#hair growth pro

[zombiified]

ugly freak

[sn0wbat]

some lore for my vampire thing. vampire hair is strange indeed

[idrawsometimes]

Linktober Day 26: Overgrown

Shadow has never cut his hair in their life. And it grows... a little faster than your average person's.

[rowanhoney]

.

[mass4ubd]

Pantene Conditioner, with Rice Water, Protects Natural Hair Growth, Volumizing, for Women, Nutrient Infused with Vitamin B5, Pro-V Blends, 30.0 oz

Why do you like it ?

RICE WATER INFUSED FORMULA Reduces hair loss and thinning due to breakage

FULL AND THICK Strengthens strands for fuller, thicker looking hair

HAIR CUT CANCELED Protects strands to help hair grow strong and long so you can skip the cut

CLEAN INGREDIENTS 0% Sulfates, Parabens, Dyes, or Mineral Oil

PROTECT FROM THE INSIDE OUT Protective antioxidants, Pro-vitamin B5 and Strengthening Lipids

[luminnara]

Unheavenly Creatures III | Feyd-Rautha x reader (NSFW)

Part One | Part Two |

MASTERLIST

Requests are open!

Tags: @austinswhitewolf @aeilani @maneater17 @serrendiipty @belovedbastardremus @the-dark-dreamer25 @cauliflowercounty @mamawiggers1980 @catsinacottage @targaryen-madness @juliskopf

Warnings: group sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mentions of cannibalism

Feyd-Rautha’s holy birthday lasted a full week. All of Giedi Prime celebrated their na-Baron, and for the nobility, that meant several long days of feasting, gladiatorial spectacles, and pro-House Harkonnen propaganda.

Within the walls of the palace, yet another banquet was being prepared, all of the extra chairs already placed at the long table in the dining hall. All of the important guests would be present for this last great feast before they began their journeys home in the coming days, and, upon Feyd-Rautha's request--demand, really--you and your fellow concubines were to be in attendance.

"Do we often receive these dinner summons?" you asked, facing yourself in a mirror as a servant ran a razor over your scalp. Though you had received two rounds of Harkonnen beauty treatments intended to halt hair growth entirely, you had woken up that morning with a soft layer of peach fuzz atop your head. After a fair amount of taunting from Feyd-Rautha, whose ego seemed to be running particularly rampant after so many days of celebration, an attendant from the Baron’s spa had come to take care of the problem, rubbing you in more Harkonnen chemicals while the others prepared themselves for the day.

“On occasion,” Yarina hissed, smoothing a beauty cream over her brow.

“I prefer feasting here, with Feyd,” Issa said, sounding annoyed. “There are always many eyes on us in the dining hall.”

“I enjoy watching the other Houses,” Yarina said. “Sometimes there is even a Bene Gesserit.”

You hummed in thought as the spa attendant finished with you, bowed, and backed out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible. She likely feared you; after all, Feyd’s concubines had been known to bite, especially when hungry. Only the day before you had watched as Yarina snapped her sharp teeth at the Baron’s mentat when he walked too close, and you had heard stories of Feyd-Rautha returning to his chambers to find that she and Issa had slaughtered a servant. Once, supposedly, they had even killed a would-be assassin they had sniffed out, though the remains were far too mutilated for anyone to determine the offender’s House or origins.

“Do you recall how I spoke of my former House allying with House Harkonnen?” You asked, turning to look at the others in their seats.

They both perked up at the question.

“They will be in attendance?” Yarina asked with a grin.

“I assume so,” you said. “Perhaps we will see them today.”

Issa twisted in her seat to better face you, the motion fluid and languid. “Perhaps Feyd will serve them to us on a platter.”

The two bared their teeth at each other in delight, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever grow to become so ravenous. When they weren’t concerned with Feyd-Rautha, their cravings always turned to food, and they sometimes acted as though they were starving. You knew that couldn’t be the case; they ate at least two full meals a day, oftentimes three, with snacks sprinkled in throughout. This week, thanks to all of the feasting, they were surely not actually hungry…but they spoke of it more frequently than ever, eyeing the fresh corpses the ba-Baron left in his wake and hissing whenever he told them no.

“I think it is likely we will be asked to sit and eat quietly,” you said, testing the waters with your statement. “Don’t you? There will be so many important guests.”

“Not important to me,” Issa turned back around as she continued her beauty rituals, seeming uninterested now.

You sat and watched the two of them and wondered what they may have been like before falling into Feyd-Rautha’s service. Had they been the daughters of Harkonnen nobility, living in the palace and watching the na-Baron in the arena every other week? Perhaps they had known him in their youth, or at least Yarina had. You recalled that she had been with him the longest, though you did not know by what margin she surpassed Issa. Had they been Harkonnen celebrities? Models, perhaps? Feyd preferred to remain in the palace, and so you had never spent much time venturing forth into the capital city. Perhaps their images had been all over Giedi Prime, advertising synthetic food products. Perhaps they had both been the daughters of families with spice fortunes, or perhaps they, like you, had once been in the employ of noblewomen, and had found their way into Feyd-Rautha’s lap.

Or, you thought with a shudder, perhaps they had come from the Bene Tleilax, and they were simply some of their tamer genetically modified products. You had glimpsed the creatures kept as pets by the Baron, strange, mutated things that scurried about on too many spider-legs yet understood human speech. If Vladimir could purchase such things, then perhaps Feyd had purchased modified Harkonnen women for his own collection…though, you knew Giedi Prime itself hosted scientists and beauticians capable of making the changes Yarina and Issa sported, because they had made them to you.

You found yourself favoring the model theory, though it left room for improvement. Feyd’s darlings had a lust for human flesh that you had yet to see in any other Harkonnen. Even Feyd-Rautha didn’t partake in the same way. He ingested blood, most often yours, and you had seen him eat the prepared organ here or there, but they all acted as if you needed to consume them. You wondered if there would be lungs at this final feast.

You enjoyed lung.

As the others finished in front of the mirror, you stood, moving to the rack of clothing reserved for you. You did not know who created the dresses you wore, only that they were likely highly respected and revered. You regularly received new ensembles, and they were always simple—black, industrial, synthetic garments that matched the others’. Shortly after Feyd -Rautha took you in, you had been measured by a tailor’s assistant, a box of clothing arriving in your chambers the following morning. You often dressed yourself, but for special occasions, servants cleaned and laid your dresses out for you, and you had become rather pampered after a week of this.

Now, you stood facing a black dress, its shiny material soft and rubbery to the touch. A fair portion of the bodice was a thin, flesh-toned mesh, making it appear that the black, synthetic material of the dress only covered two thin lines stretching from your waist and up over your breasts. The skirt was long and opaque, and simple black slippers sat on the floor beneath where it hung.

You reached for it and slipped it over your head, enjoying the feeling of the stretchy fabric on your bare skin. It was smooth and without any blemishes, just the way House Harkonnen liked their things to be. Looking at your reflection now, you felt streamlined, welcoming the way the dress hugged you, the garment clinging as if it had been painted on.

Issa and Yarina had been gifted matching gowns, and when they had both finished their beauty rituals, a servant helped them dress. You should have requested—demanded—the assistance as well, you realized, but old habits died hard, and there were some things you didn’t think would ever come second nature. You were still too used to being the one summoned to help with the stately garments of your former mistress, and you continuously had to remind yourself now that you were one of the highest-ranking women on all of Giedi Prime.

“How do I look?” Yarina asked, though it was a rhetorical question.

“Divine,” Issa hissed with a grin, showing her teeth in a way that was anything but heavenly.

Yarina returned it, then looked to you. You agreed with Issa, lips stretching into a too-wide smile, before the three of you devolved into a fit of unholy giggling, the servants wincing as your shrieking laughter pierced their eardrums.

“I do so enjoy these events,” Yarina sighed, making her way towards the doorway.

“Why is that?” You asked, following.

You walked out into the main room in which Feyd’s bed sat, passing it as you trailed behind her, Issa behind you. You all three retired to the lounge area, sitting on the smooth black couches as a servant poured three glasses of a dark, viscous drink.

“The guests are fascinating,” Yarina said as she waved a hand, dismissing all of the servants. “Issa doesn’t think so. But I do.”

They quickly fled the room, shoulders hunched as they stared down at their feet. You had seen more and more of them all week, a result of the na-Baron’s birthday festivities. They were being worked round the clock, you surmised, and they were probably able to thanks to the chemical stimulants the Harkonnens so loved.

“Before I came here, i attended many dinners that my mistress hosted for the other Great Houses,” you said. “Or, I suppose, I helped her prepare for them, and was occasionally allowed to sit in. I was never so important there as I am here.”

“You’re very important,” Issa hissed, the sound coming out gentler than normal. “To us.”

“And all of Giedi Prime,” Yarina ran the back of her knuckles over your arm.

“And Feyd,” Issa added.

“What about Feyd?” A rough voice asked as the door slid open.

Your heart jumped in elation as Feyd-Rautha strode into the room. He stopped in front of the sitting area, looking over the three of you with dark eyes. He did this often; you knew he would spend hours watching you if he could, and he sometimes did, memorizing every curve, taking note of what he liked best and what he wished to change. Some of it had surprised you, and in some ways, he was far less demanding than men on other planets, including the one you had come from. In other areas, though, he was very specific, and you sometimes wondered why. He had his tastes, you supposed, and he had the means to indulge, unlike many others. You were his precious toy, a doll to be played with and modified as he pleased.

“We’ve missed you,” Issa purred, standing.

You followed suit. You would have crawled to him if you had to, but it was never a race, nor was it a struggle. You moved at the same pace as the others, and when you reached him, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, just as he did theirs, though his hand found its way to your waist as he draped himself over you in what could have been considered an embrace.

“I’ve missed you as well, m’darlings,” he murmured as he kissed you once more before letting go and moving on to Yarina.

“Do you like our dresses?” You asked.

As he leaned back, you felt his eyes rake over you. Then, he smirked, and you found yourself wishing to feel his lips upon you once more.

“Beautiful.”

And you knew he meant it, because he always did.

-0-

A servant fetched you when it was time, though Feyd seemed determined to make all four of you fashionably late, as he was too busy holding your hips down as you straddled his face to be bothered with leaving in a timely manner. Eventually, however, he had had his fill, and you were trying to ignore the slickness between your thighs as you followed him out of the suite.

The corridors were abuzz with activity, Harkonnen aristocrats and visitors alike pausing to watch as you passed. You heard whispers and saw hands shielding mouths as if that would keep their words from reaching your ears, and even if it could, you already knew what they were saying. They’d been exchanging the same shocked, starstruck expressions the entire week, their eyes glued to you as if trying to memorize every pore, every flex, every muscle. You had mostly grown used to the scrutiny of the public eye on Giedi Prime, and your skin no longer crawled when the hungry gazes of the aristocracy raked over it. your newfound celebrity fit like a glove, it seemed.

The dining hall was nearly full when you finally reached it, most of the long table’s place setting s occupied. It was rare that you ate within these walls, Feyd often preferring to take his meals in his chambers rather than with his uncle; he had never given any explicit explanation as to why, but you had always imagined he preferred the peace and time away from the Baron.

The banquet hall’s longest table, reserved for these special feasts and meetings, played host to a variety of foods, some of which you did not recognize even after all of your time living amongst House Harkonnen. You did spy, however, a platter of kidneys near another of livers, two organs you had grown increasingly familiar with as of late. They both sat before three empty chairs positioned near one end of the long, metal table, and you recognized them to be places set for yourself and your companions.

“Your na-Baron, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” a voice announced as you followed Feyd further into the room.

The dinner guests all stood quickly while the slaves lining the walls stared at the floor. The air was tense, as it so often was within the Baron’s walls, though Baron Harkonnen himself appeared to be rather at ease; he did not deign to rise for his nephew, choosing instead to slouch in his chair and spread his arms wide in a celebratory gesture.

“Finally, you join us, nephew,” came his voice like wet stones grinding over each other.

Though you could not see Feyd-Rautha’s expression from your position behind him, you imagined the glower you knew to be there. He had been cross with his uncle all week, ever since the incident with the not-drugged Atreides slave in the arena. You could not blame him for his disdain—Vladimir Harkonnen’s gaze still made your skin crawl whenever you felt those beady eyes upon you.

Without a word, Feyd walked to the chair nearest the door, directly across the long table from the Baron, who sat at its head. You followed in line, making for the third and furthest open seat from his with the expectation that Issa and Yarina would occupy the two closer to the na-Baron, indicating their seniority. You were surprised when they both fluidly sidestepped past you, positioning you at Feyd’s right hand while they took the two further seats, conspiracy shimmering in their huge black eyes. There was no time to question them, however; the moment Feyd-Rautha reached forward and drank from his wine cup, the spell of silence was broken and the feasting began.

The Baron spoke to his nearby mentat about something too boring for you to care to attempt to listen in on, and soon, the guests began conversing amongst themselves, the huge banquet hall filled with the low, echoing murmur of their voices. As you looked around at them, you recognized the fashions of a few Great Houses and wondered if you had once played host to these very same people on your home planet. You recognized thinly-veiled mannerisms of unnerved yet fascinated tourists, some of them trying their best to avoid insulting the greatly-feared Feyd-Rautha at his own birthday feast. Their eyes had a tendency to wander, even this early into dinner, and you watched as a few of them glanced over to him while conversing with their fellows only to quickly look away once more.

You noticed how they all seemed to be avoiding looking at you, their eyes seeming to skip past your corner of the table on their way to and from the na-Baron. In your peripheral vision, you could see that Issa and Yarina had yet to move, their silverware and metal drinking cups untouched as they, too, surveyed the room. You briefly thought of the story of how they had sniffed out the assassin, and you wondered if they were attempting to do the same now. If they were, it put a damper on your plan to speak to them; you certainly wouldn’t want to interrupt their work if there truly was someone nefarious afoot. Or at least, someone more nefarious than the average Harkonnen nobility.

As you looked down the table, you spied several intriguing figures—A veiled woman stood out, her food disappearing behind her covering. You recognized her to be Bene Gesserit, a witch whom you could never hope to understand, if she was anything like the ones you had encountered in your previous home. While you could not see her face, you imagined that she was watching the room much in the same way you were, though you were certain her thoughts were far more secretive and far more conniving than your benign observations.

Nearer to the Baron, you spied Feyd’s older brother, Glossu Rabban, the Count of Lankiveil, the rainy planet Feyd-Rautha had been born on. You had often wondered if Feyd remembered his true home…though it was incredibly difficult to imagine him residing anywhere else, when he so perfectly matched Giedi Prime’s harshness.

