#So that when your party targets one of them they know the other is about to go sicko mode on their ass | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dadsbongos · 8 months ago

Text

virgins can have kinks too!

4.1 k words / summary - multi-chap posts of me experimenting with smut writing

warnings - piv, unprotected sex + creampies, virgin shiggy, college au, porn with minimal plot, partially clothed sex, BRIEF suicide joke, fem reader, 18+ mndi

~~~

If Tomura could go back and change any one thing in his life, it'd probably be how you two met.

Touya is messy enough to live with, now Tomura was forced to account for all the dirt-clodded shoes and unwashed hands of strangers coming into contact with his possessions. Those first hinting throbs of a headache were beginning to tease at Tomura’s pterion, and unfortunately his only access to water was blocked off by a thick weld of moist, musty athletes. Not that they intimidated Tomura, of course, they were just… an optional pain that he’d rather avoid. All their clunky terminology went over his head, and in his experience the people that Touya invites to his parties are not the inclusive type. What Tomura did understand was that they were perfectly posted up against their kitchen sink so as to be as inconvenient as possible; intending to verbally batter whatever unfortunate girl tried snagging from the fridge.

To be fair to them, though, tap water was Tomura’s backup plan. His initial objective was to sneakily steal a plastic bottle before returning to his room. All those were gone, which is sooo funny to Tomura because he’s certain that he just bought a forty pack yesterday.

Yet if Tomura were to point that out, Touya would just shift blame back onto his recluse roommate for knowingly leaving out water when he was inviting people over. So he doesn’t bother finding the stupid punk.

Similarly, he doesn’t so much as attempt either bathroom sink for water. One being annoyingly split off between the kitchen and Tomura’s room, and the other in Touya’s room. Touya’s room was a self imposed no-no for Tomura during their day-to-day, so he can’t fathom a reason to enter during the degenerate’s party. Judging by occasional thumps and ever shifting shadows beneath the gap, Tomura assumes the shared bath is in no better shape.

Right as he sets to retreat, his eyes zoom across their open floor plan -- all the way into the living room, honing in on two girls. One familiar from their shared mythology class, and the other entirely foreign. Himiko Toga is curled around the shoulders of the second girl, twirling strands of mystery girl’s hair with her long fingers.

Himiko greedily consumes all things cute, she chews them up and keeps them between her teeth to amalgamate with the next adorable target her sights set on. By the end of her life, she’ll probably puke up a cat-eared ball of pink glitter tied up with bows and proudly proclaim it to be her life’s work.

Currently, he’s watching Himiko chow down on someone that he, surprisingly, also finds cute. It's distracting.

Himiko lowers her hands until both arms are wrapped around your waist, nails burrowing into the material of your shirt. Her cheek presses against your shoulder, loose strands of blonde hair tickling up your neck.

Your neck strangely captured Tomura, then. Thick with your pulse and tissue, he wants to feel it pillow under his teeth. His lips are rough and chapped and suddenly all he can think about is how they’d feel scarring up the soft flesh of your jugular.

Himiko must be thinking that too because he watches as she turns cheek and digs her nose into the juncture of your neck.

Oh.

Tomura blinks himself free of the stupor and shakes out his hands, then wiping them dry against his pants. He didn’t think Himiko could actually hold down a relationship.

“Whatcha starin’ at, boss?”

Voice so raggedy and low, almost a staticky purr at Tomura’s back, he can instantaneously pick out who it is.

“Did you know Himiko had a girlfriend?”

“Huh?” Touya steps forward, eyes narrowed out into the crowd, “Where? I can’t see shit.”

“I told you to just get contacts, moron,” Tomura grumbles, then pointing as inconspicuous as he can (not very at all) towards their mutual friend still slithered around the unknown girl.

“Kid, that’s not her girlfriend.”

Tomura looks up at Touya, glaring through tangled, powder blue bangs, “You’re joking, right? I’m not stupid.”

“Seriously, it’s not,” Touya snickers, “Why? You interested?” when Tomura can only silently seethe up at the man, Touya grins: a sight more disturbing than reassuring, his teeth are too big and prominent, the bags under his eyes crinkle up weirdly, and it reeks of selfish glee. Touya jams out his index and middle fingers, waggling the index first, “Which one? Blondie?” then his middle, “Or new girl?”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” Tomura knocks down the man’s hand with a disgruntled scoff, “You’re mental.”

“We’ve been friends awhile now, no?” Touya stubbornly returns to pointing, “I’ve never seen you get worked up over a girl, it’s funny. So, which one?”

“It’s funny?”

“I’ll set you up.”

Admitting to the fact he’s got a beating heart and libido is so embarrassing, which leads to Tomura halfheartedly muttering, “If I had a thing for Himiko, I wouldn’t have told you first.”

“You’re cute,” Touya quips, reaching up to pinch Tomura’s cheek between black-painted nails -- pointedly ignoring the annoyed huff and swat resulting. He steps around Tomura to venture through the jungle of his guests, “I’m on it.”

Touya is one of the best, and worst, people that Tomura has ever met. Touya is bothersome and rude and sometimes downright narcissistic, but also headstrong. Touya decided the day his dad bought him this house that he wanted to room with the dork from his freshman year geography lecture. Touya decided that Tomura and him were best friends when Tomura helped him pass their aforementioned geography class. Touya decided last year that the pair should bleach their hair together for a laugh. Touya decided just now to be Tomura’s wingman.

His singlemindedness pairs almost lethally well with his sense of loyalty. It almost made Touya seem… admirable.

Tomura internally gags over the thought, quickly refocusing on real life where Touya is leading Himiko (who is leading her mystery friend via deathgrip on your hand) back towards the kitchen.

Himiko giggles upon seeing Tomura, “You thought we were dating?”

Nevermind. Touya is just as insufferable as he was three years ago badgering Tomura for his lecture notes.

“Be nice. You’re so touchy, I’m sure everyone thought we’re together,” mystery girl squeezes Himiko’s hand, then smiling over at Tomura, “But I’m totally single.”

Oh.

Touya’s the most direct, masterminded person Tomura’s ever met.

All that masterminding goes to utter waste if Tomura can’t wake up and relearn social cues, though. Touya jabs an elbow into Tomura’s gaunt side, ribs aching from the blow.

“Okay,” Tomura nods dumbly, swallowing the unease trapped in his throat and once again drying his hands against his sweatpants.

“If you couldn’t tell,” Touya yanks Himiko into his side and out of your hold, “So is he.”

Himiko whines and reaches out as Touya drags her off, the pair slinking somewhere deep into the crowd of thrashing, bumbling bodies.

“You don’t look much like the party type,” you hum, maybe a little unhelpfully. Tried and true method of flirting, however, is being just a tad mean. A less fluffy version of the tragic come here often? line is sure to crack this man’s icy exterior.

“My roommate,” Tomura flings a thumb over in the direction Himiko was hauled off, “He’s the delinquent, I just share the space,” suddenly the insides of his sweatpants are too hot, and so is the flimsy white shirt on his chest, “I just wanted water.”

Sweltering air beats from the center of his chest down to his ankles, even tickling up his neck. The longer you stare at him, the hotter his body feels. Scorching up his face too, burning away layers of dried, ungroomed skin to reveal every muscle twinge. Tomura wants to both comb his hair back and hide behind the strands (most of all, though, he wishes he’d bothered brushing it whatsoever before making his venture). Being so trapped between either option makes his brain short circuit until he’s, rather bashfully, tucking hair behind his ear like some blushing ingenue.

Thankfully you don’t appear troubled by the sight, instead grinning wider and even laughing at his admission (Tomura likes your smile: lips giving prominence to flattering teeth, balls of your cheeks plumping, and lashes fluttering. Definitely more lovely than Touya’s). You fold your arms, “Poor thing. You probably don’t wanna be stuck out here, huh?”

Insecurity visibly crawls along the downward twitch of your lips, your brows furrowing. Tomura stares at you, committing each divot and angle of your body to memory. By the time he’s finished, he realizes you’re waiting for him to respond.

“Yeah…” he mutters lamely, scratching at the crackled film of skin over his chelidon, then smoothing a thumb into the depression as his heart hammers up his throat -- pressing a disarray of words against his palate. They linger by his uvula, gagging him into stunned silence, until he can finally choke out an uneven, “Do you wanna go back to my room?”

As soon as the question was in the air, buzzing unattended between your faces, Tomura wanted to claw out his eyeballs. Maybe rip out his tongue, too. Such gore would surely erase any memories of his implying he thought he had a chance with you. That was far preferable to the disgust about to cross your face.

Except, that disgust never comes.

Alternatively, you nod, “Sounds fun!”

Tomura kept his area tidy enough. A stack of bowls, two cups, three empty Dr. Pepper cans, and a single Maruchan ramen cup on his desk. A lump of clothes he’s procrastinated washing carefully lines the edge of his bed. But that was all, really.

He wanted his room to be livable, and if he felt so childish as to be proud of it then he liked the sight of his uncluttered carpet. How easily he could make the trek from bed to computer to door (and, of course, the desultory detours to his bookcase or closet) without tripping on trash or abundantly strewn clothes. If he felt further inclined to childishness, Tomura even congratulated himself on maintaining a room cleaner than Touya’s.

Even despite the stacked bowls and cups on his desk and emptied soda bottles cluttering his desk legs.

None of that is sufficient anymore. He’s inspecting your face like it’ll burst open with an alien race for any sign of judgment. Cautiously, Tomura kicks a tangle of loose shirts under his bed while you’re distracted ogling his decorated shelves.

“You like Omori?” your question startles him from kicking a pair of boxers under his bed.

“Huh?”

You’re pointing at a lineup of four acrylic stands -- not the complete set, Tomura only burdened his wallet with purchasing the main party over including Basil and Mari -- on the top shelf of his bookcase, “Omori, right? I didn’t think you’d like that type of game.”

“Do I not look like I would?” he doesn’t know why that inference hurts his feelings. Shamefully, he cards his fingers through his knotted hair, slotting more locks behind his ear, “I played it a long time ago. Now I’m too busy for anything else story-driven, so I’m mostly on League. Or Overwatch if I feel like killing myself.”

“You don’t look like you like suffering, I guess is what I meant,” you draw your bottom lip up between your teeth (he hopes it doesn’t sting, he wants to kiss it better if it does), “But knowing you play Overwatch…”

“I try to avoid it,” Tomura prays his self-grooming is subtle, or at least lowkey enough for you to not notice as you continue browsing his various knick knacks and figures, “You game?”

“Eh, RPGs usually. I don’t like working with others when I play, it makes me nervous to screw up.”

“That’s cute,” he doesn’t mean to say it aloud, honestly. Two measly words small enough to slip through his pursed lips. Two words big enough to ruin his night.

“Think so?” but you’re… smiling again.

“I guess,” Tomura’s eyes shift quickly over to his pillows. Are they soft enough? Should he flip them over? What the hell is fluffing, and does it actually do anything?

“Are you usually this shy? Or am I special?”

Not often does Tomura feel truly helpless, but your incessant teasing pairs lethally with your fluttering lashes and painted lips. He wishes he were more accustomed to conversing with strangers, especially pretty strangers that were interested in him. Part of him wants to believe that if you’re attracted to him now, you’ll be stubborn enough to stick out whatever cluelessness he bumbles out -- but he doesn’t. He simply cannot bring himself to buy that.

“You’re making me nervous, like I’m about to puke.”

“Flattering,” you join Tomura on his bed, soft knee nudging his, “I hope you don’t. It’d kinda ruin the mood.”

He’s terribly unable to keep the casanova impersonation up, though, “What mood?”

You throw your head back and laugh. Hearty and full and so mortifying for him, worse are your next words, “You know why people go into private rooms at parties, right?”

“Uhh…”

“You do. I do, too. That’s why I came back here, you know? If you only wanna talk, that’s fine -- you’re fun to just talk to! But I came back here ‘cuz I want to have sex with you, if you want to, too.”

Tomura can feel that dreaded heartbeat climbing up his chest and into his gullet again.

“You’re forward…”

You shrug, “I know what I want.”

Tomura claws at his sweatpants, chest aching and fingers numb from how your eyes are zeroed on him. He nods slowly, racketing another giggle from your chest -- you lean closer, your hand brushes his.

“Yeah?” you coax a hand around Tomura’s far shoulder, swiveling him to face you.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan gurgles the sound of his reply, you hate it.

From the shape of his lips, you can make out his agreement. With no specific intent and only a general sense of lust to guide him, Tomura leans into your touch. Snatching his hands, you shuffle his palms under your shirt, sifting the flesh up your warm belly until they’re cupping your tits. He squeezes blindly, teetering closer along his mattress. Finally, you strip off your top -- then greedily going for Tomura’s as well. He contently allows it, even lifting his arms to grant the removal.

“You’re so pretty,” Tomura noses at your neck, hot puffs of air warming your skin, “Can’t believe you’re actually here.”

His hands are soft from a lax life, if slightly clammy with nerves, and they feel nice squeezing around your hips. Tomura dips his pelvis downward, keeping your thighs scooped snug around him -- bonus for the momentary relief of pressure against his aching groin. His fingers bow beneath the waistband of your skirt until your own are tethering his in place.

“Can I leave the skirt on?” your thighs tighten around Tomura’s slim waist, you tilt your head so your soft lips press against his cheek, “Its kinda hot. To me.”

Tomura rolls his shoulders, whole body shuddering at the request. He nods with clenched eyes, digging his nails into your skin -- he likes your idea more than he can put into words (granted, his tongue may as well be superglued to his teeth right now).

“I can do that,” he manages to scrape out, drawing his fingers down the bunched material of your skirt and up your thighs, “Can I take these off?”

“Please,” you cant your hips up for Tomura to yank off your panties, he bundles them in one hand and stows the other where the material once laid. You swear you hear him whimper at the contact.

His fingers dance up your slit, gentle massaging that intensifies upon introduction of his thumb on your clit. Tomura drops your underwear off the side of his bed and uses the freed palm to work off his sweatpants, but just before he can snap the drawstring -- he stops completely.

“Wait,” he pants, “Hang on. Don’t move.”

Tomura runs out like he’s caught fire, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him and leaving you splayed on his mattress.

He returns with a fist curled around something, and determination written in the lines of his face. Replacing himself between your thighs, Tomura hides the contents in his hand under the pillow beneath you. Before you can shoot any questions, he’s lifting your skirt and lowering his chest to the bed.

As if he can sense the curiosity burning away your mood, Tomura hurriedly buries his face in your cunt.

One gasp is stuttered short by another, Tomura flicks his tongue inside you with a groan. Pulling back only to spit on your clit, the liquid bubbling down your slit until it catches on his prodding fingertips -- your thighs jolt around his shoulders at the act. Middle finger worming into you with ease, Tomura’s burdened by the vestige of Touya’s hand on his shoulder and husks into his ear.

Yeah, condoms are in the top drawer. You need advice?

He’d been uneasy initially, nodding uncertainly, but Tomura’s grateful now.

Just as he’d been instructed, Tomura curls his middle finger and screws the pad up until- your knee knocks into his skull and he keens at the rough treatment.

“S-sorry,” you stammer out, chest arching up.

Bypassing your apology, Tomura flattens his tongue on your clit and slithers a second finger inside you. Surely by tomorrow, his arm will be sore with the work he’s pushing through, but he’s equally sure it’s worth it as you clamp around him and seize.

Strumming your gspot in time with your clit, Tomura loses himself in the thought of how your snatch would feel around his cock -- grinding against the marshmallow mattress below to relieve the pressure. Your only relief is how he greedily sucks your clit; he lets you grab his hair with both hands and roughly tug him to and fro. He lets you fuck his face, eats it up in earnest.

Prying your thighs back from his ears, Tomura shoves his sweatpants down and reaches under your head. Pulling back a foil square that crinkles with each nervous shake of his hand. Tomura’s plain black boxers soon crash to the floor as well.

“Hey,” your voice pipes up meekly, a little slurred after your orgasm. Drowsy eyes half-lidded and even sweeter on him, “Can you, uh…”

Tomura’s burning hot, flushed and vaguely sticky; bangs slickened against his face with sweat and cum. His breathlessness axiomatic of how little composure he could maintain, “What?”

“Don’t…” a shyness that now seems bizarre overtakes you, your fingers curl into his palm and unfurl the condom from his grasp, “You shouldn’t… I wanna feel you.”

He blinks down at you vapidly. So stupidly blank he's immediately ashamed of himself for blanching at your plea.

“You want it too, right?” you reach up and paw at Tomura's shoulders, “You wanna fuck me raw?”

“Uh-huh,” again dumb.

Tomura spares that response no reconsideration, instead preoccupied by holding your thighs open to nudge his cock into you. His tip bobs at your clit in the first few jerks, but his thinly construed patience is rewarded on the third attempt. You tug on his hair as Tomura humps into your sex.

He whines upon feeling that first squeeze and suck of entering your cunt, his pelvis itching up against your clit with every thrust. Blunt nails carve into the fat of your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer -- Tomura’s cock carves deep into your gut, hot and heavy. Chapped lips sear up the length of your neck, his chest squashing against yours, he teeths at the lump of your pulse and lathes the thumping point with his tongue. Budding his knees right beneath your ass, Tomura burdens the tops of his thighs against yours. Then wrapping your waist with both arms, continuing to suck your soft skin between his teeth.

Tomura gasps as the warmth of your hands finds his back, rolling lower and lower until you’re actively pushing him closer. He likes this -- loves it, even. He’s horrified to know he could’ve been having sex his entire college career and simply didn’t.

He’s further horrified that perhaps he’ll never have sex again when you leave (but mostly, he’s finding that he just doesn’t want you to leave).

“Be my girlfriend,” delirious, he’s babbling into your ear, whining and shuttering and smothering your body with his, “Be my girlfriend…! Wanna fuck you every day-- need you every day. So fucking warm and soft, all perfect for my cock,” Tomura pulls up from your neck to kiss the thin stretch of skin over your collarbones and treading to your breasts, “Like you’re made for taking it.”

What you want is to have the mental cognition to respond to him kindly, but what you have is a mushy brain and a flourishing climax scorching through your body. Grey matter melting into the bowl of your skull as Tomura kisses and pants into your tits.

“Tomu’-!” is all you can manage to squeal, nails digging jagged red lines down the man’s back.

“You cumming?” he reaches between your bodies to incise the pads of his fingers across your sodden clit.

A final push into your sensitive body, the attention spiking your head back into his pillow. Faintly, through the rush of dopamine pumping through your extremities to where your hanging mouth is expelling wanton wails of Tomu’! and yes, God! and cumming!, you can hear Tomura. You can hear him chuckling low and deep with ecstasy, “So pretty when you cum. Squeezing me so tight, too. You like me that much?”

He whines unexpectedly, wrenching both hands to your hips and branding the imprint of his calloused palms there.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he grits his teeth, scratchy throat puking up pulpy, disjointed moans of your name and fuck, fuck fucks, “I’m gonna cum,” he latches onto your tit, muffling his pathetic mewls as your legs lock him in your cunt (trembly and weak as they may be), “Cumming, cumming- ! Fuck!”

Stilling above you, Tomura chokes out soft breaths and murmurs of appreciation as he cums. Sincerely thanking you as his spend paints your insides. Collapsing on you once his balls are empty. Tomura barely has the wherewithal to roll onto his side in order to avoid overheating you under him.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan regains your attention, but this time it doesn’t seem too bad. You can’t find yourself to be very annoyed, even when the music pumping from outside vibrates Tomura’s bedroom door. Above those sounds, the one you appreciate most is the soft pelting of Tomura’s breath against your neck; damp with a mixture of sweat and his saliva, and sore from his incessant teething.

“Did you mean it?” you’re probably being mean, asking such a layered question so immediately after his release.

“About?” his voice is raggedy, sharp to a bladepoint -- if you couldn’t see the dazed, awestruck film over his lidded eyes, you’d mistake him as trying to be rude.

“Me being your girlfriend. Did you actually mean that? Or did your dick have the braincell?”

“Oh,” Tomura pushes onto his elbows, arms shaking, his hair drops over his face and this time you’re the one to brush it behind his ear. Despite cumming in you minutes ago, he blushes at the gesture and looks at your bruising neck rather than your eyes, “I guess. I don’t have a car, so I can’t drive you around for dates.”

