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hyukalyptus · 1 month ago

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office hours — professor!soobin x gradstudent!reader

cw. chubby!reader, reader is an adult grad student, minimal age gap, clear consent, petnames (babe, baby, honey, darling, good boy), mommy kink, face sitting, unprotected penetration, creampie, cunnilingus, handjobs, ending is cheesy, "epilogue" of sorts involves christmas vibes, kissing, please lmk if i'm missing anything. NSFW/MDNI notes. i would feel irresponsible if i didn't acknowledge this is a romanticized portrayal of a professor-student relationship. while the relationship in this story has clear consent multiple times, irl relationships like this can be inappropriate and exploitative bc of the authority imbalance. you deserve a healthy, consensual relationship. prioritize ur well-being and autonomy. relationships should be built on mutual respect, equality and clear consent. this is a work of fiction and should be read as such. shoutout to @silvergyus for sending the prof!soob pic <3 wc. 11.6k

“Which brings us to Le Chatelier's Principle in real-world chemical reactions,” Professor Choi says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “This will be review for most of you, so I won’t go into too much detail.”

Chemistry is your favorite thing in the world. It’s real-life magic. And Professor Choi sees it that way too. His olive green chinos are wrinkled from walking from his office. The sleeves of his white button-down are pushed up so he can write freely on the whiteboard while his burgundy tie sways with his scurries.

Sparks of passion fill his eyes as he lectures. And he never disappoints with his cheesy jokes. Although you seem to be the only one that laughs at them—maybe you’re the only one that gets them. Not many students in his class are the experts in chemistry you are. You took it as a break from your intense course load and the elective credits are a nice bonus.

Most of your professors are so old they barely know how to turn on their laptop and are so deep into their tenure they’ve given up. If you bothered showing up to their office hours, you’d be lucky to find a professor, let alone a helpful one. So you’ve become a frequent visitor in Professor Choi’s office hours, talking about advanced chemistry he can’t wait to teach but it’ll be at least five years before he can. In the meantime, he’ll settle for nerding out with you in his office for a few hours every week.

“Great class today, everyone,” he says. “Have a great weekend and don’t hesitate to visit me during my office hours with any questions!” That sentence started out as a normal speaking voice but ended up a shout over the shuffling of the desk chairs and backpacks. You’re typically the last one out, but you save your questions for his office hours tomorrow.

“Hi,” you say, lightly tapping your knuckle against his office door.

Turning around in his chair, his lips form a pout in surprise at seeing you. “Were you waiting outside? Sorry that meeting ran a little long—” He shuffles to organize his desk.

“That’s okay.” Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, he rests his hands on his thighs and looks up at you. Did he just look you up and down? Don’t be ridiculous.

“What can I do ya for?”

“Right,” you start. “Can I…?” You ask, motioning toward the spare chair, waiting for his nod before sitting. “You know Professor Vaughn’s class?” You barely catch it, but his eyes roll. Professor Vaughn is the worst professor you’ve had. Boring, harsh, impatient. It doesn’t help he teaches one of the most complex forms of chemistry. “I’m not really getting this week’s content and was wondering if you could help me.”

“Of course.” He smiles. And it’s devastating. The sparkle in his eyes and those dimples. Craning his neck to look at your notes riddled with red question marks, he nods. As soon as he sees the title of your notes, he says, “Let’s think about this from a quantum mechanical perspective. If we assume that the π-complex is forming, we’re talking about a stabilization due to delocalization π-electrons, right?”

In what feels like no time at all, an hour has passed and the conversation has been the complete opposite of Professor Vaughn’s lectures. Questions led down rabbit holes, leading to other theorems and more questions. As he glances up at you through his glasses, there is an undeniable tingle in your stomach.

It’s not like you haven’t noticed how attractive Professor Choi is. He’s tall, lean but undeniably strong, he has the most perfect silky black hair and the prettiest brown eyes, and his pout—indescribably cute. And again—those goddamn dimples. He’s the perfect mixture of sexy, handsome, and pretty. You’d never think of doing anything with a professor, but you can’t help your mind wanders during the slower lectures.

How long have you been staring at each other in silence? Too long probably. He clears his throat. “Well,” he says, looking at his watch. “My office hours have been over for a few—”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” you say, stumbling as you stand, attempting to gather your things as quickly as possible. But he shakes his head, trying to shrug it off.

“That’s okay,” he says. “I, uh, I just have my emails waiting for me.”

You nod, shoving everything into your bag and heading out the door. What was that? You’re probably overreacting, you think to yourself. He’s charming because of his looks, there’s no way he’d— No. Don’t even finish that thought.

"How is it that someone who scored the highest in my theoretical chemistry exam is turning basic lab work into a spectacle of incompetence?" Professor Vaughn boasts over your right shoulder. No doubt his thick eyebrows are furrowed.

As your hands tighten around the test tube, you know exactly what to do—you always do—but everything slips through your fingers in his class.

"I’m trying to get the reaction to stabilize," you stammer, eyes darting between your hands, the chemical reagents lined up on the table, and your notebook.

Professor Vaugn’s expression hardens as he steps closer, looking down his nose at your station. "Trying is for high school sophomores. If you’re still trying, you’re behind."

Taking a deep breath, you carefully add three more drops to the mixture but the reaction goes wrong. Again. A plume of white smoke rises from the beaker, and the liquid turns an unexpected, muddy brown.

"Unbelievable," Vaughn mutters loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone knows you’re the best student in your class. Well, everyone except Soren, who’s so jealous of your intelligence they can hardly stand it. They simply smirk. "I expected more from you."

Your heart sinks. You checked those calculations three times. Maybe it’s your shaky hands. Or the pressure of him looming over your shoulder. Or the other stuff on your mind.

"Are you going to sit there and guess again, or would you like to double down on failure with your next attempt?" Vaughn sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I’m not guessing, Professor. I—"

"Can’t manage a basic reaction?" Vaughn interrupts with his icy voice. "I’m beginning to wonder how you even made it into this program."

"I’m perfectly capable. The solution is just—"

"Wrong. Yes, we’ve established that." Vaughn’s lips curl into a patronizing sneer. "Maybe chemistry isn’t the field for you if this is the best you can manage." That got everyone’s attention—it would be an interesting sight to see you fail. It so rarely happens. Sure, you’ve been doubted before but have always proven yourself. Today would be no different.

You take a deep breath and count to yourself, One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

As you block out Vaughn’s piercing gaze and the weight of the other students’ eyes, you carefully remeasure the chemical, adjusting the proportions this time, methodically double-checking your work. You add the reagent once more, slowly, and watch as the solution begins to shift.

A moment passes. The reaction stabilizes and the solution turns a clear, pale blue.

"Finally," Vaughn mutters. You don’t even have to look at him to know he rolled his eyes. He turns to walk away but pauses. "Barely acceptable. Next time, you won’t be given the luxury of so many failures."

Bursting through the door upon dismissal, you can’t get to the restroom fast enough, barely making it to a stall before tears stream down your cheeks.

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five,” you whisper to yourself.

Sometimes, chemical reactions need to be dealt with instantly, but that’s an overwhelming amount of pressure. You give yourself five seconds before you absolutely have to deal with it. Same thing here. Cry. Count to five. Wipe your tears and move on.

But it’s difficult to move on this time. You’ve counted to five a few too many times today. But the only person you want to talk about it with is—

Professor Choi, Are you available to meet me in Lab 270 tomorrow afternoon? I’ve been struggling with some reactions and could use some help. I’ll be there from 2:00—4:00. If not, no worries!

Sniffling, you hit send on your email app, shove your phone in your bag and head home.

The next day drags on and on. Did he even get your message? Expecting an empty lab, you’re surprised to find Professor Choi waiting for you behind a laptop wearing a cute tweed jacket with suede elbow patches. His eyebrows are furrowed as his focused eyes study the computer, but they brighten at the sight of you.

Initially surprised by your confusion, he squeezes his eyes shut and says, “I didn’t respond to your email, did I?” He’s already got the lab station set up. How long has he been waiting on you? “So, how’s Professor Vaughn’s class?” Did someone tell him about yesterday? God, you hope not.

“Fine,” you deadpan. Shaking your head, you say, “I’m sorry…I’m just kinda stressed.”

“I can go if you need some time by—”

“No,” you say, softening your tone. “I’d really appreciate your help.”

And he’s more than willing, letting you ask whatever you want, never interrupting or talking over you like most of the men in the program. He gives you space to explore ideas and theories, listening closely instead of answering everything for you.

And he’s so damn sexy when he’s the one doing the ranting. The way he talks with his hands, ones that are so big with fingers so long you wish he would wrap around your—

“Shut up.”

“Excuse me?” He asks.

Oh shit, did you say that out loud? What a fucking nightmare. “Uh, sorry, just…talking to myself. Too many thoughts racing around the ole dome.”

A slight pout forms on his lips as he continues his rant. Now, the only thing you can think of are his lips wrapped around your—

“Ah!” Your hand slips toward the Bunsen burner and, great, now you’ve got a nice burn on your thumb.

“Oh gosh, are you okay?” He stands quickly. “Let me see.” His fingers graze your palm, igniting a fiercer burn than the actual flame just did. “Run it under cold water, okay?”

In the meantime, he straightens up your station before meeting you at the sink. “Is something wrong?” His words make you jump. “You seem distracted.”

That’s all it takes. The floodgates open. You rant about the sexist piece of shit Professor Vaughn and his power moves to intimidate you when he knows you’re the best student in the program. About how embarrassed you were in lab yesterday. Last semester when you raised your hand to correct an equation on the board and he gave you a firm talking to about respect after class.

He watches you carefully, handing over a towel for your hands as you take a steadying breath, fighting back tears.

“Did I ever tell you why I started studying chemistry?” he asks. You sniffle, shaking your head. “My grandfather. He was a baker.” His voice softens, and you look up to find his eyes full of kindness. “Every Saturday, he’d make me work in his bakery. I didn’t mind—it felt like magic, you know? But really, it’s science. It’s all precision, measurements, timing.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Once, I tried baking a cake for my mom’s birthday, followed his recipe exactly. Measured the flour, the sugar, the cocoa. When I pulled it out of the oven, it was hard. Flat. I was sure he’d be disappointed, calling it a waste of time and ingredients. I was terrified. But he looked at it, smiled, and told me to try again the next day. When I asked why it didn’t work, he said I needed to ‘feel my way through it.’”

You sit there, the sting from your burn now fading, but your heart’s still aching, wanting something from him—a hug, a kiss, even just a pat on the shoulder.

“If I’d gotten it right the first time, I’d never know what overmixed batter looks like. Or that I like more cocoa than he did. Or that you should coat berries in flour.” His smile creeps up to his eyes. “Seeing how failure could make you better—it made me curious. I wanted to understand why some things worked and others didn’t, why I needed to feel my way through it, to get into the details.” He makes eye contact with you again. “That’s why I went into chemistry. Baking taught me the magic is in the little things—if you’re willing to screw up and keep going.”

Nodding, you smile back. His words hang in the air for a moment, like they’re meant to settle, but something’s missing.

“All I’m saying is, its okay to fuck things up, okay?” he says, his candidness drawing a chuckle from you. “How else would you learn?”

The world’s drained of color—only hazy shades of grey and beige are left. Your palms press against a cold marble countertop with the faint sound of running water echoing in the distance. The reflection of the mirror looks like you, but not quite. The woman in the mirror has her lips painted a dark, sultry brown, a shade you’d never choose. And the outfit is far too dressy for a lecture. Shadows fall where there shouldn’t be any.

The hallways are unfamiliar, yet you know it's the same building you visit almost every day. It's blurry, like you’re walking through a memory that isn’t yours.

You look down at the saddle shoes on your feet clicking against the tile floor, unnervingly filling the emptiness. It feels like someone else is controlling your body but you don’t question it. You can’t. Your hand raises, knuckles brushing a wooden door before it creaks open on its own.

On the other side of the door, Professor Choi faces a green chalkboard. Has that always been in his office? Hurriedly scribbling down equations, he glances between the board and the notebook in his hand. When he looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes soften and a slow smile spreads across his face. “Come in,” he says gently, setting his notebook aside. His voice wraps around you, making the room feel smaller, closer. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your spine tingles. “I know,” you reply, but the words sound hollow, like you’re speaking from somewhere else.

“Here,” he suggests, holding a piece of chalk out to you. The way he gestures toward the board is magnetic. As you take it from his hand, your fingers brush his. “What do you think of this?” An unfinished equation waits to be solved. His presence looms behind you, close but not quite touching as you reach up to solve it. Your heart pounds, every stroke of the chalk on the board heavier than it should.

“Impressive,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough around the edges. You turn to face him and he’s closer than expected, his warmth radiating against your skin. The air is thick with something unspoken. You step closer, tentative at first, then quicker, more certain. Your lips almost brush his, but he pulls back, his breath catching.

He looks down, your name a whisper on his lips, soft and pained. “I—” His eyes flicker up to meet yours, then fall back down like the weight of your gaze is too much.

“What?” You ask, your voice barely more than a breath. Your eyes dart between his, lingering on his tempting mouth. He leans in again with desire in his eyes. He wants to kiss you. You can feel it. And for a moment you think he might.

But he pulls away, his forehead nearly resting against yours. “I don’t think we should be doing this,” he says, his voice strained, as if saying the words is physically painful for him.

“Why not?” The question slips from your lips before you can stop it, frustration and longing lacing your tone.

His hands flex at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to touch you. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to, or—”

“Why would I feel like that?” you interrupt, your voice impatient. Your heart races, pounding in your ears, drowning out reason.

“I’m your professor,” he breathes out like it’s a curse. His words only fan the flames of the tension building between you. There’s nothing wrong with that, you think to yourself. It’s not like you’re fresh out of high school—you’re a grad student, close to starting the same PhD he earned barely three years ago. He’s no more than five years older.

“I don’t care,” you insist, stepping even closer, your lips a breath away from his. “I want you to kiss me.”

His eyes darken, his resolve faltering as his gaze drops to your lips. “It’s a mistake,” he whispers, but his voice trembles with indecision, trying to convince himself more than you.

“Make the mistake,” you urge, your voice soft but sure. Your hand reaches for his tie, tugging as light as you can just to bring him that much closer. “You said it yourself, it’s okay to fuck things up.”

There’s a beat of silence, so thick it feels as though the room itself is holding its breath, waiting. And in that moment, the space between you seems to collapse, the weight of everything unsaid pulling you closer.

The millisecond before your lips touch, you breathe awake.

You bolt straight up, feeling around your soft bed sheets, breathless as your heart pounds from the vividness of it all. For a moment, you linger in the feeling, brushing your fingers over your lips, feeling the warmth of the almost kiss. But reality sinks in and your stomach drops.

Reaching for your phone, you check the time. Great, it’s almost time for his class. But there’s no hazy world to hide in. Skipping class might be an option but an exam reminder drags you out of bed.

Trudging across campus, your stomach sinks lower with each step. How can you look him in the eye? Dropping your bag to the floor with a thud, you hang your head low. Let’s just get through this exam and get outta here.

“How’s your hand?” Professor Choi’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding his hands up. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Looking at you like you’re the cutest puppy he’s ever seen, you can’t bring yourself to speak, but you hold out your hand. The second his fingertips touch yours, you flinch and jerk it back.

“Um—” you start. “Better, thanks.” Turning away from him, you distract yourself with a random notebook from your bag.

“...You okay? You shouldn’t be nervous about the exam.” When you look up, you’re met with eyes that appear…hurt?

“No, it’s not that.” That’s not a good answer. “Just…” What would you even say? I had an incredibly vivid—and delicious—dream about you last night and now I need to know how your lips feel in real life? “Cramps.”

“Ah.” He nods and leaves you alone, awkwardly walking to the front of the class to make some announcements and general good wishes before the exam. With your fist pressed to your chin, you refuse to look up, hanging your head low even as he slides you your copy.

There’s a bright green post-it stuck to it with a note, It’s okay to fuck it up! Your heart races as your eyes dart around searching for him. When you find him, he gives you a soft smile. You return the smile but rush to unstick it before anyone sees, storing it in your notebook for safe keeping.

As you return to your apartment, the post-it stares back at you like you’re the guiltiest son-of-a-bitch in the world. It’s practically calling you a whore. And you can hardly take it anymore. You can’t bring yourself to face him for class a few days later—although skipping feels like a cardinal sin. Soon enough, though, your email dings.

From: Choi Soobin, PhD I noticed you were absent from class today. I hope everything’s okay. The lecture notes are attached for your reference. Feel free to stop by my office hours with any questions. Professor Choi

Did your heart just flutter? Why are you walking toward his office? When you knock on the door, he stands—more like stumbles—to greet you, “Hi!”

“Hi, Professor Choi…” You linger in the doorway, clutching your notebook tight to your chest. “Sorry I missed class—”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah—”

“You’re not overwhelmed with coursework, are you?” His eyes search yours, and there’s a softness in his voice that makes it hard to look away.

“No, no, I’m alright. I just…had a migraine this morning,” you say, shrugging slightly. “It’s gone now, though.”

He nods, easing into a warm smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” His gaze doesn’t waver and the intensity makes your pulse quicken. “So, I’m guessing you’re here to go over questions from the lecture?”

“Actually, it’s Professor Vaughn’s class I’m struggling with. His lecture today was…brutal.”

“I’m shocked,” he says sarcastically. “The man’s got a gift for making simple concepts sound like Greek.”

“Exactly,” you laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing. “I thought it was me, but he seems to take pride in making everything harder than it needs to be.”

“Trust me, it’s not you,” he says, a glint of warmth in his eyes. “He’s terrible. And annoying. And boring. And I’d tell him that.”

You raise a brow, skeptical. “You wouldn’t.”

“Well…” He breaks into a grin. “Maybe after I reach tenure. Though he may be retired by then.”

“Or dead,” you say matter-of-factly. He looks at you awkwardly then you both laugh, genuinely. There’s an ease to it.

He gestures to your notebook. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

“I can’t believe I’m laughing at that,” you say, a giggle escaping your lips.

“You always laugh at my bad jokes,” he replies, staring at your face a little too longingly. If you were anyone else, he might find some excuse to touch you. Maybe brush a piece of lint off your shoulder, lightly touch your arm while he laughed at something you said, or something as casual as a fist bump.

If he were any other guy, you’d be much more obvious, making it crystal clear you want him to kiss you right now. But you can’t. You don’t even know how he thinks about you. You’re probably just another student to him.

“Well, those are all my questions,” you say, awkwardly packing your bag.

“Yeah, you can, uh…head out…” he trails off as you start to rise from your seat.

You’re searching for something to say, something to let you stay just a little longer. But nothing comes. He watches you walk toward the door, the silence hanging in the space between you.

“Pens!” His voice suddenly burst out, loud enough to make you stop mid-step. “They, uh—I went to a conference last week and they gave me a ton,” he says, scrambling to gather a handful from his desk.

You take them, your fingers brushing against his in a way that feels far too intimate. His eyes lock with yours, the touch sending a ripple of tension through you. “But you’re, uh…picky about your pens, aren’t you?” He asks, his voice softer now, almost unsure.

Laughing quietly, you say, “Yeah, but…that’s okay.” Your words are heavy with subtext you can’t bring yourself to say out loud. “Well, goodbye.” You offer him a smile, stepping back toward the door. “Thanks again.”

“Yeah. Goodbye,” he says, but his feet shuffle forward as if he’s moving without thinking. Awkwardly reaching for a handshake, he realizes your hands are occupied. Instead, he reaches around you for the door handle, but he gets a tad too close and your brain scrambles.

Before you can hold yourself back, you drop the pens, letting them clatter to the floor as your arms wrap around his neck. Your lips meet his in a rush, warm and soft. While your eyes close to savor the feeling, his widen in shock before he relaxes into your touch and wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer.

It’s everything you’ve been holding back—unspoken feelings unraveling in a heartbeat. His lips move against yours with a hunger that surprises you, the world melting away as you lose yourself in the moment. You feel weightless, your pulse racing as his hands grip your waist a little tighter, as though he’s afraid to let you go.

When you finally break apart, breathless and dazed, he presses his forehead to yours, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re never gonna use those pens, are you?” he asks, his voice low and rough, like he’s trying to anchor himself in humor, trying to bring himself back down to earth.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No,” you admit, your heart still pounding. “They’re garbage.”

Before you can think, you kiss him again and this time, he doesn’t hesitate. His mouth crashes into yours with an urgency, like he’s wanted to kiss you since the second he laid eyes on you. His lips are soft, but his kiss is demanding, making up for all the lost moments between you. For those few minutes, nothing else matters—you bask in one of the greatest kisses either of you have ever had. But not for long.

Reality catches up too quickly. You pull away suddenly, breathless and wide-eyed. “Oh my god—” you gasp, backing up, your fingers graze your lips trying to make sense of what just happened. “I’m so sorry—”

“No,” he interrupts quickly, shaking his head. “Don’t be. I—” He’s stumbling through his words, just as lost as you are but neither of you regret it. “I wanted—”

“That was…” You can’t even finish your sentence. It was everything. Too much, too fast, too real. But you can’t take it back.

“I—” He’s trying to find the right words, to reassure you, to tell you he felt it too, that he wanted it just as badly. But he’s as flustered as you are, his voice rough and unsure.

“I’ll just…go throw myself off a bridge now,” you mumble. You can’t even look at him as you make a beeline for the door, your face burning with embarrassment. You think you hear him say something, but the blood rushing in your ears drowns it out.

You leave the room quickly, your heart about to burst through your chest, trying to process what just happened. The kiss lingers on your lips, a mix of exhilaration and terror swirling inside you. It’s too much to handle.

But, hey, there’s one bit of good news. At least he kissed you back.

What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Drop his class? It’s too late in the semester for that. And you need those credits. Wait until the end of the semester to talk to him again? Can you go that long without his lips on yours again?

Back at your apartment, you rummage through your books to find the university’s code of conduct, hurriedly searching for anything related to “appropriate relationships,” “faculty-student relationships,” “consensual,” blah blah blah, whatever the university has coded sleeping with a professor.

The University strongly urges those individuals in positions of authority not to engage in conduct of an amorous or sexual nature with a person they are, or are likely in the future to be, in a position of evaluating.

Your eyes read over the words, “strongly urges” once more. Not totally against the rules, you suppose. Even if you did wait until the semester was over, you’d need to report it. You wish you could talk with him about it, but bringing this up is tricky. Is it moving too fast? You can’t text him, you don’t have his number. And using your student email to send a message to his faculty email that says, “Oh, by the way, I checked the rules and we’re in the clear to have sex!” is a terrible idea.

Maybe one kiss in his office doesn’t mean anything. Oh, but it was everything.

