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yuwuta · 3 months

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YUUTA OKKOTSU’S DECLASSIFIED JUJUTSU TECH SURVIVAL GUIDE (AN APPETITE HAUNTING THE HEART)

❝i know this tastes too good to be healthy. the more it melts, the sweeter it gets, so take my heart out because i need all of you.

*this is yuuta okkotsu’s fool-reviewed plan for navigating all things curses, sorcery, and love.

pairings. okkotsu/reader

content, warnings. canon-adjacent, reader has a cursed technique, friends to lovers, smut (uhh... no triggers i think? other than implied virginity loss on yuuta’s part), mentions of violence/curses, possessive/intrusive thoughts... he starts of kinda sweet and weird and then just gets... weirder and worse lol, so mostly yuuta being... yuuta <2

notes. jujustu tech is a college not a highschool, yes i brought naruto in this, i believe in sasuke slander only from a place of pure love, real sasuke ridicule will not be accepted xoxo

word count. 12k i told you i could yap about him all day

playing. candy/baekhyun, untouched/the veronicas, cream soda/exo, lacy/olivia rodrigo, pure honey/beyoncé

#1 — Do NOT touch Maki Zenin’s tools (but if you do, the cute girl who hangs around Inumaki might help to patch you up).

Yuuta hadn’t meant to piss off Maki. He was trying to be helpful, but Yuuta learned the hard way today: do not touch Maki’s cursed tools, at all, for any reason whatsoever. He intended to hand it back to her, but she was prompt in assuming that was part of an attack, snatching it from under his grasp and giving him a jab on the wrist with the dull end of the stick. If the beatdown he’d endured during training put Yuuta on his deathbed, then that hit was the final nail in the coffin.

The crack! sound of his bones made everyone pause their sparring, and Gojo winced the loudest, “Ouch! That one had to hurt, kid!” It was also Gojo who gathered everyone to stand around and look down at him clutching his wrist in pain, before making the executive decision to appoint you as Yuuta’s caretaker.

“This is definitely something you can handle!” he cheered, patting the top of your head, “Take our dearest Yuuta to the infirmary and patch him up, please and thank you! With the way Maki’s been kicking him into the ground, those cuts are sure to get infected sooner rather than later. The two of you can join us for dinner when you’re finished!”

Yuuta tried to refute, on the grounds of “No—no! I—ouch—this really isn’t worth using any kind of cursed energy over!” Which was quickly met with a mischievous raised eyebrow from his teacher, “Oh? Are you insinuating that my precious student doesn’t have the skill to fix a simple fracture?” That prompted Yuuta to spill a flurry of apologies, none of which were coherent, and ended up with him trailing behind you sheepishly to the infirmary with a broken wrist, several bleeding wounds, and probably early heart failure.

Now, Yuuta sits with his feet dangling off of the edge of the examination chair, shivering from the chilliness of the room, and all of his nerve endings rattling at the realization that this is the first time that he’s been alone in a room with you since you’ve met. He winces, first at the sting of disinfectant into his wound, and then internally—mostly out of embarrassment—because his outward reaction made you pause your actions to question if he’s okay.

Okay is relative, he thinks. In the grand scheme of things, he’s okay. Concerning his current injuries, he’ll be okay eventually. Concerning this… whatever this is he feels for you… maybe not so okay.

“Sorry,” he stutters, too loud for the atmosphere and proximity of your bodies to each other, and, so, he winces again, cheeks staining red to match his embarrassment, as if he or you needed any confirmation of it. He doesn’t mean to be a difficult patient, but he has an adversity surrounding hospitals and medical care, and that alcohol really does burn, and you’re really close to his face, and—and you giggle a little, but Yuuta hears a chorus, instead; warm, spring-like, with violins and a piano and cellos strumming in perfect harmony, and the buzz of bees and butterfly wings flapping the melody.

“You apologize a lot,” you tell him, a kind smile on your lips. You step forward, just a bit, as you peel off the band-aid adhesive and gently press it over the bridge of Yuuta’s nose. It’s Hello Kitty themed. It makes him want to scream.

“Yeah, uh—sorry about that!” Yuuta apologizes, once again too loudly. He scratches at the back of his neck with his left hand, and his eyes go wide after a few beats, “No, wait—I didn’t mean to apologize again. I just... I, uh... thank you. That’s what I wanted to say. For helping me, you have my sincerest thank you.”

Yuuta dips his head to bow, and when he raises it again, you’re blinking at him owlishly, and he thinks he’s really done it now. You must think he’s a freak, if you didn’t already. He thinks you’re gonna tell him off for being pathetic and a weakling, but instead you laugh again—that precious sound that pauses Yuuta’s world for the better.

“You’re awfully formal. There’s no need for that, or to thank me. We’re friends, afterall,” you reassure him, “Even if Gojo did force you to be my practice dummy.”

It’s his turn to reassure you, his uninjured hand moving from his neck to shake frantically in front of him, “It’s completely okay,” he does his best to give you a smile as warm as the one you give him. It probably doesn’t work, but he tries anyway—he’s always been an awkward smiler, too wide-mouthed and toothy, “You can do whatever you want to me, I trust you.”

Your face seems almost solemn at his declaration, and the panic instantly kicks in again. Yuuta scrambles when his words play back in his head, “I’m sorry, was that weird? I meant that I trust your judgment. You can, uh, fix me up however you best see fit—or just leave it! I’m sure it’ll heal on—”

“You’re awfully self-sacrificing, too,” you cut him off with a laugh, your usual warm nature clicking back. Yuuta shrugs, feeble; you smile wider, “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I keep staring, and I’m sorry to have made you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all! You don’t... make me uncomfortable, I mean. You could never,” Yuuta rushes, curling back into himself after his outburst, “You... it always feels really nice when you’re around. I can’t explain it, but everything is calmer.”

Your eyes flutter across his face, before you turn away from him, “I can tell it makes you nervous—I can hear the changes in your heartbeat,” you tell him, opening the cabinet to return the alcohol to its rightful place. You must also be able to hear his thoughts, chiming in just as Yuuta continues to wonder if his heartbeat is really that loud, “It’s part of my technique. I don’t mean to intrude on your heart.”

Is it an intrusion if Yuuta left room for you? If he wanted you to be there? Was it crazy to think that he’d give you his heart to hold and trust you to take care of it, even though you’d only met a few months ago? Maybe it would be easier if he let you squeeze tight enough to put him out of his misery already.

Luckily, you keep talking before he can say something stupid like that out-loud again.

“It’s just that... you remind me of somebody that I used to know. You’re kind like him, and you both share a well-intentioned recklessness, too. I see so much of him in you that it’s hard not to stare sometimes,” you admit, turning back to face him, and gingerly taking his wrist between your hands. When your hands start to glow, Yuuta can feel it—your reversed cursed technique is warm on the surface, but chilly underneath, like a heated blanket on top of perfectly cool sheets.

“I don’t mean to say that you’re just a replacement,” you continue, slowly rotating your hands over his injury. It stings a little, then soothes, “I’m just still in awe of how nice it feels being around you. It feels strangely—”

“Familiar,” Yuuta interjects, “I understand. You feel that way, too. I think... that’s what I meant before.” He understands your words perfectly because you remind him of someone precious to him, too; someone he used to and still loves alot. “You—it makes me happy, that’s why I seem so nervous.”

It seems as though you understand him, too. His heart sings, and you can probably hear it, but Yuuta doesn’t quite mind so much now. What he feels for you is consuming, maybe concerning, but knowing that you know what it’s like to love like him brings him an odd sense of comfort. Maybe he should be jealous that you’ve had someone to love that much before, but he’s not exactly in a position to talk. What matters is that you can hear him and feel him—his heart and his love and his sad and his happy, and it doesn’t push you away.

It makes him want to burst. He owes you a thank you for putting something so precious in his life. He owes you an apology, for ever doubting that you couldn’t handle his symptoms. He should have realized that you can handle his love.

“You feel really warm, too,” he blushes, scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand, “And, uh, not just because you’re holding my hand.”

The twinkle in your eyes turns into confusion, then surprise when you look down to see that the hand below his wrist had moved to rest underneath his palm instead. His wrist was well healed by now, and you’d been, effectively, massaging his skin and muscles with your technique for the latter duration of your conversation without realizing it.

Yuuta couldn’t tell when it went from healing to hand holding, but he’s not complaining—and he doesn’t think he could have stopped it either. Another quality to your technique that he couldn’t understand was how your energy felt sticky, flowed like honey; how it managed to run into broken crevices and bruised dents with a mind of its own. Even if he’d wanted to pull his hand away—and he didn’t, he absolutely did not—he wouldn’t have gotten far from you. He never wanted to be.

“You already have calluses on your palm,” you note, dispelling your healing energy, holding onto Yuuta’s hand only by want now, “You train hard. You’ll catch up to Maki and Toge, quickly, but not if you don’t take care of yourself.”

Yuuta almost chokes when you rotate your wrist so that your fingers are aligned. Your hand is so much softer than his, warmer than his, and maybe he’s idealistic, but your fingers seem to slot perfectly between his when you curl them.

“I’m not always going to be around to fix you up,” you warn him, “So don’t go around pissing Maki off too much, alright?”

Yuuta can feel the heat from your body flow through him. From his palm, up his arm, down into his chest, and everywhere else. It doesn’t feel real. You’re holding his hand, you’re smiling at him, you’re right there and you’re so bright and beautiful, so Yuuta doesn’t know why his thoughts are so gray and dangerous; you wouldn’t hurt him, and he doesn’t want to hurt you, so why can’t he stop thinking about keeping you like this—of stitching your hands together forever to keep you by his side, or letting this heat consume and burn you both.

Yuuta shakes his head to wiggle those thoughts away, but to you it seems like he’s saying no to staying off of Maki’s radar. When he realizes it, he nods too reverently to make up for it; surely looking like an idiot, and then to top it off, he squeaks, “I—yes, ma’am!”

Another foolish outburst on his end, perhaps, but it makes you giggle, fills the room with springtime for a moment, so to Yuuta, it was worth it. “Good,” you nod, release his hand and beckon him off of the chair, “Come on, we should go eat before Panda takes all the good sides for himself.”

Yuuta follows you back to the dorms with his stomach already full of love, love, love. He loves you, and you can hear, and see, and feel exactly what you do to him, and you don’t run. Yuuta thinks maybe you should, even though he doesn’t want you to. Surely you know what he did to Rika when he loved her.

Rika seems to like you, actually, if the humming of her voice in his head as he takes his seat at the table next to you is any indication. He can vaguely make out some of her words as you pass him the dumplings—warm, kind, loyal. He agrees. Pretty, too. No disagreement there.

In such a short amount of time, you’ve shifted Yuuta’s ethos for life. He wanted to die to be with the person he loved before, and never quite understood why Rika would stop him, why she would want him to suffer in this life alone; but maybe this is what Rika was always trying to tell him; that his love was not lost and buried with her, but flowing towards you, his heart, a beacon for you to locate.

You’d mentioned that he reminded you of someone you knew before, that you couldn’t see anymore. Yuuta doesn’t know what happened to your person before he came along; he can only hope that you’ll allow him and his heart to be a vessel for your love someday, too. He won’t disappoint you. He won’t let you let go of him.

It shouldn’t be hard. You already have his heart in your hands.

#2 — Gojo is more than a teacher. He is also the school event planner, once ranked Diamond in Overwatch, and is the only person blacklisted from any and all kitchens on campus. He also gives pretty good (sometimes questionable?) advice. His eyes are kind of scary.

You’re there when he and Toge are nearly decimated by the Grade 1 curse in the abandoned market. He still doesn’t understand much about sorcery at this point, so seeing people like you and Toge in action is awe-inspiring to say the least. Yuuta knows that Toge is nothing short of amazing, but he can’t help but to be drawn into you, you, you—your energy, your fighting style, the seemingly never-ending applications of your technique. Cursed energy in and of itself is still a foreign concept to him, so perhaps it’s that seeing you use the reverse of it so effortlessly is even more novel to him.

He can hear Rika strumming in the back of his mind, an indistinct itch and hum that sounds vaguely like laughter at his self-justification. He chooses to ignore her.

After, while he’s still buzzing with the tingly warm sensation of your technique after you’d patched him up, Gojo finds him, and Yuuta, unable to keep up a façade, pours all his anxious, worried, inquisitive feelings about his mission on the table.

“The way that (_____) can heal wounds... is that something I can learn?” Yuuta questions his teacher, eyes tired but genuine and earnest.

And Gojo, all knowing and absolutely singing at the implications, smiles so wide he’s certain his newest student could see the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, even through the dark tint of his glasses. “Maybe.”

He goes on, leaning back into the old loveseat, one leg crossed over his other knee, “You’ll probably be able to learn to heal yourself with reversed cursed technique, but using it to heal others is difficult and rare. Shoko and (_____) are the only people I know who can do it.”

“Is… did she get to learn it because she’s a Grade 1?” He remembers Maki explaining the ranking system for Jujutsu sorcerers. You and Toge were ranked the highest in the class, and amongst the other Kyoto students; it would make sense that you two have learned more applications of your techniques due to your higher placements.

Gojo chuckles, much to Yuuta’s confusion. “That’s not quite how it works—and if it were, then you’d already know because you’re a Special Grade. You don’t unlock new lessons as you move up, you move up because of how well you’ve learned to control and apply your own cursed technique.”

Right. That makes sense. Except Yuuta knows that his classification of Special Grade is a bit of a cheat because he can’t control or apply his cursed energy half as well as any of his classmates. He has Rika to thank for his immediate promotion, not himself or his own skills.

“In any case, if you do learn it, you’ll never be able to execute it like her, that’s for certain. Reversed cursed technique is complicated to learn and nearly impossible to teach. It’s one of those things you truly have to figure out for yourself when the timing is right—I only got it when I was on the brink of death. It’s 100% effective on the person doing it, but only 50% effective when applied to other people by the user,” Gojo says, “Except for (_____). She was born with reversed cursed energy, which is why she has an almost 100% output on herself and others, so she’s extra special. ”

Yuuta frowns. He never expected to do anything half as well as you, but knowing there’s only half a chance that he could, literally, only ever meet you half-way is frustrating. You can save him time and time and time again, as you already have, and all he can do is be a wound for you to stitch back together.

It must be difficult for you. A similar thought had crossed his mind when he first met Shoko-san, feeling bad for her having to carry the burden of healing others, knowing that she could never receive the same treatment in return. It’s worse for you, though, to be an angel amongst the men on this Earth—it’s not fair that you can give so much to help, and nobody can do the same for you. Yuuta wants to give something to you, he wants to devote himself to you, so at the very least, you have that. If he can’t give you anything else, he can give you himself.

Gojo laughs at Yuuta’s silence, kicking his legs up on the coffee table. “That’s hard for you to hear, huh? Ha! You truly are a lover, not a fighter, Yuuta.”

Yuuta blinks at him. “I, uh... thank you?” He says, even though he’s not so certain that those two things are discernable.

“Right now, the best thing for you to do is focus on controlling Rika and your cursed energy. That way, (_____) can also focus on fighting, and not healing, when you’re on missions together. The stronger you are, the less she’ll have to clean up after you,” Gojo advises.

He puts his feet back on the floor and uses the leverage to lean over, a bit too close for Yuuta’s comfort. “The only thing you can do for her is to learn to help yourself.”

Yuuta’s eyes go wide. He wants to—he wants to help you, wants to help himself, wants to help others, too. There’s a selfish twang for a moment, the thought of not needing you anymore tugging at his heart, but Rika reminds him that he’ll still want you.

Then an even scarier thought crosses his mind. “What happens if I don’t learn to control this? What happens if I curse her instead?”

Yuuta trembles at the thought, breathing and heartbeat erratic, his sensei moving back a bit. Rika is there again, reassuring him that he never hurt her, that his love never hurts, that the only person he’s ever truly harmed is himself by isolation of his own feelings. Trust her, Rika demands, she can handle this.

You can. Can you? You have, so far. You don’t run, you don’t push, you give, and give, and give to him; Rika was kind and playful and took and took and took Yuuta’s loneliness and sickness in stride and he still cursed her, seemingly for all eternity. He wants to love and be loved, but not if it means hurting you—isn’t it bad enough that he’s already inept at healing your wounds? Why should he risk giving you more?

“Yuuta,” Gojo calls him out of his thoughts, “I’m disappointed.”

That truly breaks Yuuta’s cyclical monologue. “I—disappointed?”

Gojo ticks his tongue, shakes his head and points a finger in accusation, “You should know your fellow classmates better by now. (_____) is not that weak or scared,” he chastises, “You’re so worried about cursing her that you haven’t realized that she is the only person so far to have effectively used her curse on you.”

Yuuta pauses, eyes wet with the awful realization that Gojo was right. You have already cursed him; your technique has already gotten past the barrier of his curse. You’ve cursed him. He never stopped to think that it was possible, worried only about himself. How selfish—he shares Gojo’s disappointment in himself.

He’s spent so much time loathing his jealous mind and decaying heart that he hasn’t opened his eyes to see you that you’ve found him. You can poison anything he does, and make the antidote with equal ease; how stupidly naive of Yuuta to think that he could be the one to diagnose or treat you better than you could him, or yourself.

“I’m sorry, sensei,” Yuuta dips his head, and also spares you an internal apology, “I understand better, now.”

“Is that so?” Gojo muses, leaning back into the sofa. His eyes scan Yuuta’s when his head is raised again, that knowing grin creeping back up on his lips. “Well, if you still want to know more about reversed curse technique, or want help learning it, it’s not an entirely lost cause. I’m definitely not the person for this lesson, but, you know who is?”

Yuuta feels a sense of whiplash from the change in Gojo’s demeanor. Confusion clouds his mind again, and he shrugs, “Um... Shoko-sensei?”

Gojo makes a loud buzzer noise, complete with crossing his arms in front of his chest in a big ‘X.’ Yuuta frowns again. Is that where Toge learned to do that?

“Wrong! I’m talking about (_____), obviously!” Gojo claps his hands together, before lowering his glasses to wiggle his eyebrows, “Tutoring is a textbook way to get some alone time, kiddo. You want to spend more time with her outside of class and missions, right?”

“I want to spend all my time with her,” Yuuta confesses, mindlessly. And foolishly, he soon realizes, when he sees that Gojo’s grin has tripled; and he’s quick to flash his hands to correct himself, “No—not like that—not in a creepy way! I just... I want to get to know her better, like you said.”

Yuuta’s awkward chuckles fill the space, and he can feel his insides burning from his cheeks all the way down to his hands. Would he ever be able to think coherently or tactfully when it came to you?

“So, uh... I... it’s okay if I ask her about this stuff, too?”

“Some sorcerers don’t like talking about their cursed techniques. But (_____) might not mind. You won’t know until you try.”

Yuuta nods shallowly. Try. He can do that—if not for himself, then for you; he can try for you. All you need from him is to accept your course of treatment; to love you is to let you curse him, completely.

“I’m a firm believer that all’s fair in love and war,” Gojo stands, stretching into Yuuta’s space to ruffle his hair. He leans down further, giving him a glimpse of his glowing eyes before sparing him a wink, “So, be a little greedy, and give it your best shot.”

#3 — Social media is the most twisted curse out there. It makes you feel so close, yet is a stark reminder of just how far you are from the person on the other end of the screen.

Yuuta has never considered himself good with technology. Even before Rika’s incident, he often felt ostracized by his peers because he didn’t have the same interest in or experience with games and cartoons. He had no reason to have a computer or a phone until enrolling at Jujutsu Tech, and there was an evident learning curve in navigating the devices. Toge often snickered watching Yuuta use his smartphone with the dexterity of a senior citizen.

He only barely set up Instagram and TikTok accounts with Toge’s help, but he doesn’t really get the idea of followers—why would people who don’t know him want to follow him? Why would he follow them? He doesn’t know many memes or jokes and even after seeing them, he doesn’t think many are all that funny, but he laughs anyway.

He doesn’t have much time to perfect his social media and meme skills, anyway. He’s dedicated to training and gaining mission experience—which pays off when Geto declares war on the school by the end of the year. Yuuta remembers how you returned his phone to him the next day, a few cracks and black, dark spots on the screen, giggling that you’d found it in the rubble, but that even your reverse cursed technique couldn’t fix its scars.

He thinks he gets the hang of it in the end—the basics of communication and the appeal behind connection with others through it—even going so far as to trade selfies with Gojo sometimes, who always seemed happy to receive them, no matter how much post-exorcism curse gunk Yuuta was covered in.

He also frequently exchanges texts with you. He much prefers to see you in person, but when you’re stuck for long hours in the ER, or away from campus on your own missions, Yuuta has grown fond of receiving your messages. He always attempts to read them in your voice and imagine your facial expressions to match those of the emojis you send. He hasn’t quite gotten the hang of those yet, doesn’t understand what Toge means when he says that not all smiley faces are created equally, so to save himself the trouble, and potential embarrassment, he’s opted to use emoticons instead. Which, if you asked him, has been working out in his favor, seeing as you call them cute.

Yuuta also uses the safety of his phone screen to implement some of Gojo’s advice; picking your brain about curses, sorcery, and healing via text message for just long enough for you to say it’s easier to explain in person to come to him and teach him in your spare time. Soon these study sessions turn into texts asking to hang out outside of class and missions and work, and Yuuta couldn’t be more elated. The screen he once scorned at seemed to be his one-way ticket to being able to talk to his favorite person constantly.

But Yuuta never thought it would become his only means of communication with you. He’s devastated when you break the news to him, over half-finished oolong tea and nervous finger-twiddling.

“You’re leaving?” He echoes, hoping he doesn’t sound too much like a heartbroken child, even though that’s exactly how he feels.

It’s quiet outside of the tea shop where you two sit, nearing seven in the evening; only the soft sounds of other customers conversing behind you two inside, distant cars on the main street, and the sound of Yuuta’s heart beating frantically.

“Not leaving leaving,” you clarify, pausing your finger twirling to place one of your hands over Yuuta’s on the table, “I’m still studying, but I’m being sent abroad for a bit.”

