#this is a step up from here always he sounds so dreamy on here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

domjaehyun · 1 year

Text

tangerine love (favorite) (l.dh)

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader

GENRES. fluff, smut, light humor

WORD COUNT. 21.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you hum thoughtfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you headed?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s that?”

“Be my shopping buddy for today.”

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

“Great! We can take my car.”

“Oh, thank God. I was gonna walk.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, I just thought—”

“You know what’s so—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope; you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you just pay for my groceries?”

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

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

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

“Sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you huff.

“You’re lying.”

“I am not lying!” you lie.

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

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

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

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

“You ready?”

You nod. “Ready.”

He smiles. “Then off we go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm?”

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

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

“I bagged them separately.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If a dog wore pants—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But they walk on all fours!”

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

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

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

“You little—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. “Why’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

“Haechan?” you call breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

(And then you kiss him again.)

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

haechan: are you awake

you: no

haechan: ha ha very funny

haechan: i’m bored

you: me too

haechan: keep me company :)

haechan: come over

you: no it’s 3am

haechan: so? come over

you: i’m cozy i’m not moving

haechan: stubborn ass

you: :( mean

haechan: don’t worry i actually love your ass

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

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

you: i’m not moving

haechan: UGH

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

haechan: …what kinds of snacks

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

you: come over and find out

haechan: gimme a sec

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

you: it’s unlocked :)

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

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

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

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

“So? That’s more than enough time.”

“Time for what, exactly?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

“I’m serious!”

“You didn’t even know I was up!”

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

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

“Hey!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna hear you,” he murmurs.

“But—my roommates—”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re serious?”

“I’m serious.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good night.”

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

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

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

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

“I can tell you’re awake, y’know.”

Ah. Well, that solves that.

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

“You’ve got a point,” you agree.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you just moan?”

“That was not a moan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was more than fun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re lucky we were already awake.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It works.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re the reason I fell!”

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

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

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

“They definitely did.” you agree, grinning.

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

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

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

“Bragging.”

He snorts loudly. “Got it. Second?”

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

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

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

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

“Stop teasing me,” you huff.

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

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

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

“No.”

“Please?”

“Nope.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep!” you agree way too quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair.”

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, you’re not.”

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

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

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

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

“Why? Do you like peppermint bark?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s this realization that has you hopping in the shower and dressing up slightly nicer before gathering your gifts in a tote bag—well, the ones you can fit, at least.

You knock on their front door and nibble your bottom lip gently before stopping abruptly, not wanting to do away with all of your lip balm before you even set foot in the party.

“Hey, you made it!” Jaemin cheers when he opens the door, and you can’t help but laugh at his joy.

“Yeah! Traffic was crazy in the fifteen feet between our front doors, but I made it,” you joke, following Jaemin into the living room. “Oh, I have your present!” You root through your bag before gently procuring his gift and handing it to him with a smile.

His eyes widen and he coos fondly, reaching for it and cupping it in his hands. “I may be an adult in many forms of the word, but I have a soft spot for stuffed animals and this? This is just about the cutest stuffed animal I’ve ever seen.” He cradles the white bunny plushie like an infant, humming contently, and you blink in surprise.

“I’m glad you love it, don’t get me wrong,” you say slowly, “but you seem a lot more excited than I expected.”

“I may have had some eggnog,” he whispers conspiratorially, looking at your raised eyebrows and the unanswered question still written plainly on your face and continuing on to say, “I heard a rumor that it’s spiked.”

“Who started that?” you ask, confused, and Jaemin rubs the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly.

“Well, I did.” he answers. “Because I’m the one that spiked it.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding, patting his chest gently. “That’s nice, Jaemin. Have, um, you seen—”

“Haechan’s in the kitchen.” he answers with a knowing smile, clearly coherent enough to know where you were going with your sentence. Or maybe it’s just that obvious that you could only be looking for him.

“Great,” you exhale in relief, nodding once before heading towards the kitchen.

“I’ll give you your gift when it’s gift exchange time!” Jaemin calls after you, and your brows furrow.

“Would’ve been helpful to let me know there’s a gift exchange time.” You shake it off as you enter the kitchen and stop short as your eyes land on the person you were looking for.

Haechan’s back is facing you, hunched over as he fiddles with something you can’t see. There are a few other people in the kitchen, but they melt into the background as you clear your throat loudly, smiling when Haechan jolts in surprise before turning around to lock eyes with you.

You want to say that your heart didn’t skip a beat from seeing his face light up at the sight of you, but you’ve never been a very good liar. You offer a small wave in reply as he crosses the kitchen to get to you, barely having time to drop your arm before he’s pulling you into a tight hug.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Haechan pulls his head back slightly to grin at you. “I’m happy you made it.”

“Me too,” you say just loudly enough for him to hear, tucking your head back into the hug to hide the giddy smile overtaking your lips. Pulling away from the hug somewhat reluctantly, you take in his outfit and—“What are you wearing?”

Haechan looks down at his ugly—an understatement, really—Christmas sweater, obnoxiously vibrant and colorful with a gaudy reindeer on the front, stitched to be three-dimensional, and huffs petulantly. “I’m dressed for the festivities!”

“You look like the festivities threw up on your sweater.” you remark plainly, and he grumbles incoherently, wrinkling his nose in disapproval.

“Words hurt, you know.”

“You’re right,” you agree, raising your hands in surrender. “I am so sorry. How in the world shall I make it up to you?” Your robotic and wholly insincere delivery just makes Haechan narrow his eyes at you, a snicker escaping you as you avert your gaze.

“A kiss might help.” He raises an eyebrow expectantly, a smug twinkle in his eye.

“I don’t know,” you mumble as you think about it—your friends and these other perfect strangers have never seen you kiss before, and you don’t know what the implications of such a public display of affection could be, and—

“You don’t have much of a choice, actually,” Haechan replies proudly, jerking his head towards the ceiling when you look at him in confusion.

You follow his direction with your eyes and there, hanging neatly from the ceiling’s smoke detector, is mistletoe.

You roll your eyes, pursing your lips in an attempt to hide the fond and amused smile pulling at the corners of your mouth. You grip the front of his hideous sweater and pull him closer to you, pressing the quickest of pecks to his lips you think you’ve ever placed.

His eyes barely get a chance to close before they’re flying open in surprise and he opens his mouth to complain, but you hold a finger up to silence him.

“That was a kiss.” you point out.

“A tiny one.” Haechan counters with a displeased frown, but one look down at your fist still holding his sweater makes him smile softly, apparently unable to maintain his dissatisfied appearance.

“I still did it.” You shrug, releasing his sweater and smoothing down the yarn you bunched up by accident. There really isn’t much of any way you could have made the sweater look worse by wrinkling it, truly, but it’s the gesture that counts.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, eyes darting to something over your shoulder before they widen slightly and he looks back at you. “You’re just in time for the gift exchange, actually. Do you want something to eat or drink before we go into the living room?”

“Sure,” you agree, and he leads you to the counter he was standing at when you came in. Your face lights up at a familiar snack as you reach your hand into the bowl and pull out a small fistful of individually wrapped chocolate pieces. “You got the peppermint bark!”

“That I did.” He smiles widely, clearly proud of himself, and you wrap your arm around his waist, squeezing gently. “Oh, and tip? Don’t drink the eggnog.”

“Yeah, Jaemin said he spiked it.” you snicker, and Haechan sucks his teeth.

“I knew it tasted funny.”

The gift exchange goes about as smoothly as you’d expect. Chuu’s very appreciative of her reading pillow and bedside lamp, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she opens the gift from you, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that Chuu got you one of the books you always mention that you’ve never quite gotten around to reading.

(“Now you don’t have any excuses,” Chuu says, smiling, and you nod slowly.

“I bet I’ll think of some more.”)

You’re thrilled when Mijoo gives you your gift, a full gel nail kit, and her expression no doubt matches yours when you take her back to the apartment to reveal her brand new mini skincare fridge.

(“I know this is for face masks and ampoules and the like, but—” Mijoo starts.

“You’re gonna put some snacks in it, aren’t you?”

“I’m definitely gonna put some snacks in it.” She nods in agreement before you two laugh and head back to the party.)

“Hey,” Haechan calls softly from behind you, and you turn to face him, noticing in your peripheral vision that Mijoo and Chuu give each other a knowing look before disappearing into the party. “I wanna give you your present.”

“Yeah, me too.” you reply, feeling an anxious thrumming in your stomach out of nowhere. Will he like it? Does he even really want it?

“Over here,” Haechan says, taking your hand and leading you to a more secluded corner of the party where the holiday music somehow doesn’t quite seem to reach as well.

“Okay, how are we doing this?” you ask, reaching in your bag and pulling his gift out, holding it behind your back. “On three?” You brace yourself to reveal the gift only to panic and shake your head. “Never mind—I wanna go first.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, smiling at you with a delicate fondness you don’t often see from him.

“Okay, close your eyes and put your hand out.” you urge him, and he obliges, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he waits.

He looks so incredibly kissable right now, actually, you think. His lashes flutter delicately on his cheekbones and you can count each lovely little mole on his face without him making a teasing remark about how you’re mesmerized by him, and his lips look so soft and inviting—

“Hello?” Haechan laughs, and you blink out of your daze.

Right. Back on track. You swallow the lump in your throat and place his gift in his hand, clearing your throat nervously.

“You can open your eyes now.” You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet anxiously as he opens his eyes and looks down at his hand.

“No way,” he whispers, blinking down at the vinyl in his hand in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“I am not,” you chuckle nervously, and he looks up from the vinyl to you in awe.

“I thought you said the record store was sold out—” This is the softest you’ve ever heard him speak, you think, and it’s actually very endearing.

“I may have fibbed.” You shrug casually, and a surprised laugh escapes him as he turns the vinyl this way and that. “There was one left. I hid it so I could buy it for you, because I know you love Michael Jackson, and it’s limited edition and probably very cool for a Michael Jackson fan such as yourself to have—y’know—”

“You’re rambling, cutie.” Haechan cuts you off gently, amusement bright in his eyes as he watches you, and he definitely solved the problem of you talking too much, but the casual pet name has now rendered you mute. “Thank you so much,” he says sincerely, looking you in the eyes.

You manage to find the words to express yourself once more. “You really like it?”

“I fucking love it. I’m gonna display it in my room and brag about it whenever people come over.” He is most definitely not lying, you realize by the puff in his chest, and you bite back a giggle, feeling like a weight is lifted off of your shoulders.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” you sigh in relief.

“My turn.” Haechan announces, gently setting the vinyl down on an armchair nearby and bringing his other hand from behind his back to hand you a small rectangular box. “It’s wrapped, so you gotta unwrap it.”

“I do think I’m aware of how wrapped presents work, yeah.” You can’t help but tease him lightly, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Be nice, I’m nervous,” he whines, and you coo sympathetically as you gingerly open the wrapping paper.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous—” Your lightly teasing words stop short when you lift the lid of the small white box and see the contents. “Oh, my God.”

“It’s, uh,” Haechan rushes to explain, gesturing at the box, “I got it custom made with these little, uh, mandarin charms,” he points at the small orange charms on the bracelet, “because we always eat mandarins together, y’know? Like, it’s kind of our thing.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Haechan, I love it.”

You can hear his exhale of relief and his body goes slack, finally relaxing in your side view. “I was hoping you would.”

“Can you put it on me?” You feel like you can’t raise your voice past this murmur for fear that it’ll shatter the delicate and intimate moment you two have built with each other.

“Yeah,” Haechan says immediately, a smile audible in his voice. You hand him the box and he lifts the bracelet out of its velvety encasing, the dim but warm lighting of the living room catching the bracelet and making it glint beautifully.

“This must have been expensive,” you worry, and he shakes his head.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he assures you. “Now that vinyl must have been crazy pricey—”

“It wasn’t too bad with the employee discount,” you half-lie; if it wasn’t for your employee discount and some serious sweet-talking to your favorite manager, you probably would have been living off of leftovers for a week or two.

“Gimme your wrist,” he murmurs quietly, and you comply, offering him your arm and watching as his hands fasten the clasp around your wrist. It looks stunning on your skin and you honestly can’t imagine taking it off anytime soon. “It looks beautiful on you,” Haechan compliments, and you laugh softly, shyly.

“Thanks,” you mumble, and you’re now very aware that Haechan’s gaze has shifted from your wrist to studying your face, his intent stare sending nervous jitters throughout your body even as you avoid it. Slowly, you drag your gaze up from your linked hands to meet his eyes, and you’re all but floored by the intensity in his stare, his gaze somehow both unreadable and perfectly easy to comprehend.

It’s a myriad of emotions—fondness, desire, determination, passion—all packed into one heavy-lidded stare as he wets his bottom lip. His fingers loop around your wrist, just below the bracelet, and he tugs you closer gently, coaxing you into his embrace as his free arm wraps around your waist.

Gazing into your eyes, he smiles secretively before looking up at the ceiling pointedly. When you look up, you already have a feeling about what you’re going to find, letting out a small laugh of disbelief when you see yet another mistletoe dangling from the ceiling.

“Did you plan this?” When you look back at him, his eyes are trained on your mouth and he leans in closer to you, his nose nudging against yours as his smile softens.

“Of course I did.” His words are a soft murmur against your lips before he’s kissing you, and the way he does makes your head spin.

His arm tightens around your waist and his other hand holds your chin, gently tilting your head towards him so he can kiss you better. His lips move slowly against yours, leisurely yet still intense as he hums contently.

You feel like you’re kissing him for the first time by your sink all over again, excitement trickling through you like the soapy water dripped down your arms that first time and the chatter in the background—even the faint whoops you hear that most likely mean you’ve been spotted—fading into nothingness.

There’s no one around that matters but you and Haechan, and you could probably live in this moment forever.

He gently separates from the kiss, resting his forehead on yours as you both attempt to catch your breath.

“Haechan,” you murmur softly, “if you kiss me like that again, I’m gonna think you’re in love with me.” Your attempt to lighten the mood to steady your pounding heart goes unanswered, Haechan surprisingly silent. You look up at him curiously to see, with a jolt of surprise, that he’s already looking at you, his expression unreadable yet immediately comprehensible like earlier, but there’s a fire to it, a burning insistence that makes you swallow thickly. “Don’t joke like that.”

He regards you with a raised brow. “Who says I’m joking?” At your skeptical silence, he scoffs in amusement, squeezing your waist gently. “You have to know I’m, like, crazy about you by now.”

You gape at him. “Really?”

He gapes right back at you. “Yes!” he answers exasperatedly. “I went to Etsy for you,” Haechan sounds incredulous, continuing on even as you start to laugh, “I don’t think you know how confusing it was to order a charm bracelet with mandarin oranges on it? The shop people probably thought it was ridiculous.”

“No,” you console him immediately, draping your arms around his neck. “They probably thought it was very thoughtful, romantic, and sweet. Just like me.”

He looks up at you, hope in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Plus, it could be worse—you could have done all that just to get rejected or something.”

“So, I’m definitely not getting rejected right now, right?” He’s only half-joking, making you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“No, I’m definitely not rejecting you. Maybe I’m kinda crazy about you, too.” you admit with a small smile, and his face lights up, his smile one of the most radiant you’ve seen from him since meeting him. He studies your face, taking it in like it’s the last time he’ll ever see it, and you can practically feel the question on the tip of his tongue. “What is it?”

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he asks, smiling like he knows something you don’t.

You nod slowly, offering him a wry smile as you say, “I’m in; we can have a night out on the town or something.”

“Yeah?” He sounds slightly surprised but thrilled nonetheless, and you nod, your smile widening.

“Yeah. Renjun gave me a $50 gift card to Home Depot, so I’m thinking things might get a little crazy.” you deadpan, and Haechan snorts loudly in amusement, his eyes widening like he didn’t expect to do it.

“Home Depot?” Bless his heart, Haechan does make an attempt to hide his amusement, but he gives up and bursts out laughing. “Why would he—”

“I don’t know.” You hold your hands up in surrender. “I gave him art supplies, nice and thoughtful, and he gave me a gift card to a store I’ve never even set foot in.”

“Y’know, there’s actually something kind of sexy about Home Depot.” Haechan hums, swaying the two of you from side to side. “Maybe it’s the smell of brand new appliances and stuff.”

“I can’t say I know what appliances smell like off the top of my head.” you say thoughtfully, and Haechan nods.

“Yeah, neither can I; I just said that to make you feel better.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” you coo sarcastically, pinching his cheek.

He swats your hand away with a laugh before saying, “Speaking of sweet—I just remembered to tell you that Jaemin loves his present.”

“Really? I mean, I kinda figured, what with the way he fawned over it when I gave it to him, but I’m glad to know he really likes it.”

“Yeah, I saw him clutching it as he threw up in the toilet.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What a lovely mental image.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles.

“Y’know, I really didn’t have much confidence in my gift-giving skills, but then I met Jaemin and Renjun. So, like, at least I know there’s worse out there.”

“What did Jaemin get you?” he laughs, his arms tightening around your waist.

You stare at him blankly. “A cookbook.”

Haechan’s confusion is palpable. “You don’t even cook like that—”

“I don’t even cook like that!” you agree emphatically, and he snickers.

“That’s awfully domestic of them, honestly.”

“Isn’t it? Are they hinting that I should start settling down or something?”

“Maybe they’re hinting that you’re wife material.”

“I’m pending “wife material” status; I need to learn to cook and navigate Home Depot, apparently.”

“Speaking of Home Depot,” Haechan pipes up, giving you a lingering kiss. “If we go to Home Depot, we can make out in the gardening aisle.”

You pull back just in time to snort in amusement. “How very romantic.”

“Listen, I’m trying to work with what we’ve got,” Haechan defends himself, and you roll your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you scratch gently at his scalp on the back of his neck.

“We could listen to your new vinyl in your room and make out in there,” you suggest, and he brightens up, nodding eagerly.

“What a good idea,” he agrees, tucking your head against him to hug you properly.

After a moment, you shift uncomfortably. “Haechan, is that your phone in your pocket or did all that Home Depot talk get you worked up?”

“What are you talking about?” His voice is muffled against your neck as he speaks, but you can hear his confusion regardless. “My phone is in my back pocket.”

“Haechan, don’t tell me you’re seriously chubbed up right now in the middle of this Christmas party.”

“First of all: please never say ‘chubbed up’ again.”

“Agreed.”

“Thank you,” Haechan sighs in relief. “Second of all, that’s my remote.”

It’s your turn to be confused, apparently. “Remote to what?”

Releasing you from his embrace, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves a simple remote, pressing it, and you watch as his sweater starts to flash bright lights.

You’re silent for a moment. “I didn’t think it could get any worse.”

“Aw, come on!”

“No, I’m serious—it looks like the festivities threw up on you and now, apparently, they had some string lights in there too.”

Haechan pouts deeply. “Ah, you are so mean, seriously.”

“If we’re making out at all tonight, that hideous sweater comes off.” You point accusingly at the offensive garment, glaring at the wonky-eyed reindeer.

“No way.” Haechan disagrees immediately. “The reindeer sweater stays on during sex.”

“I will never sleep with you again.”

“On second thought, we could burn it. Burning it sounds good.”

“Baby, show me that last dance again,” Haechan urges you, jerking his chin at the open space of the living room you’ve been using as a makeshift dance floor.

You spring up from the couch, using a hand on his leg to brace yourself, and make your way to the middle of the room, taking a moment to recall the dance steps.

“It’s like this.” You hum a tune to yourself as you mime holding someone’s hand and their shoulder, swinging your hips as you move sideways, lifting your knee at the end before repeating the actions in the other direction. You look up at Haechan as you dance, immediately averting your gaze when you meet his eyes and take in his intense stare.

“And that’s the bachata?” he asks, raising his eyebrows curiously when you two lock eyes. You nod, and so does he. “You look good doing it.” He smiles and pushes off of the couch, taking the place of your invisible dance partner. Placing your hand on his shoulder, he rests his on your waist, lacing your fingers with his own and tugging you closer. “Dance with me now.”

“You got it?” you ask in surprise, and he nods.

“Quick learner.” he explains, smiling. He’s not wrong, you realize as you hum your little song and lead him into the dance. He moves smoothly and attractively, his steps confident but not too serious.

“You’re good,” you murmur in surprise, and he chuckles.

“I have a good teacher.” When you’ve completed two sequences from one side to the other, he twirls you, laughing when you yelp in surprise and clutch onto him tightly. “You’re not gonna fall, baby.”

“I know,” you murmur, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I trust you.”

“You trust me?” Haechan’s voice is soft, his fingers just as gentle as his tone as they stroke at your back, and you nod, knowing he can feel it as opposed to see it. “Then close your eyes.”

You move back so he can see when you comply, and he grips you a bit tighter, turning you to the side and dipping you, his laugh ringing out with yours as you burst into tickled giggles.

“See? I trust you.” You still don’t open your eyes as you speak, the inaction triggering a jolt of surprise when his nose brushes against yours.

His lips connect with yours soon after, nudging them apart to kiss you sweetly. He stands you both upright once more and wraps his arm around your waist, drawing you in closer with a hum and tugging gently on your bottom lip.

He peppers kisses down to your neck where they slow down, growing languid and needy as he latches onto various spots of your neck and sucks gently.

“That tickles,” you giggle, squirming away, but he just locks his arm around you, holding you firmly in place as he continues to attack your neck. “Haechan,” you whine pleadingly, and he groans against your skin.

“Mm, yeah, love when you say my name like that.” He nips at your flesh, lapping his tongue over the sore spot in a wordless apology.

“Haechan!” You attempt to scold him, but the pleasure gets to you, his name coming out even needier than before.

“Just like that, baby.” he grunts, sucking harder at a spot near the base of your neck that, despite your conscious desires, has you tipping your head back to allow him better access. “See? You love it.” His free hand trails down your backside, hiking up your shirt to grab your ass, clad only in black lacy underwear.

You’ve essentially given up on getting him to stop, finally succumbing to your desires and pushing your hips into his. He chuckles, the sound low in his throat and undeniably smug, and backs towards the couch, releasing you and plopping down on the seat.

He pats his lap with an inviting wiggle of his brows, his grin widening when you take the invitation and sit sideways on his lap, leaning your side against his chest.

“Where was I?” he murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and making a determined path to your neck. You wiggle away at the last minute and press your lips to his before he can inevitably protest. His complaining whine abruptly changes to a pleased humming sound as he kisses you over and over (and over) again, alternating between quick, soft kisses and lingering, needier ones.

His hand slides up your thigh purposefully, moving between your legs and hiking up the hem of the shirt you’re wearing. He grins against your lips when you part your legs slightly, allowing him to stroke along your inner thighs.

“Your skin feels so soft,” he murmurs against your lips, “and your kisses taste so sweet—I’m in heaven.”

“You’re so dramatic.” you snicker, and he shakes his head, parting from the kiss to look at you with bright, earnest eyes.

“I’m serious,” he promises, his gaze dropping to where his hand disappears between your legs. “I could stay like this forever.”

“Well, unfortunately,” you murmur, tugging gently at the locks on the nape of his neck and smiling when he groans, “I can only keep Mijoo and Chuu away from the apartment for so long.”

“What are we gonna do when they come back?” He frowns up at you, resting his chin on your breast.

He really needs to stop being so damn cute, you think.

“Well, we can just go in my room.” you offer, and he nods, lost in thought.

“Are they coming back soon? Should you,” he sighs deeply as if he already regrets the next words out of his mouth, “put some pants on?”

You can’t help but laugh at how resistant he is to the thought of you wearing more clothes before you stand up, moving back to the center of the room and twirling once.

“Mijoo and Chuu have already seen me like this, anyway,” you inform him, gesturing at your attire, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, beckoning you closer. When you’re within reach, he laces his fingers with yours and pulls you towards him until you’re landing clumsily on his lap once more with a yelp. “Well, aren’t they lucky?” He adjusts you so your knees are on the couch on either side of him, your hips hovering above his lap ever so slightly.

“I wouldn’t say lucky,” you chuckle, and he shakes his head, scrutinizing your face.

“Do they get to see you reaching for stuff in the cabinets with this on?” Haechan asks, his hands running up the backs of your thighs. “Hm? Do they get to see your shirt ride up and show off your cute little ass?”

You hesitate, slightly uncomfortable with the thought of flashing your friends and roommates. “If they have, I’m pretty sure—and kinda hoping, at this point—they’re not actually looking.”

“Do they get to see you bend over as you look in the fridge for something to snack on?” he continues, and you grimace, shaking your head.

“I don’t even do that—oh—” Your vehement protesting ends abruptly when he grabs your ass with both hands, using his grip to pull you forward until your chest is clumsily landing against his.

“No, they don’t get to see that, right?” he murmurs, looking up at you with desire pooled plainly in his eyes. “Only I get to see my girl like that.”

You could just about melt from the pet name. “Yeah,” you agree breathlessly.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum in a daze.

“Only me?” he presses, hands pushing your shirt up past your stomach and over your breasts, now exposing your matching lacy black lingerie.

“Only you,” you confirm, the needy whine creeping back into your voice. “Haechan, touch me.”

“My baby wants me to touch her?” he asks softly, teasing you with the promise of a kiss but not delivering. His breath is warm on your lips as he taunts you and he’s all but inhaling your plaintive cries for attention, his eyes growing more wild and intense the more you quietly plead for him.

“Please, Haechan?” To your embarrassment, your voice cracks slightly towards the end of the word, but it seems to trigger something in Haechan, who lets out a groan from deep in his chest before cupping the back of your neck and pulling you in for a heated kiss.

