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#my friend got mad at me for saying this but i still stand by it /lhj
samandcolbyownme · 2 days
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I saw you asked for a Jared request, so here it is :). Can we get a Jared imagine where the reader has a kid from a previous relationship, and how would they (Jared and kid) get along
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Nothing Changes | Jared Bailey
Warnings: i don’t think there’s any.. if there is let me know!
Word Count: 1.1k | unedited
Six • months • ago
You still couldn’t believe you were here, sitting at a restaurant waiting for this man to show up.
A part of you thought you were being punked, even thought you had countless phone and FaceTime calls to prove that this was actually happening.
You stood up as soon as you seen him walk in.
He walks over to you, a beautiful smile on his face and all you can do is babble about how sorry you are for being so early.
“Hey, hey. I’m actually late..” he looks down at his watch and back up to you, “So, you were actually right on time.”
You both sit down and he can’t help but look at you. You look up at him and you can see his cheeks turning a slight red color as he laughs nervously, “Sorry, you’re just.. you’re so beautiful.”
His words make your heart flutter, “Oh.” You smile, looking down as your own cheeks turn red, “Thank you.”
A little while into the dinner, the question was just getting too much for you not to ask, “So. Can I ask you something?”
He nods, “Of course, what’s up?”
“Are you okay with the fact that I’m a mom?” You were instantly anxious, the look on his face was confusing, “I just.. he’s important to me and if you’re not go-“
“Nothing changes how I feel about you. In fact, I think it’s kind of hot that you’re a mom.” His words caught you off guard, but in a good way, “Oh, wow.” You smirk slightly, “Thank you.”
“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t-“ Jared laughs and you reach out, touching his hand with yours, “No, don’t apologize.”
His eyes move from yours hand on his, up to your eyes and you knew he was going to be the one, or so you hoped.
Six • months •later
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
You look up at Jared and you nod, “Only if you are.. I know this.. is a big step, for both of us.”
“I plan on keeping you, and your son, in my life for as long as you’ll allow, okay?” Jared raises his brows and you smile, trying not to tear up at his words as you nod.
He pulls you in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “I love you, and I know I’m going to love that little boy just as much because he’s a part of you.”
Jared always knew how to calm you down, in more situations than one.
He was your safe place, the person you reopened yourself up to.
You wanted this to work.
“I love you.” You smile as he pulls you in, hugging you tighter as he leans back into the couch, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. I promise.”
You nod against his chest, relaxing into him until you hear the door open. You instantly sit up and look at Jared, “My kid’s home.”
He laughs, standing up to pull you with him, “I’m excited to meet him.”
“Mama!” You turn when you hear little feet running across the floor, growing louder as they get closer, “Mama!”
You turn around, bending down to pick the child up from the floor, “Hi, baby. Did you have a fun time with grandma?”
“Yes!” Mad yells as your mom walks in. She smiles and waves to Jared, “Hi honey.”
“Hello, Kelly. How are you?” Jared smiles and she nods, “can’t complain.” She laughs and you turn towards Jared, “Max, can you say hi to Jared?”
The boy looks up at Jared who’s smiling at him and shyly waves his hand before lunging towards him giggling.
Jared takes him and you watch as you smile, “Do you like him?”
Max laughs and looks at him, smiling when Jared turns his head, “Hi buddy.” Max wraps his arms around his neck and starts pointing when he sees his toys on the floor, “Toys!”
“You wanna show me your toys?” Jared sets max down and Max pulls him over by the finger. Your mom comes up, laying a hand on your shoulder, “I think you just lost your best friend spot.”
You laugh quietly, taking in Jared playing with Max, “I don’t mind. I think, this is going very well.
And it was.
Jared picked up on Max almost instantly. He helped as much as he could, he basically stepped into being a dad without even hesitating, but that’s because he loves you.
Thankfully, you had a few people in your group that you could trust, so you and Jared could go have ‘mommy and daddy date nights’ as Zach says.
You knew it was a lot, being a step dad and all, but Jared always reminded you that if it was too much, he wouldn’t have never agreed to meet your son in the first place.
He also always tells you that he’s glad he did.
——
Flash forward a few months and you’re standing at Max’s birthday party. You take a step back, shaking your head slightly as you take in the completely, and beautifully decorated venue.
“I told you it would be fine.” Y/f/n walks up to you, “If I didn’t know the situation, you’d think Max was actually Jared’s.”
You smile, shaking your head, “I don’t know what I was so afraid of.” You turn your head as you see Max running up to you, Jared following behind, “I’m four!”
You nod your head, looking between Jared and your friend, “You are four, honey! Good job!” You give max a hug and set him down so he can run and play with the other kids.
Your friend gives you a smirk before she walks away. You turn to Jared and you shake your head, “You didn’t have to do all of this.”
He cups your cheeks, “I know I didn’t have to, baby..” He plants a kiss to your lips, an arm wrapping around your waist, “I wanted to.”
You smile and pull him back in, “Thank you.” Your lips meet his and he smiles, “C’mon. Let’s go get you a dinosaur hat.”
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——
I hope you liked this. I deleted it and rewrote it like three times. So I’m hoping third time’s the charm. Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading, I love you so much!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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myfairstarlight · 2 days
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Good day friend! I've been really enjoying your takes for bridgerton this season :D Would love to hear your thoughts about part 2, particularly Colin's character portrayal if you're at all inclined!
Well hello there dear, thank you!
And what a coincidence, because Colin's portrayal, always the polarising topic in this fandom it seems, has been on my mind ever since I finished watching part 2... I shall ramble here then! I hope you do not mind a long answer, dear reader, for my last analysis post was not a quick read indeed. And I will now also stop trying to sound like Whistledown.
So, overall thoughts? I think he was handled mostly brilliantly, actually. And thus still despite the pacing issues (but that's an overall issue I have with the show, not specific to this season). Controversial take, already, so let's break it down a bit.
I will try to organise my rambling, but this is pretty much my immediate thoughts after watching the season. Perhaps I'll make a more organised and proper post later, adding Penelope's side, like my friends to lovers love letter, but we'll see! So:
Colin's journey to self-love
Because just like Penelope, though we arguably see it less, Colin has his own journey to loving himself because the thing with Colin is that he's still so insecure. Yes, he's more himself in part 2 now that he realised he's in love, he no longer tries to pretend to be someone he's not, but he still struggles to prove himself, and we see it in those last two episodes, when the truth is truly out. People are harsh on him for being so caught up in what Whistledown wrote and constantly celebrating the idea that LW might meet her demise, almost like a child who just got some sweets, but as we've seen in his discussion with Eloise after the reveal, it's because Whistledown calling him out at the beginning of the season for his new persona poked at his biggest insecurity, and he's still stuck on that, even more so now that he learns Penelope was behind the words, the one person who always made him feel seen and in this case, made him feel too seen. To me, him bringing up Marina so insistently was him grasping at straws, clinging to the one thing he knows for sure was unfair so he does not have to face the fact that what Penelope wrote was the truth (sidenote, was a little disappointed they did not have Penelope say she did try to talk to him about Marina but he literally did not listen and did not care that Marina loved another). He is still trying to find who he is and for a moment, he thought he had it, thanks to the very person now making him question everything all over again.
And oh boy does he not cope well.
Hero complex and what it means to be the man of the house
Colin has a hero complex. That's news to absolutely no one, unless you have not paid attention, so I won't make a list of the instances in previous seasons again. But we see it right away in e5 as he stands up for Penelope in front of Portia, then constantly shielding Penelope as soon as Cressida is involved. Penelope even thanks him for it, telling her no one has ever stood up for her of the sort, which fuels his hero complex. In fact, it is Colin's protectiveness that leads him to learn Penelope is Whistledown since he followed her out of worry, and that leads him to the realisation that she may not need him as much as he thought she did (and in his mind, perhaps she even just pretended to need him, to love him). And that, along with discovering that secret, shatters him. His whole sense of purpose, the one thing he thought he could for sure provide? Gone, just like that.
Even more so later when he learns she may be richer than him lol
So he overcompensates. When Cressida's blackmail is revealed, he does not listen, he jumps on the opportunity to prove himself, to protect his wife even if he's still mad at her, no one can disrespect her and his family so blatantly. As the man of the house, he needs to do what he must. And then he fucking fails and makes things far worse. And you know what? How satisfying it was that for once he failed, arguably when it was the most important for him, to remind him that hey, don't get on your high horse, listen to your wife and your family, don't try to handle everything on your own! (A lesson that Penelope also has to learn at the same time! That's marriage baby!) I like that he gets humbled twice, by Penelope and Cressida, the person he loves most and the one he despises so, yet they both throw the truth at him - he's privileged, as a man, and as a Bridgerton. He gets to question himself, travel to his whim, be even reckless like he just was because he will always have unconditional love from his family, but Penelope had to hide a part of herself to be able to do something she likes, meanwhile Cressida has to resort to questionable means to avoid getting married off to an old man. They do not have the luxury that Colin has to just do things. And it pains him to face that.
I've seen the sentiment that part 2 has Penelope be more assertive than Colin, with the dynamic shifting again when it should not, and while it is true she is the one who seeks him out more, it makes sense, she is seeking his forgiveness all throughout the last two episodes. I love her, but you cannot argue she is not at fault here and Colin deserves to be upset and a bit withdrawn as he deals with the conflicting feelings suddenly assaulting him. Yes the entrapment accusation hurt especially since he was the one who couldn't keep his hands to himself, but with his history after Marina, it makes sense that's what his hurt mind decides to focus on that, to justify the fact he's still so upset (It does bother me he never apologises for that comment though, at the same time Penelope doesn't hold it against him. They, or the writers, probably forgot about it.) But I would also argue that him being so troubled, is a proof of love, he even says so to Eloise "you are lucky you've never been in love" because if he wasn't, this would be much easier to deal with. Despite it all, he loves her, he chooses her, he will protect her, he must. He decides to sleep on the sofa to still stay close to Penelope despite the fact he could just sleep in one of the empty bedrooms. He still reassures her during their wedding, with one look encouraging her to walk more confidently down the aisle, and he holds her oh so tenderly when they dance at the wedding breakfast. He's so upset, but he's still so much in love. Of course, unlike part 1, there's no urgency or desperation on his part, there's no Debling threatening to take Penelope away, or him trying to earn back her favours so of course suddenly his displays of love feel less outward. But again, they're arguing, no he will not forgive her so easily, and that's a good thing, yet he's still here to support and protect her, and that says so much because again, he could just leave, that would have no consequence to him as a man. And in kind, Penelope makes an effort to do better as well, no longer witholding any secret from him, and he sees that.
And deep down, he understands Penelope, we see it when he confronts Cressida and perfectly described why Penelope became LW without her telling him in such words beforehand, because he's had similar struggles, he just needs to admit it, and be okay to show this vulnerability with her.
Colin's writer struggles and jealousy.
Now, I must admit, this was the weakest and a bit disappointing part of his arc to me, which is why I'm writing it last. I wish we could have had more time exploring that, and not just being told so (hopefully in s4? Assuming the writers won't pull a Kate and Anthony and constantly have them leave for no reason). This, however, adds to the previous part and Colin's struggle to provide, be the man of the house.
Here his wife is, an accomplished writer, even if under a pen name, who may be richer than he, oh how it must have deepened his insecurity. After all, if he cannot provide protection, or financial stability, then what good is he to her? What good are his silly journals when compared to that damn column that has all of Mayfair on a chokehold?
And yet.