After much deliberation, you convince yourself to attend his class a few days later. You’ve brought the code of conduct along, as well as a bright pink post-it sticking out of the book. To avoid any form of small talk with him, you wait outside right until the start of class.

Along the way to your desk, you silently plop the code of conduct on his desk and scurry away. When you work up the courage to look up at him, he’s flipped to the marked page. Highlighted on the page is the paragraph that “strongly urges” people in positions of authority not to sleep with students.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. The message couldn’t be clearer, he thought. You’re practically telling him to leave you alone. But when he finally reads the post-it, his heart flutters. Written in your handwriting, it says, It’s okay to fuck it up! complete with a smiley face.

As much as he tries to fight it, he glances up at you to catch your gaze. And just as the slightest smile appears on his face, a big one appears on yours. You hide it with your palm as you start at the blank page of your notebook. Blinking, he shakes his head and begins his lecture. But how can you concentrate now?

You’ve gotta give it to him, he delivers his lecture perfectly. If it were you, you’d barely be able to think. Hell, you barely can throughout the whole thing.

Now that you’ve gotten that smile of permission, you finally let yourself daydream.

Has his ass always been that cute? Has he always been that tall? Has his voice always been that deep and sexy?

You don’t even know what he’s talking about, but that’s okay, you can always stop by his office hours. “What do you think?” He asks.

Oh shit, he’s looking at you for an answer. He can always rely on you to keep class moving along when everybody else is dead silent. You shake out of your thoughts, panic-reading the board to come up with something. It's similar to your discussion you had the last time you went to his office hours. The time that ended in that gorgeous kiss. Throwing together an answer, his eyes brighten as he cheers, “Exactly!”

Oh my god. He’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. You could just gobble him up.

“So, I suppose we should talk about…” Professor Choi trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air like it’s obvious what he’s getting at. And it is. But you stay quiet. You wanna hear him admit it. You raise an eyebrow, playing coy.

You decided to press your luck by visiting his office outside scheduled office hours—right after class—to simply test the waters and gauge his reaction to the code of conduct and that kiss…that incredible kiss.

“You know…” He gestures vaguely between the two of you, sighing like okay, fine, I guess I’ll say it. “I like you and you like me, right?” His voice dips just slightly, enough for you to notice the hesitation. “Unless I’m totally misreading—”

“No! You’re not…misreading anything,” you’re quick to say, along with a chuckle. Phew—he was worried there for a second. So goddamn cute. “What do you wanna talk about?”

He exhales a small laugh, but his smile is strained, cautious. “I want to make sure you don’t feel…weird about this.” Hand sliding nervously along the edge of his desk, he traces the wood grain before his eyes flick up to meet yours. Truth be told, he’d never do something like this with a student. Never want to make anyone feel pressured. But he never thought he’d feel like this. Giddy and blushy like you’re his first crush.

“Why would I feel weird?” You tilt your head, genuinely curious. You’ve thought about this—about him—far too much for any of it to feel weird.

“I’m just terrified you feel like you need to do something about this.” You’re taken aback, confusion visibly etched across your face. “You know, because I’m your professor or because I’m in the department and I know your plans for a PhD here.” His voice softens, vulnerability creeping in. “I don’t want it to feel like I’m pushing you into anything.”

“I don’t,” you say gently. “It’s not like that.”

He nods, though the tightness in his jaw doesn’t disappear. “Because if you ever even remotely feel like I’m pressuring you, I want you to tell me. Immediately. I mean it.”

“No,” You shake your head, almost too fast. “I mean, it doesn’t feel like that. Not at all. I’ve thought about this…about us, a lot.” Your voice falters for a moment as his eyes widen, softening in a way that makes your stomach flutter. You weren’t expecting him to look at you like that—so open, so relieved.

His fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to reach out to you. “Yeah?”

You nod again, more confidently this time. “But I think we should wait until the semester’s over. Before we…you know…do anything.”

He smiles gently and leans back, visibly more at ease. “I think so too.”

But you didn’t realize how fucking difficult it would be to get through the last six weeks of the semester. Every class you sit there, thighs pressed together thinking about the dirtiest things you want him to do to you. Every office hour you went to, you could practically swim through the thickness of the tension between you two.

It didn’t help how cute he was being. Post-its he’d leave on every exam of yours—You’re gonna do great! You’ve got this. Trust your instincts.—encouragement no other student got. You kept every one of them in your bedside table drawer.

When finals week finally arrives, it wasn’t just about exams; it was about counting the hours until you could finally be with him. Or at least talk to him like he wasn’t your professor. As he handed over your final exam, the familiar green post-it note was stuck to it: Happy Finals Week!

Your internal scream was so loud, you’re worried your classmates heard it. You’d pre-written a post-it to stick to it once you returned the exam. It had your phone number, a smiley face, and the words: Since you’re not my professor anymore.

After a full day of checking your phone every twenty seconds, you started to give up. Was he just playing you? Did someone else see the note? Did he change his mind? But finally, you receive a text.

hi! this is soobin (professor choi lol). i was wondering if you wanted to get dinner or something?

soobin!! omg yes i would love to get dinner with you :) how’s tomorrow?

how about right now? if you want, of course! no pressure we can totally wait until tomorrow it’s up to you

You squealed into your pillow, kicking and giggling like an idiot. Should you be flirty back?

i can be ready in 30 min. 364 oakridge drive. it’s an apartment building- i’ll meet you downstairs.

be there in 45 :)

Like a perfect gentleman, Soobin meets you at the passenger door, swinging it open with a charming smile before gently closing it behind you. The slow walk up to his front door makes your stomach stir. He has to fumble through his keys to unlock it.

Once inside, he slips his shoes off quietly, revealing cozy patterned socks that make you smile. Meticulously, he hangs his jacket on a coat tree and places his keys in a speckled clay catch-all that rests on a table next to a houseplant. As he walks toward the kitchen, he glances over his shoulder, his voice low and inviting. “Do you want a drink or something?” The warmth in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re drawn to this softer side of him. In class, his tone is bright and dorky. In his office, it’s casual and laid-back. At dinner, it was sweet and charming. But now? Now it’s sultry, almost sexy. Like he can’t wait to be with you but would never, ever pressure you.

“Hot tea?” You suggest with a steady voice, despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“Sounds good,” he agrees, switching on his tea kettle. In the meantime, you take a look around his much neater than expected apartment.

The mid-century modern furniture is impeccably arranged—a sleek sofa, a low coffee table, and a stylish armchair with an even more stylish decorative pillow. Perfectly nurtured plants thrive around the room, adding a green vibrancy to the minimalist backdrop, breathing life into the space. A gallery wall above his expensive-looking couch features travel photos, beautiful art, and a few subtly science-inspired pieces. In the corner across the couch is a sleek electric fireplace underneath a huge TV.

“Who’s this?” you ask, your heart swelling as a fluffy gray cat glares at you through one half-open eye. Her perfectly groomed fur and regal posture make her look like she owns the place. Just then, Soobin steps into the living room, holding two steaming mugs of tea, filling the air with a warm spice.

“That’s Molly…short for Molecule,” he says. “Don’t worry, she’s sweet.”

Extending your hand toward the cat, he starts to sniff you. “Hi, M—wait,” you pause, looking up at Soobin with a teasing smile. “Molly, short for Molecule?” He nods, his grin widening. “You’re adorable,” you tell him. Has anyone ever blushed quite like he did just now?

He stares down at his feet, clearly caught off guard. “You’re,” he starts. “Well, you’re cute too.” His sincerity makes your smile grow even stronger.

“Can I sit?” you ask, nodding toward the couch.

“Oh,” his smile falters for a moment. “Yes, of course. Make yourself at home.” You plop down on his couch, settling into the surprisingly soft cushions. Molly clearly doesn’t think the couch is big enough for the two of you, so she strides over to probably the nicest cat tree you’ve ever seen.

You sip your hot tea and your body finally relaxes. As you reach to sit it on the coffee table, he politely asks, “I don’t mean to be a square, but can you use a coaster?”

“Of course,” you say, complying with the request. “So, tell me,” you begin, clearing your throat. “How’d I do on my final?” Humming, he stands to rummage through his messenger bag slumped over a dining chair. You gasp, “A ninety-seven?” Thumbing through the pages, you find a single red X on possibly the easiest question you’ve had on an exam since high school: What is the atomic number of oxygen? “Are you kidding me?”

Any attempt to mask your embarrassment is impossible. It only deepens when you look up and catch him already watching you—lips pressed tight, failing miserably to hide a smug, amused smile.

“I, uh…” You scratch the back of your neck. “I got that one wrong on purpose. You know, so as to not raise any suspicion.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, did you now?” You nod. “That was on the exam just so Toby wouldn’t get a zero.” You nod begrudgingly. “And you put 10! That’s not even close. That’s—”

“Neon,” you grumble. “Yeah I know…” you say, avoiding his eyes as he laughs playfully.

“Neon’s a noble gas and oxygen is a—”

“Reactive nonmetal,” you cut him off. “I know, okay?” You shove his shoulder playfully, but your grin betrays you. “It was a high-pressure environment. Sitting in an exam room with your professor watching you."

"I barely looked up from my laptop,” he reminds you.

"Your presence is distracting enough," you shoot back, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Ah, so my intellectual aura threw you off?”

“I dunno…is that what you think, professor?” You ask cheekily. “Maybe it was something else.” You’ve tossed the exam onto the coffee table, moving closer.

“Like what?”

“Just…you. You’re distracting.” You smirk, the words slipping out almost involuntarily, like they’ve been waiting on the tip of your tongue.

Intrigued, he tilts his head and asks, “What about me?” There’s something magnetic in the way he looks at you—like he knows the answer but wants to hear you say it, to savor the way it sounds coming from your lips.

You hum, tracing the lines of his body with your eyes, mapping out uncharted territory before exploring it. You don’t want to move too fast, but every fiber of your being screams for more. He’s not lighting a fire inside you—he’s setting the whole forest ablaze. Sure, your imagination has been running rampant since he returned your feelings six weeks ago, but now that you’re here, he scrambles every thought.

“Your eyes…” you say while yours flick over his face, taking in every curve, every freckle, every lash. “They’re so pretty.”

A smile—small but real—tugs at the corners of his lips. The kind that’s private, meant just for you. His eyes darken as he leans in, the space between you shrinking. You glance down, noticing the way his long fingers curl around the mug handle. There’s something almost hesitant in the way he holds it. You take it from him gently, setting it atop a coaster as quietly as you can.

“Your hands…” you whisper, fingers barely brushing his knuckles, tension coiled under his skin. They’re hands that have worked, experimented, written things down—hands you want on you. Guiding one to your thigh, the squeeze he returns sends a shudder through you.

Everything between you is electric. Your breaths come faster now, more desperate. Every inch you move toward him is a test, a slow-motion collapse of restraint.

“Your legs…” A soft breathless chuckle escapes as you glance down. His lips part like he’s about to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. Boldness surges through you like a current and you hike one leg over both of his, straddling him. The shift is seismic. His hands move to your hips, gripping you, afraid to let go. The heat of his touch spreads through you, anchoring you in place, though it feels like everything around you is spinning.

“And your lips…” you murmur, leaning closer, your breath mingling with his. “Oh my god, those fucking lips.” You can’t stop staring at them, just a breath away now, soft and wet. Your pulse races.

You cup his face, lifting his chin until his eyes meet yours again. His pupils are blown wide, the desire in them unmistakable. Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, and the moment stretches, suspended. You lean in just enough to feel his breath on your lips.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

And he does.

It isn’t tentative—it’s dam-breaking. Like he’s been starving for it, holding back for years. His lips are soft but urgent as his hands tighten around your hips to pull you closer. You taste jasmine tea on his lips, a subtle sweetness mingling with the spice of his cologne—clove, pepper, something dark and addictive.

“Holy shit,” you whisper against his lips. “I can’t believe I had to wait so long to kiss you again.” You kiss him again and he moans sweetly into your mouth. Just as the kiss deepens, he retreats, his breath ragged. “You okay?”

Nervously nodding, he says, “Yeah,” but his eyes flicker away. He tries to kiss you again, but you place your hand on his chest, gently stopping him.

“Wait,” you say, eyes searching his face. “What’s going on? Am I being too—”

“No,” he says, almost a little too urgently. “It’s not that. It’s just…” His hands fall to the couch. Bracing to tell the truth, he squeezes his eyes shut before adding, “I need to tell you something.” You sit back on your heels, still in his lap but giving him room to speak.

“What is it?” You ask softly.

“There’s this thing… I haven’t—uh…” He stumbles over the words, his fingers twitching at his sides.

“Soobin?” you ask, your voice gentle but steady. That’s the first time you’ve called him by his first name. It feels utterly…vulnerable. “Are you a virgin?” The question is delicate. Shutting his eyes again, he takes a deep breath.

“No,” he says. “Well, not exactly.” You narrow your eyes at him. What is that even supposed to mean? “It’s just…it’s been a while. And before then, I hadn’t had a lot of sex. And I haven’t had any…recently.”

“How long?” you encourage, your eyes softening.

“A year.”

You hum softly in acknowledgement, watching his confidence falter. Instead of pulling back, you lean forward, trailing slow, deliberate kisses along his neck. He trembles under your touch, a soft gasp escaping his lips, your hands moving all over his body, claiming him.

“Oh, Professor Choi,” you whisper, your voice dripping with heat and promise. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

As your breath slows, you sit up and let your hand linger over his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. “Tell me,” you start. “What do you like?”

“Um,” he swallows, trying to force the lump down his throat. He’s so hesitant but he finally says, “Touching.”

“You touching my body or me touching yours?”

He exhales shakily. “The first,” he says, confirming with a squeeze to your hips.

You hum against his ear. What are you gonna do with him? Tease him forever? Let him have his way with you? You ask, “Why don’t you take my shirt off for me?”

Gracing his hands over your arms, he grounds himself again before asking, “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You nod, guiding his hands to the top button of your blouse, letting him slip it through the buttonhole. One by one, he exposes more of your skin, his heart thumping harder with each passing second. Pushing the silky fabric past your shoulders until your top half is only covered by a bubblegum pink mesh bra, leaving almost nothing to the imagination—except for the red embroidered hearts over your nipples.

After easing the shirt out from your trousers, you reach back to pull at the sleeves, letting the shirt fall to the floor. He slips his finger under one of your bra straps, pulling it to the side, but you stop him. “Wait. It’s your turn.”

Tugging on his tie, you slip it through the collar and unbutton his dress shirt. Seeing his body bare in front of you for the first time, you’re practically drooling. You indulge in running your hands all over his body, lean with subtle muscles, from his chest to the bottom of his abs.

“How come you got to touch me if I didn’t get to touch you?” He asks innocently.

“You’re right,” you chuckle. “I’m sorry.” You smile and sit up to press your palms against his and let your fingers intertwine. Your heart melts and you fear you may throw up. “Did you want to take my bra off first?” He nods. Fumbling fingers reach behind you to snap it off, letting it fall to the couch. As he sees your bare tits, his eyes widen and he lets out the cutest little Oh.

He’s hesitant to do anything. You have to guide his hands to massage your tits—and they’re the perfect size for you.

“You’re so…soft,” he says, looking up at your eyes, like he’s not sure if that was okay to say.

“You like them?” He nods eagerly. Experimentally swiping a thumb across a nipple, it hardens at his touch while you let out a sharp gasp.

“You like that,” he says matter-of-factly. “Can I taste?” Nodding, you lean forward, welcoming his lips. His body finally relaxes as he moans against your skin. Circling the tip of his tongue around your nipple, he’s teasing you. And oh my god do you love it.

One of your hands threads through his hair and you stuff the other down your pants, but he grabs your wrist softly.

“That’s not fair,” he whispers and you concede, keeping your hands to yourself. With one hand, he stuffs your tit back in his mouth while the other plays with your other nipple. His hot, wet mouth on one nipple and his teasing fingers playing with the other sends waves of pleasure through you that may send you over the edge.

If you don’t do something to ease your need, you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to take this. You resort to grinding against his hard cock, making his hips buck.

Lifting your legs off his, you swing around to sit next to him, palming his cock over his trousers. Desperately clawing at the waistband, you unbutton and unzip his pants, encouraging him to kick them off. He stands to slip them off and as you reach for the band of his boxers, he stops you.

“Your turn,” he whispers. And you comply. But not without a show. Standing slowly, you push him to the couch and turn your back to him. As you push your pants down, your ass looks delicious in your thong that matches your bra—mesh bubblegum pink with red trim. When you turn back, he’s fisting himself over his underwear.

“Nuh-uh, that’s not fair,” you say. Returning next to him on the couch, you feel him over his boxers and your mouth waters. Goddamn you can’t wait for him to be inside you. “Do you have any lube?” He nods and shortly returns with a barely used tube.

While he stays standing, you sit up on the couch, running your hands across his muscular thighs and perfect pelvis. Looking up at him, his eyes are bright, darting all over your body like he’s afraid to miss something. He fiddles with his waistband, flipping the elastic over softly. A small smile flicks across your lips before you tug his boxers down his legs, leaving trails of kisses along the way.

Encouraging him to sit down, you look down at his cock, long and hard and dripping with precum. Finally, you drag your fingertips up and down his cock before squeezing him. He moans like you’ve never heard a man moan before. Laying your head on his shoulder, you sprinkle kisses all over his skin, finding a spot behind his ear that makes him squirm.

He hisses and—almost involuntarily—wraps one of his hands around yours to use his long fingers to guide your hand up and down. There’s something magical about someone with so little experience telling—no, showing—you what to do with his body. It’s electrifying. He hasn’t been touched in so long that he’s desperate to get off and can’t waste time with words. But no words need to be shared. His movements tell you what speed he likes.

Snaking his other arm around you, he stuffs his fingers in your hair and clenches his fist, subconsciously tugging the strands. His lips are right against your ear, breathing rapidly and heavily and he can hardly take it anymore. You watch his chest rise and fall as he clenches your hair, moaning getting quicker, he squeaks and whines.

Hurriedly pressing his lips to your temple, you can’t take your eyes off his cock as he shoots short spurts of cum all over his stomach. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath before he gives you a sweet smile.

You don’t let up with kisses all over his body. Sprinkling kisses here and there while he cleans himself up with a hand towel he’d brought with him when he got the lube from his bedroom. Once he’s clean, he slouches down the couch.

“Will you sit on my face?” His eyes are ever so sweet and innocent, like he’s finally able to test all his fantasies. “Please…” You hum like you’re only considering it, but we all know you’ll say yes. “Please, mommy?” Everything halts.

“Mommy?”

“F-fuck—” he sits up, ears turning redder than you’ve ever seen them—anyone’s ears for that matter. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first—”

“No, no…” you say gently, cupping his jaw to make him look at you. You can’t help yourself—you press your lips to his again and you lose yourself in his intoxicating kiss. But you break it and say, “Keep calling me that.”

“M-mommy?” You hum. Before you give him what he asked for, you shove your tit in front of his lips. He doesn’t need to be told what to do. His plush lips wrap around your hard nipple while he thumbs the other. It feels like fucking heaven.

“That’s my good boy.” He lets out the most pathetic whimper you’ve ever heard in your goddamn life. His eyebrows furrow, looking up at you through his lashes. “Are you my good boy?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly. “Yes, mommy. Of course.”

“Soobin,” you breathe in disbelief, dropping your head back. “You’re so sexy, I swear to god.”

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head. “That’s you.” He smiles. “Will you please sit on my face now?” He slouches down again without waiting for an answer. “Please.” You hike your leg up to rest your foot against the back of the couch, gently hovering over him. But he wraps his hands around your hips to yank you down. As he flicks his tongue over your clit, you might be embarrassed by the volume of your moan, but there’d be no reason to.

“I thought you said you didn’t do this a lot?”

“Well,” he takes a deep breath. “This was always what I was best at.” You chuckle. “Wait, no—” he shakes his head. “I’m good at the other stuff too. I hope.” Returning his tongue to your clit, you gasp and fall forward, bracing yourself against the back of the couch. He seizes the opportunity to get fully entranced in your taste.

There's an impossible contrast—your body melts, muscles soft and pliant as you surrender to the pleasure but, at the same time, goosebumps prickle along your skin, sharp and electric. Warmth and vulnerability layered with a thrill that leaves you shivering, somehow both at ease and on edge.

But then he snakes his hand behind your ass to tease your asshole with his pinky. And it's overwhelming. Your knees are so weak you can hardly hold yourself up. The way his hands feel on your body, touching you in all the right places, flicking his tongue perfectly, moaning so temptingly along with the built up tension—it is so much. So. Fucking. Much.

It builds in your stomach—teetering on the edge and god you only hope he doesn’t stop what he’s doing. But you can’t form words to tell him that. But he knows.

And then it happens.

You feel like you’re floating—or falling may be more accurate—as your orgasm washes over you, thighs quite literally quivering around his face as you come undone on top of him. For him. Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you roll and plop to the couch and he sloppily replaces his tongue with his fingers. You make a mental note to show him exactly where your clit is later. How is it that he found it so easily with his tongue but missed it with his hand? You guess he was right—oral is what he’s best at. Your chest heaves with your deep breaths as you come down from your high, watching him smirk at you.

“Oh my god,” you say breathlessly. There’s a beat of silence. “What the fuck?”

“What?” He chuckles.

“I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I told you I’m good at it.”

“Where’s your bedroom? This couch is too small for what we’re about to do.”

Once he shuts his bedroom door to keep Molly out, he pulls you by your waist to press his bare body to yours and kisses you again so romantically it takes your breath away.

“Wow,” he whispers against your lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” You go straight back in for more kisses. But you break it— “But not literally, though. Please keep saying stuff like that.” You giggle together, slowly falling toward the bed until you’re gently laid on your back and he’s over top of you.

“Can I, like, kiss all over your body?”

“Of course,” you say. “You don’t need to ask.”

And then he does exactly what he wants. Starting at your lips, he moves to the corner of your mouth, trailing behind your ear and down your neck. The way his breath tickles your neck sends shivers down your spine and you need more, more, more.

As you lay there, simply basking in the feeling of him taking his time exploring every inch of you with the softest lips you’ve ever felt, you can’t help but be giddy. He’s tentative in some areas and eager in others. After he kisses the sensitive skin under your breast, he carefully observes your reaction. When he delicately presses his lips to your pelvis, his eyes flutter up to yours nervously.

“Soobin,” you say breathlessly. He hums against your tummy, shaky hands running up your thighs. “I need you please.”

“You need me?” You nod. “Where do you need me, mommy?” You groan, arching your back, not even knowing where to start. You need him everywhere.

“Inside me,” you say. “Please, I’ve been thinking about it for so long.”

