#exok suho | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baekhyuns-abs · 7 years ago

Text

Red

CEO Kim Joonmyeon is back, ladies.

This is officially part 3 to the Dresscode scenario you guys keep harassing me for. I love it, keep doing it. Little Black Skirt is part 2, if you haven’t read that one.

As always, enjoy and remember this bitch loves feedback ❤❤

Sexual content, daddy kink.

“...And a bottle of the Krug please.”

She watched, her face red as her boss finished their food order, the waiter agreeably walking away to fetch the restaurant owner his bottle of very expensive champagne. Joonmyeon turned to her a second later, beginning to roll up the sleeves of his newly bought Prada shirt.

She kept her mouth shut about the drink, she had grown accustomed to his lavish lifestyle over the weeks she had been his secretary; and lover. This was their regular stop after work and the first time she argued; “we would have to make a reservation, they’re always booked up” or “I can’t afford that!” Joonmyeon simply replied with “it’s fine, I own the place. Quite frankly, she couldn’t argue with that logic.

He didn’t take her in the office again - or at all - like the first time but she wasn’t left disappointing at the fact. A minute of free time had her sprawled on her desk - or his, it didn’t matter - his mouth licking hers into submission, till she was a gasping mess beneath him. It was shameful that all it took was a kiss.

“Are you going to order something different this time?” Joonmyeon asked mockingly as she met his gaze over her menu.

She smiled, a little embarrassed. “Probably.”

“You don’t trust my chefs?” He laughed a little and the waiter returned with the champagne, two flutes and a wine stand.

She looked at him, smiling, uneasy as he he poured the bubbly liquid into a flute placed on her right. “Thank you.”

She felt out of place, women in this place were expecting nothing but the best, pearl necklaces and their own platinum american express cards being woven around the place in proud arrogance; they didn’t need a man to take care of them. But there she was, her backed up credit card in her knock off handbag weighing heavy inside without any jewelry on her body to call real.

She ordered her usual safe dish and Joonmyeon ordered a steak, but not before being viewed his options. The waiter dragged over a cart of uncooked, prime meats and steaks for him to choose from and she felt even more on edge.

She focused as best she could on him, the CEO that had rocked her world for 3 weeks straight. Taking her on lavish dinner dates to three different restaurants; he owned all three.

“How are you finding work?” He asked after a minute. “I’m not stressing you out too much am I?”

Absolutely; he drove her insane, always. She couldn’t concentrate half of the time, knowing that the sofa she sat opposite had been stained and tainted with sin. And his kisses, the kisses that were unyielding as he grabbed her, taking her by surprise - pleasantly - stopping just as quickly to give her business instructions.

“Not with work no.” She replied, her nose tingling with bubbles as she took a sultry sip of her champagne.

Joonmyeon raised a brow and rested his chin on his hand, his finger stroking his temple softly with a smug look on his face.

“Oh?” He replied with sly gusto and she could have melted.

Their starter arrived before she could stumble out a witless reply. A thick ciabatta loaf settled in front of her with a thick layer of rich pesto and tomato topped with parmesan.

“I didn’t order a starter…” She said meekly but the waitress gave a polite nod to Joonmyeon, walking away.

