#eat the rich? no let them eat each other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

giuseppe-yuki · 3 months ago

Text

money, money, money

normal!max verstappen x billionaire!reader

w.c.: 6.8k

warnings: curse words, allusions to sex, RUDE people, sprinkle of angst (?)

summary: you introduce max to the good and bad sides of having money.

a/n: roughly inspired by crazy rich asians- one of my fav movies!!!

edit: bonus birthday oneshot :)

photo credits from pinterest :)

it was no secret to the majority of the world that your bloodline was rich- filthy rich. with your father’s side of the family owning the equivalent of half a small country and your mother’s side of the family the owners of several major corporations, you had no lack of paper bills in your bank accounts.

along with your siblings and your cousins, you grew up pampered, only going to your country’s best schools and wearing only the latest fashion. you were picked up by a chauffeur in a personal sleek black bentley and had a team of maids at your beck and call. hell, you were even granted access to a private jet in case you wanted to fly somewhere exotic just for fun!

as a child without a sense of the value of money, you thought all children lived like this. every birthday, you expected only the very best from your parents. on your sixth birthday, your parents closed down disneyland and let the kids rampage throughout the park. for your cousin’s grade school graduation, your aunt bought an entire cruise liner (company) and held a week-long party on the water to celebrate. when your little brother passed his driver’s license, your father bought him a customized ferrari pista (that he might have crashed three days in) as his first car. when christmas came by, your grandma flew in your entire family to her private island in first class, and surprised all the kids with their very own mini play homes in the backyard that were each the size of a small apartment.

slowly, as you matured, you realized how lucky you were. while eating the caviar and champagne at the expensive gala, the homeless were out in the cold, eating the leftover crusts in oily crumpled pizza boxes that they fished out of the trash. each dollar in your bank accounts could go to sick children whose parents couldn’t pay the hospital bills for, and instead, they were going to mega yachts that sat in the monaco bay most of the year. besides, wouldn’t your parents' money run out some time?

it seemed that many of your cousins and siblings didn’t give a fuck. you watched them exponentially abuse their power, blowing through thousands of grands for luxury cars they drove only once and exclusive rooftop parties where they swam in pools of champagne. one by one, you saw them drop out of school and spend every day as the life of the party. once they rapidly grew out of the excuse of being “young, naive, and not knowing better” their reputation to the general public became “spoiled and out-of-touch” with society.

you of course, weren’t totally exempt from this. you had to admit that you occasionally spent a few k on a nice little bag for yourself, or had an occasional trip to bali for some sun. however, you focused much more on your studies and helping others than partying. instead of spending your draining your mother’s company assets, wouldn’t it be better to have your own? why wield a black card embellished with your father’s name in gold when it could be your own name? with your own money, you could also donate huge amounts to people in need- all under your name.

slowly, you built up your own credible business using the knowledge you gained, and it soon skyrocketed into a world-wide profitable company.

even with such success however, all your siblings and cousins laughed at you. running a company? they had chuckled, in their balenciaga suits and miu miu dresses. why do such tedious work when you can just marry into a rich family?

rich family, you scoff, looking at one of your cousins at the yearly family party that your family threw. though she was dressed to the nines, hair done up and jewelry glistening on her neck, she looked absolutely miserable. her husband, that everyone knew she had just married “for the money” stood on the opposite end of the room, flirting unashamedly with a rather uncomfortable looking waiter. that was really funny, considering that your cousin had been bragging about how much her husband loved her at the last function. she had even shoved a picture of her next to a humongous flower bouquet into your face, teasingly stating how “you never had this experience before, huh?”

your brother wasn’t that much different. although he looked rather successful with a big quarter of your mother’s company stocks, you knew that he was in major debt from burning through his bank accounts gambling at casinos around the world. he paraded around the room with his wife, who hung on his arm so proudly, but only because she didn’t know a thing. if you hinted at your brother’s little “problem,” you knew that she would have the divorce papers ready by afternoon the next day.

as the party went on and the alcohol broke down the painstakingly-built facades of your family’s relationships, you began to stop envying their so-called perfect lives. you realized that all they knew about was money. what did they know about love?

love to you was a kind man with blue eyes that crinkled whenever he smiled at you, light brown hair that was oh-so-soft to run through with your hands, and a soothing voice with a twinge of an accent and slight lisp. love smelled like his soft cologne, and tasted like the spiced sweetbreads he would bake on the weekends.

max was the total opposite from the cocky and money-hungry douchebags from your home country that were more attracted to your wallet and family influence, which was what you liked about him. even the way you met him was different. usually, the men would make it all about themselves, trying to impress you with their “achievements” (owning three ferraris is not a keystone achievement, david) or throwing technical jargon at you to sound smart. if you somehow invited them on a second date, they always showed up late and would tear off their clothes the second they got in the house, expecting to get to third base immediately. however, you met max through a friend of a friend at a small party in monaco. he could barely look you in the eyes and stuttered through his sentences, which you found quite refreshing compared to the arrogant guys that you usually encountered. on your first date, he got you some rather wilty looking tulips, but also brought some homemade bread that you swore was the best you ever ate. on the second date, he yapped about all the flags of all the countries he knew, but you didn’t mind because he let you ramble your own interests after. before long, you moved in with him in his apartment on the edge of monaco, and had the honor of calling him your boyfriend.

so now, lying in his arms on his tiny bed, you felt more at home than ever.

the sunlight streams in through the windows above his bed, casting a glow across his face and filtering through his impossibly long eyelashes. you take a minute to admire the angelic scene, before one his cats leaps off of who-knows-where and jumps on his face.

he yelps, and unwinds his arm from around you to softly push who you assume to be sassy away from his head.

you flash a glare at sassy for ruining such a nice moment, before picking her up and attempt to “throw” her off the bed.

unfortunately, max yanks her out of your hands before you are able to.

“hey!” he says in a chastising tone. “be nice to sassy. i’m sure she didn’t mean to.”

max sits up on the bed and gives sassy a few head scratches before placing a kiss on her soft head. sassy meows at you, which you swear is in a mocking tone. across the room, jimmy sprints over and takes a spot next to max, purring for head scratches too, effectively pushing you off the bed.

you didn’t understand how your boyfriend couldn’t see that his cats were literally devils. you were basically subject to their abuse every day (i.e. random ankle attacks, knocking over all you fragile items, unplugging your devices, cat hair in your food, and the worst one, stealing max away from you). scowling, you surrender your rightful spot on the bed and pad into the kitchen in your slippers to start the coffee.

it’s not until both the coffee and breakfast is ready when max finally enters the kitchen, now freshly dressed. the cats scamper around his feet, curling lovingly around his ankles.

“sorry about that, baby.” he says, pulling out his chair and taking a seat in front of his plate of food. “jimmy and sassy just wanted some love.”

you roll your eyes before settling down into your own seat.

he spears a few sausage links and eggs into his mouth before glancing at the clock. eyes widening, he shoves the rest of the food into his mouth and chugs down the hot coffee.

“so sorry, i have to run!” he sputters out, “i’m going to be late to my engineering meeting!”

he dashes to the bedroom to grab his bag before running back into the kitchen to press a kiss to your cheek in goodbye.

“have fun at work too, baby!” he yells before the front door slams closed.

sighing, you finish your plate before washing the dishes in the sink. he was always late for his engineering job at a small office in downtown monaco. max somehow always got to his office in time though, but probably because he raced his little yellow renault clio rs on the streets like he was some type of formula one driver. meanwhile, you had your “work” at home (which typically meant one phone call to your secretary to make sure everything was running smoothly, a quick scroll through your company accounts, and then netflix on the couch).

from the time you met to the time you started dating, you never got to telling max about your family history or your job. it was actually kind of unbelievable that he didn’t notice actually, even when all your clothes were covertly designer and heels were always red bottoms, or when you seemingly traveled out of the country every other weekend for company meetings. however, he never asked, so you never told.

well, that was until he came home that night.

his footsteps echo on the ground as he walks out from the bathroom, but stops before he gets into the kitchen

“hey baby,” he says, tilting his head. “what’s this?”

you stop stirring the pasta sauce, looking back to see your freshly showered boyfriend questioningly glancing at your open macbook on the couch.

you must have forgotten to close out of your company bank account tab. quickly, you throw the spoon aside, slam the laptop shut, and throw it to the side.

“that’s nothing, baby.” you say, rushing back to the kitchen and stirring the bubbling red mixture again.

“oh-kay…” he says, walking up behind you and reaching over to help strain the pasta noodles.

while straining the water out in the sink, he flashes you a quick glance. “was it like…” he whispers quietly. “adult material or something?? is that why you didn’t want me to see it?”

what?

you look back him, an unimpressed look at your face. “adult material, max???” you repeat back at him. “no. i was not watching adult material on my work laptop.”

“okay, whatever you say, baby.” max says, clearly not believing you. clearing his throat, he continues. “so, um… anyways, my coworker george was talking about how he met his boyfriend alex's parents over the weekend, and i realized that i never met your parents before. do you think we can maybe pay them a visit?"

you freeze, halfway sliding out a plate of garlic bread from the oven.

“i- um, don’t think that’s wise, maxie.” you reply quietly.

your boyfriend wrinkles his brow. he stops the plating of the noodles and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“is it…is it because they are assholes?” he asks, looking at you seriously. “cause it’s okay if they are- i understand, because my dad…my dad is not very kind either.”

you can’t help to think about your family in your home country. you could never take your maxie there. they would rip him to shreds, degrading him for being rather plain and destitute compared to them. you would never want to put your boyfriend through your parents, either, who would probably criticize him for wanting to marry you just for the money, even if max didn’t know a goddamn thing about how you earned your funds.

you rub your face. “no, it’s not that.” you sigh, “i- mean- it’s just complicated over there in my home country. i don’t want you to feel pressure or uncomfortable-”

max cuts you off with a hug, and presses a kiss to your cheek. “i really don’t mind, baby. i’d really like to meet the people who made such a kind and beautiful person like you.”

you blush a little at his words. even if you have an uneasy feeling to your stomach, you nod lightly. it can’t be that bad, right?

if you were to take max over to your home country, there was no doubt he would be exposed to your massive fame and influence there. to slowly ease him into the more luxurious side of your life, you first introduce the luxuries of a private jet the day you take off from the airport.

“a private JET???” your boyfriend shrieks, looking at his speciality boarding pass.

hurriedly, you shush him to avoid the glares of other travelers within a yelling distance of you both.

“max, please be quiet.” you hiss into his ear. “yes, it says private jet.”

maneuvering your cart with your lv-branded luggage to the side of the terminal, along with max’s one small carry-on and two pet cages with the reincarnations of the devil inside, you pull out your phone to check the location of the driver who would take you to the separate private-jet entrance.

like magic, he materializes behind you, tapping you on the shoulder.

politely, he takes your horde of luggages and max’s items before politely gesturing towards a massive black lincoln that was definitely not parked there before.

“this way miss,” he says curtly, before reaching forward to open the car door for you.

max, snapping out of his confusion, snaps his hand out first and roughly yanks the door open, and nearly hitting both you and the driver.

“i’ll open the door for my own girlfriend, thanks!” he retorts, glaring suspiciously at the driver, who just shrugs and starts loading the luggage into the back of the car.

when max climbs into the spacious back of the lincoln, you can’t help but giggle into your hand.

“max, you need to relax,” you laugh, placing a calming hand on max’s leg. “he’s my driver. it’s his job to open the door, okay?”

your boyfriend sniffs, pouting a little.

“fine.”

after boarding the jet and ascending safely into the air, you settle into your padded chair. meanwhile, max runs around the jet like a little kid, pointing out the “special features,” much to the amusement of the staff.

“omg, baby, look!” he yells, pointing at a wooden-paneled door behind your chair. “the bathroom is huge!”

you nod, and hum in agreement, sparing a quick glance at max, who was opening and closing the door as if it would change what was behind it.

he then charges toward a cabinet near the middle of the plane, which is stuffed to the brim with your favorite snacks. “wow!” he shouts, before sprinting towards a similar cabinet further down, which you know is the alcohol storage area.

there’s a moment of silence before max steps into view with three gin and tonics and one of your favorite drinks in hand. he carefully sets them down in front of you, batting away a disgruntled-looking bartender who held a half-open bottle of gin that you assumed he was in the middle of pouring when max snatched the bottle away.

you apologize profusely to the bartender while max watches on, straight up chugging his drinks.

“this is wild!!” he whispers, pointing to the cups in front of him.

no more than five minutes after sending the bartender away with a little tip, max has already finished two of his three gin and tonics and was already bounding out of his seat to explore the rest of the plane.

once you hear his exclamations of joy from the back of the plane, you know he has discovered the master bedroom.

before you have a chance to take a sip of your own drink, max basically pounces on you and drags you towards the private bedroom. your boyfriend pushes you onto the soft bed, yells out the door.

“give us a little bit of privacy, okay?” he shouts to no one in particular, before slamming the door shut.

he turns back to your figure lying spread-eagle in the bed, and wiggles his eyebrows.

max is the first one to talk after you both lay on the bed, lips swollen and cheeks red.

“so…?” he says, running a hand down your back.

“so… what?” you ask, looking up at him from your position sprawled on top of him. from your point of view, you could feel the slight rise and fall of his chest, his slightly damp hair, and the way his blue, blue eyes study your face.

“so, when were you going to tell me that you were…like…rich?” he replies.

you maneuver yourself to a sitting position on your boyfriend’s lap, looking him nervously.

“well…” you remark, twiddling your thumbs. this wasn’t the way you thought you were going to break the news to max.

“i grew up more- comfortably in my home country, thanks to my family and their connections. i was lucky to not have to worry about money at all. when i became a little older, i separated myself from the rest of my siblings and cousins to form and take care of my own company. then, on a business trip, i met you and then.. yeah, you know what happens next.”

an awkward silence fills the room, with max digesting the information and you toying with a stray thread from the bedcovers.

your boyfriend opens his mouth slowly.

“a company?” he questions, turning to you. “what company?”

you scramble off the bed for your phone, and type something quick in the search bar. when you find what you are looking for, you rotate the phone towards your boyfriend, the glowing screen reflecting on his features.

it only takes one or two seconds for max to scan and decipher the words on the screen.

“YOU’RE THE CEO OF REDBULL??” max shouts.

when the wheels of your private jet hit the bumpy runway, it was midnight. your pilot’s voice crackles on the intercom, politely notifying you that you have arrived, and are free to disembark whenever you’d like. outside, you can see several workers unloading your luggage, along with jimmy and sassy in their pet carriers.

you turn to max, who was intensely staring at his screen, unmoving. you assume he was still in the middle of his fervent wikipedia dive of you and your family’s entire history that he insisted on learning, once he got over the initial shock.

“max,” you say, nudging him slightly.

he doesn’t budge, eyes trained like an eagle on his screen.

you pull on sweatshirt before nudging him again, this time a little harder. “max, come on, we gotta go.”

he snaps up, and pockets his phone before mock saluting you. “yes, of course, miss ceo! whatever you say!”

you roll your eyes. max was a little extra sometimes.

he trails behind you obediently as you climb down the stairs to get off the plane, and into a sleek black limousine.

before long, you find yourself on the familiar streets and freeways that you used to frequent when you were younger. it feels the slightest bit nostalgic, so different from the streets of monaco that you became used to thanks to max.

you look back to find max tilting his head at you.

“where to now, miss ceo?” he asks in a curious tone.

you smile.

”i know just the place.”

even when it was close to three am, the downtown streets were still packed with people. vendors engulfed the street sides, selling delicious soups and snacks beckoned to people, and little shops with bright signs advertised souvenirs, clothing, stationary, and everything in between. the car inches to a stop when you come upon a familiar old building that you remember visiting often as a child. bright glittery letters on the storefront and windows exclaim, “lombardi ice cream shop.” a line of people streams out the door, an ode to the delicious creamy treats that the shop has been selling for years. god, you could basically taste the ice cream on your tongue already.

you practically leap out of the car, dragging max with you towards the front of the shop. the red bottoms of your heels click against the concrete, turning many heads in the crowd along the sidewalk. you hear gasps of shock and a few whispers of your name along the crowd. they automatically parts like moses and the red sea when you get closer. max hesitates, wide eyed, at the edge of the crowd.

”c’mon,” you laugh, taking his hand and leading him through the people.

an old woman, back hunched with age, waddles out of the kitchen and greets you warmly when you arrive at the counter. without realizing, a warm feeling spreads across your chest. she was basically like a second mother to you, considering you spent your entire childhood frequenting this shop with your cousins and siblings. whenever you visited your home country, you would always make sure to pop by her shop (not that she needed your business- her lines always curled around the block, day and night).

“ahh!! welcome back, honey,” she exclaims, wiping her wrinkled hands on her apron. “you’ve gotten so beautiful!” throwing a glance at a shy max hesitantly hidden behind you, she sends you an eyebrow raise. “ah, and i see you brought a boy back huh?”

you reach over to give the weathered old woman a hug, blushing. “hello, momma lella! yes, this is my boyfriend max.”

max waves a polite hello, one hand still nervously holding yours.

the elderly woman smiles kindly at max, not hiding how she looks him up and down. “well, i approve!” she states, giving you a thumbs up and a wink. “polite and handsome!”

without another word, she grabs the largest size cup and fills it to the brim with creamy chocolate ice cream. sprinkling a good amount of sprinkles and shoving two spoons into the cup, she offers it to you.

“on the house!”

you and max sit on the sidewalk with the cup of ice cream, watching people walk by and cars zoom through the traffic. occasionally, max takes his spoon and shovels a large helping of chocolate ice cream into his mouth.

“you look like you’re really enjoying the ice cream,” you state, noticing the chocolate smeared over the corners of his mouth.

max just smiles at you in the way he always does, with the dimples and the crinkle in his eyes.

suddenly, your moment is ruined when a flash goes off in your face.

max jerks back, rubbing his eyes, not used to the invasive cameras that made up your childhood.

you whip around towards the flash, seeing a small herd of paparazzi smiling wickedly. a rare spotting of you in back in your home country for the first time in years? that was payday for them. a flash of anger shoots through you, causing you to throw your wooden spoon at their expensive cameras. unfortunately, it just bounces off of the arm of a short looking man carrying a heavy duty camera.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you yell, shooing them away from max. “can you just leave us alone for one second?”

bothersome paparazzi like this was common when you grew up in a family rich with drama and money. you recall them camping in front of your house, shutters clicking once they saw a sign of movement. whatever mistake you made, like tripping over a small rock or fighting with your sister over a doll, was publicized and dramatized into unrecognizable stories on gossip magazines that were popular in your home country. it was a pity that this was max’s first introduction to these pests.

you pull max with you as you shove your way roughly through the paparazzi. they deserved it if you accidentally smashed someone’s lens.

max stumbles behind you.

“wha-?” he says, holding the half-empty chocolate ice cream. “where are we going?”

you huff. “away from those wannabe photographers- i hate them so much.”

you flip open your phone to call your chauffeur, but your app notifies you it would take a total of ten minutes for him to weave through traffic to get to you both. in the distance, the paparazzi raise their cameras again, shutters clicking as they photograph your pissed off expression and a dumbfounded max next to you. you can practically see the headlines tomorrow- ‘bratty billionaire back in country!!’

like a godsend, a futuristic-looking car rumbles to life next to you. that will probably get you home and away from these fuckers fast, right? hurriedly, you march over to the disgruntled middle-aged man in the passengers’ seat.

“five million for your car- right now.” you say, dead serious.

the man’s eyes widen comically large.

“five mi-“

you cut him off quickly, seeing the paparazzi darting closer to max, who was still holding the ice cream and eyeing the cameras wearily.

“yes, five million. i’ll mail you the check.”

without another word, the man tosses you the keys and hefts himself out of the car. you leap into the drivers seat just as he gets out, and jam your finger on the window down button to beckon max into the car immediately.

the moment he sits down on the expensive-looking leather seats, you rev the engine and leave the paparazzi behind in the dust.

it’s not until you are halfway back to your penthouse when max finally speaks.

“this is a super nice car,” he states, running his hand against the interior side panels.

you look around, really noticing the detailings of the car. the sides look like they are made with some carbon fiber material, and it seemed like it didn’t even have a door handle- just straps you pull on the corner of the dashboard.

”yeah, i guess so,” you admit. “i just bought this off of that dude back there in order to get away from the damn paparazzi.”

max wrinkles his brows.

“you bought-?? what??? you know this is an aston martin valkyrie, right?”

the next morning, when the sun shines through the skyline windows lining your penthouse, you keep your promise by instructing one of your staff to send the promised check to the random guy on the street (fernando, he said his name was). your boyfriend scrolls idly on his phone next to you, probably scrolling through your family’s lengthy wikipedia page again. his cats stamp around your white bedsheets as if they owned the place. you think about what you both could do today. perhaps visit the children’s hospital? before moving to monaco, you frequented many small hospitals, bringing gifts for the children. it always felt good seeing the sick kids light up with joy. or, you could go shopping, although you did spend a little bit much on the random car yesterday. or-

before you can complete your thought, a familiar ringtone lights up the screen of your phone. your mother’s name lights up your phone, as if taunting you. before you second-guess yourself, you smash your finger into the green ‘answer’ button and place the phone to your ear.

your mother’s voice flows through the speakers, sending a wave of nostalgia throughout your body.

“darling!” the voice hums, “why didn’t you tell me that you were back in your home country? i had to find out over the silly little paparazzi pictures on the newspapers!”

damn it, you think, cursing silently in your head. it seemed that the paparazzi from yesterday night had probably sold your pictures to some trashy gossip magazine that had caught the attention of your mother. that meant that you had to face your family sooner or later.

“hello, mother,” you reply curtly, trying to avoid the topic. “how may i help you?”

your mother tuts through the speakerphone. “oh, your own mother can’t just call to say hello?”

you groan. “no- i mean yes-“

your mother cuts you off, laughing. “i’m kidding, darling. i just wanted to let you know that i’m hosting a party at our estate tomorrow, to celebrate your arrival! you’ve been in monaco for a god-awful long time. your cousins and siblings will be coming too- i’m sure they’ll all excited to see you after your hiatus in monaco!”

you hesitate before responding. your first instinct was to say no, because everybody knew full well that the only reason your cousins and siblings even bothered to show up at these kind of events is to save face and show off their new ridiculously expensive clothing and cars, not to welcome you. however, this also gave you a chance for max to meet your parents, like he wanted back in monaco. it isn’t a hard choice when you agree to meet the next day.

max revs the engine once again as he pulls the valkyrie to stop in front of the valet at the front of your family’s estate.

through the tinted windows of the car, you see one of your snobby cousins, dressed in an jeweled gown, jump at the loud sound and clutch her husband’s arm tighter however, her husband ignores her to get a good look at your aston martin supercar, which makes you laugh. to your surprise, he is not the only one. a few other family members gather around, admiring the hypercar.

in the passenger’s seat, max’s mischievous grin slowly turns into a frown of nervousness as he spots the crowd of people gathering around you both. you know it must look intimidating, meeting your significant other’s family, especially when they had such high expectations of you. you place a kiss on his cheek.

“you ready, maxie?” you ask, patting his shoulder comfortingly.

he nods, before opening the car door.

like the gentleman he is, max quickly hurries over to the passenger’s side of the car to help you out of the car. you gladly take his hand, and step out of the vehicle daintily. straight away, you can hear the confused mutterings and jealous glares of your family members start up, which follow the both of you into the house.

like expected, your childhood home is decorated a little over the top. people mingle under crystal chandeliers around staircases draped with real flowers. from the second living room, music drifts out that sounds suspiciously like martin garrix. a fancy bar is set up a room that was usually the dining room, with a bottle of every single alcohol you can ever think of. the courtyard, usually empty save a few plants, was turned into outdoor buffet bar, complete with a five story cake and massive chocolate fountain.

once inside, max attempts to introduce himself to the first friendly-looking family member that he sees, which happens to be your aunt on your mother’s side. he sticks out his hand, a smile gracing his face.

“hi, my name is max,” he says, “i’m your niece’s boyfriend.”

your aunt nods politely, shaking his hand.

“hello max,” she says, visibly studying him, “what are you, a ceo? businessman? sports star?”

”auntie!” you say, shocked, cutting max off from his response. that rude bitch. although she looked relatively kind from the outside, all she really cared about anyone was their power and money. which was probably why your cousin married a mega popstar that was away half the time. like the rest of your family, money trumped true love. “you can’t just start a conversation like that!”

max shakes his head, “no, no, it’s alright. i’m an engineer.”

“ah,” your aunt says, knowingly. taking a sip of her champagne, she continues, “head engineer, huh? of what company?”

thinking he might have misheard her, max corrects her, “oh- no, not head engineer, just an engineer, like in an office.”

your great-aunt’s friendly demeanor automatically drops.

“just an engineer?” she responds, coldly.

you notice how max’s face falls the slightest bit, before he plasters a fake polite smile on his face. he shuffles uncomfortably, glancing at you, as if saying, did i say something wrong?

before you can say something rather rude to your aunt, a hand clasps your shoulder. turning around, your brother beams at you.

“sister!” he exclaims. “i haven’t seen you in a hot sec. too busy partying in monaco, huh? or doing your silly little business things for redbull?”

he then eyes max, to which he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “who’s this, huh? your boyfriend?”

”yes,” you snap, still a little pissed from your aunt’s rude reaction.

your brother puts his hands up jokingly, in a surrender position. “damn, okay, no need to be defensive.”

he sticks out his hand to your boyfriend, who takes it gladly.

“what’s up, dude,” your brother says, shaking max’s hand. “i saw you pull up with my sister in that sick aston martin valkyrie! you must have some insane connections- the waitlist for that baby is like years long.”

your aunt answers before your boyfriend can.

“there’s no way he could have bought that car- he’s just an office engineer at some company at who knows where,” she says pointedly.

hearing this, your brother’s impressed look turns into a sneer of disdain. he steps back from max in disgust, as if he had just turned into some horrible monster. he chuckles at you.

”wow, sister, you’ve outdone yourself huh? an office engineer?”

your family, slowly becoming aware of something going on, turns towards the scene. a wide-eyed martin garrix turns off the booming music in the back.

you shove your brother further away from max, causing the glass of champagne to spill onto your brother’s designer suit.

“what’s wrong with you?” you exclaim angrily. “at least he has a job, unlike you!”

ignoring the bubbling liquid staining his suit and your enraged expression, he turns toward max, still eyeing him with disgust. “how pathetic, leeching off of my sister’s money as a ceo? ha, you probably used her card to buy that valkyrie, didn’t you?”

next to you, stunned into silence, max’s blue eyes begin to fill with tears.

behind you, your aunt lets out a cackle of laughter, along with a few members of the crowd.

you just about launch yourself at your brother, wanting more than anything to bash his head in.

as if it couldn’t get worse, your mother pushes through the crowd gathered around you both, and grabs your arm before you can make contact with your brother.

“hey!” she yells, yanking you back. “what is going on here?”

your brother grins, pointing at max. “your precious daughter went and got herself a little gold digger boyfriend- and look, he’s crying!”

you glance over to max, heart sinking. like your brother said, he had a tear running down his face, and he shook a little with embarrassment. it reminded you of a story that max once told you, how his father had often upset him as a child when he was forced to do karting. an anger flared inside of you. max had only wanted to be a good boyfriend and introduce himself to your family, but was in turn ridiculed in front of a crowd by your hypocrite brother.

your mother turns to max, then turns to you.

“is this true, darling?” she asks, tilting her head. “does he exploit you for money?”

does max exploit you for money? you can hardly even comprehend the ridiculous sentence. you roughly yank your arm out of your mother’s grasp and march over to max. you lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze.

you turn towards your chuckling brother. he won’t be laughing soon.

“you’re really one to talk, brother! you think you’re hot shit, with a large chunk of mother’s company stocks. well, wouldn't it be a shame if everyone knew that you are in debt from your uncontrollable gambling problem, hmm? i wonder what your wife feels about that?”

you take comfort in the way the smug smile drops from your brother’s face, now replaced with a withering glare. the silent crowd gathered around the scene lets out a gasp, in light of this news. their focus now was trained on your brother instead of max.

“and you!” you exclaim, turning to your aunt. “since you think the word gold digger is so funny, auntie, wouldn’t you like to know how your own daughter is one, huh?”

your aunt jerks back, not used to the crowd’s attention trained on her, along with your harsh words.

”yeah,” you continue, “if you would stop judging people based on their worth in money, you might have been able to see that all she does is spend her husband‘s money on inane things in order to ignore his multiple affairs!”

from the back of the room, you hear your cousin burst into tears while her mother, your aunt, standing in front of you, turns as red as a tomato.

gently, you lead max towards the gilded gold front door. your family gives you judgemental looks as you make your way through the crowd. turning back one last time before you step out, you address the crowd. “don’t think any of you guys are any better. all you lot do is leech off of trust fund money!”

max stays silent all the way to your penthouse, as do you. after a hot shower, you bundle him up in your soft fluffy blankets until he looks the puft marshmallow man. you can’t help but feel terrible. he silently shuffles towards you, which you respond by pulling his head against your chest. jimmy and sassy watch wearily from a distance on the carpet.

you are the first to cut through the silence.

“i am so sorry that my family did that to you, maxie.”

he doesn’t answer, but the new tears that soak your expensive silk pajama set does the answering for him.

you run your hand through his damp strands of light brown hair, and rub his back comfortingly.

he pulls back from your embrace to wipe his eyes briefly.

“why do you love me?” he hiccups, cheeks wet with tears. “like- i have no money, two cats that you hate, and- and- a tiny apartment-“

“max!” you say, cutting him off from his ramblings. “listen to me.”

you look into his watery eyes, eyelashes wet with tears.

”i really don’t care if you lived in a literal dirt hole with no job, or if you were a formula one world champion. i would love you no matter what. i love your blue eyes and your pouty lips and your lisp, and your cologne, and the bread that you bake, and your little apartment and even though it may not seem like it, i love your stupid cats too.“

he chuckles wetly at the last part of your sentence.

you kiss the top of his head.

”you don’t know how much i love you, max emillian verstappen.”

a devious grin slips onto his face. he shoots you a sultry look.

“show me.”

and you do.

later, when max lays asleep on the bed, love bites on his neck, face slightly flushed, and back bare, you get up to fetch your phone.

the person you seek is only a few taps away. he picks up on the second ring, politely greeting you even though it was an ungodly hour. you tell him your request, but he hesitates slightly.

”are you sure-“

you cut your financial advisor off as politely as possible.

“yes, that’s right. i would like to buy the entirety of my mother’s companies and my father’s estates.”

the sounds of pencil scratching paper fills your ears before your financial advisor lets out a sound of approval.