“Have you?” He asks innocently, using his fingers to play with the folds of your pussy so casually, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. “I should be the impatient one.” But you know why he’s taking it so slow. He’s nervous as hell right now.

Aligning his cock with your entrance, he slowly pushes himself inside you. And it's utterly exhilarating. For both of you. He falls forward, framing your face with his forearms, digging his nose into your neck.

“Fuck…” He whispers shakily. Your nails drag down his back at his inexperienced hip rolls. “Oh my god, what are you doing to me?” Despite his inevitable desperation, his thrusts are controlled. He’s trying his very best at least. But his cock is so fucking perfect, you figure he’d make you feel good no matter what he does. Although, a little part of you thinks about how good he’ll be at fucking you in a few months after a little practice. Or lots of practice.

He whispers swears, your name, and mommy…over and over again. Then he sits up, looking down at your body. Awkwardly fumbling as if he wants to say something, his mouth isn’t cooperating with his brain. He slowly comes to a stop, sliding out of you and barely touches your calf.

“Can you, uh…would you mind, um—”

"Do you wish to see me on my knees? Is that it, darling?"

“Yes, mommy…please, I’ve never—”

“You’ve never had someone on their knees for you?” You ask and he silently shakes his head. “You’ve been such a good boy for me. Of course I’ll get on my knees for you.” You oblige to his request, turning yourself around and arching your back to give him a perfect view of your ass. He groans at the simple sight of your body. He swipes his hands over the swell of your ass, squeezing here and there.

He clears his throat and asks, “What do I do?”

“Oh,” you chuckle lightly. “Just get on your knees and guide yourself in. Make sure it’s the right hole,” you say light-heartedly, trying to ease the tension a bit.

But when he’s finally inside you again, it’s heaven. And he indulges in himself a bit—thrusting faster, harder, making your ass jiggle. The lewd sounds of his cock in your wetness and his hips smacking your skin makes it all the more erotic. But it doesn’t take long before—

“I like it better the other way, I think,” he says matter-of-factly. “Is that okay?”

“Of course that’s okay, babe,” you say, flipping back over and spreading your legs. And he slides right back inside you, letting his head fall back. But your tits bouncing are simply too tempting not to look at. They’re why he prefers it this way, so why not look at them as much as he can? He retreats a bit, opening his mouth like he wants to ask you something but he’s too shy.

“What is it, baby?”

“I was just wondering if you…if you could—would you want to be on top?” His tone is genuinely sweet. “Like what position do you like?”

“Missionary’s my favorite too,” you say. “But I would, hm, I would really like to be on top for a bit.” Switching quickly, you align yourself over his cock and sink down on him so, so, so slowly, letting out a big sigh of relief. “Oh my god, Soobin. Are you fucking kidding me?” You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. The feeling stretches all the way to your toes. “I need to hump you like crazy for a bit,” you say with a chuckle. He nods like that’s perfectly fine with me, mommy.

And you do exactly that—bounce on his cock as fast as your body lets you, relieving that built-up tension. Over the last few months, you wanted to jump his bones every time you were in the same room and that feeling never let up, like there was a tension thermometer in your body that was constantly stuck at boiling.

But perhaps it was a bit more painful for him because an occasional rut up into you isn’t enough anymore. He holds your hips to keep you in place, fucking up into you as fast as he can. Head dropping back, he groans, your name leaving his lips.

“Mommy?” His eyebrows furrow, looking utterly pathetic. “Let’s switch back. Please.” Hiking your leg over his hips, you land roughly on your back. Gently grabbing your hands, he pins them above your head, aligns his cock at your entrance, and slides inside you, rolling his hips so deliciously. As he kisses you, he swallows your moans. Trailing down your neck, he whispers, “Please tell me I’m making you feel good, Mommy.”

Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you say, “Fuck, you’re making me feel so good.”

Slowing his thrusts, he asks, “What else would you like me to do?” Smiling up at him, you rub his thighs. Waiting for an answer, he covers your collarbone in kisses, making his way back to your ear. After nibbling gently on your earlobe, he whispers, “Tell me how to make you feel even better.” Oof. Shivers.

“Rub my clit,” you say. He sits up, fumbling with his fingers. “Use your thumb,” you giggle. “Wait.” Reaching for his hand, you let spit pool in your mouth before wrapping your lips around his thumb. Sucking on it, he looks at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Then he follows your instructions, rubbing your clit with his thumb while he fucks you, listening intently to every instruction, every a little to the lefts, up a little bit mores, and he never gets impatient.

Your back arches impossibly high and you say, “I’m close, babe. Don’t stop.” You rub your own nipple, but he moves your hand out of the way, wetting his thumb with his own spit before circling it for you.

Everything has been building to this moment. Staring at him in every lecture, longing for his touch. That kiss in his office was just the start of your addiction. Attending his office hours didn’t help, but you couldn’t stay away. You needed to be closer to him. To feel heat radiating off his body. To smell his spicy cologne. To watch his fingers wrap around his pen and wish they were wrapped around something else.

All of it was for this moment right here. Cumming around his cock for the first time. You can’t wait any longer. There’s a white hot burning in your belly that’s getting more furious by the second. His name leaves your mouth in a yelp before fireworks explode inside you.

Your legs shake around his waist as he fucks you through it, not changing a single thing. Overwhelmed with pleasure, you grab his wrist to stop him from rubbing your nipple to make sure it’s the most perfect orgasm you’ve ever had—not too much and not too little.

And it’s neither. Instead, it’s perfection. You knew it would be. It seems to last forever but somehow not long enough. As soon as you finish, you miss it.

Catching your breath, your vision clears up as you look up at him with a smile. He shyly asks, “How was that?”

You take a deep breath and say, “Oh my god, that was so good.” Rubbing soothing strokes up and down your thighs, you can tell he’s getting impatient. But still—he’d never pressure you in a million years.

Bending to kiss your neck again, he whispers, “Can I cum inside you?” You nod frantically.

“Please.”

“I have condoms if you want.” You think about it for a second. Really. You would love nothing more than to feel him fill you up. But it’s risky. “Mommy…” His hips slowly start moving again, encouraging a decision from you. “What are you thinking?”

“Cum inside me, please. Wanna feel all of you,” you say, rubbing his back. He smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss that sends your head reeling. He sits up and squeezes your thighs over and over, adoring the way your body feels in his hands. Soft and squishy and intoxicating. Licking your own thumb, you pinch and rub one of his nipples, making his mouth drop open. He didn’t even think of having his own nipples played with.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” he gasps. You praise him, Cum inside me, baby. You’ve been such a good boy for me. I want you to feel so good for me, okay? And he’s rutting his hips into you roughly, using your body for his own pleasure. You simply can’t get enough. You want him inside you forever and ever. “You’re…” he trails off. “You’re gonna make me cum, Mommy.”

“Go ahead. Cum for me.” Like it’s a command, his hips stutter and his cum fills you up, warm and sweet and heavenly. Swears and other inaudible words you hope are compliments spill out of his mouth. Falling forward, he digs his face into your neck once more, twitching until he comes to a stop, taking deep breaths.

You expect a warm smile to echo his warm cum filling you up but he stays put. In fact, he doesn’t move or say anything for quite some time. So much time passes that his cock has slipped out of you on its own, his cum leaking down the swell of your ass.

You finally break the silence, “Are you okay?” He nods awkwardly. “Look at me.” He shakes his head. “What’s wrong?” He still won’t budge. “Soobin, what’s going on?”

“I’m embarrassed,” he whines.

“Huh? About what?”

“Calling you mommy,” he finally sits up. “I was just caught up in the moment—I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

“Honey,” you giggle, sitting up with him. “I told you I liked it.”

“You weren’t just saying that?”

“I don’t think I would’ve came that hard if I didn’t like it.”

His eyes brighten before adding, “I guess so.” It genuinely was one of the strongest orgasms you’ve ever had. Surely, he has to know that, right? But wait—

“Was it good for you?”

“Oh my god,” he’s finally relaxed a little, peppering your face with kisses. “That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had, I swear.” He stands, walking into his en-suite to get you a towel, damp with warm water. “So…” he starts awkwardly. “Should we, like, report this to the dean?”

“Is that your way of asking me to be exclusive?” He blushes as you brush some of his hair behind his ear. “Because my answer is absolutely.” You press your lips together. “Although, can we hold off for a while? Just until next semester starts?”

“Be in our own little world for a bit?” He smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’re taking a break until next semester, right? Are you working right now?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I got a bunch of scholarships to pay for school,” you say proudly.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Because I’m the smartest person you know,” you say cheekily.

“No lectures until next semester, so I’m pretty much free.” He smiles, clearly wanting to say something more, but bites his tongue. “Can I ask you something?” You nod. “This may be moving way too fast, but do you maybe wanna spend the holidays here? With me?”

The next few weeks are a whirlwind. Both of you admit it’s too fast. But neither of you care. The fireplace roars as you decorate his Christmas tree together, wrapped presents, baked cookies, everything you could think of that ooey-gooey couples do.

And of course, nightly sex is a bonus. You simply can’t get enough of each other. And you just about lose it when you walk into the kitchen on Christmas morning. He’s standing at the counter wearing a Santa hat, flannel pajama pants, and a black tank top making your favorite tea.

“Ah, there she is! Good morning,” he says with a smile. You take a plate full of chocolate chip waffles from him. But not before he kisses you. Cupping your cheek, he pulls you into perhaps the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had. You can feel his smile on your lips.

And everything feels absolutely perfect. You think you may be dreaming, but he feels so very real at this moment. And his voice is clear as day, “Merry Christmas.”

#hp's writing 🪲#soobin smut #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #choi soobin #chubby reader #soobin x reader #soobin ff #soobin fic #soobin fanfic #soobin x chubby reader #kpop ff #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #kpop smut

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jeanbie · 10 months ago

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Omg hi I don’t know if you take nsfw requests but I was wondering about aot’s favorite positions🥺 your writing is so so good!!

honestly.....i thought this was hard !!! i can't see any of them being overly picky on positions or even having all time favs; over the eras of aot, they all change so much it's actually hard to say...so i tried my best to think semi-objectively :3 absolutely feel free to disagree with ANY of these, everyone has diff interpretations (and i love all of em)

warnings: fem!reader (sorry), sexual content ofc, if u want the girl vers lemme know :D

AOT BOYS & FAV POSITIONS ★ masterlist.

MISSIONARY

“you look so fucking pretty right now—” is the only thing they can think of saying as they bow their chest over yours, watching your face twist as their cock sinks deeper into your cunt. one of your legs is wrapped firmly around their waist or hanging up over their shoulder; this way, they can watch you writhe and whimper whilst also watching the way you suck them up nicely, the way your body tenses and flinches with every thrust they give...

— jean, zeke, niccolo

RIDING

there is no greater joy than leaning back and watching you do your thing. their hands are on your waist, smoothing around your hips and stomach in an effort to distract themselves from simply filling you up and going wild — they love to watch you sinking down on them, your back arched and breasts rising with every rise and fall. they meet your hips by raising their own, finding pleasure in watching your face pull into contorted shapes, hearing the moans and whimpers from your mouth. from down here, they like the control they can have, and on occasion, the submission of doing whatever you tell them to

— levi, armin, porco

BENT OVER

if they can bend you over it, they can fuck you on it. tables, beds, tree trunks, fences, desks, sinks — it’s like they’re trying to fuck you on every possible or available surface they can find. they just love to see the sight of your ass tilted up, hips pressing into a hard surface, legs spread in a desperate attempt to stay upright, all while they drive themselves into you however fast or hard they want to. they can be as gentle or as rough as they want to be; running their hands up your back and between your shoulder blades, or smacking your ass and pulling your hair — everything about fucking you from behind is perfect for them, and by the sounds of things, perfect for you

— eren, floch

[bonus] s4!eren loves to fuck you over a sink or a vanity, anywhere he can pull you back by your hair and make you watch in the mirror. his eyes never leave yours through the glass, his lips whispering the dirtiest things he can possibly think of just to get you to cum around him, to watch yourself unravel in his hands

RIDING THEIR FACE

they are a seat. that’s all they are, all they ever want to be — a seat for their perfect partner. they could spend hours with their tongue up your cunt, hands pressed into your ass or hips as you ride the features on their face. they would happily die of suffocation down here, just as long as you were happy and they got to taste their favourite thing in the world

— connie, onyankopon

GIVING THEM A BLOWJOB

every position is good with their partner, but absolutely nothing beats you on your knees between their legs, their cock in your mouth. a hand in your hair, on your cheek or the back of your neck, they love to watch you take care of them, especially after a particularly long and otherwise bad day. whether it’s simply between their legs as they sit, or as they lie down before bed — or under a desk when there are other people around, nothing will ever top the feeling of your mouth running itself up their dick, or how warm and wet it feels as you take them.

— ERWIN, bertolt

REVERSE COWGIRL

“comfy, darlin?” with their hands on your hips, they love to help you sink down onto them, using your hips as handles to bring you up and down at whatever pace they fancy. they just love the sight of your face turning back to him with a pleasured look, the muscles in your back tensing whenever he hits that perfect spot up your pussy. seeing you looking like this makes him feel so proud — you’re taking him like its no problem, your ass bouncing on his stomach, toes curling as you set your hands on his legs for balance. he’ll let you take control until you tire, and then the fun can really begin

— reiner, kenny (help)

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oristian · 2 months ago

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@officialfeysandweek DAY FIVE — FATED

“I’d been painting out that nightmare for nearly two hours, my back to the door, when Rhys entered. He remained utterly silent. It wasn’t the contented silence he sometimes fell into while he observed me painting. It was pure, shocked silence.

I’d twisted to look at him just in time to see him crash to his knees.

And then he’d been weeping, and laughing, and all I could make out in his ecstatic babbling was one word: baby. I’d leaped off the stool. I was weeping too by the time I launched into his arms, knocking us both to the ground, and he’d put a hand to my stomach in wonder.”

— ACOSF Feysand bonus chapter

Fate is a hungry, lonely girl hunting in the middle of the winter forest, eye-to-eye with a wolf. Fate is a song slipping into a cell deep under a mountain. Fate is a little boy with blue eyes in a prison. Fate is the tug of a bond that connects two souls, and the promise of forever.

ART CREDIT dudledudlesss

COMMISSIONED BY @oristian

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST

ALSO FOUND ON INSTAGRAM (HERE)

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minniesmutt · 6 months ago

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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐬𝐤𝐳 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: OT8 X READER (SEPERATE) ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: SEX MENTIONS ☾ ━━━ WC: 0.5K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍

♡ he feels bad he pissed you off, not much about you taking away sex.

♡ he understands why you did but he’s going to try and make up for it

♡ comes home on time or earlier with flowers every day so your house looks like a florist; he brings home dinner so you don’t have to cook.

♡ he’s trying to make up for pissing you off. If he gets sex back it’s a bonus

♡ He just doesn’t want you to be bad at him

☾ ━━━━━━𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖

♡ he does not believe you when you tell him no more sex

♡ tries to seduce you not even an hour later

♡ asks if you are actually serious and is just shocked when you tell him you are.

♡ cooks dinner for the next week and cleans the house in hopes of getting back on your good side.

♡ eventually, he does but you have to hold out longer than a week just to see how desperate he gets

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍

♡ Like Chan, more upset he made you mad than anything

♡ tries acting all cute in hoping you’ll forgive him. Then sexy if that doesn’t work

♡ The last resort is literally getting on his knees in front of you and apologizing

♡ you still make him go a week without sex but he’s forgiven mostly

♡ pouncing on you the second it turns midnight a week later

☾ ━━━━━━𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍

♡ kinda in shock? Like, didn’t expect you to take sex away from him

♡ understands though, and doesn’t push. He knows he messed up

♡ suffers the consequences of his own actions

♡ praising the hell out of and worshipping you once you tell him his no sex punishment is over

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐇𝐀𝐍

♡ pouty boy.

♡ he was just fucking around and ended up finding out

♡ apologizing for days on end. He knows it’s just a week but that’s too long!

♡ doesn’t try and push it too much in case you get mad at him and make it another week

☾ ━━━━━━𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗

♡ understands where he went wrong and accepts the punishment and apologizes.

♡ sweetest boy for the whole week, just cuddles and kisses. Makes you your own batch of brownies

♡ he’s so hard to stay mad at that you tell him you’re cutting it short

♡ rejects it and says he’s serving the week long no sex punishment

♡ kinda finds it cute when you’re all pouty bc you just wanna jump his bones.

♡ agrees to help you get off though. Guided masturbation with that voice makes brian go brrrr

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍

♡ like lee know, just doesn’t believe you.

♡ pure shock when you tell him you’re serious

♡ apologizing for the whole week while your lowkey laughing at him

♡ fucks the smirk off your face once that week is up

☾ ━━━━━━𝐈.𝐍

♡ in shock but thinks he can do it.

♡ he can’t. He needs you

♡ consistently apologizing for making you mad and that it won’t happen again

♡ gets pouty when he realizes it isn’t working and your intent on making him ride out this punishment

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

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bitchfitch · 3 months ago

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My mother's bf had a fairly major surgery (he's fine and recovering well DW) and he's going to be housebound for his birthday this year, so I've been enlisted to come up with a fancy birthday meal for the special birthday boy that's primarily fruit and veg, sweeter than savory, and is something he's never had before.

Bc I'm making watermelington. It's beef Wellington, but watermelon. bc my mom only found out recently you can use watermelon as a tuna substitute. And I know that you can substitute most higher quality beef cuts with tuna or salmon.... usually. Anyways the idea fascinates her so I'm hoping to use that for bonus points.

Now he's off his ass on pain killers so I can't like. Ask him if he's ever had something before. so to meet my brief I've decided to just. commit a novel hate crime against the British I guess.

Anyways. I'm writing this because I need to walk myself through this process and think it'll be surreal enough to be worth taking y'all along for.

So, Beef Wellington. In its most basic bitch arrangement is a beef tenderloin wrapped in prosciutto/really thin bacon, with a layer of mushroom and onion mush, that has been further wrapped in mustard slathered puff pastry.

We will be ship of Theseusing this. bc beef Wellington is like. the opposite of what he wants. Which is why it's funny.

Puff pastry-> it's still just puff pastry

this one doesn't have to change (aka I can't be fucked to do pastry prep and I'm just gonna use store bought it's Fine.)

the prosciutto is also just going to be prosciutto.

Thin meat

Beef tenderloin-> watermelon,

Tbh this is a pretty 1 to 1 substitution. I'll bake the slices at like. 250-300 for an hour or so ahead of the rest of prep to dry it out a bit. bc you can't like. Sear watermelon to seal in the water like you can beef. By definition it's a very wet fruit (like me when I fall into the lake). Ill Add salt and chili and lime juice while baking maybe. this is the easy part

The mushroom mush-> salsa done bad style

As the word mush implies, this is meant to be a very soft mix. It adds a lot of nuttiness to the wellington that rounds out all of the salt from the meats. I'm replacing it with white person salsa(the birthday boy can't handle spice). Tomato, lime juice, parsley, avocado, cucumber, feta, and maybe mango so I can have an excuse to have a lil mango treat. I said I wasn't making it spicy. I'm still putting a bit of chili in it. bc it'll be better like that. This is also a ridiculously wet bit of mush, Even the original mushrooms have too much water. I'll figure something out.

Mustard -> jelly

He lives in a big city. those preserve sections are massive. I'll find a weird one. maybe apricot.

Prep:

We're in the mind palace kitchen, I have not attempted any of this. We're just thinking real hard about it and I'll edit as needed on the day and post results.

The watermelon

Preheat oven to eh. 300f? We want low and slow to dry things out without it taking a year. but idk what his oven is like. If it's gentle I'll bump it up another ten-twenty.

Slather some watermelon slices in salt chili powder and lime juice mixture.

bake for 30 min on a wire rack or directly on the oven racks (after cleaning thoroughly) if he doesn't have a wire rack. with a drip try underneath to catch the drippage. check frequently. Have one slice that's for being poked to see if it's approaching being meat. Bake longer if needed.

Salsa bad style

chop everything up and add it to a pan with some oil in it. Tbh I don't think the type of oil you use for cooking matters if you're not like, getting near any smoke points. Most people can't tell the difference unless you made your food bland as hell.

Anyways there's some wildly different moisture contents on the list so there has to be an Order to cook off as much water as possible without getting yucky.

Tomatoes and cucumbers go in together with some salt to get the cucs softening, then the mango chunks and lime juice. Once most of the water is gone the avocado feta and parsley can go in. There is a good amount of water in avocados but they're delicate and don't pan fry well, so we're just going to ignore their water crimes and hope for the best. They just need to be evenly mixed through the rest of the mush.

Putting it together

lay out the puff pastry, cut into sections to wrap each watermelon slice individually with.

Slather in jam

Take the prosciutto and lay it out on half of each section of the pastry,

spoon the salsa onto that

Melon

Another layer of salsa

another layer of thin meat

Fold the pastry over the top and pinch the edges bc watermelon slices are not a rollable shape and I don't want to carve a watermelon into a tube for this because that sounds irritating.

Brush with egg wash and more parsley

Cook in oven following the pastry's preferred temp and time. it's fucking watermelon, you're not getting ecoli from it.

watermelington :)

I'm serving it with baked sweet potatoes and spinach based salad with whatever toppings are left over from making the salsa.

anyways thank you for joing me on this thought experiment. I will post updates once the deed is done. I'm sorry to every British person ever.

#you can substitute tuna/salmon for beef in anything that isnt like. getting mixed.#so whole steaks and .... its basically just whole steaks. I guess substitute isnt the right word #You can fuck up a salmon or tuna cut by cooking it like beef instead of cooking it like fish

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zepskies · 1 month ago

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Just saw a TikTok where a woman says that her husband uses the dyson air wrap he brought for his wife more than her, why can I see Ben also acting like that 🤣

Lmfao oh, anon. That's really funny to imagine. 😂

I feel like Soldier Boy (Ben)'s been surrounded by hair stylists for most of his life, so might not be as well versed in managing his own hair. But he absolutely would be one to shave for himself, since that's more of a right of passage for men, especially one of his time.

However, when his S.O./girlfriend/wife comes into the picture, he'd probably start to get used to at least figuring out how to style his own hair at home... That's where the Dyson hairdryer comes in. 🤣

Imagine Soldier Boy (Ben) Using Your Hairdryer:

At first, Ben's intrigued and bewildered looking at this "stupid fucking thing," trying to figure out how it works with all these weird attachments.

Muttering to himself, "Looks like one of her dildos, for Christ's sake."

That thought might make him hesitate on actually trying it out, but when he finally manages to switch it on, it's like a lightbulb goes off above his head. Something inside him has just gotta try this thing.

