#what muse am i even feeling right now

[deathxproof]

Susan Foreman, Abandonment Issues && The Past Haunting John Banville / Nicola Yoon / Franz Kafka in a letter to his father / Hera Lindsey Bird / Franz Kafka in a letter to his father(words changed, for some reason) / Eula Biss / Rainer Maria Rilke / Michael Cunningham / Richey Edwards / @ ghostheavens / The End of the F***ing World / Valeria Luiselli / Phoebe Bridgers / Katherine Fabrizio / Lang Leav / Emily Palermo / Vicente Aleixandre / Lyra Wren / Ocean Vuong / Haruki Murakami / Richard Siken

[mad-hunts]

so, i'm gonna give y'all a warning for this post immediately because i have yet to talk about this on here besides with one or two people, and the last thing i want to do is make anyone uncomfortable... but if you believe that cannibalism is a trigger for you then please do not continue beyond this point. for those of you who are okay with it, though, let me start by saying this:

barton does engage in cannibalistic acts sometimes, and this is actually one of the few, if not the only sources of shame that he feels in response to the heinous acts that he commits pretty much on the daily. and this is because he believes himself that it is disgusting and not something to be proud of; so, in a way, it does kind of demonstrate that he has some humanity left in him albeit in a very unsavory way and that's mainly why i wanted to bring it up. because his relationship with this part of him... well, it really isn't good, for lack of better words. which is understandable considering cannibalism is a rather big taboo in society, but it has become somewhat of a compulsion for him. not to excuse it in ANY capacity, of course. that is honestly just the best word i could use to describe it as i've done some research about it and, like other serial killers, barton is SO perpetually lonely that by consuming his victims -- it makes him feel like he is no longer so alone anymore as he will always be able to 'carry' a part of them with him that way, so-to-speak, and they'll never be able to leave him.

now this is obviously not the way to go about dealing with his loneliness at all, as it is extremely messed up both morally and honestly, just wrong as a human being to do. but i also believe that there are other factors at work regarding his tendency to sometimes cannibalize his victims, and that is that because of the trauma he endured at the hands of his biological father (wesley mathis) whom forced him to eat people with him. it could sort of function as a very unhealthy coping mechanism for him to navigate that complex trauma; and this is because it may serve as an attempt for him to restore a sense of control over himself that he felt was stolen from him as a child, since he had no choice but to engage in it. plus, interestingly enough, antisocial personality traits are often an underlying element in those who divulge in cannibalistic acts. and cannibals in one study have been found to have more cases of abuse / have more family members who are criminals, so this could also be indicative that his environmental upbringing very well could have a hand in his subsequent (occasional) cannibalism after he commits his killings.

i also thought i would mention that, despite his apparent depravity, barton has taken extra care not to expose his own children to the same trauma that he had to suffer from as a result of wesley (what with the 'hunting trips' that they went on) and he would NEVER want his kids to see him eating people. so, although it still is unquestionably wrong for him to be cannibalizing people, things are a little complicated in that regard. while i'm talking about it, for my closing thought, i'd like to say that the police does highly suspect that the dollmaker is a cannibal but they haven't been able to confirm it as of yet. though i'd imagine that most of the underground knows that he cannibalizes people because rumors can be spread quite quickly, and i can totally imagine the way in which people found out being that they were unfortunate enough to have to stumble upon barton just... eating someone. and a lot more casually than one should probably be about it, because half of the time, he doesn't even remember that he's done it afterward because his mind literally just blocks it out. but that's something i shall expand on more later

[bhaalsdeepbat]

Astarion and Karlach are perfect foils showing how trauma from having autonomy ripped from you, your body forcibly changed, and then used as a pawn serving a master can present wildly different, but still with that same under layer of RAGE.

[jimingyue]

Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator

🖋️ meowful-musings Follow

🕊️ birdwatching Follow

what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine

💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204

op wheres the natural feeding option

🌲 outdoorsy Follow

you guys are getting fed?

#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look

7,192 notes

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3

🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow

as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3

#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....

154,688 notes

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right

❤️ loving-paws284 Follow

um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...

🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow

OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD

🐟 tunafeesh Follow

also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks

anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse

#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now

32,456 notes

🍃 naturalliving Follow

BORN TO DIE

WORLD IS A FUCK

猫神 Kill Em All 1989

I am trash cat

410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS

#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly

48,971 notes

🎣 salmonpurina Follow

can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther

#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks

34 notes

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!

🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow

evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

make your own pawst

💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721

umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...

👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow

Nyaverage shelter cat behavior

#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up

545,460 notes

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo

💡 discourse-meows Follow

hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

1. i was making. a joak

2. i'm literally gay???

#literally what's your pawblem

7 notes

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

i know you fuckers are lying

🍭 gaykittens Follow

this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

shut the heull up

988,653 notes

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise

🐁 ladymouser Follow

op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us

[nocentis]

Siegrain ┆ Canon-Divergent

Year: x793 Name: Siegrain Fernandes (formerly Jellal Fernandes) Status: Fugitive, Vagrant, Independent Mage Guild Affiliations: None Magic Type: caster, Heavenly Body Magic & True Heavenly Body Magic, Dark Magic Base Personality: neurotic, resentful, conniving, power-hungry, & insecure. Major divergence point: post-Nirvana; during the 7 year time-skip

Background:

After being taken into custody for treason and subsequently imprisoned, Jellal begins to regain some of his memories — the first of which are of being tortured by guards of the R-System. As the prison guards continue to treat him in similar ways, he feels a deeply buried resentment burgeoning. This resentment stains the rest of his memories as they return to him, and rather than feeling appropriately ashamed of his transgressions, he only feels embarrassment at having lost.

When Ultear and Meredy break him out of prison, he is at first grateful. Once Ultear confesses her hand in the Tower of Heaven, how she used him as a decoy at Hades' instruction, and the fact that Zeref was never truly dead, he denounces her entirely. His bitterness consumes him to the point of denial. He refuses to accept that he could've been used in such a way and instead begins to distance himself from the name 'Jellal'.

He does not go on to co-found Crime Sorciere with Ultear and Meredy. Instead, he decides to travel on his own, at first to lick his wounds and then to seek strength, knowledge, & power incessantly. He takes on the name Siegrain and aspires never to suffer such a humiliating defeat so long as he lives.

He continues to carry a torch for Erza, but his feelings are rooted in obsession rather than love. The news of her "death" impacted him greatly and only strengthened his brewing desire to find and kill Zeref. His cause is not a benevolent one, it is founded in anger, hatred, and a dire need to feel superior. Beneath all of this is crushing insecurity.

Upon the return of the lost Fairy Tail guild members, Siegrain paid Erza a visit privately. He did not participate in GMG.

Siegrain participated in the final fight against The Spriggan Twelve, Acnologia, and Zeref for self-serving reasons. He was not pardoned alongside Crime Sorciere and Oracion Seis. He is still living his life as a fugitive and a vagrant, boiling with resentment about not being the one to kill Zeref.

[spider-stark]

LADY STRONG

Benjicot Blackwood x Velaryon/Strong!Reader

Summary - Stuck in the Riverland's on a marriage tour, you pretend to be Lady Strong when Benjicot Blackwood doesn't recognize you as the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms

Warnings - none except not edited!!

Word Count - 3.1k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

As if the prospect of a marriage tour was not horrid enough, your first stop was proving to be positively dreadful.  

You had imagined the lands surrounding the Trident to be beautiful. A lush, verdant landscape—filled with fragrant herbs and bright, blooming flowers, painting the Riverlands in rich, colorful hues. You pictured babbling streams and plush grass, stunning castles and, perhaps, some equally as stunning men.  

What you hadn’t imagined, however, was the weather.  

Even from within the confines of Riverrun—the ancestral castle of House Tully—you still feel the effects of the merciless heat beating down upon the sandstone walls.  

Your handmaids had tried to dress you accordingly, stuffing you into your thinnest—and, consequently, your least regal—gown, in hopes that it might prevent sunstroke. Yet still, even as three of Lord Tully’s own servants try fanning you while you sulk in the dining hall, you feel as though every inch of your body is drenched in sticky sweat.  

“This is miserable,” you groan to Ser Lorent, the Kingsguard who had been assigned to your tour. Flanking your right, you spare the knight a pitiful, sidelong glance. “I believe I would sooner die a spinster than be forced to live in this sweltering purgatory!”  

The servants, haphazardly positioned around the table, remain utterly stone-faced, not letting on if they found your comment about their homelands to be humorous or offensive.  

Ser Lorent merely laughs. “The Riverlands are known for their humid summers, princess.” With a wink, he adds, “If you ever bothered with your studies, you would know this.”  

“I study!”  

“With the blade, perhaps,” Ser Lorent muses, his teal eyes twinkling with lighthearted mockery. “But certainly not with books, princess.  

Rolling your eyes, you slump further into your chair, your body practically melting into the upholstery. “Leave the geography lessons to Jace,” you tell him, waving an idle hand. “After all, he's the heir to the Iron Throne. I am merely the prized broodmare—” focusing on your plate, and the half-eaten lunch upon it, you try swallowing the bitter tang now filling your mouth—“a royal womb to be sold off to the highest bidder.”  

And, at times, you aren’t even sure if that is considered an honest truth… You’ve certainly never felt royal.  

Like your brothers, you were born extraordinarily plain-featured. With no silver hair or lilac eyes, you appear more like a common-born peasant than someone of prized Valyrian stock—and it didn’t help that, unlike your brothers, you had no dragon, either.  

Ser Lorent watches as you absently push a piece of seared cod around your plate, sighing. “That isn’t true, my princess.” His words are tinged with sympathy. “You are being sold to no one. Your mother wishes for you to have a marriage born of love—not duty.”  

“Ah, yes,” stabbing the fish with the prongs of your fork, you bring it to your lips, “which is why I’m being forced to spend my summer meeting with the haughty sons of fat country lords—for love.”  

His tongue clicks with disapproval. “Your mother has given you a choice in selecting your own husband, princess; which is a luxury not granted to many women.”  

Frowning, you pop the piece of fish into your mouth, turning his words over in your head.  

Gods.  

You hate it when he’s right.  

“Fine,” you relent, still chewing. Turning sideways in your chair, you raise your fork to him in a mock threat, “But my earlier statement stands! If I must take a husband, then it certainly won’t be anyone from here—lest I become no more than a puddle of sweat.”  

Ser Lorent cracks a smile at you. “Should you turn to a puddle, princess, then I vow to mop you from the floor.”  

“How valiant of you, Ser Lorent,” you laugh. “I’m unsure of how I might ever repay you for such loyalty.”  

“I’m not sure you have to worry about that, princess—I don’t believe that puddles are much concerned with matters of debt.”  

Turning back to the table, another soft laugh spills from your lips. “I suppose you’re right, Ser.”  

All too soon, however, your amusement begins to fade. A warm breeze blows in through the many open windows lining Riverrun’s dining hall, the stifling air only accentuating the stickiness of your skin.  

Sucking in a deep, heavy breath, you ask, “How long do we have?”  

Ser Lorent doesn’t ask for clarification, knowing almost at once what you were asking him. “We’re expected back in the Great Hall in a little under an hour, princess.”  

You blow the breath out, groaning slightly.  

An hour—that's all the time you had left before you would be forced back upon the dais, expected to once again smile and be cordial as men and boys from all across the Riverlands made their case for your hand.  

How many of them could possibly be left? This morning alone you had met with dozens upon dozens of them, their voices all blurring into a monotonous hum as they spoke of the history of their Houses—if one can consider nonsensical legends from the ancient Age of Heroes as true history, that is.  

Noticing the dreadful pall cast over you, Ser Lorent clamps a comforting hand on your shoulder. “How about a walk before we go back? It might help to clear your head,” he suggests. Then, with a wry grin, “Perhaps you might wish to think back on the men from this morning—see if any of them might make you change your tune about life in the Riverlands.”  

You pin him with a playful scowl. “There’s not a man alive that could change that tune,” you vow. “But you’re right—a walk might be nice.”  

Rising from your seat, the servants around you lower their fans, silently dismissing themselves.  

“Will you be accepting my company on this walk?” Ser Lorent teases—though you know what he’s really asking is: will you be accepting my protection.  

“After this morning, I believe I’ve had enough company for a lifetime.”  

The knight’s brow draws tight, an apprehensive frown beginning to pull at the corners of his lips. You roll your eyes.  

“Oh, don’t worry so much, Ser Lorent. It gives you wrinkles,” you tease. Adjusting the slit running along one side of your dress, you reveal the dagger holstered on your thigh. “I assure you that if any of these Riverlanders dare lay a hand on me, they’ll lose some fingers.”  

Ser Lorent snorts, head shaking. “It’s not you I worry about, princess,” he jokingly admits. “Just stay close by, understand? Your mother will have my head if anything happens to you.”  

“Yes, yes—understood,” you dramatically gripe, already walking past him to the exit.  

“Oh, and princess?” He calls out just as the guards pull the doors open for you to leave. You glance over your shoulder at him, brows lifted. “At least try not to injure anyone.”  

With one last roll of your eyes, bright with mischief, you shout on your way out, “No promises, Ser Lorent!”  

Wandering through the outer yards of Riverrun, the blistering sun beating down upon your skin, you find yourself overwhelmed by a sudden ache in your chest.  

You miss home. Desperately.  

You miss Dragonstone’s near-constant cover of clouds, forever shielding you from the heat. You miss the cool breeze rolling in off the Blackwater, the air peppering your cheeks with salty kisses.  

But even as you dream of a reprieve from the muggy Riverlands, you can’t help but miss your family—your brothers—most of all.  

Perhaps it is that feeling that led you here, to the training yard, guided by the familiar lull of splintering wood and steel slicing through the air, the sound offering a much-needed remedy to the homesickness twisting in your gut.  

Smaller than the one at Dragonstone, Riverrun’s yard was no more than a cramped stretch of dusty-dirt, lined with old training dummies and archery targets. Mostly encircled by the towering sun-bleached stones of the castles, only a small part of the yard remained open to the sprawling gardens beyond, sectioned off by ornate iron fencing.  

Striding over the open gate, your attention falls upon the lone boy standing in the yard's center.  

As the sunlight beats down overhead, long shadows dance around his feet as he glides through a set of movements—each step calculated, every strike deliberate.  

You step closer, keeping your steps light as you approach. With his back turned to you, you watch as sweat drips down his neck, glistening. It soaks into his tunic, the thin black material clinging to his lean, muscled back.  

He’s talented—you think, studying his form.  

Talent is something you're familiar with—intimately. You were raised around warriors—trained by the Rogue Prince himself. Yet never before had you found yourself so utterly bewitched by a fighter.  

He didn’t move like other boys.  

He wasted no time on the flowery style displayed by so many summer children—the ones who thought of battle as a performance rather than a matter of life or death.  