“It’s complimentary.” Joonmyeon replied, still smirking. “Try it.”

~~~

The overly priced bread, her risotto, the cheesecake, all of it was delicious but not as delicious as him. In the backseat of his bentley, behind the screen of privacy from his driver he had pulled her a top of him, kissing her like she was air.

His mouth tasted like the strawberry and coconut cake he had devoured not 10 minutes ago. Joonmyeon’s hands roamed her lower body, hiking up the tight black skirt he loved so much. There was a growing ache in her stomach as she felt him harden between her legs.

She pressed herself tightly against him, grinding her hips down as the car made her body sway as they drove through uptown. She gasped has his hands held her still, his fingers on the flesh of her hips, pushing her torso away from his crotch. She whined as his lips left hers, his eyes opeing to give her a look that begged for sex.

His tongue came out to lick along the seam of his lips and her core hungered.

“You’re mine now, do you know that?”

She forced the words out of her mouth through her dry throat. The look in his eyes told her not to argue. “Yes.”

Joonmyeon’s hand came up to weave its way into her hair, tugging on the strands lightly, his face almost disappointed.

“I think you can do better than that don’t you?” His tone was laced with seduction, patronising but too lucious to repel.

She knew what he wanted, the word that made both of their toes curl with sexual tension and arousal. The affirmation that left both of them wanting more every day.

“Yes, daddy.” She almost whispered the words as they left her mouth, wispy and just right.

Joonmyeon’s slight smirk gave her confidence and when he toyed with the flimsy material of her underwear at her hip she felt giddy with anticipation. She never thought in her wildest dreams that she would be straddling her boss for the third week running.

“So you know what I’m going to do?”

Joonmyeon’s hand left her hair, caressing down her body, stroking her breasts firmly as his other hand rested at the apex of her crotch. She tried to steady her breathing as he stroked her damp heat tenderly through her underwear, resisting the urge to press down on his pliant fingers.

“What’s daddy going to do?”

She saw the praise on his face at her question and he stroked her harder eliciting a small moan from her mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you right here.”

He pushed aside her underwear, his fingers pushing past her folds with ease, circling her entrance, making her shiver against him. His other hand rose to her face again his gaze lingering on her parted mouth as he ran his finger on her bottom lip. She tentatively licked the digit and he let her suck on it as his fingers teased her entrance, shallowly thrusting upwards inside of her; enough to torment.

“...And right here.”

She felt dirty in every way, a delightfully good dirty as she sucked on the pad of his finger, swirling her tongue around it as his erection grew against her thigh. She released his finger, her face red and her heart beating wild in her chest as his fingers still continued to tease her.

Distracted by everything that was him she wasn’t aware that the car had come to a stop until the hesitant knock at the divider made her jump.

“We’re back at the house.” Came the announcement from the driver.

Her body sagged as Joonmyeon guided her off him and opened the car door. She had been to his house - mansion - before but she could never get over at how beautiful it was. Yet it was cozy, the walls didn’t feel intrusive whenever she crawled out of his plush super king sized bed to creep to the bathroom in the middle of the night, or whenever she snuck downstairs to the marble victorian kitchen for water.

Joonmyeon took her hand as they walked up to the entry. She bit her lip with sexual anticipation as they stepped inside and he walked her upstairs.

She wondered what he had in store for her. She knew he was… different… She had known that from the moment she had overheard that fateful phone conversation. She knew Joonmyeon Kim was a man with different tastes - a dangerous appetite for sex that she hoped she could fulfill.

She allowed herself fleeting moments of insecurity when she didn’t have her mouth attached to those of the man in question. Who was the girl before her? How many had he had? When would he dispose of her? Is he still with the one from the phone call? Who even was she?

The sunset casted an orange glow in his master bedroom barely blurred with his visers. She felt him remove her coat, laying it out on his large round stool, placing his own blazer next to it. She stayed still, concentrating on the shimmering of his outdoor pool his bedroom looked down upon. His golden retriever tottered around the large garden, playing with the butler.

Her breath hitched as she felt a soft pull on the back of her skirt, the hum of her zipper travelling down the curve of her ass slowly pulling her out of her distractive daze. Joonmyeon let it fall to her ankles and she could make out his face in the small reflection in the window, her bare legs and his hands as they danced over her hips, circling her body to fiddle with the hem of her blouse.

His breath on her ear made her lick her lips and as he slowly traced his fingers up the skin of her stomach, coming up to undo the buttons of her blouse.

