savors the moments when you guys do get intimate. that’s why he likes to go slow— so that you both can really cherish this moment. even if he’s super awkward and unsure of what to do with himself.

❥ cloud’s definitely pretty average in terms of girth, maybe a little bit more lengthier? he’s very sensitive though, so be careful!!!

❥ you def are gonna have to show cloud what makes you feel good and what to do in these moments considering his inexperience. cloud’s a quick learner though, so he should pick up on it pretty fast.

❥ he’s very observant, and on days when he’s focused on giving you pleasure, he makes sure to take notice of all your expressions and noises.

❥ i need to be contained holy crap

[a-aexotic]

could you do a rafe imagine where reader is a pouge and she’s working at the country club as a server or as a bust gal and kelce says something about her but rafe secretly likes the reader and he defends her and gets pissed at his friends for talking bad about her or saying something degrading or ojectifyinfg about her and then the reader finds out rafe defended her from topper ?? Bc topper is secretly kind (apart from the fire tbh) and reader confronts rafe about why he defended her

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings. sooo much fluff, degrading language towards women, a fight (kinda), out of character top/rafe, lmk if i missed anything!

summary. rafe has a crush on you and topper makes it his top priority to get you two together after you confess your feelings, too.

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

You were exhausted at this time of day and you just wanted to go home and rest. Your eyes were heavy and your feet hurt from these stupid heels the club makes you wear. You had one last table before you could clock out; you could already feel the warm bath you were going to draw tonight.

Until you saw who you were serving; Kook royalty themselves. Rafe, Topper, Kelce and a few guys you don't recall the names of. You prepared yourself for the longest hour serving these boys.

You walked up to them, a big smile on your lips. If you were going to serve some snotty Kooks you might as well get a good tip. "Hey, um. I'm Y/N, and I'm your waiter for tonight. Can I get you started with any drinks?"

You handed out the menus and you could already feel their stares at your body and face, making you feel a tiny bit self conscious. In the corner of your eye you saw Kelce turn to one of the boys to whisper something and he immediately turned red before letting out a chuckle.

You saw Topper and Rafe make eye contact before Rafe rolled his eyes, making Topper sigh.

"Sure, for me, I don't know about the others though." Topper nodded politely as you smiled.

"Yeah, I'm super thirsty." One of the boys had commented as the whole table (minus Topper and Rafe) erupted in laughter. You were disgusted and honestly disappointed, I mean, how low could these jerks get?

Rafe cleared his throat and the whole table became quiet once again. "Me and Top are going to get some Old-Fashion's. I don't know about the others."

"Make that three more." Kelce added and you nodded politely, jotting it down quickly on the notepad.

"Okay, I will be right back with your drinks. Take a look at the menus, alright?" You walked away with another big smile and as you turned, it immediately dropped.

You didn't necessarily hate Kooks; well, not to the extent of JJ or Pope. You could honestly stand them; sure, they made you uncomfortably sometimes but at least at the end of it, you have a good tip.

"Take a look at those menus, more like take a look at that ass!" The boy had said and Kelce and other one let out another laugh. Rafe couldn't stand it.

The jokes weren't funny and were low blows, they were some of the worst jokes he'd heard in months. It was stupid. Rafe held in all his anger because he didn't want to cause a scene, especially here or in front of you.

He's been trying to make a move on you for months; giving extra tips, complimenting you, asking if you could help with the golf cart. And now all his hard was going down the drain because you're going to think he's shallow and idiotic because of his 'friends.'

The only person he actually liked right now was Topper and that's saying a lot. He felt bad for you as well. Rafe didn't really feel empathetic towards anyone but seeing you put on a fake smile and nod off the joke like it was nothing reminded him of someone.

"God what I would do to take her to bed." One of the boys sighed as the others agreed. Rafe bit his tongue as they continued.

"I'm sure she would," Kelce took a drink of his water. "If you tipped her enough."

"You're right, she's a Pogue. I'm sure she needs the money."

Rafe was disgusted. Is this really what they thought about? "Shut the fuck up, dude. That's not funny."

The table went quiet as the guy turned to Rafe. "What the fuck is your problem man, you've been in a bitch mood ever since we came in here. I mean, come on, it's a fucking joke."