Instead, he moved with the lethal prowess of an apex predator—his blade cutting through the air with a controlled ferocity that, while lacking the flourish of other warriors, was undeniably impressive.  

Dirt flies as he throws himself into another set of movements—a series of strikes and parries, executing with unbelievable precision. With every twist and pivot, muscles tense and shift beneath his tunic, his body as powerful a weapon as his sword.  

He lunges forward—and wood cracks! as he slashes his blade along the belly of one of the dummies, a move that would have disemboweled a living opponent.  

Cutting through the sudden stillness, you bring your hands up to your chest, filling the yard with a slow clap. Back still turned to you, the boy's spine goes ramrod straight at the unexpected sound.  

“Impressive,” you muse, taking another step towards him. Mere feet remain between the two of you, now. “You move well—better than most, I’d say.”  

The boy spins around to face you, his once elegant movements now blundering as he nearly trips over his own feet. Biting your tongue, you try to hold in a laugh.  

Big, storm-cloud eyes meet your gaze, pinning you in place as he blinks, visibly thrown-off by your presence. “Sorry-” he stammers, out of breath. “I didn’t think anyone else would be coming out here-”  

You lift a hand, cutting him off with a smile. “Oh, no—don’t apologize on my account! I enjoyed the show,” you tell him. “Seems that you have a real talent for swordplay.”  

His cheeks flush, his lightly sun-kissed skin turning a stark crimson. “Thanks.” His laugh is a nervous, awkward thing—endearing, too. He sticks a hand out towards you, the other still limply holding his sword. “Benjicot. Blackwood,” he introduces himself, fumbling over his words, “but you can call me Ben or Benji—or anything, really.”  

You take his hand, biting your lip to mask your amusement. “Pleasure to meet you, Benji.”  

A beat of silence passes before confusion finally tugs at his features, his hand falling back to his side. “Uhm—” another sweet, awkward laugh— “and you are…?”  

Realization dawns on you, leaving your brows to shoot up to your hairline.  

Seven Hells. He doesn't know, does he?

A sudden speechlessness grabs hold of your tongue.  

You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised—after all, you aren't what many expected of a Targaryen princess.

Plain-featured and dressed in thin, common clothes, you imagine you likely appear no different than the servants surrounding you at lunch, fanning you to keep the heat from going to your head.  

Even so, it's rare that you met someone who doesn't know who you are. And, selfishly, after a morning filled with insincere compliments from haughty Lord’s, you like the idea of remaining nameless—titleless—for the first time in your life.  

“Wow—sorry—that was thoughtless of me, wasn’t it?” Tapping a finger to your temple, you laugh. “I’m Mylissa,” you lie, stealing the name of one of your handmaidens. “Mylissa Strong.”  

“Strong?” He echoes, brow furrowing. “Strange—you don’t sound like you’re from the Riverlands. Your accent is—”  

“Southern?”  

Benji nods.  

“Well, I’ve spent the better part of my life in the Crownlands, so I suppose I’ve picked up their accent,” you explain. “I’m here with the princess, actually—as her lady-in-waiting.”  

The mention of the princess—you—turns his skin a pasty white.  

Keeping a tight leash on your curiosity, you try not to sound too intrigued when you ask, “And what about you? Raventree Hall is a decent ride from here, is it not?” On horseback, the ancestral seat of House Blackwood was two days away from Riverrun, if not three. “Are you here to meet with the princess?”  

Benji shifts his weight, leaning from one foot to the other. “Supposed to,” he begins, his words tumbling out, “but I don’t know—I’m not so sure that I’ll go through with it.”  

Your expression falters, disappointment washing over you like a cold wave, combatting the intolerable warmth of the sun.  

“Why not?”  

He shrugs—a timid, shy gesture that feels so unlike the predator you had snuck up on. “There are over a hundred men in there,” he waves an arm to the castle, to the Great Hall within, “all waiting for an opportunity to impress the princess—meanwhile, I can hardly get out a single sentence without choking on my own spit.”  

Your laughter bubbles up involuntarily, a few giggles spilling past your lips. The Blackwood boy shoots you a playful glare from beneath long, dark lashes.  

“Well,” you begin, absentmindedly toeing the dirt between you, “perhaps the princess might find it endearing, don’t you think?”  

Benji scoffs. “Doubtful. I mean, think about it!—she’s a princess!”  

Your eyes widen, glimmering with mock-offense. “And what is that supposed to mean?”  

Once again, that crimson tinge returns to his skin, crawling up his neck, this time.  

“I meant no offense,” he defends himself, mistaking your expression for one of a Lady meaning to defend her princess. “But what could I possibly offer a princess?”  

You tilt your head, pretending to think on his words. “Well, the Blackwoods do have a history of being valiant warriors, do they not? And you seem to be quite skilled yourself,” you say, daring to let your stare drift down to his arms, the short sleeves of his tunic revealing well-muscled, sweat-slick biceps.  

He snorts. “I’m willing to guess that the princess would likely care naught for my skill with a sword.”  

“Then you would guess wrong,” you retort, a faint, teasing smile on your lips. “Many say that the princess herself is quite skilled with a blade—I imagine she would quite like a boy that’s capable of challenging her.”  

Benji’s eyes darken a shade, an unreadable expression crossing his features. “And what about you, Mylissa?”  

The false name catches you off-guard, but you do your best to hide it.  

“What of me?”  

A bit nervous, he asks, “Would you like a boy that can challenge you?”  

Your heart stutters in your chest—skipping several beats as his stare lowers, dipping past your waist and falling upon your thigh. On the dagger sheathed there, no doubt.  

Heat begins to crawl up your neck, hotter even than the sun's blistering rays. “Oh—” You stutter, words lost upon you.  

It’s true that you were used to the attention of men. After all, your morning has been filled with it, and soon enough the rest of your day will be, too.  

But this was different.  

Benji wasn’t giving you attention because you’re a princess, a mere royal womb to strengthen his House’s bloodline. Rather, he was doing it simply because he wanted to—a feeling that was utterly foreign to you.  

Wiping a clammy hand on his sweaty tunic, Benji misreads your silence, taking a half-step back. “Apologies, my Lady—that was too forward and-”  

You don’t let him finish his rambling. Taking a step forward, you close the gap he sought to create between you. “I’ll make you a deal.”  

“A deal?”  

You nod. “As you know, the princess will be in the Great Hall for the rest of the evening, holding court with the other Lord’s who’ve come for her hand. I'd like for you to meet with her.”  

Benji cocks his head, confusion crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I truly mean no disrespect to your princess, my Lady, but I was asking if you might be interested in–”  

“I know what you’re asking, Benji.” You lift one shoulder in a casual shrug. “And after you meet with the princess, if you still wish to inquire about my hand,” you say, placing a palm to your chest, “then I will happily hear you out.”  

In the distance, a bell sounds out—signaling the time, you realize.  

“If you’ll excuse me,” you start, already taking a few small half-steps backwards. “I’m expected inside.”  

Letting his sword drop to the ground, Benji lunges forward to catch your wrist. “So you agree to meet with me after court, then?”  

“If you’re still interested,” you muse, a tinge of anxiety laced through your tone, “then yes.”  

The corners of his lips twitch into a bashful smile. “I give you my word that–”  

You planned to interrupt him. To tell him not to make oaths he wasn’t certain he could keep, knowing that he may very well change his mind about you once he realizes who you are—that you’re not technically a Strong. But, before you can, another voice intervenes.  

“Princess!” Ser Lorent calls out, exasperated, as he walks through the gate. “We must hurry, princess,” he continues, pausing only to give a wary glance at Benji’s hands wrapped around your wrist. “We’re late.”  

Your pulse begins to pound, a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins at being exposed as a liar by Ser Lorent. 

Benji’s face goes blank—then his eyes go wide, big as saucers as you snag your wrist from his grip.  

“Princess...” He utters, voice laden with disbelief. “Princess?!”  

You can hardly bring yourself to do anything other than grin stupidly at him, nearly stumbling over yourself as you back-up to where Ser Lorent is waiting impatiently.  

“It was lovely meeting you, Benji!”  

You hope he can hear just how genuine your words are.  

“I’ll see you in the Great Hall,” you call out over your shoulder, sparing him one last glance as Ser Lorent guides you to the gate, watching as he blinks in astonishment, still processing the revelation.  

Walking back towards the inner-castle, Ser Lorent glances down at you with a knowing look. “You seem giddy.” There’s a teasing glint to his words that makes you roll your eyes, cheeks flushing. “So,” he continues, his brisk pace never faltering, “does this mean that your statement from lunch no longer stands? That, perhaps, this sweltering purgatory may yet grow on you?”  

You bite your cheek, a permanent grin still etched onto your face.  

“Let’s just say that I’ve decided it’s best to keep my options open, Ser Lorent.”  

a/n - you may ask yourself: lainie, why would you refer to him as mostly BEN in the last fic and BENJI in this one??

and the answer? I have not ONE clue. my brain is rotting and benji is cute.

anyways, hope you guys enjoy this one! feel like I got to explore more of his personality here. additionally, I need HBO to know that if this boy ends up not being benjicot blackwood then I'm gonna fucking riot

benjicot blackwood tag list - @a-song-for-ages @ghostinvenus

[oculusxcaro]

I absolutely love your portrayal of Khare! You thought through about how her mutation works. Which amphibians she was basically fused with and how they each have their own role in her mutation that when brought together makes for a very cool yet terrifying way to live.

Also such a beautiful tragedy with her story. How she had a normal life before being snatched away to get experimented on by Prometheus. Her escape, how the heavy trauma doesn't stop there nor does the practical storytelling as she had to survive in the wilderness on her own for a time. Gaining injuries and of the sort until she ends up in Gotham city. A perfect place to lay low from people who work for Prometheus as there still could be a chance they're out looking for her.

How her mutation slowly spreads, hindering her memory and slowly eating away her mind. And that's ALONG with the eyes and teeth growing all over her body especially after getting juried. The uncertainty of if there is a cure, or a way to keep the mutation at bay. Or if Khare's fate is sealed and she is living on precious time. How one day, she'll loose herself. Every bit that makes her human, the friends she's made, her compassion, kindness, her determination. All her emotions and thoughts slowly decay as she watches her own body deform into something else.

Not to mention how relatable and sympathetic someone may feel when Khare is too scared to tell her family that she's alive because of how powerful Prometheus is. Like, a giant corporation, with MANY connections. Surely they figured out where her family lives and are waiting for the day Khare might return.

All of this to say that you have a perfect balance of tragedy along with a slice of life. The way you write Khare being drained from long shifts hits the nail on the head on how it actually feels like. It's so easy getting entranced with your writing! always worth waiting for as it's always so descriptive even when it's just a few sentences! Khare is just so human and I love it!

Her mutations are very cool but they actually come with a cost and you show it. Which I don't think is done enough in media. (especially with some superhero powers where theirs "comes with a cost" but it actually doesn't show or feel like it does. It's just generic and on top of that the superhero is out doing superhero shit. Contradictory with Khare. Who actually reads and FEELS like a normal person being stuck with powers that come with a cost but only wants a normal life. And actually lives a normal life! That's what makes Khare stand out. Because in the situations where she does fight it feels more genuine and so much less scripted.)

Please tell me your favorite things about my portrayal/muse?

RUUUUUUUUUE, WHY YOU GOTTA SLAY ME LIKE THIS???? 😭😭😭😭 This right here? Is hands down is the loveliest message EVER like... where do we even begin? First and foremost, thank you so, so much for taking the time to write down and send such a dedicated and thoughtful message - it means the world to me, as do YOU in having been such a phenomenal writing partner through both Rorschach and Oswald (and while we're at it, let's not forget Dan!) Receiving such a detailed message about the things you like concerning Khare is just about the highest praise imaginable considering what an excellent writer you are yourself! You have a fantastic eye for storytelling, delving deep into the narrative to shape not only your muse but the world they live in, how they grow and develop through interacting with that world which is not always the easiest take and yet somehow you always make it seem so effortless? Ever since we started talking, your writing has been a huge influence and a stellar example of roleplaying to not only look up to but to admire and emulate. Writing is hard as fuck even on the best of days but you? Have really helped shape my perspective on so many things, how to write well without padding everything with purple prose and to get into a muse's head. Rorschach is a beautiful example of that what with being very much in his head (and not the forthcoming man in his feelings or words.) It's just one of the many reasons I love the relationship our muses have, Rorschach being incredibly unhinged and aggressive as he was during Watchmen but clearly having changed since his untimely demise, awakening somewhere in the middle of Gotham. You've made that feel so real, how very disconcerting it would feel to die only to wake up in a completely different world, in a universe oddly similar yet so different to the one you left behind. And then there's Dan over on @made-of-archimedes, being Rorschach's polar opposite in being so much more approachable and affable but having his 'darker' side present too, his woes, his worries and very real concerns. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you encapsulate personality so well, making your muses feel so very human with minds of their own, as though you've plucked them straight from the movie. You mentioned once before how you didn't feel you did that, that maybe you weren't writing them 'right' but that's not true at all. Your portrayal made me love your two ragingly repressed men and to appreciate their characters all the more after seeing them from your lens. Ah, I'm so sorry to have waffled on like that but honestly Rue, how you're always so kind and thoughtful is a mystery even Dr. Manhatten couldn't solve. Thank you again so much for saying so many wonderful things about Khare! I've tried so hard to describe some of these things (with less success than I'd have liked) so for you to have nailed everything on the head like you did? Means a lot to me, from your thoughts regarding her mutation to her struggles and fears to why she doesn't contact her family back home. She's fucking scared, completely at a loss on what to do or even if she'll manage to survive when every day there's a new tooth or eye to greet her. Her mutation isn't a cute issue at all, instead being the shit-covered end of the stick of gaining a 'useful' power with very heavy costs. Not everybody gets superpowers like Peter Parker and her story is an example of what happens when things go terribly, terribly wrong. Tumblr is getting fucky now and won't save this post so again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for such a lovely, uplifting message! It means so much that you like my silly frog-fish shambling flesh horror of a girl and her relationship with Rorschach is hands down my favourite part about her development as a character! I look forwards to interacting with him (and Dan) much more in future and for their stories to continue!

[rxmye]

" 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — For so long, he found art in his surroundings, nature was his muse . . who would've thought that he'd be able to find another muse, within you.

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / obsessive / unhealthy themes / I guess the reader is his 'hater' / perfectionist yandere / kind of egotistic yandere / he has a praise kink frfr / maybe a bit self centered . . / kind of unedited / also might appeal to ppl with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: I feel like Lore takes up a good chunk of this fic, but enjoy . . also might be one of my longest fics . .

He was a calming presence, and a thoughtful friend to all he called his own. Elegance took a human form, in Xavier Wilson—A beautiful work of art indeed . . Born presenting a talent that could rival many others in the industry.