Is it not telling and precious that he kept all of Penelope's letters? And that they're the catalyst of reminding him why he loves her so much, and how her love for writing and her cleverness shine through and that it is unfair of him to expect her to give it up when he himself aspires to be a writer? Writing is what brings them together truly, the same way writing letters to each other was the precursor for him realising his feelings as well. He is at peace then, Penelope is Whistledown, and she shines with her pen, and Colin fell in love with her quill, long ago, he was just overcome with grief to realise Whistledown held the same brilliance.
And sure, Penelope does not need him to provide, but she loves writing so much, and it inspires Colin in his own writing as well. And I also think it's super cute that he was going through a writer's block until Penelope told him she's loved him for years and suddenly the gates were opened (granted, this was before the reveal but now imagine post-reveal, as he struggles to edit and write, Penelope comes up beside him telling him he's doing well and boom, he's determined to write again).
But, back to the topic at hand, most importantly... he offers her love and support, even through all this battle, he unconsciously kept caring for her, and that's what Penelope craves, just someone there for her.
And that? That Colin can absolutely be, and he will proudly take on the role of her husband rather than "the man".
So I think this about wraps it up! Colin is the definition of a sensitive man trying his best to tough it up, a third son who struggles to find a place in this world. But he found a woman who does not need him to be what he is not, the one woman who will love him not for what he can provide, but for who he truly is, kind and incredibly empathetic. The one woman who fell in love with him because she made him fall off a horse and instead of yelling because of a bruised ego, he laughed at his own expense.
And I just think Colin Bridgerton is neat.
Also as I hit post it's 2AM for me so if some of this doesn't make sense, that's why, don't hold it against me, thank you dear one <3
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kamii-2 · 11 hours
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hey pookie! so since it’s ice’s birthday maybe you should write a smut for her when your request are open!
-👾
(ik your request aren’t open but when they are you should totally make this)
hi 👾 anon!! i love this request so much and im so sorry this is late but i hope you enjoy it!!
warning(s): cussing, smut
genre: smut & fluff
pairing(s): ice brady x reader
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for ice’s birthday she wanted to hang out with her friends and family and obviously you, so you guys went out to dinner with her friends and we’re going to visit her family later that week.
after dinner on the way back to your apartment ice seemed a little upset. “what’s wrong baby?” you questioned glancing over at her while you drove, “you didn’t get me anything for my birthday. you’re the only person who didn’t, even my family members sent me something.” ice answered while clearly getting more mad. “ice you’re about to get your present when we go back to my apartment, it’s more than one thing too.” you told her trying to not spoil what it was. ice smiled at your answer and didn’t ask any more questions.
the moment you guys parked she immediately got out and went to the driver side to open the door and drag you out. she figured out what the surprise was the moment you replied to her in the car earlier. she grabbed your hand and took you all the way to your apartment, not letting go of your hand once. “i can tell you’re excited.” you smiled at her while giving her a kiss that she immediately turned into making out. she pulled away just for a second, “jump.” she said while moving her hands from your waist so you could jump up. she grabbed your waist and you wrapped your arms around her neck and continued to kiss her.
she pulled away to walk to your room as you kissed her neck and left hickies, “fuck.” she breathily whined out. when you guys got to the bedroom she say you down on the bed, “i wanna top tonight. it’s your birthday and i barely ever get to fuck you.” you pulled her in with your legs and looked up at her with doe eyes, “that’s fine with me but i have to get you at least once tonight.” she agreed while grabbing your hands. you smiled hard at this and immediately started to take off your girlfriends jean shorts. “do you plan of fucking me while i stand?” she jokingly questioned, “shit you’re right, lay down.” you told her as she went and sat down on the bed. you pushed her back a little for better access and took off her jeans and underwear.
she spread her legs for you and leaned back on her elbows to watch you. you sucked on her clit softly and put two fingers in her, thrusting in and out slowly. there wasn’t enough pleasure for ice’s liking, she grinding on your face and fingers to get more but it didn’t work, you were doing it on purpose. “cmon bro stop playing please.” she whined out, instead of listening you pulled away completely. before she could complain you plunged two fingers in her and went as fast as you could, “oh!” she moaned at the sudden pleasure.
you thrusted your fingers in and out of her at a fast pace not stopping once. after a few more thrusts you added your mouth and sucked on her clit, this made her body jolt with pleasure. “oh my God, please don’t stop.” she begged while putting her hand on the back of your head, pushing you face more. you pulled out your fingers and put your tongue inside of her, eating her like she was your last meal and rubbing her clit with your thumb.
while you were eating her out she felt you spelling something with your tongue but she couldn’t tell what you spelt. “what- fuck! what did you s-spell?” she stuttered out, “happy birthday isuneh.” you replied still tongue-fucking her. this send chills down her spine for 2 reasons, one, she was surprised that you would do that, two, the vibrations from you talking inside of her filled her with a huge amount of pleasure. you kept fucking her while she moaned out your name and grounded into your face for more pleasure. “oh, i’m so close.” she moaned out as her legs began to shake a little. after a few more licks she came all over your tongue and mouth.
you stood you from in between her legs and before you could do anything else ice pulled you into her and kissed you, ignoring the fact that you had her cum all over your mouth. “your turn.” she said as she stood up, you sitting on the bed where she was laying. she pushed you back the same way you did to her while taking off your shirt and bra. she kissed from your lips to your stomach, leaving a few hickies here and there, stopping when she reached your shorts. “can i?” she asked while looking up at you, you nodded while lifting yourself up so she can take them off. the moment she removed your shorts and underwear she dived in tongue first, her nose hitting your clit every few seconds. “oh! ice please.” you moaned out while putting your legs on her shoulders, she gripped your legs and went in deeper.
the way her tongue fucked you and her nose hit your clit made you go way over the edge, it felt so good and hoped she wouldn’t take it away from you.
just as you thought it, she pulled away. “why?” you immediately whined out before she could even explain. “chill.” she giggled while putting her fingers in you and playing with your clit with her tongue. she thrusted in and out of you at an insanely fast speed and sucked on your clit harshly. you couldn’t hold it in, cumming all over her mouth and fingers. she pulled out and stood up and sat next to you, holding your hand and rubbing it with the back of her thumb. “i have one more present for you after we get cleaned up.” you told her and you sat up.
-
after you two showered and got dressed she set on the bed on her phone while you got her gift. when you came back she shut her phone off and put all of her attention on you. “okay, here’s your gift.” you smiled at her while handing her the small gift bag. as she took out the items she smiled hard. it was. a matching necklace set with your initial on it and you had one with her initial on it, there was also matching bracelets. when she looked up and you she gave you a big hug and a kiss, “thank you so much.” she said while giving you one last kiss. “you’re welcome, happy birthday.”
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so sorry this took so long to get out but i hope liked it, i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋
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lyrenminth · 2 days
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Can I put in a request for something like you take Justin to a party in your hometown to meet up with some of your friends and you all bump into your ex, Justin gets jealous which surprises you so you want to leave to cheer Justin up because this is the first time you’ve seen him act like this
Similar request: I can you maybe write something about Justin being jealous and protective??
Jealous Justin
The fairy lights strung across the patio cast a warm glow on Y/N's face as she laughed, her head thrown back. Justin, drinking a beer a next to her, couldn't stop staring the very handsome guy who was making her laugh, he watched the scene unfold with a growing knot in his stomach. If he remembered correcty that was Demian, one of her exes, so why in the fucking hell she was laughing with him? And why he was standing like a damn idiot without saying anything?
Demian gaze lingered on him in acknowledgment. "She's that funny, uh?" Demian said. Justin wanted to push him so damn hard, instead he forced a smile. "Yeah, she is." The words felt hollow. He hated the way Demian leaned in, invading their personal space.
Justin's arm grabbed Y/N's waist and pulled her closer. She only smiled at him, oblivious of the intentions of the other man. But he knew, Demian wasn't being friendly, he didn't want to remember the good times. He wanted to bring them back.
"How is your wife anyway?" Y/n asked lookig behind Demian, at the crowd maybe looking for his wife. So the bastard was married and flirting with HER? A muscle in Justin's jaw flicked. "Oh, we are divorced. Two years ago actually" Demian informed. Y/N frowned, confused. "But you got along pretty well" he shrugged, like it was nothing. Justin felt her arm around his waist. "Oh, I guess it was for the best" she said, sadly.
"Do you get along?" Demian asked, at Justin. "Yes, he's my best friend" Y/N said instead, and completely unlike him, he leaned in to kiss her softly in her smooth lips. It shock him as much as her, but it was a brief moment. "She's my rock" he simply said, not wanting to prolong the conversation.
Later, while they eat dinner in a table full of people, she nudged him with ther knee. "Are you okay?" she mouthed, feeling something was off with him. His green eyes were stormy, and since he was so angry and jelous he could only nod.
Seeing her with her ex, laughing and making conversation didn't sit him well. It felt...disrespectful. And there was this weird feeling he has never felt before that made his stomach uneasy. Demian was handsome and carried the conversation with others very well. There wasn't any bone of introversion in him. And Justin...he sighed for the third time.
Y/N picking up his mood, and not wanting to stay anymore in the party said her farewells, Justin acting as polite as always too. In their way to the car, she held his hand. "Tell me what is annoying you" she request. Why she could read him so well? He stopped on his tracks and turned to face her. Her beautiful face was enough to damp his temper. This was Y/N, she was clueless most of the time and she was innately friendly even with the assholes and yet. "I didn't like you were talking with your ex who clearly still has something for you" Justin couldn't hide his bitter tone. She furrowed her eyebrows. "I—I don't think he has something for me, but I understand why are you mad. However, you have nothing to worry" she stood on her tip toes and cupped his face. Justin loved when she did that. "I love you Justin, only you" her tone was so ardent he felt it down there. He held her hips, and squeeze her a bit. "I trust you" he said, she beamed, kissing him once again. Justin's neurons melted, and the only thing he could think of was to remind her who he was.
Her husband, her friend, her partner.
Friendly reminder that requests are still OPEN.
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I've seen my name being thrown around, and I'd like to dot my is and cross my ts on this once and for all.
1- No one said that glossysoap, groguspicklejar or soapskneebrace told their anons "GO HARRASS THIS RACIST" - that's just, once again, y'all misinterpreting our words;
1.1- All that was said was "You are a big blog that accidentally created a witch hunt amidst your followers and even though you didn't mean to, you need to realize you still have influence over them, so you need to make amends";
1.2- I also made a very big point of pointing out that when soapskneebrace posted those screnshots, they acted as if their blog was an "island" and that it was safe to make a comment like that because they believed it would stay 'contained' within their friend group or followers. And that they should've known better because this is the internet, they're 28, and they should know stuff **doesn't** stay isolated. All things can be accessed.
1.3- Another thing I'd like to point out is that soapskneebrace/Madi has admittedly a history of their followers/anons harassing people in their inbox. I don't care that the circumstances are different. They *know* their followers have done such a thing and as a creator (yes, this is not a normal social media, yes, none of us are 'influencers' with proper check marks that make giant moves on the platform, but we all STILL have an influence) they should've known better.
(Their own words below 👇)
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2- Yes, the tone I used was aggressive, cheeky and on-the-offensive and the hashtag I used was in poor taste. I could've handled my **tone** better as well as the way I tried to make my point across. I realize that now once I've had time to cool off and I apologize for the way I spoke.
2.1- I recognize that I didn't help the issue by being as aggressive as I did and, in fact, just caused a bigger commotion. That wasn't fair, and the tone I used wasn't nice or helpful. I'm not a trained psychologist or anything, and I reacted like any normal person should/would, in my opinion. Saw an injustice that was preventable and got upset about it. I promise to thrive to not let my emotions get the better of me, nor to let my tone ever be that aggressive again.