“You should know by now that I’m not like the little boys you’re used to playing with.” His mouth grazed her ear as he spoke to her and goosebumps rose on her skin.

Inch by inch Joonmyeon exposed her to him, button by button till he reached the last one at her neckline. He pushed it back over her shoulders, his fingers brushing against her skin as if to tease her. She watched in his reflection in the window as he began to pull his tie free and her palms began to feel clammy.

“Don’t move.”

She lost sight of him as he walked away, his order keeping her rooted in her place in nothing but her underwear and little heels - another designer rip off, yet convincing. She heard him open and close a draw and her mind went reeling with possibilities. When she met his eyes in the reflection again her stomach flipped at the sight of neatly coiled red rope looped around his hands.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his voice gentle, encouraging as he stood behind her once more.

She nodded and Joonmyeon cast a look to the floor before meeting her eyes again in the reflection, his look less playful, serious for a moment. “I need your words.”

“I trust you, daddy…” She managed, her voice weak with anxiety as she watched him unravel the rope.

His hands came to rest on her waist, the rope entwined in his fingers. He turned her around in his hold and she faced him, his eyes tender but dark all at once, the deep brown of his irises captivating her. They skimmed her body and her heart leapt to her throat, he ducked his head, taking her lips in a kiss so sensual he barely touched her - yet scorched her all at once.

She kissed him back with hunger, unable to ever be bored of his lips. Slowly but slowly he walked her backwards, the backs of her legs brushing his bed. He pushed her down and she fell with a gasp, bouncing on the lush mattress. She hesitantly looked up at him as he took a moment to admire her on his bed.

“Next time…” His voice was velvety, coated in such seduction that drove her mad. “Leave these at home.”

He hooked his finger in the front of her underwear and she felt dizzy at the declaration as he pulled them down her legs gradually. They noiselessly hit the floor and she felt her body heat up, her cheeks flaming pink as Joonmyeon spread her legs wide apart. They itched to close as he just stared down at her without saying a word.

Joonmyeon then knelt on the bed between her legs, so achingly close to her sex she wondered if he did it on purpose to torment her. He bent down, his hands sliding beneath her back. She felt the snap off her bra loosening and it was off her in seconds. Her nipples hardened, standing at attention - for his attention. He lapped his tongue over one of the buds, her mouth falling open.

He did it again, his mouth encasing it in a hard suck, his tongue flicking against it. Her hands shot up, reaching for him as he pleasured her with his mouth. He grabbed her wrists harshly, slamming them into the bed either side of her head and the action made her body feel some kind of way.

Joonmyeon lifted his head, his eyes scanning her face as he brought the rope into view. She swallowed thickly, excitement rippling up her body. He pulled her hands together above her head and his face lingered over hers, his looks rendering her breathless.

He wound the rope around her wrists, the material rubbing the skin snugly as he intricately tied the secure, neat tangle of knots.

Satisfied with his work he looked back down at her, one hand holding her arms in place above her head.

“Don’t move them.” He instructed with a voice so sensual, she felt it pull at her stomach.

He slid down her body, goosebumps raising on her skin. Joonmyeon stood again at the foot of the bed, his eyes staring down at her naked body with greedy sinful eyes. She found him hard to look at, feeling microscopic and insecure under his heady gaze.

“Look at me.”

She took a breath, her eyes following his hands as he undid his belt, slowly unzipping his tented trousers. He pushed them down, pooling them at his feet as he raised his hands to unbutton his shirt. She fidgeted, feeling impatient and like she was about to burst as he pushed his shirt off his shoulders. She longed to run her hands over his delicious smooth abs that lined his perfect stomach.

He pulled down his briefs and when his hard erection bounced free she almost lost it.

Joonmyeon crawled back onto the bed and she eagerly spread her legs for him as he knelt between them. He hovered over her body effortlessly not letting her skin touch his as he leaned over to his dresser drawer, pulling out a black tie. His cock ran tantalisingly across her hip.

“Close your eyes.”

She did.

She was engulfed in permanent blackness as he secured the tie around her eyes, tying it. “Remember…” She jolted at the lips at her ear as he spoke. “Keep them there…”

He gave her hands a squeeze for emphasis before she felt him move down her body again. She held her breath as she felt his hand running up her thighs, the slightest touch of his hands on her raising goosebumps. The darkness around her made everything more profound, she could hear his breathing, feel it across her hips as he sank further down her body.