From a young age, Xavier presented himself as a man of the arts, often drawing out vivid tapestries of his dreams or memories. He would often lose himself in the pages of his notebook, scribbling away with intricate drawings and stories, his mind was his own magnum opus.

However—people was never his strong suit. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, surely if he was as magnificent as those around him expressed, he'd most certainly be able to recreate the portraits of those around him?—But no, none of his portraits could compare to his various other works.

As he got a bit older, his mother decided to enroll him in classes that could help expand his talents, which ranged from various music lessons, theater (didn't end well), art history—etc . . .

Xavier let out a breathy sigh, staring at the keys of the grand piano absentmindedly—his gloved fingers gently glide over the keys, tired would be the best way to describe him as of right now—his professor had left an hour ago, yet Xavier couldn't find it in himself to move.

Truth be told, Xavier wasn't a fan of music, he preferred quiet solitude—and though he had long since gotten used to the sound of the piano, violin, and any of the other ridiculous instruments his mother was so keen on getting him to play—he still preferred the silence over all.

Over the course of time, Xavier disinterest towards music dimmed—Alongside his distaste towards instruments . . He figured the reason he disliked it so much was due to his inability to play as perfectly as his professor . . Xavier was a perfectionist, and anything he couldn't perfect was simply 'wrong' in his eyes, and as he reached his teen years, he accepted that fact wholeheartedly.

Xavier stood still, as his mother fixed his tie for him—he could do it himself but he let her enjoy this moment, she always disliked watching her son 'grow up so fast'—"are you nervous?", she asked softly, gently holding his hands, smiling so brightly.

'Am I nervous?—' he thought, clearly not. He felt calm, neutral even. It was his first big show, yet internally he knew that things would end well for him, he could feel it. He's always been lucky, in fact his father's nickname for him as a child was quite literally 'Puer aureus' which translated to 'the golden boy' from Latin.

He clicked his tongue, a common habit of his—especially when he wasn't being exactly truthful—he paused for a moment as if to think, then he smiled at his mother, "Just a bit, but I'll be fine" he spoke calmly, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. "Don't worry, I've prepared well for this . . Haven't I?"

Praise, he adored praise, and that day he received quite a lot of it—not just from his parents, or acquaintances . . .—but crowds of people. Honestly, it stroked his ego, quite a bit . .

By seventeen years of age, Xavier's talent was known worldwide, his rise to fame quite massive and fast . . He had to attend class, while also hosting live performances and art galleries. (such a struggle, really . . .)

University admissions were coming around, and most of his friends had chosen what schools they plan on applying to—what path they plan on going into—what school they hope to go to the most, the conversation was an eye opener and yet it all felt so bitter.

Xavier tapped his pen on the table, zoning out from the conversation his friends were having . . only to zone back in when Neva spoke, "—so Xavier, have you decided where you'll be applying too . . ? I'm sure you'll get in."

He clicked his tongue in response, closing his eyes absentmindedly as he spoke, "To be honest, not really . . probably something arts related?", Xavier was about to speak up again but stopped himself, starring down at the table, a sigh escaping his lips.

"That seems like a waste of money", he looked up, starring at Oliver with questioning eyes, and Oliver quickly explained himself, "Art school is great and all—But it won't really make much of a difference for you, in fact the rules could restrict your talent . . It could be better for you to just try something new? You're good in school a degree outside of your comfort zone may be something good for you!"

He hated that his friend was right, he hated being wrong. He prided himself for always knowing what was best for himself and his abilities, and in a spur of pettiness he found himself taking art anyway, trying to prove his friend wrong . . even though he was well aware his intentions were pure in all ways.

Xavier had done well in his courses so far, and with his fame, he was breezing through classes—and yet, when the topics of portraits came up . . he found all that floating out the window.

None of the models they had for class, felt right—none of the art he did, felt authentic . . felt like himself, when it came to art, Xavier took everyone to paradise, his art felt like peace . . his art was calm . . his music was soft, lulling almost . .

Yet now, as he stared at his canvas, covered in mixed harsh colours, a vibrant mess of paint, his brushes wrecked, paint dripping from the easel . . It felt like anything but calm.

And that's when he dropped out, a question to his perfection would wreck the fragile image of himself he had created in his mind, a man so perfect and lucky in his own right a humbling experience like that was to never see the light of day.

Xavier found himself turning to something different, just like Oliver suggested, his alternatives were selective, yet he kept many paths open, Photography, fashion, and business were his top picks and things he found himself surprisingly enjoying . . Surely if he could paint and create melodies of such wonders, then he can stitch some fabric together, solve a few equations, and take a few photo's here and there just fine . . right?

A few years had past, and Xavier was now running his very own Luxury fashion line, he still hosted art galleries here and there, and composed music on the side, but his business took up most of his time.

But on his free days he'd turn to photography, taking pictures of things he sought comfort in . . and people, he'd often take pictures of unsuspecting people, pretty ones . . people not so pretty as well, just to try and recreate the life they had on a canvas . . yet somehow always failing to do so.

The moment Xavier found himself close, he'd reach a dead end . . and that destroyed him, internally.

Over the years, he accepted the small flaws in his behavior, and tried his best to reform them, presenting himself as the perfect public figure. He did go to therapy in the past, but when things started rising up, he quit entirely.

Xavier laid back on his office chair, and scrolled through his recent posts comment section, and as expected almost all of it was praise . . some of envy, but that only fueled his ego more . . Until he found a comment that set him off, "His art is so melancholy, it feels a bit sad . . His previous works were brighter, like more happy but now it kind of feels sad . . Like the life in his work isn't there anymore."

Xavier stared at the comment dumbfounded, never had he received that kind of feedback . . portraits he drew were indeed lifeless, but his other art was always regarded as lively, and that was what he always strived for . . Curious, and in a fit of rage . . he clicked on the commenters profile, and saw you.

You, you . . You were what he was looking for, his muse. So, full of life . . He scrolled through your page, and couldn't help but feel the urge to draw you, and paint you . . and paint you he did. . Because soon his entire studio was filled with pieces inspired by you . . so full of 'life' . . .

Yet at some point, he had reached the end of your posts, and it just wasn't enough . . he needed you . . He wanted your feedback, he craved your praise . . like no other, he wanted input . . he wanted to know if his work was truly still lifeless . . he wanted you.

After all, a artist isn't complete without his muse.

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[saeist]

a/n: alternate universe where touya didn't go insane and goes to UA :] dedicated to the loml @saerins cus we're on our touya brainrot + went a little insane with this instead...

"jesus doll, excited now are we?" touya muses, a smirk on his lips as he lets you push him inside your small and cramped bathroom.

rolling your eyes, you motioned him to sit down on the toilet lid while you prepare the shower. making sure the water is just the right temperature or else you might burn touya's head off when you rinse the hairdye off his hair

"is this the part where you remove your shirt and i suck on a titty?" touya says more of a statement rather than a cheeky question. you stop yourself from hitting the boy that has his signature lopsided smirk with the shower head you were currently holding

with an exasperated sigh and a pinch to your nose bridge, you answer him

"just shut up for once, touya. besides, won't your dad kill you if he found out you're dying your hair black? or did you forget that he almost kicked you out of the house when he saw your piercings for the first time?" you raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend who decided at the last minute to dye his hair as a sign of "rebellion against his "uptight, stick far up his ass dad" his words, not yours

"he can manage" touya huffs, scoffing at the memory of his dad yelling at him for acting and starting to look like a good for nothing delinquent or in endeavour's words, a villain. "it's not like it's my duty to keep our image of a "perfect family". if only the rest of the world knew what its like to have endeavor as your deadbeat dad!"

touya and endeavour never really got a long per say.. at least that's what touya tells you whenever he had a shit day training with endeavor. days where he would train with his dad were usually days where he'd opt to spend the night at your dorm. away from all the chaos inside the todoroki estate that he unfortunately refers to as his home

but to touya, at the end of the day, you are his home. his peace, his serenity, his anchor in this world where hell could break loose at any given moment

"don't give me that look, doll" touya sighs, shoulders dropping when he noticed you were staring at him.

"i just don't want to see you hurt all over again. you almost gave me a heart attack that one time when you showed up here unannounced" you pout, letting touya slowly wrap his arms around your waist.

touya’s arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. “i can handle the old man. it’s his problem if he can’t accept me for who i am,” he mutters, resting his forehead against your stomach

"i mean, he already stopped giving a shit when he realized i can't withstand my flames, so who am i to give a shit back after everything he did to me?" touya continues, his grip tightening

you run your fingers through his hair gently, feeling the warmth of his presence. “shhh, we already talked about this" you shush him, "all i'm saying is that i just want you to be safe, touya. i can’t stand seeing you hurt,” you whisper, your voice tinged with worry.

he looks up at you, his usual smirk replaced with a rare, sincere expression. “i know, doll. i know." touya presses light kisses on your stomach, "but I have to be true to myself, even if it means pissing off endeavor” he chuckles, the pads of his thumb rubbing circles on your exposed skin

you both stay in that position in silence for a bit. just finding comfort with each other's presence. just the way touya likes it. nice and quiet. a contrast to his daily hellish life back at his own home

that is until touya starts to feel his scalp burn a little

"okay fun time's over, doll. my scalp's startin' to kill me here" touya shudders, slowly unwrapping his arms around you as he reaches for the shower head in your hand.

you stifle in your laughter watching him make a fuss inside your cramped bathroom.

that is until, you remembered that your bathroom tiles were pearly white and if he's rinsing off black hairdye then–

"TOUYA MY TILES!" you let out a screech

"too late, doll" touya pokes his tongue out at you, hair dye getting all over your walls and cold tiles.

you were gonna pay one hefty fine if you don't clean this shit up as soon as possible.

now, touya sits on your bed. drying his freshly dyed jet black hair with a towel and you're not even gonna lie to yourself. he looked a little too good for your liking. touya has always been a looker himself but with this new hairdo.. oh lord

"why are you looking at me like you want to eat me?" touya chuckles, hanging the now stained towel around his neck as he leans back on your bed with his elbows propped. he was giving you bedroom eyes, quite literally and figuratively.

what a tease!

"nothing. just making sure that i'm still talking to touya and not his emo alter ego dabi" you mused, plopping down on your bed next to him.

touya laughs at your comment. eyes turning into crescent moons

“thanks for everything, y/n,” touya says softly, voice full of genuine love and appreciation.

your heart swells at the sight of touya like this. you would move mountains if you could just to see touya– your touya happy.

"i love you, touya" you lean in for a kiss. to which touya happily returns the favor.

"i love you more than life, doll." touya smiles lazily against the kiss, cranking his neck to the side for more access as he deepens the kiss.

moments like these with you is when touya feels like he's on top of the world and he hopes it will forever stay like this cause to touya, he can face anything the world throws at him when he knows you'll be there right by his side

[nariism]

Could you write Neuvillette blushes so bad when reader called him an otter.

a/n: hi anon! this is cute... yeah guys this is the obligatory neuvillette otter fic on my blog now, enjoy it ●ᴥ●

He shouldn't be feeling jealous. He knows how ridiculous it is to be envious of such a tiny critter, especially one that's been seeking equal amounts of attention from both you and him.

But he can't help it.

"Look!" You hold the otter up into the air, dangling it around in front of his face. The otter trills, curling up into a ball and giving Neuvillette what he can only imagine is the equivalent of puppy-dog eyes.

"Are you sure it is safe to pick it up like that?" Neuvillette murmurs, watching as you peer around the creature with a wide smile.

You're completely ignoring his concerns about scooping up a wild animal, unable to contain your excitement from finally having a chance to grab one of them. "It looks just like you. How cute!"

And he also knows that such a passing comment meant to tease him shouldn't make heat crawl up his neck, but it does anyways.

"How in the world does it look like me?"

Your fingers scratch at the top of the otter's head and it's horrible that all he can imagine is your hands doing the same to him.

You turn the critter around in the air like you're showing off your child, to which the man can only stare in confusion. "White fur, cute face. Even has blue streaks, like your horns!"

"I don't see it." (Correction, he refuses to see it.)

The otter makes another noise and licks his nose, clearly content with being the center of attention. He only scowls, cheeks flushing when he realizes how much you adore the damned thing.

"So adorable," you grin, cradling it in your arms. "Just- just...! So cute!"

He's pretty sure you're malfunctioning with the overload of cuteness. He fares no better, brain melting with every hard-struck realization that you might be calling him cute by extension since you're so insistent about the similarities.

"It..." he clears his throat, losing composure with the second-hand praises. "I suppose."

"You suppose?" You laugh, finally turning your eyes back to him. He almost melts into a puddle right then and there. "You're not jealous, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he immediately refutes, rosy all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Jealous," you insist with a smile, setting the otter back down into the water. It leaves a shell as a parting gift and disappears into the sea.

"I am not jealous." Neuvillette bends down to pick up the shell, unceremoniously shoving it into your hands. You know you've got him then, with his sudden lack of manners.

The Iudex can't be jealous. Especially not over something so silly. But his face is a mortifying shade of pink, both at your passive comments about his similarities to such an adorable creature and your accusations of envy.

Your free hand suddenly lurches forward and grabs him by the face, effectively holding him in place while he falls apart. There's a pretty softness in your expression as you look at him.

"Cute," you tease, and he's melting all over again.

(Neuvillette flops down on the couch that night, face down in your lap. You raise a brow, setting your book down to peer at him curiously.

He's unmoving for a pause, completely still to the point where you wonder if he just instantly fell asleep. But then he shuffles, turning onto his back to look up at you.

Ah, there it is. Something akin to puppy-dog eyes underneath his stone cold expression.

Your fingers scratch gently at his scalp as you continue to read, combing through his long hair. "Knew it," you muse with a smug expression.

He grumbles with red cheeks.)

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[kaciidubs]

Walking in on Roommate! Chan | Pt. 2

❣ Summary: A lot can change in a month, but was it truly a change, or simply a realization? ❣  �� Word Count: 7.41k ❣ Warnings: Non!Idol AU, Roommate! Chris, fluff, smut, slice of life, slight humor, friends to lovers, slight! dom Chris, Dom/Sub dynamics, smut with feelings, sir/daddy kink ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Sir, and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Good/Pretty Girl, and Princess, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Pt. 1

It had been a month since the incident, and though you thought things had gone unchanged between you and Chris, your reality couldn't have been more wrong.

You seemed to linger more on every interaction with him, your brain working double time to process things he'd say or do as of they had a deeper meaning behind them - which they didn't.

He always left you little notes whenever he'd go out with Changbin for an early gym session, so why were you smiling at the hastily written messages and cutely drawn dragon-worm signature?

He always texted you on your break at work to remind you of any plans he made, so why did your heart flutter every time his contact popped up?

He always made sure your favorite snacks were in the pantry, and if you were running out he'd stock them up before you had the chance to add them on your grocery list, so why did you swoon every time your favorite bag of chips was sat on the kitchen counter?