Glossu seemed happy to be seated near to his uncle. You could hear him laughing loudly, tearing into his food as he soaked up the attention his brother’s guests were obliged to pay him. The former governor of Arrakis still harbored a bruised ego after control of the spice-planet had been plucked out of House Harkonnen’s grasp, and you found it a bit difficult to believe that you were supposed to be afraid of him. Everyone called him Beast Rabban, and perhaps you had simply spent too much time around his younger brother to buy into the nickname.

As your eyes traveled back down the opposite side of the table, you recognized the textiles of your home planet and let your gaze linger. Had you really once worn clothing like that? So many layers of warm, knit fabric that would smother you beneath Giedi Prime’s sun? You had grown so used to the fashion of House Harkonnen and the stretchy, rubbery material you so often wore now that the thought of being weighed down by such heavy clothing made your chest feel tight. The dark blues and greens of your former home looked strange to you now, and as your eyes trailed upwards to the faces of the nobles who wore them, you found that you nearly didn’t recognize them.

There they sat, the Lord and Lady, the heads of your former House. She wore her hair long, and as you studied it, you remembered how it felt to brush every night and every morning, for she would never stoop so low as to maintain it herself. He bore a naive, jovial expression, that of a man who thought himself surrounded by nothing less than friends, a man who believed he could buy anything and anyone though his House was far from the richest or most powerful. To his credit, the people nearest to him enjoyed his company, laughing and smiling at his words. What he lacked in true power he made up for in charisma.

“Is that them?” Yarina hissed below the sound of conversation.

“Yes,” you replied, finally tearing your eyes away from your former masters to survey the food in your immediate vicinity.

“Hmph.” She scoffed.

“Unimpressed?” You asked.

“Highly.”

You heard a snort of amusement to your left and glanced in its direction. Feyd-Rautha was slumped back in his chair, cup in one hand while the other supported his chin as he leaned his elbow on the chair’s arm.

“Unimpressed, indeed.” He murmured, then leaned in and passed his goblet to you. “You may need this more than I, darlin’.”

Conversation around your end of the table lulled as the dinner guests paused to watch the na-Baron’s gesture. They had all been keeping one eye on him, you surmised, speaking with their peers whilst nervously watching for any change in his behavior. His movement drew their attention and soon their gazes were fixed upon you, intense, judgmental curiosity burning into you as you steeled yourself and accepted the wine.

“Thank you, Feyd.” You said in your best Issa imitation.

Feyd offered a smirk and reached for you, his hand lingering beneath your chin as his thumb brushed your cheek while you drank. The wine—if it could even be called as such—was thick, and you recognized it to be a mixture of blood and an as yet unknown liquid that made its appearance in Harkonnen cuisine regularly. It contained spice, you knew; you could taste it, a hot, somewhat savory tinge that sent a tingle down your spine.

“Of course.” He squeezed the back of your neck for a moment, something he often did absentmindedly, and took the goblet back.

Still aware of the guests’ gazes, you turned your attention to your food. Plucking a kidney off a platter, you chewed it slowly, eyes remaining on the table as you listened to the conversation pick back up.

“From where did you acquire your concubines, na-Baron?” Someone asked.

You glanced up at Feyd to see him watching a man across from you. He seemed to be deciding whether he wanted to play nice or demand an execution take place, his jaw set as his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. It was his holy birthday, though, and nearly the end of the celebrations, and you watched as he chose the more peaceful, talkative route.

“My darlings find their way to me on their own.” He said.

“How so, na-Baron?”

“He purchases them!” Baron Vladimir interrupted from the other end of the table, laughing loudly in a way that was not entirely free of mocking.

All heads swiveled to face him, yours included. Yarina hissed quietly, a noise of distaste. If she were any nearer to the Baron, you’d have been afraid that he would have heard and immediately demanded she be disposed of…but there, so close to Feyd, she was safe. And so were you. 

Feyd-Rautha glared at his uncle, who continued.

“My nephew is a man who knows what he wants,” Vladimir said. “Nothing will deter him—and nothing is too good for my heir. That is why when he interrupts trade negotiations to demand a new plaything be included in the deal, I oblige.”

Feyd’s expression was purely sour, his cheeks hollowing as his jaw clenched. When he spoke, you heard the restraint in his voice. “And I am ever thankful, Uncle.”

The Baron gave a nod, clearly pleased with himself, and as conversation began anew your eyes drifted to the rulers of your former planet. They seemed unable to choose how they should feel—you spied smugness in their expressions alongside confusion and mild alarm. Were they suddenly worried now? Concerned for the well-being of the handmaiden they had sold without so much as a second thought? You watched as they shared an uncertain look with each other before they forced smiles onto their faces once more.

You heard a quiet hmph to your right and realized that Issa and Yarina had also been watching them, their nearly identical faces parallel to your own. Would your previous keepers even be able to tell you apart from them? Had it been so long and had you changed so much that they’d be unable to choose you from a lineup?

“You may pursue them later,” Feyd rasped, cutting into a piece of meat. “Eat now, darlings.”

Issa hummed, the sound more akin to a purr, and you obliged as well, plucking a rare lung off of a platter and chewing it thoughtfully. The conversation around you blended into dull, white noise, and as always, your focus was more on Feyd-Rautha than anywhere else.

He conversed with his guests and you occasionally felt his leg or foot brush against yours beneath the table, a reminder that he was there. You ate in silence, sometimes sharing a glance with Issa and Yarina when something stood out in the sea of voices. You could tell they were more interested in the Bene Gesserit than anyone else in attendance, their black eyes fixated on the woman they could not even see behind the veil. Why they cared so much, you did not know…so you left them to it and tried to enjoy your first large banquet on Giedi Prime.

After a final course of black, bloody desserts, dinner concluded. Feyd-Rautha left the room first and you followed closely behind, hot on his heels as he strode out into the corridor. The Baron was next to leave, surrounded by his guard, and you hovered behind Feyd as his uncle said a final happy birthday before floating away in the direction of his private spa.

Feyd-Rautha glared after him, fists clenched at his sides. “I should kill him.”

The bold statement alarmed you, but the others remained calm.

“He will not taste good,” Issa hissed, leaning her chin on his shoulder as her hands spread over his chest from behind. “So much meat, gone to waste…”

Feyd still stared at his uncle’s shadow as it retreated around a corner. “He does not deserve to be eaten.”

“Why do you wish to kill him, Feyd?” You asked, stepping out to face him and gazing at him with big, black eyes.

The na-Baron’s head snapped around to look at you, and there he saw you for what you were; his newest, freshest, most naive concubine, whose home planet was half a galaxy away and who had nothing but him and his other darlings now. Though you had settled in well and called Giedi Prime your home now, he was reminded that you were not truly Harkonnen, and you might never be.

“Do you wish to speak with your former owners?” He asked, changing the subject.

You frowned at the attempted diversion, but took the bait nonetheless and considered his question. Did you wish to see them? In the time you had spent away, you had changed considerably, not only physically but mentally as well. Harkonnen customs were less and less strange by the day, and your memories of your old home felt odd and dreamlike now. What would you gain from revisiting the people from that life? Did you desire closure? Or were you beginning to lean towards speaking with them because a part of you was still angry about their abandonment of you, and you wanted them to see what had become of the handmaiden they left behind on Giedi Prime?

“I do, Feyd.”

“…then we will call on them tonight.” He decided, taking your hand and pressing a kiss that was smooth as a sharpened blade to the back of it.

“How exciting,” Issa hissed as the four of you made your way to the na-Baron’s royal chambers.

“We have never had such an opportunity,” Yarina said, eyes alight with mischief.

“Did you see their faces at the feast?” Issa laughed, taking your hand and twisting your fingers together with hers. “They did not know how to feel, knowing what happened to you.”

“I will not accept their pity,” you growled. “I do not need it, when my life is so much better now.”

“Pity?” Yarina asked, taking your other hand in hers. “Why should they pity you?”

You mulled your next words over, unsure of what to say. Not wanting to offend them nor Feyd-Rautha, you spoke carefully. “Because of how they must see me, through their eyes.”

The harpies seemed genuinely confused, looking at each other with tilted heads.

“They must see me as a slave,” you continued.

“Are there no concubines on their planet?” Issa asked. “Do they not know what it means to be one?”

“No, they…they are married and I do not remember any concubines there,” you said, now thoroughly confused by their confusion.

“…oh, pet,” Feyd-Rautha twisted his head back to look at you, pausing in his journey back to his rooms. “…you truly do not understand, do you?”

“What? What do I not understand?” You asked, looking between him and the others.

“Call yourself what you will,” he said, raising a hand to cup the side of your neck in a possessive way, “concubine. Pet. Darling. But you are mine, whatever you are. You bear no crown, but any heir you give me would be legitimate. You belong to a Great House with wealth and power far beyond that of your old masters’, and now, in the eyes of House Harkonnen and the Imperium, you are far more important than them.”

“I…am?” You asked.

“Of course,” Yarina laid a hand on your shoulder.

“It is nost pity they will feel towards you,” Issa said. “It is fear.”

-0-

Feyd-Rautha gave the Lord and Lady of your home planet precisely ten Giedi Prime minutes to prepare themselves before the four of you arrived at their guest room. You could imagine them scrambling, forever obsessed with their image and always wanting to impress the greater Houses. At this time of night, the Lady would have already been changing into her robes for sleeping, and once upon a time, you would have been the one dressing her for this seemingly impromptu visit. Tonight, you were assisted by your own servant, who dressed you in another smooth black dress that clung to you like a second skin.

As your arrival was announced by one of the guards at the door, it slid open to reveal plain living chambers. You recalled the rooms in the guest wing from your brief time staying in your own, when what had been intended as a brief visit to Giedi Prime became a permanent move. The walls were bare, the furniture sparse, and the suite’s inhabitants looked sorely out of place amongst the brushed steel and industrial trimmings.

They appeared flustered, dressed in heavy, opulent evening wear. It would be strange to host anyone so late in the day, and downright shocking to receive the na-Baron himself, someone who could—and should—have demanded they come to him and not the other way round. Yet there stood Feyd-Rautha with his entourage, hands folded neatly behind his back, knives sheathed at his sides. You stood behind his right shoulder, facing the people you once served, looking at them through different eyes. They seemed so strange to you now, so foreign; you could barely remember how it felt to braid hair like theirs, or handle the textiles they wore. You had grown used to the Harkonnen customs that surrounded you, and the ways of your own birth house had become entirely alien.

“Na-Baron, this is quite a surprise!” The Lord said nervously as he rose from his seat.

“The feast was positively divine,” the Lady added, standing as well.

“To what do we owe such an honor?”

Feyd-Rautha simply watched them for a long moment, looking on as they quickly grew uncomfortable beneath his scrutinizing gaze.

“We are not here to speak about the feast.” He finally said.

“O-oh?” The Lord stammered. “Please, how may we be of assistance, na-Baron?”

“You recall the pet I obtained from you.” Feyd said bluntly.

“The handmaiden?” The Lady asked, glancing away from him to look at his companions. “Yes, of course.”

“It was an honor to supply a servant to the esteemed na-Baron of House Harkonnen,” the Lord added. “Would you like more? We have several with us—“

“No.” Feyd-Rautha interrupted with a glare. “I have no need for more.”

You felt your heart swell with a smug pride.

“I came to show what’s been done with your former slave,” he said.

“Oh, no, na-Baron, we of our House do not keep slaves—“

“Shh,” the Lady hissed sharply, silencing her husband as Feyd-Rautha stepped aside to reveal his darlings in full.

You stood between the others, watching from your place in line as the Lord and Lady looked at each other uneasily. When their eyes turned to you, there almost seemed to be a spark of recognition there…but when they saw Issa and Yarina, it faded, and you realized they had no clue which one was you.

“Surely she is not here with us,” the Lord said, glancing to the na-Baron.

“Harkonnen beauty treatments,” Feyd said, grinning and revealing his black teeth. “And my own strict regimen.”

“And how have you been…enjoying her?” The Lady asked.

“Ask her yourself.”

Her eyes passed over you twice. “Is that you, my dear?”

Issa hissed.

The Lady looked even more uncomfortable, and it was then that you chose to take pity on her and stepped forward.

“I must admit, I am a bit disappointed,” you said, facing her evenly. “We used to spend so much time together, after all.”

“There you are!” She exclaimed, placing a hand over her chest in melodramatic relief. “Tell me, how do you fare? It has been so difficult finding a new handmaiden of your caliber. Good help can be so tricky, you understand.”

She looked to the na-Baron as if he could relate. He offered nothing but a slight grimace in return.

“When I was informed that I was to stay on Giedi Prime, I thought the world was ending.” You admitted. “Everything I had ever known was suddenly so far away, completely out of my grasp…and I was left in the care of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, a man whose reputation precedes him throughout the galaxy.”

“It was just business, you understand,” the Lord said.

“Business?” You asked, looking to him with your black, unblinking eyes.

“Well…yes,” he shifted uncomfortably.

“Darling, we would never have given you up for anything less than your worth,” the Lady said.

You wanted to recoil, but you held firm, your voice even when you spoke. “Only the na-Baron may call me that.”

“I beg your pardon?” She scoffed.

Issa and Yarina hissed quietly.

“Feyd-Rautha is the only one permitted to call me that.” You repeated.

“Call you what?”

“Darlin’…are you certain you do not want them dead?” Feyd interjected, one of his knives suddenly unsheathed.

The Lord and Lady both suddenly paled.

“Th-there’s no need for that!” The Lord stammered quickly. “My wife meant no harm, na-Baron—“

“Do not apologize to me.” Feyd-Rautha growled. “Apologize to her.”

The Lady looked as if she would rather drink the black sludge in the Harkonnen spa. “Na-Baron, she is a handmaiden—“

“I am a concubine,” you said sternly, mustering as much confidence as you could in that moment. “And you are a guest in my home.” You stepped forward to face her more evenly, staring at her. In the past, she had always seemed larger than life, and though you knew much more of her personal life than most on her planet, she has always been glamorous and untouchable. Now, you saw that she was simply a woman—much in the same way that your lovely Feyd was simply a man.

“Remind them to fear you,” you heard Yarina hiss quietly from behind you.

“I’m hungry…” Issa whined.

“Patience,” Feyd-Rautha muttered.

“I am the reason we are here now,” you said to the Lady. “It was my choice to come to this room and face you.”

“Why, then?” She asked, holding her chin high as she looked down her nose at you.

“So that you might see what became of the servant girl you left behind.”

“Am i to feel ashamed, then?” She asked. “We did what we felt was right.”

“You sold me.”

“Tell me, then, are you not happy here?”