2.2- That's not to say that I don't stand for the things I said. I don't take back what I did. I consider myself an honest person... and if nothing else, it would be dishonest of me to go back on my word. I apologize for my tone but not the message.
3- That being said, I'd like to point out that half of the blogs currently talking about this topic (specifically @ceilidho and @391780) giving their opinions and sharing it with their followers are doing so behind 'closed doors' (aka by blocking the two of us) and doing exactly the same thing soapskneebrace accidentally did: they are accidentally pinning their followers against us by providing a retelling of events and hoping their followers go read up more on their own, despite knowing they have a huge influence and that people on the internet are not gonna do that, and are just gonna take their word for it.
3.1- And frankly I don't think that's fair. I'm not even speaking for myself. I couldn't care less about the abuse coming my way or any boycotting to my future posts or current ones.
3.2- I just wish you both/all would stop putting me and bunny in the same category. You wanna get mad at someone? Get mad at me.
Bunny handled this with not just a lot more maturity than me, but also a lot more elegantly. Bunny strived to educate and to speak respectfully and in a way that was informative when she tackled all the creators involved.
If you go read her replies to the blogs in question, they were measured, understanding, respectful, kind and polite. She made sure they understood all she was seeking from them was some form of accountability, and never meant them any harm.
It's not fair that she's being 'lumped' together with me and getting any harrassment or torment over the fact *I* was aggressive, when she wasn't.
She has always, ALWAYS strived to make her blog a positive space, a safe space too. She has always strived to keep people informed and safe, and to tackle topics in her fics that she sees are lacking in the community.
Bunny has plenty of anons who reach out to her to discuss mental health, disability and other topics of the sort because she's trained for it, and now she's not free to open her inbox anymore because people are also spouting abuse at her.
I just want you all to stop going after her. She deserves your admiration, not your hatred.
Again, you need someone to yell at? To get mad at? I'm right here and I can fucking take it.
My inbox and the anon button are not gonna ever close, just so you all still have a place to go yell at me through while keeping your precious anonymity that emboldens you so.
Kind Regards,
Kea
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So was anyone going to tell me Faust is a bigger menace than EVERYONE in the game put together or like. Was I supposed to play the Impossible Choices event (Vincent and Charles ver) myself. I LOVE that he's the definition of: 'being smarter doesn't make me more mature or helpful, it just makes my inherent lust for chaos/entropy all the more unstoppable' This shit FUCKS
I think this is the first time I've ever seen a character make Shakespeare's life a living hell and the latter didn't expect/see it coming, that was AMAZING. Mf was out here like "What the hell??? You lot don't make me suffer I make YOU suffer. Let a man obsess IN PRIVACY" and then nobody cared. Peak comedic interaction, no notes everyone pack it up
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fakeoutbf · 25 days
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five stages of grief but it’s five stages of social anxiety
#walk with me#this morning i got a bouquet delivered to me at work randomly out of nowhere#the note basically said that i could count of the person even if for just some words of advice or a gesture that could make me laugh or mad#count on the person**#i immediately knew it’s from one of my coworkers and ngl i have a very charged?? relationship with them#in the sense that it’s very intense and we can be laughing joking and teasing or we can be really angry and pissed with each other#it can have very extreme emotions even if we just chill most of the time#idk why i think this whole year i’ve been leaning on them more?? and we started texting more often too#so we’ve been more properly friends lately#and for one i was SO EMBARRASSED for getting flowers bc my coworkers tease the shit out of everyone myself included and i’m not used to#gestures like that so obviously they were on my ass all day about it#and everyone asked about them and it’s EMBARRASSING to get that much attention#(me: i wanna be a singer / also me: can’t stand to be the center of attention)#anyway the person that sent them avoided me yesterday out of nowhere??? idk if they thought i was mad bc i didn’t reply to their texts all#weekend but i literally never reply to anyone and pms was a bitch and i just wanted to be alone#so they didn’t talk to me on monday i was mostly just working listening to music bc i was still emotional whatever#and today i did talk to my other coworkers bc it’s the day when my favorite coworker comes in and i talk to them a lot so i engaged more#and they were still ignoring me and then the flowers came in and we didn’t say a single word to each other today we just texted#they told me they sent them and that ‘they forgot’ what they sent and that it was just meant to be a nice gesture#and that bc they wanted to ‘surprise’ me and make me feel better bc i said i was sad at one point?? idek#i literally just want to tell them I HAD PMS ITS FINE I FEEL SUICIDAL ALL THE TIME and move on#bc now i’m second guessing everything they’re saying bc i thought we were friends and there’s no reason why friends can’t send each other#flowers or whatever but they’ve been avoiding me and then they keep answering my texts really weirdly and i always misinterpret flirting bc#i’m never outright romantic with anyone?? plus we’re FRIENDS i should have no reason to think that’s changed#but they’re being so weird and why get me FLOWERS??? idk get me a chocolate or a coffee i don’t NEED flowers#and then i said it was random to give me flowers out of nowhere and they’re like no it’s serious bro what’s serious??????#your feelings towards me?? or just your will to cheer me up???#if they don’t reply straight up in their next texts i’m gonna flat out say but it was a platonic gesture right???#so yeah i’m overthink getting flowers bc what’s the social code for that and what is one supposed to do when they get flowers from a friend#delivered to their joint workplace where everyone can see them and think they’re from a partner or something
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weedplantar · 1 year
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i'm all for lesbian rights and all, but we have to be honest with ourselves. the magnus archives would not work if the archivist was a lesbian. all the female avatars are just too damn sexy. the world would have ended immediately.
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octalien · 4 months
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no one ever talks about how Not being a dsmp fan was so fucking isolating during and after the first quarantine lockdowns dude
#heavenly melodies#before the major callouts and shit#that dude never sat right with me and my social life never recovered#i tried so hard to become friends with the juniors in my school pre graduation bc my school used to have a solid relationship between the#grade levels but they would never really talk to me and the only thing they were all interested was in the green motherfucker and co#so i literally just couldn't make conversation with them and thus got myself isolated out of a club i felt like i really belonged in#it makes me double sad thinking back onthis bc we held a valentines day celebration (my idea btw) that i couldnt celebrate with them bc i#had to go to the optometrist but i still made them little bags with candy and made them stickers myself (designed and cut them all out)#and none of them ever thanked me for it or told me how they missed me at the celebration or saved me any treats :(#i tried so hard and from what. to jump the favoritism scale down to hated with the teacher that was our sponsor that i thought i could#confide in? because i became the last one standing to finish our club projects and couldn't do it anymore bc of how isolated i felt and she#got mad at me for getting fed up with being so lonely that i had to quit because it all genuinely hurt so fucking much?#they wouldnt even say hi to me in the halls when we were phasing to hybrid learning dude#they walked right next to me in the stairwell once and i kept saying hi but they just looked the other way and wouldnt talk to me#we were literally shoulder to shoulder and they just ignored me. it was not good. like at all bc they werent wearing masks but it sucked
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evie-sturns · 5 months
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𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 - 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰
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summary: you've been pissing chris off all day, accidentally knocking his stuff over, purposely teasing him in public, to the point where he starts to get seriously mad at you to the point where he has to put you in your place.
warnings: smut, rough!chris, use of safe word, argument, swearing.
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I didn't know that what i was doing was affecting chris this much, I mean, today has just been like any other. I hung out with my boyfriend of 2 months, chris, the whole day with his brothers and friends.
he seem's to be extra on edge today, ever since i broke one of his cologne bottles.
(flashback)
hey chris, im just gonna head downstairs- SMASH
"oh fuck i'm so sorry i'll clean that up now-" i said, getting on my hands and knees and collecting the shards of black glass. "y/n just go downstairs, get out of my room please." chris spoke, glaring down at me. "i'm so sorry chris, i can buy you anothe-" i was cut off by him picking me up and placing me outside of his bedroom.
(present)
me, chris, nathan, nick and matt are sitting on the sturniolos couch as the sun sets through the window to our right, a dim light fills the living room as matt and nick have an argument, god knows what its about.
im cudding up to chris's side, my leg resting over his thigh as he scrolls on his phone aimlessly. ive been sitting here for about an hour, i think chris is still pissed about the cologne bottle incident. i hate to admit it, but chris when hes mad is the hottest version of him.
i move my leg from his thigh up to his lap, using my leg to rub him very softly through his sweatpants. he grabs my leg, pushing it off him "stop that." he whispers, shaking his head at me. "stop what?" i ask, a guilty smile tugging at the corners of my lips as i move my leg back to its original position, applying more pressure on his crotch.
right before he's about to grab my leg again nathan starts - "whos up for top golf!" he says, looking around the room with a smile on his face. "nate its late." matt speaks, leaning back against the couch.
"so you're boring?" nate tuts.
"fine, only if the others go though." nick says, standing up off the couch. "chris, y/n?" he says, looking at us.
im about to agree but chris answers for me "were staying here." he says, his tone angry.
i look at chris with a confused look, but hes back to scrolling on his phone. "well me, matt and nate are going, we'll be a few hours." nick says, grabbing his coat and phone.
matt and nathan follow nick out the door, giving me and chris a small wave before slamming the front door shut.
chris stands up, leaving me on the couch, he faces me "what the fuck is wrong with you!" he yells. "what?" i say defensively, moving back against the couch, my eyes widening from the sudden raise of his voice.
"what!!??" he mocks, before starting
"this whole day you've been on my last nerve, and I'm sick of it. You've ruined half the shit in my room then you start touching up on my dick in front of my brothers?"
my jaw is slack, in pure shock as he flames me, i can't help my attitude start to build up, i scoff "not my fault you've been sensitive and pissy all day, sorry that im clumsy today?" i bite back, rolling my eyes.
chris stares at me "you have no respect for any of my shit, youve gone and shattered my $450 cologne that nick got me and you expect me to be happy? pathetic." he yells.
a few tears drop from my eyes, i don't know why. his words aren't hurting me but he knows i can't deal with people yelling at me. my attitude keeps up though "if you're gonna be so sensitive go cry in your room christopher." i fold my arms.
chris storms out of the living room, slamming the door to the bathroom shut.
i wipe my eyes before standing up, running upstairs into chris's room. its already been decided that im staying the night here by nick, so i decide to get into my pyjamas.
i pull my shirt off over my head, revealing my white lacy bra which i especially wore for chris, i was expecting a different evening with us.
suddenly i hear the bedroom door open behind me, chris storms in before walking up to me, i swing my body around to look at him. he grabs me by my throat, i gasp loudly as he grabs me, throwing me down on the mattress.
i sink my teeth into my bottom lip as i look up at him, before pulling him down into an angry kiss. he pulls away, ripping off his shirt. "built up a bit of an attitude today haven't you?" he mumbles, yanking my shorts and panties off in one motion.
he reaches a hand under me onto my back, flipping me over onto my stomach.
he grabs my ankles, forcing me onto all fours. i whine, desperatly. "so needy aren't you." he says, yanking down his sweatpants. i look over my shoulder at him.
"hand behind your back." he demands, putting his hand out. i put my hands behind my back, chris grabs both of my wrists with one hand. holding them, forcing me to arch.