There was no way your world flipped itself upside down over one incident, absolutely no way...

Unless.

"I'm screwed." You groaned woefully, dropping your head to the table in front of you.

Jeongin laughed, taking a piece of meat from your plate, "I told you to stop laughing at that guy's terrible jokes, now look at you!"

"What?"

"Jongsoo, the coworker you kept saying was trying to flirt with you but couldn't catch a hint?" Felix mused, tilting his head slightly, "Isn't that what we're here to talk about? 'Level three red alert', and all?"

"What? No, no," sitting up, you leveled him with a soft stare, "if this was about him, I would've picked a bar - he doesn't deserve the glory of being talked about over barbecue."

"Okay, so why are we here?" Minho huffed as he flipped a strip of beef on the tabletop grill, "Actually, better question, why am I here? Last I checked I never signed up to this whole 'red alert' code talk."

"Hyung, the last time we shared tea that you didn't know about, you ignored me and Felix for a week for 'leaving you out'." Jeongin spoke pointedly, recalling the way he practically cursed them out for 'disrespecting your elders'.

The former groaned, rolling his eyes, "Why didn't you just say you needed to shit talk someone?! Why are we speaking in code?"

"Because one of our friends has a big mouth, the other one forgets a secret is a secret the second you finish talking to him, another one likes sharing gossip online through subs and secret callout posts, one couldn't even buy a fuck to give about any gossip, and the final one... he's not allowed, he knows too much as it is already." You listed simply before taking a sip of your drink, "The group we have right now is formed out of the strongest tea holders, understand?"

"Anyways," Felix snapped you back into business, "what's happening? Why are you screwed?"

Steeling your nerves, you mentally prepared yourself for the word that were about to come out of your mouth.

"I might have a crush on someone..."

"I knew it." Minho announced smugly, taking another piece of perfectly cooked beef from the grill top.

"What?! There's no way you knew anything about this, Hyung!" Jeongin argued, sitting up in his seat next to you, "You don't even like people! How are you suddenly an insider?"

"Look at her!" He pointed the tongs in your direction, to which you tilted your head in confusion, "The past few days she's been watching her phone like a hawk whenever we all go out, she's been way too happy, and she spaces out more than usual-"

"Okay, that part could just be because of Lix's pot brownies!"

"Hey, hey, hey - ex-nay on the pot brownies-ay, okay? The whole world doesn't need to know - I only do it cause people ask me to!" The blond gritted out, pointing his fork in the direction of the youngest as a threat.

"Yeah, sure, next you're gonna say you only model for Hyunjin because he 'asks you to'."

"You little-"

"Hey!" The eldest of the boys snapped the tongs three times, effectively quieting them, "Shut up! We're here to get information, not talk about Felix's entrepreneur business, got it?" He pointed the utensil toward you yet again, "Talk. Now."

"Well- Uh... I don't know, it's not like I wanted it to happen, I was completely fine as friends with this person but then..." Shrugging your shoulders, you felt the events of the past month play back in your head, "I guess things just changed one day? Like, suddenly I could see them in this new light and now every time he does something so stupidly normal I find myself wanting to kiss him until I can't breathe."

"Ugh, that's both disgusting and cute - why did we have to talk about this over barbecue?" Jeongin whined before stuffing his face with a lettuce wrap. "Whosh th' lucky guy?"

"You really think I'm gonna reveal-"

"I swear to god, please don't say it's your coworker," Felix pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes, "you can do so much better than him - you don't have to do the charity work, I promise you."

"Lee Felix-"

"I know your heart's in the right place, but you don't have to cater to him, please."

"Would you please-"

"40 bucks says it's Chan." Minho hummed through a bite of his bulgogi.

The youngest nearly choked on his drink, swallowing a hefty gulp before coughing, "That's such a bad take! Chan Hyung? The man with negative rizz? The man who stays up long enough to say good night and good morning?"

"You say that like it's impossible!" The freckled blond argued, "It happens all the time in sitcoms!"

"Lix, please, I'd rather you not compare my life to a sitcom, I have enough happening for two seasons and a reunion episode as it is." You groaned, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh, "Can we just move on from the confession and talk about the movie night? I don't think my brain can handle the topic of my non-existent love life much longer."

Through a silent agreement, Minho ordered another round of food and the four of you continued onto much lighter - yet somehow more argument filled, conversation.

The coveted movie night was a monthly event that originally started with you and your friends, using the time Chris would be working late to have a movie marathon loaded with snacks, drinks, and cozy pajamas. It wasn't until Changbin caught word of the activity that the small gathering turned into a merged group affair; it was even enough to convince Chris to take time off to join in on the fun.

In the whirlwind of work and the existential crisis of realizing your crush, you'd completely forgotten that the event would be taking place tonight.

Funny, how fast time flies when your world is in shambles.

"Alright, that's all the blankets and pillows from the closet." Chris huffed, stepping back with his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork; the large couch draped with various blankets and piled high with pillows that were sure to be rearranged in less than a minute of everyone's arrival.

You snuck a glance from your spot in the kitchen, a soft smile growing from his look of personal accomplishment. "Looks great, hopefully we won't have Han and Hyunjin fighting over who gets what pillow again."

He snorted out a laugh, heading over to you, "You think so? Those two could fight over who gets the last chip with an unopened bag right next to them - it's happened before!" Leaning his hip against the island, his eyes glanced over the various snacks covering the surface, "D'you need me to help with anything?"

"Um- Yeah, actually, can you get me the bowls from the cabinet? We can open the chips now, it's almost time for everyone to show up." You turned to look at the stove's clock; 7:33 PM, a little less than half an hour until your shared apartment would be filled with a sea of people.

Chris hummed, pushing himself away from the countertop, and you found your eyes drawn to his frame; a black tank top - sleeveless by his own doing - showing off the subtle build of his biceps, and a matching pair of black shorts you'd seen time and time again.

It was his staple look, simple, perfectly cozy for the impending activities, yet somehow you still felt your heartbeat racing the longer you stared.

Yes, you knew he was attractive, your friends gawked about it for weeks since you first moved in with him, but when was he this attractive?

"The big bowls, yeah?"

Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you nodded, even with his back still turned to you. "Mhm, those are perfect!"

You were in, deep.

You turned your attention back to preparing the chips, opening a bag and sneaking one of the plain potato chips when you felt a hand at the small of your back - the stack of bowls sliding onto the counter a second later.

"Here you go."

This was normal, it was normal for him and his affinity for physical touch, but you still felt a rush of electricity shoot up your spine from his touch - your body freezing as you registered just how close he was behind you.

"Ah- Thanks, Channie!"

Normal. So very, very normal.

"You need anything else?"

Lifting your gaze from the snacks in front of you, your eyes immediately found his; warm and kind, a shade of brown you caught yourself daydreaming of time and time again - distracting enough for you not to realize the mere inches between your faces.

He smelled like mahogany and lavender, a faint musk of the cologne he always wore tinted with your laundry detergent he claimed made his clothes feel softer.

"I, um..." His stare was hypnotizing, sending every productive thought in your brain out the window, "I-"

The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he stepped back.

"That might be Han, he said he'd be coming a bit earlier."

"Yeah, no, that's fine - can you finish opening these when you get back? I'm gonna go get changed."

Chris hummed out a short "Yeah" before heading toward the front door, leaving you to collect yourself amongst the colorful serving bowls.

This was going to be a long night.

It wasn't long before everyone showed up; comfort clothes on and ready for the night's movie queue and rounds of snacks.

The seating arrangements remained in their usual layout with the mix of your friends between the couch or the floor, while you somehow always found yourself tucked between Chris and and the corner of the couch - arguably, the best part of any couch in your opinion.

This time, however, the arrangement was met with knowing side eye glances from your half of the friend group, a few of your girls sharing barely hidden smirks and whispers.

Before you could throw a pillow as a warning sign, a blanket of polyester blocked your vision and filled your nose with an all too familiar scent.

"Here," Chris hummed softly, rounding the edge of the couch to take his place next to you, "in case you get cold."

"Aw, you thought of me?" You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours as you unfolded his blanket and draped it across your legs.

"I always think of you."

His words made you freeze, your heart stuck in a limbo of floating to your throat or falling to the pit of your stomach while he carried on with the rest of the group.

I always think of you.

Always.

The revelation had the gears in your head working double time, the events of the past month playing like a movie in your mind - akin to the one currently starting on the TV in front of you.

He always thought of you, his caring nature shown in so many ways besides the ones you grew used to while living under the same roof; if you were running late coming home, you'd always have a text making sure you were safe - or, when you had important dates in your schedule, he'd be the one to remind you when they were a few days away.

Chris always did little things to show that you were on his mind, he always made it clear that you were important to him, that he cared about you as much as he did his friends.

But maybe... Maybe there was more behind it.

Your fingers glided along the blanket covering your lap, the fabric soft and welcoming like the hug of a close friend.

I always think of you.

It was like the three movies passed in the span of seconds, some of your shared friends tapping out after the second film, while the stragglers and self proclaimed cleanup crew stuck around to take in a cheesy family comedy of a man taking his family on a wild vacation.

"Min, you don't have to do that, you know," you chastized the black haired man as he washed the empty chip bowls, "I would've gotten to it in the morning!"

He scoffed out a chuckle, throwing you a knowing side eye, "Yeah, says the person who told me how much she hates the dishes with a passion stronger than Han's coffee addiction."

Deciding to protect your pride - knowing full and well he was completely correct - you wandered back into the living room where Felix and Jisung were folding one of the blankets, while Jeongin rearranged the pillows and Changbin gathered any missed trash lying around.

Felix shot you a sleepy smile, nodding his head toward the stack of folded blankets, "D'you want us to put these back in the closet?"

"No, you guys have done more than enough, seriously! I'll put them away, don't worry."

"What about this one?" Jisung held up the navy blanket you were using, Chris' navy blanket. "Want it folded? Are you still using it?"

"It's actually Chris's, I'll give it back to him."

Said man slipped away to his bedroom in the middle of the third movie, mentioning something about double checking some files for work before wishing you all a good night.

Humming in acceptance, the remaining boys gathered their belongings and headed toward the door, giving each of them a hug and making them swear to text when they each made it home safely.

Minho gave you a soft smile, though a certain glint in his eyes raised warning sign in your head, "Have a good night." He hummed with an air of mischief, slipping through the door before you had even a second to question him.

Frowning at the wood, you clicked the lock into place before gathering everything you needed to close off the living room for the night; tucking the navy blanket under your arm while balancing the other blankets in your hand. You stuffed them back into their bin in the hallway closet with ease, sliding the door shut and making your way toward your last stop of the night.

The sound of your knuckles against the door echoed through the empty hall, "Channie, you up?"

"Yeah, you can come in!"

Turning the knob, you were bathed in a soft purple light from his LED's, walking into the cozy atmosphere to see him laying on his bed with his phone in hand, "Hi."

He smiled, dropping his phone to the side as he sat up, "Hey, you - is everyone gone?"

"Yep, they helped clean up as usual, I'm just here to return this," you held up the blanket, stopping just short of the side of his bed, "thanks for letting me borrow it."

"You know, you can keep using it if you want, it's not like I won't know where it is."

Rolling your eyes, you held it out to him, "Chris, you and I both know I don't need anymore blankets in my room."

"What if you get cold?" He grinned, challenging you with glittering eyes.

"Then I'll use one of my blankets!" You laughed at his cheekiness, tossing the blanket in his direction just for him to catch it before it covered his face.

The room filled with your combined giggles, warmth settling over you as you watched him unceremoniously ball the blanket up and toss it toward his computer chair.

Just as you were about to announce your leave, your mind seemed to have a mission of its own the minute you opened your mouth.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, always - what's up?"

Always - god, was he trying to drive you crazy on purpose?

You needed clarity, something to confirm that you were seeing things that weren't truly there - making a purpose out of words that were simply meant from one roommate to another, one best friend to another.

"So... About what you said in the living room, when you said you always think of me..." You dropped your gaze from his, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to you, "Did... Did you mean it?"

"Of course I meant it, you're one of my best friends - I think about you all the time!" The smile he gave you was genuine, warm, filled with so much truth that it made your heart skip a beat.

Steeling your nerves, you looked up at him with a firm stare, "All the time?"

"Yes...? I mean, I think about other people and things too, but for the most part you've always been there... Why are you asking-"

"Did you think about me last month?"

His smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he searched your face for a hint of an answer. "What are you talking about?"

"Chris, did you think about me last month - when I walked into your room and I saw you-" Taking a sharp breath, you calming yourself before looking at him with pleading eyes, "Did you think of me?"

The silence was thick, the sound of your own heart filling your ears - you were certain it would beat right out of your chest and run out of the room to save you from this conversation.

"Would..." He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he picked at the sheets underneath him, "Would it be weird if I said yes?"

Your stomach flipped, your knees threatening to buckle and send you straight to the floor but you stood strong. "Would it be weird if I said I wanted you to?"

His head snapped back up and he stared at you with a look crossed between shock and awe, "Are you serious?"

"Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." The confession took you by storm, though you couldn't find it in yourself to stop talking, "And it's not just from that night - well, some of it is, but since then it's like... enhanced? Like, every little thing you do just lingers and sometimes I think I'm just going crazy because it's not like you've done anything new - it's just you, yet my heart feels like it'll explode after every text you send, or whenever we're in the same room, and I-"

The sound of your name from his lips stopped your panicked ramble, though the look he gave you did little to calm your racing heart.

"Come here."

Offering his hand, you cautiously accepted it and let him guide you onto his bed, straddling his lap at his instance while trying not to completely evaporate from the close proximity.

"Honestly, this isn't how I thought I'd end up confessing, but I guess there's a lot about us that isn't traditional," he chuckled to himself, his hands naturally finding their home on your hips, just below the waistband of your pajama shorts. "First, I want you to know that I think about you no matter what - you're always somewhere in my mind and at first I thought it was because you're my roommate, someone I care about just like everyone else in my life. But, recently things have been changing and I..." Taking a deep breath, his eyes found yours, a firm, yet comforting gaze holding you captive in those brown irises, "I have feelings for you- I like you, more than just a roommate or a best friend, and I didn't want to ruin things between us if you didn't feel the same w-"

You cut him off with your lips against his, swallowing the rest of his sentence with a small hum of delight - soft with a hint of cherry chapstick.

He melted almost immediately, tugging you closer as a hand slid up your back to keep you pressed against his body - almost as if he allowed anymore space between you, you'd somehow disappear into his dreams.

When you went to pull away, he followed like a desperate puppy and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Just so you know, that kiss means I definitely feel the same way."

Chris huffed out a giggle, narrowing his eyes playfully, "No, really? I would've never guessed!"

"Well, I know for a fact you also feel the same way." The lilt in your voice was teasing, making a show of rolling your hips against the mass that was quickly making itself known between your legs.