He should be focused on the fact that you’re touching his hand—Yuuta should be happy! Rika still cheers for you in his mind, but her voice is quieter now—but Yuuta can’t. He’s focused on everything else, spiraling about the implications of your words. You’re leaving... going away from him when things are going so well.

Yuuta was so happy when you taught him the reversed curse technique, even happier when he realized he did have the ability to heal others, knowing it also meant having the ability to help you relieve some of your burdens. That didn’t mean that he didn’t still want to give himself to you, he would if you’d have him—but now he wouldn’t have the chance.

“I haven’t told anyone else yet—Gojo only told me this morning,” you mumble, “I’m going to miss you all a lot, but we can still text every day! I don’t know how long the time difference will be, but we can FaceTime.”

It’s not lost on Yuuta that he is the first person that you’ve told about this. It’s another thing to be happy about, another little victory he never thought he’d achieve, but it’s still overpowered by the dread of you leaving him.

He blinks, placing his other hand atop yours, sandwiching them between his, “How long?” Yuuta can’t read the expression on your face, but you don’t pull your hand away. He’s glad. He didn’t think when he’d done it, but the lack of rejection feels good—your touch always feels good, reverse cursed energy or not.

“I’m… not sure—a few months at least, maybe until the end of the year,” you admit, squeezing his hand, “There are some cursed objects and scrolls they want me to help recover, and Gojo says I get to work with another Special Grade sorcerer, too.”

His hands feel so good, so warm, but everything else about Yuuta feels cold, icy with dread and fear. You’re going away for a long time, and he won’t get to see you or hear you laugh or feel your warmth while you’re gone. His sunny days are going away, and Yuuta honestly doesn’t know how many more overcast skies and rain clouds he can take.

And it’s selfish, he knows. He should be happy for you—you were chosen for this mission, for this training; you’re getting the chance to use your skills to help others, and train even further. So, why couldn’t he be happy for you? Why could he only feel a pit in his stomach about the thought of you leaving and meeting some other Special Grade who’s rightfully deserving of their title? Not only had he lost the thing that brought him to you in the first place, but you’re about to find another replacement. Sure, with or without Rika’s curse, Yuuta had become so much stronger, but what’s it worth if he couldn’t keep you by his side?

“Tsukumo is supposed to be really cool, but you’ll always be my favorite Special Grade, Yuuta,” you taunt with a smile.

Yuuta’s eyes go wide and watery with wobbly lips and flushed cheeked and sweaty palms to match. Favorite. Favorite, favorite, favorite. The word spoken in your voice rings in his head like a beautiful chime, the tones washing over him and erasing all his fear and doubt and insecurity.

You had called Yuuta your favorite. Sure, he’s still upset when he and the other first-years drop you off at the airport too weeks later, he still cries the first night you’re gone, still nearly breaks his knee trying to jump for his phone the first time that you call; but it’s okay because Yuuta is living off of the temporary high of being your favorite.

And also, because, in the end, your separation seems to have been inevitable. Not a month after everyone bids you farewell from Jujutsu Tech, Gojo tells him that he’s next on the docket to be sent abroad. He’s happy for a split second, thinking that he might get sent off to Europe where you’re still working with Tsukumo, but then Yuuta learns his true fate: studying under the tutelage of Miguel in Kenya; equal parts away from his classmates in Tokyo, and from you in Barcelona.

Whoever said distance makes the heart grow fonder was a liar and a bitch, because the favorite boy honeymoon comes to an end when Yuuta settles into his new room and makes his first call to you from Nairobi. The feeling and reality of being alone, and even further away from you finally hits him. Still, he relishes in the sound of your voice; fantasizes that when you reach for your phone to show him your new things, it’s you reaching for his hand; dreams of you laying next to him when you fall asleep on the call, and desperately wishes that he could touch you, hold you, kiss you.

He really wants to kiss you. He thinks he’s probably always wanted to kiss you, from the very moment his feelings for you started to grow; even if he couldn’t discern them at first, he knows now—Yuuta knows that he misses you like he’s never missed anyone before. The grief of losing part of Rika, and then losing his proximity to you merely weeks apart is finally catching up to him, and it’s morphing into a yearning that tugs on his heartstrings and rattles his brain.

He knows that the rate of growth of his feelings for you hasn’t been steady, but he blames you for that. You’re the reason he loves you so much, the reason he can’t sleep at night, the reason he learns how to bring Rika back—because he thinks of you, you, you, and how he lost Rika once, and he’d be a fool to lose you twice.

Yuuta thinks it’s no coincidence that your cursed technique has the ability to alter him in mind and body. You have so much ownership over him and you probably don’t even know that Yuuta has spent every single moment of his life living and breathing for you since you’ve met.

And you take his breath away yet again, when he gets to see you in Germany. Miguel is taking him to Switzerland on a classified mission, and you and Tsukumo are on your way to Austria, and by some great miracle, your layovers align. When he sees you waving to him down the long corridor in the airport, it feels like a scene straight out of his dreams. Yuuta spares no time trying to look cool or nonchalant; making a beeline to you, desperate to feel your touch after so long.

He’s breathless in those ten minutes that you’re reunited. Everything is too short, but he does his best to live in it all. He speaks a mile a minute, cramming in anything he hadn’t already revealed to you in your many late-night FaceTimes, and swallowing everything you tell him. He wants to believe that he’d made the best of what little time he had with you, but the truth is he didn’t. Because while you were smiling and hugging and telling him that you missed him, all Yuuta really wanted to do was kiss you—and if he were a smarter man, a better man, he would have.

He thinks, for a split second, that you might have wanted to kiss him too—when you rock back on your heels after saying good-bye, hesitating for just a moment, almost expectantly, before your eyes flutter away. He’ll never know, because he never asked, he never tried, he never said—only whispered, pathetically, to himself as he watches the silhouette of you and Tsukomo before you disappear for boarding, that he loves you.

He almost believes that you hear it when you turn over your shoulder after his quiet confession. Would it have been better that way—if he kissed you, or confessed in the heat of the moment—or would it be taking advantage of an otherwise beautiful moment? Yuuta will never know, and the what if tantalizes him.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens the thread of your messages. He starts typing, then stops. Backspace. Start typing. Pause. Read, re-read. Delete. Groan.

What’s the point? He can’t kiss you through the screen, and he’ll be damned if the first time he tells you that he’s in love with you is via phone call. He slumps his shoulders, and Miguel gives him a pity pat on the back. Yuuta goes to lock his phone when he sees the gray thought bubbles pop up below your last message and his entire body goes rigid in anticipation.

[received] 03:27 PM — [attachment: 1 image] — you should keep a closer eye on your things yuuta — i miss you already (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

Yuuta’s heart stops when he sees the picture of you in your seat, wearing his white uniform jacket. He doesn’t know when you snuck it away from him, but that doesn’t matter—like anything else, he would have willingly given it to you, and then some. It looks much better on you anyway, and Yuuta pinches his eyes shut for a brief moment, to swallow down the thoughts threatening to swarm his mind of you in his arms, in other clothes, in his bed.

He opens his eyes, takes a deep breath, and lets the warm, gooey feeling settle into his veins, and moves his fingers to type.

[sent] 03:38 PM — keep it, you can have anything of mine you want — i miss you more (๑′ ᴗ ‵๑)♥

You heart his messages and let him know you’re taking off soon, and putting your phone on airplane mode until you land. He’s not so confident to send a picture in return, unless you ask for it. Maybe you will, when you’re in Austria. He’ll have to work on his selfies.

He takes another once over the picture you sent, committing the idea of you in his clothes to memory. He knows the messages won’t delete themselves, but he takes a screenshot for safekeeping anyway. Maybe phones aren’t so bad, afterall.

#4 — Do not kill Itadori Yuuji. Under any circumstances. Even if some days you really feel like it. Also, sign up for a Crunchyroll subscription.

Yuuta can confidently say that his training abroad was both the most difficult and fulfilling thing he’s ever experienced. He believes that the change he’s endured is mostly good—he’s physically stronger, emotionally wiser, and overall more confident in himself and his cursed technique. One year ago, he would have been content with dying, but now he has more than enough reasons to keep living. He has people who care about him, and who would miss him if he were gone; and he’s got someone he would miss a whole bunch, too, should anything happen to them.

By miss Yuuta means that he might burn down a small town, might level a city, might flip the entire world on its axis if something were to happen to you. In his defense, he’d go to extremes for most of his friends—but for you, there’s truly nothing he wouldn’t risk.

He figured that out in his time abroad, too; came to terms with the fact that he’s selfish with his love. He loves too much, too hard, too close, and he isn’t very willing to share. He doesn’t see it as a bad thing, anymore, either—Yuuta knows now that the way he loves makes him who he is, and right now, he has the confidence to say that he likes that person, and that he loves you, undoubtedly.

So, forgive him if there’s a cloud of negative energy the size of a coach bus looming over him at the moment, because since you’ve returned to campus, Itadori Yuuji has been slobbering over you like a lovesick puppy.

Because apparently, you happen to know Itadori Yuuji—as in, since you were four and he was three, all the way up until your senior year of highschool, when you were scouted by Gojo, who, believes that you coming home from your study abroad trip would be the perfect time to reunite two best friends who hadn’t seen or heard from each other for the better part of two years—all while keeping this little reunion a secret from everybody, including you and Itadori.

A surprise, it certainly is, when the first time that Yuuta and the other second-years see you in months is on the dingy couch in the common room, under a cuddle pile of the first-years. Nobara’s arms wrapped around your left arm, body slumped against your side, Megumi’s long limbs stretching over Itadori’s torso, leaving the palm of his hand resting on your thigh. Far too close for Yuuta’s comfort. The only saving grace is that the jacket he loaned you is also spread across your lap, offering another layer between your body and his palm. And then there’s Itadori Yuuji, squished right between you and Megumi, with his head on your shoulder, his arms around your waist, and your free arm slung around his neck.

Yuuta should have been relishing in the fact that you were finally home, but all his focus is drawn to the way your position allows Itadori to cuddle right into you, to the way your arm is around his shoulder and your cheek pressed against the top of his head. You two might as well have been in your own little world, and Yuuta hates it. And, as if that’s not enough, the realization that he was not the first person to hug you or welcome you home clicks, and his anger bubbles deeper.

Next comes dread, that creeps in slowly when you and the first-years wake up, and you and Itadori go on and on and on about how surprised you were to see each other at the airport, how Itadori just assumed that when Gojo said he’d assigned them to “pick up something super special,” that he was messing with them, how you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of your precious, precious kouhai that you’d missed so dearly.

Childhood best friends brought back together through sorcery. Yuuta’s seen that one before, and he didn’t like the ending.

You and Itadori mend the gap in your friendship like two years of no contact was nothing, falling into a pattern that’s so easy and familiar, that it’s painful for Yuuta to watch. The assumption that you’d died, and the knowledge that Yuuji had actually died only served to strengthen your vows to protect each other in the name of your friendship from here on out.

Yuuta considers putting his own sword through his chest if it means you’ll swear your devotion to him. If he died, would you cry for him? Would you pray over his grave and beg for him to come back to you?—or would you find comfort in those who kept living, find solace in a friend who came back for you and can still hold you in his arms?

“Tsuna tsuna,” he hears from his left, followed by a mischievous giggle. Toge’s taunting is hardly enough to pull Yuuta out of his cloud of rage, but the blunt end of Maki’s staff is.

“Will you stop pining so damn hard?” she sneers, whipping the staff back to her side and placing a hand on her hip, “Not only is it pathetic, it’s gonna attract curses like flies to honey.”

“Why am I the only one getting hit?” He turns to his right to motion to Megumi, who seems to be brooding just as hard. Megumi respects you, but it was easy to see that he was reaching his limit on sharing his recently revived lover with someone else. Maki huffs, “Because he doesn’t have a literal cloud of darkness looming around him.”

Yuuta sighs, doing his best to reign in his feelings, but it’s pointless once he hears your laughter across the field—light and airy and sunshiney and all because of Itadori Yuuji.

What were you two talking about? If Itadori were out of the way, would you pledge yourself to Yuuta? Did he ever hold a space comparable to Itadori in your heart—would you let him?

A broken chord strikes Yuuta’s heart when he realizes that Itadori is the person you told him about last year; the person you missed so much, and you never thought you’d be able to see again; the person that Yuuta reminded you of; the person he was happy and eager to be for you. And now, in knowing Itadori, Yuuta thinks that his willingness was beautifully naive—to think that he could compare to someone like this. Itadori is light, where Yuuta is dark; he sees the best in people, where Yuuta manages to come off on the wrong foot always; he perseveres in faith and determination, where Yuuta is fueled by an anxious desire to prove, prove, prove himself to be worth something to anybody.

He can see how easy it is to love Itadori. It’s easy to cling to faith, to believe in something higher than yourself, to know that someone above can pull you up. Yuuta cannot compete where he cannot compare; he’s a shadow that engulfs you, takes you away from light, a dream that’s hard to wake up from. He could never be bright to you; his best attempt would probably drive you and him too close to the sun, martyred for love in burning flames.

Still, even in all his jealousy, Yuuta comes to the even more sobering realization that making Itadori disappear wouldn’t fix his problems. You told him he wasn’t Itadori’s replacement, but maybe that’s because he could never be him; maybe he doesn’t have to be. Yuuji could never be him, and he could never be Yuuji, but whether Yuuta likes it or not, he and Itadori are two sides of the same coin; and as such, Yuuta has, begrudgingly, grown to feel the same sense of responsibility over the younger boy that you do.

So, even though he never expected that they would both be at the mercy of your hand at the same time in this lifetime, he absolutely cannot kill Itadori Yuuji. Not only would it make you sad, but it would probably make Yuuta even sadder in the end, somehow. What a bother.

He’s about to get up—to leave, maybe go over there, he doesn’t know yet—but he stops when he hears a calm buzzing by his ear. Yuuta blinks, slowly, shoulders relaxing unconsciously, allowing the larger than normal honey-bee to land on him. He recognizes it as one of your shikigami—and even if he hadn’t, that familiar, cooling sensation that washes over him would have let him know—so, gently, he lifts a hand across his torso, allowing it to crawl onto his finger, and strum its tune.

Yuuta can feel a few more, hear them humming around him, and he closes his eyes, lets the small group of bees flutter around him and all that looming jealousy dissipates from his body.

Faintly, past the calm hum of the small swarm, Yuuta can hear the call of Yuuji’s voice, petulant, “Aw, no fair. Fushiguro, I want calming shikigami, too! Can you bring out the bunnies? Please.”

Beside him, Toge and Maki seem bemused by his newly calmed state, then amused when Megumi sighs, stands, and reluctantly pulls his hands together before a couple dozen white rabbits flood the field and hop onto Yuuji.

The buzzing grows softer, and then quiet. Briefly, Yuuta feels a bee land on his cheek, before it flies away, leaving the smell of fresh pollen in his wake, and when he blinks his eyes open again, you’re there, in front of him with a smile sweeter than anything he’s ever known.

“Hope they didn’t scare you,” you muse, waving a finger before the last bee hovering around you disappears, “You seemed upset, everything alright?”

He’s about to open his mouth to say something, anything, when he’s cut off by Itadori Yuuji once again, with one bunny on either shoulder, and three more cradled in his arms. “Hey, doesn’t (_____) totally remind you guys of Sakura!” 

Maki scoffs, albeit with amusement, as she points her staff at Yuuji’s hair. “If anyone bears resemblance to Sakura, it’s you, Itadori.” 

Yuuji actually makes an attempt to look at his own hair before chuckling. Yuuta flashes a look to Megumi, who looks equal parts exasperated and enchanted. Yuuta doesn’t get the reference, and when Inumaki starts making gestures about how Yuuji is like some Naruto guy and Yuuji screams about how Megumi resembles a Shikamaru, he becomes too afraid to ask. 

You seemed charmed at the end of the discussion, when everybody fundamentally agrees that you’re the Sakura of the group. Yuuta is far less charmed by these comparisons (and it has nothing to do with the fact that he didn’t get one). He doubts that this Sakura person can do what you can do, doubts that Sakura is even worthy enough to be compared to you, whoever she may be. 

And maybe Yuuta goes back to his room to watch several compilation videos about ships in Naruto later that day, but nobody has to know that. From what he’s gathered, Sakura is pretty cool, and even though Yuuji bears the most physical resemblance to her, he can see why everyone agrees that your healing abilities compare well to hers. Yuuta thinks you’re better, and he’s still holding out hope that there’s some other character equivalent for you that Itadori didn’t think of, that Yuuta can, just to prove that he knows you better. He doesn’t fight any comparisons between Gojo and Kakashi, though. That one honestly freaked him out a little.

If it turns out that you’re Sakura, then he should hope to be Sasuke, but Yuuta thinks this dude is kind of a dick. From the 47 minutes of scattered Naruto content that he’s consumed, he actually much prefers the dynamic between Sakura and Naruto, even if that does equate to Itadori Yuuji having a crush on you, at least you’re out of his league and chasing after somebody else.

Still, he thinks Sakura would be upset if Naruto actually died, or worse, if Sasuke actually killed him—never mind the fact that apparently he tried to kill her? Yuuta would never do that, but Sakura still seems to like Sasuke after all of that... in any case, Itadori Yuuji must live, and Yuuta must accept his fate as Sasuke reborn.

Though, to Yuuta’s understanding so far, Sasuke and Naruto are destined to duke it out and if only one of them has to survive, then maybe it’s not so bad to be this guy. Yuuta doesn’t know how it ends between them, but he thinks he could take on Itadori Yuuji if he had to. He won’t because he’s your friend, and Yuuta’s friend now, too, but if Itadori or the curse inside of him acts up, then Yuuta can at least rest assured he can put a stop to it. That’s not something he could have guaranteed a year ago, but now, he can.

Yuuta sighs, finally locking his phone and shoving his head under his blanket. He’s been knee deep in analyses about Sakura ships for the past two and a half hours now, and he’ll admit Sasuke is growing on him, but not much. His only saving grace seems to be that Sakura is madly, unconditionally in love with him; Yuuta wouldn’t mind having that kind of devotion from you. He turns to lay on his back, staring up at the blank ceiling and wonders: if it came down to saving only one of them, would Sakura pick Naruto or Sasuke... would you choose the boy who’s loved and looked up to you since you were kids, or the boy who sacrificed everything in hopes of gaining enough strength so that what happened to him never happens to anyone else.

Maybe they answer that in the series, Yuuta reasons. 720 episodes, at 20 minutes per episode... if he devotes about half-a-day to watching Naruto, then he can breeze through it in a little over two weeks, maybe sooner if he uses his weekends efficiently. That’s plausible, and by the end of it, Yuuta is certain that he’ll have the answers he needs—and even if it doesn’t, then at least, he’ll have one more thing to talk to you about.

In the end, Sakura picks Sasuke, Naruto marries somebody else, and Yuuta understands that the two were never opposites, but complements, and that Itadori Yuuji-shaped pit in his stomach dissipates. Still, about three weeks later at breakfast he makes the argument that if anything you’re more akin to Tsunade, minus the gambling addiction, and that gets him rave reactions from everyone, including you, who is more than happy to show him your new slug shikigami as a means of commemorating your new Naruto kin.

Believe that, Itadori.

#5 — None of this matters if you don’t kiss her. You have to kiss the girl—or she’ll get mad enough to the point where she’ll kiss you.

The following month comes your indictment into the Semi-Special Grade hall of responsibility. Yuuta vaguely recalls Gojo’s lecture on how people don’t really get promoted to Special Grade—it’s classification you’re born or cursed with, like himself, or Yuuji, or Tsukumo—but, you, of course, defy all odds and expand everything Yuuta knows. Nobody is surprised—Yuuta thinks everyone was among the similar thought that you were undoubtedly unique amongst your classmates, in a way that was different from him or Yuuji. Being born with a body that generates reversed cursed energy instead of cursed energy is deserving of Special Grade status if you asked him; he doesn’t know what pushed the higher-ups into finally acknowledging your skill, but he knows it’s well-past due. And while he’s happy you’re getting recognition for your efforts, Yuuta would never wish to saddle you with half of the shit the higher-ups put him through.

They better hope that Yuuta doesn’t find out that they’re plotting anything with you, lest they meet the end of his sword.

Part of your promotion entails a dual-degree program that will have you starting medical school next fall. Yuuta almost cries at the thought of you being sent away again, until you tell him that Gojo managed to pull a few strings this time—to fund everything and keep you in Tokyo.

And even though you’re not licensed to treat civilians yet, you’re already more than experienced with taking care of and healing your fellow sorcerers, which lends Shoko’s promotional gift to be a shiny new office, right across from hers. Yuuta is the first person you invite inside, and he brings you a photo of you, him, Maki, and Toge from last year—honestly, probably the only photo the four of you have together—to christen your desk, and a plaque with your name on it for the door, that he may or may not have fantasized about it reading with your first name and his last name on it instead.

To no surprise, your office becomes a safe haven of sorts. Yuuta would define any time or place with you as a safe haven, but there’s something special about this place. Maybe Yuuta is still leaping from this being the second time you’ve chosen him. He’s the first person to see your office, the first person to sit at your chair, your first official patient when he stubs his toe against the corner of your desk (where he left the first decorative object). Maybe it’s a little far to say that this place has him all over it as much as it does you, but Yuuta likes the sound of that.

When he comes back from gruesome missions, he’s invited to let himself in, no matter how much blood he’s covered in, and you’ll be there to take care of him. It’s not different than before—not different than even last year when he’d waddled in your shadow to the room across the hall and sat down with heart palpitations while you fixed his wrist—but something about this feels special. It holds a different weight than hanging out in your dorm or cooking together in the kitchen; this office is yours, the things you say and do to him here are confidential, the yearning for and almost-kisses you almost have are for you and him alone; within these four walls, you’re free to curse him completely.