“Could never say no to my girl,” he coos against your lips, punctuating each word with a kiss deeper than the one preceding it. “Let’s take this off, baby.” His hand hurriedly yanks at the material of your shirt that’s bunched up above your breasts, and you break from the kiss to pull it off, barely having time to drop it on the couch before he’s hungrily kissing all over the exposed skin of your chest.

You already know what he’s going after next, so you beat him to the punch, unclipping your bra and letting the straps fall off your shoulders. Haechan lets out a loud groan of approval, his kisses barely hesitating before dipping lower until his tongue is rolling over and swirling around your nipple. His hands fly to cup both of your breasts as he alternates between sucking at both of your nipples, and you suck in a sharp breath when his fingers pinch at the hardened bud, tweaking it teasingly.

As he loses himself in your breasts, you can’t help but rock your hips down onto his lap, the thin fabric covering your clit doing virtually nothing to conceal the sensation of his cock pressing against your core through his sweats. You stutter out a gasp, and he chuckles mockingly, releasing your nipple with a wet pop and regarding you carefully.

“That feel good?” he asks, mimicking you when you nod. “Yeah? Feels good to fuck yourself against my cock?”

Your only response is a whimper and a rasp of his name that has his eyes blazing with lust.

“You wanna cum so bad, don’t you?” he taunts, and you cry out weakly, your head dropping down to rest your forehead against his. “Can you cum like this? Just like this?” His mocking tone softens slightly, and when you nod, he hisses, bucking his hips up to collide with your body, groaning, “I love seeing you like this—so fucking gorgeous like this—no one gets to see this but me—”

“Only you,” you moan desperately, willing to say just about anything if it means you get to cum.

“All mine,” he growls under his breath, tilting his head up to kiss you fiercely. “I’m all yours, and you’re all fucking mine, yeah?”

“Yes, baby—Haechan, I wanna cum so bad,” you gasp, and he nods, releasing your breasts and grabbing your hips, guiding your rocking motions until that delightfully familiar tightening feeling starts building in your abdomen. “Fuck, just like that,” you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders, his only protection the thin shirt he’s wearing.

“Kiss me when you cum,” he pants, and you oblige, leaning forward and connecting your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss. He’s positively frenzied, biting roughly at your bottom lip until you wince and sucking on your tongue, not relenting even when you attempt to retract it to moan his name.

Your poor tongue is trapped between his greedy lips as he sucks hard on it, only giving you a slight break when he swirls his tongue around yours with a lewd moan escaping him as saliva—you can’t really tell whose it is—drips down from your bottom lip onto your chest.

He’s all over you, dominating your mouth with his, your breasts with his hands, your core with his length, and your mind is so blank that you don’t even notice when one of his hands travels south to slip into your underwear, only catching on when his fingers press against your clit roughly.

“Oh, sh—” you gasp as he rubs the sensitive bud vigorously, heavy-handed touches sending you toppling over the edge. To your surprise, tears well up in your eyes, the pleasure almost too much to bear, and Haechan coos sweetly when they start to spill, pulling back from the intense lip lock to kiss up your tear tracks, capturing your lips with his own tear-smeared mouth, lips wet and salty as he moves them against yours.

“Up,” he croaks, tugging you up off of his lap slightly, and you oblige, lifting up off of him enough for him to shove his pants down to his knees and pull himself out of his boxers, rapidly fucking his fist as he stares at your underwear, the very last article of clothing covering your body. “Sit, baby.” he urges, guiding you down.

He gropes freely at your asscheeks with one hand as his other, wrapped around the base of his length, brings the thick head of his shaft to your entrance. You pull your underwear to the side to allow him entry, and he pushes up into you as you sit down onto him, both of you letting out groans of pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he moans, “sit on my fucking cock just like that.”

“So full,” you babble, gasping as he bottoms out, “so fucking full.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos comfortingly, “you can take it all, yeah?”

You don’t think you have much of a choice, but it’s not like you were planning on backing out, anyway.

In lieu of a response, you lift your hips and bring them back down onto him, Haechan winding his fingers in the locks at the nape of your neck and yanking so your head is forced back. You whimper loudly at the tug and moan louder when his tongue drags up from the top of your cleavage to your chin, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake.

“Obsessed with how you taste,” he grunts, barely parting from your neck as he sucks and nibbles at your skin and making loud and wet noises every time his lips release a patch of flesh. “Gonna eat your pretty pussy later, too—”

“Fuck,” you hiss, his words affecting you more than you expected. You position yourself slightly so you can bounce up and down on his length, your mind all but falling apart at the feeling of his thick shaft stretching you open.

He trails wet kisses back down to your chest, cupping your breasts and sucking on your nipples greedily, switching between the two like he can barely get enough. When he nips one of them a bit sharper than you’re prepared for, you cry out weakly, pushing at his head as a warning.

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this—” he grunts, thrusting upwards to meet your movements so you’re simultaneously fucking onto and into each other. “No one else gets to hear the pretty fuckin’ noises you make when I fuck you—no one gets to make you feel this good but me—”

“Just you, babe—” Your words are undoubtedly slurred from pleasure, but by the way Haechan’s thrusts speed up, you’re willing to bet he heard you. “Feels so good—wanna cum so bad—”

“Feels good?” Haechan echoes mindlessly, biting down on the flesh of your breast. “You love this, don’t you? Love me fucking you with my thick cock?”

“Love your cock so much—fuck, Haechan—I’m gonna—” You can barely get the words out before Haechan’s kissing you deeply, a filthy mess of teeth and tongue as his hips fuck up into yours.

“Cum all over me, baby, want you to make a mess all over me,” Haechan grunts, and you do. You climax loudly and powerfully, and Haechan’s thrusts continue the whole time, prolonging and heightening your pleasure until you’re shaking your head and squirming away from the hypersensitivity.

“Haechan, cum inside me,” you moan plaintively, still in a daze, and he nods distractedly, sloppily kissing every inch of your skin he can reach as he speeds up his thrusts and curses under his breath.

“Cumming—” He’s barely able to choke out the last syllable before he’s burying himself in you to the hilt, his breathing ragged as he finishes inside of you. You affectionately rake your fingers through his hair as he recovers, his forehead resting against your chest. When he’s collected himself, he catches your wrist and presses a kiss to your palm, looking up at you with a lazy smile.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, y’know that?” you mumble in amusement, and he grins mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Of course I do—and you love it,” he chuckles, and you roll your eyes slightly, shifting in his lap and cringing at how cool your chest feels. You look down and can’t help but widen your eyes at the state of your chest.

It’s, to put it lightly, covered in saliva, and you’re almost positive it’s entirely Haechan’s doing. When you look back up at him, you see him looking right where you just were, his lips parted slightly in what you assume is awe.

“You really do have quite a mouth,” you snort, pushing his jaw up so said mouth closes. “A messy, sloppy, dirty one.”

He looks up at you finally and you’re surprised to see that the look on his face wasn’t awe at his messiness but unbridled desire. He grins up at you smugly, making loud kissing noises.

“If I recall correctly, you weren’t complaining when my messy, sloppy, dirty mouth was all over you earlier,” he points out as he squishes you to his body, your breasts pressing against his face. He nuzzles into your cleavage, pressing a wet kiss to the skin, and you groan and push his head away with a laugh.

“Whatever,” you say, attempting to sound grouchy but ultimately failing as the smile on your face is too wide. “I need to shower.”

“Fine,” he sighs loudly, releasing you, and you stand up, making a face as his mostly softened length slips out of you. “On one condition.”

“It’s my shower, Haechan,” you point out. “What condition could you possibly have?”

“I get to join you.” He beams at you hopefully, nodding encouragingly in an attempt to convince you.

“I was already gonna say you’re coming with me,” you say, stooping to pick up your discarded clothing. “That way we’ll both be all cleaned up by the time Mijoo and Chuu come back.”

“Sounds good to me,” Haechan agrees, standing up and tucking himself back into his clothing. “Lead the way, baby.”

When you turn and head towards the bathroom, a quick smack to your ass makes you yelp before turning to glare at your cheekily grinning boyfriend.

“Haechan!”

“If I apologized, I’d be lying.” He shrugs nonchalantly, and you narrow your eyes at him before turning back around.

“You’re a menace.”

“You’re stuck with me,” he sing-songs, blowing you a loud kiss from behind. Thankfully, he can’t see the giddy smile on your face or feel the heat rising to your cheeks, so you just remain silent and think about how nice it is to be “stuck” with someone like Haechan.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you tease, turning to face him as you step into the bathroom and shut the door in his face.

“Hey!” Haechan exclaims, indignant as he jiggles the doorknob. “You’re in for it now, you know that, right? You can’t get rid of me that easily!”

“I know!” you call back, covering your mouth to stifle your laughter.

Frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

ta da !!! i hope you enjoyed :) happy new year!

#haechan smut #nct smut #lee haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut

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just-jordie-things · 3 months

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born to die - itadori yuji

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word count: 8.7k warnings: canon-typical angst and talks of death summary: itadori's fate has been sealed, and he can't bear dragging anyone down with him. especially not her. more info: friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angsty confession rain scene, you're gonna eat it up

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[ feet don’t fail me now, take me to the finish line // oh my heart it breaks every step that i take, but i’m hoping that the gates they’ll tell me that you’re mine ]

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Itadori Yuji hasn’t always lived his life on borrowed time. It used to be normal- as some called it. He used to be just a boy, with an intrigue in the occult and semi-above average grades. Back when things were normal he’d never thought much about girls or dating, not seriously anyways. In the back of his mind he always figured the right person would come along at the right time, and he’d settle down when things worked out that way.

He didn’t know that the right time would cease to exist the moment he swallowed that finger.

At the sound of lightning cracking, Yuji flinches slightly, not having realized just how bad this storm had gotten since he’d stepped out of the dormitories to appreciate the rain. He must’ve been out here for longer than he thought, but he hadn’t exactly been trying to keep track of time. One thing led to another and he’d gotten lost in his thoughts, and…

“Megumi, what the hell is happening?”

Her shock was evident not only in the way she’d called out to her classmate and friend, but also in the speed at which she’d brought herself from one end of the corridor to the other. It was almost as if she’d teleported there.

At the time, Yuji thought maybe that was her special power. If the grumpy dude had shadow animals, it wasn’t too outlandish to believe she could warp from one spot to another, right?

He’ll never forget the way she’d looked at him then. For the first time.

Confusion and panic washed away for the briefest of moments, instead gazing upon him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. Yuji had confused it at first for recognition, thinking maybe they’d met before and he’d forgotten, but that wasn’t the case.

“Who is that?”

“This is Itadori,” Fushiguro huffed, more annoyed by the introduction than anything. “He’s the one with the finger”

It wasn’t exactly the introduction Yuji would have wanted, but there was no changing that now. Besides, as long as he was able to say that he met her, that he knew her, he’d consider that more than a blessing.

(He always sort of had that soft way of speaking about her whenever she came up, whenever he brought her up. His eyes would glaze over with that dreamy look and before he knew it his heart was getting fluttery and his face was getting warm)

A lot of that fateful night was a blur, especially the parts where his body no longer belonged to him, but when it came to her, it was like the images were crystal clear. If there was a way for him to enter a memory and relive it- that’s how he’d describe the sensation.

“Is he still passed out?” A voice- Yuji couldn’t be sure if it was Fushiguro or his supposed mentor who’d shown up- asked, but it was fuzzy and distant.

“Seems so,” A gentler one replied. This one was undoubtedly hers. “Probably for the best that he rests” She added before he felt the faint touch of fingertips pushing the hair off his forehead.

“What do we do with him now?” It was obvious it was Fushiguro asking, and it was obvious that he was asking his mentor, but it wasn’t the older man who replied.

“We take him back with us,” She piped up, her voice holding a firmness that suggested she’d argue harder if she had to. “Right?”

The pause before an answer came was long, Yuji wasn’t sure if he had faded in and out of consciousness, or if the silence really did drag on for minutes.

He’d never told her that he’d heard that small bit of conversation, that he remembered the way her careful fingers had touched him with more compassion than he’d felt in a long time. Yuji couldn’t decide if it was because he was a coward or if he simply wanted to keep hold of that precious memory all to himself.

Another roll of thunder rumbled through the sky. Yuji lifted his head to try and make out the dark clouds among the night sky. Without a flash of lightning it was difficult to make out, but he did always enjoy watching a good storm, even if the darkness made it difficult.

He’d surely been out here for a couple of hours at this point. It was nearing midnight when he’d crept out of the dormitories to watch the rain, hoping for a peaceful moment. It was peaceful, the storm, at least. His mind had gotten foggy after spending too much time within it and he was starting to go down that path he hated.

What if I’d done things differently? Do I really deserve to still be here? How long until we find the last finger and the higher ups have me executed?

It wasn’t your average person’s derailed anxiety. In fact, all of the anxieties Yuji had ever faced before being introduced to jujutsu had faded away. He’d have to think for a few minutes to recall the things that used to be on the forefront of his mind on sleepless nights.

He was certain none of them involved being executed, though.

It was only a matter of time, and he’d known that for a while. He was quite sure he’d come to peace with it, too. Or at least he almost had. He was just wrapping his head around the idea of dying, but as long as he’d helped people before that time came, he could accept it. He could die at peace knowing he’d done everything he could to fulfill his grandfather’s dying wish.

And then she came along and everything turned upside down- again, and not for the last time.

The relief between the group of four upon finding everyone alive and as well as they could be- not unscathed, but nothing that couldn’t be bandaged up- was quickly replaced by utter shock as they watched Sukuna’s mouth appear on the palm of Yuji’s hand. There was no time to react before it was gobbling up the finger Megumi had obtained after a hard fought battle.

It’s suddenly so silent you could hear a pin drop from anywhere in these woods, everyone’s eyes focused on the skin that reappeared over the boy’s palm, each hoping their eyes had played tricks on them as the reality of the situation settles in.

Yuji wants to say something, in fact, he almost cracks a joke. But the words are stuck in his throat and all he can do is flex his fingers into a fist a few times as he processes what just happened.

Another finger consumed is another finger closer to death.

“We won’t tell anyone about this,” She speaks first, gaze lingering on his hand for a moment longer before lifting to Yuji’s concerned expression. She hesitates again, then turns to Megumi and Nobara. “No one. We keep this to ourselves”

“Not even-?”

“Not even Gojo-sensei” She cuts Megumi off before he could finish the question.

Nobara gave a solid nod in agreement right away. She always trusted her say in anything, and would blindly follow her anywhere. Megumi took a minute longer to catch up, but eventually agreed as well. The idea of keeping such a massive secret hidden from Gojo unsettled him, but when he weighed out the other options, he didn’t like the idea of Yuji being any closer to death than he was before.

“Let’s get moving” Was all he said, but it was enough for his peers to know he was on board. Nobara followed after him as he took off towards the direction they’d come hours ago. Yuji hung back a few steps, not sure how to feel about everyone covering for him.

“(y/n),”

He called her name softly, as he always did, but it was loud enough for her to perk up. She sends him a small smile as she slows her own steps to walk beside him at his slower pace.

“I don’t want anyone getting in trouble for covering for-”

“No one’s getting in trouble,” She assured him mid-sentence. “And no one’s doing anything they don’t want to do. It’s fine”

She was always so sure of herself that it was endearing. She was a natural leader, even when Megumi tried to form a plan, she had a way of rallying the small group up before any assignment. Just last week Gojo made them stay behind after lessons to clean the classroom, and she’d found a way to make it into a competition that had them finished in under thirty minutes. Yuji admired that about her. Her spirit could be over exaggerated, but it was never phony.

Yuji was at a loss for words, leaving him stuck gaping at her like a fish, which was at least effective in making her laugh.

“You care so much for others- I really admire that about you, Yuji,” She spoke as if she could read his mind. It had his chest buzzing in that familiar way she sparked. She looked at him and it was like her eyes were made of the stars themselves. “But you underestimate how much… others care for you too”

He’ll never forget the way her cheeks had gone pink after the soft admission.

If the circumstances had been different, he’s sure he would have confessed to her right then and there. If things were different he wouldn’t have been able to hold it back. If it weren’t for his reality, he would have loved nothing more than to take her in his arms and tell her- well, everything, really.

It wasn’t like he was doing that great of a job keeping his heart in check. His friends had noticed the way his demeanor changed as soon as she walked into the room. Megumi may have wanted to ignore the subject just because that was his nature, but Nobara was happy to blurt it out one night when it was just the three of them.

“So when are you gonna address the whole (y/n) thing?” She’d barely looked up from where she was sitting on Megumi’s floor painting her nails. Yuji had to do a double take just to make sure she was talking to him.

“... (y/n) thing?”

He’d acted like he didn’t have a clue what she was referencing, but truthfully, his heart was already racing. He hadn’t been that obvious about it, had he?

“C’mon Nobara, he doesn’t want to talk about that yet, leave him be” Megumi had come to his defense, but only sort of, because now Yuji realized that they both knew about his hidden feelings.

Did he not hide them that well?

“It’s been months!” Nobara barks back, ever so focused on the perfect coat of cherry red. “He’s gotta be bursting to tell someone! Might as well be us”

“This is why people don’t come to you with stuff” Megumi huffs.

“You got something you want to say then?” Nobara argues.

“No, I’m just saying-”

“Then could you shush so Yuji could actually open up about his undying love?”

“Uh… heh…?” Yuji mumbled his confusion to himself, but it was enough to interrupt their bickering. He glanced between the two with a lost look on his face, waiting for someone to better explain it to him.

“Yuji, if you need some advice on how to ask out (y/n), we’re here for you” Nobara says with complete seriousness. He knows because she paused in her nail painting to stare him down while she said it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat- which he hadn’t been aware of until that very moment- and wildly looked between both of his friends.

Megumi, although slightly disinterested, seemed just as invested as Nobara in this offer. Maybe he was just bored of reading, because he didn’t often follow along with Nobara’s antics unless there was something in it for him, but it was clear in his raised brows that he was waiting for Yuji to say something.

And that’s when the pinkette remembers-

“No way man!” He shouts defensively, standing suddenly from his spot on the floor. “You’re like her best friend! You’re just gonna tell her everything I say!”

Unceremoniously, Megumi points to himself like the statement confused him.

Nobara huffs and rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, you!”

Yuji had his moments of airheadedness, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. (y/n) and Megumi had known each other for a long time. They’d trained together as sorcerers in their younger years and it wasn’t until recently that they even had other classmates. Megumi wouldn’t openly call any of his classmates his friends- at least not until Yuji begged him to admit it- but it had been clear that the bond he’d formed with (y/n) before Yuji and Nobara’s arrival had been built on an unshakable foundation of trust and respect.

To Yuji, that made the pair best friends. And best friends shared everything with each other. Including secrets shared in confidence from other friends.

“So you admit there’s something to be told?” Nobara asks, raising a brow in curiosity.

“I didn’t say that!”

“You sort of implied it” Megumi said.

“Well then I un-imply it!”

“Not how that works” Nobara pipes back in.

Yuji groans, covering his burning face with his hands in the hopes that it helps to hide the giveaway that was his blushing face. It was too late, of course his friends were perceptive enough to have already caught it.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t saying that I-” His stammering only seems to prove the claims made against him, but still, Yuji tries to find the words to explain himself. Probably because there was no way to explain himself. His feelings were made clear in his actions already.

“So you won’t mind if I set her up with the guy at the pastry shop we go to then?” Nobara asks, and before she’s completely finished talking, Yuji drops his hands, and his eyes are wide with panic.

“Guy? Pastries? Why? Does- does she talk to him a lot?”

Nobara glances at Megumi, who’s finally cracked a smile as he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s trying not to break out into laughter, but sometimes those two just made it too hard.

He wasn’t the kind of guy that shared other people’s secrets. If Yuji needed (y/n) to know something, he’d tell her. Tonight was the first night that he’d ever contemplated crossing that boundary. Just so he could see the way she’d light up at the insinuation that the boy she loved could love her back.

It didn’t seem like the storm would let up anytime soon. The rain was hitting the ground harder than ever. If he were to step out from under the awning, he’d be soaked to the bone in just seconds. Standing in the rain actually sounded sort of nice. It might have been a relief, even for just a minute. Or maybe a decent enough distraction from where his mind had wandered off to.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like to think about her. Hell, so much of his time had been thinking about her that he was starting to go absolutely crazy. Even if he knew how to stop, he probably wouldn’t have. He definitely wouldn’t have.

The pipeline from having a crush to being full on crazy about someone was faster than he would have expected. Yuji didn’t have an exact timeline, but he knew that it wasn’t long after meeting her that he was lost in his adoration for her. Soft, warm, all consuming adoration.

“These are really good!” Her eyes were lit up and her mouth was full of food as she praised Yuji for the meal. She was already reaching for another meatball before she’d swallowed the first one. “Your grandpa gave you this recipe?”

Megumi and Nobara, who were also knelt around the table, had given Yuji their compliments as well. But the brightness on his face now outshined his reaction to their five star reviews. With the wide grin splitting his face and wider eyes following her greedy movements to snatch another meatball. Nothing zapped his heart with pure electricity like the way she did just by enjoying his food.

He’s nodding his head in a small, slow motion to her question.

“That’s amazing, I wish I knew how to make anything. Especially something this good,” Her approval was laying itself on thick, but he knew that it was completely genuine. “I’m honestly jealous, Yuji”

He laughs, his face pink from the bashfulness.

“I’m glad you like them,” He says, keeping his gaze focused on the one meatball on his plate that he hadn’t even touched yet.

He couldn’t bear to look over at Nobara, who was snickering through her full mouth. Or Megumi, who was staring so blatantly between him and (y/n) that Yuji thought he might burn up completely if he met his eyes.

So he keeps his head down, for the love of all things good and sane, he kept his head down.

“Well… I’ll make if for you anytime you want”

It takes a lot of courage for him to peek over at her from his peripheral, but it’s completely worth the trembling in his fingers. She’s beaming at him, cheeks full, eyes bright, completely overcome by his generosity and sweetness.

Nobara had to lift her napkin to her face to keep herself from spitting out her food. Megumi finally shifts his gaze to his food, hoping he’ll at least be able to keep it down with all the lovesick nonsense at the table.

Yuji would have to use both hands to count the amount of times he made those meatballs for her. Both out of request, and by his own choice. She definitely was treated to them the most, despite Nobara and Megumi also enjoying the recipe.

But Nobara and Megumi didn’t get them at two in the morning when they couldn’t sleep and wanted a snack. Nobara and Megumi didn’t get them when they were sick in bed with the flu for a week.

And the two would tease him for it relentlessly. Not only because the treatment was unfair- they wanted delicious meatballs too! But of course when they caught Yuji up at odd hours to make her favorite meal, they just couldn’t resist calling him out on it.

Yuji would fluster, but it would never matter once he finished his masterpiece and presented them to (y/n). It was like the entire world would melt away when he was greeted with her pure delight for his food. He wished he could learn to make something else to give her, but it had taken so long for him to learn this recipe from his grandpa, he worried he’d only mess up a new dish.

His throat starts to feel hot. Was that tears? It constricts until he can’t breathe without it burning, and even when he tries to swallow to relieve the throbbing sensation, it remains. Was he going to cry over meatballs?

(It wasn’t the meatballs)

“I have a surprise for you students!” Gojo’s cheery voice wasn’t out of the ordinary, and neither was the little dance of excitement he did as he wheeled up a large box to present to the first and second years.

While no one held any interest, they all remained there, waiting for their eccentric mentor to get the display over with. No one knew what to expect, but they figured it couldn’t have been important.

But then he steps aside and does a grand introduction, and even though he states Yuji’s name, it’s not until the boy is popping out like a jack-in-the-box that it really settles in for anyone that Itadori Yuji was there. Alive.

No one moves. No one even says anything. Yuji’s grinning and holding his hands up in peace signs as he’s returned to his friends, but even his cheerfulness couldn’t penetrate the unsettled trance the first and second years seemed to be in.

“Uh- Gojo- sensei…?” Yuji glanced towards his teacher for some help, not having expected anything other than a warm welcome. However, Gojo was also wincing as he took in his students’ faces.

The second years looked aghast. With Maki’s entire face in a disgusted cringe, as if Yuji was brought back as a zombie. All three of them seemed more shocked than relieved.

The first years also didn’t appear like they were struck with relief either. Megumi and Nobara had gone so pale they looked like they could faint at any moment. With Megumi’s eye twitching and Nobara’s nose wrinkling, they were certainly processing it slowly.

Then there was (y/n).

To this day Yuji couldn’t describe the way she looked at him. He was certain she didn’t blink once. Tucked behind Megumi as if his tall stature could protect her from the boy raised from the dead, she looks more small and fragile than he’s ever seen her before. Her jaw wasn’t dropped like Maki’s, but her lips were parted, trying to form any word that comes to mind. Nothing comes out. Her eyebrows can’t stop pinching and relaxing. Worst of all, the tears that were silently streaming down her face.

Maki was the first to bark out an insult at Gojo for his insensitive display. Panda welcomes Itadori back as he and Inumaki follow after Maki to come up with a plan of attack before the Exchange Event begins.

Yuji awkwardly climbed out of the box he was still standing in, approaching his friends with a frown.

“I thought you guys would be more excited”

“You- you were dead, Itadori” Megumi’s the first to stutter over his quiet statement.

Nobara’s chewing on her lip, but some of the color was returning to her face the longer he stood before her, and she was sure that he was going to disappear like a ghost again.

(y/n’s) left to stare with wide teary eyes, still half behind Megumi, still rendered speechless. Yuji wonders if she even knows she’s crying.