“I can take the bus, you know,” you laugh at how Tomura’s face suddenly sours at your words.

“As if I’d let my girlfriend take the bus by herself. Do you know how many freaks go on that thing?”

“‘Cuz you’d know.”

“Yeah, I’m one of them,” the giddiness rising in his chest over your giggling at his jab quickly overtakes his face, cheeks burning with a proud smile. Tomura hides his face in your neck, “I guess it’s up to you.”

“It's up to me if you were serious or not?”

Quietly, he hums, then rasps out something you could construe as a joke if you didn’t care so much about how he felt, “I only open to begging in the sheets. Being desperate to date the first girl I fuck is so pathetic.”

Which is so insane to you because you met this man only a few hours ago.

A broiling affection that builds between the slats of your ribs, bricking off your lungs and heart just to cook them up hot and gooey and primed for the man on your chest. At least Tomura’s burgeoning crush could be reasoned away with the fact he’s a recent ex-virgin (not like you, with visitors running rarer than Tanzanite).

Still fluttery and alight with the wash of your orgasm, you give your heart the braincell and nod sluggishly, “Yeah. I want you to be serious.”

Decidedly, you spare no mind how you two barely know each other.

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #tomura smut #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut #virgcore shiggy

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impactrueno · 2 months ago

Note

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice beetlejuice #lydia deetz #beetleposting #beetlebabes #<- added for those who would prefer to not see this stuff but i didn't intend this to be a shippy post #spoilers: it's very one sided. but it IS all from his POV so you can kinda expect him to be...him #if you're a shipper who's just checking the tag then uhhh hi! i feel like i'm intruding lmao

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retrievablememories · 1 year ago

Text

cherry bomb | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.

genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au

word count: 7.1k

warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!

a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 2

CHERRY BOMB

don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.

virgins get in free!

THIS FRIDAY

NOV 3, 20XX

[address here]

"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"

"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."

camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."

"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”

“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”

“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."

"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.

"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."

your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.

she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”

"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."

camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."

you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."

FRIDAY, NOV 3

taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.

the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.

the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.

you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.

"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.

"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."

"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."

well, you won't argue that.

you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.

you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.

"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.

you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.

"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"

the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.

"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.

jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"

"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.

"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"

"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.

jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."

unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.

but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.

he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.

"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.

knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.

“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.

jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.

jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.

“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.

he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.

you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.

"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”

jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.

jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.

“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”

with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.

he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”

you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.

as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.

jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.

your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”

you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.

taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.

the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.

the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.

the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.

jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”

“wh-what?”

“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”

it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.

you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.

when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.

“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”

jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”

you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.

then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.

having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.

“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.

jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”

jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.

“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”

this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.

jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.

after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.

…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.

“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.

but now’s not the time to get delusional.

“no. i want more.”

jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."

“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.

you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.

you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.

you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.

“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.

“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.

you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”

sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”

he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.

his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.

“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.

“no, i—let’s go all the way.”

jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”

when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say breathlessly.

it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.

“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.

“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”

jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”

he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.

your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”

your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”

you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.

“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.

“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.

"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.

his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.

his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.

“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.

jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.

jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.

you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"

"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"

you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.

"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.

"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.

jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.

the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”

you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…

the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.

the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.

to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.

you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.

the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.

a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.

you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.

you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.

thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.

he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.

when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.

"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."

"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.

"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"

"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."

“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"

unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.

sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.

you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.

“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.

the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.

the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”

“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.

“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.

you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.

for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.

you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”

“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?”

“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.

there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.

“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.

after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.

“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.

“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”

nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”

changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

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jethrowest · 9 months ago

Text

let me see you stripped down to the bone…

- stripped by depeche mode

congratulations! you’ve been hired as homelander’s entire glam squad! what an opportunity! now let’s try real hard not to let the fumes get to you, okay?

pairing : homelander/afab reader

word count : 5.6k

warnings : homelander in and of himself, toxic workplace environment, something akin to stockholm syndrome, fingering, smut. 18+, mdni

special thanks to @blindmagdalena @sehtoast @homeb0ys and @clockworkzeppelin for letting me scream at you about this!

writing tag

gif credit

divider credit

Homelander is an asshole.

That doesn’t bother you much. You’ve dealt with plenty in this field, which means you’ve learned how to make life easier for all parties. That particular learning curve includes when to stand out and blend in, at times concurrently depending on what variety of asshole they happen to be.

As a whole, the makeup artists and hairstylists at Vought take care of The Seven and go where they’re needed. And as a cosmetologist, you were hired to provide both services for Homelander and Homelander only, which you consider to be one of the most prestigious stamps one could add to their professional passport.

Before you became official, you were colorfully threatened by a Ms. Ashley Barrett, who, after the fact, had no qualms throwing you into the lion’s den to figure your own shit out.

In no uncertain terms were you told that if you fucked any part of this up, your sparkling resume would look best as something to sit her smooth, bare ass on while getting fucked on top of her desk. No lube or protection. It would then be tossed exactly like her salad.

Not an image you could have ever predicted crossing your mind. Honestly, you should have stopped her right there and walked your happy little ass out of her office toward pastures that might have not been greener (you were being handsomely compensated), but certainly not as toxic. While the red flags were a color you couldn’t quite ignore, you were also curious about why they stood out so much more than they did regarding previous employers.

None of this is to say you live under a rock. Anyone who has access to the internet is ambushed daily by these Supes’ personal lives. Homelander’s track record as far as choice in partners went hadn’t been ideal, so you understand that made him less popular at the time. That of course has nothing to do with you or your capabilities.

You opt to wear gray-colored glasses, seeing everything with a neutral blend of black and white. As much as possible anyway.

Nevertheless, curiosity killed the cat. But hopefully not your career.

The first day was awkward to say the least. Immediately, you knew you weren’t going to like your coworkers.

Glints of sympathy changed how they perceived you. A target, whether they intended for this to happen or not, was nailed to your forehead, and it made them buzz around you like avid, greedy wasps keen on seeing how rapidly the honeybee will be brutalized. You didn’t much care for going cross-eyed while staring at that target whenever you crossed paths. They didn’t know you, yet because of who you were working under, deemed you helpless. They didn’t give you a chance to establish yourself before branding you a victim.

Why should you respect them?

Small talk wasn’t entertained either, as their judgment tarnished any future encounters. They ostracized you once you showed no interest in engaging with them. That didn’t disappoint you. You weren’t here to make friends.

You do wonder how those before you fared: if they were jaded when they arrived or if they couldn’t help but succumb to the pressures of being at the top rung of a very unstable albeit sought after ladder.

Ms. Barrett quickly introduced you to Homelander, her parting gift before leaving the two of you alone.

You weren’t completely nervous in his presence. He wasn’t any different to you than the other celebrities you’d worked on, except he could rip you in half like a piece of paper if he was so inclined. But he’s the hero of this country’s story, so really, you should have nothing to worry about.

His demeanor, you noted, suggested arrogance, annoyance, and boredom. All things you’re used to. So you offered your hand to shake, which he eyed with a slightly upturned nose before grabbing, told him it was a pleasure to meet him and got straight to business.

Looking back, he was clearly expecting more out of you. Maybe not a display as excessive as getting on your knees and professing your undying love, but close enough. Somewhere in the middle, perhaps.

Part of you believes he might have also counted on fear. To you, he’s not anything or anyone unknown. Another big name in a fancy suit with impossible demands.

You were given a routine to follow and products to use. You did as you were instructed and found the process to be simple and, as Homelander’s expression revealed, uninspiring.

While you were utilizing a face brush to apply powder, he must have decided he was done enduring your lack of enthusiasm, because he suddenly asked, “What are you wearing?”

You stopped for a split second, no longer than, and continued. “The name of my clothing designer, you mean?”

He scoffed, waving his gloved hand at you, almost knocking the applicator you held to the ground. “No, your perfume. What are the top notes?”

You laughed and that seemed to confuse him. “Why, you want a bottle?”

“I don’t like it.” He sniffed sharply and cleared his throat. “Smells like you should be on the corner selling your used body parts.”

Ding ding ding. Alarm bells and red flags galore. You enjoy a challenge, however, and are a bit of a masochist, so you persevere.

“Well, what doesn’t smell like a cheap hooker to you? I’ll start wearing that instead.”

He cocked a brow, studying you. Trying to figure out if you were being serious or mocking him.

“It’s your first day.” A warning. “Are you on your best behavior, or can you do better?” He leaned forward in his chair, forcing you backward. “You should be working harder to prove yourself. Prove your worth.” He sat back again and shrugged. “Or maybe you really are worth as much as that dumpster juice you doused yourself in.”

At this point, he more than likely envisioned your happy little ass getting offended and storming out of the room. Breaking down, sobbing. Questioning why he was being so rude. One of those or, better yet, a nifty combination.

You’ve heard worse, unfortunately for him. Not always directed at you, but that doesn’t matter. You can handle it.

“You’re absolutely right,” you stated calmly, folding your arms across your chest. He looked at you with pretentious, petulant intrigue. “It is my first day, and I want to make a good impression. Which is why I’m asking you what you would like me to wear so I can continue to keep that good impression intact and, as our professional relationship develops, stay on top of it.”

Homelander’s mouth twitched. He sighed deeply and slouched in his seat, staring at the wall to the left of him. Then he deigned to cast his gaze back at you, resting his cheek on his index and middle finger. He tapped the arm rest with his other hand.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever.” A pause followed that lasted longer than necessary. Were you meant to guess? “Just wear something, I dunno, less. If you would have done your homework like a good little peon, you’d know I have super senses. Highly developed. Can you even imagine what that entails?”

Finally, he freed the canvas you were nearly finished with, and you flicked the soft bristles across the bridge of his nose. You smiled, more to yourself than him.

Felt rather on the nose, as the saying goes.

He didn’t comment on your grin. You didn’t give him time to. But he did huff like you were being obtuse on purpose.

“I can try. And my imagination is giving me some less-than-ideal scenarios,” you replied. Another pause. At least he was letting you do your job again.

You don’t know what compelled you to keep going, but something about his lack of a real answer made you carry on. “Do you have a favorite flower or baked good? Maybe a spice?”

Homelander almost glared up at you. You say almost because, for whatever reason, it didn’t seem like he was directing that harshness at you, though former words and actions proved otherwise. Something inside, perhaps. Or outside of this enclosed space.

“I already told you what to wear. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You took the hint and remained quiet the rest of your session. Soon, you were done.

As you were packing and tidying up your station, he took it upon himself to stand behind you. He lingered over your shoulder, watching the scene play out like he was director and star and you were barely an ant on the sidewalk he acknowledged before squashing.

The heat radiating off of him was impossible to dismiss, a wall of it barricading your backside. He clasped his fingers underneath his cape and inched closer. You thought he was as close to you as he could get without touching you. He was that warm.

When you glanced up, he was staring at you through the mirror. As absurd as it was, you managed to get chills. Goosebumps broke the surface of your skin.

“Fresh chocolate chip cookies. Straight out of the oven. Like mom used to make.” He flashed an unnerving smile before turning to exit.

From there on out, even after you bent to his will and found a gourmand scent that matched what he described, Homelander tested you. Your work ethic, clothing choice, eating habits, and most of all, patience.

Your parents would ask how you were liking your job, how it was working alongside the Supes- not to mention the most famous of all- and you’d lie through your teeth. You felt you had no choice, Ashley’s threat ringing in your ears.

Resume, bare ass, tossed salad...

Oh yeah, it’s going great! They’re all super flexible. I couldn’t be happier!

At least that pun made you feel a little better about hiding the shame of what you’ve allowed yourself to take on.

This was all in the first few weeks. It started to get a little easier after that, which is surprising considering more was added to your to-do list.

You should have moved on before starting. But, for whatever asinine reason, you didn’t.

Every time you go back to your apartment and assess your appearance in the bathroom mirror, you wonder who’s making who up here. He’s changing your looks more than you are his. You’re like his human doll.

You’ve put up with a lot over the years, but this takes the cake and shoves it in your face. As fucked as it is, the flavor is growing on you. Like a fungus. Growing, nonetheless.

You can’t stop thinking about him.

It’s innocent enough, you try convincing yourself. Making sure you have the right outfit laid out the night before, the right lunch (no onions or fish or anything “freaky”!), etc. He is your superior, after all. You shouldn’t be viewing him in any other light.

He’s the most frustrating aspect of your existence these days, but he’s also the one you’re around the most. His penchant for workplace gossip and how unintentionally funny he is tends to make him palatable, which has regrettably become an understatement.

Months go by. You’ve witnessed how alone he truly is. How he has nothing outside of performing his tricks on Vought’s all-encompassing stage. And when he begins asking for your input, starts doing things for you that are so blatant it’s perplexing, you find your stress and vexation melting into cumbersome fascination.

It’s embarrassing. You don’t have the courtesy of enough time to dwell on your feelings toward the situation either, from beginning to whatever end you might be met with. You suppose that could be beneficial in the long run.

It also hits you when you least expect it; when you really don’t want it to.

Your body doesn’t wait until you finally have a moment alone. It decides, while you’re helping Homelander with his skincare routine that he insisted upon because you know more than these vacuous corporate douche-bags, to heat up without warning and slither from your head to your heart until it grasps you unfairly between your legs.

You try not to step into momentary paralysis. You understand to what extent his powers reach. It’s not like he doesn’t go on and on about them. About himself.

Whatever he notices, it’s not right away. A palpable tension fills the air between the two of you eventually. But it takes a more significant amount of time than you would have anticipated to permeate the natural flow of things.

Fuck, you can’t even be safe inside here, where your thoughts, whatever they may be, are yours. You can’t even have yourself. He has every part of you, and you are willingly relinquishing that control.

Your evening, once you can have it, consists of combing over every decision you’ve made leading up to this strange, disorienting space you find yourself occupying. All it does is leave you exasperated in a much different way than before and with an unsettling observation (or hallucination):

Was that the tail end of the American flag outside your window?

You are unacceptably late.

Rushing around, you throw on the first top and bottoms you see from your closet and spritz some perfume on your neck and wrists. You don’t check your phone. You’re afraid of what will pop up on your screen. And, frankly, you don’t have the time.

Your only option for transportation is the subway, as you’re sure the special vehicle from Vought is long gone. Why would they wait for someone like you, even if you’re practically Homelander’s personal assistant? One of his only friends. You doubt he has more than Black Noir, and that isn’t as perfect as it appears to the casual viewer.

You dread what kind of explosion you’re without a doubt walking into once you show your miserable ass up. You’re going to smell like everyone on this train. He’s going to go ballistic.

The question remains: why are you continuing to put yourself through this? It’s not your circus, yet somehow, the monkeys have become your liability.

You know, deep down, what keeps you going back. It’s simply too ridiculous to admit aloud.

Making your way past security, hurriedly presenting your badge, you realize you forgot to brush your teeth, or at the very least, gargle some mouthwash. You thank your lucky stars when you open your purse to a pack of gum tucked away in one of the compartments.

It will have to do.

When you open the door to Homelander’s dressing room, you see a couple of employees standing near the counter where the bag of supplies has been opened and rifled through, looking like they might soil themselves, a frantic Ashley, and an extremely pissed off Homelander in the middle of it all.

Reflexively, you cringe. You attempt to wipe any trace from your features, but it’s too late. Ashley is glaring daggers at you and Homelander can hardly bring himself to look in your direction. The others don’t matter to you. They never did.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I know there’s no excuse-”

“You’re goddamned right, there’s no excuse! I don’t give a shit if god and his whole fucking choir of angels came down from heaven and divinely called you to give them a makeover! What were you thinking?!”

You’re about to answer, though you comprehend her query is more or less rhetorical. She interrupts your slightly open mouth while gesturing wildly, proving your point.

“Oh, that’s right! You weren’t thinking at all, were you?! But I do believe you’ve thought long and hard about what’s at stake here. And you know damn well we at Vought don’t tolerate this kind of sloppy behavior. Not to mention the way you’re dressed! It’s adding insult to injury!” Her hand swipes at the air, the length of your outfit, and you glance down, recognizing how comically mismatched you are. Her correct observation affects you more than it would have months prior, stinging your ego- one of the many things that’s been shelved in order to accommodate the person who won’t even grace you with a glance.

A dramatic groan cuts short any further commentary from the redhead, perpetually stretched thin between her absurd duties.

“Jesus Christ, Ashley, why are your big fucking horse gums still flapping?” Homelander’s booming voice slices through your mind like a jarring, dense migraine. He pinches his brow between middle finger and thumb, eyes closed. “I want you and Tweedledee and Tweedledum t’get the fuck out. Now.”

Ashley is plainly dumbfounded, struggling to see where she went wrong (a pattern when it comes to dealing with the volatile leader of The Seven), mouth agape. She shakes her head. “But sir, are you-?”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about or doing. Clearly.”

Ms. Barrett turns a shade paler, staring at Homelander and blinking owlishly before snapping herself out of her stupor. She hurries her lackeys out of the room, shooing them along like a pair of misbehaving toddlers. She doesn’t give a final look, no further warning. She merely shuts the door behind her.

You also hear it lock.

What the hell does she think is going to happen?

You should have stopped this while you had the chance. You should have never taken this job. You should have stood up for yourself and walked out. You should have you should have you should-

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

His caustic tone sends shivers down your spine. It’s unlike anything you’ve heard come out of him. And you’ve heard enough.

Again, you open your mouth. It fills with blood, thick and metallic and more potent than the mint from your gum. You’re silenced by it.

He stalks toward you and grabs you hastily by the shoulders, swiveling you around so you’re face-to-face with the choices you’ve made. Your mirrored image is reflected back at you, exhausted and searching for any last shred of who you might be beneath his heavy palms.

“Look at yourself! Do you even recognize who’s staring back at you?” No.

“What kind of game are you playing, hmmm? Is this… humiliating spectacle you’re putting on for the money? Your pathetic career? Like it’s goddamned rocket science to pick up a can of hairspray and use it. Monkeys have hands.” He makes a noise that’s akin to a snorting horse, exhaling forcefully past his nostrils. “I mean, did you really think you could pull a fast one on me?” He clutches your jaw, squeezing it between middle and thumb. Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart picking up rhythm.

“Spit that fucking gum out. Don’t think I can’t hear you grinding it between your molars like a dumb animal. You aren’t a mama bird, are you? Y’don’t have cute little baby birds t’force-feed your regurgitated leftovers, do you? Eugh, gross.”

You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose. It presents you with a false sense of security. You do as you’re told, and it lands on the floor in front of your shoe, saliva dangling on a thread as withered as your sanity.

Suddenly fresh breath seems like the most insignificant issue, when Homelander himself once made it out to be something earth-shattering.

You’re such a fool.

He leans in and sniffs your throat. Your fingers lengthen and bend.

You’re so many things at once. Confused, angry, nervous, scared. And, to your dismay, warm. God you’re so fucking warm. He’s heating you up from the inside out. You clench your jaw, still held in place by a firm bind.

“Get rid of those ugly clothes. I don’t care what you have to do. I can’t stand the sight or smell of them.”

You shut your eyes. When you open them, all you see is red. The other emotions are smothered in favor of that brand of heat. What happens next is a blur. You temporarily leave yourself.

“Fine. Have it your way, Homelander. You always do.”

Breaking free of his fluctuating hold, you start tearing at what you’re wearing, tossing everything- including your bra and underwear- to the ground. Your shirt winds up with the gum sticking to its loose fabric. You even take your shoes and socks off, not paying any heed to where your belongings go. Just that they’re gone.