"A joke? You call that a fucking joke?" Rafe started raising his voice. "You're the fucking joke here, dude. Who the fuck says that shit? Especially while she's literally over there."

Topper nodded. "Yeah, have some decency. Y/N's actually so sweet."

The two boys looked at each other before laughing. "Oh I see what's goin on here. You two are acting like you're all above this, above us, so she can see how gentleman-ly you are and let you tag team her, huh?"

"Not everything is about sex, dude. Maybe we actually think she's nice and a human being that deserves a little respect. She's, y'know, a living breathing human with thoughts in case you've forgot." Rafe was seeing red and he was about to throw a punch before Topper kicked his leg.

"What, dude? It's true." Rafe looked at Topper before he sighed.

"Let's just finish the drinks and then we can go, alright?" Topper was trying to calm things down and Rafe took a deep breath before nodding.

You had come back with all the drinks on a platter. You felt the shift in energy, it was a lot more tense now than it was. "Alright, have you guys figured out what you guys wanted to eat?"

You passed out the drinks.

"That would be it, can you uh, get the check please?" Rafe's voice was much softer and politer than usual and you nodded. You appreciated the manners; you don't see a lot of that in the country club.

"Okay, sure. I will be right back with the check." You smiled at him and his cheeks turned a little red as he turned away. Topper noticed this and was a little confused.

Rafe had never mentioned liking you in anyway. He was now wondering if he had just started liking you or if this was something that's been happening for a while now.

"Okay, Kelce, how much would you pay me if I went up to her and asked her out on a date?"

"Nothing, dude. You'll be getting the award, why would I have to pay?" Kelce responded, drinking a little of his drink.

Rafe flared his nostrils as he kept in his anger once again. He didn't want to blow up again, people were already staring.

"Dude, you won't do it." The other guy laughed. "You're a fuckin pussy."

"There's no way she'll say yes." Kelce added.

The other guy rolled his eyes, "How much do you wanna bet?"

Kelce laughed, "100$ easy, dude."

He laughed, "Okay, I'll be a 100$ richer."

"You're definitely going to lose that 100, man."

You came back and put the check down with a small smile. "Is that all boys?"

"Yes." Rafe quickly said, taking the check and putting his card in. The others exchanged looks. Before you could away, the boy had started to say something.

"Y/N, right?" He looked at your nametag then to your low V-cut shirt before looking back at your face. "I was wondering if you could let me take you out later this week, maybe... Saturday? I'm havin a big party, I'd just love for you to come."

Rafe was angry he felt like his eyes were going to bulge out of his eyelids as he stared daggers at the guy.

You stood there, a bit shocked. There were a few seconds before you could respond. "I would love to. But uh, I'm already dating someone."

"Really?" Topper looked confused, you'd never mentioned one. You glared down at him before smiling and nodding. Rafe felt like his world had come crashing down. You had a boyfriend?

"Yup, JJ. Two months!" You said dramatically. "Sorry... About that."

The guy looked pissed, turning away from you. "You weren't even that pretty anyway." He muttered.

Your eyes widened and immediately took that as your que to leave, walking away. "Okay.."

Rafe quickly got up after you, taking out his wallet and taking out a 20$, handing it to you.

Your eyes had widened at how much he was tipping. "Whoa, are you sure?"

"Very. My friends were douches to you and I apologize. I don't even know the other two dudes' names."

You laughed, the first real genuine laugh you've had all day. It was a like breathe of fresh air. "Me neither, but I can't take this, that's so much." You pushed away the money.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you can." He put it in the pocket in your shirt before sighing. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

He walked away to the rest of his friends and you smiled at the nice gesture. Rafe, despite the opinion of your friends, was actually kinda sweet. I mean, he was sure as hell better than the rest of his friends (minus Topper).

"Dude, that took you long enough." You heard one of them groan.

"Shut up." You heard Rafe reply as you smiled to yourself. You immediately shook away the smile, sighing. Why was the Kook prince making you smile? Wow, you were in desperate need of a bath and a good meal, 8 hour shifts aren't your strong suit.

--

You were surprised and confused at Topper's words.

"Yeah, he was like, genuinely pissed. I've never seen him that mad and that's saying a lot."

Your eyebrows were furrowed, "Wait, wait. So he defended me?"