“I am.” You admitted. “And I do not doubt you have lost no sleep over me. I suppose I chose to come here to see you again…to look you in the eye as an equal and ask myself why I ever thought you were my superior.”

Her face twisted then as she tried to hold herself back. Had you spoken to her in such a way while in her service, you no doubt would have received a lashing—but now, with Feyd-Rautha and two ravenous harpies mere steps away, she didn’t dare touch you.

“You were the final thing connecting me to my old life,” you said. “A part of me wanted to find out if I would miss it. If seeing you again would provoke some sort of longing inside me. But…I am very pleased to find that I feel nothing of the kind.”

“Then what is next, Lady Harkonnen?” She asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I will have your tongue served on a platter if you do not learn to hold it.” 

She blinked in shock.

“I once thought you to be some great and noble creature,” you wrinkled your nose. “But you are only a person. How silly i once was, to have ever feared you, when you should be the one who fears me.”

You turned your back on her then, returning to Feyd-Rautha. He stood with the others, testing his blade’s sharpness with his own fingertips out of boredom.

“Finished?” He asked.

“We are done here,” you replied.

“Do you feel better?”

“I do.”

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, smearing dark blood over your skin. “Let us leave.”

You felt your former mistress watching you as you fell in behind him and exited the room, and you could imagine her anger and confusion. You had no doubt given her too much to dwell on for the night, but your own heart felt a bit lighter now, and any doubts you may have had that Giedi Prime was truly your home had been thoroughly snuffed out.

“I wanted to taste them,” Issa hissed.

“Exotic food is so difficult to come by…” Yarina sighed, taking your arm in hers.

“Harder to kill leaders of the Great Houses,” Feyd glanced over his shoulder. “There are more questions asked.”

“Killing them would not have solved anything,” you said.

“It would have solved my hunger.” Issa said.

“We will find you fresh lungs,” Feyd grinned. “A snack, before bed.”

You saw her return the grin, her sharp, black teeth glistening in the low light of the corridor. When she looked to you excitedly, you found her joy to be infectious, and smiled back at her.

-0-

“Feyd?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Will you join me in the bath?”

He looked to where the others were sleeping in his bed, a tangle of limbs, both covered in bite marks the same as you. “You do not wish to sleep?”

“Not yet,” you said, standing before him.

He offered you as sympathetic a look as he was capable of and stood, placing a hand on the back of your neck as he steered you to his personal spa room.

The door slid open to reveal the steamy bath, always prepared and heated so that it may be used at any hour. There were no Harkonnen slaves lingering near the walls, leaving the two of you alone together for the first time that day. While Issa and Yarina slept peacefully, you slipped into the oily black pool, aided by Feyd, who joined you not long after.

He sat against the wall and pulled you into his lap, sighing and closing his eyes as he relaxed. “Something troubles you.”

You turned, resting your cheek on his chest as you gazed up at him. “I have been…curious about something you said this evening.”

He cracked an eye open to look at you. “Tell me.”

“Do you desire an heir?”

“I must secure my legacy,” he answered simply.

“Then why have you not yet?”

Both eyes were open now as you looked at you. “What do you mean, pet?”

“If you want an heir, why do you not have one?” You asked.

“They cannot conceive.”

His words were plain, and yet they struck you.

“Issa and Yarina?”

He nodded once. “Many of those on Giedi Prime are not fertile. They are no exception.”

“Oh…”

“Do not pity them. They have little interest in the entire ordeal.”

“Then how does House Harkonnen reproduce, if fertility is such a problem?”

“Treatments,” he shrugged slightly. “Many infants are too weak to live. We do not have large families. Only the strongest can survive on this planet.”

“Like you?”

“Yes.” He said smugly. “And my heirs.”

“So you do want them.”

“Will you give them to me?”

You pushed back against his chest to stare at him. “Me?”

“Yes.” He said as if it were obvious. “Who else?”

“A wife, perhaps?”

“I do not want one.”

“What if you must marry for politics?”

��Then she will be a lonely wife. You three are all I want.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you back against his chest. “You will give me an heir. In time.

“Yes, Feyd,” you sighed, pleased with your new distinction amongst your companions. “I will.”

“You know I care for you.”

“Yes.”

“I would kill for you.”

“I have seen you do it.”

“Not only for fresh food,” he said. “For any reason. I would have killed your former owners. I wanted to.”

“I thought you said it was more complicated?” You teased.

“It is. But I would have done it.”

You smiled as you melted against him. “I know you would have, Feyd. And one day, perhaps I will kill for you.”

He smirked. “I have no doubt you will, darling. Now…relax with me.”

He leaned his head back once more and sighed, and you closed your eyes, content within the warmth of the oil and blood.

[navybrat817]

Focus

Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.

It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.

With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.

Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.

Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.

His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.

Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.

A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.

The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.

You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.

The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.

He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

Who wouldn’t fall for him?

You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.

“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.

You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.

“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?

The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”

Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.

“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”

Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”

“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”

You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.

You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.

“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”

“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”

“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”

“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.

Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”

Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.

He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”

You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.

Because why would he like you?

“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”

Which you did.

Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.

Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.

And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.

They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[sukified]

— his favorite ho.

❀ katsuki b. x fem!reader

❀ outline. teeny tiny drabble because i saw a car sex twt vid and it made me miss kats

❀ w. 18+ content, dirty talk, very light assplay, katsuki has anger issues, riding, car sex

❀ do not repost thx

katsuki has had a long fuckin’ day.

higher ups yapping in his ear and telling him that his poor attitude towards civilians has become a daily topic and he’s had enough. everyone who knew of the pro knew that his temper was short, that he wasn’t saving people to be friendly. no, he was doing his job, keeping japan safe and sound under his supervision without fake flowery bullshit.

not only that, his anger management classes have been kicking his ass. it was a requirement as soon as they threw katsuki on the front lines— he needed to attend regular sessions. it was believed that going to talk about his feelings, forced out of his protective shell of aggression and anger, would improve his performance.

whatever the hell that meant.

you know full and well how katsuki has been feeling about his current predicament. he brought it up all the time over whatever fancy dinner he treated you to, complaining about responsibility and growth and the likes. the man simply needed emotional guidance, he needed to learn healthier ways to deal with his feelings and mental hurdles because they were strong. everything about him was so very strong.

though, when he didn’t feel like running an irritated hand through his mop of thick ash hair while he spewed profanities about his braindead therapist or his dick-sucking bosses, he’d keep you stuffed.

it was a particularly taxing day on his end, seeing as though spring tends to bring out the evil motives and the villains. popping off explosions and knocking wrongdoers the fuck out could only go so far for his stress, for his mental constipation.

no, today he needed more. he needed to shut his brain up, needed to direct the anger and resentment and frustration elsewhere. what better way to deal with his problems than take it out on his pretty baby?

“been forever since i’ve given you good dick, hah?” katsuki hisses as his head lolls back lazily, thunking against the sleek leather of his backseat, rough hand planted limply on the curve of your waist. you look godsend hovering over him, your shoulders flexing as you grip on his thick thighs, trembling like a goddamn leaf as you fight to keep yourself up.

he’s got you riding him because he’d be damned if he put any extra effort into the shitty day. today was your day to take control, a rare one because he couldn’t be bothered. katsuki had called you up as soon as his patrol ended, voice void of emotion in fear that he’d end up snapping at you for any minuscule reason. after all, you hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve his berating.

your pussy cries and sobs as you bounce on his cock sensually, the strain making your mind fog up and blank on your train of thought. it was almost a routine for the pro to use your body for a nice shutdown, you felt it was the best way to thank him as a citizen. he sought you out on his worst days and you never failed to follow through, something he fucking adores about you.

his jaw is slack, blonde stubble decorating his skin, tongue slithering out to lick at his lips. you were so damn wet and tight around him, it was just enough to help him block out the spiel he had received earlier in the day about working on his rescue skills. nah, he didn’t need to change himself for the sake of others, you seemed to like him just as he was.

“shit, you’re filth. jus’ a filthy girl,” the sound of his voice, mumbled and distant, makes your cunt throb. your walls suction him tight, coating him in a glossy mess of your pussy drool. he swears he could die happy right here and his mind is nearly blank as he slips a thumb in your ass, huffing out a quiet chuckle at the way your back arches immediately.

no matter how nasty his attitude can be, you come back for more. you always do.

[l1tw1ck]

Clingy

bottom!afab!sub John Doe x top!masc!dom Reader

☆ Word Count: 958 ☆

↳ [REQUEST] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Yandere, Face Fucking, Sir Kink, Riding, Nipple Sucking, Orgasm Delay, Squirting, Creampie

You can't go a day without John Doe by your side or at a distance. Everywhere you go, they follow. No matter where. It was starting to get annoying. They even kill people for you, all those close to you are gone and all you’re left with is John.

John clings onto your arm as you walk home, their signature grin on their face. “Can we do it today?” He asks, rubbing his head on your arm.

You sigh. “Sure.” You reply, stepping into your house. You don't have much patience to deal with them today so at least they'll do something worth your while. Having sex is one of the few instances in which you're not annoyed with his presence.

You plop down onto the couch and John scurries over to slot himself in between your open legs, wasting no time getting your length out of its confines. They tuck their hair behind their ears before darting their tongue out and licking the tip of your cock. John drags their long tongue along your shaft, wrapping the unnatural appendage around it and getting you hard. You groan in pleasure as his warm mouth swallows your cock, his tongue still wrapped around your length as he sucks you off. He looks into your eyes as he does so, a red blush strewn across his cheeks.

You grip his hair and force him to move faster, his previous pace too slow for you. John moans as you fuck his face, happily letting you take over. He doesn't gag or drag his teeth along your shaft, one of the few things you love about him. He makes for a good cock sleeve. He reaches down into his pants to touch himself, jerking off his bottom growth as you make a mess of him. You make him deep throat you while letting out sounds of pleasure as he takes your cock without issue. John speeds up his hand movements, loving the noises you make. It tells him that he’s making you feel this good, that his mouth is bringing you this much pleasure.

“You’re better off as my cock sleeve.” You roll your head back. John blushes even harder, eyes rolling back as he orgasms. His moans vibrate along your shaft, bringing you closer to your peak. You pick up the pace, aggressively fucking his mouth before slowing down and dumping your load down his throat.

You pull John off of you, a cute expression on his face that almost makes you forget why he annoys you so much.

“Mo- more..?” He looks at you sweetly.

“If you stop following me around and killing off every person I talk to, I’ll give you more.”

If they stop, will you keep giving them what they want? Just the idea of it makes them excited. “Okay!” They grin.

You stand up and force them to lay on the floor stomach first. John raises their ass high and looks back at you with an intense and excited expression. You unzip their jeans and tug them down, not surprised to see how damp his underwear is. After taking off his boxers, you align your length with his hole and shove yourself inside their warm and welcoming pussy. John bites their lip, eyes rolling back as you fuck into him roughly.

“Yes!” John moans like a shameless slut. “Harder!”

“You don't get to make orders, whore.” You spank their ass.

They moan in response. “Sorry, sir~!”

You grip John’s waist tightly, fucking him even harder. You use your other hand to grab his hair and pull him back. His mouth hangs open, more moans falling out of him. “If you're good, I’ll come inside.”

They shiver. “I- I’ll be guh- good, sir~! So good~!”

“Yeah? You won't come before me, right?”

“I pro- promise!” They nod rapidly. They always come first but now that they're presented with a reward, they’ll try harder to hold back.

“That's a good demon.” You flip them onto their back and push up their shirt. You grope his breast, your mouth occupying the other, and start fucking him at the same pace. John rolls their head back, literally drooling as you stimulate all but one of their pleasure points. They're not sure if they can keep their promise anymore.

“Wa- wait-” They feel their orgasm quickly approaching. “I wah- wanna ride you, sir!”

You stop completely. “..Okay.” You pick him up and sit down on the couch with him still on your cock. John pulls their shirt off completely and starts riding you, moving slowly and sensually. You grope his chest, returning to once again give them the love they deserve. John moans softly as you suck on their nipple.

“Does it feel good?” They ask, gyrating their hips.

You pull away for a moment. “Yeah, move a little faster.”

They pick up the pace, rising up before forcefully slamming down onto your cock. Your moans are muffled by his breast but he can tell you like it. “Are you gonna come, sir?”

You take your mouth away from his chest and nod. You lean back, reaching your peak. John stares at you intensely, focused on how attractive they think you look when you orgasm. A grin grows on their face as soon as they feel your cum flooding their insides. They slow their movements to a halt and wait for your instructions. You rub their clit in circles, causing them to subconsciously roll their hips. You don't mind the slightly overwhelming sensation and help him get to his peak. John holds onto your shoulders and throws his head back, squirting.

“You’ll be good from now on, right? No more killing or stalking.”

“I promise.” John nods, looking at you hazily.

[damnhotmsimmons]

Pros and Cons of Criminal Minds: Evolution

Pros:

characters get to swear

grey haired Emily Prentiss

JJ in short sleeves and casual wear

Tara having a girlfriend with Rebecca

Emily and JJ getting high

Elias being both a hateable and entertaining villain

Cons:

is literally dark, like the lack of lighting is noticeable

Tyler Green existing and wasting time trying to be relevant

Rossi losing his wife Krystall and getting another love interest in the form of Gideon's ex wife

Luke being an extra for like half the episodes

the team making reckless and poor decisions when dealing with Elias

Elias overstaying his welcome moreso than Cat and Scratch

Garcia being reduced to a love sick puppy over Tyler and losing her character growth from s1-15

the excessive amounts of grays and brown in everyone's wardrobe

Garcia wearing less colors than in s1-15

the white men taking up most of the screentime, moreso than Hotch and Reid

[misserabella]

a deal with the devil

demon ellie williams x fem! reader

synopsis;; You had a dream, for your band to reach the stars. And you were capable of anything if that meant you'll make it.

Anything. Even make a pact with the devil.

cw; 18+content! satanic ritual, blood, wounds (made with a knife), sub! and virgin! reader, dom!ellie, possessiveness, oral sex (r receiving), scissoring, hair pulling, own-ship kink! (kinda), multiple orgasms (r), overstimulation, nudity (obvs), blood kink! (kinda), drugs (weed, not smoking though), teasing, cum swallowing,... MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN!

“Okay… Done.” you sighed, staring at the summoning circle you had drawn on the floor of your living room. “Thank god this shit comes with instructions.” you mumbled, cracking your back since you had been crouching down for the last 20 minutes scribbling with the worn white chalk in between your fingers. You were pleased, the lighted candles surrounding the summoning circle made it even better.

You then took the old grimoire, the pages almost falling apart on your fingers as you passed the pages.