“I’m… I’m glad you’re back. We’re glad you’re back,”

Megumi would love it if one of the girls would speak up. But Nobara still looks like she might be sick, and he hasn’t found the courage to check on how (y/n’s) been taking the last few minutes. He’s pretty sure she’s crying behind him and he didn’t know how to take that on.

“Just in time too, yeah?” He finishes with an awkward cough. Yuji can barely manage a nod before Megumi leaves.

Nobara mutters something of a similar sentiment before she leaves as well. It’s through a cough and a gag, but she tries, and Yuji appreciates it nonetheless.

With everyone else gone, and without Megumi to hide behind, (y/n) seems more exposed now. Never before in Yuji’s presence had she wanted to shrink down into the earth, and she hates feeling that way now.

“Gojo thought that would be fun…” He starts to explain himself, his hand going over the back of his neck. “I’m realizing now that it was probably… really stupid, huh- oof!”

He didn’t get the chance to properly apologize before she crashed into him. It’s so fast, almost a blur, that he nearly loses balance. But her arms are wrapped around his middle so tight he thinks even if he had tripped up, she would’ve righted him with her strong hold with no issue.

“So stupid,” She repeats before pulling away, and finally wiping away the tears on her face with the back of her hands. “You were dead Yuji, you can’t just- just pop out of a box and expect us to think that’s normal!”

“I’m sorry,” He blurts out the apology before he can lose any more time. “I’m really, really sorry, alright? I wish I could have told you guys sooner but Gojo-sensei… well, we thought it was right while I was training. He was just trying to protect me”

She nods in understanding, but it’s shaky, and it was clear that she was struggling to actually understand the whole picture. Yuji couldn’t be upset with her for processing it all slowly. Hell, he wasn’t all too caught up himself. He might’ve gotten ahead of himself a bit with the whole surprise reappearance.

“Look, I get it, I… do,” (y/n) sighs, blinking quickly to rid the last of the tears from her eyes. It doesn’t quite work. “Just don’t ever be that stupid again, alright?”

He chuckles a bit, and for a moment it makes a smile crack on her lips too. It’s wobbly, but it’s enough to warm his heart.

“I know that’s hard for you,” She teases weakly, before sniffling. “But you’re gonna have to try, alright?”

“Alright,” He’s still smiling, but it comes out so genuine it’s heavy. “Promise, I won’t do anything that stupid again”

Her wobbly smile stretches a little more, before a small laugh escapes her.

“Don’t go making promises you can’t keep”

“I don’t”

To his luck, he hadn’t done anything too stupid since his little ‘I’m still alive!’ bit. Well, he was pretty sure, considering she had yet to give him that look she had that day. Thank the gods too, because Yuji’s pretty sure if he ever had to see her cry like that again, he’d die on the spot.

Unfortunately, this means that Yuji learned that day that he couldn’t live with himself if he was the cause of her suffering. Seeing her cry was hard enough, but knowing he was the sole reason for it? Even thinking about it now, his throat burned hotter. His eyes did, too, but he was trying to ignore the blur that kept invading his vision for now.

What the hell was with his emotions tonight? He’d come out here to find some peace while storm watching, and instead he’s standing here reminding himself of everything he’d done wrong in his life.

Falling for someone despite knowing he wasn’t meant to walk this earth for much longer had to have been some twisted punishment for something wicked he’d done in a past life.

Or was it punishment for carrying the most wicked thing within him now?

Swallowing that first finger months ago on a whim to save a stranger’s life, was that the day that sealed his fate?

Was he doomed from the start or doomed somewhere along the way?

Would he be able to live with himself, not for the evil residing inside of him, but knowing that one day he’d have to leave the people he’s grown to love more than anything in the world, and he’d leave them knowing that they wouldn’t see him go without fighting, kicking, screaming-

Wait, did he just see something move?

Shaking his head of his self pitying thoughts, he blinked away the fog in his eyes and tried to focus on where he could’ve sworn he’d seen movement. Sure enough seconds later his eyes were bulging out of his head and he was abandoning his safe and dry spot under the awning in order to take off towards the figure.

She’s half jogging, at such an awkward speed Yuji could only wonder if she wasn’t even rushing to get to a dry spot. Maybe she’d indulged herself in the rain the same way he’d thought about doing earlier. Either way he’s sprinting towards her and closing the distance in rapid time.

He’s surprised upon his approach when he hears her laughter. Sweet and bubbly, as if being caught in the rain was the funniest thing in the world. Even though it had to be intentional, didn’t it? At this hour? She had to have chosen to come outside- much less walk around the campus?

“What are you doing out here?” He hollers over the loud rain once he reaches her.

(y/n) grins at him, and he swears even with the moon in hiding behind the storm clouds, it reflects it’s light onto her somehow anyways. She’s already soaked through, the walk from the girls’ dorms to the boys’ isn’t a short one by design. Even if she was doing a half-jog the whole way over. Her body trembles like a leaf in the wind and Yuji tries to usher her back to where he was, but she seems to have no urgency about her at all.

“Aren’t you freezing? C’mon, you should get out of the-”

“It’s alright!” She waves her hand around to dismiss Yuji’s worries. “I wouldn’t have come out here if I was afraid of getting a little wet”

(Yuji thinks this is why Megumi used to make fun of her for being a manic pixie dream girl. He had yet to fully understand the term himself, but this painted a pretty clear picture. He’ll have to ask Megumi about it later)

“A little wet?” He chuckles, hoping that if he picks up his pace she will too, but she doesn’t. “You’re soaked through”

She just shrugs, and follows alongside him towards the boys’ dorms, where he had been sitting dry just moments ago. That’s long gone now, his tee shirt and sweatpants felt heavy and cold as they clung to his skin. His hair hangs almost in his eyes, raindrops dripping onto his eyelashes and making him rub his eyes from the irritation every few minutes.

It wasn’t very pleasant at all. He’s glad he didn’t step out into the rain earlier. Without her company, it wouldn’t have been worth it.

“What’re you doing out here anyways?” He’s still yelling through the rain, but they’re almost to the peace and quiet of the awning now. “It’s pretty late”

“You’re up too,” She shoots back like it’s a scold, even though there’s still a grin on her face.

He’s dying to know what has her so delighted even in these awful conditions. He’s certain it’s nearing two in the morning- if not later- the storm was so awful they had to yell to hear one another, and now they were both soaked to the bone and shaking like dogs to try and preserve heat. Honestly, everything about this present moment should suck. But it simply doesn’t.

“Which I should’ve expected. Once the storm really started I wanted to come see if you were watching it too. I know you like that sort of thing”

His heart does a stupid flutter at the simple fact about him she’d remembered. It might have also had something to do with her coming all the way here. In the rain. In her pajamas. Her cute hello kitty themed pajamas.

They finally reach the awning and (y/n) gets to work ringing out the hem of her tee shirt. It’s useless, even with the shocking amount of rainwater splashing on the ground, but Yuji doesn’t comment on it.

“You could’ve just texted you know” He mumbles, hoping the dark would hide the heat that rushes to his face. Although, it’s somewhat welcomed, as he’s still shivering a bit from being in the rain.

(y/n) looks up at him, stopping her movements to wrap her arms around herself instead. She was still cold too, but she didn’t say anything about it, didn’t try to rush back to her dorm or anything of the sort.

“Well maybe I wanted to come and see you, too,” She suggests, her smile softening as she gazes up at him.

He laughs, bashfully hanging his head to bite back the smile that threatens to take over his whole face. (y/n) laughs with him, solely for the fact that she’d gotten him to crack just a little bit.

It had been awhile since he’d acted himself around her. Maybe only a few days, but there was a notable change. He wanted to hang out less, was rushing out of class, and training on his own more often. For someone as extroverted as Yuji, it was easy to notice. It had been nagging at her for longer than she would’ve liked, but she didn’t work up the courage to address it until tonight.

“Yuji,”

His name comes out in a soft whisper. Had she spoken so low while they were still caught in the rain, he surely wouldn’t have heard it. It hits him now with the force of a truck. He can’t help but give her every ounce of his attention.

“I’ve been meaning to ask… are you alright?”

The concern laced in her gentle voice has him worrying, too. There was some sort of hypnosis involved whenever she spoke to him, as if she had the power to compel him to answer anything she asked. It was a terrifying ability, however Yuji was convinced she didn’t know she possessed it, so theoretically he was safe. For now.

When he doesn’t answer right away, (y/n) feels an overwhelming need to explain herself.

“You’ve just been a little distant and… and I want to make sure you’re doing okay. It’s okay if you’re not, just…” She trails off for a moment, her eyes flickering between his as she tries to decode whatever heavy emotion is sitting behind them. “Just know I’m here for you if you need to talk, or anything, alright?”

“I know,” He nods back at her right away. Of course he knew. She was the most compassionate person he’d ever known. Just being in her presence relaxed him to a dangerous state of relief. That said, his heart was beating at odd intervals as she displayed this much concern over his well being. “I’m okay, you don’t need to worry”

He tries to convince her with a smile, but she must see through it, because she gives him a puzzled look as her gaze sweeps over him. A beat passes before she takes a deep breath.

“Of course I need to,” It’s not intended for it to come out in a whisper, but it does anyways. “I’ll…” She loses her voice again as her eyebrows pinch together.

Yuji wonders if she doesn’t know what to say, or if she can’t say what she wants to. Either way, he waits with as much patience as he can muster for her to finish.

“I’ll always worry”

When it finally comes out, (y/n) seals her lips together, pressing them just tight enough that she’s sure they won’t let anything slip that she isn’t prepared to say. Although if the pounding heart in her chest has anything to do with it, it very well could all come tumbling out before she could stop herself.

The corners of Yuji’s mouth tilt into a frown as he stares back at her with his own concern. This isn’t right, she shouldn’t be worrying about him. The logical corner of his brain is raising red flags at alarming speeds. He needs to find something to say to right this, before she could put too much of her worry in him. He wasn’t worth worrying about, didn’t she see? He wouldn’t be here forever anyways, there were definitely more worthwhile things for her to focus on.

Instead, all that comes out is a quiet, “Why?”

(y/n) blinks, as if not understanding what he means at first. Her arms squeeze around herself a little tighter to preserve warmth, but really she’s only squishing the cold and soggy material of her pajama shirt against her stomach.

“Why?” She repeats in a soft huff, before shaking her head. “You’ll never really get it, hm?”

The tiniest of smiles forms on her lips as she looks up at him, gauging his reaction. Just like before, he’s got that lost look on his face. It’s cute, the little knot between his brows and the way his frown deepens but only makes his lip jut out in a pout. One of these days she’ll tell him how adorable this look on him is, but right now she’s only seeking to help him understand the way she feels about him.

“Yuji, do you remember when we all thought you’d died, but then Gojo brought you back?”

“Of course” He answers her without hesitation.

“And I cried at you and made you promise not to do anything stupid like that again?”

This time, Yuji nods his head back at her.

“I’d never seen you cry before” He mumbles. Just like earlier, thinking about it makes his stomach squirm uncomfortably.

“Well, that was probably the thousandth time I’d cried over you,” She tells him, and his eyes go wide with alarm. A short, humorless laugh escapes her as she shakes her head at him. “Not because of anything you’d done,” She says quickly, already knowing there was going to be a misunderstanding. “But… we thought you were dead for quite some time, and I… I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’ve never felt like a larger failure as a sorcerer- as- as a person, when you died,”

Yuji’s frown worsens.

“I mean I… I was a wreck, it was awful. I could barely sleep, eat, train- I actually was denied assignments for a while. Gojo thought I would be a liability. I know he was just worried about me, but… what I’m trying to say is it was hard,” Her voice strains and she has to take a pause to even her breathing before her emotions could get on top of her. “Really hard” She adds quietly.

“I… I didn’t realize it was like that,” Yuji mumbles, ducking his head to stare down at the ground. How could he be so stupid? She’d suffered over him and shortly after coming back he’d started distancing himself without an explanation. “I’m sorry, I feel so-”

“No, don’t,” (y/n) steps forward, tilting her chin to catch his line of sight even when he tries to avoid her gaze. “I don’t need you to apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong, not at all,” She even gives him a small smile to convince him. It takes a minute for him to commit to looking back at her. “Yuji, it’s quiet the opposite”

“The opposite?” He repeats, and she nods her head.

Her nerves have her repeatedly pushing her wet strands of hair behind her ears, tucking the same strands over and over to make sure they couldn’t possibly fall out of place. Even though with how wet they were they practically slicked back against her head.

“I’m trying to tell you that I care about you, idiot,” She breathes out the insult so softly, so lovingly that even though it’s nature is cruel, his heart accepts it as the most darling pet name anyone had ever called him. “So I’m going to worry about you… because I’ve lost you before, and I don’t want to go through that again”

It doesn’t dawn on him how much closer she’d gotten to him until he lifts his head and they’re almost nose to nose. Her eyes don’t shy away from his once. They’re soft, and full of his favorite constellations. He melts little by little before her, until his muscles stop shivering.

“I don’t ever want to put you through that again,”

He whispers it as if it’s the most hidden secret he could offer her. With it, his hand reaches out towards her, his eyes landing on the smallest strand of wet hair that she’d missed in her rampant tucking. It’s clung to her cheek from the rain. But his movements still just before his fingers could graze over her skin.

“But…”

He doesn’t have to say it. They both know. There’s no sense in speaking about the thing that they never talk about. It was his burden to carry, wasn’t it? It wasn’t fair to make anyone else carry the weight of his punishment. Even if just for a moment. Even if his back is tired and he longs to love her like a man with no worry about a scheduled death date creeping up on him.

Yuji swallows, hard, trying to keep the unspoken reality just that- unspoken.

But he can’t help but feel as though he owes her an explanation.

“But I’m afraid I’m going to,” His mouth feels dry as he finally tiptoes towards the subject. (y/n’s) face falls. “One day, you know I… I’ll be gone and- and I won’t be coming back again”

As her eyes flicker between his, there’s the smallest of movement in her chin, and incidentally she feels his fingertips ghost over her cheek. Her head tilts towards the warmth of his featherlight touch right away, leaning into it until the pads of his fingers are pressed into her soft cheekbone.

As Yuji tells himself to pull away and step back, he finds the rest of his hand following her movement, until his palm is fitted over her cheek, and the tip of his index finger is finally pushing that stray hair back behind her ear.

“Are you afraid of death?” Her question is murmured so softly it’s almost spoken right into his lips.

He shakes his head.

“No,” He answers quietly. “No, I’m not afraid of death. I’m afraid of… what gets left behind,”

He’s never shared this with anyone before. He’d been bottling up the nasty feelings that come with knowing you’ll be executed for so long that it felt criminal to admit them to her now. Especially when she frowns up at him, and he can see the tears forming in her pretty eyes.

“I’m afraid that I’m going to hurt the people I care about because… because I cared about them” He admits.

When she blinks, a tear escapes, and makes a run for it down her cheek.

“Yuji…” She trails off, a small gasp interrupting her. “You won’t hurt anyone,” She tells him, even as another tear follows suit. Just as it slips past her cheekbone, Yuji’s thumb catches it, and he wipes it away without hesitation, determined to keep her from crying over him anymore than she already has. “We’ll be okay”

“I don’t want to keep making you cry” He sighs, and she reaches up to grab him by the wrist, squeezing onto it as she presses her cheek further into the palm of his hand.

“You’re not making me cry,” She assures him, a watery smile stretching over her lips. “I’m crying because- because what I’m afraid of is that you’ll die not knowing how loved you were,”

His frown finally softens, morphing into faint surprise.

“I would never forgive myself if I didn’t make sure that you know that, every single day, for as long as you live,” She’s stammering a little bit, but there’s a sudden rush that overwhelms her, making her want to spill it all out before it’s too late. “I’ve never… I’ve never felt so moved by another person before I met you, Yuji,” She confesses. “I was just… training to be my best every day just because I thought that’s what you do when you’re in my position but then… then you came along, seemingly out of nowhere, and you turned everything so upside down I could barely see what the right direction was,”

She’s cut off by a giggle that escapes her, and it’s almost out of place, but her entire face brightens with it as she relives that first blossom of feeling he’d sparked in her. She’d never be able to describe to him exactly what he’d done for her, he’d never understand the way he sparked a purpose in her so deep that it made her feel like she’d finally grown a soul, but she could try.

“Yuji, you gave me a reason to want to be a jujutsu sorcerer, you know?” And he doesn’t know, but she continues anyway. “You made me not only want to be a better sorcerer, but a better person. That’s why when you died I felt so pathetic, for not being able to do something, to help you,” She explained. “You were so bright and- and eager to do the right thing even when it was hard, even though you have every reason to just- just do whatever you want, to leave if you wanted…”

She gnaws on her lip for a moment as she processes it all herself. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, but she felt a certain responsibility to tell him the full truth.

“But you didn’t… you… you stayed,” She mumbles.

At this point, Yuji’s too stunned to speak, so he just stood there, frozen, taking in every word she had to say. He doesn’t want to interrupt her, but he’s also at such a loss for words nothing would come out if he tried.

“I’m trying to tell you I- that I lo-”

“Don’t,”

He shakes his head, his hand sliding lower over her cheek, thumb hovering just over her lips, ready to press down if his interruption wasn’t enough to keep her from finishing her confession. But she does stop, and he watches closely to make sure she doesn’t try again, his thumb still hovering just over her quivering lips just in case.

“Don’t say that” He whispers, quieter than the rain around them.

With the hand she still has curled around his wrist, she pulls his hand away, dropping them at their sides.

“Why not?” Her brows pinch together, her heart aching with the weight of the words still stuck inside of her.

“Because, you…” He tries to give her a reason, but it’s not an easy feat. It takes a few tries of him opening and closing his mouth before something actually comes out. “Because you can’t”

She doesn’t like that answer. She frowns back at him.

“Yuji, you-”

“Because if you say that, then when I’ll die, I’ll know it, and I’ll know that I’m letting you down again. I’ll know that you’ll cry over me, and you’ll- you’ll hurt and I can’t- I’m selfish, alright? I can’t cause that, I don’t want that-”

“Yuji,” She calls his name again, this time reaching for him with her trembling fingers, clutching at the front material of his shirt to grab his attention enough to cut him off. “It’s far too late for that now,” She says it with a chuckle and a bittersweet smile forming on her face. Her head tilts at him, just a short angle, but enough that it makes him feel weak in the knees. “Don’t you think?”

No, there’s still time to take this all back, there’s still time to fix this. There’s still time for him to end whatever is happening now and forget that it ever happened.

The faint nod he gives is only received due to the movement of his wet hair. He’s not sure why he’s agreeing with her, but the logical corner of his brain was being squandered by his body’s instant reaction to be honest with her, to comfort her, to make everything okay, anything to keep her from crying.

“Too late?” He echoes the words curiously.

Her smile softens as she nods back at him again, her free hand touching his jaw, so lightly he wants nothing more than to grab her wrist and press her hand into his face until the warmth of her small palm against his jaw was the only thing that he could feel.

She nods back at him, her lips pursing towards the corner of her mouth as she fights the urge to grin back at him.

“Afraid so,” She murmurs back.

They share small smiles and warm cheeks for a moment, and (y/n) becomes a little more sure of herself as she lays her fingers against the length of his jaw.

“But either way, are you gonna let me fess up now?” She asks, and it seems she really was waiting for his approval. “I walked all this way in the rain, you know-”

“When you have my number” He reminds her, and she laughs again, quiet and sweet.

“I felt like the walk”

“During a huge storm?”

“Needed the air”

“You’re soaked to the bone, you’re still shivering”

“And it’s so bad that I wanted to come ‘n see you?”

“I’m in love with you,”

The bantering ends there. (y/n’s) eyes double in size, and her shaking fingers finally still against his skin. There’s no doubt that she heard him, but with how frozen she is before him now it was as if he suddenly lost the ability to understand the language.

Yuji’s cradling her face again, his hands cupped under her jaw and his face so close she could almost tear up again.

“I’m so in love with you,” He says it again for good measure, or just because he couldn’t hold it back now that it was out there. “I…” He shakes his head, a breathless laugh escaping him, before he can’t help but confess one more time. “I love you”

“I love you too” It comes out so fast, as if the blockage in her throat was suddenly removed. It’s followed by the faintest of smiles at first, timid and sweet- it’s the most innocent he’s ever seen her look.

(Compared to the twisted grins she’d wear on assignments and even while training on her own, at least)

The shy smile quickly spreads wider, until it’s a goofy and toothy grin. She can’t contain the spurts of giggles that escape her, because it’s just all too cliche isn’t it? Getting caught in the rain, sharing confessions that might be better left unsaid- and yet they just couldn’t help themselves.

He’s laughing with her, quiet and soft, before his hands drop to her hips and wind around her waist, tugging her against him in a tight hug.

The sticky wet clothes make them both chilly again, but no one seems to mind. Not when she’s wrapping her arms around his neck so tight that their wet clothes are clinging together. They hang on as tight as they can before the wet clothes become too much of a hindrance, and they have to peel apart.

“C’mon,” Yuji’s quick to sling his arm around her waist and pull her towards the door. “Let’s get some dry clothes”

She follows him in, keeping as close as she can and walking on the tips of her toes once they’re inside, just to be sure that they wouldn’t be heard. Even though the thunder was still rolling outside, Megumi was a known light sleeper, and they wouldn’t put it past him to wake up at the slightest creak of a floorboard.

“And something to eat, too?” She whispers, peeking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Yuji nods, smiling back at her. It was ridiculously late, they surely wouldn’t be getting enough sleep to be well rested tomorrow, but that was a problem for tomorrow.

“Anything in mind?” He asks as they creep their way through the halls. The smile she gives him in return suggests that she already knew exactly what she wanted. Yuji can’t say he’s surprised when she answers.

“Meatballs…?”

And it might be a ridiculous ask- because it’s two in the morning and it’ll be at least an hour before they could actually eat the meatballs, but Yuji beams at the suggestion, and agrees to the request right away.

“It’s about time I teach you how to make them, anyways” He says softly.

“Yeah,” (y/n) agreed, whispering just as carefully. “I’d like that a lot”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ lost but now i am found // i can see that once i was blind // tryna take what i could get, scared that i couldn’t find all the answers honey ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

#itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori yuuji x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji x reader #itadori yuji imagine #itadori yuuji imagine #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

hi lovely! would you consider writing part 2 for reader that is remus' roommate and sirius, where they are freshly together? if you don't feel like it that's fine, have a good day darling

Thanks for requesting honey! Hope this is alright :)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

When Remus opens the door, he banishes his surprise at finding Sirius there almost as quickly as he knows he’s not here to see him.

“She’s in her room,” Remus says, stepping aside.

Sirius grins at him, beelining down the hall. He’d been coming around a lot more often lately, and though Remus would like to be annoyed, it’s hard to deny how sweet the two of you are together. After your first meeting, Sirius had begun showing up every weekend, allegedly to hang out with Remus, though you somehow always ended up coming along. Then he started popping in on weekdays, claiming he forgot something at the apartment or was in the area and “thought I may as well stop by to see the two biggest nerds on campus.” According to you, he started showing up at your cafe a short while after that, acting surprised to see you and like he only vaguely recalled Remus mentioning you worked there (after he’d bribed Remus with chocolates for the intel).

You’d only gone on your first date the week before, and Remus had to meet Sirius nearly twenty minutes away from campus afterward to avoid any possibility of running into you as he gushed about the dress you’d picked out (Remus had seen it before you left; it was adorable), how smart you were (Remus knew), the book you were in the middle of (Remus had lent it to you), and did Remus know this and that and that about you? (he did). Sirius spoke like you were the most fascinating creature on the planet, and Remus wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his friend so happy.

When he got home, you weren’t much better. It had taken you awhile to build up the courage, a few days of Remus catching you smiling at your phone or staring off to the side of your book with a dreamy glaze over your eyes, but finally you’d asked Remus (trying to be casual, as if he didn’t know better) about Sirius. It had started with questions about what kind of music he preferred, then what he’d been like when they’d been in school together, and soon Remus was telling you everything he could recall from the moment he met Sirius when they were eleven, surprised and a bit endeared by how eager you were for every story.

The day after that, he’d started getting texts from James asking about the girl that had his best friend so smitten (“Moons, I’m telling you,” James had said, “I keep walking into his room to find him texting with his feet kicking behind him. It’s alarming”). It had begun to feel like all Remus did lately was relay information about you and Sirius to anyone who asked. Frankly, he felt lucky to have a first-row seat to the show, endlessly amused to watch as two of the most self-assured people he knew devolved into giggling fools in the other’s presence.

Now, he can hear you squeal as Sirius bursts into your room, followed by some scuffling sounds, and then Sirius drags your blanket-wrapped form across the floor and out into the living room by your ankle. You curse and twist about, grinning with the sort of animation Remus hadn’t known you possessed until you’d met Sirius.

“Alright,” Remus says in his bored, I’m-so-done-with-your-lovebird-shit voice (he’s had plenty of time to practice it in these last few weeks), “unhand my roommate, Sirius.”

Sirius drops your foot, and you sit up, shaking your head in entirely faked exasperation as you straighten your rumpled hair.

“Moony, do you know she’s been dodging my calls for days?”

Remus quirks a brow. “I heard you on the phone last night.”

“Some bullshit about an exam,” Sirius continues as though he hasn’t spoken. “Can you believe it? You know me, I won’t stand for this sort of treatment.”

“I know you’re needy, Black,” you say, standing with the grace of a monarch despite your polka-dot pajamas and the blanket wrapped around your shoulders and going to sit on the couch, “but I can only afford to feed your ego every so often when my strictest professor’s exam is coming up.”

Remus hums in recognition. “That’s tomorrow morning, isn’t it?”