“right away, ma’am!”

a/n: APOLOGIES for my week-long hiatus!! take this fic as an apology... your normal spinoff series! scheduling will resume shortly <3

also let me know if you have a better name for this piece- i was STRUGGLING trying to name this one ;-;

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf fic #f1 imagine #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #mv1 x y/n #mv1 x reader #mv1 x you #📝

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mv1simp · 5 months ago

Text

Earned It ♥️

Max Verstappen x Wife! Reader

cause girl you’re perfect, you’re always worth it (I see nobody, nobody but you)

PART TWO HERE ♥️

The story of how you met your husband, Max Verstappen, is a fan favourite. A classic rags to riches Cinderella story - well, in this case, a working class med student with an outrageous loan meets F1 multimillionaire. For years, you two dodge the questions of having kids, due to your busy careers. But lately, your husband can’t stop thinking about a 3rd addition to your family…and no, he didn’t mean another cat.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, fluff, humour, pregnancy, angst but happy ending, very brief description of sexual harassment (not from Max obviously), simp!Max, brat! reader, smut, size kink, breeding kink (very versatile from me for once), 5.7k WC

Guys, seriously, we’ve talked about this behaviour, you need to be tidier. You look up from your comfortable position on the couch, where you’re typing away one of your research projects, to see your darling husband gently scolding your three pets. You muffle your laughter with your hand, 20karat diamond ring glinting, admiring his toned build as he stands with his hands on his slim hips, reprimanding the two cats - Sassy and Jimmy - and labrador Arlo about the mess they’d made on the patio. Hearing your giggles as you fail to contain yourself, Max turns around, grinning at the pretty sound. All done, schat? Want to go out for some lunch?

You hmm in agreement, standing up to stretch and walking over to him with a cheeky expression. But first I need you to explain just what you’re doing here. You know they can’t understand you right, babe?

Max immediately tells your three so called “kids” to ignore your blasphemous words, making you giggle again at what a dork your husband was. No one would ever guess how sweet and domestic he was with you, compared to the ferocious lion he was when terrorising his rivals on the track. It is a very serious matter, schat, Max says indignantly. You’d let them get away with murder. I’m the only one who upholds any discipline in this household.

You stand on your tippy toes to kiss him lovingly on the cheek to appease him, batting your eyelashes innocently as you say sorry, baby, shall I make it up to you? and any annoyance Max had slips away as he pulls your petite frame against his much larger one to press a kiss to your lips instead. You two had been married for almost two years now, and dating for six before that, but you simply can’t get enough of each other - even now, as your innocent kiss deepens into a steamy make out session that has you panting and grinding against your husband’s thick thighs as he squeezes your plush ass with his large hands. You’re just about to ask him to carry you to the bedroom when your on-call phone rings, signalling an emergency at the hospital. Sorry, baby you say, apologising genuinely this time with a guilty look. I have to get this, go ahead and eat and I’ll make us some dinner when I’m back, ok?

Max reassures you that you have nothing to worry about, and that he’d make dinner of course, you’re going to be tired after sorting out an emergency. Your heart swells at how thoughtful he is of you and your busy career. You give him one last quick kiss before speeding out the door, scrubs on and barking orders over the phone already.

Admittedly, it hadn’t always been like this. When you had started dating, Max had been the considerably busier one - at the peak of his racing career and collecting multiple world championships as if it were child’s play. And the way you met was a classic dinner party story - F1 driver crashes his Ferrari into studious med student. It was hotly debated as to whether the fault lay with him for illegally going 80 in a 40 zone, or with you for walking with your nose buried in a textbook. Regardless, his insane reflexes had slammed on the brakes just in the nick of time to stop any real damage happening, but your textbook had gone flying in the air and straight on top of a passing truck, disappearing for good. You’d been devastated by the loss of it, more concerned with your upcoming final exam rather than any bodily harm, and as Max sprinted out from his car to worriedly ask if you were okay you’d whirled around angrily.

He was immediately struck with your natural beauty, with your pretty caramel skin and full lips and dark curls. Then he realized you were furiously pointing a finger at him and roasting his driving skills. Watch were you’re going! God, what is it with you boy racers speeding through the tiny side streets?

What?! Boy racer? Oh, Max was not going to let this grave insult slide, yelling back that he was a World-class driver, thank you, and you were the one who needs to watch where you’re going cause who reads and walks, that’s just dumb-

You cut him off, demanding to know who he worked for. Uber? Lyft? Monaco Taxi Incorporated? I’ll be sure to leave a scathing Google review, you said hotly.

Max had now realized you had absolutely no clue who he was, so basically he just looked like a complete dickhead - including to all the passerbys who gawked at the incriminating scene of the 6 foot Dutchman childishly arguing with a 5 foot, pouting girl. Deflating, he offers you his insurance information but you rolled your eyes and walked off, muttering about the goddamn Monaco elite in their Ferrari taxis.

He’d forgotten all about you until 6 months later, when he and Lando end up in the emergency department after a padel game gone wrong, only to find you pulling back the curtain - looking for Max, wait, Uber driver Max?! You’d narrowed your gorgeous doe eyes at him, then demanded to know if he was here cause he’d gotten in another hit and run. It was not a hit and run, that is an incredibly misleading statement, Max hissed, ignoring Lando’s goggle eyed stare, cause why on earth was his mate arguing with the pretty doctor who thought he drove for Uber and not F1 World Cup winning team Redbull-

The third time you had run into each other, at a charity ball where both your employers were sponsors, Max was convinced it was fate. Either that, or you were a crazy stalker. But he was, like, 98% sure it was fate as he felt his heart race at the sight of you in a fitted red silk dress and gold stilettos, your short frame still not even brushing his chin. This time round, you knew who he really was, and had an embarrassed flush on your pretty face as you said you know, you could have corrected me, it was a very awkward lunchbreak that day when the nurses starting asking if I’d gotten your signature.

He laughed, finding you adorable, and held out his hand for you to shake, grinning Let’s start over then, shall we? You’d easily returned the gesture, an undeniable spark running up both your arms as you touched. And a few months later, at the exact street where you first met, he pulled out a copy of your missing textbook that you excitedly took, laughing that he remembered only to gasp as you open it to see his messy scrawl - Thanks for not suing me, want to be my girlfriend instead of my victim? And the rest had been history, with you two now blissfully married years later.

Sure, you had your fair share of ups and downs, just like any couple did. Before your marriage, Max’s busy career meant that he was away more often than not, and although it helped that you had a busy life yourself, he knew you missed having him there at home after a long day or by your side at friends’ weddings where you’d have to attend solo. But you never complained, never asked for more because you understood that at this time of his life, his career would be first priority, and always supported him with diligently made meal preps, looking after his cats when he went away, and late night debriefs after arguments with his demanding father, your soothing voice helping calm down the burning anger in his chest.

And although you couldn’t attend every race like the other WAGs, you’d always do your very best to make it. He still grins when he remembers his last Monaco race, where you’d gotten held up in emergency surgery and had sprinted straight to the track, not having time to change into the Chanel outfit you’d sweetly picked out the night before (from a very large pile Max had generously insisted you fund with his black Amex). You’d made it just in time to see him cross the line in P1, and the pictures of you happily crying for his win as you jumped into his arms, still in your scrubs, long curls flying as he whirled you around went absolutely viral on social media. He was glad for it too, because you received so much online hate for not always being dressed like a model and by his side at every event - and knew that deep down, you felt guilty about it, even though it was such an unfair double standard. So he’d framed that famous shot of you and hung it in the entryway, so it would be the first thing everyone would see when they walk in, and understand why Max’s heart swelled with pure love and adoration whenever he looked at you.

So when he had gotten his fill with his eight - eight! - world championships and wanted to spend his Sunday mornings waking you up with his skilled tongue in between your soft thighs instead of on a racing track halfway across the world, he had promptly quit F1 - to the outrage of his father and thousands of fans - and stepped back to coach his own team instead. It was quite an accomplishment, you had thought amusedly when reading the headlines that year, to be known as the woman who had "seduced Max Verstappen to retire and become her trophy husband". Of course, Max stood for none of the media circus, retaining his infamous status as Mad Max when he openly shut down that storyline in a media statement that had blown up, making it clear that this had always been his plan and he would not be tolerating any slander of his beautiful wife whom he loved very much - who, by the way, was now the associate head of the emergency department, had they heard?

As time passed the fans eventually relaxed and enjoyed the new talent that came on, with your husband still a common figure on the paddock as coach. He'd had more time these past two years to look after you now - cooking your favourite meals and meeting you on the hospital rooftop for lunch and making all the nurses blush at how romantic your husband was, picking you up from a late shift in his Ferrari, taking you jewellery shopping in Paris one weekend then stiletto shopping in Milan the next with all your bags in his hands and his Amex in yours, and listening attentively in the living room as you practised your powerpoints on Intracranial Haemorrhage: Do early CAT scans change mortality rates? Your personal favourite gift, though, had to be when he'd brought home a 2 month old golden labrador as your birthday present. You'd always wanted a dog but had never had time for one on top of his two cats - but now, with Max home more often, he was able to look after all 3 of your kids, as you both affectionately referred to them.

And speaking of kids - the topic was something that had increasingly come up over the family events and meetups with friends you two went to. Of course, when it had first been asked, the two of you had dismissed it given there was simply no time with your careers. You religiously used contraception - with you on the pill and Max using condoms everytime. At one point, though, you both realised you rather enjoyed doing it raw - when the condom had broken after a particular rough session post 6th WDC win. Max still remembered your blushing face as he came down from what had been one of the most intense orgasms of his life, already addicted to the feeling of spilling inside you. You had bit your lip, shyly saying you know Maxie, the pill is 99% effective, I don't think we need to use condoms anymore-

He'd cut you off with a pleased growl, sealing his lips back onto yours for Round 2 as the thought of getting to fill you up every night sent all the blood rushing to his cock. Safe to say, there hadn't been a box of condoms in your home for a very long time. But as time passed after your marriage, Max started to feel an unfamiliar desire simmer in his gut everytime he saw you playing with his nieces and nephews, or when he would be showing Daniel's toddler how to operate a racekart, or when he’d finish inside you, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure, and wonder what would happen if you weren’t on the pill. He avoided saying anything as your answer to the kids? question at Family Xmas was still not right now.

But lately he hadn't been able to deny the aching yearn he felt any longer, and especially not when you two had been celebrating Charles' and Alex's pregnancy announcement on their yacht last weekend. You'd looked so happy for the couple, congratulating Alex on her glow and admiring the ultrasound pictures but all Max could think about was how amazing he was sure you'd look carrying his child, how he wanted to have your baby scans on the fridge door and argue over names, how he was sure you would be the most amazing mother to his kids and he couldn’t have picked a better wife. He must have been looking quite jealously at the scene because Charles comes upto him, greeting him with a Hey, mate and a knowing smirk. Max grunts, sipping his G&T, then realises he might be acting in a way you would refer to as "dickhead behaviour", so he also throws in a gruff congratulations.

Charles' is not having it though, having recognised the intensity which Max was staring you down with. You know, he starts, prompting Max out of his one-way thoughts, You could always try bringing it up directly with her instead of expecting her to read your mind, hmm? Max glanced at him side ways. Already practising your fatherly advice? He joked, diffusing the tension, before the conversation moved onto how the new young F1 drivers just didn’t appreciate a good wheel to wheel battle like back in their karting days.

Charles' words stuck with him throughout the week, and one night as you both settled down for bed, he decided it was time to ask. Schatje? he begun, watching you from his position in the bed as you brushed out your damp curls in the mirror, dressed in a cute silk nightie. You hmmed at him, slightly distracted by a tangle in your hair but prompting him to continue. You know, I was, well -whatdoyouthinkaboutgettingpregnant?

You frowned slightly, still distracted by the tangle in your hair. Who, Alex and Charles? I think it's great, they've wanted kids for a while now, right?

Max takes a deep breath, tells himself to stop being a pussy, and walks over to you, taking the comb away as he brushes out the tangle himself. You look at him curiously as he tilts your head up with his large palm, brushing your cheek lovingly as his ice blue eyes meet yours. No, shcat he murmurs gently. I mean us, getting pregnant, having a baby. How do you feel about that?

Your jaw drops open at his words as your brain temporarily stopped working. You feel your face blush from the thought of your husband getting you pregnant. As hot as it sounded, out of all the things, you hadn't expected him to say that. You realise your surprised silence was making Max freak out, the telltale sign of a crinkle between his brows. You scramble to come up with a response, stuttering that Oh, sorry, I hadn't really thought about it, I guess and that we'd both been busy with work for so long it kind of...slipped my mind?

But what do you think, liefje, your husband pressed, hopeful. Do you want to try? You honestly weren't sure, this was all so sudden and you needed a bit more time to process it - but when you told Max this you didn't miss the hurt look that flashes across his face as his insecurities rise up. He asked if the problem was that you didn't want to have kids with him, because how could you possibly not have thought about it, all our friends and family constantly bring it up all the time-

I don't know! you'd responded defensively, arms crossed. We'd been focusing on your racing for so long that I just stopped thinking about stuff like that. The argument had spiralled out of control quickly, Max demanding to know when you were going to stop holding that over him, and when you wanted to think about it then, you two weren't any younger, after all - prompting you to angrily accuse him of always putting his job above yours, because now that he had his fill he was ready to start a family but what about your career?!

You hadn’t been able to stop the tears that dripped down your face as the argument escalated into a full blown fight. Max had sighed seeing that, deflating and saying you should both head to bed for now. You’d lain next to him, feeling so cold without his usual warm bicep pulling you against him, trying to hold back more tears before you drifted into a fitful sleep. Max hadn’t been any better either, only falling asleep in the early hours of the morning and when he woke up, you were already gone. He’d started trying to look for you but then remembered you had a conference in London today you’d had to fly out for - you wouldn’t be back for a week, he reads on the note you’d left on the fridge.

Fuck, it had been a bad night to have such an ugly fight considering you two had left so much unresolved. Later, when he’s visiting his sister’s for dinner and watching her kids with the same burning want in his heart, his mother corners him and demands to know why he had shown up looking like a kicked puppy. Your wife’s been gone one day and you’re already so hopeless? She’d joked, but clearly had a concerned look in her eyes. He couldn’t stop himself then, opening up about the horrible fight. He feels terrible that you had ended up crying, but still can’t help feel that you were being purposely selfish, he explains, after all, we’d be raising the baby together, she can still have her career, no?

His mother had been silent for a while, taking it all in, before she gently reminded Max about how she, too, had been in the peak of her very successful karting career when Jos had gotten her pregnant. Your wife isn’t me, and you certainly are not your father, she said firmly. But she’s scared, Max, it’s not personal. She’s scared she could lose everything she’s spent years building while you get to have it all. It isn’t as easy for a mother to put her career on hold as it is for a father. Even if he’s as loving and caring as you will be, she reassures.

Max looked troubled, then, as your responses last night now started to make sense. God, he was such a terrible husband, how had he not considered that before? Sensing her son’s brain was running at 100 miles a minute, the older woman lays a soothing hand on his shoulder. Just give her some space, Max. Let her come to you. You two will work through this.

So he gives you the space, and 6 days later he’s standing at the arrivals area of the airport, stonily looking out the window at the planes landing but internally fighting a storm of emotions. You two had never had these many days of no contact in your whole marriage, and he’d said some vicious things that night, and what if in the time away you had decided you would be better off without him? His jaw clenched at the idea of losing you. God, maybe he shouldn’t have given you space but spammed your phone, begging for forgiveness. Why was marriage so much more confusing than driving a car at 200kmph?

Suddenly, he hears the click of your familiar YSL heels walking up to him and he turns frantically to see your petite figure come to a stop a few feet away. Your face looks just as troubled as his, but as soon as your eyes meet you can’t control yourself and run forward to jump into his arms. Max welcomes you eagerly, all his tension releasing as he hugs you tightly, broad arms easily lifting you up and pressing his face into your neck to breathe in your perfume. You’re rapidly saying something about how you were so sorry, you had overreacted - You don’t have to apologise for anything, liefje, Max says fiercely, God, I missed you so, so much. I shouldn’t have brought it up so suddenly. Take all the time you need, okay?

You blink back happy tears, heart so full at your understanding husband as you looked up into his blue eyes adoringly before sharing a loving kiss. Passerbys smiled at the sweet scene you two made. Max took you home, one hand carrying your luggage and the other firmly around your waist, as if he was paranoid you were going to disappear. Again, in the car, his hand stayed glued to your thigh, softly stroking it as you told him about your week in London. And then at home, you had to stop him as he got ready to climb into the shower with you, giggling and saying you were starving, baby, did he want to grab some dinner for you two?

He’d pouted, but then perked up excitedly once you promised you two could go for a swim in the pool after dinner instead. Need anything else while I’m out, schat? He asked, grabbing the Ferrari keys. You hesitated, making him turn around, as you blushed a little and said Would you mind grabbing some condoms, Maxie? I forgot to take my pill to London so I haven’t been on anything for a week…

You search his face for any hint that he’s upset you still needed time, but found none, only a gentle expression on his face as he pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. Of course, schatje, he says lovingly before heading out. You watch him go, a devious smirk now on your face. A part of you felt bad for the game that you were planning on playing with your husband later that evening - but, oh well, you had to have some fun in a marriage, right? And your sweet, darling, perfect husband had passed the test with flying colours tonight, showing his dedication to putting your needs first.

The truth was, you’d also reflected on your marriage and its future in London. You’d thought and thought until you could think no more about whether or not it was time to have kids, if you should even have kids, not because you didn’t want them but because you were so worried about how it would derail the career you’d worked so hard to build. And then you’d remembered how Max would spend hours quizzing you for your residency exams, while you were on the toilet or in the kitchen, making sure you got every answer right and you’d passed with full marks.

Or how you knew you loved Max for the first time, when he had stood by your side and steadied you as you shakily reported to your boss about a supervisor who’d developed a nasty habit of feeling you up at work and barring you from surgeries if you said no. Max had stood by you through it all, his large, gentle hands holding your own, a contrast to the thunderous expression on his face at anyone who tried to give you a hard time when you came forward - and he didn’t ease up until the creep had been permanently stripped of his medical license. Even now, when you’d sometimes shiver at the memory, he’d pull you into his safe arms, murmuring how proud he was of you, schat, you were so brave for speaking up.

You thought about how warm you’d felt seeing Max gently rock his nephew in his strong arms, or how impressed you had been seeing how he taught the kids how to drive a kart, or how devoted he was to your marriage and your three pets, always being there to provide for you and support you however you needed him to be - mentally, physically, emotionally. Max really was the best husband to you, and he’d be the best father to your kids. And you knew you had your answer.

So now, after eating your favourite dinner of Italian pasta, expensive red wine and tiramisu for dessert, you got changed into your bikini, a skimpy pink number Max always enjoyed, and slipped on a gold choker with matching anklets, all adorned with the letter M - a custom made Cartier set he’d brought for you on his birthday, as a gift to himself. The box of condoms he’d picked up lays on the bedside table. You smirk at them as you pass by - they won’t be needed much longer. Not that your husband had any clue of that - yet, and you couldn’t wait to see the expression on his face when he figured out just how you were going to reward his devotion tonight. Picking up a second bottle of wine, you take a good swig and make your way out to the dark backyard where Max is shirtless, the pool’s neon lights reflecting the water droplets that slide down his large, muscular back. Shit, you had to stay extra focused if he was going to be looking so delectable tonight!

He turns as he hears your anklets tinkle, smirking as he takes in your dolled up appearance, all for him. Coming in, schat? He calls huskily, feeling his cock hardening at the sight of you after a whole maddening week away. Just admiring the view, you say cheekily, taking another swig from the wine and slowly stepping into the pool. You can feel your husband’s hungry gaze sliding up your curvy body, and you shiver, feeling rather like a deer caught in a lion’s trap even though you were the one playing games tonight. You come to a stop in front of him, your head barely reaching his upper chest, giving him a generous view as your tits spilled around the tiny bikini. You sultrily gaze right into his darkening blue eyes as you take yet another sip of the wine, your pink tongue darting out to circle the tip of the bottle in quite the slutty manoeuvre. Missed you, Maxie you say coyly. Especially missed having you inside me.

He growls lowly at your teasing, easily taking the bottle off you and downing the rest before discarding it to the side. You whine as he puts a stop to your antics, pouty lips and large doe eyes staring up at him invitingly. Chuckling, he places a large palm across your ass and lifts you up against him. Your thighs wrap themselves around his toned waist and your hands tangle in his soft hair, gently tugging on the strands just the way he likes it. Now face to face, you tease him further, whispering in his ear about how lonely you’d been while away, how normally you’d call him and have him talk you through an orgasm, and how your tiny fingers hadn’t been able to make you cum all week because you needed his thick ones to stretch you open.

Fuckkk, schat, Max breathes, feeling his cock grow impossibly hard, his blue eyes completely darkened by lust. I missed that filthy little mouth of yours so much. He glides his thumb along your pink lips and you part them easily, taking him in and swirling your tongue around him. He can’t hold himself back any longer, pulling you in and replacing his thumb with his tongue. You moan into the dirty kiss, running your hands along his muscular shoulders, addicted to the feeling of his strong, thick biceps caging you against him. Your bikini strings are deftly untied as he practically rips it off of you, breaking the kiss to lean you back and suck on your pretty nipples. You squeal as he gently bites down, murmuring maybe you shouldn’t have been such a cocktease, schat.

You’re now grinding your pussy against his abs, begging him for more, please, Maxie and asking him to take you to bed. He smirks at how easily you fall apart under his tongue, squeezing your ass as he carries you inside, always giving you what you wanted like the devoted husband he is. You two have no regard for the sheets as you drip water all over them, foreplay long forgotten as your bikini bottoms are yanked off, followed by his trunks. You’d honestly forgotten about the damn condoms by this point but Max hadn’t, hurriedly ripping open a packet with his teeth as you whine at him to hurry up, Maxie, I can’t take it- Oh!

You moan blissfully as he buries himself inside you. Feels like coming home everytime, schat, he breathes out as he holds his position for a few beats before he starts thrusting into you. Holy shit, that felt sooo good. You didn’t think you were going to last very long at all - putting a time limit on your plan. You let him get a few more thrusts in you before you start begging again, this time asking Maxie, wait, can-can we please take the condom off?

He looks down at you in surprise, saying you hadn’t been on the pill this week schat, it’ll be risky-

Oh, your darling husband still hadn’t caught on to your suprise, and as you whine that it’s okay, you can just pull out, right Maxie? you almost giggle from the strained expression on his face as he considers that feat of self restraint. But he wasn’t going to say no to you, not when you were below him with your lush dark curls spread around you and looking up at him so adoringly, so he reaches down and pulls the condom off and sinks back inside you.

Shit. He swears at the vice grip you have his cock in, one hand automatically going to grasp the headboard to try and maintain some control and ground himself. But you’re begging for more and it feels so good to be back inside you, raw, feeling your slick heat up on his thick cock that his thrusts start getting sloppier. He’s panting above you, both hands now gripping the headboard to hold himself back from the urge to cum inside you.

Your devilish eyes don’t miss this, and you grab his thick wrists to pull them down so his hands rest on your bouncing tits, begging him to play with them, please. Oh, shit, he feels his orgasm quickly approaching from your positively filthy demands tonight. But as he starts to pull back you wrap your legs around him tightly, keeping him in place as you make your final demand - Noo, Maxie, don’t pull out, you can come inside me, it’s ok-

Perplexed, knowing he can break your grip around him in half a second, your husband is now very confused as he points out with gritted teeth that no condom and no pill and no pulling out meant-Yes, yes, I know! You whine impatiently. I want it Maxie, I’m ready now, come inside, I want to get pregnant!

Max pauses above you, this time being the one to have his brain function temporarily suspended as he slowly figures out just what you’re saying. Are you sure, schat-

You roll your eyes, sinking yourself down onto his cock, making him moan, and hoping he gets the message. Oh, I’m definitely sure, dear husband, you say sultrily. Now, are you going to fuck a baby into me or what?

He finally clicks, his confused gaze now morphing into pure joy as he grins down at you, and you can’t help but grin back, the two of you finally ready to progress into the next step of your marriage together. He pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, catching you off guard. You know I love you right, schat? He murmurs, and you nod, confused where he was taking this. Good, cause I’m about to fuck you like I hate you. That was a dirty game you played, yeah? Edging me all night when you were gonna let me fuck you raw all along. Gonna have to punish you real good for that. He growls darkly, his large hand coming to squeeze your throat, making you gasp in delight.

Oh, you loved when Mad Max came out to play. Your legs are tossed over his shoulders and then pressed all the way back against your soft tummy, into a mating press. The unfamiliar position has you screaming in pleasure, your anklets dangling by your face as he thrusts his way back into you. Your husband chuckles wickedly at your reaction, pumping into you deeply and making the headboard bang against the wall each time.

And true to his word, he punishes you thoroughly, not stopping despite your overstimulated pleas as you repeatedly orgasm, instead cumming inside you over and over and over again, leaving you obscenely full with his thick load.

And when you finally pass out into blissful darkness, he meanly fucks you awake again, demanding that you take another round from him like the good little wife you are, aren’t you, so obedient for me, hmm? Gonna fuck you stupid until you’re finally pregnant with my kids, like you always should have been.

Safe to say, you didn’t get much sleep that night, or for many nights after 💖

—————————————————————————

UPDATE: PART TWO out now!!

A/N: damn this is a whole ass essay. I love simp husband max so much tho I couldn’t help it 🥺might make a part 2 about the pregnancy and protective max hehe if people like this! Lmk what you think 🫶🫶

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #max verstappen x oc #f1 x reader #fluff #18+ mdni #f1 smut #smut #mv1 #mv33 #formula 1

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der7py · 6 months ago

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Yandere Ceo x reader

Damien Sanchez. Easily one of the world'overs biggest ceo owners ever, owning nearly over 50 companies, and being married over 42 different times since he was 18. It was no shocker. He was incredibly crude and stuck up to all of his employees. But he's more soft towards you, little butterfly.

Warnings: Mature language, age gap, implied murder, work abuse, unfair amount of power in the work field, degradation, Slight babying if you squint, unfair treatment, favoritism

Working for the Damien Sanchez was definitely an opportunity you didn't want to pass! Even if all former and current employees were strongly advising against it.

You worked as a receptionist in one of his companies on the first floor. Apparently, each floor was something completely different than the last! But it was advised in the rules you mind your own business on your own floor.

You barely ever saw the boss. But it was fine! You made bank as a receptionist, so running into the boss wasn't really any of your concern. He probably wasn't even that bad!

That was until you heard a strong voice yelling at another employee from the 5th floor.

Apparently, his coffee wasn't brewed right, and that warranted him firing the employee on the spot. Soon, the elevator made a ding, and the big man himself stomped right over to you. You could've sworn all of the employees scattered like rats.

"You! Yes, you! Go brew me a dark coffee. None of that sweet stuff now get going or so help me god I'll fire you too!" You immediately ran to the closet coffee maker to make it for him. You had bills to pay!

You rushed back over with his coffee, where he was impatiently tapping his foot on the ground. You were surprised you didn't spill it everywhere, or fall straight on your face the way you practically threw it in his hands.

_______________________

He sipped his coffee, clearly taking his time while you squirmed under his gaze. Jesus, he really was intimidating with how fast your job could be on the line. "Mm... good job. What's your name?" He asked, raising a brow at you and your squirming figure. You immediately straightened up, letting out a silent sigh of relief. "Y/n Mr. Sanchez!" He nodded his head, snapping his fingers as he drank more of his coffee. "How unique. Anyways, you're moving up in the ranks, kid. 10th floor as my new assistant, get your bags." Without another word, he walked to the elevator and took it all the way back up.

Holy shit. Holy shit! Did you just get promoted?! This job was even better than what you thought! You wasted no time packing everything up and running to the elevator, a big grin on your face. You were eating good this week! As you checked your phone to tell your friends and family the good news, you forgot you had an article about your boss pulled up.

It was no surprise to anyone that your boss had been married 42 different times. You did admire him for his pull game, but figured he had bad luck. Maybe they were all gold diggers! But apparently, people had theories of what really was happening. All of his spouses mysteriously disappeared a few days after Damien and his newly wed spouse got married. Then he'd get all the inheritance money and whatever companies they owned, considering all 42 were rich. Some people were theorizing, he murdered them. Man people were crazy with their conspiracy theories.

But you remembered you never did see the old assistant leave the building.

_______________________

He liked how eager you were to take the new position as his assistant. Maybe you wouldn't fuck up as much as his old assistant. The old bastard could barely make a coffee for him.

You took your new role very seriously, and he appreciated that about you. Even if the other employees picked on you for being relatively young. They all disappeared anyway.

Over the few weeks, he found himself drawn to you. You were his little butterfly. So full of life unlike the other scum in all of his companies.

He made sure to be extra careful and lenient with you. Oh, you accidentally misfiled an extremely important file? Oh, it's fine, darling. He used to make that mistake all the time.

Oh, you spilled coffee on his brand new outfit? It's fine, little butterfly, he has the same outfit 5 times just in case.

But anytime, any other employee dare make a mistake as little as dropping a staple while he was walking? Fired immediately. What were they thinking? Idiots.

You never noticed how much more soft he was with you. And he was determined to keep it that way. He didn't want you getting hurt over any special treatment you definitely might be receiving.

He felt alive with you. Hell! Sometimes, he upped your pay just because you smiled at him! You really were a precious angel that needed to be protected. A butterfly with delicate wings.

Just quit researching about his past spouses' disappearances, or else he'll have to clip those pretty little wings before you fly too far and find out what really happened.

#yandere #yandere character #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #male yandere x you #yandere ceo

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onlymingyus · 26 days ago

Text

Your Eyes Only

pairing; choi soobin x f!reader x park sunghoon

genre; smut (minor dni), angst, midly toxic, comedy, fluff

summary; Groups projects are the worst, right? But when your group is Soobin and Sunghoon it gets interesting.

content warnings; poly themes, rich kids, university au, jealousy, self-confidence issues, fuck boy!sunghoon, nerd!soobin, alcohol, drug mentioned, mild bullying.

smut warnings; protected sex, semi-unprotected sex, cum play, fingering, oral (f/m giving and receiving), hand job, cum eating, double penetration, anal sex, anal fingering, very mild mlm, pets names/degrading names, dirty talk, glasses kink, begging.

w/c; 21k and some change

a/n; thank you to @junkissed for proofreading for me and givng me the courage to write outside of my svt box. i know this is different BUT if you are looking for the svt version (wonwoo & jeonghan) it is on my patreon right now

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Chewing on the end of your pen, you tap your heel against the leg of the table as you listen to your professor explain the basics of the project that would pass or fail you in his class. You had spent most of your time at university avoiding any course that you knew would involve a group project, but this was one class you couldn’t get out of.

“You will be randomly paired with a partner for this project.” Glancing around, your professor sighs and looks down the list of names in front of him before pursing his lips. “And one group will have to welcome in a third. You can thank those who dropped the class for the uneven number.”

