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#my back however not so fantastic

fstbmp-a · 1 year

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A friend inspired me with smth so I'm finally going to pop off and sound like the pretentious art college grad I secretly am

Writing canon characters is a farce. You're writing your character.

"Mirth what do you mean"

Thank you, strawman, allow me to elaborate. The second an author picks up a character, it is instantly their own. People put too much stake into fitting the mold, when really, you have ceased being a proper canon character the nanosecond you have initiated writing. You are writing your interpretation and, arguably, that cannot be considered the same.

You are INSPIRED. That's marvelous. That's fantastic, even. Your mind is fundamentally different from everyone else's, meaning this character, inspired by whatever take you enjoy most, is going to be irreplaceably unique. No matter what or who changes, that is a constant!

You're allowed to change and develop your character, unbound by whatever canon says or does. Roleplaying is a collaborative front and, frankly, you should be allowed to be as free with your muse as you wish. Get inspired by works, allow your characters to change and grow-- heck, if you get so inspired that it's so fucking different from canon it has to become an OC? THAT'S FUCKING INCREDIBLE!!! GO FOR IT!!!

You're a WRITER! Your work is irreplaceable because there will NEVER be another you and that's so freeing! You aren't held down by anything save yourself! If inspiration strikes, go for it! The entire purpose of this artform is to INSPIRE AND BE INSPIRED! So fuck around! Find out! That's the point! That's SICK AS FUCK!!!

Anyways, that's all! Have a good one, everybody!

#My Kingdom ;; OOC #I had more to say but really this was the main point #i've been around AWHILE and I always see people like #worried to branch out or worried that other people are going to replace them (i get that sm honey)#but! that's fundamentally impossible! everyone's vision of the world is so fantastically different #and you can write your version of characters however you wish because it will always be unique #and if you want to branch out all the more and just turn your version of a character into an OC?#fuck i've seen that once or twice and that's SO. DAMN. POWERFUL.#because that's just utter confirmation of this y'know? your take is so unique that it's become an entirely new thing #and that's just.. that's just SO fucking cool. never be afraid to be unique okay?#sure people might not like it. people may say otherwise.#but they're not YOU! they'll never ever know your take unless you! write it!#so write it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#okay i'm done now i'm going back to being busy i just. writing is so powerful...#and i'm always happy when i see people really branch out.#or get really sad when people find themselves replaceable because it's not possible imo

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losyash · 2 years

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sometimes it feels like I've seen every khr Tumblr post between 2017 and 2020

and like fine I can go searching for older posts I do it all the time but when I want to read headcanons I can't find any older than 2016 ;-;

#i DO however find deleted confession blogs and God knows people's opinions back then were boring #just saw one that said that khr is full of fantastic characters and like #bestie #with all my love for khr #half of characters has like 2 traits at most #RIGHT SHIMON #u have to give them flavor urself #it's like build-a-bear except I've never seen one so maybe actually not

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pjsfvs · 3 months

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breeding kink hc - Mark Lee

paring : husband!mark x afab!reader

warnings/tags : very nsfw, mentions of pregnancy, oral sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluff, breeding kink, Mark going AT it

summary : mark will do whatever it takes to get you pregnant.

a/n : this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday on 1/27 but i posted the Sunoo hc instead. Also, if you have any requests, you can leave them in my inbox! and don't leave hate comments for me to see. if you don't like it just block me and leave.

Having a child together was always something Mark and you knew would happen for you. Brushed lightly on the subject, you clearly remember the way Mark’s eyes would light up when you’d mentioned earlier in your relationship, that you wanted children.

Now, married in bliss with your second anniversary approaching, Mark had started to get a little impatient. You both knew you wanted to get pregnant eventually but hadn’t quite decided concretely exactly when just yet.

For Mark, a family always seemed a distant dream. However, when you’d walked into his life, he knew he wanted it with you.

In the beginning of your relationship, you used condoms during sex. It worked at the time, but eventually, after a conversation together, you decided you’d get yourself on birth control. Mark and you were pretty serious, had a solid foundation for your relationship and knew you wanted to be together for the rest of your lives,

And part of you wanted to take that step in your relationship; no matter how minor it may be. Sex was already something so intimate between you two, but to remove the barrier of a condom and really feel each other closer? It felt natural. Felt like something you trusted each other with.

Little did you know, that decision would spark a little something in your man…

For Mark, the first time you’d had sex using birth control, he swore he fell a little further for you [if it was even possible]. To know you trusted him to cum inside, that you weren’t scared, or fearful of anything going wrong meant so much to him.

Often during sex, he’d find himself thinking how much power his seed really had. On birth control, his cum buried deep inside your cunt meant nothing more than the mutual trust you two shared, a symbol of how deep your relationship had gotten.

But if you were off birth control? If the sex was unprotected?

Mark’s cum held great power. He could put a baby in you. Your baby, that you made with the embodiment of love your bodies yield to each other. The thought alone made Mark shiver each time, shuddering with a tingle of anticipation when he’d spill his hot loads inside you each night.

“Mark?” You’d asked one night, after a steamy quickie before bed. You rested your head on his bare chest as he heaves down from his high, a heavy palm rested to the bare skin of your exposed back.

“Yeah, baby?” He returns, kissing the top of your tousled hair softly. His palms are gently soothing over your bare hips, the same hips that would someday, hopefully carry the live of your child.

And that same night, the conversation happened. You’re both ready for a baby, you both want a baby with each other.

Mark is ecstatic, can’t wait to watch your pregnant belly grow as he showers his love on you, taking care of you each step of the way. Mark is already the perfect husband, and you best bet that it would heighten tenfold when you’re pregnant.

You have sex every single day now, sometimes multiple times a day. Sex with Mark was always fantastic, always had you practically on the verge of tears to how well he’d fuck you when he needed to, how well he’d make love to you when he needed to. If anyone knows how to strike the perfect balance, it’s Mark Lee.

“You gonna give me a baby, kitten?” Mark rasps, hastily pounding into your needy cunt from above. His biceps rest on either side of you and they look massive this way, a dark, almost primal darkness in his eyes on some nights like this. You’ve been trying for about a month now, and Mark is growing impatient. Part of him fears deep inside that as always, something will go wrong; deprive him from the life he wants with you. You make sure to assure him, however. Assure him that it’ll happen for you.

“Ye-yes baby, put a baby in me Mark…” You whimper, begging underneath him, soft legs tightly wrapped around his waist to give him optimal access to your deepest parts. Mark’s cock twitches inside you, and you know he’s close. Every single time, you shake and shudder to the feel of being pounded by him, the way his creamy, succulent cum fills up inside you to the brim.

It baffles you the amount of cum the man carries, how much he spills after each fuck. You can definitely feel him fill you up and it turns you on so fucking bad as you desperately pull him close, peppering needy kisses all over his face as he makes you cum as well.

“They say the more orgasms you have, the better the chances of getting pregnant.” Mark whispers, slowly delving between your drenched thighs. He licks a long stride up your aching pussy before circling sloppy, wet circles to your clit. You’re not sure if Mark’s theory is 100% accurate. Nonetheless, you know Mark thrives off making you feel good, he wants you to enjoy the process more than him. After all, you are the one who’s going to be carrying your baby for months on end, bearing all the pain and discomforts that come your way.

It does pull at your heartstrings how much Mark cares, how desperate he is fulfilling the deed of getting you pregnant.

If on your bed, before sex, Mark puts a pillow under your hips to angle them up slightly while he pumps in and out. “Can’t have any drip out,” He smirks, pressing a wet kiss to your lips as his throbbing cock stays positioned inside you, cocooned by your warm, pulsing walls after release.

Cockwarming has become almost a daily occurrence. After he’s came inside you, Mark keeps his girthy member inside your cunt for a couple of minutes as you both come down from your highs. He’ll rest his head in the haven of your breasts, arms wrapping around you as you pull him close, kissing his head to happy dreams of this wonderful, loving man fathering your children someday.

Mark insists that you have sex a couple times a day, and you fear he’ll eventually get sick of having you if you don’t slow down a little

“I’ll never get sick of you,” He whispers into your neck, softly kissing the skin as his arms hold you so dearly tight. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I do.” You whisper, cupping his cheek. Mark is the sweetest man you know, and you best believe he’s only gotten sweeter since you’ve started trying.

Sometimes, when lounging next to each other, or when he’d come up behind you in a tender hug as you cook breakfast, Mark rests his hands on your belly; dreaming of how heartfelt it would be the day your baby would be in there,

“You’re gonna look so beautiful sweetheart, carrying our baby.” His deep baritone would soothe in your ears as he slams into you, your breasts bouncing to his pace as his hips snap into you hard, senselessly. His balls slam your core so hard each time, and the sounds of skin slapping skin fill the house very often nowadays. “Gonna show you off to the entire world,” He moans, cupping your breasts & kneading them with a firm force, yet cautious not to hurt you, as his mind drifts to the thought of how full they’d look, swollen holding milk

Mark and you have possibly tried every sex position there is at this point. Doggy style? Mark fucks into like a rabbit from behind, cock grinding your cervix to the deepest parts before slipping out entirely, only to plummet back in

Your legs on his shoulders as he fucks into you relentlessly? It’s one of his “trying to conceive” favourites, allows his sperm to take advantage of gravity

Face to face lying beside each other? Mark practically melts each time you do this one. The entry of his cock is so deep this way as you hold each other’s gazes, your leg draped over his waist as his arms pull you closer, rosy skin flushed together with a thin layer of sweat.

From behind as you lay on your stomach? Mark’s eyes roll to the back of his head in this one. He enters you from behind, pounding in as he grinds your g-spot repeatedly, almost always giving you two orgasms before he cums deep, deep inside.

Did I mention how loud Mark is when he cums

He moans, throaty groans fleeing his lips as he practically growls in your ear. The way you clench around him is too much, your pussy is too tight; too warm and he’s far too in love with your body (and all of you, ofc). Far too drunk on thoughts of pounding you pregnant for him.

Sometimes Mark can get so dirty while fucking you.

It surprises you sometimes that your sweet, loving, wholesome husband can say such sinful things

“Gonna make a baby come out of that tight little pussy.” He drips, biting small love marks into your skin as he thrusts, marking your body as his breeding ground.

I mean he is a literal assassin so you do get that he can be a bit brutal sometimes

He tracks your periods and the days you’re most fertile (not that it matters too much since he fucks you into oblivion each day haha) but on days where you’ve ovulating, he makes sure to go deeper, harder, and get in multiple rounds for optimal chances of conceiving.

Mark cumming inside is so special now. You can’t help but shiver each time you feel him explode deep within you, knowing that that load might be the one to do the trick.

You’re an advocating member of the “Make Mark a daddy 2024” campaign.

And when your period is late…you tell Mark with beaming eyes and swear you’d seen a glistening glow in that chocolate gaze, unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

You buy multiple tests together, Mark's hand holding yours the entire time. The thought that your baby might be growing inside you, right now, this second as you stand at the checkout counter has his smiling like a goofy idiot.

Your goofy idiot, of course :)

You take the tests together in the master bathroom of your bedroom. Mark is on edge and you have to hold his hand to reassure him, explaining to him that if its only a false alarm, you’ll keep trying because you want this with him. You need this with him.

You want a family and it’s never going to change.

But when all the tests come back positive, Mark is on the brink of tears.

You both are, holding each other tighter than ever as you both cry into each other’s necks, kneeling in a bundle of cuddles on the bathroom floor. Mark kisses each inch of your face, peppers delicate kisses to your tousled hair, offering squeezes to your hand when you let out a soft sniffle at the sheer happiness.

This is a moment that will forever be engrained in your minds.

It was finally happening; you made a baby.

You’ve never seen Mark this happy before, feeling as if everything in his life has finally fallen into place. This is what all the pain, all the hurt, all the sin that lingers in the shadows of his past had been leading up to. A family with you, free of evil, free of any grim that lingers.

A life where the only Mark Lee that the world knows, is the Mark who loves and is loved by his wife, and the Mark who is a father.

The most loving, caring, amazing father he could ever be.

#౨ৎㅤ violet writes #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark lee #mark x reader #mark smut #mark fluff #husband!mark #౨ৎㅤ mark

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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months

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yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario

warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.

There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another yandere fic, introducing Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me write this and finding the perfect likeness for my character, especially when this idea came to me all of a sudden on a Sunday night when I should be sleeping instead of staying up an ungodly hour.

As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this scenario will be taken down. I'm not sure if this will be a series. At the moment, this is just a scenario.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the cutthroat world of publishing.

PART TWO

Yandere!Literary Agent is a man who prides himself on being very good at his job. He represented one of the best publishing houses in the country. Anything less than what he expected from his clients was unacceptable.

If the manuscript arrived in his inbox exactly two minutes past the promised deadline, he would not look at it. If his client is acting like a stupid moron at a function or royally fucking up their reputation by posting something inappropriate on their social media account, he is not cleaning up their mess. He is not their babysitter. They are full-grown adults. And if one of them is not able to produce another book that will actually sell past the number of copies slated to be printed, he will let them go. Call him cruel if you want. Yandere!Literary Agent is simply being pragmatic. He wasn’t cheap. He only wants the best of the best.

So imagine Yandere!Literary Agent’s surprise when a particularly difficult client sent him a completed manuscript. He planned on writing her an email that after much deliberation, it was time for her to find another agent to represent her. The client, Abigail Crowley, had written an adult dark academia trilogy and a feminist retelling of the myth of Theseus, told from the perspective of his lover Adriane. The manuscripts following the conclusion of her last book, however, were complete shit. Her royalties were nearly gone, having squandered them on a penthouse in a high-end neighborhood, the latest clothes, and a wine fridge. You heard him. A fucking wine fridge when she could have replaced that shoddy laptop of hers with something better so she could keep writing books and not have it crap out on her.

Half-amused and half-annoyed at this pathetic attempt to keep her contract with the publishing company from being null and void, Yandere!Literary Agent clicked on the attachment and read it. One page became four, then fifty. He had to force himself to stop when it was lunchtime and he was already at the mid-way point.

This story, it was…good. No, it was more than good. It was absolutely fantastic. And Yandere!Literary Agent did not compliment his clients’ works very often, which meant he believed at this very moment, this manuscript will most definitely become Abigail’s comeback to the literary industry. Book sales would go through the roof, A Netflix deal was also possible. But the first hurdle he had to overcome was pitching the manuscript, and making sure the query letter was at least consistent with the story that Abigail was trying to sell to him.

And he’ll make it happen. He is very good at his job, after all.

Once he had successfully pitched it with a bit of extra charm, he contacted Abigail. She was over the moon, promising to make any necessary edits to the manuscript and it will be sent to him on time. From there, time fast forwarded. ARC books were sent out, Abigail selected the cover designs for the regular and special editions, and a tentative book tour was scheduled. Seven cities, and one international trip, maybe another in the future. Sales for this book were projected to exceed expectations. Yandere!Literary Agent was very confident things would go smoothly from here. At least he had thought so.

A month before the book was to be published, his secretary knocked on his door and said he had a visitor. They insisted on seeing him. Yandere!Literary Agent raised his brow, rising from his desk and stepping out into the hall and saw you.

In the beginning, he will begrudgingly confess that his first impression of you was someone who is painfully average and out of place. A backpack slung over your shoulder, dressed in navy blue medical scrubs and looking absolutely haggard. Your eyes, though, shined with anxiety and determination. You inclined your head.

“I apologize for the sudden intrusion, I know you’re busy, but I have some concerns about the book that’s going to be released soon by Abigail Crowley.”

Yandere! Literary Agent’s gaze sharpened.. “And what, pray tell, are your complaints?” He crossed his arms. “Are you one of the people who had signed up to be ARC reader and didn’t get their copy?”

You raised an eyebrow. “...No?”

“Then why -”

“Because it is my novel that is being published. Without my consent.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Look, I know it is hard to believe, I get it.” You then swung your backpack around to your front, unzipping the larger compartment. You pulled out a large notebook, some papers, and a flash drive. You held them out to him. “But I think what I have here might convince you to allow me ten minutes, if not five, to hear me out. That’s all I’m asking. This isn’t about money, this isn’t about suing your company. I just want my story back. I’ve already tried talking to Abigail about it, and she isn’t picking up my calls. Please.” You said. “Three minutes.”

His schedule was clear until the two o’clock meeting with another client on the other side of town. That was about an hour and half from now, as he had just come back from lunch. He supposed he could give you three minutes. Rolling his eyes, Yandere!Literary Editor swiveled on his heel.

“Let’s see what you have. Melissa, please hold my calls until I’m done.” His diligent secretary nodded and went back to her desk. You followed him like a lost little duckling back to his office. Once the door was closed, you handed him everything.

Yandere!Literary Editor went over the materials carefully, flipping through the pages of the notebook. The outlines and character designs were here, all written in excruciating detail and in such tiny print. He asked you random questions, going off of his memory from the manuscript and these notes. You answered him without hesitation.

“Yes, that’s correct. What? No, absolutely not. I would never have those characters be romantically paired up! Their relationship is too toxic, and wouldn’t set a good example to the target audience. I’m sorry, what? No, that isn’t her name! It’s Cristabel, not Anastasia! She’s supposed to be assisting the Night Emperor with collecting intelligence via the gossip of salons under her alias, not swooning over his brother when he’s already happily married to his wife! Good God, no. That scene should not even be there! That’s filler content and makes the character growth of the protagonist seem like the pay-off wasn’t worth it, or that he didn’t learn anything at all since the beginning of the book!”

Yandere!Literary Agent grounded the molars of his back teeth, inhaling slow, deep breaths through his nostrils. Keeping his emotions in check is one of the reasons why he has survived in the publishing industry for this long, and he’s such a successful man.

But hearing you speak about the characters, perfectly recalling the manuscript’s themes and looking back at the notebook in his hand, seeing the colorful sticky notes with edits and improvised scenes written on them…he couldn’t deny it any further. You were the real author of the book he’s representing, and Abigail Crowley played him like a goddamned fiddle.

If this wasn’t enough damning evidence of his client’s plagiarism, you had shown him an original illustration of the world you had created. It was done by an artist you had commissioned on Etsy, with proof of purchase for their services and a timestamp. Three years ago. That was when Abigail’s last best-selling book hit the shelves, and when her creative well began to dry out.

You must have caught on to his irritation, because you told him that you weren’t here to intentionally stir up any trouble. A coworker had told you about Abigail’s newest book coming out, and the premise was exactly yours, at least what was advertised in the BookTok and Youtube trailers online. You’ve been searching high and low for your manuscript, and the only other person who has been in your apartment and knew about your creative endeavors has been Abigail. She wasn’t really your friend, per say. You took some of the same creative writing courses. You eventually found another career to pursue, and you kept writing as a hobby. She went on to become a professional author and never missed an opportunity to show off her success whenever she invited you out for drinks at an upscale bar or went to fancy dinners.

Why would Abigail steal the book you’ve been working on for three years when you work a full-time day job, you had no idea. She’s living the dream that she’s always wanted, defying her mother’s wishes to get a normal job because writing is everything to her, and she would never give up on it. But if you were to be hypothetical, it might be another attempt to somehow get one up on her self-proclaimed rival, Cindy Chen, who is an even bigger success than her.

You then rubbed your eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” You murmured, standing up from your seat. “Keep the notebook, the maps, whatever you want. If you could return them to me when you’re done, that’s all I ask. And an apology from Abigail, if you’re able to get one out of her. Like I said, this isn’t about money, royalties, or fame. I just want my story back.”

Yandere!Literary Agent immediately stood up, his eyes slightly widened in fear. “Wait, please, just a moment! I know you’re tired, you want to go home…but I need to set things right. If I had known that this manuscript, your story, had been stolen, I would have never spearheaded its publication.” And he wouldn’t have. Not only would it affect his reputation, but the company’s too. Stocks would plummet, and there would be a feeding frenzy on social media with #abigailcrowley, #plagiarism, #sailboatpublishinghouse.

When you looked at him, his heart lurched uncomfortably at seeing your lips fall into a crestfallen expression. You looked so tired, so done with everything, and oh god you looked like you were about to cry shit. Walking around his desk, Yandere!Literary Agent eased you to sit back down and quickly prepared an espresso, possessing a machine to make it in his office so he did not have to walk down five flights to the break room.

You thanked him for the drink and took a sip, wrinkling your nose slightly, no doubt surprised at the taste. You must not be a regular espresso drinker, or prefer how you made it. Either way, he was grateful that you did not bolt out of the office. Picking up his office phone, he dialed Melissa’s number.

“Call all of the heads, including the marketing and social media departments. This is an emergency meeting. Now!” Bless Melissa, she did not ask him questions and said she would get on it immediately, hanging up on him. The next person he called was Abigail fucking Crowley. He sweet-talked her into coming to the office, apologizing for interrupting her ‘creativity time’ and promised it won’t take long. She swore to be there in a half an hour, so long as traffic didn’t back up. Yandere!Literary Agent played the understanding card and hung up, his smile being replaced with a smirk. Hook, line, and sinker. He scoffed. He then turned to you.

“Everything will be resolved soon.” He promised.

“Sir -” You began.

“Yulian, please.”

“Mister Yulian, I understand that you want to make things right, but…can you really get Abigail to talk? She blocked my calls, and the book is hitting the shelves in a month, maybe less than that? How are you going to recover the money that has gone into getting it published, the fees for the printing companies, and the marketing? Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m not too familiar with how publishing works these days.”

You weren’t wrong, at least in the aspect that the company has put a significant amount of money into the publication of the stolen manuscript, your work, he added mentally. It was too late to stop the printing, and the final draft would need a significant amount of changes. Unless…

“Abigail is a plagiarist, and you are the rightful creator. The way I see it, we can salvage the financial loss by putting your name on the cover, and fixing the glaring omissions as well as other scenes you claim shouldn’t even be there.” He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Of course, we would need to have a press conference and explain why we are changing authors, and what she has done. Considering the timetable and coordinating with the printing companies, it will be cutting it close.”

You stared at him silently for a long moment before placing the espresso cup back onto the tiny saucer with a soft clink, releasing a heavy sigh. “If I agree to do this, to help with the edits, probably fuck up my sleeping pattern and might potentially be fired from my job unless I can use some of my PTO, what will I get in return?”

He smiled. “Abigail will be the one to pay for publishing and marketing fees. I can extend the deadline for the revisions by a week. And you will be paid for your time, of course. There will be no need to come here to drop off revisions either. All correspondence will be through email. As an agent, I am qualified to be your representative during press conferences, so you will not have to be present. All I would ask of you is to turn in the final manuscript on time and not say anything on social media until our legal team is fully prepared.”

“No need to worry about Twitter or Facebook. Haven’t logged on to my account in years.” You raised the espresso cup to your lips. “Too much politics.” You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled frown stretching across your face. “Any chance I could get all of this in writing? I might need to get a lawyer if Abigail tries to take it to court and sue me for defamation.”

Yandere!Literary Agent nodded. He opened up a blank document and immediately typed up the contract, including everything that you have discussed and a few other variables. Once he finished, he printed it out, handing it to you. You read through the contents carefully before handing it back to him.

“It looks good - it’s all here and I’m agreeable to the terms.” You said.

Humming under his breath, Yandere! Literary Agent signed the bottom. You signed your name next to his, with today’s date and the time.

He ignored the tiny tingle that crawled up his spine when your fingertips brushed against his as you gave him back the pen. You agreed to stay until the matter with Abigail was over, and he would email you the manuscript so you could go through everything when you get home.

As it turned out, you did not have to wait much longer for the best-selling author to make her entrance at Board Room 3. Exchanging numbers with Yandere! Literary Agent you would wait in the adjacent room until he sent you a text to make your entrance. Melissa escorted you to said room when he received a message from Abigail that she would be here in ten minutes.

It’s time. That was the message he sent you. When you opened the door, revealing yourself to the staff and the flustered Abigail…she snapped.

She rambled how she needed a book, just one more successful book, and she would be set for life. She wouldn’t lose her penthouse, she would still be considered a worthy rival to Cindy Chen, and above all else, she could still write as she had always wanted to do since she was a teenager. You already had a normal job, you had a steady income, you weren’t even a writer. Being a hobbyist writer did not count. Yes, she took your manuscript, but it wasn’t a big deal! You could just write another book when you had time between shifts at the hospital, right?

The look you gave her…it was resignation. Hopelessness. Disappointment.

“Abbie…it wasn’t just a story I wrote. You should know that. Writing is so much more than that. I’ve tried to be nice, to talk to you but you wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry it’s come to this, I really am.” You said. That was the last thing you said before you were escorted outside of the door. Seeing your part in this is over, Yandere! Literary Agent took control of the room.

“Whether it is a hobby or professional writing, it doesn’t change the fact that you stole someone’s work and tried to pass it off as your own.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You are a thief, nothing more and nothing less.” Then the lawyers approached Abigail, presenting her with the fees she will need to pay. If there was an issue, going to court would not be an issue as he had all of the evidence needed to ruin the once best-selling writer Abigail Crowley.

Her reaction was….amusing.

After security had escorted the screaming woman off of the premises, Yandere!Literary Agent went to search for you, thinking you had gone back to his office to wait for him. You weren’t there. Melissa said you did stop by her desk, only to leave a message on a sticky note that you needed to go home but promised to get the revisions done as fast as you could, and thanks for the espresso it was really good.

Yandere!Literary Agent smiled softly at the hastily written chicken scratch, pocketing it in his trousers before going back inside his office. You weren’t like any of his other clients. And he would like to get to know a bit more. Who knows? Perhaps….he could persuade you to sign a contract with him, be your agent. You shouldn’t hide your talents from the world. There were people who would love to read your stories, and he had no doubt that the company would benefit from it too.

But there was no need to rush. There was a month until the book was to be released. That was more than enough time for him to work his magic. He is good at his job, after all.