You nod, brushing a greasy piece of hair behind your ear self-consciously, and Remus watches you sympathetically. He’s not sure how much you’ve let Sirius know, but it’s hard to live in such close proximity to someone and not pick up on their moods. You’ve been horrendously stressed about this exam all week. The coffee maker has been running nearly non-stop, the shower running not at all, and Remus has seen light coming from under your door at all hours of the night.

“Maybe the two of you should go to a park or something,” he suggests gently. “Enjoy the nice weather, relax for a while.”

You look anxious at the prospect of abandoning your textbooks for a few hours, but Sirius is assessing you, putting the pieces together of what this week has done to you. “Good idea, Moons,” he says, and Remus doubts he has to fake any of the enthusiasm in his voice. “What do you think, lovely girl, want to go on a little adventure?”

You hesitate, but in the end time with Sirius is too tempting to pass up. “Let me just get dressed.”

“Ugh,” Sirius complains. “If you have to.”

A few minutes later Remus is watching you both warmly, feeling oddly like someone’s dad, though he’s not sure whose. He can’t help but smile as Sirius fawns over you, telling you how pretty you look and insisting upon tying your shoes for you (“Gorgeous thing like you, doing things for yourself? Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart. Give me a few weeks, and you won’t remember how to tie your shoes or open your own door.”) before opening the front door gallantly. You’re all coy looks and feigned annoyance at his flirtation, but there’s more color in your complexion than Remus has seen all week, and you lean into Sirius when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. It’s all very sickeningly sweet.

“Have fun,” Remus says, waving you out the door. “And Pads.”

Sirius looks back, gray eyes practically sparkling. “Yeah?”

“She’s got an exam in the morning. Don’t get her home too late.”

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steddiewithachance · 7 months

Text

"Likewise"

(Steve shows up to Wayne and Eddie's house with all of his belongings on his back and it makes Eddie remember when he was in the same position)

Dedicated to my lovely and wonderful AND awesome friend, Birdie

Read on ao3 here

Eddie and Wayne have always been pretty inseparable, since Eddie was 11 and made a trek across Indiana to find him. But after all the Vecna shit happened, after the manhunt and the three week hospital visit, Wayne had been especially clingy. Wayne's version of being clingy is constantly asking Eddie to do mundane things with him, it's intense love and worry and near loss disguised as casual invitations.

Eddie is endeared by it even though he'll play his part: roll his eyes and act annoyed like it's a chore.

This afternoon Wayne had knocked on Eddie's door and asked "Hey Eds wanna come out'n watch the game with me?"

And Eddie flung open the door with a huge sarcastic grin. "Me? A sports ball match TV game? You know I wouldn't miss it for the world, Uncle Wayne!" Wayne scoffed and Eddie grabbed his acoustic guitar so that he could entertain himself while he kept Wayne company in the living room.

Which is where they are now. Eddie is spread across the couch. He's aimlessly moving his fingers around the fretboard until he finds a chord that sounds nice while a sports announcer drones on in the background. Sometimes Eddie will look up to find Wayne in his old recliner watching him instead of the game. Eddie doesn't say anything, just gives him a reassuring smile.

It's raining kind of hard today, which normally would be stressful. Eddie and Wayne would be running around the house with buckets trying to catch water from all the new places the rain was leaking in. But with their shiny new government gifted place, they could sit back and enjoy the weather.

Eddie violently startles when someone knocks on the door. He sets his guitar to the side and Wayne turns the TV volume down. "Who is it?" Eddie calls out while walking towards the door.

"Steve." He hears in response.

When Eddie opens the door he's confronted with a very distraught-looking boyfriend. He looks like he's been crying, he has two dufflebags and a backpack, and he's soaking wet from the rain. Eddie immediately steps back and lets him in.

"Sweetheart, what's going on?" Eddie asks closing the door behind them even though he has a pretty good idea what the bags mean. Steve sniffles and lets his stuff fall to the floor. He startles when he realizes Wayne is in the room too. He's quiet for a few moments, maybe composing himself, Eddie thinks. Always trying to be brave and strong even when he doesn't have to, this one.

"Can I sleep over tonight?" Steve asks like it's taking a lot of effort to do so, even if he's slept over a dozen times already. "My parents... I need a place to stay and Robin's out of town and I felt kinda weird letting any of the kids see me like this" Steve wipes his nose but his sleeve is just as wet and he looks miserable, so Eddie reaches out and wipes Steve's nose with his own sleeve.

"I'm gross, sorry" Steve apologizes.

"Of course you can stay here, Stevie, is that even a question? Let's get you something dry to wear-" Eddie tells him, when he's suddenly and overwhelmingly hit with the dreamy feeling of deja vu. He looks back at Wayne wondering if he's thinking the same thing. Wayne's meets his gaze and his mouth twitches into a half smile.

Eddie grabs Steve's stuff and pulls him into his bedroom. After he sets everything down, he gently runs his hands up under Steve's shirt, until it's all bunched up right under his chin. Eddie pulls the wet fabric over his shoulders and off his arms. Eddie leans forward and plants kisses on each of Steve's perfectly freckled shoulders.

Once Steve is all changed and sat on the foot of the bed, Eddie stands over him and wraps a blanket over his head and shoulders like a little burrito. He looks adorable like this, all cozy.

"You want to talk about what happened, or not yet?" Eddie whispers, to keep the energy in the room gentle and light. Steve shakes his head without thinking and looks up at him for reassurance. Eddie leans down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "That's okay, Babylove. You know you gave me crazy deja vu walking through that door with your duffle bags in the rain?" Eddie places his hands on either side of Steve's blanketed head.

"When I came to live with Wayne it was raining too. I always thought rain was a bad omen, you know? But then in english class one year, we talked about how in literature, rain is like symbolic of change and new beginnings. And I thought, 'yeah actually that makes a lot of sense'." Eddie speaks quietly while Steve looks up at him, listening. "Do you want to hear the story of how I met Wayne?"

------------------

1977

When Eddie steps out of the school building he sees that the cloudy sky has gotten darker since recess. That's a bad omen, he thinks to himself, but hears it in his dad's southern drawl.

He makes his way towards the front school gates, twisting his backpack strings together, a nervous habit. A swarm of children, mostly younger than him, begin to unlock their bikes from where they're chained and wheel them towards the street. Eddie pushes his way through the crowd to do the same.

He feels kind of sick grabbing the handlebars of a bike he knows full well shouldn't belong to him. He should have known that when he asked his dad for a bike it would have been stolen from some other poor kid. He feels terrible thinking about the night his dad brought it home and put a sticker over where another kid's name was carved into the paint. He shakes his head and rides over to the tree where he promised to meet his best friend, Daniel.

Daniel's already there waiting for him, talking loudly to some kid from the other sixth-grade class.

"See you Monday!" Daniel yells out as the kid hops on his bike and takes off down the street. Daniel has a smile on his face, always has been better at making friends than Eddie. He's a sweet kid, but kind of naïve.

"Hey," Eddie mutters propping his bike against the tree. Daniel turns towards him and his eyes immediately catch on Eddies forehead.

"I still can't get used to you without hair. It's weird." Daniel says petting Eddie's buzzed head. "I kinda think it looked better before."

"Yeah yeah, I already told you my dad made me." Eddie swats his hand away. "Did you ask your brother? About driving me to Hawkins?"

"Oh yeah... he said it's too far. Sorry." Daniel barely looks regretful. Eddie's heart drops.

"What?! But did you tell him I could give him money and weed?" Eddie's starting to panic. If Daniel's older brother Paul, who just got his license wouldn't drive him to Hawkins, he was gonna have to think of a new plan, and fast.

"Oh no I forgot that part, oops. Well he's picking me up in 10 minutes, just ask him yourself." Daniel complains, and Eddie doesn't blame him for not taking it seriously. Daniel doesn't understand the urgency of the situation, Eddie hasn't really told anyone why he needs to get to Hawkins so badly.

Eventually Paul pulls up in front of them, hitting the curb a little which just screams new driver and Eddie grimaces. Beggars can't be choosers, he supposes. He follows Daniel to the car. The kid gracelessly plops into the passenger seat and Eddie leans down to talk to his brother through the open door.

Paul has long blonde hair that makes Eddie miss his own hair desperately and a scar on his lip that he apparently got while skiing one winter. As always, he looks handsome, Eddie admits to himself and tries not to blush. He shakes the thought.

------------------

"Was he more handsome than me?" Steve interrupts Eddie recounting the story. He's pouting.

"Steve," Eddie exhales exasperatedly, "Not even close. Let me finish the story though."

------------------

"Hi Paul."

"Hey kid."

Eddie's face twists up, doesn't want Paul to think of him like a kid.

"Look Paul, I really need your help. I need to see my uncle and I would really be grateful if you could drive me." And before Paul can object Eddie adds, "I have money and weed that I can give you in exchange."

Paul clearly considers this. "How much?"

"How much weed? Uh I dunno a baggie?" Eddie puts his fingers up to demonstrate how much weed he remembers there being in the bag.

"No no, how much money?" Paul chuckles fondly. Meanwhile Daniel is ping ponging his head back and forth between his brother and Eddie.

"I have like forty bucks. I know it's not a ton, and it's a far drive, but this is really important." Eddie pleads. Paul stares out the windshield for a few moments.

"And you wanted to go tonight?" He asks Eddie who nods fervently. "When would you need a ride back?"

And Eddie looks at Daniel who seems bored by the whole ordeal, who is picking at the netting on his backpack. Eddie knows that if this plan works out, he won't be coming back at all. But Daniel's been good to him and Eddie hates disappointing people, so he does what his father taught him to do: he lies.

"I'm sure my uncle will drive me back, s'all good." And Paul nods his head.

"Okay kid. Let me drop Daniel home and I'll come pick you up from your place." And Eddie's heart skyrockets. Okay shit, he's actually doing this.

"Thank you! Thank's Paul. That's cool of you. Thank you." Eddie smiles big, shows all his teeth even though he's still missing a few. Paul nods and Daniel reaches forward to close the door when Eddie realizes this might be the last time he sees his best friend.

"Wait!" Eddie interrupts and grabs the door.

Paul and Daniel look at him worriedly. "Can- can I have a hug before you go?" Eddie asks Daniel shakily. He feels his throat tighten and his eyes go a little blurry. Fuck! He's always so emotional, despite Al's best efforts to chastise the sensitivity out of him.

"I guess." Daniel says, weirded out by Eddie's sudden change of tone. He unbuckles his seat belt and holds his arms out. Eddie fiercely tugs him in and realizes that Daniel can probably feel him shaking now. "But I'll see you Monday right?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, tries to will his voice to come out strong. He pulls back giving Daniel a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah man, see you. And see you tonight Paul. Thanks again." And instead of looking Daniel in the eyes again he turns away and grabs "his" bike.

Eddie's waiting outside with his bags and a map with directions that he carefully planned out a few nights ago. He's praying to any and all gods that his dad doesn't make it home before Paul get's there. Every time he sees a car turn onto the street he panics and prepares to run.

Despite the bad weather, and Eddie's paranoia, Paul pulls up first and Eddie lets out a huge sigh of relief. Eddie smiles at him and puts his bags in the back seat. The teen looks at him with soft eyes, clearly not as gullible as his kid brother. Knows what's really happening.

"Do you have everything?" Paul asks when Eddie sits in the passenger seat and hands over two twenties and a little bag of weed he stole from his dad's dresser. Eddie nods. "Are you absolutely sure?"

Eddie thinks it would be nice to have a brother like Paul. Never got to know him too well, but he seems to care.

"Yeah man, double and triple checked." Eddie looks into the rear view mirror just in time to see his dad's black pickup truck round the corner. He sinks into the seat. "Shit man, go! Drive!"

Paul startles into action and hits the gas. It doesn't seem like Al notices because he pulls into the parking garage speeding recklessly like he always does. When they're a few streets down, Eddie sits up again and opens the map.

"Am I gonna get arrested for kidnapping you?" Paul worries, wide eyed, as he makes his way towards the highway.

"My dad's afraid of cops. I really doubt he'd call em." Eddie responds before briefing Paul on the directions (ironically) to Hawkins' police station, where hopefully someone will know where his uncle Wayne lives.

It's a quiet drive. Eddie finds that he's not sure what to talk to a 16 year old about and would rather pay attention to directions. He can tell Paul wants to ask what he's running from, but refrains, which Eddie's thankful for. When they're about ten minutes out from Hawkins, it starts raining.

Eddie feels guilty that Paul will probably have to drive two hours home in the rain. He voices this concern, but Paul, the saint he is, reassures him it's no big deal.

Eventually they pull up to the police station and Eddie hauls his bags out of the back seat before coming back around to the passenger side door. He leaves the map with Paul and the set of hand written directions on how to get home that Eddie made for him.

"Thanks again for everything, Paul. Drive safely."

"Eddie do you want me to wait to make sure you get where you're going?" He asks softly and Eddie doesn't remember a time where anyone spoke to him with such care. He wants to cry for some reason. Wants to take him up on the offer, but doesn't want to inconvenience the teenager more than he already has.

"I'm okay, but thank you." As soon as Eddie slams the car door shut and turns towards the station, he starts to cry. He hears the gravel crunching as Paul pulls out of the parking lot behind him. Maybe this was all a mistake. He takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes and steps through the glass door.

"Hello, can I help you?," the woman behind the front desk asks, pushing her glasses down to get a good look at Eddie who is dripping rainwater onto the linoleum floor.

"Yeah. I'm here hoping someone knows where Wayne Munson lives? He's my uncle."

The woman holds up a finger and makes her way to a desk in the back of the station. She clears her throat and starts talking to a man.

Eddie shifts his weight as he tries to make out their muffled conversation. He looks up when a tall man sticks his head out and examines Eddie from across the room. The cop nods at the receptionist and grabs keys from his desk.

"You're looking for Wayne Munson?" The man, "Hopper" his badge reads, says while walking over.

------------------

"That's when you first met Hopper?" Steve interrupts again with a small smile. Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. He nods.

------------------

"Yes sir." He responds to the officer.

Eddie wonders if Al has started looking for him yet. Wonders if Al walked into his room and saw half his belongings gone. Probably not. And even if he did, he'd have no idea where Eddie went. Too uninvolved in Eddie's life to know the names of any of his friends.

"Alright, he lives in the trailer park. Forest Hills. Let me drive you over." Hopper waves his hand and steps into the rain. He opens the passenger seat of his car and ushers Eddie inside.

The thing about this whole situation is that Eddie knows next to nothing about his uncle. Only hears cutting remarks about him from his father once in a blue moon. But it's the kind of cutting remark that might actually mean Wayne's a good person, if it's coming from Al. Eddie only knows he lives in Hawkins, because Al mentioned it once, in passing. "Lives in a little shit hole town no one's ever heard of while I'm out here making it big in the city," he had bragged. But it's not like Al talks enough about Wayne to immediately suspect that this is where Eddie might have ran off to. He's trying to convince himself he's safe now.

Eddie is accompanied to Wayne's door by the officer. Hopper knocks aggressively before Eddie can even get it straight in his head what he's gonna say to Wayne. The rain is coming down hard now. He's hugging his canvas duffle bag to his chest, trying to protect his sketchbooks inside from the downpour.

"Wayne Munson? It's Jim Hopper with Hawkins PD. Open up." Hopper announces, knocking again.

And almost immediately after he knocks, the door opens a crack. Eddie sees a man with greying dark brown hair cut close to his head and a patchy beard. Wayne's eyes drop to Eddie almost instantly.

"Can I help you?" Wayne asks. His accent is stronger than Al's, Eddie notices.

"I have a kid here who claims to be your nephew?" Hopper says gruffly, scratching his mustache. Wayne opens the door wider, looking Eddie up and down with wide eyes.

"I'm uh... Al's kid?" Eddie adds quietly. And Wayne's face goes through a variety of emotions before nodding to the officer.

"Thanks Jim, I'll take it from here." Wayne mutters. Eddie watches as the officer tips his head and offers a "stay dry folks," before getting back into his car.

"Come on in, kid," Wayne says opening his door for Eddie to walk past him. Eddie takes in his surroundings. The place is... sad looking. There's hardly any furniture, just a TV and a recliner in front of a coffee table which is covered in empty beer bottles. In the corner of the room there are a handful of boxes, one of which is filled to the brim with different colored mugs. This confuses Eddie a little, but overall Eddie's not getting a good vibe. Probably still better than living with Al though.

He turns back to see Wayne watching him carefully. Eddie clears his throat.

"I'm really sorry to come unannounced like this. I know we don't really know each other, and you don't owe me anything! But I- I didn't know where else to go and I was wondering if maybe it would be okay if I stayed here for a little? I can sleep on the recliner or the floor I don't need much. I just can't- I can't go home." Eddie is shivering now, he's not sure if it's anxiety from the situation or if he's just cold and wet.

Wayne nods his head and reaches his hand out for one of Eddie's bags. "S'alright kid. Let's get you dry." He took Eddie's bags and set them against the wall. He disappears down the hallway leaving Eddie shaking by the door, before reappearing with a towel. Eddie wraps it around himself while Wayne stands and looks around the place, likely, realizing how uninviting it seems to Eddie.

Wayne walks towards the coffee table and starts grabbing empty beer bottles.

"You don't have to clean for me, I don't mind." Eddie says meekly, but Wayne continues on anyways.

"S'alright kid. Why don't you get changed into something dry. Ya have any dry clothes in those bags of yours?" Motioning towards Eddie's belongings with a hand full of bottles. Eddie kneels and unzips one of the bags feeling around for something dry which most of it is. Eddie pulls out a new pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Bathroom?" Eddie asks quietly.

"Down the hall to your left."

When Eddie reemerges, the coffee table is clean. And Wayne looks up at him, puts on a smile which seems forced. He must be able to tell by Eddie's face that the smile isn't as reassuring as he was going for. He sighs and scratches the back of his head.

"Should I not have come here?" Eddie asks while stepping out of the hallway and towards the door. He's in desperate need of reassurance, just wants to know if he's safe here or not.

"No! You were right to. I mean Al, is he-" Wayne is searching Eddie's eyes for answers. "Is he hurtin' you?" Wayne crosses his arms but then quickly uncrosses them. Clearly uncomfortable, nervous. And it's making Eddie feel that way too.

"Yeah." Eddie admits into the quiet of the room softened only by the sound of rain pattering against the roof. Wayne exhales and rubs his face.

"Fuckin' bastard." Wayne mutters under his breath. "He's a piece of shit, I'm so sorry kid." Eddie just nods, agreeing. "It's uh... Edward right?" Wayne asks coyly. Eddie wonders when Wayne last talked to Al.

"I go by Eddie," he quickly amends.

"Eddie, alright. It's nice to finally meet you then, Eddie." Wayne roots around in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes before thinking better of it and tucking it back into his pocket.

"You can smoke around me, I'm used to it." Eddie shrugs and leans against the wall.

"Yeah well you shouldn't be." Wayne grumbles. He rubs his hands together and claps. "Okay so I only got one bed. I'm gonna wash the sheets and then you can take it tonight. I'll sleep on the recliner there until we figure out somethin' better. That sound okay by you?"

"No! I don't want to take your bed-"

"Just temporarily kid, s'alright. But first let's get you some food. You're as thin as store-bought thread." Wayne grabs a pair of keys off the kitchen counter and jingles them playfully.

"I don't have much around here, so lets go to the diner and then get some groceries on the way back, how's that?" He asks. Eddie nods in agreement.

------------------

"He took me to go get blueberry pancakes. It kinda became a tradition. To get blueberry pancakes any time I had a real bad day." Eddie shares while petting Steve's damp hair.

"What made you leave home that Friday? Before the school year was over?" Steve asks, seemingly distracted from his own problems which is what Eddie was aiming for.

"Al's girlfriend found out I was..." Eddie gestures between the two of them, "you know. She was constantly holding it over my head. Said she was gonna tell him. I didn't want to find out what would happen when she did."

"And he never came looking for you?" Steve furrows his brow. Eddie smooths it over with his thumb.

"I dunno. Maybe he talked to Wayne. But eventually we found out he was sent off to prison for grand theft. He's such a disaster, my god." Eddie sighs and tilts Steve's face up towards him. "Do you want to go get blueberry pancakes, Angel? It's been a day, huh?"

"I'm so sorry to say this, Eds, but I hate blueberry pancakes." Steve shrugs the blanket off his shoulders. Eddie gasps in horror.

"You dare speak ill of my comfort food, Steve Harrington?" Eddie dramatically responds, pushing his forehead against Steve's. Steve smiles and pushes him back.

"I like chocolate chip though." Steve tries to amend. And Eddie nods in understanding.

"Okay princess, let's go get you some chocolate chip pancakes. Can I invite Wayne?" Eddie starts tearing off his pajamas and scrambling around the room for outside clothes.

"Yeah, of course Wayne can come." Steve sighs and lays back on the bed looking much more like himself than he did when he got here.

"'Kay one sec," Eddie pulls on his favorite Judas Priest shirt while he stumbles back out into the living room. "Hey old man?"

Wayne looks up from the TV at Eddie. "Everything alright?" He lowers the volume again, even though it wasn't all that loud to begin with. Wayne always does this, it's like he can't think while something is playing in the background. It's impossible to add commentary when they're watching TV together because he'll either not process what Eddie said or not catch what the TV did.

"Yeah. We were thinking of going to the diner for pancakes, it's been a day. You coming?" Eddie combs his fingers through his hair realizing he probably still has bed head. Wayne looks up at him with shiny eyes.

"I'm proud of you, y'know?" Wayne whispers. This catches Eddie off guard.

"What? For what?" Eddie crosses his arm. Doesn't like when Wayne gets sappy.

"Being a decent kid. Taking care of people the way you do." Wayne gets up and reaches for his keys just like he did in '77. "Real glad you found me when ya did, son."

"Likewise, Uncle Wayne"

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #uncle wayne #wayne munson #wayne munson is a good parent #steddie fluff #steddie fic rec #steddie microfic

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dollfacefantasy · 1 month

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pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary: it's been months since you and toji split. when he shows up at your apartment, you struggle to not fall back into his arms.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, toxic relationship dynamics

word count: 4.7k

a/n: commission for @nexysworld <3

One eye cracks open when a loud pounding sound rouses you from your sleep. You sit up, rubbing your face and yawning. The red numbers on your alarm clock glare 2:37. After a few more moments of it, you register the sound as knocking on your front door. As you drag yourself from the comforts of your bed, you wonder who and why. Who would not only disturb you at this hour, but also be so brash about it? You kind of hoped it was no one you knew so you wouldn’t have to deal with anyone’s bullshit problems at nearly three in the morning.

When you arrive at the entryway and glance through the peephole on the door, your wishes dissipate immediately. Standing outside your place was the biggest bullshit problem you’d ever encountered. You unlock your door and crack it open, the bright light of the hallway making you squint as it casts over you.

“Toji?” you ask, your voice still a bit raspy from disuse.

“Hey baby,” he says quietly. Despite his subdued tone, he still flashes you that grin that lets you know he’s still himself.

“What… what are you doing here?” you mumble. You rub your face again to try and make yourself a little more presentable. Even though he was an asshole and you couldn’t say enough about how you had totally moved on, the sight of his shaggy hair hanging in front of his eyes and the faded scar on the corner of his mouth still made your heart flutter.

“The place I was staying kind of fell through. But you know, it’s kind of a good thing. Brought me back to you. I’ve been missing you a lot,” he says.

You roll your eyes. He must need more than just a night to get himself together with how thick he was laying it on.

He reaches out to stroke the curve of your cheek. His rough fingers drag against the soft skin while the two of you stare at each other. You know you should swat his hand away. Tell him to go to hell. Get lost and lose your number. But you can’t be that cruel. Not to him. Even with everything that’d happened, all the tears he’d caused and days he’d ruined, he was still your Toji. Your bad habit. Your never-ending vice. A piece of you that’d you’d never cut out no matter how rotten it became.

“Fine, c’mon,” you relent. You open the door wider and allow him entry.

“That’s my girl,” he says and steps through.

“Don’t call me that,” you say quietly. You were falling for it, but he didn’t have to throw it in your face.

After following you in, he doesn’t shut the door behind him. You raise an eyebrow.

“Before we catch up…” he starts with a chuckle, “I kind of need you to pay for my ride. I don’t have any cash on me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you ask, walking to the window and looking down. As he said, the cab was waiting outside.

All the dreamy thoughts you’d just had about him being yours no matter what start to have a bleak tint. Your gaze hardens as a harsh sigh leaves your lips.

“Fine, but you’re gonna pay me back,” you say. You stop at the counter to grab your wallet and fish out some cash. Then you slap it into his palm and gesture for him to go. Sure you’d give him the money, but no way were you gonna scamper down there out into the cold in your pajamas.

He leans down and gives you a small peck on the cheek before heading out. You stand in your living room alone. He was still affectionate even though you’d been apart for months. You knew he was that way with his words. The occasional texts he sent you during this break always held copious amounts of “baby’s” and “my pretty girl’s.” You just didn’t expect him to touch you like nothing was different.

You rub your eyes in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. Deciding to be proactive, you occupy the small wait for his return by setting up some things on the couch. You rifle through the closet in the hallway to find some spare bedding. Pillows are easy, you toss two spare ones over to your couch. Blankets are more difficult. You initially grab the fluffy lavender one he gave you for your last birthday. It looked brand new. You hadn’t had much time to use it before you kicked him out. Then when it felt like he was actually gone for good, you’d clutched it to your chest while crying your eyes out for days. But since that week, it remained hidden away in the depths of this closet.