He doesn't dare experiment while you're at home though. He's going to wait until you're out of the house, for at least a few hours.

He's going to try and fail a few times to actually do what he wants to do with his hair (a simple blow-dry). But eventually, "Ha!" He's done it.

You notice something different about him when you get home. You squint your eyes at him, looking at the gentle, downright shiny swoop of his hair to match his well-trimmed beard.

"Did you..." you trail off.

He raises his brows, feigning ignorance. "What?"

"...Never mind," you say, but you do tell him he looks handsome today.

Of course, his vain ass smirks in a way that says, I look handsome every damn day. (You roll your eyes in amusement.)

You do eventually catch him using your hairdryer. He's humming while he grooms himself in the bathroom, expertly maneuvering the various attachments as he sees fit.

It's the biggest struggle of your life to contain your shock (and laughter). You're torn between leaving him be to practice some healthy self-care...and your instinct to sneak a pic or two. Maybe even a quick video that you might just send to Annie and the rest of the boys later.

That's when Ben catches sight of you in the mirror. His look of concentration melts into a surly, frowning mixture of surprise and embarrassment. He switches off the hairdryer and lays it down on the counter. For a moment, he just stands there, knowing he's caught, bracing himself for your teasing.

Biting your lip, you go over to him and raise up on your toes, leaning one hand on his shoulder so you can sift your fingers through the soft brown strands of his hair.

You smile. "Looks good, babe. Good job."

Slowly, his lips form a familiar cocky smile.

"Damn right, it does."

AN: LOL I didn't intend for this to be a full-on headcanon/imagine, but that's basically what happened. 😂

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lewdimagines · 8 months ago

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𝓞𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄 (18+)

pairings : jake kim x reader, gitae kim x reader

content warning ⚠️: nsfw head canons. . .

JAKE KIM :

he definitely is nice and romantic.. the way he gives off lover boy is so mbejwgsjeh 😍😍, he is the type man to caress you and lead you while slowly but harshly pounding into your hole and whispering soft praises in your ear.. calling you his good (boy/girl) and how your taking his cock so well

he kinda gives off like prob..8 inches def a shower not a grower 🎀 he definitely has top 5 prettiest cocks but his cum is prob not as tasty as others since he mainly eats like ramen n stuff..please give this boy some fruits and a correct diet 😭‼️.

bonus…

jake had you in a big spoon position..its been like this for minutes probably hours even! You couldn’t keep up with this mans stamina not knowing how much times you had even came around his girthy cock, as he hit your sweet spots with every thrust forcing loud moans from your vocal cords “ please..jakee feels too much its too much baby~! “ he would kiss your tears rolling down your face as his thrust sped up slightly making you squeal out in overstimulation pulling out another orgasm from you “ shh..just take my cock pretty thats all im askin you to do baby. “

GITAE KIM :

THE TOTAL OPPOSITE FROM JAKE

js mean and rough :(( never gives you a break esp if you guys are dating/married he just wants to be in your hole all the time, how else is he gonna relieve his stress anywhere else? Its hard managing a cartel and being so hot, he is such and i mean SUCH a red flag

Soon as you say no to him he will throw a big fit making no other choice for him to fuck your throat and degrade you in how stupid you are and how you dont even compare to those street common whores.

9 inches. YEA HE IS BIGGER THAN JAKE AND SO WHAT 🤬🤬‼️ He is a grower at first you’d be relieved on how he is a average length..but as soon as you start gridding your hips on his lap at the club he is dealing at you felt something way more than average against the fat of your cheeks. ( he is a ass man )

he only is romantic when youre dating him!! If you’re js some night stand he is gonna be rough and aggressive to you all night not even giving you a break.

bonus. . .

“ GITAE- SHIT! “ your screams and moans would bounce off the club restroom his hands bouncing you back on his cock, plunging his hips into yours making wet slapping noises “ maybe if you..didnt tightened the fuck up this would be fuckin easier, right? “ he said his tone being menacing and rude your walls tightening up on his walls as you squealed out more your hands gripping on the bathroom sink. Your legs quivering as the tip of his cock kept hitting your g spot. “ PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE “ your begging would fall deaf on his ears as he roughened up his thrusts pulling you back by your hair “ let me see that fuckin face yea? “ you could only nod bring to dumb to know what to say as your legs quivered pulling out an orgasm from you

#gitae kim #jake kim #lookism x reader #lookism #smut #lookism smut

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thatlotuscookie · 1 month ago

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Hihi!! I got a silly lil request if u wanna write it =3

Soooo since Kenma from Haikyuu is prob very rich in timeskip, would u consider writing something where y/n is like “Hey honey I want Burger King” and Kenma misunderstands and buys the whole BK company and y/n has to make Kenma return it XD(bonus if the internet finds out and memes it or something)

✧･ﾟ: a/n: : Kenma’s lowkey chaos energy combined with his wealth and your grounded perspective made this such a fun dynamic to write. I hope you enjoy<3 thank you for the req

✧ Title: ✧ Burger King of My Heart ✧ ✧ Characters: Kenma Kozume x Reader (Gender Neutral) ✧ Genre: Humor, Fluff, Established Relationship ✧ Rating: G ✧ Summary: When you casually ask Kenma for Burger King, you never imagined he’d take it literally—and buy the entire franchise. ✧ Content/Tags: Kenma Being Kenma, Rich Boy Hijinks, Social Media Memes, Established Relationship, Reader in Disbelief, Humor with a Dash of Fluff ✧ WC: 713 words // 4.1k chars

Life with Kenma Kozume was anything but ordinary. Between his highly successful gaming company and the residual fame from his pro volleyball days, he had wealth, influence, and a surprisingly practical approach to everything—well, usually.

Today, however, was shaping up to be one for the books.

You were lounging on the couch in Kenma’s sleek, minimalist apartment. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed a perfect view of the city skyline, but your attention was squarely on your grumbling stomach.

Kenma was stationed at his gaming setup nearby, wearing noise-canceling headphones and entirely focused on whatever strategy game he was playing. You admired how cute he looked when he was concentrating, but hunger had made you restless.

“Kenmaaaa,” you called, dragging his name out dramatically.

“Hm?” he mumbled, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“I want BK,” you said, your words tumbling out lazily.

Kenma finally glanced over his shoulder, his golden eyes meeting yours. “BK?”

“Yeah, Burger King,” you clarified. “I’m starving. I need greasy fries and a Whopper, stat.”

He nodded once, a small, thoughtful “hm” escaping his lips before he turned back to his game. You figured he’d order delivery or suggest driving out to grab food later.

But Kenma Kozume, former volleyball star turned tech genius, never did things the way anyone else would.

About two hours later, Kenma wandered back into the living room, phone in hand. You’d half-dozed off in your hunger-induced haze, but his calm voice brought you back to reality.

“So, it’s done,” he said.

“Huh?” You blinked, sitting up. “What’s done?”

“I bought it.”

Your brain, still foggy from your nap, struggled to catch up. “Bought what?”

“BK,” he said matter-of-factly.

It took a solid five seconds for his words to register. “Wait. You mean... like the food? Where’s the food?”

Kenma tilted his head slightly, confused by your confusion. “No, the company. Burger King. You said you wanted it.”

The room went silent as you stared at him in disbelief.

“Kenma.”

“Yes?”

“You bought the entire company?”

“Yeah,” he said, as if it were the most logical solution in the world. “It wasn’t that expensive, all things considered.”

You gawked at him, your jaw practically hitting the floor. “I meant I wanted a burger and fries, not to own Burger King!”

Kenma blinked. “Oh. I thought you meant you wanted BK, as in... all of it.”

Your hands flew to your head. “Kenma, do you know how insane that is? You can’t just—wait, does the internet know about this?”

Almost as if on cue, your phone buzzed with a series of notifications. Grabbing it, you saw that #KenmaBuysBK was trending. Social media was already ablaze with memes and commentary.

One post read: “Imagine being rich enough to solve hunger by buying an entire fast-food chain. Kenma Kozume, everybody.”

Another had a photo of Kenma with the caption: “Me: I want fries. Kenma: Here’s your kingdom, Burger Queen.”

You groaned, scrolling through the chaos. “Kenma, this is everywhere!”

He shrugged, his calm demeanor unshaken. “People were going to find out eventually.”

“Kenma, you have to return it.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t need to own Burger King! I just wanted food!”

Kenma sighed, pulling out his phone. “Fine. I’ll call my financial advisor.”

By the next day, Kenma had quietly backed out of the purchase, but the internet wasn’t ready to let the incident go. Memes flooded every platform, and even major news outlets picked up the story.

When you arrived at Kenma’s office later to bring him lunch, his coworkers couldn’t resist teasing you. One of them grinned and said, “So, Burger Queen, what’s for lunch today?”

You rolled your eyes, but even you had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Kenma, as unbothered as ever, simply handed you a small bag when you walked into his office.

“What’s this?” you asked, peeking inside.

“Burger King,” he said with the faintest hint of a smirk.

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Kenma leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. Because in his own unique, overly extravagant way, Kenma always found a way to show you just how much he cared.

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reidmotif · 1 year ago

Text

Double-Booked for the Night

Summary: Reader and Spencer have been double-booked by JJ for a night of babysitting. What happens when the situation brings out some buried feelings from both parties?

Prompt: JJ accidentally double booked a babysitter for Henry. You both end up staying, and after watching the kids all night, he can't help but want you.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut/Fluff

Content Warning: Spencer POV, coworkers to lovers, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, he picks her up, heavy making-out, unprotected sex, shades of breeding

Word Count: 7.7k

In my time at the BAU, I had grown accustomed to the many changes it had brought to my life. I’d been made part of a world where long hours, serial killers, and few hours of sleep were the standard, and despite what anyone had to say about it, I had yet to truly hate my job. There were times where I couldn’t fathom that this was my life, that I was being made to peer into the minds of prolific serial killers at any given day, and expected to come out fine after, but for every negative this job brought, there was always one overwhelming positive.

My team.

If you got me tipsy enough, though, I’d probably end up babbling about the girl I’d come to know in the years I’d been here. (Y/N).

If you got me a little drunker, I’d probably end up whining about how in the aforementioned years I’d been here, we’d never made a move on each other, despite the obvious chemistry. Part of me just wanted to mitigate the tension that had been building for ages, pull her into some darkened hallway and kiss her senseless. Unfortunately, I was aware of the consequences that would come from acting so rashly, and so for both our sakes, I held back.

Thankfully, there were a thousand things to distract me from my crush on the agent, and one of those things was JJ’s adorable son. Apart from being his godfather, my known lack of a relationship among the team caused me to become the resident babysitter for the Jareau-LaMontagne household.

It was always wonderful to lend a helping hand to one of my closest friends at the BAU, and let her and her husband get out of the house once in a while, but it was even more of an added bonus that Henry was absolutely adorable, and had honestly stolen my heart. I’d make my way to JJ and Will’s house, opening the door to be greeted by the blonde boy, who was always equally as excited to see me. I’d grown fond of him, and genuinely looked forward to whatever time we’d end up spending together.

Which is why, when I’d come around to JJ’s house on a Friday night at her request, it was a little staggering to not see a head of blonde hair running to cling to my legs, but rather the coworker that had been plaguing my thoughts everyday for nearly three years at that point. It took me a second to focus on the actual situation at hand, as I was momentarily stunned into silence over how she appeared before me. She looked so casual, her hair loosely strung about, with a big hoodie and yoga pants enveloping her figure. She looked cozy, and warm- a noticeable change from the professional work attire I’d become accustomed to seeing her in. It was nice. And it briefly stopped my brain for a second. It took me about five seconds before I remembered where I was, meeting her confused expression with mine.

“(Y/N)?” I started. “What are you doing here?” I watched her keep the door open, whilst I raised my own eyebrow.

“Babysitting for Henry, what are you..?” She replied, knitting her brows a bit.

“Babysitting for Henry.” I responded, a little incredulously.

“But JJ asked me..?” She started, when I interrupted her.

“Will asked me.” I said, and she nodded knowingly, realizing what had happened.

“They double booked us.” She said, with a chuckle.

God, she was so beautiful when she laughed like that.

“Yeah, they did, didn’t they?” I say, rubbing the back of my neck, a little self consciously with a stupid smile plastered on my face.

I couldn’t help but watch the little crinkle that formed at the sides of her eyes as she smiled affectionately at my remark. She had this way of making my insides turn to goo with a simple look, and at this moment, that was exactly how I was feeling. The way my body reacted to her came about naturally, and it was almost impossible to keep under wraps, even in moments like this. She gave me an adorable grin, laughing with me about the absurdity of the situation.

“I guess I’ll.. go then.” I say with a chuckle, looking down at her. “JJ and Will only need one babysitter, and you’re already here..” I reason, gesturing to her standing at the door.

“Yeah, I.. suppose you’re right.” She says, giving me another one of her small smiles.

“I’ll see you at work then?” I say, a little awkwardly. Her hands twitched as they approached the doorknob, and I could feel it again. The absolute strain that seemed to reside between us. The manner in which her gaze connected with mine. The way she seemed to linger a little too close to me instead of the handle of the door. It was so obvious we were denying what we wanted from each other, and it felt so ridiculous. I could feel myself letting out a breath, stepping away before I did anything stupid, until I heard a barreling of little steps hurtling towards me.

“Uncle Spencer!” Henry cried, pushing past (Y/N), who nearly toppled over as the boy sprang at my legs. I steadied myself by grabbing onto the frame on the door, my smile returning as I reached down to hug him.

“Hey! Henry.” I say, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately and bending down to meet his eye-level. “How are you doing?”

“Auntie (Y/N) was about to put on a movie for us.” Henry says, smiling brightly and already attempting to tug me into the house. “Come watch!”

“Aww, Henry.” I say, giving him a little frown. “I can’t, I’m sorry though.” I say, gently. “You should watch with Auntie (Y/N) though!” I say, smiling and looking up at her from my place on the floor. My gaze softened a bit as I noticed the unmistakable trace of blush on her cheeks, but my attention was quickly turned back to Henry, feeling another tug from him.

“You don’t wanna watch with us?” He says, with the biggest puppy-dog eyes I’d ever seen.

“Henry..” I start with an apologetic tone, about to explain that I really couldn’t impose, even if deep down, I secretly wanted to, if not to spend time with him, but her.

“You can stay, you know?” She interjects from above us, and I look up at her, displaying my confused smile.

“Really?” I say, raising my eyebrows at her, as I stood back up to face her. “You’d be okay with that?” I say, still keeping my eyes locked on hers.

“I mean, I don’t think I’d not take up the offer of more help with him.” She says, chuckling a bit as she crossed her arms and leaned up against the door frame.

I looked at Henry once more, grinning. I asked him, “Would you be okay with that, buddy?”

Henry nodded excitedly, already pulling me into the house with his little hands. “Auntie (Y/N) put on a movie for me.” He continued adorably, a bounce in his step as he guided me to the couch.

I smiled at Henry as he led me to the living room, some children’s movie I didn’t recognize playing on the screen. I could hear (Y/N) following us after closing the front door and as I sat down, she smiled at me again.

“It’s actually kind of a miracle you showed up when you did.” She says to me, a light giggle escaping from her lips. “I had no idea how I was going to get dinner out and watch him at the same time.” She explained, as Henry made his way next to me, getting comfortable.

“Ah, you know.” I say, shrugging and laughing nonchalantly, opening my arms to allow Henry to lean against me. “Always happy to help. Especially if it involves this little guy.” I ruffled his hair and heard a little chuckle against me from the boy, as I kept my eyes on her, flashing her a soft smile.

Henry grinned at that, as he excitedly started talking about the movie that was playing, wildly gesticulating as he attempted to explain what I’d missed since I’d entered the room. I nodded, but out of the corner of my eye I saw (Y/N) enter the kitchen, presumably to prepare Henry’s dinner. I heard and saw her rustling about the kitchen in small flashes, and a small smile graced my face at the sight of her. It was silly, but I rarely got to see this side of her. She looked so calm and laid-back, and it was a welcomed change, one that brought a certain warmth to my chest just from the look of it.

I watched her for a few more moments, before turning my full attention back to Henry. I listened to him, nodding like I totally understood everything he was saying, even if he was talking fifty words a minute and stumbling over his speech every step of the way. Regardless, I loved him. Loved spending time with him, and that was only made better when I saw (Y/N) approach us in the living room, plopping down next to Henry with a plate of lasagna.

“Okay, I know Mommy doesn’t usually let you eat in front of the TV.. so this’ll be our secret, okay?” She said, a playful glint in her eye as she carefully handed the plate to Henry. “But you gotta promise me one thing.”

Henry nodded excitedly. She spoke with mock seriousness to him, pursing her lips and nodding. “You gotta promise me you’re gonna finish everything off your plate, alright?” It wasn’t even a question, as Henry nodded, happily agreeing with her, and digging into the food she’d brought. She sat back, looking satisfied with herself. I couldn’t help but smile to myself at the sight. She was always kind at work, and it wasn’t surprising that she was good with kids, but I never expected her to be this good. She fit into the role naturally, and it sent a feeling of endearment through me as I watched her speak to Henry.

Henry ate quietly between the two of us as I watched the TV, but in actuality my mind was completely focused on her. The softness in her actions towards Henry, the tenderness in her eyes as she dealt with him. It was truly having an effect on me, and in a moment of weakness I allowed myself to get wrapped up in a fantasy involving her, me and a child of our own. It was insane! I’d never even kissed the girl before, but watching her like this made me desperately long for a situation in which we had a family together, a concept I had been yearning for privately, only exacerbated by the wonderful woman in front of me.

It seemed I’d gotten a little too lost in my thoughts, because I felt Henry tugging at my shoulder, and I blinked, realizing he’d been trying to get my attention for a few seconds now. “Uncle Spencer!” He whined, and I looked at him with a stir.

“Ah, sorry Henry! Got really into the movie.” I say, feeling my cheeks heat up a bit as I ran my hands through my hair. “What’s up?”

“Can you help me wash my hands?” He asked, in his little voice, and I laughed a little, nodding.

(Y/N) took his plate from him, smiling at me and mouthing a ‘thanks’, which I returned with a smile of my own and thumbs-up, as I took Henry to the bathroom. I led him there, opening the door and watching from the door frame as he stood on the kiddie-stool, washing his hands for the full, recommended twenty seconds. I’d taught him well. When he finished, he wiped his hands on the hand towel and leapt off the stool, running past me. I rolled my eyes fondly, because as usual, Henry had left the bathroom light and door open. I closed both for him, walking to catch up with him, and before I’d even entered the living room, Henry was sitting on the couch, already back to watching the movie that played in front of him.

I came near him, ruffling his hair. “You all good there, bud?” I asked, and Henry nodded absentmindedly, clearly focused on the TV instead of my words, and I chuckled affectionately at his total and complete disinterest in me, now that he could watch TV uninterrupted.

“You okay if I go help out Auntie (Y/N) in the kitchen real quick? I’ll be right here.” I said, reassuringly, but Henry wasn’t even paying attention, so I smiled and walked towards the kitchen, beckoned by the sight of (Y/N) washing Henry’s dinner dish, her sleeves rolled up and her previously open hair now pinned back.

I approached her and leaned against the counter, smiling a little dumbly as I watched her, until she looked up at me, sending me a confused grin. “What are you smiling about, Reid?” She asked, a playful lilt in her voice as she continued scrubbing away at the dishes.

“Ah, nothing.” I responded, but she looked up, rolling her eyes with amusement.

“You know we’re both profilers, right?” She shot back, raising an eyebrow and smirking at me. “I can tell when you’re not exactly being truthful.” She paused, before taking a second to properly look at me. “Come on, spit it out.”

I took a breath, shrugging and turning my body to face her as she kept her gaze trained on me. “It’s really nothing, I just.. I guess I’m surprised by how good you are with kids.” I say, not trying to let on how much tonight had actually affected me in regards to my feelings about her.

She raised her eyebrows, letting a giggle fall from her lips. “What, you think I’d suck with them or something?” She said, biting her lip a bit and I felt my heart turn a bit at that. Even though I was aware she was joking, I felt the overwhelming need to comfort her, to make my intentions more than clear.

“No, no, (Y/N).” I say, shaking my head and chuckling. “I just meant- you’re so thoughtful at work, of course you’d be good with kids. It’s a no-brainer. But I don’t know, seeing it in front of me was just..” I took a breath, smiling. “This may be totally weird to say, but you’d make a great mom.”

I watched her reaction, fearing I’d maybe crossed a line by saying so, but she smiled shyly, purposely keeping her eyes off me as she asked, “Yeah? You think so?”

I kept my eyes on her, adoringly observing her as I nodded. “Yeah, no. I know so.”

I watched her bite her lip as she kept her view away from mine, and even in the dim lighting of the kitchen, I saw a light blush fill her cheeks. She looked up at me, an innocently amused look on her face.

“Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot.” She responds, starting to dry her hands with a dish towel off the side of the sink. As she reached forward, she shifted herself a bit closer to me and I watched as she rubbed off the water droplets on her skin with the fabric. I could physically hear her swallowing as our proximity to each other was brought closer, and I couldn’t help but watch her lips, slightly red and swollen from biting on them all night. It was a habit of hers I’d noticed since we began working, and tonight, it was driving me fucking crazy. I wondered what it’d feel like to have her lips against mine, to run my tongue over the plumpness of them. I imagined pinning her against the counter right here, kissing her until we both forgot our names and lost our breath in each other. I shakily exhaled at the thought, and at that moment, she looked up at me, and seemingly caught me in the act of staring, except she didn’t move away. We exchanged glances for a beat, and I was beginning to contemplate leaning in, repercussions be damned, but in a twisted turn of fate, we heard a little voice calling out to us in the other room.

“Auntie (Y/N)! Uncle Spencer! The movie’s over!” He called out, starting to run into the kitchen with the remote. (Y/N) laughed nervously, moving away from me to pick up Henry in her arms. I stepped away just as fast, going back to leaning on the counter as I watched her cradle the boy in her arms, and I could physically recognize the feeling of affection filling my body as my eyes were fixed on her. If she noticed, she pretended not to, turning her entire focus on the boy.

“You know what that means, right, Henry?” (Y/N) asked, cooing a bit at the boy. “It’s time for bed, alright? Let’s get you upstairs.”

“Can Uncle Spencer come too?” Henry asked, looking at me. The boy was clearly a little more tired now that it was later in the night, but he was quite clear in his demands. Henry then looked at (Y/N), his eyes big and wide. “Did you know Uncle Spencer can read me a whole story without the book?”

(Y/N) only laughed at that, looking between me and the boy. “Can he now? I guess he’s just going to have to join us for bedtime, right?” She looks at me, raising an eyebrow and I nod, beaming a little coyly.