Topper looked at you like it was the most obvious thing of all. "That's what I've been saying for the last half an hour, have you been listening?"

You rolled your eyes at Topper's unnecessary sassiness, "Yes, Top, it's just been really hard to process."

"What's hard about it? Rafe has literally never had a soft spot for anyone except Wheeizie, like ever. And he's rich. He can spoil you and you're literally set for life-"

"Whoa, okay." You started laughing. "Let's not go that far. I am not marrying Rafe Cameron." ok girl...

"Okay but think about it." He smiled. "We could be like kinda related. If Sarah marries me... or if Rafe considers me a best friend, I could be like your brother-in-law."

You started laughing harder, "Sarah's not marrying you."

He didn't look too amused by that. "Okay, shut up, seriously. Rafe likes you."

The more you imagined his face and his smile, his dad outfits and the way he literally is an asshole to everyone except you, the more hot your face felt.

Topper smiled as he playfully pushed your shoulder making you laugh. "He's cute."

"Cute? Don't call say that to his face, he'll get all flustered and then roll his eyes."

You already imagine his face, making you laugh a little harder. "Okay, okay. If... if I were to like him back, how would I approach him?"

Topper sighed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Okay, uh. Maybe just talk to him and flirt before he asks you out."

"That's so obvious-"

"He tipped you a 20 last night and you're worried you're making it obvious? Are you serious?"

You rolled your eyes. You reminded yourself to talk to Topper about his attitude problem later because it's getting a bit much. "Okay. Fine. I will."

--

Other than being a waitress at the country club, some days they put you on the Beverage Cart duty. It was probably because they were short in staff that day but honestly you didn't mind. You'd rather be out on the golf course then cooped up in the restaurant. You also get double the tips than you would inside.

Plus, you had a cute golf outfit on with the cute visor; you felt like a true Kook.

As you were going around, selling drinks, you saw Topper and Rafe. Of course they were going to the club today; it was nice Saturday afternoon. You face palmed yourself. You already knew what Topper was going to do.

Topper saw you as well, a smirk forming on his lips. "Rafe, uh. Remember Y/N?"

Rafe felt himself blush at the mention of you. He shook it off, nodding. "Uh, yeah. Doesn't she work here?"

"Yep. Also, I was uh, talkin to her the other day and she called you cute."

Rafe's mouth flew open as he whipped his head towards Topper. "What?"

Topper smiled. "Yeah, she called you cute. Like, really cute. She was blushing and shit."

Rafe smiled and he didn't even feel it. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, dude. And, oh! Speaking of the devil, there she is."

Rafe's eyes widened as he looked over at you and shook his head. "Oh, uh."

"I know you like her, man." Topper added as he looked to Rafe.

He shook his head. "No, I don't like her. I think she's cute."

Topper rolled his eyes. "And you blush around you, you stumble over your words, you tip her real good. You were practically on the floor kicking your feet in the air and blushing when I told you she said you were cute."

Rafe frowned at Topper's wording and before he could protest, he started pushing Rafe towards the cart. "Dude, hold on."

"Ask her out, man."

"Not now, dude, I've been plotting for months now, I can't just-"

"Dude, do you trust me?" Topper stopped and looked dead in the eyes.

"No." Rafe stated before Topper rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the fifty-th time that day.

"I don't care, now come on." He pushed Rafe towards the cart before grabbing the back of his collar, making him walk towards you. If this was any other situation, Rafe would've landed a punch to Top's jaw but he didn't wanna scare you off, so he kept his cool.

You stared the two as they approached the cart. They seemed too... normal. They were both smiling and you felt like they were plotting. You know for a fact that Topper is.

"Hey."

"Hi." They both said in union, making Rafe look back at Topper, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What can I get you two?" There was unnecessary awkwardness between the three of you as they both looked at each other.

"Two... sodas."

"Sodas?" You looked assumed. Were they 12?

Topper looked back at you. "Yes."

As you reached for the cooler, you heard Topper make an 'O' sound. You turned around.

"Oh shit. I forgot my wallet, I will be right back. Rafe, you stay here and get us the sodas, alright?"

Rafe looked back with his teeth gritted, a warning to Topper. "Topper."

He shrugged. "I'll be right back." He jogged away as you and Rafe made eye contact.