A sharp moan fell from her mouth as his thumb stroked her slit, the lewd sound of her arousal making her blush. She couldn’t see him, she could only feel him as his mouth replaced his thumb. His tongue worked her entrance and her arms twitched, itching to find something to cling to as lightning erupted in her core from his long tongue.

She never knew it could feel so good as his tongue fucked her till her hips shook, his thumb toying with her weeping clit. His arm pinning her hips to the bed as she quaked. She found a grip on the headboard, hanging on to the wooden bar as she blindly succumbed to Joonmyeon’s skillful mouth.

She was loud, moaning shamefully, his grip on her hips almost bruising - in the best kind of way - as she bucked up into his mouth again and again, reaching the absolute precipice of her climax. His mouth travelled to her clit, a strangled moan leaving her mouth as he sank his fingers inside her pulsing hole, beckoning her, baiting her as her knuckles whitened around the wooden post.

Her mind screamed, her body convulsed and her mouth dropped open feeling--

“Not yet.” Joonmyeon’s touch ceased, his fingers left her, his mouth retreating.

Her body sagged, her heart beat rang in her ears and frustration settled deep in her belly. She whimpered breathlessly at his cruel denial as the grip on her hips loosened. He ran his hands down her stomach, holding her waist firmly. She couldn’t see him, the look of sexual need and hunger in his eyes as his hips surged forward, meeting hers as he sunk his cock deep inside her.

The feeling of him stretching her, filling her had her seeing stars. He held onto her waist, his fingers sinking into her skin at his strong hold as he thrusted in and out of her. His soft moans filled the air and she repressed the urge to reach for him as he fucked her hard and good.

She fell apart in his hands, her mouth opening in a silent scream. He tugged away the blindfold, her eyes opening wide, piercing into his own as her orgasm crashed into her. Her tight walls milked him for all he was worth as he lowered himself down, his arms on either side of her head, plowing her without mercy, making her orgasm agonisingly long.

She watched him through watery eyes as his mouth opened, his neck veins protruding as his own release krept up on him, his hips snapping into hers aggressively. A hiss, his eyes closing tight and a shiver down his spine he stilled inside of her. She felt boneless beneath him as Joonmyeon licked his lips panting, coming back down to earth slowly.

He left her, rolling next to her on his back, pulling her tightly to his strong body. She let go of the headboard her bound arms folding on her chest as he cradled her close to him.

Joonmyeon looked down at her, her red face as she stared back with glassy eyes. He glanced at the red rope that remained around her wrists and a mischievous smirk spread across his cheeks.

“Red looks good on you.”

#joonmyeon #kim joonmyeon #suho #exo #exo suho #suho smut #exo smut #exok #exom #exo k #exo m #exo k suho #exok suho #leader suho #exo scenario #suho scenario

160 notes · View notes

mariestherapeutics · 7 years ago

Photo

Crescendo ft. Junmyeon: Part 1. Crescendo’s finally here everyone! :D Also the first person to correctly tell me the reference I made of the Reader’s last name will receive a personal fic (like in Project Follower). If no one gets it then haha I guess I’m off the hook. ^^’ -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(♫) I think there's a flaw in my code, these voices won't leave me alone. Well my heart is gold and my hands are cold.

FOURTEEN YEARS AGO... AGE SIX

"You can do this, Myeonnie, just pretend that it's practice." Kim Seoyeon, the professional cello artist, adjusted her son's tie for the fifth time as he fidgeted anxiously for his name to be called. "You've played this piece many times before, remember." She reassured him, smiling a bit.

Her son, Kim Junmyeon, though exceptionally talented in what he does, took after his father, Kim Yongha, in that he is a professional pianist. He was taught how to read music from a young age and inevitably became a prodigy by the time he was five.

May 21st, his sixth birthday, was the first night he'd have to play live in front of such a grandiose audience, and Kim Seoyeon wanted to make sure everything was perfect for her son's great debut in the classical industry.

"What if I mess up?" Junmyeon asked her, his small hands trembling slightly underneath his long sleeves. "Will they laugh at me?"

"Maybe," His dad told him honestly. Junmyeon stared at him with wide nervous eyes. "So you'd better not mess up." He winked, and Junmyeon managed a little smile.

The three of them stood apprehensively backstage, waiting for the signal to go on. Junmyeon quietly thought to himself that if he didn't play any wrong keys that night, he'd make his mom and dad buy a whole tub of icecream just for himself.

"There's our cue-- let's go, let's go!" Junmyeon had to remind himself to walk, but he nearly ran anyways when he saw the masses of people filling the seats of the auditorium.

"Please welcome the Kim family, who has been gracing our lives with magic since 1976." Junmyeon made a move for the piano at the center of the stage, but his father placed a firm hand on his shoulder and stopped him. This action sent a chuckle through the crowd, and Junmyeon felt his face grow hot. "Ah, this is your new edition, Kim Junmyeon, right?" The announcer asked, bowing in greeting to him. Junmyeon returned the bow, earning a unanimous "aw" from his viewers. "Please give us a good performance today, the Kim family!"

