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#hes probably the only male i can actually stand
evergreenfields · 3 days
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Tea for Two
Part 2 of Yours Truly, A Hostage (Part 1).
After rescuing you in Piccadilly Circus, the Captain takes you up on your invite. Naturally you make tea, scones and sexual tension.
Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!reader
CW: explicit smut, piv sex, penetration, fingering, descriptions of a male body and female body (reader). MDNI.
Words: 3.5k
A/n: Let me know what you think! Also, I love how reader can afford to live on her own.
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You honestly didn’t mean to be folded in half and speared so deliciously by John’s cock. It was only supposed to be tea and scones.
He arrived promptly, not giving you a chance to worry you had been ghosted.
You open the door to find him standing with his hands clasped at his front.
“Hello.” He says, it’s a rumble, heat fills you.
“Hi! Come in! Let me take your jacket.” You wave him into your tiny flat.
“Thanks, love.” You don’t watch as he shrugs it off. He’s wearing a green plaid shirt that hugs his broad chest. He looks different to yesterday, you thought he may look smaller as he wouldn’t be encumbered by all the gear and harnesses. But he was still huge, tall and broad. He’s not wearing a hat so you see his hair is neat and kind of side parted with a lot of grey. He’s in dark blue jeans and boots which probably added another 2 inches to his hulking frame.
“How did you know I love a tea party?” he marvels at the teacups while rolling up his sleeves revealing strong bulky forearms covered in dark hair.
“My third eye.” You point mysteriously between your eyebrows, trying to be nonchalant even though you feel flustered as he essentially started the foreplay by revealing his muscled forearms.
“What else does that third eye see?” He looks at you, it's strange how such icy blue eyes can show heat.
“It sees you behaving yourself.” You say with more gumption than you actually felt. You carry over the teapot and he waits to seat you. You can’t help but laugh awkwardly as he gently tucks your chair in.
“You didn’t have to do all this.” He says with mirth, the delicate teacup in his large hand was making you feel a certain way. You try not to stare.
“It’s a bit much.” You say quietly, “but so was yesterday.” Your thighs bounce up and down nervously. “How’s your friend, teammate, the younger guy, Gaz?”
“He’s alright, he sends his best,” Price didn’t want to reveal the full conversation they had when he told Gaz he got your phone number. Things like “but sir she’s closer to my age” and “no sir, she wasn’t complimenting my facial hair.”
“Oh bless him,” you say, touched.
“Are you okay? What you went through yesterday was no cake walk.” His brows knit together.
“It’s not really hit me yet, to be honest.” You admit, feeling conflicted because you were absolutely sidetracked with getting ready for a date with an SAS captain. You had left your statement at the police station earlier in the morning.
“If you need to talk, I’m here. And there’s no shame in speaking to a professional. A proper professional.” When he smiles, his lips disappear into his moustache and you find it was so endearing, smiling unintentionally along with him.
“Are you always like this with… rescued hostages?” You say earnestly, you’re not sure where you’re going with it.
“Definitely not.” He sits back, ramrod straight, “especially as you were so subtle.”
You feel mortified at how eager you were yesterday and it must show because he leans forward with a concerned hand out, as if to say ‘wait’.
“I’m glad you weren’t subtle,” he says quietly, “I was really taken by you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” It feels weird hearing something so vulnerable, it doesn’t feel real. You feel flushed.
“Are you okay?” You ask him, “I know it’s your job but… it must be such a weight on your shoulders.” You reach out without thinking and squeeze his hand, it’s hot while yours is cold.
“You’re sweet,” he whispers “I’ve been doing this a long time, love.” He turns his hand over and envelopes your fingers, you feel patches of rougher skin.
You nod feverishly “I’m sorry I - it’s another world. I just sit behind a desk.” You’re in uncharted territory, he operates in another world, a dangerous one, one that collided with yours yesterday.
“You don’t need to apologise, it’s an important desk.”
You’re not satisfied with that. Trying to find the right words, caressing circles with your thumb into his hand, you blurt out “you were really brave.” You speak through the embarrassment.
“I couldn’t see you but I could hear you.” Your heart rate climbs. “It was…” you breathe out “so decisive and final.” He squeezes your hand. “I knew I was safe.”
He smiles warmly and covers your small hand with his. You sit like this for a moment, in the moment. You were sure the events of the last 48 hours would dawn on you heavily but right now you felt grounded.
“You’re wondering what to do with your other hand now, aren’t you?” He chuckles, breaking the silence.
“Am I that readable?”
“You’re an open book.” He smiles warmly, crows feet etching into his skin.
You reach over and tentatively cup his cheek, his beard tickles your palm, your thumb caresses his cheekbones, he has bags under his eyes, you sense you were right about him carrying unspoken weight. “Am I?” Vulnerability seeps from your pores.
You breathe from your mouth and on your second intake, John has a hand on the back of your neck. His azure eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips. You didn’t realise how your hands got to his shoulders and on the back of his neck.
He pulls you in slowly and you engulf him, the band has snapped, the kiss is deep and forceful. He controls the pace which is deliberate and slow. He bleeds into you and you feel dizzy with the intensity. His mouth is molten on yours.
You both break away with a pant, the table shakes and the cutlery clinks.
“You alright, love?” Both of his hands are back on the table, palms down, unthreatening. His voice is no longer suggestive, but clipped. You search each other’s eyes.
“I’m good.” You nod frantically.
“We can go as far as you want, we can stop right here, you’re in charge alright?” Your heart and stomach flips.
“I-.” You laugh, shaking your head, all you can feel is the wetness growing in your knickers.
“Talk to me, love.” He flips his hands so his palms are facing up.
“I’m not usually like this.” You say, standing up, “but then yesterday wasn’t usual either.”
Pushing your chair back abruptly with a squeak, you climb into his lap and straddle him. You hear a quiet vibration from his throat, a delectable groan.
“If it makes you feel better, neither am I.” He feels just like you imagined but better, harder, expanses of muscle and a layer of mass. Your dress barely covers your ass as you seat yourself on his lap. His hands move along your waist and down to the swell of your hips. You can smell his cologne and see his eyelashes flutter again as his gaze roams over your chest and neck.
He looks up at you and you can’t look back, his gaze is too intense, you want the floor to swallow you up. You look up to your left, feeling goosebumps as he explores your exposed thighs. He presses them, sighing.
He kisses your neck. You feel tickled by his beard hairs and flexing thigh muscles. In response to his kiss, you do what any respectable woman would do on top of a man, you push against his hardening cock. The chair creaks as he bucks his hips up to meet yours, both of your heavy breathes filling the room.
When he hears the moan that tears from your throat, he is undone. He imagined what you sounded like while he got dressed for the date, and this didn’t hold a candle to it. With one swift motion he pushes his seat back and lifts you up. He squeezes your ass which causes your cunt to flutter and twitch, your knickers fall into your folds.
“My bedroom’s out there to the right.” You wrap your legs around him and you feel something hard.
“Fffuck!” You gasp and grind into him, unashamed.
“That’s my belt buckle.”
You whine in response.
“In time, in time.” he kneads your ass while minding your knees through the tight corridor. He gently lays you on the bed and pushes you into the mattress, manoeuvring so his growing manhood is against your throbbing cunt.
“This is a nice room.” He says seriously while only looking at your eyes and pushing his erection against the juncture of your spread legs, waiting for your reaction.
You gasp, “oh it’s big” and push back against him. His eyes roll and you feel emboldened at the sight of this burly man, a captain no less, lost in how your body feels. You reach up under his shirt to feel the mass of his pectorals, you’re electric with need. His bulky arms on either side of your head frame your vision.
“Darlin’ you are beautiful.” He unbuttons his shirt with one hand while still hovering over you. He likes the blush that falls across your features when he opens his shirt. He kisses you deeply before quickly taking the shirt off his shoulders, pecs flexing and skin shining with sweat. You catch that narrow waist and a happy trail of hair disappearing into his jeans which you resented were still on.
You didn’t realise you said “fuck” out loud again and his laugh hits you in your core.
“Your dress is really pretty, can I take it off?” John drawls, you nod and smile dumbly at his flattery, he’s clearly enjoying your fucked out brain working overtime.
You wriggle out from under the dress and let him pull it over your head. His hands claim your breasts in your lacy bra, fitting perfectly in his palms. You think you heard him groan “s’soft” before pressing his lips to yours.
“Did you wear this for me?” He pushes the lace to either side of your swollen breasts and sucks on your nipples. He teases them gently, pleased to feel they were hard and ready for him. The rough pads of his fingers give you much needed friction.
You look up at him doe eyed and then say “I did. Why are your jeans still on?” with a hard tug of his belt.
You see him laugh silently, shaking his head. He gets up from the bed. The loss of his weight makes you bounce up slightly. You pant and touch yourself, mewling at the ceiling.
A wry smile appears on his face as he bends to take off his boots, watching you intently as you draw circles on your clit through your knickers. He drops his boots next to your slippers, they are massive in comparison and you find yourself breathing in sharply.
Finally the zipper comes down and he shucks his jeans. You watch his bulge intently as he moves.
“Are those boxers regulation?” Your mouth is dry. He laughs and you feel that same flash of affirmation you felt when you first met.
“Are you always like this?” He doesn’t climb on top of you, instead he lays beside you and places his hand on top of yours, taking over the job of drawing circles into your bud. He then slides his middle finger down and up your wet slit, collecting your dew in your knickers.
“Definitely not.” You manage to say before you moan and shudder at his touch, you feel a tightening coil and the pleasure spreads through your body like shattered glass, instant and permanent. His fingers are deft and the movement precise.
“Y/n, you’re so wet.” John’s breathing is heavy against your cheek. You look at him as if to say something but when you meet his eyes, you’re speechless. Only a moan comes out and you snap your eyes shut as waves of electricity hit you. You don’t realise your hands are on your breasts.
“Tell me what you want.” He grits against your temple, hot and humid.
You open your mouth but you can only moan while he teases your clit with fleeting strokes.
“Tell me,” John slides your knickers to the side, eyes down at your glistening sex, “what you want, love.”
You arch your back and turn your face away from him, shy and overwhelmed. You really were in charge of the pace.
“I want you inside me.” Your voice muffled by the back of your hand.
His thick fingers followed the curve of your mound and down to the dip of your entrance. Slick with your juices, it doesn’t take much for his index and middle fingers to push through. John’s cock twitches at the sensation of your tight, hot cunt. You hear him take a sharp inhale.
“Tha’s it.” He begins pumping and you’re embarrassed to already feel an orgasm building. God he’s good at this you manage to think. His fingers curl up to your g-spot and you start to see specks of light behind your closed eyelids. John revels in the sounds of your wet pussy around his fingers and your moans. He adjusts himself, mindful of the undeniable tent in his boxers.
“John I’m- I’m- gonna!” You pant in time with his pumps. You can see his massive forearm and bicep moving between your smaller by comparison legs, his once parted hair now messy and his dark gaze on you - you’re pretty sure that’s why you came so suddenly.
“Oh god fuck!” You call out, the orgasm pulsing through you violently. Your stomach involuntarily convulses and you writhe, one hand knotted in the duvet and the other one clutching his free arm. John watches as you ride out the orgasm, the broken pants and small whines short circuit his brain.
“Fucking hell.” He breathes. You look up at him, neatly groomed beard, a strong dimpled chin and a smirk that could kill. He’s stroking his hand over your thigh and up to your stomach, his eyes are hooded.
“I’m not on birth control,” you say with a parched mouth. You roll over to a drawer and pull out protection. You tear one from the packet, you know it can be a deal breaker for men but it sorted the riff from the raff.
“I had no idea you wanted to have sex.” He says dryly, a prominent bulge in his boxers. You chuckle and slap him playfully in the chest, leaving the packet against him.
You trail your hand down his chest.
“It’s all yours.” He muttered as you pushed past his waistband to find his heavy cock. He breathed out with a guttural groan, calling you darling. You bite your lip and ignore the redness in your face, he’s well endowed and you’re almost afraid to see it. You remove your hands and pull at his waistband so his reddened cock springs out.
“Of course it’s huge.” You mewl, pulling back on his foreskin gently to reveal a pretty pink and leaking tip. John tenses at your needy touch, restraining himself.
You slink to the floor and manoeuvre yourself between his legs. John's heavy breathing fills the room. You reach behind your back and unhook your bra. You shuffle closer and the tip of John’s cock smears precum on your breast.
“Oh love, you already said thanks,” he laughs, bucking his hips so his cock is nestled in your cleavage. You press your breasts together around his manhood and bounce on your haunches. The Captain grunts, his hands pushing your hair out of your face. You stare at his engorged cock appearing and disappearing between your breasts.
Soon he gently pulls you toward him and peels your knickers off. He makes quick work of putting on the condom, you like that he does it in front of you.
“Let me take care of you now.” You climb onto him and rub your slit along his cock, coating it with your wetness.
“You’re perfect.” He groans in response, fingers digging into your hips. You grind faster and faster, moaning with abandon.
“Are you always such a gentleman?” You stutter, rolling your hips, your hands splayed across his muscled chest, your cunt quivering around nothing.
He laughs and flips you over, his arms on either side of you. You giggle in surprise and then choke out a groan when he pushes his cock against your core.
“Please fuck me” is all it takes for his resolve to crumble, on top of your supine and smooth body, smelling like flowers and white musk. You moan in unison when he pushes his tip against your core, his hips shifting closer and closer. Your pussy clenches around his girth.
“Oh god - is it all in?” You stutter, blood rushing to your face, your cunt pulsing at his sheer size.
“Just half way, love.” You hear the smirk. “I’ll slow down.” He pushes himself deeper tantalisingly slowly. You pant when his hips are flush with yours, eyes fluttering. You wonder how you looked stretched around him.
“You alright?” He checks.
When you nod, John sets a steady pace, pulling mostly out and then plunging back into your heat, down to the hilt.
“Oh god,” you shudder, hands gripping his shoulders. His stomach connects flatly with your clit.
“You like that?” His voice distorted with the movement.
“Yes! Yes!” He speeds up and your world is a flurry of motion. His thrusts are fast and sharp and they push you into the mattress.
You feebly try to bring your legs up onto his shoulders.
“Deeper?” He snarls, his day couldn’t get better. He easily swings your legs onto his shoulders, the backs of your knees wet with sweat against his chest. You’re folded into a mating press and speared by his cock. The friction melts you, you’re surrounded by his mass, his scent, his strength.
You thank the stars for his training because his stamina is unwavering. The bed frame creaking, mattress thumping and lewd noises from your wet cunt hits his ears, he’s not going to let this be a 1 and done.
“I think I’m gonna-”
“Do it darlin’, cum on my cock.”
“No no - I think I’m gonna wet myself.” You shudder, a palm to his chest.
“You won’t, trust me.” He grits out while maintaining fevered eye contact, “let go.”
And with that, your orgasm tears through you and you cover both your nethers in liquid.
“Oh f-uck!” You writhe and roll your hips, John slows down to languid thrusts, whispering into your ear “tha’s it, good girl.” The aftershocks spasm through your body, your toes tingle and you babble incoherently, having never squirted before.
“Mmm, y/n,” the Captain hovers over you and looks from eye to eye. He unsheathes himself from you which is met with a whine from your parted lips. He plunges himself back in. You’re wide eyed and breathless at the motion.
“Yes John!” Your nails dig into his shoulders and your calves and feet flop uselessly over his back as he thrusts quickly and deeply, slamming into your sex.
Soon his hands are under your knees and you're folded further, the angle causing him to connect with your tender spot. You feel a fizzle build in your stomach again.
With unnatural speed and precision, John gets you on the precipice again. You begin to feel him quiver, his muscles coiled and tense as he pistons in and out of you. One of his hands squeezes your right breast and the other is on the mattress.
“Please Captain, please,” you coo, trying his rank on for size with a broken moan. With that, John erupts inside you with a violent shudder, his member pulsing stripes of white hot seed. His orgasm is sharp and absolute.
“Ah love, fuck,” He grunts, his thrusts turning sloppy and his grip loosening on your tender breast. “You’re something else.” He barely manages to grit out. You stay entwined for a few moments, savouring the afterglow between kisses.
“Let me clean this up.” He climbs off of you, a finger trailing down your left breast. You’re too fucked-out to respond.
“To the- to the um left.” You call out to him but he’s already found your bathroom. He catches his reflection in the mirror, his sweaty and hairy chest heaving, face flushed red, hair falling onto his forehead, his softening cock hangs between his sweaty heavy thighs, with a full condom.
He swings by the kitchen for two glasses of water, still naked. He likes how your face softens when he passes you a glass, he doesn’t know if he’s flattered that you only looked at his eyes when he appeared.
He joins you in bed, both of you gulping water.
“Tell me,” your voice is hoarse, you add a pause, “what you want.”
John peers at you as if you’ve grown another head. Then a suppressed smile grows across his face as he realises. You are secretly proud of how you copied his accent.
There’s a pause and you patiently give him some grace, he drains the glass and places it on the bed side table.
Finally he turns to face you with softness in his eyes and says, “you. Asleep on my chest, love.”
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astrow1zar6 · 4 months
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Astrology Observations- 013
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I notice Cap Mercurys think so maturely even from such a very young age. These were those kids that always wanted to hang around people older than them. They are old souls at heart and sometimes it’s harder for them to connect with more childlike energies. People their age can see them as boring because of their serious demeanor.
Leo Risings never like to show the sides to them that make them look bad in anyway. These people have big egos so any assumption from others that they aren’t anything but great can take a big toll on their self esteem. They come off so confident but most are really insecure & don’t think they are interesting so they tend exaggerate a lot of facts about them to keep people thinking they are really interesting and amazing. (U guys don’t need ti do that people already think you are before you even speak)
Capricorn risings always look so annoyed when people are speaking to them. Most of the time they are. They have very honest expressions and when someone says something stupid or uninteresting they are more willing to show their uninterested while most are just willing to smile and take it out of being polite. This is why they can come off as rude or snobbish but really the just don’t have time for bullshit. (I definitely think Wednesday Addams has this placement) many don’t know they are being rude but most don’t have the energy to be fake if they really don’t like what the others saying. Very Real people many mistake them for being Scorpio risings.
Venus in Scorpios were probably shamed a lot for their their sex appeal/drives. I notice these people have a very provocative vibe to them that causes a lot of ppl to sexualize them ( especially the women). I’ve seen women with this placement be virgins and still get slut shamed. People always assume they sleep with mad people even if it’s not true.
Moon in 5th housers are actually very secretive about their talents. A lot are so talented but most tend to keep their hobbies and interests to themselves unless they really trust you.
When someone with Venus in the 7th house likes you they will talk about their future a lot with you. This one guy had a big crush on me and would always joke about getting married and starting a life someday ( he made it sound as a joke but in a way I can tell he meant it). Also can be obsessed with weddings. I have a friend with this placement who says she’ll only wanna get married to experience having her dream wedding lol
Venus in 2nd house women always have people buying them things bro. They don’t even have to ask and men will be buying them expensive gifts or paying for their food or trips. Definition of pretty privilege.
Mars in Aquarius like very eccentric things in bed. It’s almost like they enjoy the opposite of what should be expected in bed. Like the women would like to take normally the male role in bed and vice versa a man with this placement could like a very submissive role. The weirder and more out of place the more turned on they get. Can also be really experimental they are willing to try anything once even if it’s outlandish.
Mars in Aries are usually natural athletes. They have amazing endurance and can become pros faster than most.
Virgo moons usually have bad stomach problems or eating disorders. They are also always giving unsolicited advice no one asked for. They feel this need to solve everything but it can come off as kinda judgmental.
Mars in Pisces are usually victims to bullying. They usually have a hard time asserting themselves and standing up so they get pushed around a lot easier by stronger more dominant energies.