"chirs.." i groan, squirming slightly, his hand collides with my clit. "fuck!" i yelp, chris shushes me "why do you think you deserve my dick after giving me such an attitude today hm?"
he lines himself up with me, pulling my wrists closer to him, my chest and head are fully off the bed as my back arches more then i knew it ever could.
without warning her slams into me, i let out a loud cry from the sudden stretch. "dont. make. a noise." he says, slamming into me at a brutal pace. i let out pathetic whimpers as i'm held in place by him.
he reaches his spare hand round, shoving two fingers in my mouth.
chris has never been like this in bed, im in total shock as he fucks the attitude out of me.
without warning i clench around him, releasing the knot in my stomach. his thrusts don't slow, i wouldn't be wrong if i said they quickened.
im so sensitive, my vision blurry as he takes what he needs from me.
we've had a safe word established for a while, we made it while we were in a stupid mood, so it has a stupid name. 'dinosaur' , but ive never even thought about using it until now.
"chris.. chris chris." i groan, tears streaming down my face from the intensity. "fuck- d-dinosaur" i cry out, chris stops thrusting instantly, checking to see if he heard right.
"dinosaur.." i whisper.
chris pulls out instantly, he gently releases the painful grip on my wrists, as he collapses down next to me, sitting on the bed, pulling me onto his lap in a cradling me.
"hey hey.. don't cry sweetheart." he whispers into my hair, grabbing his shirt and pulling it onto me. "are you alright baby? too much?" he coos, rubbing my arms. "please speak to me gorgeous."
i nod into his chest, "im fine, just sensitive.." i stammer.
"oh okay i'm so sorry" he says, pure guilt in his voice as he stands up, holding me like a bride.
suddenly i let out a small laugh, he looks down, confusion painted across his face.
"wait.. whats funny?" he questions
"what were we thinking when we came up with that safeword." i laugh into his chest.
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this might be my last fic for a few days cause school is starting up tomorrow.
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neowinestainedress · 1 year
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HITS DIFFERENT | L.DH
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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!
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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.
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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. 
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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.” 
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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. 
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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. 
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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.  
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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.” 
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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. 
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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.
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 “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.” 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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.” 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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.”
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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. 
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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.
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“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. 
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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. 
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“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.” 
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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. 
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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. 
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“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.” 
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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.
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muniimyg · 6 months
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6.5: baby 》 series m.list
note: oh my gawd ,, my friends !!! i’m so sorry for the wait! i was in my finals szn & tryna figure things out w my courses for my next sem … meanwhile ,, this entire ch has been brewing and consuming my mind like crazy! hope u guys enj ,, pls pls pls lmk what u guys think !!! i’m so glad i can finally push this ch out so lets fcking tawk abt it 😫
warnings: making out, mini fingering moment, raw sex, grinding, thigh humping ? ass slapping, pussy eating, 69, doggy style, cum shots & filming / sex tape vibes……… dirty talk / name calling <3 lol !!!
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main
fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook
//
Jungkook was afraid of this. 
From the moment he first made you laugh—oh, he knew he was fucked. Something inside him twisted and turned until his mind found ease from your very touch. Then, suddenly and all at once, every fiber in his body surrendered. Though he didn’t do the best job, he still tried. He tried his best to resist you and the feelings his heart felt. As his heart found rest with yours—it was then he realized that it was no use.
He was addicted to you. 
It’s like he’s a child all over again, tasting his favourite chocolate bar for the first time. It’s like he’s a timid high schooler trying weed and getting so high, that he’s already making plans to do this again tomorrow. Or, it’s like he’s a man falling in love for the first time. 
For real. 
No bullshit, just the plain and boring truth. No, he wasn’t only addicted to you… Jungkook is falling in love with—
“Cute room.” You step into his room and shut the door behind you. The room is dim, only lit with his warm lamp light and a few candles placed around. It looked romantic and for some reason, it did not scare you. If anything, it entices you. 
He was so thoughtful. 
Before you can look around any further, you feel Jungkook’s body embrace yours. He wraps himself around you, holding you tight by your waist and digging his face into the crook of your neck. He kisses you behind your ear, causing you to giggle from the ticklish feeling. At this moment, you take in the scent of his freshly washed hair.
Is it odd to say this has to be one of your favourite scents? You’ve grown to like it. If anything, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed when you see him and his hair isn’t a little damp. Something about him being freshly showered makes your heart race. His damp hair is a symbol of his priorities… And that priority is you. Not to mention, wet hair has got to be the most romantic look any boy could have… You’ve always told yourself that as a child. Now, here you are: standing in a room with a damp-haired boy clinging to you. 
Nothing makes you happier than this. 
“I think Yuna saw me—mmfphh,” your words are interrupted by Jungkook’s lips. He greets you with a peck before continuing to kiss you like it’s his last dying wish. 
His hands find their way to your hair, cupping your jaw as you kiss him back. Your lips sync together as if it’s been a lifetime since you two last did this.
Only it wasn’t—it hasn’t been.
It feels like it though. 
“Miss me much?” you ask, breaking away from the intense kiss. He leans his forehead against yours, wasting no time and letting his hands travel inside your shirt. You feel his fingers trace over your bra, quickly finding the clasp and undoing it with his one hand.
Impressive, you must admit.
Should you be mad at that? 
Jungkook smirks, “fuck around and find out.”
A small laugh escapes your lips as you raise your arms. He lifts your shirt over your head, leaving your top exposed. Your bra is barely hanging on and Jungkook can’t keep his eyes off your breasts. 
“How about a hi first?”
“Hi ___,” he obliges. Then, he taps his fingers together, bringing them close to his lips. Like a menace, he grins. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?” 
Playfully, you roll your eyes at him and respond by taking the bra off yourself. You fling it at his face, just enough for it to land perfectly on top of his hair. One cup covers his face and he takes a breath in. 
“Smells like you.”
“Smells like my boob sweat, you pervert.”
He takes the bra off from his face and licks his lips at the sight of your bare chest. “I can keep it in my pants… You on the other hand… A few nights ago? Drunk? You were coming on to me. Hard.”
You huff. “I was drunk.”
“You also said you’d hold my hand… Without arguing with me.”
“What? That doesn’t count. I was drunk.” Your words come out fast. It almost sounds defensive and harsh. “Jungkook, I was drunk.”
“Oh, I know.” He shrugs, taking the high road. “No need to be so uptight about it. It’s okay to hold hands, you know? The same way it’s okay to be obsessed with me, baby… This is a safe space.” 
The audacity! More than that, you wince at the pet name. “Who the fuck is baby?”
Jungkook ignores your question and takes a step closer to you. As he does so, he takes his shirt off. He then tosses his shirt to the side of his room where his laundry hamper is. As you turn your attention back to him, your eyes fall on his pelvis area as he begins to undo his pants. Then, he pauses when he notices your gaze. 
“Do it for me.”
You raise a brow. 
“Pardon?”
“Take my pants off,” he points at the floor. “Get on your knees and take my pants off.”
For a split second, you hesitate. Earlier tonight, as you made your way over, you thought about what kind of mood he must’ve been in. You’ve seen Jungkook happy, irritated, tired, and even hangry… But horny in a needy and demanding way? Boarder-line desperate? Never. His doe eyes and goofy attitude can’t fool you… You’ve wondered about this. 
You’ve waited for this side of him. 
Perhaps it was your curiosity that answered for you because, without breaking eye contact, you fell to your knees. Jungkook’s gaze lowers as you bring your hands to his crotch. You palm him, feeling his cock and gulping at how hard it already was. Faintly, you hear him snicker at your submissiveness. 
He likes this. 
Slowly, you undo his pants and tug them down. In his Calvins, his raging boner greets you. Just as you slip your thumbs in between the fabric to pull them down, Jungkook grabs your wrists and pulls you to stand up. You follow his lead, confused. 
“I thought I was going to—”
Jungkook undoes your cargo pants buttons and tugs them down. He gives you no warning as he licks his thumb and slips his hand inside your panties. You feel his wet thumb rubbing your clit. Your breath hitches as he draws circles and then adds another finger into the mix. He deepens his rubbing, slowly but surely dragging his fingers around your folds. Jungkook then shifts his hand placement, quickly inserting a finger inside of you. The shock sends shivers down your spine and completely takes your focus. He adds another finger and it earns a lewd moan from you. 
“Ooh my god—”
Then, he stops. 
He takes his fingers out and examines the wetness. Your eyebrows furrow together, completely unsure of the pace he’s going at. How long would this last? Why couldn’t he just continue?
“Sorry, were you enjoying that?” Jungkook asks innocently.
It’s official: you hate him.
Dumbfounded, you shoot him a glare. “Maybe I was. Who knows? I wasn’t finished.”
Jungkook exchanges with laughter. “Finished? Five minutes in? Pookie, you give me way too much credit.”
You stick your tongue out at him, annoyed at how cocky he is. Truth be told, this suited him. The nasty comments and the edging… It feels like this should’ve happened before. It’s hard to explain but he just looks so comfortable with control. In a more unexplainable way—you can’t help but feel comfortable with it.
“Come on,” he nods towards the bed. “If you wanna finish, you should do it sitting on my face.”
His words make your tummy flip. Was he serious? The texts he sent prior to this.. You were so sure it was all talk. The most you expected was a quickie and a few nasty exchanges… But this? You don’t know what to think.
Jungkook lays on his bed first, gesturing you to follow. 
“Are you serious?”
With a flat tone, he answers: “Why would I joke about this?”
To be completely honest, he was a little offended you weren’t taking him seriously. Of course, he’s serious about eating you out. This was no joke to him.
Crossing your arms, you look at him in disbelief. “You want to do everything you texted me? Jungkook, there are people downstairs. Our friends are downstairs and—”
“I know,” he groans. “That’s why you need to shut the fuck up and sit on my face already. The longer we take, the more they will wonder where you are. Didn’t you say Yuna saw you come up here?”
“Y-yeah,” you recall. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”
He hits his bed with his fist like a child. “Why do you always deprive me?”
You gasp at his dramatic question. “Deprive you? It’s just my body, Jungkook. Do you crave pussy this bad?”
Tilting his head, he looks at you softly. “You,” he breathes. “I crave you.”
A silence falls between you two, followed by a heavy sigh. 
“Look, I’m never going to make you do things with me if you don’t want to. I’m only demanding tonight because I just—I really need you right now. If you want to go downstairs and find Yuna, go ahead. We can do this another time… I just thought you missed me just as much as I missed you.”
“Gaslighter.”
He chuckles, attempting to hide the smile on his face as you get on the bed. Moving closer to him, he watches your hands roam from his abdomen to his jaw. Placing chante kisses on him, he stutters his words. “I’m s-serious. It’s fine. It’s just pussy.”
“But it’s my pussy.”
“True,” Jungkook agrees, leaning back and watching you place yourself on his thigh. “So fucking true, pookie.”
You lean in to kiss him. His lips chase yours when you pull away, only to grind your hips. He feels your wet pussy on his thigh and he feels like he could choke on air. It’s torture watching you throw your head back at the sensation. You can’t help but embrace the feeling of relief.
“You’re not finishing on my thigh,” he mutters, placing his hands on your waist. He lifts you just enough for you to get off. Laughing, he squiggles down the bed so you have more space. Before you know it, you’re making yourself comfortable on his face. As you straddle yourself on, you make a confession.
“W-wait, I’m scared! I don’t want to suffocate you—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Jungkook snaps, unable to watch his tone. “This is literally all I’ve ever wanted so you need to shut the fuck up and let me have this.”
“Okay, okay,” you snicker lightly, as you sink into his face. “But seriously! I don’t want to crush—“
You don’t even finish your sentence. You’re cut off by the feeling of Jungkook’s hot breath against your pussy. Then, you feel his nose against your clit and the texture of his tongue brush against your folds. The feeling shocks you, causing you to lift yourself out of reflex. Just as quickly, Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you to stay. 