Biting his lip, he leveled you with a firm gaze, daring, "Don't start something you can't finish, baby."

The pet name made your heart flutter, and you tilted your head up in defiance, "What makes you think I don't wanna finish it, hm?" Grinding your hips yet again, you were able to work out a low groan from those wonderfully kissable lips, "I can finish it, Channie, just show me how."

Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in another mind melting kiss that had you letting out a shivering moan against his mouth as you tried matching his ferocity.

"You," he panted, nipping your bottom lip, "are gonna be the death of me, you little minx."

He kissed his way down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots he miraculously had no trouble in finding, leaving you wondering how much he truly knew about you to discover this information.

However, all of your critical thinking skills flew out the window when he sucked at a spot just underneath your jaw, turning you into a whining mess that only craved him and him alone.

Tilting your head to the side to grant him more room, you simultaneously tugged at his shirt - almost offended that he decided tonight of all nights to wear one in the privacy of his own room.

"Off, Chris."

He pulled himself away from the paradise that was your skin, gazing at you with simmering eyes, "Say please?"

Pouting, you pulled at the offending cotton once more, "Chris-"

His hands immediately found your wrists, tugging them gently behind your back as he tilted his head, fixing you with a tsk of disapproval. "Use your manners, princess, you know how this goes."

Your body temperature spiked, flashes of him saying the same fated words as a tease just to get you to beg for him before he inevitably gave you what you wanted, playing back like a film reel.

You know how this goes.

Swallowing down the demand threatening to bubble up, you relaxed in his hold and softened your undoubtedly needy gaze, "Please, Chris? Can you take your shirt off, for me?"

The smirk that stretched his lips had your stomach doing flips, the mere glimpse of the cocky energy he had inside of him making your mouth water and your pussy flutter with need.

"That's my girl."

He let go of your wrists to hike the hem of his shirt into his hands, before tugging it up and off with the coveted crossed-arm maneuver that he never failed to use as his prized flirting trick - and, god, was it a good trick.

Despite having seen him shirtless countless times, seeing him shirtless up close had your brain melting.

"Remind me to thank Changbin for keeping you in check with his gym routine."

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, could we maybe not talk about our other friends while I have you in my lap?"

Barely holding back your laughter, you nodded and slipped your own pajama shirt off in one go as a peace offering, tossing it to the floor where his currently laid. "Yes, sir - won't happen again." When he went rigid underneath you, you arched an eyebrow, "Oh? We have a sir kink, do we?"

Before you could tease him any further, he surged forward and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, passion fueled and determined as his warm hands found the new, uncharted territory of your back.

"You're playing with fire, princess." His tone was firm, laced with warning as he nipped at your plump bottom lip, "You really think you can handle it?"

The tantalizing threat of a challenge had your heart skipping a beat; you'd seen him get into one of these moods before, asking an open ended question that he already know the answer to, and playing that game now held too many promising rewards in the end.

Preparing yourself for the next words coming out of your mouth, you gave him an innocent smile, "I know I can handle it, sir."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back, graciously earning you the split second of weightlessness before you were pinned on your back with every sense of yours surrounded by Chris; the feeling of his soft, cool sheets against your back, the smell of him ingrained into the cotton threading, and the heart stopping sight of him hovering above you bathed in that soft purple glow.

"Tell me you want this." His eyes locked onto your own, brown irises filled with caution and hope, "If you want me to stop, I'll stop, and we can pretend we never let it get this far, I promise."

"I want this- God, I need this, I need you, Chris - keep going, please."

With your consent given, his fingers danced up your thighs and over the cotton shorts you wore - a matching set to the shirt that was long forgotten - before dipping past the elastic waistband to drag them back down the expanse of your thighs.

They were unceremoniously tossed to the ground with the ever growing pile of clothes, and when he turned to give your panties the same, eventual treatment, his jaw nearly dislocated from the rate it dropped at; a bright blush turning his ears and neck red.

"Holy shit- I-I mean, fuck- Please... Please tell me you planned this"

You were now laid in his bed fully nude, which meant you weren't wearing panties for as long as the movie night went on, and that thought alone had his dick painfully straining against his own shorts.

Shaking your head, you timidly knocked your knees together, bristling at the exposure of cold air against your pussy, "I, um... I really wish I could say I planned it, but I didn't." Blinking up at the ceiling, a sheepish laugh shook your shoulders, "It's more comfortable sleeping without them, you know?"

Of course, you knew he knew from a few fated encounters with him early in the mornings, courtesy of wandering eyes and a not-so-small situation he tried keeping tucked away - it seemed that between the two of you, underwear was a foreign concept in the privacy of your shared apartment.

Chris groaned, a low, aching sound that begged for mercy to be taken on him, "You're absolutely going to be the death of me, there's no way you're real right now - this has to be a dream." Resting his hands on your knees, he silently waited for your hum of permission before pulling them apart, following the angle of your thighs down to catch his first glimpse of your pussy. "Fuck, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up."

"Chris."

Your insistent whine didn't fall on deaf ears as he wasted no time in scooting down his bed and ducking his head between your legs; plump lips peppering wet kisses along your soft skin, from the inside of your knee down to the highest point of your inner thigh, before skipping entirely over your cunt to repeat the process to your other leg.

Each caress of his lips sent chills up your spine, sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves and powering the growing desire within the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, you wouldn't have to suffer much longer as his second trip down ended with the warm sensation of his tongue swiping through your lower lips with a careful curiosity.

A sound crossed between a sigh and a moan floated through him before his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs and he all but dove his head toward your pussy; lapping messily at the arousal dripping from you while aiming to explore your fluttering walls.

"Oh, shit-" Hands flying to his hair, you gripped at the roots as shock tinted pleasure shot through you, "Oh my god, Chris- Oh, god!"

The only sounds coming from him were muffled moans and lewd slurps, the only instances of his mouth leaving your pussy being him shifting his head up to focus his devilish tongue along your clit, and him pulling away for mere seconds of air before getting back to work.

He was eating you out like a man starved, and all you could do was lay there and take it with wanton moans and whines of his name.

"Chris, baby," you panted breathlessly, fingers tugging at his roots in hopes of gaining his attention, "baby, w-wait-" Pulling a bit harder, you were met with a groan of pleasure, sending your back into a small arch as the vibrations flowed through you.

With a small gasp of air, he pulled away just enough for you to catch the shine of your arousal coating the tip of his nose and lips, pupils blown with a fog of desire that made your mouth run dry.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? D'you wanna stop?"

"No, no, you're amazing - if we stopped now I might actually die," giving him a reassuring smile, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, "but as wonderful as your tongue is, I'd rather come on your dick first."

"Fuck." Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, he sat up with a groan, "We're going to have to do something about that mouth of yours."

Blinking up at him with faux innocent eyes, you tilted your head, "I'm just telling the truth, sir."

He smirked at the pout set on your lips, leaning over you to nip gently at the flesh, "That's fine, I just wonder what else it can do." Sweeping you into a feather light kiss, he murmured softly, "You'll show me later, though, won't you, princess?"

Your pussy fluttered, clenching around nothing as you nodded without hesitation - only focused on getting those pretty lips, tinted with the taste of your arousal, back on your own.

"Good girl."

Chris pulled back, laughing at your whine of disdain while his hands got to work sliding down his black shorts with ease, shifting to get them fully off and added as the final item to the pile on the floor.

In the midst of all of his moving, you were able to catch a glimpse of just exactly what he was packing and your jaw dropped - the accidental peek you'd seen a month ago barely comparing to the full on staring contest you were having now.

He was big, bigger than most you'd had before in almost every way, and you nearly began to consider if it would even fit; your gaze trailing up the slight curve it held, mouth watering at a prominent vein running along the side.

"I'll go slow."

Your gaze snapped back up to meet his own, the previously cocky aura he held now warm and comforting, and your - admittedly needless - worries subsided.

"And I meant what I said earlier," reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled open a small drawer to take out a small, obvious box, "if you want me to stop, just say so."

Leaning up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a foil packet, "Do you know about safewords?"

"Yeah," bringing his full attention back to you, he tilted his head, "d'you have one?"

"Pear, for a hard stop, or the light system if it's easier for you to work with."

Scoffing out a laugh, he shook his head, "Whichever works for you, baby - I'll remember."

As you laid yourself back onto his bed, he made work of ripping open the condom packet, taking out the rubber and sliding it on with careful, yet experienced ease.

"Y'know, I never thought someone could look hot while putting on a condom, but I don't mind being proven wrong." When he ducked his head in embarrassment, a familiar sheepish blush beginning to turn his ears red, you giggled at your small achievement.

"It's our first time together, I didn't want to just assume that... you know." Growing past his shyness, Chris settled himself between your legs once more, one hand holding the back of your knee while the other wrapped around the base of his cock - a shiver of brief relief running down his spine. "Ready?"

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "Ready."

Dropping his gaze, he leaned forward to press the covered head of his dick against your glistening entrance, biting his lip at the warmth emanating through before pushing onward - working the tip past your walls slowly.

The increasing stretch had a low moan escaping you, each inch introducing a new wave of pain tinted pleasure that shot from the top of your head to your toes. "Fuck, Chris."

He wasn't faring any better on his end, the lack of attention given to his dick since you first sat in his lap had him beyond sensitive and holding fast to his promise like a lifeline - go slow, go slow.

"Relax for me, baby," he gritted out, shivering as your walls clenched around the half of his length he managed to sink in, "just a little more, okay? Just need you to let me in."

"'M trying - you're so big." You couldn't find yourself to care about the desperate whine that took your voice, not when you were being deliciously filled with more to come.

Abandoning his hold on your thigh, he licked the pad of his thumb before bringing it to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of helping you relax further - and it worked. He was able to slowly sheath the rest of his dick inside of you, breathing a sigh of relief, while you shivered underneath him, canting your hips against the consistent flicks of his thumb against your sensitive nub.

"M-Move- Oh god, please move, Channie."

"Are you sure you're ready for that? I can wait-"

"Channie," looking up at him, you tried your best to give him a firm stare through the mind fogging lust, "I need you to fuck me; the color's green, it's so green, I promise - please, just fuck me already!"

He took his thumb off of your clit in favor of holding onto your hip instead, hovering over your body and keeping himself balanced with his left hand.

Licking his lips, his eyes searched your face for any signs of doubt, but he was simply met with desire and need. "Okay, only because you said please."

A smile lit up your face, and just as you went to give him a teasing reply, your body jolted forward and a surprised moan shot past your lips instead.

Another sharp thrust rocked your body and your hands scrambled to find purchase on his broad shoulders, latching onto him to take every quick, deep thrust he delivered before he fell into a regular pace of thorough strokes that had you seeing stars.

Chris watched every subtle shift in your expression after each thrust, drinking in the cute pinch of your eyebrows and pout of your lips while the sounds of your moans created a symphony in his head.

"Beautiful," he murmured, shifting his knees to allow him to drive deeper into your dripping cunt, "my pretty girl, taking me like you're fucking made for me."

The shift in his hips led you to lift your own, and the resulting graze of his cock against your g-spot had a near pornographic moan leaving you - neighbors be damned.

Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he made a mental note to keep that angle as long as he could. "There it is - Fuck, look at you."

Your nails scratched down his shoulder blades, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the man above you, yet he continued on without hesitation.

"I wish I told you sooner," stifling a grunt, he switched up the pace with slow, shallow rolls of his hips, "could've had this pussy wrapped around me every fucking night."

A helpless whine vibrated through you, but the following moan was something neither you or him was prepared for.

"Daddy!"

There was a brief pause, not even lasting a full minute though it was glaringly obvious to you - even in your blissed out haze. Blinking up at him with worried eyes, you were ready to apologize for the mortifying slip up until you realized he wasn't looking down at you in disgust - but, rather, unrestrained lust.

"Daddy, hm? Is that what my pretty baby wants?" Sliding his hand down your thigh, he maneuvered to hook your leg in the crook of his arm and bring it up higher, evidently opening you up more. "I don't mind, it's fitting - you don't need sir right now anyways, isn't that right, princess? So," rutting his hips into yours, a cocky smirk curved his lips, "keep being a good girl and tell daddy just how good he's making you feel."

You could've died right then and there and considered it a fulfilling life; pinned underneath your best friend, your roommate, fucked within an inch of your sanity while he murmurs the dirtiest sentences you ever imagined from those glorious lips of his.

"O-Oh, god- P-Please, daddy-"

"Please, what, baby? I love hearing you beg, but you have to tell me what you want."

He knew what you wanted, he could feel it with each pulse of your cunt, the way your leg tensed in his hold while your body writhed underneath him - you were close, and he wanted to see just how far he could push you.

"I-I want- Fuck-" You squeezed the flexed muscle of his bicep, while your free hand fisted the pillowcase underneath your head, trying your best to gather the brain cells to make a comprehensible sentence through his unrelenting pace. "I wanna come- wanna come for you," blinking up at him with glossy eyes, you submitted instantly, "please, daddy, can I?"

Chris' pace faltered for the smallest of seconds, his heart swelling and his dick aching for the release he'd been fighting back since he entered your warm pussy - there was no use in stalling for more time, not when you needed him as much as he needed you.

"Hold it for just a little longer, princess." When you gave a displeased whine, he leaned down to kiss the pout off of your face, "It won't be long, I promise - ten seconds, you can count with me, yeah?"

Nodding desperately, you snuck another kiss from him before waiting for his next instruction, trying your best to suppress your lingering orgasm.

"Good girl - now, can you use your fingers to play with your clit for me? You can keep holding onto me, just use your free hand."

You followed his directions diligently, quickly licking your index finger before managing to work your arm between your bodies and finding your puffy clit with ease; the lightest touch sending a shock of pleasure through your system.

"'S too much, I-I can't-"

He shushed you, "You can, I know you can, just count with me, okay? Focus on me, baby - starting from ten."

Swallowing back a whine, you took a shivering breath, "T-Ten."

"Good, keep counting."

As your slow, broken countdown continued, he took the time to adjust his position one final time; sitting up straight and using his left hand to gather your leg in the same position as your right, holding you spread open and fully subject to his will.

"Seven... S-Six- Oh my god-" Your eyes rolled, your body feeling like fire was liking at each of your limbs as you rubbed quick circles around your clit.

"Don't stop counting, princess," Chris grunted, licking his lips as sweat beaded along his forehead, "come on, five."

A short sob broke past your lips, eyebrows pinching together, "I c-can't- I can't, daddy!"

"Four." He continued on, angling your legs slightly higher and focusing on the almost hypnotizing wet slapping sound of your pussy all but drenching his cock and the sheets underneath. "Three - almost there, baby, keep holding it for me."

You made a noise, not caring what it sounded like as long as it was known that you were still hanging in there, if only by a thread.