You knew that he knew what you had told Topper. And then, Rafe realized the same thing. He didn't know what Topper had told you but he just hopes it wasn't too embarrassing.

"Um. I never asked but um, what sodas do you want?"

"Ginger ale. I'm pretty Topper wants something girly like Diet Coke or something like that." Rafe mumbled the last part but you heard it. You let a horrendously loud laugh because you knew Topper would get a Diet Coke.

You suddenly felt embarrassed but it melted as you heard Rafe's small laugh as well. Butterflies filled your stomach as you heard him.

"Okay, then. One ginger ale and uh... a Diet Coke." You laughed a little after, making Rafe smile.

As you handed him the Ginger Ale, your hands touched and you felt like your face was on fire. You quickly pulled away.

"Hey, uh..." Rafe started. "Did Topper say anything about me?"

"In what way?"

"Um, I don't know... something involving you?" Rafe inquired as you smiled.

"Did he say anything to you about me?"

"Maybe." He dragged out the 'e' sound as you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

"Topper may have mentioned a few things about you. But they weren't bad. They were actually a little... admiring to hear."

He went red as he looked down at his feet. "Topper just loves to run his mouth."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah. He definitely loves to gossip."

He laughed at your wording. "He said some stuff about you, too. It was... admiring, too."

Your cheeks had begun to hurt from smiling this hard and it'd been only a couple minutes.

"Okay." Rafe sighed. "Are we talking about the same thing-"

"Yes, we are. I think."

Rafe was going to have to push all his pride and ego just this time. "I think that you're really pretty... and if you're not with JJ, I'd love to take you out on a date."

You had forget he heard that part. "I'm not with JJ."

"Okay, then what do you say?"

"Yes, Rafe." You smiled at him and he swore his heart did a little flip at the sound of that.

"Okay," he sounded breathless.

You then turned in your cart, looking for a piece of paper and your pen. You found one and then wrote down your number. You turned back and handed it to him. "Text me and then we can sort out the details, okay?"

"Yeah, for sure."

Topper finally walked back, wallet in hand, a big grin on his tanned face. He looked down at the paper in his hand and gave Rafe a proud pat on the back.

"Here's your Diet Coke," you held in your laugh as you gave the drink to Topper. Rafe smiled back at you as Topper opened it quickly and took a big gulp.

"Thank you. I knew you'd know my favorite drink, Y/N." He took out a 5 dollar bill and gave it to you before winking and you felt yourself cringe at Topper as you took the 5.

He and Rafe walked away and you stood there, your heart beating fast as you watched them walk away.

"What'd I say? Trust me, Rafe, I promise it'll work out and look, it worked out!"

"Yeah, for once, dude."

"Oh, shut up."

You heard their argument and laughed to yourself, getting back into your cart to drive to the next course.

[cobaltperun]

Breathless

Bottom Tara Carpenter x top female Reader (Smut, minors DO NOT interact)

Strap-on, Reader being kinda dom? Slight overstimulation, usual stuff really.

Right, much like Lost in your eyes this is basically Lost 19.5 (It also happens before the first flashback scene of Lost 20) though, as long as you ignore the few details it can be read as a stand-alone.

Lost Masterlist

Word count: 2.4k

It’s been almost two months since Bailey tried to kill your family, since you nearly bleed out due to stab wounds and a rusty rebar going through you. You survived, and you were recovering at a fairly good pace, but it was a close call, too close for both your and Tara’s liking.

Your eyes still glanced down at the scar from the rebar when you stepped out of the shower. It came in through your lower back and went diagonally, exiting your body just beneath your chest and it was nothing short of a miracle that nothing important was damaged and that only the scar remained. Sighing, you grabbed your clothes and put them on, a comfortable shirt that was a bit loose on you now, since you still haven’t regained all of your muscles, and tracksuit pants since you wanted to just relax with Tara.

The moment you joined Tara in your bedroom she threw her arms around you and pulled you into a kiss. She clutched the back of your shirt and ran her fingers through your hair, tugging gently as she deepened the kiss. Her tongue slipped into your mouth, and you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her as close to you as physically possible.

"So needy," you chuckled when she pulled back for a moment, a string of saliva still connected your and Tara’s lips.

"Like you aren't?" she challenged, looking fiercely into your eyes and you felt a shiver run down your spine at the look in her eyes.