Taglist

@impeakcharacterdesign

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@majestichugs

@abelheilonwife

@suiana

@lxdymoon0357

@dxmoness

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@imperfectbloodmoon

@lovely-nightmares

@yandere-dark-cupid

@beardedblizzardexpert

@d10nsaint

@likesugarandcyanide

@justcressida

@mooly-artistic

@cassanderasblog

@swallowtailcherry

@amidst-the-tempest

@usernames-are-so-hard-to-create

@navierkalani

@yanderefangirl

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x you #fem!reader #yandere! literary agent #yandere fanfiction #yandere manhwa x reader #ns.fw #tw obsessive love #tw obsessive behavior

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lyssaluvs · 3 months

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Just Play the Part

(Luke Castellan x Fem!Dionysus!Reader)

Summary: A makeover from Silena and the Aphrodite girls gives you the confidence boost you need.

A/N: this took me so bloody long it's borderline embarrassing. also luke is so out of character it almost makes me sick but whatever. god this is so short, i'm so sorry.

Warnings: Use of Y/n, reader is described to have curly hair but that's about it.

Children of Dionysus are rare, daughters even more so. As a matter of fact, you were the only one. To your knowledge… Before you came to Camp Half-Blood, you were an only child, and when you arrived, you suddenly had a much larger family that you did before. A father, brothers, it was fantastic, it felt amazing to have the family you had always dreamed of. However, with a somewhat absent mother, apparently no sisters, and not a whole lot of friends, let alone female ones, you had had little to no feminine influence in your life. This resulted in you becoming a bit of a tom-boy. It’s not that you didn’t want to embrace your femininity, you just didn’t know how.

“Oh goodness, those curls are a mess.”

“That outfit certainly isn’t doing her any favours.”

You heard the whispers as you walked past the small group of Aphrodite girls. As a child of Dionysus, you had quite a talent for theatrics, as well as being prone to sarcastic remarks, so you just couldn’t help but snap back.

“Can I help you?” You asked the group of girls, hands on your hips with your brows furrowed.

“Actually, we were wondering if we could help you…”

---

You now found yourself sat in a surprisingly comfortable barber-style chair in the bathroom of the Aphrodite cabin.

“Sorry I got defensive; I’m not really used to talking to girls much.” You apologise to Silena once again.

“Stop apologising! We love having a new girl to give makeovers to. And who knows, maybe this will give you the confidence boost you need to finally talk to Luke, since he’s obviously too shy to talk to you first.”

You cast your gaze downward as a warmth spread across your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, you’re not that obvious. I just have a knack for these kinds of things, comes with being an Aphrodite kid. Luke, however, is about as subtle a sledgehammer. Please don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” She paused combing your hair to look you in the eye.

You just shrugged.

“The lingering touches when he corrects your stances, yearning stares…” She awaited your reaction and when she was met with a befuddled expression, she continued.

“Oh my god, you’re oblivious. Here’s what you’re going to do. Once we’re done here, you’re going to walk right up to him, and ask him out. There’s no way he’ll say no, so don’t try that excuse. And I’ve seen you on stage, you can certainly play an outgoing character, so if you’re going to use the shy excuse, I’ll tell you to just pretend you’re on stage.”

---

It had been almost two hours and your makeover was finally over. Your curls were healthier than ever, your nails were painted, light makeup had been applied, and you had never felt more beautiful. You looked at your outfit in the mirror, taking note of the way the new flare jeans were much more flattering than your previous daggy cargos, and your camp tee now a size smaller and no longer drowning you.

“You’re lucky orange suits you, now go get your man!” Silena pushed you out the door, giving your butt a playful smack on the way out.

---

Feeling more confident than ever you approached Luke while he was practicing his swordsmanship in front of the setting sun, alone, as he usually was at this time of day.

“Luke”

The brunette boy turned around so swiftly he almost lost his footing. He looked you up and down and swallowed heavily.

“Y/n, you look ama- “

“Do you want to go out with me?” The words shot out of your mouth before you could stop them. Regardless of Silena’s reassurance, if he did end up rejecting you, you wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible.

His jaw dropped and he looked as though he wanted to say something, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate. The two of you stood in silence for a few moments as you waited for an answer.

“It’s fine if you don’t. I’ll just go.” You began to turn around.

“YES! Sorry, yes, I want to go out with you. Please. I really want to go out with you.”

It seemed his voice had finally caught up with his mind.

Hmm… He’s cute when he rambles…

@elz-zalarrr this one's for you!

credit to @cafekitsune for the divider!

#percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #pjo tv show

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vetteltea · 5 months

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Max Verstappen and Secret Santa [no warnings]

Day 2 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

“Is this my one?” Your voice carries through the small barrage of producers and videographers, a camera transfixed onto your face as you lift the package, attempting to figure out what content was inside of the box.

You were exhausted; despite wrapping up the championship a month ago, simply focusing on obtaining more and more points for Red Bull Racing’s reputation, the tracks had been tough and jet lag increasingly aggravating. Abu Dhabi was the end of the road, one step closer to falling back home into your own bed. However, you could not hide the elation which fell onto your face as the Formula One media team had pulled you aside, letting you know it was time to film the reveal.

You had been so excited to purchase your present this year; Yuki was always a fantastic pick, having selected him a set of chef knives and a hat, printed with a photo of himself and Pierre. Now, as the deep blue box was handed into your grasp, you couldn’t help but feel your heart race, gently shaking the box, determined to figure out the content.

“It sounds…heavy?” You try to give the best description possible to the woman standing behind the camera, urging you to unwrap the present in your hands. The temptation overrides, slipping your fingers through the silky bow and beginning to unwrap the formal packaging. “Whoever wrapped this…” you trail off. “Got it wrapped professionally. I don’t think any of us could wrap a present this good.”

The paper eventually falls away, the camera adjusting as you place down the box upon the table, lifting the lid. Immediately, your eyes furrow together, and then soften in confusion, grasping around the item which you had been gifted.

There, laid upon a pile of soft purple tissue paper, rested a Polaroid camera. It was small, coloured an off-white and was almost identical to the previous one you had owned.

“What did you get?” The woman behind the camera had prompted, urging to get the content required for the Secret Santa video. Your trance upon the item is snapped away, blinking rapidly and looking up the lens trained on your reaction.

“It’s a Polaroid camera and a bunch of film!” You lift the camera, showing it to the team, the smile on your face ever-present. “I bring a Polaroid to every race and take a photo but…someone broke it.” Your mind flickers back to your teammate, how he had insisted he could take a photo for Zandervoot; it was his home race after all. He had been nothing but apologetic, though that wouldn’t bring back your camera.

“Who do you think got it for you? It must be someone who knows you well?” The woman prompts you to continue whilst your fingers trace over the device, elated that somebody must have understood the importance and value held to the memories you capture.

“I mean…” you trail off. “A lot of us are close. It has to be someone who knows I do it…Daniel, maybe?” You think about the smiley Australian; how the two of you had bonded over your love of taking photos during global travels. The synchronized shake of the team signified you must have been wrong. It wasn’t Daniel. “Maybe Pierre?” He was almost always insistent on being in your photos, after all.

“Think closer to home.” You misunderstand the woman for a moment, thinking of your neighbor in the city of Monte Carlo.

“Valtteri?” Though, you’re almost certain he wouldn’t have got you this. You’re so certain it’s time to give up, lifting the camera out of its box, your attention being drawn immediately to the small Polaroid card being left underneath the device.

There was a photo, a photo of a man holding up a white piece of card, his scrawling hand-writing undeniably recognisable. In lettering, he had spelt out one word, ‘date?’

There’s two more underneath, one with the driver holding a thumbs up, the other a thumbs down. You can’t help the grin returning to your face as you look up from the box, seeing his figure sitting a mere meter away from you, eyes trained on you, a smile on his face at the realization you had finally clocked.

“Max.” You finally solve the problem, subtly slipping one of the Polaroids into your hand as the team take a few establishing shots, thanking you for being part of their marketing and turning their attention to your teammate, adamant on filming his segment next.

Before they can, you subtly slide past his table, tracing his knuckles and resting the Polaroid in his lap, moving away before he can realize what has happened. Instead, he focused on the photograph in his hand, seeing his own figure staring back with a thumbs up.

The last thing he sees is you turning the corner, still clad in Red Bull Uniform, a subtle wink thrown in his direction as you leave him to unwrap his own present, undeniably thinking of unwrapping something better later.

#Max Verstappen #MV1 #MV33 #Max Verstappen x Reader #Max Verstappen Imagine #Max Verstappen One Shot #Max Verstappen x You #Reader Insert #F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Max Verstappen Blurb #Max Verstappen x Y/N

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physalian · 1 month

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You don’t have to pay for that fancy worldbuilding program

As mentioned in this post about writing with executive dysfunction, if one of your reasons to keep procrastinating on starting your book is not being able to afford something like World Anvil or Campfire, I’m here to tell you those programs are a luxury, not a necessity: Enter Google Suite (not sponsored but gosh I wish).

MS Office offers more processing power and more fine-tuning, but Office is expensive and only autosaves to OneDrive, and I have a perfectly healthy grudge against OneDrive for failing to sync and losing 19k words of a WIP that I never got back.

Google’s sync has never failed me, and the Google apps (at least for iPhone) aren’t nearly as buggy and clunky as Microsoft’s. So today I’m outlining the system I used for my upcoming fantasy novel with all the helpful pictures and diagrams. Maybe this won’t work for you, maybe you have something else, and that’s okay! I refuse to pay for what I can get legally for free and sometimes Google’s simplicity is to its benefit.

The biggest downside is that you have to manually input and update your data, but as someone who loves organizing and made all these willingly and for fun, I don’t mind.

So. Let’s start with Google Sheets.

The Character Cheat Sheet:

I organized it this way for several reasons:

I can easily see which characters belong to which factions and how many I have named and have to keep up with for each faction

All names are in alphabetical order so when I have to come up with a new name, I can look at my list and pick a letter or a string of sounds I haven’t used as often (and then ignore it and start 8 names with A).

The strikethrough feature lets me keep track of which characters I kill off (yes, I changed it, so this remains spoiler-free)

It’s an easy place to go instead of scrolling up and down an entire manuscript for names I’ve forgotten, with every named character, however minor their role, all in one spot

Also on this page are spare names I’ll see randomly in other media (commercials, movie end credits, etc) and can add easily from my phone before I forget

Also on this page are my summary, my elevator pitch, and important character beats I could otherwise easily mess up, it helps stay consistent

*I also have on here not pictured an age timeline for all my vampires so I keep track of who’s older than who and how well I’ve staggered their ages relative to important events, but it’s made in Photoshop and too much of a pain to censor and add here

On other tabs, I keep track of location names, deities, made-up vocabulary and definitions, and my chapter word count.

The Word Count Guide:

*3/30 Edit to update this chart to its full glory. Column 3 is a cumulative count. Most of what I write breaks 100k and it's fun watching the word count rise until it boils over.

This is the most frustrating to update manually, especially if you don’t have separate docs for each chapter, but it really helps me stay consistent with chapter lengths and the formula for calculating the average and rising totals is super basic.

Not that all your chapters have to be uniform, but if you care about that, this little chart is a fantastic visualizer.

If you have multiple narrators, and this book does, you can also keep track of how many POVs each narrator has, and how spread out they are. I didn’t do that for this book since it’s not an ensemble team and matters less, but I did for my sci-fi WIP, pictured below.

As I was writing that one, I had “scripted” the chapters before going back and writing out all the glorious narrative, and updated the symbols from “scripted” to “finished” accordingly.

I also have a pie chart that I had to make manually on a convoluted iPhone app to color coordinate specifically the way I wanted to easily tell who narrates the most out of the cast, and who needs more representation.

—

Google Docs

Can’t show you much here unfortunately but I’d like to take an aside to talk about my “scene bits” docs.

It’s what it says on the tin, an entire doc all labeled with different heading styles with blurbs for each scene I want to include at some point in the book so I can hop around easily. Whether they make it into the manuscript or not, all practice is good practice and I like to keep old ideas because they might be useful in unsuspecting ways later.

Separate from that, I keep most of my deleted scenes and scene chunks for, again, possible use later in a “deleted scenes” doc, all labeled accordingly.

When I designed my alien language for the sci-fi series, I created a Word doc dictionary and my own "translation" matrix, for easy look-up or word generation whenever I needed it (do y'all want a breakdown for creating foreign languages? It's so fun).

Normally, as with my sci-fi series, I have an entire doc filled with character sheets and important details, I just… didn’t do that for this book. But the point is—you can still make those for free on any word processing software, you don’t need fancy gadgets.

—

I hope this helps anyone struggling! It doesn’t have to be fancy. It doesn’t have to be expensive. Everything I made here, minus the aforementioned timeline and pie chart, was done with basic excel skills and the paint bucket tool. I imagine this can be applicable to games, comics, what have you, it knows no bounds!

Now you have one less excuse to sit down and start writing.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #organizing your book #outlining #shut up and write the book #google sheets #google docs

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edenesth · 2 months

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The Way to His Heart [16]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 15 | Fic Masterlist | Part 17

What's the meaning of this, Your Highness?

As you entered the grand hall, discomfort painted across your features, Jongho and Eunsook trailed closely behind, exchanging concerned glances. The announcement made by the palace staff had only made the prince's intentions abundantly clear to them.

The head maid, not wanting you to feel alone, stepped up beside you to check on you, "Are you feeling alright, mistress?" She inquired. Jongho nodded in agreement from your other side, suggesting, "Yes, perhaps we can leave early if you are not feeling well."

"Miss Jang! Are you not feeling well, my lady?" Yeosang's deep voice interrupted, your eyes widening at his appearance. As you began to perform the formal bow, he quickly halted you by gently grasping your arms, "No need to be so formal with me," He said softly, "If you're feeling unwell, you can come and rest in my chambers."

Jongho and Eunsook froze at the fourth prince's suggestion, dread washing over them. They could only hope you would decline the invitation, but they knew it wasn't their place to intervene. The idea was simply inappropriate; as a married woman, retiring to another man's private chambers was scandalous. If news of this spread, it would undoubtedly tarnish your reputation and bring dishonour to the general's name.

To their relief, you didn't hesitate to shake your head, "Oh dear, no, Your Highness. Thank you for the offer, but I was simply taken aback by the grandeur of everything. It's my first time attending such a prestigious event, and perhaps I just need a moment to take it all in."

That wasn't entirely untrue, as you finally seized the opportunity to marvel at your surroundings. While your husband's estate was luxurious, it paled in comparison to the opulence of the royal palace. Palace servants bustled about, ensuring everything was flawless. However, you couldn't help but notice the absence of banquet guests, which surprised and unsettled you.

Yeosang fought hard to conceal any disappointment, maintaining a composed smile at your response, "Ah, yes, indeed. How inconsiderate of me not to offer you a tour of the palace first, especially after the delightful tour you provided me at General Park's estate. I believe it's only right for me to return the favour now."

You blinked, "B-but the banquet—"

The prince grinned, cutting you off, "As you can see, you've arrived quite early, my lady. The other guests are not here yet, so I might as well keep you entertained until the event officially begins."

The assistant and head maid were deeply uneasy about the situation unfolding before them as they watched you, left with not much of a choice, agreed unsurely to the so-called tour. It was evident to them that this must be part of Yeosang's scheme. Jongho had ensured your departure from the estate was precisely timed; you couldn't have arrived too early.

"Fantastic! Now, if you'll just come with me," His Highness beckoned as the three of you began to follow him. Just as you started to move, he turned around smugly with an additional suggestion, "Oh, actually, your staff can stay behind if they'd like. That way, we can converse more freely, just the two of us, as we did back at the general's estate. What do you say, Miss Jang?"

It took everything in Eunsook to resist the urge to firmly remind the prince that you already belonged to another.

Similarly agitated by Yeosang's persistence, Jongho silently prayed that Seonghwa had received his letter. Despite being well aware of the impropriety of distracting the general during wartime, after much consideration and discussion with the other guys, they concluded that your husband deserved to be informed of the situation.

Fortunately, you offered a reassuring smile to your two chaperones before turning to address the fourth prince, "I'm sure that would not be necessary, Your Highness. I prefer having them close just in case I require any assistance."

As they witnessed your resolute refusal of the offer, Jongho and Eunsook felt a surge of pride. Truthfully, they had been anxious since Hongjoong had confided in them about the doubts you were harbouring regarding Seonghwa. But they dared not bring it up, wary of your potential reaction. Though a part of them had worried you might be swayed by Yeosang's charms, your firm stance reassured them of your unwavering loyalty to the general.

However, they couldn't shake off the sly glint still evident in the prince's eyes. He seemed oddly pleased despite your rejection to spend time alone with him. That troubled them deeply, and the two exchanged worried glances, silently contemplating what else he could possibly have in store.

With a light chuckle, His Highness replied, "Very well then, I suppose they could come along. This way, my lady. I know a few places you'll find intriguing."

Unlike your husband's staff, you were entirely unaware of Yeosang's intentions. Even then, there was just an inexplicably ominous aura to his demeanour that unsettled you, further intensifying your longing for Seonghwa. The banquet had barely even begun, but you already felt mentally exhausted, wanting nothing more than to rely on the general as you always had.

I miss you, Park Seonghwa.

Before you could dwell on thoughts of your beloved and his well-being, you suddenly recognised the surroundings. The enchanting cherry blossom garden, where you had first met the prince, spread out before you, "Do you remember this place, my lady?" He asked, his tone soft with nostalgia, "It has become my favourite spot in all of the palace since meeting you."

"How could I ever forget, Your Highness?" You replied, momentarily causing Jongho and Eunsook's hearts to sink until you continued with a genuinely innocent smile, "This garden is the only place I've had the pleasure of visiting so far."

Although your response should have let him down, Yeosang found his heart melting at your sincerity. It only served to deepen his admiration for you, knowing that you weren't one to offer insincere compliments or put on a fake smile just because of his status. You were simply yourself, and he found that utterly captivating.

As the four of you neared one of the garden's tallest and most exquisite cherry blossom trees, you found yourself gazing upward in awe at the falling petals, taking in the breathtaking sight. The beauty of the place was undeniable, and you couldn't help but imagine spending hours strolling around and admiring the flowers if this were your home.

His Highness watched you beneath the gently falling pink blossoms, feeling his heart swell with warmth. The scene before him was like a painting, and he longed to preserve it in his memory forever. Just standing there with you, experiencing this moment, filled him with an overwhelming desire to give you everything he had. It was a new and unfamiliar feeling for him, this deep sense of affection for another person. For the first time, he found himself completely enamoured by someone's presence.

"It truly is a sight to behold, isn't it?" You nodded wordlessly in response to the prince's question, reaching out to catch some of the delicate flowers before he continued, "You know, perhaps it's not too late to change your favourite flower from lotus to cherry blossoms."

Though his words seemed simple and harmless, they carried a subtle yet unmistakable implication. This was apparent to the assistant, the head maid, and, for once, to you as well. Deep in thought, you pondered the best way to respond to his suggestion. Somehow, you sensed a deeper meaning in his words from the determined look in his eyes that were almost silently urging you to choose him.

With a soft smile, you caught a falling flower, "Thank you, Your Highness. Cherry blossoms are indeed beautiful, but I still prefer lotus flowers. You see, cherry blossoms may be stunning when they bloom, but they also fall quite fast. To me, the lotus represents endurance and resilience, as it thrives in adverse conditions and blooms beautifully despite its surroundings."

This time, you hoped the prince understood the subtle implication behind your words. The short lifespan of cherry blossoms symbolised fleeting happiness, whereas the lotus embodied strength and perseverance through difficulties—a sentiment you hoped would mirror the love shared between you and Seonghwa.

Jongho and Eunsook exchanged a subtle glance, their smiles growing wider as they registered the meaning of your response.

Meanwhile, Yeosang's composure faltered ever so slightly at your polite rejection. The light in his eyes dimmed momentarily, but he quickly regained his composure, masking any hint of disappointment, "Understood, my lady," He replied with a gracious nod, "You do make a good point. Since we've already been here before, let us move on to the next location then."

As he guided you through various parts of the palace, you found yourself fascinated by the history and beauty of each location. The royal library, with its towering shelves of ancient texts, stirred a sense of awe in you as the prince shared stories of his lessons there. The astronomy tower offered a breathtaking view, and you marvelled at the cityscape from above.

In the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly prepared dishes filled the air, His Highness confessed with a mischievous grin that he often snuck in for a late-night snack. You couldn't help but chuckle at his antics, finding his playful side endearing.

However, as Yeosang led you past the main hall where morning assemblies with His Majesty were held, Jongho's earlier worries resurfaced. Despite the seemingly innocent nature of the tour, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at him. Each step further into the heart of the palace felt like a step into unknown territory, and he feared what might happen next.

The assistant's breath caught in his throat as he realised the path the fourth prince was leading you down, the daunting sight of the palace torture chambers coming into view.

No, not this place. Anywhere but here.

In the warzone on the other side of the nation, General Officer Song grappled with his own internal conflicts as he tightly gripped the letters from Jongho and Prince Yeosang. He felt a strong reluctance to deliver them to his superior.

The truth was that General Park had sustained injuries in his recent and one of the more challenging battles. While the situation had calmed down and most of the enemy troops were either strewn lifelessly across the battlefield or had retreated to their camps, Seonghwa's injury had been kept secret to prevent causing panic within their army, following the general's direct orders.

Mingi stood in the makeshift office tent, the letters weighing heavily in his hands. His mind raced with thoughts, torn between his duty as a military officer and his concern for General Park's well-being.

On one hand, keeping the letters hidden seemed like the logical course of action. They were in the midst of a war, and any distraction for their most crucial member could be detrimental to their efforts. Having Seonghwa away from camp for personal matters could compromise their military strategy and the safety of their troops.

Yet, on the other hand, he couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility towards the general and his relationship with Lady Park. If he withheld this crucial information and something were to happen between you and the prince, he would bear the blame. The thought of Seonghwa's potential anguish at being kept in the dark about his wife's situation weighed heavily on him.

With no time to spare for further contemplation, a soldier from the medical team entered the tent, "Officer Song, the general's condition has stabilised. You're permitted to see him in his private tent now."

Acknowledging the news with a nod, the military strategist expressed his gratitude, "Understood. Thank you, soldier. I'll head there immediately."

Not wasting another second, Mingi made his way over to General Park's tent, his concern for his friend overriding any other thought for now. As he pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside, his heart lurched at the sight before him.

The usually formidable military commander lay in bed, his complexion pale and his once-strong demeanour replaced by one of weakness. Seonghwa's hand was clenched tightly around the bandages covering his abdomen, his expression a mixture of pain and discomfort.

"Hyung-nim," Officer Song's voice was filled with worry as he approached the bedside, "How are you feeling?"

Suppressing a wince, the general released a breathy chuckle, "I'm fine, Mingi," He reassured, though his tone lacked conviction, "I've never seen you look this bothered before. It's almost funny."

The taller man scoffed in response, "And I've never seen you in pain like this before. But this isn't funny."

Seonghwa waved off his friend's concern with a weak smile, "Don't worry, it's just a scratch," He insisted, though his tone contradicted his words, "One of those sneaky bastards on the battlefield played dead. I let my guard down for a moment, and he took advantage of it."

Mingi's eyes widened in alarm, "And he managed to graze you?"

Nodding grimly, the general replied, "Yes, it could have been worse if I hadn't reacted in time. But it's strange. The wound shouldn't hurt this much, considering it's just a graze. Perhaps it's my age catching up with me. After all, I'm not as young as I used to be," He admitted ruefully, "But it's nothing serious. Just a minor setback."

Relieved that his superior seemed to be in stable condition, the strategist decided it was best to allow his friend some much-needed rest. With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, he advised, "You should probably rest up. We can't have you bedridden for long. I'll keep watch for now."

As he moved to leave the tent, the general posed a question, stopping him abruptly in his tracks, "Wait, Mingi, did anything happen while I was being treated earlier?" The taller man froze, his hand pressing on the papers he had kept in his pocket anxiously. He debated whether to reveal the contents of the letters now or wait until Seonghwa was in a better state.

He hesitated, grappling with the weight of his decision. After a moment's pause, he opted to keep the letters from your husband. Turning to offer a strained smile to the general, he denied any incident, "No, nothing happened. Don't worry, hyung-nim."

Seonghwa nodded slowly, his brows furrowing slightly, "I see."

A heavy silence hung between them until the strategist broke it with a forced cough, "I should probably head out now."

Before he could move, the general's voice cut through the air with accusation, "Do you honestly think me a fool, Officer Song? I offered you a chance for honesty, yet you persist in deceit. I may be injured, but I am not deaf. I heard the messenger loud and clear. Now, hand me my letters."

Mingi cursed inwardly, realising his mistake in attempting to deceive the great General Park. Sputtering, he reluctantly retrieved the crumpled letters from his pocket before handing them over, "I-I'm sorry, hyung-nim... I didn't mean to—"

Seonghwa shook his head in disbelief, snatching the papers from his friend's grasp, "I know you only did what you thought was right, just as you always do. But we both know you're a dumbass when it comes to anything outside of war strategising."

The taller man sighed as he observed the general's expression darkening further with each word he read from both letters. His fists clenched tightly as he digested the contents of the prince's letter, the paper tearing at the edges from his grip.

This son of a—

Jongho's prayers seemed to be answered as his master finally received his letter, but merely reading it wouldn't be enough to fix any of the damage the fourth prince was about to inflict.

As you gazed at the looming building ahead, an odd sense of dread filled your stomach, signalling that it probably wasn't a place any of you should be near. Yeosang's grin only heightened your apprehension, "Do you know what this place is, my lady?" His question struck fear into the assistant, who now realised the prince's strategy. Casting an anxious glance at Eunsook, his eyes conveyed the hopelessness of the situation. Previously confident in your faithfulness to your husband, they now harboured doubts.

Blinking rapidly, you croaked out, "I'm afraid I'm not too sure, Your Highness. But perhaps we should head back to the hall; we've been gone for a while now."

The prince shook his head dismissively, "You're always so thoughtful, my lady, but the banquet can wait. Come on, aren't you curious? This is a place General Park frequents. Surely, you'd be interested to learn what he does here." Your blood ran cold in an instant, sensing the conversation was taking a dangerous turn.