"T-Two - my perfect girl, doing so well for daddy, s-so fucking proud of you," he gritted out, breaths coming in bated pants as he exchanged the speed of this thrusts for more power, watching your back arch off of the bed in the process. "One - come, come for me, baby."

Your body followed through before your mind had the chance to comprehend his words, white-hot pleasure flooding through your veins as you came with a cry of his name - at least, you hoped the sound that came out resembled his name.

Chris groaned, doing his best to fuck you through your orgasm until he came with a shivering gasp, almost pained, high pitched whines falling from his lips with each wave; his dick quickly being surrounded by the warmth of his cum filling the latex.

Hours could've passed before you were able to come back to your senses, blinking your eyes open and dazedly looking at the man above you.

Even after sending you to the moon and back, he looked as breathtaking as ever; chest heaving and head tossed back, large hands now caressing your thighs as your feet met the mattress once more.

"Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, lifting his head to look at you with glittering eyes, "You okay? That- I didn't go too far, did I?"

Oh, he was going to be the death of you.

Shooting him a tired smile, you shook your head, "I'm more than okay - that was amazing, daddy."

You didn't miss the way his dick twitched inside of you from your words, his hands squeezing you softly.

"Princess, as much as I love hearing you say that, I might end up fucking you through the mattress if you keep it up."

Biting your lip, you not-so-subtly glanced at the open box on his nightstand before looking at him with daring eyes, "If I call you my boyfriend, can you fuck me into the next morning?"

He paused as if heavily pondering your words, then slowly pulled out of your sensitive walls with a grunt, "If you let me call you my girlfriend and let me take you on a date, you can call me both and I'll fuck you until you can't walk."

A bright smile found its way to your face and you nodded happily, "Deal, boyfriend."

With a grin as bright as the sun, he made quick work of taking off the used condom before tying it and tossing it in the small trash near his nightstand; returning to hover over you with warm eyes, "Deal, girlfriend."

Safe to say, he upheld his end of the deal with flying colors, and you planned the date as soon as you regained the ability to walk a day later.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies for Pt. 2 [If you want to be added to my official tag list please fill out the form below]: @turtledove824, @boi-bi-ahaha, @skzworlddomination44, @brojustfknkillm3

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[domjaehyun]

the boy is mine (l.dh) — part two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For me. It’s not like that for me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So much for that.” Chenle groans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffs. “Do you?”

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

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

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

“You know damn well what I mean.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i want it but this ain’t the right time

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

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

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

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

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

ooh, i gotta decline

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

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

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

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

“You’re letting me.”

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

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

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

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

—or making flirtatious remarks—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—or just being an overall flirt.

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

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

“And?”

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

“But you’re in here.” he points out.

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

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

You blink at him. “Doing what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your mouth feels dry. “The eyes?”

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah?” Jeno asks, and you nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, brother,” Haechan groans.

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

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

“Hey!” Jeno squawks indignantly.

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

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

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

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

“Of what? His long back?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan’s a brat, just ignore him—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was going to.”

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

“Great.”

“Wonderful.” 

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

“Synonyms.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bite back a giggle. “Precisely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Making sure you’re doing your job?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?” you ask curiously.

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

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

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

“Am I?”

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d rather watch you.”

“Haechan.”

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

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

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

“You are so—”

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

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

“So what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan, go!”

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

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

He really is dangerous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

haechanahceah liked your story.

haechanahceah: what’d you get 👀

you: it’s a secret 😌

haechanahceah: gatekeeping is no fun :(

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

you: what are you even doing up sir

haechanahceah: can’t sleep :(

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

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

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

you: …don’t make me lose my appetite.

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

you: hmmmmmmm i might know of a place

haechanahceah: oh yeah?

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

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

you: maybe  🧌

haechanahceah: say less i’m omw right now

you: i’ll see you soon then i suppose

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sound so eager.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you just pay for my food?”

“Sure did.” he confirms, nodding proudly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was not pouting.”

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

You fix your face. “Tempting you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?! How?!”

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

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

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

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

“You’d better not.” you warn him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

haechan [22:37] hi :)

you [22:38] hi?

haechan [22:38] wyd

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

“We should definitely watch The Incredible Hulk!”

“Owie—”

“Or Venom…” she gasps eagerly.

“Yeowch—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

haechan [22:41] oh fun

haechan [22:41] where’s my invite :/

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you [22:45] winter is here

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

you [22:46] WOW.

you [22:46] that’s sick actually

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

“Something to say?”

You blanch. “No, ma’am.”

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

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

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

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

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

haechan [22:51] never say never baby

you disliked “never say never baby”

you [22:52] okay justin bieber

haechan [22:52] king

you [22:53] um. sure

you [22:53] :/

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

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

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

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

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

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

haechan [22:58] HE WAS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING

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

haechan [22:59] what are you watching?

you [23:00] venom :3

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

haechan [23:01] he scares her!

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

you [23:04] chaewon’s gonna hold her

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

haechan [23:04] me right

haechan [23:04] great im omw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you [23:09] HE’S NOT EVEN HUMAN?

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

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

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

haechan [23:14] maybe you should

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

haechan [23:17] both 😁

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

haechan [23:20] fiiiiine

haechan [23:24] what are you wearing?

you disliked “what are you wearing?”

you [23:26] HAECHAN.

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

you [23:28] 😒 not cute or funny

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

you [23:30] not like that you can’t!!

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

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

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

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

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

you [23:39] in lust**

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

haechan [23:42] get a room 🤮

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

haechan [23:44] venom is one lucky bastard

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

haechan [23:45] YES.

you [23:46] awwww

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t remind me,” she grouches. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is not!” you huff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No?” you say in unison.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Tell me!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, Chae.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry… what?” you ask slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Now why would he—?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“What if I don’t give up easily?”

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

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

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

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

“You’re on.”

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

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

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

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

you [23:17] wya

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

haechan [23:17] by the bathroom

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

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

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

As subtly as possible, you text him back.

you [23:22] heading to kitchen

haechan [23:23] wait for me there

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me one good reason not to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re giving me bedroom eyes!”

“That’s literally just my natural expression!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Haechan.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mad-hunts]

have i ever talked about how barton is genuinely jealous of people who seem happy because he feels so hollow a majority of the time that even when he's 'happy,' he's not really happy? because i just 😭 yeah...

[deepestnightcolor]

☾ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: I am already back with a new fic for Sam. I am in a groupchat with some amazing people and I decided to write some ideas out that were thrown around. I hope you enjoy! Maybe I will do Alex or Elliott next... Anyway, thank you so much for your time! ✧

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 3884 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: alcohol consumption, drunk sex, doggy style, cursing, unportected sex, drooling, exhibitionism, public setting, teasing, creampie, hornyness all around.

Sam’s mouth was watering, and the sole reason for it was you. Sam had fallen in love with you the moment you had stepped foot into Pelican Town yet had never managed to utter a single word about it. But now, the blonde was absolutely hammered, and that allowed him to shamelessly stare at you. Pupils blown, chest heaving and falling quickly, his eyes were focused on your ass while you were bent over the pool table, focused on your next shot in your game with Sebastian. The only thing that kept him from dropping on his knees and begging to be allowed to suck on those slender fingers wrapping around the cue was the fact that he still wasn’t sure if you liked him back.

When you wiggled your butt a little, a small groan passed his lips. It was desperate, and rough, making the attention of the room fall on him. “Are you okay, Sam?” You asked, worry in your voice. “Yeah…yeah…Yeah, ‘m fine… just gonn…you need help, dontcha? Winnin’ against Seb, I mean,” he slurred, pushing himself up on his legs, steadying himself using the pool table. Sebastian cocked his pierced brow; Sam sucked at pool when he wasn’t drunk, and now he was absolutely shitfaced. What help could he be?

Sam placed himself right behind you, pressing his crotch against you a bit, hoping – no, praying – that you didn’t catch on that he only did that to feel you against his growing buldge.

Though you were a smart girl. The feeling of his erection didn’t go unnoticed, but you kept up your pokerface. “I guess I could use a little help,” you murmured, voice coated in innocence. You leaned forward, smiling up at the oblivious Sebastian. “Sorry, I told you I haven’t played in ages,” you explained, directing the black-haired man’s attention back to the game. He shrugged nonchalantly, waving off your comment and watching you adjust the cue, but Sam had seemingly become hyper focused. He leaned over you, shaking hand gripping your wrist. He was so close, so close to you. He could smell you and feel you. If his mouth was watering before, now it was drooling. He had dreamed of this so often, having you bent over under him, and now he had, and you didn’t even notice his ulterior motives.

A thought that was disproved when he felt it. You pressed your ass against him, circling your hips just ever so slightly to cause friction. An accident? Sam didn’t care. The whine that slipped couldn’t be caught anymore; the despair obvious. The need to beg for you to at least let him feel you for one night, even just a single hour, maybe just put the tip in you if that was all you wanted to give, hanging onto his tongue by a thread. The only thing that kept him from speaking was a pair of attentive eyes that were placed on him.

“‘S…’s a bad position,“ Sam slurred in a weak attempt to explain himself, but he didn’t even really care. He cared about you, boxed in-between his wobbly arms. He could lean down, kiss your neck, suck on it. Leave his wet marks all over you – and who would stop him? “He’s right,” you mused, shifting yet again. This time you rubbed your ass from side to side as if to figure out how to stand, making sure to add pressure against his dick. Sam was creaming in his pants by now, his knees wobbling as he lowered his head. He licked his lips, hot breath hitting your neck.  The goosebumps that appeared made him want to drool all over you, but still, he cleared his throat and guided you into a sloppy shot. Trying to stay strong, not to make it too obvious. But fuck, your gentle grinding into his cock, the way you pressed into him – he swore his cock was about to burst right then and there for you, and if you kept it up, he’d cum in his pants in the saloon.

“Damn, Sam. You wanted to help her win, not make her lose. Maybe you should step back,” Sebastian grunted, an obvious edge to his voice, yet he would have never expected his best friend to actually growl at him in return. That was the only way the sound that radiated through the blonde’s chest could be described; it was deep and rough, almost threatening. Possessive, even.

While it shocked the other man, it sent a shock straight through your whole body. It was enough for you to put your cue away and stand up straight, giving Sebastian a small smile. “I think it’s time we get Sammy boy here to sleep.”

„Ugh, drunk like that? It’s best he sleeps on the couch here, Jodi’s gonna flip otherwise… and I doubt I can drag his drunk ass up the mountain.”

Perfect.

“I’ll take him to the farm, then. Until our ways part we are about halfway there, you can help me drag him.”

Sebastian sighed dramatically, but put the cue away, which probably signalled his agreement, or at least you decided to take it as such.

Both of you draped one of Sam’s arms over your shoulders and made the strenuous way up to your farm, Sebastian stubbornly staring ahead, while Sam was slumped between you. His cheeks were red, but the way you looked at him made him wheeze. The look that he gave you, so lustful and horny, eyes drowning in need, made your legs buckle every now and then, straining a grunt from Sebastian that now had to basically drag two whenever you did. “You sure you want him on your farm? I can stay over-“

“No,“ you interrupted, flashing him a quick, reassuring smile. “You’ve got to work with Robin tomorrow, and she will freak out if you’re not there. Besides, I have a guard dog, and if this fella acts up, he’ll be sent to the doghouse.”

Sebastian smiled a little and nodded, the thought of Sam sleeping in a small hut clearly bemusing him. Smacking his friend on the back, which almost sent the poor boy tumbling over, Sebastian turned. „Behave, you hear? Or I gotta whoop your ass.” With that and a wave, he began to make his way home.

“So…,” you began when Sebastian’s silhouette had blended into the deep night, looking at the blonde hanging onto your shoulder. “What was all that about?”

“All…hicc… what about?”

“In the bar. You drooled on my neck.”  

Sam giggled at that, tilting his head back as his laugh became deeper. “Yea…that-…that probably was ‚cause I really fuckin‘ love you…an‘…an‘ cum in my fist every night thinkin‘ of fuckin…fucking you.”

If that wasn’t drunken honesty, you didn’t know what else would be. “But  I didn’t know hoooow to tell youuuu. So, don’t tell on me, m’kay? Don’t want ya to..hate me, ya know.”

Chuckling quietly, you pushed a strand of hair out of his, face, dragging your lower lip between your teeth. “You know who you’re talking to, right”

“Mh..course. My little farmer princess.”

“And you know what I did to you in the bar?”

“Mhhhhm. Was so close to cummin‘. Still…still am.”

“Do you know what could mean, Sam?”

“That… you suck even more at pool than me?”

You snorted, head tipping back as you laughed. Yoba, he wanted to lick down your throat, down your body, devour your cunt. He wanted to taste you so, so bad. He could have bet that you had the prettiest pussy he would ever lay eyes on, and he would make sure to worship it. With slow licks, the fast ones, by spelling his name on your clit and with your legs over his shoulder so he could get into as much contact as possible.

“No, Sam. I’m into you. I have been for a while. Didn’t you ever notice me flirting? Not even when I told you you should show me what else those fingers can do than play guitar.”

Silence.

You could literally see the corks in Sam’s head reeling, trying to connect the dots of the information that had just been relied to him. “So…ya…like me back?”

You rolled your eyes, deciding that in this state, only actions seemed to count for Sam. Words took too long to process. You leaned down to kiss the man deeply - an opportunity he leaped at. His tongue immediately dragged over your lips, coating them with the taste of alcohol. The moan that left you was to his advantage, he shoved his tongue into your mouth clumsily, letting it run over yours, licking at it as if he was starving. His hands had found your body for support to stop himself from swaying back and forth. “Need ya…need ya so bad. This kay?“ He slurred against your mouth, pretty blue eyes staring at you, begging you without words.

You bit your lip and tried to steady Sam again, “Come on, let’s get to the farm, we can…we can-„ Sam’s mouth hit yours again, his teeth sinking into your lips gently. You moaned again, tugging at his hair, but your surroundings made you pull away and tug at him him. “Let’s get to the farm, I need you,” you ordered, setting a rather fast pace for drunken Sam.

He whined, begged and pleaded, but in the end, he strolled with you, legs buckling and wobbling, and the lack of blood in his brain seemed to make the short path to your house even longer. The fabric of his clothes rubbed against his buldge so uncomfortably, and the way your hips swayed when you walked brought him close to tears. He wanted you. He had wanted you for so long, he couldn’t wait any longer.

The moment you reached the bus stop, Sam dropped to his knees, almost making you fall over due to the sudden weight shift. “Sam! What are you doing?”

“Fuck…fuck, please. ‘M beggin’ you. ‘M so fuckin’ hard…it hurts so bad…shit, you look so pretty for me,” he gasped, rutting against his hand that he had rested in his lap. The moonlight hit you so perfectly…you looked so amazing. Amazing enough for him to throw his head back, now gripping his length through his clothes. “Pretty please,“ he added, helplessly looking up at you. You bit your lower lip again, your own knees growing weak. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs, and it was hard for you to not just let him have his way with you.