He probably wouldn’t even notice if you did put it out, but he didn’t need confirmation that you hadn’t thrown the stuff he gave you away. So instead, you pull out an old blue one with little fish all over it. You spread it out on the couch as he slips back into the apartment, this time closing the door and locking it. Your back is turned while smoothing out the wrinkles in the plush fabric, so you don’t see him sliding a leftover bill into his pocket.

As you finish up the makeshift bed on the couch, he approaches you. He places a cautious hand on your waist, his fingertips rubbing tiny strokes on your t-shirt.

“You’re really gonna put me out on the couch? I thought you’d want me in bed, all to yourself. Like old times,” he teases.

“I don’t want it to be like old times,” you say.

“C’mon, they weren’t all bad,” he says and pulls you a little closer, “You used to love to cuddle. You’d curl right up to me, give me those little kisses. We had a lot of fun together in that bed.”

You look up at him. His familiar eyes meet yours. It would be so easy to give in. To connect your lips and pull him back to your bed that had been missing his presence for months.

“We did. But not anymore. They’re good memories, and that’s it,” you say, turning your head and stepping away. You needed the distance between the two of you.

You further separate yourself from him by sitting in the chair near the couch. It was a single seat, no room for anyone else to slide in next to you and drape their arm around your shoulders. He knows what you’re doing of course. You can see the look of amusement in his eyes. This was how you got during fights. You just closed off, tried to remove yourself from him and not engage. It was kind of cute you hadn’t changed.

He plays along and sits down on the couch, leaning back into the cushions and propping his legs on your table. The silence between the two of you feels heavy. It fills up the room, suffocating any space words could have gone.

“Do you want a drink?” you manage to get out.

“I’m fine,” he says. And in contrast to you, he did seem fine. He seemed unbothered by the lack of conversation. He looked content to stare at you, drag his eyes over every detail of your figure.

“Are you ok?” you ask. You just couldn’t take the silence.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks in return.

“Cause you said you didn’t have anywhere to go and the place you were staying, something went wrong,” you answer.

“That was nothing, I’m fine,” he deflects.

“Well I just want to know if I should be concerned if there’s a hit out on you or something. If someone’s gonna burst through my door in a few minutes cause you ripped them off,” you say and cross your arms.

“Nothing that serious. Just some lady problems,” he says with a smirk.

A dark cloud forms over your head at this. It wasn’t like he was cheating. You weren’t together anymore. But the thought of him with another woman drove you crazier than just about anything else. And of course he knew that.

“What happened? She get smart enough to kick your ass out?” you say, unsuccessfully masking the bitterness in your tone.

“Something like that,” he says. He pauses, still looking smug as ever. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“You wish,” you respond. He doesn’t seem to believe you.

Another bout of uncomfortable silence crowds the distance between you two. This time it’s broken by him.

“You got anyone I should be jealous of?” he asks.

“That’s none of your business,” you answer without a second thought.

“Guess not. I mean if you did, you probably wouldn’t be letting me crash on your couch. And anybody who was a real threat would be here. Would’ve answered the door instead of you,” he mocks.

You roll your eyes yet again. “You’re so smart,” you say.

He shrugs. “Only when it comes to you.”

Rage boils within you. You know you shouldn’t feed into him, give him what he wants by getting all riled up. Your rational mind knows this. But the irrational part of you loves the game. Walking as close as you can to the line without stepping across. Pulling and pulling until you feel something about to snap.

“Well I’m not like you. I take a while to move on since you actually mattered to me. I just can’t jump into someone else’s arms and pretend that nothing is different,” you say.

“Don’t start that shit. Don’t act like I’m some cold-blooded asshole who broke your innocent little heart,” he says. His eyes don’t leave you once.

“You did break my heart and you are a cold-blooded asshole, so tell me where the lie is,” you challenge.

“You aren’t innocent,” he states, “You could get just as nasty when we were fighting. And you’re the one who broke up with me.”

“Because you are a dick. Cause and effect. If you weren’t so insufferable, we wouldn’t have so many fights, and I wouldn’t have broken up with you,” you point out.

“So it’s all my fault? You never do anything wrong? Whatever you say, baby,” he says, now taunting you with the pet name.

“I didn’t say I never do anything wrong. But everything we fought about is because you did something stupid,” you say.

“I make a little mistake once in a while and you blow up on me. I think you just like fighting,” he says.

You dig your nails into the flesh of your arm to keep your temper from flaring. You begin to wonder if it’s too late to throw him out again. Part of you had the urge to go back in time and slap the version of yourself that let him in cause he was “your Toji.” But really, this was your Toji. Your Toji with his sleazy smile, dumb shaggy hair, smug eyes, and chilling voice. This was the man who had you hopelessly trapped.

“Whatever,” you huff, determined to prove him wrong. You rise from your chair and walk towards the hall that leads to your room. “I’m going back to bed. Do what you want, just stay out of my room. If you want to change, I can bring you some clothes.”

“You have clothes here that will fit me? Maybe I should be jealous,” he says, leaning forward and resting an elbow on his knee.

And instead of taking advantage of his assumption, like he would have done to you, your mouth opens and words fly out before you can even think of that.

“They’re your-” you start, your mental brakes screeching to a halt. Suddenly, you felt so stupid for putting so much thought into avoiding the purple blanket.

The smile that breaks out on his face is so wide it’s almost unsettling. It would be if it was anyone else.

“Aw baby,” he coos mockingly, “You didn’t get rid of my clothes? You still been using ‘em? Cause that’s fine you know. I like it when they smell like you.”

You didn’t even know what to say. You had used them a few times since he’d been gone, but it wasn’t like a regular thing. You did like that they smelled like him, and you liked hearing that he felt the same way about you. But he couldn’t win.

“Just shut up. Do you want them or not?” you say and look away.

“No, baby. I’ll be fine. Thank you,” he says, every word dripping with condescension.

You slink away without returning the courtesy. It takes you no time to collapse back into your bed, but resuming the sleep he had torn you from proves more difficult. Your thoughts just keep drifting back to him. You toss and turn, legs kicking away the blankets and then arms pulling them back.

He really was out there on your couch. You thought you may never see him again. You’d broken up a few times before over different small things, but this time felt different. It was supposed to be for real. But just like that, he came back.

Now that he had returned, you felt the dull ache for him returning as well. You had hoped it shrunk over time until eventually it didn’t exist, but here it was, showing itself again. You know you shouldn’t, but you were starting to regret not asking him to join you. He was fucking infuriating, but you had missed him so much. He could help push away the memories of loneliness that had occupied your bed in his wake.

After nearly an hour of this, you manage to slip into some form of sleep. It felt like you were still awake, but far away. You were floating, drifting around aimlessly. You were resting, but you probably wouldn’t feel that way if you woke up right now.

You’re deep enough that you don’t hear your door creaking open. You don’t feel the mattress dip slightly with additional weight. You don’t sense your blanket being lifted as another body slides in next to yours. You only begin to wake once you feel his skin on yours, his thick arms wrapping around you and pulling you close.

You babble tiredly as he presses kisses to the back of your neck. Humming in confusion, you turn and crack your eyes open to see what’s happening.

“Toji?” you croak when you register his face so close to yours.

He’s still kissing up and down your neck. His fingers trace little patterns on the skin of your waist. Once you realize it’s him and what he’s doing, you squirm. You whine and try to pry his arms off you.

“Stop. What'd I tell you? Quit it,” you grumble as you struggle more with him.

He squeezes you tighter and nuzzles you. “But it’s cold out there, sweetheart. Lonely too,” he murmurs.

“Don’t care. It’s the couch or the curb, so take your pick,” you yawn.

“Baby, it’s me. I’ve been missing you so bad. And I wasn’t being a very good guest before. Let me make it up to you a little,” he whispers.

“No,” you whine, “Make it up by letting me sleep.”

“You can sleep whenever. I’m here right now,” he purrs. His fingers ghost along your waist making you squirm and whine at the slight tickle.

“Why do you always have to be so annoying?” you huff and try to readjust to be comfortable within his hold since he shows no signs of letting up.

“You know you like it.”

He pulls you tighter against him and drags his nose against the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent. It felt good, natural more than anything else. Like this is how things should be.

“Has anyone been in this bed since I left?” he taunts.

“You already asked me about that, and it’s still none of your business,” you respond.

“Can’t be too careful. Especially with a cute thing like you,” he says.

“Just shut up and go to sleep. Count yourself lucky I’m not forcing you back to the couch,” you say as if you could actually force him to do anything.

“It’s been months. You really want sleep more than you want me?” he teases and nips at your earlobe.

The drag of his teeth on your flesh pulls you back into the waking world a bit more. Your sleepy eyes open more and take in the sight of his face. He looked almost innocent in a way, like he was truly just asking for another chance to connect.

He leans in for another kiss, this time catching your lips with his own. His toned chest and abdomen pressed against the softness of your side, and despite his claims of being cold, he felt like a space heater the way warmth radiated off him.

You indulge him a bit, gently reciprocating the affection for a moment. But after a few soft movements of your lips, you pull away.

“We can’t… I shouldn’t do this,” you whisper through the darkness of your bedroom.

“Why not?” he says back. His fingers rise to your face, stroking over your temple, from your hairline to your cheekbone.

“I can’t do this again. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of believing you’ll be different and then you’re not. And then we break up again and then make up a little bit later. It’s exhausting,” you sigh.

“It will be different this time, babe. You recognizing this stuff shows that it will be,” he says and brushes his thumb over your lips. He moves even closer to you, as close as he possibly can be. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs.

The soft hum of his voice alone made you want to give in. Combine it with his gentle touches and firm body, you were fighting with your urges to let him ruin you. Your head tilts back to contemplate, and he takes advantage of the position to start peppering kisses on your throat, sucking love bites into the sensitive flesh.

“Toji,” you whimper, “Stop, you’re gonna leave a mark.”

“I wanna leave a mark, baby. Gotta remind everyone that you belong to me. Can’t have you forgetting either,” he mutters.

A breathy whine floats through your room, and one of your hands laces itself in his hair. You close it into a fist, giving the dark locks a little pull. Your mind was an echo chamber of don’t don’t don’t stop stop stop. But familiar heat bloomed between your legs as his large palm coasted up your side to find one of your breasts. The sound of his lips on your skin and his shallow breaths gave you heart palpitations.

“I didn’t forget,” you gasp softly as his fingers dig into your tit.

“Yeah? So you’re all mine still?” he teases.

“Mhm,” you hum, taking the last step to giving in.

“That’s right,” he says. You can feel his smirk against his neck. “My baby. Back where she belongs.”

“I missed you too,” you whimper as he continues the assault on your neck.

“I know you did,” he breathes as his tongue slides over your skin.

His hand continues to grope your breast. You arch into his touch, a wordless plea for more. He snakes the limb beneath the thin fabric of your shirt and finds your soft skin. With no barrier separating the two, his fingers toy with your nipple. They pinch and pull, twist and tease. They’re merciless until he feels the small bud start to peak. That acts as his signal to direct his attention downwards.

He moves to be more on top of you. His thumbs hook beneath the hem of your shirt and pull it up over the swell of your chest. Immediately, his mouth latches onto the nipple his fingers had neglected. His saliva coats the area as his tongue laves on the skin, getting it to rise to attention just as the other day.

“Been missin’ these perfect tits,” he mumbles before using his mouth again, “No one else could take care of ‘em like me.”

You whine and squirm a bit, your hands staying firm in their grip on his head. You nod along with his words. A completely thoughtless gesture. You didn’t even fully register them. Your mind simply believed he couldn’t be wrong while making you feel so good.

As he works on warming you up, he begins peeling off your clothing. Your shirt comes over your head and falls off the side of the bed. Your bottoms are next, slid down and flung away from the two of you. He kisses down your belly before leaning back on his knees. His shirt meets yours on the ground when he pulls it off.

You’d seen it so many times before, but you couldn’t help gawking at his figure. Your fingers glide up his abdomen, feeling every ridge in his abs. He smiles down at your wondrous expression.

“Remembering exactly what you missed, hm?” he asks.

You reach up to pull him down to you at the same time he starts lowering himself. Lips collide and hands slide all over now bare skin. Your fingers find the familiar grooves on his back that they always dug into when he was buried deep inside you. His digits snake beneath your panties and slip between your folds.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he laughs against your mouth, “That’s probably just her natural reaction when I’m around though.”

You grumble in response and try to mute his words by making out. He cuts you a break and does shut up for once while rubbing your pussy some more and getting your panties off. It’s not long before he follows suit by freeing his cock and brushing it through your slick.

“Time to see if she’s as tight as I remember,” he grunts as he lines up and then sinks in.

Your heat engulfs him like it’s a natural fit. Your walls squeeze around him, the massaging sensation making his breaths more labor.

“Fuck… might be tighter. Think she’s begging me not to leave again,” he teases.

He begins thrusting, working his hips back and forth. He’s so big that he’s instantly hitting pleasure spots. You sigh and wrap your limbs around him more.

“Just be quiet,” you whimper as your cheeks burn.

“Not a fan of me making fun of you?” he mocks, “Doesn’t shock me since you didn’t before. You’re just usually more agreeable while stuffed full of cock.”

You go to argue, but the words in your throat die and shrivel up into a whine. Your body rocks with each of his motions. He’s not even going that hard yet, but you still feel his raw strength as his muscles flex against you.

“Aw, it’s ok, dollface. You just go a little dumb. It’s only natural for bratty girls like you,” he coos.

The whole time he continues, in and out. You stay tight around him, and you start thinking his theory about you not wanting him to leave may have some truth to it. This felt so good. So much better than the couple guys you’d had in between. And even though you are going to be fucked dumb soon enough, you’re not totally there yet.

“The only time you don’t act dumb is when you have your dick out,” you say between soft sounds of pleasure.

He grips your hips harder upon hearing your words. “That so?” he grunts. He picks up the pace, his pelvis making a loud noise every time it slams against your ass. “Like I said, the only time your silly little head isn’t clouded by your attitude is when I calm you down on my cock. So shut it and let all those thoughts melt away.”

And you listen because despite your little comments, you liked how it felt to lose everything except him. You couldn’t live without the feeling that nothing else in the world mattered but you and him. All your worries that plagued you during every other moment of the day transformed into distant ideas as the feeling of him battering into your cunt moved to the forefront.

And as much as you love feeling it, he loves watching it. He loves watching your eyes blank and become thoughtless, totally dependent on him to guide you to release. He was obsessed with the way you’d start to drool. Your inhibitions all but disappeared, and he couldn’t get enough. He’d never admit it to you, but he could never find anyone else with reactions that captivated him as much.

After an extra sharp thrust, your body seizes up and you shriek. “Toji!” you cry out.

“Mhm, never too dumb to remember that, are you? My little slut always knows who owns her,” he says.

You nod mindlessly, your head bobbing in wide movements. “Fuck me so good,” you babble, “No one else. Don’t want anyone else. Always gonna be you.”

“Good girl,” he grunts, “Pussy’s all for me. Takes me like it was made for me.”

“It’s all yours. Nobody else gets it,” you whine.

“Gonna be mine forever. Just look at you. No one else could do this to you. You ever fuck anyone else, and all they’re gonna get out of it is that they’re not as good as me,” he moans while ricocheting his hips off yours.

You gasp, getting to the point where words are an unrealistic concept.

“All your neighbors already know who this pussy belongs too. I’ve got you trained so well, I know my dumb little girl calls for me whenever she cums, even when I’m not there,” he whispers. His voice was starting to strain under the proximity of release. “Even when you’re just soooo mad at me. You press your toys to that pretty little clit to blow off steam, and you can’t help but cry out-”

“Toji!” you mewl as if he had been asking you. It was good to know your mind was still good for at least one word.

He grins like a madman and drills into you harder. Your limbs flail and your noises become short and rhythmic.

“You take any cock from any guy, and what are they hearing the whole time?” he asks.

“Toji!” you repeat.

“What was that? Don’t think they could hear you.”

“Toji, Toji, Toji,” you sob out.

“Good baby. Perfect little whore all for me. Never letting you go again,” he grunts.

“Never gonna be apart again. Gonna be yours forever,” you mumble.

Both of your breathing is picking up. Your chests puff against each other as your sweaty skin rubs against one another. It’s all a blur at the end, like always. You think you cum first, but as soon as you hit that high, you pretty much black out. The room spins and your vision fills with stars. All you really register are his groans that make your tummy flutter, and the feeling of his warmth flooding your pussy as he shoots his load inside.

This time though, the after part is fuzzy too. You vaguely feel him pull out and guide you to lay against his chest. You feel his lips against your head and his large hands cradling you close, but then you’re gone. You pass out and sleep till late in the morning.

By the time your eyes reopen, the room is full of sunlight. You take a second to remember the previous night and all that happened. Surprisingly, a sense of regret didn’t crash into you like a swat van. You actually feel some sort of satisfaction. You feel sated. The ache is gone at least for now. You have him back. As he opens his eyes and sits up to give you a kiss, you return the gesture in full.

“You gonna stay a while?” you whisper.

“Yeah. No reason for me to leave,” he says.

You give him another kiss before he lies down again and pulls you onto his chest again to rest some more. You sink into his toned body. He was yours again. You could admit now that you never stopped being his. As you lay there and absorb the dreamy atmosphere in your room right now, your poor heart truly believes that this time will be different.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro imagine #toji fushiguro smut

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neowinestainedress · 2 years

Text

wrapped around your fingers | lee jeno

title: wrapped around your fingers

pairing: CEO!lee jeno x fem!oc/reader (no name, no descriptions, third person) | mentioned: na jaemin

genre: smut, CEO!au, established relationship, fluff (if you squint) | requested

summary: Jeno finds out he has his girlfriend wrapped around his fingers... well, in a way he doesn’t quite expect.

warnings: smut, office sex, fingering (with rings on), oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, orgasm denial, minor impact play (pussy slaps), orgasm control, multiple orgasms, vibrator, light bdsm (spreader bars), squirting, rough sex, mirror sex, fingers sucking, hair pulling, hand around the throat (not chocking), minor cum play, aftercare, dom!jeno, bratty-sub!oc/reader

words: 8.009k

a/n: that’s what happens when you make me write about my strongest weakness. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know with comments, reblogs or asks!! | credits for the picture © somnia

The sound of her heels resonating through the building made heads turn around, staring at her as she walked through the corridors toward the elevator as if she owned the place.

She smiled at some of the workers she knew, mostly because she sneaked into meetings with Jeno even if she shouldn’t have been there.

She never should’ve been here, to be honest. Not even now. But after an entire week without seeing him, she was going insane.

When the elevator rang, signaling it had reached the 10th floor, she walked outside, briefly waving at the secretary at the front desk, slightly surprised to see her there, before she walked straight to Jeno’s office.

Pushing the big black door open, she stepped inside.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll call you tomorrow for the deal.” There he was. Busy over the phone, turned to look outside at the big windows behind his desk, turning around in surprise when he heard the sound of her heels against the floor.

He shrugged the surprise off his face, trying hard to concentrate on the phone call that didn’t seem to end. It was surely with an old client (both for the long-lasting partnership and for his age) and Jeno couldn’t just shut him off like that.

So, she sat on the black leather chair in front of his desk, waiting patiently for him to be free. Not that she minded staring at him, there was something dreamy (and hot) about him right now. The warm sunlight peeking from the windows hitting him. The way his toned legs were wrapped into the pants of his suit, the white blouse tucked inside, and the sleeves rolled up revealing his arms. Then her eyes fell on his fingers, they were tracing invisible lines on the black wooden desk, slim, veiny and adorned with the silver rings he always used to wear.

But something she couldn’t take her eyes off was the new watch on his wrist. It was objectively beautiful but there was something about the way it looked on him. And reminding herself how expensive it was almost made her have a heart attack again. There was something powerful behind it. One of the many signs of all the things Jeno had accomplished at such a young age. Sure, he couldn’t act as if his father’s support hadn’t been vital but he still walked on his own legs and she was incredibly proud of him.

So lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize Jeno had hung up and was talking to her.

“Are you with me?” Jeno asked her, waving his hands in front of her face.

She blinked repeatedly, only now realizing he had moved from behind the desk. “Mmh? Yeah, just waiting for you to get off the call,” she replied, legs crossing over each other as she shifted on her seat, the fabric of the mini skirt she was wearing rising up on her thighs.

“Are you sure?” Jeno asked, tilting his head and staring at her. His eyes landed on the exposed skin of his girlfriend before raising up, watching with a smirk how she was scratching her neck. “Why are you here? You know I’m not done, yet.”

She hummed, wetting her lips. “I missed you,” she pouted, “You’ve been away all week.”

“I told you I was going to pick you up tonight,” Jeno replied. “You really can’t last that long, can you?” He teased, before leaning close to her to kiss her.

It wasn’t like he didn’t miss her too. As much as he loved his job, he hated when he had to leave and she couldn’t come with him.

She shook her head when he moved back, biting her lips as her eyes got lost once again in his arms and veins.

“Hey,” he called her, making her head snap up, meeting his face painted with a smirk. “Oh, is this a new thing?”

“What?”

“What? I was talking to him, but I saw you staring,” he said, thumb and pointer finger pinching her chin to make her look at him. “I thought it was just my fingers but apparently you’re drooling on something else.”

“I’m not drooling,” she said, trying to defend herself, acting as if she wasn’t caught with her hands in the cookie jar.

Jeno chuckled, sitting on the desk, rolling his sleeves up more, her eyes inevitably falling there once again, thighs rubbing together subtly — at least she thought — when the toned muscles of his arms flexed. She had no idea where he also found time to hit the gym, but unfortunately, he did, and that was the price to pay.

“Do you like this watch, baby?” He asked instead of talking back, moving the expensive watch with his other hand. “Like the way it sits on my wrist?”

She hummed, shifting more on the chair, feeling herself get wetter and hotter now that he was standing this close.

“Or is it my rings?” His hand started to trail on her neck before he brushed it against her breast, skin slightly exposed by the top she was wearing. “Or maybe my veins, you love them, don’t you?”

“Ye-yes. Jeno, please,” she pleaded, looking at him with begging eyes.

“Please, what? I have work to do,” he said, pulling away, and walking behind the desk.

“No, no, please,” she whined, standing up from the chair, already feeling her legs weak. “Just your fingers.”

Jeno chuckled, shaking his head. “Just my fingers? You want me to believe that will be enough for you?”

“It will,” she whispered, sitting on the desk. “Please, I’ll be good.”

“Come here,” he called, tapping his thigh, pushing the black chair back, just enough so she could sit on top of him. “I’ve got some emails to take care of.”

“What?” She asked, eyes wide and looking at him with disappointment.

“I told you, baby, I’m busy,” he replied, turning the chair so he could pay attention to the computer. But while one hand was on the mouse and skimmed through the things he had to do, the other was on her thigh, caressing the soft flesh of her skin.

“Can’t you just make one of your secretaries answer?” She asked, resting her elbow on the desk to lean her face on the palm of her hand, eyes fixated on the computer, cursing every single person and company that had sent him something to check.

“They already did. These need my approval before they can be sent away.”

Jeno wanted to concentrate on his job, he should’ve done that if he didn’t want to deal with this on Monday morning, making them pile up with some other things he had to do.

But when his girlfriend wanted something, she was going to get it. He knew her, she was like that since the first day they met, sitting next to each other in one of the uni classes they shared. Her determination was scary… but hot. He couldn’t deny that the way she loved to play around was one of the things that brought him to his knees.

And if he knew her, she knew him just as well.

She knew what she was doing when her ass started grinding against his crotch. She knew what she was doing when her fingers were teasingly grazing his hand on her thigh. And she knew what she was doing when she started to let out forced fake moans.

Jeno knew what her real moans sounded like, nothing of the pornographic whimpers and groans she was letting out just to get a reaction. And he was never going to make her fake it, not even if it was all a game.

So he closed the email tab and turned around.

“Go lock the door, come on.” Those were the only words she wanted to hear, and with a big smile on her face, she sprinted to the door and came back to him in a second.

“You need me that badly, baby?” He asked with a teasing tone, still sitting on his chair, legs spread open and she could make out his hard cock.

She hummed. “You made me starve for a whole week,” she pouted, letting him sit her on the desk how he wanted, big hands cupping her ass and squeezing tight. “Not even a picture of you. And you even barely answered the phone.”

He chuckled, shaking a strand of hair out of his face before his fingers started tracing her legs, his touch soft like a feather, and that was enough to make her heart start racing.

“It was a long week, babe,” he whispered, starting to kiss her neck, nibbling her skin ever so often, eliciting the first real moans of pleasure out of her.

“You’re wearing one of my favorite skirts,” he commented, pushing the Balmain knit buttoned skirt up. “Let’s see if you also have matching panties,” he chuckled, smirking when he saw the pastel pink laced panties sitting on her. “You came here with a mission.”

“Maybe, or maybe I just know how to catch your attention,” she winked.

“As if you need to dress up to catch my attention,” he replied. “Take the shirt off, want to see your boobs in that pretty bra.” He also knew the set she was wearing, he had gifted it to her after coming back from a long trip and it was one of his favorites.

Her hands swiftly reached the hem of the top, lifting it over her head and throwing it on the chair where she was sitting before.

“Beautiful,” Jeno whispered, face buried in the hollow of her boobs to leave kisses and light bites. Hand cupping her breasts and squeezing, eliciting a moan from her. “Missed feeling my hands around your boobs? Missed feeling how they fit perfectly in the palm of my hand?”

“Jeno, please,” she whimpered, hips rolling trying to find friction somewhere just to be met with disappointment.

“Want my fingers, baby?” He cooed, fingers trailing over her pastel pink laced panties, moving in circles. “Want them buried deep inside of you just how you like it?”