"I'm sure Assistant Choi has become quite familiar with this place by now, haven't you? You're always here to pick the general up after he finishes his sessions." Yeosang remarked, amused, as he observed the younger man struggling to respond.

Smirking, he went on, "Welcome, Miss Jang, to the palace torture chambers. I thought it'd be enlightening to show you where your... husband typically conducts important duties. You must have been curious about his activities during his working hours."

The revelation hit you like a tidal wave, freezing you in place. This was where your family had suffered, where Seonghwa had overseen their punishments, as San had explained. The weight of the truth settled heavily on your shoulders, sending a shiver down your spine as horror and disbelief mingled within you.

Jongho and Eunsook exchanged a look filled with desperation. They silently prayed for some miracle to whisk them away from this awful place. Oh, how they wished their master could appear now, but they knew it was nothing more than a wistful hope.

Your silence seemed to fuel Yeosang's discourse, "We should be thankful for General Park's services to the nation, of course," He continued, his tone dripping with faux gratitude, "Only the lord knows how many war criminals and spies he had tortured behind these walls to protect us."

Feigning contemplation, he added, "And if I remember correctly, he was also here when the Jang family underwent their physical punishments. Though I'm sure the general must have already informed you of that," He glanced at Eunsook, who lowered her head, her eyes shut tightly in fear of your reaction, "Especially how he made sure to spend extra hours with the former minister post-punishment."

Extra hours...?

Your heart plummeted to the lowest pit of your stomach as his words sank in. Did your husband do more than just supervise the punishments? The implications gnawed at your mind, and a thousand questions raced through your head. What else could Seonghwa have possibly done to your father? Dread washed over you in waves as you struggled to comprehend the truth behind the prince's insinuations.

« Preview of Part 17 »

"General Park! Where is he?!" The military doctor rushed into the main tent in a panic after realising Seonghwa was nowhere to be found in his private tent.

Mingi looked up from his documents, "My apologies, I should have informed you earlier to prevent any unnecessary alarm. The general mentioned feeling slightly better and had left camp to return home briefly for a family emergency."

"He left?! Is he making the journey back to the city alone?" The physician squeaked, eyes widening in alarm.

Officer Song nodded, his brows furrowed, "Yes, doc. What's wrong? You're scaring me."

Gulping nervously, the doctor retrieved the dagger used by the enemy earlier, "We found it unusual for such a small wound to affect the general so severely. We ran some tests on the weapon and..."

Mingi began to rise from his seat immediately, anxiety was evident in his expression, "Tell me, what did you find?"

"This dagger was laced with poisonous viper venom. It's potent enough to cause damage to his internal organs. He's lucky it was just a graze, but even so, we can't be sure how much venom has entered his system. He requires thorough treatment to prevent the poison from spreading."

Shit, shit, SHIT.

I AM SO SORRY! Okay, I know I said there would be drama in this part, and believe me when I say this, I fully intended to include it in this part in the beginning... but I am planning to end the story in part 20. So, after careful calculations, seems like it's only right to put the climax in part 17.

Also, it's official! There will be spinoff stories for the other members, I'm so excited! I hope you are too! As always, thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/2): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @kamabokogonpachro @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @wolfgurl2600-blog

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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reverieblondie · 11 days

Note

Could I request headcanons for Gale, Halsin, Wyll, and Astarion with touch starved gn s/o?

I ended up rewriting these a few times but I hope you enjoy reading it! Last Bullet point is NSFW!

Halsin

Halsin would never say you were obvious, but figuring out you were touched starved was relatively easy to tell. Especially with the game you were playing, it was clear after the nth time you asked for healing from him from a mere paper cut on your finger. Though, could anyone really blame you? After spending so much time on the road, with no friendly touch for weeks, then when Halsin came to your aid to heal you from a particularly nasty hit from a goblin, That was the start of it, the aching for him; you had been healed by others before but…nobody did healing like Halsin. Most healers hover their hands over you, but Halisn would hold you, pressing his large but tender hands to your skin, letting his healing magic flow through from him to you; the touch would send tingling shivers through you; some would argue that it was from the magic…But you knew it was from his touch. Halsin was more than willing to help heal you every time; in fact, the consent wanting his touch helped you two connect. Halsin hoped you would confess you wanted him to hold you one day. But you never did. So when you came for healing from your “terribly painful stomach ache,” he knew he would have to make the first move. “I think I know the perfect solution to your problem,” he whispered before he wrapped you in a tight hug; every ache and pain melted away from his touch. It is truly the perfect medicine anytime you feel touch starved.

Every party of Halsin is perfection in your eyes. Oak father really did a fantastic job when it came to making him. However, the one place you’re always grabbing onto the most is his arms. It’s not hard to see why; it’s nearly impossible to keep from clinging to his massive limbs, snuggling into them, running your hands over his thick forearms. Halsin, the sweetheart, doesn’t seem to mind your clinging, even if he is busy carving away. Now that Halsin has noticed your fondness for his arms, he may or may not start to flex them subtly when gesturing or wearing shirts that expose them so you can see every slight rippling of his muscles. Halsin will let you cling to him as long as he can nuzzle into his favorite part of you later tonight…

Now usually you’re the needy one in the relationship, pleading for hugs and beaming every time you get wrapped up in Halsins arms. Today has been different, however. It started when you woke up with Halsins hands creasing your sides and snuggling into your neck, of course you melted at the touch, thoroughly relishing in the attention, but it didn’t end there. Usually, Halsin would walk through the woods for some meditation and to gather herbs and materials for you two, but today, he didn’t leave your side. Of course, you loved it, but a part of you was starting to get worried. When you brought it up, he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest, “I just find myself wanting to be near you, my heart.” You squeeze his large hands back, “Well, let me help you, my love.” rising to your tiptoes, you begin to pepper kisses all over Halsins face. He grabs your waist and lifts you to meet his lips with yours quickly; the kiss only makes him needier.

He loves every part of you, from your hair to your adorable toes. But his hands consistently linger on your curves. On those days when you are feeling extra needy. Halsin is more than willing to help…In some inventive ways. The contrast is maddening… The smooth honey slips on top of your heated skin, and then Halsins rough tongue licks up the sticky liquid off your stomach. His hands guide your back to an arch as he keeps his hazel eyes on your moaning face. Sucking and licking as his hands continue to run over your squirming body. Halsin doesn’t know what is sweeter, the honey or you; he will spend all night trying to figure it out.

Zevlor

Zevlor has been around for a while but was never too familiar with the term ‘Touched starved.’ Sure, he had heard it back in his commander days from soldiers whispering about needing attention of the flesh but never truly gave it too much thought…until. The idea came to him when he noticed a particular trait of yours. You had no special awareness when it came to him. Consistently, you were leaning into him quite closely, and when you two walked around during perimeter checks, you would often bump into him or brush your hand against his. Of course, you would apologize for your clumsiness, but deep down, you knew what was happening…Your body was burning for him, his warmth, his touch, and it was seeking it out in any way possible. It didn’t click so quickly for Zevlor until he saw you sparing, and there was no inclination of any clumsiness in your movements; even with others, he never saw you bump or run into anything; your movements were precise and calculated…and that’s when he figured it out you were touching him purposely. Zevlors first thought was, why? Then his second was how can he tell you to only ask him for his touch. Finally, one day, as you two were doing your usual perimeter check, you slowly inched closer and closer to him, seeking the slight relief of his touch. Still, as you went to bump into him for only a moment, you found the ex-hellrider wrapped his arms quickly around you keeping you to his warm chest. Eyes wide, you go to apologize, but Zevlor is quick to quiet your worries, “If you need my warmth…please don’t hesitate to ask me…” After that day, you got a hug from him every chance you could…

Zevlor enjoys the sweet intimacy of your relationship. At first, he was not used to someone wanting to hold him so closely and shower him with affection, but slowly, he is getting used to it and enjoying it immensely. Though, you still find ways to surprise him…For example, when you start paying particular attention to his cheeks and horns, you can’t stop wanting to hold his face so tenderly and whisper soft praises to him. “I’ve never seen beauty like yours, Zevy…” he feels his heart melt at every whisper and every gentle touch to his skin. Then, if you happen to caress the base of his horns? Well…you have never heard such a deep pur.

It had been the first day in a long while that you and Zevlor spent most of the day apart. He had promised to speak to some recruits in the city, sharing his wisdom, and you had opted to stay at home. You were expecting him to come home at any minute, so you were working hard to prepare a surprise dinner for him. You missed him being home; usually, you would spend the day working in your small garden together and setting out laundry on the line together. It was lonely without him, so you planned to show him how much you missed him. As you were finishing your stew, you felt arms snaking around your waist. You gasped before his familiar voice eased you, “Be still, my dear, it’s only me…” Your body immediately relaxes as you turn to hug him back. “How was your trip?” Zevlor only hums as he buries his head into your neck. “I missed you…the road was lonely without you by my side…” you rub your hands up and down his arms as they hug you. Then you feel one of his arms part from you and hear the stove turn off; before you can ask anything else, you’re lifted and carried away toward your shared room. “Zev! What- What about Dinner?” “It can wait…I need to be close to you, just for a while…” The stew wasn’t eaten until much later…

“So beautiful…” his breath is warm as he whispers the complement into your neck. Zevlor’s lips caress your tender skin as he moves to your ear. You cling to his broad shoulders tighten, and your legs squeeze his textured hips. “You’re taking me so well. I’m proud of you.” The moan is involuntary as you feel him push deeper, his lips catching and nipping on your ear, his sharp teeth threatening to pierce, but his tongue soothing you so softly. Moving from your ear, you almost let out a whine before he blows a teasing breath on your neck, causing you to squirm and keen at the tickleing sensation. Zevlor’s fiery eyes look down at you, and that soft smile never fails to melt your core. He leans in, lips hovering over yours, his hands softly gliding down your waist, “I love you…” The vow is then sealed with a kiss.

Wyll

Wyll hadn’t thought of you as touched starved until you had to tell him flat-out. To his credit, you didn’t make it easy for him to figure out. When Wyll thinks of the term touched starved, he thinks of someone like him. Someone always willing to give out a hug or a friendly pat on the back; if you’re touched starved and in the proximity of Wyll, you were not touched starved for long. Hells, Wyll would risk the burns of hugging Karlach if she so requested. You, on the other hand, would never seem to be receptive to his friendly gestures, having grown up in a home with little affection and living on the brutal road for a while with a pleasant touch would always be a shock to your system. Especially from Wyll, it was like lightning shooting through your body with a new surge of energy you didn’t know what to do with, so you would tense up. After feeling you clamp up, Wyll simply thought you didn’t like to be touched, so ever the gentleman, he stopped. But that only made you begin to grave him…Finally, after days of seeing him touch and hug your other friends, you felt yourself going to pop. In a spur of the moment, you walked into his tent, staring at his confused features; timidness threatened to take you over, so with shaking limbs, you held your arms open with a shaky beg of “Please…” Wyll’s smile would grow so wide as he embraced you. “I thought you didn’t like to be touched?” “I…I like it when you do it…I crave your embrace…” Wyll will never make you ask please for a hug again…but other things, he might…

You couldn’t explain exactly why you love it so much, but you find you’re running your hands up and down Wylls strong back every time you get the chance. Maybe it was from seeing all its glory when he returned from the river or in the early mornings when he woke up for training. There’s just something about his broad shoulders that lean down to his narrow waist that makes your hands twitch to touch him. Wyll, of course, isn’t oblivious to how you take him in; that might be why he walks around without a shirt more often. His favorite part about liking his back is when you rest your head between his shoulder blades and hold onto him tightly. It never fails to put a smile on both your faces.

Between the two of you, you’re the one who is always slow to wake. On a typical day, you usually wake up to an empty left side of the bed, but this morning is different. You wake up to your body being held by what looks like a sleeping Wyll. Your first instinct is to worry and check him for a fever, but you find that he feels normal, and when he wakes, he greets you with a lazy smirk. “Are you okay, Wyll? You’re usually up by now?” Wyll hums softly as his eyes lazily roam over your form, “I woke up earlier but found that I couldn’t part from you…” His sweet words always make you blush, and you go to say you're sorry out of habit, but you’re silenced by him gently stroking your cheek. “Well, How about I make breakfast for us? We could eat together.” As you rise, you are quickly grabbed and trapped within his arms, his lips attacking your neck in a plethora of kisses, making you giggle. “You’re not going anywhere…I am not done with you yet…”

It’s always so slow, his hands sliding up and down your spread legs while your sex grows more and more aroused. One part of you wants to beg him to stop teasing you, but you both know that the loving pass of his hands on your skin is what you crave. Wyll keeps his eyes on yours as his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The attention he gives you makes your mind hazy and your sex quiver in a way that only he causes. A moment of weakness causes you to moan his name. He will look down at your flushed face and smile against your skin before finally sliding his tongue on the spot you need him the most.

Rolan

Rolan is very familiar with the term being touched starved, and from being accused of it by Cal and Lia relentlessly, he was aware of the traits. Not that he thought he ever showed these. Then came you, and it was the end of him being touched starved. Rolan, at first, didn’t understand why every time you were near, your hand would absentmindedly rub in between his shoulder blades or how when you would go out to the tavern, you would sit so close to him, and it wasn’t as if you were unaware of this. No, from how you would look at his curious gaze with a smirk and a sparkle in your eyes, he knew you were messing with him. Though despite this…you two kept hanging out. If anyone would ask you if you longed for touch, you would say you only wanted Rolans and you had no shame about it; you just wished one day he would indicate the touch for once. Finally, one night, Rolan invited you to the tower to do some reading, something you could do at home, but you wouldn’t dream of passing up a moment to be around him. You two had found yourselves on the chaste, sitting very closely, exchanging blushing looks over the edges of your books, and with every passing page, you two would find yourselves inching closer and closer. Then, as your thighs are pressed together, you feel a warmth wrapping around your ankle. Looking down, you see his tail wrapped around you loosely, unsurely. Rolan had finally taken the initiative, and you were beaming. “If it bothers you, I can-” But before he could finish his sentence, you wrapped his arm around you as you curled into him more. You could hear the rapid rushing of his heart, and you could feel how it matched your own. “It doesn’t bother me; I’ve just been wondering what’s been taking you so long…” The teasing only rewards you with a tighter hold.

You find every part of Rolan to be utterly perfect, from his beautiful horns to his freckled cheeks to his toes. But the one part of him you constantly find yourself playing with is his tail, swaying and twitching like it has a mind of its own. You love to sneak behind him and run your fingers over the ridged base. The shiver and low growl he gives out every time makes you want to tease and touch him more, your hands becoming clammy for it. Today, you’re reading and mindlessly playing with the sharp tip till, finally, he’s curling the tail around your forearm and pulling you closer for a hungry kiss. He says he is being driven mad by your relentless teasing; you can only smile back before whispering, “Then you shouldn’t keep rewarding me…”

Rolan tries not to let his neediness get the better of him…but some days, he can’t resist your pull on him. Every time he saw you today, his hands roamed over every curve, his nose in the crook of your neck, and he muttered things you couldn’t catch. The attention was well received as you loved his every touch, but when you parted from him to wash up for the night, the look on his face was utter devastation. “I will be quick, then all night I am yours.” Rolan tsked as he let you go, sitting down in his chair where he would wait for your return. You tried your best to hurry into the bath but were not quick enough. As you wet your hair to be ready for washing, you heard the door open and were greeted by the magnificent sight of Rolan in a small cloth wrapped around his waist. He motions for you to make room. He removes his towel and joins you in the bath. You are happy but utterly confused, and Rolan is quick to defend his actions as he gathers soap into his palm, “You took too long, so now I am here to help; now turn so I can wash your hair.” Without any protest, you turn and relish in the feeling of his clawed hands, washing and lathering the soap in your hair, taking the time to scratch your scalp as he cleans you gently. Maybe you should have him wash your hair every time? If you asked, Rolan would be happy, too.

It started as a pleasant surprise; while you two were working at Sundries, his tail kept brushing against your butt, and when you two would be out of view from prying eyes, his hand would gently caress your ass. These are simple hints of his wants; you are always eager for his touch. Now here you are, pressed against the back wall with Rolan's needy hands grabbing tight handfuls of your butt. Pants are quickly discarded, and he gives you a quick slap to the soft exposed flesh for being such a naughty distraction. You keen and arch, grinding your ass against his burning erection. A deep moan when his nails dig into your flesh as he starts to rut into you deeply. Panting breaths, intertwined limbs, sweaty bodies desperately rocking against each other. It’s the night you learned that the Great Master Rolan is an ass man.

Gale

You never thought of yourself as touched starved; sure, you had points when you thought of being held or holding someone, but it was never something you would say you were starving for; well, that was until Gale. It was an accident when it happened; you two had offered to go to the morning market to gather supplies for dinner. The morning market was incredibly crowded, and you two kept getting separated. Gale, always the quick thinker, came up with the best solution. As he walked in front of you like a shield, he grabbed your hand and led you through. The gesture immediately stirred something within you, and as you walked hand in hand, looking at the back of him, you found yourself tightening your grip. During the rest of your time at the market, you two held each other’s hands. It wasn’t until you two returned to camp that you realized you held hands the whole way back. After that day, you reached out for his hand more often. Gale, of course, didn’t seem to mind. He liked the extra company, but getting you to let go so he could cut vegetables was challenging. After a while, you will find yourself craving more touches from Gale. So late one night, you crawled into his tent; when you woke him, he was initially surprised, asking you what you needed. “I…I think I’m touched starved…could…you hold me for a bit?” Gale’s heart nearly burst out of his chest, but he eagerly invites you into his arms, delighted to share in cuddles and maybe a few kisses.

It should be no surprise your favorite place to touch Gale is his hands. They are perfectly soft and fit perfectly within yours. You find that your hands are interlocked together if you’re by him. Gale finds your need to hold him in some way lovely and ultimately endearing. Gale’s favorite times when you hold his hands is when you are fast asleep curled up with him in his bedroll, your hands interlaced with his. He doesn’t dare move them because he knows you will only start seeking them again in your sleep.

You’re used to holding Gale’s hand, but on days he’s feeling needy, you find that his hands tend to roam. Today had been one of those days; his hands had started lazily, moving up and down your arms, gently grazing you all morning so tenderly. By the afternoon, his hands had found their way to run up and down your back, moving so slowly to send shivers through your body successfully. Then, in the Evening, they moved to trace your sides as his lips caressed the sensitive skin of your neck. Finally, you asked if he was well, his lips smiling against your skin. “Perfectly fine…just being needy for you…does it bother you?” you feel your skin flush, and your lips curl to an excited smile. “No, I like the attention from you…” Gale is always ready to shower you with attention; you just need to ask…

The man didn’t lie when he told you he had a practiced tongue, and tonight, you are finding that out firsthand. You felt needy when you crawled into his tent; it was late, and he was surprisingly awake. At first, it was innocent, simple hand holding a kiss or two like other nights before to satisfy your need, but tonight, you’re finding your aching for more, and Gale knows this. All you need to do is ask…Your hands grip tightly to the blankets as his tongue works against you. Gales focuses as his hands grip your thighs, and he sucks and licks more. He’s desperate to taste your release all over his tongue, and with him always being so good to you, who are you to deny him?

Astarion

With all he had been through, the feeling of being touched had become unstimulating. Astartion had felt every kind of touch possible. Well, at least that’s what he thought, until you. The energy between you two had been electric from the first moment; you were brilliant, and his usual charms didn’t make you bend like they did others. In fact, for all his teasing, you would give back your own. It was like a game between you two, and it only made you crave each other more. Then it hit its peak…You were admittedly getting lost in his words as he spoke to you, but it was different; it was genuine, and you had never felt so close to others. So when you gently brushed back his hair as he talked, you both found yourself looking at each other in surprise. Your weakness shocked you, and Astarion was surprised by someone touching him so gently, as if he were made of glass. Going to take back your hand, it’s quickly caught by his, and gentle lips pressing to your palm sets your skin ablaze. The kiss was as soft as your touch, but Astarion can never pass up an opportunity… “Couldn’t help yourself anymore, hm?” You would accept defeat this once…

Astarion has never been a fan of cuddling…well, not until he met you. And what did you do to make him change his mind on the slow and intimate activity? Astarion loves the way your fingers brush slowly and carefully through his hair. He finds he has gradually become needy for that soft, gentle touch. On the other hand, you love the feeling of his soft locks slipping through your fingers; actually, there are many things you can adore about Astarion; you find the soft touch of brushing through his hair always seems to relax you. You could spend all night with him in your arms like this…and you do.

You didn’t know if it was your imagination, but Astarion seemed grumpy today. You had tried to joke around with him and even participate in some teasing and flirting, but he wasn’t receptive. Thinking it best to just drop it, you left him alone for the rest of the day, going about your usual task. Then Evening rolled around; you were getting ready for bed when you heard a throat clearing outside your tent. Poking your head out, you saw Astarion looking…bashful? “Do you mind…if I slept here…with you…I’ve…been feeling off…” One part of you wanted him to explain; he had ignored you, and now he wants to sleep in your tent with you? And wait, elves don’t sleep? But something about the look in his red eyes…he seemed…lonely…Gently, you reach your hand out to grab the sleeve of his shirt and pull him in softly. The rest of the night was spent with you sleeping with your head in his lap as he read to your sleeping form. Being around you made him feel so much better; it was as he thought…he was starting to rely on you, and for once, the thought of depending on another didn’t scare him.

Sometimes, you can not decide who is needer between the two of you. Of course, you two tease each other about it, but Astarion is always the better tease. You’re rolling your eyes in both pleasure and annoyance as he moves his tongue across your chest, your nipples peaked and sensitive to every feathery touch. You try to keep your moans in, but it’s useless; “You make such pretty sounds, darling, keep it up.” His cold hands move between caressing your chest and your skin to find your sensitive nipples. Red eyes look up at you, filled with mischief. Is he satisfied with just a taste? Or will he bite…

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domjaehyun · 1 year

Text

tangerine love (favorite) (l.dh)

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader

GENRES. fluff, smut, light humor

WORD COUNT. 21.8k

CONTENTS. explicit smut (oral (receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cumming inside, riding, breast/nipple play, haechan kinda likes to talk dirty)

NOTES. mandarins and tangerines are actually not interchangeable but for the sake of this fic, i do not care. this was very fun to write. i hope you enjoy it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :)

PLAYLIST. plastic off the sofa - beyoncé // tangerine love (favorite) - nct dream

Ever since moving into this new apartment complex with your friends Mijoo and Chuu, you’ve only caught a few glimpses of the three guys that live directly across the hall from you.

Renjun, Jaemin, and Haechan all seem like nice guys in passing, always smiling politely and waving, but there’s always been something…different about Haechan. You could chalk it up to a budding crush on the handsome male, but there’s always a playful air to his presence, his eyes glinting with a secret you’re begging to be let in on.

You barely get any discerning words in whenever you pass by each other, the only notable time you’ve spent together being in a quick trip up to your floor in the elevator, and you spent that whole time trying to avoid getting caught ogling his attractive features.

Based on the small amused chuckle he’d let out after a quick glance to you as he’d gestured for you to exit first, you think you weren’t as discreet as you’d hoped to be.

That mildly embarrassing incident, however, only registers as a 3 on the Embarrassment Richter Scale that you definitely did not just make up.

What definitely classifies as a 6, however, and you’re not being dramatic (probably), is tonight, when you make it to your apartment at 4:00am to find that you’ve forgotten your key and are, therefore, locked out.

After three unanswered calls to each of your roommates’ phones and four whining voicemails, you begin to lose hope.

“Oh, come on,” you mutter, restlessly shifting from foot to foot as you knock at the door insistently. “Wake up, wake up—”

“Hey, neighbor,” you hear from behind you, and you hesitate, praying you’ve incorrectly matched the voice to a person, before turning around.

Of course, because your luck is just fantastic, none other than Haechan stands behind you, leaning against the wall by his front door.

“Hey,” you offer a small wave, and he raises his eyebrows, gesturing at your door with a hand holding a beer can. “Locked out.”

“Ah,” he says sympathetically. “That sucks. Have you tried kicking it?”

“K-Kicking it?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion, and he nods, striding across the hall to stand beside you. He smells amazing, you note with a dreamy sigh that you hope he didn’t hear, and he points to the part of the door where the lock is.

“Yeah, maybe if you kick it right here,” he cranes his head to look at you, smirking slightly when you blink at him wide-eyed, “you can kick the door in. I saw it on TV once.”

“We aren’t on TV,” you comment with a small snort, making Haechan chuckle and nod in agreement, “but I can give it a try.” You step back and rear up, kicking the door where Haechan pointed as hard as you can.

The sound is embarrassingly loud and the black shoe print on your door is only a testament to your failed attempt to gain access to your apartment.

Haechan snickers loudly from beside you, and you turn to him, eyes narrowed.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, holding his hands up in the air defensively. “It was an impressive kick, though.”

You straighten up slightly at the compliment, smoothing down your jacket. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he says sincerely. “You’ve got a lot of power in those legs.”

“Thanks,” you hum thoughtfully.

“What are you even doing out so late? It’s not safe to be out alone at this hour.” Haechan asks, and you huff in defeat.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I wanted to go for a walk to de-stress, y’know? Clear my head.” you sigh.

“I see,” he remarks, taking a sip from his can as he leans against the wall beside your door. “Well, how’d that work out for you?” His tone is teasing, and when you turn to glare at him, the playful look on his face makes it impossible for you to maintain the disdainful expression.

“Not great,” you mutter, smiling despite your situation.

“Well, y’know, if you wanna come in until one of your roommates wakes up, you’re more than welcome,” Haechan offers, jerking his chin in the direction of his door.

“That’s a very nice offer,” you say appreciatively. “Why are you awake, actually?”

“I don’t like to sleep.” Haechan answers, shrugging.

You blink at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” he chirps. “Sleep makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.”

“The FOMO runs strong in you, I see.” You offer a wry smile which he returns and you lean your back against your front door beside him. Looking over at you, he pushes off of the wall and turns so he’s standing in front of you.