“Eidetic memory, remember?” I say, smirking at her.

She makes an amused sound at that, nodding knowingly. “How could I forget?”

She sighs softly, still supporting Henry in her arms. “Okay, let’s get you to sleep, bud.” She says, kissing the top of his head,, beginning to walk towards the stairs, looking back at me and motioning for me to follow.

I smiled at the gesture, and again, I could sense my heart yearning for a future in which this was our life. It was ridiculous, and yet as the night progressed, my imagination only continued to go wild with the possibilities of a reality where we were each other’s. I continued to walk with her, until we reached Henry’s room, which she slowly turned the knob to. She walked in, keeping the door open for me as I trailed behind her, closing the door. She laid Henry down in the bed, looking at me.

She ran her hands down her thighs, beaming gently at me through the low light of Henry’s bedroom. “I’ll.. um. I’ll leave you here with him?” She asked, keeping her voice low. I felt a moment of disappointment flash through me, secretly wishing she’d stay, for us to spend more time in this bubble we’d created for ourselves tonight. I know I wasn’t crazy, I know that she had to feel it too. But, at the risk of seeming clingy, I nodded, permitting her to leave the room. But a little voice protested, sitting straight up in his bed and tugging at her hand back to him.

“No, no!” Henry whined. “I want Auntie (Y/N) and Uncle Spencer here.”

I could hear her pause, before looking at me with a subtle, surrendering expression in her eyes. “Okay, okay, Henry.” She says, sitting down in his bed next to him.

She smoothed over his hair, and Henry looked at me expectantly. I exchanged a quick, covert look with her, implicitly making sure she was okay with all this, and she nodded, even repositioning herself to allow me more space on the other side of Henry. I slid in, moving around until I found a more comfortable position. The three of us attempting to squish into the same, child-sized bed resulted in a slightly tight fit, but it was cozy, nonetheless. (Y/N) had adjusted to be slightly leaned on her side, her hands now lazily playing with Henry’s hair, brushing the hair away from his face. I observed her affectionately, sensing a familiar warmth suffuse me yet again, as I beheld the domesticity in front of me. She made eye contact with me, still keeping her fingers running through the strands of the boy’s hair, smirking softly at me.

“You know.. I think someone promised us a bedtime story.” She murmured quietly, a touch of whimsy in her voice.

I chuckled softly at that, breathing out a little harder out of my nose. “Okay, yeah. Right.” I took a breath, and tried to recall something to recite off the top of my head. I decided on a classic, Alice in Wonderland as I felt its longevity would allow Henry ample time to fall asleep. She seemed pleased with this too, relaxing into her position on her other side of Henry, watching me as I began. I started to speak, my tone low and soothing, and in about twenty or so minutes, I could hear the soft breathing of the boy slow down and I gazed upon him, but quickly realized that (Y/N)’s fingers had stilled in his hair too, and in a moment of realization, I became aware that not only was Henry asleep, but so was she. I allowed myself to stare at her sleeping figure, marveling at the way strands of her soft hair gently placed themselves around her face in a way that framed her delicate features perfectly. I swallowed, wishing more than anything that I could lean over, brush over the wisps and kiss her forehead, but I held back, opting to gently push her awake.

“(Y/N).. hey.” I breathed out softly, keeping my voice to a low whisper so as to not wake Henry. “Come on, you don’t wanna fall asleep here.” I brought my hand to her shoulder, rubbing it softly to stir her awake and she did, blinking herself awake. She realized where she was and yawned, and let a soft giggle escape her lips.

“Ah, I totally fell asleep, didn’t I?” She mused, keeping a hushed voice.

“Yeah, you did.” I replied, watching as she woke up slowly, waiting for her to get up.

“You’re good at that. Getting him to sleep, I mean.” She said in return, keeping her attention on me, never once diverting her eyes from mine. She paused, seeming to consider her next words carefully, before following with a gentle addition, “You’d make a great dad.”

I tensed at the words, feeling my cheeks heat up from embarrassment and the sheer need to reach over and grab her by the shoulders, as if to alert her that, ‘Yes! I would! And I want that with you!’

Instead, I softly chuckled at her words, swallowing down my affection and nodding. “Yeah, I guess.”

She released a quiet breath, starting to move off the bed as slowly as she could. “We should get out of here. JJ and Will will be home soon, and we can go home.” She replied, in a faint voice.

I nodded, already beginning to shuffle off the bed and joining her at the door. I watched her give Henry one last look, before opening the door. She held it ajar for me and I walked past her quietly, and as I did, she followed, closing the door with a gentle click, and releasing another exhale.

“Thank god.” She said, smiling a little brighter now. We walked down the stairs, and she allowed her voice to raise as we got further and further away from Henry’s room. “It takes me forever to get him down. You’re like.. actual magic.” She continues, nudging my shoulder.

I fidget with my fingers, feeling a little bashful. We approached the living room again, standing in the middle of the room as we continued talking. “Yeah, no. JJ and Will have been asking me to babysit since Henry was three. You learn a lot.”

She gleamed at that, nodding. “Regardless of how you figured out how to do it, you were still a huge lifesaver tonight.” She remarked, adding to her statement in a soft voice. “Thanks.”

Her eyes met with mine. I gave her a smile, making eye contact with her again. I’d always loved her eyes, they were always so big and expressive. They just contained so much emotion, and I’d grown to love watching her when she was happy, or excited, because those emotions were so clearly reflected on every part of her face. But right now, as I looked into her eyes, they expressed an emotion I’d become very accustomed to seeing tonight, and found myself precariously losing my will to deny.

Desire.

And there it was again, that tenderness, that affection, and just the absolute craving to be with her, in every sense of the word. She bit her lip, and in an instant it was made clear to me that perhaps my sentiment to overlook the possible aftermath of giving into the desire that plagued us was shared, because she moved a little closer to me, her eyes moving from my eyes to my lips. I swallowed.

“Tonight was.. fun.” I murmur, eyeing her lips in a similar manner as she had.

She nodded, silent, before releasing a shaky exhale. “It was .. fun. Yeah.” She responds, her voice barely above a whisper.

We were barely speaking, and yet in that moment I felt entirely breathless in her presence. I wanted to say something, anything, but any thought of mine completely died, because as soon as I even attempted to open my mouth, she surged forward, planting her lips on mine. I was momentarily stunned. She kissed me once, then twice and then slowly pulled away. I instantly missed the feeling and warmth of her mouth against mine, wanting nothing more than to pull her against me again. She, on the other hand, looked mortified, her lips parted and her complexion flushed.

“Oh god, Spencer.” She started, a little frantic. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, and we can forget-”

I finally gave into what I’d been yearning for the whole night, not even bothering to respond to her apologies as I pulled her back against me, bringing her face closer to mine in a heated, passionate kiss. I could feel her happily sigh into my mouth, and I took the opportunity to slip my tongue into her mouth, and she only responded more enthusiastically to that, her arms wrapping themselves around my neck. I took the opportunity to lean down, placing my hands on the back of her thighs, never once letting my lips leave hers. I heard her moan slightly into my mouth at that, and I couldn’t help the smirk that formed on my face. I’d wanted this for so long, and with the way she was reacting, I could tell the lust I felt was mirrored in her as well.

I laid her on the couch, finally letting my lips leave hers to take a breath as I positioned myself above her and grinning wildly, She looked equally as excited, already trying to pull me back against her.

“You have.. no idea.. how bad I’ve wanted this.” She murmured, in between breaths, attempting to kiss me yet again.

Before I kissed her, I leaned down, letting my lips brush over the shell of her ear, lowly whispering, “I think I have a clue.”

I heard another soft moan coming from her at my words, and I felt a wave of pride knowing I’d done that to her. She was the one under me, moaning for me like that, and it only spurred me on further. I promptly moved myself closer to kiss her again, letting both of my hands rest on either side of my face as I hovered above her, fully losing myself in the action. We continued at this, feeling our hunger for more grow. I began to let my hand trail down to her hips, slowly bringing my hand under her hoodie, feeling a shudder as my hand met her warm skin. It took nearly everything to not rip it off her, but in an unanticipated shift in circumstances, we heard the telltale noise of the front door knob moving from its locked position, signifying that JJ and Will had gotten home.

I lept off her, her body imitating my movements, instantly moving away from mine and I almost immediately yearned for her touch again, but I understood the dire situation we’d found ourselves in. She brushed over her hair, attempting to make herself look as normal as she possibly could. I took in her state, hair in disarray, her skin reddened and her lips swollen. I had a sneaking feeling that I most likely mirrored her disheveledness, and took a breath, silently begging that JJ and Will wouldn’t notice, and even if they did, they didn’t comment on it. We heard the footsteps of them approaching the living room, and (Y/N) stood up to greet them.

“JJ, Will.” She said, smiling. “Henry’s all asleep and put down.”

JJ smiled at her, hugging her gently. “Oh, thank you so much. Was he good?” She asked, laughing a bit.

“An angel.” (Y/N) responded, smiling.

As JJ’s eyes met mine, she raised an eyebrow. “Spencer, what are you doing here?” She asked, with a confused look, before Will spoke up behind us.

“I thought (Y/N) couldn’t babysit.. I called Spencer.” Will said, a little sheepishly.

JJ looked at him, her jaw dropping a bit. “No, remember? I told you, (Y/N) wasn’t but then she could.”

The two of them laughed a little apologetically as they realized their miscommunication, turning to face me and (Y/N).

“We’re so sorry guys. We didn’t even realize..” JJ started, but (Y/N) interrupted her.

“No, no. It’s okay! Spencer was a huge help.” She says, smiling at me.

“Yeah.” I responded, nodding and affirming her statement in an attempt to alleviate any guilt JJ or Will might’ve felt about the situation (not trying to reveal how secretly pleased I was with it). “(Y/N) made the time go by faster than usual. Don’t even worry about it.”

JJ sighed, smiling and nodding. “Thank you. It was nice to get out of the house tonight.”

“It was no problem.” (Y/N) responds. I can tell she’s trying to play it cool, to end off the interaction before JJ looked at the two of us for a little too long and realized what had conspired in her and Will’s absence. “So.. uh. It’s late.” (Y/N) breathes out. “And I love your kid, JJ, but I’m ready for some well deserved sleep.” She said, with a little smile.

JJ nodded, knowing the feeling all too well. “Yeah, get out of here.” She said, playfully waving a hand at (Y/N), then me. “You too, Spencer. I’m sure you’re tired too, even if you’re too polite to say so.”

I rubbed my neck with my hand, chuckling softly. “Yeah, yeah.” I replied, trying to fake tiredness to match JJ’s expectations of what I’d be like after a night of watching her kid. However, I was probably the furthest thing from tired. My mind was racing with the possibilities of what had just occurred with (Y/N) just now, and how badly I wanted to do more. The sheer desperation I felt for her was absolutely ruining me, and honestly, I had very little willpower stopping me from just taking her hand and dragging her out of the house, and kissing her right outside on the porch. Thankfully, before that could happen, (Y/N) started walking towards the door and I followed behind her, attempting to look as normal as I could.

“Goodnight!” She called out, opening the door.

“Get home safe!” JJ responded, watching as we both left and closing the door behind us. I took a breath, turning towards her and exhaling. The night air was a lot colder than the warmth of the house, but even then I could feel how hot my body was becoming, absolutely begging for her once again.

“So..” I started.

“So..” She responded, and then suddenly spoke up. “Do you need a ride home?”

I blinked in response, understanding the implicit request in her words and biting my lip at it. “Yeah, I do.” I responded.

“Great.” She responds with purpose, grabbing my hand with a need I’d never seen from her before. It thrilled the hell out of me to know she was just as eager as me, and longed for me with the same fervor. Her gaze was intense as she led me to her car, and in a split second, I decided I couldn’t wait an entire car ride to taste her again. I quickly pinned her against the war, and I could feel her let out a noise of surprise before I dove in for another kiss, taking delight in the way she pressed against me instantly, giving into the kiss. She demonstrated her enthusiasm, nearly moaning into my mouth and I laughed, shushing her in between kisses.

“(Y/N)!” I said, whisper-yelling. “We’re right outside JJ and Will’s house. Someone’s gonna hear us.”

She pulled back, breathing heavily and looking at me with a glint in her eye. “Well, will you hurry up then and just take me back to your place?” She retorted, playfully, diving in for one last kiss.

I nodded. “Gladly.” I took the car keys from her, grinning wildly.

“Hey! It’s my car!” She said, trying to grab the keys back, a hint of amusement in her tone.

“I know a faster way back to my place. Wouldn’t you rather get there, than argue over who drives?” I say, feeling a surge of confidence as I cockily raised an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes, but I could sense the fondness in the expression as she basically ran to the passenger side, opening the door. “Drive fast. Please.” The desperation in her tone heightened my arousal and I wondered if it’d be possible to just give up and have sex in the backseat of her car, but I quickly let go of the thought. I’d wanted this for so long, and when I fucked her tonight, I was going to take my time. I was going to savor her, worship her for everything she was.

It took ten, painstakingly long minutes for us to reach my apartment, and less than three to stumble to my apartment, all over each other like a pair of horny teenagers. It was like we were magnets, unable to get away from each other for even a second without thinking we couldn’t live without the other. I responded passionately to each and every one of her advances against me, kissing her fervently against the wall, up the stairs, before finally leading her to my bedroom. We fell into my bed in a tangle of limbs, and I breathed heavily over her. Ultimately, we found ourselves once again in the same position we’d been in on JJ and Will’s couch, with me on top of her. I looked down at her, finally taking a break from kissing her to cradle her face with my palm, still holding myself above her body.

“Did you mean it?” She asked, softly, biting her lip.

“What do you mean?” I respond, starting to move my lips gently down her neck, testing out different points of sensitivity. I wanted to kiss every inch of her bare skin, to feel her in every way. I could feel her body squirm and tense as I let my lips linger on a particular spot between her ear and neck, beginning to lightly suck there until I heard a quiet moan coming out from the girl in front of me.

“The thing about me being a good mom.” She spoke, in between moans and happy sighs. “Or was that like, flirting? For sex?”

I suddenly retracted my position from her neck, making her whine a bit but I quickly placed a hand under her chin, forcing her to look at me.

“(Y/N), I cannot express how devastatingly real my feelings are for you. You’re- you’re perfect. And I wish I’d said it a long time before tonight, if I knew we could’ve done this much earlier.” I looked deep into her eyes, hoping my words and the intensity of my gaze could properly convey just how sincere I was about this, about her.

Her lips parted, and she let out a soft exhale, and then allowed the corners of her mouth to turn upwards in a smile. I smiled down at her, once again recapturing her lips in a kiss, almost as if to seal the deal between us. She reciprocated, before pulling back. “I meant it.” She admitted softly. “I’ve always thought you’d be a good dad.”

I could feel myself blushing at that, moving in for another kiss. I was enthralled by her, addicted to her taste and the way her lips moved over mine. I felt like I could do forever, but a slight mewl alerted me that she wanted a bit more than that.

“Spence, kissing is really, really nice. But if you don’t fuck-”

I quickly understood, beginning to kiss the expanse down her neck, already moving my hands under her hoodie and grabbing at her breast, squeezing the soft and supple skin through her bra, eliciting the sweetest sounds from her that only served to embolden me. I slowly moved to remove the pieces of fabric between us, and as soon as she registered the shuffling of her hoodie, she eagerly reached out to begin undoing the buttons of my own shirt. She paused, letting me pull off the hoodie and I leaned back, admiring her, all laid out like this for me. I ran a finger against her jawline, and watched her shudder at the intimacy of the action.

“You’re so beautiful.” I whisper, physically unable to take my eyes off her. I could tell it was affecting her, as she looked shy under my gaze, a light tinge of pink now dusting her cheeks as I spoke the words.

“Thank you.” She says, in a similar tone to mine. She leans up to kiss me again, and her fingers are working my buttons. I let her, shrugging the shirt off and pressing my bare chest against her. She was just so soft, and warm, and I truly couldn’t get enough of her. I moved down, kissing the swell of her breasts and moving my fingers back to unclasp her bra, slipping it off her and immediately attaching my mouth to her nipples, moving my hand to rub at the other one. I watched her mouth drop open, her face contorting with pleasure, moaning out my name. I continued my ministrations for a moment, before beginning to kiss down her stomach. I could feel the tensing of the muscles, her happy sighs and light moans indicating to me I was doing a good job at pleasing her, and at that moment, it’s all I wanted.

I began to slip down her sweatpants, reveling in the way she lifted up her hips, kicking off the clothing. I kissed near the hem of her underwear, teasing her by lightly tracing my finger near where a wet patch had formed against them.

“You were so good today, you know that?” I murmur, letting my breath hit her clothed core. I pressed a chaste kiss against it. “So fucking good.”

I hear a desperate moan from her, her hips jolting against my face, begging me for more. I nod, using my fingers to slide down the fabric, watching in fascination as her glistening folds were revealed to me, and in an almost primal way, I let my tongue dart out, licking a fat stripe against her. She immediately shuddered, nearly closing her thighs around me from the intense euphoria she was experiencing. I hooked my hands underneath them, holding her open and tasting the hot flesh against my tongue, enjoying the way she tasted against me. I had never felt such a burning need for anyone in my entire life, and I’m sure she could tell by the way, given the way I was absolutely devouring into her, my tongue continuing to move against her like a man starved, lapping up whatever I could. I wanted it all. I began to feel her thighs shake uncontrollably against me, and her moans reverberating around the room as her volume got louder.

“Please-please! Spencer. Holy fuck. Please don’t stop, please don’t-”

I let my tongue dart harshly against her clit, and her begging fell into a string of incoherent whimpers and praises for my mouth, making me chuckle slightly. It seemed to do her in, the vibration of my mouth causing her moans reaching a peak they hadn’t this entire night, and a tension leaving her body as she looked down at me with glazed eyes, breathing heavily. I drank her arousal, feeling the entirety of her arousal coating my lower chin. She moaned at the overstimulation, but I could only focus on how fucking good she tasted.

I moved up against her, giving her another kiss, before I felt her moving, tugging me off her.

“Something wrong?” I asked, knitting my brows and biting my lip.

“I need you inside me. Now. Please.” She said, the intensity of her desperation going straight to my cock as I nodded quickly.

“Okay, yeah.” I replied, quickly beginning to undo my own pants and pulling my cock out of the confines of my briefs. I gave it a few strong tugs, before moving above her again, rubbing the head of my arousal against her folds. She moaned at the feeling, before it died out into a silent scream as I moved inside of her with no warning. She screwed her eyes shut, before moaning out, “Fuck. You feel so good.”

That was all the incentive I needed, beginning to buck wildly against her watching as we both lost ourselves in the pleasure we were giving to the other. As she whimpered, I moaned out at the feeling of how well she was taking me. I leaned down, whispering into her ear. “You’re so good.” I moaned, feeling a particularly strong clench against my cock. “I want you so badly. I wanna make you mine.” I groaned, barely getting the words out as she tensed against me, clearly nearing her second release of the night.

I could feel the twitch of my member inside of her, feeling the arousal fill up in the pit of my belly, my breathing getting heavier and faster as we both reached our peaks.

“Take me.” She moaned, desperate and needy. “I’m yours. Make me yours.” She said, nearly screaming out the words.

My hips snapped harder against her, a primal growl coming out of me as I heard the words. “Is that right? You wanna be filled? You want my cum inside you, then?”

“Yes, yes! Spencer, please- please! I need it!” At her last beg, I groaned, feeling myself expel inside of her, feeling myself come inside of her. A few moments later, her walls spasmed against me, soft whimpers and moans leaving her lips as she convulsed against my cock. I thrust lazily, working both of us through our orgasms, before gently rolling off her, and kissing her forehead, then her cheek.

“You’re so amazing.” I whisper to her, as she gives me a dazed smile, clearly fucked out but elated. A thin sheen of sweat covered her, and it only served to make her look even more radiant in the light of my bedroom.

“You too, doc.” She said, a teasing quality in her voice, as she shifted herself closer to me. I opened my arms up to her, letting her lay her head on my chest, and I could feel her breathing relax and slow down as she settled against me, closing her eyes.

“Goodnight.” I murmur, kissing the top of her head one final time. I began to close my eyes, ready to fall asleep like this, before I heard her voice again, soft and light.

“Spence?” She mumbled, half-asleep as her lips brushed the bare skin of my chest.

“Mm?”

“I really like you.”

I laughed at that, feeling a bloom of absolute adoration fill my chest. “I really like you too.” I sighed, closing my eyes once more. “Sleep.”

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing, groaning as I realized it was JJ. (Y/N) was still asleep in my arms, and I shifted our positions slightly, careful not to wake her. I answered the phone in a low tone. “JJ? What’s up?”

JJ’s voice came frantic from the other line. “Spencer?! Spencer. Oh my god. Did (Y/N) get home last night? I’m here at her apartment, and I don’t see her car in the parking space and-”

I internally groaned, realizing I was going to need to explain her whereabouts without revealing what we had done. “Erm. JJ. Don’t worry.” I responded, trying to seem nonchalant, keeping my voice down. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Don’t worry?! Spencer, where the fuck is she?! Did you see her go home or-”

I interrupted her, sighing discerning that JJ wasn't going to take a vague answer right now. “She’s with me, okay! It’s okay. She’s with me.”

There was a beat, and then I heard the smile in her voice. “She’s with you?”

I rubbed my forehead, letting out a low groan. “She is.”

JJ’s voice, now growing excited erupted in a fit of giggles and laughs. “Oh god, I owe Will twenty bucks now. I knew it would happen eventually, but I never assumed all it would take would be one night spent together!”

It was my turn to be confused, knitting my brows. “Sorry, what?”

JJ responded simply, her coyness over the phone giving away everything. “Let’s just say we knew we were double-booking last night.”

hello again! thank you so much for reading. as usual, likes, reblogs, feedback are all appreciated. i cannot say thank you enough. <3 p.s . thanks for everyone's help on the poll!! i hope this satisfied everyone's want for a long smut fic, haha:3

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #smut #writing prompt #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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jungshookz · 1 year ago

Text

jungkook & y/n are too shy to admit they like each other and it's cute but also infuriatingly frustrating

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader // quarterback!jungkook x librarian!y/n

➺ genre; sfw!! honk honk humour!! soft soft fluff!! indulging in my wattpad-esque clichés!!

➺ wordcount; 7.3k

➺ summary; as much as you hate having to work on campus over the summer because you’d much rather be tanning on the beach inside of getting progressively paler in the library, you really can’t complain about getting to see a bunch of shirtless, sweaty boys running around on the football field whenever you’re on lunch break… and the fact that one of them is jeon jungkook is certainly an added bonus.