“Fuck. I should have really paid attention to latin classes.” you whispered as you played cart wheel with the book, trying to see the right side to read it. Was this even latin? You couldn’t really know.

After finding out the right side, you laid the grimoire on the nearest table, where you could read, before taking the knife you had brought from the kitchen.

“Invoco te, diabole, tenebras, peccatum pro i manu tua, sanguine tuo et viribus tuis…” you started mumbling, trying your best to pronounce the spell as best as you could. “peccatum tuum, tenebrae tuae, pars animae tuae opus est…” the sudden turn off of the lights above your head startled you. That and the unimportant and completely normal growth of the flames of the candles, reaching the height of your knees. “Holy shit!” your heart was beating harshly against your ribs.

Breathe.

You reminded yourself. You could do this. You had to do this.

“Okay… Now for the finale.” you mumbled, pressing the knife to your palm and closing it over the weapon, with a quick movement slicing your flesh, crimson pooling at your feet on little droplets as you hissed in pain. “Age, precor, oro, sequere vocem, ingrediar ad terras, nam te sanguine dicam!” you finished as you let your blood fall into the protection circle, staining the chalk.

Due to a quick flash of the candles —which died and came back to life in a blink—, you stumbled backwards, falling onto the floor and grunting when you had to put all your weight on your good hand to not hurt your left more.

Your eyes adapted to the darkness and now dimmed lights —since the intensity of flames had blinded you—, skin growing in goosebumps when you felt someone or something lurking in the dark.

Your eyes widened when you met a pair of crimson ones that stared at you in fun.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty one?” you gulped at what stood before you.

A devil. With the most beautiful and haunting face and black leather intimidating wings at her back.

Sin in flesh.

“Oh god!” you breathed out as your cheeks turned red, eyes darting somewhere else as you wounded hand stood in between your sight and her body.

She was completely and absolutely naked. Soft skin on dispose for you to see.

This wasn’t what you were expecting at all… You expected blood, darkness, someone covered too…

Not this. Not her.

“Try again.” she chuckled, but then cooed when you would still shy away from her. “Aw, no need to be shy now…” a choked scream left your lips when, after a slight wave of her hand, an invisible force tugged from you up and close to the protection circle. You shivered when her hand took yours in a soft and icing grip. “It was you who offered yourself to me after all…”

This shouldn’t be happening. The protection circle was supposed to safely maintain the summoned demon inside, unable to scape nor ‘cause any type of harm to the caller. She shouldn’t have been able to pull you towards her, nor take your hand by reaching outside it.

So…

“Who are you?” you inquired, shock and fear on your voice as you stared into her eyes.

“I’ve been a lot of things…” she answered, gently examining the deep and dripping cut in your palm on her own. Your eyes hardly tried to not wonder from her face, although something deep inside of you whispered in you ear, tempted you to stare at her naked body. “From the favorite one: An angel… To the fallen one: A devil.” she muttered.

“What’s… What’s your name?” your breathing was stuck in your lungs, voice strained.

She smiled, staring back at you. She and you knew that, by knowing a demon’s name, you’d have power over them, be able to control it somehow.

Although that didn’t matter.

“Satan. Although I go by a lot of names now. Ellie is one of my favorites.”

Your breath hitched, your whole body tensing under her touch, as if it hurt.

Satan? He you been able to summon the ruler of hell? Wasn’t that almost impossible? You were expecting a smaller demon, one with which you could make a deal. Not the sin herself.

She could feel you try and pull away, but she didn’t let you, her fingers lacing around your palm, being careful with the cut.

“You scared?” she whispered, taking a step outside the circle, her free hand running up through your chest and resting on your shoulder. She could feel your quickened heartbeat.

But even though you felt every single bone inside his body shake, from your lips fell a quick:

“No.”

That only made her smirk grow. “Well, aren’t you stupid…” she cooed, and you shivered. “All the cute ones are always stupid.” she muttered.

You gulped when her sharp nails trailed up your neck, taking her time over your pulse point.

“What is it that you want, hm?” her voice was pure silk for your ears, like the sweetest nectar, trying to lure you in. “There must be something you must want to be messing with the devil.” she stepped closer. “What is it? Power? Love?” you looked into her eyes and you swore she could see your soul. She probably could. “Fame…” she chuckled. “Of course a pretty girl like you would want fame…” her thumb made its way to your bottom lip, which she slightly tugged. “Drive all the boys crazy. And the girls.” you trembled when she pushed her naked chest against yours. You could feel her perked nipples pushing against through your tee shirt. “Isn’t that right?” she mumbled against your lips. “I can give it to you. I can give you anything you want.” your eyes were focused on her lips.

You were no fool though, and she could see it in your eyes when you asked. “What do you want in return ?” As well as she could see that you would give anything.

“I want you.” she simply said, and although there was no change in her voice, no feeling of any kind, you shivered under her touch. “So… What do you say?” the hand that took your hurt one, raised it to her lips. You only could watch as her tongue darted out, a hiss leaving your own lips when she licked your cut, cleaning it of all blood. “You wanna play with me?”

And you couldn’t find himself to say no.

-

“I like what you’ve done with the room.” she nodded as she entered the bedroom, taking in every single detail. Some group posters, different guitars in corners and walls, full book collections, a full pile of tapes next to your walkman, a stash of weed… You smiled, picking a little bag in between your fingers. “You seem to know how to have fun.” she smirked when you quickly took it from her, pushing it inside your panty drawer and closing it.

“Could you… Could you maybe put on some clothes, please?” you said, watching her wander around your room, playing with trinkets here and there. She turned at your voice, eyebrows rose playfully.

“Why? Do I make you nervous, y/n?” you choked when she was back in front of you, painfully close. “Or maybe…, is something else?” you quickly captured her wrist when her hand trailed down your abdomen to the waistband of your pants. Your eyes were a mix of warning and that glint of fear that she so well knew by now. Although there was something more…

She stepped away, hands rising in a ‘peace’ offering, a smirk plastered on her lips.

“Alright…” she elongated the ‘i’, as if she were bored. “I’ll be good.” she said, but by the look in her face, she knew you didn’t exactly believe her. “Now. Are you gonna give me some of your human clothes or do you want to watch some more?” she teased you, one of her hands cupping her right breast. You didn’t even look, quickly turning away as she giggled at your back, getting back to her with a pair of your panties, one of your tee shirts and a pair of your sweats.

You then noticed: her wings.

“Oh, right.” she muttered, with a snap of her fingers making them disappear. “Is that better?” she questioned you, taking the clothes from your hands as you nodded and putting them on. “Huh.” she muttered, picking at the clothes. “Feels nice. Strange… But nice.”

“What. Have you never worn clothes?” you inquired.

And she only stood silent. Your cheeks flushing when she smirked.

She never needed them…

“You’re the first one ever to ask me to cover up.” human or not human. And from the place she came, no one really cared about clothes.

You coughed, clearing your throat.

“Okay, so… How does this work? I promise my soul to you and you instantly make me famous?” you changed subjects, crossing your arms over your chest. Feeling exposed. Her eyes fixated on how your tits popped.

“Sure. You can do that.” she shrugged, taking a seat on your bed, your shirt slightly rolling up to show her toned stomach. Your eyes quickly darted elsewhere. “Though all that ‘I sold my soul to the devil’ is mostly made up stories by the church. Whatever I ask for, depends on the person that summons me.”

“So… What is it that you want from me?” your eyebrows quirked, a strand of hair falling to frame your face.

“I already told you. I want you.” suddenly, the place where you had cut yourself —the same cut that had instantly closed after her tongue had made contact with it— burned.

With a quick movement of her hand, she pulled you closer to her and down by her side, hovering over you as one of your hands rested on your stomach. You jumped at her touch.

“I want you to be mine.” she smiled, and you shivered. “Did you think I wouldn’t know?” she pushed your chest against your as her hand trailed up and below your shirt, making you hiss when her fingertips caressed down your hips. “The way you keep avoiding to touch me, to look at me?” she smirked, her lips against your ear. Your breath hitched, unable to push her away, your whole body buzzing and burning up under her touch. She could smell the lust in you. “You though I wouldn’t notice that you’re a virgin?” a moan left your lips when her hand pushed down your pants, touching your pussy from over your panties. Your fingers curled around her wrist but didn’t make a move to pull her away, what only made her smirk grow.

“S—Shit…” you gasped, your head tilting backwards at her touch.

“I don’t think you really know how valuable your virginity is for a demon, do you?” you were now fully leaking below her palm. “We feed on it. Wrath, pride, jealousy, lust…” she whispered. “I want it. I want you.” your hips thrusted upwards in her hand, your mouth falling open. You were begging for more. She could feel it. “What do you think, pretty girl?” she left open mouth kisses down your neck, sucking and bruising the soft and tender flesh. “Do we have a deal?”

Your breath hitched when her thumb pressed against your clit. “Yes, yes…” you nodded as you swallowed more moans by biting your bottom lip, unable to talk due to the amount of pleasure your body was under. Her touch was wicked. Making your bones ache for more.

And if only you had your eyes opened, you would have seen the devilish smile on her face.

“Good.” you whined when her hand left your pants, your own tugging from her wrist for more. “Aw, don’t worry baby. I’ll take care of you once we seal the deal. Now, come here.” she tugged from your shirt, smashing her lips to yours in a wet kiss. Your mouth fell open in a moan, giving her the opportunity to slid her tongue inside your mouth and deepen the kiss. You hissed when you felt burning skin underneath the hand that she rested on your chest, pulling away so your eyes would meet with a new branded mark just below where your heart should be. It was strange, full of lines. Like a tattoo.

Her thumb brushed the rests of spit off your bottom lip.

“Now you are mine.”

-

“y/n! y/n! Please look here!”

“No, please here!”

“Please, tell us how does it feel to be the leader of one of the rising most famous bands in the whole world?!”

“y/n!!!”

“Oh my god, she is so hot!”

You couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe how in a matter of days after the pact, miraculously, a really important talent seeker had stumbled across one of your group’s gigs at the club and later on offered you and your band mates the golden ticket to fame. You had worked hard to release their first song, which quickly became a worldwide hit and catapulted you to the peak. You had been showered with a lot of support from the new fans and offered a contract for years in the best record label in the USA.

And there you were a couple of months later.

You were living the life. And even better, you were living it with you best friends: Dina and Jesse. They could not be happier, seeing themselves finally achieving their childhood dream.

“Thank you!” you screamed over the noise to a couple of fans that had gifted you roses and love letters. They were crying for your attention, what only made your heart jump. You were so grateful.

“y/n, please a couple of words!” one of the interviewers stopped you, the flash blinding your eyes a little bit.

You smiled at the camera.

“The thing is that I have no words!” you laughed, and the interviewer melted beside you. You were a real heartthrob. “Thank you so much to everyone that came tonight to see us! We love you, New York!” your smiled couldn’t get bigger, your cheeks hurting and eyes shining.

“y/n! Come on, we need to go!” Dina called out for you from the limousine, waving her hand. The security guard behind you tapped you slightly in the shoulder.

“I’m sorry I have to go now. But really, thank you so much!” you waved at the camera, quickly running later on into their car to get on the move to their hotel.

“Holy shit!” Jesse screamed when you were alone inside, and they all laughed.

“It was crazy out there.” Dina smiled, a bear plush in between her arms. Probably from the fans.

“We sold out for the next concert too!” Jesse pointed out and they shared a hand five.

They were like a couple of kids on Christmas morning.

You relaxed on your seat, a bright smile on your lips as you watched them enthusiastically talk about how good tonight’s concert had been and how many people had come.

Your whole body was fuzzing in adrenaline. Seeing your talent finally be loved and your hard work rewarded was the best feeling in the world.

But nothing would compare to the screams of the public as you screamed lyrics to the top of your lungs and burned your fingertips with the strings of your guitar on top of the scenery. It was like a fever dream.

“Night.” Jesse gave you a hug once you had safely returned to your hotel floor. Their room were separated though, each one further apart since the others had been already booked or were under maintenance. It didn’t really matter, you’d only be there for a night, and with security on your floor, nothing could go wrong.

“Nigh guys.” you smiled after giving Dina another hug, and unlocking your door. “See you tomorrow at seven.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me that, man. I’m exhausted.” Jesse groaned, exaggeratedly playing faint.

“Come on, drama king. Time to go to bed.” Dina said, tugging from him, nodding towards you one more time before they would enter their room.

You sighed as you closed the door behind you, turning on the lights and walking towards the desk to empty your pockets and get rid of your jacket, carefully leaving a side the gifts from your fans.

“Hard day today?” you jumped when a voice came from your back, startling you and making you turn around to face… Ellie.

“Fuck. You almost killed me- woah!” you screamed, your eyes quickly darting away when they came across her body on top of your bed.

She was on your back and almost naked, only a set of simple underwear keeping her from being fully exposed before you. You recognized it. She had probably found the clothes that you had bought for her and which you always carried around in your back for her return, you thought.

She smirked at his reaction.

You cleared your throat. “Mmh, yeah. Hard day. Very hard day.” you mumbled, trying not to stare too closely at her exposed skin, nor how hot she looked, or how her tits bounced when she sat and got up. You gulped when she walked towards you, only to drift away and get a hold on the roses.

“Cute.” she murmured, but still taking one of them from the bunch and starting to rip its petals apart.

“Weren’t you… Weren’t you supposed to be taking care of some things in hell?” you inquired. After you both had sealed the deal, she had disappeared, telling you that she’d be back soon. Although ‘soon’ seemed to be almost five months…

“Aw… Did you miss me?” she cooed, leaving the flower fall at your feet and walking towards you, her thumb and pointer finger taking your chin for you to face her since your eyes didn’t seem to leave her feet. “Still not looking at me? Even when I’m wearing what you bought for me? How mean…” she playfully pouted and that’s when you caught his attention. She melted a little bit when your puppy eyes found hers. There you were… She surrounded your neck with her arms, looking at you. “You look good. Fame suits you, saw your interview on the news. Looking all cute and pretty for your fans, hm?” you gulped. “I suppose our deal has been working well enough?”

You nodded. “Yeah…” you breathed out. Her being so close to you making your head feel all fuzzy, her voice as sweet as caramel to your ears. “It’s been amazing.” you almost moaned when her fingers dipped in your hair, softly scratching and pulling just the slightest.

“And I hope you’ve not forgotten who is it that you belong to, hm? Wouldn’t like any of those petty humans touching my girl…” you shivered in her arms when you pressed she chest against yours, one of her hands trailing down to push inside his tee shirt and press her palm just below the seam of your jeans, taunting, teasing…

“N—No…” you stuttered, a burning feeling spreading though your lower stomach as her lips trailed down the side of your neck. There was something about them that slowly but surely made you crazy.