Cap moons are always in denial of their feelings
Mars Square Venus synastry can be really awkward at times in a friendship. Theres this bizarre sexual and touchy tension usually that both aren’t fully comfortable with. The mars person can come off a little too strong and can treat the Venus as if they own them. This attraction can be one sided sometimes with the mars person wanting the Venus and the Venus getting repulsed and distancing themselves. I’ve seen the mars person get jealous if the Venus would hang out with others whether it be other friends or family. And if the Venus is dating someone else this can get really heated on the mars end. Venus will feel the attraction but I notice it’s not as strong.
Venus in 5th house synastry is soooooo flirty. These are those cheesy cringey couples that are always acting like little kids around eachother. It’s actually a really sweet placement. This person will be able to bring out your inner child.
Venus in Libras are always crushing on someone. They jump into relationships I think faster than people with Venus in Aries the only difference is that they can maintain longer term partnerships & don’t bore as quick (even if their feelings are a little superficial). They just don’t know what to do with themselves when they are alone.
Scorpio risings I notice get really strong reactions out of people (like Lilith/asc people) their words make others blood boil even if they really don’t say anything offensive or rude. Most people are jealous of their authenticity which is why a lot of Scorpio risings are quiet and not as willing to open up. People just hate on them so intensely for the littlest things. They also have this ability to know if people are genuine or not which can be intrusive to certain people causing intense reactions. They can see thru everyone’s mask which can make other feel uncomfortable to be around them. This is why they usually have few friends and the friends they do have are as authentic as themselves. Literal human lie detectors
Men that have a water sun with a water moon are BIG SIMPS
Cancer sun women will be passively rude to you if they don’t like you or are jealous of you. They won’t straight say it but they will say little comments in a nice way that’s actually really rude. Then usually play victim if confronted
Everyone’s crush in high-school was either a Scorpio sun or a Libra sun/rising. Tell me I’m lying
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domjaehyun · 1 year
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tangerine love (favorite) (l.dh)
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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
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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“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.”
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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.)
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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.”
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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.”
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“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.
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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.” 
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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.”
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“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.
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ta da !!! i hope you enjoyed :) happy new year!
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violet-butterflies · 8 months
Text
❥︎ yandere! Merman
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❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ sexual harassment, kidnapping ( male yandere! oc x gn reader ) Click to see part 2 and a nsfw spin-off !
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It was a dark and stormy night when you first met the merman. You were a lighthouse keeper on a tiny island that was not densely populated. The people that did live on the island were mostly fishermen that lead a peaceful and simple life. However, this night was not peaceful. The storm was roaring and the tides were filled with rage.
You simply went to town to buy a few things and maybe grab a drink with the friendly residents when the storm picked up, forcing you to retreat inside a cave near the sea. You thought it was dangerous since the cave could be flooded when the tides were high but the thunder and lightning seemed even more dangerous since you were walking around the beach with no trees in sight.
You expected to be bored inside a moist and salty-smelling cave but what happened was far from what you had expected.
Inside was a beautiful and ethereal merman who stared at you with wide and scared eyes. He had long white hair that was decorated with seaweed and pearls. He had nothing on, showing off his well-toned body. The most unbelievable part was the fact that instead of legs, there was a long and shimmering silver tail that was covered in scars and a fin that looked like it had a hole in it.
You awkwardly tried to approach it, trying to not scare the merman but failing since he started to thrash in the small pool of water in the cave.
"Shh, shh, shh... I'm not gonna hurt you," you said quietly and gently. The merman must've sensed that you meant no harm as he let you come closer.
The trust only grew when you spent the night, trying to help treat his injuries with the very minimal supplies that you had.
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The next few weeks, you'd come and accompany the merman inside the cave. Not only that, you'd come and bring him food and books to show him. Your days mostly consisted of nothing before sunset when your job actually starts anyways so you had plenty of time to spare. Of course, you kept his existence a secret since you didn't want to bring any harm to your new friend.
It was odd though, his wounds have long healed but he kept lingering in the cave. You were on your wits end as you didn't know what he wanted and he can't speak English. You tried teaching him but, you weren't sure if it was because he was half fish, but he was not the smartest being.
You were about to stand and leave the cave to do your job before the merman snatched your hand and pulled you into the water with him. Startled, your body froze as the merman smiled when he looked at you. He hugged you and began to kiss your neck. Not only that, he began clawing at your clothes as he gave you a passionate kiss. You eventually snapped out of it before biting the merman's tongue hard to surprise him into letting you go. You quickly swam back to land and looked at the water with wide eyes. The merman looked at you with a look of surprise and desperation as he tried to go on land to take you back into his hands.
That obviously didn't work though since you ran out before he could even begin to get his whole body out of the water.
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You didn't bother coming back to the cave since you felt scared and confused at the incident.
The merman basically forced himself on you but on the other hand, he was a mermaid that probably didn't know anything about human knowledge or consent. Still, though, you felt uncomfortable and it was probably better to leave him alone so he can go back into the ocean.
You didn't expect to ever see him again until you saw a familiar figure flopping on the beach just in front of your secluded lighthouse. In an instant, your eyes went wide as you rushed out to the merman before anyone sees him.
As soon as you came into the merman's line of sight, his eyes lights up and began trying to flop faster towards you.
"What are you doing here?! You can be here!"
"I... I sorryyyy" the merman attempted to say with a slow and dragged accent. You can't help but feel surprised since you didn't expect him to remember anything you tried to teach him.
You somehow got him back into the ocean and as you turned around to go back to shore, he pulled you down into the ocean with him. Deeper and deeper until the ocean covers your senses.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month
Text
it's not ever what it looks like
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is saying you're sorry'
rated m | 3,299 words | cw: language, implied sexual content | tags: angst with a happy ending, arguing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, rock star eddie munson, teacher steve harrington, modern au, steve thinks eddie is cheating on him but HE ISN'T I PROMISE, marriage proposal
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
It wasn't the first time Steve woke up to pictures and articles about Eddie being seen with some model or actor, but it was the first time he'd actually been worried.
Eddie had been distant lately. Usually, when he was on tour, he'd call Steve on his lunch break and text him when he got off of work, and he'd try to Facetime him after his show if it wasn't in a different time zone.
But for the past week or so, he had excuses. They sounded legitimate until one of the afternoons he said the band was caught up in an interview so he couldn't call and Jeff called him ten minutes later to ask where Eddie was. Even with that, Steve hadn't assumed he was cheating.
Steve figured maybe Eddie was just tired or his social battery had run out. Those kinds of things happened before occasionally.
But not daily for over a week.
He was barely even responding to texts, and the ones he did respond to were hours later and hardly adding to any conversation.
And now this article.
There was a picture of Eddie standing with his arm around some guy who was taller than him, both of them laughing, looking at each other like...well. Steve knew that look because it'd only ever been pointed at him, but now he was seeing it pointed at just some guy.
The headline read EDDIE MUNSON GIVING UP HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART FOR SUPERMODEL SUPERSTAR?
Steve decided the only way through this was to read the entire article. At least then he could probably convince himself they were wrong.
Except the article went on to explain how Eddie hadn't brough Steve to any shows yet this tour, and how he'd been flirting more with the crowd after the show instead of just during it, how he was seen at two bars over the last week when he usually doesn't go out after shows.
It went on to say that these pictures were taken shortly after they'd been seen sneaking away from a group of people they'd been hanging out with and that they seemed very close for the entire night. The article said the guy was a male lingerie model who made it big posing for Gucci last year. He'd just landed his first film role as a supporting actor and was looking to land a lead role soon.
Steve hated him. And he was getting a terrible feeling in his gut about what was going on.
He had 26 unread texts, most of them from Robin, Dustin, and Gareth.
All of them had said mostly the same things:
I can't get ahold of Eddie.
He wouldn't do this.
Something else is going on.
Call me when you can.
The last one was Gareth, and it's not that he and Gareth weren't close, but they never talked on the phone.
He tried not to think about he didn't have a single message or missed call from Eddie.
Steve called Gareth.
"Steve. Shit, I'm glad you called."
"What's going on?"
Gareth sighed. "Ed's kinda losing it. But before you call him-"
"Why would I call him? Shouldn't he be the one to call me? If he wants to be with some supermodel, he should probably be the one to break up with me, right?" Steve could feel tears gathering in his eyes, stinging the back of his throat. "I'm not sure why I have to be the one to hurt and do the breaking up."
"Steve-"
"Is there something you needed Gareth? Or were you just trying to defend your friend?"
"There's nothing to defend! I swear-"
"Yeah. Well. Tell him to call me if he wants to explain anything, I guess."
Steve hung up just before a sob ripped from his throat.
He never had to worry about Eddie being a famous rock star, spending 6-7 months of the year gone, meeting all kinds of flashy celebrities. Eddie loved him so much, he never had any doubt that he'd always be his first choice.
Until now.
It was a shitty feeling and he had to be at work in less than an hour.
No time to wallow.
He sent a quick text to Robin to let her know he was okay, but needed to focus on getting through work, then shut off his phone.
"Is everything okay?" the art teacher, Mrs. Phineas, asked him on their lunch break. "You seem out of it today."
"Just a migraine," Steve gave a half-smile, hoped it was enough to convince her to leave him alone. He still hadn't turned on his phone, and at this point, he didn't really want to.
She tilted her head to the side. "When are you off to see your man?"
"Don't know," he shrugged, ignoring the tug in his stomach, the sudden weight in his chest.
"Ah," she said, turning back to her soup. "Something happened."
"Nothing happened!"
"You look two seconds away from crying," she gave him a deadpan look. "Did he hurt you?"
Mrs. Phineas was a little older than Wayne, close to retirement, and had been his closest friend from the moment he started teaching at this school nearly six years ago. He'd told her everything about Eddie, their relationship, his hopes of Eddie taking a longer break after this tour so they could have some time just the two of them, maybe make a real plan for their future.
Steve nodded once.
Her hand covered his and she squeezed his fingers in her own. "I may not know him half as well as I know you, but I know that boy loves you. You two will get through this, whatever it is."
"I dunno if we will," Steve whispered, scared to speak louder and risk the tears falling. He'd been doing so well today.
She patted his hand and went back to eating, saying nothing else about it.
His students had caught on early that he wasn't quite his usual self, and the group of second graders had been on their best behavior because of it. As the dismissal bell rang and he started calling for bus riders to line up, someone walked through his door.
Eddie walked through his door.
He bit back the anger, knowing his students loved Eddie and wouldn't know he was here for any reason other than to say hello.
"Mr. Munson!" A few of them yelled as most of them ran up to him instead of getting in the line Steve asked them to.
"Hi kiddos!" Eddie was faking it, but luckily the students couldn't tell. "Sorry, but you guys have to listen to Mr. H right now. I promise I will come say hi again tomorrow."
The students grumbled about it and Steve took in his appearance.
He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept the night before, his hair was in a messy bun instead of perfectly arranged to fall on his shoulders, and he was wearing Steve's hoodie that had suspiciously gone missing the last time he'd been home.
The fact that Steve's first thought was how badly he wanted to pull him into a hug was not a good sign.
He checked names off the list as they filtered out the door and then called the car riders to line up. He went through the list and made sure everyone made it into the hall where they'd be called when their parent pulled up before turning back to Eddie.
He closed his door and made his way to his desk, ignoring the way Eddie awkwardly stood by one of the student desks in the front.
"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, signing off of his work email and organizing tomorrow's lesson plan.
"I needed to explain-"
"Right."
"That article wasn't supposed to come out yet."
Steve's jaw dropped. So he wasn't going to deny it, he was just gonna act like it was the media's fault for releasing it before he could talk to Steve.
"Yeah. So you decided to come break up with me in person because you got caught cheating instead of doing it over the phone right before the article hit online. Got it."
Steve was not going to cry about this. Not in front of Eddie.
He was going to go home, shower, try to eat something, and then he was going to cry for the next 10 hours.
"No, Steve, you don't understand."
"You're right, I don't. I don't understand how you could throw away a 10 year relationship for a model who doesn't even know your middle name. I don't understand how you can fly all the way here and interrupt my day at my job to try to explain to me why you were so cozy with a guy who doesn't even know that you like your hot chocolate with Bailey's instead of regular milk. I really don't understand how you couldn't even bother to text or call me one single time since the article to even try to explain anything." Steve wiped his eyes furiously, angry that his tears were betraying him. "I don't understand why you would expect me to care for reasons."
Eddie wordlessly picked Steve's phone up off the desk and powered it on. He set it down in front of Steve and waited.
Texts and calls and emails came through all at once, hundreds of notifications lighting up his screen.
Many of them from Eddie himself.
"Go ahead. Open them," Eddie didn't sound mad, he just sounded resigned.
So Steve read through the texts, many of them different renditions of 'please Steve, call me' and 'I love you sweetheart I'm sorry.' Not promising.
But then he started playing the voicemails.
"Stevie, it's really not what it looks like. It's never what it looks like. You know that. Please call me as soon as you can. I love you."
"I can explain everything if you call me back. I promise you it isn't anything more than a business thing. Everyone in the band can tell you. I swear. Just. Please."
"I'm getting on a flight to you now. I'm gonna keep trying to call you even when I land. I need you to know what's going on."
"Just landed. I'm on my way to you. The guys are a little pissed, but you're more important than the show tonight. I'm not doing my own thing until I know you understand."
Steve looked up at him, tears still falling down his face.
"Well?" He asked, broken.
"His name is Wyatt. He's trying to make it in the acting world and he was pretty much told he was the top choice for playing lead in a movie that's in early stages of development," Eddie spoke quickly.
"Great for him."
"It's actually great for all of us. The movie is a biopic of Corroded Coffin. He's expected to play me."
At any other time, Steve would be proud, he'd be jumping up and down at this chance for them, and he'd be kissing Eddie without a care in the world.
But he still saw that picture and that article, and no matter how much "business" was going on, it was pretty clear that wasn't all that was going on.
"So you thought sleeping with him would help him get into the role? Or did you just wanna get into him?" Steve bit back.
"The article was wrong! The picture was just really conveniently timed! You know the media are vultures, Stevie. How many times have they written about us breaking up? How many times have they said Gareth and I have secretly been married for the last two years? How many times have they tried to post shitty things about your relationship before me to prove that you can't possibly be queer?" Eddie pulled Steve to his feet and cupped his face in his hands. "I've been spending the last two weeks talking with him and the producer and the guys to see what might work best for production. They want us involved in as much of the writing and filming part as possible. And he had time in his schedule to come to a show last night, so we all took him out after so he could get a taste of what it's like for us. He's really excited for the role and all of us are really excited for the movie."
Steve felt stupid. Well, maybe not stupid. His feelings were valid and he wasn't dramatic about what he'd seen.
But he did feel a little shitty about doubting Eddie.
Eddie, who had literally flown across the country to explain in person so that there was no way Steve could misunderstand him. Eddie, who once Doordashed him soup from his favorite restaurant when he was sick even though he was in Europe. Eddie, who sent letters to the kids in his class once a month to talk about how important music is and following your dreams. Eddie, who loved him for ten years and wouldn't have let anyone get in the way of what they'd built.
Steve fell against Eddie, buried his face in his neck and his hands in his shirt. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his voice saying something against his shoulder. Steve couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t think he needed to.
He just needed to feel him.
“I’m sorry,” Steve said against his neck. Tears soaked the hoodie under him, and Steve could feel tears against his own button down. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone until the article hit, but I was still gonna call you and warn you but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. This is part of the whole lifestyle. I should be used to it,” Steve shuddered as Eddie’s hand scratched at his scalp. “I should’ve reacted better.”
“We both didn’t treat this the way we should’ve.”
Steve snorted, nodded as he found the spot Eddie had tattooed on his neck a couple years earlier. He pressed his lips over the tattoo of his lip print.
“You flew across the country over this,” Steve pulled away and looked at Eddie, vision blurred from crying. “Just to make things okay.”
“I needed you to know. I needed to hold you. I needed to have you in front of me. And I wanted to celebrate the fact that we’re getting a movie about our lives,” Eddie smirked. “I wonder who will play you. Someone with a nice ass is a must. Their hair will have to defy gravity. Don’t know if they’ll find anyone with that smile, though.”
“Me? Why would they need anyone to play me?” Steve played with the string of the hoodie. “That might be kinda boring.”
“How would they make a movie about me and not include you? You’re the reason I ever made it past Hawkins, sweet thing,” Eddie leaned in to kiss his bottom lip. “Maybe they’ll just cast you. No one else could pull it off.”
“Eds-“ Steve blushed. “Wait. Okay, I trust you, but what were you doing in the picture?”
Eddie laughed. “He had just finished telling me about his boyfriend who lives in Italy. He’s apparently just a regular guy in finance who has no interest in the whole fame thing. Sound familiar?”
“Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”
“The picture was me asking if we could crash at their home in Italy next summer on our honeymoon,” Eddie said casually.
Steve froze. “Honeymoon?”
“I’m open to other places, but you still haven’t been to Italy and I know how much you wanted to see Rome and Florence,” Eddie was smirking.
That bastard.
“You are ridiculous, you know that? I’m over here planning how I’ll survive a breakup with you and you fly across the country to propose with a honeymoon planned before I’ve even said yes! You know how crazy that sounds, right?” Steve shook his head. “You’re lucky I love you. You’re lucky I’m not interested in big romantic gestures.”
“Damn. Hold on, let me make a call,” Eddie reached into his pocket for his phone.
“What?”
“I gotta cancel the big romantic gesture,” Eddie explained as he typed furiously on his phone.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It was a whole thing. Robin was involved. There may have been 500 flowers ordered. I think it’s too late to cancel the singing telegram though.”
“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Steve wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of that was true.
“Oh, I’m serious. The ring was being set on the bed in the middle of a heart made of rose petals. I didn’t half-ass a fucking thing, angel.”
Steve pulled his phone out of his hands and set it on his desk. “Don’t cancel anything. I changed my mind. I am very much into big romantic gestures when it’s you doing them.”
“It was a team effort. I mean, I had to move it all up unexpectedly, but this was all gonna happen next month when I came home." Eddie pulled Steve into a long kiss, tongue tracing his lips. He pulled away to rest their foreheads together. "I'm not doing this just because of what happened, but I need you to know you're it for me. You've stuck by me through failing senior year, through being broke trying to book gigs all over the midwest, through the stress of our first album being released and the unexpected overnight fame, every album and tour since then, every time I've had to miss things that matter to you because of the band, all of it. You love me anyway. I don't always deserve it, but I'm grateful."
Steve's lips pressed against Eddie's again. "I love the life we have. I love you."
"I'm not asking you without the ring. I made so many plans. Robin will murder me in my sleep if I don't go through with them," Eddie laughed. "So can we get out of your classroom before I do something inappropriate and get you fired?"
"I mean," Steve glanced at the clock. "Technically all the students should be gone. We could lock the door..."
"Steven Harrington! How dare you suggest I fuck you over your desk in a school! I can't believe you would tell me to unbutton your jeans," he said as he unbuttoned his jeans. "And get on my knees." He got on his knees. "And suck you until you can't stand anymore."
"Eddie!" Steve chuckled, shoving his hand in Eddie's hair. "We should at least lock the door."
"So you're not saying no?"
"Why would I say no?"
"That's what I'm saying!" Eddie got back up and ran to the door, flipping the lock and turning back to Steve with flushed cheeks. "This is like, maybe three of my biggest fantasies in one, so I may actually come in my pants."
"You're ridiculous."
"Baby boy, my hand is my only friend on tour, you know that. How can I possibly hold myself back when I've got your dick in my mouth?" Eddie dropped to his knees again, looking up at Steve with something close to reverence.
"It's not in your mouth yet," Steve smirked as he tugged his waistband down enough to free his cock.
"Oh, I missed you," Eddie said directly to Steve's hard cock. "Steve, I want you to fuck my mouth until I pass out."
"I'm not doing that."
"Okay, well I'll settle for until I have to tap out."
"Fine. But it's not gonna be long for me," Steve shook his head. "Missed you, too."
"The sooner the better, sweetheart."