So, he’s understandably upset when your office becomes a cozy corner for the other students as well. Maki likes to take refuge inside to study alone, Panda and Toge have been caught on more than one occasion attempting to wrap gauze around each other like zombies, Megumi uses your supplies and basic first-aid lessons to prepare small kits for him and the other first-years, hell, even Gojo has been found asleep in your office on more than one occasion. He gets why people are drawn to you like a magnet, why you’re comforting, and welcoming, and a source of warmth for them, but that doesn’t mean that Yuuta likes to share you. It’s much harder to almost-kiss you this way.

He must have pouted loud enough about it, because shortly after, instead of inviting Yuuta to your office for lunch, you ask him to meet you on the field. Not one to question you, he obeys, and soon, instead he’s met with an entirely new safe haven, sitting criss-cross inside your domain with all your shikigami slithering and fluttering and buzzing about him. A butterfly lands on his nose, and Yuuta’s nose crinkles. You lean in to let it crawl on your finger instead, and don’t lean too far back when you slowly begin to explain to him the intricacies of your domain and how it all comes together.

It’s amazing, surely. Yuuta listens as best he can, but it’s hard when there’s a halo of butterflies around you, and a symphony of bees buzzing in his ear, and a slug kissing at his hand, and a snake coiling around his body and gently massaging his muscles, and your voice sound so soft and warm, and you look so pretty and, and, and he wants to kiss you again.

He wants to kiss you really badly. He wonders if that’s part of your domain—honestly, he’d wondered if that magnetic, honey-like attraction he has to you is in any part influenced by your healing nature—wonders if the confines of your space exacerbates the flow of blood to his heart and his cheeks and his—

“Are you listening?” you question, that glowing, addictive smile on your face, “You know I can make the snake bite, the bees sting.”

God, Yuuta wants to kiss you. He wants to live in the spring garden of your love forever, and ever, and roll around in the grass and drink honey with you, and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you. You could keep him here forever, he’d be perfectly content with living his days wrapped up in your curse.

Yuuta shakes his head to snap out of his daydream, disrupting a few butterflies in the process. “I—sorry,” he apologies, “I’m listening now.”

You hum, folding your legs underneath your knees and sitting before him. Yuuta’s certain he looks slightly ridiculous, covered head to toe in animals and small insects and burning underneath your gaze—wasn’t this domain supposed to help people feel better? Is there no cure for lovesickness that you can use on him—or, at the very least, embarrassment?

“I asked you why you won’t kiss me.”

Yuuta knows that if he weren’t in your domain right now, he would have fallen to a sudden death. “I—I, um,” words, Yuuta, words; a bee lands on his cheek, he takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry.”

That doesn’t seem like the right answer, judging by the twist of your lips. Of course it’s not—because it’s a lie, and you know it, and you know he knows that you know it. How could he be sorry for wanting you, for spending every last waking moment breathing for you, hoping that you’ll end his laborious breaths and pour air into him yourself?

“You know, I brought you in here to make sure that you wouldn’t run or pass out on me,” you confess, reaching out your hand towards him; the tip of your finger barely grazes his cheek as you allow the bee to crawl onto you, “I worry about your heart more than I should.”

You flick your finger gently, allowing the bee to flutter freely and your eyes to focus back on Yuuta’s, “Right now, in this domain, it’s mine to control. To stop, to beat.” It’s yours outside of here, too; to fix, to break. He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows. “Why won’t you let me have it, Yuuta?”

Yuuta gasps, and despite his surprise, despite his extreme lovesickness, despite his dark desires, his heartbeat remains steady, his body remains perfectly tempered and cool, his voice resonates clearly—all because of you.

“You’ve always had it,” he confesses, “Always. From the moment I met you.”

He can’t read your expression. He’s suddenly hyper aware of the power struggle here; domain aside, you can hear everything about him, sense the slightest physiological change in him, alter any one of his bodily functions at your whim and Yuuta doesn’t know what goes on in you. Would it be wrong to confess that he likes it; that this feels like you having him, that he likes knowing you can take him?

“I thought so, maybe,” you enlighten him, “Last year with all the calls and texts,” you lean over and set free a butterfly from his shoulder, “And then in the airport,” then guiding the snake to coil around your arm and around your torso, “And then I thought maybe you’d have said something when you were jealous of Yuuji,” this time your hand touches him, a feather-light touch to his elbow, “But you didn’t, and I was beginning to wonder if I was hearing your heart beat for someone else, instead.”

Yuuta grabs at your hand erratically, “No—no. Never.”

He’s senselessly in love with you, and if it weren’t for your healing hands, Yuuta’s certain his ribs would have cracked from the pressure of his happy heart by now; but then again, maybe he should ask you to let it break—let that fracture serve as an entry point for you and yours, to prove to you that it beats for you and you alone.

“So then what is with you? You have a habit of giving girls your heart and not kissing them, or asking them out—is it always straight to marriage with you?”

It’s torture hearing that word fall from your lips. He doesn’t have time to even begin to process it. Yuuta’s eyes flicker to the smile on your lips, the slight tilt of your head. He says something he shouldn’t, “Would you be opposed to that?”

“I’d like a kiss first,” you tease, “Would you give me one?”

And how could he ever deny you anything. There, with a harmony of beautiful insects and warm sunlight, Yuuta finally, finally, takes the last move forward to kiss you. It’s everything he wants and exactly as he’d imagined—he can feel the rush in his bones, the want in his stomach, the love against his skin when you fall into him.

It’s one kiss, and another, and then Yuuta can feel your tongue against his, greedily falling into the rush of you. He’s everywhere, hands on your neck, lips on yours, body stradling yours when he carefully leans you backwards; Yuuta has you, and you have him, and he won’t let this moment go to waste. He pulls away for a moment, only a moment, to take in your kiss-swollen lips and commit this vision to memory. He’ll have to take another visual photograph outside of your domain, when your bodies are free to breathe erratically and equilibrium is broken so you and truly, truly, feel all of Yuuta’s love in earnest.

He wonders if it’s the effect of your domain that prevents his nerves from running haywire when you take off his shirt, when you let him take off your pants, when you have your hands on his chest and his on your hips. It must be. Yuuta knows for certain that otherwise, he’d be a blushing mess of fumbling limbs and stuttering words.

Still, Yuuta thinks, domain or no domain, he wouldn’t let this moment pass him. It’s not nerves when his hand brushes over your clothed clit and he hears you moan—even if it had been, that would have been the antidote to his poison. Lust, pressure, possession wash over him in excruciating waves. He wants more. He wants you.

Impatience when he adds pressure with his hand, bliss when you buck your hips to add more of your own, greedily grinding against his fingers. Yuuta kisses you again, swallows your moans and feeds you his own when slips his hand past the barrier of your underwear, and he feels your warm, wet cunt against his fingertips for the first time, and when he pushes two fingers into your heat, he thinks he could cum right then and there, from this alone.

“Yu—Yuuta, more,” you plead. Your hand on his neck, fingernails scraping into his skin that should leave a mark. They probably won’t. He’ll be sure that next time they stick.

And Yuuta, unable to deny you anything, obeys. He curls his fingers inside of you, thrusting gently at first, and then with more confidence—and warning, when he hears you snarl about not teasing. Ironic, he thinks, as he watches your lips fall open, since you’ve had him strung along since day one.

“I wanna—wanna cum with you inside,” you moan, a sound that Yuuta promises to commit to memory. Later, when his brain is working better, and the coil in his stomach isn’t so tight, and you’re not clenching around his fingers.

You’re greedy, and Yuuta’s never realized it. You suck him in and still want more, and you must know that he’ll give it to you. It should serve as a warning, you have the high-ground to take him any which way you want—for a fool, for granted, for yourself, for nobody else; so what does it say about him that it only spurs his arousal, that it makes him impossibly hard and he can feel himself leaking from the thought of it.

“I want that, too,” he reassures you, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, because you’re perfect for him, “But I want this first. Give me this first, please. Please.”

He thinks you might cry. The rational part of him knows you can regulate it, that you probably won’t; the sick part of him wants to see it, wants to know what it takes to make you lose control.

You call his name like a prayer, once, twice, and on the third time, Yuuta can feel it as much as he can hear it. He can feel the moment that your walls clench, and your eyes screw shut, and your body convulses around him. You’re beautiful, irreverent, and Yuuta thinks that being responsible for this is the greatest achievement of his life.

He wears your orgasm with pride, raking over you as you blink your eyes open to him again. You’re lucid too quickly, he really is going to have to take the time to enjoy this somewhere less controlled later, eagerly wrapping your hand around his wrist and forcing them to his mouth. Yuuta groans when he tastes you on his tongue, nothing short of euphoric, and he’s sure to taste every last drop.

You smile, and then laugh—an almost inaudibly giggle that has Yuuta smiling back reflexively. Like always, he follows your every move and succumbs to all your whims when you lean up to kiss him, and then coax off his pants and underwear, and line the tip of his dick up with your slit and pull him in, again, by the neck to bite at his ear, “Come on, Yuuta. Give it to me.”

An order, a promise, a plea—Yuuta vows to fulfill them all, determined and spell-bound when he sinks into you. He can only imagine what it feels like for you, but for him it’s warm, wet, soft, snug, sticky—like honey, like a bee drawn to sweetness. It’s good, too good, Yuuta doesn’t know how to last when you feel this good.

He can feel you everywhere, around his dick, your hands on his back, your breath on his cheek, your skin against his. He feels stuck to you, stuck in you, mind, body, and soul as one, unable to differentiate him from you, from you, from you.

“Fuck,” Yuuta stares, carefully swiping a thumb over your browbone, conscious but not in command on how deep he’s thrusting into you, “You’re so—fuck, I love you.” He wants to hear you say it back, he needs to, he has to. He can feel it again, stomach in knots, and nerves on fire, and skin sticky, and Yuuta has to know—“Please, please. Do you love me, too?”

You stutter, only from the rock of his hips into yours, reaching for his face and cradling it between healing hands, “Of course I love you, Yuuta.” His mouth opens, wobbly, and tears flow over his eyes—briefly, Yuuta thinks that it’s cruel that you’d let him cry; that you have command over every function in his body and that you’d let him cry, but he can’t bring himself to be upset. He’d probably have cried regardless, because hearing you say that you love him is a rush comparable only to burning tightness in his gut right now.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling his lips to yours when you finally let go together. Yuuta can feel you tight around him, when he cums; and an unfiltered harmony of moans and skin on skin when he lays on top of you, sinks into you. Your hands don’t leave his hair, and Yuuta finds bliss in your affection, in being in your arms, in being yours.

He doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, he doesn’t know if physical time passes in your domain, but it doesn’t matter. He’d stay here forever with you, let you use the full extent of your prowess to eat his heart out as sustenance, bleed for you to quench your thirst. He’d be everything you need and more; he’ll make sure that he’s all you want when it’s done and over.

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eomayas · 11 months

Text

cream soda • bbh [req]

pairing: idol!baekhyun x MUA!reader

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!! fluff

synopsis: reader is a makeup artist for exo and likes baekhyun in eyeshadow, and he notices

warnings: p in v, pwp (slow burn), teasing, fingering, pet names (baby & good girl), baekhyun being sexy in eyeshadow

a/n: i got 3 different smut requests for cream soda teaser #1 baekhyun 😭 so here you go i hope you all like it! thank you for the requests and support 🩷

his eyeshadow smudges easily due to your hands being shaky. you hope he doesn’t notice, but doubt that he does because he’s busy tapping away at his phone. you swallow and keep working the brush over his eye, blending out the dark colors to create a smoky eye.

you allow yourself to sneak glances at him while he’s preoccupied with his phone. every so often, you’ll glance at him through the mirror, pretending you’re fixing your own appearance but really you’re looking at him.

“okay,” you say, setting the brush down and leaning back from him. “i think i’m done.” you say. he looks up from his phone and gives you a smile. your stomach flips and you swallow thickly, glancing away from him for a brief moment.

“you think? how do i look?” he ask, leaning around you to examine himself in the mirror before settling back with his gaze on you. he looks sexy, edible, and if you had a different relationship, maybe you’d tell him so.

“you look nice, baekhyun,” you say, keeping your true thoughts and feelings to yourself. he smiles quizzically up at you, running a hand through his hair.

“just nice?” he’s playing with you now, you can see it in his features and hear it in his tone. your pulse quickens—he’s figured you out. was it that obvious? you don’t know—you feel caught, cornered. “cause i think i look good.” he adds, the emphasis on the word “good” making you let out a breath. so maybe he hadn’t caught you and figured you out. maybe your thoughts weren’t written across your forehead.

you nod curtly and step away from him, turning around to fix your station. “you do,” you say quietly. you hear baekhyun shift behind you, his presence looming over you. again, your stomach flips and you make the mistake of looking up into the mirror where he’s already looking at you, a smirk on his face.

“what was that?” baekhyun asks, a knowing look on his face. your cheeks burn and you snap the makeup box closed and sidestep away from him, putting a healthy gap of distance between the two of you.

“they’re waiting on you,” you say, not meeting his eye. luckily his name is shouted and he actually has to leave, so you’re able to slump against the counter and catch your breath. you’re always paired up with baekhyun for styling, and recently your interactions have gotten more and more…tense.

you don’t know if you should call it a crush because you’re both professionals, and your job would be on the line. but you’ve always had a thing for him and his silly, flirty ways. he’s always kind to you, asking how you’re doing and seeming truly interested. he’s been like this since you first started working as a makeup artist for exo, teasing and joking with you while you worked on his face. you were bound to catch feelings for him with the way you saw him constantly and the interactions you had.

after cleaning up your station, you assist anybody else who needs their makeup done. the rest of exo has always been kind as well, but you don’t have a similar relationship with them like you do with baekhyun. they’re all polite and professional, and don’t teeter too close to the edge of flirting under the guise of a joke with you.

when you finish helping out, you decide to walk around the set to busy yourself. baekhyun is still getting his photos taken, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you look over at him from afar. baekhyun is attractive, simply put. he’s confident and playful, but right now he’s flat out sexy.

you find yourself skulking over close to the shoot, standing a few feet behind the photographer. you watch baekhyun, unable to take your eyes off of him as he smizes at the camera. he captures the attention of everybody, the other staff members oohing and aahing him as he poses for the camera. if you had half a brain, you’d probably join in, but, professionalism.

you’re snapped out of your baekhyun daze when your name is yelled with authority. “y/n! we need touch ups!” you blink yourself back to reality, looking up and finding everybody looking at you, including baekhyun. he has a smirk on his face, and you feel heat creeping up your neck and face. you part your lips, ready to apologize, but nothing comes out. instead, you rush over to your station to retrieve your brushes.

sidling up to baekhyun, you examine his face, forcing your brain to be in work mode. he talks above your head to one of his members, twisting his head everywhere you don’t need him to be. “baekhyun, could you…” you trail off, biting your bottom lip. “baekhyun.” you say louder and as he turns to you, you catch his chin in your hand to steady his face to do your work.

baekhyuns eyes stay laser-focused on you. you swallow nervously and gently dab at his face, fixing whatever smudges he’s accrued ever since he started shooting. “your hands are shaking,” he murmurs, and you quickly let go of his chin, your grip on the powder press tightening between your fingers. “are you nervous?” he asks, leaning down a bit closer—too close. but legend has it that it makes it easier for you reach him.

“no,” you lie, gently tilting his head to the other side. you go to remove your hand from his jaw, but captures your wrist and keeps it there. your breath hitches in your throat, and you glance around the set to see if anybody is watching. “baekhyun, wh-what are you d-doing?” you stammer, frozen in place.

“helping you. this makes it easier, right? if i move?” he makes a dramatic example of pulling his face away from your hand and moving his head around wildly, before placing it back in your hold, and trying to move to show the differences.

he smiles at you, his cheek resting nicely in your palm. under different circumstances, you feel he might kiss. hell, you feel like he might still, with his close proximity and the way you catch his eyes flick down to your lips quickly.

you blink away your feelings and his gaze, and quickly finish up his face. “done,” you say, letting go of his face and taking a step back.

“do i still look nice?” he jokes, straightening and look down at you. you blush and glance away from him, nodding your head.

“yes, baekhyun, you do,” you say. he chuckles and shuffles away, going back to pose for the camera. you take one last look at him and sigh, your heart slamming against your ribcage.

you’re afforded a break, but before you leave to go out, you pick up your station again. you move slowly so you’ll have more time to yourself, organizing your brushes and foundations by color. you wipe up the counter with disinfecting wipes, even the chair, just to kill time.

picking up the box you keep your supplies in, you walk it over to the storage closet and take your time in there too. it doesn’t need to be organized by any means; any open space on the shelves will work, but you decide to arrange it next to the other staff members items, alphabetizing it properly.

a knock at the door makes you jump and you freeze for a second, praying it’s not your boss or one of the managers coming to yell at you for taking too long to go on your break. you gulp and gingerly step away from the shelf, grabbing the knob to open the door. to your relief, it’s not your boss. but to your surprise, it is baekhyun.

“yes?” you say, gripping onto the door for dear life. you look up at him with wide eyes, shock written all over your face. he smirks at you and you wish he would stop, because all day it’s made you feel things and now that he’s here, in a tiny closet with you and nobody else, you feel exposed.

“i just need some makeup wipes,” he says, leaning forward on his toes. you look up at him, slightly dumbfounded. he could have asked any other person on the set for those—they’re everywhere.

“oh, okay,” you say, turning around and grabbing your box. baekhyun steps inside the closet behind you and you glance at him over your shoulder when the door closes. you two lock eyes and you start to feel hot, chest and face burning now that you’re completely alone.

you clumsily open your makeup box and a few things spill out. “i got it,” he says when you start to bend down. you squeak out a ‘thanks’ and dig pull out the makeup wipes.

when you turn around, you’re met with his exposed chest and the necklaces that rest nicely on it. your feet stay rooted to the floor and eyes stuck on his clavicle, unable to move with how close he is. your chest moves up and down faster than you’d like, nearly touching his with the pace you’re breathing.

“here you go,” he says, his voice low and deeper than before. your eyes drag up his neck, up his jaw to his lip and nose, and finally to his eyes. your breath gets taken away with how he looks, especially with his dark eye makeup.

baekhyun wiggles the fallen brush in his hand, like he’s teasing you. you pluck it from his fingers, the brush shaking between your thumb and forefinger. you offer him the pack of makeup wipes in return, and place the brush back in it’s proper place.

your heartbeat rings in your ears. the tension is thick in the room, and you can’t turn back around to face him. you can barely handle him in public, and now that here’s here with you, alone, you’re not sure you’re going to last.

“y/n,” you feel him behind you, mere centimeters away. if you turn, you’ll bump into him—that’s how small this room is and how close he is to you. you audibly suck in a breath and wring your fingers together in front of you.

turning around, your shoulder comes in contact with his hard chest. he’s closer than ever, looming over you. his makeup is still on, but he holds a wipe in his hand. he extends it to you and you look down at it before meeting his eyes. “you want me to do it?” you ask. you’ve done it countless times before, but it’s different now, because he sought you out. and, again, you’re alone.

he nods. “yes,” he says. you take the makeup wipe and clutch it in your hand. you expect him to lean forward, but he doesn’t so you grab his face like you did before, your eyes roaming everywhere but his. “am i making you uncomfortable?” he asks as you start wiping one side of his face, saving the eyeshadow for last so you can bask in his sexiness for awhile longer.

“no,” you reply honestly.

“are you sure?” he asks.

you nod. “it’s not the word i would use to describe how i feel right now,” your voice is quiet, but he hears you perfectly. you feel him smirk underneath your palm and your stomach flips.

“no?” you shake your head. “what word would you use to describe how you’re feeling, then?” he asks. you slide your eyes to his, your hand stilling against the side of his face. his eyes urge you to respond, to tell him how you feel and you want to, you really do.

baekhyun drags his eyes down to your mouth and let’s them stay there for a moment, making it so obvious compared to earlier when you caught him. “baekhyun…” you say, your voice hoarse.

“that’s my name,” he mumbles, eyes back on yours. your lips part, unsure of what to say, or what’s really going on between the two of you. his face is mostly done, sans for his nose and his eye makeup. you close your mouth and get back to work, ignoring the storm happening in your head.

you let out a small sigh as you get to his eyes, barely rubbing off the makeup. “you like it,” he says matter-of-factly. you only nod and keep gently wiping away at his eyes.

“it looks nice,” you compliment. baekhyun softly grabs onto your elbow, halting your movements.

“then leave it on,” he says. you press your lips together and let your arm fall to your side, the other hand still resting on his cheek. he looks into your eyes deeply, and you manage to keep your eyes on him for the first time today. his eyes go back down to your mouth and he lets out a breath. “can i kiss you?” he asks and the question catches you so off guard that you take a step backwards, dropping your hand from his face.

“w-what?” you stutter. baekhyun sobers immediately straightening up and putting some distance between the two of you.

“y/n, im sorry. i didnt mean to make you uncomfortable—shit, fuck—i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to overstep,” he reaches for the handle and you panic. you didn’t step away from him because he made you uncomfortable, you were just shocked at his forwardness. he doesn’t know how badly you want him to kiss you.

“baekhyun, wait,” you say, grabbing his hand. the doorknob stills in his hand as he looks at you, at your hand holding onto his. “i’m not uncomfortable.” you say, looking into his eyes to emphasize that this really is okay. “i… you can kiss me. i want you to.” you say, swallowing the lump on your throat.

baekhyuns shoulders relax, rolling back. “are you sure?” he asks.