You don’t process the glaring fact that you made yourself naked in front of your boss. In front of the most powerful man this country, and possibly world, has known. You don’t care that things have escalated this far. That they shouldn’t have. They shouldn’t have. But guess what? They did. And these are the consequences you both have to deal with.

“You wanna know what game I’m playing?” You turn around, forcing him backward. “It’s funny, I thought you’d be able to answer that for me, considering all the hoops I’ve had to jump through to not only save my ass, but make sure you had someone to talk to at the end of the day! Who on your team can you say goes above and beyond like that for you?!” He blinks at you now, eyes wide. Features fall to the floor where your clothes reside. You have his full and undivided attention.

An impressively dangerous thing to have.

“What more do you want from me, Homelander? I practically live with you without any of the benefits that usually includes! You’re really going to stand here and berate me like I haven’t given you fucking everything you’ve ever asked me for? Because I made one mistake? I gave up my entire world, which I know doesn’t mean shit to you. But it does to me.”

You fold your arms over your chest. Nothing covers it. You have to know before you lose all dignity. So you ask once more, hoping it won’t get lost in this bizarre mess.

“What do you want from me?”

Nothing. He can’t stop staring at you. You aren’t aware enough to be ashamed, but you are aware enough to be upset.

His infuriating silence compels you to bend down and gather what was a barrier between the two of you. You are no longer needed if he can’t do what he does best, which is spout off, leaking bottled words everywhere like a broken faucet. It’s a pretty simple question, you think.

That’s when the glass behind you shatters.

You flinch, pause what you’re doing and slowly stand. Cautious in whatever your next approach will be.

Surveying the aftermath, you’re relieved to find that you’re far enough away from the mirror so no injuries were inflicted.

When you finally lock eyes with the source, you see red. The atmosphere surrounding you heaves like the distended belly of a rotting corpse; hisses like an overflowing tea kettle; pierces you like lightning.

Homelander’s expression is rigid. His jaw quivers. Irises are a bright, shining scarlet. If you try anything rash, you might be next. But, having been around him for so long, you’re more inclined to believe he’s having trouble processing his own emotions. And that might have been one of the only ways to release them.

You drop the top and pants you managed to reclaim. Your brain hasn’t fully recovered from the constant devastating hit it’s taken, so you don’t want to put a name to what’s pushing you forward. You don’t stop until you’re directly in his line of vision.

Swallowing, you carefully extend your hand. The ruby color begins to crumble and give way to the vast ocean you might have drowned in one too many times. You lost track, blocking what you could out. Too real and intimate to accept for a realm that thrives off of inauthenticity and misfortune.

Homelander inhales harshly and you retreat, pupils hooking themselves to his. Searching for any sign you shouldn’t be right where you are.

Of course there are several; unfortunately, you are currently blind to them. Blind to everything but him.

That’s how it’s been for awhile, hasn’t it?

He has a habit of not granting you the luxury of time.

Quickly, he snatches your wrist and brings your palm flat against his cheek. He exhales, eyelids fluttering, nuzzling into you.

It’s so simple, yet it disarms you in ways you aren’t accustomed to.

Homelander basks in this chaste display of affection, and so do you, in awe of how enraptured he appears. Soaking you inside of his pores.

In turn, your cognizance reappears. You nearly topple over, realization infiltrating every part of you.

You’re not wearing a stitch.

A knock at the door startles you both. You glance over in that general direction and hear from the other side, “You’re on in fifteen, Homelander, sir!”

Gazing back up at him, you witness that same fire expand at a rapid rate. You use your other hand to bring him back down to reality, to ground him. It rests against his chest, delving into and cracking his ribs, flaying him open.

What strikes you is how vigorously his heart is beating. How you can feel it through his uniform.

This is how much you affect him. (Can you fathom that you’re only privy to a fraction?) Having evidence of the tiniest reciprocation drains you of any unwanted discomfort.

His fury subsides. You breathe out. He does, too.

“Go sit in your chair. I came here to do my job, after all.” The tenderness with which you speak seems to ease him further, his shoulders deflating with each word.

That aside, you’re playing with a lit match. You’re unsure who’s going to set who ablaze, but you’re willing to go down with this entire building to find out.

He does as he’s told, watching you the whole way like a mutilated mixture of a snarling cornered animal and a man fervently in love. He almost trips into his seat, not an ounce of grace in his gait.

Sacrificing his entire image just to get a glimpse of you.

Whipping his cape to the side, he sinks into the cushion. You get things ready as you typically do, your movements a bit jittery from the adrenaline sending haphazard jolts to your limbs. Despite this, you’re focused. You are more focused than you remember ever being.

You work efficiently, keeping in mind the limit that’s been put on your time.

Homelander bores holes through you. He doesn’t need lasers for that. You’re exposed and vulnerable and he pries what he fostered apart until it’s distinguishable by no one else but him.

You relearn his perfectly manufactured features. Different lights shape shadows you either haven’t seen before or feigned ignorance of. You commit to memory how he looks, smells, feels, the side of your hand grazing his cheek and hanging on.

He’s invigorating, your excitement building to a crescendo you can’t neglect. The heat in your core disperses, most of it congregating low in your belly and behind your expanding rib cage. His pupils drink you in, urgently and violently.

Your arousal is heady. He licks his lips. A hint of a whine caresses your ears and it makes you dizzy.

How could you have ever denied yourself?

You decide to take further control, testing the waters to a greater extent.

It’s your turn to watch him the whole way down. You straddle him, easing yourself atop his taut thighs.

After a few moments of humoring yourself, of pretending to concentrate on your work, dusting his nose with powder, you straighten. Eye contact has not been severed.

You motion toward his hands, balled into tense, repressed fists at his sides.

“Take off your gloves.”

Initially, it feels like maybe you said the wrong thing, or said it the wrong way. He doesn’t budge. You’re patient, however, so you wait like you’ve always done, the warmth from your cunt mingling with the hardness beneath you. Your mouth waters.

At last, Homelander nods and removes his gloves, tugging on the index of each. He places them on the armrests and transfixes himself to you once more.

“Do you want to touch me?” you ask, voice and body staying impossibly still in spite of your nerves.

Immediately, he shakes his head, “Yes,” the first time he’s spoken since your outburst, and without hesitation, reaches for your chest. You close your eyes, falling into his snooping lifts and tugs and squeezes, giving yourself permission to become possessed by the inhibited imaginations of how selfish, how rapacious his touches might be. How smooth his bare hands are, how ardent each digit is.

Leaning into you, he sucks one nipple into his mouth and palms the other, moaning and vibrating against your flesh. He digs his fingers into the pliant softness of your hip, steadying you with disciplined pressure. You squirm, attuned to every minuscule shift.

The lit match is tilted toward you now, swift and stunning. Your fingers release the brush you’ve been holding. It aligns with the slit of the cushion, forgotten and purposeless.

You wrap your digits around the hand on your curves and guide him toward your throbbing center. He doesn’t fight you. Doesn’t stop your movements. Doesn’t scold or challenge you. Instead, he curls his fingers in a way that makes you unabashedly moan, cupping your folds and pinning his thumb to your clit, adapting to your anatomy.

Your wants.

It seems like breaking away from you is a daunting task, but he does for a moment, brow furrowed, more engrossed and invested than you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck.” The curse sounds downright edible, your new favorite flavor. Your name tumbles from his lips like he’s been practicing, a sweet, rich icing on top. You gasp, his tongue adhering to you again, swirling around your peak before lightly biting it.

Rocking your hips back and forth, side-to-side, you grind hard into his palm. He strokes you like he’s studied what pace you prefer, how much friction you crave. You’re so wet, even you’re thrown off by it.

Once he’s finished with your chest, he’s back against the seat, unable to peel his gaze from you. Your full, swollen, glistening breasts.

His mouth hangs open, obscene, desperate whimpers slipping from it. Pupils are like whirlpools that drive you under. Drive you mad.

Homelander adeptly slips two, three digits inside your sopping cunt, unrelenting in his intentions to make up for lost time. The voracity of his actions propels you forward, balancing against his chest. He grasps and pulls at your other hip, groaning loudly in your ear, confirming his approval of how close you are to him.

It’s still not enough.

Pulling you even tighter to his blinding sun of a body, he encloses his free arm around you and desperately bucks his waist. “I want… I want… I want…” he chants. Your nails drag up his neck and along his scalp, overwhelmed by his warmth, his scent, him. Your lips ghost the sliver of skin above his collar, making him growl.

You anticipate and dread and yearn for what’s been building for so long. You clench and release, clench and release, clench and release, body chanting with him.

You’re intuitively thankful for the chair’s sturdiness; however, if it would have collapsed, you’re honestly not sure you would have noticed. Or cared.

You hear him come first. Feel the temperature rise temporarily. It’s so sudden and all-consuming that you naturally follow, his name an instinct you can’t help but divulge. You haven’t come down from the turbulent emotions rushing through you earlier, and that combination catapults you over the edge.

Your orgasm draws more deliberate, vehement grunts and sighs of satisfaction from him, as if your pleasure is inexplicably the same or worth more than his.

You can’t crumple into a boneless heap like you want to. You just can’t. You have to look at him. Look at his bliss; the glazed, barren-yet-so-full-of-you expression, of what these months of working in close quarters have done to him.

What you uncover is not what you were picturing. There’s a mixture of that haze with something almost apologetic below the teeming surface. Clouds of red to skies of blue. Destructive in and of themselves.

Sliding his fingers from your wetness, he wraps his lips around each one that was inside of you and spreads them apart. Your slick sticks to his glossy skin and stretches between digits, a generous amount. You whimper at the loss- the emptying, hollow feeling- and watch, mesmerized and delirious as he savors you.

Swallowing you whole, Homelander sweeps his knuckles across the apple of your cheek and presses his lips hard against yours. He wastes no time inhaling your gasps and moans, licking your mouth and the faint taste of mint, stealing it from you. You ingest what you can of him as well, exploring what was open to you longer than you realized.

He then seizes your wrists. It’s a rough gesture that evaporates into gentle circles along your pulse points. Still, you know you’re going to bruise where he turned the key and locked you into place: wherever he is.

A visible sheen coats his lips.

“I want you to tell me I’m good. Great. The best.”

His breathing is labored. So is yours.

He kisses the inside of the wrist smeared with perfume, your fluids, his saliva; ends with your hand and rests his cheek against the slope of it.

“I want you to be mine. All mine. Mine alone.”

You’re shaking. He moves forward and pets your hair, twirls it; grabs your nape and holds his thumb to the front of your throat. Securing you. Keeping you there.

“You have to stay. Be mine and stay.”

You thrum with an ache he forced upon you. He’ll claim you were starving and he was the only one who could satiate.

You nod. You were never going to leave to begin with.

Homelander made you his. And you thanked him for it.

#homelander #homelander x reader #the boys #antony starr #my writing #let me see you stripped down to the bone #oneshot #god it feels so good getting this out #i’ve been going through a painful writer’s block so 🥹#thank you everyone who helped and anyone who reads #this is my first full-fledged homelander fic so i’m a bit nervous but! very excited 🖤#love you all 🥰

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sunkissedrafe · 10 months ago

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okay but imagine innocent!reader going to a party with rafe and his friends and getting a little over served!!!

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

standing around a makeshift fire pit the guys set up because your short little dress doesn’t help much in keeping you warm. rafe and the guys circle around it too nursing their beers and talking about a bunch of manly topics you have no interest in, until…

“what about truth or dare?” kelce asks and the group enthusiastically agrees. your ears perk up at the idea, and you look up at rafe with your glassy doe eyes jumping up and down a couple times. “can i play too, rafey? love truth or dare!!!” he gives you a kiss on the forehead and a little nod.

the game is going so good at first, except they start take advantage of you as you down more of your fruity drink:(((

“i dare you to try and touch your elbows together.” one of the guys slurs out, and of course you’re determined to do it. you furrow your brows as you struggle to touch the two together, squeezing your hardest as they all watch your tits nearly pop out of your dress.

at first rafe just watches with an amused grin. he knows he has a ten for a girlfriend and he isn’t naive to the fact that all of his friends would pounce on you given the chance. it doesn’t matter that they look because they know damn well they’ll never touch.

“dare you to touch your toes without bending your knees, i heard it’s like… impossible.” topper chimes in with a smirk. rafe shoots him a narrow eyed glance as you bend over. his jaw clenches when you stumble and end up with your back facing the group, pretty pink panties on display as you grunt and eventually reach your toes. “think i did it! did i??”

“yeah, yeah alright. okay. you did it baby.” rafe pulls you back up and wraps his arm around your waist after tugging the hem of your dress back below your ass. you giggle and take another sip of your drink, so proud of yourself for completing such an impossible task.

you were feeling so warm and bubbly you didn’t even think about the fact that none of the others had been doing any dares!!

“i d-dare you,” one of the more drunk guys stammers out and chuckles, stepping closer to you, “to.. to see if you can unbutton.. my pants with y-your teeth.” he and the rest of the guys erupt in a fit of commotion, but rafe isn’t so amused!

“the fuck is wrong with you?” he shoves the guy back roughly, his broad frame towering over him. “huh?”

“cmon rafe it- it wasn’t even like that bro!”

“it wasn’t?” rafe speaks lowly and slowly steps closer as his friend cowers down. you watch with wide eyes as rafe’s hand reaches behind his back and to the waistband of his jeans, his fingers gripping the shiny metal gun he keeps on him. “you do so much as look in her direction the rest of the night..” rafe lets out his signature psychotic chuckle and lets go of the gun, using the same hand to grip his friends collar and pull him so they’re nose to nose. “y’know.. that big fuckin’ forehead you got is damn near beggin’ me to use it for target practice.”

he shoves his friend to the ground and clears his throat, grabbing a new beer from the cooler and cracking the top. he takes a sip and pulls you back into his side, squeezing your hip reassuringly. you beam up at him and he gives you the softest smile you’ve ever seen.

he glances back around to his group, but all of them are silent. the only sound is the wood crackling in the rusty barrel in front of you. “anyone else wanna play?”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

taglist: @stepbrorafe @bunnycvnts @hewwokitti3 @pinkribboncoco @rafesgiirl @beautifuldisaster88 @mousie101 @laniirackssss @ditzyzombiesblog

#rafe blurb #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe obx #obx s2 #obx s3 #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fic #obx

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dreamofbetterthings · 5 months ago

Text

Finally Home Wolverine x mutant! Reader

Prompt: “I’ve spent forever thinking about what I’d say to you when I saw you again. Now that you’re here in front of me, I can’t seem to find the words.”

VIP: Logan Howlett aka Wolverine (Played by Hugh Jackman)

Universe: X-Men (Originally Fox), Marvel

Summary: Wade was a man of his word, and managed to get Logan back to his universe, right into the arms of someone he hasn't seen in ten years.

Warnings: This is a different ending from Deadpool and Wolverine. Minor spoilers for the plot. Reader is basically a modern-day avatar (The last air bender universe, not the Jake Sully blue folks lol) since all the good powers are already taken haha. Also, The Last Stand doesn't exist in this universe because I refuse to acknowledge the pain I had watching that movie.

A/N

Holy cow I took my boyfriend to see Deadpool and Wolverine, and we loved it! Originally, there were a couple of stories for these two individually that I had in my WIPS, but I just needed to get a couple of stories out while the movie was still fresh in my mind. The ending might be a little out of character for Wade and Logan, but I had no idea how to end it, so it is what it is. Once again, minor spoilers ahead for the film. I'll have another one out soon for you all.

Enjoy!

Logan was never one to be straightforward with his emotions. Nobody knew what he was thinking, or how he felt about anything. The only thing he managed to convey was anger and rage. Not now though. The party at Wade's apartment was in full swing, and everybody was having a good time knowing their existence wasn't on the verge of collapsing.

Almost everyone, anyway.

Logan sat on the couch and watched Wade interact with his friends, his newfound family, and that damn dog. He watched as they all smiled and joked with each other, passing food and drinks about. It was a domestic life that he hadn't quite learned to adapt. He almost did though, with you. Logan pulls a photo out of his jeans and a melancholy look spreads across his face as he looks at it.

"That's not fair, you can teleport!" Brushing what was left of the water balloon off your clothes, Kurt shrugs his shoulders. "You'll just have to be faster and catch me!" You quickly aim before he disappears again, leaving you without a target.

It was a sunny day, thanks to Storm, and Charles decided to give the students a break. With so much going on in the last few months, everyone was exhausted. He thought it would be a good idea to set up a pool and let everyone relax. Most of them were just kids after all, and they were pushed so much harder than they needed to be for the sake of a world that won't always accept them. They yearned for a day to be themselves, to be kids, and today, was that day.

Everybody was outside either in or by the pool. Students were chasing each other with water balloons and water guns. Others were taking turns jumping into the pool, or playing water polo, or volleyball. There was a barbeque off to the side when the kids got hungry, and of course, alcohol for the adults. The sun was out, and it gave a warm contrast to the nippy water of the pool. The X-Men team, the adults anyway, were sitting in lounge chairs or standing around, making sure the kids were being careful and not hurting themselves. Storm was even walking around and taking pictures of everyone having fun, mentioning she wanted to get them developed and put in a scrapbook. A memento of when life was easier and calm.

Then there was Logan. Off to the side drinking a beer, watching everyone have a good time. He wasn't much for the domestic life, as he didn't make a habit of getting close to people. But, these were his people, and he was thankful to find a community that accepted him as he was, even if he would never say it out loud. He watched all the kids run around, but his eyes always found their way back to you. You looked happy and relaxed, even when chasing Bobby or Colossus around with water in your hands. This was a huge contrast from how you looked during the missions you went on. It was a good look for you.

Logan was pulled from his thoughts when a sudden burst of cold hit his chest. Looking down, he noticed his once-dry black shirt was sticking to his body, water dripping from it. All the kids gasped and stopped their movements. Charles looked at his friend, a slightly amused look on his face. He looked around, trying to figure out who had just signed their death wish before his eyes once again landed on you. Standing next to the pool, you looked around, pretending like you didn't just water bend to hit him from across the yard. Logan did something that confused everyone. He simply grunted, wiping off his shirt before taking another drink of his beer. Everyone relaxed and continued to have fun, although slightly surprised at the lack of reaction from the stoic man.

You had stopped the antics and started talking with Scott, asking him how things had been with him and Jean. The last mission put a bit of a strain on their relationship. Your back was to Logan, so you didn't see when he put down his beer and started to creep up towards you. Scott noticed when he finally made his way behind you but decided not to say anything. After finishing his sentence, Scott quickly excused himself and stepped away. That was when Logan decided to grab you from behind.

You screamed from suddenly getting picked up and tried to reason with the man as he walked towards the pool. "Logan, come on, let's talk about this for a second. You don't have to do this. I'm sorry, please just put me down!" Unfortunately, your pleas fell on deaf ears, and the others sat there laughing as Logan hurled you into the pool. The kids all yelled in excitement. They'd been trying to get you in the water for hours. Had they known it was that easy, they would've splashed Logan themselves earlier. When you finally came up for air, everybody was laughing, and you even heard a couple of shutter clicks from Storm's camera.

Logan just stood there with an amused smirk on his face. You fake pouted before he came over to the edge of the pool with his hand out. "You shouldn't have splashed me." With a huff, you go over to meet him at the edge. "You don't sound too sorry about it." He pulled his hand away and shrugged his shoulders. "Alright, I won't help you out." "Okay, okay. I accept your apology. Would you be so kind as to help me out of the pool?" He reached his hand back out, and you happily took it, only to shock him by pulling the man with all your strength into the pool with you. This got everyone laughing. Scott laughed so hard he fell to his knees. Logan finally came up for air, his poor shirt clinging to his body for dear life, and wrapped his arms around you to keep you from getting out.

He was smiling.

He didn't smile often, and it always warmed your heart to see those pearly whites. Storm ran up and managed to get a couple of photos of the two of you before running off again. "I think that makes us even." You shake your head. "Not even close, however, I don't want the entire school to think you aren't the brooding mysterious man that you waltz around as.” Leaning close to his ear you whisper so the kids can't hear. "So, if you want, you can make it up to me tonight." Logan stays frozen in place, his eyes following you out of the pool to look for a towel.