498 notes · View notes
psychedelic-ink · 4 months
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒
ㅤㅤghostface!mike schmidt x afton daughter!reader
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genre: smut, minors dni, dark content, ghostface au
word count: 4.5k
summary: how were you supposed to know one of your closest friends was also the one in desperate need for revenge?
warnings: dubcon (this can also be considered noncon to some since there's the fear of death in place so if that's not your thing please don't read), knife use, manipulation, voyeurism but no one actually sees, daddy kink, piv, blowjob, nonconsensual somnophilia, male masturbation, reader doesn't know what william did, dirty talking, creampie
a/n: a day late but happy thanksgiving everyone 🖤 i am thankful for my josh hutcherson phase (normally I was going to post this yesterday but oh well you get it)
**dividers made by @saradika xx
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How long has it been since you came here? How long has it been since you witnessed the clean beige exterior that now looked more suffocating than liberating? 
You observe the dust over the picture frames as you drop the suitcases, the sudden release of weight making your back bend back like a bow. You stare for a while. Your dad had bought this particular vacation home ages ago. Ironically he had done it so the family could spend some quality time together over the summers. That was before the incident. Before your mom left, only leaving you and him. 
Now the dirt outside was muddy from the pouring rain. Leaves turning to mush under the pressure of tires and boots. You hear the faint sound of the car door closing. Moments later Mike stands behind you. You can feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. It soothes you. 
“So this is the famous summer house huh?” he looks around, not bothering to close the door behind him, he takes a step further. “God, it’s cold in here. Please tell me there’s a heater somewhere.” 
“Probably in the basement. Remind you this place wasn’t meant for winter.” 
“Yeah I can see that from the windows,” he turns and finally closes the door. “It’s a bit eerie that anyone might just watch us from down there.” 
You scoff, “Who’s gonna watch? This house is the only one. Besides it’s just a couple days.” 
Your dad was finally selling the place. Meaning you had limited time to pack the things you wanted to keep before the rest was torn out. You knew packing all the old pictures would be overwhelming so you asked Mike to join and he was more than eager to help out—which was a bit surprising but you were grateful nonetheless. He was always kind to you. Always so gentle. He made your heart jump whenever he looked into your eyes, observing, searching them for something more. You never knew what he was searching for. 
Mike walks ahead with just his backpack, he’s wearing all black: black hoodie, black pants, black jacket. . . he’s completely contrasting his surroundings. He turns to you with rounded eyes and you melt a little. 
“So where am I staying?” 
“Let me show you,” It’s odd being in the halls again, you remember them feeling endless when you were a kid. The floor underneath you creaks. “Luckily we have a bunch of rooms. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, it’s not like we entertained a lot of guests.” 
“Well, it worked out in the end. Now I have a place to say.” 
“Silver lining,” you agree, showing his room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to head to bed and we can brainstorm where to start in the morning.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he steps inside the room and you can’t help but be reminded of how out of place he looks. “Good night.” 
“Good night, Mike.” 
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He stands at the door with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Not that it’s important what his expression is. It’s not like anyone can see it underneath his mask. The mask that he’d bought last second. It is now or never. And this is his chance to avenge his brother, his broken family. This is the solution to all of it. 
It doesn’t help that you’re soundly sleeping. Your lips slightly parted, more skin showing with each rise and fall of your chest. Mike takes a step further inside. The wind howls against the naked windows. Yet, your room managed to stay warm. You turn around to lay on your back and he sees you parting your legs underneath the comforter. His cock grows hard at the sight, he’d love to take you right now. Fuck you until you gasp awake, your sweet cunt dripping with arousal—you’d tell him to stop, not recognizing who he is and he’d go on until you’re creaming around him. Your body becoming sweaty and warm. 
Mike licks his lips and rubs a palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes search your room. You hadn’t unpacked yet. Your suitcase open with clothes pouring out the edges. You probably just picked that flimsy shirt you were wearing and headed to bed. He slowly walks to the pile of clothes, within, he finds a pair of black lace underwear. Mike picks it up. A gloved thumb follows the patterns of delicate flowers. His lips curl upward, just what you were planning on doing with him here? In your old family home where it’s just the two of you?
He stands at the edge of your bed. He’s amazed at how much he can get away with without waking you. It’s amazing how much you trust him without a second thought. 
Too bad he doesn’t trust you. 
With your panties, he fists his cock, the fabric catches against the head prompting the jerk of his hips. He strokes himself fast and hard. Precome seeping into the delicate fabric. His eyes are glued to your lips, the pacing of your breath, your body that’s sprawled underneath the sheets. His cock twitches. Balls tightening as he imagines the sounds you would make for him with a knife against your throat and him deep inside your cunt. 
The smallest of groans manage to escape him as he spills into his fist and the fabric, thick ropes of come staining your panties, he inches closer. Hips stuttering helplessly while wishing to see himself dirty your pretty parted lips. He knows he will soon enough. He sees the way you look at him, how desperate you are for affection and a sense of belonging. Mike enjoys the sense of control he has over you. It makes it all that much more sweeter. 
He’ll take you. Break you. And pull you back together again. 
He’ll ruin William Afton’s precious little girl. 
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You’re blessed with a little bit of sun today. Bits of dust sway in the air, boxes upon boxes standing around you and Mike. Two empty coffee cups lay idly on the floor. You slept like a baby last night, which was something you hadn’t expected, yet when you woke up you felt a bit off. Your door was open for starters. And you definitely remember closing it. Mike had just shrugged it off, saying that you were tired and probably forgot. 
Which is likely, now that you think about it. 
Mike picks up one of the framed photos of you and your dad. Despite the sunlight filling the living room, a chill settles over your skin. He observes the photo longer than necessary. Then he traces the engraved name underneath the picture. 
“Afton,” he murmurs. “I keep forgetting you’re an Afton.” 
He doesn’t let go of the picture as his eyes meet yours, you don’t like the look in them. He almost seems angry. 
“What does it matter?” you say in a sheer tone. “It’s not like it means anything whether I’m an Afton or not.” 
“I’d beg the differ. And I know some other people would too.” 
Mike places the photo in a box, eyes dropping to the floor. Heat rises to your cheeks. You’re confused. Very confused. “Are talking about Freddy Fazbear’s? You know I don’t like talking about that Mike.” 
“No need to get defensive. I’m just saying that your surname isn’t nothing,” he gives you a small smile but it does little to calm your nerves. “You were never suspicious of him?” 
“Of what?” 
He gives you a blank stare, “Of the murders.” 
Your mouth opens and very promptly snaps shut. Mike was never interested in this before. He hadn’t even asked about it, not once. Your shoulders drop and your heart feels heavy in your chest—Were you ever suspicious of him? Of your own father? To be fair you never thought about it. You shut your eyes and plugged your ears. You never wanted to think about that wretched pizzeria and all the things that happened in it. 
Your stomach jumps when he reaches out, curling his palm over the slope of your knee. You release a long breath. 
“Sorry for bringing it up,” he says, his eyes now soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 
“That’s okay.” It wasn’t. You get up, feeling the weight of his gaze as you do. “Alright, I think I’m gonna take a brisk shower then we can make pasta or something.” 
“I can start on that,” he answers. “Pesto or marinara?” 
“You can pick. I’m fine with either.” 
He nods and you leave before he stands. You feel icky all over. The dust and the sudden reality check about your father’s pizzeria and his role in all that had happened make you desperate to scrub yourself clean. 
You swiftly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, giving it a hard shove until you hear the satisfying click. The inside smells of lavender. 
You strip and throw your clothes into the washing machine. The water warms up easily when you step inside. You draw the curtain shut and sigh at the clean water caressing your skin. Warm showers are the solution to everything. Even daddy issues. You begin to wash your hair, a soft moan dropping from your lips as you massage your scalp. The water trickles down your neck and between your breasts. With soapy hands, you give yourself a firm squeeze and graze your thumbs over the pebbled nipples. 
“That’s nice,” you sigh, hands moving up to rinse your hair. Maybe after the shower you can lay down and treat yourself until lunch is ready. Your vibrator’s fully charged, and the prospect of Mike hearing the faint buzz of it makes your pussy throb. 
Just as you reach for the loofah a soft click echoes in the steamy room. 
Your body tenses. Your heart suddenly beating a mile a minute. 
Your eyes turn in the direction of the door but you can’t see well with the curtain. All you see is the blurry darkness of the hall thanks to the open entrance. “Mike?” you call out, voice trembling. “If that’s you it’s not funny.” 
Of course, it’s not him. Even from here, you can smell the pasta sauce. Pesto. You desperately search for any kind of weapon you can use but all you see are shampoo bottles and the loofah you’re currently holding. You swallow. Turning back to the curtain, you see a faint shadow. It tilts its head. 
You need to attack. Need to do something before they do. How did they even get in here? 
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 
But you’re frozen with fear as the stranger curls their fingers around the shower curtain. The rest happens suddenly. The curtain is ripped open and you see who it is—Mostly. You see the mask, two pitch-black eyes staring back at you. Instead of screaming you jump away, the porcelain slips from underneath you, you fall and as soon as you do, you’re swallowed by darkness. 
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Your eyes flutter open. There’s a sharp sting against your forehead. 
“Thank god you’re awake.” 
“M—Mike?” 
Your vision stops shaking and you finally see him. Mike, and his two soft brown eyes staring down at you. He’s holding a ball of cotton, the white stained by a bit of red. “What. . .” You attempt to get up but quickly forgo your decision when your head throbs. Mike clicks his tongue and presses the cotton to your head, your eyes tear up as it stings, but it slightly subsides seconds later. Looking down, you notice a towel was thrown over you. 
“I should be asking you that, how the hell did you slip?” 
“I. . . I didn’t.” 
“What do you mean you didn’t?” 
“There. . there was someone in the shower,” Your blood freezes as you remember. “He. . .I think it was a he? He was wearing a mask and he opened the curtain and fuck—I was so scared Mike.” 
Your arms move on their own and wrap around his neck, pulling him close. It takes him only a second to mimic your movement, wrapping his arms around your cold shivering body. His fingers trace your spine. A pleasant shiver runs up your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he murmurs. “But. . . the door was closed.” 
What? “What?” You shake your head as you pull away from him, ignoring the towel slightly sliding lower. “There’s no way. How did you see me then?” 
“Well, I shouted for you but you didn’t respond. Then I knocked and you didn’t respond again. The door wasn’t locked so I let myself in.” 
“And you found me unconscious? No one was here?” 
“Only you.” 
You shudder. That’s absolutely terrifying. 
“Come on let’s. . .” he swallows and you notice his eyes lingering where your towel has fallen. The swell of your breasts exposed. Looking away, you pull the fabric up and properly wrap it around yourself. His eyes move up to meet your gaze. “Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat.” 
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Your last night here. Finally. 
After the unfortunate fall in the shower, you never managed to shake the feeling of being watched in your own house. You didn’t say anything to Mike but you knew he saw how freaked out you were from your eyes, by the way you would jump at every sound. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the stranger’s mask—those damn black sockets and open mouth staring back at you. It didn’t help that every morning you found your door wide open. You could’ve sworn that you closed it. But without fail, the door was open in the morning. 
And you’re so grateful to be done with it all. 
Stacks of boxes stand tall near the door. You were adamant about having everything ready tonight so that as soon as the sun peaked through the two of you could leave. Which was why you had ordered Mike to pack his suitcase— you’re doing the same, folding clothes with shaky hands and hoping the morning would come faster. 
Throwing your shirt into the suitcase your brows furrow, “What the hell?” you murmur as you lower yourself to your knees. The drawers and closet are emptied out, so why the hell do you only have three pairs of underwear? 
Sweat beads at your forehead. With panic, you rummage through the neatly folded clothes. You don’t care about the mess or the fact that you’ll have to fold them again—why can’t you find the other pairs? 
You’re completely defeated as your entire body deflates. Just three. You remember packing ten. They’re gone. All gone. Stolen. 
Your heart lurches and you feel it beating in your throat. You want to leave. You want to leave. You want to leave. 
The phone rings. 
It’s loud and booming. Your eyes shot towards the hallway. It’s the landline. A phone that hadn’t been used for god knows how long. You weren’t even aware that it was still connected. 
You blink rapidly, forcing the sting of tears to fade. You stand on shaky legs as you head towards the phone in the living room. You vaguely hear Mike mumbling a melody that’s familiar but also not at the same time. 
You stare at your reflection in the widows as you pick up the phone. Normally you’d appreciate the view. The dark sky, the swaying pine trees. But not today. 
You clear your throat, “H—Hello?” 
You hear a faint static, a low internal breathing, then the silence talks back, saying your name. You shudder at the rasp in his voice, fear weighing you down and gluing you to the floor. “Who is this?” you ask. 
“You know who I am,” he murmurs and takes a deep inhale. “We’ve met before remember? That moment in the bathroom.” Your body freezes all over, he chuckles, then speaks as if reminiscing a fond memory. “You looked so amazing. Nipples hard, body wet. Were you touching yourself?” 
You remain silent, eyes glued to the hall that is lit by Mike’s room. You want to call out. You really do. But you’re terrified. 
“Was it him you were thinking about?” 
“That’s. . .” you swallow. “That’s none of your business.” 
“Everything you do is my business,” he snaps but then the harsh baritone of his voice quickly softens. “Fine. Don’t. I know the answer anyway.” 
“What do you want?” 
“I want the truth, Miss Afton.” Your breath catches, your knees begin to shake. “Just answer my question and maybe you won’t die.” 
You remain silent and you hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl. Now, do you know your father is a murderous piece of trash? Yes or no?” 
You close your eyes, shake your head, you can’t answer. “Fine,” he huffs. “Do you think you deserve to live?” 
“I. . .” Your mouth goes dry and your fingers tighten around the phone. “I do.” 
Honestly, you’re not sure if you believe that. 
“Oh, I’m sorry but that’s just not correct,” he answers with a melodic lilt. “You don’t deserve anything. Why should your life matter more than the other kids that were killed by your father?” 
“It shouldn’t.” 
Your voice barely comes out in a whisper now. Your eyes drop to the floor, maybe if you run and get to Mike in time you can save you both? 
“Is your dad a killer yes or no?” then he adds. “You better answer correctly this time.” 
“I don’t know,” you say this time, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 
“Wrong.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath you open them again. All you see is your reflection. “I’ve been watching you,” he says. “You sleep like a log. I watched you. Fucked my fist while you were sleeping soundly, dreaming of sunshine and rainbows,” he sighs. “Or whatever the fuck girls like you dream about.”
You’re appalled by the sudden gush of wetness that courses through you. You shake your head, trying to push the images away. “Please don’t do this,” you beg. 
He stops speaking for a good while, for a second you think he hung up, but then you hear his breath in your ear and know that he’s still there. “I keep forgetting.” 
“Forgetting what?” 
“That you’re an Afton.” 
Your heart drops to the pits of your stomach. Every fiber of skin burning and tingling with the realization. You’ve heard those words before. You’ve heard the hidden accusation in them. Your ear burns from the phone pressed against it, you press it harder, not wanting to miss a second of dialogue. Your lips brush against the plastic as you do. 
“Mike?”
The line goes dead. Silent. And you realize you preferred words coming from the other line. Tortorously slow, as if in a dream, you place the phone back in its cradle. You feel him before you see him. Your head turns. You feel every muscle pulling as you do. 
And there he is. 
The man with the mask. 
“Mike?” you say again with less conviction. He tilts his head, not moving, not saying anything. Your body stiffens and your eyes drop to his hands where you see the sharp edge of a knife. You drag your gaze back to the mask, hoping that you’re staring into his eyes, “Why?” 
He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You’re inches away from the wide windows. “I had a brother,” he says, you’re surprised to find yourself relaxing upon hearing his voice. “I’ve tracked down the suspects. Looked at similar cases for years. Every bit of information leads to Afton.” 
“I had nothing to do with it.” 
Another step. The glass is cool underneath your palms. 
“You father did,” he answers. He stands only an inch away now, your stomach jumps when he presses the sharp edge of the knife against your neck. You hold your breath. “The day he took him is the day I lost everything. My family shattered. All because of him. And now. . .” Mike presses the knife harder, a hint of pain blossoming from where he’d cut. Your eyes snap shut. “Now I’ll take his little girl. Eye for an eye.” 
“Mike, please,” you whisper. Then you say something that surprises you both. “Take off the mask. If I’m going to die, I want to see you.” 
He tenses but obliges anyway. The mask falls to the floor, his hair mussed, soft curls fall over his forehead. A bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving at all since you two arrived. He doesn’t look scary, not at all. He looks vengeful, yes, but the softness in his eyes is still there. 
“What are you going to do to me?” 
Mike’s nostrils flare as he inhales, he exhales through parts lips, you feel his warm breath on your skin. “I’m going to ruin you.” The knife is replaced with his hand, he squeezes your throat, pulls you away from the glass, and slams you into it. “You’re mine now. I own you.” 
You shudder as he lets you go, his hands fumble with his jeans, and the fabric pools at his ankles. “Get on your knees and suck daddy’s cock.” 
You stare at him, wide-eyed but do as you’re told anyway. You drop to your knees. His cock achingly hard in front of you. He holds himself and drags the wet tip across your lips. He slides the underside of his cock against your face and without thought you dart your tongue out, tasting him. Mike groans, the sound rattling in his chest. With no warning given, he slips his cock between your lips and stops halfway. Your eyes water at how thick he is. 
When you look up you see he’s holding his phone, camera directed at you with his cock in your mouth. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smirk. “I need a souvenir to remember how good you look with my cock in your mouth. Who knew Afton’s precious daughter was such a slut.” 
Your eyes flutter as he shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. He cradles your head and starts fucking himself deep into your mouth. “You know,” he rasps. Mike pushes himself especially deep and smiles broadly when you choke around him. “You really should be thanking me for not slitting your throat during all the nights I watched you.” 
He suddenly stops and pulls out until it’s only the head between your lips. His cock throbs on your tongue, he forces your gaze up to him, “Thank me for not slitting your throat.” 
“Thank—” It’s hard to speak with him still between your lips. You swallow and try again, your nipples tight. “Thank you for not slitting my throat.” 
“Such an obedient girl,” he muses. “I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house. Get up—” 
He says that but lifts you himself, impatient, he presses you against the window, your cheek smushed against the clear surface. Your neck strains a little. His breath caresses the back of your neck, his lips on your ear, “Time to pay for your father’s sins.”
Mike lifts your shirt and pulls down your sweats. His cock lays heavy above the small of your back. Warm and wet. You clench as he pushes you forward, your breasts fully pressed against the glass. He kicks your legs apart, holding your arms back, Mike slips inside you with ease. Your breath halts in your throat. You only feel pleasure. You drip down his length, and with a groan, he buries himself to the hilt. 
“I knew you’d been waiting for this,” he groans. “So fucking wet—” 
“M—Mike—” 
He clicks his tongue and cocks his head to the side, his forehead brushing against the back of your head. “Not Mike.” 
“Daddy,” you moan as he pulls out and slams back in. You choke. “Daddy—” 
Mike fucks into your harder, the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room, wet squelches following. Your knees shake as you find yourself completely immobile against the glass. His fingers curl around your neck and he yanks your head back, hips relentless. 
“Look at that, anyone could see you now. I wish we had an audience.” Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, his hips stutter forward, a sharp moan rattling in his throat. He laughs. “Does that turn you on?” Helpless, you nod. “That’s it, take it. Daddy’s whore.” 
“Kiss me—please—” 
The plea takes him by surprise, he stops, hand tensing around your neck, you feel the pulse of his cock deep inside you. He drags his hips down your neck and teases you with his teeth. Goosebumps rise over your skin. And finally—finally—those perfect plush lips meet your own. It’s cruel really. The red strings of fate that tie you two together. You’re still not sure what to make of it all. Or of him. But you surrender. You surrender to his mouth and tongue. Mike swallows you whole. His tongue moves lavishly over yours, sliding and sucking as he presses harder inside you. 
“Gonna come inside,” he breathes into your mouth. His hand drops between your legs, your body shaking as he draws tight circles around your clit. 