It’s been a bit too long, between your busy schedule before all of you were attacked, and then your recovery and all the other things that required your and Tara’s attention it’s easily been two months since you last made love. "Mhm, I definitely am," you admitted as you leaned down, kissing her neck.

"Baby," she moaned when you nipped at the side of her neck and you immediately pulled back, looking at her wide-eyed. Tara blushed but kept looking at you. "Baby, please," she said again, acting as if she never stopped saying that word all the while gently caressing the back of your neck.

"Say it again," you demanded, lifting her up, taking a few steps to the side and pushing her against the wall. You could feel her pressing her body against yours and wrapping her legs around you. You looked at her face, at her lower lip stuck between her teeth as her cheeks turned dark red.

"Baby," she moaned into your ear as you unbuttoned the top buttons of her, previously your, button-up shirt and yanked it down, and since it was way too big for her it just fell from her shoulders.

"Again, Love," you needed to keep hearing her say it.

"Baby!" she cried out, maybe even a bit too loudly as you began kissing her bare shoulders and tugging the straps of her bra down, but with the shirt still on it was a bit of a hustle to do what you wanted.

“I need you,” you hissed, desperate for her consent to take it further, to strip her in every sense of that word, to make love to her and make her cum until either of you couldn’t take it anymore.

Tara made you lift your head up and looked you in the eyes. “Yeah? So do something about it, fuck me hard,” she pulled you in for a brief, passionate kiss. “Harder than ever befo-oh fuck, Y/N!” she cried out, gasping as you unzipped her jeans and slipped your hand into her panties.

Taking her jeans off would take too much time, taking any bit of her clothing would take too much time, and you didn’t want to spend one extra second without Tara coming undone in your arms. You hastily unbuttoned the shirt just enough to lift her bra up. And you lifted her up higher so you didn’t have to lean down too much to pull her nipple between your lips. “Damn you’re wet,” you hissed, her walls tightening around your fingers the moment you slipped them inside. The slight discomfort and awkward position of your hand didn’t matter, not when Tara was arching her back, digging her fingers into our hair and back.

“All for you, Baby, Only for-“ she gasped when you began rubbing her clit. “Don’t edge me, please, just keep fucking me,” she cried out, covering her mouth to silence the lustful sounds coming from her mouth.

You pinned her hand to the side of her head. “None of that,” you rasped, smirking when you felt how tight she suddenly got. “Oh, you like that?”

Tara nodded, not trusting her voice. She wailed, her moans and cries of pleasure covering up the wet sounds of your fingers pumping into her. She nearly threw her head back against the wall, she would have, if you didn’t put your hand on the back of her head to cushion the impact. “Please, please let me cum,” she pleaded, already desperate. “Please,” she repeated, her legs trembling and even in the lustful haze you knew she couldn’t keep them wrapped around you for much longer. And you were out of hand.

“Cum for me,” but you wanted her to cum just like this, pinned to the wall with three fingers pumping in and out of her while your thumb rapidly rubbed her clit. She bit her lip again and you pressed your thumb against it. Without thinking, without the two of you ever doing it before, Tara opened her mouth and sucked on your thumb. Her eyes, clouded by lust, met your own and she whimpered, her entire body convulsing and her mouth opened in a silent gasp.

“That’s it, Love,” you whispered softly, pulling your thumb out of her mouth so you could keep her body up as she slumped against you. “I got you,” you gently kissed her neck as your own high and lust-fueled haze passed. You focused on Tara’s deep breaths, on her body still occasionally twitching in your arms and the quiet whines as you slipped your fingers out of her pussy and just gently rubbed her to help her calm down.

“Again, please,” Tara wasn’t interested in slowing down though, as she tried to incite you to keep going. “It’s not enough,” she was breathing heavily, close to gasping for air, but she needed more. She needed your fingers, tongue, your strap, she needed your skin against her own, your weight on top of her, or however you wanted to take her, as long as you kept going until all she could feel and sense was you. “Please, Baby,” she kissed you neck, biting you slightly as she tried to push your buttons again.

“You sure you don’t need to catch your breath?” oh she loved you, but she needed you to be rough, not gentle.

“Don’t slow down, don’t stop, just keep going until I can’t even say your name,” her voice was shaky from the orgasm you just gave her, but she uttered those words with as much conviction and desire as she possibly could.