Storm had the photos developed later that night and slipped a couple under Logan's door with a note. "Don't worry, I didn't put these in the scrapbook. I think the fourth will be your favorite." - Storm

Logan's eyes welled with tears as he held the photo. She was right, the fourth photo was his favorite one. The two of you were soaking wet in the pool with your arms around each other, smiling towards the camera. The picture got crumpled over time, always in his pocket or folded out of reach, but he kept it.

He missed you.

Dear god, he missed you.

Your body was never found when the mansion was raided. He always assumed you were taken and experimented on. He would've rather you be killed instead of kept alive and tortured for who knows how long. After looking for you for what felt like forever, he finally gave up, assuming you were dead. The crumpled-up picture was the only thing he had to remember your smile, your laugh, you.

Logan blinked the tears away when Wade approached. "Hey there peanut. You got a second?" A grunt left Logan's lips. "What do you want?" The self-proclaimed marvel Jesus took his hand and pulled him towards the door. "I got a surprise for you, I think you'll like it. Don't worry about the party, we'll be quick." As the two men walk out the door, Wade pulls a TempPad out of his pocket, and Logan starts to protest. "I'm not about to do more universe jumping with you. Once was enough." Wade nods. "I understand, but I think you might change your mind once you find out where we're going." Before Logan can say anything else, he is pulled through a portal into a hallway that looks like a carbon copy of the one he was previously in. "I swear if I have to listen to another one of you assholes I'm going to kill you both." Wade shrugs the comment off. "It's not another me." He gets serious for a moment.

"I know I lied to you about being able to fix your universe, and I'm sorry. However, I did jump around and find someone that you've been missing for ten years." Wade knocks on the door and then steps back. It opens a few seconds later.

"Logan?"

You stood there, shock and disbelief on your face. Without a second thought, both your feet move until you collapse in each other's arms. A sigh of relief leaves the broken man's mouth as the war in his mind begins to subside. "It's me bub. It's me." Tears spill down your face as you hug the man who you haven't seen in years. The two of you finally pull away, and Logan turns to Wade. "How did you do this? I thought they were dead." The merc shakes his head no. "Took a while to track them down. I almost thought they were dead, luckily I was wrong."

A portal appears behind Wade as he reaches out to hand Logan the TempPad. "I couldn't fix your past, but I at least wanted to give you a familiar future. Don't expect you to, but come visit anytime. My door is always open. We'll miss having you around." Logan took the device from Wade's hands. He starts to walk through the portal before Logan calls him. Turning around, Wade sees tears in the older man's eyes. "Thank you." He nods, before walking through the portal, and everyone in his apartment smiles and waves goodbye, before it closes.

Logan puts the device in his pocket, before looking at his lost love. He reaches his hand out and touches your face, afraid that this is some sick illusion and you'll be ripped away from him. “I’ve spent forever thinking about what I’d say to you when I saw you again. Now that you’re here in front of me, I can’t seem to find the words.” You smile and take his hand in yours. "Well, luckily for us, we have the rest of our lives for you to figure it out." You begin to walk back into your apartment, Logan's hand in yours. He thought about visiting Wade again when the time was right, but right now, he had a life with you to catch up on.

He was finally home.

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wooyoungiewritings · 1 year ago

Text

Mr. Popular - Seonghwa x Reader

Summary: After your best friend leaves you alone at the party, you find yourself in an unfortunate situation, until an unexpected savior comes to save the day. Seonghwa, the popular guy, ends up being your knight in shining armor, but he also happens to be the guy your best friend is currently crushing on. So what do you do, when you find yourself getting to know him and he makes you feel things you shouldn't?

Word count: 21.8K

Genre: Fluff, a bit angsty, S M U T

Warnings: smut, fem reader (fem pronouns), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, light choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, edging (f), Hwa is very dominant hehhehehhe, lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

“You know who’s coming tonight?”

You look to your side and see a smirk on your best friend’s lips.

“Judging from the smirk on your lips, I’m guessing one of your boyfriends.” You roll your eyes jokingly and her hand smacks your arm.

“Boyfriends?!” She almost screams, and you send her a pair of eyes to tell her to quiet down. The poor taxi driver has driven you two all across town and has heard plenty of your conversations, and you’re starting to feel bad for him. “They’re not my boyfriends.. yet.” She smirks.

“How many do you plan on dating, huh?” You look out of the window, not recognizing the area.

“Crushing on someone is not the same as dating them. Just because two of my favorite eye-candies are coming tonight, doesn’t mean I’m going to talk to both of them.”

“And who’s that?” You ask curiously. Last time you counted, she was crushing on 5 people from your school, a few of whom she has never spoken to.

“Mingi and Seonghwa.” She answers confidently. “And who I’ll be shooting my shot at tonight, all depends on who catches my eye first.” She shrugs, and you roll your eyes once again. Once again, you feel bad for the taxi driver, but when you see a house full of people, you know you’re finally at your destination. You pay for the cab before heading out, and the music from the house blasts loudly in every direction.

Your best friend grabs you under the arm and drags you towards the party she got you both invited to. She was the social one of the two of you. She knew everyone, knew how to get her way, and was happily dragging you along with her. You on the other hand, mostly only agreed to come so she would keep inviting you to things.

It’s hard to be as extroverted as her, but you got a taste of the popularity from her, and that was enough for you. You didn’t attend these parties quite often. They were alright, but you enjoyed your relaxing weekends even more. But it had been a while since your last party, so you decided tonight was the night.

People fill the yard outside, smoking and drinking, and you mentally prepare yourself for the party inside. As you enter through the front door, you’re welcomed by a vibrant atmosphere. Every room is filled with people laughing and dancing, and the bass from the music vibrates through the entire floor to your body. The smell of alcohol filling your nose, a group of guys screaming over a game of beer pong, and the sticky floor from spilled alcohol remind you why these parties aren’t your favorite way to spend your night. You look to your side and see your best friend scanning the room.

“You see something?” You ask, seeing as she squints her eyes in a certain direction.

“I’ve spotted my target for tonight.” She wriggles her brows with a smirk and you feel her let go of your arm. “A tall Mingi just went out to the backyard.” She lets completely go of you, but before she goes anywhere, you grab her hand again.

“Are you leaving me?” Panic is evident in your voice. You’ve been here for 15 seconds, and she’s already about to leave you for a guy.

“No! I’m just... Getting us something to drink... From the backyard...” Her excuse isn't getting her far, and your sigh lets her know how you feel about the situation. “I’ll just go talk to him really quick, okay? I’ll be back. Please?” She sends you her famous doe-eyes as she softly holds your hand.

“The eyes only work on guys, you know that,” You shake your head, looking at the door Mingi just went through. Your gaze meets her eyes again, and another deep sigh leaves you. “Go.. Before I change my mind.” Your words have her jumping, and she quickly kisses you on the cheek before making her way toward the door that leads to the backyard and a certain Mingi.

A sigh escapes between your lips as you look around at the party in this unfamiliar house. Your eyes try to scan after someone you can hang out with while your friend shoots her shot, but it only leaves you unsatisfied. You recognize a few people, but not anyone you’d categorize as your friends. A group of guys runs past you, nearly running into your still-standing frame, before they exit the door filled with drunken laughs.

Your introverted side is really kicking your ass right now.

You find your phone in your pocket, trying your best to look busy and fail to see the eyes watching you from across the room. Eyes that belong to someone who doesn’t see you at these parties very often, and is too busy people watching, compared to his friends around him who have their own conversation going. He takes a sip of his drink as his eyes stay on you. He wonders why you’re all by yourself, or if you’re waiting for someone.

“Don’t you think, Hwa?” Wooyoung asks as San laughs, but Seonghwa hasn’t heard a word of their conversation.

“Sure.” He simply responds and looks at you again. A loud group of guys snatch his attention from you. They’ve been loud the entire night, and he’s honestly not a fan of this group of guys. They’re from another college and are always at these parties where they tend to make a fool of themselves. The group of guys are standing around a small table filled with bottles of alcohol, and a few of them point in a specific direction. Seonghwa’s eyes follow their pointing and he realizes they’re talking about you.

This catches his attention even more, and he keeps his eyes on the group of guys as he watches them make a drink, and one of them heads in your direction, two drinks in hand.

“Hey, you look a bit lost?” A voice steals the focus from your phone, and you look up to see a guy with two drinks in his hands.

“Oh, I just barely know anyone here.” You say, putting away your phone.

“Then let me accompany you, I’m Daniel! Nice to meet you,” He holds out a hand for you to shake. He has a friendly smile on his lips, so you shake his hand and introduce yourself. “You came here alone?” He asks.

“No, I came with someone else but I kinda lost them. So I just decided to stay here... they’ll come back... Hopefully.” You honestly don’t know when your best friend will be back. She’s done this a few times before, and she can be back in 5 minutes or 3 hours.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be alone as well. Can I join you?” He sends you another smile. His voice is courteous and accommodating, and he’s the only one who has talked to you, so you decide to let your inner extrovert shine.

“Sure.” You shrug.

“Cool. I also happen to carry an extra drink with me... Are you up for a game?” He lifts a brow daringly, and it turns on a fire in you. You may not know this guy, or be the biggest fan of drinking games, but you feel tempted to accept.

“It depends.” There’s a skepticism evident in your voice.

“Whoever chucks the fastest, gets to make the other one a drink, and they have to drink it. Deal?” He holds out one of the drinks for you. The orange color of the drink makes it look fruity, and you’re tempted to lose yourself for once.

Have fun, be open, meet people.

“Deal” You grab the drink.

A smile spreads on his lips and he holds out his drink to cheer with you. You bump your drink with his and slowly get ready for this small challenge he gave you. Your hand brings the drink to your lips, and you get ready to chuck while Daniel starts a countdown.

“Alright, ready? 3..2..1..”

“There you are!” An unknown voice interrupts just as you’re about to drink. You and Daniel both stop and look at the owner of the voice, and you freeze when you see a tall figure next to you. “Sorry, I took so long, Angel. You’re already starting without me?” Seonghwa asks before he grabs the drink from your hand. You’re completely frozen in your spot as you watch Seonghwa take a sip of the drink and make a disgusted face. “Oh, babe, you don’t like this... Remember that drink you tasted a few weeks ago? It tastes exactly like that,” Seonghwa pours out the drink in an empty bowl on the table next to you. His scent wraps around you like a warm hug, when he relaxes his arm around your shoulders and shifts his gaze to Daniel. “And who do we have here?”

Daniel narrows his eyes in Seonghwa’s direction, but Seonghwa doesn’t seem intimidated in the slightest.

“Daniel,” He answers coldly. "Who are you?"

“Let’s get you something good to drink.” Seonghwa looks down at you with a smile and completely ignores Daniel's question and presence. Seonghwa's black hair falls down in front of his eyes as he looks down at you, and you’re lost for words. You’ve never spoken to Seonghwa before, only seen him in class or whenever your best friend wanted to show pictures of him, but being this close to him so suddenly, seeing his sharp features up close, sends a quick rush of warmth throughout your body.

Seonghwa definitely caught your eye at times. He and his friends were some of the popular guys on campus, and most people knew who they were. Hence, they were always at the parties. But Seonghwa seemed like one of the more “friendly” ones. He wasn’t as intimidating as some of the others in his group and generally gave you the best impression. And seeing him up close like this, you see why so many girls were crushing on him.

Seonghwa grabs your hand and wedges himself through the crowd and into the empty kitchen, leaving Daniel alone. The loud music quiets down to a less deafening volume, yet the loud voices from people are still evident from around the house. Alcohol, empty cups, and chips are lined up on the kitchen island, and he lets go of your hand before you watch him as he starts mixing two drinks.

“What just happened?” Is all you finally manage to say as Seonghwa locks his focus on the drinks.

“He and his friends.. bad news.” He explains and you watch him pour alcohol and soda into the cups. His black slightly curly hair falls down on his face again, and together with his big black sweater, he gives a relaxed vibe, despite being in the chaotic household.

“Really? He seemed cool.” You don’t know much about these parties, but Daniel seemed nice, and not like “bad news” as Seonghwa called him.

“Yeah, they do until they get you drunk and take advantage of you.” His words make it sound like this has happened before. He doesn’t keep his eyes on you much, too focused on making the drinks as he takes a quick sip of one of them. He doesn’t look fully satisfied and continues to mix some more soda into the cups.

“Do you know him?” You ask.

“I know about him, but I saw him approach you and the way he spoke to you.” He grabs a spoon and uses it to mix the liquids in the cups. His words have you tilting your head slightly.

“You were watching me?” You ask, narrowing your eyes jokingly at him. Seonghwa smiles to himself, avoiding your eyes, and keeps his gaze on the drinks.

“Here..“ He hands out one of the cups to you, ignoring your question. He finally looks into your eyes and the big brown eyes lock with yours as you take the drink. “He and his friends had hidden the taste of alcohol so you would get drunk quicker,” He explains before taking a quick sip of his cup. “Never take drinks from strangers.”

“Kinda suspicious saying that after handing me a drink, don’t you think?” You ask, lifting the cup to your lips. You let the liquid make its way into your mouth, and you're instantly impressed with the flavor. It doesn’t taste a lot like alcohol, but you also noticed how much soda Seonghwa added to the drinks compared to the amount of alcohol.

Seonghwa sends you a warm smile. “I’m Seonghwa.” He says.

“I know.” You say before telling him your name in return.

“I know. We have class together.” His words leave you slightly speechless. Never had you noticed his eyes on you or heard your name escape through his lips. Sitting at the other end of the classroom, not being part of the same friend groups, never sharing a conversation. It honestly made sense if he didn’t have any idea of your existence.

“I didn’t think you had noticed me,” You say quietly, trying to hide your blushing cheeks. His soft piercing eyes had a bigger effect on you than you cared to admit. “In a class with 95 other students, I feel like it’s pretty easy to blend in.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I see you in class..” The way his eyes continue to show warmth and friendliness, despite never looking into them for this long, have your knees softening. “You have a very innocent face. Like an angel,” His words make you forget everything for a second, never having heard that compliment before. “But I usually see you with this other girl, I think I saw a glimpse of her and Mingi tonight.”

Hearing how your best friend successfully made a move on Mingi, somehow makes you feel a little better for her leaving you. At least her plan worked.

“Speaking of her..” You start, looking at your cup. “What do you think of her?” Your curiosity got the best of you. Talking to Seonghwa, one of her many crushes, could open your chances of being a wonderful wingman for your friend.

A wrinkle formed between Seonghwa’s brows as he tried reading where this conversation was heading. His skepticism of the topic held him back from answering, so you decided to expose your friend.

“My friend has a little crush on you. That’s why I’m asking.” You shrug, and Seonghwa let out an awkward laugh.

“Oh... I haven’t spoken with her enough to have an opinion. She seems nice though.” It didn’t seem like he was ecstatic at the information about your friend’s crush on him. But Seonghwa seemed like the guy to get confessions from girls a few times a week, so this probably wasn’t new to him.

“I’m just saying... If you want to shoot your shot with her, she won't decline.” You’re working your hardest, trying to be the best wingman for your friend. If only she knew that you were spending your time talking to her crush about her, while she was shootig her shot at someone else.

Seonghwa seem to have the same train of thought.

"Are you trying to set me up with your friend while she's visibly trying to hook up with my friend?" There's a smile on his lips, slight confusion evident in his voice.

"Look, I'm just trynna be a good wingman here." You hold up your hands like you're innocent, earning a chuckle from Seonghwa.

“Well, maybe... But I’m kinda busy tonight trying to save this girl from some creep trying to get her drunk at this party.” A smirk formed on Seonghwa’s lips and the urge to roll your eyes rushed over you.

His brown eyes were slightly hidden by his black hair, and as much as you hated to admit it, you felt intrigued by him. He had a certain charm and friendliness that made you addicted to his presence, and despite only talking for a short amount of time, you’re already more than comfortable around him.

“You don’t think I’m able to take care of myself?” You ask teasingly.

“Oh, I know you can take care of yourself. But when you see a blind person crossing the street, you still offer help, even though they know how to walk by themselves.” His anecdote had you smiling. He lifts his cup slightly in your direction, still with a smirk decorating his lips. “Cheers, angel face.” His smirk hides behind his cup as he keeps his eyes on you. Never did you think your best friend’s crush would be your savior of the night, but you find yourself more comfortable with him than anyone else at this party so far.

You both lift each of your cups to your mouth, and you taste the sweet taste on your tongue. Seonghwa’s eyes linger on you while he also takes a sip, and you’re glad you can blame the warmth in your cheeks on the alcohol.

The two of you start various conversations in the middle of the kitchen, barely noticing the people around you, and you use this time to try and get to know Seonghwa. He's making you laugh, telling you stories about previous parties, and telling you about his friend group. You try opening up to him as well, but you realize how his life is much more exciting than yours. But Seonghwa is very accommodating and asks multiple questions about you, making you feel welcome.

It makes you feel better, having someone to talk to in this crowded house of strangers, but as you're about to say something, a presence enters the kitchen, stealing Seonghwa’s attention from you.

“Seonghwa! I’ve been looking for you!” The female voice bursts out, and you look at the doorway to see a beautiful girl walking towards Seonghwa. Instantly, your confidence falls to the ground, as the popular girl steals the popular guy from you.

You watch as she walks past you, barely paying you any attention as she steps in front of you so she can talk to Seonghwa. Your feet take a few steps back, allowing her the space she needs. Seonghwa notices how you move away and he looks down at the intruder.

“Oh, sorry, can I talk to you in a minute? I have-”

“You said that before too!” The girl interrupts, and you meet Seonghwa’s apologetic eyes. You know you’re not usually a part of this environment, and the people used to these parties probably know each other in a way you don’t. You send Seonghwa a smile and take a few steps toward the doorway.

“It’s fine, I have to find my friend... Thank you for this.” You hold up the drink before making your way out of the kitchen. You ignore the small crack in your heart as you walk away, actually not wanting to stop your conversation with Seonghwa. You’re thankful for him saving you, but you don’t want to hold him back from talking to his friends at the party. You decide not to look back at Seonghwa as you make your way through the crowd. What you don’t see is Seonghwa’s locked gaze on you as you walk away, barely listening to the girl in front of him.

You choose to look after your friend, deciding on her behalf that she has spent enough time with Mingi. What you didn’t expect, was to search for her everywhere for what felt like hours. You even ended up searching for Mingi, but both of them seemed gone like the wind. Going around the crowded house multiple times, trying to find a familiar face was an impossible mission. The thought of leaving did cross your mind, but you were in an unfamiliar neighborhood all the way across town. Getting a cab would be expensive as hell, and since you expected to share a cap with your friend, you weren’t keen on the idea of paying twice as much for a ride home. You therefore decide to stay, hopefully finding your best friend sooner or later.

The softness of the couch felt like a reward as you sat down amid the crowd, relaxing your legs. You wrote a mental note to yourself to never let your friend leave you in the middle of a party where you know literally zero people.

The couch gets another visitor, and you look to your side to see a smile in your direction.

“Guess you didn’t find your friend?” Seonghwa asks, earning a shake of your head.

“Nope. She’s literally gone with the wind.” You lean further back on the couch when Seonghwa hands out a cup for you.

“No thank you, I don’t feel like drinking anymore.”

“Good thing it’s water then. I figured you weren’t in the mood for alcohol.” He sends you a warm smile, and you see the clear liquid in the cup.

You always saw Seonghwa as the friendly type, but he also seemed kind, funny, and thoughtful. He’s like your knight in shining armor tonight, saving you from the villains, who happen to be drunk frat guys.

“You know, a guy once told me to never take drinks from strangers, so I don’t think I can accept this.” Despite being in a bad mood, you still find the energy to tease Seonghwa, and he responds by rolling his eyes with a smile.

“Good thing I’m not a stranger then, but a guy from your class slash guy who saved you from getting too drunk slash your best friend’s crush.” He extends his arm with the cup for you to take, and you chuckle as you accept the water. Him addressing himself as “your best friend’s crush” kicks you in the head, as you didn’t expect to suddenly feel a certain type of way about that title.

If your best friend hadn’t been crushing on Seonghwa for months, you would have allowed the caged butterflies in your stomach to break free, but you couldn’t. You’re not a bad friend.

“Good point. Thank you.”