“J-Jungkook, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. You can and you will, got it?” he hisses. “Hold the fucking headboard if you need to. You aren’t going anywhere until your cum is on my tongue.”
You do as he says.
You lean forward, grabbing a hold of his headboard for support. 
Just as those thoughts immerse your mind, you feel him dragging his tongue across your folds. It begins slow and soft. It feels like kitten licks and if the word cute was a feeling… This was it. Then, he flicks his tongue and it’s everything but cute from here on out. You want to jolt, but you keep what Jungkook said to you in mind. Besides, there is no place in the world you would rather be at than here. Jungkook eats you out like he’s a starved man. He doesn’t miss an inch of your pussy and tightens his grip around your thighs each time your body twitches. 
Biting your bottom lip, you hold in your moan. 
He feels so good. His tongue against your wet pussy feels so fucking good—it’s almost comical how you were so hesitant to do this. Soon enough, you let go of the headboard and search for his hands. Like second nature, you and Jungkook intertwine your fingers together and finally, you close your eyes and give in. 
You can have this.
You can have him.
“Y-you feel so good,” you confess shyly. “You make me feel so good.”
Jungkook smiles against your pussy as you begin to roll your hips against his face. He knew it would take some time, but you’d eventually come around. No pun intended. 
“C-close,” you utter in between heavy exhales. “Jungkook—I’m close! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
You hold his hand tighter and push your weight on him harder. You feel him quicken the pace as he licks you and—holy shit.
Are those stars?
You cum.
Messy, wet, and hard. 
Jungkook moans against your pussy, taking a moment to bite your inner thigh. Your legs practically shake, causing you to completely rest your weight on his face. After a few moments, you gather whatever energy you have left and shift your position. You turn your body around and line yourself with his cock. Jungkook stretches his neck out to figure out what you’re doing. Before he can comment, your lips are already placing kisses on his dick. Your fingers dig into his Calvins and pull them off. 
“W-what are you doing?” He asks, voice shaking from anticipation. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what you were doing—he just couldn’t believe it. He’s so fucking lucky. 
“34 plus 35! Do the math,” you tease. “Keep it up, okay?”
Jungkook laughs, pinching your ass in response. “Keep up with me then.”
“Is that a challenge?”
He rubs the spot he pinched your ass and shakes his head. “I already have one point… Doubt you’re gonna catch up.”
“You could nut twice,” you suggest. Then you turn your head and shake your ass in his face. “For me? So we’re even.”
Jungkook bites his lips. “Then it wouldn’t be a completion.”
“I hate losing.”
“So do I.” Jungkook then wastes no time. He digs himself in you again, flicking his tongue at all the right times and places. 
You groan, hating how much you love this. You try to focus. After pumping him a few times, you stuff his cock in your mouth. Moaning from how thick he is, you suck him off. Your cheeks begin to feel a little sore after a few minutes, but by then his dick is up. He’s as hard as can be and you can even feel his veins come out more and more. Every time you pull his cock out, you make sure to be as loud as you can. The pop sound makes Jungkook’s blood rush to his dick and the way you suck him so sloppy and hard only reminds him of the time you did this in his car. That night, Jungkook had never felt more attracted to you. 
Your jealousy had consumed his every thought for days after. 
Just like that, Jungkook’s stomach twitches. He feels a rush and it goes straight from his dick and out.
Like a loser, Jungkook cums and whimpers loudly. 
“F-fuck yes. Holy shit, ___.. Just like that… Mhmm,” his breath hitches. “Fuck!”
Lips pressed against his dick, you let his cum spill on your face. Mostly, it hits your nose bridge and your upper lip. You shift off of Jungkook and kneel in front of him. He gulps, watching you with longing eyes. You stick your tongue out, bring your fingers to where his cum landed and taste it. You lick your lips and swallow with a cute moan. 
“Yummy.”
He hisses, and immediately takes you by the waist. You giggle, unable to stop it from becoming a laugh. “Did that turn you on, pookie?”
Jungkook glares at you, swiping a bit of his cum with his thumb. Without warning, he then shoves his thumb into your mouth. As you suck, he cups the rest of his hand around your jaw and ravishes at your beauty. 
A layer of sweat makes you shine, and the strands of your hair on your forehead never made you look so beautiful to him before. Your lips are perfect—puffy and tainted with his cum. Your eyes—god, your eyes… They’re smiling at him and he swears he has never felt his heart flutter like this ever. 
As you sit on top of his dick, you roll your hips against it. When you do this, both of you watch it happen. You lean back, planting your hands on each side of his legs. Jungkook watches as your folds drag and split open against his cock. You can’t help but let out hitched breathes as you take in the feeling of his member. How his veins feel against you. How his soft skin feels as you soak it with your wetness.. All of it. 
All of him. 
“You like that, hmm? You like grinding on my cock with your pussy all wet?” He pries, turning up his dirty talk. “Come on, baby… You know how I like it, right? Why don’t you be a good girl and put it in? Sink into it like the little cockslut you are… For me?”
You moan, hissing his name. “Jungkook, shut the fuck up. Just enjoy this.”
As punishment, you rub yourself on him harder. Each roll of your hips has more pressure and his dick feels like it’s going to explore. He watches, hating you more and more as his head turns red. You hump his cock, moaning at the sensation.
“Holy shit,” Jungkook whines. “I’m not gonna last even if you ride me.”
“Loser.”
He chuckles, too lazy to put up a fight. “Let’s go doggy, please.”
You think about it. “Beg for it.”
“Very funny.” Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He tosses you over and gets on his knees. You arch your back and get taken aback when Jungkook swiftly places a pillow under your stomach. You turn back to give him a confused look. 
“You might cramp.” 
Huffing, you bite back. “I won’t cramp. You’re gonna nut before I cramp.”
He rolls his eyes at you and tells you to shut up. You bite your bottom lip, even more excited and eager to feel him. Doggy style isn’t your favourite… But for some reason, it feels hot. Doing this with Jungkook makes your mind spin and you aren’t sure if your playful remarks are masking how nervous you are. Underneath your teasing, you have no idea how you’re doing or saying any of these things. How are you even doing this with him right now? It’s fucking wild. 
“Gonna put it in now,” Jungkook’s voice sounds a little parched at this point. “If you cream my dick, can I film it?”
His question catches you by surprise.
“Your face wouldn’t be in it… And y-you don’t even have to say yes. I just… I miss you sometimes and I think about fucking you a lot so a video would be—”
“I trust you,” you say, flipping to face him. “Honestly? I’ll film a bit of it. Bet it’ll get you off in the future.” Then, you reach over his nightstand and swipe on his phone to the camera icon. You hold it and press record. Jungkook smirks and you zoom into his face. 
“Cute,” you laugh. 
Again, Jungkook rolls his eyes but loves every moment of this. You go back on all fours and hold the camera out. It captures half of your face, a bit of your boobs, and your ass. Jungkook places himself at your rear. You watch from the screen as Jungkook spits on his dick before he pushes himself inside you. He thrusts a few times before you let out a moan. 
You bite your lip for the camera and let a giggle escape in between Jungkook’s thrusts. His breathing gets heavy as he picks up the pace and fucks you harder. 
“J-Jungkook,” you whimper. 
“Louder,” he commands as he fucks you. You close your eyes, taking in how good he feels inside you. He’s throbbing. He’s so fucking big.
“Oh my god, Jungkook! Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder! Please, please, please!”
“Say my name,” Jungkook growls. “Say it louder.” 
“Fuck me,” you ignore his request. “You’re so big. I’m so fucking lucky. I love it. I love your cock so much!”
He slaps your ass. 
“Say my fucking name.” Jungkook pushes himself deeper into you, taking his time doing so. You hate how slow it feels now. “Whose making you feel this way? You’re so wet taking my cock in. Don’t be a bad girl… Are you a bad girl?”
“N-no,” you cry, feeling each thrust intensify.
“What are you then? My little slut? My fucking cock hungry slut? You won’t even say my name… You’re just a dirty bad girl. Fucking disrespectful at this point.”
“No, I’m not!” you feel tears begin to jerk in. “I love your cock too much to disrespect it—I,” you catch your breath, “I’m not a dirty bad girl!”
“What are you then? Because if you were a good girl, you’d say my fucking name… Say it. Be a good girl and say whose fucking cock you’re going to cream.”
“J-Jungkook!”
“Louder.” He pauses, leaving his cock to twitch inside you. 
“Please… Fuck me so good I cream your cock…”
“No. My name. Say my fucking name—”
“Oh my god, Jungkook!”
He smirks.  
Jungkook loves this so much. It does more than feed his ego—it ignites it.
He loves the way you say his name. He loves the way you call for him and how soft your tone gets when the sentence gets to his name. He absolutely fucking loves it.
“Yes, yes, yes!” you sob as he continues to fuck you. He fucks you rough, sloppy, and messy. You feel his dick slip in and out so easily that the friction is pure pleasure. 
“Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook,” you chant. “I’m not a good girl—I’m just…”
“You’re what?”
“I’m your girl,” you exhale. “R-right?”
Jungkook loses it. 
He fucking loses his mind.
Hastly, he leans over and grabs your tits. He fucks himself into you more and more, while biting your ear and kissing your neck. You moan and whimper, watching how hot it all looks on camera. Jungkook then rides his orgasm, not leaving you behind. He takes his phone from your hands and begins to film himself fucking you. The camera captures his dick going in and out of your pussy. How your ass bounces each time it hits his pelvis. It captures his breathy moans and his hushed, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” 
“J-Jungkook—I’m gonna cum! Oh my god, oh my god.”
And you do.
You cream his dick. As he pulls in and out of you, the camera catches your creamy release on his dick. 
It doesn’t take much after that. He isn’t sure if it’s just the heat of the moment or the fact that your brain is all fucked out by now—it doesn’t matter. The words that escaped your lips were enough. Jungkook cums hard and loud. He groans, hissing as he spills himself. You gasp when you feel his cock pull out of you harshly. Jungkook slips his one hand under you and flips you on your back. As you lay there, you watch as he pumps himself. He then aims his squirts of cum at your tits, and films as they land over your nipples. His breath is shakey from the relief and tiresome act and yours is the same. Except, you can’t help but let out a lewd giggle. 
Holy fuck, this was such a workout.
Like earlier, you take your finger and swipe some of his cum off your breast. Bringing it to your lips, you lick it and smile sweetly at him. He chuckles as he films it and you laugh. Really, you laugh for real. Then he laughs and offers you high-5. 
You laugh even harder, especially as you recall this being your reward. Even though it’s childish, you accept his gesture and feel special. Slamming your hand onto his, you lock them together and tug him towards you. He ends the recording just before he collapses on you. 
After all that, finally, you two share a kiss. 
A deep, soft, and much-needed kiss. 
The addiction to you was no different than an adrenaline junkie getting ready to jump off a cliff. No, there was no turning back. 
Your lips were addictive. The sweetness of everything your body would give him—it was like a fucking reward. Every saliva exchange, every drip from your pussy, to every tear shed while he digs himself deeper and deeper into you… He wants them all. 
As sick as it sounds, he’d lick it all up just to have you in him even more. Just to be close to you. Just to be closer. 
Every inch of you, he wants to devour. 
Like a starved man, he’d fall to his knees and beg for an ounce of kindness. A chance to satisfy you—a simple kiss, deepened by the second. Hands intertwined as you spread your legs for him as he places himself in between. 
As he leans his forehead against yours, he sneaks in a few pecks. “I can’t believe we have a sex tape.”