Mike’s lips meet your throat, gentle then ravenous, making their way to the blankets of your clavicle, scraping the delicate skin. You arch against him, pleasure building, craving more. He thrusts harder, deeper, the pleasure increasing with each movement. His fingers grab your hips, and you can feel yourself tightening around him, his cock slamming against your core inside of you. Obscene sounds come from where he’s playing with your clit. You feel like a rag doll. And soon the coil snaps, you’re falling. 
Your entire body goes tense, his name leaving your lips in an urgent plea as the pleasure overtakes you. You shake and tremble, Mike continues to hammer into you, hand leaving your core and bracing itself near your head. Briefly, you manage to look outside. See the darkness that looms over the forest. Then you notice his reflection in the glass, eyes meeting yours. 
He smiles. 
Mike moans loudly, lips parting, his hips stutter over and over, spilling himself inside. Your eyes roll back, a whimper falling from your mouth as you take all of it. He holds himself there until his come starts to drip from where he stretches you. Your forehead finds purchase on the glass. Cold and soothing. His lips brush the back of your neck. 
“You look so tired already but we’re not done yet,” he parts your lips with his fingers and pushes them inside. Teary, you find his eyes in the reflection once more. He’s pleased. “I was serious in what I said, Miss Afton. I own you, now.” 
“Mike. . .” 
“And no matter where you run off to,” he murmurs, cutting you off. A hint of annoyance in using his name.  “I’ll always come back.”
633 notes · View notes
authorhjk1 · 5 months
Text
Interlude: Doctor appointment turns into bunny breeding sessions
( Kim Minji X Male Reader)
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You sigh as you look around the waiting room. It has been a couple of minutes now, since the two girls left. About to stand up, you suddenly see one of the doors open.
The woman in the doorframe makes your eyes widen. Who is she?
The Korean woman wears a black jacket and a pair of shorts. The shorts almost make it look like she isn't wearing anything to cover her core at all. Her black choker and leather boots complete the all black outfit. It looks like she is also wearing fishnets, which barely even reach her knees.
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"Ugh! I hate it here."
She slumps down on the chair on your left. Only now you realize she is also wearing a black top.
"How come?"
You decide to talk to her. This isn't an actual waiting room after all, which means she must live here. And that means, she is probably in on all this.
"The doctor is crap."
She doesn't even look at you as she blows a bubble with her gum.
"Which one?"
"The one with the pink hair."
She has her legs and arms crossed, while she sits next to you.
You frown. The two girls you met at the airport had brown and black hair. Whom is she talking about?
"What's your name?"
"Minji. Yours?"
"(Y/n)."
She offers you her fist and you give her a fist bump.
"Is something going on downtown?"
"What?"
You look at her in confusion.
"Is something wrong with your..."
She deliberately looks down at your crotch.
"Why would you ask that?"
"Because the doctors here are specialized in that area."
Minji blows another bubble, letting it pop loudly.
"I see."
It's silent for a couple of moments, before she asks again.
"So? Something going on?"
You ponder if you should tell her. This is still fake. So maybe you will get something out of this. You eye her from the side. Her face looks like that of an angel, although she is currently going for the opposite persona. Her black top is low cut, which means you have no trouble enjoying the view. Because the lower part of her jacket is covering her shorts, it looks like she isn't wearing any pants. Her long, creamy legs are on display.
"I produce too much.... You know?"
You glance at her face as she looks at you.
"I see."
She nods while blowing another bubble.
"And you?"
She shrugs her shoulder.
"I have this kink. Although the doctor says it's an addiction."
She scoffs, before shaking her head.
"What kind?"
You might have sounded a little too curious.
Minji ignores your question as she suddenly looks around.
"Hey, can you make sure no one comes in?"
A little surprised, you nod, before seeing Minji leaving her seat. She walks towards the "counter" before leaning over it. Her jacket rides up as she reaches for something. Her tight black shorts hug her butt perfectly, giving it a perfect shape.
But your eyes are quickly caught by something else. Black ink is decorating her left thigh, right above the back of her knee. The tattoo seems to be made out of three small butterflies.
Once she found it, she turns around, holding up her phone.
"Those idiots took it away from me. They said, I can't stop reading this stuff, but they are just overreacting."
"What kind of stuff?"
You watch Minji walking back to her seat next to you.
"I keep reading fan fiction about me. I'm a rock star, you know?"
"Oh, really?"
"Surprising, right? A sweet girl like me?"
She wiggles her eyebrows mockingly, before turning her phone on.
"And what kind of fan fiction?"
"I found this amazing story on Wattpad least year. The author's name was something with HJK? I dunno. But it was deleted. Luckily, I took a few screenshots."
"And what is it about?"
Minji winks at you.
"It's about how I get my back blown out by the reader."
You don't know how to respond to that. You are glad she keeps talking.
"I'm supposed to have a throat fuck kink, according to the story."
"And is that true?"
You are surprised at how freely she talks about this.
"Well, yeah. I like it. But that's not my favorite thing."
You see her opening her Tumblr account "timetobreedminji". After seeing her username, you are already able to guess, what her favorite thing is. Still you ask her, wanting to hear it from Minji in person.
"And what is your favorite thing?"
The Korean girl looks up from her phone to look at you. Her eyes are big and dark.
"Beeing bred."
Her eyes suddenly become a little darker as if you just triggered something in her.
"The doctors try to convince me, that I'm delusional, but that's not true. Do you know, why my fans call me bunny or rabbit?"
You shake your head. You expected another kind of name for a rock star, but you are in Korea after all.
"Because they all want to breed me."
"Really?"
You don't sound as surprised as you thought you would. Minji nods her head.
"The doctors told me, I'm fertile as hell. Perfect for breeding."
Her phone is lying forgotten on the seat next to her. Glancing at it, you read the title of the post, which she is currently reading. "Doctor's appointment turns into bunny breeding session"
(Author's note: "What the...??")
Minji looks around the room, before sighing heavily.
"Do you know how long it has been, since someone tried to breed me?"
You shake your head.
"About a week ago. I feel so empty."
By now, your dick in your pants is already hard. Forget about Yoohyeon and SuA. You have to fuck Minji first.
"Wait a minute."
She scans you up and down.
"You said your balls are producing too much cum, right?"
You nod your head hesitantly. Minji makes this roleplay stuff feel very real.
"Isn't that great for breeding?"
You should have known this question would come eventually.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, the more you cum in me, the higher the chance you breed me properly."
"But I have an appointment soon."
Minji rolls her eyes in annoyance. Her rock star persona shining through.
"I don't give a fuck. Those doctors are dumb anyways. Wouldn't it help us both?"
You think about it for a moment. She is not wrong.
"You would lose some of that cum of yours and I can be your breeding bunny. That's a win-win."
"I don't see the harm in that."
As soon as you agree, Minji straddles your lap.
"Finally I'm gonna get some cum in my belly."
She whispers, before kissing your lips.
You hold onto her thighs to steady her on top of you. Her soft, creamy skin feels smooth underneath your palm.
Minji grinds on you, rubbing her center against your own. She can feel your hard cock in your pants, which makes her even wetter. As she imagines, how you would cum in her, you start to attack the flawless skin on her neck.
You immediately realize, that Minji only has one goal in mind. She already starts to undo your belt. Having sex is just a way to get what she wants. It's just a means to an end. You wonder if that's the role she is playing, or if that's actually her.
You lift your hips as you feel Minji pull off your pants and your underwear in one go.
"I'm sorry, but I don't have time to suck you off."
The Korean girl's breathing becomes faster as she reaches for your cock.
"I just need your cum in me. As soon as possible."
She let's some spit fall out of her mouth and onto your dick. Her hand makes sure that it's all wet. Still a little surprised at her speed, you are only able to watch as she lifts her hips.
"Get them off me. Please."
She sighs, while waiting for you to pull her pants down as well. The black fabric is tighter around her body as you expected. It takes a second to peel her shorts off of her. She isn't wearing panties, only a small stripe of hair decorates her lower region.
"Put it in already."
Her demands turn into whines as she waits for you to act. You guide her hips towards you, while Minji points your cock at her entrance. As she sinks onto you, you feel her snatch taking in your dick. Minji's walls have a tight grip on you as she lowers herself further.
"If I knew you were so big, I would've taken my time with it."
She sighs as you run your hands along the smooth skin of her thighs.
"I wish I could've felt these around my head."
You tease her as you squeeze her thighs slightly.
Minji sighs heavily, already stuffed with half of your cock. She leans forward, pressing her clothed chest into your face. You feel her hard nipples graze your cheeks as Minji takes a fistful of your hair.
"I'm such a needy bunny, I know."
She pushes your head further into her chest, while she slowly starts to ride you. When she Minji sinks down on you fully, her face is on level with yours. When she moves upwards, she presses your head into her chest. You take every opportunity to kiss her skin as you feel her pussy around your cock. You can feel Minji relaxing and contracting her muscles with the rhythm of her movements. She really does try her best to make you cum as fast as possible.
You wonder, how long you can hold out, not wanting to see this end too soon. You reach behind her to take handfuls of her cheeks. Minji moans into your mouth.
"Just use me, until you cum."
Before you can answer, you are faced with her black top again. When Minji sinks back onto your cock, she throws her head back, letting her hair look like a waterfall behind her.
You start to take control of her bounces, making her go a little faster. Much to her enjoyment it seems as Minji releases moan after moan.
"Make me ride your cock, baby."
Her walls squeeze you tighter, her pussy desperate to milk you dry.
"Fuck, Minji I-"
"Yes! Yes! Cum in me!"
She feels your cock twitching inside of her. You squeeze her ass harder, trying to hold on a second longer as you practically pull her onto your cock, before pushing her off again.
"Breed me! Breed this little bunny!"
You feel pain on your scalp. The result of Minji trying to hold onto her own high, wanting to climax when you cum as well.  It makes your head roll back too as you try to ease the pain.
"Give it to me! Breed me!"
"Fuck."
You moan as you finally unload inside of Minji. You hold her down, her pussy sealed around your cock tightly. The young woman shakes slightly on top of you as she feels her orgasm washing over her, while your cum floods her insides.
You open your eyes, when you finally come down from your high. Minji's chin rests on your shoulder as she tries to catch her breath. This was quite short. And yet, really good. It's evident that she has some experience. You feel your cock still inside of her as Minji slowly rolls her hips.
"Do you think you can give me a another load? Just to make sure you are breeding me properly?"
You could have said no. Maybe you even should have, knowing that the other two girls are waiting for you. And yet, you can't help yourself.
You wrap your arms around her, trapping Minji against your body. The two of you stay connected as you stand up. Although Minji is small and light it's still hard not to trip. You carry her to the kitchen counter as you feel her lips on your neck.
"Drown my pussy in cum, baby."
She whispers into your ear as you sit her down on the counter. She unlocks her legs behind you, enabling you to take them into your hands.
Minji lies down, her back pressed against the cold surface. She can feel it underneath her jacket. She is still wearing her boots and fishnets as you put her ankles onto your shoulders. You have a great view of Minji's pussy as you let your hands glide along her legs. Your fingers dance over the dark butterflies on her skin, until they reach her waist.
You see the young woman nodding. Her gaze a mixture of excitement and need.
Slightly pressing down on her belly, you almost pull out completely.
Pushing back inside, you hear her pussy making wet sounds. You push your cum further into Minji as you start to rock her world on top of her own kitchen counter.
"Oh fuck! So much cum!"
She feels your warm cum inside of her as you fuck her hard.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Minji arches her back off the stone surface. You hold onto her thighs, feeling one of her ankles slowly slip off your shoulder. The young Korean seems to interpret your actions differently.
"Yes! Put me in a mating press! Breed me!"
She moans loudly, almost shouting. You pull her further towards you, making her ass leave the surface. Leaning over her, you push Minji's legs towards her body. You start to fold her in half. Her boots reach her head and she holds onto her own ankles. You place your hands on the back of her thighs, one directly on her tattoo.
Her pleading face makes you fuck her harder. Now you are slightly above her, hitting even deeper spots.
"Fuck yes! Push your cum further!"
Minji mewls as you keep pounding her. You feel your muscles slowy getting tired as you use all your strength to push into Minji. She looks so sexy like that. Lying on her back, her ankles in her hands, unable to do anything but take your pounding.
Your thumb grazes over her butterflies. You are not a fan of permanent tattoos on women, but fake ones like these are very sexy. This one is quite small, but seductive. You wonder how Ahin would look wih a tattoo. Maybe on her back? A big one?
You lose your thoughts as Minji's pussy brings you back to reality. It squeezes your cock tightly, trying to drain you again. You feel your orgasm approaching as you fuck Minji into the counter.
"Gonna cum!"
You are surprised she cums so early, you expected her to orgasm with you again. She reaches around her anke with her left hand, covering her mouth with her hand.
Minji's head rocks back and forth along with her body as you drive her towards her orgasm.
"Fuck!"
Her scream is muffled, yet audible. Her body shakes, a little harder than the first time, as Minji cums around your cock again. It makes her pussy tighter, bringing you closer towards the edge as well.
"Fuck, Minji. I'm gonna cum in you."
"Yes!"
Her hand has left her mouth as she nods her head vigorously.
"Fill me up again! Breed my little bunny pussy! Give me baby bunnies!"
Not the usual choice of words, when someone begs you to cum in them, but Minji makes it sound somewhat alluring.
You grip harder onto her thighs as you push her legs further towards her. She is one flexible woman, taking your pounding in this position with ease.
"Fuck!"
You hiss as you unload a second time in Minji's pussy.
"Yes! Fill my womb! Cum in me!"
Her hole holds onto you tightly as you shoot rope after rope of cum into her freshly fucked pussy.
"So warm."
Minji sighs as she feels your cum inside of her. You lean over her, pressing her legs against her torso.
"I hope you stay addicted to this. I would love to breed you again."
Minji chuckles, wrapping her hands around your neck, pulling you closer.
"Wait for me after your appointment. And don't waste too much cum on them. They don't know how to appreciate it."
773 notes · View notes
churipu · 2 months
Text
( OO3 ) ★ cat versus cat , choso kamo
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featuring. choso kamo x reader
warnings. cursing, mentions of blood from a cat scratch, choso being such a baby bcs he wants attention, baby talking to an animal // wc: 1.9k
ENTRY ( OO3 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE
"okay, listen — you're pretty, and i'm cute..." "don't even start with me." "we'd be pretty cute together."
tags: @sad-darksoul, @sweeneyblue1, @idkuluka, @colorful-happy-shit
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choso has never felt so much hatred towards a living thing — until a cat came into the picture, destroying that bubble.
in all honesty, he didn't mind cats or any other animals at all. but this cat, which he heard you nicknamed as "cashew", a large ginger tabby. who's obviously stealing the spotlight. choso couldn't believe he was actually getting his spotlight stolen away by some stray cat that you decided to take in one day.
"the cat distribution system," whatsoever as you told him.
well — he doesn't like the cat. cashew. and it probably doesn't like him back, judging from all the constant hisses, and scratches from the said feline.
"cashew, come here, baby." you cooed — and choso found himself standing by the kitchen, watching as the said animal slowly walks over to your, rubbing it's head onto your calves affectionately.
he remembered when he was your baby.
the male narrowed his eyes briefly, eyeing the cat who then hopped onto your lap. making itself comfortable before plopping down, belly exposed — pleading to be scratched, and choso scowled. he couldn't believe how you were pampering the cat who had been living under the same roof for less than a month.
choso stomps over, sitting on the vacant space next to you. and the cat was immediately on alert, it's yellow eyes following choso's every movement before breaking a loud hiss. a warning. to not get close to you.
the feline only stopped when you caressed your finger behind it's ear, and it purrs out loudly in content. tousling over on your lap like it belongs there — and after a few minutes, it looks over to choso. and looks up to you, as if saying that it's fully got your attention.
how badly choso wanted to toss the animal off your lap and laid there instead.
"who's the cutest baby, hm? yes, you are." you murmured in a high pitched voice, scratching the cat's belly lovingly. resulting in choso's bubbling up frustration, "look, cho, it's so adorable."
choso clicks his tongue, his eyes traveling from the cat to you. he didn't have the heart to tell you about it when you looked so pristine playing with the damn cat. he knew how much you love cats. from the constant showing of cat related videos from social media, or to cat motives stuffs, even cat shaped food.
you drew out your phone, snapping pictures of the cat from every different angle possible. choso damn well knew how you had a private album for the said cat, and he had seen the album before under your permission. only to conclude that he wasn't happy at how many cat pictures decorated your gallery — so sometimes, when you aren't looking, the male finds himself taking his pictures with your phone so he could put it into his folder in your gallery.
"baby," he calls out to you.
blatantly ignored. and it hurts his feelings the slightest bit; he tries to call out to you again, and you responded this time. with a soft hum, yet your beautiful e/c eyes were focused on the cat that laid still on your lap, it's paws reaching up to touch your hand.
"can you pay attention to me too?" he questioned, almost whines out at the fact that the cat— cashew —has your full attention, and the boyfriend here was choso.
"in a bit, love," you reply, leaning down onto the feline's tummy to nuzzle it lovingly, "aww, you're so cute, cashew."
the soft purr emitting from the feline for some reason, irked the male, "i need attention," he mumbles out, reaching towards you — and the cat was immediately alarmed by him, sitting straight up on your lap, eyes intently looking over to choso's hovering hand, "what're y'looking at?" he asks the cat.
the ginger tabby hisses once, making a warning to the male. and as choso hovers his hand closer, the cat swung it's paws onto his hand, scratching it — letting out one last hiss. in reflex you pulled the tabby away, looking at choso, who in this predicament, was the victim of assault to that cat.
the action offended choso greatly and he pulled his hand away, wiping the blood with his finger, "does it have any problem with me?" he mutters out angrily, looking at you.
"are you okay, cho?" you scooted closer to the male, who huffs out loudly.
"no." he murmurs, a little delighted that he's finally got your full attention now and the cat was by your other side. delicately licking it's paw, "i'm hurt."
it was a small scratch. but he can't help it, he wanted your attention. and now that he has it, he'd do whatever it takes so you could pamper him — usually, scratches don't bother him. choso would shrug it off, quoting how it was just a flesh wound.
you found yourself chuckling softly at the male's act, "usually you'd brush that off, when did you become such a big baby, cho?" choso almost. almost. pouts, but he didn't — he just leaned himself onto your body, wrapping his arms delicately around your hips.
"ever since we have a third being in this relationship." he muffled out into your stomach.
"but it's so cute, baby . . . look at it," you eyed the cat, which is now looking at you, letting out a soft meow, "aww, my baby."
choso whines softly, pulling you closer to him, not wanting to let you go back to pampering the cat, "i'm cute too." he said, looking up at you — his chin plastered to your stomach gently, "okay, listen — you're pretty, and i'm cute . . ."
rolling your eyes with a vexing smile, you replied, "don't even start with me."
"we'd be pretty cute together." choso ended.
threading your fingers against his dark hair, you tugged on it lightly, "cho, you're my boyfriend — and cashew is just, a cat. 'm not gonna replace you, baby. i promise."
the male sighs out exasperatedly, knowing he's definitely losing this battle against the feline. nodding mutely, he then said, "can't you pay attention to me too? feel like 'm not even there sometimes," he leaned his cheek onto your thigh, almost purring out as your fingers traced over his scalp gently.
"i will, baby. 'm sorry i made you feel like that," you leaned down and kissed his cheek, feeling the guilt finally washing over you as choso's eyelids slowly shut tight and he finally reigned over your lap, leaning into your touch.
"can we cuddle, please?" he asks, voice very hushed that you almost missed it.
"mhm, course we can."