“What have you been doing all night? besides talking to creepy frat guys and sitting here?” Seonghwa keeps his soft eyes on you, and a deep sigh leaves between your lips. Is now the time you break to Seonghwa what you’ve been doing all night, or should you make it sound like you had the time of your life?

You decide on the first one.

“Oh, I had one hell of a night. I spent 25 minutes on the bathroom floor upstairs because I didn’t know where else to go. It has underfloor heating if that sounds tempting.” You take a sip of the water, letting the cold freshness hit you.

“Wow, I kinda wish that was me.” He jokingly replies.

“I have something better... someone spilled this weird green substance all over my arm, which probably completely ruined my shirt. Then I walked around the house six times, went outside to get some air, and now I’m here.” You look to see his brown eyes full of amusement looking back at you, and him trying his best to hide the smile on his lips.

“You’re right, that is better.” He says, and you can’t help but chuckle at the way your night has been so far.

Your eyes travel around the crowd, and they instantly dwell on the girl who interrupted your conversation with Seonghwa earlier. She’s standing in the crowd, surrounded by her friends, but her eyes are locked on Seonghwa. It’s obvious to you that she’s trying to get his attention, and seeing how popular Seonghwa is amongst the girls, you’re reminded of how different the two of you are.

He likes to party, he’s popular, and all the girls in school love him because of his handsome looks and welcoming personality... On the other hand, you barely know anyone, like to stay home to watch a movie by yourself, and have not once had any romantic interaction with any guy from your school.

“You seem quite popular,” You say quietly, feeling Seonghwa’s eyes on you for more context. You point to the girl on the dance floor, and as he lays his eyes on the girl, she sends him a small wave. You can’t help but look at Seonghwa to see his reaction, but he simply sends her a smile in return. Your eyes flicker between them for a moment. “Don’t let me hold you back if you wanna talk to her.”

“Hey, can I show you something?” He suddenly asks, changing the subject. His gaze goes back to you, and you look at him with squinted eyes.

“I hate these questions. It can either be a wart on the ass, a beautiful sunset, or anything in between.” Your words have him almost breaking into a laugh, but he tries his best to keep his cool.

“If I promise it isn’t a wart on my ass, will you come with me?” He asks with a raised brow.

“I’m not sure.”

“Suit yourself then.” He stands up from the couch like he knows you'll get up to follow him. And without looking back at you, he senses your presence behind him, and he takes you to the first floor. The crowd is much thinner up here, easier to talk.

“Alright, wait here..” He turns around to you, and you look at him patiently as he sends you a warm smile. His tall frame walks past you and heads downstairs once again, and you stand patiently in the hallway.

What you see up here, isn’t surprising to you. Couples enter the first floor, hand in hand, find themselves in an empty room, and lock the door behind them immediately after. It doesn’t take a genius to know what’s happening behind the door, and a slight worry washes over you. What does Seonghwa want up here? Is he actually like the boys you hear about, who messes with girls at parties and leaves them right after? When is he coming back?

And you have plenty of time to think those things through because after 25 minutes, Seonghwa is still nowhere to be seen. You’re left in the hallway, couples entering and exiting the different rooms, and you’re still leaning up against the wall Seonghwa left you at. Deciding you’ve waited enough, your feet start to move.

You decide to walk downstairs again, not knowing what to expect when he left you in the empty hallway. But when you see him talking and laughing with that girl from earlier in the middle of the crowd, you feel stupid for waiting so long.

Seonghwa is popular, and girls love him. You understand why they do, so you can’t even blame him for constantly being busy talking to people. The thoughts are quickly pushed out of your head, as you make your way upstairs again and lock yourself into the bathroom for the second time tonight.

You don’t know how much time you spend in the bathroom, only sitting on the heated floor in your own company as you wait for a cab to arrive and take you home. You’ve decided you’d rather pay for the expensive ride home than be all alone at this party. After receiving a message that the cab is near, you open the door and surprise hits you when you see who waits on the other side.

Seonghwa, breathing heavily like he had been running around, is leaning against the door frames, trapping you inside the bathroom. A sight of relief flashes through his eyes when he sees you, and you’re taken aback by his tall frame in front of you.

“How’d you know I was here?” You ask.

“Underfloor heating.” He simply replies, and you mentally curse at yourself for exposing your hiding place earlier. “I’ve been looking for you, why did you go?”

You take a moment to figure out how to answer, not wanting to make it sound like you're mad, because honestly, you're not. You're just tired of running around, searching for people when you'd rather be home.

“Well... you left me standing alone for 25 minutes and then I saw you downstairs talking to your friends, so I just decided to go.” The awkward smile on your lips sums up the emotions you're feeling. "It's fine though, don't worry about it."

Seonghwa’s shoulders fall and regret washes over him.

“I didn’t-..” He stops mid-sentence and looks around before making his way into the bathroom with you and locking the door behind him. The two of you are now completely alone, separating yourself from the party and blasting music downstairs. “Shit, sorry.. Hey, I didn’t mean to leave you like that. I was gonna show you the balcony but I needed the keys from one of the guys here, but then my friend Wooyoung got in a fight and this girl from before wouldn’t let me leave alone and then-”

“Seonghwa, it’s okay, you really don’t have to explain..” You interrupt Seonghwa before he loses his own breath. “You’re at a party and you should enjoy yourself with all of your friends. I promise you don’t have to feel bad, the two of us aren’t even friends. I just called a cap anyway so I’m going home.”

“Home? Where do you live?”

You tell him your address and his brows nearly shoot up in the ceiling.

“You know how expensive a cab is gonna be from here? It’s all the way across town.” He says as if you weren’t perfectly aware of the situation.

“I don’t have much choice.” You shrug.

“You can stay?”

“And be surrounded by strangers with no one to talk to besides creepy dudes who tryna get me drunk? No, thank you.” You scoff at the idea of staying, already surprised you aren’t home in your bed already. As much as you hate to admit it, Seonghwa was the reason why you stayed even longer, but you not knowing anyone at the party, isn't his responsibility. He should have fun with his friends. Not be your babysitter.

“Well, I’m coming with you then.” His words shoot out of his mouth and hit you like a bullet. You did not expect this answer, but you shake your head in response to him.

“No, don’t. You seem to have a great time here, and I can take a cap myself.”

“I know you can, but I’ll have to take a cap later eventually and I don’t wanna pay all of that money. This way, we’ll split.” His reasoning does make sense, but you still feel like you’re robbing him from having fun at the party.

“Are you sure? I don’t want-”

“Come on, stop trying to convince me otherwise. Let’s just go.” Before you get to say anything, Seonghwa grabs your hand, locks your fingers with his, and opens the bathroom door. You try to ignore the way your hand feels in his, as he makes his way downstairs with you behind him, his large frame shielding you from the people in the crowd. He makes sure to look back at you, ensuring himself he isn’t losing you out of his sight again, already feeling terrible for leaving you like he did.

As he finally sees the front door, he abruptly stops when he notices the group by the exit. Your body almost crashes into his, but he’s quick to turn around and stop you. Worry flashes in his eyes, and you suddenly have no idea what to expect, but he’s quick to notice the way his action affects you and informs you of the situation.

“Alright, don’t look, but the guy, Daniel, from earlier and his friends are standing by the door... I really don’t trust them so just stay behind me. Okay?” He tries his best not to worry you, but you see the way his eyes look and you’re not certain of the situation. But despite the growing knot in your stomach, you nod before he turns around and makes his way to the front door.

You try your best to do as Seonghwa said and stay close to him, and you have a slight hope that the group of guys won’t notice you and Seonghwa leaving, but it quickly falls to the ground when Daniel steps in front of Seonghwa. Your body hides behind Seonghwa as he just stares Daniel straight in the eyes, waiting for him to let you guys through the door.

“Hey, sorry to bother you two again, but I didn't get your name earlier.. Haven’t I seen you before?” Daniel questions, obviously trying to provoke Seonghwa in some way.

“I don’t know, your face doesn’t seem recognizable.” Seonghwa responds, only stirring the pot, trying to annoy Daniel. A scoff leaves Daniel, and you feel the knot in your stomach grow. You really want to get out of here, as you don’t feel safe around this Daniel-guy.

You squeeze Seonghwa’s hand in yours, trying to get his attention. “Seonghwa-”

“Ohhhh, now I know! You’re the Seonghwa. Park Seonghwa, the one who is friends with San and Wooyoung!” Daniel shouts, interrupting you. You notice how people have started gathering around you like they’re waiting for something to happen. This only makes you even more nervous about the situation, and Seonghwa instantly notices your reaction to the crowd around you.

“Listen, if you have anything going on with them, it’s not my problem. Just let us get out of here.” Seonghwa’s words are soft like he doesn’t want to make the situation worse.

“Of course... Can you just give this to your friends then?” Daniel holds out a closed fist, waiting for Seonghwa to hold out his hand. But before Seonghwa gets to react, Daniel swings his arm and a punch is thrown at Seonghwa’s face. A loud gasp flies out of your mouth, and your free hand covers your mouth in shock. Your heart is beating faster than ever, almost messing up your breathing.

Seonghwa’s body turns, and he hunches over from the hit. His free hand goes to his mouth, where the salty, metallic taste of blood hits him.

“Tell your friends I said hi.” Daniel takes a step forward, hunching down close to Seonghwa as he speaks hushed to Seonghwa only. “I know the people around you, Seonghwa... I’ve seen your little girlfriend now too, so don’t fuck with me.” Daniel bites before making his way through the big crowd of people, now surrounding you. Seonghwa removes his hand to see blood coming from his lip, and for a split second, he almost loses his cool.

Daniel's friends follow him, a few of them knocking their shoulders into Seonghwa purposefully, before they all disappear into the crowd. Whispers from the staring eyes surrounding you start, and Seonghwa stands up straight before heading in the direction Daniel went. As he takes the first step, he feels a pull from his hand, and when he turns around, his heart almost breaks.

You stand before him, tears forming in your eyes, silently begging him not to go after the group. Everything stops when he sees the look in your eyes. You look scared, concerned, worried. It breaks his heart in a way he never expected, so he squeezes your hand, still in his, and looks you soft in the eyes.

“Let’s go.” He says before dragging you with him out of the house, leaving the chaotic scene. The cap is outside waiting for you, and Seonghwa helps you inside before getting in the cap himself. He tells the driver your address, remembering from when you told him before and he looks at you concerned. “Hey, are you okay?”

Your gaze shoots at him, slightly confused with his question. “Am I okay? You just got punched in the face.”

“I’m fine... But you’re crying.”

You hadn’t noticed your tears before he mentioned it, and you rub your eyes, removing the evidence. The sight of Seonghwa getting punched in the face replays in your head.

“It looked scary... Seeing you being punched like that.” You don’t know what to say, looking down at your hands, resting on your lap. You feel the rush of guilt over you for having Seonghwa interact with Daniel tonight because of you.

“I’ll just put some ice on it when I get home. It’ll probably bruise a little, but that’s all.” He tries searching for your gaze, but you keep avoiding him.

A silence fills the car, the only sound coming from the low radio in the cap. The streetlights pass you as you’re on your way home. After hours of being in the house with loud music, it should feel relieving to sit in the silence of the car. But your mind is running wild, thoughts louder than any music.

Seonghwa is about to open his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“You do this a lot? Get into fights? If I hadn’t pulled you back I’m scared you would’ve gotten into a real fight.” You finally get the courage to look at him, and he immediately shakes his head.

“No... I would’ve told him to leave us alone. Leave you alone.” He replies softly, but you still have questions flooding your mind.

“Why did he want to fight? Are your friends.. dangerous?”

Seonghwa seems taken aback by your questions and shakes his head again.

“Noo, no no, not at all! San and Wooyoung just like to pull pranks on people, and some people take their pranks a little more seriously than they intend to.” Seonghwa begins explaining, not wanting to hide anything from you. “Remember the fight I told you Wooyoung got in earlier? It was with one of the guys from Daniel's friend group, and I guess Daniel and his friends are some of those people who take their pranks a little too personally.” He tries reading the look on your face, but the cap is dark, only lit up by the streetlights outside. But the silence coming from you is enough for him to know how you feel. “I’ll talk to San tomorrow and make sure this won’t happen again. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

A heavy sigh escapes Seonghwa as he runs his fingers through his hair, the weighing feeling on his shoulders feels unbearable as the night escalated from the beginning. From the moment he saw you, he felt like he needed to protect you. Step in and make you feel safe and comfortable at the party. But as he kept talking to you, he found himself not wanting to go from you. But he kept doing so. He kept messing it up for himself, and he couldn’t stop mentally cursing at himself for doing this to you. For ruining your night, when all you deserved was a simple friend to hang out with.

He’s about to open his mouth and apologize for making your night shitty, but your words stop him.

“Please let me help you with your lip, you need to get some ice on that. That’s the least I can do.”

Confusion hits him, not sure he heard you right.

“What do you mean? This didn’t happen because of you.” He points at his mouth, blood still visible from the busted lip.

“But I feel like if I hadn’t talked to him, you wouldn’t have had to step in and save me from getting dead drunk. Please, I really want to help, you can also sleep on the couch if you wanna stay over. I have a pretty good couch if I do say so myself.”

Seonghwa doesn’t know what to say. His eyes just soften even more at the sight of you blaming yourself for something out of your control.

“But-”

“Seonghwa.” You insist again, not backing down. The guilt is taking up most of the space in your stomach, so you need him to accept your offer. He looks at you for a moment, trying to see who of the two of you backs down first. But a deep sigh leaves between Seonghwa’s lips as he realizes how stubborn you are.

“Sure.”

Silence surrounds the both of you for the rest of the ride to your apartment complex, and you feel him follow you as you exit the cap and make your way to your apartment. None of you said a word to the other in the elevator to your floor, both exhausted from the chaotic night. You unlock your front door as he awaits behind you, and he takes in the sight of your home when you both enter.

“Just... act like you’re home, you can get comfortable on the couch while I find something for your lip.” You throw your keys and purse on the small table in the hallway, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Seonghwa slowly makes his way further into your apartment while you find what’s necessary. You find some frozen peas in your freezer and wrap the bag in a towel so I won’t be too cold on his lip. Having Seonghwa in your apartment was definitely not something you ever expected to happen, but your mind is running on survival mode after the chaotic night. You also find some vaseline for the wound, along with some saltwater.

As you enter the living room, Seonghwa is studying the pictures decorating your wall. His relaxed figure, hands resting in his front pockets as he studies the pictures with a small smile.

He seems too focused on the decor in your apartment to notice your presence. “Seonghwa,” You say and he turns around, immediately looking at you with the cleaning kit you’ve gathered. “Couch.”

“Yes, boss.” Despite the weird tension from the fight, he still manages to tease you as you both get comfortable on the couch. You turn on a small lamp behind the couch to get a better view of his wound, and you start rinsing his lip with the saltwater.

He winces at the touch, and you look apologetic at him as you continue to remove the dried blood from his lip. You try to make it quick, not wanting him to be in more pain, and quickly put pressure on the lip with the frozen peas.

“Hold this.” You say.

Seonghwa goes to grab the bag and his large hand covers yours while doing so. You can’t help but notice how small your hand is compared to his, and the warmth from his adds a significant contrast to the frozen peas, freezing in your palm. Shocked by the feeling he gives you, you pull your hand away, leaving him to hold the peas alone against his lip.

“It feels nice,” His voice gets deeper as he relaxes on your couch and leans back. “You really are an angel, aren't you?” There's a teasing in his voice, but the words have a bigger chokehold on you than you would like to admit.

Seonghwa’s eyes close, and you take this opportunity to really study his features, and the first thing you notice is how incredibly handsome he is. His black hair looks more messy compared to the beginning of the night, now constantly resting before his eyes. He hasn’t done anything to fix it for a while, and a part of you wants to remove it, but the messy look suits him better than ever.

He looks so soft relaxing against the pillows on your couch, the light behind you perfectly highlighting certain parts of his face. His lips are slightly parted, long eyelashes resting on the top of his cheekbones and his breathing gets softer the more relaxed he is.

Before you catch yourself doing something you might regret, you shake your head to yourself and look away from him.

“Thank you for helping me tonight. My impression of you has only gotten better.” You say, breaking the silence. Tonight’s party left you with a weird feeling, but if it hadn’t been for Seonghwa, you wouldn’t even imagine what would have happened to you.

His eyes open, instantly focusing on you with a soft look.

“Did you have a bad impression of me before?” He asks curiously.

“No, not at all. Tonight just confirmed that you don’t fit into the popular-asshole-category. More the popular-nice-guy-category.” Your shoulders lift to a shrug, and your eyes lock in the dimmed light. You notice a flash of something unknown in his eyes as the words leave your mouth. He gets silent once again, looking away from you before taking a deep breath.

“I don’t see myself as popular thought.” He admits. You suddenly wish he could see himself from your perspective. This man was the blueprint of the perfect, popular guy. Has many friends, is nice, is invited to all the parties, everyone knows him. Not to forget all the girls searching for his attention.

“Are you serious? The amount of girls I saw drooling over you tonight, is actually insane.”

“Yeah, but they just want me to fuck them,” His eyes shoot back at you. “It’s only superficial from their side.”

You’re taken aback by the way this conversation is going, not knowing how to respond. There’s a subtle hint of hurt in his voice, but also acceptance. Like this is just the way it is.

“Sounds like you’ve got some experience with that.” You say.

“Mhm.. That’s how it is with these people,” He shrugs, still relaxing against the big cushions on the couch, letting his eyes travel away from you to gather his thoughts. “You party at the same house, with the same people with the same mindset, every weekend. Maybe, you find someone interesting, take them to an empty room, and you fuck each other. Then you walk out of there and don’t talk until the next party, where you fuck again. These people want to feel love, but they don’t actually want it.”

The way he talks about the parties sounds similar to how your best friend describes them. She loves the chaotic energy it brings, how people are kind of the same, looking for the same thing. But Seonghwa’s description doesn’t sound as appealing as when she talks about it. And it all reminds you again, why you aren’t going to these parties every weekend.

“Do you want it?” You ask. “Love?”

“I want it with the right person,” He still looks away from you, letting out his thoughts. “I used to like this environment. Going to parties, having girls throw themselves at me, feeling like I could get whatever I wanted without having to make an effort. It made me feel.. powerful. But I also started to feel used. Like I wasn’t more than a good fuck to them.”

He then looks back at you, and you now understand where the hurt in his voice came from.

Never had you expected this about Seonghwa, he always seemed like he thrived in the popularity and the benefits that came with it.

But maybe he was right. It is all superficial.

“Well, not to be that person, but I feel like they’re missing out if they don’t get to know you.” You send him a smile, trying your best to light the mood with the truth in your words.

“And you say that like you know me.” His lips tug into a smirk.

“I feel like I’m starting to have a pretty good idea of who you are.”

“And who am I?”

You take a moment to think, considering the pros and cons of telling him.

“I don’t wanna say, in case I’m wrong and it bites me in the ass.” Your words leave him smiling. This side of Seonghwa is the purest you’ve seen so far.

In class, he’s usually very talkative and once again, popular. But this Seonghwa, who’s opening up to you like you’ve known each other for years, has a depth you have never seen in him. And the more you get to know him, the less you understand how someone can sleep with him and not feel the need to know him for him.

Just by the conversations you’ve shared tonight, you’re intrigued by his welcoming personality, his need to protect the ones around him, and his warm smile.

You look away from his eyes and down to the frozen bag of peas, still pressed against his lip. “How does your lip feel?”

“Swollen. Is it?” He removes the bag and turns his head so you can get a better view of the busted lip. The light from the lamp behind you doesn’t really do its justice, and only creates shadows from your heads instead.

“Turn your head to the light,” You guide him, and he turns again but it doesn’t help. “Here, let me.”

You gently grab a hold of his face and scoop closer to him as you turn his head. The light perfectly shows you the condition of his lip, and you do your best to see any swelling. But the more you look at his lips, you can’t seem to look away.

They’re slightly parted, and as he gently relaxes in your hands, you can’t help but realize how perfect they look. The color, the shape. Everything comes together, and you suddenly wonder how it would be to be kissed by those lips. How soft of a kiss he would leave on your lips, or how they could leave traces of kisses down your skin. All while speaking with the mildness in his voice, and the gentle touch from his fingers travel over you.