It was no secret that there were those in the class who were well acquainted with each other and those who were set up for success in the business field, so the random assignment of partners was already making everyone nervous. You were somewhere in the middle of everyone. You weren’t unknown, and it wasn’t like you didn’t have connections after you graduated, but you were no Park Sunghoon with your life already on a silver platter in front of you.

Glancing up as your professor starts to move through the classroom, you swallow hard as he starts to call out names, putting together the groups.

“Lee Yongbok, you will be with Kang Taehyun.”

Great. Only one pair had been named, and you already felt like you were going to be left with someone who would leave you with 90% of the work. Puffing up your cheeks, you glance around the room before quicking looking down at your desk when you meet the one person’s eyes that you had been trying to avoid, Sunghoon. He looked so smug—like he didn’t give a shit about who he was put with, because it honestly didn’t matter. He knew he wouldn’t fail, and he probably wouldn’t have to do a damn thing. This would all be fine as long as you didn’t get put with—

“Park Sunghoon, you will be with Y/N Y/L/N.”

Letting out a deep breath, louder than you mean to, you meet your professor's eyes just before he looks down at his clipboard and purses his lips. “I think honestly this might be the perfect group for a third, so I’m going to add Choi Soobin. You don’t mind, do you, Mr. Park?’

Of course your professor had only asked Sunghoon if he minded. What if you had an issue with it? Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Soobin glances from the professor at the front of the room towards you and then Sunghoon as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“It’s whatever. I can make it work.”

“Perfect, I knew I could count on you.”

The sound of your professor's voice is almost muffled as he continues to call out names, Hwang Yeji being paired with Ning Yizhuo and Park Jongseong with Julie Han. None of them mattered because you could feel eyes on you and were too nervous to look up and see who they belonged to.

“That’s everyone. Now, take the rest of the hour to get acquainted and make a plan for your project. Remember, I want a detailed business plan that I would actually want to put money into. This is 75% of your grade. I expect results.”

Finally looking up, you are relieved to see the room moving into action and no one staring at you. It isn’t until Sunghoon lifts his brows and slides from his chair, picking up his bag, that you feel your heart in your chest. You hadn’t spent much time with him before. He made you nervous—he made almost everyone nervous.

Sunghoon’s father was the CEO of some multimillion-dollar company, and he didn’t even need to be here, except his father wanted him to prove he could take the reins when the time came. Everyone knew that Sunghoon resented the decision, and while he was a genius—truly brilliant—he barely did any of the work and still managed to pass with flying colors by magic every single time.

The other side of Sunghoon was the one that you knew just by reputation. You didn’t have time to party. While some got their way here on their parent’s money, you had gotten in on a scholarship and had to keep your GPA where it was or risk your full ride. You heard about the parties every weekend; you had been invited—but you had stuck to your dorm almost every time. Sunghoon, on the other hand, did not. He hosted the parties and kept putting notches in his bedpost from what you had been told through the rumor mill.

“Dude, shit or get off the pot. Are you sitting on this side of her, or am I?” Sunghoon’s voice made your cheeks heat up as you looked up to watch him and Soobin stand in front of your table.

Soobin was, as far as you knew, the polar opposite of Sunghoon. He was quiet and reserved—more like you. His family was wealthy, and you knew that he probably didn’t need to be here either, but from what you had gathered, he chose to be here, like he had something to prove.

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Soobin narrows his eyes at Sunghoon and sighs before sliding into the chair on your left, leaving the right side open for the other man. He had never gotten along with Sunghoon. They had been in almost every single class together since day one, and somehow Sunghoon always was top of the class. It didn’t matter how much work Soobin put into something; Sunghoon’s smug ass was always one step ahead.

“Hey, Y/N. We, uh—we haven’t talked much. Excited to do the project with—”

“Oh my god, obvious much?”

Sinking down into the chair on your right, Sunghoon rests his arm on the back of your chair and looks around you at Soobin, cutting him off. Meanwhile, in the middle, you felt small as the tension built between the two. Clearing your throat, you lean forward to grab your notebook and pen in an attempt to clear the air.

“I’m excited to do the project with you too, Soobin.” Glancing towards him, you quickly look at Sunghoon, finding that it feels like a mistake as he meets your eyes with a smirk. “And with you too, Sunghoon, you know… of course.” Your mouth feels dry as Sunghoon’s smirk widens into a smile, his eyes moving over your face and dropping to your lips before he nods and furrows his brows in a teasing manner.

“Oh, I’m sure. You look thrilled, princess.”

Opening your mouth, you quickly close it as Sunghoon calls you princess, managing to fluster you even further. “I—no, I am. I mean—I just…um.” Shaking your head, you drop your pen onto your notebook and fish your cellphone from your purse as you swallow hard. “We should probably exchange numbers or something. So we can plan a time to meet and work on the project.”

Nodding, Soobin straightens his back as he furrows his brows, trying to keep his head clear as you struggle so much with your words. He hadn’t been lying when he said he was excited to work on the project with you. You had caught his eye weeks—maybe even months—ago and now he had a reason to talk to you, if he could keep Sunghoon’s claws off of you.

“Yeah, sure. Uh—” Smiling as you turn towards him, Soobin watches as you put his number into your phone; your thumbs quickly move over the screen before you tilt your head and meet his eyes.

“What emoji do you want?” Up close, Soobin was even more handsome than you realized. You weren’t stupid; you had looked at him and at Sunghoon before. While Sunghoon was a dangerous sort of sexy that made you both terrified and excited, Soobin made your stomach feel warm and tight when he smiled at you.

“Emoji? Do I need one?”

Sighing, you give Soobin an exasperated look as you scroll through the emoji’s landing on the smiley face with glasses. “Everyone needs one. You can’t be the only one without one in my phone, Soobin.”

“Are you gonna pick one out for me, or do I get to pick?”

Sunghoon’s voice causes chill bumps to erupt along your skin as you press your lips together and turn back in your seat to face the front of the room. “Uh, no, you can pick. I mean, unless you just want me to pick.”

Grinning at how flustered you seem every single time you talk to him, Sunghoon raises his brow and glances down at your phone as you put his name in and wait for him to tell you his number. “You can call or text anytime.” Leaning his arm back on his own chair, Sunghoon tilts his head as you go back up to his name and start to scroll through the emojis, not commenting on what he had said. “You pick one. I’m curious to see what you’ll choose.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you glance to the side at Sunghoon before letting it out in a sharp sigh, trying not to let him get to you. You aren’t sure if it’s just wanting to try to prove something to him or stupidity, but with a small burst of confidence, you purse your lips together and scroll until you find the devil emoji pressing down on it and then save.

“Wow. Damn, Y/N. That’s kinda hot.” Sliding his phone from his jacket pocket, Sunghoon quickly types your name into his contacts and puts an angel emoji next to your name before turning it towards you for you to put your own number in. “I already have Soobin’s number; I just need yours, Angel.”

Leaning his head back, Soobin tries not to show how annoyed he is at Sunghoon’s blatant flirting with you after he had tried to embarrass him from the get-go. Instead, he waits for you to finish putting your number into Sunghoon’s phone and for you to turn to him expectantly. He could almost see how flustered you were, and while Soobin wished that he was the cause, he wasn’t that dense. “Here you go.”

Quickly putting your number into Soobin’s phone, you meet his eyes as you scroll through the emojis one last time before picking the girl with glasses as your emoji and saving it in his phone. “Cool. Uh, did you guys wanna go ahead and set up a time and place to get started on the project? I kinda have a few ideas for some business proposals, but of course we should all have some so we can decide together.”

You were so cute as you tried to stay on task. No matter how much Sunghoon tried to tease you, and no matter how flustered he made you, you still found your way back to the task at hand. You were persistent; he had to hand it to you.

“I’m good anytime—well, not anytime. I have plans this weekend. So anytime before Friday night.”

Rolling his eyes, Soobin lets out a loud sigh and leans towards the table to rest his forearms on the top. Of course Sunghoon would have plans and make the rest of the group work around them. Furrowing his brows at Soobin’s outburst, Sunghoon shifts in his chair and lifts his hand from the table like a question.

“Problem?”

“I mean, yeah. Literally told, this is basically our entire grade and you’d rather get trashed—”

The tension is once again getting thick. You sit up straight and clear your throat, trying to stop the argument before it starts. You had been concerned about this group for other reasons, and now you were starting to realize you were going to be spending your time trying to keep Sunghoon and Soobin from killing each other for the few weeks it would take to complete the project and present it.

“We don’t have to meet this weekend. How about Thursday? No one has to cancel plans right now. We are just getting started.” Glancing from one man to the other, you look for sympathy as a slight pout forms on your lips. “Please don’t argue. I just want to get a good grade on this. I really need it. I just need you guys to help me pick something out, and I’ll research. I don’t need much.”

Taking a breath and pursing his lips, Sunghoon lets his eyes stay on Soobin for a moment longer—a look of contempt evident before he shifts his gaze to you, and it softens slightly. “It’s a date. Your place or mine?”

Hearing a soft, flustered “oh” leave your lips, Soobin shakes his head and sits back in his chair as you pick up your pen to just have something to do with your hands. Every class that he had shared with Sunghoon had gone exactly like this; somehow this was already worse. He had avoided having to do projects with him, and he hadn’t had to watch him flirt with the one girl he was interested in. It was like Sunghoon knew and was doing it on purpose.

“I—you know, either. Or, we could like just... Meet at the library and grab a room.” You could feel Sunghoon’s eyes, almost like they were burning your skin with how intense his gaze was. Soobin, on the other hand, was almost avoiding you now. “Or if Soobin has another idea—”

“I don’t like the library. I’d rather meet at my dorm or yours, Y/N.” Finally looking back up at you, Soobin sighs when he meets your eyes, and you nod, your teeth catching your bottom lip as you shift in your chair.

“Sh—sure, yeah. We can just meet at mine. Thursday, like 4 o’clock?”

Sunghoon smirks even as he nods, his eyes not even moving to the front of the room as everyone else in the room starts to move, noticing the time. Normally he would already be out the door and on his way on to the next thing, but you were far more interesting. “See you then, angel.”

“Yea—sure, sounds good.” Clearing his throat, Soobin is the first to move to his feet and grab his things before you push back your chair to do the same, causing you to take a step towards him. Taking a deep breath, Soobin meets your eyes and gives you a shy smile as he mutters an apology and steps off to the side, feeling his neck and face heating up.

“No problem.”

Your mind was spinning, every thought in it clouded by the scent of Soobin’s cologne, even though he isn’t right in front of you anymore as you lean over to pick up your bag and pull it up into your chair to pack up your things quickly. Sliding out of his chair, Sunghoon tilts his head, watching how your skirt lifts up just slightly on your thighs when you pick up your bag before he sighs and runs his fingers through his hair and raises his brows at an obviously flustered Soobin. He got it. You were cute as fuck and oblivious to how either one of them was looking at you. It was maddening.

“Text me later and let me know if you want me to bring drinks or something to this rager we are planning.” Walking backwards out of the room, Sunghoon flashes you a smile and winks as he turns on his heels out of the door.

“I—jesus. He’s insufferable.”

Glancing over to Soobin with your bag on your shoulder, you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips when he voices his displeasure for Sunghoon. You knew about their competitive nature in classes, but seeing it up close was a completely different thing. “He’s kinda funny, I don’t know. It’ll be okay. We just need a topic, and this will be easy, Soobin. Don’t stress about it. I’ll text you both later about Thursday.”

Letting out another breath watching you wave at him as you slip out of the room, Soobin leans his head back and curses under his breath at his shit luck. If this had been any other class and any other project when he could have you to himself, he might actually be looking forward to this. But no, Sunghoon had to be right there to fuck it up.

Tapping the screen of your phone, you sigh as the time ticks closer and closer to 4 p.m. You had managed to speed clean your small dorm room into something presentable within an hour, but even as you sat on your now freshly made bed, you were nervous about Sunghoon and Soobin seeing where you lived half of the year.

The knock at your door sends your heart into a panic; you feel it rising into your throat as you slide off your bed and smooth down the skirt of your dress as you give a quick glance at the mirror before reaching for the door handle. It doesn’t surprise you when you see Soobin first. He seemed, out of the two, the most responsible and prompt.

“Come in.” Taking a step back, you find yourself having to look down as a smile pulls at your lips, heat spreading over your cheeks at how Soobin looks at you. He didn’t look much different than any other day, but that was what you liked about him.

Pushing the dark frames of his glasses up his nose, Soobin’s smile widens as he moves past you into your room so he can glance around quickly. You were tidy and adorable. He was happy that you hadn’t decided to study in his room. Not that he was living like an animal, but it was overwhelming in the best ways to be surrounded by all of your things and your perfume.

“You can sit down anywhere. Sorry, I don’t have many options, but the desk and bed are up for grabs. I can always sit on the floor.”

Furrowing his brows at your words, Soobin shakes his head and drops his bag from his shoulder next to your desk before turning around to meet your eyes. “I wouldn’t make you sit on the floor. I’m sure there’s enough room for us all—”

You watch as Soobin’s smile fades slightly along with his words when the second knock draws his attention from you and towards the door. Swallowing hard, you shake out your hands before moving back to the door and pulling it open, instantly meeting Sunghoon’s eyes.

“I’m late to the party.”

Shaking your head, you step to the side. Gesturing for Sunghoon to come inside, you lick your lips as you try to think of the right words. “Uh, no—no. Soobin just got here. We were just talking about where to sit. I was telling him that you guys are welcome to sit on the bed and at my desk and I can sit on the floor.”

“Shit, why would you sit on the floor?” Scoffing, Sunghoon glances around your room much like Soobin had before he nods at the other man and meets your eyes once again. “We can both sit on the bed. Plenty big enough, princess.”

Soobin watches with narrowed eyes as Sunghoon sits on your bed and makes a face of approval before patting the spot next to himself. “Unless you wanna sit on my lap.”

Starting to sit down next to Sunghoon, you almost fall on to the bed out of shock as your breath gets caught in your throat at his bold words. “What? No! I’m fine here.”

“I’m playing with you.” Poking at your side, Sunghoon smirks when you recoil from his teasing, but still a smile pulls at your pretty lips. “Have to lighten the mood somehow. You two are so uptight.”

With a shake of his head, Soobin rolls his eyes and pulls your desk chair out from under the table, turning it towards your bed with more force than necessary. He wished he had been just a bit quicker and less of a chicken shit when it came to you and sat on the bed instead of letting Sunghoon do it. “Just here to actually get something done, Sunghoon. It’s not a party; those happen at your frat house.”

Humming into a nod, Sunghoon leans back on your bed to rest on his elbows as you shift slightly near him to pick up your laptop, resting it on your thighs. “Sure isn’t a party, but speaking of. Y/N, you got plans this weekend? We are having a little get-together, and you should stop by.” Glancing towards Soobin quickly, almost dismissing him, Sunghoon sighs before giving you a tight smile and adding, “Soobin is invited too, of course.”

You tilt your head at your computer screen, glancing towards Sunghoon and then Soobin before trying to pay more attention to the document you had already started the night before for the group project. “Um, I—well, I don’t really party. I don’t even know what those parties are like—”

“Oh, you know... a quiet house that smells like febreeze or some shit, literally no crap in the way. Oh, and uh, everyone there will 100% be over 21, scouts honor.” Grinning at the look on your face, Sunghoon quickly puts up his hands and laughs at his own joke, adding, “Seriously, it’ll be fun and good for you. Let your hair down and shit.”

Wrinkling your nose at Sunghoon’s attempt to convince you, you bite at your bottom lip unknowingly, drawing his and Soobin’s attention to where your teeth pull at your soft lips. “I don’t—”

“I’ll go if you do, Y/N.”

Meeting Soobin’s eyes surprised, Sunghoon tilts his head as you do the same and smiles.

“Really? I—okay, I guess. I could come for an hour or two. Couldn’t hurt, right?”

Sunghoon realized in that moment he probably needed to thank Soobin for convincing you to go to the party, but at the same time you had only agreed if he was going. That didn’t bode well for him. Did you like Soobin? Did you like Soobin more than him? Pursing his lips, Sunghoon watches you turn your attention back to your laptop, your fingers moving smoothly over the keys as you start working on a project he’d barely given any thought to. “I promise it’ll be fun. Now, what are you working on?”

Adjusting on the bed so Sunghoon can see your laptop screen, you start to explain an idea you had about a law firm sharing your three names—Choi, Park, and Y/L/N—when you realize that Soobin is straining his next trying to see and pay attention. "Oh, um—maybe—Sunghoon? Could you scoot down? I think maybe if we lean back against the wall, we can all sit on the bed and use my laptop.”

Sitting up, Sunghoon shrugs as he lets out a long breath before doing as you asked and scooting down very slightly so you can do the same, finding yourself right against his side. You don’t see the smirk on his lips as his eyes move over your face while you watch Soobin move from your desk chair and to the other side of you, now snugly between the two.

“Is this okay? Or is it too close? I know my bed’s kinda small.”

When you start to wiggle, trying to give either man a bit more room, Soobin shakes his head and stretches his back against the wall you are all leaning against. “I’m comfortable, Y/N. Tell us about the law firm.” He didn’t want you to move, or for you or Sunghoon to make him move. He was enjoying the feeling of you warm against his side, your leg against his, your sweet perfume invading his senses.

It was difficult for either Sunghoon or Soobin to really pay attention to the work in front of them. There was nothing wrong with what you had suggested; it was as good as anything else anyone could come up with. The issue was you. It was difficult to think about some make-believe law firm when you have a pretty girl sighing with her body against yours. His mind starts to wander, and he finds himself imagining if her moans might sound as sweet and pretty as her sighs.

At least, that was where Soobin’s mind was. Sunghoon’s eyes were doing most of the wandering. You were so focused on your screen, your lips moving as you asked their opinion to change some idea only to get a nod of approval from each of them as Sunghoon took in every detail he could see. You were gorgeous. How hadn’t he tried to get with you yet? Probably because you didn’t come to the parties he did. You had other priorities—Sunghoon’s only priority now was to see the rest of you after trying to memorize every freckle, mole, and dimple on your exposed skin.

“We could talk about how one of our specialties is pro-bono work. Maybe Soobin?” Glancing up to get another opinion, you feel your cheeks burn when you find two sets of eyes watching you intently. You wait a few seconds before looking down and clearing your throat, realizing that neither is answering you, almost as if they were too distracted. “Soobin?”

Taking a deep breath of his own, Soobin finally meets your eyes before quickly looking at the screen in front of you to try to catch back up. “Sure, yeah… I’d be into that.”

“Cool.” Nodding, you tilt your head and add in a few more notes to the section, feeling Soobin’s eyes once again move over your face. “We can meet up and go more into depth with each section if you want. I think Sunghoon would take the business law section... I mean, you know, following in his father’s footsteps, blah blah blah.”

Your voice trails off as your finger moves over the trackpad. Sunghoon grins as you choose his “profession” in the law firm for him. “Blah, blah, blah... Sure, whatever you think, princess. And I can meet up at the party, or next week.”

The idea of talking about your project at a party where Sunghoon would undoubtedly be drunk or high makes your brows knit together as you look over at him. “I—we can’t do this at the party. That’s silly. I mean, if you wanna meet before the party and go over a few things, that I can do.”

Now you were saying shit that made sense. Sunghoon loved the idea of having you to himself for a bit. “Perfect. You can come over a couple of hours before and we can set this in stone; that sounds fair.”

Soobin wasn’t an idiot; he could almost see the wheels turning in Sunghoon’s head as the man’s eyes moved over your face and along your neck. He thought if he could get you alone, he might have a chance at getting laid—two could play that game. Soobin wasn’t sure where the desire—no, the need to beat Sunghoon—had originated, but he knew when it came to you, he had to win. “And we can meet up tomorrow; finish up my section.”

Suddenly your week and weekend had gotten packed. You were used to door-dashing food on a Friday and vegging out in your pajamas as you caught up on your work, but now you had to figure out how to look presentable for Choi Soobin.

“Okay…” Your voice is softer than you intend; you lean to pick up your phone from your nightstand, leaning over Soobin’s lap for a few seconds before you rest back in your spot. You don’t realize the effect you have on either of the men and how their eyes meet after both struggle to hold in groans watching your dress ride up your thighs. “So tomorrow, Soobin—maybe we can meet back here at like 7?” Sighing at your calendar, you click your tongue against your teeth and nod before continuing. “And Sunghoon, I can come a couple of hours early; does that work?”

Neither need much convincing after their shared glances, a rare understanding between them as they both mutter in agreement.

Taking a deep breath, Soobin stares at your dorm room door as he adjusts his bag on his shoulder, mostly out of nerves. He had just been here the day before, but it felt different being here alone with you. Not that he was even close to complaining; it would be nice to work with you—get to know you without Sunghoon looming over his shoulder or yours.

It was just before 7 o'clock, and you had been looking at your phone consistently for the past hour and a half to keep track of the time. Both Soobin and Sunghoon made you nervous; however, there was something about Soobin that you couldn’t quite shake.

Sunghoon was easy to understand. He was forward—too forward, at times, but at least you knew what was on his mind. Soobin, on the other hand, was quiet and reserved. You had felt your skin go hot as an oven under his eyes while you had sat next to him on the bed, and now you were going to be alone with him.

Knocking lightly, Soobin puffs up his cheeks and waits. All of his anxiety about seeing you melts away the moment his eyes move over your pretty face. The knot in his stomach that had told him earlier in the day to reschedule the study session releases, and he lets out the breath he had been holding and smiles at you.

“Hey. You loo—I mean—” Clearing his throat, Soobin’s eyes stay transfixed on you as a smile pulls at your lips and you step back, giving him room to move through the door. “I hope I’m not bothering you or anything.”

Shaking your head, you close your door as your brows furrow at Soobin’s words. He was so handsome and sweet it made your head spin. He confused you with how soft he seemed. It made you want to get to know him better—get to know the real Soobin.

“Why would you be bothering me? We planned this, Soobin.” Gesturing towards your bed, you sigh softly as Soobin sits down near where he had the day before, dropping his bag into the floor in front of him.

“No—yeah… I mean, I know. Just saying—I mean, I’m just trying not to be a—” Letting out a soft sigh on his breath, Soobin shakes his head before taking in a deeper breath to steady himself. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m glad we get to do this project together, Y/N.”

You pull your leg up under you so that you almost rest on your knees facing Soobin as you sit next to him. “I’m glad too. I—” Glancing down, you feel a wave of uncertainty rushing over you as your cheeks start to burn. You couldn’t help but feel shy under his gaze as you spoke, or tried to, your voice quiet. “I’m glad too. I kinda feel bad for you and Sunghoon being stuck with me. I know neither of you would probably pick me if you had a cho—”

“That’s crazy, Y/N. I’d pick you in a heartbeat.” Shaking his head, Soobin shifts on your bed, turning towards you, feeling a bit bolder as frustration runs through his veins at your words. “Why the hell would you even think that I wouldn’t? Fuck what Sunghoon thinks. I want to know why you think that I wouldn’t want you.”

Almost as if he’s realizing what he had said, seeing the look of surprise on your face—your eyes widening in slight confusion and shock—Soobin licks his lips and opens his mouth before closing it and taking a breath through his nose. He hadn’t meant it how it sounded—but perhaps he had; he didn’t want to scare you. “I mean… Uh—just… Of course I wanna do this project with you. It’s stupid to think I wouldn’t want—”

Even Soobin knew he was talking himself in circles as you tilted your head so innocently at him. He wasn’t Sunghoon. He hadn’t come here with the intention to flirt your pants off. He wasn’t some fuckboy asshole with an agenda.

Swallowing hard, Soobin lowers his eyes to his legs and then further towards his bag before reaching for it, unzipping it quickly, and taking out his laptop to try to change the subject. He could feel your eyes on him, and the heat, while overwhelming, was also making his jeans tighter. Settling the laptop on to his lap, Soobin shifts uncomfortably at the feeling of the pressure before puffing up his cheeks, still grateful to have something hiding his potential problem as he willed himself to calm the fuck down.

“So… I—I uh, tried to expand on what you said about the pro bono part of the practice and came up with a few things if you wanna take a look.”

Your eyes move along Soobin’s face, from his glasses to his perfect lips as his tongue darts along them to keep them from drying out from nerves and finally down towards his lap and to the screen now open for you. You could see how he was fidgeting—almost as if he was uncomfortable where he was sitting, the screen of the laptop moving very slightly as he sighs and scrolls down, letting you try to read over what he had come up with.

“It’s… Yeah—sounds good.”

“You sure? You don’t sound convinced." Soobin’s anxiety was peaking at the sound of your voice. He had royally fucked up. Now you were upset with him even when it came to the project, and he was going to spiral.

“No—I mean yes! Yes! It’s good. Soobin, it’s just—can you stop, like wiggling? I can’t read it when you are doing that. Can I see it? Let me hold it.” Reaching for his laptop, you furrow your brows at the quick, sharp breath Soobin takes before your hand slides over his on his lap.

“I—Y/N… Yes, you can, but!” Fuck. Feeling the laptop being pulled from his lap, Soobin closes his eyes when he hears you take a breath, and a small “oh” leaves your lips. Mortified—that is all that Soobin feels as he blindly reaches for one of your throw pillows, pulling it into his lap, still unable to bring himself to look at you.

If you had known what Soobin had been hiding with his laptop, you might not have just grabbed it—or at least you would have gone about it a different way. Grimacing as Soobin turns his head away from you, the pillow now over his lap, you start to speak but stop when you realize you aren’t sure what to say at first.

Now things that Soobin had said were sort of starting to make a bit more sense, and still not completely. Maybe he was just being a guy. Perhaps he was already having his... problem before he had even gotten to your room, and this had nothing to do with you, but you can’t stop yourself from glancing down at the pillow in Soobin’s lap one more time out of curiosity. What if it was because of you?

“Soobin?”

Leaning his head back when you say his name, Soobin groans under his breath. It was a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. Being around you, seeing so much of your skin on display, the words you had said so innocently that he had let his dirty mind twist... “Hmm?”

Closing Soobin’s laptop, you lean to put it on the floor out of harm's way before resting back on your knees, your eyes once again moving over the man beside you as he keeps his eyes on the ceiling as if trying to disappear. Maybe you could test your theory. Was Soobin into you, or was this just a fluke thing? There was no one else around... you had always been such a good girl at university; how bad could it be to help out someone who clearly needed help?

“Well, I was just—I thought... Do you want me to help you with that? You know if you like me like that?”

He had been doing halfway decent at getting himself calmed down. Soobin had been solving basic trigonometry problems in his head to get his cock to behave, but the moment you ask him if he wants help, all his hard work is out the window. Feeling his cock twitch in his boxers, Soobin bites at his cheek, slowly lowering his head and glancing over at you meeting your seemingly innocent eyes.

You were like a siren in the middle of the vast blue ocean, and he would swim to his death gladly. You had asked another stupid question, causing Soobin’s blood to boil, but the most he could manage at first was to scoff at you, making you recoil and pout, feeling rejected.

"Oh, I—no problem. Sorry I misread the situ—”

“Y/N, please.” Taking a deep breath, Soobin cuts you off again, knowing he has to stop you before you spiral this time. “You have no fucking idea how much I like you like that, or how much I like you in general.” Gripping the pillow tightly over his lap, Soobin groans a bit louder as he boldly lets his eyes move over your face and body this time. You were really the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and this had to be a fucking wet dream that he was going to wake up from at any moment. “But, are you serious? You wanna help me? I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just—god, you are just so cute, and you were looking at me like that. I couldn’t help it.”

Biting your bottom lip, you smile into a soft laugh as you feel warmth spread over your cheeks at Soobin’s words and compliments. You would have never expected to have such an effect on him. You’d never tell him now how many times you laid in bed right where he was sitting and thought about him as you played with the toys in your drawer. You wouldn’t have the guts to tell him just yet how at night you would think about him and wearing his glasses as he buried his—

“Shit—seriously. You gotta stop lookin’ at me like that. I’m gonna cum in my pants. You really have no idea what you look like.”

Soobin’s words bring you out of your daydream and back to reality as you let your eyes once again drop to the pillow in his lap. “What do I look like, Soobin?”

You weren’t trying to be particularly sexy. You weren’t even really sure how to. That wasn’t your “strong” point, but to Soobin, you didn’t have to try. Your innocence was doing it all. Your sweet voice with that layer of teasing was driving him insane as you reached for the pillow, moving it out of his lap and letting you see how hard he really was for you.

“Ah—fuck. Um… Just—it’s hard to... It’s hard to talk when you’re like this.” Leaning back on your bed to rest on his elbows, Soobin watches you closely as you shift closer to him, your fingers running along his thighs over his jeans. "But, uh, you look like you want me to fuck you. Like, uh, this want in your eyes. ‘Fuck me’ eyes, I guess.”

Rubbing your lips together, you carefully graze your fingertips over the bulge in Soobin’s jeans, feeling him thrust off the bed towards you. “Maybe I do want that.” Smiling, you tilt your head, your eyes following your fingers as you smoothly undo his jeans, feeling his stomach suck in under your light touch. “You know, one day. This isn’t a one-time thing, right?”

“God…no.” Shaking his head, Soobin licks his lips and claws at the comforter under him, feeling the drag of his zipper along his hard cock. “I hope not. Trust me, Y/N. I want you so fucking bad. Wanted you for—ah, wait!” Soobin’s voice becomes a whine when you pull away from him to sit back, his eyes widening as he follows you confused.

“I’m not leaving you. Why are you pouting at me, Binnie?” Standing beside the bed, you sway your hips side to side ever so slightly as you work your leggings down your legs, leaving you in your panties and t-shirt, causing Soobin’s mouth to go dry. “I’m just getting comfortable. You should too.”

Groaning your name under his breath, Soobin shakes his head as you use a nickname for him as you take off part of your clothes. Yes, he had seen your legs before when you had worn dresses or a skirt before, but this was different—it was so, so, fucking different. He could see the damp spot on the front of your panties; it was making his head spin.

Soobin quickly sits up and kicks off his jeans, feeling some relief from just a layer of clothes being off, but still his boxers felt sticky against his cock, leaking almost obscenely as you stood in front of him waiting. “You want these off too, pretty?” Trying out the pet name, Soobin watches the smile pull at your lips as you nod and move back to the end of your bed to sit on your knees again. “Okay… Yeah, I can do that.”

Nerves almost getting the better of him, Soobin digs his thumbs into the top of his boxers and pauses as he starts to lift his hips, hoping he will look good enough for you. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of how he looked, but you felt special to him. He wanted to be perfect for you and look exactly like who you wanted, but this was so sudden that he didn’t know anything about what you liked or wanted in bed.

You could see the apprehension in Soobin’s face, the way his brows furrowed when he paused. You hadn’t meant to pressure him, if that’s what he was feeling. “You okay? If you don’t wanna take them off, you don’t have to. I can help you with them on or, you know, we don’t have to—”

“I—woah, no, no! I want to. Just—nervous. What if you don’t like what you see?”