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do we have the attention in the room?
choso sat criss-cross applesauce in front of you and the cat, brows furrowed. fists balled on top of his thighs, watching in annoyance as you peppered the cat's face with kisses.
the male was already annoyed when he woke up from the longed cuddle only to find void by his side — you weren't there with him. you were in the living room with the cat, "'m sorry baby, cashew was crying loudly, i had to go check if something happened."
frankly, he could care less about this "cashew". but he knew, the cat was somehow doing that so you could pamper it.
the cat meows out loudly, looking at choso. it was an innocent look, anyone would swoon over that look from a cat — however, all choso felt was pure anger. as if the cat was looking at him in a mocking way, clicking his tongue, he stood up and walked away without another word. leaving you sitting on the couch as he goes back into the room.
you called out to the male in worry and looked down onto the cat, who was returning the look back at you, "'m sorry cashew, as much as i love you, choso needs me. so be a good boy and don't cry again, okay?" you mumble down, grazing it's small, plump cheek before gently moving it away from your lap.
wasting no time, you trudged over to the room. opening the door softly, peering over the door to take a look at what the male was doing — choso was planted face down on the bed, one of his bulky arm draped over a pillow, and his soft breaths were the only sound you could hear inside the room.
"cho?"
no answer.
you approached the bed cautiously, sliding onto the space beside him, "cho, i know you're not asleep."
choso shifted his head to face you, "what?"
"'m sorry, baby." you brushed his cheek with a small smile, "i can give you attention now — i promise i won't go back out there to cashew," choso hesitantly sat up, narrowing his eyes at you, "don't look at me like that, makes me feel bad."
he latches his finger onto your calves, tugging on your legs lightly before going in between them, laying his head down on your chest, "if you leave me, 'm not gonna talk to you for a week," he mumbles out softly, lips puckered out. he won't last that long.
you giggled, kissing the crown of his head with a soft hum, "okay, baby. noted," he buries his head into your chest, sighing out in content.
choso has never been the one to initiate stuff most of the time. you do. he was kind of . . . like a cat himself, so when you — the initiator, was no longer initiating things. choso grew somehow, desperate. he yearned for you, yet your attention was always on the ginger tabby.
"missed you," he whispered, looking up to meet your eyes lovingly, "missed you so much."
you raised a brow, "we live together baby," he rolled his eyes at your nonchalant reply, holding you tighter as if he's afraid that if he had let go of you right now — you'd stand up and walk back to the cat, who god knows what it's doing alone now.
"yeah, but i never got your attention." he mutters.
"my baby," you cooed down. your high pitched voice made choso's heart flutter, he was enlighted, "'m sorry you felt like that, y'have my attention now."
choso smiles softly, he didn't need anything. just you.
meow.
choso was visibly alarmed, raising his head up, he saw the ginger feline peeking it's small head over your bed. it's paw tapping the surface of your bed a couple of times before it hops up with ease, trotting over to the both of you.
you eyed the cat with a small smile, and it grazes it's head onto your upper arm. looking at choso, it walks over to the male who cringes back lightly as the cat comes closer into his view, "what does it want from me?"
choso squinted it's eyes, ready for another scratch. but to his surprise, the feline sniffed his fingers for a few seconds, with no signs of hostility before bumping it's head onto his digits. the male looks at you, "is it . . . it is cursed?"
as if the feline could understand, it hisses at choso. trotting over to the male and hopping on his back, you smiled at the scene playing in front of you, "get off of me, you . . . stupid cat."
the said cat was unbothered, yawning with a small mewl before circling around choso's back and stopped on the hollow of his back. slowly loafing on it, purring softly, "i think he's grown to like you now," you whispered, taking a picture of both choso and the cat.
choso sighs out loudly, "it's an act, 'm telling you."
"cho, give cashew a chance."
the male grumbled but let the cat lay there on his back, "okay, since you told me to."
"i love you," you laugh, kissing the tip of his nose and choso shuts his eyes again, leaning his head onto your chest.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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fanttasttica · 5 months
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One plus one makes three
Rhysand x reader
After your one night stand with the High lord, you hadn't expected to see him ever again, but fate had other plans. You are pregnant, carrying the High lord's first child and you need to tell him. How is he going to react? And what will that mean for you?
Warnings: nothing (I think.. If you find anything, please let me know :D )
Words: 4129
Authors note: Thanks for participanting inthe voting! Since this idea got the most votes, i wrote it first. My next story will be on theme "enemies to lovers" :D
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You weren't that type of a girl who got drunk every weekend and had a sex with males whose names you haven't bothered to learn. No.. So why was the universe punishing you for this? It was one night, only one. You were celebrating your birthday with some friends at Rita's, when you spotted the most beautiful male that ever existed. He was tall, seemed strong and there was this dark aura around him. He was undoubtedly powerful, but instead of fearing him, something dragged you to him. After some time you were watching each other from afar, he came up to you and asked you to dance. It was during your time on the dancing floor, when you found out it was no other than High lord or the Night cour, your High lord. It was the first time you saw him, the first time you talked to him and you thought it would also be probably the last. Maybe you ended up in his bed that night, but it was supposed to be only a one night stand, but fate decided otherwise. 
You weren't feeling well for a couple of days. Your friends were pushing you to see a healer and today you finally gave in. You visited your healer on the other side of the town, thinking she will brush it off, tell you to rest for another couple of days and eat chicken broth, you hated, but no. This wasn't only some illness you could get rid of after a few days. This would last for at least a couple of months and then the real fun would begin. You were pregnant. Carrying an heir to the Night court in your womb. Your stomach was still flat and if it weren't for your morning sickness and tiredness, you wouldn't have noticed you were pregnant yet. After finding that out, you thanked and said goodbye to your healer, leaving in a hurry. As if running from her would also mean that you would run from your situation. Unfortunately for you, that didn't happen. Symptoms still bothered you in the following days, reminding you about how screwed you were. 
“What are you going to do?” Your friends were curious, of course. And honestly you were too. “I have no idea. I am.. I only saw him once.” You answered her while running your hand through your hair. “Yeah, you saw him once. You slept with him once and you ended up pregnant.. I can't believe your luck.” It was hard to say if she was speaking ironically or not, because you wouldn't call yourself lucky. This wasn't some blessing. You weren't against children, you actually liked them and hoped one day you will have one, this was simply quite early for you and certainly with the wrong man. He maybe was a High lord, but you were an ordinary fae. He probably already forgot about your existence. “I don't even know how to contact him. Should I go back to Rita's in the hope I will meet him there? Should I send him a letter and tell him about this? And what should I write in it? Do I really have to tell him?” Not telling him anything and running to another court was an idea you were also toying with. “You can not possibly mean that! He deserves to know. And besides that, lies or secrets are always exposed in the end. He is the most powerful High lord of all times.. Do you really think you can keep this as a secret your whole life? Your kids' whole life?” You sighed in defeat and shook your head. “No, that's stupid.. I.. I just need another few days to collect my thoughts and think about ways to contact and tell him.” 
Few days passed by and you still weren't sure what to do. Why does it have to be so complicated? If he weren't the High lord, you would already have told him. It would make everything so much easier for both of you. It was pointless to cry over a spilled milk, but you couldn't help yourself, blaming it on your hormones. One day, you had enough of it. Enough of hiding in your room, crying and cursing on him and yourself. You were determined to find him, tell him about this and return home, so you could finally have some good rest without constantly thinking about this, because currently you were losing your head. You decided to try to find Rhysand again at Rita's. It seemed better to ask him for a minute there than marching to his house and demanding he would see you. You friends were supportive, not leaving you to be all alone. There always was at least one of them by your side, although you weren't finding it necessary, it was a nice gesture you appreciated. The first night you spent here looking for you, you hadn't had any luck, likewise the second or third night. But after sitting on the bar stool for the fourth night in a row, you finally saw him. He was talking to his friends, with a smile on his handsome face, unaware that his life was about to change drastically. 
Your heart started beating faster than ever before. In normal situations, you were a calm person, but obviously not today. “You should hurry and go speak to him, before other girls start to throw themself on him.” You swallowed hard.“Yeah.. I am going right now.” You tried to put on a neutral face and started walking towards him, even though everything in you screamed to run away. Suddenly, you were standing right before him and his friends, who were measuring you with interest in their eyes. You simply nodded at them in greeting and looked at the High lord. “You probably don't remember me, but we met here a while ago.. And I need to speak with you. It's urgent. ” At first you were worried he was going to send you away. He raised one eyebrow, but nodded and put away his drink, following you outside. Cold air hit you immediately, so you hugged yourself, before turning to face him. “I remember you, don't worry.” You weren't expecting that. “Yeah.. that's good.” It made a few things easier for you. Now you know there isn't a need to explain to him when you met and what you did together that night. “So? What did you need to tell me?” He was curious, of course. Maybe expecting you to try to seduce him, as many girls certainly did in the past, but there was nothing that could prepare him for this. “I am pregnant and it's yours.” 
There weren't many people who managed to surprise the High lord of the Night court. And even the least people managed to surprise him so much that he couldn't think of a reaction for the first few seconds. He was stunned, looking at you as if you were from another unknown world, so you took word once again. “To be honest.. I expected a worse reaction..” You sighed and looked at the ground. “I don't want anything from you. I want and will keep the baby, but if you don't want to, you don't have to be involved in the baby's life. I have people who will help me and also have enough money to take care of it. So.. It's up to you.” And with that, you left him standing outside alone, returning to your friends.
“How did it go? Did he take it well?” Immediately after your return, you were flooded with questions. You shrugged and drank water from your glass. “He was clearly surprised. I told him I don't expect anything from him and assured him it's his choice, if he wants to be involved or not and then left.” They laughed. “You told him this and just left him standing there alone? Oh my Cauldron, I would pay to see his face.” Maybe you would also laugh at this, only if it weren't you who was in this situation. You put one of your hands on your stomach. It was weird and also.. magical, knowing that right now, you are creating a new life. “He returned to his friends and is talking with them.” Your friend whispered to your ears. You could feel several pairs of eyes watching you. Shaking your head, you smiled at them. “Let's talk about something else for a while and try to enjoy this night.” You desperately needed some distraction and opportunity to think about anything else. In the end, the reason why you were here today was done and you deserved some break from this too. 
The next day, you were woken up by the Sun. After you forgot to close the curtains last night, there was nothing that could stop morning rays from tickling your eyes. Like any other day before, you were thinking, if you weren't dreaming this whole time, but morning sickness was clear evidence that in fact you were not. After brushing your teeths and hair, you dressed up, put on black leggings and your favorite jumper, you were ready for the day. For the last couple of days, you took time off from your job. It wasn't that hard,since you were running a small bakery with your friends and they almost forced you to stay at home. But today, you were determined to return. You wanted to start living normally again. There isn't a chance that you will spend a whole pregnancy locked in your room. You will take things slowly, so there is no chance for something to happen and it will all be good. 
Your day has been going just fine. After coming to work, you could finally be able to feel like a few weeks ago, like nothing was going on. Well, that was until the bell rang, announcing the arrival of another customer you should greet. After you look up, you find no one other than the High lord himself. “Shouldn't you be resting?” You raised your eyebrow. “Hello to you too.. I assure you I am rested well enough.” He came closer, the only thing between you was a counter, behind which you stood. “You don't need to work. I will take care of both of you.” You shook your head. “There is no need for that. I can work, what's more important, I want to work. I love my job.” Something in his face told you, he took this as a challenge. “You are pregnant with my child. I think I should have a say in this matter.” This whole conversation was uncomfortable for both of you. You both were very determined to do it in your way. And the fact that you were strangers had not been helping at all. You didn't know how to treat each other. “Then I guess we need to find some compromise.”
You weren't exactly thrilled with how some things turned out in the end, but on the other hand, it could be worse. After a long talk with Rhysand, how he told you to call him, you end up agreeing to stop working when you are halfway through your pregnancy, but that is not all. During those few weeks you will still be working, there will always be someone with you, during your shift. Practically, members of Rhys's Inner circle were supposed to babysit you. You knew it would be very unusual for you, but you were hoping that in a couple of days you will be able to ignore them or befriend them. You also agreed on moving in with Rhysand and his Inner circle, three weeks before the baby was supposed to be born and staying for at least a couple of months. “Honestly, I am surprised that you want to be so involved..” You mumbled. You two were talking almost your whole shift, which was coming to the end right now. “It's my baby, of course I want to be involved. We have to take care of her or him. Which brings me to my last point today.” He took your silence as a cue to continue. “We should get married.” You weren't sure what you were expecting, but this was certainly not it. Almost dropping a tray with two last gingerbreads, you turned to face him. His face was serious, there was no sign that he was just kidding, but you laughed lightly even so. “Good one. I am not marrying only because I am pregnant.” But he didn't let you brush that off so easily. “Why? It would be better. You would live in luxury for the rest of your life and I would have an heir.” Without this union, this baby would only be a bastard in the others eyes, you were aware of that, but you couldn't do this. “I already told you, I am comfortable with the life I am living. I don't need jewelry or fancy dresses. I was always determined to marry for love or not at all. And I am not changing my mind.” 
The weeks passed one by another. As Rhys promised, from the very next day, his friends started accompanying you, during your work. Sometimes, it was Morrigan you befriended quite quickly. It was because of her friendly personality. She was treating you like a friend from the start, promising you to always help you with the baby. Almost every time she came, she was bringing something for you or the baby. You It almost didn't make sense for you to go shopping for things for the baby since she was the one doing it. Then there were Cassian and Azriel. They also were friendly, but it took a little longer to get used to them, but after you started feeding them sweets from your shop, they warmed up to you and you were chatting like an old friend. The last person who you saw maybe two times was Amren. She wasn't rude, but when she was there, she was doing her own work and since you didn't want to disturb her, you hadn't talked so much. As for Rhys, he was visiting you every other day before and after your shift. The communication between you two was better and sometimes, you caught yourself staring at him, when he was talking to his friends and since that was exactly what got you into this situation in the first place, you weren't happy with yourself. 
“This is your last day, isn't it?” Morrigan was sitting on a table, smiling at you as you were counting the money before closing the register. “Yeah.. I still can't believe it.” You were half through your pregnancy and your bump was already showing a little. Fortunately, the morning sickness and tiredness have passed you by now. You were feeling great. “I don't know what I am going to do with my free time.” She shrugged. “You can read.. Paint.. Shop for the baby..” You chuckled at the last thing. “Thanks to you, the baby has more than enough clothes. And I pursue all my hobbies even when I am working.. Rhys is thinking that I will only lay in bed, eat and sleep, but that's simply not possible. I would lose my head after one week.” She smiled at you sympathetically. “My cousin behaves sometimes like a mother hen. I believe you, when you say it's annoying.. But you have to endure it only for another couple of weeks..” That wasn't helping. “I am not like a mother hen. I don't know what you two are talking about.”  You only noticed Rhysand, who was leaning against the door frame, now. “Yeah, you are worse.” You mumbled, after recovering from the shock he gave you. “You are hurting my feelings, dear Y/N.” You pursed your lips at him. “How are you going to recover from this?” His laughter filled the room and forced you to chuckle a little bit too. “When will you two finally get together? You are perfect for each other.” Neither of you answered her. 
As you expected, you were bored only after a week of not working. Sure, you had your friends and also new friends from Inner circle, but it wasn't enough. They also had work and their lives. So you decided to go bother the man who was responsible for your boredom, Rhysand. You already visited his home, he gave you permission to come and go as you pleased, so you decided to pay him a visit today with some sweet desserts from the bakery for him and a jar of pickles for you. The other symptoms of pregnancy passed, but this one, love for pickles, remained. You knocked twice on the mahagon door that led to his office and waited for his response, before opening them and walking in. “I am bored and it's your fault.” Rhys leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “How is that my fault?” He obviously wasn't understanding your logic. Maybe it was because he was a male or maybe because his brain was not affected by hormones. “You didn't want me to work anymore, so I don't have anything to do and in addition to that, I am already sick of some things that I normally like! It's frustrating.” You sat on the chair across from him. “I need to finish these papers, but once I am done, I actually know what we could do together.. Until then, you are welcome to stay.” You thought about it for a while and nodded. “Okay, I will wait. And I would almost forget. This is for you. Morrigan told me you like this.” You moved the dessert tray across the table in front of him. He looked surprised and also very happy. “Thank you, it's nice of you, but you didn't have to do that.” You shrugged, picked up one pickle and ate it before replying to him. “I wanted you. Sweet is good for the nerves. And you'll need a lot of nerve to put up with my moods.”
There was a comfortable silence. Rhys was working, you were eating pickles and watching him. During this time, you found out some other new things about him. For example, every time he tried to concentrate intensely, he furrowed his brow, when he was thinking about something, he tapped his pen on the table.. “I didn't know I was so interesting to you.” You blinked a few times, before you realized he probably noticed that you were staring directly at him for the past few minutes. “I was just thinking how can I protect our child from inheriting your crooked nose.” He chuckled and looked at you, still smiling. “Your love for me is touching.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Are you almost done? I am running out of pickles.” He put the papers aside and nodded. “Lucky for you, yes. We can go now.”
You had to admit that his house was beautiful. It was so spacious, but cozy at the same time. It felt like home. During the tour Rhys gave you, you were imagining your life here. Imagining a little girl running around the corridors and Rhysand following her, while they are both laughing.. “There are only two other rooms I want to show you.” You offered him a small smile, “Okay, lead the way.” After climbing a few stairs, you reached the next floor of the house Rhys walked to the end of the corridor. “This is my room and right next to it..” He opened the door and let you walk in first. You gasped at the sight before you. It was a nursery. The walls were white and decorated with painted gold stars. Everything was ready. Closets full of baby clothes and other necessary things. Crib was in the middle of the room, filled with some stuffed animals and more blankets than needed. Tears welled up in your eyes. “It's so beautiful! Did you do it by yourself?” You asked, turning to Rhysand who was watching you with a happy expression. “Most of the things, although Cassian and Azriel had to help me to build the crib.. I am the most powerful High lord, but that thing is terrible.” You laughed at the idea of ​​the three strongest Illyrian warriors having trouble assembling a crib. “And Morrigan got the clothes.” You nodded, recognizing some pieces. “Thank you, really.” He walked towards you and carefully took your hand to his. “You don't have to thank me. I was happy to do it. After all, I promised you that I would spoil both you and the child.” The fact that your child was going to be spoiled was certain. And probably no amount of strictness couldn't prevent that. “As for spoiling you.. I also have room ready for you.”
It wasn't until Rhys pointed them out that you noticed a door not far from the crib. “This door leads to your room. And the door opposite.. to mine, so I can come and help you with the baby during the night or you can easily come to my room, if you would need it at any time.” It was practical, better than having to run to the hall and knock on his door there. “Are you ready to see it?” With this, he caught your attention once again. “Of course.” 
You fell in love with your room the first second you walked in. Rhys made sure the walls were painted in your favorite color. There was a table, not so far from the window. On the other side is a bookcase with a rocking chair next to it. The walk-in closet was the same size as your bathroom, which was as luxurious as everything else. “Okay.. Now I am really looking forward to moving in here.” You joked and lay on your big bed. Blanket was so soft you wanted nothing else than getting tangled up in it and never getting out. Rhys sat on your bed, watching you with a grin. “And I thought you said you didn't need a life of luxury..” He said playfully. As a response, you slapped him gently on his hand. “I don't need it. But I have to admit, it's nice.” You sat up and rested your head on his shoulder. He hugged you, with one of his hands, around your waist and placed his hand on your stomach, stroking it gently. “Only the best for you.”
Many weeks passed and now.. As you predicted, you were holding a baby girl in your arms. Your and Rhysand's baby girl. Your birth was quite easy, thankfully. You were happy. Rhys was all over the moon, not leaving you alone for one minute. The others were not better, they pushed each other away, only to get a better view of her, before Madja told them to leave, since you need to rest. So now, it was only you, Rhys and your little star. “I know I already said it.. But thank you.” You looked in his eyes and smiled. “I thank you. Afterall, this takes two.” Although most of the job was done by you, Rhys was amazing to you this whole time. Treating you like a queen. “I am really.. glad for this. Finding out I was going to be a father was shocking, I will not lie, but.. I am just really happy.” Hearing this made your heart jump with joy. “Yeah.. I am too. I am glad I met you. And I have to admit.. I grew fond of you.” He chuckled deeply and kissed the top of your head. “Does that mean you will marry me then? And I assure you.. I am not asking out of some obligation, because we have a child together.” Rhys was ready to give you time to think, but you didn't need it. It wasn't love at first sight with him. You were falling in love with him for a while, but now you were sure that he was your happy ending. Well.. him and your daughter. That's why there wasn't a trace of hesitation when you answered him, “I will.”