You suddenly realize where your thoughts were taking you, and you look up to his eyes, to see him stare back at you.

Heart pounding hard against your chest, you let go of his face and scoop away from him on the couch.

“Uhm, it looks okay, just make sure to put on the Vaseline and you’ll be good,” You stand up from the couch and point to the blankets next to him. “There are blankets and pillows on the couch, so make yourself at home, and if you need anything just knock on my door.” You rub your palms on your hips, trying to get rid of the sweatiness.

Seonghwa looks up at you from the couch, sending you a smile.

“Alright. Thank you.”

Not knowing what to do and mentally cursing yourself for having those thoughts about him, you quickly make your way to your bedroom.

“Goodnight, Seonghwa.”

“Goodnight, angel.”

***

Nervous to open the door from your bedroom, you take a deep breath before pulling down the handle. Silence rings in the hallway leading to the living room where Seonghwa slept for the night.

Your roaming mind had Seonghwa as the main character in your thoughts the entire night. After getting closer to each other last night, you had no idea how to behave normally in the morning. But you slowly made your way down the hallway, towards the living room, expecting to see Seonghwa on the couch. But when you peek your head out, afraid to wake him up in case he is still sleeping, you see an empty couch, blankets nicely folded and pillows perfectly lined up.

Your brows come together in question at the sight, but you quickly notice what awaits you on the small table by the couch. You step closer to see a coffee and a small brown bag with a sticky note attached to it.

Confusion speaks for itself when you grab the sticky note from the bag and look around the living room before reading.

Good morning! Hope you slept well! :) My boss called me.. Someone called in sick and they needed one asap, so I had to step in.. Sorry to leave out of the blue, but I made a quick run to the cafe on the corner and bought you some breakfast as a thank you for the help last night!

Have a good day, angel

A smile creeps up on your lips as you read the note. Curiosity washes over you and you open the small brown bag, to find a bun and a chocolate muffin waiting for you. You look at the iced coffee, still cold with ice slowly melting, indicating he didn’t leave a long time ago.

Once again, you feel a warmth in your body, and you slowly allow the caged butterflies to escape.

***

New week, same school day, same seat. Nothing feels different when you sit in your classroom, on Monday morning, waiting for the day to start. You’ve gathered the things you need for the first class, writing some notes in your notebook when you feel a presence looking at you.

“Hi...” Your best friend says, looking guilty.

You haven’t spoken to her since she left you at the party, and you would lie if you said you weren’t a little disappointed in her for ditching you the way she did.

You simply give her a cold smile and look back down at your notes. She knows you well, and you’re not furious with her - she knows that. It takes a lot for you to get actually angry at people, but she deserved the cold shoulder for a bit

“I’m so sorry for disappearing at the party,” She sits down on the chair next to you. “Really, that was so shitty of me.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I promise it won’t happen again.” Her whole body is turned towards you as you are silently giving her the side-eye, but as mad as you try to be, you can’t. You genuinely want to show her how disappointed you are, but if she hadn’t left you at the party, you wouldn’t have spoken to Seonghwa in the first place. Her crush. So not saying you’re happy she left you, but you definitely see the positive in this situation, which in this case happens to be a dark-haired boy with a busted lip.

“Hm..” You respond, looking back in your notes.

You feel her eyes on you for a moment, before she leans forward and whispers in your ear.

“Mingi and I really had fun though, he’s so sweet.” The smile is evident in her voice, and you finally turn your head to look at her.

“Well, I’m glad ditching me had its benefits.” Your words seem to finally get her to understand the situation, and she takes a moment to read your eyes and feel the disappointment.

“I’m sorry.. Really.” Her voice softens, filled with genuine guilt and you send her a broken smile.

“It’s fine.”

You both exchange warm looks before she unpacks and you both silently decide to move on.

“Did you have fun at the party, though? Did you talk to anyone?” She asks, back to normal like nothing happened.

You freeze for a moment, deciding if you should lie or tell the truth. You still hadn’t decided if you should ever tell her that you had her crush staying over at your place and that he happened to be your knight in shining armor. You know she’s been crushing on a few guys from school, some more than others, but you also know that Seonghwa is one of her favorites. Multiple times, she has opened up about how bad she wants him and that he’s, quote on quote; “Made for her”. If you tell her the situation, you’re scared she’ll get mad at you for breaking the girl code.

Your friend’s crush is off limits.

You know you haven’t done anything wrong, and nothing happened between you and Seonghwa, so you decide there's no need for her to know about anything.

“I talked to a few here and there.” Is all you say about the situation.

“How did you get home? Did you take a cab by yourself? I hope it wasn’t too expensive.”

Once again, you take a moment to figure out what to answer, without saying her crush actually paid for the shared ride home to your apartment.

“I shared a cap with someone who was going the same way as me.” You respond, hoping she won’t ask further, but you quickly notice she’s barely listening.

“He’s so fucking hot...” She mumbles, and your eyes search for whoever her gaze is locked on, but you quickly realize when you see who enters the room.

Seonghwa is walking into the classroom with his bag hanging on his shoulder and messy black wavy hair. He’s wearing a shaded blue denim jacket with a white tee underneath and black loose jeans. He looks so put together, even if he isn’t even trying, and for the first time since you started school, you’ve become one of those girls who stare at him when he enters the class.

You expect him to sit at his usual seat on the other side of the room, but he confidently walks past it and towards your side. This catches your attention even more, leaving you and your best friend in awe as you see him walk closer to you.

Seonghwa finds a seat a few seats in front of you, and as he swings the bag of his shoulder, his eyes meet yours.

They’re warm and he locks his gaze on you while a smile creeps up on his lips. You can’t help but smile back like you’re both silently saying hello to each other through your eyes. This is the first time you’ve made eye contact with Seonghwa in class, and you can’t seem to look away while he smiles at you.

But trying not to be too obvious, you force yourself to look away before he sits down, and your gaze goes to the notebook in front of you.

“Did you see that?” You hear your best friend say.

“What?”

“He smiled at me.” Your eyes shoot to her, confused to see her stare at Seonghwa who now sits down in his seat, back facing you. Not being able to open your mouth and tell her that he was actually smiling at you, you bite your words and start scribbling on your notebook.

“Oh.. I didn’t see.”

“Did you hear he got into a fight at the party?” She leans towards you, ready to start gossiping.

A fight. The party. Daniel.

In panic, you shake your head and pretend you didn’t witness it, front row.

“Shit, I hoped you had seen it so you could tell me the details. But people say it was about a girl.”

“What?”

People? Are people talking? About you? And Seonghwa?

“I know, that’s what I said. A girl was with him when it happened but they apparently left right after. They don’t know who she is, probably just someone’s plus one.” She shrugs and starts scribbling something in her own notebook.

You feel horrible knowing the exact situation, and not being able to tell your best friend the details. But one of the reasons you also hated these parties was the drama. The newest gossip after a spicy weekend. People always had something to say, and you didn’t want to be the next hot topic.

“What about you and Mingi, though? You’re gonna start seeing him?” You look at her, trying to change the subject. It seems to work because your best friend just shrugs as she looks unbothered by the whole situation.

“Nah, you know how I am. I’m not looking for anything serious, I like to have my options open.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, and Seonghwa's words replay in your mind.

Maybe, you find someone interesting, take them to an empty room, and you fuck each other. Then you walk out of there and don’t talk until the next party, where you fuck again. These people want to feel love, but they don’t actually want it.

It leaves another taste in your mouth when you know how Seonghwa has opened up to you about how he feels, about going to these parties.

But I also started to feel used. Like I wasn’t more than a good fuck to them.

You had a certain respect for your best friend for doing whatever she wanted, but you also found Seonghwa’s feelings valid. There had to be a downside to the popularity and girls wanting to sleep with you without attachments.

Your thoughts about Saturday's events are slowly replaced when class starts, and the focus is on the teacher in front of the whiteboard. Class goes by rather quickly, and students then leave the classroom to go to the next one. Having to exchange the books for the new class, you make your way to your locker, after agreeing to meet your best friend at the classroom.

You’re in your own world when a tall frame suddenly stands beside you.

“Hey.” Seonghwa’s warm voice slightly surprises you. This is the first time you’ve spoken in school, and somehow, it almost feels illegal.

“Oh... Hi.”

“I just wanted to apologize for disappearing yesterday without saying goodbye. I just didn’t want to wake you up.” You can see the clear guilt in his eyes, and you immediately shake your head as you grab the new books from your locker.

“Don’t worry about it, It’s totally fine. I appreciated the breakfast though.”

He somehow seems taller today, looking down at you. His sharp features look as perfect as they did on Saturday, his eyes looking like the entire universe could fit into them.

“Yeah, I thought I had to thank you in some way for letting me stay the night. And for taking care of my lip.”

You notice the dark mark on his lip as he talks, the wound already healing.

“I think my frozen peas did most of the work, but you’re welcome. Does it hurt?” You still can’t help but feel a little guilty for him getting punched in the face, but you’re glad to see it heal this fast.

“No, it’s only a bit bruised, but I’ll be as good as new in a few days. Will I see you at the party on Friday?” He relaxes with his hands in his pockets as he leans up against the lockers.

You realize again how he has this typical popular-boy-charm. He looks cool and could make anyone believe he could have the world in his hands if he wanted to.

“Uhm.. I don’t usually party multiple weekends in a row.”

“I know, that’s why I’m asking.”

He’s quick with his words, and he doesn’t hide the smirk on his bruised lip as he smiles at you. You take a moment to think.

“I have to work, so I can’t.” You excuse, while actually telling the truth.

“Oh, where do you work?” A small wrinkle forms between his brows.

“At the mall, I have a closing shift... But I hope you’ll have fun at the party though. As much as I appreciate you keeping me company last Saturday, I think it’s good you get to spend time with your friends instead of taking care of me, who apparently doesn’t know how to take care of myself.” You laugh at yourself, trying to make light of the situation, and before Seonghwa can answer, someone snatches his attention.

“Hwa!” Seonghwa’s friend group all stare at the two of you talking, some of them indicating him to come as they are headed to class.

“l have to go.. I’ll see you around?” He slowly backs away and doesn’t turn around until you nod and he sends a smile in your direction, as he runs after his friends.

***

Another sigh leaves you as you look away from the words written in your book. You don't know how long your eyes have been going over the same sentence, trying to get the words to stick to your brain, but it’s simply impossible at this point.

Your eyes travel around the library from your seat, looking at the multiple other students here to expand their knowledge. The old books decorating the walls around you help with concentration, almost as if you feel bad for not studying while they’re watching.

You take off your headphones, needing a break from studying when a conversation from the other side of the shelf steals your focus.

“Girl, come on. Are you really surprised at this point? Have you seen him?.” A female voice says.

“Right, I hooked up with him once and I swear I couldn’t walk normally for days.” Another voice says.

The typical drama flooding around wasn’t new, especially not in the library. People seem to think it's the perfect place to sit in silence and gossip, clearly not aware that everyone else hears the conversation as well. You weren’t in the mood to hear someone talk like this about someone else, and you had been studying for a few hours already. Deciding this is your cue to leave, you start to pack your things while the gossiping continues on the other side.

“Am I right? Who would’ve thought that nice personality held back a demon in Seonghwa.“

You immediately freeze when you hear Seonghwa’s name in the conversation. Were they talking about him?

“For real! Without a doubt the best guy I've been with. I mean have you seen his hands?”

Your thoughts immediately go to the thought of Seonghwa’s hands, how his hand covered yours when holding the bag of peas on his lip. How big they were, slender fingers making everything he does look so elegant.

Feeling a weird sensation in your stomach from this information, you decide to speed up and get out of the library before you hear another word.

The heat in your cheeks turns into a light shade of pink as you step outside, deciding to make your way home. In need of fresh air, you let your legs guide you toward your apartment complex.

Overhearing those girls’ conversation about Seonghwa left you with thoughts you didn’t know existed in your mind. Seonghwa had been nothing but nice to you since the party, and of course, you agreed that he was beyond handsome. But after hearing what they had to say about him, only enhanced the number of thoughts about him.

I hooked up with him once and I swear I couldn’t walk normally for days.

Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you decide to walk the rest of the way home, in desperate need of fresh air.

***

You didn’t think a week could go this slow. School was as boring as ever, and every day looked the same. Except, the new ‘same’ was that Seongwha and you had small interactions during the week. A smile here and there, a wave when seeing each other, and small talk by the lockers.

You had a feeling that Seonghwa knew you didn’t want your best friend to ask you about your growing friendship with him, so he only came to talk whenever you were alone. It wasn’t that you were trying to hide the fact that you and Seonghwa were slowly becoming friends, but you knew she would question you if she knew. She would ask questions about every single thing about him, all in hopes that you would help her hook up with him, and you simply weren't interested in that.

Seonghwa was becoming a friend of yours, a friendship you never expected to happen, but you didn’t mind it in the slightest.

But that doesn't mean your mind hasn’t drifted to the conversation you overheard in the library.

When talking to Seonghwa, you’ve caught yourself looking awfully much at his hands. Or when he was sitting in class, you’d admire him a little more than you’d like to admit.

You didn’t think it meant anything, but you definitely didn’t plan on sharing those thoughts with anyone either.

It’s finally Friday, and you’re closing off at your closing shift. The mall closed at eight, but you had to make sure everything was ready for the morning shift, so you walked out around 8:30. Not having anything to do after work, you took your sweet time finishing up. Your fingers tapped your phone screen, trying to find the perfect song in your headphones as you made your way out of the mall and towards the bus stop. The chilly late summer night air hit you as you stepped outside, finally finding a song you’re satisfied with.

You look up but immediately stop in your tracks.

On a bench, outside the mall in front of the parking lot, Seonghwa is sitting by himself, fiddling with his fingers. There’s not a single person in sight, making Seonghwa stand out. Your brows shoot together in confusion as you watch him. He’s in his own world and you slowly make your way towards him.

The sound of your feet against the concrete makes his head shoot up and his gaze direct at you. A smile tugs on his lips, and he lifts his hand to send you a wave.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, stopping a few meters away from him.

“I’m waiting for you to get off work.” He stands up from the bench before taking a few steps towards you.

You notice how the scrape on his lip is practically gone already.

“I thought you were going to the party.”

“I was. Was there for 10 minutes, realized it was boring as hell, drove home, and waited for the mall to close so I could pick you up.” He makes it sound like it was the most normal thing for him to do.

“You really didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Seonghwa sends you a smile and starts walking towards his black car, parked only a few meters away. “Come on, just accept my offer and let me give you a ride home, it’s late and it’s dark,” He opens the door to the passenger seat and looks at you, frozen in your place. “I won’t bite, I promise.”

You eventually get in his car, and he’s quick to get in the driver’s seat. You immediately notice the car is neat, and clean and smells like Seonghwa. He turns on the car and starts driving towards the parking lot exit.

“Have you eaten?” He asks, eyes still on the road.

“I had a snack.”

“A snack? Come on, a snack won’t do it.” He drives onto the main road, in the direction of your apartment.

“I’ll eat when I get home.” You roll your eyes at him teasingly.

“I know a good place, I hope you’re up for trying for the best milkshake in your life.” He makes a u-turn and you’re suddenly headed towards an unknown location.

“Seonghwa.” You look at him, a hint of seriousness in your voice. It isn’t that you have anything better to do, but you aren’t mentally prepared to hang out with him. You don’t feel like you look your best, and you don’t want to steal his time.

“What?” He flickers his gaze from you to the road. His boba-looking black eyes meet yours for a second before looking straight ahead, and when you quickly notice the glimpse in them, it’s like you can’t say no to him. He looks so full of excitement, that you swallow your words and send him a smile.

“Nothing.”

Seonghwa drove you both to a diner, a little outside of town. You’ve never been here before, but the neon sign and the old-school 60’s aesthetic left an evident impression on you. Seonghwa opens the door for you, and you’re immediately hit with the feeling that you just stepped into the movie 'Grease'.

You’re met with black and white checkered floor, red booths, and a jukebox in the corner. Seonghwa’s excitement is through the roof as he guides you towards one of the booths further down the diner, with his hand on the small of your back.

You try your best not to pay too much attention to how his touch makes you feel, and quickly focus on something else. You sit down across from each other, the two of you being the only ones there, except the elderly gentleman in the corner, reading a paper.

You’re reading the menu when a waitress comes over, and you immediately notice the way she looks at Seonghwa.

“Hi, welcome.” Her flirtatious voice speaks. She has bright red lips, a dress that covers just the top of her thigh, and an apron tied around her waist, making her curves more visible.

“Hi.” Seonghwa smiles, taking his focus from the menu to the waitress.

“What can I get for you?”

“Can I have the medium cheeseburger menu, please?” Seonghwa asks as he points to the menu.

“Of course.” She responds as she writes down his order on her notepad. You wait until it’s your turn to order, but as silence surrounds you and you notice how she’s just staring at you, you come to your senses.

“Uhm.. I’ll just have the small fry menu, thank you.”

She writes down your order in silence, and you feel awkward, sitting across Seonghwa as this waitress barely notices you.

“Would you like,” The waitress looks Seonghwa up and down. “Anything else?”

A part of you wants to laugh at the scene playing in front of your eyes, watching Seonghwa and this waitress flirt with each other. Seonghwa scans the menu card like he doesn’t know it front to back.

“Do you still have the chocolate milkshake with the drizzle and strawberries on top?” He asks, looking up at the waitress.

“No, we don’t actually..” She shakes her head for a second but takes a short moment to think before speaking up again. “Not officially, at least, but I can make it for you anyway? It’ll be our secret.” She bites her bottom lip and for some reason, you have to fight everything in you not to roll your eyes and scoff.

“Really? That would be amazing.” Seonghwa responds, handing her your menus.

“Anytime.. Let me know if I can help you with anything else. Can I ask what your name is?”

“I’m Seonghwa.”

“I’ll be right back with your milkshake, Seonghwa.” She sends her last smile before disappearing into the kitchen. Seonghwa looks at you satisfied, not realizing how his conversation looked to everyone but him and the waitress.

“I see why you like coming here.” You say.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” You mumble and look away, out the window. There’s a huge neon sign with the diner’s logo on the parking lot, shining through the windows. The low music from the jukebox is playing 60’s instrumentals, making sure to give the customers the full diner experience.

“Because she flirted with me?” You look at him to see his smirk. He’s staring intensely at you, slightly enjoying seeing the way you try to avoid his eyes. You respond with a nod and a “mhm.”

“Did I flirt back?” He asks, squinting his eyes at you. There’s a small hint of jealousy in your stomach as you talk about this, him talking with this girl who’s obviously very into him, but you obviously don’t let that side of you out.

“I don’t know how you are when you flirt.” You shrug.

“Are you sure?” lifting an eyebrow at you. You want to say yes, but the way he’s looking at you, makes you doubt everything you know. Your silence is enough of an answer for Seonghwa, and he rolls his eyes. “To answer my own question; no, I didn’t flirt with her. I’m surprised you couldn’t tell.”

“I haven’t known you for long, how should I know?” You almost want to laugh at how ridiculous this conversation seems.

“You don’t have to know me for long to know.” His words shut you up, and you stare at him, sitting confidently on the other side of the booth. The way he’s in some blatantly obvious way flirting with you, somehow makes you doubt everything. It’s like you can’t wrap your head around the fact that he’s so forward with his words. You don’t get to say more before the waitress comes back and places a chocolate milkshake on the table.

“Here’s your milkshake, Seonghwa. Your food will be ready in 10 minutes, let me know if I can do anything else for you.” She sends him a warm smile again, not once acknowledging your presence.

“Thank you,” He smiles back at her when she walks away, and immediately leans over the table to lower his voice as he speaks. “I didn’t even know she worked here. I’m usually assisted by my friend Barbara, running on her 68th year. The reason why I like coming here is because of this heavenly milkshake I just ordered for us. They only have it once in a while, but if you’re with me, you can get it all the time.” He leans back in the booth, looking more confident than ever.

“Must be nice having pretty privilege when it comes to milkshakes.” You tease, and he looks up at you, trying to hide his laugh.