“But what if anyone is gonna see us? We can’t risk being caught. It’s not that far anymore…”

“No! No one will see us!” Sam cried, “I promise…promise I’ll be quick. I’ll be quiet. Anythin‘, princess. Pretty please. I beg you. Please. I’ll be good. Just…please.”

You seriously doubted the value of a completely horny, drunk and in love person’s opinion, but before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees, kissing Sam sloppily.

The blonde immediately pounced on you, pressing his crotch into yours, his hands seemingly everywhere. “So pretty,” he panted against you, kissing down your jaw, down your neck, and then he already lapped at your throat. You seemingly felt him everywhere at once, making you moan out lowly.  That only urged Sam on more. He wanted more. He wanted to hear you, smell you, taste you, feel you. He wanted you. No, he needed you.

“You know how often I’ve dreamed of fucking you?”

It was just a murmur against your neck on which he greedily sucked. “How often I’ve dreamed of holdin‘ you in my arms? Pretty baby, makin‘ you all mine.”

Sam had seemingly sobered up a little but that didn’t help much – he was was already intoxicated by you again.

He tugged at your pants and at his at the same time, trying to get them both off at the same time, causing you to laugh out breathlessly. He gave up his attempt and back, licking over his lips.

“Need you so bad,” he repeated while he unbuckled his belt, struggling out of his pants.

You licked your lips and opened the button to your pants much slower, pushing them down your long legs centimetre by centimetre. Blue eyes were glued on you; Sam’s mouth hung open as he watched you, tongue hanging out just slightly. He was pretty sure you could see his dick throb against his already wet boxers, but fuck, who cared? He sure didn’t. The hunger in his eyes made you shiver, no man had ever looked at you like he did, and you were sure he was already fucking you in his head.

“The panties,” he stammered, making you grin to yourself. “The panties. Please, princess. Take them off. You’re so wet already, fuck, please, I- am pretty sure I’m gonna die if you don’t.”

“You mean these?” You teased, gripping at the waistband and letting it snap against your hips. The blonde groaned, the force of the sheer lust hitting him almost making him drop forward again.

“You want them off?”

He nodded, eyes yet again filled with tears. “Yoba, please, yes…need…need to see your pussy.”

“Then take them off.”

Sam was incredibly quick to move, much quicker than you had deemed in the range of possibility, he did have a lot of drinks, but he was on top of you the moment you gave the go. He pushed your shirt upwards and messily pulled your breasts from your bra, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He trailed his tongue around it, before switching sides, his hand trailing towards your panties already. He let his finger glide along your slit over the fabric, growl escaping him upon feeling your wet spot. “All that teasing gotcha wet, huh?” He hissed, biting your nipple gently before he slowly licked down your cleavage, staying in-between your breasts for a moment longer, just inhaling deeply and leaving his love bites. You smelled so good, so sweet; it was hard to not get lost in his in his need. However, after a moment he picked up his journey again and licked down your stomach, until he finally reached the hem of your panties.

The night air began to fill with moans that tumbled out of your mouth, the eagerness you were treated with leaving your cunt pulsing. By now you felt a need similar to Sam’s, making you pretty sure you needed him all over you to ever think properly again, even though right now, you were far from it. He let his fingers run up to your exposed chest, gripping your nipples between pointer finger and thumb and rolling them gently. “Lift your butt,” he ordered, almost smiling to himself when you did. He gripped the lace of your panties with his teeth, slowly tugging them down. You shuddered when the cold night air hit your hot wetness, and Sam moaned lowly upon seeing your cunt.“ Look how beautiful. Such a sweet little cunt…all for me, isn’t it? All for my cock and me,” he rambled, having to sit back on his heels for a moment. The beauty of your almost naked body had him dangerously close to the edge, and he would have forever hated himself if his own dick cockblocked him right now.

“Sam-“

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty baby.”

You sucked in air through your teeth, eyes dragging down his body. He was hard as a rock, and you were sure his boxers were about to rip, so you slowly settled on your hands and knees. Maybe it was also because you just needed to be absolutely stuffed with cock.

You tried to wait patiently, even though your own need made that incredibly hard, but you couldn’t risk getting Sam distracted. His gaze seemed to burn holes into your back, making you shift around on your knees. Then you finally heard shifting and the gentle sound of skin smacking against skin.

“You are so ready for me, baby,” he murmured, his fingers spreading your drooling lips slowly. One of them pushed inside of you, low groan falling from his lips. He curled his finger and then thrusted it knuckle-deep, breathing in sharply upon feeling you basically pulling him in. You were so wet and warm… and he could finally get his dick into you. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to be ripped apart by the feelings tumbling around inside of him, and you were the only thing on this whole planet that would ease this ache he had for you.

You felt his finger leave you and whined, wiggling your ass in the air. Much to your surprise, a hand came down on your butt, forcing you to yelp out Sam’s name. “Teasin‘ me all night already,” he slurred, pressing his tip against your soaked hole. “And it worked…”

With that, he slowly pushed himself inside of you and the world seemed to disappear.

All he could hear was static, and the sound of his own heartbeat, mixing with your moans. He was pretty sure the world could explode and he wouldn’t have blinked an eye. All he could think about was how good you felt; despite only having the tip in, you sucked him in deeper already.

“This okay?”

You nodded eagerly, pushing back against his dick in a desperate attempt to get more. Yoba, you needed more. This time it was you that wanted to cry and beg for him, but Sam seemed to pick up your silent prayers.

His hips shoved forward eagerly; it seemed like your walls were made for his cock. You fit so snuck around him, cunt welcoming him with a wet sound. The two of you moaned and you had to rest your head on your arms to keep at least your butt up in the air for Sam, the promise of being quite long forgotten. Centimetre by centimetre Sam pushed inside of you, making sure to take his time, to really split you in two for him and only him. One of his hands was resting firmly on your hip, the other cupping one of your breasts. When he was balls deep inside of you, he abruptly stopped, his penis twitching violently inside of you. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he had just had his orgasm, and when you turned around you could see his eyes watering. You were about to ask, yet the thought was immediately cut off when Sam pulled back and rammed back into you.

Suddenly you could feel the weight of his upper body on your own as he angled himself to get better access to your sweet cunt.

“Mine, all mine,” Sam panted into your ear as he began to pick up a fast pace, humping you like an animal in heat. The sound of his balls smacking against your wet pussy and the way his pelvic bone hit your bare ass created sounds lewd enough for anyone within a kilometre to know what was happening. Neither of you cared.

You were a moaning mess beneath the blonde, and he was whimpering, close to sobbing your name. Sam sucked on your neck to mark you up, keep you away from dirty, greedy eyes such as his own, his cock bullying into you at a fast pace; your walls sucking him off so well. His eyes rolled in the back of his head when he felt you clench around him as he began to gently circle your clit.

“Like that, huh? Like when…I do this?” He snarled, licking his lips and kissing down your spine; a task that was rather hard given that his hard thrusts made your whole body shake.

“Sam!” You sobbed, trying to meet his thrusts desperately as if you just couldn’t get enough, and Sam was happy to deliver. He pressed you into his body and fucked into you as if his life depended on it, tongue hanging out and droplets of saliva falling on your back.

You swore you could see little fairies dance around you when Sam hit your sweet spot, this combined with his relentless spelling of his name on your clit made you approach the edge with fast steps.

Sam wasn’t much better – he was staring at his thick perverted cock vanishing into your pussy, spreading open your sweet little hole with each thrust. He loved to see how he forced wetness out of you with each thrust, and he swore to himself he’d make you cream.

“Sam, fuck, Sam! I’m gonna cu-cum!” You cried, the thought of if you could maybe wake someone with your needy cries for dick crossed your mind, but it quickly turned into arousal. You would love for people to hear how well Sam was fucking you, how mean he was to your cunt, snapping his hips back and forth mercilessly, accompanied by the sound of his skin smacking against your reddened ass that by now was sporting a red handprint. 

“Gonna cum, Sam, gonna cum!” You slurred, feeling his wet tongue trace patterns down the side of your neck again. White light flashed in front of your eyes, your toes curled up as you felt your face growing numb.

Sam’s whimpers and small groans had turned into dragged out whines, adoring how you let him fuck you out here near the bus stop. He wanted people to hear you. Show them you were his and his alone. He would have loved for each of the guys to see him ruining you, so they’d keep their hands off. Seeing how his cock vanished inside of you with each thrust, how his precum and your juices were mixing together, dribbling down his shaft. The thought of them seeing you sprawled out and crying for him and the feeling of you drooling all over his throbbing dick, begging for more was enough to push him over the edge.

His body tensed up, a cry of sheer pleasure was being bellowed into the night as his orgasm washed over him, his cock pressed deep inside of you. The feeling of his cum inside of you was too much. You sobbed his name, fingers wrapping around strands of grass as your body convulsed, the numbness that caught up to you soothing as you clenched around your lover’s dick, making it hard for Sam to move. The blonde gritted his teeth, his thrusts slowly slowing down as he hung his head; his breathing hard and laboured

You were lying beneath him, panting as well as your hand slowly searched for his. Upon finding it, you intertwined your fingers, and for a moment you two just sat there, Sam’s dick still buried inside of you, your hands interlocked.

“Round two when we reach the farm?” You whispered after a while, despite having his cum drip out of you as he pulled back slowly, making Sam smile like a lovesick puppy.

“Round two when we reach the farm.”

What the two of you didn’t notice was the text from Sebastian’s number that made the screens of your phones light up. Nice show. Make it less obvious that you want to fuck next time or send me videos so I can rewatch.

[shycoconutt]

Life changed a lot after Nanami Kento came into it.

Nights alone in your apartment feasting on cup ramen with microwaved broccoli (for your health obviously), turned into homemade dinners under candlelight. The long ride to work in the back of an Uber turned into riding in the passenger seat of Nanami’s luxury car, hands intertwined over the middle console. Quick showers turned into long, steaming baths with essential oils. Winding down from a long day turned from nights out at the bar to nights in under the covers while he softly reads to you.

“Darling, hey, wake up,” you hear Nanami whisper in your ear as you feel your shoulders shake lightly. You groan in protest, not wanting to be broken away from the warmth and smell of him all around you.

“I know, I know,” he softly chuckles, “but we need to get ready for bed properly.”

You nuzzle into his side more and wrap your arms around him. Squeezing him slightly, you take one long, dramatic inhale of his scent in the crook of his neck, fluttering your eyelashes to give him butterfly kisses.

“What are you doing?,” he laughs, “It tickles!”

“Just taking some for the road,” you smile into his skin.

“You’re such a dork.”

With Nanami, everything always seems to be taken care of. There is no need to over-extend your brain power, because once a thought or worry passes through, you know it’s been meticulously mulled over by your other half.

Your appointments are scheduled and on the calendar. Your laundry is clean and neatly put away in the proper place. Your memories and photos are filed and categorized, with some of your favorites even framed and displayed in your home and offices. Your books, CDs and other media are sorted alphabetically in pristine condition.

“But wouldn’t it be cool if they were categorized by, I dunno, color? We could make a rainbow wall!” you suggest as you marvel at his work.

Nanami, who is currently kneeling on the floor putting the last of your books on the shelf, turns and gives you a disapproving glare, “Absolutely not. It would be a disservice to your collection.”

“A disservice to my collection?”

“What happens when a series contains books of all different colored covers? Am I supposed to just separate them?”

You blink.

“You’re right. I apologize for even suggesting something so foul.”

But, most importantly, over everything, your body, mind, and soul are finally at ease. Past anxieties rarely present themselves anymore, and, if they do, you never dwell. People say you’re glowing, and they aren’t wrong. Your skin is clear, your hair is shiny and smooth. Your favorite clothes fit a little better, and your shoes are always polished to look brand new.

“Nananmi Kento looks good on you, girl,” Shoko muses, watching you over her lunch in the breakroom.

You smirk, daring not to look across the table to conserve your blush, “Feels good too.”

“Gross!” 

You curl over in laughter as Shoko chucks a strawberry at your head.

All this and more, because Nanami cares, protects, cherishes, and respects you. He would never, ever in a million years try to hurt you in any way. He is honest and loyal, vowed by his duty to be a man. Ever since he was young, he put immense thought into its meaning, only to be confirmed by one look at you.

One look and he knew that you were the one he would spend the rest of his life with.

“I think I should take you out on a date, if you don’t mind of course,” Nanami stutters, gently pulling you aside after one of your meetings.

“You think we should date?” you question, head reeling.

“Yes,” he starts, “I think we’ve been friends for long enough and it’s time to move forward with our relationship.”

The disbelief you feel must be painted on your face because Nanami’s normally pale skin is flushed cherry red just looking at you.

“I mean, long term,” he’s babbling now, “I want to make you my wife. Well, I wanted you to be my wife from the beginning, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, but they always say the best relationships start from friendships, so I thought it would be best to take our time. Naturally, now is as good a time as any. We’re at good places in our careers, we already spend a lot of time together, our personalities mesh, and, I don’t mean to be coarse, but I think we’d look pretty good tog-"

Before your mind has a chance to catch up, you’re already cutting him off with a passionate kiss, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down close to you. After a beat, you feel Nanami’s broad, warm hands grab hold around your waist, pulling you to him. 

His lips feel so soft, and more plush than you anticipated. You part yours slightly in an invitation, and he’s quick to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip. You reciprocate and smile when you feel the vibrations of a small moan escape him.

You break the kiss first.

“I’d marry you yesterday if I could, Kento.”

Where he ebbs, you flow. With the few traits he lacks, you flourish. In social settings, you pick up when he doesn’t have the bandwidth to keep going. You can read his mind from his body language alone. You've shown him how to aim for the ideal, even when his pragmatic nature leads the way. You’ve taught him to slow down, even when life is relentlessly shoving him along.

“Kento, are you- are you crying?” you question in shock.

It’s difficult to process the information in front of you. You’re not seeing things, right? That’s definitely a tear falling down his cheek. Quickly, you bring your thumb to his face, swiping it away.

Catching your wrist, he brings your pulse point to his lips, giving you a small kiss there.

Here, feet in the white sand of the island of Redang, under the dark, starry sky, Kento goes down to kneel before you.

Recognizing the gesture, your heart swells and all the air leaves your lungs. Both your hands immediately cover your mouth, and the burn of tears forming ignites behind your eyes.

Through the blur, you see him smile. 

Regaining composure over your senses, you remind yourself to take everything in. The way his honey-brown eyes reflect the lights in the distance, the way his open collar ruffles in the breeze, the appearance of the new freckles from the Malaysian sun that decorate his exposed chest, how his unstyled, blonde hair moves freely, how one of his hands takes both of your own, while the other holds out a breathtakingly beautiful solitaire diamond ring.

Your eyes take him all in and land back on his face, one that displays the most loving, adoring expression you’ve ever received. 