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thelargefrye · 9 months
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CARNAGE : HOW MONSTER!TEEZ FUCKS YOU … mature head canons
pairing : monster!ateez x f!reader
genre : monster au, mature, head canons
word count : 1k
warnings : language, mentions of cannibalism / human eating monsters
smut warnings : monster cock!ateez, unprotected sex, oral, sensory deprivation, breeding kink, marking (scratching), slight auralism, temperature play, double penetration, aphrodisiac pheromones, strength kink (i think i got everything!)
notes : inspired by @atiny-piratequeen and her ataraxia universe! sorry for always tagging you fie, probably will tag you one more time when i get the actual first chapter out
suffer with me tag : @sanjoongie also thank you for helping with deciding on what monster each member should be
how each monster!teez boys fucks you, as you have jointed down in your recent book on monsterfucking. please note that this is written as if you would find notes for a book or something!
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ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ GORGON!HONGJOONG
DO NOT MAKE DIRECT EYE CONTACT WITH HIM!! – make sure their blindfold or yours stays on at ALL TIMES.
mostly fucks like any other human
no out of the ordinary autonomy; however, he does benefit greatly from sensory deprivation from his blindfold he always wears.
switching up and wearing a blindfold inside also heightens the other partners pleasure.
gorgons are not heavy into breeding and seem to not have any exact mating ritual or time compared to other monsters.
be careful when pulling his hair – the snakes bite!
also beware of them when a gorgon gives oral, snakes will also nip at your thighs... feels like being pinched... more annoying than anything.
forked-tongue. feels amazing. snakes still pinch though...
ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ KING GHIDORAH!SEONGHWA
not a dragon... but note he has several dragon-like qualities.
please note the hair color seonghwa has before proceeding with sex... they each have slightly different qualities but are generally the same overall
pink haired one is more lazy – you will do better at doing the work for the two of you.
black haired one feels the need to be in charge.
i think it's cause he is the middle head. does best performing oral and going rough.
blond haired one is the softer lover of the three.
eye contact is a must with him.
do NOT try to assert dominance over any of them! they do not like it!!
has a breeding kink it seems like it, but i don't think he will admit to it... will growl if teasing about being breed.
seonghwa is the largest monster in the book... standing at around 15,880 centimeters in his monster form and 365 centimeters in humanoid form.
cock is large, prepping yourself is key to taking him
only one of his kind... will find more about origins later on...
ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ BANSHEE!YUNHO
banshees are moaners, very loud whether topping or bottoming
have sharp claws that will rip clothing
they will also leave marks on skin... does not hurt too bad unless gone feral.
like the gorgons, no out of the ordinary autonomy
however male banshees appear to be rarer and larger than female ones
yunho stands at around 213 centimeters... taller than hongjoong and any human... same height as mingi.
talks a lot during sex... will tell you what he wants to do and what he will do
voice is very soothing... helps you relax similar to wooyoung's pheromones
ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ PHOENIX!YEOSANG
BEWARE! PHOENIX IS GUARDED BY A GUMIHO!
yeosang's body temperature is hotter than a normal humans.
temperature play seems to be a big thing... unsure if yeosang can control his body temp... will find out more about this later
will tease you and loves edging
phoenix performs well with his fingers and tongue... will have to do it again soon
has also displayed traits of breeding... however phoenixes do not breed normally
yeosang in his phoenix form is around 1,188 centimeters and his humanoid form is 274 centimeters
performing oral is the best way to make his submit
will be tag teamed with the gumiho – double penetration
special note: was gifted one of his feathers... reason unknown.
ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ DULLAHAN!SAN
san stands at around 182 centimeters... around an average human male height
he removed his head to perform oral while his body fucked throat
deep-throating, will feel cock in your throat
will fuck on horseback... rather scary... would recommend trying it once
loves to grope... will grope every part of you if you let him
loves to be close when fucking... san is a very loving partner
dullahans are also very loyal?? now san kind of patrols around the area near the cottage... interesting.
ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ FAERIE!MINGI
BEWARE!! FAERIES WILL ATTEMPT TO EAT YOU IF YOU LET YOUR GUARD DOWN!!
they love challenges so if you want to fuck one, make it a game
mingi says faeries vary in height and he is one of the more taller ones... some of them can be as small as 91 centimeters
rather unbelievable stamina and can go multiple rounds
mating press is the best position for mingi
have heard faeries have two cocks... will do more research on this
faeries also appear to have several mating rituals... make sure to not get mated to one! several fuck to mate and breed one person for life!
mingi has now decided to make camp in my living area... him and hongjoong get along quite well.
ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ PLANT MONSTER!WOOYOUNG
BEWARE!! MOST PLANT MONSTERS ARE MAN-EATING!!
wooyoung's monster form stands at around 609 centimeter while his human-looking form stands at 172 centimeters... same height as hongjoong
will use his vines as restraints
will also use vines to to fuck you – they vary in thickness
also produces aphrodisiac pheromones to calm his partner
his vines also produce a sort of liquid when he comes... makes your body slick with it
wonder what it taste like... maybe next time
wooyoung has also started a garden near the cottage where i found him... little plants that look like his monster form... will investigate further into this.
special note: has a lovely green hue over his skin in some areas
ཐིiཋྀ ⸻ GUMIHO!JONGHO
BEWARE! THEY EAT HUMAN HEARTS AND LIVERS!
jongho's gumiho form is around 9,997 centimeters and 304 centimeters in his humanoid form
weakness to getting him to submit is to scratch behind his ears... very cute when submissive
likes to show off strength... be prepared to be moved around a lot in different positions
jongho is very protective of the phoenix, yeosang, will do anything to protect him... do not try to threaten the phoenix if you wish to keep your life!
special note: can seemingly materialize his tails at will... doesn't have more than two at a time unless trying to assert dominance.
will have to do more research on all of them again at a later date. will add new entries and notes as i gather more research.
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tag list (bold is unable to tag) : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @rdiamond2727 @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @kryybebe @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frogogh @marsanhwa @kryukyustar @sookacc @seongwin @melomatz @songmingisthighs @ad0rechuu
network : @cultofdionysusnet
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houseofanticipation · 6 months
Text
You're sitting with your friend Sam at a coffee shop, catching up. She's telling you about an instagram ad she keeps getting for some audiobook streaming service. "It's just crazy," she says, "because I was just telling Lucille I wanted to start reading more books but I never have the time, and then it's like instantly I'm getting these ads all the time."
"So what," you say over your steaming mug, "you think they're listening to you?"
Sam shakes her head. "Honestly I think it's almost scarier than that. They have so much information about us, they don't even need to listen to our conversations. They just know, based on everything they've gathered about me, that I'm probably someone who wants to listen to audiobooks."
"Well they can't be that smart," you say. "Because the only ads I've been getting lately are for something called Slut Cream."
Sam raises an eyebrow. "You must know I'm going to need more details."
You take out your phone and find an ad to show her. It's not difficult; literally all of the ads you see on instagram are like this. They're even showing up in other places now, on webpages you visit or apps you use. This one is one you've seen before: a beautiful woman in a crop top that just barely covers her nipples is proudly displaying a squeeze tube of the kind you'd buy sunscreen or toothpaste in. The caption says, "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle! Step up your slut game with Slut Cream! Shop Now"
"I don't even know what slut cream is," you say. "All you get when you look it up is a bunch of porn."
"Well, obviously it's a way to step up your slut game," says Sam sagely. "What does it say on the website?"
"Oh, I'm not clicking the link," you say. "I don't want to encourage them! What I want to know is why suddenly this ad is all I can seem to see!"
Sam shoots you a wink. "Maybe you're just a slut. These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."'
What neither of you know is that it's actually quite easy to buy online ad space, and they let you get pretty specific with your intended audience.
I live in the next apartment over from you. I've been watching you for a long time, studying you, listening to you through our shared wall. We've talked a few times, some terse conversation at the mailboxes or in the hall, which is how I knew enough about you to place those ads, with audience parameters so specific that probably only you and about five other people would see them. I had fun making them; hiring the model to do the photoshoot, dusting off the skills I picked up in that college graphic design course, creating a website for this fake business (though I'm disappointed you still haven't clicked through to see it). If you actually tried to buy slut cream, the website would tell you we're currently closed due to high traffic, and to check back later. Nowhere on the website does it explain what slut cream is.
A number of strange things happen to you over the course of the following day. On your lunch break you walk down the block to the deli by your office. You're in here every weekday, but today the energy here is different. People are staring you, side-eyeing you, having whispered conversations that stop abruptly when you get too close. As you're walking back to work, an old woman spits on the ground as you pass, you'd swear you heard the word "whore!" hissed under her breath. You wonder if you should say something, stand up for yourself, but she's elderly, probably confused, and you decide to be the bigger person.
In the hours after lunch, you're propositioned by no less than seven of your male coworkers. You've had to refuse a few invitations to dinner in your time, but seven in a day is completely out of the ordinary, and the things these men are offering to do to you go way outside the bounds of first date stuff. One guy tells you the conference room is empty, if you want to go for a quick fuck; another guy tells you he hasn't cum in a month, and if you sucked his cock he'd pump so much cum down your throat that you wouldn't need to eat dinner. Your boss even tells you he and his wife are looking for a third and he thought of you first, like he's offering you a big promotion. The strangest thing is that all of these men seem genuinely surprised when you turn them down. Like this sort of thing usually works with girls. One guy even says, "sorry, I was just trying to help."
It was pretty easy to hire actors for the deli and the street. You go to the same place every day, so I knew where they'd have to go and roughly when they'd need to be there. The harder part was getting your coworkers to play along, especially because I was picky about getting people who could sell the act. For a few of them all it took was money. A few of them I had to blackmail. For your boss I had to call in a favor, get his boss to threaten his job. He protested, but I think it made his cock hard, thinking about fucking you alongside his wife.
I keep this up for a few weeks. Anywhere you go I have people watching you, talking about you behind your back. I have people approaching you on the train, at the park, in restaurants, offering to fuck you like they're doing you a favor. You stay firm in your refusal—I wouldn't have expected any less from you—but I can tell it's beginning to eat at you. I watch you try to figure out what you're doing that seems to give all these people the wrong idea about you; you start to dress more modestly, talk less, even walk a little less confidently. But none of this will change anything. All it will do is make you feel more repressed.
After a month, I decide it's time to make my move. I could probably wait longer, but the anticipation is getting too much for me, and besides, you're beginning to get a little wild around the eyes. I'd hate to break you before I've had my fun. One evening, when I know you're home, I unlock your apartment with the duplicate key I had made two months ago. You're in the kitchen, washing dishes with headphones on; you didn't hear me come in. I leave the door open as I approach you, admiring the way you shake your ass to whatever it is you're listening to. I get right up behind you and stay there for a moment, lavishing in your innocence, feeling my cock strain at my belt as I imagine taking it away from you. Then I reach around front of you with both arms and plunge my hand into your panties
You shout in shock, fight back, try to push me off as the headphones fall off your head. But I've got you pinned against the counter, my full body weight against you, one hand down your pants, the other groping your breasts. Once you realize that fighting won't help, you stop struggling and ask me what I want. "Please," you say. Just hearing that quiver in your voice almost makes me delirious with lust. "Please, let me go. I don't want this, please."
I bury my face in your neck, kissing and breathing you in. You smell incredible, like fear and sweat and sex. I bring my lips up to your ear, let them brush against you as I speak. "Of course you want this, baby. You've been trying so hard to hide it, but you don't have to hide with me. Look, you left the door open for me." I let you turn your head enough to see the door hanging open just as my fingers find your clit. I'm rubbing you gently, tenderly, just the way I've watched you touch yourself through the webcam I have in your room. My other hand is under your shirt now and I'm squeezing your breast, rolling your nipple between my fingers, feeling it slowly grow full and erect. You try to stifle a soft moan and I kiss your neck again. "It's okay, baby. You don't have to be ashamed. It's okay to want to feel good. Let me make you feel good."
You clutch your face in your hands and let out a cry of frustration and humiliation and agony and pleasure. You barely know me; I'm the guy next door who sometimes looks at you a little too long. The guy you speed up to avoid in the hall. But that feeling radiating from you clit... You think how exhausting it's been, doing everything you could think of to change people's perception of you, get them to stop looking at you as a slut, how none of it has done you any good anyway. You wonder if you'd have had more fun fucking Jim in the conference room, or swallowing Dylan's cum, or having a threesome with your boss and his wife. And that throbbing in your clit, the agonizing pleasure...You remember that beautiful woman in the ad: "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle!" You think about how happy she looked, how fulfilled. You remember Sam's words: "These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."
It does feel good, doesn't it? To let me touch you, pleasure you, to let go of this act you've been holding on to. Isn't it okay to want to feel good? Why did you ever let anyone make you ashamed of that? You try out another moan, letting the pleasure well up through your chest and out your mouth. It feels good, so you try another, and another, and then you're leaning back into me, grinding up against me, delighting in the feeling of my hard cock against your ass.
"Good," I say. "You're letting go of those silly hang-ups. Now we can have our real fun." My hands still around you, controlling you, I half lead-half carry your trembling body to the bedroom. I throw you on the bed, face up so I can get a good look at your eyes, see what I've done to your mind. Those same eyes that have avoided me in the hall so many times now gaze hungrily up at me, wanting me, needing me.
Who am I do decline?
I pull off your pants and panties as a single unit, letting you take care of your shirt for yourself. I kick of my own bottoms, letting my throbbing cock slap against your leg as it springs from its confinement. Don't think I don't notice the way your whole body shivers when it touches you. I lift your legs and push your knees up towards your ears; you're remarkably flexible. It must be all that yoga I've watched you do at the place downtown. I've greatly enjoyed your visits to that place, so it's nice to see they weren't in vain.
You're afraid of me, all of a sudden. Maybe some part of you is seeing sense, realizing you'd have to be crazy to let a guy like me come into your home and fuck you like this. But what was the alternative? Have me rape you? Let me tell you, darling: I would have raped you. You feel the head of my cock gliding over your skin, exploring your inner thighs and pubic area, and tremble at my touch. I want this, you tell yourself. This is what a slut like me needs.
All the same, you cry a little bit when I penetrate you. It's not because it hurts—it does hurt a bit, but you're wet enough, and it's not entirely a bad pain. It's not because you're afraid—well, maybe in part, but that's not the core of it. You cry because you're finally letting go. Letting go of the person you used to be, or thought you were. It's the relief of knowing you don't have to pretend anymore, wrapped up with the mourning you feel when you lose a potential version of yourself. I lean across you as my cock fills you up, and tenderly, I kiss away your tears. "Hush, my darling. I'm here. I will always be here. I will love you despite what you are, when everyone else turns away in disgust."
My weight on you feels good, comforting. The way I press down on your legs, stretching you out, driving my cock so deep inside you that it brushes your cervix. It hurts a little, but is that any better than you deserve? Could a slut like you really expect to find better than this? Better than unconditional love and a desire to give you the pleasure you need?
I'm speeding up now, my face something like an animal, furious and insistent as I gaze down at you. There's darkness behind my eyes, you think, something cold and cruel. You thank God I'm on your side. My hips are like a hammer on your pelvis now, and with each thrust you feel my cock bulging inside you, throbbing and pulsating with anticipation. When I finally plant my seed in you, groaning and growling and pressing you further into the bed, you find there's something comforting about the warmth of my cum inside you. Maybe my seed will take root, make you swell up with me, make you mine. As I roll off you, huffing and panting, the tears begin to stream down your face again, this time from joy.
What did a slut like you ever do to deserve someone who loves you like I do?
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tobyfier · 4 days
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The Mailman
Ah yes, the mailman. The new resident in the apartment, the complete opposite of milkman, aka Francis Mosses. How does Francis feel about the new person in the apartment? Will he hate him or not? Continue reading to find out!
;Male Reader
(P.s English is not my first language, feel free to correct my mistakes!This is also written from Francis’ pov)
ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★
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I didn’t exactly know how to feel about the new resident of the apartment, however I did know his name. M/n L/n was it? Yes, I thinks so. He was..energetic to say the least, quite the surprise considering the current situation about doppelgängers. The other residents didn’t seem to mind his personality, in fact they all seem to like him a lot..If I had to be honest I envy him.
I mean who wouldn’t? He’s nice,energetic,approachable,and pretty charming. Not to mention he seems to enjoy his job as a mailman, while I’m stuck here being the boring milkman. Nobody really approaches me, saying I look intimidating and not much of a social guy..rude but technically yeah, I could care less about socializing and I only want to finish my job for the day so that I could go home, I never really had much of an interest for romance or socializing with other people. But he seems to be the complete opposite, whenever we was by each other he would always flash me a smile and greet me. I never really say hi back but he doesn’t seem to mind that at all. And whenever he delivers a message or package he would always make small talks with the person, whether it be how their day was or how the weather looks nice. Sometimes I wonder how someone can be so sociable with others.
One time he started talking to me ranting something about space and how he likes stars, he wouldn’t stop ranting. And so I told him to stop talking and left..the next day I was doing my usual job as a milkman, delivering milk to people who ordered when I saw him going house to house delivering a mail or a package. And when we went pass each other, I expected him to ignore me considering I rudely left him on the street yesterday. But he greeted me morning as usual..he’s such a strange and unpredictable man.
Few weeks later..
“Hm..” I hummed as I press the doorbell of the house, I put the bottle of milk down and continued walking to the next house. I could already hear the person talk about how much of a loner I am, just like the other houses..ugh I just want this deliveries to get done fast so I can go home and lay down on my bed..Ah there he is again with his upbeat personality, as usual. How can someone talk so much, if I ever tried that I would be tired before I can even manage to say a paragraph. What if I try to greet him back this time, would be nice if I change my pace a bit, right?
“Morning Mr. Mosses, nice to see you again once more!” He greeted, tipping his hat down as he flash me a smile.
“Morning to you too, L/n.” I greeted walking past him, I could tell he stopped walking for a few seconds because I didn’t hear his footsteps, I walked pass him so many times to the point I could distinguish his footsteps from others..would that be weird for others? I looked back to see that he wasn’t walking anymore, rather skipping like a happy person..cute..
Timeskip
Ugh finally, this day is finally over. I could go back home and rest..once the metal door opened I went inside and gave the doorman my ID and blah blah blah, the usual routine. After checking that I was the actual person, they finally opened the door to let me in the apartment. I walked up the stairs to the third floor which was tiring to say the least, and went to get my keys in my pocket. Once I got it I led the key to the knob but noticed something, the door that led to M/n’s room wasn’t lit up as usual. Usually he opens the lights after he’s back from his job, perhaps he’s later than usual? I sighed, it’s probably nothing I’m probably-
“Oh Mr. Mosses!” He greeted, I turned my head to see him standing beside me except..he doesn’t have his hat on, is this the first time I’ve seen him without it? “Looks like you got here first!”
“What do you mean?” I asked him, a bit confused
“Oh it’s nothing..” he said quickly “and uh-here!” He handed me a letter but it’s not showing the front, hold on a letter for me?
“Oh thank-“ before I could even thank him, he was already closing the door, he seems to be in a hurry. I checked the letter to see who it was from and saw that there was a heart, a love letter? But from who.. “From M/n L/n; to Francis Mosses..” I muttered.
Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought..
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mhsdatgo · 3 months
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By the way, you can say you hate characters and STILL admit that they were abused or harassed. There's literally nothing wrong. Denying it or romanticizing it because of a strange kink of yours won't make your hate any less evident, trust me.