You really wish he hadn’t done that, actually, because now you’re forced to confront how unfairly handsome he is, and you suspect Haechan knows that, given the way his eyebrow arches attractively.

“Think about it this way,” he shifts closer to you slightly, his tongue running over his bottom lip, “I would’ve missed out on getting to talk to you tonight if I was sleeping.”

“Very true,” you muse with a small smile, and he grins. “Didn’t know that my company is worth staying up for.”

“Of course it is,” he scoffs. “Who else is gonna stare at me when she thinks I’m not looking?” His words freeze you in place, your expression resembling a deer in headlights before he laughs to break the tension. “I’m teasing.”

“Oh,” you mumble, but you both know there’s truth to his words; your face doesn’t hide your emotions well at all, and you’re surprised you’ve managed to go this long without looking at him and practically swooning.

“Cute,” he says softly, eyes scanning your face.

Before you even get to comment on the unexpected compliment, your door unlocks and you spring forward just in time to avoid falling back as it opens. A very sleepy, very cranky Mijoo stands in your doorway, eyes barely open as she holds the door open for you.

In your haste to get off of the door, you fail to realize your surroundings, lurching forward and directly into Haechan’s personal space. Your chests are but a breath away from touching, and he chuckles, bracing you with both hands on your hips. The cold condensation of his can seeps into the hem of your shirt and you swallow hard as you look up at him sheepishly.

“Sorry about that,” you mumble, stepping back slightly, realizing a moment later that Haechan still hasn’t released your hips. He seems to notice when you do, clearing his throat and dropping his hands back to his sides with a small smile.

Turning to thank Mijoo, you notice that she’s already left, presumably having shuffled off to her bedroom to resume her sleep, leaving the door slightly ajar with a slipper.

“Glad you got in,” he remarks, gesturing behind you at your apartment, and you nod in appreciation.

“Thanks for, uh, keeping me company.” you say with a bashful smile.

“No problem.” He walks backwards to his front door, opening it without looking, and raises two fingers to his brow in a mock salute.

“Good night.” You bid him goodbye with a wave, turning to head into your apartment before he calls your name, prompting you to turn back around. “Yeah?”

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” He sounds, if you’re not crazy, like he’s flirting with you, and your eyes widen as he lifts his brows in a playful wiggle.

“Okay,” you agree with an almost robotic nod, and he grins before turning and heading into his apartment, prompting you to follow suit.

When the door’s shut and locked, you let out a long exhale, finally letting your giddy squeals bubble up out of you.

He called you cute. He called you cute and he touched your hips, and he was so close—

Okay, maybe the Embarrassment Richter Scale would classify that as a 4 instead—points were docked because it may have actually worked out in your favor somewhat.

You haven’t really fulfilled your promise of not being a stranger with Haechan; he still makes your heart skip a nervous little beat every time he grins at you from across a room or waves at you in passing.

He, however, is doing a great job of not being a stranger with your roommates, both of them regaling you with funny things Haechan has told them in various conversations. Chuu works with Haechan at the bookstore, as it turns out, and Mijoo just has a convenient schedule, running into your handsome neighbor more often than you do.

Are you bitter? No. Absolutely not. Are you jealous? Not in the slightest.

Are you lying about both of those things? Yes, entirely.

You’re heading out of your apartment to the grocery store, locking the door behind you when you hear the door across the hall open.

Turning to see who it is, your eyes widen and a giddy little smile tugs at your lips as Haechan looks you up and down.

“Well, look who it is,” Haechan greets you, and your smile widens.

“Hi, Haechan.” you say softly, attempting to sound as casual as possible.

“Where are you headed?”

“The grocery store,” you explain, showing him your tote bag filled with reusable shopping bags.

“What a coincidence,” he muses, stepping closer to you. “So am I?”

“Really?” you say in surprise, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Yeah,” he confirms, stepping even closer to you. He’s close enough now that you can smell the warm, cozy scent of his cologne. “You didn’t keep your promise,” he points out, frowning very attractively at you.

“About not being a stranger?” you ask, and he nods, his frown deepening.

As cute as he is like that, you don’t think you ever want to be the reason he frowns again.

“You can make it up to me if you wanna,” he suggests, a playful lilt to his voice, and you raise an eyebrow suspiciously.

“How’s that?”

“Be my shopping buddy for today.”

You pretend to think about it, smiling when he looks at you expectantly. “Okay.”

“Great! We can take my car.”

“Oh, thank God. I was gonna walk.”

“Aren’t you lucky to have me?” He grins and gestures down the hall for you to walk with him.

“Something like that,” you mumble under your breath, Haechan thankfully not hearing you.

The ride to the store is pleasant, Haechan playing music in the car—almost exclusively Michael Jackson, to be specific, with the inclusion of some other artists—and you two talk the whole time, never a lull in the conversation as you learn more about each other.

He works at the bookstore a couple blocks down from the record store you work at, likes playing video games and listening to music, and is, on top of an incessant flirt, a very attentive listener.

You two make your way through the store gradually, your shared cart filled with various frozen goods and produce items. You’re in the fruits section, inspecting bags of mandarins to find the best bunch, when you both start to speak.

“Hey, I just thought—”

“You know what’s so—”

You both stop talking at the same time, laughing before you gesture for him to speak.

“I was just thinking about how you work at the record store; do you guys have this one Michael Jackson vinyl? It’s limited edition, so you probably don’t, but—”

“What’s it look like?” you ask, and he pulls up a picture on his phone, showing you and looking at you hopefully.

“I can’t say no for sure, because I haven’t checked. I’ll check and let you know!” you assure him, and he smiles in relief.

“That’d be awesome. I’ve been looking for it everywhere. What were you gonna say?”

“I was gonna say that it’s so sick that produce companies put mandarins and other orange citruses in orange netted bags to make them look more appealing.” you huff, inspecting the bag you’re holding more carefully.

“It’s sneaky,” Haechan agrees with a small smile as he watches you.

“It’s deceitful!” you exclaim indignantly, and he snorts, barely biting back his laughter. “I’m serious!” You frown, and he hums sympathetically.

“I understand.” He pats your shoulder gently, his hand lingering for a moment before dropping, his fingers grazing your arm on the way down.

“I think these are good.” you finally decide, placing your bag in the cart, and Haechan quickly looks over the mandarins, plucking a bag of his own and placing it in the bottom of the cart. “You like mandarins, too?”

“Love them,” he confirms, and you smile, pleasantly surprised. “Do you have anything else on your list?”

“Nope; you?”

“Nope. Let’s go to the check-out aisle?” He gestures towards the front of the store, and you nod, walking beside him as you both push the cart. (Well, truthfully, Haechan is doing all the pushing; your hands are on the bar for decoration, essentially.)

When you get to the front aisle, a familiar voice calls your name and you crane your head to find the source.

“I think it’s Mijoo,” Haechan murmurs, also looking around.

Do you bristle slightly at the thought that he recognized your friend’s voice before you did? No, absolutely not. And you’re definitely not lying to yourself right now.

You find her in aisle six, loading up your groceries on the conveyor belt and separating them with the divider as you greet Mijoo.

“How’s work?” you ask curiously, and she frowns deeply. “Oh, no.”

“I just got yelled at by some old lady who got mad I wouldn’t take her expired coupons. They expired four months ago.” Her face is deadpan, and you wince.

“Damn,” you sigh sympathetically as she scans your groceries. “If you want her to suffer, give me a call.”

She snorts loudly, putting in her employee code so you’ll get a discount on the groceries, and looks at you with an amused but unimpressed stare. “What are you gonna do?”

“Steal her cane or something, I don’t know.”

“That’s evil,” Mijoo giggles, gesturing for you to pay. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“You left something in the cart,” Haechan calls to you, and you frown, turning back to check. He shifts to take your place as you check before saying, “Oh, sorry, I think that’s mine, actually.” He smiles sheepishly, and you wave him off gently, turning back to the pin pad to see “Transaction Approved!” You turn to look at Haechan, who’s putting his card away, and shoot him an incredulous stare.

“What?” He’s grinning cheekily at you, and you splutter awkwardly.

“Did you just pay for my groceries?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he replies smoothly, and you narrow your eyes, looking over at Mijoo for support.

She raises her hands in surrender, looking down at her scanner. “Don’t bring me into this.”

“Traitor!” you whisper incredulously, and she frowns at you.

“Sorry.”

You direct your narrowed-eyed gaze to Haechan for a moment and then shuffle to the bagging section, carefully packing up your groceries as Haechan checks out his groceries. As they come down the conveyor belt, you package his things up too, and he smiles gratefully at you as he makes his way to you.

You catch him giving Mijoo a fist bump and murmuring, “Thanks,” as you’re finishing up the bagging, and you huff petulantly, loading up everything into the cart.

You bid Mijoo goodbye and head out of the store, walking to Haechan’s car and starting to take things out of the cart as he opens the trunk.

“You’re pretty close with my roommates,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, side-eyeing Haechan.

“Not really,” he dismisses you. “I work with Chuu at the bookstore, and I really just see Mijoo in passing.”

“Well, you guys were all buddy-buddy just now,” you point out, trying your best to hide the jealousy creeping into your tone.

Your attempt fails, if Haechan raising his eyebrow in amusement is any indication.

“Are you…jealous?” Haechan asks with a smile, and your eyes widen.

“No!” you yelp, clutching a bag to your chest almost protectively. “I am not.”

“You totally are,” he snickers, and your brows furrow. “It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute,” you counter, “because I am not jealous.”

“Oh, yeah?” Poking his tongue into his cheek and grinning at you, his casually attractive appearance practically takes your breath away.

“Yeah,” you mumble weakly. “I totally don’t mind that you talk to my roommates more than you talk to me. Doesn’t bother me at all.” Haechan doesn’t respond for a moment, giving you the opportunity to place the last bag in the trunk of the car. When you shut the trunk and turn around, you jolt in surprise at his sudden proximity, the two of you almost face to face, and he chuckles at your reaction before refocusing his gaze on your eyes.

“What if I said I was only befriending them to get close to you?” He raises his eyebrows with a flirtatious little wiggle, and you swallow thickly, looking down to break eye contact. Apparently, he doesn’t intend to give you a break anytime soon, ducking down slightly to lock eyes with you again. “Hm?”

“I’d ignore all of that,” you say slowly, carefully controlling the nervous yet excited tremor in your voice, “to ask why your face is this close to mine.”

“Why?” His eyes are alight with glee as he backs you up against the car slowly, and you gulp. “Does it make you nervous?”

“No,” you huff.

“You’re lying.”

“I am not lying!” you lie.

He raises his eyebrows again as if to say, “is that so?” He leans closer to you, now focused unwaveringly on your mouth, and wets his lips. You both stand frozen in place for a moment before he leans in closer and you break, yelping in panic before ducking so the crown of your head rests against his chest.

He calls your name softly and you shake your head, whining quietly in protest. He matches your tone, whining your name plaintively as he gently shakes your shoulders, and you peek up at him to see him grinning down at you.

“Told you.” He shoots you a smug upwards flick of his eyebrows before backing up to give you a moment of relief. “Now come on, the frozen stuff is gonna thaw.” When you don’t move at first, still stuck in place from the intimate moment you two just shared, he snickers and reaches for your hand, leading you to the passenger door, which he opens for you, waiting for you to get in.

Your body finally listens to you, sitting down in the passenger seat and strapping yourself in, and he shuts the door before making his way over to the driver’s side and getting in. He straps in and starts the car, looking over to you.

“You ready?”

You nod. “Ready.”

He smiles. “Then off we go.”

“Hey,” Haechan nudges you as you’re unloading the trunk, “I bet I can carry up more groceries than you.”

“No way.” you laugh, and his eyes light up as he grins before hurriedly snatching as many bags as his arms and hands can hold. “Haechan, there are eggs in here!” you warn in alarm as you grab bags quickly, swatting his hands away when he reaches for any bag you’ve set your sights on.

He shuts the trunk and locks the car before standing in front of you proudly. He’s definitely got you beat, holding no less than six bags of groceries, most of them being your reusable bags.

“You cheated,” you grumble bitterly, and he just grins and jerks his head towards the building.

“C’mon,” he says softly, walking towards the entrance. You walk after him and he says, “Do you know the real reason why I wanted to have that competition?”

“Because you’re competitive and wanted to see me meet my demise?” You look over at him, and he laughs before shaking his head.

“I wanted an excuse to be a gentleman and take your groceries up for you.” He holds the front door open for you, and you walk through, murmuring a “thank you.”

“Well, that’s very sweet,” you mumble sheepishly as you press the elevator button and avoid his gaze, and he shrugs, smiling.

“I’m a very sweet guy,” he says with a nod, and you nod slowly, looking him up and down. The elevator doors open and you both step in, Haechan pressing the button for your floor and leaning against the back wall as the doors slide shut. “What is it?” He looks over at you curiously, chuckling when he sees you smiling.

“Usually, sweet people don’t need to say they’re sweet, y’know.”

He looks up thoughtfully before nodding in agreement and looking back down at you. “Maybe I can show you how sweet I am, then.”

You can’t help but feel like he’s hinting at something else, but you push the thought from your mind and meet his gaze once more.

“Maybe you can.” The elevator dings and the doors slide open, Haechan gesturing for you to exit and following after you. A thought comes to you as you set your groceries down to find your keys and you turn to him once more. “Haechan?”

“Mm?”

“Was your plan to hold my groceries partially so I’d have to let you into my apartment to unload them?”

“No,” he says truthfully. “I did plan on seeing you for longer, though, so now you have to figure out which bags are yours and which are mine.” He grins proudly, and you raise an eyebrow.

“I bagged them separately.”

His face falls slightly, and you think you might hate that. “Oh.”

“But you wanna know something?” You’re quick to follow up in an attempt to comfort him, and he looks at you curiously. “I used my bags on everything, so…technically…”

“My stuff is in your bags.” His smile returns to his face and your muscles relax slightly in relief. “So…technically…”

“You and I have to unload all this stuff,” you say slowly, feigning a pout. “And who knows how long that’s gonna take?”

“Looks like we’re gonna be spending a bit more time together, yeah?” He’s grinning at you, stepping closer so the fronts of your shoes are touching, and you can’t help but mirror his smile, turning away abruptly to unlock your door.

“I guess so.”

As you, Mijoo, and Chuu become better acquainted with your handsome neighbors across the hall, you get closer and closer until hanging out with them is almost second nature. At this point, you’re no stranger to coming home and finding your neighbors and roommates sprawled around the living room; hell, you’ve often joined them if work hasn’t left you entirely drained.

You’re not even a stranger to the heated debates over nothingness that your friends often start fights about; you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic, and often storm off to your room in a grandiose huff when your opinion is shot down.

(If you’re being honest, sometimes you’ll take the smallest opening to retreat to your room once you feel your social battery depleting, but you don’t plan on admitting that any time soon.)

This afternoon, when you unlock your front door, sounds of yelling greet you as you step into the apartment and kick your shoes off.

“You’re home!” Mijoo yells in relief, running into the entryway and beaming at you. “Just in time.”

“Time for what?” you ask warily, and more footsteps come rushing towards you as Chuu approaches rapidly.

“If a dog wore pants—”

“You’re cheating! Let her get in here first!” Renjun yells from the living room.

Chuu rolls her eyes. “If a dog wore pants—as a matter of fact, come here and show them.” She takes your hand and pulls you into the living room, where Haechan, Renjun, and Jaemin sit in various spots.

You lock eyes with Haechan, who grins and flicks his brows upwards as a greeting, and you snort quietly in amusement, smiling at him.

“If a dog wore pants,” Chuu stresses, shaking your hand to get your attention, “how would it look?”

You snicker. “This is what you’re fighting about?”

“Yes, ma’am. Now answer the question.”

“On its back paws,” you answer easily, and Chuu, Haechan, Jaemin, and Renjun exclaim triumphantly as Mijoo cries out in despair. “Mijoo, you’re kidding, right?”

“No! He has four legs!” she defends herself emphatically, and you shake your head vigorously.

“But the front two function as hands! You don’t put pants on your hands!”

“But they walk on all fours!”

“But if you handed a dog a ball, it would never try to grab it with its back two paws! Because those are its feet-feet, not its hands-feet!”

“I feel so betrayed,” Mijoo wails, rubbing her hand over her face.

“I mean, it’s okay!” You attempt to cheer her up, and she looks at you with a frown. “You’re entitled to your opinion—no matter how wrong it is.” You grin teasingly and you can hear Haechan snicker loudly from his chair.

“You little—”

“Who else had a wrong opinion they wanna share?” You change the topic, dodging when Mijoo launches a pillow at you. It hits the lamp instead, which falls and hits the wall, leaving a scuff mark. “That better buff out,” you warn a now sheepish looking Mijoo. “I am not losing my security deposit over something as silly as this.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mutters petulantly, and you pat her shoulder comfortingly.

“Is that all you’ve been talking about?” you laugh as you make your way into the kitchen, washing your hands and grabbing the bag of mandarins, bringing them back into the living room with you.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Renjun sighs, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Eventful.” you say sarcastically, Haechan calling your name and catching your attention.

“Come sit with me,” Haechan offers, scooting over to create space for you in the armchair. The gesture is sweet, but there definitely isn’t enough space for both of you, so you settle for perching on the arm of the seat, draping your arm over the back of the chair.

Haechan rests his cheek on your thigh, looking up at you expectantly, and you lightly scratch the crown of his head in greeting.

“Hi,” he murmurs as the rest of your friends launch into another discussion about who knows what.

“Hey,” you reply softly, smiling down at him.

“Are you retreating into your room today?” Haechan frowns slightly as he asks, and you think about it before giving a small nod. “Why?” he complains, dragging the word out and shaking your knee rapidly.

“I’m tired,” you match his whiny cadence, scratching his scalp more in lieu of an apology. “You can come if you want.”

He perks up immediately, looking up at you in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna sleep, I’m just gonna relax.” you reply, and he nods eagerly, sitting up and offering you his hand.

“C’mon!” He’s practically bouncing in his seat with excitement and you have to bite back a laugh as you take his hand and stand up, leading him to your room.

“Wh—how come you’re going in her room with her?” Jaemin complains as you leave the living room.

“The vibes are better,” Haechan calls over his shoulder and you snicker, opening your door and tossing the bag of mandarins on your bed.

“You wait here; I wanna change.” You go through your drawers to pull out a more comfortable shirt and Haechan lies down on your bed, eyes taking in the entirety of your bedroom.

“Okay,” he hums peacefully, closing his eyes with a smile.

You go into the bathroom and change out of your blouse and into your t-shirt, leaving your jeans on and tossing your shirt in the hamper on your way back to your room.

“Welcome back,” Haechan greets you when you shut the door behind you, opening his eyes to look at you. His gaze lingers on you for a few moments longer than you were expecting, his lips curling into a grin when you shift awkwardly and turn away from him.

“Thank you,” you mumble, sitting on your bed and picking up your phone and a mandarin. “You can play music, by the way; my speaker system is the one with my name.”

Haechan nods and, as he’s setting up his connection to your speaker, says, “I was gonna ask; how was your day today?”

“It sucked, kinda. Well, I’m being dramatic, but my coworker was getting on my nerves.” you huff, and Haechan hums sympathetically. Selecting a song, he gets comfortable as the music filters in through the speakers. “I should have known you’d play Michael Jackson,” you chuckle fondly, and he smiles sheepishly.

“I love his music.” He frowns defensively, and you pat his hand gently.

“I know! I don’t blame you—he’s got an impressive discography.” you assure him, and you can see him relax slightly in your peripheral vision. Looking over at him, he’s got a relieved, content smile on his lips, his hooded eyes regarding you curiously.

“Tell me about your coworker?” he asks after a moment, and you pause mid-peeling of your mandarin.

“She’s just a micro-manager,” you huff, peeling the rest of the rind off and launching into your spiel. “She always tries to tell me what to do, but—I mean, I don’t, like, get paid to listen to her of all people, y’know?”

“I do know,” Haechan agrees, nodding in understanding. “That’s super annoying, actually.”

“It is!” you gripe before softening slightly and turning to Haechan. “Want some?” You hand him a piece of your mandarin, and he brightens, taking it gratefully and popping it into his mouth.

You two sit there for ages, to your surprise, talking about everything and nothing, from Haechan’s lazy slacker coworker to philosophical debates such as whether you’d rather be really small or really big (you’re both team little, for stealth purposes), sharing piece after piece of mandarin until your bed is practically covered in rinds and the pleasant smell of citrus lingers in the room.

“I like hanging out in your room,” Haechan muses thoughtfully, looking over at you.

“I’m glad,” you smile widely. “There are perks, y’know?”

“Yeah, there are snacks, good conversation, good music—and,” Haechan murmurs, his voice lowering ever so slightly in pitch as he studies your face, “I get a pretty view,” his voice softens to a whisper as he watches your lips, slowly wetting his own.

Your heart could just about beat out of your chest from the compliment, and the way he’s looking at your lips has your breath faltering, teeth anxiously nibbling at your bottom lip as you watch him watching you.

“Thanks,” you mumble quietly, and he nods, still studying your lips.

If you’re not crazy, it kind of seems like he’s about to lean in, and you brace yourself for impact, your eyelids drooping slightly in anticipation. Just as you expected, he breathes in softly, leans in closer, tilting his head to the side, and—

A knock on your door makes you flinch and him freeze, a small sigh leaving his lips as he pulls back and jerks his chin towards the door, reminding you there’s someone waiting.

“Come in!” you call, and Chuu and Jaemin poke their heads into your room curiously.

“We’re ordering food; do you guys want anything?” Chuu offers, and you look at each other before nodding in agreement. “Cool; come put in your orders soon!”

“We’ll be right out,” Haechan assures them, and Chuu removes her head from the doorway, probably heading down the hall.

Jaemin scrutinizes you two carefully, making your skin crawl anxiously as he regards you with suspicion.

“Can I help you?” you ask with a frown, desperately hoping you don’t look as guilty as you feel.

“Kinda thought you two would be—never mind.” Jaemin says cryptically, giving you both one last once-over before leaving your room and shutting your door.

You two are silent, the only sound in the room being the music playing in the background, and you can barely bring yourself to look at Haechan, already very aware that he’s looking at you.

“Wanna go get some food?” he breaks the silence, and you nod immediately, grasping at the topic shift like a lifeline.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Oh, damn,” Haechan’s sympathetic wince sounds out from behind you and you turn to look at him, hissing and turning back around as water starts to drip towards your elbow. “They put you on dish duty tonight, I see.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, shooting him a frown over your shoulder. “Woe is me.”

“Poor baby,” he coos playfully, shrugging off his jacket and placing it on the island counter. Before you can either attempt to recuperate from the pet name or ask what he’s up to, he nudges you aside and picks up the spare dish cloth. “Don’t worry; Haechan is here to help.”

“My hero,” you joke, pretending to swoon, and he laughs as he soaps up his cloth and starts washing a plate. “No, but I do appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismisses you casually. “I was actually looking for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. “Why’s that?”

“I wanna get your opinion on something.” Haechan says slowly, carefully, and you nod, a silent sign for him to continue. “Well, I have this friend,” Haechan starts off, monitoring your expression out of the corner of his eye. “He’s really into this girl, but he doesn’t know if he should go for it or not.”

“Hm. Does the girl seem interested?” you ask, trying to get a better sense of the situation, and Haechan pauses, looking at you again and chuckling as he shakes his head.

“He can’t fully tell,” he answers, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he sets the plate down and picks up a bowl. “She’s a little clueless.”

“Maybe tell your friend to give it some time to get a better idea of where she’s at.” you suggest, and Haechan nods slowly, thinking it over.

“But here’s the thing,” Haechan adds, “I—my friend wants to kiss this girl so badly.”

“Aw,” you hum sympathetically. “Poor guy.”

“Yeah, poor guy,” Haechan mumbles, and you become very aware of the fact that he’s staring right at the side of your face.

You fixate on a piece of food stuck on the plate you’re washing, scrubbing at the spot vigorously to do away with your nerves.

Haechan pushes away from the sink, drying his hands and leaning against the island behind you, his still detectable, very probing stare sending shivers down your spine.

“He really wants to kiss her, y’know.” he stresses, and you pause because, for one of the first times in your adult life, you think you’re finally starting to get the hint.

“Yeah?” The word feels like it’s stuck in your throat, your heart rate picking up considerably as the poor thing thuds away in your chest.

“Mhm,” Haechan confirms, his voice lilting as if trying to lead someone to an answer. “He thinks about it all the time.”

“Maybe she wants him to kiss her,” you murmur, and you could swear Haechan’s breathing stops, at least for a moment. He says nothing for an uncomfortably long time, your words hanging in the air between you two.

“Yeah?” His voice is soft, testing the waters, and you can’t bring yourself to speak, your rapidly beating heart migrating up into your throat.

You nod.

He’s silent for what feels like ages, then he’s calling your name quietly, but urgently. His voice sounds significantly closer and the thought of being so close to him at a time like this has excitement bubbling inside of you.

“Hm?” Your response comes out as a squeak, to your utter embarrassment, but as Haechan places his hands on your hips and slowly turns you to face him, you get the sense that he might not be too focused on that.

He searches your eyes for something—you don’t know what—and, seemingly satisfied, his intent, determined gaze drops slowly to your lips. He takes a step closer, and another, his chest brushing against yours with every breath either of you take.

You swallow thickly, instinctively moving with him as he backs you up against the kitchen sink.

“Haechan?” you call breathlessly.

His gaze doesn’t move from your lips, his own mouth curling into a small smirk. “Mm?”

“Why are you so close?” you ask, the anticipation reaching its boiling point.

He finally looks away from your mouth, meeting your eyes as he speaks with a raised eyebrow and a flirtatious little grin. “I can’t kiss you from anywhere else, can I?”

There, with soapy water dripping down your forearms and onto the floor and the faint chatter of your friends in the other room, Haechan kisses you for the first time.

His lips are warm and soft, and his hands are still slightly damp as one cups the side of your neck, thumb gently stroking your cheek, and the other presses against the small of your back, drawing you in closer.