“When you came into my life, everything changed. I knew, from that point forward, I would dedicate my existence to ensuring your happiness. Nothing matters to me more than seeing you smile. It gives me purpose—fills the air in my lungs. I have never, and will never need anything more.”

You watch the tears cascade down his cheeks, mirroring your own.

“Please do me the honor of marrying me and making you my wife.”

One second passes, and you squeal, “Yes!”

a/n: This was supposed to be smutty and turned into something fluffy. I can't help it! I just adore him so much. also, how do we feel about this format? I've never done something like this before!

[ventismacchiato]

O8 stuck with you — im on top (of you) !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

The day you had been dreading was finally upon you.

“Stop looking so sad,” Yoimiya sighs as she looks over to where you were slumped on the floor of the recording studio you guys were in.

“My beautiful voice…mixed in with his,” you shuddered at the mere thought of his vocals sullying the album.

“Quit being so dramatic,” Lumine chastised, reaching over to get you off the floor. 

You look over to where Scara was similarly slumped on the floor, staring into the wall as his group members conversed around him. Looks like he wasn’t too into the idea of recording with you either.

“You guys ready?” Albedo asks, walking in carrying a stack of papers as he walks past you guys to the soundbooth. The young blonde had been one of the company’s producers since you’d debuted. He reminded you a mix between Kazuha and Xiao, quiet but managed to get his artistic vision across.

“You two,” Albedo gestures to you and Scara, “I was instructed to get you both done quickly before working on the group song.”

“Jean really slotted all this time and took into consideration how much Scaramouche and Yn bicker,” Fischl muses.

“What are we singing?” Scaramouche asks, flipping through the page of lyrics Albedo handed you both.

“A love song,” Albedo answers, hooking a pair of headphones onto his head, “Let’s just try it out and see what needs to be added, go on then.”

He gently pushes you into the recording booth as you both tug on your own pair of headphones.

You eye the lyrics as you tug the microphone closer to you, wincing at the implications behind the words.

The first few attempts were disastrous to say the least. Scaramouche kept criticizing your timing and you kept pointing out how he was overpowering the track. Albedo’s patience, which was unbelievably high if he worked with the likes of you, was wearing thin as you both argued over every line.

After a take that finally sounded decent Albedo gestures for you two to come out of the booth.

“Are we finally done?” Scara asks.

“That sounded pretty good to me,” Childe pipes up.

“If you guys had collaborated earlier we would be drowning in so much money right now,” Venti sighs dejectedly. 

“Almost,” Albedo answers, fingers flying over his keyboard, "I just need you both to moan,” Albedo deadpanned.

“What?” Scara slowly says, like he’s on the verge of strangling Albedo by the neck.

“Before you say anything just listen to this clip.”

You couldn’t even process anything before Albedo was hitting play and your gentle voice mixed with Scara’s came out of the speakers, followed by some harmonies by Aether and then Xiao that he’d added in later. It all sounded good as they all harmonized together, but even you could feel that something was missing.

“So, you need us to do what ?”

“Moan, so I can use it as backup vocals,” Albedo hummed, twirling a pen with his fingers, seeming nonchalant about what he was asking of them.

“Fuck no,” Scara says, jutting a finger at you, “Why do I have to moan on the same song as them.”

“I don’t want to either,” you huff as your members erupt into a fit of laughter behind you. The traitors.

“It’s just my suggestion,” Albedo says, putting his hands up, “Just try it out.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this, how am I supposed to moan with Yn next to me?”

“I get dried up just looking at you.”

“The world gets dry from looking at you.”  

“You should have no trouble faking a moan, since it’s probably what everyone you’ve ever slept with has done.”

Albedo snaps his fingers in front of you both.

“I don’t care how you do it, just harmonize a moan or two for me,” Albedo says, pushing you both back into the booth, “I would like to go home early for once.”

“We won’t be able to see you,” Albedo adds, “So feel free to do whatever helps you get out the best moans.”

“Gross,” Scara called out as Albedo shut the door behind him.

“I’m going to kill myself,” you mumble as you tug the microphone towards you once again.

Scara glares at you as you both stand in the booth, the microphone between you two a symbol of your forced cooperation. You can feel the tension radiating off him, and it's not helping your own nerves. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

"Let's just get this over with," you mutter, avoiding Scara's eyes.

"Fine," he snaps, crossing his arms. "But don't think for a second that I'm happy about this."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, well, neither am I."

There's a long, uncomfortable silence as you both stare at the microphone. Outside the booth, Albedo is watching, his expression expectant. You glance at Scara, trying to gauge his mood. He's scowling, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something like hesitation.

"Look," you say, trying to sound reasonable in an attempt to get this over with. "Let's just do one take and see how it goes. If it sounds terrible, we can convince Albedo to scrap the idea."

Scara raises an eyebrow, but after a moment, he nods. "Fine. One take."

You both lean towards the microphone, your faces inches apart. You can feel Scara's breath on your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You close your eyes, trying to block out the awkwardness, and focus on the task at hand.

Taking a deep breath, you let out a soft, hesitant moan. It feels strange and embarrassing, but you push through, hoping it will be over soon. Beside you, Scara does the same, his moan blending with yours. 

Scaramouche’s moans would usually sound like a sexually-transmitted disease: gross and something that you’d never touch with a fifteen-foot pole, but for a moment, it created an unexpected harmony.

Albedo's voice crackles through the intercom. "That was... actually not bad. Let's try it one more time, but with a bit more feeling. Scara, go a bit lower.”

You both go through the motions again, and you try to ignore how Scara’s moans sound so resonant through your headphones and the heat on your cheeks from making such an intimate sound beside him. 

Albedo’s voice comes through the intercom again. “Perfect. That’s exactly what we needed.”

You sigh with relief, tugging off the headphones as fast as you could and slipping out the booth.

As you and Scara step out of the booth, you're immediately met with the smirking faces of the other members. They're lounging on the studio couch, looking far too amused for your liking.

Childe is the first to speak, a stupid grin plastered across his face. "Well, well, look at you two. Didn't know you two were that freaky."

Lumine snickers, giving you both a mock round of applause. "That was hot. It felt like I was interrupting.”

“I hope you all die,” Scara says from beside you before turning to Albedo, “And you’re a freak for suggesting that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Albedo hums, already tuning them out as he has his headphones back on.

"Alright, alright," you say, trying to change the subject. "Can we please focus on something else now?"

Venti stands up, stretching. "Fine, fine. But you know we’re never going to let you live this down, right?"

“I’m personally going to buy several copies of this album,” Yoimiya giggles.

“I hope Albedo makes you guys do something embarrassing,” you huff.

"No wonder you're still a virgin if you sound like that when moaning,” Scaramouche says, smirking as he slips past you to sit on the couch. 

“Shut up,” you grumble.

“Can’t even defend yourself,” Scara taunts.

“Lot of talk for someone who also hasn’t gotten laid in a while,” Aether whistles.

“Whose side are you on, Aether?!”

//

Later that day

“Let’s just get this over with,” you sigh as you follow your members towards the studio.

“I’m excited,” Venti hums, skipping ahead of you.

“I’m surprised at how quickly they pulled this together,” Xiao comments, opening the door for you, “It’s like they’ve been waiting for you two to fuck up.”

“Which you have, several times,” Lumine unhelpfully pipes up from behind you.

“I’m so sick of you guys,” you grumble, accepting your fate.

As you walked into the studio, you could only stare in disbelief at the high ceiling, the windows that took the length of the walls letting in the evening light, poppy color mottled across the sky as the sun quietly set behind you. Wealth practically drips from the room as you look around. You never even used this space for your album photoshoots, since you guys never needed such a big space for just you six.

In one of the corners you spotted a large camera standing tall in front of a white backdrop, the ground adorned with roses and petals. The white-pink petals fluttered in the wind as the fans in the corner caused them to float throughout the studio. The reds and pinks jump out against the white. It was sickeningly romantic. You wanted to throw up at the implication.

You spotted Jean talking to Scaramouche, who looked like she was giving the other a pep talk before she spotted you and waved you over.

“Yn! We were just discussing the photoshoot, Lisa will instruct you two after she’s done talking to the crew. I need to go chat with them, you two stay here and get ready,” Jean rushed out, calling over some stylists to fix you guys up, already out of breath as she dashed over to Lisa. 

“You’re late,” Scara says as his greeting as a group of women start fussing over your guys’ hair and outfits.

“You’re early, tryhard.”

“Not your best comeback,” Yoimiya whistles from a few feet away.

“Alright you guys,” Lisa calls out, walking over to where your groups were gathered getting touched up, “We’re going to get the group shots over with, then some solo ones, and we’ll separate to do some pairing shots.”

//

They all stood together awkwardly as they waited for the staff to finish setting up the cameras, once they finally did they led the group and positioned them. For group pictures they had all the girls stand to one side and the guys on the other, so you guys were in a crescent moon shape. Right after you all separate, the girls in another set and the males in a different one. 

The cameraman moved and adjusted everyone for what felt like a hundred dozen times before he finally clapped and positioned you guys to take the picture. He had you hold a pose where you were sitting on a bench and leaning on your side for what felt like forever, you would surely gain some sort of back pain from this. 

The most awkward part was the solo photoshoots. Even after becoming an idol you still felt awfully awkward when doing them, but when it was just your members you could manage. But being in front of Scara made you feel extra self conscious. 

People like Aether and Childe had a blast, and all the girls seemed to be enjoying it. But you felt quite embarrassed as you were told to pose seductively and show more skin. You weren't alone in this predicament, since Xiao and Kazuha seemed to be having a tough time as well when they were forced to manspread on some seats. Scaramouche became complacent and let the cameraman adjust him accordingly, he even went along with the whorish poses Lisa was having too much fun making them all do.

“Doesn’t Scara look good manspreading half naked like that?” Venti whispers in your ear.

You jump, startled as you stare back at him in disdain.

“No,” you scoff, “Stop ogling him.”

You’re still still stuck on the fact that Scaramouche is shirtless and actually has a decent build. Yes, it's objectively hot—something that you’d admit under the pain of getting an arm hacked off—but it's also quite insane.

With the group photoshoot finished, they all bid farewell as they separated off into their own corners to do their paired shots. 

“Alright, Scara and Yn you guys are going to be in Set B,” Jean stated, gently pushing the two of them in that direction. You look and spot the dreaded set where it looked like cupid himself threw up.

You both trailed behind the cameramen over to it, trying your best to not step and wilt any of the flowers artistically placed on the ground. 

“Okay, I’m in charge of you guys!” Lisa grinned as you guys approached her, “I’m going to have so much fun with you two.”

“Not too much fun,” Scaramouche grumbles as you both go to stand before the camera.

“Scara, don’t be a prude and unbutton your shirt. Yn, I need you to lay down,” Lisa instructs, walking over and pushing you down until you’re laying down on the petals. You were still reluctant at the fact you would have to do a paired photoshoot with Scara, so your reaction time was still quite slow. Lisa eventually just adjusted your body as needed and bent down next to you, spreading out your hair and laid some petals on it, standing up to admire her work. 

“Scaramouche, you’re gonna hover over them and hold that position for a while, and when I say next you lean in as if you’re going to kiss them. Is that alright?” Lisa asked, already heading back to the camera and having the cameramen adjust it lower to capture them in the frame. 

“If I say no, does that do anything?” Scara asks.

“No! Now get to it!”

Scara mutters a curse under his breath as he begins to unbutton his button up. You catch a glimpse of his bare skin before he’s kneeling down to knees and crawling over you, placing both palms on either side of your head and leaning forward. Since he couldn’t just hold a plank over you forever, Scara placed one knee in between your legs and another one beside your left leg for stability. 

Your breath was hitched in your throat at the proximity, you could see every detail of Scara’s stupid face and makeup from underneath him. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to how intimate you both were being right now, you’d never been underneath someone like this before. Unless you were being pinned down by Lumine during a fistfight of some sort when you accidentally ate her food. 

“Yn! Put your arms around his neck!”

You flinched at Lisa’s yell but did as you were told and wrapped your arms around Scara’s neck, bringing him closer as you did so. There wasn't anywhere to look but at Scara’s eyes, which felt awkward and weird in itself, so you opted for your eyes to wander. But they landed on his lips instead, which wasn’t any better.

Scara’s dark eyes bore into yours, his gaze not wavering as you looked everywhere but at him. That was before you realized this was a literal photoshoot and adjusted your eyes back to him.��

“Both of you, stop glaring!”

Scaramouche sighed above you, before forcing himself to soften his gaze towards you. It felt odd to be looked at like an equal by him.

You study Scaramouche closely, now that you’re forced to. He has these lips that are plush pink and they meet just barely like the slightest touch would coax them open. His eyelashes are long and there’s a beauty mark just shy of his eye coated over with concealer. His ears are small and there’s an assortment of earrings hanging off of them, ones he never wears during practice. He’s stupidly pretty. It makes you want to punch him.

“Alright, hold for ten then move to the next position.” 

Ten seconds? That felt like hours due to the way Scara was looking down at you, a fabricated gentle gaze in his eyes as he eyed you up and down. 

“Next!” 

“The faster we comply the faster I can get out of this stupid position with you,” Scara huffs, his voice barely above a whisper before he leans forwards and hovers his lips right above your jaw. Your body instinctively moves its hands to run through his hair, as if you both were actually going to kiss. God forbid.

“Cut!” 

The lights dimmed and Scara immediately pushed himself off of you. You slowly sat up, dizzy from the stress of being that close to someone you disliked.

“I’m the one who had to hover over you and you’re tired? Pathetic,” Scara huffs, reaching down to roughly tug your arm so you’re standing and almost immediately letting go of you after.

“Don’t you think this is a little too much?” Scara asks, walking ahead of you towards where Lisa was looking through the photos

“We made everyone do paired shoots, see!” Lisa says, turning the screen to show you. 

You and Scara scroll through to see all your members in pairs like you both, but none of them are quite like yours. 

“So Venti and Aether got to pose in a car and we had to fake a kiss?” Scara scoffs, “Where’s the delete button–?"

Lisa yanks the camera from him before he has the chance and shoos them off.

“I’ve got enough from you guys, go get your makeup undone.”

“This is so dumb,” you grumble as you follow behind Scara. All of this work because you both couldn’t keep your mouth shut during an awards show and now you had to fake being in love with the idiot.

You pray to Buddha, God, and whatever other deity out there that was most certainly laughing at you, that you can manage to get along with Scaramouche before anyone does notice it’s all fake.

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

when i say moans i mean like the song Mmmh by KAI like do u see the vision

also the album cover can be you or one of the other members depending on what ur comf with 😇

pls ignore how is it fake is listed twice 😔 also the lyrics are from taylor i can see you

yk the drill comment on the masterlist if i can use ur user and make u a fan

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes sorry guys for the long wait i was lowk goin thru it but im back 🗣️

taglist closed — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @kazuhasbabe