“Good…” she hummed, leaning in closer ‘till there were only mere inches in between the two of you. “ ‘Cause I came for my payment.” she mumbled against your lips before crashing against them. You froze for a couple of seconds before melting into the kiss, Your hands griping her hips for support. You whined when she bit down on your bottom lip, making you open your mouth and pushing her tongue inside.

Your tongues swirled around each other, and she sucked on yours as she pushed you backwards and onto the bed. She looked at you for a minute, you looked so beautiful. With cheeks flushed and lips swollen and bitten… Gasping for air with half-lided eyes. She knew it was taking effect.

Your eyes widened when she got rid of her bra, her breasts fully exposed for you to see. You moaned, breath hitching when she crawled on top of you as she went back to kissing you.

You felt like burning up, her touch, her lips, her hips, her tits…Everything was driving you insane. You whined when she pulled away. You were feeling dizzy, drunk, high on her. Needy, and so horny your cunt was now fully leaking on your panties. You swore you would come if…

You let out a surprised and low moan when she pushed one of her thighs in between your lights, grinding against your pussy. She smirked.

“What is it, baby? Feeling good?” you shakily nodded, giving no resistance when she pulled from your dress up your head. “I bet you are…” a whine left your lips when she left wet open mouth kisses down your neck, leaving marks as she lowered yourself down your chest, her tongue licking over her mark branded on your skin and your exposed tits.

“Fuck.” you breathed out when she slowly lowered herself down your body, hands getting under your panties and pulling them down your legs. You were soaked, your tight hole twitching for something to fill you up.

Her mouth watered at the sight, her tongue sliding from your entrance to your clit as your hips jerked and one of your hands unconsciously laced on her hair. You whimpered when she sucked on it, hollowing her cheeks as she cleaned your folds of every remaining of your sweet slick.

“Oh, shit.” your head fell backwards when she started to eat you out like a starved woman. This couldn’t feel this good. It was impossible… She smirked when breathy whimpers started to leave your lips. You couldn’t understand. Why did you feel on fire. Had she done something to you? Had she cursed you? Why was it that you didn’t seem able to control yourself when she was around you? Maybe it was simply her. With her perfect body and wicked face. Maybe it was because she were a demon and you only a mere human. But you swore that you were in heaven with her lips latched to your cunt, with your her bouncing with every movement of her body, with her pretty emerald eyes looking up at you. “What have you done to me?” you breathed out, moaning as your hips started to thrust upwards against her mouth.

She knew how you were feeling. It was one of the effects of your bond, of her spit and her touch. Humans were not supposed to meddle about with devils, for they’d become obsessed, addicted.

“That’s right baby, moan for me. Let those fans waiting downstairs for you hear you. Let them hear who you belong to.” she teased you as she slowly pumped one of her fingers inside your tight and warm walls, making you scream.

“Fuck!” you moaned, loud enough for those next to your room to hear, probably the whole floor. “Fuck, Ellie.” you whimpered, her own pussy throbbing at your innocent and sweet reactions. She would brand your face when she pushed the second finger in on her brain if she could. How you moaned and shook when she curled her fingers and found your g spot.

You were gonna cum, fuck, you were gonna cum so fucking hard you would probably die.

She could feel it, feel it in the way your hands gripped her head and your hips started to fuck upwards, fucking her mouth. She let you, taking everything you would give her, using her tongue to drive you insane, her spit dribbling down her chin.

“Ellie!” you whined when her free hand took your hip to push you down on the mattress and keep you still.

“Don’t fucking move.” she groaned, going back to suck on your clit and making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Her dominance pushed you so hard to the edge that you started to mumble incoherent words. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” you moaned, his eyes shut tight, thighs shaking at the sides of her head. “I’m cumming, I’m-“ and then her mouth was being filled with your hot and sticky heavy cum, making her hum. You rutted your hips just the slightest, riding your high, which left you trembling in your spot and seeing white. Your hands let go of her head softly, her tongue lazily cleaning you up and making sure she’d swallowed everything up, groaning at the sight, her thumb dragging along your bottom lip, all red and swollen.

“Want a taste, baby?” you nodded, grunting in your mouth when you got up and straddled her lap, your tongue pushing in between her lips and inside to taste yourself on her mouth. Her hands gripped your hips when you started to grind yourself down on her lap, on her strong thigh. “Mmh, so greedy.” she smirked, hearing you whine when you pulled away. “You’re still so wet for me.” her panties were soaked at this point.

“Ellie, fuck, please…” you begged, her hips unconsciously bucking upwards against your warm core. She was already starting to leak.

“What’s the matter, pretty girl? Use your words for me, baby.” she encouraged when your voice came out as a mumble when you ground yourself harder against her.

“Fuck me, fuck me. Please…” she smirked, her eyes shining in a bloody red when you moaned against her mouth.

She rose up to let you fall once again against the sheets, pulling her panties to the side, letting her sticky and drenched folds show for your hungry and fucked out eyes. “You want this? Want my pussy baby? Want me to fuck the virgin out of you?” you whimpered, nodding your head as she got rid of them and manhandled your legs to make place for herself in between them. “Yeah?” her tongue wetted your bottom lip, making you shake and your breath hitch. “Are you gonna let me use this pretty pussy of yours, hm?” she whispered, one of her hands coming down in between your bodies to play with your flit, making you moan and hips buckle up once again, what made her smirk only grow more. “Gonna let me use you, doll?” you nodded in a haze, muttering pleads. You could not think of something you’d love more than feeling her in that moment. Her wetness, her warmth…

“Please…” your breath got stuck in your lungs when her cunt made contact with your, sliding against you in a moan, your open mouth inviting her tongue in a wet and messy kiss that had your head reeling.

You felt like dying.

“Oh shit. Fuckfuckfuck…” you muttered as dhe started to thrust her hips against you. Sticky wet sounds filing the room as she started to rub your clits together. Her lips latched to your neck, biting harshly when your head tilted backwards in a whimper.

If this was not heaven, you might as well love being in hell.

She could feel it, the way you were trying so hard not to cum, your thighs shaking like crazy.

“Are you gonna come for me baby?” she teased you, rocking herself against you. “Gonna cum against my pussy?”

“Ellie, stop please, i’m gonna-, fuck, i’m gonna cum if you don’t-“ she didn’t exactly care.

She continued moving although your soft and breathy voice filled the room, once begging for just a couple of seconds —since you felt mortified to be lasting so little even though you were a goddamn virgin— but now just moaning and whimpering without control with every thrust of her hips.

“Shit, fuck, Ellie, please, i’m gonna…” you couldn’t stop it, it all being too much. The feeling of her wet cunt against yours, the slick of both of you pooling and dripping down onto the covers, the wet sounds of skin against skin and the squelching of your juices… Her hands on your tits, her lips on your neck…

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me, let me have it.” you muttered, rolling her hips in a way that made you see stars as you gripped her hair with one hand and the covers with the other.

“I’m cumming, shit, i’m-“ you couldn’t even finish, since you were already spilling your hot and sticky cum against her, painting her in white. Both of you moaned in pleasure.

“Fuck pretty girl, yes baby, more.” she babbled out, her whole body buzzing with energy and libido striking up due to the sexual energy you were feeding her with. Her walls tightened as she watched you cum beneath her.

A moan ripped your throat when one of her hands came up to surround it and pin you down against the mattress, starting to thrust against your cunt this time harder, faster. “Ellie!” you were so sensitive due to your recent orgasm. The overstimulation making you throw your head back in pure ecstasy. It hurt, but it hurt so good that in just a mere seconds you could feel once again about to cum. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck…”

Your tits bounced with every new thrust, the cum in between your pussies making dirty sounds that you swore could be heard by everyone. It only turned you on even more.

She moaned out your name as she felt her own orgasm building up at great speed. She was loosing herself in you. “Mine.” she whispered against his lips when you leaned down. “You’re all mine, isn’t that right, baby?” toy moaned when you bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw out blood, her tongue swirling around the cut as you nodded. Her mind fuzzy with desire and the intense need to fuck her cum into you. “Say it for me, hm? Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, fuck, I’m yours…” you muttered in between babbles, Those words were enough to pull her closer. With a new thrust, you were stuttering. “Ellie, hm, I’m gonna…”

“Cum for me, baby. I need it. I need your cum.” she pleaded, and you were falling apart.

You cried out at the feeling, cumming in between moans with the sight of her auburn hair sticking to her forehead due to her sweat. Ellie was right behind, completely gone at the sight of your glazed over doe eyes totally fucked out and bloody bitten lips falling open to call her name.

Shee let out a ‘fuck’ as she continued to rub her clit against yours to help you both ride out your orgasms, sparks and stars shining underneath your eyelids.

You then used your trembling arms to sit up and your hands to bring her in a searing kiss that had her moaning in your mouth.

You sighed as her lips trailed down your neck and onto your chest, kissing and feeling up your breasts to make your high last longer. One of your hands tugged on her hair when you felt her suck on your skin, hard enough to bruise it all up.

And the biggest smirk curved her swollen rosy lips when her hoarse voice filled the silent in the room. “You are mine.” her breath fanning over a hickey that she had left over your heart.

-

⚰️deceased

[kerokerokook]

the rebound girl: chapter two

pairing: nerd pro-gamer jeongguk x reader

word count: 25.5k wtf

warnings for this chapter: oc just goes for it, jeongguk is hot as usual, lots of kissing, finally some smut, first time, virgin jk!, subby jk! with dom! reader at first but that changes, oral (m. receiving), oral fixation, fingering, jeongguk does the lower stomach trick from tiktok (iykyk), he's a little shit but it's okay.

other tags: lots of overthinking, oc goes back and forth a whole bunch (she's confused and hurt ok), jeongguk is a giant MF green flag (obvi), vmin and 2yeon being chaotically gay ofc, some brief physics mentioned, a bit of angst, oc has been hurt in her teen years.

a/n: sorry this took 9 million years but ya girl just got into her masters program!! hopefully, i can update this once/twice a month? maybe even more but, that's the plan!

enjoy :)

<3 mal

original post

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The first day of school hit you in the face like a speeding fourteen-wheel truck. 

Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration because you’ve known the date since the beginning of summer break but time flew by so quickly that you couldn’t believe September was starting and another school year was too. 

Soon, you’ll graduate and get a job and move on from all of the shit you’ve gone through to become a whole adult. It’s terrifying yet exciting all at once. 

Fortunately, you picked out your outfit last night: baggy blue jeans, a white cropped tank top and an oversized black corduroy button up shirt. It’s simple and comfy which you always prefer for school outfits. Simple gold jewelry sits on your neck and in your ears and you keep your hair back with a clear claw clip. You keep your makeup light, being that you’ll be back home in a few hours where you’ll just slip back into your pajamas and do nothing for the rest of the day.

While packing your things, you make sure to tuck Jeongguk’s t-shirt that you’ve washed and his umbrella into your backpack, then give Snowball her last few pets for the day while checking her food and water bowl. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours cutie,” you coo, scratching underneath her chin. Her head tilts up, a content smile on her cute face, eyes shut while pushing into your touch.

Adopting Snowball sort of just happened. You were lonely last Winter break after a guy you met in your Economic Growth Seminar had moved on and your mom was talking about how your neighbor’s cat just had a litter of kittens. Thankfully, your landlord was okay with pets and boom, there was a little fluff ball making your day better little by little. After a long day, there was nothing you liked doing more than stroking her soft fur and listening to music or throwing a movie on while she purrs right next to you. She’s a great comfort to you and your friends love her too.

Tearfully, you rip yourself away from your little baby and step outside of your comfortable apartment. The hallway is empty at this time. Your building has mostly college students and a few bachelors and bachelorettes here and there so it’s surprising that no one else is walking out at the same time as you. But that’s fine. No polite greetings necessary. You put your headphones in, play some music and begin your trek to school. 

Living one subway ride away from university is a privilege. It never takes you that long to get to class and it’s easy to get back home. It’s the best thing about living here. 

Plus in the springtime, the blossoms decorate the streets with little pink petals and it’s a sight to see. 

On the way down the subway steps, you check your schedule once more just to be sure of your class load today. You have a 9am lecture, then an 11:30am lecture and then a discussion at 1:45 but those only start the second week of school every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you have classes from 8am-3pm which sounds like ass now that you think about it. 

Fuck, were you drunk when you selected these courses? 

You shake your head. Whatever, not like there’s much you can do now, right? At least you’ll be busy so less time to mess around. 

Your walk down the steps continues and you shove your phone into your jean pocket as you rush over to make the train before your first class, taking out your metro-card.

After dodging some lethargic businessmen and starstruck tourists, you manage to reach the train with a few seconds to spare. There’s a towards the back so you quickly walk over and grab the handle when there’s a vibration against your ass. 

Confused, you pull your phone out. It’s probably a tiktok sent to you by Jeongyeon of a cat with a funny filter on or something but the screen shows the message icon and you use FaceID to unlock your phone to see who the sender was.

It’s a text from Jeongguk. 

jeon jeongguk

hey

do you want to give me the stuff outside the engineering building?

maybe around 1? 

by stuff i mean my shirt and umbrella

You smile to yourself. The fact that he felt the need to explain what he meant by stuff is unbelievably adorable to you. 

me 

sure, i’ll be there :) 

You almost wonder what Jeongguk’s schedule is like but you stop yourself quickly. You tried to not to think too much about him on Sunday when you got back. It was enough that his sweet smelling shirt was on your body and you still had the lingering imprint of his hug on your skin but now that you know he  goes to the same school, you’ll become more interested and you can’t. Jeongguk isn’t going to be the next boy to occupy your mind. 

This year is going to be different. You won’t be the rebound girl anymore, you won’t sleep with guys from your school, and you won’t give in. 

After everything that went down with Wooshik, it’s just better for you to distance yourself from this stupid label of rebound girl. It’s done nothing but hurt you and worsen your relationship with the people in your department. First year you were hanging out and eating with them and now all you have are Nayeon and Jeongyeon. Not that you don’t like them but you just hate what being the rebound girl has done to your college life.

Your mother used to say your college years are your prime years to be young and stupid and learn about life. 

But college is nothing special to you. The classes are harder, people are smarter, meaner, better, and all you can do is push yourself to do the best that you can. Sometimes it’s enough, sometimes it isn’t. Your friends are great and you’ve made some good memories, but so far, college isn’t that coming-of-age life lesson that your mother always talked about. 

You’re not particularly upset about it. You just wished you could do more. Live your life without eyes all over you and whispers at every mistake. 