You roll your eyes. “Perv.” 
“You consented,” he sings happily. “Do you want me to delete it?”
You shake your head as he makes himself comfortable. “No… Send it to me later though. I miss you sometimes too.” 
A hearty chuckle escapes his lips as he snuggles into your embrace. You wrap your arms around him. Jungkook digs his face into his favourite spot—aside from your pussy—the cook of your neck. 
Sometimes. 
You miss him sometimes?
That’s a funny way of saying always. 
The muffled sound of music blasting downstairs and people chatting becomes evident. Yet, you two stay silent. Laying together, fingers and legs intertwined. Naked. 
When was it ever this easy? Why did this feel so right? Being with Jungkook has never been difficult—but when was it like this? When did things change? The sudden realization of the words you said while you two were intimate hit you. Were you really his girl? Did you want to be? Would he accept you if you asked?
Not only that but—when did you… When has it…
When did this begin?
These feelings.
There’s a tightness in your chest you can’t explain. Something that has been around for a while now. Long enough that you don’t remember when it first occurred and began to glow whenever he was around. What the fuck is up with that? 
As he fucked you tonight, that’s all you felt. Your heart was glowing. The closeness with him—regardless of how nasty—it was so special. It felt so good and like nothing you’ve ever felt. As you trace random things on his back with your nails, you hear him murmur, “mhmm… Yup. I love it when you do this, ___.”
It startles you.
When did you begin doing this? Being so intimate with him? Scratching his back, drawing hearts with your fingernails… When did this all happen? He says it like this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. Then, it gets hot. Suddenly, you notice how sweaty you two are and how it’s way too comfortable in his bed with him. You sit yourself up, causing him to follow. 
“I’m glad you came.”
“Pun intended?”
Jungkook pinches your cheeks and presses a kiss on your nose. “Whatever you want.”
You shove him away and get up from his bed. At least, you attempt to. 
Your legs feel shaky. He quickly holds you by the waist and catches your stumble. Looking up at him, you huff. “Look at what you did!”
“What?” he panics. 
“Jungkook, I can’t fucking walk!” You begin to freak out. “How am I supposed to go downstairs and act normal? Yuna is gonna ask so many questions and—”
“Relax,” Jungkook sets you down on his bed. “I got you.”
You sit and pout as he heads to his bathroom. When he returns, he has a black shirt and pants on. He holds a damp towel and collects your clothes off the floor. Jungkook kneels in front of you and begins to pat wipe your sweaty skin. First, your forehead, neck, and then he uses a face towel to wipe his cum off your breast. Then, he continues to pat dry your arms and in between your legs. 
Without exchanging words, he helps dress you. The entire time, he was careful and used a soft tone whenever he did speak. For the most part, he just looked at you lovingly. That look in his eyes… You know in your heart you will never forget. 
When you’re all dressed, a good enough time has passed for you to recover. Not fully, but just enough. Jungkook helps you get up and you hiss at the initial soreness. 
“Round two?” 
You hit his chest and roll your eyes. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”
“Insanely hot?”
“Whatever you want.”
He isn’t sure what to do. 
You laugh it off, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know how. As you two look into each other's eyes, he feels his heart race. 
He should just say it, right? It’s easy. 
Spit it out.
___, do you want to go out with me?
Or should he do a whole confession?
___, we’ve been doing this for a while now… And I think I’ve grown an unhealthy attachment to you. I miss you when I’m not with you. When I’m with you, I never want the moment to end. Being close to you has to be my favourite part of living. 
But when he opens his mouth to speak—
“Should we go downstairs? I need water.” 
He blinks. 
“Y-yeah,” Jungkook reaches for the door. Then, as he turns the door knob, he stops himself. “One more kiss, please.”
Without a fight, you tiptoe and kiss him. Smiling into the kiss, he leans more into it and gropes your ass. You hit his chest playfully, signaling him to pull away. With great sadness, he does so. 
“I’ll go out first.”
Your words cut him deeper than a knife. 
Right.
You two aren’t dating.
You two are just fucking—in secret, at that. 
“Why can’t we leave together?” he asks, sounding a little desperate. “You said it yourself. You don’t really care if people know or not… I doubt anyone will even care.”
Shrugging, you nod. “Sure,” you answer him. “I’m not trying to hide us or anything… I just don’t really want to be questioned… But, considering I can’t really walk right now…”
He laughs, feeling like he saved himself from sadness. 
“Can we hold hands?”
You give him a face. “Don’t push it.”
“But you said—”
“I was drunk!”
Jungkook laughs, as he opens the door. Stepping out together, he locks his bedroom door as you continue bantering. Pushing past everyone in the hall, he can’t help but feel a sense of relief. 
It was a small thing. Leaving the room together and even suggesting to hold hands—it was a long shot but here he was.
With you.
Lingering fingertips and all. 
As you two head down the stairs, you’re immediately greeted by the smell of alcohol and sweaty bodies. Jungkook leans into your ear and whispers, “ahh… See? We’re blending right in.” 
He’s talking about smelling like sweaty sex. 
You bring your hands to your face, covering yourself and the shyness that rushes to your cheeks. He laughs and you hit his chest for the nth time tonight. 
“Why are you covering your face? It’s like I didn’t just see you naked. Like I didn’t fuck you—”
“Oh my god!” you cover his mouth and look around to see if anyone heard what he said so bluntly. “I know I said I don’t care if people knew but can you relax? Don’t be so proud you fucked me.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Jungkook says sincerely. “Do you have any idea how admired you are?”
“So I’m a prize?” you laugh. “What a joke.”
Jungkook gawks at you. 
“Do you have any idea how hard I’d try to win you if this was the fucking hunger games? I’d die for you.”
You snort. “Did you even read the series—”
“No,” he snickers. “But you get what I mean, right?”
“Not really…” you trail, turning your head in an attempt to avoid eye contact. You aren’t too sure where this conversation was heading and perhaps you aren’t ready for whatever he has to say next. “Can we—”
“I won’t get all gushy and all because you’re going to get all self-conscious and then retort by saying I have post-sex feelings—but just know you’re it. The standard. A prize. Endgame.. All of it. You’re it.”
Too stunned to speak, your lips curve into a small smile. “Jungkook—”
“___!”
You and Jungkook turn your heads and see Yuna approaching with Taehyung. She smiles brightly, practically throwing herself at you. You catch her, hug her, and tilt your head in confusion as Taehyung whispers something in Jungkook’s ear. 
Jungkook lowers his gaze at you, gulping as Taehyung finishes his exchange and steps away. Then, Taehyung offers you a short lived smile. 
“Hey, ___. How are you?” Taehyung’s voice is calm and sweet… It’s so opposite from how suspicious he’s acting.
“Good…” you say with your eyebrow raised. “What’s going on?”
Yuna tugs on your arm. “Nothing!” She sneers at Taehyung and gives him a warning look. “Way to be discrete.”
“You said to follow your lead! You aren’t doing much so I—”
“You’re the worst partner in crime ever!” Yuna scolds him.
You shake your head at the two, feeling at home with their bickering. Taehyung and Yuna act like such a married couple most of the time they’re together—you were used to it at this point. In between their bickering, you glance at Jungkook who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. 
For some reason, you can’t make out what the look on his face is. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look sad either. He wasn’t angry… He looked… Eager? Worried? In agony?
“You okay?” you ask, moving away from Yuna and to Jungkook’s side. He slides his arms around your waist. You let him. 
Pulling you close, his lips shape into a pout. You cup his cheeks and squish them together. “Jungkook?”
“Wanna go back upstairs?” he suggests, resting his face on the palm of your hands. “Wanna get out of here? I’m suddenly not in the mood.”
“To what? Party?”
“To be anywhere without you.”
“But I’m here.” You reason.
He shakes his head, insisting something else. “But not you’re here with me… You know?”
You do know. 
“S-sure,” you agree even though a part of you feels hesitant. Not that you don’t want too.. More like you’re nervous and afraid of what it’ll lead to. More feelings? More sex? You don’t think you can go another round. “Where should we—”
“___ baby!” 
Your head turns to your name being called by a familiar voice. 
From the corner of your eyes, you see Taehyung and Yuna exchange disappointed looks. Just as you’re about to ask what’s going on, Seokjin and Eunwoo approach you. 
“Eunwoo,” you greet warmly. You step away from Jungkook and hug him. 
“You haven’t been answering my texts… Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” he whines like a child. You laugh lightly and tiptoe to ruffle his hair. Though it’s only been a few months, he hasn’t changed. He still acts like a lost puppy. “Jungkook, what’s up?”
Jungkook dabs Eunwoo up with low effort. You give him a confused look, wondering why he was acting all sulky all of the sudden. From what you recall, these two are friends. As Eunwoo greets Yuna and Taehyung, Seokjin greets you rather drunkenly. Then, he excuses himself to piss. Everyone rolls their eyes at his behaviour but let him do what he needs to.
“Can we talk?” Eunwoo asks bluntly. His question breaks the ice, but wins a wide-eyes from you all.
You tilt your head. “What about?”
“Us.”
Instantly, Jungkook feels like he’s being punched in the face. No, he wishes he was being punched in the face. Being punched in the face would be more enjoyable than standing here in between you and Eunwoo.
He has only tried a handful of times to ask and understand what happened between you and Eunwoo, but he never pressed it. Right now, he wishes he had. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t feel so threatened right now. But he didn’t and he does. Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying his best to mask his feelings. 
Was there still something between you and Eunwoo? Were you still texting him? Is Eunwoo who you’re with when you’re not with him?
All these thoughts and self-doubt flood Jungkook’s mind. 
It sinks and his insecurities make a home as you nod politely and follow Eunwoo away from the crowd. Away from him.
Not even a goodbye?
As you slip away, Jungkook sighs. How did you do that? He feels disappointed and hurt—offended even. How dare you pick someone else over him? Though no feelings between you two were expressed or exchanged in a way where commitment and exclusivity would be the trade-off—still, this wasn’t fair.
How could you walk away? Like it was easy? Like you weren’t just with him seconds ago?
It aches.
It hurts so bad that it even his anger is weak. 
No matter how much he wants to—he can’t blame you. 
He never asked you out.
“I like the way you look at her,” Yuna comforts Jungkook by patting his back. 
“Huh?” Jungkook snaps out of his thoughts. “What do you mean? Look at who?”
Yuna nudges him and gives him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me,’ look. Then, she explains herself. “I always knew you were nice. Taehyung talks about the shit you put up with and the things you do to please people… Like how you joined the team again after they begged you to even though you felt burnt out… How you always limit your drinking so you’re sober enough to walk ___ home. How you come over and take care of her when she’s piss drunk and probably gave you a hard time—”
Jungkook’s eyes get shifty. “How do you know about that—”
“Doesn’t matter. She didn’t tell me shit, though. She doesn’t know I know and we’re going to keep it that way.” Yuna pokes Jungkook’s chest. 
He furrows his brows. “Why does everything have to be a secret when it comes to ___?”
Yuna doesn’t have an answer for him. Instead, she continues her little speech.
“You’re a nice guy… But to ___, you’re kind. It’s in your gaze. It’s in the way you always offer yourself to her. It’s in the way you’re her friend above all else—I’m so thankful you’re who you are when you’re with her. You look at her like she’s your entire world… I don’t know if you even know that—but that’s how you look at her. You look at her and it’s… It’s like she’s the only person in the world.”
Jungkook hates the words Yuna speaks. Partly because they’re all true and partly because he doesn’t know what to do after. Yuna squeezes his shoulders and he feels like he could cry. 