When Yongha released Junmyeon's shoulder, he walked briskly to his piano and took a tentative seat. Junmyeon kept his eyes off of the crowd, like his mom and dad suggested, and found that it comforted him immensly. He watched his mom take a seat on the other side of his instrument, placing her giant cello between her legs and smiling at him. Once he saw his dad sit at his own piano, Junmyeon knew it was time to begin.

He pulled his sleeves up, rested his hands over the black and white keys, and produced the first notes of the song. When the introductory verse was over, Junmyeon waited for his mother's cello to join him, but it never came.

The next few things happened very fast. First, Junmyeon glanced over his piano at his mom, wondering why she was taking so long to play it, when he noticed she was clutching her chest and breathing heavily. Next, his dad stood up from his piano, and the crowd gasped as his mom fell off her chair, her medium colliding loudly on the stage.

"Mrs. Kim!!" Junmyeon's hands accidentally slammed downwards as he stood up, too, trying to get a better look at the scene, resulting in an unpleasant din. At that exact moment, Junmyeon witnessed his mom give a violent shudder, making his heart beat erratically and his breathing shallower.

Had he done that?

"Mom!" He bellowed over the clamor. He saw people in white garments enter the stage and surround her, picking her up onto a rolling bed and bringing her away. Junmyeon was moving to follow, but his dad was suddenly at his side, holding him back. "But, Mom--!" He cried desperately, pointing at her for his dad to see.

"Your mother will be fine, Junmyeon, she's going to be okay." At six years old, Junmyeon's only understanding of the situation was that, when he played the piano, his mother was hurt. As he gandered at the massive string instrument he was so eager to utilize, a shot of fear traveled down his spine for the first time in his short life. He whimpered, stumbling away from it and hugged his dad's midsection.

"I want to go home." He sobbed, tiny hands fisting in his father's tux.

That night, May 21st, 1997, was the last time Junmyeon layed his hands on a piano.

PRESENT DAY... AGE TWENTY

Park's Private Institute of Music has never been an easy college to enter, but Junmyeon managed to pass the entrance exam with flying colors because of his family and history. He didn't even need to show proof that he can play an instrument, not that he wanted to. The only one he ever learned to play was the piano, which would prove troublesome if he were asked to play it.

After the incident on his sixth birthday, Junmyeon believed he hurt his mother by playing the piano, and would cry on the spot if he even looked at one afterwards. Of course, as he grew older and realized how silly that mindset was, he wasn't as trigger-prone to bawling.

Something about that time really scarred him, though, because Junmyeon found that, on his tenth birthday, even though he could look at his piano, he couldn't play it or hear one be played, either.

I'm pathetic, he became accustomed to telling himself when he turned fourteen. He, Junmyeon, who was once his parent's pride and joy, now felt as if he were burden and a disappointment, though they assured him he was quite the opposite whenever they could.

"Your talents aren't limited to the piano, son." His dad, Kim Yongha, had told him at fifteen. "Though we had hoped you'd carry on the family business, you can do whatever you want."

Junmyeon was convinced that his parents were just saying nice words to him, but were secretly trying to guilt him into continuing the family business anyways. After falling for his own assumptions at eighteen, he decided to do it. He applied to Park's Private Institute of Music, much to his parent's approval, and assured them that he'd thrive there.

Yet, on the first day in class, Junmyeon found himself shoving his earphones in just before a classmate plays the piano. His heart hammers in his chest, the experience of being so near a panic attack making his blood hot and his stomach churn uncomfortably.

If he broke down in front of everyone, how would he show his face in public ever again?

Once he saw the student was a safe distance away from the massive string instrument, he tentatively pulled out his earbuds and tried his best to look calm through the rest of the lesson, where other skilled musicians took turns playing their instrument of choice.

Many people played the violin and the clarinet, with a few outcasts who performed the sax or the trumpet, and finally, a pretty girl sauntered to the cello display. Junmyeon watches her with interest, surprised that she went for the cello; he was affectionately reminded of his mother, who lives as a professional cello player.

The girl, who introduces herself as Rifi _____, sets the instrument between her legs, and plays. He, Junmyeon, immediately recognizes the song as his one of his parents', one he learned before his sixth birthday. The interlude ends, and he half expects to hear his father's solo begin, but the cello continues to play the piano's part in the absence of it.