She hummed, head thrown back and lower lip bitten by her teeth to keep it low. But she failed as soon as Jeno moved the crotch of the panties to the side, leaving her bare and exposed to the chilly air of the room.

“Look down,” he ordered, “want you to watch how good I can fuck you.”

Her eyes moved down, feeling more wetness drool out of her just at the sight of him pulling her panties down her legs. She fought against the want of throwing her head back when he pushed two fingers inside.

“Fuck, I missed you,” she cried, nails dragging against the desk when he started pumping in and out, long, slim, veiny fingers curling inside of her, hitting her sweet spot just how she liked it.

“Yeah, I can see it,” Jeno chuckled mockingly. “Look how easily they go in and out. Maybe we should film this so you will miss me less when I’m gone, ugh? You’ll use it to get off when you’re all alone at night?”

She moaned, legs falling more open and ass sliding toward him.

“Look at how wet you are. You’re dripping on my desk. Do you know how expensive this was?”

She shook her head, she could imagine, but she didn’t care.

“Faster,” she simply mumbled, meeting his eyes.

“You’re so fucking greedy,” Jeno mocked but his wrist started moving faster, the cold metal of the watch hitting her mound making her go insane. “You don’t even care that someone might come in?”

“They can’t,” she argued, closing her eyes.

“But they sure can hear you. Your dirty pussy is so loud. Can you hear it, baby?” He teased, moving even faster, lewd wet sounds resonating in the room making her body burn up in shame. “Hear how messy you are. All of this for two fingers?”

“Yeah,” she moaned, hips grinding against his palm, one of her hands wrapping around his wrist to feel him more.

“Are you close already?” He asked with a fake pout, fingers moving so fast inside of her that the veins of his arms popped out even more and she lost it. She came hard. Body slumping behind against the desk, and moans spilling out of her mouth too loud that Jeno had to cover her mouth with his hand, legs shaking as finally, he gave her what she wanted.

“Too – too much,” she cried when he slapped her swollen cunt after pulling out of her, leaving her empty and leaking.

“Is it?” He cooed, doing it again, making her moan. “You came here just for this and now it’s too much?”

“Mhh,” she whimpered when the third slap hit her, cum splashing on her thighs and his pants at every hit.

“Is your clit sensitive?” He asked, starting to slap her rapidly, not hard but fast enough that she could feel herself come again, clit throbbing and cunt clenching around nothing. “Are you gonna come from this? Really, baby? Wasn’t it too much?”

“No, no, please, please, Jeno,” she cried, grabbing his hand and placing it back where it was, but the only thing she got was one last slap before Jeno pulled away. “And this one is for the naughty video you sent me one day after I left.”

She whined, throwing her head back. “I thought you forgot about it.”

Jeno laughed. “Think I can forget about you screaming my name while you fuck yourself while I’m not there? You know the rules, baby, and it’s dumb of you to think I wouldn’t punish you for not breaking them.”

She wanted to complain but her attention was brought to something else. “What are you doing?” She asked when she saw him unbuckling his belt.

“Doesn’t it seem obvious?” His pants fell on the floor, followed by the black boxer, revealing his hard cock.

“No, if you keep up with your words of before.”

“You think I can really go on for the rest of the day with a boner cause by you?”

She shook her head, not able to hide the smile that was forming on her face at the anticipation of being fucked on his desk.

“On your knees.”

Her eyes widened at his words. “You won’t fuck me?”

“I told you,” he replied sternly. “Tonight. If I want to.”

She huffed but obeyed. She surely wasn’t going to turn off the offer of sucking him, but the idea of having to wait longer to finally feel him inside her again was driving her insane. Also, she knew that if she acted like a brat more, he was probably going to make her wait for a week before she had sex with him again.

“Suck my cock,” he ordered after giving it a few strokes. “Show me what you were doing with your dildo in that video. You’d suck on anything.”

She started slowly, licking him all the way down to the base to get him wet before she wrapped her lips around his tip, sucking hard just there, making him groan.

“Don’t tease me,” Jeno warned, voice low and eyes glaring at her. “I don’t have time for that. If you — fuck — want my cock in your pussy tonight, you better don’t make me stay after hours.”

And that was enough to make her move up and down on his length.

“Shit,” he stuttered through gritted teeth, looking down at her, chest panting as he watched how focused she was on him. “Missed your mouth so much.”

Her hums vibrating around him made him push forward, catching her by surprise.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned when she started moving on him at a slow rhythm, his sensitive tip hitting the back of her throat with every bob of her head. “Always taking my cock so well.”

Her eyes looked up at him, smiling, her heart swelling with pride.

“You’re so good. Taking it all even if it’s so big. You love sucking me, don’t you?”

Hearing his words she started moving faster, cheeks hollowing all while she kept her eyes on him.

Jeno loved watching her going down on him. He loved seeing her eyes water and the endearing furrow that formed between her eyebrows.

“I won’t last longer,” he warned her. It had been a week even for him and he was extremely weak for her. “Fuck,” he groaned when she wrapped her hands around his base and started moving them while her lips sucked hard the first half of his cock. “Shit, shit, gonna come,” he groaned before his hips stilled and came into her mouth, head thrown back, eyebrows knitted together and mouth open, letting out groans and moans that only got her wetter and madder that she wasn’t going to get anything.

“Damn, babe,” Jeno sighed, gulping before helping her stand up, not minding about putting his cock back into his pants and kissing her. “I love you, you know?”

She hummed, slapping his ass playfully before walking back behind the desk, and pushing her skirt down.

“Running away from me after I gave you what you were begging for?”

“You didn’t give me what I wanted,” she replied, grabbing her discarded shirt on the chair and putting it on while Jeno fixed his clothes back in place.

“You can’t always get what you want,” he reminded her. “By the way, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a bit more for the big thing.”

“Until we go back home, yeah, I know,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“Nope,” Jeno said. “My father invited me tonight to one of his clubs.”

“Oh,” she whispered, trying to don’t appear as disappointed as she was. Club nights weren’t anything crazy, it was just music and alcohol while boring businessmen — that weren’t as cool as her boyfriend —discussed their next moves and plans. “I thought we could at least spend some time together. I miss you, not only for the sex.”

“I know, and I miss you too, that’s why you’re coming with me.”

“With you? There?”

“I have no intention of listening to them talking about business for a whole night while drinking soju,” he said. “Also, if I leave you alone at home you might pull your dildo out again.”

She glared at him, but then shrugged off the last comment, making him chuckle. “I will be so out of place.” She didn’t mind spending time with him, but there? All they did was talk about economics, statistics and other things she didn’t care to listen to.

“You are never out of place,” Jeno reassured her, his attention once again on the computer as he cursed lowly because he had too many things to do. “Also, I bought you a new dress, you could use try it on tonight.”

“Another one? You don’t have to spoil me so much.”

“I love doing it,” he smiled. “And, back to my father... You can be the reason we can leave first.”

“Sure, so he and all his friends can hate me,” she rolled her eyes, already hating the idea.

“My father loves you, he won’t say a word. You know he only yells at me and not at you.”

“But we won’t be staying more than 30 minutes?” She begged.

“Fine, not more than 30 minutes.”

Being a brat wasn’t exactly what she loved to do, but she felt like she had no other chances when Jeno was barely paying her attention.

It had turned out that his father wasn’t even there, not for more than 10 minutes, and it was just a setup to make Jeno meet with some other businessmen in a less professional space to ‘get close to each other,’ or whatever, she truly couldn’t care.

And she couldn’t even be too touchy with him because he just wouldn’t pay attention. Too busy listening to what some old men had to say.

“Bored?” Jaemin asked, he was holding the cue stick as he stood next to the billiard table.

“What does it look like?” She huffed, fixing the hem of her dress to push it down again. The dress Jeno picked was beautiful, of course, it was, he had impeccable taste for everything but especially when he wanted to dress her up. But it was too short to even make her have a great time.

“Wanna play?” The blonde haired asked, cocking his head to the side to point at the green table.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I don’t know how to play.”

“I’ll teach you, come on,” Jaemin said, calling her to the other side where the white ball was.

She looked around for a second, hoping Jeno noticed her absence at his side and looked for her, but nothing at all. So she had just one last thing to try.

“It’s all about the body movement,” Jaemin started to explain, his body behind him, and she could see that he was trying to don’t get too close but that was what she needed if she wanted to have a reaction.

“Like this?” She asked, inclining her back, her ass brushing ‘accidentally’ against his thigh.

“Uhm, yeah, just uhm,” he mumbled, hand touching her back to fix her posture and then adjusting her fingers on the stick. “Here, that’s great. Hit the ball.”

“I did it!” She screamed when five of the other balls fell down the holes. Turning around with her arms raised before she wrapped them around Jaemin’s neck.

“See, you aren’t bad at all.”

Jeno heard her squeal and turned around, eyebrows furrowing for a second before he shrugged it off. She was just having fun and he didn’t mind if Jaemin kept her occupied while he tried to cut the conversation off with these men.

But that got on her nerves more. So she kept playing, getting touchier with Jaemin, feeling even a bit guilty for how he was visibly turned on by everything. She would’ve explained if she passed by him another day.

“Want to dance?” She asked, not really giving him a chance to complain by dragging him in the middle of the small dance floor.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea?” He chuckled awkwardly, briefly looking back at Jeno.

“Is it not? What is the music for if not for dancing?” Her hips started moving to the rhythm, her hands trailing up and down her body while she encouraged him to dance with her eyes.

Jaemin wanted to complain but then gave in, and grabbed her hand and in a second they were dancing close to each other.

It had to be an eye-catching situation, right? There was nobody else around them, nobody else had brought their wives — guessing by the average age — there.

“Your girlfriend is putting on a show,” a man commented and Jeno’s head snapped in their direction.

“What the fuck…” he mumbled, fists clenching under the table.

“She loves dancing,” he commented, a forced fake smile forming on his face as he turned to them. Trying to bring the conversation to their deals again because he couldn’t drag her out of there right there at the moment. He needed to pretend they had to go home because… because… he would’ve come up with an excuse, not that it mattered. It was none of their business why they were leaving. Still, he couldn’t make a scene.

But he could only last five more minutes because his eyes kept landing on them. Jaemin was doing his best to hold back, Jeno could see it, but her, on the other hand…

“It was lovely to meet you all, I hope we can see each other again to seal some deals,” Jeno greeted briefly, not even waiting for an answer before he got up and reached for her.

“Hi, darling,” he sang with a fake sweet tone, grabbing her wrist. “Having fun you two?”

“So much fun,” she replied before Jaemin could talk, but Jeno didn’t need to listen to his answer, he knew it wasn’t his fault, though he might’ve had a talk with him on Monday morning for some looks and touches he saw.

“Sorry but the fun it’s over,” he whispered against her ear. “Let’s go.”

The ride back home was silent. She was waiting for Jeno to talk but he didn’t say anything and the only word that came out of his mouth when they got inside was, ‘bedroom.’

And she knew exactly what it meant. Jeno wanted her to wait for him naked, sitting at the edge of the bed.

Weird.

She expected him to push her against the wall as soon as they were shielded from the outer world, but he didn’t, and she wondered what he had in mind.

Thinking about how she behaved for the last past week it was probably a punishment summed up with other three, if she was lucky.

When the door opened and Jeno stepped inside her eyes followed him silently, feet tapping against the floor as she was growing impatient.

And Jeno was growing impatient too, but he wasn’t going to fall for her games this time. He knew what she wanted, a reaction, a jealous one that lead to the hard sex she loved so much. But he didn’t need a reaction, he had nothing to be jealous about because she was his. No matter how much she was going around to tease him. No matter how many days they spent apart. Jeno had her wrapped around his fingers and he had nothing to worry about.

So he reached the armchair at the corner of their bedroom, giving her his back as he unbuckled his belt, making it run in the loops and removing it with a slap that made her stomach twist. He could feel the way her leg was nervously twitching and how her breathing was getting short. So he turned around, giving her more. His fingers moved slowly to unbutton his shirt, and even if his eyes were still lowered on the pavemente, he knew she was staring with attention, surely hating she wasn’t the one taking those clothes off of him. That was always her favourite part, getting him naked, running her hand on his skin, feeling him close, showing how desperate she was to feel him.

But there he was, standing naked in the corner of their bedroom, the only thing that was still on his body, the expensive watch. He wasn’t going to keep it on, right? She thought, hoping for that because she wasn’t so sure she could take it. But that night Jeno was doing all the opposite she was thinking about.

“I don’t like brats,” he said, an edge in his voice, as he walked in front of her. “And you know it.” When he stopped in front of her, she squirmed in her place, feeling so small compared to him. “So why do you love getting on my nerves? Why do you act like that?”

She opened her mouth but he shut her with two fingers on her lips.

“No, don’t answer. I know why. You think you can make me jealous, you think that acting like that, you will get a reaction from me. But have you ever thought that your plans might go wrong?”

She shook her head, biting her lips nervously.

“I told you getting my cock was already on the line, babe,” he whispered, hands roaming on her body touching her breasts, slowly reaching down on her tummy, before he caressed her thighs. “So why blow up the only chance you had?”

Her eyes snapped into his. He couldn’t do that…

“No — no,” she mumbled, truly shocked about that.

“Lay on the bed,” he simply ordered and she followed without blinking an eye this time. “Funny how you listen when you don’t want to make it worse, isn’t it?” He joked before he opened the closet and she already knew what was coming.

When he moved on the bed, it was to block her wrists and ankles in place. He was quick at moving her how he wanted, the cuffs clicking shut around one wrist before he did the same with the other. And then followed her ankles, stopped in place and parted from each other by the same purple spreader bar that was holding her hands in place.

“So pretty for me,” he praised, shifting on the bed, and rubbing a hand on her thigh. “Don’t think I’m cruel by the way. I have a gift for you,” he said, before pulling out from behind his back a small vibrator.

“I want you,” she cried, hips — the only part of her body she could move — bucking up in complaint.

“Should’ve thought about it first,” he reminded her, moving the toy to her lips to make her suck it, wetting it before he pushed it into her already soaked pussy. “You’re so wet it slipped in so fucking easily. God, not even punishments can put some sense in your brain.”

She didn’t answer, only looked at him silently, as he grabbed his phone, surely opening the app to control the toy.

“I’ll turn it on and you can’t come.”

“I can’t come?”

“You heard that,” he replied with a stern tone, not giving space for objections. “My fingers and my cock are the only things you’ll come on tonight. Oh, wait, you’re not going to have them,” he pouted before laughing wickedly and walking back to the armchair.

“Are you lea — fuck,” she cried when he turned it on without a warning.

The vibrations started slowly, and the rhythm was consistent, but the toy was so pushed inside of her that it was enough to make her back arch at the pleasurable sensation. Maybe at this pace, she could’ve held it in and just relaxed. That was what she thought until her eyes laid on Jeno. He was staring at her, eyes filled with lust and she knew that look, he wasn’t going to let her go tonight without fucking, there was no way he was torturing himself too. But right now he was doing everything possible to drive her insane.

His fist was wrapped around his cock, moving up and down slowly. And she couldn’t describe it with words but the fact that he had nothing on but that watch made her stomach twitch and her toes curl.

“Want to touch it?” He asked before letting out a low laugh when she nodded eagerly. “Want to suck me again?”

“Want it in me,” she cried, mouth slacked open when he raised the vibrations, faster and stronger this time, so much that she could feel them everywhere in her lower body and her eyes fell shut again.

“I told you,” Jeno whispered. “You should’ve thought about it before.”

“But please,” she pleaded, voice broken by the pleasure.

“Bad girls don’t get what they want,” he replied, voice firm as he slowed the vibrations, making her body relax again. But he had no intention of being sweet that night, so after a few minutes, he raised them again.

“Should we try all the pulsating functions this toy offers?” He asked, walking closer to the bed but still not touching her. “Oh, what about this one?”

“No,” she whimpered when the pulse changed.

“You don’t like it because it’s intermittent? You always want the most intense things:”

“This — this is intense,” she replied, throwing her head back. She hated the small pauses in between every buzz but the vibrations that lasted for only a few seconds were so strong that almost brought her close to the edge before stopping. It was a constant edging.

But Jeno enjoyed watching her squirm, mouth open and back arched, and thighs shaking as she tried to stay tensed up to don’t give in to her needs.

“I’ll pick another one,” he said, standing right in front of her at the end of the bed, smirking when his eyes laid in between her spread legs, cum dripping everywhere, sticking to her ass and creating a wet spot on the bed. “And if you last for more than five minutes without coming… you’ll get my cock.”

“Happy?” He asked when she nodded like a puppy but her smile dropped as soon as he picked the new speed. The highest.

“Jeno, no,” she cried, wrists struggling against the restrainers as her hips bucked up. “I can’t.”

“At least try,” he only replied. “I set the time so we can’t go wrong, baby. And don’t try to lie to me, I know how your body reacts when you come.”

She only hummed, trying to close her legs but the bar kept her wide open. And she really tried to don’t come but not even after two minutes, the orgasm exploded, body squirming against the bedsheets and loud moans coming out of her mouth followed by curses as the vibrations didn’t stop.

“You just can’t listen,” Jeno mocked, his hand slapping the side of her thigh, making her open her eyes. “Don’t look at me with those wide eyes. I’m starting to think you don’t want me tonight.”

“I do, I — I do, please, turn it off. It’s too much.”

“Is it?” He cooed, changing the rhythm again but it wasn’t any better. “Planned of coming home and fucking you nice all night just like you’ve been dreaming about all week, but no, you had to prolong your suffering. You had to make me teach you a lesson, remind you how to listen.”

“Please,” she still pleaded, knowing it was useless.

“No, baby, keep it in and don’t come. I should’ve trained you before you turned into a brainless brat.”

“Don’t — don’t you want me?” She tried to win him in another way but the only answer she got was a mocking laugh that made her whine even more.

“You have two minutes left,” he warned. “I’m giving you one last chance, baby. If you fuck it up, you won’t get anything tonight.”

She hummed, a groan slipped past her lips when he picked the same speed as before but she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on it. Even trying to think about things that turned her off, anything to don’t lose the last chance she got. Jeno was pissed and she wasn’t so sure that his want to have her was bigger than the want of teaching her a lesson, at this point.

And somehow she succeeded. When the vibrations came to a stop she started breathing normally again, her body going limp against the bed and shoulders letting go of the tension.

“So you can listen when you want to,” Jeno commented while his hands caressed her body before he reached between her legs and pulled the toy out, leaving it on the bedside table.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said when he moved to free her from the spreaders. “You still don’t deserve praises. Make it up and then maybe I’ll praise you.”

“Come here,” he ordered, patting the edge of the bed.

“I — wait,” she said, feeling too tired to stand up.

Jeno rolled his eyes, walking around the bed again to hoist her up and place her where he wanted her. “Can’t even walk now, imagine once I’m done with you.” He sat on the bed and sat her on his thighs, her eyes widened when she realized they were sitting right in front of the mirror.

“What, baby? Surprised? I want you to see how desperate you are.”

“I want you.”

“I know you do,” he said, spreading her legs, planting her feet on his thighs, exposing her once again.

“What —”

“Stop asking,” he replied, growling before he kissed her hard. “Do you need to know what I’ll do to you? Acting as if you wouldn’t enjoy anything I give to you?”

She shook her head.

“What I thought,” he snickered before his fingers pushed into her pussy. “You’re already a mess.”

Her head rolled back against his shoulder but Jeno’s fingers immediately wrapped in her hair to force her head up. “Eyes on the mirror, baby. You love my fingers so much you will watch when they fuck you how you want to.”

“But I want you.”

“Stop begging before I change my mind again,” he reminded her, fingers thrusting faster inside of her. The sight was filthy but she couldn’t take her eyes off of there. It was too hot, the way they curled deep into her, pressing exactly where she wanted him, pumping the cum out of her that rolled in drops on his slender, bony hands. The rings hitting against her skin and adoring his fingers just making everything hotter as he thrust them inside at a firm speed. She couldn’t even be embarrassed at the dirty squelching sounds.

But when Jeno pushed her legs closer to her body she felt a different sensation build up. His fingers were angled even more perfectly now, hitting her sweet spot with precision, and increasingly going faster. And before she could even warn him, it got too much. The tension exploded in an orgasm that shook her body from head to toe, tight walls pulsing around his fingers before her squirt started spurting out of her, making her gasp and squirm, trying to make it stop but Jeno shushed her.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised. “That’s what I wanted from you. Keep doing it.”

At his words, she relaxed more, shame still eating her alive as her cum hit the mirror and stained it, slowly rolling down to meet the floor.

“Fuck,” she cried when the sensation slowed down. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for this?” He chuckled. “You should be sorry for the way you behave, instead.”

Right, he was still pissed.

“I’m sorry, Jeno,” she apologized. “I promise, I won’t act like a brat anymore. I’ll be good.”

He only hummed before kissing her briefly. “Get on the bed,” he ordered and her legs were swift — well, for what she could since she could barely feel them — at pushing her body on the bed. “Not like this,” he said, clicking his tongue, hands signaling her to turn around. “Face to the mirror, on your hands and knees. Now.”

In a second she was how he wanted her, ass arched up, inviting him to give her what she craved for so much.

“Don’t tease me,” she cried when he started rubbing the tip of his cock against her entrance and her clit before slapping it on her pussy.

“You talk about not teasing?” He hummed, pushing the fat tip in, stretching her slit but not pushing further. “You know why you’re lucky? Because I want you too much to be mad at you,” he groaned, pushing in completely, yanking her body forward with a single strong stroke. “You drive me insane but I can’t resist you.”

She smirked, as her eyes rolled in the back of her head at the sensation of being filled by him again.

“Don’t fucking smirk,” he growled, wrapping a hand around her neck to lift her up, her back pushed against his chest as his hips slammed against her ass. “Here, keep my fingers in your mouth since you — fuck — since you love them so much.”

“Fuck,” she hummed around his digits, sucking them.

“Look at you,” he moaned, meeting her eyes through the reflecting surface. “I didn’t even start with you and here you are.”

Her eyes rolled back, nails digging into his skin as she held herself up.

“Happy now?” He asked, pulling his fingers out and pushing her down against the mattress. “That was what you — fuck — wanted. Does my cock feel good, baby?”

“Yeah, so — so good,” she mumbled, pushing her face into the sheets before Jeno yanked her up by the air.

“I said, don’t you take your eyes off of me,” he groaned against her ear, pressing her flat against the mattress with his body, only keeping her head up. “I want you to keep in mind that none else can see you like this. Nobody can turn you into the mess you want to be turned into. Not even your fingers or — fuck — your toys.”

“Yes, only you,” she blabbered, forcing her eyes to stay open as the pleasure started to overwhelm her again. It had only been a week but it felt like ages without feeling him. His thick cock was stretching her so good, veins rubbing against her wet walls and balls slapping against her clit, making her head get dizzy.

“You have no — fuck — no idea for how long I waited to have you,” he moaned, standing up again, holding her head with a firm hold, and pounding harder into her. “Could’ve — fuck — had you right when we came back home but no — fuck — you just don’t know when to stop.”

“Bet you fucked yourself all week — fuck — thinking it was my cock, didn’t you? And what did I have? Nothing.”

Her eyes fell shut again but the tug at her hair made her open them again.

“You look so pretty when I fuck you like this,” he groaned before he grabbed her wrists and locked them behind her back. “Can you keep your head up without your hands, baby?” He teased, watching as she tried her best to still follow his orders, eyes looking into the mirror with a desperate pleading look and he knew exactly what it meant. She was close but had no intention to make it finish so soon.

“Ca-can,” she whimpered, biting her lips.

“No, babe,” he said, holding her wrist with just one hand, slamming her body against his with force, arms flexing at the tension he was putting on his muscles. “I want to hear you moan. I want to hear your whimpers and moans and — fuck — and curses. Just for me. Come on, louder.”

So she did, letting go, not trying to keep quiet.

“That’s it, pretty. Love hearing you be so eager for me. So eager for my cock.”

“Jeno, harder," she pleaded, the beg followed by more desperate sounds.

“Harder than this?" He asked with a smirk on his face. “Can you take it?”

“Yes, yes, please. I — I can take it all.”

“I hope you do,” he groaned, letting go of her wrist to lean against her, his fingers pushing into her mouth again. “Suck them, baby," he ordered, voice hitting her ear while his lust gazed eyes stared right into her soul through the mirror. “Good girl. Suck them just like that. You love them so much don’t you? It doesn’t matter where they are buried deep into you,” he mocked, pushing them against her tongue, making her gag, “as long as they are inside you. Such a selfish little girl.”

“I’m close,” she whimpered around them, nails digging into the sheets as she felt another orgasm build up in her body. He was thrusting into her so fucking hard, releasing all the pent-up tension of the week, hips snapping against her ass creating lewd sounds, while his other hand was holding tight around her waist, surely leaving marks on her skin.

“Come here,” he moaned, lifting her up. “Since you love my hands so much — fuck — feel them, feel them around your neck.”

She let out muffled moans when his hand wrapped around her neck holding her up while the other moved forward to play with her clit. Head rolling back at the sensation of his thumb caressing the side of her neck, eyes almost crossing when the fingers on her clit started moving faster.

“Yeah, you like that,” Jeno groaned, watching with a smirk as she smiled with a fucked out expression, completely lost in pleasure, just how he wanted. “The prettiest necklace around your pretty neck, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, fuck,” she whimpered.

“Gonna fill you up,” he warned her, head falling against her shoulder as he got closer and closer to his climax. “Do you want it, baby?”

“Yes, yes, please, Jeno,” she moaned, body twitching as she felt him fill her up, their orgasms washing over at the same time. But he didn’t stop.