As your lips move against the other’s, you come to your senses slightly and regain control of your body, wrapping one arm around his neck before pulling back quickly in realization.

His eyes are still closed for a fleeting moment after the kiss, lips parted slightly before he opens his eyes and regards you curiously.

“My hands,” you mumble before he has a chance to misread the situation, wiping them on your jeans hurriedly as your eyes fixate on a drop of water on the floor to avoid looking at him, “they’re all wet. From the sink water—”

Haechan calls your name with a laugh on the tip of his tongue, and you drag your gaze to meet his.

“Yes?”

“I don’t care about that.” he assures you, pulling you back in and slotting his lips with yours. “Just kiss me.” It’s mumbled into and against your mouth, just like your responding nervous (but excited) giggle into and against his own, but it’s understood all the same, and you do.

You do kiss him again—and again—and again, until you manage to separate from him long enough to turn off the sink water—and again, as he hooks his index finger through one of the front belt loops on your jeans and pulls you in closer, his other hand squeezing your hip—and once more, before the sound of footsteps coming towards the kitchen finally forces you two apart.

Haechan’s cheeks are reddened, yours are blazing with heat, neither of you can stop smiling, and the room is filled with tension so palpable that Mijoo and Renjun look between the two of you in confusion, sharing a bewildered glance between themselves before placing their dishes in the sink and exiting the kitchen.

(And then you kiss him again.)

Late one night, you’re awake in bed, scrolling through social media apps mindlessly, when a text comes in on your phone.

haechan: are you awake

you: no

haechan: ha ha very funny

haechan: i’m bored

you: me too

haechan: keep me company :)

haechan: come over

you: no it’s 3am

haechan: so? come over

you: i’m cozy i’m not moving

haechan: stubborn ass

you: :( mean

haechan: don’t worry i actually love your ass

you: :O that’s not very platonic of you

haechan: come over and i’ll show you just how not-platonic i can get

you: i’m not moving

haechan: UGH

you: :p sorry !! i have snacks in here i’m never leaving

haechan: …what kinds of snacks

You have a feeling you know where this is heading, so you muster the energy to get out of bed and head to your front door, unlocking it and heading back to your room.

you: come over and find out

haechan: gimme a sec

There’s radio silence for several minutes, then you hear a knock on the front door.

you: it’s unlocked :)

Despite the preparation you took for his arrival, you decide to get up and meet him, heading down the hall to see him shutting the door behind himself, locking the door and kicking off his slides.

“Hi,” you say with a smile, and he frowns at you in disapproval, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the door. “What?”

“You know how risky it is to leave your door unlocked?” Haechan asks as you get closer to him.

“It was unlocked for a total of fifteen minutes, max.” You roll your eyes, letting out a chuckle.

“So? That’s more than enough time.”

“Time for what, exactly?”

“Enough time for someone to sneak in here and,” Haechan focuses on your lips, staring at them as he continues in a softer, more suggestive voice, “have their way with you.”

You smile, amused, and make a show of looking all around. Leaning in, you whisper, “Haechan, you’re the only one here; are you planning to have your way with me?”

Haechan grins mischievously. “That’s a secret.” When you gasp and push his shoulder, he laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m kidding!”

“Sure,” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. “C’mon, it’s cold in here and the heat’s on in my room.” He follows you into the kitchen, cheering silently when you grab the produce bag of mandarins and head to your room. Kicking off your slippers, you climb onto your bed, Haechan following suit, and sit cross-legged, placing the bag of mandarins in front of you.

Haechan sits in front of you as you reach for a mandarin, peeling it with ease and separating a piece, offering it to Haechan. He takes it readily, chewing contently as he peels a mandarin of his own, offering you a piece of his.

You’re not entirely sure why you two are swapping pieces as opposed to just eating your respective mandarins, but you figure there’s something tender about sharing the fruit with each other.

“What was keeping you up tonight?” you ask curiously, offering him another piece.

“Hm?” He looks up at you, handing you the mandarin piece he just separated.

“Your FOMO,” you remind him, and he grins as he thinks back to your first real conversation on the night you got locked out. “What did you not wanna miss out on tonight?”

“Talking to you,” he coos flirtatiously, and you roll your eyes and scoff in amusement.

“Sure.”

“I’m serious!”

“You didn’t even know I was up!”

“That was the point of texting you. If you hadn’t answered, I would’ve just gone to bed.” he counters, and your cheeks warm at how endearing it is that he was waiting to talk to you.

“Cute.” you mumble, and he raises his eyebrows in surprise, grinning and leaning closer to you. You groan with a laugh, and stuff your last piece of mandarin in his mouth. “Shut up.”

“Hey!”

“No talking with your mouth full,” you point out, and he narrows his eyes at you playfully before chewing it and focusing on pulling the last bits of pith off of his last piece of mandarin.

“Open,” Haechan murmurs, bringing the piece to your mouth. You give him a funny look, but he nods in confirmation and wiggles the piece, dropping it in his haste but managing to catch it before it lands. His index finger’s half punctured it, juice from the section dripping down his finger to the knuckle, and he frowns (very cutely, you might add) and moves to put it in his mouth instead.

You don’t know what possesses you. Maybe the universe’s pushing you to finally do something about all the tension that’s built up between you two. Whatever it is, you suppose you owe it a thank you.

You catch his hand halfway to his mouth and steer it towards yours instead. He raises an eyebrow, looking from his hand to you curiously, and you swallow thickly.

The bead of juice drips down ever so slightly, as if reminding you to make your move, and so you do. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you take the mandarin piece into your mouth, pushing it to the inside of your cheek, and lick the droplet off of his finger, halting when your tongue reaches his fingertip and looking at him for a sign of something, anything.

His eyes have a wild glint to them and he looks up from your mouth to your eyes, raising both eyebrows this time in a silent challenge.

You suck his finger into your mouth, and he groans under his breath, shifting closer to you as he watches his finger disappear between your lips.

The look in his eyes—like he’s about to lunge at you, frankly—and his slightly parted lips work together to wipe your mind blank, your eyes glazing over as you suck on his finger. Meeting his gaze with heavy-lidded eyes, you swirl your tongue around the digit and he hisses, leaning in so closely your noses are almost touching.

His attention shifts between your mouth and your eyes rapidly, slowly wetting his bottom lip and tucking it between his teeth. Experimentally, he pulls his finger back slightly and you truly don’t know what comes over you but you whine, sucking slightly harder.

He pulls his finger out of your mouth and raises his eyebrows at your disappointed, slightly dazed expression. He shifts back slightly, as if remembering the situation you two are in, and you take the opportunity to chew and swallow the piece of mandarin stuffed in your cheek.

“Don’t give me that look.” His voice is low and dangerously soft, the warning more than prevalent.

“What look?” It’s a struggle to say it without sounding breathy or whiny, but you manage, mentally patting yourself on the back.

“Don’t play dumb,” he warns you, “you know exactly what you’re doing.”

You don’t, actually. You kind of wish you did. Maybe you’d have a better idea of what he’s thinking.

Haechan looks down to the side, staring at your comforter hosting the mandarin rinds, and starts to speak. “You know, I don’t wanna ruin our friendship, but I keep thinking about our kiss the other week.”

You don’t blame him; it’s shifted your relationship subtly but noticeably and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t frequently occupying your mind. Ever since that evening and the kisses you two shared, you couldn’t stop thinking about how he held you, his taste, his smell, the almost desperate way your lips kept connecting, the way his smile felt against your mouth—

“Ruin it.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but he hears you all the same, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he stares at your lips. He leans closer, moving his body towards yours as he brings himself within kissing distance, and a tremble of excitement travels down your spine as you do the same.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” Haechan confesses in a hushed murmur, and you nod encouragingly, reaching up and tentatively placing your hand on the side of his neck.

“Do it.”

And he does. Surging forward, he connects your lips in a feverish kiss—he tastes faintly of mandarin on his tongue, sweet and bright and tangy all in one and you whine into his mouth as he leans over you, pressing your back into your mattress.

His lips move with yours desperately, his hands clutching at your sides and pulling you against him, his hips pushing yours into the mattress as he sucks on your bottom lip and groans sinfully. Your fingers curl in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to you and parting your legs for him to settle between them.

He takes the invitation immediately, resting between your legs as his kisses grow needier and deeper, his tongue flicking against yours before he parts from you, propping himself up on his hands as he breathes heavily, looking down at you with that wild-eyed gaze from earlier.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your free hand gripping the front of his shirt as you try to pull him back down to you.

Shaking his head, he swallows thickly and says, “I think that if we keep going,” his tongue swiping over his lips, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“Who said I want you to stop?” You tilt your head to the side curiously, and he pauses, looking at you with a brow raised questioningly. He scans your face, you shooting him an expectant look and tugging on his shirt impatiently, before inhaling sharply and leaning back down to kiss you again.

“You are so—” he mumbles distractedly, kissing you fervently and nipping at your lip gently.

“So?” you press curiously, gasping when his lips trail down from yours to your jaw to your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin.

“Dangerous,” he finishes, muffled from his ministrations on your neck, one hand squeezing your hip and gliding it up and down your side comfortingly. “Can we take this off?” he tugs at the hem of your sleep shirt, looking up at you hopefully.

“Yeah,” you agree, and he grins, pushing the shirt up past your chest. You sit up slightly so you can pull it off your torso, laughing when Haechan’s expectant smiling face reappears after the shirt’s done blocking your view.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Haechan,” you laugh, pulling him back to you with one hand as your other tosses your shirt off the bed.

“Have I ever told you that I love when you say my name?” Haechan’s lips resume kissing down your neck, sucking at a spot just above your collarbones.

“No,” you breathe, your inhale catching in your throat when his lips kiss lower to your chest, his hands pushing your breasts together and covering the exposed flesh in kisses. His tongue gliding in your cleavage, he sucks at a spot just above your bra, one hand slipping under you to unclip it.

“Love it so much,” he groans, pulling your bra off hurriedly and discarding it before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it and swirling his tongue around it slowly.

“Feels so good, Haechan,” you sigh happily, running your fingers through his hair as he sucks on the stiffened bud, one hand kneading your breast as he teases your nipple with his tongue.

He pulls back from you slightly, using the tip of his tongue to flick at your nipple, his hand leaving your breast and snaking down your stomach to slip into your shorts. When his fingers graze your clit over your underwear, you whine lowly and rock your hips up into his hand.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” Haechan mumbles around your breast with a grin, his middle and ring fingers tracing around your clit teasingly.

“Yeah,” you half-exhale, half-whimper, attempting to angle your hips just right so his fingers press against the sensitive button. He chuckles at your efforts and complies, pressing against your clit and rubbing circles into it.

The room is filled with the sounds of your labored breathing and small moans, as well as the wet noises of Haechan sucking on your nipples, switching between breasts by kissing along your chest.

Growing impatient, Haechan pushes his hand into your underwear, the palm of his hand pressing against your clit as two fingers tease your entrance. When you whine plaintively, he obliges, pushing the two digits into you slowly.

Your hips lift up off of the bed and push down towards his fingers, somehow both avoiding and leaning into his touch, and he tsks quietly in disapproval, guiding your hips back down onto the bed as his fingers keep pushing in until they’re buried inside of you.

“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, leaning up to kiss you deeply, his fingers curling as he pumps them in and out and gradually builds up a rhythm that has your breath coming in short gasps. “Feel so good around my fingers, baby.” Haechan coos sweetly, tongue trailing along your lip.

“Haechan, faster,” you urge, walls tightening around his fingers and making him hiss. “Go faster—”

“Like this?” he teases lightly, taking your bottom lip between his teeth gently and tugging it as his fingers speed up, fingers curling into a spot along your inner walls that makes you cry out weakly, clutching his arm to brace yourself. “Yeah, like that,” he mutters more so to himself, grinning and releasing your lip in favor of kissing your neck.

His fingers are skilled and controlled, but his kisses are nothing short of a frenzy, his mouth seeming to attempt to cover as much ground as possible and coax you over the edge. It’s working, frankly, as your peak approaches and you grind down on his palm pressed against your clit, the added sensation dizzying.

“So close,” you moan, biting your lip to muffle the noises you desperately want to let out, and Haechan nips sharply at your neck, making you wince and pull back to look at him.

“Wanna hear you,” he murmurs.

“But—my roommates—”

“I don’t care.” He grins at you mischievously, his pace speeding up and making wet noises sound out from where his fingers disappear into you.

“Haechan—oh, shit,” you shudder as your climax hits, whining his name loudly as pleasure floods through your body, ebbing and flowing like tidal waves. Your nails digging into his arm, he winces slightly but keeps finger-fucking you until you’re pushing his arm away in a desperate attempt to protect your sensitive clit. “Too much!”

“Aw, c’mon, you can give me another one,” he taunts, and you shake your head, wrapping your legs around him and pushing your hips up.

“If I’m cumming again,” you say slowly, making sure he hears you clearly, “it’s gonna be with you inside of me.”

He hesitates, eyes widening almost imperceptibly, and gapes at you.

“You’re serious?”

“I’m serious.”

“God, you’re unreal.” he mumbles in awe, hurriedly kicking off his sweats. He curses when they get tangled by his ankles and you giggle, cupping his face to get his attention.

When his eyes are on yours, you smile reassuringly. “I’m right here,” you remind him. “I’m not gonna change my mind.”

“You’re not?” he asks, and you scoff in amusement, shaking your head.

“Not even if you take more than three seconds to take your pants off.”

He chuckles and nods, tugging them off and tossing them off of the side of the bed. “Your turn,” he says, staring pointedly at your shorts.

You lift your hips up and shimmy out of the shorts, chucking them in the same general direction Haechan threw his pants in. He doesn’t even let you pull off your underwear, shaking his head at you and instead pushing his boxers down to the middle of his thighs, his length slapping up against his stomach.

“Stop staring at my dick like that,” he mumbles shyly, and you shake your head slightly to snap yourself out of your daze. “I feel…scrutinized.”

“I’m appreciating it,” you assure him, and the unmistakable proud puffing of his chest makes you smile.

“Yeah?” he muses, leaning over you and guiding himself to your entrance, pushing your underwear to the side. You almost prefer this way, you think, something about the desperation laden in having sex with your clothes just barely shoved out of the way.

“Yeah,” you whisper, excitement creeping into your voice as he glides the shaft between your slick folds, collecting your arousal.

“Let’s see if you appreciate it more like this,” he breathes, pushing into you slowly, and your back arches as you inhale loudly. “Good?”

“So good,” you mumble, nodding encouragingly, and he licks his lips before bottoming out and groaning in pleasure. “Feels so full,” you say, and he nods, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“You’re so tight,” he grunts, pulling out slowly before pushing back into you quickly, eyes brightening at the moan you let out. He repeats the action, slowly moving inside of you and speeding up his thrusts until he’s built a rhythm that has little moans and whimpers spilling from you every time he bottoms out.

“God, yes,” you cry out, clutching his arm that’s propping him up by your head and turning your face towards it, biting down on his wrist to silence yourself.

“I wanna hear you,” he reminds you, shaking his hand until you release his wrist. “Every little sound you make—I want it.”

“Haechan,” you whine, and he growls softly in determination.

“That’s it, baby, just like that.” he encourages you, driving his hips into you in quick, powerful strokes.

You cup your breast with one hand, rolling your nipple between your fingers, and bring the other to your clit, rubbing it in quick circles that make your abdomen clench.

“God, that’s so hot,” Haechan mutters in awe, greedy eyes roving over your body admiringly as you pleasure yourself. “Want you to cum,” he urges, and you nod, your breath hitching.

“I’m close,” you confirm, and he hikes your leg up, resting it on his hip and angling himself towards it so his thrusts hit that spot along your walls that makes you see stars. “Yes, right there—”

“Right here?” His playful lilt drips confidence and only arouses you more, desire burning fiercely through you, an inferno blazing in your veins.

“Yeah,” you pant, whinier than ever as your desperation builds. “Right—fuck—” you hiss, your climax rushing to meet you and overpowering your senses. Your eyelids flutter shut and your mouth falls open, shaky breaths and broken moans of his name escaping you as his length pistons in and out of you quickly. Haechan doesn’t stop, keeping the same pace and power as your body stiffens before ultimately going limp.

“Good?” He rouses you from your daze, and you open your eyes to shoot him a dopey smile.

“Yeah,” you sigh blissfully, and he grins before leaning down so you’re nose to nose.

“My turn.” He thrusts into you even faster, the rhythmic sounds of your bodies meeting filling the room as you move to cover your mouth as hurried, frantic, and uncontrollable noises of pleasure leave you. “Look at you,” he coos, his words punctuated with each thrust. “Couldn’t be quiet even if you tried.”

“Hae—chan—” you stutter out, and he chuckles, bringing his lips to your ear.

“Music to my fucking ears.” His thrusts slow down as he groans with pleasure, his length throbbing inside of you as his pattern shifts to slower, more powerful snaps of his hips into yours. “Gonna cum—where do you—fuck—want it?”

“Inside,” you stammer, and he pulls back from your ear to look at you with unbridled excitement. “Cum inside.”

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me—” He climaxes without another word, biting down on your neck as he releases into you. His breath is hot against your flesh, moistening the skin as he digs his teeth into you and makes you whine in complaint, only releasing you in favor of sucking at the now sore spot.

His thrusts finally come to a stop, Haechan burying himself in you to the hilt as your walls clench around him, milking his orgasm for all it’s worth. Neither of you move for a while, just remaining in the moment with each other, before Haechan slowly pulls out of you and moves to lie on his back beside you.

Your walls clench around nothing, your face contorting in discomfort when a mix of your releases feels like it’s leaking out of you.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur softly, and he looks over at you worriedly, the concern fading when you shoot him a warm, reassuring smile. You squeeze his hand comfortingly and climb off of the bed, readjusting your underwear and pulling your shorts back on. You shuffle to the bathroom awkwardly, cleaning yourself up and washing your hands before returning to your room.

“Hey!” you complain when you return, looking at Haechan under your covers.

He looks at you in surprise, slightly worried. “Was I supposed to be leaving?”

“What? No—you’re laying on my side.” you explain, pointing at your pillow, and his shoulders slump in relief as he rolls his eyes slightly and shifts over to the other pillow.

“God, I thought you were having, like, post-nut clarity or something and wanted me to leave, never to be seen again.” he rambles, and you stop mid-stride, looking at him with your eyebrows raised in amusement.

“You’re ridiculous.” You continue your path to your bed, climbing under the covers and putting the bag of mandarins on your nightstand. “The only post-nut clarity realization I’m having is that I am sleepy.”

“Me too,” he sighs. “Be right back,” he says, climbing out of the bed and scooping up the mandarin rinds, tossing them in your garbage on his way out of the room. You curl up on your side as you wait for him to get back, smiling softly to yourself as you recall the events that just transpired.

Your light turns off, shrouding your room in darkness save for where the moonlight delicately peeks through your windows, and Haechan clambers back into the bed, lying behind you stiffly before muttering, “Fuck it,” and draping an arm over your stomach, snuggling up to you.

“Good night, Haechan,” you murmur softly, and he hums contently, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck.

“Good night.”

Waking up doesn’t quite go the way you usually expect.

Before you can even open your eyes, you feel an arm draped over your midsection and hear something—or someone—stirring slightly beside you.

In your just-woken-up foggy mindset, you try to recall what in the fresh hell is going on, only to be jolted out of your focus by the realization that you can quite literally feel the person beside you staring at you.

Peeking won’t do any good given that they’re literally looking dead at you, so you keep working on pushing away the grogginess clouding your sensibilities.

“I can tell you’re awake, y’know.”

Ah. Well, that solves that.

Opening one eye, you peek at Haechan, who’s watching you in fond amusement with his head propped up on his hand, elbow just beneath the pillow his head was just resting on.

“Good morning.” He sounds teasing, the greeting pointed as you realize you haven’t yet said anything.

“Morning,” you croak, and he chuckles, settling back down so he’s lying beside you.

You move to sit up and he whines immediately, pulling you back down none too gently.

“Don’t get up yet,” he murmurs, and you furrow your brows.

“Why not?”

“Give me a second and I’ll think of a really good reason.”

You let out an amused snort and comply, lying back down. You shift slightly so you’re fully on your back and Haechan takes the opportunity to move closer to you, letting out a soft content sigh as he rests his head on your shoulder. “You’re awfully cuddly.”

“I’m always cuddly,” Haechan counters, and you nod slowly.

“You’ve got a point,” you agree.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, instead starting to shift away from you as he says, “I can stop if you want—”

“No!” you protest immediately, clutching onto his arm resting on you. “I like it.” He pauses and looks back at you with a relieved smile before settling back into place.

“Good.” His arm tightening around you, Haechan’s head ducks down, nuzzling into the space between your chin and shoulder where he exhales softly against your neck, chuckling when you squirm under him.

“Mm, you like that?” he murmurs, sucking his teeth when you shake your head. “Sure, you don’t.” You can practically hear him rolling his eyes and, as if to prove his point, he presses his mouth to your skin in a lazy kiss, lips parting to suck gently.

Your breath hitches and he snickers, repeating the action over and over again, lips kissing and sucking with no restraint, lewd grunts leaving him as he positions himself to get better access to you.

When his tongue peeks out to lick the dewy patch of skin he’s been sucking on, you accidentally let out a choked whimper and he hesitates before pulling back and looking at you.

Averting your gaze, you can’t help but look sheepish under his probing stare, that knowing grin you’re so familiar with growing on his face in your peripheral vision.

“Did you just moan?”

“That was not a moan!”

“So you admit you made a noise.” He looks smug at your inadvertent confession, and you grumble indistinctly under your breath. “It’s okay if I turn you on, you know.” Haechan says with a sympathetic pat to your hip, cackling when you push him away with an embarrassed huff.

“You suck,” you mutter, and he ducks his head to press an obnoxiously loud and sloppy kiss to your neck. Your squeal of disgust rings out along with his laughter as he shuffles further down on the bed, pressing languid kisses to your body as he goes. “Where are you going?” you giggle when you feel his fingers inching up the hem of your shirt and his breath exhaling on your navel. “Haechan!” you yelp in alarm as his tongue dips into your belly button, reaching down to swat his head away.

His fingers are hooking in your shorts and yanking them down your legs before you can even process the situation, the blanket lifting slightly for his hand to fling them off the bed.

He catches your hand by the wrist and presses it down on the bed by your hip, dotting kisses just above the waistband of your underwear as you wriggle under him uselessly.

“Remember that reason I was gonna give you to stay in bed?” he murmurs, the warmth of his breathing causing arousal to stir in your belly. “This is it.” He doesn’t say anything else, instead kissing your clit over your underwear with a low content hum. Your thighs reflexively move to close him out, but he pins them in place, palms flat against your inner thighs as he spreads them wider.

He presses another kiss to your clothed clit—and another, and another, until the room is filled with the sounds of his noisy kisses and your unsteady breathing. His kisses travel lower until he’s kissing at the very seat of your underwear, teasing over your entrance as his nose rubs against your clit.

Your breath catches in your throat when his tongue flattens against the seat of your underwear, no doubt tasting the arousal that’s begun to seep through the fabric. His almost ticklish ministrations have your insides fluttering with need and nerves, his moans only escalating the situation as they get lower and longer, croaky with desire.

He drags his tongue up your underwear from your entrance to your clit, swirling his tongue around the gentle imprint of the sensitive button and sucking on it until your thighs start to tremble.

“Haechan, please,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to remain steady at a louder volume. He hums questioningly, flicking over your clit with the tip of his tongue rapidly and pushing your hips back down when they buck into his face.

“Please, what?” You can’t see him due to his being under the covers, but you can imagine the smug little grin on his face right now.

“Please don’t stop,” you whine, and he hums—loudly and contently—before pressing another kiss to your clit.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” His fingers collect the fabric of your underwear just above your clit and tug it upwards, making you gasp in surprise. He tugs up harder until the thin fabric of the seat of your underwear scrunches together and slips between your lips, flesh spilling out onto either side of the damp, essentially useless garment.

Your moans escalate in pitch as he tugs the underwear up repeatedly, delivering pressure and friction to your clit that’s almost dizzying but just slightly not enough. His tongue drags up your now exposed lips, sucking them into his mouth and licking over them to coat them with his saliva, replacing the slick arousal leaking from your core.

“Haechan,” you whimper, truthfully unaware of what you want—you know you want more, and you know he’s going to give it to you, if not more for himself than for you, if his blissful sighing is anything to go by.

He doesn’t dignify you with a response, instead releasing your skin from his mouth and latching onto your inner thigh as he slowly kisses at the heated flesh, slowly pulling your underwear to the side to reveal your glistening core.

A sharp intake of breath sounds from under the covers, and before you can ask what’s happened, he groans and your clit is enveloped in his mouth as he sucks greedily at the bud.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, clutching at the bedsheets over where you know his head to be. The hand he’s been using to hold your wrist hostage slips down to link his fingers with yours in an intimate gesture that makes you glad he can’t see your unbelievably flustered face. “Fuck, just like that,” you urge quietly, and he responds by rolling his tongue over your clit, only releasing it to lap up the arousal coating your folds.

“Tastes so good,” he grunts, lips brushing against your throbbing clit as he speaks. “Such a pretty pussy, too, baby.”

Your only reply is a weak whimper as his tongue explores your core with an almost feral eagerness. He pauses, fingers slipping from yours as he uses both hands to yank your underwear as far down your legs as he can manage while still being between them, and resumes his fervent licking, digits linking with yours once more.

Tugging the hood of your clit back to expose more of the sensitive bud, he coos affectionately at the revealed button—an action that makes your cheeks burn from shyness—and flicks his tongue all over and around it before sucking it into his mouth and humming contently.

“You like that, yeah?” Haechan’s voice is throaty when he speaks, thick with desire as he practically slurs his words at you. “Like when I suck on your little clit like that?”

“Yeah,” you whine breathlessly, nodding vigorously even though he can’t see you. “Yeah, I like it—”

“Wanna feel my tongue in your pretty pussy, baby? Hm?” He’s practically taunting you, but you can’t even be bothered to care, your climax hovering just out of reach. “Wanna fuck yourself on my tongue?”