➺ what to expect; “you know, the next time you have an idea, i’d really appreciate if you ran it by me first before being a dickhead and launching a football right at someone-“

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; whatta man (feat. en vogue) — salt-n-pepa

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

“yo!”

“oh, jesus-“ you spin around and let out a breath of relief to see that it’s just jennie, pressing your palm flat against your chest before frowning, “you have got to stop doing that! you know, one of these days, i’m going to accidentally clobber you with a book and it’s not going to be my fault if i give you a concussion-“

“oh, please, like you have the hand-eye coordination to actually knock someone out-“ jennie snorts, adjusting the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder before wiggling her brows at you, “you wanna grab some lunch? didn’t your break start, like, ten minutes ago?”

“yeah, but then i saw edna putting books away and i love her because she reminds me of my grandma but god, it was making me anxious seeing her using the ladder,” you gesture over to the creaky wooden ladder at the end of the aisle, “so i told her i’d put the books away for her before i took my break.”

“you work too hard at a job that pays you too little,” jennie purses her lips, glancing down at your cart before grabbing the handle and pushing it forward, “you can come back and finish it! it’s not like the school is going to fall apart if you don’t put a few books back in the next hour-“

“well, i just- jennie- you’re not authorised to touch the cart-“ you press your lips together when you realise that you probably aren’t going to change her mind (you know you won’t) and put the book in your hand away in its place on the shelf before nodding contently, “okay, fine. we can go for lunch, but i’m coming back early to finish the job-“

“yes, yes, don’t worry, i won’t keep you for long-“ jennie teases, looping her arm through yours as the two of you head back towards the front desk so you can grab your bag, “my favourite food truck is back this week and i was thinking about those chilli oil dumplings the whole time i was in class- i honest to god couldn’t even tell you what we talked about today-“

“ooh, i want chilli oil dumplings!” you gasp, energy levels shooting up at the mention of food, “i’m gonna ask if they can give me an extra container of their dipping sauce… how was class?”

“eh, it was alright,” jennie shrugs with a shoulder, letting go of you so you can dip behind the desk to grab your phone and your wallet from your bag, “kinda hate the fact that i have to take summer classes to catch up on my credits, but whatever-“

“maybe if you spent less time with your tongue down taehyung’s throat all semester, then you wouldn’t have to take summer courses…” you tease lightly, jennie’s cheeks flushing bright red before she rolls her eyes and scoffs, “oh, don’t look at me like that! you know it’s true-“

“you’re just jealous because you’ve been wanting to stick your tongue down jungkook’s throat all semester but you’re too much of a wuss to do anything about it-“

“jennie!”

“you know it’s true-“ jennie mocks, and you scowl before reaching over to pinch her arm playfully, laughing lightly when she wraps her arms around herself and starts to make out with the air, “oh, jungkook, wrap your big, strong arms around me-“

“okay, point taken, you lunatic-“

taehyung and jennie have been dating for the last eight months — they met because jennie’s on the cheerleading squad and taehyung’s on the football team and jungkook is one of his team members — which means that you’ve known of jungkook for the last eight months but yes, it’s true that you’ve been too much of a wuss to do anything about it

can anyone blame you, though?? jungkook is just so, painfully attractive with his lopsided, boyish grin and pretty eyes and structured jawline and you certainly don’t have any complaints about the sleeve of tattoos he has

to be perfectly honest, you think you can keep it pretty cool even when you’re around people you find attractive, but there’s just something about jungkook that makes you uncharacteristically nervous

like clammy palms and cottonmouth and endless rambling level of nervous

you’d just hate to embarrass yourself in front of him because he seems a little too good to be true and it makes you want to present yourself as someone who is also on that level… which, of course, is a lot of pressure and has resulted in you spending the last eight months either hiding behind jennie’s back or sitting on the bleachers scrolling through your phone or thumbing through a book while waiting for her to finish up with taehyung whenever you’re on the field in order to avoid jungkook

you haven’t spoken to him too often, but he smiles at you every time he sees you and you smile back and give a wave if you’re feeling a little more brave

other than that, you really haven’t had many conversations with him

“i just don’t understand why you won’t let taehyung set you guys up on a date,” jennie frowns, “like- you literally have inside access to the man and you’re still not making a move-“

“because if taehyung sets us up, then jungkook will feel obligated to go out with me because i’m his best friend’s girlfriend’s best friend- wait- best friend’s… girlfriend’s… best… friend…“ you pause for a second to make sure you got that right before nodding to yourself, “yeah! and- i don’t know, if the date doesn’t go well, then it’d just be awkward-“

“your wussy nature is holding you back, y/n-“ jennie tsks, and you’re about to defend yourself but you feel your tummy do a flip when you realise that you guys are approaching the field (you usually cut across because it’s a shortcut to the food truck) and you hear the familiar sound of grunting and whistling, “this feels like a canon event, so i’m just gonna let you figure it out… but i’ll tell you right now that jungkook is a hot, hot target for a lot of people on campus and i can literally get you a date in 0.1 seconds, so… just keep that in mind!”

“what do you want from me??” you puff your cheeks out, “he makes me nervous, i can deal with this crush in whichever way i want-“

“baby!”

both you and jennie look over to see taehyung heading over with a bright grin, the man clearly excited to see his girlfriend

“speaking of a very attractive person-“ jennie giggles, waving at him as she unloops her arm with yours and picks up her pace

you stay at the same pace as you follow her trail, keeping a polite smile on your face as you watch your friend run up to the love of her life

“there you are, i was wondering when you’d come around-“ jennie lets out a squeal when taehyung swoops her up in sweaty, damp-jersey hug before plopping her back down on the ground and giving her a kiss, “hi, y/n-“

“hi, taehyung-“ you laugh lightly, nodding towards him in acknowledgement as you stand at an appropriate distance away from the happy couple, “nice to see you again in all your sweaty glory.”

“nice to see you again in all your-“ taehyung gestures to you with a teasing smile, “librarian glory. how’s the summer job treating you?”

“i’m getting paler by the minute and i’m starting to forget how to talk to people like a normal human being.” you joke, “you never stop by!! i’d be more than happy to give you some books to read if you ever take a break from training-“

“respectfully, those books would collect dust on my shelf-“

“we were talking about jungkook earlier-” jennie interrupts taehyung, reaching up to pat his chest with a giggle, “and how much y/n looooves him-”

“jennie…” you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully — as much as you adore jennie, sometimes you just wished she wasn’t as stubborn because once she has her sights set on something, she’ll do practically anything to reach her goal

and her new goal (the previous one was to cuff taehyung, which was an obvious success) is to set you up with jungkook because it’s painfully obvious how huge of a crush you have on him

“oh shit, you wanna say hi to him?” taehyung grins mischievously, turning back slightly to look over his shoulder, “okay, lemme see if i can get your husband’s attention-“

“woah, wait-“ your eyes widen in panic and you lick over your lips before shaking your head frantically, “i don’t- we were just gonna get lunch, i don’t think-“

“yo, kook!” taehyung hollers, holding a hand up before sticking his fingers into his mouth to whistle loudly, “jeon jungkoooook!“ he waves his arm wildly to get jungkook’s attention before stepping aside so that he’s not blocking the view

you feel your entire mouth go dry as soon as taehyung steps aside, your eyes immediately being graced with the sight of a tanned, shirtless jungkook dunking a bottle of ice cold water over the top of his head before shaking it off, tendrils of hair falling perfectly into place as he tosses his head back

he opens his mouth as he pours the last few drops of water into into it before crushing the plastic bottle against his chest with one hand and tossing the flattened piece of plastic into the recycling bin, the bottle bouncing off the rim of the bin before falling into it

jungkook reaches up to run his fingers through his hair as he spins back around and jogs back to join the others, his chest bouncing with every step and oh my god, you need to close your mouth before a fly buzzes right on in

droplets of water seem to glisten against his sun kissed complexion, and you find yourself letting out a breath you didn’t even realise you’d been holding when he turns around and gives you a very generous view of his toned back tapering down into what you can really only describe as a slutty little waist

good lord

“…is he moving in slow motion?” your voice wavers slightly as the question stumbles out of your mouth, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the lenses of your glasses start to fog up because of the heat radiating from your face right now

“jungkook!”

jungkook looks over his shoulder when taehyung calls for him again and you certainly don’t miss the way his biceps flex when he reaches up to adjust the bandana tied around his left arm

“get over here, bro!” taehyung gestures for him to come over and jungkook shoots him a thumbs up

“one sec, lemme dry off!” jungkook responds, pointing over to the benches where all their duffle bags are, “hi, jennie!”

“hi, jungkook!” jennie waves back before holding a hand over her eyes to shield herself from the sun before turning around to look at you, “oh my god, you are so in love with him-“

“oh, i am not-“ your cheeks flush and you shrink down a little, reaching up to rub the back of your neck, “i just- he’s-“

“we’d be honoured to speak at your guys’ wedding, by the way-“ taehyung smirks, and you hate the way that jennie has one to match with his, the two of them very clearly enjoying how much of an effect jungkook has on you

they certainly are the perfect couple

a match made in hell

“hey, guys!”

you quickly stand up a little straighter when you see jungkook jogging over, and you almost wonder if the universe is just testing you today when he slides a raw-hemmed crop top over his head, the cut-off sleeves making his arms look more biteable than they already do, “it’s a beautiful day out, thanks for coming out to say hi-“

“oh, of course! y/n and i were just gonna grab lunch-“

“hey, specs-“ jungkook flashes you the same crooked grin that makes your heart skip multiple beats in your chest and you know it’s only a nickname but you can’t help but feel a little giddy over the fact that he even gave you one in the first place (he complimented your glasses the first time you met), “those new?”

“these?” you reach up to adjust the wire-rimmed oval shaped frames sitting on the bridge of your nose, “yeah, i just- i accidentally sat on my old pair and i figured i’d just get a new set- thought i’d try a different style, so…“

“i like ‘em! very 90s, really cute-“ jungkook reaches over and flicks your glasses upwards a little, grin widening when he sees the blush spread across your cheeks

“thank you!” you clear your throat when your voice cracks a little and you adjust your glasses slightly before offering him a meek little smile, “i like your crop top. also very 90s of you and really cute-“

“you know what else is cute?” jennie interrupts, and you’re about to stop her from saying anything that’s going to embarrass you further (it’s her favourite thing to do and she claims she does it out of love and also to build character), “food, because i am starving. y/n and i were on our way to grab some food — did you boys want anything from the dumpling truck?”

“ooh, maybe grab one of those scallion pancakes for me for after practice??” taehyung swings an arm around jennie’s shoulder, “if i eat one now i’m definitely going to blow chunks mid-tackle.”

“and i’ll be the one having chunks blown on them because we’re partners for tackle practice…” jungkook shudders, crossing his arms over his chest, “i’m good though, thanks for the offer!”

“alright! well, if no one else has anything else to add to this conversation-“ jennie looks over at you and gives you a little look that you know translates to please, for the love of god, make a move only for you to purse your lips and shake your head no, “…okay! one scallion pancake for tae-“

“kook, you got anything to add?” taehyung looks over at jungkook and jungkook shakes his head no as well, frowning a little when taehyung gives him a look that he’s not sure what message is being expressed with, “…okay. one scallion pancake for me, i guess.”

“we’ll let you two get back to it! i’ll see you in a bit, baby-” jennie pops a quick kiss on taehyung’s cheek before joining your side again and looping her arm through yours, “don’t lose too many brain cells during practice!”

“can’t lose any if you didn’t have any to start with-“ jungkook chimes in, dodging a punch on the arm before letting out a cackle and going into a full sprint when taehyung suddenly lunges at him, “see you later, jennie! bye, specs!”

“‘bye, specs-‘“ jennie quotes, nudging your side as the two of you continue your trek, “you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s not a little into you-“

“my theory is that he knows i’m very into him and it makes his ego feel good so he just acts in ways that’ll make me all flustered so that-“

“okay, i’m gonna stop you right there and i’m going to say this out of love and also because i know you and i know the way you think, but i know for a fact that you think jungkook is out of your league and that’s what’s making you shrivel up into such a wimpy little shrimp whenever he’s in close proximity-“

“wha-“

“at the end of the day, jungkook is literally just a man.” jennie tsks, shrugging with one shoulder, “if he doesn’t like you, it would clearly be his loss because you’re a beautiful, loyal, witty, well-educated baddie-“

“you sound like such a cheerleader right now-“

“-but also he very clearly likes you so obviously he has his priorities right and a solid head on his shoulders-“ she spins over to stand in front of you, grabbing both your shoulders and giving you a shake, “stop getting into your own head. he is just a man. if it’s not him, it’s not the end of the world. if you don’t try, the answer is always gonna be no.”

“…i don’t like how well you know me.”

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

you’ve spent so much time in the library this summer that you’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to be in the sun — lucky for you, it was a slow day at the library and one of your co-workers came in a little early before his shift and very generously offered to cover for you, meaning that you could join jennie on the bleachers for lunch and actually sit and bask in the sun inside of buying lunch and hustling back to the library like you usually do

“c’mon, fellas, you can do better than that!”

the sound of the whistle blowing makes you peel an eye open as you look down towards the field, a smile twitching at the corner of your mouth when you hear taehyung letting out a groan before collapsing dramatically on the floor

your eyes wander over to jungkook, watching as he readjusts his bandana around his head to keep the hair out of his eyes

he claps his hands together and crouches down slightly before gesturing for taehyung to come at him, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration and his jaw clenched slightly

“are you listening to me or are you too busy drooling over jungkook?”

“i’m listening, i’m listening…” you let out a sigh of contentment, letting warm rays of sun wash over your skin as you lean back against the bleachers with your elbows on the steps and your head tilted back slightly

you swear you’re a good friend and a great listener, but jennie’s been babbling on and on about something for the last ten minutes and you’re starting to zone out a little bit

“i mean, seriously… how hard is it to slap a couple of sentences onto a slide and make it work? this is why i hate group projects, and i especially hate the summer school students because they’re just so damn lazy and no one ever puts in the work and then there’s always one person who ends up having to do everything and everyone still gets credit for it!” jennie scoffs, chewing on her straw with a scowl, “it’s due tomorrow and half of my group mates haven’t uploaded their slides yet-“

“well, didn’t you say you haven’t uploaded yours yet either?” you frown, raising a hand to block the sun from your eyes before squinting a little

jennie pauses, pursing her lips in thought, “…yes, but i’m just waiting to see what they’re going to do before i upload mine-“

“then maybe they’re doing the same thing and all of you are just wasting each other’s time?” you suggest with a weak shrug, reaching over to pick up your drink and take a sip (it’s a strawberry lemonade slushie and it was the perfect choice for this lovely summer afternoon)

“you know, as my best friend, you’re supposed to have my back and this just feels like a personal attack-“

“jennie, baby!” both you and jennie look out towards the field to see taehyung waving his arms around wildly, “check it out, check out how far i can throw the ball! i’m gonna get it right into the goal, you watch me-” he backs up a few steps before drawing his right arm back and throwing the football in one sharp-

“mine!” jungkook leaps up into the air all of a sudden and catches it swiftly, hugging the football to his chest before dashing off into a sprint towards the goal posts, “lunch is on you if i get this goal-“

“what the-“ taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, “you little shit, get back here!” he snaps, chasing after him and pouncing on his back before jungkook can get to the goal

the two of them tumble to the ground, jungkook letting out a grunt as he lets go of the football and lets it roll away

“you so did that just to get y/n’s attention.” taehyung huffs, wincing as he stares up at the sky, “jesus, i am not made for tackling, i have no idea how i made it onto the team-“

“because you’re the fastest runner and- also, i did not do that just to get y/n’s attention-“

“okay, mr. quarterback, your job is to throw or hand the ball off and i just find it funny that you stopped practicing that as soon as you realised y/n was in the bleachers- there are other ways to get her attention.”

“i wasn’t doing it for attention!” jungkook props himself up onto his elbows with a frown before pursing his lips and tilting his head a little, “…is she looking at us, though?”

“she’s talking to jennie.” taehyung snorts, getting back up onto his feet and picking the ball up before holding a hand out for jungkook, “you wanna get her attention? because i have a little idea.”

“what’s your- taehyung, wait-“

“did you still wanna watch barbie together this weekend?” you turn to look over at jennie as you bring your cup back up to your mouth for a sip (your drink is starting to turn into a warm, strawberry lemonade syrupy soup and it’s not very pleasant), “or are you seeing that with tae?”

“well, i was thinking we could actually do a little double date situation if you’re up to it…” jennie grins, reaching over to swat your knee, “it’s a movie date! it’s like two hours of being in a dark room with jungkook sitting next to you and you won’t have to make conversation, you’re gonna be fine-“

“well yeah, but then after the movie’s over we’re probably gonna go get food and-“

“incoming!”

“wha- oh!” you yelp in surprise when a football lands on you out of nowhere, the cap on your drink popping open and subsequently making you spill it on yourself as you get up frantically, “oh, god…” you set your cup down on the metal steps as you look down at your soaked tank top and jeans, the sweet-sticky fragrance of strawberry lemonade invading your nostrils

“aw, it’s on my bag!” jennie scowls, looking at the two droplets of pink staining the cream of her tote bag with a frown, “this artificial pink is gonna take forever to wash out-“

“yeah, tell me about it-“ you wince, shaking your hands off as you continue analysing the mess

it’s quite literally all over your tank top and lap and you don’t have a spare top or pants with you, so the only plan you have right now is to book it to the campus bookstore and buy an overpriced t-shirt

you hate to admit it but it looks like you pissed your pants big time, so maybe you’ll have to buy a pair of overpriced basketball shorts too

“are you fucking kidding me??? that was your idea of- oh my god, you dumbass-” jungkook snaps, turning to look at taehyung incredulously before sprinting over to the bleachers

“hey, it got her attention!”

jungkook wipes his clammy hands on his jersey as he dashes up the steps two at a time until he gets to you and jennie, feeling his cheeks burn slightly when he sees you standing there soaked in your drink and obviously not knowing what to do

“shit, y/n, i’m sorry-“ jungkook bends down to pick up the football before it can roll down the steps, “i’m so sorry, i was supposed to catch that but taehyung’s aim seems to be a little off this afternoon-“ he turns his head for a second to shoot a glare at taehyung, who is very leisurely making his way up the stairs as if he didn’t just pelt you with a football and make you waste your drink

“i’m fine! don’t worry about it, i’m fine-“ you laugh lightly, shaking your hands off and peeling your tank top from your stomach slightly, already feeling gross from how sticky everything is against your skin, “good throw, tae-“

“thank you! i have to say it was one of my best throws, if i’m being honest.” taehyung wiggles his brows, plucking the ball from jungkook’s arm before swooping down to give jennie a kiss, “you two enjoying the sun?”

“we were, until that happened-“ jennie reaches up to pinch taehyung’s cheek, “your aim must be horrible if the football landed in the bleachers.” she raises an eyebrow and gives him a look that tells him that she knows he did that on purpose, because of course he would do something like this on purpose

“i have a spare jersey and shorts in my bag, i can go get that for you right now-“

“oh, jungkook, you really don’t have to do-“ you don’t get a chance to finish before jungkook is dashing down the steps and you puff your cheeks out before looking down at yourself again, “i… should probably go rinse this off-“

“rinsing that off in the sink isn’t going to get the pink out.” taehyung snorts, “i’ve had that strawberry lemonade before. the pink food-dye they use is potent. if you took an x-ray right now, all of your organs would be neon pink-”

“great, that’s great to know- lemme head to the washroom now-“

“i’ll come with-“ jennie’s ears prickle slightly when she hears the familiar sound of the sprinklers turning on (they’ve turned on automatically many times whenever the squad is practicing on the field) and a lightbulb appears at the top of her head before her lips turn up in a devious grin, “there is a faster way to clean you off, actually. tae, can you go check on the spare clothes for y/n?”

taehyung narrows his eyes slightly before nodding slowly, turning on his heel and hopping down the steps to go back to jungkook

“you think i should go to the changing rooms instead to take a shower?” you sigh, wincing as you squeeze out excess pink syrup from your shirt and let it drip onto the concrete

and now you got some on your shoes too, so that’s just great

“well, the changing rooms are too far!“ jennie’s tone is suspiciously cheery, and before you know it she has a firm grip on your wrist is yanking you down the steps like her own little ragdoll before she whips around the corner under the archway

“what are you doing?” you frown, watching as she unravels the massive hose and makes sure the nozzle is on securely

“jungkook’s bringing you a change of clothes anyway, so i’m sure you won’t mind if i-“

you barely process what the hell is going on before you’re suddenly being blasted with a hose, another yelp of surprise slipping past your lips before you hold your arms up to dodge the aggressive spray of water directly aimed at you

“jennie!”

“you know, the next time you have an idea, i’d really appreciate if you ran it by me first before being a dickhead and launching a football right at someone-“

“well, it got her attention, didn’t it? and now she’s about to wear your clothes, so like- i don’t really see what the big issue is here.” taehyung sighs, standing with his hands on his hips as jungkook digs through his duffle bag for his spare set of clothes

he only has one set so he’s not sure what he’s going to wear after practice today, but maybe he can get away with spraying himself with a lot of deodorant after he takes a nice hot shower

or he could steal taehyung’s clothes considering the fact he caused the spillage in the first place

“you could’ve hurt them or something! what if that football had landed on her head and given her a concussion?”

“you clearly underestimate my impeccable aim. if i wanted to knock y/n out, i would’ve knocked her ass out in one shot-“ taehyung scoffs, walking alongside jungkook as the two of them start trudging across the field back towards where you and jennie are

“and where am i even supposed to go from here, huh?” jungkook frowns, “ooh, she spilled her drink all over herself and now she has to wear my clothes-“

“clothes that she’ll have to return to you at some point, prompting another sweet but heinously short conversation between the two of you- do you even realise how frustrating it is for me, as your best friend, to watch you clearly be into a girl and not know how to act around her when you could literally cough and make, like, ten people cream their pants-“

“eugh- hate that imagery-“

“well, it’s true!”

“nobody is going to cream their- what the-” jungkook stops in his tracks and holds a hand out to stop taehyung when they get close enough to see jennie literally hosing you down

“there you go, girl!” jennie laughs, raising the hose upwards so that the water is raining down on you, “get into it! get that strawberry lemonade outta your clothes-“

jungkook watches slack-jawed as you run both hands through your hair to slick it back, your tank top glued and scrunched up to the upper half of your abdomen and oh my god, you have a little tattoo on your hip and that is insanely attractive to him

“wait, this was actually such a good idea!” you grin, tilting your head up and clearly enjoying the water raining down on you, “helps with the heat, too-“

“see? all you have to do is listen to me and you’ll be happy!” jennie lowers the pressure of the water so that it turns into a light mist and you let out a laugh, swiping the water off your face before looking down to see if the stains are out of your clothes

“holy shit.” jungkook whispers to himself, his grip squeezing and loosening around the clothes he has fisted in his hand

his entire mouth has gone dry and all of a sudden he also feels the need to be blasted with some cold water to snap out of it

“is my mascara running?”