Shaking your head, you shift closer to Soobin on your hands and knees, not even thinking about how you would look to him or what effect it would have on him until he lets out a shaky breath on a groan. Glancing up at him, that same look in your eyes as before, you smile, sliding your hand over his thigh and tilting your head when it becomes clear to you how turned on he is seeing you like you are on the bed in front of him. “I’m gonna like it, Soobin. You are so handsome. I bet every single part of you is. So... can I see it?”

Eyes moving over your arched back down to your ass, Soobin shakes his head in disbelief, feeling your fingers walk slowly up his thigh towards his cock. You were either an angel or a demon; he hadn’t figured it out yet, but at the same time, Soobin wasn’t sure it mattered. He’d gladly give up his soul and die like this if it meant feeling your fingers sliding over his cock.

“Yeah, you can see it. It’s yours, pretty.” Speaking on an exhale, Soobin leans his head back as he relishes in the feeling of your hand molding to the outline of his cock through his boxers. It felt like heaven, and yet it wasn’t enough. He knew he wanted your skin on his. Lifting his hips, Soobin opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he pushes his boxers down and kicks them across the floors before leaning back against your pillows, finally stretching his legs out along your bed.

You know you should be a bit more subtle; slowly work your way down to looking at Soobin’s cock, but the moment he is laid out on your bed, it’s the first thing you do. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting. You had felt him through his boxers in your hand, and you had known he was on the bigger side, but seeing and feeling were different things. “Wow…”

“Wow?” While Soobin enjoyed you looking at him, he had expected a bit more than a single word. Lifting his hand from the bed, he nervously runs his fingers along your arm down to your wrist, wrapping his fingers around it as he lifts his brows. Finally meeting your eyes as you lift your head, he smiles at you and watches you glance away shyly at first. “What? Hey, no. Please? I’m half naked here.”

You knew it wasn’t fair, but you had one of the hottest guys at your school on your bed with his cock hard and out for you; now you were feeling like you might not be skilled enough to help him. “You’re big, Soobin. I’ve never—you know? Someone as big as you. I’m too nervous.”

Soobin hadn’t been sure that his ego could get as big as it did when you spoke, but his shoulders were suddenly tighter and his chest suddenly felt a bit firmer with how you were looking at him. “Yeah? I— fuck. I don’t… I could make it fi—” Shaking his head, not wanting to sound like a cocky asshole, afraid of sounding like Sunghoon on accident, Soobin slides his fingers along your forearm and back down to your hand, taking it into his. “We don’t have to do anything crazy. Just whatever you feel comfortable with, okay, beautiful?”

Your heart beats a bit harder at Soobin’s words and how sweet he is by not pressuring you into doing something that was too much too fast. As much as you might want him to fuck you or to try to fit your mouth around him, tonight just wasn’t that night—but that didn’t mean there weren’t other things you couldn’t do.

Nodding, you bite your lip as you shift on the bed to sit over Soobin’s thighs, hearing him suck in a breath when you do. “This okay?” Getting a nod from him, you smile before cautiously scooting forward and stopping short of his cock, letting it rest against your thigh, his pre-cum smearing along your soft skin. “Lean against the headboard? I wanna kiss you while I do this, if that’s okay.”

Soobin had never moved so fast in his life at the thought of kissing you. He had wanted to kiss you for months, if not a year or more. He had found himself staring at your lips and not paying attention in several classes more than once since he had first met you... and now it was becoming a reality.

Scratching your nails along his chest as you finally close the space between you and him, you can’t help the smile that finds your lips when he groans your name, feeling the warmth between your legs. His cock nudges between your legs, the tip firmly pressed against your cotton panties, and Soobin closes his eyes tightly and squeezes your thighs without thinking.

“Fuck… Please don’t tease me, baby.”

Soobin hadn’t meant to call you a pet name, but it had slipped off his tongue like sugar against your lips before the first kiss. You weren’t trying to tease him, but he felt so good right where he was. His lips, even brushing against yours, felt so good, but the first real kiss was enough to make you see stars.

Groaning into your mouth, Soobin slides his fingers along your thighs to your hips, where he squeezes again and pulls you closer to him as he rolls his hips towards yours. His tongue glides along yours before he swallows your soft, sweet moans to keep them for himself, knowing with each moan from your mouth he is leaking against your panties like a teenager, soaking through to your skin.

It’s when you do finally reach between your legs and wrap your fingers around Soobin’s cock, your smaller hand tightening around his shaft and stroking him from base to tip, that he throws his head back against your headboard, breaking the kiss. “Shit, that feels so good. I’m too worked up, baby. I won’t last if you—ah.”

You could tell from how Soobin was whining into his groans and the way he was short of breath that he was already close. Pre-cum was running along your fingers, making each stroke of your hand smooth as you rocked your hips towards his until you suddenly released your grip and met his eyes.

“Wh—why? Why are you teasing me? I was so close. Pretty girl, please!” The last plead from Soobin’s mouth is sharp, his usually deeper voice going up an octave as you sit back on his legs, wrapping your fingers back around his length and pressing his tip against the center of your panties before stroking him against your clothed, warm pussy.

“Why do you act like I’m punishing you, Binnie? Does this not feel good? What if I just wanted to feel a little bit?”

Eyes rolling back, Soobin bites his bottom lip as he thrusts up between your hand and panties, feeling the damp cotton under his sensitive cock. There aren’t many thoughts in his brain as he shakes his head and mutters your name, staring to lose himself in the feeling. He finds himself wishing, praying, and hoping to feel your pussy around his cock when he feels soft and warm skin pulling him back to reality.

Glancing down between your legs, Soobin only has seconds to watch his cock sliding between your folds, the tip of his cock rubbing your clit before he’s done for. Warm, sticky, white ropes paint your lower stomach and folds as Soobin pants through his climax, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to leave bruises.

“Shit, Soobin…” The words fall from your lips on a soft moan as your clit throbs, begging you for more, but you know that he’s done. You can feel Soobin’s cock start to soften in your hand as he whines your name, his fingers still kneading your thighs.

Searching your face, Soobin watches the pout start to form on your lips, your bottom lip jutting out just slightly as your hand loosens around him and you start to scoot back on your bed. It wasn’t fair. He felt great. You had taken him to heaven and back, yet he could see the disappointment written on your face. That just wouldn’t work for him.

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

Soobin’s compliment brings your attention back to him, your eyes meeting his as he licks his lips. Quickly your cheeks warm up, words getting caught in your throat as you try to think of the right thing to say—anything when you feel the tightness in your stomach from want though you don’t know or want to ask for something when you had only offered to help.

“Baby…” Whining the pet name, Soobin slides to his knees, his hands once again finding your hips as he helps you to the center of your bed. “Can I touch you? Make you feel good?” Letting his eyes move between your legs, Soobin groans at the sight of his cum on your stomach and the peek of it between your legs—how your pussy lips aren’t quite covered by your panties that are painted by him. He finds himself wanting to run his finger through it... Put it where it belongs—inside you. “Are you—mmm, this is a really personal question but probably important to ask, since we are in bed together. Are you on birth control?”

Your thighs tremble at Soobin’s touch, suddenly shy at his attention and his question. It was a valid and fair question, and yet how he asked it made you feel like you were burning up, as if you were right beside an open flame. Unable to find the words, you just nod quickly and suck on your bottom lip.

“Yes? To which question, pretty girl? I asked two.”

Closing your eyes, you whine Soobin’s name and lean your head back, causing him to laugh under his breath even as his fingers trail along your thighs. “Both of them. Please… I helped, right? I was good?”

The question makes Soobin furrow his brows, his throat suddenly dry as if sand were poured in his mouth instead of water. Why were you able to say something so simple and innocent and it sound so filthy? Why did you have this sort of effect on him? Pushing his mouth against his bicep, Soobin nods before moving one hand from your leg to push his glasses up his nose. “Very fucking good, baby. The best. Now let me be good for you.”

You want to tell Soobin that he is already good, but the words get lost on your tongue when his lips press to your knee as his fingers pull your ruined panties to the side and his other hand is free to explore. Mouth falling open in a silent moan, you try to watch carefully as Soobin’s fingers carefully push your sticky folds apart, giving him access to everything he wants.

“You got so messy with my cock..." Soobin was muttering, not even really speaking to you as he studied what was in front of him, his thumb circling your clit as he spread his cum along your skin. Finally meeting your eyes again, Soobin swallows hard watching you lick your lips, your chest rising and falling hard and fast with each panting moan. “Can I fuck you with my fingers? That okay?”

Clinging to the bedding, you nod hard, wanting to feel more of Soobin’s touch. You weren’t blind, and you knew he probably wasn’t either. You had been staring at his hands. His hands were big, his fingers thick, and the idea of Soobin just touching you had you leaking and mewing like a cat in heat. “Yeah, Binnie. Want it, please?”

You wanted it. That was even better than him asking for permission—hearing you beg for it. Smiling against your leg, Soobin nods as he slowly drags more of his cum down before slowly easing the first finger into you. He had cum, and yet feeling you clench around his finger had Soobin’s cock throbbing against his leg. He could lie to himself and you and say that he was using the cum on your skin as lube to fuck you on his fingers, but in reality you were so wet he didn’t need it—it was an added bonus being able to know that he was inside of you.

“Doin’ so good, beautiful. Gonna add another one; you can take it.” Nodding along with you, Soobin grins when you cry out his name on a moan when he pushes a second finger in to your pussy alongside the first. Your warm, soft walls hug his fingers and pull them in as if you are trying to fuck yourself, too eager to wait for Soobin to do it. “Like that? Feel good?”

It was almost a stupid question, but you nod anyway and mutter out a yes and pleas for more. It was almost too easy for Soobin to get you drunk on him and dumb with just his fingers. You could already feel the coil inside of you winding so tight that it was threatening to snap. Each brush of his fingers and every deep thrust as his thumb circled your clit, and muttered praises pushed you to the edge.

“Good fucking girl, yeah? My girl?”

Soobin knew that was crazy asking you that, making you admit to being his, but when you nod and repeat the words back to him, it makes his head spin. You might not even mean it; most people didn’t mean what they said during sex, but that was okay. Right now, it didn’t matter if you meant it; he would replay it on a loop for the rest of his life, just like he would never forget the feeling of you cumming on his fingers.

“Soobin! Yes, yes! Ah… right there!”

Thighs shaking, tightening around Soobin’s arm, you throw your head back as your orgasm rips through your body, leaving you breathless and spent on your bed. Fingers brush over your cheeks, soft lips meet yours, and you find it impossible not to smile as you return the sweet kiss, feeling Soobin’s arm wrap around you. There was a lot left unsaid. Much of your project was left undone, but you were enjoying the moment as you threw caution to the wind.

Soobin, on the other hand, was letting his mind run in circles as he held you against him. He wanted this. Not just the sex, but this. He wanted you. He wanted you to say you were his and mean it. But how in the fuck was he supposed to say that when he had just now gotten the courage to talk to you during a stupid ass group project?

It could wait. Nothing could possibly happen, right? He just needed a little more time to get his shit together.

Sunghoon had been waiting for something, anything from you or Soobin about what the two of you had gotten done the day before for the project, but yet his inbox was looking bare. Maybe the two of you had decided he wasn’t privy to that information. It wouldn’t surprise him if Choi Soobin decided to pull some shit like that, but you? Nah, you wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t allow it. Would you?

Sipping on the same beer he had been nursing for an hour, Sunghoon narrows his eyes at the clock on his phone as he bounces his leg along with the music from the next room. Most of the other members of his frat were already pre-gaming, actually enjoying their afternoon, and he was sitting here with a half-stale beer waiting on you.

It shouldn’t piss Sunghoon off as much as it does, but he doesn’t do shit like this for girls. Not for school... not for any reason. Chicks are chicks, and that’s it, so why do you have him sober while Jake Sim was already throwing up in the sink?

He was about to give in and get something stronger than his beer when your name caught his attention on his phone.

Y/N😇: Do I just come in? Should I knock? People are just going inside, but I feel weird. Doesn’t the party start at like 11?

God, you were so cute; it was killing Sunghoon. You rambled even over text. Sliding off the sofa, Sunghoon pockets his cellphone and pushes past a few of the early comers to open the front door and see you looking around like a lost puppy.

Devastating. You were devastating him. Fuck, he was screwed.

“Princess, get your cute ass in the house. Have you never been to a frat party before?”

Eyes widening, you hold the strap of your bag tighter to your shoulder as you turn to meet Sunghoon’s eyes after hearing his voice. It was a valid question, and yet it made you feel small and insecure. Sunghoon wasn’t like you. He was cool and super rich. Everyone wanted him or to be him. You weren’t much different than them supposed, but you were also the one he was calling princess.

“Oh… I—no. Not really. I—”

Scooting to the side as a girl shoots you a dirty look, her attention turning immediately towards Sunghoon, you look away as she coos at him making her way into the house. “Sunghoon! Oh my god, you look so fucking good. Do you wanna, like, you know, chill before—”

This was what Sunghoon had gotten used to. Maybe that was narcissistic of him to expect it, but he was used to girls throwing themselves at him. Yeah, he had accepted a few offers. He had a reputation, but he liked to have fun. He knew at the end of the day none of these girls mattered. They saw status and dollar signs. He saw tits and a distraction, but when he looked at you, he saw something else—frustration and desire.

Shaking his head and sidestepping to get away from the pretty girl and her advances, Sunghoon sighs, giving her a half glance. “Nah. I have shit to do.” When you don’t move, making no effort to meet his eyes again, Sunghoon rolls his eyes, moving down the steps to grab your hand, much to the dismay of the girl as you are ushered inside the house past her. “I told you to come inside, baby.”

“Sunghoon…” Your voice is quiet, almost embarrassed, as you meet the eyes of the girl he had turned down when she hears him call you baby. You can feel the daggers come from her eyes and meet your skin until you are finally out of her sight and heading up the stairs away from the music. “Sunghoon.” Saying his name again, you tug back on his hand at the top of the stairs, landing finally managing to get him to look back at you. “There is so much going on downstairs. Aren’t you going to miss it by doing this with me? I’m not nearly as much fun as that. You don’t have to preten–”

“God, Y/N, shut the hell up already. I said we can work on the project today, and we can.” Pushing his bedroom door open, Sunghoon ushers you inside as your cheeks burn from his words. Watching you move slowly into the room, he narrows his eyes and sighs before running his fingers through his hair. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

Tears prick at your eyes as you walk towards one of the beds in the room, sitting your bag down on it as Sunghoon moves closer behind you. You weren’t sure what you had done to him to make him be so mean to you, but his words were making your stomach twist up in a knotted mess of anxiety and low self-confidence.

Hearing you sniff under your breath, Sunghoon closes his eyes and leans his head back, knowing he upset you. It hadn’t really been his intention. He wasn’t great with words. He just said what was on his mind, and you were annoying him. He just hadn’t clarified why. “Fuck, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I—listen, okay?” Hands slide over your arms as Sunghoon slowly turns you towards him, his eyes moving over your face carefully. “What I mean is that you aren’t like the other girls. You make me chase you. I don’t chase girls, Y/N.”

You could understand every word that Sunghoon was saying, and yet nothing he was saying made any sense to you. Shaking your head, you sniff back your tears and lift your shoulders, causing Sunghoon to groan in annoyance before he cups your face with both of his hands leaning in to press his lips to yours.

Every cell in your body misfires at the feeling. Your mind screams for you to run. You quickly think of every rumor you have heard about Sunghoon. You picture every heartbroken girl crying over him as he smirks with his friends the very same day, and yet as he kisses you, his tongue gently gliding along your bottom lip, you start to melt into him. You shouldn’t enjoy feeling Sunghoon’s lips on yours, but you do. You whine into the kiss, and Sunghoon’s brows furrow as his entire body reacts to the sweet sound.

“Holy shit. You sound so pretty, Angel. Do that again for me?”

Sunghoon was different than Soobin. Every touch was precise and calculated. Each step, while not planned, led you right where Sunghoon knew he wanted you. Knees hitting the end of his bed, causing you to fall backwards with another whine, your back hitting the bed, eyes wide as you look up at Sunghoon.

Leaning over you to pick up your bag, Sunghoon moves it to the floor before laying over you and putting his lips back on yours. This hadn’t been the plan. He really was planning on being true to his word and working on the project with you, but then you just had to be so fucking cute and so goddamn frustrating, and now Sunghoon was throwing himself at you.

One hand sliding along your side to your hip, Sunghoon breaks the kiss to meet your eyes with a question hanging in the hair as his fingers play with the end of your dress on your thigh. He would let you say no, but god, he hoped you wouldn’t. He was being pathetic; he could feel his cock throbbing in his pants. The moment you whine his name again and nod, Sunghoon is groaning your name and sliding down in the bed to push your dress up to your stomach.

“You are so cute, princess. Always dressed so pretty.” Shaking his head, Sunghoon traces your bellybutton with his pinky, watching you suck in your stomach on a deep breath, causing his lips to pull up in a smirk. “Won’t lie, recently I’ve been telling myself you’ve been dressing like this for me... Even if I know it’s probably not.”

Carefully pushing the tips of his fingers into the elastic of your panties, Sunghoon lifts his brows in a question again before tilting his head and licking his lips. “Can I? Wanna taste you so fuckin’ bad. Been dreaming about it for days.”

His words have you breathless; you feel almost faint as you nod and lift your hips, letting Sunghoon work your panties down your thighs and off your legs. He had been dreaming about you. More specifically, Park fucking Sunghoon, the wet dream of 90% of all of the girls at your university, had been dreaming about eating you out? There had to be a glitch in the matrix. This couldn’t be happening. You had just spent an evening with Soobin, and now—Sunghoon?

You don’t get much time to process when Sunghoon’s warm, wet tongue runs from your dripping entrance to your already throbbing clit in one smooth motion. Clinging to the comforter, you gasp Sunghoon’s name, closing your thighs around his head, feeling him chuckle against your folds as his hands wrap around your thighs, working them back apart over his shoulders.

There was a reason for many of the rumors that Sunghoon was involved in; most of them had a layer of truth to them. It wasn’t Sunghoon’s fault that he was good in bed or that he loved to eat pussy. There was nothing like listening to a girl squeal his name as he drove her crazy with his tongue alone, but you were something special. No one tasted or felt like you. You were driving him crazy. There was enjoying eating a girl out, and then there was enjoying eating you out. This was heaven.

“Fuck…” Drawing the word out as he runs his fingers over your soft folds, Sunghoon groans, resisting the urge to push his hips against his mattress as he watches your arousal begin to drip and mix with his saliva. Unable to stop himself, Sunghoon uses his thumbs to spread your folds and buries his faces between your legs, hungrily lapping at you like you’re oozing nectar that will sustain him for weeks.

Any coherent thought you once had was gone. Between Sunghoon’s tongue and the groans he was letting out between your legs, you were dumbstruck. Your thighs had already begun to quiver, your stomach tight as your orgasm hung right on the precipice with each drag over Sunghoon’s devious tongue, but it isn’t until he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks that you lose a battle you weren’t really trying to win.

“Cumming…ah! Sunghoon!” In your mind, somewhere buried deep down under the pleasure, you could feel the shame wash over you at the same time as you wonder if you were another notch on the bedpost under your hand, but the kisses to your thigh and the sweet praises bring you back to reality.

“Taste so good. Best fuckin’ girl. Not letting you go, swear to god.” Sunghoon was pussy drunk; he knew it and he knew that you probably knew it, but that didn’t mean the words he was muttering against your skin weren’t real. He loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair as he licked your cum from his lips, and what Sunghoon loved even more was seeing the fucked-out look on your face, knowing he caused it. “You are so goddamn pretty. No one deserves you; do you know that?”

He was full of pretty words as he moved up in the bed to lay over you, his lips once against pressing to yours before moving along your jaw and neck. You weren’t sure he was telling you the truth. You wanted someone to deserve you. You weren’t sure if that person was him or Soobin, but... someone.

Furrowing your brows, you shift in bed, wanting to return the favor. Sliding your hand over Sunghoon’s jeans, you feel him push towards your hand, a soft groan slipping from his lips.

“You don’t have to do that, Angel, but fuck... I’m so fucking hard.”

He didn’t have to tell you that. You could feel how hard he was even through his jeans, and you knew you didn’t have to do anything; it was more that you wanted to. You knew something like this could distract you from thinking too hard. This was fun. It was easy. Thinking was too hard.

Pushing Sunghoon to his back on the bed, you smile shyly, moving to your knees beside him. You feel his eyes on you as you slowly undo his jeans and let him help you push them down with his boxers, letting his cock rest back against his stomach, leaking heavily.

He was a bit smaller than Soobin—of course you would never tell Sunghoon that, but despite the small size difference, it didn’t mean that his cock wasn’t just as pretty and enticing. You had found yourself taking control with Soobin, but in Sunghoon’s bed you were docile and nervous. You found yourself wanting to prove that you were good enough to be in his bed.

“It’s yours, baby girl. Whatever you wanna do with it—ah, fuck!” Sunghoon was a talker in bed. He might not be good at words that mattered, but he could dirty talk. Only your mouth around his cock could silence him. Hissing as his stomach tightens, feeling you hollow your cheeks as you take in more of his length, Sunghoon curses under his breath.

Normally he could handle getting head. Most girls weren’t that great at it if he were honest, and usually he wasn’t. He’d tell them how good their mouth was, that they did a good job, and he’d cum on their lips or wherever they wanted as he jerked himself off, but you—god, he didn’t have to lie to you. Instead, Sunghoon was digging his fingers into his bedding, forcing himself not to cum down your throat after thirty seconds of his cock being in your mouth.

“So fucking good. Oh, shit. Just—slow down. Baby!” Throwing his head back, eyes rolling back as you let his tip brush the back of your throat, Sunghoon smacks the bed under his hand, pushing his feet into the mattress. You were sucking the soul out of him and not leaving a drop. If this was how Sunghoon was going to die, it was worth it. “Gonna—ah, fuck. It’s too—cumming!”

Furrowing your brows, you close your eyes tighter when Sunghoon cums in your mouth even after warning you. The salty, sour taste hits your tongue, and rather than letting it linger in your mouth as you pull back, sucking one last time to make sure you have every last drop, you swallow.

Sunghoon stares at you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath when you sit back on your knees to wipe your lips clean of his cum. He was seeing double, and you literally looked like you were glowing, a halo around you like a real fucking angel.

“You tried to murder me.” Licking his lips, Sunghoon moves one of his arms over his head to rest his head on his forearm as his eyes start to focus more. He watches the small smile form on your lips—how shy and sweet you look even as you search for your panties on the floor, reaching down to pick them up and pulling them back on. “Are you leaving me? We still have a project to work on, and I thought I had a date to the party.”

Opening and closing your mouth a few times, you swallow hard, finally meeting Sunghoon’s eyes as he relaxes half naked on his bed as if this is a normal Friday night, which you realize it might be; the shame slipping back in your mind causes you to look away and down at the floor. “Um, I—it’s—you know... Your party starts in like an hour now and I’m not much of a partier—”

“Y/N… seriously? What did I do wrong?” Sitting up, Sunghoon reaches for his own clothes, pulling them back on before scooting closer to you. When you still won’t look at him, shrugging and adjusting your dress over your lap, he gently cups your chin and guides your head back towards him to make you look at him. “Do you regret what happened? Should I apologize? I just—I thought you wanted me too, and I like you, so…”

Shaking your head, you sigh and let it out on an exasperated breath, pulling away from Sunghoon. You can’t help but think he’s said this exact thing to every other girl he’s ever fucked in his bed. “I don’t know, kinda... maybe? I’m just—I’m like, what? The flavor of the week? You’ll get bored and move on? It doesn’t feel good, Sunghoon.” As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you feel a different kind of shame wash over you, Soobin’s face in your mind as you realize you’ve done something similar to both of them. “Sorry, that’s not fair. You don’t owe me anything. Neither of you…”

Furrowing his brows at your words, especially the last, as your volume drops almost to a whisper, Sunghoon shifts closer to you and turns you towards him with both hands on your shoulders. “Could you fucking just talk to me? Not just assume shit? You aren’t the goddamn flavor of the week." Tilting his head, Sunghoon glances towards the sound of the party picking up downstairs as he licks his lips, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Wha—what do you mean, neither of you?”

Sunghoon’s eyes follow your eyes as you look away, avoiding his eyes. He knew that look; he had given it to other people, but he hadn’t been on the receiving end before. There was someone else besides him. Who else were you hooking up with? As soon as he asks the question in his head, the answer comes to him. There is only one answer. Soobin.

Nodding as if you had answered him yourself, Sunghoon chews at his cheek, sliding his hands along your arms, comforting you as he thinks of what to say or do, weighing his options. He could be mad. He could lash out at you for not telling him before the two of you did something, but you didn’t owe that to him. How serious were you and Soobin? From how you were acting and from what had happened between you and him, Sunghoon had to assume not very serious. So then that was something else to consider. He could ask you to tell Soobin to fuck off, or he could tell Soobin himself... But looking at your pretty face, Sunghoon could see the conflict written all over it. You liked Soobin. You liked him. You didn’t know what you wanted.

“Does he know?”

Shaking your head no, you blink back your tears, causing Sunghoon to move closer to you when he notices them. “Hey… none of that. Why are you crying? I’m not mad at you, baby.”

“I’m so shitty, Sunghoon. I—who does this? I like you.”

Nodding, Sunghoon sighs before pressing a kiss to your forehead as tears roll down your cheeks. “You aren’t shitty. It’s a shitty situation, but I’m not gonna flip my shit. Listen, I—he—” Sighing, Sunghoon groans at his own thoughts before leaning his head back in disbelief that he’s the one suggesting it. “Soobin is coming to the party tonight, right? Talk to him. We can talk it out and see what happens. Cool?”

He made it seem so easy, like they would just shake hands and choose a winner, like you were a prize. Blinking tears from your eyes, you shrug watching Sunghoon shake his head, his thumbs sliding over your cheeks to wipe away your tears. He wasn’t the pretentious fuckboy asshole everyone made him out to be after all.

“It’s worth trying, baby. I’m willing to see where it goes... for you.”

Sighing into the red solo cup in his hand, Soobin glances around the room, looking for a way out. He hadn’t seen you, and ironically, he hadn’t even seen Sunghoon. It wasn’t like he didn’t know anyone at the party, but this wasn’t his scene. The music was loud, smoke was making his nose feel funny, and he didn’t even like beer that much.

Soobin wasn’t sure why he had even agreed to this. You had probably ditched on it. He didn’t blame you if you had, but Sunghoon? It was his frat house. Surely he was around here somewhere.

Glancing towards the stairs, Soobin furrows his brows as he quickly glances away from a couple making out against the wall. That was probably the answer. Sunghoon probably had some poor, pathetic girl trapped in his bed already. Rolling his eyes, Soobin takes a big sip of his drink, starting to turn towards the front of the house when his eyes lock on to you and his stomach tightens with nerves. You were so fucking pretty. God, of course you always were... but it felt different now. You were like a beacon, so bright that it took a few seconds before it dawned on him that Sunghoon was standing behind you with his hand on your hip whispering in your ear.

It wasn’t fair for Soobin to be upset or jealous. It made sense that you were with Sunghoon. That had been the plan; you were going to meet up with him before the party and work on the project. So why was it making it hard to breathe seeing his hand on you like that? Why did it feel like you were slipping from his fingers and into Park Sunghoon’s arms?

Soobin downs the rest of his drink, making a sour face as he clenches his fist around the cup, and it crushes easily in his hand. He could give up, walk away, and find the door, but meeting your eyes and seeing the pretty smile on your face has him stuck where he is. There was no world where you were going to smile at him like that; he didn’t at least have a chance.

Glancing back at Sunghoon, you watch his brows lift in question before he nods his head towards Soobin as he leans down to speak next to your ear over the music. “He looks annoyed, but when isn’t he? I’ll be around; come find me in a bit.” Nodding, you slide your fingers over his on your hip, meeting Soobin’s eyes with a smile on your face.

“Hey.” You try to talk over the music, but your voice still sounds too small for the space that you are in, even as you move closer to Soobin. “I was—I hoped to find you. You know—that you’d come, you know, here—to the party.”

Furrowing his brows, Soobin still can’t stop how his lips pull up in a small smile hearing your voice even under the bass of the music. Leaning in a bit closer to you, he glancing behind you, trying to find Sunghoon, but is pleased not to see him lingering. “Well, I promised I would so—”

“You wanna maybe find somewhere quiet—” The words get cut off by a gasp when you feel your body being pushed towards Soobin’s as someone accidentally knocks into you. Lukewarm beer soaks into the front of your dress, drawing your eyes down to the wet stain starting to spread across your stomach. “Fuck…”

Soobin had started to nod along with your suggestion. He knew how the sentence ended; you wanted to find somewhere quieter to talk, or maybe something else, but then you had landed in his arms. Letting his eyes follow the girl who had bumped into you seemingly on accident, Soobin frowns when he sees her look back at you and laugh with her friends. It hadn’t been as much of an accident as it had seemed. This was why Soobin hated these sorts of parties. People who came to these things were all assholes. The people who threw these parties were even bigger assholes.

Taking the cup from your hand, he sighs under his breath as you pout down at your dress, stepping back to assess the damage. You would need to change, and you could feel your cheeks heating up even though no one was really paying that much attention to you; it felt like everyone’s eyes were on you.

Linking his fingers with yours, Soobin looks for a way out when you tug at his hand, pulling him towards the stairs. That would work. He wasn’t sure what you had in mind, but as long as he was with you, he didn’t care.

"Man, fuck off. You are too good at this.” Smirking at Heeseung’s complaint as he sinks another ping pong ball into a cup, Sunghoon’s attention is suddenly taken from the table in front of him and towards you as you guide Soobin up the steps. That hadn’t been discussed. He couldn’t help the lump that was forming in his throat at being left out. Tossing Heeseung the last ball in his hand, Sunghoon ignores his roommates questioning looks as he makes his way through the sea of people to follow you.

“Y/N, you okay?” Soobin could actually hear himself think on the second floor. The music was still loud, but at least the bass was at a dull thud instead of threatening to bust his eardrum.

Wiping your hand over the front of your dress, you lean back against the wall next to Sunghoon’s bedroom door, letting out a sigh. This wasn’t going how you had planned. You were starting to get a headache, and you smelled like stale beer. There was so much you wanted to say to Soobin as he looked at you with those big, puppy dog eyes... And now it was harder; the guilt was starting to wash over you again.

“I’m fine. It’s just a dress. I—Soobin…”

Furrowing his brows at your hesitation, Soobin takes a step towards you, resting his hand on your waist. He could feel the tension in the air. Something had changed, and now he felt like he had to do something, anything, to keep things in his favor. “What? Why do you look sad? Can’t stand it. What’s wrong, baby?”