Rhaenyra was abused. She's continuously taken advantage of, and brushed away the moment she isn't needed anymore. And she experiences this first hand with her own father, who completely ruins motherhood for her when she grows up watching Aemma get impregnated and either miscarry or have the baby be stillborn or die in the cradle. If Viserys had been by her side as a supporter to her claim since the start, he wouldn't have gotten Aemma pregnant again and again in the pursuit of a male child. He wouldn't have married Alicent for the same reason. Even after, the only reason why he still stands by her side, and it's time the fandom accepts this, it's solely because of his grief and guilt, because Rhae is the only remnant of Aemma.
And there it starts. Firstly, groomed and left alone naked and alone by her uncle in a brothel. Secondly, slept with Criston Cole (although she did coerce him, that's still a literal TEENAGER) then she's married to a gay man and still approached super young by her new bodyguard and just one year later she's started giving birth to his children. (Side note: FUCK Rhaenyra x Harwin. FUCK with reverb. With hard K.)
And up to this point, most fan agree that she's had a shitty life, although I don't agree with some of her choices. (like her treatment of Criston Cole and the bastards, not because I'm some kind of bigot, but because passing bastards as trueborn in THAT precise world sets them up for failure, not being legally deserving of a thone DOES NOT mean me hating them. That's for another post.)
To top it all off, she meets her uncle again, and there starts the fanfic self insert. They have sex on a beach the day of Laena's funeral, the only one of the three wives he's ever been canonically loyal to (FUCK you writers) and fans think it's soulmates meeting again or sum shit. They subtly threaten Laenor to fake his death or actually die (that's what they were trying to do, cope harder) and marry mere days after the death of Laena.
Yes, all cute and romantic (for Dumbnyras twats) but literally, has it done anything good? For Rhaenyra or like, anyone else? It just brought Daemon closer to the line of succession. Literally. That's all the good it has done.
Fast forward to ep 10. How do I even start with this? Only Jace seems to be on Rhaenyra's side. It's clear he only obeys to Daemon out of fear and is scared to talk back to him. Meanwhile, he COMPLETELY disregards his wife's, and by his faction's loyalties, QUEEN's, orders, he ignores her wails of pain as she miscarries their daughter out of pure shock and grief for her father's death. He lashes out and chokes her on the same day and people still see him as the malewife to Rhaenyra's girlboss. They're always ready to do award-deserving mental gymnastic to justify this man.
"He was planning war because he wanted to distract himself!!!!" "He only choked Rhae because he was mad at Viserys, he'd never hurt her!!!!!!"
Fuck off. Coming from probably Rhaenyra's #1 hater. Fuck. Off. Don't say you care about her place in the view of men when you're ready to justify shit like this.
This is the same man who runs off and has an affair with a teenager, and then prefers going on and having a badass death instead of joining his wife and children who need him in King's Landing.
Do I like Rhaenyra? No. Do I think that, because of this, she's never been abused, or exploited in any way, in her life? ALSO no. My distaste for her character has NOTHING to do with Viserys, Criston, Daemon, Harwin or literally ANYONE ELSE in her life.
Alicent Hightower time, baby.
My mother, my aunt, my grandmother, my entire bloodline, my Roman Empire. And more. To anyone who thinks of her as nothing but a bitter/jealous girl, go read @feretrumdulcia 's post about this matter cuz there's literally no one I've seen that words it better. (And bub if you're reading, long live you and the way you think.)
https://www.tumblr.com/feretrumdulcia/720746371814195200/i-have-seen-quite-often-that-many-people-consider
Anyone who can read this and argue that Alicent is envious/jealous or bitter, honestly needs to take the heart shaped sunglasses off, get off tumblr and Ao3, learn what media literacy is and start learning how to possess a crumble of it. To us it makes sense to synpathize with both, because we've seen the big picture. To Alicent, Rhaenyra gave her virtue to the man that almost killed her brother, and chose to believe she did not out of trust and maybe nostalgia for her friendship and easier times, only to have her father be blamed and taken away from her as a result.
She has four kids in the span of, how much? Five, six years? Seven at best? Helaena and Aemond are NINE MONTHS APART. Viserys didn't even let her rest after she gave birth to her daughter. And I'm convinced 100% that he kept her as Idk some whore he didn't need to pay for because it's stated that he never wanted Aegon but the son he butchered Aemma for. Why keep on bedding her and forcing children on her when you'd never get what you want from her?
Throughout the series she's called bitter and downright a c*nt for this and that reason. She tries convincing Viserys that Rhae's children are CLEARLY bastards and she's setting herself and them up for failure by committing treason and putting them on the throne? Nah, power hungry, jealous, bitter. She marries Helaena to Aegon as a last resort because she's Valyrian and probably would've received proposals worse than the ones Rhaenyra made that would eventually convince Viserys to give her away? Hates her daughter, abuser, shitty mom. Rhae's sons slit her son's eye out instead of running when they had the chance and she rightfully lashes out? Nah, crazy ass, for the dungeons. She gives money and moon tea to her son's rape victim to ensure she gets a way out and isn't forced to have a baby she doesn't want? Bruh, rape apologist. She goes to Aegon and RIGHTFULLY disciplines him? Abuser. Forced to show her feet to a rancid filthy man to know where her son is? Upholds the patriarchy, hypocrite. She convinces Aegon to start fighting for her family because it's either them or the Blacks and he needs to start putting his life together and fight for them, so she crowns him and makes him King? Treason, deserves death, long live the brothel queens.
Somehow, it is ALWAYS HER FAULT. And those few that admit how wronged she was make fun of her.
CAN SHE FUCKING WIN?! Or y'all just hate her because she isn't Valyrian?
Btw almost all of these arguments are the same for Book!Alicent who I personally believe to be FAR MORE than just a bitter stepmom that hates her stepdaughter. She arguably has more reasons to start a coup against her in the books without that prophecy shit.
TLDR; It's OKAY to hate characters and admit they're abused and taken advantage of at the same time. You don't have a moral high-ground on no one because you hate or love a character instead of the other.
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muchtooold2 · 2 months
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I’ve recently discovered the part of the internet deeply devoted to defending Mystra in BG3 and I get she’s a long standing lore character but it feels like we played a wildly different game.
And I just know in my heart of hearts that if Mystra were male and Gale were female I wouldn’t have to keep reading some variation of “well it’s fine she did nothing to stabilize a ticking time bomb in the chest that would have wiped out an entire city because it needs to feed on the weave despite no real evidence this actually hurts her at all” or “actually it’s Gale’s fault he tried to return what he thought was part of her to her because he was an grown adult who should have known better despite the fact she did not tell him and he did not know it would have hurt her and is horrified to learn this in act 3.” Like, this isn’t me woobifying him. I love Gale and know he can be self-absorbed, his ego is big, and if left unchecked his personality leads him to become the literal God of Ambition. But he’s not like a power hungry schemer. His ambition and desire for knowledge (things Mystra likes!) got the better of him and since he is also insecure he decided to try to do an ambitious thing and prove himself to a goddess. He knows and admits that’s on him! But he (and players) are still allowed to be mad at the fact he’s kicked to the curb to maybe blow up a city to learn a lesson Mystra does not bother explaining until she’s literally forced to because he did not kill himself on her command. And people are allowed to find their relationship wildly inappropriate and toxic and abusive because based on the game you play, it is.
I don’t think it’s bonkers to say that in this situation, Mystra—a literal goddess who met Gale when he was probably somewhere between 17-22 years old—was wrong to have a relationship with him, that it was a toxic and abusive one and that is on her as the entity with more power in every way, that she was petty for letting him languish for a year and being willing to potentially let him kill a whole city while he was trying not to die by eating magic shoes, and that telling him to kill himself is a dick move. And people are like “well according to DnD lore she’s just protecting herself and she was only resurrected after he was a teen” are doubly annoying because bg3 doesn’t give a shit about the canon timeline considering Durge would be like…10 if they cared.
And I know it sucks if you like love Mystra in DnD lore and this doesn’t align with her or whatever but bg3’s themes of “hurt people hurt people” and “power over others is something easily abused if you’re careless” also applies to Mystra. With the sort of exception of Selûne, the game also feels pretty clear on the idea that gods Do Not and Cannot Care About You. The game you play is showing a toxic relationship (and I will say she is not as bad as some people say she is, like she is a goddess operating with some blue-orange morality) and if the genders were flipped we would not be having this discourse.
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wyuovvia · 12 days
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— WHAT DO YOU POST NOW?
Satoru Gojo x Male Y/N || Content Warnings: minor writing smut, nsfw, reposted off my old account (@ballsinyojaws2000), porn, getting caught, mentions of masturbation, crying, humiliation/degrading kink(?), doggystyle, jerking off, anal, subbot y/n & domtop satoru, rest of writing under cut || Word Count: 1,978 || Followers When Posted: 13 ||Author's Note: kinda regret deleting my old account ngl... :(
ALBUM ENTRY!: When Satoru was hard and wanted something to jerk off to, he never expected what he would find next! Keep reading to find out what happens after Y/N gets caught! WYOVVIA 2024!
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[y/n] and Satoru are roommates. They had a good relationship which was why they decided to share an apartment. Little did they know, this would lead to other things.
Satoru and [y/n] are each in their own rooms, just doing whatever. Satoru is on his phone, scrolling through Twitter, when he finds a… slightly random.. uh… video. Specifically a video of someone jerking off. The voice slightly sounds familiar?… 
Then Satoru realizes. It can’t actually be… It’s not actually [y/n], right? He clicks on the account and there’s some… not necessarily family friendly videos on there. Goddamnit, it looks even more like [y/n]. There’s no denying it now. 
There’s videos of [y/n] masturbating and having sex with some girls that he probably had one night stands with or something like that on the account. 
Satoru freezes when he sees that the account in question has not only one- but multiple videos of his roommate pleasuring himself. Even with the proof, he still isn’t able to believe the videos. When the fuck was [y/n] doing this?! 
His face begins to turn red as he clicks on more of the videos, the more he watches he realizes that not only are these videos of his roommate, but they’re recent. and then Satoru realizes most of them are filmed in [y/n]’s room! 
But there’s one video. One video of [y/n] masturbating in the kitchen. The goddamn caption is ‘Trying not to get caught while my roommates home’. Satoru gets up from his bed and storms over to his roommates room, knocking loudly without any reply afterwards.
After a couple minutes of knocking, Satoru hears some footsteps, and his roommate opens the door. Satoru stares blankly at him.. what is he suppose to say? What can he even do at this point? He doesn’t even know how many of the videos his roommate saw.
“What is it Satoru..?” [y/n] looks tired, like he was sleeping when Satoru knocked on the door. Satoru looks down to the ground, then back up to his roommate as he’s unable to utter a single word.
Instead of responding, Satoru shoves the phone with all the videos in the roommates face. Satoru looks up at his roommate with a look of pure anger, as he awaits any response or action from his roommate.
[y/n]’s face goes red as he realizes the videos that Satoru found. H-How the hell did he?… [y/n] quickly tries to explain himself. But there was nothing he could really say as an excuse. “S-Satoru it’s not what you think…” [y/n] backs away a little bit like he doesn’t want to be confronted.
“It’s not what I think, you say?” Satoru scoffs, as he grabs his roommates wrist, stopping him from backing away. “What am I suppose to think huh? Explain the videos in which you masturbate in your own room?… or in the kitchen with the caption saying you were trying not to get caught by me?… Explain that first.”
“Ngh- mn…- T-Toru please let go…” [y/n] looked very embarrassed and panicked that Satoru found his videos and account, and [y/n] was even trying to hide his face from how embarrassed he was. 
Satoru lets go of his roommates wrist and then clenches his fist as he tries to process what he saw, and what he is about to say. His lips curl into a slight smirk, as he raises and eyebrow. “I suppose you didn’t mind me watching them then?”
“N-No!- p-please don’t…!-” [y/n] tries to grab the phone from Satoru so he can’t watch it, but Satoru grabs his roommates wrist again, stopping him from even getting near his phone — he’s having none of it. Satoru holds the phone up so it is in front of his roommates face, and begins to play the one video where he was in the kitchen.
[y/n] whimpers and tries to get the phone so he can turn it off. He’s even tearing up from how embarrassing the whole situation is. But Satoru didn’t care about him practically crying now. [y/n] is staring up at the video with a look of shame as he tries desperately to turn the video off.
Satoru holds back from smiling as his roommates reaction is something he’s never seen before, but he’s also not done with his punishment just yet. “So you’re telling me, you were fully aware that I’d see the videos? You knew I was gonna find them?”
“I-I wasn’t!- I didn’t think you were gonna find them…!-“ [y/n]'s words were shaky from the sheer amount of shame and embarrassment he had. Because [y/n] was trying to reach the phone that Satoru was holding, their bodies are practically pressed against each other. It takes Satoru a few seconds to register it, but he feels something hard pressing against his leg. …What?… Was [y/n] actually getting aroused from this?? He's actually getting hard from fucking being so embarrassed and humiliated because of Satoru?!??…
It takes about a second or two before Satoru realizes what’s actually against his leg, and to be honest he’s not surprised. He grabs his roommates other wrist and looks him straight in the eyes, a smirk on his face as he sees that his roommates eyes are closed. Satoru leans into his roommates ear, and whispers in a low voice. “I think you like me watching these videos…”
“*sniff* I- I don't!-…”
[y/n] is desperately trying to stop the video. Satoru was enjoying it for some reason… [y/n] just looked so pathetic, and the fact that he got a goddamn hard-on from being humiliated made it even more enjoyable.
Satoru chuckles as he feels his roommates wrist beginning to get even more tense with the video still playing. He continues, “it must be your new kink, you want me to watch your… videos.”
Satoru leans a little bit more into his roommates ear, trying to whisper as quietly as he can in his roommates ears as [y/n] gets more red and teary-eyed “I wonder… how many times did you do this before I noticed?”
“M-Mnn…” [y/n] whines and tries to hide his face. Satoru scrolls back and he finds posts that go allll the way to last year. The date on the videos makes Satoru laugh for a quick second, as he whispers into [y/n]'s ear once again. “A whole year huh?… Did you not realize that you would eventually get caught sooner or later?”
“I-I didn’t think you would… f-find it…” Satoru thinks back to how [y/n] is aroused from this. What if Satoru did something with him and recorded it and posted it on [y/n]'s account as slight revenge?… After all, [y/n] is usually on top in his videos, wouldn’t it be a nice change of pace?~ and [y/n] was a bit irresponsible filming out in the kitchen, what if someone saw out the window and figured out where they were?
“I should make my own video with you.” Satoru muses, his words making his roommates body quiver as he speaks. “What do you think would happen if I secretly filmed us in your bed? …How many of your followers would love to see you in a whole new perspective?”
“U- Uuh… T-Toru.. P-Please don’t… I-it’ll be so embarrassing if they see me like that!…-“ [y/n]'s eyes and cheeks are still teary from earlier. Despite [y/n]'s words, both of them know that it would just turn [y/n's] on more.
Satoru raises a brow and looks down to his roommates face, a small smirk forms at the corner of his lips as he feels his roommates hand shaking against his side. Without even waiting for a reply he picks his roommate up, and begins to carry him to his own bedroom as he thinks about what he should do next.
“T-Toru!! Put me down!-“ [y/n] tries to get out of his grasp but he can’t. Satoru puts [y/n] down on his bed and pins him down. Satoru grabs [y/n]'s phone and unlocks it, and gets ready to record.
Satoru raises an eyebrow, his face a teasing expression as he places one hand on the back of his roommates head; and one hand on his chest. After a few seconds of him not moving at all, he begins to slowly kiss his way up his roommates neck; the entire time his roommate is struggling to get out of Satoru's grasp.
But… it seems less like [y/n]'s trying to get out of his grasp. [y/n]'s face is red and his eyes are wet and he’s even moaning a little bit from the kisses. [y/n] technically never said he didn’t want this… he just said that he’s embarrassed because of all of it. Satoru should ask him. 
Satoru hears another small and quiet moan escape his roommates lips, which is then quickly replaced with another kiss.. This time.. a little bit lower. As this continues, Satoru slowly leans down and whispers into his roommates ear. “Is this.. fine?”
[y/n]'s hands tremble a little bit. He’s conflicted. He wants it. His body wants it. But it’s so embarrassing that he struggles to give a straight answer. Eventually a few seconds later, [y/n] speaks. “…y… yes…”
“Are you sure?” Satoru whispers, his voice low and smooth as he continues to kiss down [y/n's] neck. His lips reach his neckline, and he kisses on each side of it. Satoru then looks up and stares at his roommate, waiting for some sort of response from him that confirms he is 100% sure. “y-yes Toru- ngh-!” [y/n] quickly tries to cover his mouth to keep himself quiet. 
“Mhm~ I can’t have you covering your mouth now can I?” Satoru hums, his hands begin to wander towards his roommates shoulders, and then down to his side as he leans down and kisses him again.
“Now, let’s make this video… shall we?”
Who would've thought that becoming roommates with your friend would end up with you head down, ass up, getting railed by that exact same person? And on top of that, also getting recorded during it.
"F-Fuck!~ T-Toru!-mmngh...~" [y/n]'s body moves a little bit witth each hard thrust coming from Satoru. He doesn't even have to see it, but he can tell that Satoru has the camera pointed directly towards his ass, letting anyone who would watch the video see how he fucks his tight hole. 
"Shit... you getting off to this? Getting even more hard f- fuck- a-about the fact that they'll see you crying 'cause of my cock?" Satoru's hand that isn't holding [y/n]'s phone goes around his waist and starts jerking off [y/n] on top of everything else while Satoru's cockhead is pressing against his prostate every time he goes inside of him.
"M-mmgh!!~ f-Fuck! m'gonna cum Toru-"  Satoru chuckles and his hand moves faster on [y/n]'s cock as his thrusts just get harder and faster. [y/n]'s eyes well up with tears just from how fucking good it feels and from how embarrassing this is. [y/n]'s always topped in his videos, and he's only ever recorded videos with women before. What will his followers think of him now?
"You gonna cum?- From me pounding into you and jerking you off just like how you did in our kitchen?- fuck-" [y/n]'s hands dig into the sheets. "Y-Yes!- fuck- m'cumming- mmngghhh!!~" [y/n]'s cock spurts out hot, white cum and a few seconds later Satoru pulls out and releases on [y/n]'s back.
"H-Hahh...fuck.." [y/n]'s thighs tremble and he lays down on Satoru's bed while trying to catch his breath and calm down. Satoru stands up, stops the recording, and posts it on [y/n]'s Twitter account with the caption 'Roomate found out about my account and fucked me hard as a punishment.' Hopefully that'll embarrass [y/n] and he won't be doing potentially risky things again in the future unless he wants to end up like this again in the same fucked-out state.
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skzwaves · 7 months
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❝Portraits At Sunset❞ (hhj x fem!reader) [18+]
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༘♡WHOSE LOVE ➖ "to lovers" trope series
Whose Love Masterlist
♡ prior high school crushes to lovers ♡
one shot - 4,5k words
🌇plot: as you run into your old high school crush at the new art museum and start getting closer again, you realize he might have felt the same for you back then
🌇genre/warnings: art student!hyunjin, reader is implied to be neurodivergent, it's pumpkin spice season guys, vanilla smut with plot, [sorry for the next one but] unprotected sex (always wrap before you tap), pulling out method (this is not safe, don't do it), reader is at least on the pill, making out, oral (male and female), cumshot on stomach, they are just super horny and lovey-dovey flirty
🌇a/n: it's pretty late again, please excuse any typos o.o // I noticed the over 700 notes on hearts will roll??? you guys are awesome :) - I have a few new wips // another spicy hyunjin fiction will come in october/november
🌇taglist: @chartrucewhore @theblackrose247
exhibit one
It doesn't surprise you that your best friend cancels your meet up for the opening of the new art museum, only hours before you were about to get ready. He didn't want to go in the first place and he is probably still hung over from partying last night. What a bummer.