“yeah, but it’s giving, like, sexy raccoon, you know?”

“you might wanna put that away, bud.” jungkook grunts as taehyung jabs his elbow into his side and he turns his head to frown at him

“ow- what are you talking about?”

the smile grows on taehyung’s face before he presses his lips together to hold it back, “i’m talking about the fact that if you turned to face me right now you would jab me in the thigh.”

“jab you in the-“ jungkook looks down, eyes widening and the blood immediately draining from his face (obviously, because all the blood is heading down south) before he hands the spare clothes over to tae and yanks the towel off his shoulder to cover himself up, “oh my god, fuck-“

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

“bye bye, you two!”

“thank you for the clothes, jungkook! i’ll wash them before i give them back to you-“

“no problem! bye… bye…” jungkook waves at you and jennie as the two of you walk off, reaching for his water bottle blindly as a fond smile sits on his face

you look awfully cute in his clothes, that’s all

“you looooooove y/n,” taehyung sings, snatching the water bottle from him with a laugh, “you love her you love her you love her you-“

“oh, cut it out-“ jungkook scowls, reaching for another bottle of water from the pack and twisting the cap off with a crack, “you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“yeah, alright, specs.” taehyung snorts, rolling his eyes playfully, “remind me again why you haven’t asked her out yet? you know she’s into you. and you’re clearly into her.”

“i just-“ jungkook clears his throat quietly before taking a small sip of water, “i don’t know… flirting is fun and short and easy and i’m just… worried that maybe she won’t like me as much when we’re together and alone for like, three hours on a date.”

“are you nervous to go out with y/n?” taehyung asks incredulously, eyes widening in what seems to be a mixture of shock and joy, “are you shitting me right now? jeon jungkook is scared to ask someone out on a date because he’s worried they won’t like him-“

“it’s a legitimate fear! i’m allowed to be anxious about it-“

“i never said you weren’t allowed to be anxious about it, i’m just saying that you’re jeon jungkook and you have people lining up for you around the block twenty four hours of the day, seven days a week!” taehyung gives him a hearty slap on the back before swooping an arm around his shoulder and forcing him to turn towards the bleachers, “you think those girls over there are here to actually sit and have lunch?”

jungkook looks over at the clusters of girls scattered around the bleachers, each friend group chatting away and picking at their lunches

“well, they’re not just here for me,” jungkook shakes his head, gesturing to the guys all over the field, “it’s a fuckin’ sausage fest out here, they’re here for everyone-“

“but you’re the only one who can fulfil the hot quarterback boyfriend fantasy.” taehyung jabs a finger into his chest with a grin before reaching down to pat his bare abdomen, “and you’re one of the only single guys left. you’re the belle of the ball, baby.”

jungkook looks back over at the people on the bleachers, shooting the girls a friendly smile and a nod of acknowledgement when he notices them staring at them

they burst into fits of giggles, jungkook tilting his head with a cheeky grin and shaking his head again

he doesn’t know if this is going to be douchebaggy of him to think, but he likes making people flustered!! it’s always fun to see their reactions

he likes making you flustered in particular, because there’s just something about your reaction that’s just so damn adorable

sometimes you roll your eyes, sometimes you snort, sometimes you avert your gaze immediately and rub the back of your neck — but he loves the way your eyes widen slightly before your cheeks get rosy

“y/n’s really cool. she’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s funny, she’s educated, she can hold a conversation-“ taehyung clicks his tongue, “and she has that sexy librarian thing going on if you’re into that- which, by the way, is something that jennie told me to mention to you whenever i try to market y/n off to you-“

“i know she is!” jungkook nods, “and i know she does, and i’m definitely into it, i just- ah, i don’t know. maybe i should ask her out.”

“maybe, maybe not…” taehyung raises an eyebrow, “no pressure! it’s whatever if you decide not to, because i can hook y/n up with namjoon or something-“

“hey, hey, no need for such drastic measures,” jungkook frowns, reaching over to give taehyung a punch on the arm, “…alright, fine. i’ll ask her out.”

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

“so, you’re going to find that in the historical fiction aisle-“ you lean over the counter a little and point to the back, “it’s all the way in the back right to your left. you can’t miss it, the label’s going to be right on the front of the bookshelf.”

“alright, thank you so much.”

“no problem, let me know if you need any help finding anything else.” you smile politely, reaching up to adjust your frames before turning back to look at- “jungkook!”

your eyes widen in surprise and you’re suddenly happy that edna asked you to stay at the front desk to help people when she already knows you always prefer the lowkey jobs

you haven’t seen jungkook in about a week and a bit (you’ve been pretty busy at the library and there’s just not enough time in your lunch breaks to make the long journey across the football field) but you’re pleasantly surprised to see him here

though… it is just the two of you now, without taehyung and jennie as buffers, so… good luck?

“hey, specs,” jungkook flashes you a lopsided grin before looking around, shoving both his hands into the pockets of his varsity jacket, “god, it’s cold in here, no wonder you’re always wearing jeans in the dead of summer.”

“oh, yeah-“ you snort, looking down at your jeans, “i- well, we have to keep the library at a certain temperature because it’s good for the books but- i’m sure you’re not here to listen to me talking about how to keep books in pristine condition- did taehyung give you your clothes back? thank you so much for lending them to me, by the way. you’re a lifesaver.”

“yeah, yeah! no worries, hah- sorry i, uh- disappeared for a bit, i just… had to help coach with something, so i gave the clothes to tae and… yeah.” jungkook clears his throat and averts his gaze when you offer him a smile

“so… can i help you find anything?”

“well, i actually-“ jungkook chokes a little when he looks back up to see you looking right at him, your pretty eyes sparkling behind your glasses as your lashes bat ever so slightly, “first i just wanted to say sorry again for the slushie incident, i guess i just underestimated how far taehyung could throw a ball-“

“oh, god, really, don’t worry about it-“

“okay! in that case, i- uh… i just wanted to…” jungkook doesn’t know why his brain always seems to blank out at the most inconvenient of times but he supposes it’s a character development thing, “book!”

…

book.

he feels himself deflate slightly at how much of a himbo he’s probably making himself seem and he puffs his cheeks out as he thinks about how the hell he can recover from whatever that was

for the record, he’s usually very good at asking people out

like, very good

he’s just a little out of his element!!! the library is your territory and he doesn’t know if he’s being too loud or if he should speak louder and also there’s a queue forming behind him so now he’s just anxious and he feels like he’s wasting everyone’s time and also if you say no that’s just going to be flat out embarrassing and the people behind him are probably going to tell their friends that there was a guy at the library who asked the front desk girl out and she said no and i felt kinda bad for him and-

“you wanted to… book?” you repeat, the corners of your mouth turning up in a slight smile, “well, you’re certainly in the right place for that.”

“actually, i didn’t want to book- i mean, i didn’t want a book, i wanted to ask you something-“

“oh, sure! you’re also in the right place for that-“ you gesture to where you’re standing behind the desk with a light laugh, “what can i help you with?”

“do you wanna watch the barbie movie with me this weekend?” jungkook forces the question out before he chickens out, and he stands up a little straighter to feign confidence, “with me… and tae and jennie, because they wanted to watch it too. but we don’t have to share our popcorn and nachos with them, they can get their own snacks.”

jungkook counts one, two, three seconds before he decides that you are definitely about to turn him down, and he automatically starts sorting through the many lines of dialogue in his brain in response to your inevitable rejection

no worries, have a good one!

okay, goodbye!

anyways, book time for me!

“yes!” you respond almost as soon as he’s about to open his mouth and take his offer back (thank god), and jungkook tries to hide his excitement but it’s hard when he sees that you’re also trying your best to hide the megawatt smile creeping its way onto your face, “i- no, yeah, that would be great! i was gonna go regardless but being the third wheel is never fun, so it’d be fun to go with… you. and jennie and taehyung.”

jungkook gives himself a mental pat on the back, feeling himself revert back into his normal, confident ways all of a sudden

aha

you said yes

you like him (and he likes u)

nice

“oh, sick! alright, cool-“ jungkook clears his throat, nodding to himself, “yeah, cool, cool. okay, then i guess i will see you… this weekend. or whatever.”

“or whatever.” you tease, shrugging with one shoulder, “sounds good, jungkook.”

“okay, well- practice starts in a bit so- see ya, specs-“ jungkook raises his arm to wave only to realise his hand is still in his pocket, and he quickly yanks it out to give you a proper wave as he heads towards the doors

he lets out a breath of relief, his shoulders loosening up a little and he nods to himself with a proud smile

“that wasn’t as bad as i thought it’d be.” taehyung chirps right as jungkook walks out the doors, bending down to swoop his bag up off the ground and hand it back to him, “that was worse than i thought it was going to be. jesus christ, man. what the hell was that??”

“hey, she still said yes!” jungkook frowns, feeling his face turning red from humiliation because he doesn’t even know what the hell that was

if the roles were reversed he would fully be laughing his ass off at taehyung too

“she must really be into you if she said yes to watching the barbie movie with me and tae and jennie and they can get their own snacks and-“ taehyung laughs, “my god, it’s like you left all your rizz at the front door-“

“she said yes and that’s all that matters!”

🎙️ tease jungkook and y/n for both being little wussies (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

1K notes · View notes

seokgyuu · 5 months ago

Text

Strawberry Wine - Part 1

Pairing: Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Fem!Reader

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Strangers to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Fake Dating, Smut (not in this part) MDNI!

Synopsis: After breaking off your engagement to your cheating fiancé, you decide to take the planned trip to Paris anyway. A vacation alone with the honeymoon suite all to yourself seems like the perfect distraction. Just that, due to an internal error at the hotel lost soul Jihoon, who still isn't over his first love's death five years ago, is staying in the same honeymoon suite as you.

Warnings (in this part): mentions of cheating, alcohol consumption, angst, probably a not so good description of paris tbh, the word "cock" is mentioned once, slight sexual tension

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: hi everyone!! this is part one of my story for the world tour collab hostes by @svthub!! check out the masterlist here! this one is a bit of a... beginning, i guess, lol. the real drama and smut and all that will be in part two. but i still think this is a a fun part to get to know our characters! this not beta read and i might edit it later... thanks for reading i hope you enjoy <3 header & divider credit to @okiedokrie!

one; the author

The flash of the camera goes off and you’re almost sure your eyes were closed. The teenage girl next to you smiles brightly and waves at you once more before rushing off to go over to her mother. You lightly smile back and look over to your right where Minghao is giving you a thumbs up. Apparently, so you interpret his gesture, you’re holding up quite well for someone who just caught her fiancée cheating two weeks ago.

You’re aware that you could have canceled the book signing today. No one would have been mad. But even though your heart is shattered to a million pieces and you don’t think you’ll ever heal from this hurt - you still need to earn money and make those who give you that money happy. Just sucks that the person you build this with is somewhere on the Bahamas with your biggest rival on the romance book market. Or, well, as your publisher says: your bestest friend on the romance book market. Since you’re both making money, of course. You can’t count the times you and her have been sent to events together, not saying a word to each other on the way there and playing happy family the second you are in front of the cameras.

Her books weren’t even good! Boring and predictable if anyone asked you. Your ex had always agreed with you, even if he was her agent as well as yours. But Jaehyun was slick - he told her the same about your books.

“Hi, oh my god, I love your books so much! I can’t wait for the next one!” It’s a boy with the brightest and whitest smile you have ever seen and for a second you can forget your sadness.

“Thank you so much. What name do you want me to sign?”

The book signing ends about half an hour later. You’re in the car with Minghao who’s typing something on his phone as he sits in the backseat with you.

“You did great, you know.” He says, not looking up. His words make your stomach turn uncomfortably even though you know he means well.

“Thanks,” is your mumbled response, your head slowly turning to look out of the window. Minghao sets down his phone, realizing his words didn’t come out the way he wanted them to. He sighs.

“Best friend dearest,” he starts, “you know what I meant. Considering you have been in your room with no lights on and Adele on repeat for the last few months - you did exceptionally well socializing with people you don’t know.”

“It’s my job after all, isn’t it?”

“No, your job is writing brilliant books, Y/N. This is just a bonus. Your books would sell wonderfully even without you doing this.”

Three months ago this would have made your chest fill with pride. You’d be beaming and agreeing with Minghao, content with your life and what you had made it to be. But now, it’s different.

Now, all you feel is ache in your chest. No sense of pride, no smile in sight. No contentment with how your life is going. Joy has been missing in your palette of feelings for a long time.

The city lights are what keep you awake. Exhaustion and the feeling of sadness that you have become so used to are close to make you falter, to make you want to go home and put those Adele songs right back on repeat. It’s not fair, you think. Not fair that your life was ruined this way and you can’t get back up. That all you’re able to do is live because you have to, not because you want to. And the closer July 17th comes - the more you feel yourself falling deeper into a hole.

It’s hard to believe that three months ago you were a completely different person. A person who loved to laugh, who had fun game nights with her friends, cooked every day, went for runs in the morning, planned a wedding. You were a person who loved to love. All of this was accompanied by the person you had been sure you’d spend the rest of your life with: Jaehyun. He was tall, handsome, kind. You had met him through work - he had been assigned your agent when you switched publishers. He was your muse. Helped you with your books, made the sales sky rocket with the way he marketed you.

For five years he was your everything. In some ways (ways you loathed) he still is. Your whole life revolved around him. Wherever you went - he did too. Whenever you fell - he was there to catch you. Nothing in the world could have ever prepared you for what was going to happen. But then again, when is someone ever prepared to be cheated on by the person they trusted the most in their life?

To say it was a shock would be an understatement. Accidentally finding the messages he sent to her on his iPad. Confronting him and seeing his face fall, his expressions change into something you had never thought possible. He looked caught. Mainly because he was. Also because he never thought the truth would come to light. You had been the only one left in the dark. Everyone at the publishing house knew what he was doing. He and her.

It wasn’t fair, you knew that, but in the beginning you couldn’t handle being mad at Jaehyun. Instead you focused all your anger on her, all the hurt you felt. It wasn’t like you had particularly liked her before - she was your rival, the person everyone always compared you to. She was younger than you, didn’t have as much experience - but she was more successful. At least to an extent. Her books regularly went viral on ‘booktok’, mainly because she wrote them like she worked in a factory. Every couple of months there’d be a new one - and people ate it up. You, on the other hand, liked to take your time, liked to write stories with captivating characters, with characters people could relate to - fall in love with.

Suddenly your biggest rival became the person you hated and wanted to be like the most in the world. To be her would mean to have him. Him, who you still love so much, who still means everything.

It is a little different now. 100 days later and you feel like you don’t love him as much anymore. Yes, it still hurts like hell and, yes, you want to stay home most of the days. But you don’t miss him as much as you used to.

“Do you want to grab a drink?” Minghao asks now even though he already knows the answer. Gosh, you wish you could give him a yes. A smile and a yes. Instead, you only present him with the first, stretching out your hand and reaching for his.

“I need to get home, Hao. Today has been a lot.”

Minghao nods slowly, a sad smile on his pretty lips. He understands, he really does. But he also misses his happy best friend. Misses the way your eyes crinkle when you smile wholeheartedly , misses the sound of you honest laugh. No matter how many time will pass, he doesn’t think he could ever forgive Jaehyun for what he’s done to you.

Fighting with a french man on the phone at the crack of dawn surely had not been on your agenda for today.

“I’m sorry, miss, but the cancellation period ended two weeks ago, there is nothing we can do.”

It’s too early and you are too tired. He is probably too by now, considering he has been saying this sentence at least five times in the past seven minutes. You pull a hand through your hair and let it drop back onto the mattress after.

“My wedding isn’t happening anymore, and you really won’t let me cancel the honeymoon suite?” Usually, you’d never snap at anyone over the phone - especially custom service personnel, but this is different. What he’s implying means you won’t get any money back from one of the most expensive purchases you’ve made. Worst thing about this: you paid for this yourself. Jaehyun had paid the location - which of course could still be canceled. But the freaking hotel stay in Paris of course was set in stone!

“I am very sorry, miss. I wish there was more that I could do. Perhaps you can take the trip yourself and enjoy our beautiful honeymoon sui-“

You hang up on him. It’s not polite, you’re aware. But just the thought of being alone in the suite you were supposed to enjoy with your freshly baked husband… no, absolutely not. Then, fine, you’d have to live with having spent thousands of dollars on a hotel suite you wouldn’t be able to use.

As if life isn’t horrible enough already.

When you sit at brunch later that day with Minghao and your mutual friend Mingyu, they both stare at you like you’ve just told them you decided to get Jaehyun’s face tattooed on your thigh.

“Are you kidding me? You basically get to have a Paris vacation for free for yourself!” Mingyu says, the glass of mimosa he is holding in his hand is almost spilling with the way he moves his arm. You scoff.

“What do you mean “free”? I literally paid for it months ago!”

“Okay, and did you already make that money back?” Mingyu continues and raises his brow. You stay silent for a moment.

The restaurant Minghao chose is filled with people enjoying the vegan food made from scratch. Your own very delicious avocado toast with a side of fresh fruit and soy-yogurt is laying in front of you, waiting to be eaten. The mimosa Minghao had ordered for you remains untouched.

“She has.” Hao decides to answer for you as he sips from his mug of matcha. You shoot him a glare.

“So what! I’m not going to go to Paris by myself when this was supposed to be my honeymoon!” You try to stay quiet, looking from Minghao to Mingyu and back. Judging by their faces, they don’t seem to understand the big deal.

You envy them. God, how much you wish you could just do it. Go on that already paid for vacation by yourself, not give a single damn about Jaehyun and his new girlfriend. Your heart sinks. Just thinking these words is making you feel like crawling back into bed.

Minghao groans and puts his mug back on the table.

“Y/N,” he starts and his voice sounds more serious than you’ve ever heard him talk before - even Mingyu seems startled, “I get it, okay? I get that he hurt you, that he made you believe in something that was never going to work. He is an asshole, if not the biggest asshole walking freely on this earth. But you’re young! You’re young and you deserve better than this! Keeping to yourself, barely leaving your apartment - your bed, honey, it’s not good for you. I understand that you want to stay away, that the world is a fucking scary place without the person you thought was your person right there next to you,” he grabs your hand over the table, “but do you know what all of this means? That your person is still out there! That you can still find them! And what better place to start than Paris, the literal city of love!”

He means well. Just like the other night after the book signing. He means well and he wants just what’s best for you. No one wants you to feel better as much as he does. Then why does it make you so mad that he is asking this of you? That he is calling you out this way?

You pull your hand away from his and grab your purse from the free chair next to yours. Both men gawk at you, startled.

“Y/N-,” Mingyu tries, but you raise your hand to interrupt him.

“You get it, Hao? Really? Has your significant other of five years also cheated on you with your biggest rival? Did you also have to cancel a wedding you put hours and hours of work and money into? Because I don’t remember this happening to you! So, I would really appreciate it if you gave me the time I need to grieve this relationship and decide for myself when I am ready to get out again!”

Without giving them another look, you storm out of the restaurant. Everything around you is a blurr and you only notice that you’re crying when you reach your car. Cursing to yourself, you move to open your car, tears dripping from your cheeks down onto your shirt. God, what a pathetic little woman. Crying in your car after yelling at your best friends for what? For caring? For only meaning to help?

It takes a while before you manage to start the engine and get on the road to drive home. The radio is silent and for a second you wished you could turn off your brain the same way. Just one switch and all thoughts gone. All the self doubts and the hurt, all the thoughts of what-if and the wish to travel back in time and never have you take his iPad.

You stop at a red light and wipe away some more tears. You don’t dare to look into the mirror and check your make-up.

Never finding the iPad, you circle back, if you had never found it, you wouldn’t be in this situation. No, you’d most likely still be in a relationship with a man that cheated on you. That didn’t love you half as much as he claimed, that didn’t deserve the time and care you’d given him.

When the light turns green, you continue your way, your thoughts still roaming around the what if. And while your heart yearns for him back, for what you believed you had - your head knows it’s better this way. Jaehyun isn’t the one for you, as much as you would have loved him to be, Minghao is right. It’s just that the thought of starting over with someone new makes you cringe, makes fear rise within you. Someone new to give your heart to and hope they don’t break it the way Jae had.

Once you’re on the highway you think back about the time you had decided to travel to Paris for your honeymoon. It had been your idea, your wish. Your first ever book, even if it never made it onto a bestseller list or into the mouths of the best romance critics - it was set in Paris. The city of live, the city you decided would become your favorite even though you had never been. Spending two weeks there with the love of your life after becoming his forever, seriously, nothing had ever sounded as wonderful as that.

Minghao’s words ring in your ear. Your person is still out there, he said. And that Paris, as the city of love, would be the perfect place to go look for them. Your knuckles turn white around the steering wheel. You never wanted to spend time in Paris with anyone but Jaehyun.

Or maybe, you think as you take the exit leading to your neighborhood, the only Person you need to spend time with in Paris is yourself.

two; the lost soul

He never should have listened to Jeonghan. No one should ever listen to Jeonghan. The cab driver is speaking in quick french that Jihoon knows he wouldn’t understand even if he spelled out every word for him. Then again, he isn’t even sure the driver is talking to him or just about him. Jihoon can’t really blame him. After all, he is the stupid American with the stupid big guitar case and a backpack almost bigger than himself.

The backseat is hot and Jihoon’s sunglasses do little to keep the sun from blinding him.

Paris in the summer sounded better on paper than it does actually experiencing it. It’s nothing compared to the summer in Arizona, where Jihoon grew up, but having lived in Vermont for a while now, he wasn’t used to the burning hot, scorching sun that threatened to give him the sunburn of his life if he didn’t re-apply his sunscreen every few hours.

Tara had always laughed at him and his easily burned skin. She never burned, no, she got a tan right away, looking beautiful in the rays of sunshine dazzling on her skin like they belonged there.

Right now, he misses her more than he has in a while. When he passes the beautiful architecture of his first love’s favorite city, he smiles even with the sun shining directly into his eyes.

In all seriousness, Jihoon doesn’t know why he is here. It feels wrong to be here without her, but it also felt like he had to take the invitation from his friend. She would have never forgiven him, if he let this opportunity fly. Visit the city of love, the city she had always dreamt about, he knows as wrong as it feels, it’s the right thing to do.

A few minutes later, the cab stops in front of an old looking building. Without saying anything, the driver takes Jihoon’s Euros and drives off after heaving Jihoon’s suitcase out of his trunk.