Your hands move to hold Soobin’s biceps when he moves closer, pressing his body against yours. You know you should tell him to wait, to just stop until the two of you have really talked, but then he calls you baby, and all your hesitation melts away. Brushing your lips against his, you whimper Soobin’s name, feeling his knee slide between your legs, pinning you to the wall in the middle of the hall.

“You’re just needy? Maybe you missed me?”

Where had this Soobin come from? Meeting his eyes, you whine out a yes against his lips that barely rest over yours. There was something in his eyes that was different. His gaze was locked on you, intense—possessive, as his thigh pressed against you.

“In the middle of the hallway? And I didn’t even get an invite?”

Sunghoon’s voice brings you and Soobin out of your lust-filled haze and back to reality. You glance at him over Soobin’s shoulder, a small smile on your face. Soobin, on the other hand, clinches his teeth and lowers his head, feeling annoyance rush through him. “Of fucking course he’d show up.”

This had been one of the reasons you had wanted to talk to Soobin in the first place. This was your fault for not saying anything before things started to get out of hand with Soobin, but it was crazy how much both of them affected you. Sliding your hands along Soobin’s chest, you shake your head and meet his eyes as he tilts his head, obviously confused. “Don’t be like that, okay? I—see, I need to talk to you about something. Things happened, Binnie…”

Licking his lips, Soobin glances from you to Sunghoon over his shoulder before sighing out his words. “What things?”

“Things that maybe we can talk about in my room?”

Sunghoon was right. You had gotten caught up in the moment, but now that you were more aware of your surroundings, you could feel the embarrassment washing over you from how many people were walking through the hall to get to other rooms. Taking Soobin’s hand, you gesture with your head towards the door, hearing him sigh one more time before he gives in. Opening the door, he let’s Sunghoon follow behind, locking it.

“So, now does someone wanna fill me in on what I’m clearly missing?”

You could almost feel the frustration and hesitation radiating off of Soobin as his fingers trailed from yours. Following him with your eyes first, you pout at Sunghoon before moving towards Soobin, your fingers fidgeting with the end of your dress at your thigh. “I don’t want you to be mad at me or at Sunghoon—”

“Y/N, just tell me what the fuck happened.”

Slightly taken back by the tone of Soobin’s voice, you drop your dress from your fingers and sigh, lifting your hands and dropping them back at your sides. It wasn’t like you were dating either one of them. You hadn’t committed yourself to either one. You hadn’t done anything wrong.

“We did stuff, you know, like... together.” You weren’t really sure how to explain it. It wasn’t like you had fucked Sunghoon. You hadn’t fucked Soobin either, but either one could have ended up that way. “I—I like you, Soobin.”

Tilting his head at the second part of your explanation, Soobin’s mouth opens and then closes. He was a bit confused. You and Sunghoon had “done stuff together." What, like you had done stuff with him? Now you were telling him that you liked him? It felt like Soobin was on a rollercoaster, and he had just hit the top of a drop only to get stuck with that feeling of his stomach in his throat. “Explain that to me, Y/N, ‘cause... I don’t get it.”

Rolling his head, Sunghoon leans his head back, resting against his desk, as Soobin makes you explain yourself. It wasn’t that hard; he had figured it out so surely Soobin could do the same. “Seriously, dude? Put two and two toget—”

“Stay the fuck out of it, Sunghoon. I’m not talking to you yet.” Soobin hadn’t meant to sound as pissed as he did when he snapped at Sunghoon, but he was confused, and it wasn’t as easy as he was trying to make it out to be. At least it wasn’t to Soobin.

Holding his hands up, Sunghoon gives Soobin an impressed look before crossing his arms and shutting his mouth.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, you know." Your voice had gotten small. The sound of it made both Soobin and Sunghoon’s stomach’s tighten; the urge to move to you and to make you feel better is strong, but both stayed where they were and let you speak. “I do like you. I like you both. I know that’s weird and it’s stupid. I have to figure it out... I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I’m not like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Shaking your head, you furrow your brows, glancing towards the door, your voice once again dropping in volume. “I should just go home and leave you guys alone.”

Watching you start to turn towards the door, your feet moving in that direction with that sad look on your face has Soobin headed towards you faster than he realized he could even move. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he pulls you back against his chest and rests his lips against your head, taking a deep breath of you unwilling to let you just go. “Stop it. I’m not—it’s not ideal, no, but I’m not mad. It’s confusing, yes, but I’m willing to figure it out with you.”

You close your eyes to the feeling of Soobin’s warm breath against you, his fingers pressing against your wet dress over your stomach as he keeps you against him. “And with Sunghoon?”

Groaning under his breath, Soobin glances towards the other man before wrapping his other arm around you and walking backwards towards the unmade bed sitting on it so you can rest on his lap. “Fuck, I guess so. Whatever this fucking means, I’ll figure out how to make it work.”

“You make it sound like I’m a bad date.” Pushing away from the desk, Sunghoon smirks at you and Soobin once he gets closer. “And for the record, I already said I’d make it work. I’m pretty good at sharing. Seems like I’m better at it than you, Soobin.”

Shaking his head, Soobin presses his lips to your neck, unable to stop himself when he hears you finally laugh, even if its at Sunghoon’s stupid attempt at a joke. He loved that sound—the sound of you happy. Happy looked good on you, and if he had his way, that’s how you’d always look. None of that pout on your lips like you had been just a few minutes ago. That shit had broken his heart and made him want to climb mountains to fix shit for you.

“Shut up, Sunghoon. You talk too fucking much.” Smiling against your neck, Soobin tests the waters by sliding his hands along your hips and down to your legs, feeling them part at his touch. “I can share... a bit, if that’s what you want me to do, pretty girl.”

Nodding, you slide your hands over Soobin’s, guiding them along your thighs and pushing your dress up as you turn your head towards his, capturing his lips between words. “Uh huh, share me, please?”

“Greedy little angel. One just isn’t enough?” Grinning at your shy reaction and how you tuck your face against Soobin’s neck, shaking your head no to answer his question, Sunghoon runs his fingers along your warm cheek. “That’s okay, baby, but I wanna know something. You never told me. What did you and Soobin do without me? ‘Cause I’m sure he wants to know what you and I did when we played earlier.”

That had Soobin’s attention. As jealous as he was that Sunghoon had touched you somehow, he was trying to give into it and make it work as you rocked your hips over his hardening cock. He was very curious what you and Sunghoon had been up to and why you were whining Sunghoon’s name as he chuckled your name in return, urging you to spill the details.

“Go on, baby girl. It’s a safe space with us, right, Soobin? We won’t judge our baby.”

Helping you spread your legs over his, Soobin nods along with Sunghoon’s words before trailing his fingers along your soft thighs. “I won’t judge you. Go ahead, sweetheart, tell him. I wanna know too.”

Shivering to Soobin’s light touch, you arch your back, managing to roll your hips down over Soobin’s lap once again, granting yourself a deep groan against your ear. “I—mmm, fuck. Soobin and I—we... I used my hand.” Whining softly, you meet Sunghoon’s eyes as he bites his lips, nodding for you to continue. “And against my—” Stopping short out of embarrassment, you glance back to Soobin, who smiles softly at you, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours.

“You teased me with your pussy, didn’t you, pretty? Got me so close but didn’t let me put my cock inside of you.” Soobin smiles against your lips when you shake your head, whining in protest that you weren’t teasing him. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t lie to us. You aren’t a fucking liar, Y/N. You’re a real slut when you really want it, and that’s okay, baby, ‘cause why?”

Stealing a kiss from Soobin, you lean your head back, moaning softly to the feeling of his lips against your throat and his fingers barely brushing over the center of your panties. “You touched me. You helped me too. Ah, Binnie… please? Do it again? Put them in?”

“That what he did? Binnie? Did Binnie fuck you with his fingers, princess?” Lifting his brow when you finally give him some attention, Sunghoon smirks at you, letting his eyes drop to Soobin’s fingers, brushing over the wet spot growing on your panties. “You give him a cute name, and yet while you were in my bed, I didn’t get any of that shit. I’m hurt—”

“No, ‘m sorry, I didn’t know if you’d like it. Hoonie?” Pouting at Sunghoon, you watch his smirk only get wider at the shortening of his name, his hand squeezing lightly over his obviously hard cock through his jeans as he watches Soobin finally pull your panties to the side.

“I do like it, baby. Now tell Soobin about our playtime together while you drip on his fingers.” Scoffing, Sunghoon runs his free hand over his mouth, realizing what he is saying and how lucky he is to be in this room with you and even Soobin. Nothing was going to compare to this. He was harder than he had ever been in his entire life, and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to touch you yet. It was almost enough watching another man’s fingers slide through your soft pussy lips and your thighs jerk in reaction.

“Yeah, okay. Ah!” Biting your lips, you nod, trying to focus as Soobin’s middle finger circles your clit slowly. “Hoonie ate me out, felt really good.”

Lifting his head towards Sunghoon, Soobin lifts his brow and rolls his eyes openly as Sunghoon grins at him. “Yeah? He made you feel good? He better. Did he make you cum with just his tongue, pretty girl?”

Trying to remember, you lean your head back on Soobin’s shoulder as you nod once again, pushing down towards his hand. “Mmhm, yeah. He’s good, his mouth. Oh my god, Binnie, more?”

“When I’m ready, little slut.” Soobin’s sweet voice against your ear sends shivers down your spine as his finger circles your wet hole. “What did you do for Hoonie since he was so good for you, hm?”

Grabbing Soobin’s forearm, you feel tears gathering on the rims of your eyes as he barely pushes his finger inside of you, rocking his finger back and forth patiently waiting for your answer. When the tears roll down your cheeks, Sunghoon tilts his head, taking another step towards you to push them away gently, making sure you are okay.

“He—oh… Uh, I—I sucked his cock, right? I did okay?” Meeting Sunghoon’s eyes, you find him smiling at you, his fingers lingering on your jaw when you finally speak up.

“Better than okay, angel. Never had someone go down on me like that before. The things your mouth can do…”

Soobin could feel the jealousy rising in him once again. Yes, he had gotten time with you; he had felt your skin against his, your pussy against his cock, his fingers inside of you like he was now, but Sunghoon had felt something different. Taking a breath to steady himself, Soobin nods against the side of your head. He breathes in the scent of your perfume and body wash, letting it wash over him and calm him down. He had promised to try to share.

Pushing his finger into you deeply, Soobin feels your body react, how your walls clench around him and how you try to roll your hips over even just a single finger to get more. “You got all of that today and you still want more? You’re still fucking yourself on my finger? What else do you want, huh? My cock?” Meeting Sunghoon’s eyes, Soobin almost challenges him before he smirks and sighs against your ear giving in. “Sunghoon’s cock?”

“Yes, yes... please? I need more. I’ve been so good for both of you, haven’t I?”

Sunghoon couldn’t argue against that and the look on Soobin’s face told him that he couldn’t either. Though Soobin was a bit less enthused with how this was starting and he was still getting the girl, there was some poetic justice buried deep in this tangled mess.

“Course you have, baby, but you gonna let me taste you? I don’t think it’s very fucking fair I haven’t gotten to. You can’t take anyone’s cock in this tight little hole if you aren’t stretched out a little anyway." Soobin hisses out the last of his words against your cheek as he adds a second finger, carefully working it into you beside the first feeling your warm, wet wall throb around them. “How are you gonna sit on my cock like this? You can barely take my fingers, pretty girl. You want my tongue too?”

Soobin’s dirty talk had you drooling and feeling dumb as you nodded along with everything he was saying. The sweet boy who had been ready to get on his hands and knees for you yesterday had you dripping like a common slut around his fingers today as Sunghoon watched curiously.

“If that’s what you want, princess, then get your ass up and sit with me. What isn’t fair is just watching. We are sharing, so let’s fucking share.” Sitting on the bed behind you and Soobin, Sunghoon rests his back against the headboard and pats his thighs as you and Soobin look back at him. “Won’t fuckin’ ask again. Fair is fair. You can get between her legs, Binnie.”

Biting at his tongue, Soobin slowly slides his fingers from you, listening to your pitiful whines as he does. When you stand up and move away from him, he wants to scream and pull you back, but he watches instead as Sunghoon grins at you, grabbing the end of your dress and sliding it up your legs.

“Good fuckin’ girl, Angel. You don’t need this anymore. I didn’t get to see anything, ‘cept your pretty little cunt earlier, huh? Let’s see all of you.”

Lifting your arms, you bite at your lips as Sunghoon helps you out of your now stained dress, leaving you in your unmatching bra and panties. Crossing your arms over your stomach, you glance down before you feel Sunghoon’s fingers on your chin lifting your head back up towards him so he can meet your eyes. "Uh, uh, none of that shit. You are perfect. Prettiest fucking girl I’ve ever had in my bed, swear to god. Come here…”

Long, skilled fingers make quick work of the clasp of your bra so that Sunghoon can work the straps down your arms, letting you drop the garment into the floor at your feet. You watch as he shakes his head, a smirk on his lips, his fingers walking the line of the top of your panties before he helps you slide them down and letting gravity do the rest.

“So pretty, baby.”

Soobin’s voice brings you back to the room. Your head had started to get cloudy with Sunghoon’s fingers tracing your skin, but that voice brought you back to reality. Meeting his eyes, you smile at Soobin as he stands up and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor before quickly getting rid of his jeans and boxers, not leaving you the only one naked in the room.

Just like the day before, you can’t help when your eyes fall to Soobin’s cock. It surprises you again how big he is and how pre-cum is dripping from his tip as he puts his knee on the bed and reaches for you, pulling you towards him for a kiss as Sunghoon shifts to his knees undressing behind you.

It isn’t until you feel skin against your back that you realize that Sunghoon is naked too. Hands grip your hips and you feel his cock bump against your outer thigh as Sunghoon chuckles next to your ear, hearing your soft gasp. “What? You didn’t want my clothes off too? I can put them back—”

“No, oh my god, please don’t.” You knew that Sunghoon was teasing you. You knew that he wouldn’t get dressed again, but yet you felt like you had to beg him to stay like he was so that you could feel his firm chest against your back as his hands found your breasts and squeezed gently, bringing a moan from your throat and into Soobin’s mouth.

“So pretty, god, I love when you sound like that. Lean back against him, Y/N. I wanna taste you so bad.” There was the whine in Soobin’s voice that you had heard yesterday. He sounded desperate again and you were dripping down your thigh because of it as Sunghoon settled back against the headboard and let you rest between his legs with his cock against your back.

Patting your thighs, Sunghoon guides your legs over his and smiles against your neck when you do as you are told. “There you go, beautiful; give him some room to work.”

Soobin wants to tell Sunghoon he doesn’t need his help for this, but the moment he spreads your legs for him, that all dies on his tongue at the sight. He had seen you before, but this was different; Soobin could watch the slick drip from you and run towards the bed as you anticipated him. It all had his mouth watering, and he couldn’t wait anymore.

Sliding down in the bed, his face level with your pussy, Soobin groans as he uses his thumbs to pull your folds apart, watching how they try to stick together from how wet you are. With one last glance up at you, Soobin closes the gap and flattens his tongue against you letting you feel the drag from your ass to your clit in one slow, smooth movement. “Fuck this pussy..." Soobin wasn’t even sure what he was saying; all he knew was heaven was between your legs and he was tasting it. With each pass of his tongue through your folds, he lets his nose nudge against your clit before getting frustrated when his glasses bump against your thigh, causing him to growl into each groan.

For you seeing Soobin between your legs, his glasses fogging up as he ate you like his last meal was a wet dream come true. You could almost see yourself covering his glasses with your cum, but after a few minutes, Soobin takes that from you when he angrily rips them from his face, putting them on the bed, making you whine out a no and making Sunghoon laugh behind you.

“I’m sorry, baby. Are you mad, Soobin isn’t fucking you with his tongue and keeping his glasses on?” Tsking as you try to turn your face from him, Sunghoon uses one hand to turn your face back towards him as he reaches for Soobin’s discarded glasses with the other carefully putting them on himself, lifting his brows at how strong the prescription turns out to be. “You’ve got some interesting kinks, princess. Tell me, you want to fuck me harder now that I’m wearing them?”

Moving your eyes over Sunghoon’s face, you can’t help but moan even louder when Soobin pushes his tongue into you, his thumb on your clit massaging it in tight circles. There was no way you could lie your way out of this so you just nodded instead.

“What a little slut we have on our hands, Soobin.” Pushing the glasses up to the top of his head, his soft hair pushed back under them, Sunghoon smirks at you as your eyes follow his every move with the glasses. “Don’t you worry about them, baby girl. I’ll keep them safe right here. Why don’t you cum on his tongue like a good girl?”

Glancing up at you and Sunghoon, Soobin groans against your folds before turning his attention fully back to you, as if demanding that you follow through with what Sunghoon is asking you to do. If Soobin had his way, you wouldn’t be cumming on anyone else’s tongue besides his. He would even keep it from Sunghoon if he could. But looking up the length of your body and feeling your hips roll against his tongue, Soobin knew that wasn’t going to happen. You were enjoying being between them both too much and he was getting off on it more than he would be willing to admit out loud.

“Good fucking girl.” Chuckling against the shell of your ear, Sunghoon traces each of your nipples, feeling you arch against his chest. You were driving him crazy and it was making his cock throb to have you rocking your body against his as Soobin ate you out like someone who hadn’t eaten in weeks. He knew you were sweet—the best thing he had even tasted, but there was something feral about how Soobin was almost growling possessively between your legs as he licked up every last drop of your cum. It was impressive.

“You got his face messy, Princess. The things we’d do for you. Look at that... " Fingers grip your chin tightly as Sunghoon tilts your head down so you can watch Soobin kiss your thighs, finally moving away from your pussy. “Face that has graced our university’s prestigious little newsletter so many fucking times because he’s some goody two shoes—” Smirking, Sunghoon meets Soobin’s eyes as he narrows his eyes back up at him from between your legs. “All covered in a pretty girl’s cum.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunghoon, and move. I’m fucking her first.”

Sunghoon slides his hands to your waist and shakes his head as he nuzzles his nose against your neck, listening to you whine out a soft moan. You were so gone, just a dumb little fuck toy for them to play with at this point that it didn’t even matter, but it mattered to him. “No. Why the hell do you get to go first? You already got to go first—”

Lifting your head, you lick your lips and force yourself to focus on Sunghoon and Soobin arguing. It was ridiculous and just like when the group project had begun, no one seemed to care what you thought—until you spoke up. “Why can’t I choose? It is me you’re fucking.”

That was a good point and it caused both men to stop bickering immediately. Hands trail along your sides as Sunghoon nods along with you, his lips finding your ear as he kisses it gently. Soobin also nods, his fingers lifting yours towards his wet lips for a lingering kiss on your knuckles as he tries to wait patiently, hoping you’ll make the right decision.

“I—” Now that you had their attention and the ball in your court, it was scary and overwhelming. Soobin’s cock was right in front of you, thick and enticing you to climb into his lap while Sunghoon’s pressed against your back, leaking on to your skin, reminding you that you could so easily let him ease you on to it. Thinking was hard, but after a moment you just sigh into a pout and meet Soobin’s eyes, making him tilt his head like a question. “Can I have both? Is that too greedy?”

It was incredibly greedy, but it made Sunghoon’s lips pull up into a full smile as he held you closer to him. “That what you want? You want to be full?”

The words cause your face to heat up instantly when you remember how good at dirty talk Sunghoon is. Nothing seemed to really phase him; he would just say what he wanted to and get it—just like now as you nod, turning your head to meet his eyes even with your face so close to his.

“Fuck…” Soobin could feel his cock jerk involuntarily against his thigh at your words and the way you were shyly looking at Sunghoon. He had never done this before, but for you, he’d figure it out. From how Sunghoon was acting, this wasn’t his first rodeo and that somehow made perfect sense. If this had been any other day, Soobin might have been more annoyed. He probably would have made some comment about how much of a whore Sunghoon was, but right now he was grateful for his experience as he ushered you into Soobin’s arms and sighed.

“What—” Closing his eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck, Soobin groans, feeling you slide over his thigh. Your warm, wet pussy gliding over his skin almost scrambles his brain as he tries to keep his wits about him and ask logical questions. “Pretty girl, you’re killing me.” Scooting along the bed with you to where Sunghoon once was, Soobin rests against the headboard, letting you rock your hips over his thigh. Holding your hips, he glances from you towards where Sunghoon searches through the nightstand beside the bed on the other side of the room. “The fuck are you looking for?”

Making a triumphant sound as he holds up a small bottle of lube and a couple of condoms, Sunghoon glances back towards you and Soobin before letting out a low groan at the sight. “Baby… I was hurrying. So fucking desperate you are trying to get off on his thigh like a cat in heat?” Dropping the items on the bed beside you, Sunghoon leans to kiss your shoulder before groaning in disbelief as you lean your head back and rest your hands on Soobin’s shoulder for stability, trying hard to get yourself off as he looks down at you. “Our pretty little needy slut. You want me to fuck your ass? Huh? Yeah, well, you are gonna have to let me prep it first or it’s gonna hurt too much.”

Suddenly your hips come to a stop, your orgasm lingering on the edge as Sunghoon slaps your hip. You watch him offer one of the condoms to Soobin as he puts the other between his teeth, ripping the foil open with ease. With one small shuddered groan, Sunghoon manages to roll the condom on and turns his attention back to the bottle of lube.

“Be gentle with her. Be still, baby.” Cooing into his words, Soobin runs his fingers along your cheek to your hairline, never taking his eyes off you. He hadn’t minded feeling you grind on his thigh, but he could understand why Sunghoon wanted you to be still. He didn’t want any of this to hurt you. He was glad it seemed that he was going to be the one who was going to be in your pussy; the idea of doing anything else made Soobin’s anxiety spike. He had been told enough times that his cock was big, including by you, but he wasn’t ready to try to figure out the logistics of what Sunghoon was doing.

“Yeah, be still, baby. Hoonie is trying to work... Sit up on your knees for me, Princess; let me see that ass. Fuck…” This wasn’t something that Sunghoon had done often. None of these supplies were his, but the person he was borrowing from had invited him to participate in a couple threesomes and he had watched it being done. Warming the lube between his fingers, Sunghoon rests his free hand on your ass before he carefully drags his lubed fingers over your tight hole, watching it clench. “Relax.”

That was easier said than done, but taking a deep breath, you nod and lean your forehead on Soobin’s shoulder, arching your back to let yourself give into the experience. The first finger up to Sunghoon’s knuckle has you digging your toes into the bedding as your breath caught in your throat until he eases his finger in more, letting more of the cold lube run between your ass and over his fingers with each slow movement.

“Okay, Angel?”

“Mmhm. Feels weird, but I like it.”

Sunghoon could tell you were already pushing your hips back towards his finger after just a couple minutes of him letting you get used to one. “Want another? And how ‘bout a distraction?”

Nodding quickly to both, you glance over your shoulder to Sunghoon, finding him smirking at you. “Yeah, Hoonie, please? I’m—it feels good, but I’m empty. I want something. I wanna do something.”

Soobin furrows his brows and leans his head to the side to watch Sunghoon’s fingers as he holds your ass firmly with one hand and slides his finger out almost all the way before putting them together and slowly pushing them back in. The sound that comes out of your mouth is enough to make Soobin wish he were already inside of you or that he prayed more often.

“That’s it… You are so tight, beautiful. Gotta stretch you out, huh?” Nodding towards Soobin, Sunghoon keeps his brows furrowed in concentration as you dig your nails into Soobin’s shoulders. “You have a perfect distraction in front of you, Princess. Mark him up, make him pretty. The other girls around campus won’t know what the fuck happened when Choi Soobin shows up on Monday.”

Whining under his breath, Soobin meets Sunghoon’s eyes before glancing down into yours as you smile at him. He wasn’t against it, but it wasn’t the other girls he was concerned about. He had classes and professors who looked at him like he was going to be part of leading the next generation on the business front, and he couldn’t really be covered in hickies. “I—just nothing visible—”

“Yes visible. Baby, let them see who you own. Fuck that. You want us both, right? I’d be proud to wear them. You aren’t proud, Binnie?

With his eyes darkening with a challenge, Soobin grits his teeth before baring his neck for you. This wasn’t how he was going to lose to Sunghoon. He wasn’t going to prove he was more worthy of you just because he was more willing to display that he had been in bed with you. That was ridiculous; Soobin wasn’t ashamed of it… He’d gladly take anything you gave him, no matter who saw the lingering marks—classmates, professors, or his parents.

Running your fingers along Soobin’s neck, you whimper under your breath as Sunghoon’s fingers scissor into you slowly. It was tempting to mark Soobin and to leave him ruined for anyone else. You wanted to do it to both of them. You did want both of them. You perhaps didn’t know how much you wanted it until Sunghoon said it and then you couldn’t help yourself.

At first you simply press a kiss to Soobin’s neck, enjoying the soft groan that spills from his lips, but quickly the kisses turn into bites as you suck on his skin, which has him holding on to you tightly. With each deep thrust of Sunghoon’s fingers, another finger added, lust drips from you and finds its way to Soobin as you moan against his skin, making him yours.

Feeling his third finger moving with a bit more ease inside of you, Sunghoon smirks when you start to pant into your moans against Soobin’s throat. He could see the red splotches covering the other man’s skin and he couldn’t lie to himself and say he didn’t want that for himself. He wanted you to mark him as much as he wanted to mark you. He wanted to ruin you for anyone else besides him. The only fucking person he would ever let touch you again would be Soobin and that was only because it’s what you wanted.

“Gonna cum? From me fingering your ass? My dirty little princess is full of surprises.” Sunghoon listens to you sob out a moan when his fingers slip from you and leave you empty and right on the edge of your orgasm, once again edging you. “I love when you cry like that, Angel. I’d rather you cum on a cock. You wanted them so bad, you’ve made Soobin wait... sit on it.”

That was music to Soobin’s ears. His skin was on fire and he was starting to be afraid he was going to cum from just your mouth on his neck. Leaning his head back for a deep breath, Soobin licks his lips and focuses his eyes on you. “Ready, baby?” Sliding his hand to your hip, he strokes his cock from tip to base one time with the other, keeping himself in place for you.

“Mhm, please? Sunghoon is being bossy.”

Your voice is quiet and teasing, but just loud enough for Soobin to hear, making him laugh. Nodding along with you, he starts to speak to tell you that you are right, when all words die on his tongue as you slide your hips forward and over his shaft and fingers much like you had the day before.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N.”

You could tell that Soobin was being serious, and yet it was too tempting to keep teasing him. You almost wanted to see what would happen if you kept teasing him. In your mind, you could picture him throwing you down on the bed and fucking you hard and fast. Every scenario in your mind had you dripping over and more over his fingers and cock so when he does finally snap, growling your name, you barely have time to react.

“I said don’t fucking tease me. You want to be bossed around, little slut?” Fingers dig into your hip as Soobin pulls you against his chest and nudges his cock into your entrance, lowering you down over him carefully. “You want me to just use you like a toy?”

“You know she does. She’s pushing your buttons for a reason, Soobin.” Knocking one of Soobin’s legs to the side, Sunghoon moves to his knees behind you as he strokes his cock, his hand covered in the same lube he had used to prep you. “Just wants her little holes filled up so she doesn’t have to think, right princess?”

Sunghoon waits until Soobin has you settled completely on his cock before he repeats the process he had with his finger with the head of his cock. He watches how you clench around nothing before he painstakingly eases himself into you, letting you adjust and fall forward towards Soobin.

There are no words spoken at first, only moans and deep breaths, as each one of you has to focus on not letting go in that exact moment. You feel overwhelmingly full and Sunghoon and Soobin struggle with how tight you suddenly are and how even without moving they can almost feel each other inside of you, making their head’s spin with how different it is.

“Shit… Someone’s gotta move. She’s too tight. I’m gonna cum if we don't.”

Nodding along with Sunghoon’s pleas, Soobin holds your hips steady as he makes the first move, rocking his hips up towards yours. A chorus of moans fills his ears, including his own, causing him to repeat the motion only deeper and harder than the first.

Sunghoon rests his head forward on your shoulder, letting Soobin move you over him like a toy. He knew he should be trying to do more, but you felt so tight around his cock that he felt like he was going to explode at any moment. You sounded too good and the entire experience was too good; he shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he was—but he was just letting himself go.

You were too far gone. You were full and the moment that Soobin started to move, that was it. There were no more thoughts that could ever enter your mind. There were only Soobin and Sunghoon. You didn’t need anything else to survive. No water or food would ever sustain you like they would. Only being in their arms, having them in your life, or them making you feel this good could keep you alive.

No one had to tell Soobin or Sunghoon that you were going to cum. You weren’t saying any words that made sense at this point, only whines and their names, but they didn’t need words to tell them what was coming. Your body was telling them everything. Even though Sunghoon wasn’t the one you were cumming around, it didn’t matter; he could feel it. You were tighter and it took him over the edge with you so quick that he didn’t have time to catch his breath.

Soobin tried to commit the moment to memory for the rest of his life as if this would never happen again. The feeling of your soft walls closing on his cock as he buried himself completely inside of you, only to feel how you didn’t want to let him go when your orgasm ripped through you. Nothing about how his own climax followed suit was elegant, but it was something he would remember as Soobin groaned your name loudly and thrust into you hard and fast, hearing not only you but Sunghoon say his name when he came hard.

You weren’t sure who moved you or cleaned you up, but it wasn’t until the sun was peeking through the window the next morning that you realized that you were still in Sunghoon’s room. Lifting your head, you furrow your brows, feeling an arm over your stomach and legs tangled with yours.

On one side of you, Sunghoon had his cheek squished into a pillow of a bed that he and Soobin had apparently pushed together with his in order to make a bed big enough for the three of you to sleep in. On the other side, Soobin lay on his back, arm over his eyes, letting you get a clear view of your art work beginning to bloom along his neck.

Glancing down, you bring the shirt covering your upper half to your nose, realizing you don’t recognize it but it must be one of Sunghoon’s. They had even taken time to dress you after you passed out. Your body was sore; you felt like you could lay back down between them and sleep the day away, but then your mind starts to wander and the confusion and shame starts to seep in, causing you to look for the emergency exit as you wiggle from under the sheet, trying not to wake either of them.

“Where are you going, baby?” Peeking under his arm as you struggle with the sheet tangled around your foot near Sunghoon, Soobin yawns under his breath before stretching. You were even cuter this morning. God, he was screwed when it came to you. He had never cooperated so much with Sunghoon in his life as he did when you had fallen asleep and they had to clean you up. Reaching for his glasses, Soobin pushes them up his nose and rocks his neck back and forth as he sits up, watching you settle on your knees in the middle of the bed, realizing you had gotten caught.

“Um… nowhere?”

“Liar… You moved my covers. It’s cold. Can’t you lie to me from under the covers, Princess? Come back to bed.” Sunghoon’s voice is whiny and makes your heart tighten as he reaches blindly towards you, his fingertips running over your knee before resting on your leg as he yawns.