“I don’t know what I think about your cocky attitude when I’m taking you out to dinner and picking you up from work.”

“I didn’t ask you to do either of those things.”

“No, you didn’t. And yet you still claim you don’t know how I flirt,” He pushes the milkshake closer to you, as you stare at him, not knowing how to react to his words. “Here, try it. Try it and tell me it’s not the best thing you’ve ever tasted on your tongue.”

You squint your eyes at him, before dragging the chocolate milkshake closer to you. It’s tall, has the perfect color of a chocolate milkshake, has a mix of different drizzles, and has three bright red strawberries decorated on top. You lean forward to take a sip from the straw, and an overwhelming flavor bursts in your mouth.

“Oh, it’s good.” You admit.

“I know, right? All thanks to my pretty privilege.”

You and Seonghwa spend more time at the diner than you thought you would, talking about everything and nothing. During the hours across from each other in the red booth, you ended up realizing that this was the best way you could spend the night.

You were now in the car on the way home, and summer rain had started pouring against the windows. Pools of water decorate the streets, mirroring the light from the street lamps.

“So,” You start, looking at Seonghwa from the passenger seat. “You’re giving parties a new chance tomorrow?” You’re not searching for a specific answer, but after he opened up to you last weekend, you’re curious about him going to the parties.

“I’m not sure. The guys and I are talking about having a small get-together, just the few of us. You should come, bring your friend too.” He says, looking relaxed as he drives you home.

“I don’t know.. These social things still intimidate me.” You don’t see yourself going to any of these parties for a while.

“It’s more lowkey than the parties, I swear.” He sends you a smile and hands you his phone from the center console. “Put your number in my phone, I’ll text you the details if you decide to come.”

You slowly grab his phone from his hand, surprised by how relaxed he seems. It’s already unlocked, and you’re about to make a new contact when his phone suddenly rings. The caller ID is a girl's name, and you freeze, not knowing what to do.

“Oh.. Someone’s calling.” You say, showing Seonghwa the screen.

“Just press ignore.” He answers quickly.

“Are you sure?”

He nods as he keeps his focus on the road, driving through the puddles on the road. You continue where you left off, adding your number, but the girl’s name appears on the screen again as another call goes in.

The fact that a girl is calling him, shortly throws you off. It’s probably not new for him to have girls hit him up constantly, but it makes you feel awkward.

Seonghwa notices how you freeze with the phone in your hands. The car stops at a red light, and you hand him the phone while it’s still calling. You try not to snoop too much, but you can’t help but watch from the side of your eye, what he does. He ignores the call again, goes to the girl’s contact, and blocks the number, before handing you the phone again.

“There.” He says.

You finish adding your number to his contacts, saving it under your name, just as another call goes in. This time from Wooyoung, as the screen reads.

“Now Wooyoung is calling.” You show Seonghwa the screen and he makes an annoyed sound.

“You gotta be kidding me..” He gently grabs the phone from your hand, answers the call, and puts it on speaker before placing the phone on the center console. “What?” He asks into the phone.

“Where the fuck are you?” Wooyoung’s voice almost sounds panicked.

“I left.”

“What? Bro, you need to come back. ‘You know who’ keeps asking for you and I’m about to lose my fucking mind.” Wooyoung explains, but Seonghwa’s face doesn’t show a care in the world, as the light turns green.

“Not my problem, I’m not coming back.”

“Why? Where are you?” Wooyoung’s question hangs in the air for a moment before Seonghwa sighs deeply.

“At your mom's, see you tomorrow.”

“WHAT DO YOU-” Wooyoung’s voice is cut short when Seonghwa ends the call. The childish behavior they seem to have makes you hold back a laugh. You haven’t spoken to Wooyoung before, only knowing him as one of the popular guys, but what you’ve gathered about him so far, really sums up a chaotic personality.

“And that’s how you deal with that. Did you put your number in?” Seonghwa asks, glancing at you as he holds out his phone with a smile. It's dark outside, but his teeth still shine so brightly when he’s smiling. His entire face lights up when he smiles, making the darkness brighter.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

The drive home is quick from that point on, and Seonghwa offers to follow you to the door but to save him from getting drenched, you convince him not to. You’re quick to run inside to hide yourself from the rain, managing to get inside without getting soaked.

In your own world, you get ready to sleep. It’s gotten late, and you’re exhausted from school, work, and late dinner with Seonghwa.

You get under your covers, ready to lay with your phone for a while before actually getting some sleep when your lips curl into a smile from a received text.

Unknown Goodnight, Angel

It takes you no time to figure out who sent the message, and you reply as the butterflies slowly spread throughout your body.

You Goodnight, Hwa

***

You have no idea what you’re doing. You promised yourself a relaxed weekend, without any parties or anything close to it, and you kept that promise for the most part! You had initially texted Seonghwa that you wouldn’t come to the get-together, but thanked him for inviting you.

Partially because telling your friend that Seonghwa invited you, would indicate you and Seonghwa had contact, and you weren’t ready for that conversation with your best friend yet. But you didn’t expect your best friend to hit you up Saturday evening, inviting you to a small get-together at Mingi’s place.

After she sent you the information, you immediately realized it was the same information Seonghwa had given you. This changed something, the fear of missing out suddenly hit you. Therefore, at the last second, you decided to accept your best friend's offer and join her at Mingi’s, but promising yourself not to drink too much.

“Come on in!” Mingi says as he opens the door further. When stepping through the front door, you hear music and voices from further into the apartment. Mingi’s apartment is bigger than you thought, as you expected a small dorm, but are instead met with a rather big apartment. The decor is very minimal, the most he’s done is plastering a few posters up here and there. You feel a flip in your stomach at the thought of seeing Seonghwa in a few seconds but you quickly push the thought away when your best friend grabs your arm and drags you into the living room.

You’re met with four guys sitting in the living room, and your eyes immediately notice Seonghwa. He’s leaning back on the couch, a slight tug on his lips from listening to the conversation before him, and in a black hoodie with baggy jeans.

His eyes travel to you, a flash of something apparent in them for a second and slight confusion written on his face. The confusion is quickly replaced by a smile spreading on his lips, probably still a little confused by seeing you since you texted him you weren’t coming.

You feel his eyes on you as you look around to see the other guys, San sharing the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung sitting by Seonghwa’s legs on the floor. Mingi sits down on the floor as well, inviting you and your best friend to get comfortable too.

“Do you guys wanna sit on the couch?” San asks, about to get up, but your best friend quickly speaks up.

“No, that’s fine!” She sits down next to Mingi (shocking, you think), and you join her on the other side of on floor. You knew she and Mingi hooked up last weekend.

And you couldn’t help but hope she would leave her attention on him and forget about Seonghwa for the night.

You try not to make it too obvious how bad your eyes want to go to Seonghwa, but you eventually succumb and look at him, surprised to see him with his gaze already locked on you.

You haven’t heard him say a word yet, yet you know everything his gaze is saying.

You came anyways?

You shrug with a smile, and look away, trying not to make the heat in your cheeks too apparent.

Alcohol is gathered in the middle of the circle, San opens a six-pack of beers before handing a can to Seonghwa, but Wooyoung is quick to snatch it.

“Seonghwa is not drinking tonight, he’s being a bore.” He says, cracking open the beer before taking a sip. He almost spills as Seonghwa kicks him in the back, wiping the beer away from his chin.

“If I wasn’t a bore, you wouldn’t be sipping on those beers. I had to drive to a place 25 minutes away because you forgot to buy some.” Seonghwa shakes his head, slightly annoyed with the younger.

“You’re right, thanks mommy.” Wooyoung sends Seonghwa a loving smile, but Seongwha only responds by rolling his eyes.

The decision you’ve made not to get too drunk seems like a good idea as the night escalates and more beers are opened. The volume in the group gets louder as more alcohol is consumed and laughs are shared over silly topics. This all eventually ended with the group deciding to play various drinking games, which you silently participated in.

It was obvious that you were the newest addition to the group, not knowing them all very well. And that really showed when they decided to play ‘who’s most likely to’. An explicit version, at that.

“Who’s most likely to sleep with a teacher?” Mingi asks, looking around at everyone before starting the countdown. “3..2..1..”

There's silence as everyone, besides you, points around, and everyone points at San. The man looks down looking embarrassed, even pointing at himself.

“She was 27 at the time. Only 6 years older than me, it isn’t that big of a deal.” San explains before taking a sip of his beer.

“She was still a teacher.” Wooyoung comments.

“Substitute. The key word is substitute.” San eyes Wooyoung who only starts a small discussion about the situation, leaving you to observe the two. A smile creeps up on your lips at the conversation before you, but you can't help but look at the person directly across from you, meeting Seonghwa’s eyes again.

Looking at him was like excluding the rest of the world for a moment. His lips curled into a subtle smile, only keeping his focus on you and ignoring the bickering from his two friends. Hoping no one notices the way you look at each other, you look away, taking a sip from your first beer.

The game eventually moves on, San having to pick the next ‘most likely to’.

“Who’s most likely to be the best fuck?” He asks, a smile creeping up on his lips as he gets ready to count down. “3..2..1..”

The majority of fingers point at Seonghwa, him sitting relaxed on the couch, only watching the game unfold. There’s a short silence around the group before Wooyoung speaks up.

“There’s a reason why at least 5 girls flirt with him at every party. They all want a piece of that Seongwhanger.”

“Don’t ever call it that.” Seonghwa snaps, looking at his friend by his legs.

“Am I wrong though?” Wooyoung laughs.

You only watch as the others add to the conversation while you drift into your own thoughts. You’re reminded of the conversation you overheard in the library, those girls talking about their encounters with Seonghwa in the.. bedroom.

Having Seonghwa’s best friends knowing about his abilities when it comes to sex, as well as those random girls, would mean it must be a thing people knew. Somehow, you had just missed that information.

“I’m intrigued.. Why do you guys think Seonghwa is most likely?” Your best friend asks, looking around at the guys.

“If you knew the screams I’ve heard from the girls he’s fucked. That alone tells me everything I need to know.” Wooyoung answered.

You suddenly enter a topic you had not prepared yourself for, and that results in you feeling restless. The thought of Seonghwa fucking hard, has your mind playing a dangerous game with you. You don’t know where to look, where to keep your hands, how to breathe.

Whenever your eyes landed on Seonghwa, all you saw was him.

Naked. On top of you.

“I spoke to a girl he fucked once. She told me she saw heaven and hell at the same time.” San adds.

“Guys..” Seonghwa tries to stop the conversation, or at least make it less explicit, but the others don't seem to follow along.

“Come on, Hwa. It isn’t something to be embarrassed about, own it!” Wooyoung hits Seonghwa’s leg in an accepting manner.

“I am, but in respect for the girls... Let’s not.”

Wooyoung clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head. “You know how they brag about it, they want to be talked about after. They all wanna be a part of the Seongweenie club”

“Stop!” Seonghwa’s eyes grow big at Wooyoung’s constant name-calling.

Your best friend laughs next to you, enjoying this conversation more than anyone else. You try to look at Seonghwa again, but when his eyes meet yours, you instantly look away. It’s like you can’t look at him and not have your thoughts stray to less innocent territories. You finish your beer, feeling slightly grateful for the way it leaves you feeling.

“You guys are embarrassing, why do you know these things about each other?” Your best friend asks as her laugh dies down, curious about this conversation. San looks at her, scooting away from Seonghwa on the couch so he can speak at a lower volume like Seonghwa wouldn’t hear him.

“Because at this point, it’s common knowledge. I don’t want it to sound weird, but I’ve heard a lot from the girls he's been with. The things this man does,” San points over his shoulder at Seonghwa. “Don’t let his nice persona fool you guys.”

“The thing is, Seonghwa is just way too humble about it.” Mingi adds, shrugging.

Your eyes quickly travel to Seonghwa, looking defeated, before Wooyoung steals your focus as he stands up.

“I’m just surprised you’re not bragging about it more. If I were you, I would be telling everyone about my Shlonghwa.”

Wooyoung barely finishes his sentence before Seonghwa runs after Wooyoung out of the living room and they disappear in the hallway. All you hear is Wooyoung's muffled laugh, as you hear him run, and you finally take a moment to breathe, now that Seonghwa isn’t in your eyesight.

Another topic is suddenly going on amongst the rest of you, but you can’t seem to move on from the information you just got.

She told me she saw heaven and hell at the same time.

Your brain keeps going over and over the words from Seonghwa’s friends. You didn’t expect to ever hear these things about him, and it honestly shocks you a bit. You knew he was popular amongst the girls, but you thought it came from how nice he was (as well as incredibly handsome). But now, knowing many of them want to sleep with him because, like Wooyoung said, “they brag about it, they want to be talked about after”, only adds to your thoughts.

The conversation you shared with Seonghwa after the last party, suddenly made even more sense to you. Even Seonghwa’s friends knew how many girls were wondering how it would be to sleep with him.

And so you feel an incredible guilt for wondering the same.

How his hands would run down your body, lips tracing kisses all over you as he has his way with you.

“I’ll be right back.” Your best friend wakes you from your thoughts before she disappears into the hallway. Wanting to remove the thoughts about Seonghwa from your brain, you try to focus on the conversation between San and Mingi, but it doesn’t help at all.

Shaking the empty can of beer, you are in desperate need of something to help with your dry mouth. You excuse yourself as you stand up, decide to get some water instead of beer, and make your way to the kitchen.

You manage to find the kitchen without any help, but your body immediately backtracks when you see who’s in there, and you hide behind the wall before they see you. Your best friend is laughing as she jokingly hits Seonghwa on the chest. His smile grows on his face before continuing whatever conversation they were having.

Not wanting to snoop or hear your best friend flirt with Seonghwa, you quickly make your way back to the living room. Your hands reach for another beer, and you take a huge sip of it to quench your thirst and with a small mission to forget what you just saw in the kitchen.

You didn’t like Seonghwa. Of course not, right? He was just becoming a good friend, and your best friend has been crushing on Seonghwa for almost a year. If she managed to finally get him, that would be great! You’d be happy for her.

On the outside.

But on the inside, you’d be less excited.

You hate admitting it, but Seonghwa has been running in your mind 24/7 ever since the party. You finally understood why your best friend was into him. Why every girl was into him. You’d be blind if you didn’t see how perfect he was, how kind, thoughtful, and funny he is. And that’s just Seonghwa. That is how he is. And he’s much more than that.

Needing a moment for yourself, you manage to find the bathroom to breathe. This get-together was turning into something you didn’t expect. How can you feel so many emotions all at once? Seonghwa was already living in your mind rent-free, and now that his friends suddenly exposed how his intimate side is, you have no space in your brain left.

You look at yourself in the mirror, and you’re immediately reminded of San’s words.

The things this man does... don’t let his nice persona fool you guys.

Your mind once again goes to forbidden places. How he looked that night of the party. How his messy hair would be even messier after you would run your fingers through it. How it would fall down in his face while he’s being on top of you. Sweat starting to form on his forehead. His deep voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Skin against skin as he fastens the speed.

Cursing at yourself at the thoughts, you decide being alone isn’t helping. At this point, Seonghwa is tattooed in your mind and there’s nothing you can do about it.

You open the door and step into the hallway, when you’re suddenly standing in front of the man in your mind.

“Hey, angel.” Seonghwa stops in his tracks, sharing his first words with you for the night.

“Hi.” You nearly whisper.

Your focus is turned to Wooyoung, who has to pass the two of you in the hallway, and you notice the way Seonghwa sends him a glare. Wooyoung laughs as he quickly sprints past Seonghwa, afraid that Seonghwa will reach out for him. He disappears into the living room, leaving you and Seonghwa alone in the hallway.

“He’s annoying, you’ll get used to it.” Seonghwa’s eyes meet yours again. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Trying not to focus too much on the thoughts in your brain, involving Seonghwa in a less innocent setting, you do your best to act normal.

“I guess FOMO got the best of me.” You shrug, starting to play with the sleeves of your shirt.

“I’m glad you came,” His eyes curl as he sends you a smile, and your mouth starts to dry again. You shift your gaze away from him, not being able to look him in the eyes for too long. “You want a ride home later?”

Your eyes flicker for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.

“Oh, uhm.. I don’t know, I have to talk to my friend and ask her if we’re sharing a cap.”

“You’re not. She’s staying here.” He responds rather quickly, leaving you slightly confused.

“How do you know?”

“The way Mingi is looking at her... I know.” He can’t seem to hide the smirk on his lips. He seems confident as he rests his hands in the pockets of his loose jeans, but you’re not convinced.

“But maybe she would like to stay with you tonight?” Your words make his brows shoot together. “She’s been talking about you for a long time, you know.” You look away from him again, eyes focused on your fingers playing with the ends of your sleeves.

“Still trying to wingman me with your friend?” You can hear the smirk on his lips.

“She likes you.” Is the only thing you say, leaving a silence between you and Seonghwa. He scoffs shortly, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he smirks.

“I’ll drive you home later.” He says.

“You don’t-”

“Have to, I know. At this point, just accept it.” He sends you a smile before making his way back into the living room. Like a duckling to its mother, you follow behind him, him leading the way. The rest of the group is already back in the circle, and you quietly sit down while Seonghwa takes his seat back on the couch, making sure to whack Wooyoung on the back of the head first.

The rest of the night, you’re quietly sipping on your second beer, not wanting alcohol to get too involved in the way you’re thinking. The rest of the group decided to continue various games and explicit conversation topics, thankfully leaving Seonghwa’s name out of most of them.

You notice his gaze on you multiple times, but you immediately avert your eyes, not being able to look into his piercing ones. A part of you couldn’t wait to get home, but the fact that Seonghwa had insisted on driving you home, made your heart pound faster against your chest. The thought of being alone with him seemed dangerous, afraid you’d do something you would regret.

The get-together eventually came to an end, and just like Seonghwa had predicted, your best friend decided to stay at Mingi’s place.

The door to the driver's seat closed, and Seonghwa put on his seatbelt before turning on the car.

“Ready?” He asks, looking at you.

“Mhm..” You nod, looking at your hands resting in your lap. Seonghwa keeps his gaze on you for a moment, trying his best to read you to the best of his abilities.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight. Something going on in that pretty head of yours?” His words make your stomach flip, but you push the feeling away as quickly as you can.

“No.. Just tired, I guess.” You try sending him a smile, thankful for the dimmed light surrounding you, making it harder to see his handsome features.

Seonghwa tries to ignore the feeling he gets when he can tell that you are obviously lying to him. He turns on the car and drives off to your apartment complex. The quiet music plays in the background, making the silence between you less noticeable.

Your eyes follow the trees and street lamps as you drive by, intentionally keeping your gaze in the other direction from Seonghwa. A small tapping sound following the music catches your attention, and you look down at the gearshift to see Seonghwa’s fingers around the shift. Their tapping follows the beat of the song on the radio, momentarily hypnotizing you.

The car stops at a red light, and you find yourself not being able to take your eyes off his hands. You realize how pretty his hands are, even in the dimmed light. He’s wearing a silver ring around one of his long slender fingers, the veins in his hands more evident as he taps along to the song. They curl prettily around the gearshift, having your mind wander to places they shouldn’t.

What you don’t notice is Seonghwa’s focus on you. A smirk creeps up on his lips when he realizes how his fingers have you in a trance, wondering what suddenly made you so focused on his hands.

As you catch yourself in the trance, you look away from his figers and out the window on your side.

You’re too deep in your own thoughts to notice Seonghwa lean closer to you and reach out his arm at you. A sudden grip on your chin forces you to look at him, and you see him smirk with the red light from the stoplight decorating his face.

“What?” You ask to the best ability, still with his hand holding your face. He takes a moment to study your face, not saying a single word. A tiny crease forms in the middle of your forehead, waiting for him to say something. His smile only widens a bit, not letting you know what he’s thinking.

“Angel face..” He says softly as the light turns green and he lets go of your face before taking off.

The rest of the way to your apartment is silent, except for the radio music and Seonghwa’s fingers tapping along. You finally see your apartment complex, and Seonghwa parks his car in the parking lot. Today, he follows you out of the car and towards your building. You’re a few steps ahead, not knowing what to say without accidentally saying something stupid.