Jihoon looks after the car, his dark hair falling into his forehead. Once the cab takes the next corner, he looks at the building, something stirring in his stomach. This… doesn’t look like the pictures on AirBnb at all. Quickly, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, happy he booked the data package at the airport back home. Opening his app, he feels like he’s about to throw up his airplane food.

It’s not there. The apartment is gone from the app, not newly put in under a different name, not just gone because of a glitch. It’s like it never existed. Jihoon curses, moving his fingers over his screen, calling the customer service only to be met with a french speaking automatic voice that doesn’t help him in the slightest.

Hanging up again, he stares at his phone for a few seconds. He shouldn’t have come. It feels too much like a sign. Maybe he should try changing his flight to this evening, maybe he should try to run after that cab and-

The phone in his hands rings and he quickly picks up.

“Hello?”

“Jihoonie!” It’s Jeonghan, the only reason he is in Paris in the first place, “did you make it to the city of love?”

“Yeah, and I wish I didn’t,” Jihoon mumbles in response, brushing his hair out of his face.

“Why? What happened?” Jeonghan does sound concerned, which might be a first.

“My Airbnb doesn’t exist.”

Silence. Jihoon just knows his friend is trying his hardest not to laugh. Oh, to be Yoon Jeonghann and always get entertained by his friends’ miseries.

“Jeonghan, this isn’t funny, okay? I’m about to call another cab and get my ass back home.”

“No! No, you can’t go home! You’re here and I’m going to make sure these will be two of the most amazing weeks of your life, alright? Look, instead of home, get your ass to my hotel. I think I might have a solution for your problem.”

When Jeonghan texts him the address and Jihoon hails another cab, he doesn’t dare to hope that his friend has an actual solution.

Perhaps Jihoon should have asked Jeonghan more thoroughly what kind of Hotel he works at. Because this looks very different to the building Jihoon just left. This is art, this is a fancy hotel in the middle of Paris’ most elegant streets, people in expensive clothes walking around Jihoon who has only a backpack and a guitar on his back. Jihoon gapes at the building, words he has read a million times suddenly filling his head, suddenly coming to life.

The façade of the hotel stands proudly on the bustling Parisian street, an exquisite testament to classical elegance and modern charm. The building’s cream-colored stonework is adorned with intricate carvings and ornate embellishments, each detail meticulously crafted to perfection. Above the entrance, a grand arch frames a large window, its glass shimmering in the soft light of the early evening.

Striped blue-and-white awnings shade the windows, their cheerful colors contrasting beautifully with the building’s stately architecture. Delicate wrought-iron balconies extend from the upper floors, offering glimpses of lush potted plants and inviting chairs, perfect for an intimate evening under the stars.

The entrance is framed by deep blue columns, and a passageway, warm light spills out from within, hinting at the luxurious interior that awaits guests. A pair of elegant lanterns flank the doorway, casting a gentle glow on the stone steps below.

Above the entrance, a crest adorned with elaborate scrollwork and a regal shield stands as a proud emblem of the hotel’s storied history. The name of the hotel is etched in graceful letters, a promise of the enchanting experience that lies within.

He doesn’t dare to move from where he is standing. Doesn’t dare to step foot into the hotel that looks exactly the way he had envisioned the one Tara would always read to him. Goosebumps erupt all over his skin and he swears there are tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. This must be a dream, a different reality, because there is no way Jeonghan works here.

But when Jihoon lets his eyes wander over the façade and into one of the magnificent windows - he spots his friend. Spots him on the phone behind the wooden counter, writing something down. He is here and this is real.

So, Jihoon slowly moves. One foot before the other, eyes glued to the entrance, nis heart beating in his chest. He feels silly, but he wonders if Tara had seen this as clear as he had back when she had read the book to him over and over again.

A welcome warmth meets Jihoon inside. It’s just as beautiful as the outside, he finds, his stomach turning over once more.

The lobby exudes a warm, inviting glow, courtesy of the golden chandeliers that hang from the high ceilings, casting a soft light over the polished marble floors. Rich hues of deep blue and soft gold dominate the color palette, creating a sense of opulence and sophistication. Jeonghan stands behind the mahogany desk, still talking on the phone, still not spotting Jihoon.

Jihoon, who feels so insanely out of place in his worn out jeans and the old leather jacket, with his hair unkempt and his eyebrow pierced. He moves over to the front desk, trying his hardest not to care about the stares he is getting from the people who clearly know he doesn’t actually belong here.

Jeonghan’s eyes light up when he sees him, a wide smile now on his lips as he holds up a finger as if to tell Jihoon to just be a little more patient. Jihoon carefully puts his hands on the top of the counter, his eyes roaming the lobby again.

“Of course, we can’t wait to have you back here again so soon, Miss Jones. Have a great day, bye bye!”

Jihoon’s eyes fly over to Jeonghan again when he hears the phone click.

“You’re actually here!” Jeonghan’s smile grows and he moves forward to give Jihoon probably the most awkward hug of his life over the counter. Jihoon laughs at that, patting his friend on the back.

“Well, it’s either this or the streets,” he smiles, “you never told me how… grant all of this is.” He gestures with his hands, as if to make sure Jeonghan knows he means the hotel. His blonde haired friend chuckles.

“Yeah, I thought it would come off like bragging if I did say so. I never would have heard the end of it from the boys.”

Jihoon nods. He knows exactly what Jeonghan means. Still. He can’t shake the feeling that if he had known about this… his stomach drops again.

“It’s beautiful.” Is all he eventually says, ignoring the worried look of his friend. Jihoon doesn’t know (and Jeonghan will never tell him) but there was a reason he had never mentioned this to him.

“That, it is,” Jeonghan finally responds, wiping the worry off his face and replacing it with a broad smile, “and you will get to live here for the next two weeks!”

“I will what?!” Jihoon’s eyes widen in surprise, “Jeonghan, I can barely pay rent at home, what do you-,”

“Obviously for free, dummy,” Jeonghan chuckles, “we have a free suite that has already been paid for, full price.”

Jihoon raises his brows, his hands feeling damp on top of the fancy counter.

“How come it’s free when it’s fully paid?” He asks.

“Well, there was supposed to be a wedding and…. now there isn’t one. They didn’t meet the requirements for the full or the partial refund. So, it’s free for the next two weeks since we can’t legally double book. You want it?”

It feels a little bit too good to be true, but Jihoon is in no place to turn down Jeonghan’s offer. The little voice in his head is trying to get to him, trying to make him speak the words to himself. It tries to get him to admit that this feels a lot like fate. Like a sign from above, from Tara. He doesn’t let it get to him. He’s not ready for that, and he’s certainly not melancholic enough for thoughts like this - even as a songwriter.

“I do, thank you, Han, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”

“Oh, most certainly sleep on the streets. Find a rat for a friend, or maybe a pigeon. They are crazy over here,” Jeonghan sings as he types something in the computer, scanning one of the key cards he takes from the drawer beneath him. Jihoon watches him with his heartbeat in his ears.

“Yeah, never been a big fan of rats. Or pigeons.” Jihoon dares to look around the lobby again, seeing all those people living their life, probably never worried about any of the things he worries about. He wasn’t lying when he said he has trouble paying his rent. Work hasn’t been easy these days.

“Aaaaand, here we go!” Jeonghan grins brightly, “your key, Mr. Lee.” He holds it mid air, pulling it back slightly as Jihoon is trying to grab it. The latter gives him a funny look. Jeonghan pouts as he thinks.

“That rhymes. “Your key, Mr. Lee”.” Jihoon closes his eyes for a second. Jeonghan chuckles happily.

“Watch out, I’m coming for your job.”

“Well, stop it and do yours instead,” Jihoon replies, allowing himself to grin back at his friend and take the card from his hands, “where is this suite you promised me?”

Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned what kind of suite this is. There is nothing Jihoon can do but stare at his surroundings with his mouth and backpack dropped, his guitar slowly sliding down his arm.

He is in the honeymoon suite. In retrospect, it makes sense. Jeonghan did say a wedding had been canceled.

There are three rooms. Right now, Jihoon is standing in the enormous entrance way. Golden and blue like downstairs, with wood accents, a big round table in the center of the room that connected all the different rooms, a centerpiece of flowers as beautiful as a summer day adjoining it. The walls are high and plastered with fine drawing, ornating through all of the hallway and over to the other rooms. Flowers and patterns so elegant Jihoon doesn’t know how to even describe them.

He feels out of place as much as he feels content. Letting his luggage rest on the floor, he moves into the first room. It’s a large sitting room, probably as big as his whole apartment back at home. Two couches of rich dark blue; cushions in different colors, some of them reminding Jihoon of the ocean, some of the sky, rich blues and light blues, and then there is the color of dawn, orange and yellow.

A majestic cremé colored carpet lays beneath the sofas, a glass table standing between them. On top of it magazine stacks and a glass tray holding what looks like whiskey and two glasses. High windows let the sun shine through and Jihoon spots a balcony leading around the living- and bedroom, holding his breath as he imagines himself out there softly strumming his guitar with a glass of whiskey or wine. His heart warms at the thought of finally having peace. Peace in the city his former lover had loved so much.

Next up he walks into the bedroom, a king sized bed greets him with white linen covers and pillows almost as big as his torso. It looks incredibly comfortable and he couldn’t wait to lay down and relax after the day he’s had. Golden curtains sway in the wind let in by an opened window, and the view is so poetic he almost feels himself tear up. Quickly, he looks away and instead finds his way into the master bathroom. It’s all held in gold as well, gold and white for a change, an enormous tub next to a high rain shower behind a glass wall. He sighs.

This is perfect. And he most definitely needs a shower right now.

So, he retraces his steps and grabs his luggage, setting everything down next to the bed and letting his guitar rest in the corner of the room. He decides to actually unpack his backpack that probably doesn’t even hold as much clothes as he probably needs for this trip (he did think he had a washer, though) and places everything in the large closet opposite the bed.

Finding himself humming, Jihoon allows a little bit more of that earlier peace to find place in his head and heart. Perhaps there is no reason for him to be worried - to look for something to go terribly wrong on this trip. Jeonghan is off work by now, and they’ll go catch dinner together, then he’ll come back here and maybe watch a movie, fall asleep to the sound of Paris outside his window. He doesn’t know what it sounds like just yet, but he’s already excited to find out.

Ridding himself of his clothes and feeling another threat of tears when he touches the towels hanging in the bathroom, Jihoon finally lets himself step into the shower and wash all of his worries away.

three; the mix-up

You don’t think your heart has ever beaten as fast as it does when you walk out the Charles de Gaulle airport and right into the arms of the driver Minghao has arranged for you. It’s not about the driver or the airport - but where you are.

Paris, the city of love, the city you feared to visit after what had happened with Jae. Yet, here you stand. Handing the driver your luggage and fishing for your phone in your purse, texting Minghao you already found your driver and are now on the way to the hotel. It all feels surreal and like you’re going to wake up any second.

Minghao forgave you without hesitation. Hugged you close to his chest and cried with you as you told him you were sorry and that he was right. You needed to do this - needed to face your demons. Together, the two of you had finalized the plans, popping open a bottle of expensive champagne and gossiping about Jaehyun and who he left you for. Little by little, you knew, you would find yourself again. And perhaps Paris was the perfect way to start.

The drive from the airport to the hotel was spent staring out the window. First you saw the highway leading from the airport to the city - greenery with trees on each side, all passing by you in a blurr. And then the beautiful streets of Paris. The fine architecture, the elegant bridges over the Seine. Heart warming at the sight of the city you dreamt about so much. Your first ever book had taken place right here, you had let your main characters kiss for the first time right there on that bridge leading from one side of Paris to the other, so close to the Louvre, to the glass pyramid you made them fight and make up all the same, just months apart. The sun is dazzling onto the dark water of the river, light dancing on the surface.

The driver comes to a stop in front of the hotel about 45 minutes after your departure from Charles de Gaulle. He holds open the door for you and helps you out of the car, smiling at you warmly and finally getting your bags out of the trunk. You thank him in some broken French and he nods at you before finding his way back to the driver’s seat.

One of the bell-boys spot you right when you walk in, their English sounding a bit like your French just now. You thank them and hand over your luggage, letting them help you carry it to the mahogany reception.

It is exactly like you remember it. You had never seen it in person, no. But you’ve found this hotel during your research, falling in love with it right away. It was a no-brainer that your honeymoon was to be held here.

You felt overwhelmed at the sight of the colors you had tried so hard to bring to paper, at the sound of soft music in the background, at the knowledge this was real and you were gonna stay here for two whole weeks.

Finally, you reach the counter where a small man stands and smiles up at you, his hair styled back.

“Welcome, how can I help you?” He says in perfect English and you place your hands on top of the counter.

“Hi,” you tell him your name, “I have a reservation.”

The man nods, looking up the reservation and finding it right away. Not marked as checked in, he notes and gives you another big smile.

“It is wonderful to have you, Miss. Will your husband be joining you?”

You expected as much. While it does hurt a little, having to say these next words, you know it’s a step in the right direction.

“I will be staying here alone, thank you.”

It is more beautiful than you could have imagined and it takes you a whole lot not to start crying. Your luggage gets brought up by the nice bell-boys and you thank them by tipping them each 50 Euros. Their smiles make the loss of the money worthwhile.

Once the door closes behind them, you dare to look around. See the beautiful entrance way in all its glory. See the living room in all it’s elegance, the high ceiling and windows, the smaller bedroom with a queen sized bed and a little reading nook, two ceiling high bookshelves standing around a comfortable looking loveseat. This must be what heaven looks like.

There is nothing that can wipe that smile off your face. Everything inside you tingles with happy excitement, moving to go look at the master bedroom with the on-suite bathroom you remembered staring at for at least five minutes when you booked the room. Imagining yourself in the enormous bathtub with a glass of champagne and classical music playing, letting all the stress and hurt from the past months fade away with the notes.

You don’t notice the closet and how there are clothes hanging inside it. Neither do you see the guitar case in the corner of the room. It fascinates you - how your mind tricks you into thinking you already hear the sound of water running, accompanied by humming along to a tune. Magnificent, what the mind can do.

When you finally reach for the doorknob to push it down, yanking the door open in one swift move, you realize perhaps your mind isn’t as magnificent as you thought.

Jihoon doesn’t notice you until you scream. He swirls around, which is inherently a foolish thing to do inside a wet, slippery shower, his eyes widening whe spots you, reacting to your scream by screaming himself. He realizes he’s naked and tries to find something to cover him, taking a step forward to reach for the towel and forgetting there is literally a glass wall separating you two.

Watching the man walk face-first into the glass and stumbling back, slipping on the wet floors and falling onto his ass would have made you laugh if it wasn’t inside your shower.

“What the hell!” You yell, turning around so you don’t look at the naked man any longer.

“Who are you?!” He yells back and you almost gasp.

“I should ask you that!”

The two of you need to yell because Jihoon has not yet managed to turn the shower off. Only now does he (while rubbing his hurting back) get up, struggling in the process, his hand finding the lever to turn off the water. His nose hurts and his ass and his back.

He moves out of the shower without running into glass this time, and wraps one of the soft towels around his waist.

“I’m Jihoon,” he finally says. You think you’re suddenly stuck in a really bad movie.

“That- you’re telling me your name?!” You turn around again, staring at the stranger with disbelief in your eyes.

“You did ask who I was, didn’t you?”

For a few moments the two of you continue to stare at each other. With every passing second you notice just how naked he is. Yes, there is a towel around him now, but you certainly did not… miss what was under there when you first walked in. As much as you don’t want to, your eyes scan the stranger, or well, Jihoon as he told you, stopping at his wet torso, the defined abs and the broad chest. He might be small in height but the rest of him seems… big.

You swallow.

“If you’re done checking me out, would you mind telling me why you’re in my room?”

Heat spreads through your body and right into your face, your eyes jumping from his torso to his face.

“Your room? I’m sorry, this is my room!”

While Jihoon did hit his head, he isn’t hurt enough not to understand that you’re most likely telling the truth. But Jeonghan had said the wedding was off… that you wouldn’t come here. So, why on earth, where you here?

“I- I can explain,” he begins, taking a step forward only for you to take a step backward. He holds out his hand as if to signal he wasn’t going to do anything.

“Go right ahead,” you hate that your voice is shaking, but it’s not like it is an everyday occurrence you find a beautiful stranger in your hotel room. If this wasn’t your actual life but a book this might have been sexy, might have led to the bed behind you finding the two strangers entangled, giving in to the sexual tension between them. Not that there was any of that in this situation.

“My friend, Jeonghan, he- he works here. He told me this suite wouldn’t be used and so I- well he asked me if I wanted to stay here for my trip after I told him my airbnb didn’t actually exist and I needed a, uh, a place to stay.”

You blink at him.

“He just- he gave you my honeymoon suite for free?

Jihoon swallows.

“Well…,” he thinks a little longer on his answer, “yes. Yes, he did.”

Telling the truth is probably his best bet.

You take a deep breath, turning away from him, clenching and unclenching your hands.

“As you can see, I am here. So, please, find somewhere else to stay.”

Jihoon saw it coming, obviously. It was all too good to be true. Without saying anything else, he walks over to the closet, ready to dress himself. Just that he didn’t quite calculate the new luggage now laying in front of the bed.

It all seems to happen in slow motion.

Jihoon tripping over your suitcase, his hands desperate trying to find something to hold on to before he falls. As if on reflex, you grab his arm, yanking him up so he doesn’t fall flatly on his face, just that you somehow manage to yank him so hard, you fall off balance. With a high pitched squeak, you fall onto the bed, Jihoon landing on top of you, his towel falling off in the process of the fall and save.

A naked man is on top of you, brown eyes wide with shock staring into yours. His hands somehow moved right to the sides of your head as if to catch himself from falling even further on top of you.

You can feel him. Feel his breath on your face, his skin on yours, his friend against your thigh. More heat rises, your face, your neck, your chest, your core. It’s bad. This shouldn’t be happening right now.

The two of you are so engulfed in the moment, you don’t even realize when the door opens yet again. When voices you would normally recognize without trouble seem to fail your ears this time. Jihoon’s face so close to yours - way too distracting.

“What the fuck?!”

Realization hits you at the same time as recognition and you gasp, your knee coming up, right into Jihoon’s lower parts, a yelp escaping him as he slides off the bed, hands now covering his private area and his face in a grimace of sheer pain.

You don’t even notice it. Not really, at least. Now it’s not his face that’s distracting you but the one you used to love for so many years.

“Jaehyun?” You whisper. And for a second you think he came here to make amends, to win you back, to get on his knees and apologize - then you spot her walking in, her eyes scanning the room with distaste.

“Who is that?” Jaehyun asks and you feel your blood boil.

“What are you doing here?” You ignore his question. He isn’t looking at you, but at Jihoon still on the floor.

“Oh, well, you know. We thought that it would be such a waste to let this suite go to waste,” it is her who answers you now, her deep red manicured hands now curling around Jaehyun’s biceps.

This bitch. Your blood starts boiling. Anger makes you see red.

“You brought her here?” You hiss at Jaehyun who has the decency to look guilty at least. You snort. Then, your eyes find Jihoon who’s still on the ground, Jihoon who is still naked. Jihoon, who desperately needs a place to stay.

God knows what makes you do what you do next. Desperation? Foolery? Who knows. But you move to help Jihoon up, grabbing the towel and holding it in front of his lower half.

“Y/N,” Jaehyun starts but you interrupt him.

“I see that we both had the idea to bring our new partners, or in your case old partner, to the suite we booked together, Jae. But since I was the one who paid for it, I would kindly ask you to leave.”

New partner. Jihoon needs a few seconds before he grasps what you just said.

“New- new what?” He mumbles, but you clear your throat to drown out his voice. Jaehyun’s face is priceless and you don’t want the bluff to be uncovered so quickly.

“That is your new boyfriend?” She asks, her brows raised. You can see that she’s checking him out - his abs, his cest, his pretty face. It makes your insides turn with hatred and disgust.

“Got a problem, Sierra?” You reply, your jaw tense. Her eyes only briefly meet yours.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m glad to see you finally got out of that moping phase, honey. It really didn’t suit you.”

Your grip around the towel tightens.

Slowly, Jihoon begins to understand what is going on. Who these people are. There was supposed to be a wedding and a honeymoon, but neither of these happened. You are the bride, or well, were supposed to be the bride. And he, the man you called Jaehyun and who had caused all the color to fade from your face, surely seems to be the groom who… never got to be the groom. And judging by the way you reacted to him and her, he guesses the reason the wedding didn’t happen was… the woman you’d called Sierra.

Blinking a few times, Jihoon realized that you were trying to convince him that he was your new boyfriend. That you had brought him here, to this hotel. It was ridiculous and straight out of a bad movie, but somehow… even if he didn’t know you, he felt like he should help you. And so, he let his arm wrap around your waist, catching you by surprise.

“I would kindly ask you to leave us be. You have done enough.”

Your head swirled to look at the man next to you. His stern face and his wet hair. Drops of water sliding down the side of his neck.

“How long has this been going on?” Jaehyun asks, ignoring Jihoon’s request. You turn to look at him again.

“That’s none of your business. You heard him, Jae. Leave. This isn’t your room anymore.”

Another beat of silence falls between the four of you. You try your best to ignore Sierra and cling onto Jihoon’s hand like it was the only saving grace. Perhaps that was true. Holding Jae’s gaze and trying to calm down your hurting heart, your wishes to throw something at him.

“Fine. I heard the honeymoon suite in the Hilton is much nicer than this one, baby.”

It is then that you see it. The rings on her finger. Your stomach drops. He married her. Oh, you’re about to throw up. Jihoon seems to notice your change of emotions, quickly clearing his throat.

“Great. Have fun in Paris then.”

He carefully takes the towel from your hand, wrapping it around him fully again. Then, he looks at you. The overwhelming urge to give you a hug is almost unbearable.

“Maybe,” Jaehyun said, “since we are both seeing other people and have moved on - we could grab dinner sometime this week. All of us.”

Jihoon sees the way your eyes shake at the suggestion. And he is just about to say no, that that’s not a good idea, when you push your shoulder back and hold your head high.

“What a lovely idea. We’d love to, isn’t that right, baby?” You interlock your fingers with Jihoon’s and he stares at you for just a second, before nodding.

“Sure,” he breathes out, looking at Jaehyun and Sierra.

It most certainly isn’t a lovely idea, he is well aware of that. This whole thing isn’t a good idea. But here he is. Holding the hand of a woman he barely met twenty minutes ago. A woman who has seen him naked, a woman who had his half hard cock against the inside of her thigh. A woman he had been closer to than any other in the last five years.

No, this wasn’t a good idea. This was an awful, horrible idea that could only go so, so wrong.

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