“I think—I thought maybe I should go home. Let you guys do whatever it is you do—”

“Ouch. The walk of shame?” Sighing louder, Sunghoon turns on his back, exasperated that you had made him get out from under the covers and look at you.

Opening your mouth and closing it a few times, you shake your head before looking down in defeat and nodding while shrugging. “I guess so. It was just sex, right? So I just need to bite the bullet and put on my big girl pants and get over it.”

Looking around in confusion, Soobin runs his fingers through his hair before Sunghoon laughs and sits up, putting his face in his hands, still laughing as you whine his name embarrassed.

“It’s not funny, Sunghoon! Oh my god… Why are you making fun of me now? Was I that much of a joke—”

Reaching out for your arm, Sunghoon pulls you back towards the top of the bed where he and Soobin are, causing you to gasp in surprise by being forced to move so suddenly. “I am making fun of you, idiot. You aren’t a joke, but this is some kind of joke if you think you are still the flavor of the week. I already told you that I like you. I don’t pass that out like currency, Y/N.” When you wiggle in his arms, Sunghoon rolls his eyes and looks down at you annoyed before looking at Soobin for help.

“We said we’d figure it out, Y/N. Don’t you want to?” Shifting a bit closer on the bed, Soobin holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him. “I don’t sleep around and I don’t do this. I don’t have threesomes, especially with—” Letting out a sigh, realizing he doesn’t want to fight with Sunghoon or push his buttons, despite their past relationship, Soobin tilts his head and leans down to push his lips against yours as you rest against Sunghoon’s chest. “Wanna give it a try?”

You must still be asleep. This must be a weird, fucked up, wet dream that you were going to wake up from. Opening your eyes, you glance down at your arm before pinching it and wincing loudly, causing both Sunghoon and Soobin to laugh in disbelief. “I’m not dreaming.”

"No, you idiot... God, you are so cute.” It was Sunghoon’s turn to kiss you; if you thought you were dreaming, he wanted to help you realize you weren’t and it wasn’t fair that Soobin had already gotten a kiss and he hadn’t. Letting his lips linger on yours, Sunghoon lets his fingers fall from your jaw and watches you open your eyes once more, your chest rising and falling quickly as you seem to realize it’s all real and you nod.

“Two boyfriends is a pretty good deal, Princess. We are both smart, handsome, and wealthy. We’d spoil—”

Loud knocking at the door makes you jump against Sunghoon and Soobin’s arms before you all hear a loud sigh and a pleading voice. “Just tell them yes and get the fuck out of my room. I need to get some clothes and take a shower!”

Wincing at Heeseung’s voice, Sunghoon gives you a strained smile before looking around the room and back at the door. “Can—hey Hee? Can you give us like an hour?”

“No! Fuck, no man!”

More insistent knocking makes you wince and recoil in the bed as Sunghoon slips out from one side and mutters under his breath towards Soobin. “We gotta move his bed back and don’t fuckin’ mention I used his shit from his nightstand. He’s sensitive about that shit.” Looking back at you, Sunghoon winks and waves his hand towards you to get you moving. “Up, princess. Heeseung’s being a little bitch. We have to move our beautiful moment.”

“Sunghoon, you’re the bitch. What’s that sound? Did you move my bed again?”

READ THE SVT VERSION NOW

#enhypen smut #txt smut #sunghoon smut #soobin smut #svnet #enhypen angst #txt angst #sunghoon angst #soobin angst #enhypen fluff #txt fluff #sunghoon fluff #soobin fluff #enhypen comedy #txt comedy

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hyukascampfire · 15 days ago

Text

𝓖INGER & 𝓢NAP ` ꕀ. k.th

you were the last person taehyun expected to appear on his doorstep. sweet and fluffy and oh-so-proper; he never thought he’d see you again. but... there you stand. and, much to his own chagrin, he fears that nobody else could get him more bothered. ׄ ⋆ ִ

་༘ ՚՚ ꒰ 🪵 ꒱ ･ 7.9k

ρairings gingerbread!taehyun x frosty puff!reader

𝒢 ‧̥ smut, fantasy, strawberry shortcake au

⍵arnings brat taming, brat tamer!taehyun & brat!reader, his cum is frosting, creampie, ofc no sex ed in strawberryland, thigh riding, oral m!receiving, cumming into mouth, cum eating, corruption of innocence & innocent!reader, banter, chubby!reader and buff!taehyun, manhandling, he throws her around a bit and she's so into it, they don't like each other but also def do, he likes to teach her manners, reader is also spoiled & rich and taehyun is not, hair pulling, he gets mean, no protectiom, let me know if i missed some!

✎୭ ashlynn's note this collab has been seriously so fun. writing fics is fun, but there's something about talking your friends and scheming all the yummy ways you can incorporate certain things into your fic. @thetxtdevil mae baby, thank you so much for being the best and even coming up with this idea. your mind amazes me... like actually. everybody did so unbelievably good, and i'm blessed to have been a part of it. now... let's get foody and smutty lol. some of this was written in a benadryl haze, but that's the fun part. i'm sorry mine came out a lil later than everybody else's, but hopefully it's still fun!

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

Raising your fist to the door, your knuckles rap against it with a few thick knocks. The door is frosted around the edges in little swirling white puffs of icing, framing the gingerbread door. It’s the same all around his house: gumdrops and candy canes and the like, all twinkling with sugar crystals.

It’s all so sweet—unbelievably so. The man that calls it home is the very antithesis of sweet. He does not take after the gumdrop, nor the sweetness of the icing, and most definitely not the brown sugar and molasses of the gingerbread. Taehyun is the quick snapping of a leg, or the sharpness on your tongue when you get to the cinnamon and nutmeg.

You loathe it. Even being stood here, knocking at his door, you hate. He is everything uncouth and abrasive—he is everything you should not entertain.

Here you are, entertaining it. The door swings open. Your fingers and toes have begun to slow with the cold, like frosty-whip in the fridge. Through the forest, stepping over sugar bushes and cocoa streams, you had fought the bite. Why did he have to live all the way out here? Secluded, as though the rest of Strawberryland were beneath his meddling. You know why: it’s that he believes it. He is exactly as your parents told you he’d be, all those years ago. Of course, they were right. They always are.

When he catches sight of you at his door, his distant eyes morph, and his lip tugs into a scowl. The rise of his brows ruffles your feathers with an infuriating ease. “Is there something you want?” he asks. His tone is infuriating, too. It’s the kind of question that means much more beyond the words said. You catch exactly what he means—how he intends to get under your skin.

Hidden behind the door, he has one hand on the handle. It's an unspoken thing, too. He wants you to remember that he could close it. You can’t let him, or else you’ll have drug your pretty new furry winter boots through the powdered snow for him to slam a door in your face. “Yeah, actually. There is.” You run preening fingers through the ends of your hair. “We’re partners for the bake-off.”

“I don’t do the bake-off,” he says. His eyes would be chocolate and smooth if it weren’t for the way he wields them sharp. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to find somebody more your speed for that.”

Barking an incredulous, perhaps even snobby, laugh, you look around. Snow comes down on the ground, sweet and creamy. It’d been enough of a battle to come here. If you were going to give up so easily, you would’ve turned your little bottom around perhaps two hours ago. Does he think you hadn’t considered that? It was a long walk; you had plenty of time to mull over the many things he might do. Sometimes, you imagined him diplomatic and affable. You stomped those wispy thoughts out. Perhaps it’s been years since you’ve spoken with him, and perhaps what happened between the two of you is dusted over, but you know better. Here he stands in front of you: bitter as ever.

“You’re just gonna leave me without a partner?” you say. Your jaw trembles, seized finally by the cold. “Everybody is already paired up. Literally everybody.”

Shrugging, he says, “I don’t see how that’s my problem. I didn’t sign up for it.”

Your brows knit. That means somebody else had signed him up. You have a sneaking suspicion who might’ve—Blueberry Kai always tells you that he just feels excluded. It’s hard not to laugh when he does. Taehyun? Excluded? He is exactly where he wants to be. Where most are sweet in Strawberryland, the snappy gingerbread finds it easier to justify his bitterness when he lives off in his little gingerbread home, out and away in his own neck of the forest only to be found by a winding gumdrop road, where he can pretend he’s above it all.

It’s entirely ironic. Him, better than you? Gingerbread, and all his ruggedness? His unpolished edges? Once, you’d believed that the two of you weren’t so different. That you could be friends, even. Seeing what he’s grown to be, you think you understand why your parents stepped in. Back then, though, as just that soft little girl who followed the charismatic boy around with crystal stars in your eyes, it had been the worst thing to ever happen to you. He had been so gravity-defying, moving through the soft, marshmallow edges and the sugar-whipped reality of Strawberryland as something different.

No. Not gravity-defying. Rather, in the powdery and sweet sweet Strawberryland, you think that he is the only thing with gravity.

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” he echoes, letting a little patronizing laugh out along with it. “That’s sweet.”

It’s hard not to shift or cross your arms over your chest, abraded by the dripping sneer.

“What? It’s not. It’s not fair that, just because you don’t want to at least give it a try, I can’t participate,” you say. Really, you should just crawl back home and beg to join somebody’s duo, but you can’t lose like that. You can’t lose to him. If you leave it like this, then he’ll have gotten the better of you.

“Can’t get everything we want, huh?” he says, straightening up and taking the door in his hand once more. “Just because everybody else has bent backward to give you what you want doesn’t mean that I will.”

“Wait,” you say, sighing in a white swirl. “Don’t close the door. Don’t you know your manners? It’s rude. You’re just going to let me freeze out here? I walked all the way out here, and even got snow all over my new boots, just for this, just for you to slam a door in my face? I mean, a gentleman would at least invite me in to warm me up.”

Lips twitching into a laugh and his eyes suddenly alight, he says, “A gentleman, huh?” He pulls the door open a little further. The warmth from his home, warm and spiced and oh-so-inviting like oven-warmed gingerbread, brushes over your twinkling skin. “Sure. Show me your manners, then. I want you to ask me nicely.”

Your jaw tightens. Sending him a once over, sharpening your eyes, you decide to just do it. His tone is nasty, but you don’t want to be disqualified for not having a partner. Even if he’s the worst you could’ve been paired with in all of Strawberryland. Or maybe the best, because it’s a gingerbread house competition this year. “Will you just do it?”

“I said ask nicely. Say please.”

He wears a mean smile—he’s having fun watching you squirm. So, you make a conscious effort to straighten up. “Will you please be my partner for the competition?” you say, making your voice sugary and batting your eyelashes in an overdone way. He thinks he’s funny.

Stepping out of the doorway, he motions you inside. It might look gentlemanly if it weren't for the sting in his eyes. You swallow down petty words and push through, your arms full with supplies. Arms aching, you finally let them clatter down over the countertop. The inside of his home is fresh-baked and spiced, aromatic like a true gingerbread cookie straight from the oven. You’re sure the glowing fire helps carry the smell in warm air. It wraps your cold bones up and smooths over some of the frayed edges. You’d been out there for so long… Nobody else had to walk that far for their partner.

Better just to get this done as quickly as you can. You just have to put up with him today, and you’ll be done, and then you can have fun with the competition. He won’t even show up for it; you’re sure.

“I’ll do it all if it’s that big of a deal,” you tell him, laying out the walls and warming the icing between your palms. “You can put the peppermint on, I guess. So then we can say we both worked on it.”

Hair the fluffy brown of true gingerbread and dusted with snowflakes like powdered sugar. Taehyun shakes his head, and it moves with him. “No,” he says, the corners of his lips still turned up as though he knows something you don’t. He rolls the sleeves of his gaudy, knitted Christmas sweater up to his elbows. The corded muscle there, flickering with movement, catches you off guard. Gingerbread, built like that? Tearing your eyes off him with the effort of metal tearing itself from a magnet, you watch him approach the kitchen counters. “I’ll help. We’re partners, right?”

No matter what he says, there’s a twist of something sparkling in those sharp eyes that has you watching him closer—has you trying to gauge exactly what he’s playing at. “Uh… Yeah. Sure. If you want to, I guess.” You gesture at the walls. “Two for us, and ten for display. Can you start the walls?”

“Ten?” he says. “We’re making twelve gingerbread houses?”

With your lips pulled taut, you say, “Yeah… Twelve. Is that too much? I didn’t think any amount of gingerbread houses would be too much for you. That’s a little ironic.” Everything is warm in his home—even when you look down at your own hands to tug off your white woolen gloves, your skin that usually sparkles like frost rests just beneath the surface is tinged with the warmth.

“I can handle it just fine,” he says, taking the wall and base sections of one. “Just wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty outfit. Twelve is a lot of icing.” He spits the word pretty out like it tastes bad. On his tongue, you’re sure it does. He never cared for pretty things the way you do. Your mommy always said that he was just jealous, but when the both of you were little, before your parents’ meddling, you learned that it was just a different lifestyle. One that you don’t understand, perhaps. Who doesn’t enjoy dressing themselves in lush furs and sugar crystals over their necks?

“I’ll be fine,” you say, snipping the tip of the piping bag open. “I wore these knowing they’d get dirty. They’re my baking clothes. My boots already got all messed up…”

“Oh,” he says. “You put on cashmere knowing you’ll get it dirty. Mommy and daddy paid a pretty penny for that, huh? And it’s your throwaway outfit?”

“Look. If you like it so much, I’ll let you have it when we’re done, yeah? Maybe you’ll make a pretty penny off selling it.” You ice a warm white line down the length of a wall. “Can you hurry? I’m already icing. I don’t want to be here all day.”

There’s a few long, thrumming moments of quiet, where only the sound of your piping back crackling fills his home. Finishing a wall, you tear yourself away from your work to spare a glance his way.

Taehyun’s jaw is tight, a muscle flickering where he grits his jaw in the low light that washes over him. There’s a fire blazing in his eyes, and though he doesn’t turn them on you, the smoke rolling from them is enough to make your skin warm. You’d successfully gotten under his skin. Why stop here, when seeing that look on his face is so fun? He looks as sour as an apple; as spiced as cinnamon. “Wall?” you say, sharp and haughty as you offer your hand out to him in an impatient demand.

Snapping his head up, he hands you a wall with the heat of a thousand ovens in his face. You feel the scald he intends for you with it, and you revel in it.

You bark commands at him, watching his shoulders grow tense and his lips twitch with each. Crush the candy canes, you tell him. Melt the icing. Sprinkle these over that. Soon enough, you’re sitting back and watching him work more than anything.

He doesn’t say a word. You see them brimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them burst out all venomous like you know he wants to. It’s quite the show.

“Would you at least help me hold this up?” he says, holding the walls of a house together with one hand. His hands are a mess of runny sugar and powdered sugar for snow, and yours are perfectly clean. You can at least help a little bit if you want to claim any part in the competition.

You reach for the piping bag, fat with the sweet sweet icing, and straighten a wall up. You trace the seams with it, thick and like glue. With a bit too much pressure, the side of the bag bursts. White rivulets of slow icing run down your fingers and over the table. You curse, dropping it to the counter. That’s all of your icing, flopped down and deflating over the surface all sad-like. It’d been so much, that you thought it would last you each house and then some. Of course, you hadn’t brought extra.

Bringing your sticky fingers up to your mouth, you suckle the mess off. It’s so very sweet—warm and weeping, nutty and spiced with something like nutmeg. It’s Taehyun: the smell of it, the way it spreads over your tongue… You stick your tongue out to catch it where some drips down your forearm. “Mmm,” you say, sticky-armed. “Tastes good.” That’ll be good on the gingerbread houses; maybe the two of you do have a chance at winning.

When you look up to Taehyun, he stands frozen in place, his hands still holding up a half-constructed gingerbread house. His eyes are different. It’s a look you don’t recognize—a look you’ve never seen before. Rather than deep and warm, his eyes are blackish and heavy. A swallow goes down his throat; a tense, barely contained thing.

You frown, your lips still a sugary mess. “I didn’t mean to make a mess. Sorry. I’ll clean it up…”

Clearing his throat, Taehyun says, “Yeah…”

He watches you clean the counters, where the icing had pooled, and now the bag is empty, with the same intensity. You can feel it on your skin in a foreign, itching way. You swipe and scoop and work at the spill, and still, he watches. He does not speak.

You survey the houses you’ve managed to finish. They’re pretty, and absolutely competition ready: looping swirls of icing like shingles on the roofs, peppermint chunks all red and white catching light where you’d sprinkled them into the frosting, gumdrops lining the paths true to Taehyun’s own home, and powdered sugar sifted over the entirety of it like snowfall. It’s all great, but there are only four. “What are we supposed to do now?” you say, lips pouty. “That’s all the icing I brought. We literally can’t make any more.” You wipe at a smear on your cheek. How’d that get there? “I think I’m gonna have to come back tomorrow… Can you hold on to the houses for me?”

“Yeah—yeah, sure. Tomorrow,” he says, blinking something away. He straightens. “It’s a long walk. I think you should get going.”

You want to say something snarky or ask him why he wants you out of the house so fast, but it’s true. Night’s creeping over Strawberryland, and you have no icing, and tomorrow’s the last day before the bake-off. If the two of you don’t work harder tomorrow than you did today, then you won’t even make qualifications. You’ll lose before even starting.

You never lose. Not like this, and certainly not to the man standing before you.

ꕀ

“C’mon. You can do better than that, can’t you?” Taehyun says, drooping icing from rooftops like icicles as you sprinkle crushed candies over the top.

You grit your teeth. If he’d been snappy yesterday, he’s made it his mission to be your worst nightmare today. You think it’s his sort of revenge for ordering him around how you did. “What would you like, then?” you say. Maybe it’s feeding right into what he wants, but your life has lent you a short fuse. “You don’t even care about winning. Why does it matter? Let me do it how I want.”

He’s in another sweater. The sleeves are bunched up to the elbow just like yesterday, but you think he’s making a point with it this time. The shifting of his muscles is a bit too intense for piping icing. You’d made it through three more houses, wrangling your inner demons with each passing snide remark or nasty smile the whole time. It doesn’t help that he keeps his home terribly toasty, and you run cold down to the core. You melt and melt until all that is left of your temper is a puddle on the floor beneath you. Gone.

“We’re partners, remember?” he says. He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. “I don’t do things half-assed, Frosty.”

You’re sent reeling with the old nickname. It’d been sweet then, back when it was just the two of you against the world, but now it’s gone sour like milk. It even comes from his mouth soured. It’s something that you thought you’d left a million lifetimes ago, never to hear again. With Taehyun, though, it’s hard to pretend that you are no longer that.

He will not let you forget that, at one point, the two of you were friends. An unlikely pair, especially looking at you now. You thought it was all nothing to you, but seeing him has kicked up dust.

“You don’t?” you say, shooting him a quick glare from the side of your eye. “That’s funny.”

Strong brows shooting up, Taehyun quits mid-piping to look at you. “Funny? What’s funny about it to you?”

You can’t settle the obnoxious smile that curls at the edges of your mouth, mean and taunting and falsely sweet. “Oh, nothing.” You shake a sifter full of powder against your palm. It falls like true snow down over the house.

“No, tell me,” he says, his eyes trained and heavy on your dismissive shrug. “Tell me what you think of me. I wanna hear it.”

Oh, this will be good.

“It’s just that,” you say, “you’re not really known for doing things the best way, you know? Living all the way out here, an ass when anybody tries to talk to you… Well, really, it’s just that nobody likes you. But, don’t worry! I’m sure there’s at least somebody that does.”

His face falls, the twinkle of delight at taunting you that he’d been holding in his eyes gone away. All that’s left is the peaking of something deeper and roiling from out of the cracks. You get the funny feeling that maybe you’ve taken it a step too far.

But, you never lose.

“Is that what it is?” he says. “I work for my shit. You? Everything you’ve ever had has been handed to you.” He measures his words delicately. Like a measuring cup full over the top, he cuts the excess words and coarseness off. He doesn’t say all that he thinks, but you see all he leaves unsaid toiling furiously behind his eyes.

His eyes. They’re clear and, sharp as they are, they pin you. It’s a reflection of that look he gave you yesterday: deep and swirling and wild. It’s more than that, this time, though. It’s laced with anger and bursting at the seams of him. You’re not sure he’ll be able to hold back whatever it is that storms just beneath his skin, this time.

“It is,” you say, punctuation your words concisely. “It’s exactly why my parents said I shouldn’t hang out with you. They said that I’m above… all this.”

Oh, you’ve absolutely taken it too far now. You don’t really mean it. Sure, that’s what they told you, but you don’t really believe it. For some time, you did, but not now. It’s too late for sorries, though. Taehyun’s jaw goes tense.

For a long, awful moment, you just stand there and burn in his silence. It’s worse than any words he might spit. It’s hot—hot, hot, hot, and you turn liquid in it.

In a blink, nothing more, you collide against his countertop. Something clatters and thuds behind you. The gingerbread houses? That doesn’t matter right now—all that your dizzy mind can manage is his body crushing you and his fingers biting into the plush of your cheeks.

Where he had fractured, like true gingerbread, he snaps. You can see it in his eyes; even you know when you’ve pushed too far. Perhaps you ought to have seen this coming.

His knuckles curl white around the edge of the counter beside you, and his fingers dig deeper into your face. He’s oh-so-hot up against you. “I’m sick of your fucking mouth,” he snarls. His breath is hot as it fans over your face, too. “Someone needs to put you in your place. Where are your goddamn manners?”

Your heart thrums in your chest, and your pulse goes wild in your neck. You can’t form the words to answer him.

“Quiet now, huh?” he says. The husk in it makes the place between your thighs feel weird. You don’t know what’s wrong with you.

He shut you up real quick. You’ll give him that.

That funny feeling does flips, roaring to life when his fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms. “That’s your problem.” His eyes send a chill up and down your spine. “You’ve never been told no. You’ve always gotten what you wanted.” Peeling down all the layers, he tugs your knitted stockings and your little fur skirt, and your sweet frosty panties, too. They bunch at your feet. Between your thighs, right where those foreign, throbbing waves reign, cool air laps at a wetness there. The hair all over your body rises. You’ve never felt anything like it. “Not with me. I'll set you straight. I don’t put up with spoiled brats.”

“I’m not a brat,” you say. “You’re just an ass.” They’re the first words that come to you. Damn your temper.

With the same hand he’d been holding your face in place with, he curls his fingers right into your scalp and yanks hard, baring your neck to him. You lose a strained squeak, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sting. If your heart had been racing before, it runs wild, now. You strain your eyes to look at him and his curled lips. Painted with a sneer, he says, “Watch your mouth.”

A swallow goes down your throat hard. It’s all unfamiliar: the aching between your thighs, the burning in your blood, and the dazing of your thoughts. “Taehyun, I… I feel weird. It feels weird.”

Something knowing passes over him. “Yeah?” he says. “Show me where. I can help.”

Show him? You hesitate, searching his eyes for an ounce of joke or aversion. You find none, and that pounding is syrupy-sweet, and he says he can help. That’s all you want; all you need. Taking a trembling hand, you bring it down your body, running the palm down the planes of your belly and resting it just over the spot where the lower bit gives way to the apex of your thighs. Going any further—the thought tightens your throat and pinkens your cheeks the color of strawberry frosting. “There. It feels weird there.”

Taehyun smiles a snappy, spiced smile. He likes that. “Want me to make it feel better?”

Your thoughts feel replaced by something powdery and weightless. You give him a dumb nod.

“Say please.”

Something bratty crawls up your throat, but you want help, and he’s the one who will give it to you. He’d meant that: teaching you a lesson. Melted around the edges already, you say, “Please, help make it feel better.” Your voice wavers.

“There we go. That’s how good girls talk. That’s how you ask to get what you want.” He nudges your thighs apart with a knee and slots it between them, pressed right up against that coolness. Right up against that need. “Grind down on it.”

Neck aching at the angle, you say, “Grind?”

He brushes his clothed thigh right up against you. The friction is delicious—sweet and melty and just what you need. It shoots yellow sparks throughout you.

It feels so good. Your mouth waters in anticipation.

“Grind,” he says. It’s harder, this time. Not a sweet suggestion.

You bring yourself back down on it, gasping at the contact, and you do. You grind, tummy tightening at every brush of the fabric hard and delicious. Your chest constricts, one hand flying up to dig your fingers into his shoulder and the other fighting the hand he has still in your hair. It aches and hurts, and so does the friction as you grow more gaspy and frantic.

It feels so, so good. You want more—you want him to touch you there and everywhere else. He smells just right all over you, nutty and musky like a gingerbread twist. “Taeh—hyun,” you mewl. It burns, but something slick eases the burn a little bit. Just enough for you to enjoy that burn.

“That’s it,” he coos. It’s not a sweet coo; it’s the type of sound one might make when you play right into their mean game. It’s mean. “Make yourself a mess on my thigh. I don’t even have to touch you. What would mommy and daddy think of you now, huh? What would they think if they saw their precious princess fucking herself on my thigh?”

No. That would be the end of you. You whine, thighs twitching. Something twists in your center, scary and foreboding, and still you chase it. None of your thoughts are solid enough to stop. Each time he flexes a muscled thigh or presses it harder into you, you shudder and curl your fingers into his shirt harder.

“Don’t like that, huh?” he laughs. “Then you haven’t learned your lesson. You’re no better than me; I mean, look at you.”

You want to cry when he pins your hips back to the counter, stilling your wild bucking. Squeezing your eyes shut, you claw and reach for that wave, even as it recedes from you. “Why?” you say, voice thin. It’d been so yummy—the sweetness still rests on your tongue. Your heart thumps hard, longing for it.

“I said, look at yourself,” he growls, taking his hold on your hair to crank your head down.

Right where you’d been on his thigh, there’s a sticky, marshmallowy mess. Your mess.

Taehyun releasing his grip on your hair is almost a relief, but he doesn’t even give you time to relish it. The walls of his house blur around you. All that you register in between the motions is his shoulder in your belly and your limbs dangling from you. You dig your hands into his back to balance yourself, but he’s got you.

He has you slung over his shoulder. He’s carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. That place between your thighs flutters anew. In all your life, you never worried too much about the plushness of your belly or your thighs. It is who you are; all mallow and soft around the edges and starkly sweet. But you did get nervous when somebody tried picking you up. Usually, you protest and giggle it off. Watching somebody strain to pick you up when they lift other girls like sacks of flour is just something that makes you feel a little strange.

But, Taehyun does not strain. He doesn’t huff; he carries you right down the hallway and into his room, and he even manhandles you down onto the bed with a bounce without so much as a sound. He is a solid pillar beneath you, and then he is a solid, muscled chest above you. With strong fingers, he pins your hands to the mattress above you. With the other, he leads your shirt up.

He’s so warm against your cold skin. His breath like waves from the oven over your mouth, he says, “You think you’re so much better than me because you have all this?” Curling his fingers around a necklace circling your throat, he tears it off with a clattering of a few snow-drop beads.

You gasp, glaring right into his eyes. “What the hell?” you hiss, arching your chest to wiggle beneath him. Your necklace. Who does he think he is, breaking your stuff? That was one of your favorite necklaces, and now it lies all over his floor. Still, your center pounds and longs for the return of his touch. Everything about him just calls for more from you. You don’t know how you went so long without him, or how you made yourself forget just how drawn you are to his magnetism. Maybe he is just what your parents turn their nose up at, and you too, but that does not make him any less a powerful personality.

He knows exactly who he is and what he wants, as solid as the gingerbread cookie. And you, plush and impressionable as whipped marshmallows, take to him just right. It’s something you once knew, but the sneered words of adults obscured that memory.

“Don’t whine,” he says. “I want to see your pretty neck without all that shit. That’s your problem: you’re spoiled.” He reaches down to mess with his pants.

His length springs free. Cheeks flushing, you take it in. You can’t look away, even as embarrassment crawls spindly legs over your skin at the interest you take in the sight. You’ve never seen anything like it—long and hot and weeping something thick and white from the slit at the pinkish tip. A pearl of it dribbles down, landing on your belly in a string where he holds it.

Taehyun collects that wetness and then urges more from the tip with a few drags down the length of it. Wrapping his fingers around it, he begins to slowly work his fist up and down it. It’s nothing short of impossible to tear your sights off it—it’s another thing that inexplicably fans the flames of something roaring in your center. “Do you want to touch it?” he says, watching your tongue dart out to wet your lips.

The sight of him growing restless over his pumping fist is enough to get you nodding.

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and under his breath. He lets his hand off it. “Go ahead. Touch it. I won’t tell anybody you did.”

When he frees your pinned wrists, you reach out a slow hand. You curl your fingers around it the way he had. Your fingers don’t even touch around jt. The weight and warmth of him in your palm makes your blood tingle. Looking up, you search for guidance in those intelligent, swirling eyes. His bangs hang over his eyes as he watches.

Placing his hand over yours, he drags it up and down his rigid length the way he had been doing a few beats ago. “Like that,” he says. “Just like that.”

You pump your closed fist up and down him, encouraged to squeeze harder and flick your wrist faster with each tight breath he lets slip. The skin of your palm gets stickier and stickier, the slick sounds sending your ears and core burning just the same. You like that it makes him feel good—that he’s making those noises just for you.

He twitches under your fingers. “Feels just like I thought your pretty hands would…” he says, stomach tight. “See—what happens when you give up that bratty fucking act? Shit… harder—give it to me harder, Frosty…” Shivering at the name, you oblige him. You reach your thumb up and collect more of that beaded liquid from the slit, and you work your arm harder. Faster. Your forearm begins to burn, but you don’t let it slow you. All you want is more of this; more of him. Finally, he lets sounds out from his chest freely. He grunts and hisses through his teeth, letting his head fall back. “Holy shit. I’m gonna—gonna ice your face, okay?” he says. “You said you liked the taste, huh? Wanna taste it again? Give me your tongue…”

Whatever that means, you push yourself up and situate your face in front of his length, your tongue out. Taehyun’s sounds tighten, and his hips begin to stutter and chase your hand. He picks his head back up to look down at you half-lidded—to watch. With only a few last runs of your palm down his length, skin so slick that your hand just slips and slides up him, he growls through gritted teeth. The weight of him in your working hand twitches once more, and from that weeping tip he shoots dancing ribbons of white. It lands on your tongue hot and sweet, melting out all spiced and snappy.

Snappy like gingerbread. Like gingerbread icing. Swallowing it down, you meet his gaze. He pants, chest rising and falling, but there’s something clear and knowing in his heavy eyes when you do. You think you know now, why he’d been so dazed as you made a show of licking that same sticky icing off your hands and said how good it tasted.

When you release him from your palm, it glistens with his sweet essence. He softens in front of your eyes just the littlest bit.

Eyes just as hungry and still catching his breath, Taehyun says, “Open your mouth. I wanna see your tongue.”

Belly doing wicked twists, you do. You stick your tongue out for him, still laden with the headiness of his taste. He does taste good.