It sounds strange to him, wrong even, and Junmyeon wants to march up there to play it right, but he knows that'd be idiotic of him. It's not his performance, and he wouldn't even be able to press two keys on the piano without freaking out. He settles on ramming his earbuds in again, spacing out until the song is over.

"Now that you all know who's good at what, I want you all to choose a partner whose instrument compliments your own. Your first assignment is to perform a duet." The professor instructs. Many of the students give Junmyeon a sideways glance, knowing that he was the only person who hadn't played something, but he pretended he didn't see them.

For the time being, he was excused of any instrument playing, he thought, but if his first homework assignment is to perform, how will he pass any of his classes? Maybe I can learn something easy, like the triangle, he tells himself fleetingly, but the concept slips away when the girl from before, who played the cello, approaches him.

"Hi," She greets, and Junmyeon pulls out his earphones.

"Hey," He replies, taken aback by the social interaction.

"Would you like to be my partner?" She inquires, tilting her head with the smallest of smiles. Up close, Junmyeon notices, she's even prettier.

"Um, sorry," He mutters disappointingly. It sucks that he has to turn her down. "I don't play anything."

"Well, you must play something if you're in this school." She insists, taking the empty seat in front of him. It's a music course, so there are no desks, just chairs. "Maybe, the piano?" She questions.

Junmyeon tells himself her guess is a mere coincidence to calm his suddenly racing heartbeat. That night on May 21st, 1997, never aired because of what happened. His parents didn't want news of his mother's sudden health issues spreading around, so the world was never introduced to Junmyeon. They went on fewer concerts after that, and no one knew a thing, save for the mass who attended it all those years ago.

Trying to look casual, he says, "Really, I don't play anything."

"You're Kim Junmyeon, am I wrong?" The question catches him off guard, and when he stays silent, the girl's smile widens in a polite manner. "I'm Rifi _____. I noticed your earbuds in while I was playing, so I'm not sure if you caught it."

A surge of guilt filled him, but he remained cool on the surface. "I heard." He reassures, and you nod in grateful realization.

"Great, then, would you?" Junmyeon knows you're asking about you being partners, but he has the temptation to act dumb about it. Before he can have any reaction, though, you add, "I promise you won't regret it afterwards.~"

And that makes Junmyeon pause. How could you possibly know what he'd feel, especially in the future? Not even Junmyeon knows how his emotions will work most of the time, yet... something about the way you're smiling at him, or maybe the way you asked so nicely, made him consider it.

Maybe he really could learn to play the triangle, at least that way, no one would be disappointed.

"If you'll have me." He says finally, returning your patience with a shy grin.

"Thank you!" You exclaim, standing up joyfully. "Let's get practicing as soon as we can, shall we? I'm free tomorrow morning, if you're up to it." Junmyeon realizes that he willingly partnered up with an early riser, and wonders if this will really work out the way you promised it would.

"Where at?" He asks, trying to stay positive. At least someone even noticed him, wanted to be his partner, and was enthusiastic about it.

"I'd prefer it if we used one of the school's playing rooms, but I'm up for anywhere you can go." You say, once again surprising Junmyeon with your friendliness.

"The playing rooms are fine..." He finds himself muttering, even though he has no idea where they're at. "Um..." You seem to know exactly what he's thinking, because you ask,

"Which complex do you live in? I can pick you up at the entrance around 8:30 AM." You swiftly pull out a planner, which Junmyeon stares at as if it were an aberrant. He's never been loyal enough to use one himself.

"I live in building A." He says, but instantly regrets it. Building A is for the wealthy students who can afford their own condo (which took up the entire floor). Admitting his economic status is tantamount to admitting his ability to play an instrument here.

But you either ignore this fact or are oblivious to it, because you smile cutely as you scribble down the letter in your booklet, then you close it and set it back in your bag. "I'll see you, then." You wave, sliding your backpack over one shoulder and departing.

Junmyeon sits there for a while, placing his earphones back in. He's fully aware that his professor is staring at him, wondering what he's still doing there, but he ignores the eyes and closes his own.

Maybe he shouldn't have accepted your request to partner up. Learning a new instrument, even the triangle, before the month was over was absurd. He'd either have to play the piano for you or back out. He couldn't live with himself if he just let it drag on.

Tomorrow, Junmyeon promises himself, finally getting up with his bag as some students from the professor's next class file in. Tomorrow I'll tell her it won't work out.

(Continued in Part 2... Crescendo)

14 notes · View notes