“yes.”

he closes the distance between you, taking your face between his hands. he looks down at you with an intense stare that has your knees getting weak. baekhyun strokes your cheek softly with his thumb before dipping his head down and pressing his sweet lips to yours.

you’re breathless again, your hands finding purchase on his forearms to hold yourself steady. he kisses you slowly, like he’s waiting for you to pull back at any second. you want more, so you skip your tongue into his mouth, baekhyun catching on quickly and letting go of your face to grab you by the waist and pull you closer.

your arms are around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. you can’t really believe that you’re kissing him—it feels surreal.

but you know it’s not when he groans against your lips. “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this,” he says, biting your bottom lip, holding it between his teeth for a moment before letting it go and looking at you with dark eyes.

you’re unsure of how to respond; if you should be honest and tell him the same or play it cool. you decide to just kiss him, hoping he understands that you feel the same if you weren’t doing a good job at conveying it earlier.

you and baekhyun get caught in a weird space, his hands sliding up and down your body, groping your ass but never trying to do anything more than that. he keeps his lips on you, never trying to kiss your neck and you do the same. baekhyun is playing everything safe, offering you an out at every chance. a part of you wants to just tell him that he can do whatever he wants with you, to you, but the other wants to keep it in this space, to not complicate it. but you really can’t help yourself, not when you have him like this.

you move your lips from his mouth to his jaw and down his neck, kissing every inch of exposed skin that his open shirt gives you. you silently thank his stylists and whoever created this outfit.

you kiss down his chest, your hands moving to unbuckle the belt that holds his flimsy shirt together. you fumble with it for a moment before you manage to get it off, and baekhyun makes no move to help you. he likes seeing you eager and desperate for him, because he feels the exact same way.

his shirt falls open and you drag your hands down his chest, tracing your fingertips over the ridges of his abs. you drag your hands down lower, stopping at the waistband of his pants that rest an inch below his belly button. “what do you want to do, y/n?” he asks you, pulling your closer to him by your ass.

you only shrug. you’ll do anything. “whatever you want,” you say, meaning it. baekhyun pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head slightly. he can’t believe this moment, you. and he doesn’t know what he wants more, you on your knees or him buried deep inside of you, watching you fall apart on him.

baekhyun reconnects your lips, this time kissing you with more want. his fingers work quickly to unbutton your pants and shove his hand down the front of you, pressing his fingers against your clothed core. wetness coats the center and his chest swells with pride when your lips part to let out a gasp when he starts rubbing the material into you.

he kisses on your neck and pushes your pants down farther so he can have more access to you. pushing your panties to the side, baekhyun slips two fingers between your folds and you widen your stance, desperate for his touch. a quiet groan leaves your lips when he slides his fingers into your soaking core, your gummy walls inviting him in easily.

you pant as he works his fingers into you. your hands hold onto his shoulders and you lurch forward when he adds another finger into the mix, his thumb rubbing on your clit as hell. “baek- shh,” he says lowly, kissing your lips to keep your quiet. your clench around his fingers and moan against his mouth. “keep quiet, baby. don’t want to get caught, do you?” the use of the pet name makes you whimper and baekhyun narrows his eyes at you.

“s-sorry,” you squeak, putting one of your own hands against your mouth to quiet yourself. your strain, but it’s muffled enough for baekhyuns satisfaction and he keeps working his fingers in and out of you. he rubs at your clit and that familiar knot in the pit of your stomach tightens. your grab onto his shoulder tighter, hoping he understands that you’re close to reaching your climax.

you squeeze his fingers and baekhyun nips at your neck. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby? are you gonna cum for me? all over my fingers?” he mumbles in your ear, gently biting your earlobe. his voice and his words, and the fact that he keeps calling you baby are enough to send you over the edge, squeezing your eyes shut as you release all over his fingers. “that’s right, just like that. good girl.” you don’t like to imagine how pathetic you look when you throw yourself around him, resting your face in his shoulder and gently biting him to quiet yourself.

baekhyun pulls his fingers out of you and you sigh at the loss of contact. you manage to stand up on your shaky legs, holding onto one of the shelves for support. he starts to unbutton his pants but sops himself to look up at you. “i’m on birth control. and i’m clean,” you say quickly and he gives you a small smile.

“good to know, and so am i,” he says, pulling down his pants. you can’t help but gawk at the bulge in his underwear, your mouth falling open at the sheer size. you hastily step out of your pants and panties, kicking them over to the side when he’s undressed as well.

baekhyun pushes you into the wall at the back of the closet and hikes one of your legs around his hip. he lines himself himself up with you and pushes himself in, your arousal working as a lubricant and easily letting him slip inside.

you mewl out his name and he clamps a hand over your mouth. “i need you to be quiet for me,” he says, starting to thrust into you. “can you do that for me, baby? fuck.” baekhyun drives his hips into you and buried his face into the crook of your neck to muffle his own moans. unlike you, he’s more successful at keeping quiet.

all to be heard is deep breathing and skin on skin. you pray it’s not loud enough to be heard through the door, for somebody could walk in on baekhyun balls deep inside of you.

you bite down on baekhyuns palm and he pulls his hand back to shove his fingers into your mouth instead, forcing you to suck on them while he slams into you. you look at him with wide eyes and he curses, tossing his head back and hiking your leg up higher to get a slightly different angle.

his fucks into you relentlessly, chasing his own release and trying to get you to your second. you’re losing it on top of him, spit all around his fingers and some on your chin. his dark eyes look down at you and you keen at him, wanting so badly to have his lips on you again. but he can’t risk you being loud, and you can’t hold it back.

“shit, baby, i’m close. are you?” you nod and he grunts as he speeds up his thrusts. you bring a hand down to your messy core and rub at your sensitive clit, more spit leaking out of your mouth as you moan at the overwhelming feeling. “fuckfuckfuckfuck-“ baekhyun clenches his jaw as he releases into you.

he fills you up, ropes of his cum coating your insides as he stays buried in you. “fuck, you took me so well, baby,” you cum shortly after him, your arousal mixed with his own dripping down your legs. baekhyun pants and drops your leg from around his hip and you stumble, catching yourself on a shelf. “shit, you alright? can you walk?” he asks, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and then removing himself from inside of you.

“i dont know,” you whine, wanting more of him. but you both know it’s time to go back out. your break is probably almost up anyway, and you still need to eat.

baekhyun finds paper towels and cleans you up. you keep your eyes on him as he wipes in between your thighs. you almost sigh at the beautiful sight before you; his soft brown eyes a dark contrast to the dark eye makeup that’s still mainly intact. his hands and gentle beneath you and you wonder if this will last, or if after this moment you two will go back to what you had before, before this moment. or worse, if it’ll be like nothing ever happened; not this moment, or anything that came before it.

as if he can hear your thoughts, he looks up at you and gives you a small smile. he places a soft kiss on your lips and you hold him close for an extra beat. “that was fun,” he says, and just like that he’s back to being himself, not the same man that just stuck his fingers in your mouth and fucked you silly.

you nod, a small smile on your face to match his own. “we should do it again,” he says, picking up your clothes and handing them to you. it’s a silly thing to smile about, but you can’t help it. if this is how you see him again, outside of work, then fine. you’ll take what you can get.

“okay,” you say, stepping into your underwear and pants. baekhyun quickly redresses and waits for you by the door. you look up and see him holding the belt that goes around his shirt, in his hands. it’s not your job, but you take it from him and help him anyway because you would if you were out on the set right now.

“what are you doing later?” he asks as you fasten the belt around his torso. you, i hope, you think. but you just shrug and look up at him. he smiles and places a hand on your cheek. “i’ll pick you up at seven, then.”

and that’s how you get your first date with byun baekhyun.

#exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo x reader #exo x you #exo smut #baekhyun x you #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun smut #baekhyun imagine

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tyonfs · 1 year

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the marriage and baby project (teaser)

PAIRING ▸ mark lee x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, college au, fake dating (marriage?) au

SUMMARY ▸ mark lee has had the biggest crush on you for years, so, naturally, he’s over the moon when you’re both partnered for a group project. however, he underestimates just how close two people can get when they have to pretend they’re married for a month while taking care of a fake baby.

ESTIMATED WORD COUNT ▸ 8k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ the dunk shot series is not dead guys :’) sorry this series was sort of at a standstill for a bit but here’s the teaser for mark’s installment !! ♡ send me an ask or comment if you want to be on the tag list! (warnings will be added in the final fic)

THE ONLY REASON WHY MARK TOOK FAMILY AND CONSUMER SCIENCE WAS BECAUSE his friends told him it would be an easy A for a general education requirement he needed to fulfill. No one clued him in on having to become a married man and father.

“Hi, Mark,” you greeted with a smile, sliding into the seat next to him. “I guess I’m Y/N Lee for the next few weeks.”

He felt his heart drop to his stomach.

Here was a brief rundown: you were essentially a femme fatale, a drop-dead gorgeous it-girl; and Mark was a loser who was somewhat good at playing basketball. On top of that, Mark harbored the biggest crush on you since forever.

Forever dated back to high school. Although Mark never spoke to you much, he had always thought you were the most breathtaking individual he had ever seen. That was probably why he was malfunctioning right now. He had never gotten the opportunity to be around you like this, mostly because you were dating Vernon Chwe up until last year. All he could do was admire from afar helplessly, eyes lingering as you strode down hallways.

Chenle told him that there was a definite shelf life on relationships like yours and Vernon’s—relationships that were mostly physical—so he was confident you two wouldn’t last. And he was right. When you and Vernon broke up, Mark felt bad seeing your sad eyes, but an ugly part of him had been waiting for it to happen.

This situation, however, was like winning the lottery. Not only was he partnered up with you, but he had to play the role of your husband? Things like this never really happened to Mark, so he figured some misfortunate was coming his way soon.

“Hey, Y/N,” he managed to get out.

“Come up and get your babies,” the professor instructed. “These RealCare infant simulators use wireless programming to track and report on your behaviors, which is why I had you all sign those consent forms.” She held up one of the dolls for everyone to see. “I’m not gonna require you all to keep your dolls in a car seat, but I will be able to see records of misuse, clothing changes, temperature changes, whether you’ve rocked, fed, or burped your baby, or respond to its cries.”

Great. He had to walk around campus with a plastic baby. Mark’s friends were never going to let him live this down.

He wondered if the RealCare infant could play basketball.

He turned to face you again. “Do you want a boy or girl?”

“Mark Lee,” his professor chided, and he nearly jumped when saw her standing right beside his desk. “You don’t get to choose the gender of your child in real life, so I’ll be randomly assigning each couple a baby.”

“I don’t think we’ve considered the possibility of gene editing.”

“You can take that up with Congress.”

GENERAL TAG LIST ▸ @papiiimark @jaehy9ngs @chanluster @jjhmk @marksflute @superhajimark @jeongyoonohs @marklexleaf @dnylwoo @kpop-bambi @miyrisa @jjikyuu @venesiun @seventeeneration @chenosaurus16 @kylomeyon @infnteen @ohmarkly @weish5n @thejeongjaehyun @lovesjenmoong @infnteen @wownajaemin @haruharux23 @pewpewpwe00 @scxrlettkx @pckeia @keijikunn @sapiowoman28 @atiny-doodles @loki-in-hogwarts @baekhyuns-lipchain @repjaehyn @chan-s-laptop @jen0zen @michplusb @yutassecrettime @minkis-simp @dreamyyang @catscoffeeandkpop @ahgastayzen @ryu-naa

#mark smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct scenarios #mark scenarios #mark x reader #mark lee smut #mark lee #mark lee x reader #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct oneshots #nct dream oneshots #mark oneshots #mark imagines #nct hard hours

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bobohu4eva · 4 months

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Illicit Affairs

Characters: Idol!Baekhyun x trainee/idol!Reader

Genre: smut, angst

Warnings: explicit unprotected sex, virgin sex, significant age gap, problematic relationship dynamics, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way representative of a healthy relationship

WC: 9.7k (trust me it needed to be that long)

A/N: Heavily inspired by the song, although the forbidden nature of the relationship is interpreted more as dealing with the age difference and dynamic, rather than being a result of infidelity. I definitely recommend giving it a listen before reading further.

Masterlist

He was one of the last people you met after becoming a trainee, but he was the one you'd been thinking about meeting the most.

Baekhyun was the reason you decided to become a singer. He was the person that made you fall in love with music and singing ten years ago, so when you finally bumped into him in person, it left you breathless and flustered.

He was even more gorgeous than you could've expected, and you'd already met many other idols by then. You'd been waiting for your vocal lesson one evening, and he was the person who went right before you. When his lesson ended, he walked out of the soundproof room, and he was standing right in front of you.

The image of him you'd always had in your mind, based on the countless pictures and videos you'd seen of him throughout the years, couldn't compare at all. With him directly before you, in person, he looked so much better than you ever could've imagined. He was just wearing a black tshirt and sweats, no makeup, hair unstyled and even a bit messy, but you still had to fight off the urge to stare. He was quite a bit taller than you, and you could see the muscle definition in his chest and arms under the plain black shirt. Everything about him was just so perfectly shaped, to you. From his familiar but still somehow surprisingly handsome face, to his broad shoulders, down to his waist and hips. If you found him attractive before meeting him in person, you were down badly now.

It was so natural and sweet how he greeted you, asking if you were new, and wishing you the best for your trainee journey. Of course you thanked him, but he could easily see how much the sudden meeting had shaken you up, so he kept it brief.

From then on, you saw him there every week before your lesson, and found yourself looking forward to it every time. The greetings became short conversations, and eventually you even told him how he'd been the one to inspire you back in the day to also be a singer and eventually audition. You would never forget how those words made his face light up.

“Really? Back then I had no idea what I was doing, I'm still surprised by how much people seemed to like me. It means a lot to hear that.”

He had one of those special kinds of smiles that you only see a few times in your life. It made you feel seen, appreciated, like to him, you were the only other person that mattered. He had that kind of energy about him.

All you could think to do was blush and smile back. Being around him was almost like some sort of high to you, the way your heart pounded and you got butterflies in your stomach.

Finally your voice teacher popped his head out the door, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I've got a bit of a cold. We'll keep it short today.”

Without missing a beat, Baekhyun spoke up. “If you need to take the night off I can take over her lesson.” He turned towards you, “Would you be okay with that?”

Your eyes grew wide and your mouth opened slightly, but no words came out, so you just nodded.

“You sure?” The teacher said, “That would be great, thank you.”

“Of course, it's already pretty late, you should get some rest.”

So, you were left with Baekhyun teaching your lesson for the evening. You were still dumbfounded as he led you back into the small soundproof room, and asked what you had learned in last week's lesson.

You answered him, though it was barely above a whisper. Having him teaching you all of the sudden was not something you were mentally prepared for.

However he still understood, and started leading you through some warm ups.

To say that you were blushing, embarrassed, mortified, or anything similar still felt like an understatement. Warm ups just aren't cute.They felt silly and sounded dumb and the idea of doing them in front of Baekhyun of all people made you want to curl up into a tiny ball and become one with the carpet on the floor.

Of course Baekhyun quickly caught on to that. “How about we do them together? I'll start, and you just match me, ok?”

His voice concealed your own enough to ease your mind a bit, but soon he was asking you to sing on your own, without his voice to hide behind.

You could barely get out a sound, let alone properly sing a simple scale. It was frustrating beyond belief, you knew you were a good singer, and you were incredibly lucky to have him offer to teach you, but your shyness still got the best of you. Trying to do anything while his eyes were on you felt impossible.

Baekhyun was starting to regret offering to do the lesson, not because he didn't want to, but because he felt he was making you uncomfortable. He loved the idea of mentoring a trainee, helping them develop their skills and getting to see them debut with his encouragement, it had even been a dream of his. Of course this was only one vocal lesson, but it was something he'd been thinking about for a while, and this seemed like a great opportunity, at least at first. But he knew he couldn't force it, and he didn't want to hold you back either.

“I'm sorry, I didn't really think this through. Should we call it a night?” He asked, and you felt your heart sink. The disappointment evident on your face must've told him that you weren't quite ready to give up yet, so he made you an offer.

“What if I face the wall, and you close your eyes, just imagine I'm not here and you're practicing by yourself. Just so I can hear you and get a better idea for what we should work on.”

You took a deep breath. He was just another person, and he was here because he wanted to help you.

When you nodded, he smiled, ready to give it your best shot before he turned away, facing the corner of the room.

It actually came out sounding okay that time, so you repeated it again for good measure.

When you opened your eyes Baekhyun was looking your way again, with a proud smile on his face.

He had you repeat it a few more times, reassuring you every time that you were doing well, and for you, just seeing him smiling and praising you was enough to keep you going.

With you finally past your mental block, he was able to get an idea of where you were at, and both of you were surprised to see how quickly two hours went by. He still kept things simple, not wanting to overwhelm you or make you shy again, but it was going amazingly well and he found himself almost as excited about it as you, if not even more.

With the lesson finally over, he offered to drive you back to your dorm on his way home, and you happily accepted. When he led you to his car, a silver Porsche, you let out a small laugh in disbelief. Baekhyun just smiled, making a little extra show out of opening the door for you, before circling around to get in himself. You stayed quiet, just listening to him softly sing along to the music he'd put on until it was time for him to drop you off. Part of you was still in disbelief, that you'd really spent the last few hours with him, and now, you were next to him in his car as he drove you home. When he pulled up to your dorm, he wished you a good night, and didn't move until he saw you enter the building safely. As you laid in bed that night you replayed it all in your mind, smiling like a fool at how heart fluttering it all was. For the first time, you couldn’t fall asleep because your reality was somehow even better than what you could dream up.

One week later, when you arrived for your lesson again, you were surprised when Baekhyun and your original teacher said they wanted to discuss something with you.

“How would you feel about having your vocal lessons with me from now on?” Baekhyun asked.

They saw the surprise on your face, your first teacher nodding at what Baekhyun had said.

“Wow, I mean, are you sure? It's an honor, of course, but, why..?”

“Teaching is something I've been thinking a lot about lately and I really enjoyed our lesson last week. It's up to you, of course, but if you'd be interested then I'd love to be your new voice teacher.”

You laughed, mostly in disbelief. It felt too good to be true. Baekhyun was someone you'd looked up to for so long, and now he was happily offering to personally help you with your singing.

“You really mean that?”

He was still smiling in that almost frustratingly captivating way, nodding at your question. “So should we get started?”

Unlike the week prior you had a bit more confidence this time around, and both you and him thoroughly enjoyed the lesson. Every week that followed your voice grew even bolder, as you got more used to being around him. You got less nervous to see him, moreso happy and excited to get to sing with him, and having him as your teacher made you all the more dedicated to doing your absolute best.

Soon you started to ask him about other things, too. First it was dancing, asking his advice for how to memorize choreographies more easily. Then, how to talk to the media, or how to pose for photo shoots. Within a few months Baekhyun was much more than just the voice teacher you saw once a week. He helped you with basically every aspect of becoming a successful idol, he became a mentor to you.

You could never fully get used to it, to having him in your life in such a close way. Your heart would still flutter when he showed you that amazing smile of his, and you still refused to slack off on your vocals or dancing, because you wanted to impress him, but mostly because you’d get to see that very smile. He was every bit as lovely and charming as you’d always imagined he would be, and you fell hard for him, he made it impossible for you not to. With how sweet he was to you, it sometimes seemed like he might actually like you, as more than a student, but those were thoughts you pushed away, knowing realistically that a relationship with him was nothing more than a fantasy.

It was only six months into being a trainee that you were told you would debut, and you knew that you had him to thank for it. Another few months later the day came, and it was time for you to perform with your group for the first time.

As soon as you stepped off stage, out of the view of the cameras, you lost it. The tears weren't because you felt sad or disappointed, simply overwhelmed. You knew you'd done well, really well in fact. Your career had officially begun, and the weight of it came down on you all at once, leaving you with little to do but sit in your dressing room in disbelief.

There was a soft knock on the door, and next thing you knew Baekhyun’s head was peeking in, and you weren't sure you'd ever seen him smile that big before.

Without as much as a second of hesitation, you ran to the door, pulling him inside. As the door shut behind him, his arms wrapped around you.

His praises almost went unheard, still too overwhelmed by everything to fully listen to what he was saying, but you could tell he was happy, that he thought you'd done really well.

It wasn't long until his arms broke away, hands still on your shoulders as he looked at you, smiling that amazing smile of his. With him looking at you like that, telling you how well you'd done, how proud he was, how happy he was to be your mentor, your emotions ran wild. It was everything, the adrenaline, relief, euphoria, and just him.

His eyes were still on your teary ones, admiring you, a little overwhelmed himself. Seeing you finally debut after the months he'd spent with you, singing together, dancing, doing everything he could to make sure you were ready when the day came, got him a little teary eyed, too. You'd done so well, and he felt so lucky to have gotten to be there by your side for all of it.

“I'm so proud of you.” He said, his hands moving down from your shoulders, along your arms. His eyes held so much warmth behind them, the sweet words along with his hands on you, and the way he never took his eyes away from you, had you reeling, stomach doing flips. For a second you swore his face was getting closer to yours, and his eyes flickered down to your lips. The tension seemed so thick, it became unbearable.

You threw your arms around him, and you kissed him.

At first he took a step back, stumbling a bit, too surprised to fully react. But before you had the chance to pull away, his hand was holding your face against his own, returning the same kind of passion you showed him.

Baekhyun, your endlessly kind, lovely, talented, handsome, funny, charming mentor, was kissing you back. With his free arm, he circled your waist and pulled you closer, flush with his chest. The hand on your face held you close so softly, asking, not demanding, for more contact, for this to not end so quickly. He gave you every chance to pull away, to stop him, but you didn't, you only melted into his affection even more.

The knock on the door pulled you both rudely back to reality. Your lips parted, and as you stared at one another, what you'd just done started to sink in. Baekhyuns’ face fell in a way you’d never seen before, and then he was gone. He walked through the door with all the horror disgust he felt towards himself clearly evident and the knot in his stomach nearly made him sick.

He knew he made a huge mistake. He fucked up so incredibly badly.

You stood there stunned, a million things running through your head, and collapsed under the weight of it all.

The stylist was confused to say the least after first witnessing Baekhyun’s swift exit and next finding you, sitting on the floor crying. Thankfully she excused herself and let you be.

Baekhyun kissed you, and then just walked out, leaving you alone and confused. The guilt nearly ate him alive. Returning your kiss crossed so many lines and he should've known better, and he did, but you caught him so off guard, in such an emotionally charged moment, it just happened. The sudden euphoria of realizing that you were kissing him overpowered any rational thought. He knew he must be insane.

And of all days, it was the day of your debut.

He had to make this right.

He returned to your waiting room but it was already empty. He kept walking around the building trying to find you, even running into your bandmates, but you were nowhere to be found.