Putting an outfit together for early autumn feels more complicated now, since you want to take some pictures for Instagram there. You can’t go with your favorite feel-good sweater and trousers, that’s why you choose a more preppy look with some modest accessories.
Taking the train in the afternoon, you play Sidelines by Phoebe Bridgers on repeat with your headphones on. You have missed the opening speech in the entrance park but most of the people are already past the doors so you could easily buy a ticket and make your way through the different floors. You spot a tall man looking lost through the crowd of people next to you. As you are able to see his face completely, you recognize his unique features. It’s been about 5 years since you have seen the full lips and beautiful cocoa colored eyes of your muse. By his expression, he recognizes you too.
Hyunjin, your old high school crush, approaches you with a bright smile, “Hi, nice to meet you again.”
“Hi! Yeah, I didn’t know you were still in town.”
“I actually just came back here last year. What about you?”
“Oh I never left. I have a boring day job now.”
“Damn, I’m jealous,” he comments sincerely.
“Why’s that?” you chuckle.
“I decided to study fine arts here and I still have a long way to go before I can make money,” he explains.
“Well, being an art major is a flex for me.”
“Is it really?”
“Yep, I sadly didn’t have the means and motivation to do it, so it’s cool a former classmate chose this way.”
“I see. You’re right though. It’s not really easy to keep up the creativity,” he toys with the band that holds his expensive looking camera.
“Do you have any tips to get inspired again?”
“I usually just go outside and take some photos,” he holds his camera up, “or go to art museums,” he looks around.
"Or take pictures at the art museums," you combine snickering.
"Yes. Actually, it's kinda awkward to ask but… do you mind taking pictures of me?"
"You're totally fine. I'm also here to take pictures of myself." you answer shyly.
"I'll take yours too, if you want."
"Would be an honor for me. You always took the best pictures in school."
"Wow, you should have told me that back then. I could be doing this as a side hustle right now. Would have more focused on photography than drawing," he mumbles at the end.
You just laugh.
Hyunjin shows you the basics of how his camera works and you give your best to get some good angles. However with him as a model it's more likely your fault if the pictures turn out bad.
"You could do modeling as a side hustle now." you suggest half-jokingly.
He scoffs, “I don’t know about that.” He takes the camera out of your hands, standing very close before you to review the pictures you took.
“They turned out great. Thank you. Now, let’s take yours,” he nudges your shoulder.
"I probably need some guidance on how I should pose."
"First, do it naturally," he reassures you.
After you do your usual Instagram poses, which involve a lot of peace signs, Hyunjin gives you some tips and instructs you for some poses. - And holy shit you never loved photos of you so much.
"I'll mail them to you, so the quality doesn't suffer."
"Thank you. Do you have Instagram by any chance? I have to credit your photography skills."
"Sure," he smiles, pulling out his phone to show you his account. You press the follow-button. So does he. Hyunjin posts a lot of his artworks with a few selfies and outfit pictures in-between.
“The way you use colors is amazing,” you compliment him in awe of his artworks.
"You think so? I used to suck at color theory but I figured it out eventually. I struggled a bit with art for a time."
“I can definitely tell that you practiced a lot. You used to have a hard time with anatomy as well. I remember that I had to teach you how to draw noses,” you grin pointing at your nose.
"Yeah, you’re right,” he smiles as well, “I don’t know what I would have done without you. - Do you still draw portraits?" he quizzes you.
"If I have time, yeah… it’s the only subject I feel safe with. Every time I try something different, I fail at doing it right – although I know, I have to practice and can’t just be perfect at first try but self-teaching is so tiring,” you vent and instantly feel bad for it as you see his puzzled expression.
"I could teach you in the atelier I rent with some other art students, if you would like that."
“Are you sure that you wanna do it for free?” you chuckle, “I can be a very bothersome student. You might remember my so called ‘behavior problem’.” you air quote your art teacher at the end.
“I wouldn't mind a coffee date in exchange,” he smiles coyly.
“Coffee date?” you can't believe that he wants to go on a date with you.
"Don't you like coffee anymore? We could get bubble tea instead or-," he slightly panics.
"No, I love coffee. Still. Let's do that." you say eagerly what gets a small laugh out of him.
You exchange phone numbers before going through the rest of the museum together side by side you keep talking about your favorite pieces in the exhibition. To be fair, you can’t really concentrate on the paintings and sculptures, because you have your old crush right next to you. You both leave the building as the sun begins to set, dipping the clouds in orange, pink and purple on a blue-grayish sky. The crisp air makes you feel nostalgic. It reminds you of the early evenings after school.
Hyunjin takes his camera out again to capture the beauty of the entrance park you're standing in. You get lost in the way he concentrates on getting a perfect picture. His brows furrow in annoyance when the camera settings don't save. You think it's cute, you wish your eyes could take pictures in that moment. He looks to his left to check up on you.
"Did they turn out good?" you ask curiously.
"Yup. My battery just died,” he snorts.
"Oh no!" you exclaim consoling.
"And shit, it’s getting pretty late too. I still have a project to finish at the atelier. Sorry, I really gotta go now. I'll text you?" he apologizes but ends it with more of a question.
"Yeah," you nod your head to agree.
"Great. See yah," he waves off and walks away lazily with his hands in his jeans pockets. You wave back and look after him, he turns around for a second while walking backwards now. As he notices that you are still looking at him, he smiles and waves goodbye with both hands before turning around yet again.
You sigh in contentment and walk the other way back home, only to lie awake the whole night, waiting for a text from him. This day surely didn’t go the way you originally planned. You feel like you’re in junior year again. At the same time you tell yourself that you shouldn't fall for an old crush again. Then the sudden ping sound gets you up from your bed.
You see "Hyunjin♥ is typing" after getting a short greeting message from him.
Hyunjin♥: when are you free next week? :)
"On the weekend. :)"
Hyunjin♥: cool, wanna grab a coffee first? the atelier is very full on weekends.
Both of you agree on getting coffee, already planning in your head what you’re gonna wear. You keep exchanging simple texts throughout the week, since you're both pretty busy. Getting a message from him, simply asking how your day is going, makes you smile so much, your cheeks start to hurt. Furthermore it makes counting down the days to the weekend easier for you.
exhibit two
You meet him at 5pm in your favorite coffee shop. Hyunjin is already sitting in a corner booth and is scribbling in his sketchbook. A small plate with two cookies is placed on the other side of the booth where you sit down with your back facing the shop window.
"Hey, I got here earlier than expected," he comments as he sees you, shoving the cookie plate even more in your direction. "Feel free to eat one. I'm gonna order coffee for us. What drink would you like?"
"I'd like a pumpkin spice latte, please."
"A classic," he smirks, making his way to the counter.
You take a bite from the chocolate chip cookie while waiting for him. It just takes him a few minutes to come back with an americano for him and your long awaited pumpkin spice latte.
“So what did you do before you came back here?” you ask to start a conversation.
“My parents wanted me to major in science, so I moved cities to attend a uni for a few years, only to drop out and move back here to study art like I always wanted. It took them a few weeks to understand my decision, yet they gave in the end.”
“Oh. I mean, it’s great that you do what you want to do now,” you affirm.
“Though I wasted a lot of years. I should have listened to my heart way earlier and also a lot more often,” he warms his palms up on his coffee cup.
“Don’t stress too much about it,” you sip at your hot latte, “after all, we can only change the present to get the future we want.”
“Makes sense,” he grabs the other half of your cookie, “do you wanna join me on Thursday evening at the atelier?”
“Sure,” you grab a napkin and reach over to get the cookie crumble from the corner of his lips.
The atelier is only a few train stops from your work, hence you join Hyunjin after your shift. The outside of the gray brick building isn’t as stunning as the interior filled with plentiful paintings and sculptures of various art styles. For one person it seems to be pretty spacious but imagining about fifteen people sharing this room, it would be more stuffy. Now, there are about eight of Hyunjin’s fellow art students working hard on their projects. You feel like an intruder but the students are too focused on finishing their work to even notice you entering the atelier – besides Hyunjin of course who is smiling brightly from ear to ear.
He has already prepared a seat at his work table for you with an easel to your left side. He shows you different sizes of canvases, settling on the rather medium sized one, therefore you can finish it in one sitting. You brainstorm with him different subjects for an acrylic painting. You get your way to draw an ocean at sunset, since you could already feel an upcoming headache if you would have to draw one of the difficult Still Lifes Hyunjin tries to prepare for you on the spot.
He checks up on you from time to time while working on his assignment simultaneously. You’re deeply focused as Hyunjin’s hand is unexpectedly on yours to guide your strokes.
"Just like that. See, you got it now," he looks at you with your eyes still wide.
You try your hardest not to shy away, turning your head to make eye contact with him. The smile on his pretty face makes you even more addicted to him.
Few by few the other art students are leaving the atelier while you’re focused on your painting again.
"We should leave soon as well, right?" you ask whilst mixing a new color.
"Oh no pressure, some students even come here at midnight. You can finish your piece calmly," he answers and picks up the used color pots to place them back. He moves around the atelier for some more time, tidying up his place and leaving his canvas to dry.
“Hyunjin, I think I'm done,” you put your art utensils down with your fingers painted in blues and yellows.
He hums, joining you in front of your easel. He sits next to you at the table, leaning his head on your shoulder. You feel your heart beating faster as he inspects your painting.
“Looks great. I think you should try oils. They would make the ocean blend more smoothly,” he gestures at the blueish waves on your canvas.
"If you teach me." you mumble as you try to clean your hands with the damp towel on the table.
“Of course.” he leans back a bit, “I can teach you everything you want,” he tempts you with a hand on your knee, wandering up and down your thigh.
You turn your head, seeing him licking his lips, smiling at you cheekily.
You smirk and try to decode him, “Are you flirting with me?”
He stares at your lips for a bit too long to be just friendly, “Maybe."
You hesitate to lean into him, though Hyunjin closes the gap between you in a soft kiss first. However one kiss doesn’t do it for the both of you, hence three more kisses turn into a long make out session at the empty atelier. Your lips explore his neck, sucking on his exposed skin as he caresses your sides and grabs your waist more harshly when you find his sweet spot. You are about get lost in each other until the squeaking of the heavy doors from the entrance interrupt you.
"Oh sorry Hyun! Didn't know you had company tonight, haha!" the guy laughed, only to get a towel with dried paint thrown into his face from Hyunjin.
The scene looks so ridiculous, it makes you crack up. You decide to go home and Hyunjin persists to come with you, since it's completely dark outside now. He holds your hand along the way. As you thank him and bid goodbye, he grabs your wrist to turn you back around and gives you a long kiss.
“Good night, I'll text you.” he whispers.
“Alright. Good night. Get home safe.”
You try your best to ignore the horny thoughts that plague your head, still wishing you could be back at the atelier again with his lips on yours. Highschool-you wouldn’t believe a word if you told her about what happened today. You certainly don’t get much sleep that night. Nevertheless the messages you receive in the morning, make it easier for you to get up.
Hyunjin♥: good morning <3
Hyunjin♥: did you sleep well?
Hyunjin♥: I had a hard time falling asleep, haha. though I'm awake early.
Hyunjin♥: I'll finish my assignment this morning
Hyunjin♥: you wanna hang out this afternoon after your shift? :)
Grabbing your phone and reading the messages, your heart skips a beat again. You decide to text back before getting ready.
"Good morning :) couldn't fall asleep as well haha. Yeah ofc. At the atelier?"
Hyunjin♥: damn I'll get us both a coffee then. Great <3 See yah at 4?
"Yup. Looking forward to it <3 :)"
exhibit three
At the atelier a few other students are still working on their assignments. Hyunjin is talking to his friend until he spots you at the heavy entrance doors. He is quick to step over to you, hugging you tightly. You wish you had the guts to kiss him in front of the other students.
"Your Pumpkin Spice Latte is getting cold," he snickers as he lets you go. One hand rests on your waist as he leads you to his working place. Some girls on the other side of your table are whispering while glancing over to you both. It makes you uncomfortable, nevertheless you sip on your coffee silently. "Want to work on a new canvas?" Hyunjin asks you while holding up two different canvas formats for you to pick from.
You nod your head, choosing a larger format to challenge you a bit more. Hyunjin persuades you to do a Still Life this time with funny looking fruits. He even arranges them for you while you begin to mix the colors you need. Both of you sit together again. He talks to his friends and sketches a few designs for a new group project. Regardless, he makes sure you are okay when he hears curse words escaping your mouth. You assure him that you’re doing fine while struggling with the shadows of this one damn pear. He puts his pen down to help you with the shading, giggling at the way you have drawn the pear.
“Why does it look like your pear has a big booty?”
“You positioned the fruits this way and I can’t change the lighting.” you object what makes him giggle even more.
“The more I look at it – you made them all look kinda sexy.” he comments on your Still Life.
“Please, don’t call my fruits sexy,” you beg distressed, “that’s just weird,” you chuckle.
“But they are,” he whispers in your ear jokingly, “the guys might pop a boner if they see your painting.” he continues, trying to hold in his laugh.
“Stop it.” you insist and try to push him away playfully.
"Hey Hyunjin! Wanna come drink with us tonight?" a familiar girl came up to your table, side-eyeing you after interrupting your lively banter. Then she says your name wondering if she knows you for sure, thus you look up to her. "Oh, it really is you. I didn't know you were an art student as well."
"I'm not actually," you look down again.
"Whoops, not everyone can make it I guess," she sighs after dissing you.
Irritated, you cock your head slightly returning your focus on your canvas.
"Well, now. Hyunjin? Are you coming or what?” she asks him again more impatiently.
“No, I'm good,” he answers coldly while grabbing a new paint brush.
You look up for a second, because you don't want to give her your attention fully. Therefore you keep drawing, keeping a laugh in because of his dry answer.
The girl gets nervous, "Really? But you know... I heard one of my friends has a crush on you and I wanted to invite you, so maybe you two can get to know each other."
"Well cool of you to help your friend but no I'm not interested."
Your brush stroke falters as you feel his hand on your waist again the moment he says that.
"Oh eh ok then..." she looks at the closeness of you both before stomping away. He giggles at the scene. You turn to him, thinking this is your chance.
"Are you interested in going to my place then?"
"I thought you would never ask," he whispers into your ear and kissing your cheek sweetly.
exhibit four
“Oh I remember this sketchbook!” he points out, taking your old beige sketchbook from your shelf. It’s still covered in stickers and notes from your high school friends. He runs his thumb over his initials that he wrote one afternoon in art class to perpetuate his name as well. “Can I have a look?”
“Yeah, no worries!” you shout back from your small kitchen.
You really drew a lot of your friends back then. He flips through it gently, stopping as he recognizes his face on one of the pages.
He closes the book and puts it back when you join him in your living room with some drinks.
“Can I show you the assignment I handed in today?" he opens his photo gallery to show you the painting.
“Of course! You didn’t let me see it at the atelier.” you sit next to each other on your big sofa. "Oh my god," you pause, "this is so pretty. Wait-" you grab his phone to see the picture more clearly, "Is that me at the coffee shop?"
"Yeah. Do you like it?" he smiles shyly.
"Of course. I like it, I love it," you feel your cheeks heat up, "What was the theme of the assignment?"
"A comforting place at sunset," he rests his arm on the back of your sofa to lean his head on his hand.
You gasp again and pinch with your fingers on his phone screen to zoom in and out of the picture. It takes you a minute or two to realize that his eyes were on you this whole time.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you notice his eyes shifting to your lips.
"I was just thinking of how we got interrupted yesterday. Unfortunately."
"You wanna continue where we left off?" you put his phone down and lean over to him.
"You don't have to ask me that," he pulls you closer by your waist to finally kiss you again.
"I wish we could have done this sooner" he confesses in-between kisses. You pull away slightly.
"Maybe a shared atelier just isn’t the best place," you snicker.
"No, I meant in high school," he emphasizes and licks his lips.
You gulp, "We weren't that close back then," you reply quietly.
"Yeah, I know. I loved sharing art class with you though."
"Me too."
He starts to kiss your jawline. "I was way too shy to talk to you outside of class and then you got a boyfriend," he sighs against your skin. His hands wander to the seams of your shirt to pull it off. Continuing with kisses down your nape, you feel his smile on your skin as he buries his head into the crook of your neck."You still wear the same perfume," he remarks.
"You recognize it?"
"It reminds me of you every time I get to smell it. I was just lucky that it was really you this time," his hands grab your hips, pulling you closer, to kiss you deeply again. "Let me be with you. Let me be the boyfriend you deserve," he mumbles before joining your bruised lips in a heated kiss with tongues moving against each other. You moan into his mouth, feeling yourself getting hotter by the second.
He pins you down on the sofa without breaking the kiss.
"Want you so badly, fuck," you whimper in-between kisses, getting a moan out of him as well. Hyunjin parts from you with rosy cheeks and red bitten lips to get you out of your jeans and panties.
"Fuck, baby," his fingers graze your pussy, "you’re so fucking wet. Can I taste you?"
"Yes, please" you purr.
He licks and sucks on your pussy hungrily. Moaning out in pleasure, your hands find their way to the roots of his thick silky hairy, pulling slightly. He groans into your core, while his tongue explores your hole, “You like that, baby?” he switches to his fingers to watch your expressions. You whine even louder as his fingers dive deep into your core.
"Good girl, you wanna come on my tongue?"
You nod your head vigorously while humming. In an instant you feel his mouth on your clit again. He finds the tempo that makes you moan out the loudest, holding your legs apart as they shake. His tongue takes you over the edge and he keeps devouring you until you plead him to stop. He wipes your arousal off his mouth with the back of his hand. "Next time I'll have you cumming around my cock," he promises you as he takes off his shirt.
"How about now?" you offer with your hands working on his belt for him.
"But I don't have a condom on me, love."
"I'm on the pill and I'm clean. So if you are clean too, I trust you to do it without-" he shuts you up with another kiss, tasting yourself on him.
"This doesn't feel real," he says as he gets rid of his clothes completely. His flush cock hitting his abdomen. You get off the sofa to sit on your knees, smirking as you see his dick twitching.
His right hand caresses your left cheek, "You're so fucking beautiful," he praises you.
You lick his tip softly, putting your lips around it to suck on it lightly. His whimpers make you melt between his legs. You take every time a bit more of him into your mouth while bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Your eyes become glossy as his hips stutter forward, triggering your gag reflex.
"Oh god, please. I'm gonna cum if you keep sucking me off like this," he laughs. He sounds so pretty, it makes you fall even more for him. Still sitting down with his legs spread out, he waits for you to take a seat. His dick is rock hard under you. You’re very eager to slide it in completely in one go, riding him until you see stars and can't feel your legs anymore. Hyunjin stops you as he notices you struggling, pushing you on your back to set the pace.
"You're gonna cum for me again? Cum all over my cock? Fuck, you wrap around me so tightly," he bites down on your shoulder to mark you up.
You moan out his name as he keeps drilling into you, finally releasing the tension that built up in your lower body again.
"I'm gonna cum-oh fuck!" he pulls out of you to cum on your stomach. His deep groans fill the room as he strokes his cock, spilling his cum all over your belly. "Fuck, you look so hot. Ugh, so damn pretty for me," he breathes out.
You grab his hand to gather some of his cum on his fingertips. He grins down at you, because he already knows what you want, pushing his index and middle finger inside your mouth to taste him. You hum around them while licking them clean, tracing your tongue around each finger slowly.
He bites on his bottom lip to keep his excitement down while you giggle at his reaction.
"This is what I always dreamt of in high school," he confesses, "having you under me."
You’re too fucked out to find your words yet, running your hands through his messy hair earning another moan from the man above you. He grabs some tissues from your sofa table to clean up your bodies. You walk with him to your bathroom to wash up and get ready to cuddle up on your bed.
"Let me draw you next time at the atelier," you request while playing with his hair.
"I thought you wanted to try other subjects?" he asks in surprise.
"But you're way too beautiful to not draw you,” you caress his face adoringly.
"Am I your muse then?"
"You still are - Since high school," you correct him.
"Aw," he coos while kissing your face, "You're mine too."
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