“Can you tell her I’ll be in my room? Waiting for her?” Jungkook pleas.
Yuna nods and excuses herself to find you in the crowd. You’re throwing your head back, laughing at whatever Eunwoo whispered in your ear. When Yuna approaches you and passes the message, you find Jungkook’s eyes from across the room. 
You smile at him and wave. 
He stands still, not knowing what to do. Before you know it, you watch him pick up his feet and head back upstairs. He doesn’t look back.
Yuna did tell you he’d be in his room… So that’s probably where he’s headed. In your mind, you make a mental note to go upstairs and figure things out with Jungkook in ten minutes. 
You’ll give Eunwoo ten more minutes... The rest of the night can be for Jungkook. 
Upstairs, Jungkook sits on the edge of his messy bed. Knees to his chest, he thinks about how fucked up everything got in a matter of moments. Did it really just take one conversation with your ex to lose you as quickly as he got you? Is this the reality of being a fuckbuddy?
He hates it. 
Jungkook clenches his fits, recalling the words Taehyung said to him. 
“Eunwoo’s tryna get back together with ___… I don’t know why it’s so important to Yuna but she said she tried to talk him out of it. Yuna said to get ___ out of here? Again, I don’t know why… I thought Eunwoo was Yuna’s favourite for ___ but I’m guessing not anymore…”
It was comforting to know that Yuna was on Jungkook’s side… But did it matter if you weren’t? You’re downstairs, talking and probably making plans to get back together with your ex.
Meanwhile, Jungkook sits in his room and waits until his eyes betray him. They flutter shut, falling asleep to the faint sound of your laugh downstairs and to the hope of you fulfilling a promise you never made.
In the morning, Jungkook wakes up and cries. He cries out of frustration and hurt. His heart feels heavy, like it could collapse and be broken. He has never felt so betrayed before.
And it’s pathetic because even then—especially then—he still waits for you.
2K notes · View notes
mattsrod · 6 months
Text
- ; MATTHEW STURNIOLO ; - ' MORNINGS '
✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪
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- ; warnings - smut, sub!matt, a little plot, masturbation, boners, interrupted sex.
- ; 9:05 am
your eyes were still glued shut with sleep as you rolled over in bed, throwing your arm to the right which hit your boyfriend in the stomach, of course.
matt shot awake, clutching his stomach instantaneously. after a few seconds of sputtering out swear words under his breath the said, "new way to wake me up, huh?"
you groaned in response, much too tired to give him a proper answer. the only thing on your mind was going back to sleep, but your boyfriend poking you in your side made that pretty difficult .
"matt, stop." you said curtly, grabbing his hand.
"your the one who woke me up, shouldnt i be mad?" he turned you over so you were facing him, taking a moment to look at all of your features.
"matt i can feel you staring at me." you spoke before opening your eyes. he was already staring into them. fuck. you wanted to be mad at him for not letting you sleep, but you couldn't.
he laughed before sliding his hand under your head, separating you and your soft pillow . you leaned closer to him and he kissed your lips softly.
he pulled away for a moment and you smiled. "come here." you said grabbing his face and brining it to yours, smashing your lips together.
you bit his upper lip and he licked your lower, and soon after his tongue pried your lips apart. he sat you up against the headboard, not separating his lips from yours for a second. he unclasped your bra, taking a tit in his hand.
every second that passed just made the kiss more heated.
your hands slid up and down his body as his tongue explored your mouth. just as your hands made it to his waistband you received a call, to which you ignored.
and then another call came.
and finally a text.
he pulled away, recognizing whoever was trying to reach you probably really needed you, considering the amount of times they had called you.
matt got off of you, letting you recollect and grab your phone.
"fuck." you mumbled
"what?"
"its my best friend. her dog ran away. she wants me to come over and grieve with her. probaly eat ice cream for three hours? i dont know.." you rambled on, shocked at the messages you had just received
"oh shit. you gotta get going then?" he yawned. handing you a previously discarded bra from the night before.
"i guess so." you slipped the bra over your head. "want breakfast before i leave?" you asked him, grabbing a pair of his pajama pants off of the floor and swiftly putting them on.
"i mean, why not?" he got out of the bed slowly ruffling his hair and then standing up.
you walked over to him, giving him a peck on the lips before walking out of the room "meet you downstairs yeah?"
"yeah." he paused, "your not putting a shirt on?" he said loudly, knowing you were far down the hallway by now.
"i mean its just us at home, right?!" you called back.
hearing that he smiled to himself. rushing out of the room and following you down the steps.
- ; time skip - 9:32 am
"matt, im gonna burn the fuckin' eggs if you keep staring at me like that." you shuffled the eggs around in the pan once more before turning around to look at matt, leaning your hands into the counter.
"what am i distracting you?"
"just let me cook your eggs in peace." you smiled.
saying that you turned around, you knew matt wouldn't let you do that.
you felt matts gaze burning into you as you walked over to the fridge to grab orange juice which you set on the counter next to you.
why not take advantage of this?
you opened the freezer and bent down to grab the mini pancakes you knew matt loved.
you arched your back as you stood up and turned around. "you want some of these, babe?" you held up the box of pancakes, waving them in the air.
your boyfriend traced your curves with his eyes. how his pants hung low on your hips, how your bra held your perfect tits.he was getting harder by the second. who gave you permission to do these things to him?
and then, looked up from the floor where he was pretending to stare, blinking and shaking his head before speaking "oh shit- sorry babe what'd ya say?"
"hm." you crossed your arms and leaned against the counter once again, sighing this time. "what am I distracting you now?"
"i gotta use the bathroom, be right back." he said coldly.
you pursed your lips and then shook your head. "you want the pancakes or not?!"
"yeah!" his voice cracked as he ran to the bathroom.
you giggled and turned off the stove. you knew exactly what he was up to.
matt bee-lined for the bed and threw himself on it, tossing most of the pillows to the floor and stuffing the remaining behind his back, before yanking his sweatpants down to his knees. there was no need to drag this out. he had enough foreplay just watching you downstairs, and not to mention the interrupted scene that morning that had been playing through his head for the rest of the time after that.
he grasped his cock firmly from the spot on his stomach where it had lay hard and wet-tipped against his stomach.
he gasped at the contact and let his head fall back, his mouth falling open as he squeezed himself, before letting his cock fall with a slap against heated skin.
with a flat hand, he pulled the moisture from the tip, smearing it down his length, before curling his fingers over his balls, just grazing his fingertips below them.matt ran his tongue over his dry lips, picturing you in the kitchen, remembering how you'd looked with your pajama pants hanging so low that just the slightest tug would pull them off.
he groaned and brought his hand around his dick again, tugging jerkily, frantically, and bent his knees, planting his feet on the bed.He could see you between his legs, one hand on his thigh, the other pleasuring yourself right along with him.
matt screwed his eyes closed and clamped his other hand over his own thigh, breathing hard and fast and stroking even faster.He imagined fucking you over the counter. both of you whimpering as he thrusted roughly into you, one hand gripping your hips roughly, leaving small marks. his other roped around to the front of your body, rubbing your clit.
the muscles in matts’s arms began to burn as he stroked himself but that barely registered, the only thing he could think of, the only thing he could see, was you beneath him.
him plunging into you and hearing your pretty noises.
your face as it twisted with pleasure.
He stroked himself long and hard, inside and out, his breath ragged and heavy and he knew it wouldn’t be long before his releass. he moaned loudy, picturing you against the counter once again. This sent him right over the edge.
with a loud cry of your name, his knees hit his shoulders as his belly strained and his hips thrust up onto his plunging fingers, his body pulsing around them, and quick lines of milky liquid squirted over his hand and the quivering skin of his stomach.
you opened the bedroom door and matts head snapped at the creaking sound it had made.
"huh. well this isnt the bathroom." you teased, making your way towards the bed.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
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imfinereallyy · 2 months
Text
I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2
pt. 1 pt. 3
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.
He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.
Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.
Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.
Little shit.
Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.
Looking at you, Lucas.
Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.
Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.
Until he did, with Eddie.
Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.
Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.
Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.
"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"
"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.
Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.
She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.
Fuck, he loved her.
"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.
Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.
"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.
"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.
Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.
"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."
It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.
Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.
Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"
Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"
Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."
Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."
Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.
Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."
Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."
Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"
"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."
"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.
Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.
"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."
Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.
Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.
Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.
Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.
"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.
"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."
Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"
"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.
Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."
Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."
The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."
Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."
Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"
It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."
"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.
Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.
Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso
(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)
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harunayuuka2060 · 4 months
Text
Neige: MC! *sniffles* You got hurt!
MC: I am alright, Neige... Though what are you doing here?
Vil: He insisted on coming with me when he heard about the news.
MC: ...
MC: *glances at Rook*
Rook: *smiles at them*
MC: ...
MC: *turns their attention back to Vil and Neige* Thank you both for your concern, but it was only a minor injury.
Vil: Your bandage on your arm says otherwise. *looking stern now*
MC: It's fine now since it's been treated.
Neige: MC, you should always be careful!
MC: I will. Thanks for reminding me, Neige.
Vil: ...
Vil: I checked the CCTV. You fought with the burglar.
MC: ...
MC: Yes.
Vil: Why didn't you wake me up?
MC: I didn't want to disturb your rest. Besides, I handled it just fine.
Vil: ...
Vil: You still got yourself injured. If it was Rook, he would—
MC: Yes. He's much capable to serve you. He was your vice housewarden when you were still studying in Night Raven College, right?
Vil: ...Yes.
MC: And I guess he has always been exceptional.
MC: He's the best for you, Vil. I'm sure he wouldn't mind working for you.
Vil: ...
MC's co-worker: Is your friend alright? I saw him walked out and dragged Neige LeBlanche with him.
MC: They had a schedule to follow.
Their co-worker: Ya veo. But Vil Schoenheit looked like he was fuming mad.
MC: ...
MC: That sounds like an exaggeration.
Their co-worker: Oh, yeah. Of course. What I mean is his aura, okay? It's burning.
MC: *shakes their head* Let's just get back to work.
Their co-worker: Oh wait! Rook. Rook just quit. I didn't know why, but he said that his job here is done.
MC: ...
MC: Vil must've hired him.
Their co-worker: That fast? Quite a privilege, no?
MC: *chuckles* *proceeds to continue with their task*
Rook: Roi du Poison, there must be a reason why Ami masqué refused your offer.
Vil: They've found out that we are affiliated to each other, Rook.
Rook: Oh! How could that be possible? I was certain I didn't raise any suspicion!
Vil: That doesn't matter now. My plan didn't work.
Rook: You shouldn't lose hope, Roi du Poison. I know deep inside that Ami masqué cherishes you. Maybe they just need more time to realize that.
Vil: ...
Vil: Rook, were you not listening to me when I told you about our story?
Rook: Non. I had listened intently. And my point still stands.
Vil: ...
Customer A: You lack energy today, MC. Did something happen?
MC: Huh? What do you mean?
Customer B: It feels like you're sulking about something. Or we could be wrong.
MC: ...
MC: You two seem to have been drinking a lot.
The customers: We're sober!
MC: It doesn't look like it to me.
The customers: Manager! Your concierge is judging us!
The manager: *chuckles and waves her hand dismissively*
The bartender: I think MC is sulking because Vil Schoenheit isn't here today.
The customers: Oh!
MC: No. That's not the reason at all. *carries the drunk woman*
The drunk woman: We're going home?
MC: Yes, miss. Is there someone waiting for you to be home?
The drunk woman: No...
MC: I see. We'll get going.
The bartender: Don't sulk! *as MC walks out of the nightclub with the customer*
The drunk woman: Looks like they're teasing you...