As the train lets you off at your spot, you make sure to triple check your schedule for the day so you know where you’re going after your first class. 

9am is your Macroeconomics lecture in the Economics building which is fine. Your professor is nice and the class seems interesting enough that you know you’ll do well. Mostly test based which won’t be a problem because economics is your thing. You’ve been studying it diligently for three years now so you can confidently say that. 

But 11:30 is your worst nightmare: physics. 

This is all your fault. Nayeon told you to get all of your general education requirements out of the way quickly your first and second year so that you wouldn’t have to worry about them later but you didn’t listen. 

Look, science is simply not your thing. High school courses were hell on earth thanks to your asshole of a Chemistry teacher. You managed to gaslight yourself into thinking math was easy enough as long as you studied like a mad person and got those requirements out of the way but science is hell on earth for you. Your university requires one life science and two physical sciences. Life science was an easy choice: zoology. You got to learn about cute animals and watch videos about them. First semester of your first year was easy. 

Then you decided to take Geology for physical science during your second semester. It sounded easy but memorizing all of those different rock formations was starting to wear you out from the inside. Somehow you managed a B. And after that, it was either meteorology, astronomy, or some form of physics since every other course required you to be enrolled in the Physical Sciences department or have some prerequisite that you didn’t want to take. None of the options sounded appealing to you so you put it off until now. Then, when the realization hit that you had only one more year after this to make up for all of those credits, you decided astronomy might be the best choice after reading some professor reviews. 

Only for you to sleep through registration and wake up in a frenzy to find the class completely full. 

Yeah, you almost started crying.

So physics it was and, how wonderful, the only class available was with an unlikeable teacher that has a horrible rating. Amazing. 

Panic floods your system as you walk into the large lecture hall. You aim for a seat in the middle, take out your supplies, and start diligently listening. Your professor is a stout, sad, little man who is trying to improve his professor score online so thankfully, he says he’s going to be more lenient when it comes to tests but demands that homework be turned in on time otherwise points will be deducted. Fair enough. You could do that. 

But then he starts going into course material. 

Energy; alright. 

Motion; cool. 

Thermodynamics; okay.

Optics; excuse me?

Electromagnetism; sound the alarms. 

This class is going to kill you. Even if it’s Physics 1 and your class is filled with mostly underclassmen, you know you won’t grasp the concepts easily with all of your other classes weighing down on your head. There’s so much to do and so little time to do it all. 

“.. previous students of mine have so graciously offered tutoring hours so if any of you are confused, I highly recommend meeting up with them and going over concepts. They have taken my tests before so they know what to expect. It is the best way to ensure you do well.”

Most of the students behind you have gone to sleep or started scrolling through their phones but you have a lightbulb moment. 

Perfect, okay. All you have to do is check the list of tutors online and schedule appointments with them. Shouldn’t be that bad.  Another thing to be strict about. 

This is just what you wanted: a tight enough schedule to keep you too busy to think about anything else.

Once class is over, you pack all of your things and check your phone once more. Jeongguk said he’d be outside the engineering building which is close to the physical sciences building. The time reads 12:50pm so you have some time to make your way outside. 

So far, the first day has ended and it’s gone pretty well. You’ll go back home, create a strict study table on your Notion, rent all of your books and then relax for the rest of the day. Then the rest of this week should be smooth sailing as you get into the groove with your new professors. Nayeon and Jeongyeon are going to meet you at your place for home-cooked dinner this Friday( a little first week back tradition) which you’re excited for.  You should look up some recipes and make sure Nayeon stays out of your kitchen so she won’t blow anything up. That girl is incapable of not making a disaster in the kitchen. 

You sigh through your nose, studying the sights you see on campus. Various students walking in small triplets or duos. The occasional lone wolf with headphones on to block out the world. Some clubs are putting up posters or setting up tables to grab first years as they explore campus. The path that is currently running outside the STEM buildings break off into various courtyards and cafes where students of all departments come to chill or cut through to go to their other classes. 

It’s about to be a great scenic walk just until you run into Wooshik and his buddies as they’re exiting a café with drinks in their hands. 

Kill me now. 

You pause like a deer in headlights when you make eye contact with him, stopping midway so your lips can part as your entire body goes stuff. 

Now, more than anything, you really wish you were walking with someone. 

“Hey,” Wooshik forces out, crossing his arms over his chest. His polo shirt is open enough to show a random cluster of dark hickeys from the middle of his throat to the beginning of his chest. Real subtle. 

Before seeing that, you were thinking about apologizing but now, not so much. 

“Hi,” your tone is short. You can feel eyes dance over your body, the swell of your breasts and the sliver of skin revealed between your crop top and pants from one of his creepy pals behind him and you have half a mind to kick him in the balls. 

Wooshik’s eyes bounce back and he juts his face forward like he’s waiting for you to say something to him but you keep your lips perfectly sealed. If he wants an apology, he can wait until he’s dead. His other friends exchange weird looks at the lack of conversation going on between you two, probably wondering if this standoff is going to linger forever. 

It makes you wonder what Wooshik told them. 

Guys love having their ego fluffed. If they get rejected by a girl, they’ll tell their best friends that she was an ugly slut or they’ll flip the story to say that they rejected her to save face. The last thing they want their friends to know is that a girl rejected them. It dims their coolness. However, you really don’t give a fuck about Wooshik looking cool in front of his boys. If anything, you revel in the cutting deflation he’ll feel when you tell them the truth. 

“Did you get the wine out of your shirt?” You ask innocently. “I should’ve aimed it more towards your face and less towards your clothes.” Shrugging, a satisfied smile grows on your lips. 

Wooshik’s ears turn red. “I–” he cuts eye contact as his friends snicker behind him. You watch in satisfaction as his expression changes from surprised to annoyed to angry. “You know what, fuck you. You ruined my shirt. I had to take that hot waitress back to my place instead of a hotel so I didn’t reek of wine.”  

You scoff immediately. “Damn and I was trying to do her a favor. But congrats, looks like you got your tiny dick wet for two minutes.” You start to clap. One of his friends chokes back a splutter of laughter at the jab. 

Wooshik wasn’t anything amazing but you sort of expected that. Most of your hookups are satisfactory. They get the job done and they give up. As stupid as it sounds, you’ve always gone above and beyond to pleasure someone. There’s something amazing about making your partner feel good but most men see sex in a selfish lens. 

For most guys, sex means sticking their dick in and sloshing it around a few times until they feel good. Boom, sex over. 

Now, if they want to make you feel good, it still won’t be about you. Orgasms are like points. They don’t get off on your pleasure but more on the fact that they’re so amazing at sex that you experienced pleasure. Another way to fluff their egos. 

For once, you’d wish for a guy to actually care about you and your pleasure in an unselfish way, the same way you do for them. 

Wooshik stumbles for a moment but he jumps back quickly to get you too. Especially with all of his boys watching. 

“You didn’t seem to complain about it at first. What, changed your mind because I didn’t want you anymore?” 

Oh, please. A plastic vibrator has done more for you than he ever will. 

You laugh sardonically. “No, I just felt bad for you.” You say it wholeheartedly and it's the most truthful you’ve ever been with him. 

His friends then burst into giggles and snickers, shoving him around when he fails to retort, left dumbfounded by the sheer audacity of you but you don’t care. You don’t get to see the look on Wooshik’s face but you don’t care. The laughter is your cue to leave him. 

 That chapter of your life is over now and you won’t ever have to deal with him again. The last man you’ll let trample all over you the minute you show them some sympathy. 

All you can hope is that the pesky nickname that’s been poisoning you since your first year college can fade away into obscurity forever and ever. 

Then, you can just be you. No label, no nickname, no reputation. Just a regular college senior. 

The walk to the engineering building is lighter now. You feel like one of the falling petals gently flying through the sky from the branch down to the ground. A new journey begins and you can’t wait for it. 

After another minute of walking, you reach the engineering building. Painted a soft brown with tons of posters and clubs waiting to talk to students. You dodge all of them to head inside where Jeongguk is waiting by a random classroom. You navigate through the crowd until you finally locate a  mop of gorgeous dark hair and bright clear eyes. 

He’s facing his phone screen, one leg crossed over the other, but you’re still mesmerized by him. Beauty is in simplicity but with a face like that, Jeongguk could wear a burlap sack and make it work. But currently, he’s dressed in baggy gray cargos and a dark blue long-sleeve shirt with some brand name logo on it. The urge to sigh like a satisfied cartoon character is intense. 

You hate and love it at the same time. How on earth can he look so boyfriend without trying? 

“Hey, Jeongguk,” you call softly, taking short strides towards him, hoping that your hair looks good and not like a frizzy mess from the wind. 

His head pops up, glimmering eyes like two black pools of water gazing back at you. Then a soft grin forms on his lips, skin creasing, dimpling, and cute. 

“Hey.” Jeongguk tucks his phone into his pants pocket. His perfume wafts over to you the moment he moves, welcoming you like a warm hug after a long day. 

You want to bury your nose in it and never forget the smell. 

“Sorry, I got caught up with something on the way here. Were you waiting for a while?”

“Nah, I’ve been here for like two minutes. Did you bring it?” He adjusts his bag for a moment. 

“Yep.” You hand him the shirt, neatly folded and smelling of your fabric softener, along with the umbrella tied. “All clean.” A cute smile grows on his face as he gently takes the items and puts it in his bag, humming excitedly under his breath which makes your entire body warm. “Listen, are you off for the rest of the day?” 

“Yeah, I have all morning classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. You?”  

“Same and it just so happens that I needed a walking buddy to the subway station.”  You take the first step towards the exit when he agrees with a short chuckle and a nod. Your apartment building is one stop away while Jeongguk is about four stops away so you won’t get to talk much but the sentiment is what matters. 

Plus, all you really want is to be close to him and his family again. There was a real bond going on when you were young and now you’ve been handed a golden chance to reignite that spark. 

Fresh air fills your lungs while your ears pick up on the sounds of fading conversations, the smell of food and new school supplies greets your nose. You have yet to reach the economics building, where more people know you, so people here aren’t staring just yet. They’re preoccupied with their own lives and you want to appreciate it for a little longer. 

“By the way, thanks for Saturday. I’m sure dealing with five drunk weirdos must’ve been annoying,” you add. 

You barely remember the words coming out of your mouth. It was a slew of garbled song lyrics, high thoughts and giggles and that’s the best you can do. There’s no way Jeongguk was walking out of the night sane.  

He huffs out a laugh and then shakes his hair out of his eyes in a very attractive manner. “It was… well, it was something, I’ll tell you that much. But you don’t have to apologize. I don’t mind.” Then Jeongguk looks at you with his chin tilted down, lids low, almost glazed over like he’s checking you out but his gaze just dances over the features of your face. 

You get incredibly shy with him staring at you like that. 

Let’s hope you aren’t turning tomato red right now. 

“Jimin and Tae go out a lot so I’m used to making sure they don’t, like, die.” 

Jeongguk is like Jeongyeon in that sense. Always taking care of people and making sure they are safe in bed before worrying about themselves. Sometimes, she forgets that she’s allowed to have fun and let loose too and you don’t want Jeongguk to fall into the same mindset. Being the caretaker all the time can be draining. 

“I mean, it’s your birthday and the rest of us were getting fucked up. Usually, it’s the other way around.” 

Your 20th was nothing short of a hot mess. Nayeon snuck in bottles she got her older brother to buy and you tried to take a shot from every single type he brought. Whiskey, vodka, soju, sake, and beer. Safe to say, that was a rookie mistake that ended up hunched over a toilet bowl  for almost an hour. Nayeon held your hair while Jeongyeon ordered just enough carbs and hangover soup to make it all better. 

But it was a memory you hold dear to you because it was one of the last moments you felt like it was okay for you to be a stupid teenager and make a mistake.

Jeongguk didn’t get that moment and you want him to because that sloppy behavior won’t be cute when he’s in his late 20s or early 30s. 

“I didn’t want to,” he shrugs simply. “Drinking is sorta fun but I don’t love it and I never let myself get super drunk.” You want to ask why but Jeongguk continues speaking. “But we had cake and barbecue before coming to the club and my parents sent a care package, so it was a good birthday. Taking care of you guys didn’t ruin everything.” 

You relent a little. Perceptions of fun are different after all and maybe, for Jeongguk, he got exactly what he wanted so he isn’t complaining. The residual guilt fades slowly inside of you.

“As long as you enjoyed your birthday,” you sigh, a wave of something sentimental coming over you causes your heels to raise up so you can be tall enough to ruffle his fluffy perfect hair. The same boy who only dressed in Pokémon shirts is now legal, old enough to do whatever he wants, and you’re starting to feel a little soft about it. “Can’t believe you’re twenty!” You squeal. “You’re all grown up!” 

Jeongguk cringes, turning away from your constant pinches and prods and whining as a few eyes drift towards the two of you. His ears get the tiniest bit red but he doesn’t scold you so you continue teasing him. 

“Remember when you used to hand draw all of my birthday cards with little cartoons and you and Eunchae would come with my mom and I to look at all of the cakes at the store?”

The filmstrip of memories is painfully nostalgic. That one nice cake store a few streets away from your apartment building that made the best cakes. If you close your eyes, you can smell the sugary air as you walk in, a tinkling bell on the door to let the owners know someone was there, and the various cakes put in the display case. You always got the fudgiest chocolate cake with bright red strawberries on top. Your mom could only afford the small size but that was fine. You just wanted a cake. 

Jeongguk would come with you and press his face to the glass in complete awe. Sometimes, the three of you would pretend like you were rich people who got to buy big cakes whenever they pleased and you’d pick the biggest sizes of your favorite flavors. 

You always got chocolate, Jeongguk got some sort of fruit while Eunchae would get red velvet and you would dream of the day when you had enough money to indulge yourself on a whim. . 

Then, when Jeongguk’s mom opened up her bakery, she began making your birthday cakes so the three of you sort of got your wish but those were free. Made with love and compassion until you moved too far to feel it. 

“You still remember all of that?” He asks. The stone pathway turns. A signal that the economics building is getting closer by the second. 

Trying not to think about it, you answer him. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?” You’ve always had impeccable memory but you treasured every second of your childhood. 

Because your later teens, in Seoul and away from all that you knew, were terrible. 

“I barely remembered what I ate yesterday,” Jeongguk laughs, staring over at you. “That’s pretty impressive.” 

“You think so?” You turn to look at him when you feel his eyes linger for longer than usual. His stare isn’t piercing but it leaves a viable imprint on your skin like a thick layer of lotion. “What?” You get self-conscious. Is there something in your hair? Did a bird shit on you without you noticing? 