“Shut up, just please—” You don’t get to finish whatever thought you were going to vocalize, as Haechan’s tongue prodding at your entrance wipes your mind clear of any functionality. “Yes—more—need more—”

He licks all around your entrance first, loud and lewd noises of him lapping up your slick barely muffled by the barrier of the comforter, but finally obliges, pushing his pointed tongue into you as far as the pink muscle will allow.

The sigh of relief you let out is cathartic, the sound tapering off into an unmistakable moan as he urges your hips down towards his face. Taking the cue, you rock your hips into his face, movements jerky as his tongue glides in and out of you and renders you incapable of anything other than moaning and fucking onto him.

“Haechan, gonna—I’m gonna—” you moan, body shuddering with anticipation, and he just keeps guiding your hips against his face, not stopping even as your peak hits and your muscles stiffen reflexively, movements stuttering to a stop as you remain frozen, hips in the air and abdomen tightening. He smacks your ass lightly to get your attention and resumes your motions against his mouth, nose deliberately bumping against your highly sensitive clit. “Shit, Haechan, I’m done—”

Your weak attempts to wriggle away from him are only met with a forceful yanking of your body back into place and his tongue retracting from you in favor of licking at your clit. “I’m not,” Haechan mumbles determinedly, and the urgency in his voice makes you balk, your breath hitching again as he licks you to yet another climax.

When you come down from this high, your mind is fuzzy in the best of ways, your consciousness only distantly aware of Haechan emerging from under the covers and reassuming his position next to you with a pleased hum, pressing his spit and arousal slicked lips to your collarbone in a quick kiss.

“That was fun,” he coos, his nose brushing against your neck, and you chuckle weakly, nodding.

“It was more than fun.”

“Good. In that case,” Haechan muses, his arm tightening around you as he pulls you impossibly closer. He tangles his legs with yours, his knee pushing against your half-removed underwear, and continues, “I think I earned staying in bed with you for a bit longer, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you half-chuckle, half-exhale, and he grins, lips pressed against your neck.

“Good. Now go back to sleep,” he urges, and you’re about to attempt to oblige when a knock on your door jolts you both out of your daze. His eyes widening almost comically, he ducks his head back under the covers and you redistribute the comforter to look slightly less suspicious.

“Come in!” you call, and the door opens to reveal Mijoo leaning against your door frame. “Hey!”

“Good morning,” she greets you with a warm smile. “We’re ordering breakfast from the diner down the street; do you want anything?”

“Uh—the breakfast platter with waffles, please.” you answer, and she nods.

“Great. Hey, Haechan?” she calls, and you both stiffen before a sheepish Haechan pokes his head out from under the covers. “Do you want breakfast?”

“Yes, please,” he says eagerly, and you snort in amusement. “Can I have the breakfast platter with waffles, too?”

“You got it.” Mijoo raises two fingers to her head in a mock salute before moving to shut the door.

“Wait!” you whisper-shout after her, and she pauses, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly. “How did you know Haechan was here?”

“His shoes are by the front door,” she answers simply, and your body slackens with relief. “You moaning his name also helped.”

“…Sorry.” you mumble sheepishly, and she shrugs.

“You’re lucky we were already awake.”

“We weren’t that loud!” Your brows furrow as you look at her defensively, and she snickers, shaking her head.

“You’re right; I’m just messing with you.” she smiles teasingly, and you huff, frowning at her petulantly. “Okay, gonna go order now.”

A small “hmph” is all you have to say, and she shuts the door, leaving you and Haechan alone with each other once more.

Looking over at you curiously, Haechan grins before leaning up to kiss between your eyebrows where the skin is furrowed, then your nose, and finally your lips, his mouth lingering against yours.

“You’re cute when you pout.” he mumbles fondly, and your cheeks blaze something fierce as you fight down a bashful smile. He pulls back slightly, studying your face before connecting your mouths again, this time parting his lips and sneaking his tongue into your mouth. The taste of your arousal transfers from his tongue to yours and you can’t help but whine from how arousing it is to taste yourself on someone else. “Don’t tempt me.” he mutters against your lips, and you nod in understanding.

“Sorry.” you say softly, and he chuckles before pressing a light kiss to your lips again and pulling back.

“It’s okay. Now, we only have so much more nap time before the food gets here,” he reminds you, collapsing back onto the bed and pulling you into his embrace, “so we’d better make the most of it.”

“Haechan, we can’t sleep now,” you point out, “we have to at least wash up and get dressed or something.”

“But—” he whines, and you kiss him quickly to shut him up.

It works.

“We can do all that and then, if there’s still time, we can come and get back in bed,” you suggest, and he screws his face up in thought. “It’s not like you’re gonna wanna get back in bed once we get up, anyway.”

“I’ll take that challenge!” He releases you and rolls out of the bed, miscalculating slightly as he falls on the floor with a thud and an “oof!”

“It wasn’t a challenge,” you reply, trying (and failing) to hold back your laughter as you peer over the edge of your bed at a disgruntled Haechan lying spread-eagled on his back.

“Stop laughing,” he gripes, reaching a hand out to you. “Help me up?” he asks hopefully, and you take his hand to pull him up, yelping in shock when he tugs hard and pulls you out of the bed and on top of him. “Oof!”

“Genius.” you drawl, and his hands just link behind you on the small of your back.

“Now, who’s laughing?” he points out, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Still me. You broke my fall.” you say with a snicker, and he hesitates before huffing in mild frustration.

“Well, maybe I should get a reward for being so gentlemanly.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Like a kiss.”

“Given that you’re the reason I even had a fall to break,” you answer, patting his chest, “I’m gonna pass.” His face falls as he frowns up at you, and you roll your eyes, leaning down and pressing the quickest of kisses to his cheek before standing up and pulling your (highly uncomfortable, now cold and damp) underwear back up your legs to retain whatever dignity you have left.

“Aw, I only get a cheek kiss for breaking your fall?” he complains as you pull him to his feet, and you stare at him, unimpressed.

“You’re the reason I fell!”

“Excuses, excuses, excuses,” he grumbles, waving you off dismissively. “We live in a cruel and unjust world.”

“That we do,” you agree. “Now go put some pants on.”

“I think they gave you more food than me,” Haechan sulks, and you look at his container, then yours, then back at his.

“They definitely did.” you agree, grinning.

He narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t gloat.”

“But I love gloating,” you say with a frown. “It’s my third favorite thing to do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Haechan chuckles, looking over at you. “What’s the first?”

“Bragging.”

He snorts loudly. “Got it. Second?”

“Rubbing things in people’s faces.” You grin at him, and he raises one eyebrow. You suspect you’ve walked into a trap of some sort. “What?”

“I know something you could rub in my face.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and your eyes widen as you smack his arm and turn away from him to hide your incredibly flustered face. “I’m kidding!” You peek over your shoulder at him to see his hands raised in surrender and you cautiously turn back to face forward. “Unless…”

“Haechan, get out!” you shriek, the warmth returning to your face as you wave him away frantically.

“No can do, sorry.” He shrugs in your peripheral vision. “I wanna see how cute you look all flustered.”

“Stop teasing me,” you huff.

“But I love teasing,” Haechan says, nudging your side pointedly as he throws your words back in your face. “It’s my third favorite thing to do.”

“I’m not gonna ask what the first two are,” you mumble, turning back to face forward when the heat in your cheeks has dissipated somewhat and you feel less flustered.

“Aw, c’mon,” he whines, shaking your arm. “Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Nope.”

He takes a deep breath. “Please, please, please, please, please—”

“Oh, my God, fine!” you exclaim, lunging at him and clapping a hand over his mouth. “What are the first two things?” you ask, cautiously moving your hand. You move to sit back in your spot, but Haechan grabs your arm that’s propping you up above him, keeping you in place.

“Kissing you is second.” He looks up at you with bright eyes and you would scoff and disregard the comment if it didn’t seem so genuine, a bashful smile curling your lips.

“What’s first?” You blink down at him curiously.

“Hanging out with you.” He grins widely, and you open and close your mouth pointlessly, no words coming forth to rescue you from looking stupid. “Cute.” he coos, leaning up so you’re face to face. Studying your face carefully, his lips part slightly as he tilts his head to the side. Speaking softly, he asks, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Depends,” you answer, speaking just as softly. “Are you thinking about the fact that eggs don’t taste good cold?”

He gives you a disapproving look. “No, actually. Now I am.”

“Great,” you muse, pulling back and sitting in your spot once more. “Now eat so I can press play.” You gesture with your fork towards your laptop which is sitting just in front of you both, the screen paused on a scene from Chicken Little.

“I don’t know why we didn’t pick a Christmas movie to watch.” Haechan says with a small huff. “Where’s your holiday spirit?”

“We can watch a different movie,” you reply easily, gesturing towards the screen. “Just pick one.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” he mutters triumphantly under his breath, pulling the laptop to his lap.

“Don’t get syrup on my laptop!” you scold, plucking his fork from his hand and putting it in his container of food.

“Sorry, babe,” he mumbles distractedly, too focused on browsing for a good movie to notice the pet name that slipped out.

You, however, are unoccupied and therefore fully aware of it, your body freezing momentarily. Your face heats up for what feels like the millionth time and you partially forget that there’s food in your mouth, your jaw hanging slightly open as you sit in a stunned silence.

“Found one!” Haechan announces proudly, placing your laptop back on the bed and looking over at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You okay?”

“Yep!” you agree way too quickly.

His eyes narrow. “That was way too quick.”

Damn it. “I’m okay,” you assure him, and he scrutinizes you for a moment longer before seeming to let it go and returning his attention to his food. Desperate to change the subject, you look at the screen and nod in approval. “The Grinch—nice choice.”

“Thank you,” he replies, smiling with satisfaction as he presses the spacebar to play the movie. You two eat in silence for a moment as the beginning credits roll, Haechan for some reason waiting until the movie actually starts to speak. “Oh, speaking of holiday spirit—”

“You couldn’t say this before the movie started?” You look at him in disbelief, and he frowns (very cutely, once again) at you. “Sorry,” you mutter. “Continue.”

“Thank you,” he replies, the smile back on his face. “We’re having a holiday party on Christmas, and you’re invited.”

“Me?” You point at yourself, confused, and he shoots you a funny look.

“No, the ghost slightly to your left.” He replies sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, Haechan letting out a small laugh. “Yes, you.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, processing. “Can I bring Mijoo and Chuu?”

“Duh?” He shoots you another funny look. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am!” you defend yourself, a bit too loudly for your tastes this time. “I am,” you repeat, sounding more normal. “You only invited me, so I figured—”

“Well, you’re the only other person in this room.” He points out, and you nod slowly.

“Fair.”

“I mean, I do want you to come—like, specifically you.” Haechan clarifies, and you look over at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “It’s a good time to give you your present.”

“You got me a present?” you ask softly, surprised, and if he shoots you any more funny looks, you think you’ll throttle him. “I just didn’t expect it!”

“Why not?” He stares at you, confused. “You think I’d invite you to a Christmas party and not give you a Christmas present?”

“Good point, I guess.” you say mostly to yourself. “I can give you yours then, too.”

He clutches his chest dramatically, eyes sparkling with emotion. “You got me a present?”

You stare at him blankly, and he drops the act, looking at you pointedly.

“That’s how ridiculous you were just now.” He raises his eyebrows, and you gasp in disbelief.

“I didn’t moon over you, Haechan,” you defend yourself, and he shrugs.

“Maybe you should’ve. It would’ve been cute.” He grins at you, and you narrow your eyes. “Kidding!”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I am not.” Haechan confirms, shaking his head.

“Anyway,” you continue, side-eyeing him. “Will there be snacks?”

“Yep! The festive kind,” he says proudly. “Eggnog…gingerbread cookies…sugar cookies…”

“Peppermint bark?” you ask hopefully, and Haechan looks over at you with a small smile and a soft, fond look in his eyes.

“Why? Do you like peppermint bark?”

You suck your teeth, trying not to roll your eyes. “No, I actually can’t be within thirty yards of it for legal reasons—yes, I like peppermint bark!”

“Sassy pants.” he mutters under his breath. “If you like peppermint bark, then there will be peppermint bark.” He smiles at you, and you bounce twice in place from excitement.

“Yay! I’ll be there.” you assure him. “Do I have to get Jaemin and Renjun presents, too?”

“Nah, you don’t actually have to get anyone anything, actually. Just show up with good vibes.” He leans back against your headboard and smiles contently at you, unperturbed by your disapproving frown.

“Did you get Mijoo and Chuu anything?” you ask, and he shakes his head. “Mm, but I’m a guest…”

“And I’m a host, and I hereby absolve you of any gift-buying duties.” Haechan announces with an air of grandeur, waving his hand dramatically. You snort in amusement and he looks at you with a satisfied grin. “I got Renjun’s and Jaemin’s gifts already—gave myself a paper cut trying to wrap it.” He frowns, showing you his thumb with a red line running along the knuckle, and you wince.

“Poor Haechan.” You pout, and he nods, batting his lashes at you in a pronounced display of cuteness. “Wait right here.” You pat his knee and get off of the bed, heading to the bathroom and returning with a bandage.

“SpongeBob?” Haechan chuckles softly as you bring his hand onto your lap so you can apply the cartoon-themed bandage. “How old are you, again?”

“You can always leave,” you remind him in a warning tone, not looking up as you peel the backing strips off.

“I love SpongeBob, actually. Love that spongy guy.” Haechan says quickly, and you snicker quietly.

“Yeah, that’s more like it.” You wrap the bandage around his thumb and pat it gently for good measure, looking up at him. He’s staring at you with that unreadable look again, a soft smile on his lips, and you blink at him, confused. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says quietly, looking down at your handiwork. “I think it needs something.”

“We have ointment if you want it, I just figured you didn’t need it because it’s a paper cut—” Your words stop abruptly when Haechan brings his thumb up to your face, level with your mouth. “Can I help you?”

“Kiss it,” he presses, wiggling the appendage in front of your face. “To help it heal.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Your voice is flat but incredulous, and he frowns at you.

“So you can suck on my fingers,” he starts, your eyes widening in shock, “but you can’t give my thumb a teeny little kiss to make it better?”

You stare at him. He matches your gaze with a smug little challenge glinting in his eyes. You lean forward and press a small kiss over the bandage where the small wound is, and he smiles in satisfaction.

“Feels better already,” he coos teasingly, and you scoff, trying and failing to hide your amusement.

“Okay, I’m gonna reheat my food and you’re gonna rewind the movie because we missed the whole beginning.” You get off the bed and Haechan offers you his container with a hopeful smile that only widens when you roll your eyes and take it from him.

“You’re the best!” He shouts as you head out of your room.

“I know!” you call back casually, doing an excellent job at hiding how the compliment makes you more than a bit giddy inside.

The day of the Christmas party has finally come, and you’re filled with nerves for some reason.

In the past couple of days leading up to the party, you and your friends have been wrapped up in work shifts, the holiday season bringing in extra high customer volume. It normally wouldn’t be a big deal, but this means you haven’t really had time to hang out with anyone, least of all Haechan.

And you miss him. You miss him more than you thought possible, miss his smile, his laugh, the twinkle in his eyes when he teases you—

It hits you when you’re walking home from work the day of the party: you really like Haechan. Like—a lot.

You already knew you were into him because, well, you can’t even think about him without feeling the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. It’s the gravity of your feelings that startle you.

More than kissing him, you like holding his hands and listening as he tells you the story of his crooked pinky for the millionth time.

More than sleeping with him, you like hanging out with him; no responsibilities, no expectations, no pressure, and you always leave feeling better than when you met up with him.

It’s this realization that has you hopping in the shower and dressing up slightly nicer before gathering your gifts in a tote bag—well, the ones you can fit, at least.

You knock on their front door and nibble your bottom lip gently before stopping abruptly, not wanting to do away with all of your lip balm before you even set foot in the party.

“Hey, you made it!” Jaemin cheers when he opens the door, and you can’t help but laugh at his joy.

“Yeah! Traffic was crazy in the fifteen feet between our front doors, but I made it,” you joke, following Jaemin into the living room. “Oh, I have your present!” You root through your bag before gently procuring his gift and handing it to him with a smile.

His eyes widen and he coos fondly, reaching for it and cupping it in his hands. “I may be an adult in many forms of the word, but I have a soft spot for stuffed animals and this? This is just about the cutest stuffed animal I’ve ever seen.” He cradles the white bunny plushie like an infant, humming contently, and you blink in surprise.

“I’m glad you love it, don’t get me wrong,” you say slowly, “but you seem a lot more excited than I expected.”

“I may have had some eggnog,” he whispers conspiratorially, looking at your raised eyebrows and the unanswered question still written plainly on your face and continuing on to say, “I heard a rumor that it’s spiked.”

“Who started that?” you ask, confused, and Jaemin rubs the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly.

“Well, I did.” he answers. “Because I’m the one that spiked it.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding, patting his chest gently. “That’s nice, Jaemin. Have, um, you seen—”

“Haechan’s in the kitchen.” he answers with a knowing smile, clearly coherent enough to know where you were going with your sentence. Or maybe it’s just that obvious that you could only be looking for him.

“Great,” you exhale in relief, nodding once before heading towards the kitchen.

“I’ll give you your gift when it’s gift exchange time!” Jaemin calls after you, and your brows furrow.

“Would’ve been helpful to let me know there’s a gift exchange time.” You shake it off as you enter the kitchen and stop short as your eyes land on the person you were looking for.

Haechan’s back is facing you, hunched over as he fiddles with something you can’t see. There are a few other people in the kitchen, but they melt into the background as you clear your throat loudly, smiling when Haechan jolts in surprise before turning around to lock eyes with you.

You want to say that your heart didn’t skip a beat from seeing his face light up at the sight of you, but you’ve never been a very good liar. You offer a small wave in reply as he crosses the kitchen to get to you, barely having time to drop your arm before he’s pulling you into a tight hug.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Haechan pulls his head back slightly to grin at you. “I’m happy you made it.”

“Me too,” you say just loudly enough for him to hear, tucking your head back into the hug to hide the giddy smile overtaking your lips. Pulling away from the hug somewhat reluctantly, you take in his outfit and—“What are you wearing?”

Haechan looks down at his ugly—an understatement, really—Christmas sweater, obnoxiously vibrant and colorful with a gaudy reindeer on the front, stitched to be three-dimensional, and huffs petulantly. “I’m dressed for the festivities!”

“You look like the festivities threw up on your sweater.” you remark plainly, and he grumbles incoherently, wrinkling his nose in disapproval.

“Words hurt, you know.”

“You’re right,” you agree, raising your hands in surrender. “I am so sorry. How in the world shall I make it up to you?” Your robotic and wholly insincere delivery just makes Haechan narrow his eyes at you, a snicker escaping you as you avert your gaze.

“A kiss might help.” He raises an eyebrow expectantly, a smug twinkle in his eye.

“I don’t know,” you mumble as you think about it—your friends and these other perfect strangers have never seen you kiss before, and you don’t know what the implications of such a public display of affection could be, and—

“You don’t have much of a choice, actually,” Haechan replies proudly, jerking his head towards the ceiling when you look at him in confusion.

You follow his direction with your eyes and there, hanging neatly from the ceiling’s smoke detector, is mistletoe.

You roll your eyes, pursing your lips in an attempt to hide the fond and amused smile pulling at the corners of your mouth. You grip the front of his hideous sweater and pull him closer to you, pressing the quickest of pecks to his lips you think you’ve ever placed.

His eyes barely get a chance to close before they’re flying open in surprise and he opens his mouth to complain, but you hold a finger up to silence him.

“That was a kiss.” you point out.

“A tiny one.” Haechan counters with a displeased frown, but one look down at your fist still holding his sweater makes him smile softly, apparently unable to maintain his dissatisfied appearance.

“I still did it.” You shrug, releasing his sweater and smoothing down the yarn you bunched up by accident. There really isn’t much of any way you could have made the sweater look worse by wrinkling it, truly, but it’s the gesture that counts.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, eyes darting to something over your shoulder before they widen slightly and he looks back at you. “You’re just in time for the gift exchange, actually. Do you want something to eat or drink before we go into the living room?”

“Sure,” you agree, and he leads you to the counter he was standing at when you came in. Your face lights up at a familiar snack as you reach your hand into the bowl and pull out a small fistful of individually wrapped chocolate pieces. “You got the peppermint bark!”

“That I did.” He smiles widely, clearly proud of himself, and you wrap your arm around his waist, squeezing gently. “Oh, and tip? Don’t drink the eggnog.”

“Yeah, Jaemin said he spiked it.” you snicker, and Haechan sucks his teeth.

“I knew it tasted funny.”

The gift exchange goes about as smoothly as you’d expect. Chuu’s very appreciative of her reading pillow and bedside lamp, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she opens the gift from you, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that Chuu got you one of the books you always mention that you’ve never quite gotten around to reading.

(“Now you don’t have any excuses,” Chuu says, smiling, and you nod slowly.

“I bet I’ll think of some more.”)

You’re thrilled when Mijoo gives you your gift, a full gel nail kit, and her expression no doubt matches yours when you take her back to the apartment to reveal her brand new mini skincare fridge.

(“I know this is for face masks and ampoules and the like, but—” Mijoo starts.

“You’re gonna put some snacks in it, aren’t you?”

“I’m definitely gonna put some snacks in it.” She nods in agreement before you two laugh and head back to the party.)

“Hey,” Haechan calls softly from behind you, and you turn to face him, noticing in your peripheral vision that Mijoo and Chuu give each other a knowing look before disappearing into the party. “I wanna give you your present.”

“Yeah, me too.” you reply, feeling an anxious thrumming in your stomach out of nowhere. Will he like it? Does he even really want it?

“Over here,” Haechan says, taking your hand and leading you to a more secluded corner of the party where the holiday music somehow doesn’t quite seem to reach as well.

“Okay, how are we doing this?” you ask, reaching in your bag and pulling his gift out, holding it behind your back. “On three?” You brace yourself to reveal the gift only to panic and shake your head. “Never mind—I wanna go first.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, smiling at you with a delicate fondness you don’t often see from him.

“Okay, close your eyes and put your hand out.” you urge him, and he obliges, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he waits.

He looks so incredibly kissable right now, actually, you think. His lashes flutter delicately on his cheekbones and you can count each lovely little mole on his face without him making a teasing remark about how you’re mesmerized by him, and his lips look so soft and inviting—

“Hello?” Haechan laughs, and you blink out of your daze.

Right. Back on track. You swallow the lump in your throat and place his gift in his hand, clearing your throat nervously.

“You can open your eyes now.” You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet anxiously as he opens his eyes and looks down at his hand.

“No way,” he whispers, blinking down at the vinyl in his hand in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“I am not,” you chuckle nervously, and he looks up from the vinyl to you in awe.

“I thought you said the record store was sold out—” This is the softest you’ve ever heard him speak, you think, and it’s actually very endearing.

“I may have fibbed.” You shrug casually, and a surprised laugh escapes him as he turns the vinyl this way and that. “There was one left. I hid it so I could buy it for you, because I know you love Michael Jackson, and it’s limited edition and probably very cool for a Michael Jackson fan such as yourself to have—y’know—”

“You’re rambling, cutie.” Haechan cuts you off gently, amusement bright in his eyes as he watches you, and he definitely solved the problem of you talking too much, but the casual pet name has now rendered you mute. “Thank you so much,” he says sincerely, looking you in the eyes.

You manage to find the words to express yourself once more. “You really like it?”

“I fucking love it. I’m gonna display it in my room and brag about it whenever people come over.” He is most definitely not lying, you realize by the puff in his chest, and you bite back a giggle, feeling like a weight is lifted off of your shoulders.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” you sigh in relief.

“My turn.” Haechan announces, gently setting the vinyl down on an armchair nearby and bringing his other hand from behind his back to hand you a small rectangular box. “It’s wrapped, so you gotta unwrap it.”

“I do think I’m aware of how wrapped presents work, yeah.” You can’t help but tease him lightly, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Be nice, I’m nervous,” he whines, and you coo sympathetically as you gingerly open the wrapping paper.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous—” Your lightly teasing words stop short when you lift the lid of the small white box and see the contents. “Oh, my God.”

“It’s, uh,” Haechan rushes to explain, gesturing at the box, “I got it custom made with these little, uh, mandarin charms,” he points at the small orange charms on the bracelet, “because we always eat mandarins together, y’know? Like, it’s kind of our thing.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Haechan, I love it.”

You can hear his exhale of relief and his body goes slack, finally relaxing in your side view. “I was hoping you would.”

“Can you put it on me?” You feel like you can’t raise your voice past this murmur for fear that it’ll shatter the delicate and intimate moment you two have built with each other.

“Yeah,” Haechan says immediately, a smile audible in his voice. You hand him the box and he lifts the bracelet out of its velvety encasing, the dim but warm lighting of the living room catching the bracelet and making it glint beautifully.

“This must have been expensive,” you worry, and he shakes his head.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he assures you. “Now that vinyl must have been crazy pricey—”

“It wasn’t too bad with the employee discount,” you half-lie; if it wasn’t for your employee discount and some serious sweet-talking to your favorite manager, you probably would have been living off of leftovers for a week or two.

“Gimme your wrist,” he murmurs quietly, and you comply, offering him your arm and watching as his hands fasten the clasp around your wrist. It looks stunning on your skin and you honestly can’t imagine taking it off anytime soon. “It looks beautiful on you,” Haechan compliments, and you laugh softly, shyly.

“Thanks,” you mumble, and you’re now very aware that Haechan’s gaze has shifted from your wrist to studying your face, his intent stare sending nervous jitters throughout your body even as you avoid it. Slowly, you drag your gaze up from your linked hands to meet his eyes, and you’re all but floored by the intensity in his stare, his gaze somehow both unreadable and perfectly easy to comprehend.

It’s a myriad of emotions—fondness, desire, determination, passion—all packed into one heavy-lidded stare as he wets his bottom lip. His fingers loop around your wrist, just below the bracelet, and he tugs you closer gently, coaxing you into his embrace as his free arm wraps around your waist.