Your mind is playing games with you, but you decide not to let this awkwardness control you anymore. What would be appropriate to talk about after the information you’ve gotten about him today? Do you even need to talk about it? You’re friends, so it wouldn’t be weird to ask him to stay over again, would it?

You take a few steps up to the main entrance, holding onto the railing, when you finally open your mouth.

“Seonghwa?” You turn around on the stairs, looking at him a few steps under you. Seonghwa’s big eyes look up at you, looking innocent and pure.

“What's up?”

You lose all of your bravery and immediately decide to abort the mission.

“Nothing,” You say, quickly moving on. “Thank you for driving me home. Goodnight.” You turn around again, about to head up the stairs to the entrance to your building when Seonghwa’s voice makes you halt.

“Wait.. Is everything good?” There’s a concern evident in his voice, and you send him a smile as you look down at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He takes a moment to look at you a few steps up on the staircase, before taking a deep breath.

“Are we gonna address the situation or are you just gonna stay silent?”

His words hit you like the fall from a roller coaster, making your stomach turn.

“Situation?” You ask.

“How your behavior changed when we reached a certain conversation topic tonight?”

You can’t read the tone in his voice, and his blank face doesn’t help either. You knew you had been exceptionally silent tonight, but you didn’t think he would notice. Suddenly, nervous that you’ve done something to make him mad, you feel your heart pound faster.

“What topic?” You ask nervously.

“How I fuck.”

You blink a few times, not expecting those words to escape his mouth. Mouth dry, heart pounding, and sweaty hands all have you quickly looking away from him, averting his gaze.

“There it is.. That look in your eye..” Seonghwa studies your face silently, taking two steps closer to you on the stairs. “You wanna know what that look tells me?” His voice drops an octave, and your stomach does another flip.

He’s killing you.

“Mhm..” You gulp as you nod, too overwhelmed to use actual words, blushing like crazy.

“It tells me you aren’t as innocent as you may seem.” He takes another step up the stairs, now only two steps separating you. “That those big eyes are pretty good at hiding what goes on in your mind, but sometimes it slips out, and they expose your thoughts without you saying a word..” He takes the last step closer to you. Now, he’s the one looking down at you, and you freeze like a prey trapped by the lion. His scent is hugging around you, making you feel dizzy. His eyes study you carefully, knowing he has you figured out. He scoffs confidently. “Tell me.. and be honest with me..” He leans forward, making it impossible to look away from him. “Are you wondering how it would be if I fucked you?”

Nervous, scared to admit the thoughts you’ve had about him the entire night, your eyes flicker away from him. He leans back a bit, a smirk growing on his face as he knows he’s onto something.

“So that’s a yes,” He says, your heart skipping a beat. The fact that he can read you so well, without you having to say a single word, makes you even more tense. You wish he would end this suffering, and either let you go or press his lips against yours, but instead, he does something different. “I’m feeling generous tonight, so instead of letting you wonder any longer, I’ll just tell you what it’s like to be fucked by me,”

You finally find the courage to look into his eyes as he’s trapping you between him and the banister. The thought of what he’s about to tell you makes the heat between your legs unbearable. He takes a deep breath, letting you mentally prepare yourself before he speaks.

“I like to be in control. I like to have them under me or on all fours in front of me. I like wrapping my hand around their hair or around their throat, forcing them to look at me,” He moves his arm around you, and you feel a slight pull in your hair. Your breathing is ragged, trying to control yourself. “I also use my tongue to make them cum. Luckily I love to eat pussy, especially if it’s from a pretty girl. But the best is when their big, pretty eyes look up at me, begging to cum and I’ll get to control when they’re allowed to let go and feel the orgasm take over.” His voice is down to a whisper, and you can’t believe what is happening right now. You have to bite your lip not to scream for him to kiss you. A smile creeps up on his lips like he’s about to mock you. “But you’re an angel, right? A good girl. You wouldn’t let me do those things to you.”

“I would.” You instantly respond, whispering only for him to hear.

“Use your words, angel. What would you like me to do to you?” He lets go of the grip on your hair and instead removes some hair from your face in a caring manner.

“Everything. Whatever you want.” You know you’re fully giving in to him, but you don’t care.

“Are you sure? I’m not sure you can handle it.” His thumb caresses your cheek.

“Try me,”

This changes something in Seonghwa’s eyes. His hand grabs the back of your head and his lips are on yours in a second. The feeling of his lips on you is like fireworks, and you can’t help but moan at the overwhelming sensation like you've been waiting for this forever. For the first time tonight, you finally feel like you can breathe.

His tongue slips past your lips, and you surrender in his grasp. Seonghwa seems just as hungry for you and starts kissing along your jaw and down your neck. You instinctively throw your head back, granting him better access. He goes in like a vampire thirsty for blood, kissing your neck, probably leaving marks. He knows what he’s doing, he knows how to make someone feel good. That makes you impatient.

“Upstairs. Come with me upstairs?” You try your best to get your words out, and you feel him smiling against your neck.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

You waste no time going inside, quickly pressing the doors for the elevator to arrive. You feel Seonghwa’s hand on the small of your back, and you have to fight everything in you not to jump on him immediately.

The elevator comes, Seonghwa guides you inside, and you press the button to your floor. Impatiently, you press the button multiple times, hoping that will make it go faster.

The doors finally close, and not a split second goes by until Seonghwa has you pressed up against the wall of the elevator. His hands are on your body while kissing you down your neck and along your jaw. You want his lips on yours again, but when he starts sucking on the sweet spot on your neck, you feel your knees weaken. Fingers running through his black hair are everything you thought it would be. He continues moving his lips on your skin, leaving you thirsty for more. The elevator reaches your floor, and you quickly make your way to the apartment, Seonghwa trailing behind you. You find the keys to your apartment but fumble while trying to find the right one. While struggling, you feel Seonghwa stand close behind you, and it’s like the world is working against you.

“Patience, baby.” He grabs your waist and you feel his front against your back. A gasp at the feeling leaves between your lips, and he starts kissing your neck while you desperately try to unlock the door.

After what feels like years of getting the door unlocked, you drag Seonghwa into your apartment, and just as you close the door, Seonghwa pushes you up against it. He grabs both of your hands and holds them above your head with one of his.

“Am I terrible for wanting to drive you home, in hopes that this would happen?” He starts kissing your neck again, and you close your eyes at the way his tongue works on your skin.

“No.”

“Tell me, angel..” He moves further down and starts kissing your collarbones. “What was running through your mind tonight? And don’t lie to me.”

“I wondered.. what the others said.”

“What did they say?”

He makes it nearly impossible for you to speak as he continues kissing further down your chest.

“Not to let your nice personality fool me... That you made someone.. see heaven and hell at the same time.” Your words have him standing up fully, letting go of the hold on your hands above your head and he’s back to look into your eyes.

“Baby.. I’ll drag the angel in you down to hell with me. Can I?” He moved some hair out of your face again, and you’re shocked with his way of changing style. He could be dragging his lips and tongue all over you one second, and making sure you look pretty the next.

“Uh huh..” You nod, and a smirk forms on his lips as he studies the features on your face.

“I’m gonna feel bad for ruining this angel face of yours,” His smirk grows into a smile. ”But you’re gonna look so perfect after.” His index finger runs down the side of your face, and you quickly start to feel yourself go crazy. Seonghwa’s lips hover just above yours, making you desperate.

“Kiss me.” Your words come out like a cry for help, not being able to long for his lips against yours anymore.

It’s like he’s enjoying seeing you fumble. He loves to hear you beg for his touch, his lips, him.

He looks down at your parted lips and goes in. His soft lips press against yours, and instinctively, your body responds to him. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth, and you allow every move he makes. Hands cupping your face, yours decide to pull him closer. You need him as close as humanly possible.

Slowly, his hands travel down your body, testing the waters. Of course, he doesn’t want to do something you aren’t comfortable with, despite you verbally already telling him to do anything he wants with you. But little do you know. He has been thinking of this for a week straight, not being able to think of anything else but you under his touch. So trying not to rush this, wanting to enjoy every second, Seonghwa is taking his sweet time.

The kiss deepens, and you feel his hands travel further downward until they rest on your ass. A light squeeze makes you pull him closer, and not wanting to waste any more time, his hands travel under your thighs to pull you up. You do a small jump before wrapping your legs around his waist, and you take the opportunity to kiss his neck. A small grunt escapes Seonghwa from your lips on his skin, as he makes his way to your bedroom with you wrapped around him.

“Are you trying to drive me insane, angel?” He opens the door to your bedroom and you’re thrown on the bed a second later. Looking up at him from the mattress, you can’t wait for whatever is about to happen. The way he's looking at you, you know you’re in for something big.

Seonghwa crawls on top of you, leaving kisses all over your body on his way.

“You know how much I’ve been thinking about this?” His lips run over your chest as he unbuttons your shirt. “Last time I was in your apartment, after the party... You were looking at my lips like you were about to kiss me and I had to fight everything in me not to fuck you right then and there on the couch.”

Your fingers run through his hair, reminded of the first night you spoke to Seonghwa.

“I’m a horrible friend.” You say, reminded by your best friend’s admiration for Seonghwa. You’re letting a moan escape your lips when he kisses your sweet spot, not wanting him to stop. His lips leave your skin and he hovers over you, his hands on each side of your head as he looks down at you.

“Your best friend is fucking Mingi as we speak. Besides,” His lips softly press against yours in a gentle kiss. “I bet you’ve been thinking about me too, haven’t you, angel?”

He had been the only thing in your head for a week, of course.

You nod, looking up at him.

“Gosh, I wanna fuck you,” He smacks his lips against yours as his fingers open the rest of the buttons on your shirt. Shortly after, your bra is exposed, and a smile creeps up on Seonghwa’s lips. “So fucking beautiful.”

He helps you out of your clothes, and suddenly you're fully exposed in front of him. Your cheeks redden as he looks all over your body, admiring every single curve of your skin. Quickly, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. His other hand is busy massaging the other, and you feel every part of you starting to become sensitive to his touch.

Seonghwa slowly makes his way down, kissing you all the way until his head is right above your heat. He starts teasing you, placing light kisses on your thighs, purposely avoiding your pussy.

“Seonghwa, please.” You can’t stand waiting anymore.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for longer than you could imagine. I’m taking my time, but I do enjoy hearing you beg.”

Before you get to say another word, Seonghwa dives in and directly starts licking you between your folds. He holds your legs open to get the best access, and you feel your eyes roll back in pleasure. His tongue finds your hole and goes slightly in, making your hands grab the sheets.

“You taste so sweet, baby, like fucking dessert.” He says against your pussy, before slowly dragging his tongue up along your slit, enjoying seeing you squirm.

“Please Hwa,” You manage to say when he starts sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it, knowing that if he keeps doing exactly this, you’ll be coming in just a few seconds. "Your tongue.. It feels so good."

Seonghwa smirks at your words but seems to notice how close you already are and slows down.

“You couldn't even look me in the eyes earlier... Like after you knew how I fuck, you became afraid of me. Did you, angel?”

“No.”

“Then why did you look away?”

“Because-” Your words are cut short when he fastens the speed of his tongue again. “I got shy.” A loud moan escapes your lips when your legs start to shake and he enters a finger in your hole, curling it upwards so it hits a specific spot.

“I’ll make you a promise... When I’m done with you, you’re gonna be begging me to fuck you from now on. No more hiding or looking away. Okay?” Seonghwa brings his tongue back on you as he starts pumping his finger in and out of you. A muffled moan escapes you as you bite your lip. “I said; okay?”

“Yes!”

“Good girl.” He adds another finger before the speed quickens once again, and you’re sure you’re about to cum at any moment.

“Seonghwa.. I’m-”

“Not yet, angel,” He doesn’t change the speed he’s going, only making it harder for you to hold back the overwhelming sensation forming in your stomach. “You can hold it back a little more, can’t you?”

You almost want to cry from the emotions you’re feeling, his tongue going in circles over your clit. The grip on your bed sheets tightens, and just before you’re about to give up and let the orgasm take over, everything stands still. Like you’re on a rollercoaster, seeing the big fall right in front of you, but you’re stuck at the top. You look down to see Seonghwa removing himself from you, and you throw your head back.

Your heart is pounding fast against your chest like you’ve been running a marathon, and you release the air you’ve been holding for so long.

“You did so well, angel. I thought you were about to go against my words for a second,” He crawls back on top of you, and you see that he’s only in his boxers. You had been too focused on him eating you out, you didn’t see what else was going on around you. “You’re a good slut, aren’t you?” His finger travels down the side of your face in a caring manner.

Never had someone called you ‘slut’ in this setting, but when it came from Seonghwa, it only made you even more turned on. Yet, he still finds a way to intimidate you with his words, and your eyes flicker away from him.

“Angel, are you getting shy again?” His finger travels down to your jaw before wrapping his hand around your throat. You’re completely under his spell as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you, do you understand?”

Not being able to wait any longer, you impatiently nod as you’re biting your lip.

“I can’t hear you, angel.”

“Yes!”

Seonghwa lets go of you before taking off his boxers, and your mouth starts to water when you see his cock pressed against his stomach. It’s bigger than you thought it would be, glistening with pre-cum.

“Get on your knees and turn towards the mirror.” He instructs, and your cheeks heat up from what is about to happen. You do as he says, your body turning against the full-body mirror facing your bed. You watch him through the mirror as he gets in bed and you feel his front against your back. His cock presses up against you, and you can’t wait to have it inside you, stretching you out.

You meet his eyes in the mirror and he sends you a smile as his hands travel on your body. “So fucking beautiful.” His lips leave kisses on your shoulder while he wraps his arm around you and runs a finger in between your folds. You respond with a muffled moan from how sensitive you are, and he slowly raises his finger to your mouth. You notice how glistening it is from how wet you are, and before you know it, Seonghwa has his fingers in your mouth.

The taste of yourself spreads on your tongue, only adding to your list of things you’ve never tried before, but are happy to do with Seonghwa.

“Have you been this wet since you heard how I fuck? You probably undressed me with your eyes while the others were around, wondering how I look as I fuck you stupid.” He removed his fingers from your mouth. “But no need to wait any longer, angel. You really think you can take it?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

A second later, Seonghwa enters you and you almost fall forward if he hadn’t held onto you. His arm wraps around your waist, steadying you while you get used to the feeling of him inside you. Your hips are touching, skin against skin when he slowly starts to pull out before entering fully again.

The feeling is overwhelming, and your head rolls back to rest on his shoulder.

“Holy fuck, angel,” His speed slowly increases, and both of his hands go to grab your waist, holding your sturdy. "You make me want to keep you all to myself. So perfect around my cock, don't you think?"

The sound of him fucking you quickly becomes the only thing in your mind, as you close your eyes to hold yourself from screaming.

He fastens the speed even more, and you let out a loud moan. One of his hands goes to your neck, and he slowly wraps his slender fingers around your throat to keep you in place.

“Open your eyes,” He demands and you do as he says, feeling his hips slam against yours. As soon as you open your eyes, you see yourself getting fucked by Seonghwa through the mirror. His eyes are so full of passion and lust as they keep their focus on you, while his dick pounds deep inside of you. You've never seen yourself while getting fucked, but you love the view of you and Seonghwa. “Do you see how beautiful you look with my cock inside you? So fucking obedient and good, you were made for me, angel.”

Seonghwa lets go of your neck and a hard thrust has you falling forward, not being able to hold yourself up any longer. He continues to thrust deep inside you, grabbing the flesh on your hips so hard, it probably (hopefully) leaves marks tomorrow.

You feel a tug in your hair, and you look up to see Seonghwa have his hand wrapped around your hair, forcing you to look into the mirror, and the sight turns you on to the fullest. Seonghwa is so deep inside of you, and you can’t help but look at how absolutely gorgeous he looks. His black, wavy hair is damp and a mess, sweat glistening on his chest, and a crease on his forehead from the passion he puts into fucking you. He grunts your name as he meets your eyes in the mirror, and you feel the thrusts deepen.

Your arms lose their strength and you fall down, face down, and ass up. This allows Seonghwa to lean over you, and you almost feel him deeper inside of you. He lets go of your hair and you feel his weight on you as he places kisses on your shoulders and your back as his cock works in and out of you. You moan his name into the bed, not being able to think of anything else but him railing into you.

“You take my cock so fucking good, just like the good little slut you are.”

His dominant side is so evident, that you’re wondering how he’s capable of hiding it normally. You didn’t ever think he’d be so controlling, but it turns you on seeing this nice guy turn into an absolute animal in bed.

You suddenly understand what the girl from the library meant. With the way he's fucking you into the mattress, you're not sure how you're gonna be able to walk tomorrow.

You feel yourself clench around him, quickly feeling your orgasm approach once again. A moan escapes Seonghwa at the feeling and he knows you’re about to have your orgasm take over.

“I wanna see you while you come on my cock.” Seonghwa pulls out of you and rolls you over so you’re lying on your back. Your legs wrap around his waist as he enters you again, another moan about to leave your lips when he leans down to press his lips against yours.

This takes you slightly by surprise, but in desperate need of his lips against yours, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hips start to move again, quickly picking up the speed to chase both of your orgasms.

“Fuck, baby.. I feel you clench around my cock. Are you gonna cum?” He says, looking down at you.

“Y-Yes!”

"I'll let you finish if you beg like a good girl."

He's killing you with his words, but you can't hold back anymore, You've been trying to hold back for so long, that you feel like you're going to pass out.

"Please, please!"

"Please what?" He keeps the speed, not going faster, not going slower.

"Please let me cum, Hwa!" You’re begging him to let you cum, not being able to hold back much longer.

As if something changed in him, he quickly puts your legs on his shoulders, almost folding you in half. You feel him even deeper, hitting the perfect spot in your cunt.

“You’re going to cum on my cock, alright? You begged so obediently after all.” He smirks down at you as the pace of his thrust quickens, hitting the perfect spot every time. “Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”

Shortly after, you feel the buildup in your entire lower region spread like wildfire throughout your entire body. Your toes curl, fingers grab the bed and your head rolls back in pleasure. An uninhibited release of control runs through your entire body and you clench around his cock. You've never felt this intensity of an orgasm before. Moaning Seonghwa’s name along with your orgasm taking over you, has him quickly feeling his orgasm approach as well. You look up at him, pleasure written all over your face.

“Holy shit, baby, I’m gonna cum if you keep looking at me like that.”

“Cum inside me, please.”

A smirk creeps up on Seonghwa’s lips. “Look at you, not so shy anymore, are we?”

He fucks you hard and fast, looking down at you as you still feel your own orgasm. You moan once again, clenching around his cock and that’s enough to send Seonghwa over the edge. One last deep thrust has him emptying himself inside you, and you feel the warmth from his cum. His movements stop as he takes his time to feel his orgasm, closing his eyes in pleasure.

The sight in front of you leaves you addicted to him, so you start wiggling under him, trying to milk more cum out of him. His eyes open and he looks down at his cock inside of you, grinning as he lets you wiggle under him. He then slowly pulls out of you, enjoying the sight of his cum leaking out of you. He helps your legs down from his shoulders before slowly leaning forward to kiss you gently on your lips.

His hand cups your cheek in a loving manner as the kiss deepens, but the kiss seems different from the others. This one is so full of care, protection, and softness.

He pulls back, looking down at you in a way that wouldn’t make you believe he just railed you into next week.

“So… Was I too hard on you?” He asks with genuine nervousness in his voice.

“No, you were perfect.” You smile, and he quickly looks relieved before he pecks your lips and gets comfortable in your bed.

“Come here, angel.” He opens his arms for you to lie down, and you immediately throw yourself into his arms. "Is it okay if I stay the night?" He asks softly as you wrap your arms around his stomach and he holds you close, resting his head on yours.

"Honestly speaking, I think I'd be pretty pissed if you just left." You smile, getting comfortable in his arms.

"I wouldn't dream of it." He kisses the top of your head, and you close your eyes, deciding to enjoy this moment with Seonghwa. “Goodnight, angel.”

You’re already half asleep, listening to the beating of his heart, wishing you could do this every night.

(I’ve been thinking about writing a part 2 of this fic, let me know if that’s something you would like!)

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