“Gonna give you another one,” he groaned, freeing her neck, pressing her body against the mattress again, shielding it with his. His thrusts hitting deeper and harder. “Gonna give you all I kept for you — fuck — for a week.”

“Mmph,” she whimpered, squeezing her eyes close, chest panting hardly.

“Will you take it? Will you be a good girl and take another load?” He asked, voice coming out more hoarse and low as he pushed himself over the limit.

“Yes, want it all. Please, fill me — fuck — fill me full of you.”

“That’s it,” he whispered, biting her earlobe before he stuck his face in the crook of his neck and kissed her on her sweet spot, eyebrows knitted from the pleasure. “Take it all, baby. Come with me — fuck — one last time. Fuck,” he moaned lowly, hips rolling against with a last strong push.

She moaned loudly when they came at the same time, feeling his cum fill her again and squeeze out with every lazy pump he gave her as he rode both of their orgasms, dripping down between her legs and staining the sheets.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, chest panting hard against her back, lips kissing her face while his thumb rubbed circles on her hip. “You good?”

She hummed, eyes blinking slowly as she came down from the high.

“You’ve been such a good girl,” Jeno praised, pulling out of her slowly, getting lost in the way his cum was dripping out her swollen pussy. Two fingers running on her slit to push it back inside, plugging them deep, feeling her insides twitch in overstimulation before he pulled them out, letting his seed drip down on her thighs.

“Open up,” he ordered, waiting for her to part her lips and lick his fingers clean. “Good girl,” he whispered before kissing her again. “Took so many orgasms, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, kissing the tip of her nose and then leaving a peck on her lips that made her giggle.

“So, did you learn to don’t act like a brat anymore?” He asked, caressing her back gently.

She chuckled. “If you fuck me like this how can I don’t be a brat?”

Jeno rolled his eyes before laughing. “You truly will never learn.”

“Oh, please, as if you mind.”

“I told you, I love you too much to be mad about it.”

She smiled proudly before she reached for his hands and started caressing them.

Jeno smirked as he watched as she trailed the paths of his veins and played with the rings and the watch. “So this thing for my hands is serious?”

“Can you blame me? Look at how pretty they are. They are so delicate and yet so strong, and they’re soft.”

“Mhh, yeah? Think I should use them more often?”

“You definitely should,” she winked. “On me, of course,” she added with a ‘menacing’ furrow on her face.

Jeno laughed. “Of course, baby. Only you,” he replied, leaving another kiss on her lips. “And I think I should start using them right now.”

“Another round?” She asked in surprise.

“No, honey,” he reassured her, caressing her cheek. “To clean you up in the shower. Do you like the idea?” He asked, but he had already lifted her up and was carrying her to their big bathroom. “If you want, I’ll even wash your hair.”

“So you can massage my scalp?”

“Mhh, mhh, I think you deserve it. So? Are you in?”

“I love it.”

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think about it if you want to ♡

#nct fanfiction #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #jeno scenarios #jeno oneshot #jeno fluff #lee jeno fluff #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream scenarios #nct dream jeno

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flordeamatista · 9 months

Text

𝗣𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗙𝗶𝗿𝗲

pairing: bodyguard!ari levinson x mafia!princess reader

concept: You intrigue me, moving on top of me, touching my lips here and there, and I am enveloped by more desire.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: bratty reader, desire, lust, p— in-v, edging, dirty talk, degradation, rough sex, unprotected sex, praise, mature themes, small gun violence at the night club, teasing, nickname ──(Princess, Sweetheart)

a/n: Thank you @sunshinebuckybarnes and @lookiamtrying for always being the finest menaces, and I know this is a few months late, but here it is.

lovely beta: Thank you so much @writing-for-marvel for listening to all the ideas I had for this story and for always lifting my spirits. @lunarbuck Thanks for always telling me it wasn't a silly dream and for always encouraging me. lots of love for you both.

the cute gif and moodboard/line divider made by me

masterlist

The sky burns higher and higher, love, is fire too scary for you

Stepping into the house, the sound of your designer red heels striking the marble floor blasts through the foyer like a raging fire storm. Your unyielding determination and boiling-hot rage shines through every step you take.

His eyes are dominated by a blue hue that seems to numb your energy.

He glares at you as if you are nothing more than air; as if he didn't intend to acknowledge your presence.

You want to reach out and rip that icy gaze off his face. No one ever ignores you in such a manner in this state, or anywhere else for that matter.

“You’re destroying my life!" Your voice reverberates through the walls as you throw anything within reach to express your seething hatred for him.

Ari can’t help but take a deep breath, feeling your shouts stab at his head like spears.

"Why don't you just leave me alone?" You snarl through gritted teeth as you tear off your heels, aiming them at his face. “You know, I could hire someone to get rid of you."

For the one single night when all you want is freedom, he’s here trying to drag you out of the car. You tried escaping by hiding in the backseat of your friend's car, but you never got to the gate. You didn't have time to enjoy your freedom before Ari Levinson dragged you away.

Your humiliation reached its peak when he laughed, mocking your position as a mafia princess who has to beg her own bodyguard to stay away from her. The laughter sent ripples of anger and shame shooting through your veins.

"Do it, Princess." He smirks mockingly. “I would love to see them try."

Your nails dig deep into the flesh of your palms as you clench them tightly together. You scream at the top of your lungs as you ascend the stairs to your room.

Ari can still hear faint echoes of your cries drifting through the hallway until they slowly die away completely. His thoughts drift as he picks up your heels and walks up to your room, murmuring to himself, "This spoiled princess wants to be a brat."

Having no escape, no freedom, I will shake the world to get what I want.

There is something magical about dancing as rainbow-like colors illuminate the room around you, every move creating a small firework. As the music plays, the room fills with a sweet smell of sweat and perfume that only enhances the experience. Your arms move through the air and your feet bounce in step with the beat. Closing your eyes, you let go of everything else as you reach for the sky with wide eyes and a contagious smile in your heart.

The music plays, and you laugh to yourself, knowing he will probably kill you because of what you did.

“There she is!” You turn to see your best friend, Irnia. Her eyes twinkle with mischief as she hands you a glass filled to the brim with sparkling golden liquid. "How did you escape that beefy dreamy bodyguard of yours?"

A smirk appears on your lips as you sip the drink. “He’s wet and trapped in a bathroom with a broken door knob."

Through careful planning, you managed to lock Ari in the bathroom and break his doorknob. You collected your phone, along with other items he had hidden to keep track of you, and escaped. Your only desire was to hear him grunt in anger when he realized you had outsmarted him. But his blue eyes had lost their intensity long ago; they could never keep up with his work.

The music pulses through the club's veins, coursing through the air and pushing people to dance and laugh. With joy, drinks are thrown back and mouths are wide open.

There is a flicker before the lights go out, plunging everyone into darkness. Screams of surprise echo off the walls. As panic grips the crowd, hands grasp each other desperately in search of an escape.

You suddenly realize, as you feel yourself being pushed by the crowd, that your exit plan is stuck at home because you had locked him in.

Chaos in your mind leaves you speechless, and words cannot describe how fear engulfs you and flushes out the light.

Your finger trembles at the trigger of your gun, and your heart races in anticipation. A cold bead of sweat rolls down your forehead and mingles with the night's warmth, washing away what remains of your sense of security.

You take a deep breath and lunge forward, gripping your gun tightly as if it’s a lifeline.

A frantic noise outside causes a chill to grip your body, so you raise your weapon and cry as tears slowly trail down your cheeks. A burning white light weighs down on you, making breathing even more difficult.

The burning white lights mock you with what they can't provide.

Safety.

If you close your eyes, all you can see are a pair of familiar ocean blue eyes.

Ari had insisted you carry a handgun strapped to your leg and taught you how to use it, although he kept a distance from you. “It’s either your life or theirs. These men will not hesitate to shoot. Are you prepared?" You suddenly feel as if he was protecting you with his advice.

Your gun is aimed at the door, ready to face whatever danger may arrive. It feels heavy, but you know it is worth the effort for the sake of your life.

You feel an icy chill run down your spine as the door of the club's restroom slams against the wall. Across the concrete floor, heavy boots stumble, their footsteps echoing like thunder in the darkness. One by one, the stall doors open, closing in around you and filling the room with the smell of sweat and fear.

You hear Ari's voice and you know you are safe, but still too far away from him. Gun in hand, you hold it tightly. It's just a matter of holding on so he can find you. An agonizing scream follows Ari's grunt and the thud of his fist hitting flesh.

Your heart races as terror washes over you and your throat dried up. You muster every ounce of courage to cry out for help, “Ari, I am in here, please! I'm sorr-y.”

I only know where I am, and anger is outside.

Rage coursed through Ari's veins when he heard you had disappeared on his watch. In his quest to protect you, he called every contact to trace your movements. In the club, he saw your ex-boyfriend marching toward you and felt a flood of desperation wash over him.

As instinct kicked in, he punched anyone who stood in his way with animalistic skill and ferocity. A body flew across the room with each blow, leaving the walls trembling. He heard your voice calling for help at that moment.

Ari surges through the crowd and slams the door of the stall. You stand there, trembling in fear, your gun shaking.

He immediately runs towards you, ready to take on any foe if need be. The gun falls from your hand and into his arms.

When Ari touches you, your knees weaken, and you feel at peace just seeing his crystal blue eyes. You embrace one another and time seems to stop as relief washes over you both. Tears of guilt roll down your cheeks as you apologize profusely for everything that happened.

While the stormy sky pours, I search for your caring touch.

A slow pounding of your heart fills the air as you tiptoe into Ari's bedroom. A gentle thunderstorm rages outside the window; the room smells like rain; the steady rhythm of the drops is loud in the background, providing some comfort.

When your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can see Ari's figure in bed. His long, dark beard frames his lips, adding a relaxed aura to his facial features. Moonlight and lightning flashes create an ethereal effect on Ari's face and body; his sculpted muscles move beneath the blankets, with a few chest hairs peeking out.

The protective wrap around his arm from when he saved you at the club catches your eye. He never spoke a word about it or blamed you. The contours of his body ache beneath your fingertips, but you remember what happened the last time you tried to get so close to him.

A lump forms in your throat as you slowly lay the blanket across Ari's chest. It had been a long night for both of you, and this man in front of you saved you without a hesitation.

You reluctantly turn around, ready to leave, when suddenly Ari grabs your wrist and pulls you onto the bed on top of him. His muscular arms wrap around your waist and hold you against his solid chest.

Your body relaxes in his embrace as you breathe in Ari's breath.

The sound of his voice rumbles as he searches for your eyes. "Where do you think you're going, Princess?" he asks in a husky voice as his fingers caress your skin.

There is a throbbing sensation in the pit of your stomach, as well as warmth spreading throughout your body. You are feeling the effects of his presence. Your heart races with tension and nervousness as you try to pull away, but there is an undeniable magnetism between you that won't let go.

You don’t want to show it, but a part of you wants to stay with Ari forever.

Looking for an excuse, you murmur "Away from you. Let me go." But it is too late, he knows you’re concerned for his health and doesn’t let go.

A smirk appears on Ari's face and he responds calmly. "Oh no, now you want to tell me what to do in my room? You were here for a reason, so why do you want to leave now? When I opened my eyes I saw you on top of me. Princess, I can touch whatever is in my room - care to tell me what brought you here?"

You reply firmly, your voice low. "Ari, you're injured and out of it. I just wanted to see if you needed anything. Now let me go, you idiot."

His smirk slowly fades away and is replaced by sadness. "Princess, there's only one thing that can heal my wounds.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Kisses from that bratty mouth of yours."

In one swift movement, he flips you over and hoveres his body above yours, one hand pinning your wrists above your head and the other brushing and grabbing your throat.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he replies, "Kisses, Princess." With your face inches from his, you open your mouth to protest, only to have him shush you with a stern look in his eyes.

A mischievous gleam adorned his eyes as he whispered in your ear, "Let me taste those lips and a few other things I've been thinking about for months." He places his lips on your neck.

A part of him has always intrigued you which was why you couldn't leave him. You whisper softly, "Ari, you're insane," inviting him to stop you, but that is the last thing you want and he knows it.

Ari looks at you with lustful eyes. Teasingly, he asks, "Are you sure?". He glances downward to where your fingers are digging into his shoulders and groans. "The way you're touching me makes me think that you're not."

You bite your lower lip and throw caution to the wind as you push his shoulders, securing yourself back on top of Ari again. Your legs straddle his waist; you don’t want him to let go.

In a frenzy, you whimper yes, and his hands begin to lace their way up your body, unbuttoning your night top. Soon, you feel the cold air on your breasts and his thumbs touch your nipples. "You feel this, sweetheart?” Ari’s voice is a low whisper. “I’m going to make you mine."

For months, you've wanted to see him like this, to feel him. Now, after tonight, you’ll never see him again. Because of what happened at the club your parents deemed Ari unsuitable to be your bodyguard. It is your fault, and they said they would talk to him in the morning, but you had to see him now.

"I'm going to scream and you–," you whisper, trying to tease him.

The two of you lock eyes, and your lips part slightly. As his hands reach out for your face, he pulls you in for a kiss. Taking a deep breath, he breathes you in. When you feel his breath on your skin, it makes you shiver with need.

You feel like an invisible fire has been burning your bodies since the moment you touched him, a fire which has been burning for months without a way to slake its thirst. Moans and sighs of desire fill each other's mouths as your mouths collide desperately. When he touches your breasts, your heart skips a beat; every spot craving to be touched more. Ari tears your clothes off your body and you feel the sensation of him bare against yours.

“The screams will be my name and you moaning for me to keep fucking you, sweetheart.” He adjusts himself between your legs.

Euphoria erupting in your body and a pounding heart.

“You’re already wet for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?"

He can also see how close you are to surrendering completely to his dominance. The teasing look in his eyes gets under your skin, so you lift your legs up and arch your back towards him.

You feel his cock against you again, teasing your needy pussy for him.

Your lips whisper, "Please, Ari." As he watches you squirm, Ari raises his hips as if he is considering whether or not to enter you. A coy smile spreads across his face as he teases you around the edges of your pussy. He seems to enjoy it too much.

The more he teases you, the more irritated you become. You bite your lip and moan, the excitement of danger heightening your lust. You watch as he looks into your eyes to see how much you crave him. “Fuck you, Ari," you beg, despite yourself.

You feel as if your bones have melted under pressure, and your legs shake with pleasure and anticipation.

"My princess really wants it." The words spin in your mind intoxicatingly and put a clenching pressure on your core.

Just outside of where you need him most, his cock strokes up against you. Is this teasing? It's driving you crazy, but with pleasure instead of anger. Your skin tingles just thinking about him, as if his touch has already molded itself over your soul.

You squint, begging him to stop teasing you without words. Before now, you have never asked anyone for anything.

His hard thick length felt foreign and hot as it slowly eases its way into your entrance. With an animalistic growl, Ari thrusts inside all the way in one motion, sending thrills through your body. His slow, precise movements inside you have you clutching desperately onto his neck, digging your fingertips into his skin.

You intrigue me, moving on top of me, touching my lips here and there, and I am enveloped by more desire.

Each time he rotates his hips, a different nerve ending is stimulated, causing you to moan uncontrollably. He pulls back slightly before pushing into you again. Dropping down on his forearms, he leans over you with his lips never leaving yours.

“You can’t control yourself,” he murmurs into your mouth. “I think I can already feel you coming.”

He smirks and pulls out almost completely before slamming back inside of you. Every muscle in your body tenses up in anticipation as he teases you with all the sensations he has been denying you for months. “Do you want more? Are you ready to come for me?”

Ari slams hard into you and pulls away, taunting you. In an effort to keep him inside, you grasp onto him desperately. The more you plead, the more he retreats, only to push harder the next time.

"My naughty princess," he whispers, "you love this so much." Take a deep breath! His rhythm is slow and shallow, fucking his cock in and out of you before speeding up. With each impact, he slides an arm under your waist and lifts you up slightly as he drives his body faster and deeper than ever before. "Look at you," Ari growls deeply as he pumps into you ferociously. The only thing stopping him is your legs holding him tightly around the hips while smacking your ass as the bed posts shake. The sight of you panting through gritted teeth thrills Ari.

"Let go," Ari whispers hoarsely as he seals a kiss of desperate longing on your lips, giving the command that calms all drives your body.

A fire of passion ignites beneath the moon's gaze, as he steals kisses from my body in a husk of passion.

The air in the room is hot and heavy, and Ari's sweat-slicked forehead glows in the low light. His lips find your forehead first in a gentle kiss that feels like a long-awaited release. As you lift his hair from his face, he grabs your hand and kisses it. His hand slips lightly through your hand before lingering on your face. “Did I still destroy your life, but now with my cock?” he asks with a hint of a smirk.

You couldn’t help but giggle, and you playfully slapped his shoulder in response. “Shut up,” you whisper back. “I still want to kill you.”

Ari chucks as he kisses your protest away and flips you so that you straddle him. He cups his hands around your waist, gently guiding you onto him until you both gasp at the sensation of being connected as one. “How about you ride me to death, Princess?” he murmurs.

It was black outside and thunder rumbled, but inside the room was hot, red, and heavy with lust.

When a thunderclap resounds this night, your hands grip his chest tightly. Whatever may happen now, he will always be by your side to protect your heart.

A hungry, filthy eye watches it as lustful desire ignites around every corner

601 notes · View notes

lowkeychenle · 7 months

Text

Within the Piano Keys [ZCL] (M)

Description: For as long as you could remember, Chenle has been your neighbor and childhood best friend. That is, until one day he disappears without a word...or so you thought, since your mother hid all the letters he sent you.

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut triple threat ygm

Content Warnings: This fic contains letters from Chenle (purely fictional duh) but does mention things about the graduation system/the Dreamies going through a rough time just FYI! Just a brief mention. And also, smut. this has smut, but it's soft and cute smut because why not.......so literally that's it I think? Who I am these are some light content warnings

Word Count: 7,707

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (feat (briefly) Jeno & Jaemin, mentions of Mark and Jisung)

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Author's Note: This gif actually kills me someone send 911 emergency services sos zhong chenle is killing me AGAIN

The ghost of the past will always find you.

There’s no outrunning destiny. Who and what you were made to be. And you sure as hell love to try—pushing yourself to change as much as possible to keep Fate on her toes. Sometimes, it’s inevitable. Sometimes, people are placed on the Earth with a specific purpose, and you were sure yours was him. At a mere seven years old, your life changed forever—in a way you never saw coming. When you think about it, you don’t think Fate saw it, either.

Because you met him then.

You remember the day in vivid detail. The soft, sweet melody of the piano drifting through the house, up the stairs, and beneath your bedroom door where you stand, looking for your butterfly hair clip you adore oh so much.

When your frustration reaches its peak and you sit down with a huff on the edge of your bed, you hear it. Your heart seems to beat along with the music, every key pressed making you wonder just who is playing downstairs.

It’s from Phantom of the Opera, a song titled “All I Ask of You.” The melody is full, transcending your body into peace the moment you realize what it is.

After taking a deep breath, you hesitantly make your way down the winding, spiral staircase, fingers tracing along the railings as if they’re too delicate to actually hold on to. Your steps echo downward, but as the young boy comes into view, you stop.

Not even your noisy intrusion breaks him from his music-induced trance. His entire body moves along with the sound, his eyes closed as he presses each note with perfection. His black hair is a bit longer than it probably should be, with a middle part to expose his forehead. His defined brows are furrowed, and even at his age, you’ve never seen someone look wiser than this boy does right at this moment.

You feel the song in your bones, deep within your soul in such an existential way, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever feel anything like it again. A silly, juvenile thought. You don’t know it right now, but you’d feel like that every time you were around him.

As the song comes to a close, he holds out the last note, inhaling deeply as if he hasn’t been breathing the entire time.

His eyes flutter open, warm brown irises immediately meeting yours. You hadn’t expected such depth, but you’d learn eventually never to expect anything with him—in the end, you would only build yourself up to fall…over and over and over again.

Here you stand, locked in a metaphorical embrace with a kid who can’t be any older than you, yet he seems…different. Like he’s seen enough in his lifetime to age him beyond physicality.

That was the day you started to believe in fate. The day he left was when you stopped.

Hours turned into weeks, and before you know it, the boy next door became your friend. Most times, you’d sit on the bench while he plays piano and watch incredulously. His musical talent always astounds you—he can sing, play instruments, write songs and compose them.

Sometimes, he’d ask you to sing the songs he played, and even though you felt nowhere near as talented as him, you did what he wanted. He’d join in with you occasionally, your voices blending together seemingly effortlessly.

Those weeks turned into years—two kids learning more and more about each other. He’d become more than a friend. You were twelve years old when you realized the connection you had with Chenle. When everything pieced together, and you understood that some hearts, some souls, are much older than you could ever fathom. Your heart, you were sure, stretched beyond your years, and your soul was kindred with Chenle’s in a way that could only mean you’d known each other in a past life. Slowly, slowly, slowly…he was everything, all at once.

“You’ve almost got it,” he whispered to you, adjusting your ring finger on the keys. “Just gotta move over a little bit more.”

You pouted. “My hands aren’t big enough, Lele.”

“Stop that.” He chuckled, shaking his head and nudging your shoulder. “That mindset is gonna keep you from learning.”

“Well, if my mindset doesn’t do it, the arthritis at a young age will,” you snipped.

His eyes sparkled with humor, crinkling at the edges as his smile widened. “You’ll get it eventually. Keep trying.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll tell you that you suck and you should never play again.”

You snorted. “Promise?”

He held up his pinky. “I’d never lie to you.”

You looped yours with his.

“You’ll get it.”

Chenle never gave up on you. He kept pushing you to be the best you could be, and you gladly followed his direction. You never quite got as good as he was with the piano, but you’d gotten decent at least. The two of you would hang out every day, spending every waking, free moment together until your mom told him it was time to go home.

You’d never thought about love and what it meant. For you, loving Chenle was as natural as breathing, and as time went on, it only got easier.

You turned fourteen before Chenle. If you had known this was the beginning of your last year with him, you would’ve appreciated it more. You would’ve told him all of the things lingering on your mind—how you loved him, so purely and genuinely.

Just days before your life blew up in your face, you almost told him.

He sat next to you on your bed, arm wrapped around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. The soft golden light of the lamp illuminated him gently, and the movie playing in the background edges you closer and closer to sleep.

“Do you ever think about…life?” he asked.

“Hm?” You scrunched your nose, your half-asleep state not registering what he meant.

“Like…what your plans are. What you want to do and who you want to be with.” His thumb brushed your skin soothingly. “We have to figure it out soon, don’t we? We’re almost adults.”

“You’re not tired?” You sat up and rubbed your forehead.

“Nope.”

“Well.” You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. “The only thing I’m certain about when it comes to the future is that you’ll be there. So, it doesn’t matter what else happens.”

He smiled softly, the slightest shade of red tinting his cheeks. “Even if the world ended?”

“Even if the world ended.” You confirmed.

A few months later, the world did end. At least, yours did.

He was gone.

His mom left shortly after him, but she told you what he was doing—how he was going to pursue his music career in South Korea. He was going to be an idol, and he was leaving you behind to do it.

Your world ended, but his got to go on without you.

At twenty-one years old, you’re still not sure where you went wrong. Chenle left, but his memory plagues the very walls you live within. You keep up with him, with his group and all of the things they’re doing. Even though you’re not with him, you watch him grow and grow into a more confident version of the young boy you knew.

Seven years without him should have been impossible, yet here you are: alive, well, and watching any and all Chenle related content. You haven’t heard from him, not once. Assumingly, he’s incredibly busy. Even then, you wonder occasionally if you ever cross his mind, if he ever thinks of the love he left behind.

Ever since, you’ve been sensitive over the summer months. A part of you is missing, and until you see him again, you’re unsure if you’ll ever find it. Has he changed? Is he still the boy you loved?

On days where thoughts of him overwhelms you, you like to walk the trail behind your house. It takes you through a wooded area, and the other end brings you to the end of your street. On your walk back, you see an unfamiliar car outside of Chenle’s family’s home. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you stand there to watch.

The door slides open, and you hear an unfamiliar laugh. Frowning, you cross your arms over your chest. Who the hell would be at Chenle’s house?

When the first person gets out of the car, your heart stops in your chest. You’re about eighty percent sure that’s Lee Jeno, light hair reflecting the bright sunlight above. If that’s Jeno, then—

You feel a sudden urge to run into your house, slam the door, and lock it behind you. Several other people are in that car, and if they’re here…one of them is Chenle. Your Chenle, who isn’t really yours. Not anymore.

Jaemin gets out next. His roots are dark, nearly overshadowing the pink hue on top of his head. He swats at someone behind him, laughing, and as that person comes into view, your heart stops. It shreds itself to pieces.

Jeno notices you first, a slight frown gracing his face before Chenle’s gaze follows his line of sight. When he sees you, you instantly see the recognition on his face.

Seven years is a long time. Hell, even though you’ve seen all of Dream’s content, you’re still shocked to see how different he looks. His face is more defined. He’s grown a bit taller, too.

He sees you. He’s looking at you for the first time in years, and all you want to do is forget all this time of no contact, all the ways the two of you hadn’t reached out to each other. A lump forms in your throat, and before you do something stupid, you let out a shaky breath, turn away from him, and make your way into your house.

You shut the door behind you, your back thudding against it. Glancing over to your right, the grand piano—old and loved—is blurred by your tears, and for the briefest of moments, you swear you see your younger self sitting there, endlessly playing the songs Chenle taught you before he left.