Your eyes narrowed and her heart threatened to skip a beat, there it was again, that same wild look you had on before she came. “You know how to stop me,” se swooned at that, one word would stop everything, even if she never used it before, and she knew she wouldn’t need to do it this time either.

You pushed away from the wall and pulled your hand out of Tara’s panties so you could carry her to the bed and grab the strap-on along the way. For now, you just let it lay on the bed, just reminding Tara of what was coming as you laid her down on the bed as well. She looked completely disheveled, her bra skewed and lifted above her breasts, the shirt barely bunched up, wrinkled and barely being held closed over her belly by two buttons threatening to fall off, and her jeans, soaked through. “Damn, Tara,” you were tempted to leave her just like this, to just pull her jeans down enough to fuck her. You took a deep breath and unbuttoned the last two buttons, and somehow, the flushed cheeks and disheveled hair won you over to just leave her like this. You just pulled her jeans and panties down about half-way down her thighs and looked her in the eyes.

She was tingling with anticipation, not sure how you were going to continue this, she just knew she was fine with anything you wanted. And if that, apparently, meant she’d keep her clothes on, then so be it.

“On your hands and knees, turn toward the mirror” you ordered, and Tara felt her clit throbbing, she could definitely get used to this side of you. She turned around and placed a pillow in front of her, just in case. She waited, not daring to look behind or at the mirror, but she heard you preparing the strap and, as sneakily as she could, slipped her hand between her legs and began rubbing while burying her face in the pillow, your pillow. She was so wet, ready for you to fuck her as she bit your pillow to silence her moans.

“So impatient,” you chastised her, your hands caressing her ass and thighs, while reaching around her to keep her hand in place. “Keep doing that,” you whispered, kneeling behind her and spreading her legs as much as her jeans allowed you to. She shivered as you kissed her thighs, one after another until finally reaching her pussy, but you didn’t aim to make her cum, you were just cleaning her up a bit, just tasting her and moaning against her opening. “Are you ready?” you asked, and she nodded quickly.

“Yes!” she gasped, knowing you wanted her to say it.

You didn’t reply, you just pulled her fingers away from her pussy and slowly pushed the strap in. You started slow, like you always did, especially since it’s been a while since she last had anything aside from her fingers inside her, but you went deeper than she was used to. “Baby,” she sighed, opening her eyes and looking at the mirror, at the focused look on your face as you watched her face in the mirror, drunk on the pleasure she wasn’t even trying to hide. You leaned over her, pumping faster while reaching under her to grasp her breasts while your other hand moved from her thigh, underneath her shirt and across her side, just caressing her, slowly building her up again with no intention of edging her this time. And as much as she loved being edged by you she loved this just as much. The pace getting faster, your thrusts harder, as her back arched and her lungs struggled to get oxygen.

Yet, she didn’t panic, she had complete faith in you as she only focused on reaching that high from before. Once again she buried her face in your pillow, making it even harder to breathe, but she just couldn’t hold her body up anymore. Instead she once again began rubbing her clit, her moans becoming less and less audible. And then, her faith in you paid off, as you lifted her upper body up and her lungs filled with air.

“Breathe, Love,” you reminded her, kissing her neck as you sped up. You hugged her tightly, buried your face in her hair and swallowed hard. Her now free hand reached behind her, touching your chin and making you look her in the eyes and she came undone. “Keep going?” you still asked.

“Please,” she gasped, turning back to the mirror to look at the two of you. Her face turned red when she watched the dripping strap repeatedly penetrate her.

“See how good you’re taking me?” you asked, kissing her neck and reaching down to spread her lips slightly. “I’m not going to stop, don’t worry,” you assured her.

She finally saw exactly what you saw before, her open button-up shirt with over half the buttons torn off. Drops of her cum dripping down to her panties, you standing behind her, holding her protectively as she raced toward her third orgasm. You must have gotten tired of her shirt, because you pulled it off her along with her bra and she saw just how flushed her skin was. Her nipples still glistened from your saliva, erect and desperate for your attention, so she grabbed your hands and pulled them to her breasts, sighing in content as you got the message and rubbed her nipples between your fingers.