Then he tried calling you, but he was sent to voicemail after the first ring. You declined his call. Finally he texted you, although he really didn't want to have this conversation over text. He knew he needed to do a better job at apologizing than just sending a few texts

“Can we please talk about this? I'm so sorry I just walked out, I wasn't thinking, I need to talk to you.”

You didn't reply.

The next day he called again, and still you didn't pick up.

The truth was, you were too embarrassed. Seeing him again, after he'd rejected you like that, was just too mortifying to consider. You felt so stupid. Of course kissing him was an outrageously dumb thing to do. He was your mentor, of course anything romantic was off the table. But you had a crush, and the adrenaline, combined with how sweet he was to you, made you lose any sense of reason.

Stupid little girl, kissing the man she never even had a chance with, because her emotions got the best of her.

But then why did he kiss you back?

That was what drove you insane. Of course you had a crush on him, it was painfully obvious from the first day you'd met him, but he'd always stayed professional, never giving you any reason to think that it was anything more than how a fan feels toward their idol, and that it ever would be. Unfortunately for you, your feelings towards him only got stronger over time.

Baekhyun had convinced himself that it was a good thing you liked him, that with him as your mentor, you'd work that much harder. He thought it was cute, the same way he thought of other fans' attitudes towards him, during fansigns and the like. He hadn't considered that maybe he'd gotten a little too close with you, that those lines started to feel blurred. In reality, you weren't just another fan, you were far from it. You were a real friend, you knew him.

It was easy for him to understand why you didn't want to see or talk to him after what happened. He knew he messed up, both when he kissed you back, and when he left the room. He couldn't even imagine what must've been going through your head. He hoped you weren't blaming yourself, sure you're an adult, but at ten whole years older than you, he knew he was the one responsible for making sure things stayed appropriate between you two, and he'd failed.

To his relief, you still did amazing for the rest of the debut promotions. He watched every performance, wishing he could've been there to support you.

Because of how busy you were you'd agreed a while ago to skip lessons for the first two weeks after debut, and as the days dragged on, Baekhyun was starting to worry that he wouldn't get to see you again for a lot longer than he'd like. He still knew he needed to apologize to you, and the longer you avoided him the guiltier he felt.

When promotions ended and he still hadn't heard from you, he reached out to your manager, asking when you'd have time for a lesson again.

She assured him that you'd be there next week at the same time and place as usual, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The days before the lesson dragged on for what felt like ages to him, but at least there was an end in sight.

When the time finally came, you were mortified, almost as badly as the first day you'd met him, or during your first lesson together, maybe even worse. He greeted you just as warmly as he always did, emphasizing how well you'd done during all the performances, and how he wished he could've been there for you. He did everything he could to try and relieve some of the tension and awkwardness, but you weren't there yet.

You were bright red, hating the unpleasant heat sweeping over you, burning your cheeks and making you uncomfortably sweaty. You couldn't talk to him, or even make eye contact, you were still too ashamed.

“Y/n?” You saw in your peripheral how he looked at you, and your eyes started to water. “I need to apologize for what happened after the showcase, I'm so sorry, I never should've put you in that situation, or kissed you back, or just left like I did. I was being reckless and stupid, the fault is all mine, and I understand if not, but I really hope you can forgive me.”

His heart sank when you started to cry, and although he'd told himself a million times that he wouldn't, that any physical contact with you was inappropriate, he still ended up holding you, giving you a shoulder to cry on.

“I'm such a fucking idiot.” You eventually let out between sobs, and he detached himself from you, finally meeting your eyes.

“Please don't say that, this is all on me. I'm the one who fucked up, not you.”

“But I'm the one- I-”

“Because I was being inappropriate. Like I said, I shouldn't have put you in that situation, that was my mistake.”

“I'm just so embarrassed.” It came out barely above a whisper.

“Nobody saw us, and I could never judge you for that. I know you just got caught up in the moment.”

You did your best to smile and nod, but the tears just kept coming. His words were sweet but did little to mend the pain and shame you still felt.

He wanted to reach out and wipe away your tears, to hold you, to comfort you as best he could, but he knew it would only worsen things. Once again, however, when you leaned into him for comfort, he let you do as you pleased, cursing himself for letting his very necessary boundaries slip away so easily.

This was bad, he knew it was. He didn't have the strength to push you away though he really should've. If this was going to continue, he had to do better, but he was coming to terms with the fact that he just wasn't able to.

He stayed holding you until the tears eventually slowed down, and came to a stop. Now that your face wasn't buried in his chest anymore, he shot you a soft smile. “Do you want to get to singing?”

Finally, you let out a small laugh. “Do we have to? Can we just talk? I missed you.”

He sighed, but nodded. He'd missed you too, but saying so didn't feel like a good idea.

He kept the conversation light, trying to make you laugh, anything to brighten your mood, if only for a little while. When the end of the lesson came, he knew he was going to have to be the bearer of bad news.

“Next week I promise we can actually sing again.” You told him as he led you to his car to bring you home.

He took a few deep breaths, and you were on your way to your dorm when he finally replied.

“I don't think it's a good idea for me to be mentoring you, or giving your lessons anymore.”

“What?”

He stopped at a red light, and the look of hurt and disappointment he saw when he looked over at you made his throat feel tight.

“I'll talk to your original voice teacher, to see when he can fit you into his schedule again, now that you're getting more advanced it'll be better for you to train with him anyway.”

You felt your lip start to quiver again. “You just don't want to be around me anymore now, I get it.” You mumbled, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice.

Baekhyun’s eyes squeezed shut for a second, “it's really not that, not at all.”

He was pulling up to your dorm and you just wanted to get away from him now before he saw you start to cry again. “You don't have to keep lying to me, I know I'm the one who fucked everything up with that stupid kiss.”

He parked, trying to think of how he could finally convince you that it wasn't your fault, but you were reaching for the door before he had the chance to say anything.

“Y/n, wait, please-”

You were already gone though, shutting the door behind you. As soon as you were outside of his car the tears came, and you tried to wipe them away as best you could as you hurried to your dorm.

When you got to the elevator you prayed nobody would see you like this. You'd spent so much of the evening in tears, you knew you looked an absolute mess. You just wanted to get to your room where you could finally be alone and let it all out.

“Y/n, wait!”

You turned around, and there he was, jogging towards where you stood. Your stomach suddenly felt like it was in your throat, and then he was in front of you once again, this time taking both of your hands in his.

“I don't know what to tell you, for you to believe me, but it's not your fault, I swear. I- I don't want to stop teaching you either, really, but I can't keep being alone with you, not when I can't trust myself.”

All you could do was stare back at him, knowing that you were a tearful mess. What he was telling you didn't make any sense in your mind. You kissed him. Not the other way around.

“Please say something.” He was still panting a little as he said it, winded from having run after you.

“What does that even m-mean, you can't trust yourself? I'm the one who kissed you, and I'm definitely not stupid enough to try that again, so what does it matter?”

“I already told you, I shouldn't have put you, or us, in that situation in the first place.”

“But that doesn't fucking matter! Who cares if we're alone, we've been alone for the last two hours and it was fine.”

Only it really hadn't been fine, he knew that he shouldn't have been touching you at all.

You were staring back at him through tear filled eyes, and he felt absolutely terrible. He wanted to be able to comfort you, and eventually just gave in, throwing caution to the wind and wrapping his arms around you.

He just didn't have it in him to stand and watch you cry, knowing that he was the reason. This time he felt the way you grabbed onto the back of his shirt, keeping him from moving away.

“Please don't cry, I'm sorry, really, I just want what's best for you. We would still see each other occasionally around the company, it's not like this is goodbye forever.”

“I- I don't want lessons with anyone else. You're the whole reason I was able to debut, you can't just leave me now. Please.”

You were still holding onto him, and with every “please” you added, he was slipping. He hoped that you would eventually calm down, and he would be able to reason with you, to finally make you understand why he couldn't be around you so much anymore.

He had no such luck. All you could think about was how badly you would miss him, how lost you would feel if he stopped mentoring you, the last few weeks had been bad enough already, the only thing that got you through without him was your embarrassment and how busy you'd been. You couldn't lose him, you needed him.

Every minute that he listened to you cry because of him, he felt his rationality fade. As much as he knew he needed to distance himself, he wasn't going to do it if it hurt you that badly.

You felt him take a deep breath, and finally, a soft “okay” fell from his lips.

It wasn't until then that he felt your grip on him loosen, and you looked up at him.

“What? Really?” You sniffled, face still wet.

He nodded, running one hand through your hair, moving it from where it had started to stick to your face.

Once again, your arms were thrown around him, but at least this time, it was because you were happy. You must've said thank you to him a million times that night, as you felt the relief wash over you. Baekhyun was all too aware of the way your chest pressed against his own.

When he was finally free of your arms around him, you were beaming up at him, and he couldn't help but smile back. “You should get to your dorm before people start getting worried.”

You nodded, pressing the button and hugging him one more time before the elevator arrived.

“Bye” he waved, as you stepped inside and the doors started to shut “see you next week.”

He knew he was in too deep, and he was a fool to give in to you, but now it was too late. He was going to have to live with his decision and try to keep things from going further, but he

knew deep down that realistically, he didn’t have that kind of self control, not with you.

Baekhyun hadn’t planned on seeing you again until the next lesson, but when your debut song entered the top ten on all the major charts just a few days later, he wanted to celebrate, and invited you to a nice dinner. That day you spent hours getting ready, putting on your favorite dress and making sure your hair and makeup were perfect. You knew that it wasn’t a date, but the way you felt leading up to him arriving could’ve fooled you.

He picked you up and drove you to the restaurant, pulling up in the back where there was already somebody waiting to lead you to a private dining area where you’d be out of sight of the public. You hadn’t really thought about it, but you understood why it would probably be better for your dinner with him to stay between the two of you.

It was the first time you’d been around him just to hang out, more as a friend than a student, and you thought it was magical. You were nervous at first, still having all of the past drama with him on your mind, but he was his usual wonderful self, easily leading the conversation, making you laugh until your stomach hurt, and he too felt it, how easy and right this was. You ended up at the restaurant with him for over two hours, neither of you wanting the night to end. Finally the awkward tension from the previous weeks was gone, replaced with optimism and gratitude for still having him in your life.

When he finally dropped you off, he got out of the car to walk you inside, and you ended up alone with him, standing in front of the elevator once again.

“Thank you for tonight,” You started, “everything still feels kind of surreal, I can’t believe this is actually my life now. And it’s all thanks to you.”

“You always had it in you.” He said and smiled that lovely warm smile. You were about to press the button to take you upstairs, but he stopped you, looking around to make sure you were alone. “Wait- I know I tell you all the time that I’m proud of you and how far you’ve come, but I really can’t say it enough. I’m really lucky that I get to teach you. You have something special, truly.”

You and him got stuck in a weird place, neither one talking, but not making any effort to leave either. The way he was looking at you pulled you in, and you thought you saw something flash across his face, something you hadn’t seen before. He stepped closer, close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin, and your heart rate skyrocketed, confused. He wasn’t sure what came over him, he must be insane.

“Baekhyun?” You barely whispered, but he didn’t explain himself, instead he leaned in, and he kissed you.

Your mind was going a million miles a minute and it made no sense to you whatsoever, but he was kissing you, softly, sweetly, like something out of one of the many day dreams you’d had about him. As quickly as it started he was pulling away again, his face tinted a deep shade of pink, smiling a bit bashfully at you, still too shocked to react.

“Goodnight.” He whispered, and then he was walking back to his car.

After that, things felt completely different with him. The hugs got longer, his words sweeter, and every time he dropped you off, he’d again kiss you goodnight. It wasn’t only after your weekly lessons together that he would drive you around either, you and him began to spend more and more time together, and had to get more and more cautious about not being seen.

You would sneak out in big hoodies with a mask on to walk to where he was waiting in the parking lot, just to drive around all night with him in one of his fancy cars, talking, singing, and sometimes pulling off to the side of a quiet road where he would lean over and kiss you, though it never went any further. He knew that sneaking around with and kissing his student was bad enough, anything more, and in public, would be a whole different kind of stupid.

Both of you started to lie a lot, to your managers, friends, anyone really who would question or even just ask about your relationship. To everyone else, he was still just your mentor, a strict student-teacher agreement and no more. The lying should’ve been your first clue as to how wrong it all was, but you were blinded by your feelings for him. Getting to be alone with him, kiss him, and talk to him about things no one else knew was too all consuming for you to even think twice about it.

How you talked to each other changed too. When you were alone with him he would call you baby, treating you less like a student, or even just a friend, and more as a lover. You should’ve been happy, thrilled, even, and you were when you were with him, but when he’d drop you off and you’d be alone in your dorm again, you’d break down.

The late nights together, the romance, the kisses, they were all wonderful in the moment, but afterwards you’d always part ways, realizing that it was all fleeting, that any relationship beyond what you already had with him was impossible, because no matter how you might feel about each other, you were still his student, and far too young to be involved with him in any deeper way. No number of kisses or secret rendezvous would make him yours, he made that clear. You would always end up alone in your dorm at the end of it all, crying, knowing it would never turn into anything more.

Seeing him during lessons was a different experience now. There would be other people around, and they didn’t think twice seeing you together, but you and Baekhyun would give each other knowing looks, or he’d wink at you, or something else to signify your little secret. You and him almost had a special secret language, joking with each other often with little more than a glance.

Even your manager didn’t know about you and him, she knew that he was mentoring you, but she’d known him for so long, she never even suspected that he might be acting inappropriately with you, he just didn’t seem like that kind of guy.

The two of you had everyone fooled, and while it felt exciting on the surface, it also grew a new kind of shame within you, knowing that what you were doing was deeply wrong.

What you had with him wasn’t real, and never should or could be, and it was starting to tear you apart. It took you weeks of working up the courage to do so, but finally, during a lesson, you decided you were going to confront him with all of it.

“Can I ask you something?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “Sure.”

“But you have to promise you'll answer honestly!”

“Okay! I promise.”

You took a deep breath. “What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. The sneaking around, the kissing, what is that about?”

He'd been perfectly relaxed, but you could see how he tensed up as he realized what you were talking about.

“Y/n, I don't think it's a good idea for us to talk about that right now-”

“You said you'd answer!”

A long sigh left him, eyes squeezing shut for a second. “Okay, okay. I’m just doing what feels right. You know I like you, but you also know that we can’t just act like we’re together either.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Cause it’s inappropriate? We both know that this entire arrangement hasn't been appropriate since you decided to mentor me, knowing that I have a huge crush on you.”

You wanted to finally hear it from him, wanted him to admit that he'd been just as irresponsible as you, and Baekhyun didn't say a word. It was the hard truth that he'd been trying for so long to avoid, and you threw it right in his face.

“Ever since then it feels like you've been slowly leading me on, acting like we have something special but never letting it feel completely real, when you're the one who started all this in the first place, and let it get this far.”

He stared at you, and he knew he couldn't keep it up anymore, couldn't keep ignoring it. He saw your hurt and frustration clear as day, and finally, he broke.

“I'm a fucking idiot. I know I am, I'm an idiot and knew that getting so close with you was a terrible idea but I ignored all of that because I like you too much, I never intended for us to end up like this and feel like a huge asshole because I know I'm in a position where it's completely wrong of me to touch you at all because of how we met and the power dynamic but still every time I see you that's all I can think about.”

“Do you really not understand how cruel you're being?”

You scoffed at how genuinely confused he looked.

“I've liked you so much for so long, you know I have, and you just waltz into my life and start talking to me and then teaching me and then offering to mentor me, when you know I can't help but fall for you. You even make it clear that you like me back, inviting me out with you and kissing me but never truly acknowledging what it means, it feels fucking awful. You keep stringing me along because you like me even though you know you can't give me what I really want. You're such a selfish asshole for that.”

Your voice grew less and less stable and Baekhyun saw how the tears gathered in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

He knew there was no use trying to argue with you, he'd gotten himself into this mess and he knew he was the one to blame. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. But it can’t go on like this, it hurts too much.”

The small room fell silent and all you could do was stare at each other. You looked so defeated, the guilt nearly brought him to tears, and he did the only thing he could think to do.

He held your face in his hands, bringing you close, letting his lips meet your own.

Kissing him was just as electrifying as it always was, only this time, he didn't stop, didn't hold back. You got lost in the feeling, savoring the familiar taste and feel of finally getting what you craved again. This time though, it couldn't end the way it always did. Something had to change, so you pulled away.

“You can’t just kiss me again and then keep on the same way. Please, I need more.”

His face fell, because he knew he couldn’t give you that. “Y/n, I’m sorry, but you know why I can’t do that, why it has to be like this.”

And he was right, of course you understood, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. It would be the end of his career if he was seen with you, and even his close friends would be raising eyebrows. He was so much older, your teacher, and your idol. What you wanted was completely impossible. “I care about you, a lot, you know I do. I also wish it wasn’t like this but we don’t have another choice.”

“So what? You keep stringing me along, and I just have to live with it? Knowing that no matter how much we may want it, we’ll never be able to be together?”

He sighed, and frowned at how sad you looked. “Can’t we just be grateful for what we do have?”

You shook your head, “I want too much.”

Despite everything you said, you and him both knew that you wouldn't be able to walk away, and neither would he. So when he took your face in his hands, whispered another “I'm sorry,” and kissed you again, you melted into him effortlessly.

It was heated and messy, both letting out all your grief and frustration, clinging to each other almost desperately. He kissed you harder, deeper than he had before, until this time he was the one to pull away, though he didn't move far, looking at you with a look that while apologetic, was still hopeful.

“I can't give you what you want, but if we're careful, I can take you home with me. For tonight, we can act like it’s real.”

Before, taking you home with him had always been off the table. You were both too easily recognizable, and being seen in his building together would make it dead obvious that your relationship was more than it should be, so it didn’t even seem like an option.

Wide eyed, you nodded, and not even a half hour into the lesson he was sneaking you carefully out of the practice room, and then the building, into his car. You texted your manager some bullshit excuse as to why you'd be gone for the night, and then you were on your way to his place, for the very first time.

You could hear the rapid pounding of your own heart as he drove you through the night, unsure but excited. Even if it was only for one night, and he was risking far too much, you were going to hold onto whatever you could get.

When he pulled into his building’s garage, he gave you a hat and a mask to put on, he pulled up his hood and put his own mask on, saying a short prayer before getting out of the car, and walking in with you. If anyone saw and recognized you both, he would be fucked, so he hurried, and luckily you made it to his apartment without running into anyone.

Once inside you both let out a sigh of relief. You were alone with him, truly alone, no chance of passers by seeing you, or label mates catching onto your relationship, just you and him, all night.

When you felt his hand on your own, pulling you closer, it robbed you of your breath. He took his mask off, and then yours, and leaned in, though his lips only barely met your own before he was looking at you once again. “I’ve wanted you so badly, and I know it’s wrong and I’m an idiot and an asshole for doing this, but I just can’t bring myself to stay away from you.”

“So don’t. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. I’m all yours.”

You looked up at him, eyes sparking with all the hope and clueless naivety he should expect from you, a girl of barely twenty, who’d grown up loving him, and was powerless not to fall into his trap, whether he’d set it on purpose or not. He was a man ten years your senior, who positioned himself as an authority figure in your life, someone who should never touch you, kiss you, or anything even close.

The guilt manifested as a lump in his throat, knowing that your feelings for him, your willingness to ignore how wrong it all was, were because of him.

Still, he kissed you, with a kind of passion that was new to you both. Without any risk of getting caught, he let himself hold you tighter, let the kiss get more and more heated. He led you to the couch, where you ended up on his lap, his hands on your hips as his lips wandered to your neck, kissing, biting, enough to make you gasp and shiver, but not leave marks.

For you it was otherworldly, lightheaded and dizzy with disbelief as his hands and lips stayed glued to your skin, finally living out the fantasies that played in your head when you laid alone at night, longing for him. You’d kissed boys in the past, but none of them came anywhere close to the way he made you feel. You were convinced nobody could ever make you feel the things Baekhyun could, and all he’d done was kiss you. He wasn’t some boy, he was a man, he knew what he was doing, and you wanted more. Every last little piece of him.

The restraint was gone. He wanted you just as badly, and that was all he could focus on. When you pushed your hips further into him, he groaned at the friction, easily getting carried away. You felt, looked, sounded, tasted, even smelled divine to him. He’d been hard for a good while already, and this time when you rolled your hips and he felt you against him, he let out a satisfied groan.

That only encouraged you further and you kept moving, lips moving heatedly against his, as you started to get yourself off against him, his hands on your ass guiding you.

“I want more.” You breathed out when he pulled back for air. “Where’s your bedroom?”

Baekhyun didn’t answer, rather he stood, your legs still wrapped around him as he carried you away, until gently laying you down on his mattress.

With you he became a gentle, caring lover. Maybe it was your age, or the fact that he’d been your mentor, but the way he touched you was like you were something precious. Like if he wasn’t careful, you would break. Even as he positioned himself between your thighs, he was cautious, never moving too quickly, watching for any hesitation on your end.

But there was none, your desire for him was all-consuming in a way that was hard to understand, even in the moment. Without him pressed against you, you felt like you might actually die.

“I’m not made of glass, Baek. You don’t have to be so careful.”

“I know, I just… I want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I want this to be special.”

When his lips met yours for the nth time that day, you started to tug on his clothes, until his shirt was being pulled over his head and he got to work undressing you as well. One by one he took off your blouse, followed by the skirt you were wearing, next unhooking your bra, until all that was left on your body was a pair of lacy underwear. Still desperate for his affection, you kept your lips glued to his all you could, the added feel of his warm skin against your own stealing any rationality from your mind. All you could think of was him, you wanted him in a way you didn’t even know was possible.

He froze above you when your hand reached down, trying to get the button of his jeans undone.

Even the few seconds when his touch left you completely as he finished undressing himself felt torturous. A breath got stuck in your throat when you felt his hands at your hips, slowly pulling the last piece of clothing from your body before reclaiming his place between your thighs.