A knock sounds, and each one echoes throughout your house, feeling like a hole-puncher on your heart. You’re barely able to breathe as you prepare yourself to be face-to-face with Chenle for the first time in almost a decade—for the first time since he up and disappeared on you without a word.

“(Y/N)?” His voice. So familiar but so distant, all the same as it was.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

You brace yourself against the solid wood of the piano, doing your best to calm yourself. The last thing you need is to make a fool of yourself in front of him.

A hesitant creak fills your ears, and the tap of his shoes on the hardwood flooring has your eyes clenching shut.

“Why’d you run off like that?” he asks, voice so soft that it’s barely audible.

“I didn’t.”

“You still sound the same,” he says it quietly, as if he’s the only one meant to hear it. He raises his voice so you can hear him. “It’s been a long time.”

You scoff, whipping around to face him. “It’s been a long time? That’s all you have to say to me?” Anger bubbles in your gut, quickly replacing the hurt lingering.

You have to stop yourself from admiring him at a time like this. His oversized T-shirt somehow compliments him in the best ways, his hair is a tinted shade of purple, and when his fingers run through it, you have to look away. Sure, you should’ve expected to see him again at some point, but you never imagined you’d feel the same. It’s a bit different now that you’re older. You’re able to see him in a different light.

His eyes widen and he recoils. “I…I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say. It’s not like there’s a textbook on how to do this.”

“What are you doing here? Why now?” You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to avoid his eyes.

“We’re here on a schedule.” He slides his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I told them about you, in case you were wondering.”

“Oh, right.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I suppose that makes it all okay, right? You tell your friends I exist and that’s supposed to change how you up and left me without a word?”

He frowns. “Without a word?”

“Yeah, Chenle. Without a single fucking word.”

“That’s not true.” His tone sharpens to match yours. “I wrote to you. A lot. And if you didn’t want to read them, that’s on you. That doesn’t mean I left without a word. There were a lot of words, actually.”

“Why didn’t I get them?” Your voice drops into a whisper, moving one of your hands to touch your forehead.

“I…I don’t know. I didn’t know your address so I sent them to my mom, and she told me every time she gave one to your mom—”

A jolt of electricity rages up your spine, and you immediately turn away from him and run up the staircase. Your mother’s out of town for the week. If she’s been hiding letters from you, they’d be in her room somewhere—and you’d tear that place apart if it meant you had all those words.

“Where are you—hey!”

You’re already in your mom’s closet when Chenle follows you in.

“You shouldn’t be in here—”

“Says you,” you interrupt him, mindlessly shuffling through anything that looks like it could hold letters. “How many?”

“What?”

“How many did you send, Chenle?”

“Um.” He pauses, shifting on his feet. “I don’t know. A few? I stopped after a while because I didn’t hear anything. Figured you didn’t want anything else.”

“My God,” you mutter, blinking rapidly to fight off the tears. “And you swear your mom gave them to mine?”

“I—yeah, she didn’t have a reason not to.”

“And my mom had a reason not to give them to—shit. When did you send the first one?”

“(Y/N), it was seven years ago.”

“Was it right when you left or afterward?” You haphazardly dig through the closet, searching high and low.

“I left it here. I told my mom about it after a week or so. What the hell is going on?” Chenle runs his fingers through his hair again, gulping. “We really shouldn’t be in here.”

Your heart sinks. There’s nothing in here. You’ll never find Chenle’s letters, and the mystery will always be just that.

“I…I’m so sorry.” You drop your head into your hands. “I’m acting like an idiot right now.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m just confused. This whole time, I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me…that’s why I haven’t been back in a while.” Chenle takes a step closer to you, reaching out to touch your arm. “I would never leave you.”

You finally look at him. Really look at him. The worried furrow to his brow, the slight downturn of his lips, concern clouding those beautiful irises of his. Standing in front of you is the reason you are who you are today.

“You just…Okay, I need a while to figure all of this out.” You glance up to the ceiling, closing your eyes and taking a shuddering breath. “Can you go? I don’t really want to see you right now.”

Hurt plays out on his face, but after he blinks a few times, he nods slowly. “Yeah. Sure. Um, I’ll see you later. If it helps any, I probably could’ve tried to call or something.”

“We were kids.” You sigh. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

You say that, but it would have. The entire trajectory of your life may have changed if Chenle was still in it back then. As much as you want to be pissed at your mother for hiding things from you, maybe she was right.

Chenle takes his bottom lip between his teeth, looking you over one more time as he nods. “Right. I…I’ll see you around.”

Before you respond, he’s turning away from you and disappearing down the hall. You feel a lot of things—overwhelmed, confused, sad. But you also almost feel naive for listening to him—for believing that your mother hid things from you. Your brain stops being logical when Chenle’s around, and you know it’s a mistake to bring him back into your life. The hurt has passed, but that doesn’t mean it won’t rear its ugly head if you’re in such close proximity to him.

You go back downstairs to grab your phone, and the first thing you do is dial your mom’s number. She picks up after the first ring.

“Hi, honey! I was about to text you. New York is fascinating! You’d love it—”

“Did Chenle write me letters?”

“Oh.” She clears her throat. “Where is this coming from?”

“He’s here,” you mutter. “He told me he sent me letters, mom.”

“(Y/N), you have to understand where I was coming from.”

“Where are they?” You slap your hand to your forehead. “Where?”

“He still left, you know. I understand he’s important to you, but he still chose a career over you. And you would’ve thrown everything away for him without a second thought.” Your mom takes a deep breath. “You needed to live your life for you.”

“Where are they?” you repeat. “If you threw them away, I will never forgive you.”

“Of course, I didn’t throw them away. They’re in my closet in a little gold box on the floor. When you read those…don’t get any ideas. He lives far away and he’s even less available for you now than he was before.”

You hang up without saying another word and run back up the stairs. It takes you only a few seconds to find the box she told you about. When you open it, your breath shudders at the stack of letters in there. Some are aged and crinkly, but the ones toward the top are newer. Your hands shake as you grab them, mouth dry as you see the dates listed across the front of the envelope.

You start with the one on the bottom, the oldest, and ever so carefully opening it. Blinking back tears, you take in the painfully familiar handwriting that belonged to your Chenle.

(Y/N)

This is probably the worst way to do this, I know. I’m leaving to follow my dreams, and while I wish I could take you with me, it doesn’t make sense. Your mom would never agree to let you come. Thinking of going through all of this without you scares me more than I care to admit.

I don’t have a phone yet, but as soon as I get one, I’ll send you a letter with the number! It’ll be nice to hear your voice again. I’m writing this early, so I actually spoke with you earlier today, but it’s funny how quickly I miss you.

You’re probably going to be really mad at me, and that’s okay. I deserve it. The reason I didn’t tell you isn’t very simple, but I hope you understand it. Saying goodbye to you would feel so permanent. Goodbye itself is too permanent for my liking, so I’ve never liked them.

If I looked into your eyes and told you I was leaving, I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to go. Or that I’d sneak you with me in my carry-on. I didn’t want to hurt you. You mean so much to me, (Y/N). I don’t ever want to make you upset, and I know you’ll eventually understand why I had to do it this way.

Just know I’ll be thinking about you every day. You’re the reason I’ll have the strength to get through this training period.

Talk to you soon,

Your Chenle

You trace your finger along the bottom of the page. Face wet, you clear your throat as you delicately set it aside to grab the next one. According to the date on the envelope, it’s from a few months after the first one.

(Y/N),

These past few months have been so hectic. I think I almost died a couple times, but here I am. I debuted last week! I’m in a group called NCT, but I debuted in the sub-unit NCT DREAM. It seems surreal, and it happened so much faster than I thought.

I think you’d like the other guys. They’re nice and loud and friendly. Honestly, they seem like they’ve been working together for a little bit of time already, so I’m the newest one here. I heard someone say they’d been training for a while…

Anyway, I said in the last letter that I’d give you my phone number. I realized after I left that you didn’t have one either, so…I’m not sure how that’ll work. And I wasn’t expecting a response to these at all, but if you want to write back, it’d give me something to look forward to after all this hecticness.

But yeah…honestly, I was a bit worried about moving here and being in a group. I’ve been learning a lot of Korean though, and another member named Jisung has been helping me a lot. He’s a few months younger than me, can you believe it? Everyone treats him like a baby, but I think he likes it. I told them about you, and they all kept teasing me.

Maybe they just don’t understand. You’re my favorite person, of course, I’m going to talk about you and tell them stories about all the fun we had.

Sorry this one is a bit long. I hope you’re not too mad at me. And I also hope that you’re keeping up on me. I think you’d like Chewing Gum…

I’ll talk to you soon! I’ll write my number down at the bottom of the page.

Your Chenle

You have to take a break. You rest your head back against the wall, closing your eyes and imagining how hurt poor, young Chenle must have been when you never responded to his heartfelt letters. You don’t know much about Jisung—besides the obvious, public information—but you’re happy someone was good and helpful to him.

After that, you wonder what it would’ve been like to be there for him through all of that. Based on what you know about his group, he’s been through a lot of ups and downs over the years. You wonder if he wrote about some of the harder things, too.

You read another one that’s about their promotions, how he’s getting closer with the other members. Then one about how he performed with twenty-two others. The next one you grab is dated from 2019. You open it.

(Y/N),

I didn’t think this year would be as hard as it has been. We all expected it, you know? We knew it was going to happen, but it doesn’t change how scary it’s been. I’m sorry it’s been a while since I’ve written. Maybe you just throw them away at this point, which is fine, but I wish I could hear from you. Especially at a time like this.

Dream has a graduation system, and Mark’s been gone for months now. Things have been continuing ‘as normal,’ but without Mark, we don’t really feel complete as a group. We see him as often as we can, but performing without him is…it feels wrong.

I wish I could see you. You’d make everything better in an instant, just like you always did. Sometimes, I feel terrible because the others get sad about the situation, and I can’t figure out any good words to say. You’ve always been so good at comforting others, I wish you were here to help me.

It’s been two years since I’ve seen you. That’s so weird to think about, because I swear I still hear your voice in my head. Your encouraging words, how you always believed in me. I need that now more than ever.

I’m not sure if you know much about Mark, but he’s our rock. We kind of fail to function without him. But in the spirit of missing both you and Mark, I’ll tell you a little story about what happened when I asked Mark for advice.

I asked him about you—about what I could possibly do to make all of this up to you since you deserve it. And not hearing back from you makes me think you might hate me.

Anyway, his question in response was interesting. He wanted to know what you were to me. How I felt about you. At first, I thought he was crazy. I mean, it was obvious—you’re my best friend. I can’t live and function without my best friend.

He asked if that was all.

I vividly remember scrunching up my face and pushing his shoulder. Not too hard, by the way.

But the more he told me about what it felt like to be in love, everything clicked into place. I’m in love with you, (Y/N). I have been for so long that it started feeling like second nature instead of a conscious idea.

I guess it doesn’t matter now. Maybe I’ve failed you too much for it to mean anything to you.

Loss sucks. Losing Mark in Dream has sucked, losing you before I even realized the extent of my feelings sucked, but at the end of the day, I have to keep pushing forward. I’m sorry for any hurt I may have caused, because this situation with Mark also made me realize how much it must have hurt you for me to up and disappear the way I did.

I’m so, so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.

Your Chenle

You wipe angrily at your tears, unsure if you should be mad at yourself or at your mother. She stole this from you. Chenle figured out his feelings for you long before you figured out yours for him, but it feels like a new revelation—to know he felt the same way, even after years without you.

You remember this time where Mark had ‘graduated’ from NCT Dream. And because you knew Chenle well, you could tell he was struggling, even when he put on a happy facade. He needed you, and you weren’t there for him.

No matter how much it hurts, you can’t stop. You grab the next one. His writing became less frequent after that. He wrote to tell you when NCT Dream became a fixed unit, and how happy he was to be reunited as seven. The next was from their first full album. You find the last one, surprised to find how recent it was. There was a large gap between this one and the one before it.

The letter was addressed from a few months ago. The one before had been from two years ago.

(Y/N),

I’m sorry it’s been a while. Honestly, we’ve been so busy, I’ve barely even had the time to sleep. I got news today that we’ll be going to China for an event. I’m coming home, but I figured I should tell you in advance. Give you some time in case you really don’t want to see me.

I still think of you every day. All I want is to hear your voice again, but I won’t ask you to do something you don’t want to. If you have no intention of seeing me, that’s fine. I know I messed this up, but I figured it wouldn’t be right to give up when I’ll be so close.

We’ll be arriving in the next few weeks. I wish I could give you more detailed information, but I won’t even know it until the day of.

If this is it for us, thank you for the time I had with you. I love you, (Y/N). No matter what, that’ll be true, but this will be the last thing I send. I hope you understand.

Love,

Your Chenle

At this point, you’re bawling your eyes out. You aggressively wipe away the tears, cursing yourself for not knowing about these damn letters. All the pain you could’ve helped him through, all the hurt it could’ve saved you from.

You sniffle, grab your phone, and dial the number at the bottom of the second letter. It’s been years since he gave it to you, so there’s a good chance it’s different now. But you don’t exactly feel like going over to his house while his friends are there and making a fool of yourself.

“Hello?” That’s definitely his voice.

“Chenle,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. “My Chenle.”

“Yeah.” His tone softens. “Yeah, yours. Always yours.”

Running your fingers through your hair, you sigh. “I found them. All of them. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says. “It’s not like you even knew about them. Give me one second, I’m gonna go upstairs. Jeno and Jaemin are still here.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, and you hear him say something to the other guys. They reply, and then you hear the tell-tale sound of the stairs creaking beneath Chenle’s feet. Once he makes it up to his bedroom, he closes the door behind him.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “That’s a lot to read all at once.”

“I don’t know. I’m so mad, Lele. How could she hide those from me? If I’d known you didn’t just leave me, it would’ve hurt so much less. And seeing all this pain you went through all by yourself…I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he tells you. “We know the truth now. I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” you whisper, burying your head in your palm. “Not even if I tried.”

There’s a brief silence, only filled with the sounds of you sniffling and Chenle breathing. He’s right next door, but the idea of being with him is too real. You need time to process all of this, and bringing him around while you do isn’t the best idea.

“You said you loved me.”

“Love,” he corrects you. “Present tense. I never stopped.”

“I kept up with you.” You play with the seam of your jeans. “With everything you did with Dream and all the accomplishments you’ve had so far. I’ve been so proud of you with no way to say it.”

“I almost stopped writing letters. Mark convinced me not to give up, but after seven years I was pretty sure you wouldn’t change your mind,” he admits.

“If I’d been receiving them I would’ve called you the second you gave me your number.”

“That’s what I’d been hoping for.” Chenle takes a deep breath. “We have to go soon for a schedule, but can I come see you later?”

Later wasn’t really definitive. The thought of him in your house and in your space is scary, terrifying even, but this is Chenle. The boy who used to play piano with you and sing to his heart’s content. From what you’ve seen, this version of him doesn’t seem too different than that boy.

“Please,” you whisper. “Will you be hungry? I can make you something.”

“It’ll be late. Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Not too long after your conversation, you hear the three boys clamber into the van. You try to busy yourself throughout the day, cleaning in order to distract yourself. Eventually, you sit down at the piano and play whatever song comes to memory. One of the ones Chenle taught you back when he was here.

You taught yourself a few of Dream’s songs as well, like Rainbow, My Youth, Puzzle Piece, Teddy Bear, and most recently, Like We Just Met from their newest album. You play the last one, the darkness cascading around you as the sunset fades away from view. It’s only you and the starlight now, a gentle melody flooding through the air around you.

The door creaks open, and Chenle walks through when you’re almost done with the song. You stop playing, standing up to greet him. There’s an odd moment where you stand there staring at each other, admiring the way the starlight reflects off his skin. His eyebrows are furrowed, like he’s trying to decide what to do next.

You don’t hesitate anymore. Moving forward, you wrap your arms around him and bury your head in his chest. He immediately reciprocates, shaky breath passing by his lips as he holds you closely. His heart thrashes, the sound more than similar to yours.

“I missed you,” he says.

“I missed you, too,” you reply easily, tightening your grip on him.

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, wetness gathered beneath them. With shaky hands, you reach up to wipe it away. His gaze travels over your face.

“You love me.”

He nods hesitantly, palms pressing into the small of your back. “Always have.”

“I’ve always loved you, too.” Before you talk yourself out of it, you’re on the tips of your toes to kiss him. It starts gently, your mouth barely brushing his before his breath catches in his throat. Then it’s real—he pulls you flush against him, lips fitting with yours like he’s made for you.

You move your hands from his cheeks to his hair, leaning into him. His fingers latch onto the fabric of your shirt. Next thing you know, he’s walking you backward until he’s pressing your back into a wall.

“We have so much to talk about.” He rests his forehead on yours. “So much air to clear up.”

“Yeah.” You nod, but your stare is focused directly on his lips.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” he warns you. “I don’t get to come here often, so unless you were to come to Korea, we’d pretty much never see each other. My schedules are so packed, I’m practicing all day and half-dead by the time I get home. I can be a real asshole when I’m tired, and sometimes I might take jokes too far. This life is not easy, (Y/N). I need you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“What am I even doing here?” you ask. “I can come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to give up everything you have for me.” He shakes his head, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You’re not asking. Chenle, I spent years thinking you were gone without a word. All I want is to be with you as much as possible.”

“At least think about it for a little bit first, okay? I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.” He gulps. “That goes for a lot of things.”

“I’ve had seven years to think about all the things I wanted from you.”

“You can’t say things like that,” he mutters.

You’re painfully aware of what it feels like to have him pressed against you, warm in all the right ways and, despite being so thin, he’s firm to the touch. The ache you feel to be closer to him is overwhelming.

“I spent years thinking everything was a lie,” you tell him. “That I couldn’t possibly have mattered to you if you could just disappear without a word.”

His fingers play with yours, discomfort at the idea plastered across his face. “Never. I never would’ve done that. You’ve always meant so much to me.”

“I’m just happy I finally get to tell you all of the things I wanted to tell you after I found out you were gone.” You give him the smallest smile, and he reaches up to trace along your bottom lip.

The simple touch sends sparks flying down your spine, and you’re sure you’ll crumble to dust right at his feet from the forceful impact of it. An odd tug occurs in your chest, one that has you questioning if you’ve ever experienced it before. It pulls you toward him, and despite being flush, your mind dips to dangerous places that could get you so, so much closer.

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but this is Chenle. Your Chenle. And if you’re having these feelings for him, there’s no need to hide it.

“I…” you trail off, clenching onto the fabric of his shirt, right above his heart. “Do you feel it, too? Everything is…different now.”

“Under other circumstances, I’d say different is bad,” he whispers. “But there’s nothing bad about the way you’re looking at me.”

His arms wrap around your waist tightly, and simultaneously, you both lean in until your lips are locked in a gentle battle. The warmth of his touch finds your hip, where your sweater rose up enough to reveal your skin. You let out a shaky sigh, and he squeezes you.

“Come upstairs with me?” Your invite is airy, suggestive, and he analyzes you while his gaze darkens.

“If that’s what you want,” he says.

“Is it what you want?” You tilt your head at him, voice quiet since he’s so close.

He pauses and wets his lips. “Of course, it is. I just don’t want you to regret anything. Losing you once was enough, and I refuse to go through that again.”

Instead of answering, you intertwine your fingers with his and lead him toward the stairs, through the blackness of the night casting through the windows. You take one step at a time, your heart thundering and blood pulsing through your veins. One look at your shoulder, and for a second, you almost swear you see the younger versions of you and Chenle sitting by the piano. Caught up in the music. In each other.

He follows you, entranced by the way you move and how you’re so willingly guiding him. Everything happens in slow motion for you. Too fast but too slow at the same time, somehow the moment you’ve waited for your entire life while simultaneously the thing that’s scared you the most.

Your Chenle.

He said it himself. Why is it so foreign to think about? That maybe, even after all this time, he loves you even an ounce of how much you love him? Endless devotion with no contact. But he did the same—he waited and waited for your response much like you waited for any contact from him. You were both physically and metaphorically in the dark.

The door to your bedroom creaks as you push it open, embarrassed by how little it’s changed since the last time he was in it. The walls are still the same color, faded and paint peeling in some of the corners. Your bed has been swapped from twin-sized to a queen, but everything else is virtually untouched.

No more words are spoken.

They’re not needed.

You don’t need anything. Not when you have him.

He presses your body into the mattress, climbing over you gently. His touch is tender, sweet, not too much pressure. You’re halfway certain you’ll wake up from this dream any time now, and you’ll once again be without him. Without his touch and his love and his truths.

Kissing him is like touching the sun. It burns, nearly enough to make you combust into flames, but magnetic. He is your sun, and you are the Earth. You revolve around him.

Normally, anyone else taking your clothes off would make you nervous, but you know you’re in good hands with Chenle. Your shirt is tossed aside first, his mouth instantly dipping down to explore every inch of exposed skin. His tongue drags along the swells of your breasts, over your collarbones. He nips, teeth leaving shallow indents on your soft flesh.

Your whines are soft, delicately slicing into the silence of the air. The first time he hears you, he freezes, his eyelashes fluttering against your neck as he takes in the way you sound. Quiet cries of ‘more’ escape you while your hands explore beneath his T-shirt.

Never before in your life have you wanted someone with such despracy. Your body aches for him, and the tug in your chest that pulled you closer to him has finally revealed how. As his fingers pop the button on your jeans, you lift your hips.

He pulls his lips away from your chest, gaze honing in on yours. There’s something swirling around in his irises, and you’re sure yours reflect the same. He doesn’t have to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. Not verbally. You nod, guiding his mouth back to yours.

The heat of his touch dips dangerously low, past your jeans and the hem of your panties. You gasp, appreciative of how he catches the sound. You’ve been touched before, but nobody has ever compared to the way he feels. When you’ve met your soulmate, nothing could be better.

He rubs slow circles on your clit, eyes hazy from knowing he’s the one who made you feel this way. Normally, you’d need more. A simple touch wouldn’t be enough to have you squirming in someone’s grasp, but there’s so much more behind his movements than lust.

And he takes it a step further, sliding his long fingers inside you. His gaze focuses on you the whole time, watching your face for any sign of discomfort as he thrusts his hand. He nudges your sensitive bud with the heel of his palm every time he’s knuckle deep.

Your stomach feels elastic, as if you’re stretching a rubber band, and it’s taking everything you have not to let it snap back. It’s too good. Too intoxicating. Too early for it to be over. He swallows your short moans, picking up his pace. You lean up, yearning for his kiss. He doesn’t need to ask, and the second your lips meet, you tighten around him, and it’s over.

Warmth spreads all over your body, your insides boil, and butterflies swarm deep in your stomach. Your eyes shut, and your head falls back against your pillow. He kisses all over your face, humming quietly.

He pulls away from you to help you remove the last of your clothing, the fabric of your panties sticking uncomfortably until he tugs them down your legs.

You reach down to feel him through his pants, unable to stop the shuddering breath that escapes you when you touch his length. He grinds into your hand, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

Finally, nothing separates the two of you anymore. The tip of his cock presses against your entrance, the initial pressure already making you crave more. You need all of him, so you wrap your legs around his waist and dig your heels into his back to tell him to push in further. Your whole body tingles with pleasure, the type enough to make your toes curl, and your chest heaves as you adjust to his size.

His forehead drops against your shoulder, grasping one of your hands in his own to squeeze. He takes you slowly, his throbbing length stretching you to your limits and rubbing your walls perfectly. You were made for him, you’re certain. He fits so well, so completely, there’s no other explanation for it.

He curses under his breath, eyes threatening to flutter shut from the pleasure. Sweat clings to you tighter than Chenle does, but you relish in the way you react to him. His eyebrows pinch as he looks at you for any sign of discomfort.

His name slips past your lips. In that moment, you truly become his, and he becomes yours. Bodies meld together, each one of his thrusts sliding so pleasantly inside you. There’s no sound from either of you besides the brief exchange of names, moans from both of you, and the slick of your wetness.

He kisses you, thrusting at a steady, mind-crumbling pace. His chest brushes against yours, breathing uneven as he clenches the bedsheets next to your head. You quickly realize you could do this forever. The feeling of him so deep inside you would never subside, and you find yourself never wanting to separate from him.

Starlight gleams off his skin, the blue shine accenting the sheen of sweat clinging to him. His muscles contract as he holds himself over you, and his hair hangs over his eyes. All you can do in your current state is push it back, basking in the softness of it.

Picking up his pace, he slides one of his hands down your body, his thumb connecting with your clit. You’re a moaning mess, clinging to him as the familiar sensation returns to the pit of your stomach.

His trembling breath fans across your ear as he leans close. You’re unsure of how to handle all of the pleasure, your body spasming. He presses a kiss on that sensitive spot.

“I love you,” he whispers.

And that’s all it takes to have you shatter around him, your back arching as you grip onto his shoulders for dear life. He moans loudly, hips stuttering as your walls clench. When he spills inside you, it’s as if the last piece of you two finally comes together.

In bliss, you tell him you love him, too, over and over.

He kisses you passionately once more before gently pulling out of you, reassuring you that he’ll be right back so you let go. Grabbing a towel from your bathroom, he cleans you up, gaze drinking up every part of you. Once he’s finished, he crawls next to you in bed, pulling you to his chest.

You’re still certain you’ll wake up, and all of this will have been a dream, but until then, you’re going to enjoy it. Burying yourself in the warmth of his chest, you hum in content when he pulls the blankets over the two of you.

Finally, he’s here.

He’s no longer a memory trapped within the piano keys in your foyer.

He’s your Chenle, never to leave your side again.

#nct dream #chenle #nct imagines #nct #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #nct smut #chenle smut #chenle fluff #chenle angst

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