“Swallowed it all down?” he says, eating the sight of you with your mouth dropped open up. “You really are so nasty. They all think you’re so sweet—you think you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He pushes you back down to the bed with a palm. “Well, not me. I know that you’re just as filthy as you are spoiled. Somebody had to deal with you.”

Like always, snarky words swirl in your mouth. All it would take is letting them fall off your tongue. But you don’t—not with the feeling between your thighs, and not with the way your blood, frost turned to snowmelt, begs for him to fix it. Not when you know that all it will get you is more of Taehyun’s wrath.

It’s not like what he says is true, or anything. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

“Taehyun, please. I need it…” He takes a marshmallow thigh of yours, pressing it up so that it melds with your belly. Cool air reminds you once more of that strange wetness between them.

Dark, blown eyes catching the sight of it, his lips quirk into a scoff. “Need what?” he says, reaching a hand down. At the contact of his fingers, just as they had against his thigh, your hips jolt and an explosion like the breaking of sugar glass shoots down the muscles of your thighs. He scoops that stickiness up from its source, bringing the soft cream up to his mouth. Tongue darting out, he has a taste of you just as you had tasted him. “Shit—you taste good too, frosty. You’re so sweet, how’d you turn out like this? That’s okay. I’ll deal with you, and then you’ll be just as sweet as you taste.” That fat tip of him presses flush to the source of all your want. “I’ll straighten you out.”

You don’t know what that means, and you are absolutely sure that you don’t deserve it, but any sass is staunched with the utter sweetness of the stretch in your center. Taehyun presses his hips up into you, slowly and internalizing the dropping open of your mouth, the pinching of your brows into a worrying line, and the press of your palms to his broad chest. He takes it and metabolizes it down like cream cake or the plumpest fruits, and he gives you more. More, all the way up until there is no length of him left to give, and nowhere else for him to go.

You feel so, so full. No amount of twinkling jewels or new skirts hold a candle to this. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know why Taehyun knows, but whatever. Who cares? Breathing out a shudder, you squirm beneath him to search for that dazzling feeling he’d made you feel earlier.

“Stay still,” he barks, steadying himself beside your head with a sturdy, powerful arm. When had he lost his sweater? You don’t know. You might drool over the definition and warm skin there if he didn’t pull the length of him out until just the tip of him threatens to pop out, and then drive right back in before you could. A gaspy breath falls from your mouth, devolving into mewls and whimpers when he does the same over and over and over again, quick with snapping hips and the smacking of his skin against the soft skin of your bottom. Your thigh quivers in his hold, his fingers digging into the fluff of your thigh as he holds you into it.

Each and every time he slides up against something inside you that makes you feel different. Different from what you felt when you were on his thigh, and different from anything else you’ve felt in the entirety of your life. It’s deeper, right at the very bottom of your belly, sending your veins lazy and your hips twitchy. You want to chase it as much as you want to hide from its power, so all you do is stay in a hazy limbo of sharp gasps and long, drawn out mewls for more.

“No,” he says, his face right in yours. The smell of him, manly and so very sweet like oven-warmed gingerbread, settles over your bones and wiggles its way through your thoughts. It does something to your melted mind, planting a need to cling to him right in the center. Your hands perch all over him: the hair at the back of his head, his working waist, his biceps that flex and strain with his effort, and finally around him so that you can push your cheek to his chest and feel his heart racing there. “You’ll take exactly what I give, and thank me for it. You don’t get to ask for more; not with your mouth.”

“Why?” you say, whining. “I want it—so bad. Please? I’ll be so… so good…” Your voice bounces with each collision of your bodies, and your toes flex and curl at the twisting in your core. Nonetheless, you want more. Whatever this is—this syrupy, pure goodness—Taehyun has shown you something that you will never be whole without again. He has bloomed a flower right in the chest of you, something hungry that will want and want this, and you fear that he will be the only one able to satiate it.

The thought of the smile he’ll wear, should you come crawling back to his doorstep just for this…

Taehyun stops, pushing off you with a curled lip. “What will it take to get you to fucking listen?” he says. He pulls himself from you, leaving you to whine and long for that feeling once more. You want to complain and pull him back over you, but with the fire churning in his dark gaze and the sight of his length, covered in that same white, whipped stuff you’d left all over his thigh.

You’d made a sticky, frosty, frothed mess all over him once again. Really, what would people think of you now? Your mom? Your dad?

Manhandling you again, he flips you onto your hands and knees and shoves your face into the bed. Any yelp or gasp that tears from your chest is muffled into the sheets. Taking the swell of your hips, his fingers like bites against the powdery, soft skin there, his voice comes from behind you. “Won’t you just listen to me? If you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna have to start learning how to hear no.” Curling your hair up and pulling it like a handle, he snaps your head back into another stinging, awful tug. It turns the arch of your back into something that you can imagine is a sight to be seen. If the burning where you feel his eyes raking down the curve of it has something to speak of it, that is. You squeeze your eyes shut as if that’ll help you any. “You don’t get everything you want. That’s not how this works.”

You don’t say anything. You have nothing good or sweet left to say.

“Say thank you, and I’ll give it to you good, okay?” he says, running a flattened hand down your spine. “That’s all I want to hear. Show me you can be good.”

The last thing you want to do is to thank him. That would mean admitting that you’ve lost, and that ruffles your preening feathers. But you want that goodness back, you want his hips snapping into you and that tight knot back in your belly. You’d do anything for it; even forget your ego.

Your mind is gone, anyway. Whatever your rational self would do, it doesn’t matter. There’s one thing that you want right now, and getting it is so easy. “Thank you, Taehyun. Thank you so much… I’m sorry I’ve been a brat, and I’m sorry about what I said to you. Please, just… help me. Please, I need you so bad.”

You? Sorry? It’s absurd, and yet, you entirely mean it. Maybe it’s your lazy brain talking, or maybe he really has won.

“See? So sweet when you act right,” he says. “Let me show you what happens when you do.”

You could cry real tears when he sets that same pace, his hands bracing on your hips to pull you deeper into each thrust and the front of your body bouncing against the sheets with each. Your cries grow hoarse and beyond needy, and your insides twist and turn even more dangerously.

You are on the brink of something divine. Something that will melt down so well, good on the tongue and as smooth as chocolate, but as sharp as the snapping of gingerbread.

And, snap, he has.

“Yes!” you cry, straining your shoulders as you reach behind you and curl your fingers around the place where he meets your skin. “S..So good! Right there—thank you, Taehyun!”

He doubles down on you. His length hits a spongy spot in your core, pounding up against the walls there and turning your insides against you. It’s almost too good. “There we go,” he says, voice shaking with a growl. The delivery of his thrusts grows sloppy. You think he feels just as good as you do. “That’s what—” Falling over you, he supports himself with each strong arm dug into the mattress beside your head, his solid front melded to your soft back. “That’s what I like to hear. Here you go—fuck, I’m gonna give you what good girls get, okay?”

You hope it’s more of that melty icing he shot from his length earlier. The knot in your belly tightens, just on the brink of a glittery, bright explosion. “Mhm!” you say, your voice cracking. You want it—you want it so bad. The intensity of it, turning over in your veins and rendering your thighs jelly, sings in your ears. It’s a frightening greatness, but you rage against the urge to drop your hips into the mattress and run from it. You need to finally taste what you’ve been chasing. “Taehyun! Right there—please, don’t stop!”

You were demanding more from him again, but Taehyun didn’t stop this time. Not when his growls and whines against your shoulder tell you enough about how he’s feeling. He tongues and nips at your shoulders, the only sounds echoing off the walls of his room, the hollow smack of his hips against your bottom, and the only smell of the sweet mingling of his gingerbread sharpness against your heady marshmallow. It’s good enough to eat.

Crying out with a frantic whine, the feeling deep in your belly changes once more, and you’re writhing and squirming against him. Your hips buck and chase and run, wild and just as explosively as the tightness shooting down your thighs and up through your lower back.

Everywhere. You feel it everywhere. It’s in the continued bouncing of your body, in each nudge of his tip to a sweet, spongecake spot deep inside you, in his breathless pants into your skin, and in the curling of his fingers into your hair when he releases a hip to do so, and in your pleads when he chases his own delicious release. Your throat tightens, and suddenly the sheets are all too warm around you, and you realize with blistering intensity that another one of those knots builds up in your belly. It’s quicker, short, and bright. You’ve barely even made it through the last, but still, it comes.

“Holy shit,” he growls, hips stuttering and then stilling. He reaches a hand down between your thighs and finds a very sweet button. The breath in your throat catches, and in nothing more than a blink of an eye, you crash again, and then your bodies are two twitching, elated things. He presses himself impossibly deeper into you before shooting that same hotness, sweet ropes of sugary icing right into you, and your fluttering insides hold him tight and eat it up. Your heart pounds in your chest, running amok in your ears and your neck, and you try to catch running breaths to no avail.

Occasionally grinding up into you, though there is hardly any space between your joined bodies to do so, Taehyun shoots more lazy spurts for a few long moments. His breaths slow against your skin, and yours do in your chest. Slowly, you recover as two entangled bodies, all clammy and melted like left in the oven for a bit too long.

Pressing hot, wet kisses to the back of your neck, and then down your spine when he pushes off you and pulls himself out, his tongue darting out against your skin for some, he says, “Taste so good… So sweet, even on your skin…” He brushes the wild tangles of hair from your face and adds, “I wonder if you’ve gone all sweet inside, too? You look like it…” The mess of you, your thick creaminess staining your thighs and his runny load pooling from your hole, is all over. It even makes the sheets beneath you dirty with dribbles of his release as it drips. “I told you I’d get you sweet.”

If that sluggish, sugary thing moving through your veins is sweetness taking over you from the inside, perhaps you have gone sweet. Or, perhaps you now have every reason to become his worst nightmare—just if it gets you this.

You’ll play sweet for now. The softer kisses he seasons your skin with are no less enthralling than the delightful goodness still ebbing away between your thighs. You think that, for the first time, you have lost.

And, to your very own dismay, it tastes so very sweet.

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

✎୭ ashlynn's note BRAT TAMER TAEHUN, amirite?

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wildestdreamsblog · 3 months ago

Text

Might as well be drunk in love: 3 of 3

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: HAPPY HOSEOK'S DAY! We made it! 2/7!!

Part 1, Part 2

Your smile was genuine when you met Kim Taehyung’s eyes.

Unlike the others who were punctual, he was a minute late. He was grinning though like he had a secret he couldn’t wait to share to you.

“You seem happy, Taehyung,” you remarked as you stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking with each heartbeat. With his hands tucked into his pockets, he waited eagerly for you to reach him. The only indication of his bubbling excitement was the way he bounced slightly on his feet. He looked so much lighter in this light, you noticed, the usual darkness in his eyes was nowhere to be found.

He looked truly happy like the sun had decided to shine just for him.

“I am,” he said, his grin widening even more. His eyes sparkled with anticipation. How can he not be happy when you were near? “You’re here with me. With us. How can I not be happy?” he murmured, gently pulling your hand into his and clasping your fingers tightly.

You blinked, surprised by his blatant statement. The potion was indeed so powerful that even the cold Taehyung turned into this kind of person you would want for you own had it been a different circumstance. You thought that whoever he would choose to love after all this fiasco would be the luckiest person.

However, you chose to not dwell on his statement. You were extremely happy with the good news your friend shared with you. There would be a cure soon, and you just knew that you would be nothing to him and all of them after this but a fleeting memory. You decided to hold on for a little while longer, and maybe just lived in the moment where this was a possibility. Sooner rather than later, they would go back to not knowing and caring who you were.

You cleared your throat, “So, where are you taking me?”

Taehyung took a sip from his coffee, the takeout food laid on either side of you on the bench. A smile tugged at your lips at the peculiarity of it all—here was one of the richest men in South Korea, someone with immense influence, choosing to share a simple day in the park with you. It felt surreal, the laughter of children and rustling leaves wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

“This is really good,” he hummed appreciatively, his eyes lighting up as he sampled one of the dishes from the food truck. “And it’s really cheap. I cannot believe those fancy restaurants charge so much when the food is just so-so.”

“Right? Finally, someone from the rich admitted it!” you laughed, your voice mingling with the sounds of the park. “I always wondered if the taste buds of the rich are just inherently different from us. There’s no way you guys are satisfied with those little servings of dishes. Also, is this your first time eating here?”

“Yes…” Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the pond sheepishly. “I always wanted to do this with a girlfriend. You know, those TV dramas show how romantic this is.”

You couldn’t help but grin at his confession and the innocence in his voice. The sincerity of his confession made him endearing, if not more. “So, here we are, living the drama, huh? Too bad you didn’t do this with your real girlfriend.”

He glared at you, his expression mock-serious, before playfully snatching your hand and fully enclosing it with his. “You’re my real girlfriend,” he grumbled childishly, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes.

Your heart raced at the sudden intimacy, warmth flooding through you. “Oh, really? Guess I should start practicing my dramatic sighs and longing gazes then,” you teased, squeezing his hand gently.

“Absolutely,” he said with a grin, his earlier shyness melting away. “I expect nothing less from my leading lady.”

It was a nice lunch out which should have ended as nicely as it started.

But you should have known your wish was too good to be true.

You were walking with him on your way back to the office when he randomly decided to go back and buy his brothers takeout food. He claimed that since he thoroughly enjoyed it, his brothers should too so that they would know just what they were missing. He asked you to wait for a little while before he turned back. And you did. You were contented with scrolling through your social media when you were interrupted.

“Excuse me, miss?” A man called for you, his smile was warm as he looked at you. “May I know what time it is?”

“Oh uhm, it’s 1:37,” you replied, glancing at the screen of your phone.

He thanked you politely before resuming his walk when he abruptly stopped. He chuckled sheepishly, looking at you over his lashes. “I really don’t need to know the time. I’m sorry, I’m really bad at this. You’re just so beautiful –”

“May I help you?” Taehyung’s voice suddenly cut through the air, firm yet protective as he reappeared, a bag of takeout in hand. He stepped in front of you, effectively blocking you from the other man’s view. His face was void of any emotion, yet he managed to terrify the man.

The man straightened, clearly caught off guard. Taehyung’s presence shifted the atmosphere, his expression a mix of confusion and an underlying feeling of intimidation. “Uh, I was just… asking the time,” the man stammered, taking a step back.

Taehyung’s gaze narrowed slightly, a hint of a challenge in his posture. “Right. And now you’ve got the time. Anything else?”

“Man, I’m not looking for any trouble. I-I just really thought she’s single. I meant no harm!” the man protested, his voice shaky.

“Why are you still here?” Taehyung whispered, the sound of irritation was heavy in his tone. “Why are you still looking at my woman?” He asked, the words coming out as a low growl, each syllable deliberate and heavy.

The air between you crackled with tension as the man’s face blanched, realizing he had crossed a line. He raised his hands defensively, backing away further. “I—I didn’t know! Sorry, I just thought—”

“Thought what?” Taehyung pressed, taking a step forward, his stance unwavering. “That it was okay to interrupt her? To make her uncomfortable?” He was too close to the man, his hands closed to a fist as though he was just one look away from exploding. “That you can steal her away from us?!”

How could you ever think that he was something other than the darkness that was caging his heart? How could you ever be so naïve? “Hey, it’s fine. He didn’t bother me at all,” you interjected gently, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated further. “Let’s just let him go.”

Gone was the sweet man you perceived him to be not long ago, and in his place was the darkness you always knew him to be when he slowly turned around after the man swiftly escaped the situation. “Remember this, little one,” he started, his voice grave yet commanding, a blend of promise and threat. “We are the only one for you.”

You couldn't shake off the discomfort that Taehyung's interaction had stirred within you.

You were deep in your thoughts, terror and anxiety in your heart. He was the third in the schedule and you still had four to go. All the interactions you had with the boys so far only made you see the warning signs flashing in your mind. This was a wrong decision. You should have heeded your friend’s warning about spending time with them and avoided skinship as much as possible.

You should have focused on finding the cure. However, you couldn’t just turn your back on them, not when they all acted like they were on their deathbeds as though you were the only cure, badly needing you to take their next breath. The weight of their dependency tugged at your conscience, making it harder to escape the turmoil that surrounded you. Hence, your predicament.

Taehyung’s reaction was too much. The potion was turning them into jealous, possessive men, their natural temperaments amplified into something almost unrecognizable. It had only been three days since the potion had taken effect, yet it seemed to amplify their emotions, turning them into jealous, clingy versions of themselves. You felt a chill run down your spine as you recalled the way his eyes had darkened, how intense his gaze had been, as if he saw you as something he needed to protect at all costs.

Consumed by these unsettling thoughts, you almost forgot about Jungkook entirely. His presence had slipped into the background amidst the chaos Taehyung’s behavior had caused. That is, until the hurried sound of footsteps interrupted your spiral. You turned, startled, to find a group of Jungkook’s guards, their expressions tight with fear. Wide-eyed and breathless, they approached you swiftly, the urgency in their movements sending a wave of panic through you.

“What—what’s happening?” you stammered, confusion mixing with dread.

“Mr. Jeon… he’s not well,” another guard murmured, his tone serious. “It’s bad.”

Your heart sank as the weight of their words hit you. Jungkook was not well. If Taehyung’s possessiveness had shaken you, the thought of Jungkook in a similar state terrified you even more. Without hesitation, you followed them, a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

As you neared his floor, the muffled sounds of destruction reached you—sharp crashes, the unmistakable sound of something heavy being thrown, followed by a guttural, enraged grunt. The noise alone made your skin crawl, but you pushed forward.

“Go in,” one of the guards pleaded, his voice quiet but urgent as you hesitated. You could hear the familiar voices of Jin and Namjoon on the other side of the door, their tones strained as they attempted to calm him.

“Jungkook, breathe,” Namjoon was saying, his voice low, trying to inject calm into the chaos.

“Come on, it’s okay,” Jin added, though the strain in his voice betrayed the calm facade he was trying to maintain. “She’ll be here. She didn’t leave… relax.”

The guard beside you pushed the door open, leaving you no choice but to face your oversight. Suffice to say, the scene before you sent a fresh wave of fear through your body.

Jungkook’s office was a mess. Papers were scattered across the floor, a desk chair lay on its side, and the corner of the large wooden desk had a jagged crack running through it as if something—or someone—had hit it too hard. A shattered vase lay in pieces, its contents scattered across the floor.

In the center of the chaos stood Jungkook. His back was to you, his broad shoulders heaving with labored breaths, fists clenched tightly at his sides. Even from where you stood, you could feel the tension radiating off him like a living thing. His stark, dark hair was disheveled, his usually sharp, precise appearance completely undone by whatever storm was raging inside him.

You knew you caused it. You were aware of you effect on them, but heavens, you didn’t know it to be this bad.

Namjoon was the first to notice you. His draconic eyes, once calm and calculating, now burned with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. The second your startled gaze met his, you saw it—the darkness swirling in him, consuming him. He hadn’t seen you since last night, and the distance had frayed his already strained control. His jaw clenched, muscles tensing as if he were holding himself back from lunging at you. He needed you. Desperately.

But the leader in him fought against the urge, restraining the primal hunger clawing at his insides. He knew he had to hold back—for now. The others needed you just as much as he did. He could wait. He had to wait. His fingers twitched at his sides, betraying the struggle within him.

He could wait until tonight.

He had to.

“Thank God,” Jin breathed when he noticed your presence. He stepped away from Jungkook.

Jungkook’s head snapped up the moment you stepped further into the room. His body froze, as though sensing your presence before even turning to look at you. Slowly, he turned around, and the intensity in his eyes when they locked onto yours was nearly suffocating. His dark eyes, wide with emotion, bore into you, his lips parted slightly as he struggled to catch his breath.

The room went still as Jungkook’s gaze never wavered from you. You could feel the raw intensity behind his eyes, the same kind of possessiveness you had seen in Taehyung but magnified tenfold in Jungkook. It wasn’t just desperation; it was obsession, need, something far more dangerous than mere jealousy.

“You…” he stammered; his voice rough from all the screaming he had done. His words were laced with desperation and disbelief. “Y-you didn’t leave us, Noona?”

The room was too silent as though their stability rested entirely on your next move. You knew you had to thread extremely carefully.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest, your knees locked. You brain was screaming for you to run away from him. “Jungkook,” you whispered, his name fragile on your lips.

It was him who decided for you.

He hated the distance. It gnawed at him, fraying what little control he had left. He took a step forward, his fists still clenched, muscles tense as if he were fighting some invisible restraint. “Don’t leave me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was a command beneath the words. His hands caressed your cheeks and tilted you face to meet his eyes. “You… you can’t leave me. You cannot leave us.”

He didn’t let you leave. And you couldn’t as well, not when he was visibly distraught. Most especially, not when his arms were wrapped around you like a vine. Before you knew it, you were lying on the sofa in his office, Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you like vines, pulling you impossibly close. His body pressed against yours, seeking warmth, seeking comfort. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of his emotions was palpable. His grip on you never loosened, his head buried in the crook of your neck as if he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

The only reassurance he seemed to accept was having you there, physically close to him, where he could feel you, touch you, and know that you hadn’t disappeared. But as comforting as your presence was to him, it left you uncomfortable, stressed by the weight of the situation. Jungkook was too close, his grip too tight, and the intensity of it all made your mind scream for space, for distance. But you couldn’t move—not when each time you tried to shift even slightly, he would hold on tighter, and the quiet, broken sobs would return, muffled against your skin.

Your unlikely savior came at exactly 3 in the afternoon.

Min Yoongi opened the door in a relaxed manner as though he was the owner of the office, his bored eyes finding your form on the sofa. His relaxed demeanor was a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the room. Jungkook hadn’t noticed him yet, but you softly calling Yoongi’s name alerted him of his presence —more a sigh of relief than an actual greeting—it was enough to pull Jungkook’s attention. Yoongi raised his brow at Jungkook, his expression impassive as ever, a silent question if the younger man was finally okay. Jungkook’s only response was the slight untightening of his grip on you. The shift was hesitant, reluctant, but it was there. Slowly, his arms loosened, though his body still remained close, not quite ready to let you go entirely. His possessiveness had dulled, but it was far from gone.

Yoongi’s gaze softened when he turned it back to you, his expression warm and unexpectedly gentle. He knew what you had endured, the strain it had caused you, and for once, the sharp edges in his usually indifferent demeanor softened into something close to tenderness.

"Good afternoon, darling," Yoongi said in his low, easy drawl, a hint of amusement dancing behind his words. “I’ve come to save you.”

Yoongi knew how overwhelming and overstimulating things could be sometimes. For the life of him and despite the instincts screaming in his head to have you close, he chose to silently walk beside you. You had been through enough for today.

You didn’t even question where the two of you were going. It was like all the energy you had was drained from you. You were silent even as he closed the car door for you, was speechless even when he expertly drove away from the building. Min Yoongi was just exactly what you needed after the conundrum being with Jungkook brought.

“I know it was tough,” Yoongi said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you two. His voice was low, steady, as though he had been waiting for the right moment to speak. His hands gripped the steering wheel loosely, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but you could feel the weight of his attention on you. Even without looking at you, Yoongi had this uncanny ability to make you feel seen, like he was always aware of what you needed before you even realized it yourself. “But still, thank you for calming him down.”

The soft hum of the car filled the space, and though you didn’t respond immediately, you knew Yoongi didn’t expect you to. From the short time that you were with them, you noticef that he had always been like that—patient, never pushing you to speak before you were ready. His quiet understanding was something that set him apart. There was no rush with him, no urgency to force words or explanations from you. Just his presence, calm and grounding, allowing you to gather your thoughts.

You nodded slowly, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. The memory of Jungkook’s desperate grip on you, the way he had refused to let you go, still lingered, and it was too raw to put into words. But Yoongi didn’t push. He never did. He was just… there, giving you the space to process, to breathe. “I owe it to all of you. This was all my fault…”

Yoongi’s gaze shifted toward you, and for a moment, he looked at you as though you’d just said something utterly ridiculous. His brow furrowed, and the corners of his lips tilted into a frown of disbelief. Then, with a sigh, he shook his head. “This isn’t your fault. How could you have known? Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Min Yoongi was just the reprieved you needed. Where the others seemed consumed by their need for you, Yoongi remained steady, unaffected by the storm raging around them.

He took you home and told you that he already took care of your supervisor and said that you were needed for a meeting. A wave of gratitude washed over you, and you couldn’t help the small, tired smile that tugged at your lips. You didn’t know how to thank him properly, but it seemed Yoongi didn’t need grand gestures. His way of caring was quiet and understated, but it spoke volumes.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, but Yoongi’s small nod told you he heard it.

Your schedule with him was calm, much like his demeanor. The kitchen felt like a small sanctuary, the aroma of garlic and herbs wafting through the air as you chopped vegetables together. The music of your choice filled the space, a playful backdrop to the evening.

You smiled to yourself, caught up in the moment. Suddenly, a chuckle broke your reverie. You turned to see him shaking his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Bad Romance by Lady Gaga?” he teased, but there was no edge to his words—just a warm acceptance of your quirky taste. You shrugged, a grin spreading across your face. It felt domestic, this shared moment, and you savored it. And yes, Bad Romance was truly a banger song.

But then, the atmospere shifted. Lost in thought, you almost missed his sudden remark. “I heard from Hoseok that your friend found a cure for the love potion.” His voice was steady, almost indifferent, yet you caught the tension in the way he gripped the counter, knuckles whitening against the cool surface. His eyes were focused on his task, a deliberate action on his part.

You nodded, surely this was good news for them, right?

“That’s…good.”

It did not sound like it was good. You considered asking him, pressing for clarity, but you hesitated. This was Yoongi, after all. He wasn’t a man who wore his emotions on his sleeve, and pushing too hard might cause him to withdraw further. But your instinct, the one that had kept you grounded in moments like this, told you to be careful. You trusted him, both him and Seokjin, but trust was a fragile thing—especially when it came to the men who surrounded you.

After you two finished cooking, he found you sitting on the sofa, mindlessly searching for what to watch when he lied down, his head resting on your legs. You looked down, surprised but not displeased. You noted how he refrained from physically touching you the past hour, his control and thoughtfulness of your situation did not go unnoticed by you. “I tried to hold off as long as I could,” he murmured, his eyes drifting closed as he settled in.

You chuckled softly, brushing a hand through his dark hair. “Thank you for being considerate, Yoongi.” The weight of his head on your lap felt grounding, a connection that made the world outside seem distant.

It was five in the afternoon when you decided to freshen up. The entire day, despite it being only being afternoon, left you exhausted. It wasn’t just the physical exhaustion that clawed at you; it was the emotional toll of navigating conversations that felt more like tightrope walks than exchanges. Each word had to be measured, each response carefully calculated. It was like it would only take one wrong word for them to crumble. Each of them just as needy as the others.

It did not come as a surprise when you stepped out of the bathroom and found the one and only Park Jimin in your bedroom. His head was hanging low as he sat on your bed, his form slouched as he stared down. Gone was his suit, and his necktie hung loosely around his collar as though he had spent the entire day tugging at it.

“Jimin?”

Slowly, he looked up. His dark eyes were impassive, the usual glint gone. He looked so far from the sweet persona he usually had, and in his place was a man that was emitting dangerous vibes. “Little one,” he called, his voice low and toneless. “I heard your...” he trailed off, his scoffed a telltale sign of what exactly he was feeling. “-friend found us a cure.”

You blinked owlishly, caught off guard with how displeased he looked. He raised his brow at your prolonged silence, “What’s wrong, honey?” He stood up and sauntered to you, his faux concern so thick that you could almost choke at it. “All seven of us are sick from that love potion, right? So it’s only correct that we get the ‘cure’, right?”

You looked up to meet his eyes as he neared you, his chest almost touching yours from his proximity. “Are we sick to you, little one?”

“I—” you started, your heart beating fast from his line of questioning. The intensity of his line of questioning made your pulse quicken. He tilted his head, his finger catching droplets of water that had escaped from your hair, trailing slowly down your neck.

“Hmm? You what?” His voice was low, teasing yet laced with something darker.

“I just want you all to return to your normal life,” you answered truthfully. “I know everything happening is not normal for any of you. Your life does not involve around…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “This chaos. You deserve to be free.”

He paused with his ministration, his hand hovering near your chest. A flicker of something crossed his face and you failed to decipher whether it was from amusement or annoyance. He stepped even impossibly closer. He looked down at you and whispered something that terrified you. “Did you ask us if we want to go back to how it was? Little one, did you even ask if we need a cure?”

Involuntarily, your foot took a step back. The weight of his words came crushing down on you. You were shaking your head even before he could finish saying his piece. You thought that it was a ridiculous thought anyway. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Park Jimin. None of what you’re all feeling is real,” you implored him, willing his true self to understand what you were saying, and not the version of himself that was ‘in love’ with you. “This potion-it’s not who you are.”

His gaze held steady, dark and penetrating as though what you said set off something in him…something they all tried so hard to contain. “And what will you do if this is who we want to be? What if we want these versions of ourselves that are so utterly in love with you, little one? What then?”

You felt your breath hitched at every word and expose he was telling you. “But it’s a lie. You can’t love something or someone that’s been forced upon you. This isn’t love. You have to know that.”

It was a little while before he even responded again as silence enveloped the room. The only indication that he heard you was that subtle tilt in his head. “I see you still see all this as lovesickness and not destiny.”

“Because it is!” you insisted, the desperation for him to see the truth made your voice rose. “You can’t really believe that this is meant to be!”

Jimin shook his head, strands of his hair cascading on his forehead, breaking the carefully gelled up appearance of his. “You’ll get sick, too,” he whispered as though it was an omen, as though foretelling a fate that even you couldn’t comprehend.

But you would later on.

You heard him wrong…right? There was no way he said that.

“What?” The word came out as breathless gasp, disbelief flooding your senses.

He smiled innocently, the sudden playfulness in his expression felt like a mask. “Let me dry your hair before you get sick, little one.” His tone may have seemed so casual, yet it sent a shiver down your spine. You knew you couldn’t talk sense into him, not when the seven of them were neck-deep in the effects of that love potion. Furthermore, you knew that insisting that what they were all feeling was far from reality would only leave them feeling abandoned by the supposedly love of their lives: you. You couldn’t make them see reason, at least not now.

Right now, the only way to calm down the simmering annoyance and angst in him was to let him do what he wanted to do. Jimin was gentle and thorough as he dried your hair, his touch so soft as though you were made of porcelain, something he feared might shatter.

“See how good I take care of you, little one? How good we all treat you?” he murmured, his voice particularly low and soothing as he worked the towel through your damp locks.

You felt your heart ache at the sincerity in his words, even if they were colored by the potion’s influence. “Jimin…” you started, but the protest caught in your throat as he leaned in closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. He met your eyes through the mirror, his chin resting on your shoulder and rush of warmth and happiness passed through him. He fucking loved you, he thought to himself as an even fiercer conviction took root. You would see it soon.