As your eyes met his and he started to move closer, you realized that there was something he needed to know.

“Wait- I should probably tell you, I’ve never done this before.”

You watched as the color drained from Baekhyun’s face, eyes wide. He hadn’t even considered that you might be a virgin, you were old enough to have some experience, but it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise to him either. Those five words hit him like a punch in the gut.

He rolled off of you, hands running through his hair, eyes squeezed shut. “God, this is so fucked up.”

You sat up, taking one of his hands and he looked at you with uncertainty. “It’s not a big deal, but I’m sorry if that was a bit of a shock.”

He gave you a sympathetic, but worried look. “It is a big deal though, at least to me. This would be irresponsible enough if it wasn’t your first time, I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t want to be responsible for how you’ll feel afterwards.”

His words made your heart sink and a lump form in your throat. “What? No, please, Baekhyun, trust me, there isn’t anyone in the entire world that I would rather do this with than you, here and now. Please. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything this badly.”

“You have to realize how tough of a spot you’re putting me in.”

“I don’t care. I just want you, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life. Please.”

You moved closer to him, linking your hands behind the back of his neck, taking him with you as you fell back onto the mattress. He looked down at you, still unsure.

“Please.”

He shushed you with another kiss, but had his own conditions if he was really going to be your first. “You have to tell me immediately if you feel uncomfortable at all, or if it hurts, and you can stop me at any point if you don’t want it anymore.”

You could see in his eyes the concern and uncertainty he was feeling, but you had gotten this far, and you knew what you wanted, and you wanted it bad. You nodded, and he was between your legs once again, the anticipation rising.

Baekhyun didn’t miss the way you gasped at the first touch of his length against your inner thigh. He wanted to make sure you were ready, that it didn’t hurt too badly, so he started with one finger inside you, slowly working it in and out, before adding a second. The wetness and your whimpers told him you were more than ready, easily taking his digits, and finally, he moved to replace them with his length.

You felt him position himself at your entrance, and you were certain you’d never felt that kind anticipation before, leaving you a shaking, panting mess underneath him.

You felt his hand softly against your cheek, and your eyes opened to meet his. “Y/n, baby. You’re sure you want this?”

You nodded without even a second of hesitation. “Yes, god, please.”

The softness of his kiss was a stark contrast to the intrusion of him pushing inside, the pain making your eyes squeeze shut and a whine pass your lips.

He stopped moving when he saw your reaction, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. “Am I hurting you?”

It did hurt, but your desire overpowered any sign of discomfort. “Please don’t stop.”

With his forehead pressed to yours he kept going, until his hips were flush with yours. He felt your discomfort in how tense you were, staying still to let the pain subside.

“Baekhyun, please.”

You might’ve not minded the pain, too concerned with the intense need for more, but he wasn’t going to move until he knew you were okay.

“I know it hurts baby, you have to relax, can you do that for me?”

You whined in response but realized that he was right, you were extremely un-relaxed, and as you made a conscious effort to let go of all the tension in your body, the pain faded away.

He felt it, and saw how you melted into the mattress, and took it as his cue to start moving.

The first thrust had your back arching, moaning his name and he just kept going, setting a slow rhythm. You clung to him, moaning unabashedly, losing yourself to the new and incredible feeling of him inside you. Nothing could’ve prepared you for it, this was so much better than anything you’d been able to come up with in your own fantasies. Just the weight and warmth of him on top of you overwhelmed you, combined with the feeling of him pushing in, pulling out almost completely each time, before sinking back into you, it was like your own personal heaven. He was your own personal heaven.

It only got better as he kept moving, that familiar warm feeling building in the pit of your stomach. You’d had orgasms before, but what you could do with your own hands didn’t even compare to what he was doing to you. It was a wholly different, and far more intense sensation.

His lips collided with yours in a messy, lustful haze, praises passing his lips in between breaths. “You feel so good baby, so perfect, so beautiful.”

Those words heightened everything even more, his low voice sending chills running down your spine.

“Baek, please.”

You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore, you were just imploring him for more, everything and anything he could give you, you wanted it. The feeling of him rolling his hips into you again and again clearing your mind, your pleasure and desire all consuming.

However he could see it in your eyes, how you needed more, and picked up the pace. The way he pushed himself into you, now faster, and with more force, had the tightness in your belly growing more intense by the second.

The build up was more intense than you ever knew possible, losing control as he continued his ministrations, until all at once, you fell.

The orgasm raged through you, leaving every nerve ablaze, as you shook and gasped at the overwhelming wave of pleasure.

Above you, Baekhyun was losing control too, still pushing inside deeply, teetering on the edge, but your fucked out expression combined with the way you clenched around him had him reaching his high soon after you, shuddering with a moan as he let go.

For a minute you both stayed just like that, panting, gasping, letting the climax slowly fade, until there was nothing left but a tangled web of sweaty limbs.

When he pulled out and rolled off of you, the loss of his warmth made you whine. You barely even noticed when he got up, soon returning with a wet towel, and cleaning you up.

He settled in next to you, and you smiled when his arm wrapped around you, pulling you into him.

Luckily the exhaustion did well to lull you to sleep, any painful thoughts being pushed to the morning, but you wouldn’t be able to escape them forever.

He woke you up with a kiss on the cheek, and at first it all felt so nice, so tender and intimate, in bed together with him as the sun began to poke through the curtains. Slowly he got up, and you followed, feeling the dull ache between your thighs as you stood.

Seeing the way you grimaced at the soreness, he was quickly at your side. “Shit, sorry.” He muttered.

You just let out a small laugh. “It’s okay, it was worth it, at least. Definitely worth it.”

He smiled, pulling his clothes on as you gathered your own, before doing the same. “Let’s get you home, before it gets busy and people could see us leaving here together."

There it was, the rude call back to reality. That your night with him was over, that now you would have to hide again, to sneak around, and constantly be reminded that he wasn’t really yours, and never would be.

Stupid, foolish girl.

You managed to make it back home without being spotted, and even his kiss goodbye couldn’t keep the sadness from taking you over. He noticed it too, how you seemed to shut down after making it to his car.

Back in your room, you let it all out, letting the tears seep into your pillow. Once again, he’d turned you into a complete mess, the pain and frustration leaving you broken.

Nobody could ever again give you what he could, could make you feel what he could. It was him, the man you’d looked up to and admired for so many years, and now after having slept with him, it was clearer than ever.

That was the nature of your relationship with him. You were powerless to him, and no matter how much it would ruin you, you'd let him do it, over and over again.

For him, you would ruin yourself, a million little times.

#baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun fic #exo fic #baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #kpop smut #baekhyun angst #exo angst

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itstheoneshot · 9 months

Text

Misdemeanour

request

Summary: All you had to do was sit still and listen, but that was asking too much of you, wasn’t it?

Word Count: 2.9k

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Power Imbalance, Age Gap, Dubcon, Breeding Kink, Brat Taming, Degradation, Unprotected Sex.

“Are you going to answer?”

You snap out of your daze, focusing in on the source of the voice. You heard your name and were unsure if you were daydreaming, but now with your lecturer standing in front of your desk, you accept the truth.

“Answer what?” You ask in monotone, not even attempting to feign interest.

You couldn’t care less about this class, one of the mandatory units you need for your degree, only here to pass and nothing else, you don’t care about high marks.

“I asked you,” He sighs, clearly frustrated, “To speak on what the author meant on page 14… were you even listening to me?”

You lift your head up to make eye contact with your teacher. Professor Byun Baekhyun. Barely in his 30s, and way too smart to be wasting his time with a student like you. He’s handsome, witty, and you know that if you cared about the topic, you would probably try for his sake at least, but truth be told, all you can think about right now is the day ending so that you can go home to bed.

“No,” You smirk at him, “And no, I wasn’t.”

You watch the vein in his neck bulge as he draws in a sharp breath, and you stifle a laugh, though you can’t wipe the smile from your face. You were never a well-behaved student, not in any of your schooling years, and still now in university you just thrived off frustrating your teachers. You could never really pinpoint why, but you were sure that your psychology lecturer, the one right in front of you now, could do so.

“Stay back after class,” Baekhyun murmurs, an order, not a question, “We need to speak about your attitude.”

You roll your eyes at him in an attempt to dissuade yourself from stamping your feet in protest. You know that you’re not the only one in class who doesn’t pay attention, but you have no idea why he singles you out.

“Are you kidding?” You ask him, “Sir, I have shit to do tonight.”

Baekhyun narrows his gaze, jaw clenched as he holds himself together, “Mind your language,” He warns you, “I won’t keep you too late if you can act like an adult.”

You don’t get a chance to clap back before he turns to walk to the front of the class, resuming the lecture and seemingly forgetting that he had asked you to join in the discussion. Though you should, you still don’t focus for the rest of the class, leaning back in your seat and staring at the clock on the wall, waiting for the session to end so that you can get this stupid talk over and done with.

“My office,” Baekhyun murmurs as you stand up from your desk, “Follow me.”

You roll your eyes once more, and drag your feet for good measure while you make your way over to him, but you do as you are told and follow him down the hallway and up a flight of stairs to his private office. As expected, the walls are lined with shelves full of books, and you scoff thinking about how boring they all must be. Baekhyun closes the door behind you before making his way to his desk, sitting behind it and gesturing to one of the chairs in front for you to take.

“Do I need to be here?” You ask, glancing down at your watch, “This is a waste of time for us both.”

Baekhyun stares blankly at you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. Even earlier when he was calling you out for your inability to pay attention, there was still a niceness to him, but not now you are alone.

“You definitely need to be here,” He replies, “And the fact that you don’t think so proves it for me.”

You raise a brow in confusion, not quite sure what he means by that at all.

“Cut the attitude,” He continues, “You won’t get anywhere in life if you continue to act this way.”

Exhaling deeply through your nostrils, you close your eyes to try and centre yourself, but not before Baekhyun continues to berate you.

“You think you’re funny, disrupting the class the way that you did today,” He states, which is not a lie, “But that’s just because you’re insecure, isn’t it?”

You suddenly feel bare, exposed, how the fuck can he read that from your behaviour? You know he has a doctorate but really? It’s that obvious?

“I am not,” You try to cover yourself, “I just don’t give a fuck about your stupid class.”

Now it is Baekhyun’s turn to compose, breathing deep into his chest, “I said,” He begins, “Cut the attitude.”

You break the intense eye contact to glance down at your watch again, how has it only been five minutes? “Can I leave now?” You ask, more persistent this time, “I am getting nothing from this.”

Baekhyun stands up, towering over you even though he is not the tallest man you know. You would never admit that it frightens you a bit, but if he is as good at reading people as he makes it seem, he would be aware.

“You need to learn to do as you’re told,” He states, “And you aren’t leaving this office until you can do that.”

You know that from his position, he has a good view of your body, and if you can be sure you’re not insane, you just caught him staring. Your shirt is a little low cut to be worn to Uni classes, but you had planned to go out for drinks after, so wanted to save the need to change.

“What are you insinuating?” You ask, “Baekhyun… seonsaengnim.”

Baekhyun’s lips curl up in a playful smirk, and you feel your stomach drop. You hate that he has gotten under your skin with such seemingly simple words, and such small actions.

“I’m insinuating,” He replies, “That if you don’t do as I tell you, that you may have to repeat the whole year…”

Coercion? He’s using coercion on you? But you don’t break so easily.

“I don’t care,” You respond with another flat out lie, “I’m not doing anything.”

You can feel his patience waning, but this only fires you up more, ready to fight, wanting to make him pay for making you feel so fucking… subordinate.

“I don’t think your parents would be happy to hear that their daughter is wasting their hard-earned money,” He murmurs, “I know they pay for your studies, and they’d be very, very disappointed if that money went to waste.”

He’s right. Of course he’s right. The only people who you really care about, your parents, would be devastated both emotionally and financially if they had to fork out the fees for an additional year of university. He has you backed into a corner, and you know it, he knows it too, and he is just waiting for you to give in.

“What do you want from me?” You ask him, your tone softening in what is probably fear, though you don’t feel it often enough to know for sure, “What do I need to do?”

Baekhyun smiles this time, showing those perfect teeth of his, and it makes your skin crawl. Psychologist or psychopath, you have no idea, and you take deep breaths to center yourself awaiting his response.

“I said, obey me,” He replies, “I know what you do outside of class, all the boys talk, so I’ll be making my own judgement today.”

Your breath catches in your throat, mind racing as you begin to realise exactly what he is speaking about. You are embarrassed, maybe a little ashamed, knowing that your stupidly attractive professor has heard about your… indulgences… It makes you crazy.

“What is your order?” You ask, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, “Is this even allowed?”

Sure, you’re an adult, well and truly, but he is so much older than you, ten years at least, and the imbalance is evident. You are mature, but nowhere near to his level, but you can see in his eyes, and feel in your body, that neither of you are upset about that.

“I make the rules,” He smiles at you again, he might be crazier than you are, “And the first one is I need you sitting up on this desk.”

You try not to be afraid, though your legs are a little shaky as you do what you are told, moving from behind the desk, to in front of him. He moves his chair back far enough that it hits the wall behind him, giving you plenty of room to sit down, and you cross your legs, not quite ready to give up without a little fight.

Baekhyun stands to join you, loosening his tie before reaching down to pry your legs apart. Your skirt rides up, exposing most of your thighs, and you feel so… impure.

“Much better,” He nods approvingly, his long, delicate fingers trail up your bare skin, “If you take me well enough, you may even see your marks improve. Your parents would be so proud, wouldn’t they, honey?”

Bile rises in your throat, but you swallow it down to return an even sweeter smile. It’s true, your parents would be overjoyed to see you do better, but of course they could never find out why. You watch Baekhyun as he scans your body, clearly pleased with what is laid out in front of him, fuck it, he’s too hot, and the benefits of this are enough to give in, of course, he wins.

“Use me,” You mumble, clearing your throat, “Take me, teach me my lesson.”

Baekhyun laughs, his hands sliding under your skirt to trace his fingers over your too-thin panties, “Such a slut,” He growls through gritted teeth, fingers pressing against you a little harder, “Ready for any boy to use whenever they want… but none are as experienced as me.”

You have no doubt that he is right, and it excites you more than you would care to admit. You whimper softly at the feeling of his fingers, close but not close enough, and you move forward just slightly to show your neediness.

“I didn’t think you’d give in so easily,” He teases, “I guess what they all say about you is right.”

“You don’t want me to play nice?” You ask, stuttering over your words as you feel his fingers slip under the elastic of your panties.

Baekhyun’s fingers breach you, two of them, deep and curled up at an angle. You dig your nails into the desk either side of you to keep still, not wanting to seem as turned on as you truly are.

“I might have hoped for a little more fight,” He purrs, pulling his fingers out only to thrust them in again, “But that’s okay, I’m sure I can break you more.”

The subtle threat has you reeling, though you’re quite distracted with his fingers inside you. You don’t know what to expect, glancing down to his crotch, the bulge evident, even through his slacks. You gulp, and stifle a whine when he takes his fingers from you, using them to unbuckle his belt, unbutton his suit pants, letting them drop down and pool at his ankles.

“Sir,” You mumble, realisation setting in, “I… do I have to?”

It is a little bit of an act, your hesitation, but at the same time it isn’t, fearful that a few teasing motions of his fingers weren’t quite enough to get you ready for what looks to be an exceptionally large cock. You brace yourself as he tugs down his underwear, and watch as he strokes himself, though already at full hardness, just to slick himself up with the little bit of arousal that he pulled from you.

“You do,” He nods, stepping forward so that his thighs almost hit the desk, “And you will.”

He lets go of his cock to grab you under the thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk. You grip tightly to stop yourself from falling, and Baekhyun holds you with one hand on your hip, the other reaching for his erection. With a skill that you find way too hot, he uses two fingers of that hand to pull your panties aside, and guides his cock to your hole, teasing strokes along your slit, anticipation rising as you await his next move.

“Fuck!”

Baekhyun lets go of your hip to cover your mouth with his hand, “Quiet!” He orders you, but fuck, it is hard. His cock fills you painfully, thick, long and throbbing, your eyes roll back as you try to compose yourself, overwhelmed and now fully submitting out of fear.

He doesn’t give you any reprieve, keeping your mouth covered as he fucks you, hard and fast with no time to adjust. Your whines and moans are muffled by him, and you can’t quite pinpoint when the pain subsides and pleasure rolls in, but oh wow, it does.

“So tight,” Baekhyun groans, “This is all you’ll ever be good for if you don’t start focusing in class.”

You don’t respond, too distracted by the way he fills you up, and fucks in to you with no care for your own needs. It is degrading, his words and actions, but it turns you on more than you can explain.

“Or would you like that?” He continues, “Just serving me for the rest of your life instead? Wet and ready whenever I need my fill?”

Right now, you probably would say yes. Forgetting the degree you are so close to finishing, if you pass this year, you are drunk on his cock and would probably do anything for more.

“I might just get you pregnant,” Baekhyun goes on, and your body clenches as you realise he didn’t put a condom on, “Knock you up, force you out of your family, keep you as mine, so I can fuck you every single day.”

You are dizzy with both pleasure and with the lack of airflow, having your mouth held shut. You are sure that you look pathetic, but Baekhyun likes that, likes how easily you let him in, how utterly powerless you are compared to him.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” He sneers, “Turns you on so much when I treat you like the filthy slut that you are, doesn’t it?”

With tears in your eyes, your orgasm washes over you, legs shaking and nails leaving scratch marks on the wooden desk as you moan silent cries. You don’t know if any guy you have slept with ever got you to orgasm from penetration alone, so you are addicted to the way that Baekhyun has you feeling.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” He warns, “I want to see your tummy bulge, be a good girl and take it all.”

You whine a little as he moves his hand back down to your hip, now free to breathe again but still choked close to silent with the remnants of your orgasm. Baekhyun’s thrusts speed up, the harshness of them tenfold, and you watch sweat beads form on his forehead, biting his lip before he too climaxes, cock twitching in you with further thrusts, releasing his seed as deep into you as you can take it.

“Good girl,” He murmurs, pulling out of you slowly, but replacing his cock with his fingers to keep you plugged, “Can’t let any of this go to waste now, can we?”

You look up at him with glassy eyes, lips raw from biting on them to keep your volume down. You feel crazy, dazed and confused, a little afraid but still too fucked out to really process what is happening.

“Are… are you going to fail me?” You stutter, words a little slurred as he presses his thumb to your clit, fingers working to bring you to climax again.

Baekhyun works fast, wanting you to fall apart even further, and you aren’t sure how much more you can take. You can’t push him away, and you’re not sure if you even want to, focused on how good he makes you feel.

“Cum for me again,” He orders, “Need to feel you sucking me in, and then, I’ll make my decision.”

It isn’t hard to obey this order, the man is talented, and you wonder for only a moment, how many other students he has had on this very desk. Your thought is interrupted as your body seizes, cunt clenching to his fingers as your peak comes to head, biting your tongue to stifle the pitiful cry that escapes you, throwing your head back as tears roll down your face.

“Good girl,” He praises you, finally slowing down and extracting his fingers, readjusting your panties before he moves back from the desk, “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

You watch him as he pulls his pants back up, after wiping his hands with a tissue and sanitiser, and you catch your breath before asking again.

“So,” You start, “Am I going to fail?”

Baekhyun smirks at you, cocking his head to the side. He is so arrogant, and you are back to being mad at him again.

“No, I think you’ll pass,” He replies with an almost cheerful tone, “But if your attitude doesn’t change, just know I won’t go so easy on you next time.”

#kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #exo #exo fanfic #exo smut #Baekhyun #Byun Baekhyun #Baekhyun fanfic #Baekhyun smut #Byun Baekhyun smut #Byun Baekhyun fanfic #Baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #fic request

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lskisms · 11 months

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eat my love, c. berzatto

syn. carmen berzatto is a childhood best friend, your protector in everything. when he leaves for new york, he leaves you behind and in his absence, you realize just how deep your love for him runs. his return to chicago is just what you need.

gen. romance, angst (if you squint).

warnings. none.

word count. 1.8k.

playlist. restless, bibi. love scene, baekhyun. seasons, wave to earth. asleep, the smiths. wasteland baby, hozier.

forget religion, forget deities, forget all of it; you have been a devout follower of carmen berzatto for years. he’s the childhood best friend with just a few years and even more inches on you, the one who protected you in the schoolyard in elementary school, the one who showed up to the movie theater after you’d been stood up in high school, the one who made sure your college mini fridge was stocked all the time with food you only had to eat up in your microwave.

he’s been everything to you, protector and savior all in one go. so while you’re not quite sure when your feelings shifted from platonic to romantic (though it was definitely between his time in new york and his return to chicago), you’re not surprised that they have. maybe it’s the “obscene amount” (richie’s words, not yours) of contemporary romance novels you read, plenty of titles with a friends to lovers arc, that put this in your head and maybe that constantly riled up man has a point, but still, something about it feels inevitable.

when carmy left for new york, you worried about him, more than was probably necessary. it was the first time in your whole life that you’d be away from him and it wasn’t that either of you needed one another to look out, but having grown up with him as a constant presence in your life made it difficult to adjust to life without him. where he used to be a phone call and a trip on the l away, now he was a phone call and a plane ride, too many miles to fathom.

but you waited: waited for him to come home, waited for him to notice you, waited for him to reciprocate. it feels like your entire life all you’ve done is wait for him and you’ve been content with that, even if it is your own personal brand of psychological torment. because you know him like it’s etched into your very genetics, the ability to know him for who he is in a way that you can’t know anyone else.

and so when he returns to chicago, to home, to you, it feels monumental, even if it is under less than desired circumstances. he starts working his ass off almost the very second he gets off his flight; you don’t see him for the first few weeks he’s back in chicago. it’s through no fault of your own, of course, because you text him plenty and he responds, but they aren’t hitting the same beats they used to, and you worry.

but here he stands now, flannel coat and baseball cap and all, at your doorstep unannounced. it surprises you, seeing him here like this, because he hadn’t so much as even suggested the idea, but you can’t complain, not when this is the first time you’re seeing him in what feels like a lifetime.