MC: Please don't mind them.
Vil: *staring at MC's phone number*
Vil: *decides to call them; not really hoping that MC would answer*
MC: Vil?
Vil: MC—
'MC~ You smell good~'
Vil: ...
MC: Please excuse me.
MC: Miss, you're inhaling the fabric conditioner.
'But this has never smelled so good before~'
Vil: Looks like you are in the middle of something.
MC: Ah, yes. Sorry. I will call you back. *hangs up*
Vil: ...
Vil: *smiles in irritation*
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aurasplanet · 2 months
Text
GOT IT CYCLOPS? carl grimes x fem!reader
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warnings — both are 18+, stupid grimes part 2, e2l?, adopted!rhee!reader, teasing, making out, fingering, jerking off, lovesick once they stop having bitch fights
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it went unspoken that you and carl were going to ignore that day in the janitor’s closet. you both were snapped into reality and rescued before things could escalate much further, leaving tension and awkwardness at a high.
and carl couldn’t tell if he liked that or not, on one hand, he’s glad he let everything out and the two of you shared a moment. on the other, you’re really hot when you’re mad.
currently you were ready to chew his ass out, ready to pound his face in for being so stupid. he walked through the streets of alexandria with you hot on his trail, a smirk playing on his lips despite the circumstances.
this was another instance where the adults were trying to put you both together again. they noticed how at peace you seemed after coming home that one day, despite being bombarded by a herd. but after that it was right back to how it was before. and they were determined.
it was mostly rick and daryl, your mom too if she weren’t at the hilltop. you can still remember carl begging you to stay and then acting like he hated your guts again when you caved.
this time the run was nearly successful, though on the way back to your car to load up and leave, carl decided to pick a fight.
carl lifts the trunk with a grunt, tossing in diapers and other things judith needed. you were carrying miscellaneous things negan would want, making your way to the car. you sling your haul into the trunk, turning with a grimace when you hear carl’s snarky laughter.
he points behind you at a trio of walkers headed your way. from the looks of it, it’s only them. but you settle for just your knife anyway. but carl’s hand is on your shoulder before you can make your way to them, they’re about thirty feet away.
“rock paper scissors for ‘em.” he smirks and holds out his fist. you narrow your eyes at him and swat at his hand.
“are you crazy? let’s just deal with them.” you remember him lecturing those kids for playing with the walkers before, now look at him.
carl lifts his hands in the air, “i forgot how afraid you are of losing.” you go to turn to him, ready to spew out the meanest things that came to your head. but he darts ahead of you, killing two of the walkers. the last one is able to get it’s hands on him while he was busying himself with it’s friends. you watch amused as he tackles it to the ground, showing a little struggle as he does so.
you make slow steps to him, watching for a while until the walker’s mouth gets dangerously close to carl’s neck. carl who was still telling you to hold off on killing it. but you ignore him, running over and piercing through it’s eye with your blade in one swift motion.
“i said i fucking had it,” carl huffs as he stands, brushing off his clothes. he looks to you, your sour expression stunning him. “what’s that look for?”
you let out a short laugh and poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue. “you had it? come on, if i wasted thirty more seconds listening to you, i’d have a dead grimes on my hands.”
carl smirks and walks closer to you, placing a hand on your waist, “didn’t know you cared that much, rhee.” you push him away with a dirty look,
“this little cool guy act doesn’t amuse me.” carl sighs and slides his knife back in his belt. “you know what will happen to me if i come back with you bit? i’ll never be trusted again.”
“admit you’d be at least a little sad.” carl’s voice isn’t teasing anymore, it sounds like he genuinely wants you to say it. like he believed you would be so heartless. you just sigh and nod, mumbling a ‘whatever’ and walk to the car. that’s enough for him.
you were still pissed at him for that little stunt, and made it very known. you followed him around all day, making sure to let any strange lookers know that his reckless behavior led him to being babysat all the time.
instead of bickering back he just took it, and even laughed. “what are you laughing at grimes?”
he shrugs, lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair. “i just like riling you up like this.” he smiles at your annoyed expression. “it’s fun!” you roll your eyes and walk past him, parting from him for the first time that day. he looks at where you were just standing, then behind him, running a bit to catch up to you. the approaching footsteps behind you cause you to sigh and cross your arms.
“what happened to babysitting me?”
his voice is still laced with humor, it’s starting to make you mad. “carl.” you whip around, your stern voice startles him, leading him to freeze. you get close to him, so close he can feel your breath on his lips. again, and it drives him crazy.
your composure falls and you adjust yourself on your feet. “carl, i’m not riled up, i’m not just babysitting you. what happened today scared me. you got too cocky with things and almost got yourself killed.”
carl bites his lip nervously, looking into your eyes. he dips his head down, not worrying about the gazes trained on you. “let me make it up to you.”
his lips brush yours and you place your hands on his chest, blocking him from going further. he pouts slightly, tilting his head. “that won’t work this time.”
that night you laid in your dark room, not bothering to turn on the lantern. you were lost in your thoughts, what if you had just let carl be? what if he did get bit? why is he playing it off like it didn’t happen? why is he playing that night off like it didn’t happen?
the last thing has made you snarkier with him. you were pissed he was acting like he hadn’t confessed to you, like he hadn’t kissed you and almost took it to the next base if it weren’t for your little rescue team.
a noise rips you out of your thoughts. it sounded like something small hitting glass. you lift the headphones of your walkman off your head and creep over to your window. on the way you slide your gun off your nightstand, would you realistically need it? nine out of ten times no one could get in the walls, but you’ve learned to never play it too safe.
another noise comes before you can reach the window and you sigh when you see the pebble hit the glass and fall. carl.
you huff and toss your gun onto your bed, rushing to the window and throwing it open. your hands slam on the window seal, a loud smack sound echoing through the night.
“that was a little dramatic.”
“what do you want, grimes?” carl answers you by climbing the tree next to your window. you roll your eyes but stand to the side to allow him entry anyway.
he breathes heavily when he makes it to the top, looking into your room and then at you through the glass. “i can come in?”
you give him a stupid look and lean on your hip, “no, i’ll push you and watch you fall and snap your neck.” you reach out and grab him by the collar to tug him in. “you can be so stupid, grimes.”
“stupid for you.” he attempts to wink but mentally face palms when he realizes that’s definitely not possible at this point. he makes a funny face at himself and you can’t help but smile, his poor attempt at being mr. smooth reminded you of that night.
then your mind drifts to how he’s ignoring it. and you’re back to mad again.
“what do you want?”
carl frowns at your tone, so you’re still mad, got it. “i want to make it up to you. besides the fact, you know, i’m still here and breathing.”
“that’s not the point carl.” you grunt as you sit on your bed, putting your revolver in your nightstand. carl sits next to you, looking at you expectantly for you to continue. a sigh leaves your lips and your head falls to look at your hands instead of him.
“you could have died.” carl opens his mouth to protest, but you’re quicker, placing a hand over his mouth. his shoulders fall dejectedly but he awaits your explanation nonetheless. “you’re being idiotic and careless and just an asshat like you were before.”
your hand slowly falls from his face and he looks at you with a glint of regret in his eye. “i just thought things would change after what you explained and confessed. i didn’t think you’d just act like nothing happened.”
he doesn’t know what to say, so his hand reaches out to grab yours when you smack it. he looks up to see your sad expression wiped away with an angered one. “and if you’d died without acting on whatever the hell that was, believe me grimes, i wouldn’t let you rest easy.” carl smiles at your returned sassy spark, the you that was so fun to toy with.
“okay then, rhee.” he grabs your hand, harsh enough to keep you from pulling away but not enough to hurt you. “catch me doing it again and you can take me out yourself.” you seem satisfied at that, causing carl to laugh at your antics.
“can i finally make it up to you now?” you quirk a brow at him, breath hitching at how close he was getting. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you, but i didn’t want to push anything.” so you do it for him, you close the gap between the two of you with a kiss slower than last time.
you pull away for a second and he chases your lips, leading you both to fall back on the mattress. “if you’re gonna make it up to me, you’re gonna do it right. we’re doing this how i want it. got it, cyclops?” he narrows his eye at you and tilts his head at the nickname, but doesn’t protest against your demands.
you slide your hand through his hair, gripping the tufts near his neck to pull his lips back to yours. he groans against your lips with every tug you make, his hips involuntarily grinding down onto yours.
you guide his right hand up to your waist and his left to your chest. he pulls away, a line of spit connecting your swollen lips. he looks down, finally realizing that all you have on is a sheer tank top and shorts. fitting for summer heat, but the lack of a bra surprises him more than it should.
he swallows thickly and feels his pants get uncomfortably tighter. the hand at your waist tugs your body closer to his while the other makes work on your nipples through your shirt. you can tell he’s inexperienced but so are you, the only thing giving it away is the confused look on his face and how needy he’s acting.
he shuts his eye tightly when you stop his movements and trail your hands down to his pants. you nod your head to the side and carl sits himself against your headboard, watching you intently. he’s breathing heavily again and his right hand comes up to cup your face.
if you were to look up you would see the adoration in his gaze, but your focus is trained on pleasing him instead. your minds are on polar opposite sides. you get his pants down and wrap your hand around him, causing him to suck in a breath through his teeth.
his hand goes to yours before you could even think about going further, “wait.” he pulls you closer to him, placing you on his lap. “i want to make it up to you.” you get the hint when he messily glides you over his cock. he shivers slightly at the contact but holds back as best as he can.
“what happened to this going my way?”
carl lets out a noise between a whine and a groan, “please.” and who are you to deny that?
“i’d like to see the protection you have then.” carl’s head falls back, knocking his hat off. he hadn’t planned things to go this far.
he throws an arm over his face, “where the hell was i supposed to get that?” you pat his cheek as a warning sign,
“don’t get snarky again. i don’t see mini rick and michonne’s running around. i’m sure you could’ve found something.” carl gives you a pointed glare, hinting at you to do the same. “i’m not going in my parent’s room, that’s a one way ticket to busted-town, grimes.”
carl huffs and pushes his sweaty hair away from his face. the comment you had made before about him being pretty, even now, has his face turning slightly pink. “i have an idea.” his hands find their way on your hips, and he looks to you for confirmation before he continues.
he guides you to get on your knees, your cunt hovering right over his dick. he takes two fingers and experimentally runs them through your folds, coating his fingers in your slick. he groans at how wet you are, trying to rack his brain for what to do next.
you giggle at him, watching the gears turn in his head. he smiles softly at you in return, sliding one of his fingers into you. he does his best at trying to keep his composure as he leads your hand to his cock, letting you take the reigns.
he curls his finger, eye searching your face for any hint of pain. your eyes meet his as you run your thumb over his slit, challenging him to keep eye contact. his mouth falls open and his movements are already getting messy. he leans in to kiss you, matching the ferocity from that night in the closet. teeth clashing and moans and heavy breaths mixing.
you feel his thumb on your clit, attempting to rub slow circles but he just can’t hold himself back. his movements echo yours, or what he wants you to give him. instead you’re being too slow for his liking, getting back at him for all his innocent teasing.
but it still gets him close, because he’s starving and it’s you. and he can tell by the way your thighs are shaking that you are too. he parts from your lips just enough to speak, “with me.” he’s so out of it, so breathless and entranced he can barely speak. “please.” you nod, speeding up your movements until his cock is twitching in your hand and making a mess of it and your sheets. though his lap isn’t much better, causing you to bury your head in his neck.
carl couldn’t help but laugh, you’ll never escape his antics if he gets this out of it.
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