“I like your hair,” Jeongguk says after a moment, pointing to the clear clip holding all of your hair up. 

A few of the shorter strands come out from the tight hold with time, framing your face, while the rest remain bunched up with a large claw clip. It’s such an effortless look. This morning you were too lazy to fully style your hair with a hair dryer and a brush after spending too much time on it for your sham date with Wooshik. It’s starting to get a little greasy so you plan to wash it tomorrow but this is your go-to dirty hair look. 

“Oh, thanks.” A goofy grin nearly breaks out onto your face but you stop it halfway. “I like your earrings.” You want to return Jeongguk’s compliment with one of your own. Your pointer finger runs through the three thick hoops like a wind chime, causing Jeongguk’s shoulder to rise up thanks to the ticklish sensation, getting shy. “How on earth did your mom allow all of these piercings?” 

Mrs. Jeon lost her shit when a 14-year-old you greeted her with a second hole in your ears when she was coming home from the grocery store.  An upperclassman offered to pierce everyone’s ears using the nurses supplies in exchange for cigarettes or candy from a nearby convenience store. Since she was your guardian for the day while your mom was out for a certification exam, she felt irresponsible but you assured her that your mom was okay with it. 

Well, she had no idea at the time but you knew she’d get over it at some point. It was a second ear piercing, not like you got a tattoo on your forehead. 

“These were all presents, actually.” Your fingers brush the back of his palm as you get closer to the economics building at the end of the road, a little before the sidewalk down the main road begins, as your dread multiplies. “I learned that from you. Convinced mom and dad that my good grades warranted some award and they had no choice but to say yes.”

A dangerously familiar feeling mixed with pride courses through your veins like the newest drug. Jeongguk says he doesn’t remember much but he manages to reach in and pull out a sickly sweet memory from your childhood that has your insides turning into mush. You almost want to wrap your arms around your stomach to get it to stop flipping so much. 

You didn’t ask for much as a kid. Growing up you knew that money was tight so expensive things like the best console or brand name clothes were simply out of the question. But you liked to barter with your mom for more simple things. A good grade for ice cream or a day at the beach or a trip to the bookstore to buy a manga edition you’ve been waiting to read. 

It wasn’t all the time but when you felt like you wanted to celebrate yourself. You earned it after all. 

Then you got a little older and you wanted to become like the cool older girls you went to school with. So you dropped ice cream for piercings, nail polish, and CDs from all of the new idol groups that were popular at the time. Your mom was frugal of course, most of your stuff was cheap from the local dollar store or second hand markets, but she loved to treat you. She wished she could spoil you one day, buy you everything you could lay your eyes on, however the universe didn’t allow her to do that. 

She still can’t but that’s okay. You’re glad you didn’t grow up a spoiled brat. That you learned humility and patience and empathy because it’s those traits that set you apart from most of your classmates. 

“I taught you well.” Fingers itching to flick his chin, you hold back. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable with all of the touching. 

Jeongguk hums. “Got these and these,” he turns his head to the other side to show you almost five studs in his ear, “after my class rank and CSAT score came out.”  

“Didn’t that hurt?” 

You do your best to keep your eyes either on the ground or on Jeongguk as the almighty building comes into view. Despite the heavy beating in your chest, your inner turmoil shouldn’t be obvious. 

Jeongguk doesn’t need to know about your problems. Those are yours and yours alone. 

“Yeah but it wasn’t unbearable. I swear, Eunchae almost passed out when she got her doubles. She hates needles.” 

You laugh. “I remember. Your sister was freaking out when we were all getting our vaccines because she literally slithered down onto the floor the moment she saw the thing.” 

Jeongguk hums. There’s a small break in the conversation as the two of you pass by a huge yet short wave crowd of people who are either rushing to the cafeteria or to their next class but even through all of that, you can feel eyes all over the two of your backs. Especially yours. 

Your department members linger by the vending machines and smoking areas in little judgmental pods,  whispering about you amongst themselves. 

You can predict what they’re saying. 

There she goes again, latching onto another guy after Wooshik dumped her poor pathetic ass. 

Will she ever learn? 

Poor thing. He probably doesn’t know that he’s dealing with the campus whore. 

That word. That one word, repeats in your mind. Whore, whore, whore. That’s all you’ll ever be to them. 

Fear sets in. What will they say about Jeongguk? Will he get teased? Will he find out about your reputation and want nothing to do with you afterwards? No, the last thing you want is for him to get tangled in all of this. He shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. Know about all of the things people whisper about you when they think you aren’t listening.

At some point, he’ll find out. No matter how hard you try to hide it, push it down, pretend everything is okay, Jeongguk will come to know what everyone thinks of you and all of the nasty vitriol they throw your way. 

And when he does, you’re going to have to learn to let go of whatever you two have right now and whatever builds in your heart until all you have left to cling to Jeongguk are the sweet memories of your life in Busan. 

Because that’s how it goes for you. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jeongguk stumbles into his apartment and throws his backpack onto his gaming chair, quickly calculating the amount of free time he has right now. 

 He has a group match in about two hours for League of Legends and he plans on canceling on them since he had to wake up early today. Jeongguk’s sleep schedule was fucked up all summer and suddenly, waking up at 6am instead of going to bed around then was quite literally torture. 

There’s no guilt when Jeongguk texts them. He doesn’t owe his teammates anything, not like he’s joined a real league anyways. He has other priorities. 

Now that he’s a student again, his sleep schedule sort of matters. His mother would cry learning about the absolute buffoonery he was committing over summer session with his new league he met online. Playing various games until the sun was peeking through his blinds and then ordering breakfast from McDonald’s while entering another battle. Usually that would entice him but all he feels is exhaustion. 

Most of it is from lugging his heavy ass backpack around all day in the sun. Some of it is still from this weekend. There’s a reason Jeongguk isn’t an avid partier. 

Quickly, he throws whatever pre-packaged dish he bought into the microwave and changes out of his school clothes into some sweatpants and a different shirt. All part of his usual after school routine. Then he carefully takes the steaming plate out once it’s done and sets it on the counter to cool before going to the bathroom to wash his hands. 

As he walks through his hall, something presses into the soles of his feet. It’s soft but flexible and round with a hard plastic bit strung onto it that digs into his skin.

“Ouch!” He stops midway, moving his foot and staring at the mystery item. Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow at first. 

It looks like one of Taehyung’s many charm bracelets that he buys from those street vendors in Hongdae with the cute little charms around colored string. Jeongguk has one from him ( a black string with a baby pink bunny charm that he wears every now and then). The idiot probably dropped it while singing karaoke or doing his Scarface impersonation to make Jimin laugh. Jeongguk takes his phone out to text the guy but he realizes that Taehyung hasn’t been to his apartment in a few days. 

The only other person that has been here was… you. 

He bends down to look at the bracelet. Were you wearing one that night? Your bracelets didn't look like this. They were metal, not string. Jeongguk bends at the knees and picks it up. The string is elastic and stretchy but loose enough to fit around his wrist if needed. 

Oh, it’s a hair tie. 

You must’ve dropped it when you slept over. Jeongguk turns the thing around to see the charm. The elastic itself is plain black but the charm seems to be some Sanrio character that he recognizes but cannot remember the name of.

Hello Kitty? No, he knows her and she doesn’t look like this. 

Cinnamoroll? No, that’s a puppy. This is some weird purple looking thing. 

My Melody? Maybe. 

Fuck, he doesn’t have time to worry about this. Jeongguk shoves the damn thing in his pocket, makes a mental reminder to text you about it after eating lunch, and goes to quickly wash his hands. His fingers push the door open to his bathroom. Clean white tiles, the scent diffuser smelling of white musk, and his TMNT towel drying on the rack. 

Jeongguk looks up at himself in the mirror. His eyes are sunken in and a little swollen from the lack of sleep. His stomach rumbles as he lathers his hands in his fresh cotton hand soap. 

But all he can think about is you on that night. 

Saturday Night. 

The night felt never-ending. 

Jeongguk was doing his best to get everyone in a car ride home safely after song after song on the dance floor but he was getting a little overwhelmed with all that was thrown onto him in the span of a few short minutes when Nayeon decided she wanted to go home.

Laughing, tripping, complaining about vomiting, a smell coming from some random spot that’s making someone nauseous, Jeongguk felt like a parent trying to get their kids together. His phone was glued to his hands to call cabs and type in addresses while making sure the five of you didn’t wander off into the unknown without his supervision. 

Thankfully, one of your friends managed to usher the other into a cab and Jimin was able to shove a whiny Taehyung into the one Jeongguk had ordered so now all he had left was you. 

Drunk you was something else. Stuck onto him like a second layer, arms twined tightly around his waist, mumbling about something random while stumbling over every step. Jeongguk had half a mind to just pick you up and walk to where the guy had parked but he didn’t want to make your nausea even worse by swinging you around.  

“Wait! Jeongguk, I can’t find my phone, we have to go back,” you whined, tugging on his arm with one hand. “I-I can’t–hiccup–I can’t live without my-my phone!”

You were clutching your phone in your other hand. 

He sighed. “You’re holding it,” motioning to the device pressed into your fingers. “Come on, the cab is parked there.” The yellow thing looked like something descending from the heavens while the driver finished the last of his cigarette and belched loud enough for Jeongguk to hear. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Are you really sure?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay, I trust you.” You mumbles, hugging him close like he was a large pillow. 

The next few minutes passed by a bit quicker as you let Jeongguk help you into the car and started on your way back to his apartment since you and your friends were incapable of remembering your address. 

He leaned against the tough upholstery as the car began moving. Muscles tight and tired. Jeongguk felt the rivulets of sweat dripping down on his neck which he quickly wiped off and onto his pants, something he usually doesn't do but he’s at the state of not really giving a fuck about clothes he’s going to wash anyways. His body bobbles with a shaky turn and somehow, your limp body ends up pressed into his side, head leaning on his chest while a muffled groan leaves your painted lips.

“Ah s-sorry,” you slurred, attempting to sit up by placing a hand on Jeongguk’s mid-thigh. “I forgot to put on my belt.”  Your perfume flowed to him, a soft clean scent, maybe a bit sucrose when mixed with the scent of your shampoo. 

“Oh, the belt is finicky on that side, ma’am.” The driver informs. He meets both of your eyes in the rearview mirror. “It’s okay. Lean on your boyfriend for the rest of the drive. Should only take a few more minutes!” 

Jeongguk opens his mouth to correct but you interrupt him with a giggle. His head switches to you, mouth covered, skin dimpling. “Boyfriend.” You repeat. 

The driver plays along, most likely very confused, just like Jeongguk. “You two make a lovely couple.”

That next statement makes you giggle a little more. Jeongguk wants to know what is so funny about this cab driver assuming the two of you are dating. Do you find the hypothetical to be so insanely outrageous that it’s hilarious?  Should he even bother asking or should he let it go to save himself the pain from hearing your brazenly honest answer?

Jeongguk chooses to ignore it. He knows another turn is coming up so he raises his left arm and nudges you closer to rest on him comfortably. That same arm circles around your shoulders and the top of your head tickles the bottom of Jeongguk’s nose. You’re warm and comforting after a long night, bringing up a slew of feelings he’s been pushing down for years at this point. 

Still mumbling to yourself, you become distracted with the jewelry on Jeongguk’s hand so you don’t hear the questions that the cab driver throws your way. 

“How long have you two been dating?” He asks, turning down the late night radio station playing old hits. 

Jeongguk just goes along with it. “It’s-uh-very recent, sir.” A four hour relationship to be exact. “But I’ve known her since we were kids.” 

“How cute! My wife and I only dated for a few months before I proposed, you know,” he proclaims proudly, shoulders broadening. Jeongguk nods and fakes a grin in hopes that the conversation ends here. 

Jeongguk wants to laugh. Marriage? 

He’s never even been in a relationship before. He’s barely gone past kissing someone for longer than two minutes. With the way things are going, Jeongguk will probably live his life exactly like Steve Carell in the movie The 40-year-old Virgin only there’s no way he’ll get a happy ending. 

The cab driver laughs to himself when he sees the look on Jeongguk's face before turning the music back up. You’ve successfully knocked out on Jeongguk’s chest so you miss the faint redness creeping up his neck and to his ears but it’s not something he wants you to see either. His brain zeros in on his own pathetic state of affairs. 

He’s always prided himself on his emotional maturity for someone so young but romantically? Horrendous. 

Jeongguk has always stood behind the belief that he simply isn’t meant to be in a relationship with anyone. Sometimes he can be too shy, too closed off, and people don’t gravitate towards people like that. They want someone who can be openly affectionate after a few conversations and Jeongguk simply isn’t the type. The only reason why he has friends like Taehyung and Jimin is because they made an effort to get to know him at his pace. It’s the same with you, who was older and a girl but you still made the effort to invite Jeongguk to watch Barbie movies or search for coins to get the cheapest candy at the convenience store. People usually don’t care after he brushes them off a few times but you did, Taehyung and Jimin did, and Jeongguk gets all fuzzy inside. 

Would he ever find someone like you three again? Would he ever be so lucky? Probably not. 

He looks over at your face smushed against his chest, playing with the zipper of his jacket. You’re so pretty, always have been, always will be, like a rare flower. Even after all of this time, he’s so taken aback by how effortlessly beautiful you are; on the outside and the inside. The way your hair falls delicately over your face, cheeks puffed, lips puckered; the way your shirt gives you an angelic look and your necklace lies perfectly in the middle of your collarbones. 

It’s enticing. Jeongguk can’t take his eyes off of you. He never could. 

Fuck, this random reunion might do more harm than good if Jeongguk doesn’t learn to control himself. This isn’t the time to reawaken old feelings that he pushed down for a good reason. 

Once the cab stops in front of his apartment building, Jeongguk pays him and then helps you out of the car. Body limp and slippery like slinky. 

“No, I forgot how to walk,” you mumbled, leaning against one of the pillars outside the building to keep yourself up straight. “Can’t I just sleep here? It’s comfortable.”

“That’s a concrete pillar.” Jeongguk runs a hand through his slightly dampened hair. “Come on, there’s an elevator and I don’t live too high up. You’ll sleep better on my bed.” 

A pout grows stronger on your face, a few streaks of something black collecting in the corner of your eyes and your lipstick is smeared a little but Jeongguk still finds you so put together and exquisite. Still like that rare flower on top of a mountain peak; beautiful yet impossible to reach. 

“Fine.” You peel yourself off the pillar. “But if you’re lying to me, I’m gonna pinch those cute little cheeks right off your face.” Squishing his flesh momentarily before dropping your hands, Jeongguk blinks a few times in shock. 