And in that moment, with her head thrown back on your shoulder, when all she could feel was you, she tried, so, so, desperately, to utter your name. “Y-“ she tried, she really did, barely getting the first letter of your name out before she whimpered, rolling her hips back to meet your every thrust. “Daddy,” she gasped eventually, the slip of the tongue paying off as you sped up. She could feel you tensing behind her, you were close, just as close as she was. “Make me cum,” she pleaded, gasping when she once again came around your strap.

“Say that again,” you tightly closed your eyes.

“Daddy!” her mind still didn’t catch up with the way she was calling you, too lost in pleasure to care for what she was saying, she just knew it had effect on you as you pulled out, removed her ruined jeans and panties and buried your tongue deep inside her, prolonging her orgasm just enough to truly make her unable to breathe, even as you lied her down on the bed.

“Can’t,” she gasped, and it was as if she pulled a switch as you slowed down, only doing enough to slowly bring her down from her high, and she smiled at that. For the first time you actually made her stop you, and she couldn’t have been happier and more satisfied. “Please,” she muttered as you came up and pecked her lips with a smile on your face. You raised an eyebrow but then she pointed toward her inhaler, just so she could get her breathing under control faster. You truly, absolutely, left her breathless.

A/N: Somehow I have no idea if this is any better or worse than the first one. That's what I get for trying to write smut I guess.

Taglist: @alexkolax

[nickfurysrighteye]

Practise?

chase davenport x reader

summary: the school's gonna do a play and it's gonna be Romeo and Juliet. Chase was supposed to help with the behind the scenes but instead he gets to play Romeo, and you, Juliet, offer him some help with his lines..

cw: sfw, kissing, that's it i think

a/n: this is my first time writing for this fandom and also my first time making my writing public so please be kind :') ...i haven't written any type of fanfic in a veeeery long time. this is just for fun!!!

"Seriously?! I can't believe it!"

Janelle yells storming into the gym. Everybody stops what they're doing to look at her puzzled. This year Mission Creek High decided to organize a play and upon a great request it was decided to stage 'Romeo and Juliet'. Janelle volunteered to direct the entire planning of it.

"Our Romeo decided it was a great time to break his arm, therefore we don't have a Romeo anymore!" she says walking towards Leo, who's busy painting the fake wooden balcony. Leo decided to take part in the production only to have an excuse to be with Janelle, and doing so he dragged Chase along, just to have some company.

A few people gather around to see what was going on, you take your eyes off the script you were revising to look at your classmates on the opposite site of the room.

"So? What's the big deal?" says Leo "The understudy can take his place."

"The big deal is we don't have an understudy! We barely have enough people working on this play, do you really think we have extras?" Janelle is furious.

"Why don't we pick somebody from the crew?" you barge into the conversation, feeling the eyes of everyone onto you "I mean, it's not like we have time to redo auditions.."

Everybody is silent, eyes going left and right scanning the room for someone brave enough to take on one of the leading roles. You look behind Leo's shoulder "I bet Chase could do it."

Chase was surprised and slightly confused by your statement "Me? But I'm not an actor." he says, struggling to speak loud enough to be heard.

"Neither am I, and neither is everyone else..this is a high school play not Broadway, no of us are actors." you shrug while looking over to the brown haired boy.

Janelle looks over to him "Chase, do you think you could do it? You'd be a life saver, honestly." you could hear the tension in her voice from all the stress the planning brought her.

"I-i mean, sure I could give it a try" Chase tried so hard to sound confident in his choice but you could hear the slight tremor in his tone.

"Perfect, problem solved!" Janelle said.

Once everyone got back to work you get closer to Chase, "If you want we can practise the lines together, I could also give you some tips."

"Sure, I'd love that." Chase says with a sweet, soft smile. "Cool, you can stop by at my house today if that's ok." you smile back

"Yeah, sure, I'll see you later."

-

After school, the two brothers head to the lab and Chase is panicking, regretting the choice he made earlier that day. "Why would I agree to do something like this?! Why didn't you stop me Leo?! This is going to be a disaster! The play's gonna suck!" he spits out the words so quickly he can barely keep up with his thoughts.

"Chase chill out! You'll be fine, like Y/n said no one here's an actor, you're all gonna suck" Leo's already tired of his complaining.