Gazing into your eyes, he smiles secretively before looking up at the ceiling pointedly. When you look up, you already have a feeling about what you’re going to find, letting out a small laugh of disbelief when you see yet another mistletoe dangling from the ceiling.

“Did you plan this?” When you look back at him, his eyes are trained on your mouth and he leans in closer to you, his nose nudging against yours as his smile softens.

“Of course I did.” His words are a soft murmur against your lips before he’s kissing you, and the way he does makes your head spin.

His arm tightens around your waist and his other hand holds your chin, gently tilting your head towards him so he can kiss you better. His lips move slowly against yours, leisurely yet still intense as he hums contently.

You feel like you’re kissing him for the first time by your sink all over again, excitement trickling through you like the soapy water dripped down your arms that first time and the chatter in the background—even the faint whoops you hear that most likely mean you’ve been spotted—fading into nothingness.

There’s no one around that matters but you and Haechan, and you could probably live in this moment forever.

He gently separates from the kiss, resting his forehead on yours as you both attempt to catch your breath.

“Haechan,” you murmur softly, “if you kiss me like that again, I’m gonna think you’re in love with me.” Your attempt to lighten the mood to steady your pounding heart goes unanswered, Haechan surprisingly silent. You look up at him curiously to see, with a jolt of surprise, that he’s already looking at you, his expression unreadable yet immediately comprehensible like earlier, but there’s a fire to it, a burning insistence that makes you swallow thickly. “Don’t joke like that.”

He regards you with a raised brow. “Who says I’m joking?” At your skeptical silence, he scoffs in amusement, squeezing your waist gently. “You have to know I’m, like, crazy about you by now.”

You gape at him. “Really?”

He gapes right back at you. “Yes!” he answers exasperatedly. “I went to Etsy for you,” Haechan sounds incredulous, continuing on even as you start to laugh, “I don’t think you know how confusing it was to order a charm bracelet with mandarin oranges on it? The shop people probably thought it was ridiculous.”

“No,” you console him immediately, draping your arms around his neck. “They probably thought it was very thoughtful, romantic, and sweet. Just like me.”

He looks up at you, hope in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Plus, it could be worse—you could have done all that just to get rejected or something.”

“So, I’m definitely not getting rejected right now, right?” He’s only half-joking, making you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“No, I’m definitely not rejecting you. Maybe I’m kinda crazy about you, too.” you admit with a small smile, and his face lights up, his smile one of the most radiant you’ve seen from him since meeting him. He studies your face, taking it in like it’s the last time he’ll ever see it, and you can practically feel the question on the tip of his tongue. “What is it?”

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he asks, smiling like he knows something you don’t.

You nod slowly, offering him a wry smile as you say, “I’m in; we can have a night out on the town or something.”

“Yeah?” He sounds slightly surprised but thrilled nonetheless, and you nod, your smile widening.

“Yeah. Renjun gave me a $50 gift card to Home Depot, so I’m thinking things might get a little crazy.” you deadpan, and Haechan snorts loudly in amusement, his eyes widening like he didn’t expect to do it.

“Home Depot?” Bless his heart, Haechan does make an attempt to hide his amusement, but he gives up and bursts out laughing. “Why would he—”

“I don’t know.” You hold your hands up in surrender. “I gave him art supplies, nice and thoughtful, and he gave me a gift card to a store I’ve never even set foot in.”

“Y’know, there’s actually something kind of sexy about Home Depot.” Haechan hums, swaying the two of you from side to side. “Maybe it’s the smell of brand new appliances and stuff.”

“I can’t say I know what appliances smell like off the top of my head.” you say thoughtfully, and Haechan nods.

“Yeah, neither can I; I just said that to make you feel better.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” you coo sarcastically, pinching his cheek.

He swats your hand away with a laugh before saying, “Speaking of sweet—I just remembered to tell you that Jaemin loves his present.”

“Really? I mean, I kinda figured, what with the way he fawned over it when I gave it to him, but I’m glad to know he really likes it.”

“Yeah, I saw him clutching it as he threw up in the toilet.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What a lovely mental image.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles.

“Y’know, I really didn’t have much confidence in my gift-giving skills, but then I met Jaemin and Renjun. So, like, at least I know there’s worse out there.”

“What did Jaemin get you?” he laughs, his arms tightening around your waist.

You stare at him blankly. “A cookbook.”

Haechan’s confusion is palpable. “You don’t even cook like that—”

“I don’t even cook like that!” you agree emphatically, and he snickers.

“That’s awfully domestic of them, honestly.”

“Isn’t it? Are they hinting that I should start settling down or something?”

“Maybe they’re hinting that you’re wife material.”

“I’m pending “wife material” status; I need to learn to cook and navigate Home Depot, apparently.”

“Speaking of Home Depot,” Haechan pipes up, giving you a lingering kiss. “If we go to Home Depot, we can make out in the gardening aisle.”

You pull back just in time to snort in amusement. “How very romantic.”

“Listen, I’m trying to work with what we’ve got,” Haechan defends himself, and you roll your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you scratch gently at his scalp on the back of his neck.

“We could listen to your new vinyl in your room and make out in there,” you suggest, and he brightens up, nodding eagerly.

“What a good idea,” he agrees, tucking your head against him to hug you properly.

After a moment, you shift uncomfortably. “Haechan, is that your phone in your pocket or did all that Home Depot talk get you worked up?”

“What are you talking about?” His voice is muffled against your neck as he speaks, but you can hear his confusion regardless. “My phone is in my back pocket.”

“Haechan, don’t tell me you’re seriously chubbed up right now in the middle of this Christmas party.”

“First of all: please never say ‘chubbed up’ again.”

“Agreed.”

“Thank you,” Haechan sighs in relief. “Second of all, that’s my remote.”

It’s your turn to be confused, apparently. “Remote to what?”

Releasing you from his embrace, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves a simple remote, pressing it, and you watch as his sweater starts to flash bright lights.

You’re silent for a moment. “I didn’t think it could get any worse.”

“Aw, come on!”

“No, I’m serious—it looks like the festivities threw up on you and now, apparently, they had some string lights in there too.”

Haechan pouts deeply. “Ah, you are so mean, seriously.”

“If we’re making out at all tonight, that hideous sweater comes off.” You point accusingly at the offensive garment, glaring at the wonky-eyed reindeer.

“No way.” Haechan disagrees immediately. “The reindeer sweater stays on during sex.”

“I will never sleep with you again.”

“On second thought, we could burn it. Burning it sounds good.”

“Baby, show me that last dance again,” Haechan urges you, jerking his chin at the open space of the living room you’ve been using as a makeshift dance floor.

You spring up from the couch, using a hand on his leg to brace yourself, and make your way to the middle of the room, taking a moment to recall the dance steps.

“It��s like this.” You hum a tune to yourself as you mime holding someone’s hand and their shoulder, swinging your hips as you move sideways, lifting your knee at the end before repeating the actions in the other direction. You look up at Haechan as you dance, immediately averting your gaze when you meet his eyes and take in his intense stare.

“And that’s the bachata?” he asks, raising his eyebrows curiously when you two lock eyes. You nod, and so does he. “You look good doing it.” He smiles and pushes off of the couch, taking the place of your invisible dance partner. Placing your hand on his shoulder, he rests his on your waist, lacing your fingers with his own and tugging you closer. “Dance with me now.”

“You got it?” you ask in surprise, and he nods.

“Quick learner.” he explains, smiling. He’s not wrong, you realize as you hum your little song and lead him into the dance. He moves smoothly and attractively, his steps confident but not too serious.

“You’re good,” you murmur in surprise, and he chuckles.

“I have a good teacher.” When you’ve completed two sequences from one side to the other, he twirls you, laughing when you yelp in surprise and clutch onto him tightly. “You’re not gonna fall, baby.”

“I know,” you murmur, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I trust you.”

“You trust me?” Haechan’s voice is soft, his fingers just as gentle as his tone as they stroke at your back, and you nod, knowing he can feel it as opposed to see it. “Then close your eyes.”

You move back so he can see when you comply, and he grips you a bit tighter, turning you to the side and dipping you, his laugh ringing out with yours as you burst into tickled giggles.

“See? I trust you.” You still don’t open your eyes as you speak, the inaction triggering a jolt of surprise when his nose brushes against yours.

His lips connect with yours soon after, nudging them apart to kiss you sweetly. He stands you both upright once more and wraps his arm around your waist, drawing you in closer with a hum and tugging gently on your bottom lip.

He peppers kisses down to your neck where they slow down, growing languid and needy as he latches onto various spots of your neck and sucks gently.

“That tickles,” you giggle, squirming away, but he just locks his arm around you, holding you firmly in place as he continues to attack your neck. “Haechan,” you whine pleadingly, and he groans against your skin.

“Mm, yeah, love when you say my name like that.” He nips at your flesh, lapping his tongue over the sore spot in a wordless apology.

“Haechan!” You attempt to scold him, but the pleasure gets to you, his name coming out even needier than before.

“Just like that, baby.” he grunts, sucking harder at a spot near the base of your neck that, despite your conscious desires, has you tipping your head back to allow him better access. “See? You love it.” His free hand trails down your backside, hiking up your shirt to grab your ass, clad only in black lacy underwear.

You’ve essentially given up on getting him to stop, finally succumbing to your desires and pushing your hips into his. He chuckles, the sound low in his throat and undeniably smug, and backs towards the couch, releasing you and plopping down on the seat.

He pats his lap with an inviting wiggle of his brows, his grin widening when you take the invitation and sit sideways on his lap, leaning your side against his chest.

“Where was I?” he murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and making a determined path to your neck. You wiggle away at the last minute and press your lips to his before he can inevitably protest. His complaining whine abruptly changes to a pleased humming sound as he kisses you over and over (and over) again, alternating between quick, soft kisses and lingering, needier ones.

His hand slides up your thigh purposefully, moving between your legs and hiking up the hem of the shirt you’re wearing. He grins against your lips when you part your legs slightly, allowing him to stroke along your inner thighs.

“Your skin feels so soft,” he murmurs against your lips, “and your kisses taste so sweet—I’m in heaven.”

“You’re so dramatic.” you snicker, and he shakes his head, parting from the kiss to look at you with bright, earnest eyes.

“I’m serious,” he promises, his gaze dropping to where his hand disappears between your legs. “I could stay like this forever.”

“Well, unfortunately,” you murmur, tugging gently at the locks on the nape of his neck and smiling when he groans, “I can only keep Mijoo and Chuu away from the apartment for so long.”

“What are we gonna do when they come back?” He frowns up at you, resting his chin on your breast.

He really needs to stop being so damn cute, you think.

“Well, we can just go in my room.” you offer, and he nods, lost in thought.

“Are they coming back soon? Should you,” he sighs deeply as if he already regrets the next words out of his mouth, “put some pants on?”

You can’t help but laugh at how resistant he is to the thought of you wearing more clothes before you stand up, moving back to the center of the room and twirling once.

“Mijoo and Chuu have already seen me like this, anyway,” you inform him, gesturing at your attire, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, beckoning you closer. When you’re within reach, he laces his fingers with yours and pulls you towards him until you’re landing clumsily on his lap once more with a yelp. “Well, aren’t they lucky?” He adjusts you so your knees are on the couch on either side of him, your hips hovering above his lap ever so slightly.

“I wouldn’t say lucky,” you chuckle, and he shakes his head, scrutinizing your face.

“Do they get to see you reaching for stuff in the cabinets with this on?” Haechan asks, his hands running up the backs of your thighs. “Hm? Do they get to see your shirt ride up and show off your cute little ass?”

You hesitate, slightly uncomfortable with the thought of flashing your friends and roommates. “If they have, I’m pretty sure—and kinda hoping, at this point—they’re not actually looking.”

“Do they get to see you bend over as you look in the fridge for something to snack on?” he continues, and you grimace, shaking your head.

“I don’t even do that—oh—” Your vehement protesting ends abruptly when he grabs your ass with both hands, using his grip to pull you forward until your chest is clumsily landing against his.

“No, they don’t get to see that, right?” he murmurs, looking up at you with desire pooled plainly in his eyes. “Only I get to see my girl like that.”

You could just about melt from the pet name. “Yeah,” you agree breathlessly.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum in a daze.

“Only me?” he presses, hands pushing your shirt up past your stomach and over your breasts, now exposing your matching lacy black lingerie.

“Only you,” you confirm, the needy whine creeping back into your voice. “Haechan, touch me.”

“My baby wants me to touch her?” he asks softly, teasing you with the promise of a kiss but not delivering. His breath is warm on your lips as he taunts you and he’s all but inhaling your plaintive cries for attention, his eyes growing more wild and intense the more you quietly plead for him.

“Please, Haechan?” To your embarrassment, your voice cracks slightly towards the end of the word, but it seems to trigger something in Haechan, who lets out a groan from deep in his chest before cupping the back of your neck and pulling you in for a heated kiss.

“Could never say no to my girl,” he coos against your lips, punctuating each word with a kiss deeper than the one preceding it. “Let’s take this off, baby.” His hand hurriedly yanks at the material of your shirt that’s bunched up above your breasts, and you break from the kiss to pull it off, barely having time to drop it on the couch before he’s hungrily kissing all over the exposed skin of your chest.

You already know what he’s going after next, so you beat him to the punch, unclipping your bra and letting the straps fall off your shoulders. Haechan lets out a loud groan of approval, his kisses barely hesitating before dipping lower until his tongue is rolling over and swirling around your nipple. His hands fly to cup both of your breasts as he alternates between sucking at both of your nipples, and you suck in a sharp breath when his fingers pinch at the hardened bud, tweaking it teasingly.

As he loses himself in your breasts, you can’t help but rock your hips down onto his lap, the thin fabric covering your clit doing virtually nothing to conceal the sensation of his cock pressing against your core through his sweats. You stutter out a gasp, and he chuckles mockingly, releasing your nipple with a wet pop and regarding you carefully.

“That feel good?” he asks, mimicking you when you nod. “Yeah? Feels good to fuck yourself against my cock?”

Your only response is a whimper and a rasp of his name that has his eyes blazing with lust.

“You wanna cum so bad, don’t you?” he taunts, and you cry out weakly, your head dropping down to rest your forehead against his. “Can you cum like this? Just like this?” His mocking tone softens slightly, and when you nod, he hisses, bucking his hips up to collide with your body, groaning, “I love seeing you like this—so fucking gorgeous like this—no one gets to see this but me—”

“Only you,” you moan desperately, willing to say just about anything if it means you get to cum.

“All mine,” he growls under his breath, tilting his head up to kiss you fiercely. “I’m all yours, and you’re all fucking mine, yeah?”

“Yes, baby—Haechan, I wanna cum so bad,” you gasp, and he nods, releasing your breasts and grabbing your hips, guiding your rocking motions until that delightfully familiar tightening feeling starts building in your abdomen. “Fuck, just like that,” you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders, his only protection the thin shirt he’s wearing.

“Kiss me when you cum,” he pants, and you oblige, leaning forward and connecting your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss. He’s positively frenzied, biting roughly at your bottom lip until you wince and sucking on your tongue, not relenting even when you attempt to retract it to moan his name.

Your poor tongue is trapped between his greedy lips as he sucks hard on it, only giving you a slight break when he swirls his tongue around yours with a lewd moan escaping him as saliva—you can’t really tell whose it is—drips down from your bottom lip onto your chest.

He’s all over you, dominating your mouth with his, your breasts with his hands, your core with his length, and your mind is so blank that you don’t even notice when one of his hands travels south to slip into your underwear, only catching on when his fingers press against your clit roughly.

“Oh, sh—” you gasp as he rubs the sensitive bud vigorously, heavy-handed touches sending you toppling over the edge. To your surprise, tears well up in your eyes, the pleasure almost too much to bear, and Haechan coos sweetly when they start to spill, pulling back from the intense lip lock to kiss up your tear tracks, capturing your lips with his own tear-smeared mouth, lips wet and salty as he moves them against yours.

“Up,” he croaks, tugging you up off of his lap slightly, and you oblige, lifting up off of him enough for him to shove his pants down to his knees and pull himself out of his boxers, rapidly fucking his fist as he stares at your underwear, the very last article of clothing covering your body. “Sit, baby.” he urges, guiding you down.

He gropes freely at your asscheeks with one hand as his other, wrapped around the base of his length, brings the thick head of his shaft to your entrance. You pull your underwear to the side to allow him entry, and he pushes up into you as you sit down onto him, both of you letting out groans of pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he moans, “sit on my fucking cock just like that.”

“So full,” you babble, gasping as he bottoms out, “so fucking full.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos comfortingly, “you can take it all, yeah?”

You don’t think you have much of a choice, but it’s not like you were planning on backing out, anyway.

In lieu of a response, you lift your hips and bring them back down onto him, Haechan winding his fingers in the locks at the nape of your neck and yanking so your head is forced back. You whimper loudly at the tug and moan louder when his tongue drags up from the top of your cleavage to your chin, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake.

“Obsessed with how you taste,” he grunts, barely parting from your neck as he sucks and nibbles at your skin and making loud and wet noises every time his lips release a patch of flesh. “Gonna eat your pretty pussy later, too—”

“Fuck,” you hiss, his words affecting you more than you expected. You position yourself slightly so you can bounce up and down on his length, your mind all but falling apart at the feeling of his thick shaft stretching you open.

He trails wet kisses back down to your chest, cupping your breasts and sucking on your nipples greedily, switching between the two like he can barely get enough. When he nips one of them a bit sharper than you’re prepared for, you cry out weakly, pushing at his head as a warning.

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this—” he grunts, thrusting upwards to meet your movements so you’re simultaneously fucking onto and into each other. “No one else gets to hear the pretty fuckin’ noises you make when I fuck you—no one gets to make you feel this good but me—”

“Just you, babe—” Your words are undoubtedly slurred from pleasure, but by the way Haechan’s thrusts speed up, you’re willing to bet he heard you. “Feels so good—wanna cum so bad—”

“Feels good?” Haechan echoes mindlessly, biting down on the flesh of your breast. “You love this, don’t you? Love me fucking you with my thick cock?”

“Love your cock so much—fuck, Haechan—I’m gonna—” You can barely get the words out before Haechan’s kissing you deeply, a filthy mess of teeth and tongue as his hips fuck up into yours.

“Cum all over me, baby, want you to make a mess all over me,” Haechan grunts, and you do. You climax loudly and powerfully, and Haechan’s thrusts continue the whole time, prolonging and heightening your pleasure until you’re shaking your head and squirming away from the hypersensitivity.

“Haechan, cum inside me,” you moan plaintively, still in a daze, and he nods distractedly, sloppily kissing every inch of your skin he can reach as he speeds up his thrusts and curses under his breath.

“Cumming—” He’s barely able to choke out the last syllable before he’s burying himself in you to the hilt, his breathing ragged as he finishes inside of you. You affectionately rake your fingers through his hair as he recovers, his forehead resting against your chest. When he’s collected himself, he catches your wrist and presses a kiss to your palm, looking up at you with a lazy smile.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, y’know that?” you mumble in amusement, and he grins mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Of course I do—and you love it,” he chuckles, and you roll your eyes slightly, shifting in his lap and cringing at how cool your chest feels. You look down and can’t help but widen your eyes at the state of your chest.

It’s, to put it lightly, covered in saliva, and you’re almost positive it’s entirely Haechan’s doing. When you look back up at him, you see him looking right where you just were, his lips parted slightly in what you assume is awe.

“You really do have quite a mouth,” you snort, pushing his jaw up so said mouth closes. “A messy, sloppy, dirty one.”

He looks up at you finally and you’re surprised to see that the look on his face wasn’t awe at his messiness but unbridled desire. He grins up at you smugly, making loud kissing noises.

“If I recall correctly, you weren’t complaining when my messy, sloppy, dirty mouth was all over you earlier,” he points out as he squishes you to his body, your breasts pressing against his face. He nuzzles into your cleavage, pressing a wet kiss to the skin, and you groan and push his head away with a laugh.

“Whatever,” you say, attempting to sound grouchy but ultimately failing as the smile on your face is too wide. “I need to shower.”

“Fine,” he sighs loudly, releasing you, and you stand up, making a face as his mostly softened length slips out of you. “On one condition.”

“It’s my shower, Haechan,” you point out. “What condition could you possibly have?”

“I get to join you.” He beams at you hopefully, nodding encouragingly in an attempt to convince you.

“I was already gonna say you’re coming with me,” you say, stooping to pick up your discarded clothing. “That way we’ll both be all cleaned up by the time Mijoo and Chuu come back.”

“Sounds good to me,” Haechan agrees, standing up and tucking himself back into his clothing. “Lead the way, baby.”

When you turn and head towards the bathroom, a quick smack to your ass makes you yelp before turning to glare at your cheekily grinning boyfriend.

“Haechan!”

“If I apologized, I’d be lying.” He shrugs nonchalantly, and you narrow your eyes at him before turning back around.

“You’re a menace.”

“You’re stuck with me,” he sing-songs, blowing you a loud kiss from behind. Thankfully, he can’t see the giddy smile on your face or feel the heat rising to your cheeks, so you just remain silent and think about how nice it is to be “stuck” with someone like Haechan.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you tease, turning to face him as you step into the bathroom and shut the door in his face.

“Hey!” Haechan exclaims, indignant as he jiggles the doorknob. “You’re in for it now, you know that, right? You can’t get rid of me that easily!”

“I know!” you call back, covering your mouth to stifle your laughter.

Frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

ta da !!! i hope you enjoyed :) happy new year!

#haechan smut #nct smut #lee haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut

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satorusugurugurl · 15 days

Text

Buzzed

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn’t drink. He’s a lightweight, never saw the appeal, and, well, it makes him horny.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader

Warnings: Whiny super whiny Gojo, handjob, public play, Gojo is just buzzed, not drunk consent is key, there are several reasons he doesn't like alcohol

Word Count: 2,307

A/N: this popped into my head at work. The need for Gojo to whimper and whine is intense.

Gojo didn't drink. He had nothing against people who liked to drink; by all means, to each their own. He never liked the taste; he was a lightweight, and he'd rather spend his money on sweets. There, however, was another reason he didn't drink. One that was far too embarrassing to mention.

Whenever Satoru would drink, he'd get horny, like super horny.

So, it was safer for him to avoid alcohol altogether, which was pretty easy. That was until you both went to one of your co-workers' birthday party. You casually conversed with some friends while Gojo headed into the kitchen. He was in search of cake, but he found punch instead. He filled his glass, tentatively giving it a sip.

It didn't taste like there was alcohol in it, so he drank a full red solo cup. And he was working on his third in the living room when he felt like his blood was on fire. The room was hot, sweltering, and you, god, you looked even hotter. The tight-fitted shirt you wore emphasized the curves of your perfect body and breasts. Your ass looked amazing in your jeans, and your smile was to die for. God, why did you look like a goddess tonight?

There was a certain glow about you that drew him in like a moth to a light. He hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder, his body pressed firmly against your backside. Not only did you look good, but you smelt fucking delectable.

You turned your head, kissing his cheek before turning back to your friends, joining in with their conversation, leaning back into Satoru when you both felt it. The huge and very hard bulge in his pants had you choking on your words as Satoru straightened, glancing at you in sheer panic.

“Toru?” He grimaced at the tone of your voice. “Please tell me that's your phone.”

“It’s not,” he confirmed your fear.

“Can you get outside to the balcony?” A glance over his shoulder confirmed no one was remotely close to his sanctuary.

“Yeah.” His voice was so gravely as his cock twitched in his pants.

“Good, go on. I'll be out in a sec.”

The second Gojo stepped into the cool night air, he groaned, looking down at his pants. What the fuck? Why was he sporting the world's biggest boner of all time? Fuck, he was so hard it hurt. He slowly sank into the dark corner, resting his back against the window where the curtain was still drawn, waiting for you to join him.

A second later, the sliding glass door opened and shut. Gojo’s hands flew towards his crotch, shielding his erection from any prying eyes. When he saw you turn the corner, he released the breath he'd been holding, dropping his hands to his sides. Satoru shut his eyes tight, biting back a pained whine. All you could do was knit your eyebrows together as you watched.

“Satoru? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Nngh, fuck, I don't know.” His cock throbbed hard at the sound of your voice. “I'm so goddamn hard.”

“Aren't you always hard?” The teasing tone in your voice attempted to lighten the mood.

“Yes, but your point is irrelevant. Fuck, I don’t know what happened. I only get surprise boners like this when I drink!”

Satoru was panting as you tilted your head slightly to the side. “But you did. Mina’s punch has a fuck-ton of alcohol in it.” Your boyfriend's face was contorted in pained pleasure and confusion. “People can’t taste the alcohol because of the liter of Lemon-Lime soda and the whole ass pint of sherbet.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Glancing back down at his erection, he sighed in frustration. “I-It’s going to be awhile for this bitch to go down. I’ll stay out here; you go inside and enjoy the party.”

Right now, in this embarrassing moment, Satoru could barely look at you. During the entirety of your relations, Gojo never drank, leaving that up to you if you were in the mood. You understood he particularly wasn’t too keen on drinking; it was his personal preference. Seeing him now, sulking in a corner, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, cock throbbing. It made a little more sense.

Laughter and loud music blared inside the apartment, drawing your attention to the door. Mina’s special punch was getting to everyone, it seemed like. They were so immersed in their current conversations and food would they even notice your absence?

Satoru was in physical pain. His teeth were clenched as he hissed out in frustration. You took notice of his hands, how they twitched, drawing closer to his crotch before pulling away. The man was fighting against every instinct in his buzzed horny brain. You could tell by his expression that he wanted to do nothing more than stroke his fat cock until he came all over his fist. Satoru, however, was also one not to let his lust overtake him.

He wasn’t some horny freak that would pull his dick out and stroke it until he jizzed all over your friend's balcony railing. You, however, weren’t as collected as he was. Seeing your boyfriend's cock twitching in his pants, the tiny wet spot forming over his leaking tip, made you fucking feral.

“I don’t want to go back.” Closing the distance between you, Gojo watched with bated breath as your pretty hands unbuttoned his pants.