“You are our queen, my love,” he continued with fierce intensity. “Don’t you see?”

But if this was love, then it felt like a prison to you. The sensation of his arms wrapped around you felt less like an embrace and more like shackles, binding you to a reality that terrified you. The walls felt as if they were closing in, the weight of his affection pressing down on your chest. You felt it even more when he placed his plump lips on your neck.

“And we will always sacrifice everything for our queen.”

As soon as the clock hit 7 in the evening, you tore yourself away from his embrace and ran down to the living room, already typing down on your phone to call for a meeting with the boys when you saw them already sitting there. They seemed to be in a deep conversation, their voices low and their faces serious. Sitting in the middle of them all was Kim Namjoon who had his eyes closed and his head resting against the backrest of the sofa. He looked similar to how he was when he trapped you in the elevator. He almost seemed to be sleeping had it not been the slight tremors in his hands that gave it away.

It was as though they were attuned to your presence when they all turned their heads to where you were, sans Namjoon, their conversation coming into a halt. It was eerie, you thought. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the synchronized movement, as if they were all part of some unsettling choreography.

“There she is,” Hoseok said brightly his face lighting up with a happiness that seemed almost out of place in the tense atmosphere. On his lap was your cat who was sporting a new collar. And was that gold?! “How was your day, little one?”

“We need to talk.”

“Uh-oh,” Taehyung plainly commented, his hand absentmindedly playing with Jungkook’s hair. His carefree gesture was a complete contrast to the seriousness in his face. “I already don’t like this.”

“Park Jimin, what did you do now?” Yoongi quipped, raising an eyebrow as he caught sight of the mentioned man entering the living room behind you. There was a teasing lilt in his voice, but the underlying concern was palpable.

Jimin smirked, holding your hand briefly when he passed you and sat down beside the quiet Namjoon. “Nothing. I just…dried her hair.”

Jin shook his head, shooting the maknae line a look of disappointment. He just knew that they did something today. Afterall, he thought that the younger men didn’t know the meaning of control and working in the shadows. He would talk to them later. They should have known how much of a flight risk you were. They were just banking on the kindness of your heart and how they used it to play with your conscience. It was that and Namjoon and Hoseok’s tactics that got you here, after all. They should all play smartly if they wanted this to last forever. And for now, making you happy was the way to that. He stood up and walked to you. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I heard from Hoseok that there is a cure. Is this about it, my love?”

“Let’s hear it then, noona,” Jungkook said with a smile on your face. It was a deceitful smile, you noted to yourself. How he could turn his playfulness and innocence on and off was terrifying, and the evidence of it was staring right at your face. You looked down and saw his bandaged hand from the breakdown from earlier.

Yoongi offered you an encouraging smile and you were only too thankful for his quiet support. You didn’t think twice to sit when he tapped down the empty space beside him. “A-as you all know, my friend’s grandmother knows of a cure in the mountains-”

Taehyung’s sharp scoffed interrupted you. “You’re tired of taking care of your mess when it’s only been a day?” His tone may be playful, but there was an edge to it.

You took a dee breath, “I know this is all difficult for all of us. But if she knows something, if there is even a small chance that there is really a cure, then shouldn’t we go for it? If this can help-”

“Help us?” Jimin interjected, his tone softer but laced with frustration. “Help us how? By running off to the mountains while we’re all here struggling with these feelings?”

“And how will we even know that you’ll come back to us?” Hoseok added, his anger bubbling to the surface. “What if you just leave?” he voiced the heavy question everyone in the room had been thinking about, not that they would let you, anyway.

The atmosphere grew tense, and you could feel the weight of their accusations pressing down on you. “It isn’t fair,” you retorted, your voice trembling slightly.

“Well, it was never fair to the seven of us,” Taehyung shot back, his tone sharp. “We were minding our own business when your negligence caused us this situation. You are to blame, and all you want is to escape from it.”

You could no longer take all the blamings, you realized. You were not the only one to blame in this, right? You were just as victim as they were! And the oldest should also share the blame! “But he knew!”

Seokjin blinked owlishly, attention now on him as you pointed your finger at him. “Knew what?”

“You knew that that pink tumbler wasn’t yours! You said so yourself that you knew it wasn’t yours because yours had coffee in it! You knew and you kept on drinking!”

“Ah, right” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he offered sheepish looks at the other CEOs who were all looking at him with seriousness and disbelief in their eyes. “What? It was delicious, right?!”

“Well, yeah it was,” Yoongi approved, his voice low. He looked like he was already long done with this conversation with the way he was leaning against the backrest and you knew with just one push he would already be lying down and dozing off. However, his attention was still on you as he played with the strands of your hair.

“So, if you are all blaming me, shouldn’t you put blame on him, too? He offered you the drink knowing that it wasn’t his! And he didn’t tell you all!”

Jungkook nodded, completely agreeing at whatever you were saying as long as you kept talking. Your voice was melody to his ears, like a siren, he thought. If he was a cartoon, you were sure that he’d already have heart coming out of his eyes from the way he was looking at you. He was giggling like a child, his chin resting on his palm, his body turned to you. “You’re right, noona. It’s Jin hyung’s fault. We should kick him out of the house or exchange him for ice cream…Speaking of! What’s your favorite flavor, my love?”

“Fine! Then sue me! Arrest me! But lock me with her forever!” Seokjin exclaimed dramatically, throwing his hands in the air.

“Seokjin, for the love of all that’s good-“

“I love it when you call me that,” he said with sincerity in his voice.

“I literally just called you your name!” you shot back in exasperation.

“Yes. That. I love it.”

“Oh my God, we’re getting off track!” You exclaimed in frustration. “The cure. It’s worth pursuing, don’t you all think? Isn’t that why I’m here in the first place? To alleviate the effects of the love potion?”

You knew you had them when they looked at each other in silence. “And what’s more alleviating than actually freeing us all from the effects of that potion?” you continued, your voice steady, determined. “If we have a chance to break this spell—if we can find a way to return to our normal lives—shouldn’t we take it?”

“You’re not going alone. We are coming with you,” Kim Namjoon broke his silence for the first time that night. You couldn’t help but notice the strain in his voice despite the firm way he delivered his demand, a telltale sign that he needed you now. It was already past seven, and he was the last one in the schedule. It was already way past his schedule, and he had been patient and enduring enough. He just knew that anytime now he would break. He opened his eyes, and his gaze locked onto yours, “Tomorrow. We go to the mountains.”

Before anyone could respond, he stood up swiftly, his long legs carrying him away from the eruption of chaos and disagreement that erupted from his statement. The others began to voice their objections, a flurry of protests filling the room.

Yet, he never stopped.

“You know you have to come to him, right, noona?” Jungkook said amidst the chaos. “Namjoon hyung is suffering…”

“He has been patient,” Hoseok added, admiring the strength and resolved that their lead CEO had. “But he needs you, too.”

The walk to his room was long despite the reasonable distance. It must have been because of the rapid beating of your heart as you walked to the unknown. The six of them all showed their dark side, the possessive, obsessive and jealous side that terrified you. You wondered what the last member would show you tonight.

But they were right.

Despite your fear and restlessness, you had to honor your responsibility with them.

Your knuckles had barely grazed his door when it opened from the inside, revealing the disheveled lead CEO.

Kim Namjoon was breathing hard despite the cool air inside his room. The usually composed lead CEO looked disheveled and visible exhausted. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, strands of his dark hair tousled as if his fingers had raked through them in frustration. He had already donned out his dark suit, his white and crisp shirt was unbuttoned. His muscular chest was glistening with sweat. Your eyes traced his form and found him barefooted.

This was as unmade as you ever witnessed him to be.

You were right, you realized. Kim Namjoon suffered the most today as he was the last one in the schedule. The way he was looking at you made it seemed like you were nothing to him but a prey, one that he had been desperately hunting the whole day. His silence only made you more tensed. "Namjoon," you began softly, concern evident in your voice as you stepped closer despite wanting to run away. "Are you alright?"

Instead of a reassuring answer, his demeanor shifted. His answer was pulling you inside his lair. His movements were quick. Desperate. Frantic. The sound of lock clicking loudly in the quiet of the room. This wasn't the controlled man you were accustomed to—this was someone else entirely, someone driven by raw instinct and need.

Every step he took towards you was a step you took backwards. He was sauntering to you like a predator would, his movements slow and deliberate like someone who knew had you trapped. His muscles were tensed like he was barely holding onto his control. His eyes, usually so warm, now bore into you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the tension radiating from him, his body coiled like a spring about to snap. You had an inkling that he wasn’t okay, but you never expected him to be this intense, this desperate.

"N-Namjoon, please," you stammered, your concern growing as his presence overwhelmed you, "You’re not okay. Let me get some help, okay?"

He scoffed softly, a sound that dripped with frustration and desire. The truth was plain to see—he wasn't just physically spent; there was something deeper unsettling him, something that demanded your presence, your touch, as if you were the anchor he desperately needed.

He knew if he didn’t have you in his arms in the next second, then he would truly lose it. He was desperate for you. And so, for the first time ever, he damned the consequences.

“Take off your clothes.”

“What?! No-“

“I need to feel your skin or I will fucking lose it, little one,” he gritted, his hands formed into fists in an attempt to ground him. He didn’t want to scare you, that was the last thing he wanted.

But he was scaring himself. The dizzying need for you was terrifying him. Dark thoughts were swirling in his mind: all of them were of losing you. He didn’t know what would happen if they lost you. He didn’t know what they would be capable of if you had someone else.

The only thing that could calm him down was you. But you were stubborn, weren’t you? He saw your eyes darted to the door behind him, assessing the probability that you could escape him. It wouldn’t happen, he was certain. Not in the state he was in.

“Don’t,” he whispered with a shake of his head. “Don’t test me tonight, little one. I am barely holding it in.”

“You’re scaring me,” you whispered in admittance, your eyes begging him to be sane, to at least reach the Namjoon inside him that knew this was a grey area.

He paused in front of you. he was breathing hard and his eyes seemed to be all dark. His voice was low as he explained his need for you and his promise that the two of you would only be sleeping.

Tonight, he claimed that you would be safe.

“I won’t ask again, little one,” he whispered as he looked down at you. “Remove your clothes and get on the bed.”

“And we’ll just sleep?”

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

He nodded. What he didn’t tell you was how he wasn’t sure if you could still be safe from the monsters you woke up inside them tomorrow. But that was tomorrow’s problem.

His eyes followed your every reluctant movement as you walked near to his bed. This was all so sudden, and the darkness of the room didn’t help you observe his personality that was reflected in his room. However, you were thankful for the darkness because it gave you the courage to do as he bade without the full weight of his gaze on you. Shadows danced across the walls and with a shaky breath, you finally sat on the edge of the bed, the sheets soft and inviting beneath you. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains, seemed to wrap around you like a comforting shroud. It was easier to let the shadows obscure your uncertainties.

You began to remove your shirt, your heart racing as you felt his eyes on you, the intensity palpable. The fabric slipped away, leaving you feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated.

“The shorts, little one,” he ordered quietly, his eyes still on you as he shrugged of his white shirt. He raised his brows when a flicker of stubbornness crossed your face, a silent warning that he was at the very edge of a cliff. With shaky hands, you pushed off your shorts before quickly getting under his thick blanket, hiding your exposed skin from his eyes.

Your heard the buckle of his belt coming undone, and the sound of zipper following next was too loud in the silence of his room which made you shut your eyes closed. But the prolonged silence made you take a peek. And there he was. He was stalking to you, his muscular chest bared for your eyes, his thighs so thick and strong. The only thing he still had on was his black boxers that leave nothing to the imagination.

You shrieked when he got on the bed confidently and flipped the blanket to the side, baring your body to him, both his arms encasing you as he hovered above you.

“N-Namj–” your words left you when he settled his weight on you, every ridges and corners of his body was touching you. His nose was on your neck, breathing in your scent. His hands moved from the side of your head down to your wrist, and everything he touched left goosebumps on your skin. “Don’t fight this,” he whispered as he pulled your wrist above your head and kept them prisoned there.

“Y-you told me we’re just going to sleep,” you reminded him, your voice shaking slightly as you felt the heat radiating from Namjoon’s body. The tension in the air felt electric, and your heart raced.

“I told you. You are safe with me tonight.”

His hard member certainly did not make you feel safe. You could feel his hardness poking your stomach, and you were no saint to not know what it meant. You were certainly not that innocent to not be affected by this. You were embarrassed with how you could feel your arousal seeping to your underwear, and you hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

You jumped when you felt his tongue swiped at the expanse of your neck. You were trying to free yourself away from his hold when he nipped at your skin, sucking at it hard enough to know that it was going to leave a mark. All the while, his hips were slowly thrusting to you as though he was barely holding onto his thin control.

“Do you not feel safe, little one?” he taunted, his voice deeper than you ever heard of him. He lifted his head from your neck, his dark eyes glinting with something akin to an animalistic desire to have you. “Is the pleasure too much for you?” he asked in faux concern before thrusting his clothed cock directly to your heat. And by heavens, a moan escaped you. “Or is it not enough?”

“F-fuck, Namjoon- please!” you gasped as his hand pinched your nipple over your bra. His lips hovered over yours, so impossibly close that you knew one wrong movement was enough to make yours touched his. His cock was brutal as he humped you.

“Don’t you feel safe with the desires you are feeling?” he whispered directly to your ear, his hot breath leaving tingles down your spine. “Don’t you feel safe with just one cock? Do you want me to call the six of them? I bet they’d be happy to make you come. I know Yoongi does.”

“S-stop!”

He chuckled, his thrust stopping altogether. “Little one, you’re free. You can push me anytime you want. But you don’t want to, do you?”

It was only when he pointed it out that you realized he was no longer holding you down. In fact, he hadn’t for a while. You were too drunk with the sinful desire and his primal need to be with you that you didn’t notice that you had the choice to push him away.

And the horrifying realization that you deliberately didn’t want him to stop came crashing in.

“Don’t you just want to give in? I promise…no one will know. It’s just the two of us,” he whispered seductively, his breath warm against your skin. The way his words wrapped around you felt almost hypnotic, stirring something deep within. “Turn that mind off, darling. You’re so fucking wet,” he growled sensually. “I can feel your wetness in my thighs. You deserve this, little one. You deserve to be worship. All you need to do is to move.”

Your heart raced at the intensity of his gaze, each word wrapping around you like a vice. There was a part of you that yearned to give in, to surrender to the pull between you.

And you did.

Your hips lifted slightly to meet his, and it was all he needed before he rutted on you, the control he had snapped like a twig when you took the first step. You could feel you were getting close, his movements were all unforgiving and sensual.

“See?” he growled, his voice low and intense, sending shivers down your spine. “I just want to take care of you, little love. We all just want to give you all you desire.” He stepped closer, the heat radiating off him like a tangible force, drawing you in. “I told you. You are safe with me. But you aren’t safe from your own desires.”

You could feel something hot, something with urgency. And it wasn’t long until you shuddered, you trashed with your back arched. And just like clockwork, Namjoon’s warm essence spurted out and onto his boxers.

“That’s it, little one. Good girl.”

And as he held your body in his arms that night, he lied awake with thoughts of how to keep you. You were so beautiful. And perfect for him. You were perfect for them. He was sure that all of his brothers were thinking of the same thing: how to keep you forever.

Day 4, morning

It didn’t come as a surprise when he woke up and found you gone, nor did it come as a surprise when you couldn’t meet his eyes when he came down early in the morning ready to leave for the mountains. Seokjin, ever the observant, noticed the tension between the two of you. Actually, it was more so from you as you tried your very best to stick with who you thought was the safest among the seven, Seokjin and Yoongi.

Seokjin, with his soft smile and easygoing charm, had managed to pull the wool over your eyes. How could you have known that Seokjin was a wolf in a sheep’s clothing while Yoongi was only patient until he wasn’t? How could you have known that they were truly far from who you thought they were?

The maknae line were already waiting by the door, talking animatedly among themselves as though all of you were just going to the mountains for a fun fieldtrip and not for the love potion cure.

It was Hoseok that broke the silence, “How was your sleep, little one?”

“G-good,” you stammered, your eyes lifting to meet the lead CEO’s gaze, only to find him already looking back at you with an intensity that made your heart race. You quickly looked down, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “L-let’s go? It’s quite a far drive.”

You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the knot of tension in your stomach. The closer you got to the mountains, the more real the journey felt, and the more daunting the implications of finding a cure. You turned to Namjoon, who stood nearby, arms crossed and expression unreadable. “Are we ready?”

It took him a moment to answer, as though weighing your question with care, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt too heavy for casual conversation. The air between you felt thick, charged with something unspoken, and the silence stretched on, longer than it should have. “Always ready,” he replied, though the weight of his gaze suggested he had more on his mind than just the drive ahead.

You sat quietly the whole journey. The feeling of freedom was so near, yet the implications of what happened the past three days weighed down on you. You knew things could never go back the way it was. You knew you had to leave your job and move someplace else. Despite the possibility of a cure, you knew that everything that transpired was far more complex that a simple remedy couldn’t fix.

You glanced around the van, taking in the familiar faces of the men who had turned your world upside down. This was probably one of the last times you’d be in their proximity, and that thought sent a shiver down your spine. You felt both relieved and terrified at the prospect.

It was as though Seokjin, the designated driver, could hear your thoughts. He glanced up into the rearview mirror and met your eyes, concern flickering in his expression. “You okay back there?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with something deeper, an awareness of your internal struggle.

You offered a small smile, not quite reaching your eyes. “I’m good,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You looked down at the address your friend gave you. The mountains loomed in the distance; their imposing silhouettes framed by a clear blue sky. You could hear the faint rustle of leaves in the cool breeze, a stark contrast to the tension that had built up during the drive.

Namjoon was off to the side, deep in conversation with an elderly man. You couldn’t help but catch snippets of their dialogue—words like “cure” and “love potion” floated through the air, drawing your attention. You watched as the man gestured toward a narrow, winding path leading deeper into the woods.

After a few moments, Namjoon turned back to you, a satisfied smile on his face. “We have to walk. The car cannot pass through,” he shared the information with the group.

You nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and excitement. “How far is it?”

“Not too far, just a little hike,” he assured you, though his eyes held a glimmer of seriousness. “Are you ready?”

Taking a deep breath, you glanced at the rest of the group, who had gathered around. The maknae line looked eager, bouncing on their feet as if they were about to embark on a thrilling quest. Yoongi leaned against a tree, his expression contemplative, while Seokjin was busy checking the supplies they brought along.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “Let’s do this.”

It was almost an hour into the hike, and your little group was nearing the top when you saw it. “That must be it,” Hoseok said, pointing excitedly at the small house perched on the summit. It looked quaint, surrounded by trees and flowers, with smoke curling from the chimney, hinting at warmth and life within. For a moment, the sight was serene—peaceful even. But there was something about it that made your skin prickle, a sense of wrongness you couldn’t quite shake. The beauty of it felt... too perfect. Like an illusion meant to distract. A narrow pathway led to a flight of stairs, and just as you felt a rush of exhilaration, a pained gasp broke the tranquility.

You turned around to see Jungkook wincing, his hand clutching his ankle. “Jungkook!” you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He was sitting on the ground, his face contorted in pain, his doe eyes looking up at you as though he was asking for help. Beside him, Jimin crouched down, his innocent-looking face betraying none of the tension in the air. He looked concerned, but there was something about the calmness in his expression that made you pause—something about the way he was sitting too still, too perfectly for the situation at hand. How he hurt himself when the path was no longer steep like before, nor was the ground slippery was lost on you. You foolishly thought that you were out of the danger zone.

"Jungkook!" you repeated, kneeling beside him, your voice trembling with concern. "What happened?”

“I think I twisted it,” he admitted, his voice strained. “It hurts so bad, noona. P-please stay with me.”

You blinked at his request, your heart aching at the sight of him so vulnerable, but a wave of doubt swept over you. You had to make a decision, and fast. The cure was still ahead of you, and the house at the summit was growing nearer with every step you’d taken. But now, Jungkook was down, and his injury looked serious.

You glanced around, unsure what to do. You could stay with him, of course, but you weren’t the only one in the group, and there were others who might be able to help him. Maybe someone else should stay with him while you continued on to the house? Just as you were about to ask Taehyung, Namjoon stepped near you and interrupted your thoughts.

“Stay with Jungkook,” Namjoon urged you, glancing back at the house. “We can take care of the cure. Don’t worry.”

You hesitated, torn between the urgency of reaching the house and your concern for Jungkook. His face was twisted in pain, and you felt a pang of guilt for even considering leaving him. But the reassuring nod from Seokjin was enough to convince you that the men could handle the cure without you.

“Okay,” you finally said, your voice steadying. “I’ll stay here with Jungkook.”

As you knelt beside him, your focus solely on his ankle, you completely missed the meaningful look shared between Taehyung and Yoongi, a silent conversation that hinted at something more.

“Just take a deep breath, Jungkook,” you said, gently placing a hand on his knee. “Let’s see if we can wrap this up.”

The six men trudged up the pathway leading to the small house in companiable silence when Seokjin suddenly stopped, halting the progress of the six men following him. They were almost near the house that his sudden pause caused confusion to the maknae line. It was a moment before he turned to face the group.

“Hyung?” Jimin asked, his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Seokjin and Yoongi shared a meaningful look, their jaws set in stone and expression serious. “Taehyung and Jimin, I think you should stay guard here,” he said, his voice low and firm.

“Hyung, what if you need us there-”

Namjoon, who was quick to notice the peculiar seriousness in their eldest placed a reassuring hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and faced him. He flashed him a dimpled smile as though assuring him that everything was fine. “I think what hyung means is that this way, you can look out for little one and Jungkook.”

He tilted his head slightly, catching sight of you and Jungkook, a little ways down the path, peering curiously at the house.

“Don’t worry, we can handle this,” Hoseok assured the two age-mate with his charm. He gave a playful nudge to Taehyung as he stepped past them, confidence radiating from his every move. “Just keep an eye out, okay?”

With that, Hoseok entered the house, the door creaking softly behind him. The rest of the older members followed, leaving the maknae line standing in the fading light.

You didn’t have to wait long before the six of them descended the path, their expressions were mixed of triumph and satisfaction, and something that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It wasn’t even that long when the six of them walked down to you. Yoongi led the way, a confident stride in his step, and in his hand was a small bottle filled with a shimmering pink liquid.

Your heart raced as you caught sight of it. “Is that—?”

“It’s the cure, little one,” he confirmed, holding it up to the light. The liquid sparkled, catching the sun in a way that made it almost mesmerizing, almost tantalizing, almost too hypnotic that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it.

You felt your heart leap in your chest. The weight of the world seemed to lift off your shoulders, and a wave of disbelief rushed through you. You could barely comprehend it, but there it was. “We’re free…” you said with disbelief in your tone. You were too happy that you jumped up and hugged Jungkook. “I cannot believe it!”

“Well, almost, little one,” Namjoon said, his expression shifting to something more serious. “We’ll take it at home where we can safely observe the effects. We can’t risk anything happening here.”

The words hit you like a splash of cold water. For a moment, the excitement faltered, and a small knot of worry tugged at your stomach. You had been so caught up in the euphoria of it all that you hadn’t stopped to consider the reality of it. There were still risks, still unknowns.

“Aren’t you just a little too excited about leaving us, little one?” His words were offhanded, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something you couldn’t quite place.

Your eyes darted to him, surprised by the sudden comment. Jimin’s gaze was still fixed on his nails, as though the conversation were of no consequence to him. But there was a subtle tension around him, something in his posture that didn’t quite sit right.

Instead of dwelling too much in what he was enunciating, you decided to face Namjoon. “Right, of course,” you said, stepping back from Jungkook and if you noticed the reluctant way he let go of you, you didn’t mention. You rationalized that they were still under the influence of the potion. You just had to hold on a little bit more.

Seokjin clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. “Then let’s get moving! The sooner we’re back, the sooner we can celebrate properly.”

The ride back to the civilization was filled with different vibes, it was quiet yet there was a profound peace within the group. This time, it was Jungkook who was driving while Taehyung was in the front seat with him. Seated next to you was Yoongi who was quietly contented in engulfing your hand in his, both your hands resting on his thighs. On your other side was Hoseok who was uncharacteristically quiet until he caught you looking at him.

“J-Jin, this is a lot,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you took in the lavish spread laid out on the table. Plates piled high with vibrant dishes, each one more mouthwatering than the last, sparkled under the soft glow of the lights. It was hard to believe he had managed to prepare all this while looking like he just stepped off a magazine cover.

“I want to celebrate us,” Jin replied, his smile warm and genuine.

You blinked owlishly, caught off guard. Us? What did he mean by that?

“You know, how we…survived this.” His eyes sparkled with sincerity, but confusion washed over you. You opened your mouth to ask him to elaborate, to clarify what “us” really meant, when suddenly, Taehyung appeared beside you. He leaned in so close that his lips almost brushed your ear, his voice teasingly conspiratorial.

“Hyung is so dramatic. He wants to do a big toast before drinking the cure.”

You missed the look the two men shared over your head when Jimin walked in and tugged you to sit next to him and Yoongi. “Come on, little one. I’m starving.”

One by one, the four other men took their seats around the beautifully set table. Directly across from you was Taehyung who was watching you intently, and beside him were Hoseok and Jungkook. On the other end of the table was Namjoon, manspreading like a king sitting in his throne. Seokjin moved gracefully around the table, setting down seven glasses that glinted like jewels, each filled with the pink liquid of the cure slushing around with every step. Your breath caught slightly as he approached, and when he stopped behind you, leaning down close, a shiver ran through you.

“And of course, for the lady. Only the best of wines,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You turned slightly, catching a glimpse of his serious and dark expression before he straightened, and just like that, he transformed it into a sweet smile that lit up the room. You wondered if it was just the light playing tricks on you.

“Hyung, ready for the toast?” Jungkook asked, his eyes on you even as he directed his question to Namjoon.

“I think it should be our little one that we ask,” Yoongi spoke for the first time that night, his tone unexpectedly serious. He turned to you, his eyes piercing through the moment, as if trying to read your thoughts. “Are you ready for what comes next?”

You felt a knot form in your stomach, a mixture of excitement and anxiety churning inside you. “Are you ready… for the rest of your life, love?” Taehyung voiced, his expression uncharacteristically solemn as he toyed with his glass, tracing the rim with his fingertip.

You blinked owlishly, wondering why there were too many questions from them as though they were asking something else. But they weren’t, right? They weren’t implying anything more, were they?

You wanted your old life back.

You wanted your freedom back.

With a steadying breath, you raised your glass of wine, a quiet resolve settling over you. “To our freedom,” you declared, your voice clear despite the whirlwind of emotions.

Namjoon smirked, a fondness in his eyes as he confidently raised his glass in response. “To you, little one.”

“To us,” Seokjin added, his voice warm as he joined the toast, and one by one, the others followed suit.

You all drank to the last sip of your drinks, the sweet, fruity flavor of the wine lingering on your tongue. Seokjin’s gaze remained fixed on you, his watchful eyes never leaving your face as he set down his empty glass. There was an intensity in his stare, an unspoken question hanging in the air, as if he were waiting for something to unfold.

And he waited.

And waited.

Until it happened.

You felt the warmth of the wine spreading through your body, a comforting buzz that made everything feel lighter, more vibrant. But in the back of your mind, there was a nagging sensation, a whisper that something wasn’t quite right. The room began to tilt slightly, chatter of the CEOs was fading into a soft murmur. “S-something’s not right,” you whispered, turning to your ever dependable Yoongi, the one who never put you down.

Your hand was clutching his sleeves, yet he paid you no mind. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the liquid in you, and that nagging sensation began to twist in your gut. The wine—was it the wine? The warmth, the lightness, the almost too comfortable feeling that was settling into your bones—had it been too easy? Too perfect?

“W- what was in t-that w-wine?” You asked shakily, barely a whisper, your eyes finding Seokjin’s apathetic ones.

He waited.

“Seokjin…” you breathed out, your voice barely a whisper, as the fear settled in your chest like a stone.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he simply stared at you, his expression unreadable as his fingers lightly drummed against the table, almost too casual, too relaxed.

The realization hit you like a gut punch: This wasn’t a celebration. This was a trap.

Your vision blurred, and you struggled to focus, the faces of Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Namjoon becoming indistinct. Slowly, your world faded to black.

The seven men watched you as Yoongi wrapped his arm around you, securing your head to his shoulder as though he didn’t do anything.

“Why… why would you do that, hyung?” Jungkook asked, his voice a mix of confusion and disbelief, eyes wide with shock as he processed the scene.

Yoongi remained focused on you, his other hand gently caressing your face, a gesture of comfort that felt surreal. It was Seokjin, however, who broke the silence, his voice calm and measured as he quietly sliced his food. “She was going to leave us.”

Taehyung’s shock morphed into something deeper, worry etching lines on his forehead as he glanced between the two of them. “We can’t just keep her here!”

“She belongs with us,” Seokjin replied softly, an edge of finality in his tone as he continued to slice his food, unbothered by the tension brewing around him.

“But there is a cure—” Jungkook started, his voice rising in protest.

“There is no cure, Jungkook,” Namjoon interjected smoothly, his form relaxed as he poured himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling in the glass like a tempest. “There’s no cure because we aren’t sick.”

“The hyungs are right, Kookie,” Jimin said, his expression softening as he held your hand close to his face, as if trying to draw strength from your presence. “We just love her so much.”

“And now, she’ll love us too just as much,” Hoseok smirked, his gaze darting to the wine you had drunk.

A phone beeping continuously rose Seokjin from his slumber. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked down to find you snuggled peacefully in his arms, your face nestled against his chest. On your other side, Jimin had draped his leg over you, a content smile gracing his lips in his sleep. It was only four in the morning, yet the incessant beeping of your phone pierced the quiet.

You must have been too exhausted to not notice, he noted. Of course, why wouldn’t you be when the seven men showed you just how much they loved you. And this time, you were only too enthusiastic to show them how much you adored them. With a sigh, he reached for your phone and opened your messages, curiosity piquing as he scrolled through the frantic texts.

You have to get out of there, Y/N. The effect of the love potion only lasts for 60 hours!

Y/N, honey, I’m fucking serious. The potion won’t even be effective if they have no feelings for you.

These men are insane. They know you before this, Y/N. You’re in danger there!

Where are you?

Seokjin scoffed, irritation bubbling up within him. He glanced down at your serene expression, blissfully unaware of the turmoil outside this moment. With a few quick taps, he deleted the messages, each one disappearing like smoke. You didn’t need to know.

It didn’t matter how you got here because you were here now.

And they would never, ever let you leave. As you nestled deeper into his side, he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, determination flaring within him. They would make you see that this was where you belonged, that you were one of them now. There would be no turning back.

More so now that they had access to that love potion. With just a few drops, they could weave the very fabric of your feelings, ensuring you remained anchored to them. They tasted heaven with you. What fool would let that go?

END

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