Chase's worry isn't only his acting, but the fact he's gonna be the lead in a romantic play with you as his love interest. He's also terrified by the idea of having to kiss you multiple times on stage, in front of a ton of people. This is stressing him out way more than anticipated.

He already knew who you were long before taking part in this project. He saw you walk around the halls, he saw you sitting a couple of desks in front of him in some classes you have together. He always thought about you as the pretty girl he would only talk to in his imagination. Nobody could have predicted the two of you acting as lovers in a school play. Certainly not Chase.

-

With his heart beating out of his chest, Chase knocks on your front door. You open the door and invite him in. "We can go upstairs in my room" you say, guiding him upstairs.

You go through the script together, focusing on the more difficult parts to memorize. You're suprised Chase could memorize all these lines so quickly, and he's getting better at getting into character.

He says every line with the right feeling, you two work in harmony, it's like you're no longer acting as the characters but are living the story as yourselves.

"You're quite talented you know that Chase?" you smile

"Thanks, I'm actually a bit nervous if I'm being honest." he chuckes while lowering his eyes, looking at his fingers fidgeting with the corner of the script's page.

"How come? You're doing great." you tilt you're head slightly. You sit on your bed, taking a small break.

He shrugs, sitting down beside you "I don't know, I just am" he mumbles.

You stare at him with a soft gaze, you study his expression, you're lightly mesmerized by the way the light beam from the setting sun is hitting his face, shining through your window. His eyes now being a warmer hazel tone.

He can hear the beat of his heart in his ears "Actually, I'm scared 'cause --" he stops "I'm worried about our kiss."

"Our kiss?"

"Yeah, it scares me a little having to kiss in front of an audience."

"It's gonna be a quick kiss don't worry about it."

"I know, it's just that --" he looks down again "I've never done it before."

"You've never kissed anyone?" you say, the slight surprise in your voice makes him feel even worse now.

"It's fine Chase, I get it. There's no need to be ashamed of it." you try to reassure him. "Wanna practise?"

"The kiss?" he looks at you.

"Yeah, I mean, we probably should anyway since it's part of the play." you say, standing up and placing yourself in front of him like you would be on stage.

"Yeah, ok, that's..a good idea" he stands up as well. Chase tries to hide his uncertainty.

"You sure about this?" you ask, you don't want to pressure him.

"A hundred percent" he's anxious, he's rubbing subtly his hands on his jeans because they're starting to sweat, his knees get weaker and he hopes they'll be strong enough to support him.

"Ok now, just follow my lead." you take his hand, leaning nearer. Your other hand cupping his cheek, your lips are now inches apart. Your touch feels warm on his skin, making him breathe faster.

"Close your eyes." as he does so, your place your lips onto his gently, and start to slowly and softly kiss him.

A warm feeling of joy starts to bubble up in his chest as he copies your movements and picks up the pace. The kiss gets more intense, more impatient as he tastes your lips. You get closer and your hand that was on his cheek is now on the back of his neck, tangling your fingers with his hair. His hands start to move, although he's still unsure of what to do.

You stop for a brief moment. "It's ok if you wanna touch me, y'know." Chase laughs a little, he then places his hands on your sides, sliding them down to your waste. He grabs a little harder and pull you into another kiss, this time greedier, messier.

He didn't think it would feel this good kissing you, his heart is racing so fast you could probably hear it. Your lips are exploring eachother, you're both enjoying this much more than you should be. After a few moments Chase decides to wet your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, you part your lips a bit and he slips part of his tongue in. The feeling of your tongues tasting eachother sends shivers down your spine, you feel your cheeks getting warmer.

"You taste amazing" he blurs out the moment he stops to catch his breath, then he pulls you again into another kiss. His words make you melt.

Chase has lost track of time. Actually he has lost track of anything, he can only feel you. Your lips, your tongue, your taste, the sweet smell of your perfume and the warmth of your body standing so close to his. A few moments pass and you pull away to catch your breath, your faces still close to eachother.

"Was i good?" his question makes you chuckle.

"Yeah, you were. You know the kiss isn't supposed to last this long though, right?"

"Sorry i got a bit carried away." Chase laughs a little. You smile softly, caressing his cheek with your thumb.

"I don't think you're gonna have problems on stage, Chase"

"Although we should probably get back to revising the lines"

"We should, but after we're done we should go back to the kissing part, just to be sure"