“carmy,” you practically exhale, not even hesitating to step forward, wrap your arms around his neck, press yourself close against him. your nose buries into the collar of his coat and when you inhale, the scent is so entirely carmen berzatto; you hadn’t realized you could miss a smell this much, let alone a person.

you’re elated when his arms wind their way around your waist, both hands warm against your lower back. you stand just like this for moments that feel like they stretch into hours, taking in the fact that he’s back, he’s home.

“i missed you, loser,” you say into the thick fabric of his coat.

he scoffs against your shoulder, patting your back and pulling away from you to look you dead in the eye. “yeah, yeah, i missed you too.”

you share a small laugh, an even gentler smile, and you step aside to let him in. it’s the first place of yours that he’s never experienced. sure, he’d seen it in photos and facetime calls, but he’s never been here in person, the first place that is wholly you: no family, no friends, no college roommates. the essence of the apartment belongs solely to you.

and he sees that, sees you everywhere he looks. it’s in the way your shoes are organized by the front door, in the way that you keep one of his old jackets (stolen months before he left for new york) hung up on the coat rack, in the way that the photograph centered on your endtable isn’t one of your family but one of you two; it was snapped on senior prom night, which he hadn’t been able to attend due to his bad grades, but he’d gotten dressed up all nice for you anyways, so that you’d have nice pictures of the two of you together, even if he couldn’t be your date like you’d planned.

“nice place,” he remarks, looking around and taking in the parts of you he doesn’t know; books lined up on the shelves of your tv console, record player next to it, the succulents on the window sill. “better than that shithole you were living in when i left.”

you let out a breathy laugh, roll your eyes, close the front door behind you. “you mean the dorms? anything is better than that.”

you follow him deeper into your space, watching the way he watches everything else, takes everything in, like he’s relearning you from scratch. almost every second of the day, carmen is on, burner cranked up to high, one of the most intense people you’ve ever met, but here, you can tell he’s set to simmer, introspective in a way he’s not when he’s at work. it’s nice to see him with his guard down like this, cerulean eyes wide and searching.

the silence stretches out between you, but it doesn’t snap like a rubber band like you thought it would. quiet used to be easy with him and you’d been worried that the distance and time apart would change that, but it hasn’t; it’s still just as comforting as it had been.

but you have to break it, clearing your throat and looking away out the window. the sun is setting behind tall buildings, casting the sky a burnt orange (terracotta, maybe, you think). and with your string lights that glow soft, flaxen gold over your equally as soft sheer curtains, quiet music playing from spotify on your tv, this could not be a more romantic moment, at least in your mind.

“i worried about you, y’know… when you were in new york,” you say quietly, eyes trained on some point beyond the horizon. “i never really knew what you were up to over there and you were so far away… i don’t know, i guess i just missed being able to make sure you were taking care of yourself.”

his sneakers move gentle against the floorboards as he turns his whole body to face you. when you glance at him, he has an expectant look on his face like he knows you have more you want to say; whatever piece of you that knows him better than anything else, he has it too, he’s always been able to anticipate anything from you.

you shrug, look down at the floor. “i thought i’d be able to stop worrying when you came back ‘cause if you needed me, you’d be a train ride away again, but… carmy, you’ve been back for weeks and i think i’m worrying about you more than i did when you were gone.”

“you don’t gotta worry ‘bout me; sugar does enough of that for the both of ya,” he replies, voice soft in a way that he’s always reserved for you, special and one of a kind.

with a nod, you look back up at him, meet him with another shrug. “no, i know. just can’t help it, i guess… think i’ll always worry about you, one way or another.”

his hands fidget in the pockets of his coat, flexing and unflexing, rustling against the material. he lets out a sigh, looks out that same window, the sun lower than before. “i worried about you too. you can take care’a yourself, but… i was worried nobody’d have your back the way i do.”

“i mean… i have sugar and fak and them, i had mikey, but… they aren’t you. nobody could replace you.”

and when he looks back at you, you think he realizes that you mean it in more than one way. he’s not just your defender in everything, some self-appointed knight in shining armor; he’s the love of your life, has been for years probably. he stands here in the middle of your apartment that is every bit him as it is you and he sees you. his eyes lay you bare, roll out your psyche, understand you in a way that no potential romantic interest from the past few years has been able to because he has his own brand of knowing you, one that you’re so used to that it feels wrong coming from anyone else.

and he knows that just from staring at you. the inches between you feel like miles and your fingers twitch with unsnapped tension; you swear his do too because like clockwork, his feet scuff against your hardwood floor and he closes the distance, hands out of his pockets to cradle your face in them.

“you mean that?” he questions, his breath hot against your lips. his palms are calloused and warm, and you’re learning the feel of them in a way you’ve never had them before because this is new, but it’s what you’ve wanted for ages.

you nod, your eyelids fluttering and breath shallow. this close to him, you can make out all of the imperfections in his skin, the little dips and freckles. “wouldn’t lie about somethin’ like that, carmy. you know that.”

“just wanted to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

when he kisses you, it is unpracticed and unrefined but perfect in all the important ways: it’s him and he tastes like cigarettes covered up with spearmint gum and he is so warm. you kiss him back like you’re trying to make sure he knows the taste of your love, like a fine wine aged for years; you think he notices it.

“don’t worry about me no more,” he says against you without pulling away.

“that’s kinda my job,” you reply with a short, breathy laugh, your hands curling into the rough fabric of his coat.

“doesn’t need to be. i’ll take care of us.”

the words cut deep into a part of you that has gone untouched for years, something reserved for carmy and carmy alone. and he knows it’s there now, treats it with all the delicateness in the world as he kisses you again, apologizes for not realizing sooner, promises to make up for lost time. his touch, new and exciting, sets you alight everywhere and you are born again like phoenix out of ashes. to be loved like this by him is something you’ve dreamt of for years and now it’s yours and you don’t plan on letting go.

i’ll take care of us. you believe him.

#carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #.thebear #.carmy #.fic

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justwritedreams · 11 months

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Sexual Fantasies | Chanyeol

Chanyeol x Reader, bffs to lovers au! Word count: 2752 Genre: smut Author: maari Warnings: Mentions of alchool, me bringing back Chanyeol's iconic purple hoodie because yes that's a warning, masturbation (f), some explicit words, kinda corruption kink MDI!! THIS IS A +18 STORY Note: OKAAAY SOOO i kind of wrote it in 3 hours because i really liked the idea and i can say i'm really proud of this one. YEAH BYE Request: a request for chanyeol we’re he thinks y/n is innocent and treats her like a little sister and one day he hears her masturbate and moaning his name ⫷ Exo Masterlist

"Beer for everyone." Chanyeol announced as he held the bottles out to Kai, Sehun and Kyungsoo.

Y/N smiled, stopping her conversation with Sehun who was sitting next to her, she reached out her hands to grab her bottle.

"And for you, miss." Chanyeol snatched the bottle away from Y/N's hands before she could touch it and handed her another one. "Cola."

Her smile faded instantly and the boys laughed at her surprised face.

"Are you serious?" She asked irritably and Chanyeol pursed his lips, nodding in agreement. She took the bottle reluctantly. "You forget that I'm only 4 years younger than you, right?"

"A baby, practically." Kai spoke, to piss her off even more.

"You should drink milk." Sehun joked, taking a sip of his beer.

Y/N glared at him.

"I'm not the one crying because nobody wished me a happy birthday." She replied and Kyungsoo laughed out loud, nearly spitting out his beer.

Kai and Chanyeol laughed too when they saw Sehun's face wither.

"You're not funny." He complained and she rolled her eyes, returning her attention to Chanyeol who sat on the other side of the couch.

"Why can't I drink with you guys?" she didn't want to look like a child but it was impossible not to pout.

"Because I still remember perfectly how you look when you drink." he replied and she snorted.

"It was only once."

"You wanted to throw yourself in the pool."

"It was hot!"

"You can't even swim."

"I was going to float anyway."

"Your dress was white!"

"The family quarrel will last for how long?" Kyungsoo asked sarcastically.

Y/N crossed her arms and glared at him.

She hated it when they treated her like she was a little sister. She was a friend, nothing more.

And yet, it seemed that no one took it seriously. Mainly Chanyeol.

"I hate it when you guys do that." she complained and saw Kyungsoo raise his eyebrows, slightly confused. "You treat me like I'm a child." she stared at Chanyeol who was stretching his arm on the sofa, looking at her curiously. "Mostly you!"

"That's because you're innocent, Y/N." Kai said and she looked at him instantly.

"What?!" she asked, partially shocked. Because the other part thought it was funny.

That's why she started laughing, that idea was absurd.

But seeing that they were quiet, indicated that it was serious.

When she looked at Chanyeol, he had guilt in his eyes.

She blinked a few times.

"Oh come on!"

"But that has to do with your personality, Y/N." Sehun argued. "You're always so quiet and shy."

"Remember when you accidentally fell into Baekhyun's lap? You ran to hide."

Y/N felt her cheeks burn at the memory of what had happened.

It was all Chanyeol's fault, really. She had bought a new dress, a little shorter than what she was used to wearing but she loved how it looked on her body, she got up from the sofa at Suho's house - it was his engagement party - and Chanyeol got up from where he was about to cover her exposed legs with a blanket.

However, she was annoyed that he wanted to cover her legs all the time so she tried to stop Chanyeol. It wasn't a very smart decision because he kept wrapping the blanket around her waist, it brought him closer and made her flinch every time he tried to cover her up. And that made her fall into Baekhyun's lap because she hadn't seen the boy sitting down.

"Do you need to remember this every day?" she questioned, trying not to show that she was still ashamed of that.

And the way Chanyeol was looking at her was making her even more shy.

"Admit it, Y/N, you're innocent." Sehun shrugged and she stared at him, challenged.

"You guys really don't know me."

[...]

Y/N opened the door and heard hurried footsteps running towards her, trying to balance the purchases in her hands felt something jump on her leg, she smiled before she even looked.

And then barking echoed through the room.

"Hey Zzar, calm down girl!" she laughed and closed the door with one leg. "I hope you didn't wreck your father's house."

Y/N looked around and apparently everything was intact, this made her sigh and go to the kitchen, leaving her groceries on top of the counter. After she bent down to pick the dog up, Zzar gladly accepted and started licking Y/N's face, who just laughed.

"I know, I missed you too." She hugged the dog's body. "Let's make up for lost time, your father will take time."

Chanyeol had taken Toben to the vet to get some tests done as the dog seemed quieter than usual, which was really weird considering it was only calm when Y/N was around, but Chanyeol was worried since Toben wasn't eating right too.

And since Chanyeol couldn't take care of Zzar and Toben at the same time, he had asked for help from the only person he trusted. Y/N.

She already had the keys to his house, she was social enough for Zzar not to strange her presence, she was free to cook and even take a shower at Chanyeol's house.

And it wasn't like she could deny his request.

She could never resist his wide smile.

Even if it meant leaving work, tired, and heading straight to his place after stopping by the market.

Y/N took the opportunity to cook something and while leaving it on the stove, she put food for Zzar.

After eating and washing the dishes she had messed up, Y/N turned off the lights and went straight to Chanyeol's room and threw herself on the huge comfortable bed.

She laughed when she saw that Zzar tried to do the same thing as her, but without success. Y/N was about to pick the dog up and put it on the bed when her phone vibrated.

She looked up quickly, seeing that Chanyeol had sent her an audio message.

'I'm waiting for the doctor to call, he's going to talk to me about the x-ray.' Chanyeol grunted from the other side and Y/N swallowed hard, the tired and husky tone was a little too much for her. 'Thanks again for taking care of Zzar, I hope I'll be back home soon.'

Y/N took a deep breath before answering, saying that she would always be there when he needed her and that everything would work out.

She blocked the phone screen and left it next to her body while looking at the ceiling.

She knew he wasn't only tired but worried, and so was she. Both with Toben and Chanyeol.

However… Chanyeol's voice sent shivers through Y/N's body that she didn't even know was possible.

All she wanted was to be able to be by his side, hugging him tight, feeling his strong arms wrap around her tightly.

Y/N ran her hands over her face and took a deep breath again, that crush she had on her friend was pathetic and longstanding.

But there was no stopping it, he had everything she was looking for in a man and more.

In fact, Chanyeol had set the bar too high for any guy to reach. And the fact that Y/N couldn't find anyone who could come close to what Chanyeol was… was frustrating.

Y/N looked at Zzar who was lying beside the bed and staring at Y/N.

"Your dad is a idiot, you know that?" Zzar cocked the head to the side, seeming even interested in what Y/N was saying. "If he knew what his voice does to my legs, he would never speak around me again." Zzar continued to stare at Y/N. "And the worst thing is, he can't even imagine the influence he has on me. I'm a fool, right?" Zzar raised the hind legs and wagged its tail. "Of course I am, I'm pouring my heart out to a dog."

Y/N sighed, her whole body feeling tired but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until Chanyeol arrived.

However, being stubborn, she even tried to take a nap, but she turned from side to side, even with her eyes closed, sleep didn't come.

And honestly, that outfit was bothering her. Lying down in jeans and a blouse with pearl details was hurting her, that's why she decided to strip down to her underwear and got out of bed, going to Chanyeol's wardrobe to put on one of his sweatshirts.

She touched his clothes, his perfume was impregnated in everything there, and she laughed softly when she found the famous purple sweatshirt.

It had been so long since she had seen him wear that sweatshirt, she smiled mischievously and put it on right away.

Of course, it was twice her size but it could still read the red 'Sexual fantasies' lettering.

She thought he'd thrown that sweatshirt away, but it was tucked away in the back of his wardrobe.

Y/N took the opportunity to go to the bathroom and Zzar followed after going on its way to who knows where, Y/N laughed at the thought that the dog had also gone to do her business.

After washing her hands, Y/N looked at her reflection in the mirror and laughed as she remembered Sehun's words from the other day.

"Admit it, you're innocent."

Imagine what he and the guys would think to see her wearing that sweatshirt.

Like a click, a rather evil idea flashed through Y/N's head and her eyes widened as she realized what she had been thinking.

Okay, she wasn't that innocent but she wasn't a pervert either.

She left the bathroom, shaking her head as if to dismiss that thought and went back to the bedroom, expecting Zzar's company but the dog wasn't there.

Y/N threw herself on the bed again and looked back at the bedroom ceiling, trying to control her breathing but the idea wouldn't leave her head.

She didn't need to touch herself then and there just to prove to herself that she wasn't as pure as others thought she was.

But on the other hand, no one would ever know. Wearing Chanyeol's sweatshirt in his bed would be like committing a crime.

Maybe not that serious.

But it was dangerous. That's why it was so tempting.

Y/N's breathing started to get heavier as her head convinced her that this was going to be a secret that no one would ever suspect, she brought her thumbnail to her mouth as she pondered practically giving in to temptation.

And she only needed one thing to convince herself, remembering Chanyeol's audio.

His growl had activated something in her, her most intimate and secret fantasies. The most sexual.

Her heart was pounding and she kept her eyes closed as she imagined Chanyeol growling like that in her ear, and then kissing every inch of her neck while his firm and large hands touched her body shamelessly.

How sweet the low moans he would let out, and the dirty words he would speak so close to her ear.

Just imagining it, she shivered all over, her body temperature rose and she felt a certain discomfort in her lower abdomen as well as a fire that rose from her legs to the middle of them.

Y/N took her hand to her panties but figured it was Chanyeol's fingers slowly teasing her.

Now, she needed to finish what she started and she had enough imagination for that.

She was too lost in her own fantasy to hear the front door close, Chanyeol arrived with Toben on his lap.

The poor dog was doped with medicine that would help with the stomach problem it was having, at least he was sure that the little animal was getting better. Chanyeol hated seeing Toben so quiet, it was even weird.

Chanyeol looked for Y/N with his eyes but he didn't find her there so he took the opportunity to take Toben to its bed, after petting the pet's fur, he started looking for Y/N around the house.

She wasn't in the kitchen, he found Zzar sleeping next to the couch but Y/N wasn't there so he just thought she was in his room.

And he wasn't going to complain because he knew how much she liked his bed, and he wasn't planning on going there either because he wanted to curl up on the couch and go to sleep.

However, he didn't even sit on the sofa because he heard a muffled groan. Frowning, he stayed silent to make sure he wasn't delusional and he was sure when he heard it again coming from his room.

Curious, he made his way towards the bedroom in slow, silent steps. Was Y/N having nightmares or…

"Chanyeol." He stopped where he was when he heard the moan now louder and it had nothing to do with dreams, he knew that moan well but not coming from Y/N. That was why his eyes were wide. "Please, faster."

He felt the blood rush through his veins and pool in two places: his ears, which should have been red, and well…his cock.

The sound was low but still erotic. Something he never thought he'd hear from Y/N, it was so sensual that even going against his morals his feet carried him towards the bedroom door.

He swallowed hard and clenched his hands into fists when he had the privileged view of Y/N lying on his bed, with her panties pushed to the side while her fingers entered and left her quickly.

He smirked when he saw that she was wearing his purple sweatshirt.

Naughty, was all he thought.

Chanyeol wasn't even breathing, he wanted to be able to capture every sound Y/N made, be it the pained moans that came out of her mouth or the sound of her fingers desperately touching her intimacy.

"Chanyeol, I wanna cum. Please."

Heavens, he could never have imagined her saying that, but now that he had heard it, he felt every part of his body become electrified.

Y/N panted and arched as her fingers circled her clit, eyes closed as the most pornographic sounds came out he was sure she was close.

Chanyeol felt his pants get tighter and tighter as he got excited to see the scene.

"Fuck, more. Oh my God." and then he saw her squirm and her mouth open in a perfect O as a loud, drawn-out moan echoed through the house. As she moaned his name.

He felt every hair on his body stand on end and it took a lot of self-control not to bring his hand to the erection that was now apparent.

Y/N took a deep breath as spasms followed the orgasm, and Chanyeol felt his mouth water at the sight of her pussy all wet and shiny as Y/N removed her fingers to adjust her panties back into place.

He would have laughed at Y/N's shocked face when she turned her head and saw him standing in the open doorway, if he wasn't completely aroused and ready to do something crazy.

Y/N's mouth opened a few times but no sound came out, it didn't even sound like she was the one moaning seconds ago, and she blinked more than usual. She was speechless.

That's why he took the opportunity to enter the room, being watched by her, and go to the bed, kneeling on the mattress without taking his eyes off her.

Y/N felt her eyes flicker as Chanyeol bent down so that his face was closer to hers, both of their breaths were panting and Y/N didn't even move.

"You're a very bad girl, you know that?" he whispered, bringing a hand to her thigh and Y/N sighed. "And do you know what happens to bad girls?" she shook her head and Chanyeol lightly slapped her skin, making her moan in surprise. "They are punished."

"Please." she asked and he ran his hand over her sodden panties up to the sweatshirt she was wearing.

"Pretty conducive, don't you think?" he referred to the phrase and she bit her bottom lip.

"I was hoping it wasn't just fantasy." She replied quietly and Chanyeol brought his face more close to hers, their noses touching.

"Don't worry, tonight won't be."

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hugs2doie · 9 months

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now playing — amusement park by baekhyun

“shall we go to the ferris wheel or would you like the roller coaster better?” haechan asked as you two walked towards the entrance of the amusement park, hand in hand.

amusement park dates were your favorite; you and haechan came here once in a while to completely be carefree just a few moments and enjoy each others’ presence.

“roller coaster? then the ferris wheel.” and so you did.

“baby let’s get ice cream!” haechan said excitedly when he saw an ice cream stand that was close to an empty bench, after you two hopped off the ferris wheel. “what flavor would you like?”

after you both got your ice creams, you sat down on the bed and begun talking about life, well, mostly you went on a rant, (and it was kinda weird cause it’s always haechan who does that.) while haechan listened to every word you said while keeping eye-contacts with you, as he spoke here and there.

“we need to go to the haunted house!” haechan said after you both were done with your ice creams & with talking. “you sure? i think you’re gonna get a little scared there, no?” you playfully said, but you knew it was true.

haechan being the one with his ego touching a skyscraper, didn’t even hesitate to reply. “me?! you gotta watch out for yourself, you’ll be clinging to me the whole time.” he scoffed and said confidently.

so here you one again, hand in hand, inside the haunted house, one clinging to another and oh! would you look at that? it’s haechan clinging onto you and screaming on top of his lungs! surprise. but it was fun so you enjoyed it. (especially when you two went to the merry-go-round, and you got a forehead kiss from him.)

but honestly, no matter how much rides you went on, how much ice cream you ate, how much haunted houses you got jumpscared on, haechan was there, you enjoyed everything you did with him, he lit up your world so easily,

haechan is your amusement park.

#i wanted to makw this into a full fic goodbye #cmon i obv had to use a baekhyun song like thats HIS fathwr #nct #nct headcanons #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct dream #nct dream fluff #nct dream headcanons #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #nct dream x reader #nct dream haechan #haechan fluff #nct haechan #haechan imagines #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan drabbles

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icequeenbae · 5 months

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Boy Next Door (m) Ch.1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings [whole story]: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 4.5k (pt.1)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

Chapter Masterlist: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: This has taken me so, SO long to write and edit that I cannot believe the time has come to post it lmao I just wanted to write something simple with the classic boy-next-door vibe but as usual, the story ended up being much longer than planned and I am going to post it as a mini-series. Please keep in mind that your feedback is what motivates me to write and post more <3 And biiig thanks to the lovely @beomcoups for taking on the beta duties on this whole story~

Network Tags: @bbh-net @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

PART 1

In the lobby or on your floor – those were the two locations where you’d been bumping into Baekhyun most often. Which wasn’t that strange, considering that you were neighbors. But it somehow always caught you off guard and left you flustered.

Just like the first time.

It happened almost a year ago when you were waiting for the elevator on the first floor of your building with your best friend Yuki, who came early to help you with preparations. A guy in a loose white dress shirt and jeans stepped into the elevator with you, politely greeting you before pressing his floor number.

‘Oh, you live on the 13th as well? So, you and our Y/N are neighbors!’ Yuki exclaimed.