“Tsk!” Your boyfriend hissed, crystal blue eyes darting towards the door. “Y-Y/N, what if someone comes out?!”

“I guess you’ll need to stay quiet. That way, if someone does come.” You whispered, your fingers slowly tugging his zipped down. “Can you do that for me?”

Satoru didn’t have time to think of a response because his dick did all the talking for him. It throbbed hard in the confines of his boxers. He whined and watched more pre-cum seep through the fabric of his boxers.

You cooed, running the bed of your thumb over the growing wet spot. “I’ll take that as a yes?” A nod and a tiny whimper was all you needed.

Slowly, you slid your hand down the band of his boxers, immediately coming into contact with his hot cock. His velvety shaft twitched as you tugged his boxers down just enough to free his erection. The tip was a furiously red shade; his slit dribbled pre-cum. Seeing his fat cock this hard has your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Ahh, fuck, fuuuck,” Satoru whispered through a hiss as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft. You slowly stroked your hands up and down. Squeezing it, trying to mimic how your pussy would pulsate around him when he would fuck you. “Y-Y/N~”

Using his pre-cum as lube, you smeared it up and down his length. Watching the pretty tip twitch madly each time you collected your makeshift lubricant. Satoru groaned, eyes half-lidded, watching you, the way you shifted, pressing your thighs together, how you took your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it, as you jerked him off.

“I-I’m, haaa, I’m the one g-getting jerked off here. B-But you, holy fuck!” He clamped his hand over his mouth, stifling a moan. Your teasing jerks, changed, your wrist twisting with every move. “Nnngh, f-fuck but y-yo—ooooh shit, you're the one e-enjoying yourself.”

“Of course, I’m enjoying myself. Satoru, I love feeling your dick get hard in my hand. It's so fat, hot, god, it makes me wet.”

Satoru flushed, head tilting back, the veins in his neck straining as he clenched his jaw. He was the one that would normally talk to you like this. Having it turned the other way around, he had his head spinning. The dizziness was so intense your boyfriend tilted his head back before he began thrusting into your tight-fitted fist.

“Fuuck, Haa, ooh fuck sweetheart, feels so good.” you bit back a moan of your own, watching as he ducked your hands, stinks of pre-cum running over your fingers, as he slammed the palm of his Hans against the railing. “D-Dont stop baby~ fuck Y-Y/N don't fuckin’ stop.”

Watching him desperately fuck your hand was so fucking pretty. From the thin sheen of sweat on his beautiful face to the throbbing shaft in your hand, everything about Gojo had panties soaked. Right now, you wanted to drag him out of the cramped apartment and back to your place where you would fuck his brains out.

But getting him through the apartment right now was out of the question.to get what you wanted, you had to get him off first! The faster he came, the faster you'd get to have him inside of you.

“You're doing such a good job, Toru~” Your hand moved faster. “I love feeling your cock sliding into my hand. But I love it so much more when you’re sliding into me, stretching me with your cock.”

Satoru was a hundred present, certain you were responsible for his hot blood and the hazy gaze that lingered over his eyes. You were the source of his buzz, and it had him jerking like a virgin into your first. You tried matching his thrusts with your hand. The whines that left his mouth were all the confirmation you needed to know that it felt good.

“F-Feels so good.” Satoru cried out, head dipping down to watch you jerk him off. “Holy fuck, your hand feels so good.”

“Mmhm~ just think about how good my pussy will feel when I get you home.” A grunt sounded from him. “Yeah~ you like knowing that you’re going to fuck me when we get home~? You going to reward me for helping you~?”

“Y-Yes, p-please don’t stop Y/N, I can feel it coming. God, I’m going to cum so hard.”

Hearing the pleasure that paved his voice had you pressing your thighs together. “Yeah~ are you going to cum~? Do it; I want you to cum, baby~ I want you to feel so good~ Like the good you are.”

“Y/N?” Gojo jerked, his head searching for the source of your voice. “Hey, is Gojo okay?”

Without missing a beat, you pulled Satoru down with your free hand. Your hand pushed the back of his head into the crook of your neck. Gojo didn’t know what you were doing at first, but as your hand left to join the other stroking his throbbing cock, he picked up on what to do. He whimpered and moaned softly into the crook of your neck.

“Oh yeah, he’s just a bit buzzed right now.” You stroked him harder, squeezing his shaft. “He doesn’t like drinking and thought the punch was safe.”

Satoru’s arms wrapped around you, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt. His breathing whines were hot against your skin as his balls started to clench. He was so close to cumming, his eyes shutting tight, losing himself in the cooling sensation in his abdomen. So close, he was so close.

“Aww, poor guy, did you need anything?”

Gojo needed whoever the fuck this was to get out of here. He whined out your name into your neck. Hot breath having you shifting.”Y//N c-close.” He whispered as softly as he could as you jerked him faster, both hands working in tandem.

“Nope! We’ll be back inside in a second; I gotta get him home.”

“Okay!”

You waited until the door shut when you moaned with him. “Good boy, good boy~” his fingers dug into your back. “Go on, Toru~ cum for me~ give me it all.”

Satoru cried out into your neck in a nearly silent cry. “Y-/N oooh~ god fuck~ holy fuckin’ shit! C-Cummin’ I-I’m cumming.” You suddenly understood why he loved you, scratching up his back when you came around his cock. It felt good, so good, as he spurted thick ropes of cum all over your hand. “Nnngh oh fuck~! Fuck! Fuck!” His whines were shaky and nearly breathless as his cock weakly twitched in your hand. “Y-Y/NN~”

Gently you let go of his softening cock, bring your cum coated hand to your mouth. Satoru watched you closely, his chest heaving as he slowly came down from his high. He had half expectantly thought you were going to wipe his cup off on the inside of his jacket. What he hadn’t been anticipating was for you to flatten your tongue and lick it off. His sensitive cock twitched back to life at the lewd sight.

“Mmm~” You hummed in delight as if you just finished a meal. “So sweet and salty, Satoru~ I wanna taste it first hand when we get home.”

A switch flipped in Satoru’s head, be it post-nut clarity. He grabbed you by the face, turning you so you were pressed against the sliding glass door. The sudden flip had your breath catching in your throat as your boyfriend bent down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“The only one who is doing any sort of tasting when we get home will be me. If you don’t get us out of here fast, I’ll be sampling that soaking cunt right here.”

You didn’t need to be told twice; you dragged Satoru out of the party, shouting out brash goodbyes. Satoru might be buzzed from the punch. But you were buzzed off of him, and you needed to turn that buzz into a love-drunken affair.

619 notes · View notes

scribblesofagoonerr · 21 days

Text

I'm not a loser!

Pairings: lia wälti x teen reader, caitlin foord x teen reader, awfc x teen reader

Massive thinks to @alotofpockets for her help with motivating me to write and put this out. Sorry it's taken a while, but I wasn't overly keen with how I wrote it & even now, I feel like it's not my best work.

I hope you like it though, and please let me know your thoughts of what you'd like to see happen in this mini fic series!

Things really hadn’t been going in your favour today at all, in fact it had been a completely terrible day at school and you didn’t realise that it was only about to get worse.

Since the day started, it had been horrible from the very minute that you woke up, overhearing the latest argument between your two mums’ on the phone as they fought about you, but you didn’t care to listen to any of the conversation; It always seemed to land back around on the same topic that you argued about, and that subject being you.

It seemed like your mood only worsened when your latest test was handed back to you, graded with a big fat F circled in red around it and it’s not like the disappointing look you received from your teacher helped matters either.

You were quick to shove the paper in the bottom of your backpack, at least then you could try and forget about it; The last thing you wanted was to see the disappointed looks from either of your mums, after you promised them that you would try and keep your head down.

But sometimes it was easier to say that then actually do it.

It’s not like you have ever been a troublemaker in school, but it’s been tough to keep on top of everything and now you’re finding yourself both in trouble at school and at home; You were currently grounded after the latest stunt that you pulled over the weekend with Kyra, which you didn’t find completely fair, but your mama seemed to think different, so what did you know?

The rest of the morning at school hadn’t exactly been great either, you’d somehow managed to land yourself with a break time detention for the forgotten piece of English homework that you were supposed to hand in, but it wasn’t meant like you did it on purpose when there’s added pressure from football games and training, not to mention the messy home life situation that you currently faced, so it's’ safe to say that your school work has now been slacking ever so slightly.

By the time that the bell for lunch went, you were more than ready to escape the classroom. However, when you were walking out of the classroom that’s when it all changed and you came face to face with your tormentor.

“Oi, Y/L/N!” You flinched at the familiar voice of your bully shouting at you from behind, just as you thought that you had been doing so well to avoid them only for you to turn a corner and see them.

You could say that life’s never really been the easiest roller coaster for you, your past homelife hadn’t exactly been fantastic and you’d never even felt true happiness until you found your home at your childhood dream club with a new family that welcomed you with open arms.

The day you signed your first ever professional contract, your life changed completely. When the opportunity arose for you to play for the Arsenal womens’ senior team, you couldn’t help but leap at the chance to play for your dream club, even if you were still quite young.

It was all you’d ever wanted to do.

Despite the rough start in your life, you’ve necessarily not been one of those types of kids to act out, you just get on with life without a single complaint, even with the challenges that you’ve faced in life.

Just like the current situation right now, your own personal tormentor.

You weren’t bothered at first when it was tolerable, it was just harmless name calling and sure, the names’ spilled were mean but you had enough sense just to ignore them but then it got worse and eventually the names turned into physical assault.

You just didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Oi, don’t ignore me, Y/L/N. I know you can hear me, you stupid twat” Your own personal bully continued to shout aloud to get your attention.

Mustering up all the courage that you had, you bit your bottom lip and spun around to face your bully although they were tall and had that slight advantage over you, “I… I wasn’t ignoring you. I just didn’t hear you” Your quick to lie and cover your tracks.

“Whatever” The older girl muttered, rolling her eyes before she continued to push you into a nearby locker, “Listen, stupid. The chemistry homework needs to be handed in today, do you have it or not?”

Your eyes widened in a sudden panic, you’d completely forgotten about it when you were so busy with football and trying to keep up with your own school work that you pushed your bullies’ to the back of the pile, and now you knew that you were gonna pay for it.

“Well, do you?” You pulled out of your thoughts by a sharp pinch on your bicep.

“Um, no… I forgot about it” You quietly admitted, although you knew it was an instant mistake right there and then.

“You forgot? Huh, you really must’ve been born stupid then” The bully spat venomously as they tower over you with a menacing look on their face, “Well, I guess we have a problem now then, don’t we?” they sneer at you.

A single second later, you hissed out loud in pain at the instant impact of being thrown directly into the locker behind you, you can’t help but flinch as an automatic response to the violence that is being directed towards you while you peer up with wide eyes as they tower over you with a venomous look in their eyes.

“You’re not going to fight back, you wuss? What a loser!” They taunt you before they throw you directly into the locker again, “Huh, no response, no defence. You really are a sad little lost orphan aren’t you” they continue to taunt.

You don’t know what it was inside of you but it was like something snapped. You couldn’t take it any longer of the harsh comments spewed or the violence, you didn’t have to put up with it either.

“I’m not… I’m not an orphan” Your usual calm approach to your bully has gone as you can’t help but growl at the older girl while clenching your fists tightly, “I’m not a loser either, I’m not— I’m not!”

“Oh, yeah? Prove it then, loser” They smirk, almost challenging you.

You couldn’t even explain the next few minutes even if you tried.

It was like you blacked out in a state of absolute rage, your fists flying at them as you remembered the self-defence that your mum had so helpfully taught you in case you ever needed it in a situation like this, and now it finally came in handy against them.

“I’m not… I’m not a loser!” You exclaimed loudly as you lifted your own fist up and swung it in the direction of their face, “I am not… I am not a loser!” You’d lost control of your anger like a flick of the switch, lashing out and throwing punches at your bully whos’ been endlessly taunting you for the better part of the last several months.

Even though you know you were bound to be in trouble for it, you couldn’t care less right now because punching your bully and sticking up for yourself was definitely worth it in the end.

And maybe this way, you’d be able to get the attention of both your mums’ in the same room, so that was another positive reason to punch the girl square in the face.

“Yes, that’s fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Bye” Lia exhales a sigh as she ends the most recent phone call with your head teacher this week, having asked her to come down to the school after you’d landed yourself in trouble.

“What’s going on?” Leah looks at the older women confused as the trains alongside her in the gym.

Lia exhales a sigh and slips her phone into her pocket, “That was the school again. Y/N is in trouble” she explains to the blonde.

“Again?” Leah's eyebrows furrow, confused, “What happened this time?” she wonders.

“I don’t know, but I guess I’ll find out when I get down there” Lia mumbles, standing up from the bench that she was previously sitting on, “I seriously don’t know what’s been going on with her lately. It’s just one thing after another” she adds.

“I guess Y/N/N is having a rough time, maybe?” Leah comments that sounds more like a question, not used to your recent streak of wild behaviour compared to the calm girl you are usually.

“What’s going on with Y/N?” Caitlin overhears the conversation and the mention of your name, before she makes her way over to join the two women, “Is she okay? Has something happened?” she asks, confused.

Lia exhales a sigh as she has to face her ex-girlfriend and speak to her, “The school just called, Y/N is in trouble” she explains once more as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“What? What happened?” The Australian woman frowns and digs into her own pockets, pulling her phone out to check for any missed calls from the school, “The school hasn’t phoned me about it” she mumbles, furrowing her eyebrow.

“Well there’s no point in phoning both of us when we’re at the same place most of the time, is there?” Lia remarks, not having the time nor energy to explain anything further.

Caitlin continues to frown and shake her head in disagreement, “I should still be kept in the loop with what’s going on. I hardly hear what’s happening with her at the minute” she states.

“You are told what’s going on Caitlin, I don’t keep things from you” Lia exhales a sigh as she tries to keep calm while talking to her ex-girlfriend, “What more do you want me to do?” she asks.

“Aye, that kid. What’d she do this time?” Katie joins in on the conversation, not sensing the seriousness of it all, “Bad mouth the teacher or get caught cheating on a test?” she jokes.

Lia purses her lips in annoyance with the Irish woman, “It’s not funny, Katie” she states, bluntly.

“Oh come on, so the kid gets into a bit of trouble every now and then. It’s not a big deal” Katie insists, rolling her eyes.

“You’re clearly not seeing the point of how serious this is then, Katie” Leah steps in as she can see Lia getting herself annoyed with Katie’s mock teasing, “This isn’t funny, you know Y/N/N and you know that she’s never usually like this at all!” she remarks.

Katie holds her hands up in mock surrender, “Relax, eh, Williamson, will ya? I’m only joking here, there’s no need to take the high ground about this now, is there?” she says and she can’t help but rile the blonde up.

Leah scoffs in disagreement with the brunette, “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if her behaviour as off lately was down to your antics when she’s around your house on the weekend, cos’ she certainly doesn’t act like this when she’s at Lia’s house” she remarks.

“My antics?” Katie fires back in disbelief.

“Y/N/N acting up isn’t anything to do with how she is at ours” Caitlin chips in and defends the pair of them, “I don’t know what is going on with Y/N/N but this isn’t something that’s neither mine or Katies’ fault” she tells them.

“Oh, really?” Leah scoffs and raises her eyebrows before she looks at the Swiss woman, “Do you want me to come down to the school with you?” she offers.

“Would you?” Lia glances at the blonde in appreciation.

“Of course, I would–” Leahs’ agreement is cut off.

“No way, absolutely not!” Caitlin interjects, very much in disagreement with that decision, “If anyones’ going down to the school with you then it should be me!” she states.

“Caitlin–” Lia begins to speak.

“No, I’m Y/N’s mum just as much as you are, Lia” The Aussie woman insists, not liking the idea of being pushed out of the picture, “We should go down to the school and deal with this together, as a family” she mumbles.

“We broke up Caitlin, we’re not a family anymore” Lia quietly tells her, shaking her head in disagreement, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to go down to the school together, Caitlin. I will go with Leah and then I’ll just tell you what happens” she tells her.

“Why not? No offence, Leah but this hasn’t got anything to do with you!” Caitlin objects to the idea as she looks at the blonde.

“I’m going there to support Lia and that’s important right now” Leah explains to the Aussie woman.

Caitlin shakes her head completely in disagreement with the idea, “No, no– I should be there, Y/N is my daughter, not yours!” she points the finger at the blonde firmly before she looks at Lia, “Fine, if you don’t think we should both go down there then why don’t I just go down there? In fact I’ll take Katie, we’ll take her back to ours afterwards instead” she declares.

“Oh yeah, Y/N/N loves Coopurr!” Katie exclaims, in agreement with the suggestion.

“There we have it then. I’ll find out what’s been going on with Y/N/N and then we’ll go back to ours” Caitlin insists with the idea.

Lia shakes her head in disagreement, “Oh, and make it seem like I’m the bad cop when you bring her home?” she questions.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do here, Lia! I’m just trying to help you out here and be the parent that Y/N/N needs– She’s my kid too, you know?” Caitlin shouts back in response, earning the attention of a few girls in the gym, including their captain Kim.

“I’m not saying that she isn’t. I know she is but it’s easier to do it this way” Lia explains, avoiding the looks from the rest of the girls in the gym who look concerned.

“Is it? It just seems like you’re pushing me out of the picture!” Caitlin makes her feelings evidently clear.

“Caitlin has got a point, Lia. You can’t stop her from seeing Y/N/N like you’re trying to do that” Katie chips in, looking at the Swiss woman.

Lia turns to look at Katie in disbelief, “Stay out of this, Katie. This isn’t your argument to get involved in” she says as she begins to collect her stuff.

“Okay, alright, that’s enough. You’re all causing a scene in here” Kim speaks up loudly as she walks over to them as she overhears the conversation between the 4 adults in the gym, “What is going on?” she asks, glancing between them all.

“Y/N got into trouble at school” Lia begins to explain.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have known that unless I didn’t overhear Lia and Leah talking about it” Caitlin huffs and rolls her eyes.

“I told you, I was getting round to it” Lia fires back as she scowls at her ex-girlfriend.

“Yeah, right” Caitlin mutters in disagreement, “ “And now she won’t even let me come down to the school with her, when I have every right to do that!” she adds.

“It’s just better this way, Caitlin” Lia explains to her ex-girlfriend, exhaling a sigh.

“Caitlin has every right to be there for Y/N” Katie chips in defending her girlfriend.

“Why are you getting involved in this, Katie?” Leah questions the Irish women.

“Why are you getting so involved, Leah?” Katie fires back at the blonde.

“Seriously, Katie? You just seem to find this whole thing hilarious like it’s one big joke!” Leah mutters, shaking her head, “I’m right to want to be there for Lia in this” she adds.

Kim shakes her head in disbelief at the 4 of them acting like they are, “Alright, that’s enough. Okay?” Kim interjects in an authoritative tone of voice as she looks between the 2 exes, “Regardless of you all blaming each other, it’s not going to help you figure out what is going on with Y/N/N unless you work together” she tells them.

Lia’s facial expression softens in realisation, “You’re right, Kim. I didn’t think about it that way” she admits as she looks at her ex, “Look Caitlin, I’m not trying to push you away like you think I am. I just think it’ll be difficult for us to both be there, right now. I’m sorry and I know Y/N is your daughter and you do have every right to see her, just as I do but I would prefer to do this with Leah by my side instead, okay? I’ll text you and let you know what is said, but please understand I find it better to do this way” she tells the woman quietly, finding it hard enough to be in the room with her ex-girlfriend without dealing with anything else.

Without saying anything more, Lia and Leah left the gym as they quickly notified Jonas about the recent events, before they head out to the car to make the way down to your school to find out what trouble you’ve landed yourself in this time.

You knew the single minute that you raised your fist at the girl it would end up in dire consequences, however now finding yourself sitting outside the head teachers’ office with bruised and bloody knuckles, you remain hopeful that this latest stunt was something that both of your mums would be coming down to talk to the head teacher.

Although you still can’t help but wonder how it got so bad?

It wasn’t like you could talk to either of your mums though, because most of the time when you spent time with either of them, you didn’t really want to mention the other in case it brought up any sort of hurt feelings, but you needed them both together.

You didn’t really mean to get yourself in that much trouble today, in fact you’ve never really been one to cause many problems at school if you’re being honest, but you were just so sick of them pushing you around and calling you endless names that you finally had enough and lashed out.

As soon as you hear the sound of footsteps nearing you, you remain hopeful as you look up with eager eyes, hopeful to see your two mums together.

However, you’re severely disappointed when its’ your mama and Leah instead.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, you didn’t want Leah to be here with your mama; You wanted your mama and mum together, but why did that seem so impossible to do?

“Hi mama” You mumble, biting your bottom lip as you avoid the disapproving look on both of their faces, “Hi Leah” you acknowledge the presence of the blonde, whos’ stood there obnoxiously chewing gum.

“Hey kid” Leah greets you with a worried smile.

Lia exhales a sigh and shakes her head, “What have you done this time, Y/N/N?” she questions.

“It wasn't my fault” You try to defend yourself, picking at the skin around your nails.

“I find that one hard to believe Y/N. This is the third call I have had from your school this week” Lia reminds you, moving to sit beside you on the uncomfortable plastic chair, “Do you want to tell me what happened before I go in and speak to your head teacher?” she asks.

“Nope” You shake your head in disagreement.

Leah furrows her eyebrows and sits on the other empty chair, “What happened, kid? It’s not like you to be in this much trouble, or acting out in general” she tries to get answers out of you.

You shrug your shoulders carelessly and bite your bottom lip, “Dunno, is mum coming down as well?” you wonder, curiously as you look at Lia.

“No, Y/N/N. It’s just us– Is this why you’ve gotten yourself into trouble at school, so your mum and I would come down together?” Lia asks in realisation, putting the pieces together about it all.

“Maybe, sorta. I don’t know, cos’ it didn’t work anyways” You mumble, deflating your shoulders as you stand up to head into the office after the head teacher calls you all in; Leah and Lia share a look of confusion with another, finding it hard to understand why you would do that as they follow you in behind.

The result of your behaviour in school leads to you being suspended for the next 2 weeks, which your mama isn’t best pleased with at all if the silence is anything to go by as you trail behind them to the car.

Every time you have tried to talk, you're met with a stern look from the Swiss woman which makes you shut up pretty quickly.

“Mama?” You try your luck to get her a response.

Once again, you were met with complete silence on the car ride back apart from the faint sound of music playing.

“Okay, I know I messed up but how much longer am I going to receive the silent treatment for?” You huff aloud as you peer out the window as your mama drives out of the school car park.

Yet again, complete silence.

“Come on, seriously? The fight wasn’t even my fault in the first place!” You whine in protest, huffing and crossing your arms in the back of the car.

Leah clicks her tongue as she sits in the passenger seat, “You shouldn’t even be fighting in the first place, Y/N” she states sternly.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and not snap back at the blonde, who you really don’t know why she’s even here, you wanted your mum instead, not her.

“I had my reasons to do it, Leah!” You mutter as you glance out of the window in the back of the car.

“Hey! Be nice” Lia glares at you to knock it off.

“What? I’m not doing anything!” You huff in annoyance and fight the urge to kick the back of her seat, “And I did have a good enough reason!” You still continue to insist.

“I don’t want to hear any of the excuses, Y/N” Lia exhales a sigh, shaking her head.

“But if you just let me explain–” You're cut off before you even have a proper chance to speak.

“Explain what, Y/N/N– How can I be so sure about what you’re telling me when you’ve been acting out like you have been for the last several weeks, huh?” Lia scolds you as she looks in the rear-view mirror, “I don’t know what has even gotten into you anymore, Y/F/N!” she states.

You kinda know that your mama does have a point in saying that, because despite your own rough upbringing with your biological parents, you’ve never really acted out or gotten into much trouble until recently, however with how its’ been the last several weeks, you can’t deny that you haven’t been acting out in an attempt to get the attention both of your mums together in the same room.

It just didn’t work this time round.

You just didn’t know you wouldn’t be able to control the anger any longer and you would end up lashing out like in the way that you did. No matter how many people tried to talk to you to figure out what was going on, nobody really understood what was going on right now.

You can’t help but scoff in response, “You won’t even hear my side of things though, at least I know that mum would take the time to listen to me. Why can’t I go and stay at her house instead?” The words slip out of your mouth without much realisation and it’s definitely loud enough for both women to hear.

“Y/N, your mama wants you to stay with her” Leah chips in.

“Why? And why are you even here when this has nothing to do with you?” You glare at the blonde, although you know it’s not her fault for what’s happening, but despite that you’re a stubborn teenager and refuse to admit when you’re in the wrong sometimes

“Y/N” Lia gasps in shock, “Don’t be rude, you don’t speak to people like that” she scolds you.

“It’s the truth though” You mumble and technically, you’re telling the truth about that one.

The Swiss woman shook her head in disagreement, “There’s no need to be so rude, okay? I won’t stand for it, so apologise please– And you know when it comes to you, that your mum and I are both on the same page” she tells you.

“Are you? Cos’ all you ever seem to do is fight these days” You remark snidefully.

“That’s not true, Y/N/N” Lia frowns at you.

“Yes it is, you guys always argue about me– I can’t even tell you how I feel, so I was only defending myself like how mum taught me to do” You explain to the older women.

“What!?” Lia exclaims in shock.

“Mum taught me self defence in case I ever needed to use it. Definitely showed them that today cos’ now they won’t mess with me again” You grin proudly to yourself.

“Are you… Of course she bloody did” Lia mutters, clenching her hands on the steering wheel.

“Calm down, Wally” Leah rests her hand on the older womens’ thigh.

“Mama, you’re clenching your fists. You might want to just chill out a bit” You note in concern as Lia looks angry and you realise you’re going in a different direction back home, “Where are we going?” you ask.

“Change of plan, Y/N. We’re going to see your mum after all” Lia states as she grips the steering wheel tighter.

#woso x reader #arsenal x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #arsenal women x reader #lia wälti x reader #caitlin foord x reader #katie mccabe x reader #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc x reader

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