‘Nice to meet you,’ you muttered and bowed, shy from the sudden introduction. He reciprocated, chocolate hair falling into his eyes charmingly.

‘You should come to her housewarming party! It’s in a couple hours,’ Yuki chimed in again. ‘You don’t need to bring anything, it’s just a small thing with a couple friends and neighbors. We’re making sure Y/N-ie settles in nicely here. So please come, we have tons of food!’

If anyone could ever say no to your friend… Well, you had never met such a person. You guessed that Baekhyun was simply too stunned by her enthusiasm, so he said he’d swing by for sure. In a way, you were thankful that she’d asked him – you’d have never had the guts to invite someone like that; especially not anyone as good-looking and cool as Baekhyun.

You regretted letting your bestie invite him the following evening when your party was in full swing for several hours. Most of the food was devoured, so now you were all drinking, crunching on snacks, and conversing; or trying to while jumping from one topic to another.

‘I wish we could gather more often. We all like to hang out with you, you know?’

As always, Yuki nagged at you for being too ‘stay-at-home’ of a friend.

‘I like to hang out too. But home is home. You know parties aren’t really my… favorite pastime.’

‘What is your favorite pastime, lying in bed cuddling your blanket?’ Chanyeol joked insensitively.

He should’ve known better since you were the most troubled in your group of friends regarding relationships. It was super tough for you to find a match, even when you made an effort to get out of the house and meet new people, mostly because of your history of failed relationships where your partners gained interest in someone else. It seemed like you were too plain to hold someone’s attention for long. So, you’d been ‘that single friend’ for several lonely years now. And at this time, you were actually in the very beginning of a new, promising relationship. You were still pretty insecure about it; thus, Yeol’s comment really did make you flinch. He was drunk, so that was understandable, but you still sulked at his words, mainly because they were true.

‘Hey, it doesn’t have to be a blanket.’ You frowned, pressing the straw to your lips in frustration.

‘I’m kinda sad that guy you’ve been talking to couldn’t come,’ Yuki interjected. ‘I wanted to find out what he’s like.’

‘Minho had work-related travel, so he’s resting up.’ You shrugged, sipping your drink timidly.

‘I’m sure the guy made this excuse just to avoid meeting your friends. How long have you known him for, like, two days?’ Chanyeol interjected.

‘It’s been a few weeks, actually,’ you corrected, and Hoseok, Yuki��s boyfriend, muttered a reproaching ‘hyung’ in his direction.

‘Gosh, you’re really this stupid while drunk,’ Yuki shook her head disapprovingly at your friend, who simply shrugged.

Baekhyun was pretty silent during the latest exchange, so when you briefly made eye contact, it reminded you that he could also hear all of that chatter. Which made you want to choke on your drink from humiliation. Thankfully, one of your friends still had some tact left that night, so they quickly changed the direction of the conversation. Still… you’d been mortified for weeks after the event, doing your best to avoid bumping into Baekhyun when leaving for work.

***

The next time you met, Baekhyun was also in the lobby of your apartment building. And once again, before a gathering at your place. Just days prior you had lost it and left your resignation letter at your boss's desk. Working such long hours under the constant pressure of absolutely unrealistic deadlines was taking its toll on you for sure. But when you found out they promoted a person, who was obviously less experienced and capable than you in working (but more capable in flirting with your manager), instead of you… It became the last straw.

Baekhyun appeared right on time as you struggled to push the elevator button with a whole case of beer in your hands.

‘Y/N,’ you heard his velvety voice call. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Oh- Hi, Baekhyun.’ You greeted awkwardly, puffing from the weight you had to balance.

‘Let me help you with that?’ His suggestion sounded like a question, yet he instantly scooped the case from your hands.

‘You don’t need- thank you,’ you said, and he shook his head to indicate that it wasn’t a big deal.

‘So… having a party again?’ He asked as the elevator doors closed.

‘I wouldn’t call it a party,’ you hummed, looking at your feet. ‘I kinda had to quit my horrible job of 4 years, so my friends are making me celebrate it. Not that becoming unemployed calls for a celebration…’

You trailed off, not wanting to be a nuisance to your neighbor. He was just making small talk.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Are you taking a break now or looking for something else?’

‘I’ll start looking next week. It’s Friday, my friends are coming… So I’ll try to just clear my mind and rest for one full weekend before I start stressing about a new job. Hopefully, my friends wouldn’t talk my ear off about it – that’s what the beer’s for. My little trick,’ you chuckled sheepishly.

‘Aren’t your friends supposed to treat you in this situation?’ Baekhyun huffed, shaking his head to rearrange his hair and better see you.

‘They should… bring more alcohol with them, I think. I couldn’t have them over for nothing, though.’

The doors opened after a robotic voice announced your floor.

‘Well, anyhow. Thanks a lot for your help!’ You tried taking the beer from Baekhyun, but he didn’t let you.

‘Open the door first; you can’t do it while holding this.’

‘Right. Thanks,’ you fussed, pressing your password in.

Baekhyun quickly placed the case on the floor of your hallway.

‘You should come!’ You blurted out, instantly getting flustered. ‘If you want.’

‘I might drop by if I’m free,’ he smiled softly. ‘My family wanted to have a video call later. That may take long.’

‘Of course. Have fun!’ You nodded, beating yourself up in your mind for being so weird suddenly.

‘You have fun,’ he chuckled, stepping towards his apartment. ‘Oh, and Y/N?’

Looking up at him as he called your name, you were met with his warm yet serious eyes.

‘If you need anything… You know where to find me.’

That made you strangely sentimental.

‘T-thank you.’

He sent you a message later on and let you know he couldn’t make it to your party. But in a way, he was there – on your mind.

***

It was about three weeks after you’d broken things off with Minho. If you could even consider it one, the relationship wasn’t long, only a couple months. At first, you thought it could be something, realizing later that it was only wishful thinking. There was no way the two of you could make it work; you were just not compatible with each other. The more you got to know him, the more you were reassured of that. Your life goals were different, your outlook on relationships was different… even your ideas of quality time with a significant other didn’t match. This time, the initial infatuation wore off rather quickly – probably because you didn’t go out of your way to appease him. You knew it was probably for the better. Pretty much all of your relationships ended the same way, with your boyfriends telling you they found someone else. Someone… more exciting.

This was the case for your first relationship halfway in your first year of university.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t feel the spark, you know? You’re so… domestic,’ your then-boyfriend said in his breakup speech. ‘I’m young, I want to experience stuff, be bold, and have fun. And there are people that I can do this with, who’ll also enjoy it.’

It repeated less than two years later when you’d barely worked up the courage to try and start something with another person. When it happened the third time, you decided you weren’t really made for relationships. It was ironic since you always wanted to be in one. You were very affectionate and were keen on taking care of people. Yes, you weren’t that into big gatherings and parties, and maybe it was a little too difficult to drag you anywhere when you were stressing about the upcoming tests and stuff… But you weren’t completely closed off! Even with those limitations, you were very sociable and had many friends. Was it so bad that you didn’t say yes to every suggestion? Did your inclination to stay at home and have cozy dates instead of outdoorsy stuff make you a non-relationship material? It seemed like every time someone else appeared, your boyfriends easily decided to move on.

And even though you weren’t in love with Minho, this breakup still made you sour. What made this particular day suck was that you’d found out that he was already in a new relationship; happily broadcasting it everywhere.

You weren’t jealous of him for being with someone else. You envied him for being able to find another partner in mere days after you parted ways, while for you, it felt like you’d never find or be able to retain anyone. Ever. Never ever.

‘Earth to Y/N!’ You jumped from someone’s voice ringing in your ears.

Looking up, you saw that the elevator doors were held open by your dashing neighbor, who was staring directly at you.

‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you quickly entered. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey,’ Baekhyun smiled, pressing the button for your floor. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Um, yeah. No. I mean-’ You sighed. ‘I’m just a bit out of sorts.’

‘Trouble at work?’

‘No, my new job is great. A huge improvement on the previous one. It’s just… everything else is not nearly as great?’

Yeah, because you pushed yourself to get back on the market to finally not be alone, and here you were. Back to square one.The sniffling you produced startled even your own self.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ he replied, his voice gentle. ‘Do you want to talk?’

‘Oh no, I wouldn’t dream about boring you with my stupid problems.’

‘I’m sure they aren’t stupid,’ he said. ‘And I have ice cream. Almost any flavor you could think of.’

You looked at him silently, and he smiled again reassuringly.

‘It’s not mandatory for you to tell me anything. But I can treat my favorite neighbor with some ice cream, can I not?’

‘Am I your favorite just because you don’t know anyone else?’ You snickered gawkily.

‘No. Not just-’

He was interrupted by the usual announcement of your floor.

‘So, what do you think? You can change first and then come, no hurry. I’m free tonight.’

You puckered your lips, genuinely intrigued by his offer. Ice cream sounded perfect right about now. Although agreeing just because of the promised treats was pretty childish, you couldn’t help but be seduced by his suggestion. So, you gave him a shy nod.

‘Okay. Throw on something comfy and come over.’

You entered your respective apartments, and only after the door behind you locked… you realized that your heart was racing.

‘Damn you, Y/N, why did you agree to do this??’ You whined, catching a glimpse of your scrunched-up face in the mirror.

Fishing your phone out of your handbag quickly, you messaged Yuki.

You | I fucked up, Yu!!

You | Idk what to do now…. ㅠㅠ

Ki-yaah | What happened?? Did you like a pic on Minho’s new gf’s SNS??

Ki-yaah | I’m so dumb for telling you about this… I’m so sorry Y/N ㅠㅠ

You | No, not that

You | Who cares about Minho and his girlfriend??

You | I mean, I was a bit salty about this… But I met Baekhyun again!

Ki-yaah | Baekhyun? Your cute as fuck neighbor Baekhyun??

You | No

You | Yes?

You | My neighbor Baekhyun. I blurted out that I wasn’t in the greatest mood, and he invited me to his place for ice cream!

Ki-yaah | WHAT

Ki-yaah | YAH

Ki-yaah | THAT SLEEK BASTARD

Ki-yaah | I hope you’re texting me from his couch

Ki-yaah | Or kitchen counter

Ki-yaah | Or wherever you kids decide to do it

A bunch of obscene emojis appeared on your screen, making you blush on the spot.

You | Do it?? We’re not doing anything. I’m home!

Ki-yaah | So, you’ve already done it?? HOW WAS IT??

Ki-yaah | Waaah, you’re quick these days, Y/N-ah! Finally, you’re learning your lessons

Ki-yaah | I hope you wrapped it up though

Ki-yaah | I wouldn’t blame you if you skipped it, though, I can imagine how starved you are on good sex.. Still, safety first!

Ki-yaah | Wait, so was he?? Any good??

Ki-yaah | You’re silent!

She typed so fast that you didn’t even have a second to write back, mostly from shock – your friend wasn’t always this shameless, actually.

Then she started calling.

‘Yah, why aren’t you spilling the beans?? Too worn out to type, bestie?’ She smirked on the phone, making you cringe.

‘Because there’s nothing to spill! I haven’t even gone over yet.’

There was a second of silence.

‘… What?!’

‘I have to change; I just came from work, you know? My makeup needs fixing too…’

Your phone instantly started vibrating as a video call request came in, which you begrudgingly accepted.

‘Damn, you can’t go like this. It’s not seductive at all!’ She exclaimed.

‘I’m not going over to seduce anyone! And he told me to wear something comfy…’

‘What?? Hm, actually…’ She tapped her index finger on her chin, deep in thought. ‘He does look like the type to be into that.’

‘I-into what?’

‘Cute girls! I told you already, he was probably crushing on you since the time he came to your housewarming party!’

‘Pfft, that’s ridiculous. And don’t bring up him allegedly glaring at Yeol for his stupid comments again, I beg of you!’

‘Alright. But he’s always so nice to you! Oh-Em-Gee, you’d look so cute together,’ she squealed.

‘I don’t have time for this. I can’t have him waiting for much longer, and I need to shower…’

‘Yes! And remove your makeup while you’re at it.’

‘Huh?? If I redo my makeup… isn’t it gonna look strange? Like I’m trying too hard?’

‘You won’t have to redo it. You’ll have only very basic nude makeup on. Looking all natural and cute.’

‘I swear, if you say ‘cute’ one more time-’

‘Can’t a girl dream?? I can already imagine how cute your children would be…’ Your friend kept musing.

‘I’m hanging up.’

‘Yah, take this seriously. Clean up nicely, and let your hair down. Also, shave your-’

‘Yuki!!’

‘You never know!! One second, he’s licking ice cream off his spoon; the other, he’s l-’

Quickly tapping on your phone screen, you canceled this embarrassing call. The vivid images didn’t leave your mind as fast, though, so you shivered, shaking your head to get rid of the obscenities.

‘She’s a bad influence, for sure,’ you muttered, still ashamed of yourself for imagining your neighbor in such a context.

The time was ticking, so you decided that Yuki was somewhat right and needed to clean up. You also needed to hurry the heck up; you didn’t want to make Baekhyun wait too long. Thirty minutes later, you were in front of his door.

‘Come in, come in,’ he ushered you inside, having you change your footwear for the pink house slippers.

Why did he have those again?

‘Cute, right? I ordered them for my niece and got the size completely wrong, but they fit you perfectly. I guess I wasn’t wrong after all.’

He looked at your feet for another second before blinking and clearing his throat.

‘Let’s not waste any more time, everything’s ready. Come on!’

Everything? Did he prepare a whole reception?

You took a good look at the back of his head as he walked you to his kitchen, noticing that his hair was slightly wet. Did he also shower? You swallowed at the thought. He probably didn’t invest as much time into the preparations as you did, though. You blamed your best friend for the inappropriate thought she planted in your head!

‘Here, take a look.’

He opened his freezer, and you gasped.

There was an entire collection of ice cream. Cones, popsicles, buckets… All different flavors and manufacturers.

‘I see you’re impressed,’ he smirked. ‘I have a niece and a nephew, you know? Kids aren’t easy to please these days.’

‘Can’t deny that I am. How many do you have here?’

‘No idea… I just keep buying them. Which one’s to your liking? You can try different ones. I’m in the mood for mint choco and lemon.’

‘Those are my favorites!’ You jumped up like a kid.

‘Really? Both?’

‘Yeah! I haven’t seen a lemon ice cream anywhere, only sorbets! Where did you find it?’ You closed the freezer as he got the two buckets out.

Baekhyun suddenly seemed pleased with himself.

‘You think I give away trade secrets just like that…’ He replied mysteriously.

‘I wanna buy some too,’ you pouted, circling around him while he took the lids off. ‘If you don’t tell me… I’ll eat all of yours!’

‘Ha, go ahead. There’s more where that came from,’ he teased right back, hovering slightly over you.

Lowering your gaze to avoid staring directly at him, you noticed something.

‘What’s this?’

Baekhyun turned back to the counter.

‘Ah, this old thing? You know how ice cream scoops are sold in paper cups or cones? This thing,’ he picked it up. ‘Is to make those. Watch.’

He dipped the instrument in water and shook it slightly, then scooped the mint ice cream, creating a smooth green ball with tiny pieces of chocolate adding to its hue.

‘Cool,’ you muttered, genuinely finding that fascinating.

‘Right? It’s awesome!’

‘Let me guess: the kids don’t appreciate it enough?’ You asked.

‘Those little- Here, you try with lemon.’ He pressed on a small lever and dropped the green globe into a bowl.

You shook your head.

‘I’ll mess it up; you do it.’

‘Come on, Y/N. You can’t mess it up; it’s just ice cream.’

‘Just ice cream? You don’t deserve to know the secret selling spots for this!’

He snorted, moving to the side to give you more space to try and repeat his previous actions.

You dipped it in water like he did and shook it before moving the lemon ice cream bucket closer. Spending about twenty seconds taking aim, you huffed.

‘I can’t do it! Yours is so round and pretty; I am not that professional.’

‘I’ll help,’ he chuckled at your meltdown, holding your wrist and softly pressing down on your hand to guide it. ‘Scoop it this way to make it full and round.’

You did as you were told, yet your mind was far away from the scooping technique. The entire focus of your being was now set on the unprecedented proximity you were in. He held your hand, his chest so close to your shoulder that you could feel the heat radiating off him. When you dropped a yellow ball of lemon ice cream into the bowl, you could only pray that he didn’t notice the goosebumps littering your arms.

‘See? Yours is even better-shaped than mine,’ he hummed close to your ear.

‘Y-yeah.’

As if sensing your perturbation, Baekhyun suddenly stepped back.

‘Trying just two flavors is a waste of an evening. Let’s get more.’

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in his living room at the small table in front of his couch. The bowl with at least a dozen different ice creams sat atop another one, which was filled with ice.

‘No one likes melted goo, right?’ Baekhyun chuckled while constructing this mobile freezer.

You tried all of them one by one, gushing about each flavor.

‘The grape one isn’t tickling my fancy,’ he said, nudging the oddly-colored glob away.

‘Really?’ You reached for it with your spoon.

‘Don’t even try it. That’s bad,’ he scrunched his nose. ‘I can taste every chemical they used to make this grape flavor.’

You laughed, trying it despite his protests.

‘It tastes like… very cheap jelly,’ you said.

‘Exactly! Such a strange texture. Hmm, I shall look for a better option then. My nephew Siwoo loves grapes.’

You smiled at his concern for his youngest family member’s preferences.

‘Your nephews must be the happiest kids in town with an uncle like that,’ you murmured, stealing a bite from the rest of the lemon ball that he subtly nudged your way earlier.

‘They’re pretty lucky, aren’t they?’ He agreed easily, earning a snicker from you.

As you savored the last of the lemon flavor on your tongue, he leaned in, eyes focused on your lips.

‘You eat just like Siwoo,’ he instinctively wiped your lower lip with his thumb.

Looking up at him, you caught the moment he realized what he was doing and retreated.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered awkwardly. ‘It’s a habit.’

Pressing your finger to your lower lip, which was now burning, you shook your head neutrally.

‘It’s okay. You must spend a lot of time with them,’ you scooped more in your spoon to somehow soothe the burn on your lips.

‘Not as much as I’d like. Most of the time, our schedules don’t match up, especially with them living in a different city. I try to have them over or visit them as much as possible.’

Baekhyun’s voice became warmer as he reminisced.

‘I get scolded by hyung a lot for spoiling them. But what can I do? At least they’ll have those pleasant memories and presents to remember me by while we’re apart.’

‘Are they close in age?’

‘About four years apart. Seoyul is pretty grown already; I can’t believe her little brother is going to school soon as well.’ He smiled, remembering something. ‘When she started her first grade, he was so upset. He cried every time she left the house.’

‘Aw, that’s so cute,’ you cooed. ‘So they’re getting along well?’

‘Yeah, apart from the occasional bickering. Siwoo is… a boy.’

‘A little daredevil?’

‘He’s driving his noona insane sometimes. To be honest, I was exactly the same at his age. We’re both lucky to have siblings several years older.’

‘Ah, so your hyung is much older than you?’

‘Seven years. He was almost like a father,’ Baekhyun chuckled. ‘But had he been even a couple of years younger… Pretty sure he would’ve given me a piece of his mind back then.’

‘I wouldn’t ever imagine that you were a maknae of your family.’

‘Why? I had so much aegyo as a child! Yes, my mom had to exercise lots of patience, but I was cute as hell.’

‘I’m sure that’s how it was,’ you hummed.

‘I’m still in the top-3 cutest of our family list. Might even be cuter than Seoyul at times; she’s way too serious these days.’

‘Wow, going over your nephews’ heads after the title… How mature of you.’

‘Hey, don’t blame me for being extremely cute.’

‘Show me some aegyo then,’ you challenged him with a smile.

‘Huh, you wish. You’re not ready for my aegyo, Y/N-ie.’ He responded sassily.

‘Is that so?’ You smirked, holding his gaze up until the chime of your phone provided an interruption.

Your bestie found a great time to pry into your business, which was evident from the message previews on the screen.

Ki-yaah | You’re not texting me back…

Ki-yaah | Which either means that you chickened out…

Ki-yaah | …or his stamina is REALLY freaking impressive

Ki-yaah | Which one is it??? I hope it’s the latter!

You inhaled sharply and started coughing, barely managing to swipe those messages off the screen before Baekhyun could see them.

‘Are you okay?’ He patted you on the back to help you overcome your coughing fit.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t realize it was so late… It was so rude of me to keep you up. Let me help you clean this up.’

‘Leave it,’ he shook his head, catching you by the wrist. ‘I’ll put this away later.’

‘I’ll… get going then,’ you stood so abruptly that your legs couldn’t keep up with you, completely numb from being in the same position for so long.

‘Y/N!’ Baekhyun rose to catch you by the arms. ‘Take a second, sit on the couch. Your legs must’ve fallen asleep.’

You swatted at your legs with your palms, urging the blood flow to restore quicker.

‘Sorry…’

‘Why are you sorry? I’m not in a hurry to get rid of you.’ He stated simply.

‘It’s just so late… and… you must have stuff to do.’

‘Nope. I actually had fun. I rarely get to sit around at home munching on ice cream and enjoying another grownup’s company.’

You bit your lip shyly at his words, and he suddenly tsked.

‘Although I feel like we were mostly talking about me. That’s a shame. I want to hear about you as well,’ Baekhyun mused, walking you to the door. ‘Well, let’s save it for next time.’

Next time, he said.

Next time??

You turned your back on him to conceal the shade of your cheeks and pretended to fidget with the doorknob.

‘Let me,’ he reached over you, pressing his warm chest to your back for a second to unlock the door.

But before you could step outside, his fingers wrapped around your forearm in a lax hold.

‘And Y/N… If you ever find yourself craving some lemon ice cream… I’m ready to provide it.’

With that, he pushed the door open and allowed you to leave his apartment.

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Another BBH mini-series started 💫 I hope you enjoyed part 1~ Pls let me know what you think via comments, asks and reblogs, my darlings 💜 Also, I am very curious if you are picturing anyone in particular as Hoseok hehe 🙃

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