Focus, Jeon. She needs to rest. 

Getting you inside is easier than he thought. The promise of the elevator and a warm bed with some water turned you much more docile. But you’re still enamored by his rings which you slip on and off his fingers as the elevator beeps. Then, Jeongguk slips off your shoes and tells you to wait by the kitchen counter while he rifles through his things, handing you a shirt and directing you to the bathroom.

A loud sigh escapes his lips once he’s all alone. Jeongguk has about ten seconds to change himself. He’s been in these tight jeans that squeeze his legs like anything. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone so hard in the gym over the summer. Now most of his old clothes don’t fit him as well as they used to. 

Quickly, he throws on his pajamas just as you emerge from the bathroom and hum a random song from tonight. 

Then, he helps you into bed, groaning out at the soreness in his muscles from all of the lifting he’s been doing today.  You don’t fight back too much, clearly worn out, so you sink into the soft padding easily like a little kitten. He throws the blankets over you, does a quick check to see if you’re okay, and then gets into his own makeshift bed made out of a thin mattress and a set of sheets. 

It’s not nearly as comfortable as his own bed and his back might be mad at him tomorrow but it’ll do for now. 

Just as Jeongguk is beginning to fall into deep sleep, he hears you rusting around, mumbling under your breath about something. Your hands push yourself up on your elbows. For a second, he thinks you’re going to throw up so he gets up quickly and makes his way to his kitchen to grab a plastic bag. 

But you start speaking louder. 

“I can’t believe you, Seojoon.” Your hair sticks out from every corner as you flop back down, lips bloated and pouty, slapping around the comforter and pointing to no one. “I hate you.” Jeongguk’s eyebrow raises, pausing in the middle of his kitchen to decipher what on earth you are talking about.

Clearly, you’re having a nightmare. Jeongguk takes quiet steps back to his spot on the floor in order to avoid that one squeaky 

“You cheated on me with Somin, didn’t you? You bastard. You told me you loved me,” whining, your body twists around. “Why else would I let you fuck me?” 

Jeongguk reels his brain back to stop the curious sympathy right there. He doesn’t want to prod further into this bad dream involving a fight with an ex of some sort. It’s none of his business and clearly this wasn’t meant for him to hear. All he does care about is if you’re going to vomit or not. 

He calls your name. “Are you okay?” Jeongguk whispers. 

You don’t respond. Instead, your face twists in discomfort as you continue to mumble into his mattress and writhe around. 

Jeongguk grows increasingly worried. He doesn’t want you to choke or anything of the sort while he’s deep in REM. Slowly, he gets down on his knees to get a closer look at you tossing and turning.  

“It hurts so much.” 

Jeongguk gently places a hand on your arm, saying your name softly so you don’t wake up. “Hey, you okay? Do you want water?” You twist away from his touch at first. “It’s me, it’s me, it’s Jeongguk,” reminding you as your lids barely part. He thinks you register him, that maybe you’re somewhat awake right now as you begin to curl forward. 

But then your hands clasp Jeongguk’s arms tightly, restricting his every move. 

“You’re going to leave me, aren’t you?” Your voice slurs, the tip of your nose meeting the fabric of his shirt, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to leave indents. 

Nothing but confusion clouds Jeongguk’s brain. What are you talking about? 

“You told me you loved me. What? Don’t you want me anymore?”  

Tightening around him, you bury your face into his neck again. Your arms begin to raise, wrap around his shoulders to bring your body closer to his rigid frame. Jeongguk feels wetness from your eyes begin to drip onto his skin, dampening his shirt.

“Just do it then. Just leave me. No one ever sticks around anyways. Guys always leave me the moment something new comes along. Every single one,” you enunciate, vibrating into him, crying softly. “You don’t even care about how much you hurt me. No one cares.” 

Jeongguk is paralyzed under your hold as your tears start to roll down. Your sobs are loud and erratic and painful, as if all of this hurt has building until you eventually couldn’t hold onto it anymore. That it took alcohol and a long night to wedge it out of you. 

It’s contradictory; holding him tight and telling him to leave you.

But he doesn’t push you away and he doesn't let go. Jeongguk lets you grip onto him for safety because he’s terrified that removing his touch could break you even further. 

 He doesn’t know what is happening in your dream to make you behave like this, he doesn’t know what made the previous glee that used to make your eyes bright fade away after all of those years passed. He wants to ask but he doesn't know how. 

All Jeongguk does know is that you were different. Not in a good or bad way but you were simply different.  The happy go lucky little girl grew into a hardened adult. When he looked into your eyes tonight, he saw traces of all of this hurt woven alongside other emotions. Like a heavy blanket that only pushes you further and further deeper into a more melancholic way of being. 

And as he helps you back into bed once your tears stop falling, rubs some cooling Vicks rub on your forehead and pulls the cover close, his brain turns into an echo chamber until he tires himself to sleep. 

No one ever sticks around anyways. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A week has passed and while you thought you could gain control of your physics plight, it seems like the universe has some different plans. 

The tutor that you selected, a second year girl who is majoring in electrical engineering, has been a total flake. You exchanged numbers with her on Thursday during Week 1 and she fed you all of these sweet words about wanting to become friends and teaching in a friendly, kind way which immediately softened you. The last thing you wanted was for some dickhead to call you stupid because you didn’t understand the concept the first time. 

She said she’d meet you at the library that Saturday at 3pm to come up with a schedule and she never showed. So you rescheduled to Sunday, then Monday, then Tuesday and now you just feel like an idiot. 

There’s always some excuse. Either she slept in or she’s not feeling well or her roommate needs her but you’re losing your damn mind right now. 

“You’re not paying her, right?” Jeongyeon asks, rummaging through Nayeon’s bag for something. “Maybe she’s a scammer?” 

You give her a dull look. “She doesn’t get paid by me. I think the university does or she’s earning credits, I don’t know. But I’m fucked for the big quiz we have next week.” 

It’s only Week 2 but the material is daunting and frankly put, you’ll shit your pants the day of the actual quiz and whatever date the final is. This is all so unfamiliar to you and, unlike other subjects, you struggle to find that area where the content becomes interesting. All you feel is terror. 

Nayeon, ever the optimist, tries to lift your spirit. 

“Girl, that shit is next week. Do yourself a favor, find a new tutor, study a whole bunch and then ace the quiz. There’s no point in waiting for this random girl to start caring. It’s your grade after all.” 

“Yeah but I just don’t want someone that’s going to be an asshole when I get things wrong.” 

People love to dumb you down, especially those in your own department. Obviously your promiscuity directly correlates to your intelligence. Girls can only be slutty or smart, right? There exists no gray area. But you know yourself. Even if science and math aren’t your thing, you’re a smart person. You got into a top performing university without any fancy prep classes or coaches and you are consistently pulling good grades each semester. That speaks more about you and your capabilities than anything else. 

“I’ve heard this one guy is pretty good. He’s a teacher’s assistant pursuing his masters degree here.” Nayeon takes her phone out to look him up. “My friend was in his Chemistry group sessions and he was apparently super helpful and kind. I think he does physics too. Let me ask her.” 

You perk up. It would be perfect if you could land a tutoring session with this TA instead of your missing student tutor. Even if it’s a group setting

“Let me know what your friend says.” You look away from the two in front of you for a split second as your attention was cut by your phone vibrating on the table. Flipping it over you see a text from your flakey tutor herself. 

Reading it over, you roll your eyes heavily. Another lame excuse about her skipping out on your tutoring session because she scheduled a meeting with her professor at the exact same time by accident. You ignore it and plan to respond with a passive aggressive rejection to end all of this bullshit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jeongyeon and Nayeon try to discreetly take their edibles before digging into the food you all ordered. 

Steaming plates of rice, kimchi, stir-fry and meats along with a few fried foods makes your stomach grumble. You flip your phone back over and grab your chopsticks, changing the subject quickly. 

“What are you guys doing after this?” You ask. The edibles are going to last a while and considering a weed high has different stages, there’s no way these two are going to be eating the entire time. Munchies aren’t that strong. 

Jeongyeon wiggles her eyebrows suggestively to her girlfriend, cheeks full like a chipmunk, and Nayeon turns beet red. Enough context for you to figure it out, breaking into a fit of giggles. 

“Ohhh, I see.” 

Good for them. If only you were getting laid too. Lately, your vibrator has been your best friend late at night when your mind wanders. 

With thirteen settings, it’s safe to say you won’t be getting bored for a while. 

However, you’ve never done it while being high. You’d want to do it with someone you’re comfortable with, maybe a consistent trustworthy hookup and only if consent is 100% enthusiastic, but you can only imagine how heightened the senses feel. 

Getting lost in thought, you cross one of your legs over the other, thinking about the haziness parting as you ride them slow but deep. Your hands will grip their shoulders, nails digging into the tight flesh as the drag of their length is delicious inside of you. Moaning out loud at how full you feel, watching the sharp bone of his jaw unhinge with pleasure, thick silver earrings brushing your skin, dark hair between your fingers as you increase the pace and drive the two of  you to the tipping point. 

It sounds… so satisfying. 

Fuck, okay, you need to get some control over yourself. It must be the week before your period or something because your mind has been cooking up these scenarios that demand attention. 

And most of the time it involves some familiar looking yet faceless character giving you the best dick you’ve ever gotten. It’s really messing with you. 

How the fuck are you going to be Miss Celibacy if your ass can’t go a week without sex? 

You stab your chopsticks into a large chunk of tofu and stare at the red sauce over the surface before shoving it into your mouth in hopes of distracting you when an angry recognizable voice flutters past your table. 

“..and this bitch has the nerve to look me dead in the eye and go, ‘well, you just lost yourself a customer,’ as if any of us give a shit. Like ma’am I get paid minimum wage to make watery coffee and reheat cardboard sandwiches regardless of your purchase, please leave me alone and die.” 

Turning your head, you see tufts of blonde and shiny boots combined with the soft smell of peaches: Jimin. 

And right next to him is none other than Jeon Jeongguk who is chuckling at Jimin’s whiny Karen tone to describe his awful customer. His cheeks creasing, eyes getting shinier and cute. 

You can feel your body thrum with excitement. 

“Hey guys!” Nayeon waves, setting down her utensils. They turn to look at her, then Jeongyeon and then at you, bowing while greeting. Your shoulders cave in when you feel Jeongguk’s stare on your face. “Do you wanna eat lunch with us?”

“Hell yeah. Is the menu today good?” Jimin asks.  

Jeongyeon, with a mouth full of food, nods excitedly which is perfect. Jeongguk and Jimin laugh, motioning to the lunch line quickly so you save the table and go back to eating your lunches. Your brain demands another curious glance at Jeongguk’s retreating figure. 

What? He looks really fucking sexy from the back. 

Ever since the first day of school,  you agreed to ride the subway back with Jeongguk on the days you end class at the same time and you've come to the conclusion that he is quite literally the hottest guy on the entire planet. Hotter than any other guy you’ve wasted your time with. 

He has the most boyish features but his body is perfectly crafted. Wide shoulders, defined thighs and arms, a super sculpted back, but not overly burly where he looks fake. Like an exquisite marble statue from the Hellenistic period. 

Yes, yes, you know it’s sort of weird considering the fact that you’ve  watched grow up from a cute kid to an emo pre-teen and now jumping to the absolute meal he is now but it’s just some simple attraction. 

One that rears its ugly head whenever Jeongguk laughs or smiles or pushes his hair out of his face or tongues his cheek or does literally anything. 

There are a million reasons why this could’ve happened. From all the time spent together from the subway rides to morning coffee and dinner one night (with all of your friends but it still counts) or you’re thinking this silly little attraction might be a combination of a lack of dick, PMS and pure loneliness. Either way, it isn’t anything major. 

Finding a way to ignore it is the next step.

Nayeon nudges you. “Remind me again, how exactly are you two childhood friends?” Her cheeks puffed with food.  

“Oh, I lived in Busan until high school and he was my neighbor. I would always hang out with him and his two sisters.” You explain, taking another bite of soft sticky rice. 

“Older sisters?”

You shake your head. “One older and one younger.” Wondering why this is relevant. 

But then, Nayeon and Jeongyeon make eye contact, eyebrows raising like they do when they know something you don’t. Meanwhile, you’re just sitting there like an idiot, waiting for context with your chopsticks held halfway up to your mouth. 

“Green flag. Bright green fucking flag.” Jeongyeon whistles. 

“Huh?”  Your chopsticks barely prod your lip without your mouth opening. Did the edibles pull out some secret stoner knowledge that you aren’t aware of? 

Jeongyeon decides to explain it to you. “According to the girlies on tiktok, men with older sisters are usually green flags. Something about learning gentleness and patience and respecting women from an early age or whatever. I don’t get you heteros so it went past my head.” 

You’re puzzled at first. These men all have mothers, they came from a woman who nursed them and cared for them until now, why is having an older sister so different?

But then it hits you. 

The way Jeongguk treats you is so different from the way most guys treat you. There’s no domineering masculinity coming from him in heavy waves trying to overpower you. It’s softer. He’s so approachable and gentle. He never touches you unless you’re okay with it, he’s always polite and kind and sweet. He never makes you feel stupid or inadequate, doesn’t talk over you, nothing of the sort. 

And while it’s the barest of minimum, Jeongguk makes you feel safe. 

Even Jeongyeon and Nayeon, who are often not comfortable around straight men, found him to be a delight. That has to mean something. 

“I…I never thought about it,” your voice goes a little husky. Tucking a stray piece of hair out of your face as your cheeks get a little warm. “He’s just a good guy, you know.  Jihyo, his sister, always kept him in check. I guess, it’s a good thing.” 

Kids lead by example. Growing up in an environment where the adults around you were treating women poorly or pushing people around will appear in relationships. But Jeongguk was the opposite. 

“It is. Think about it,” Nayeon leans in, “after all of those duds you’ve been with, he’s just what you’re looking for.” 

The way your heartbeat accelerates is not a good sign. 

Your chin pulls back, like you’re leaning away from the possibility. “What? I’m not gonna date him, Nayeon,” you groan under your breath. 

“Why not?” She whines, slamming her fists onto the table, then laughing slightly at the indents left on his skin. 

“Because he has no interest in dating right now,” you grumble, remembering his words from his birthday. 

Even if you did try to pursue it, there’s a high chance Jeongguk might only see you as his older sister’s friend. Which is how it should be! It’s best that you let this silly little crush die like a lonely star and maintain your promise of making this year all about you. Your bullet vibrator is going to have to help you whenever you get the urge but besides that, no sex, no dates, no boys, nothing of the sort. 

“Did he tell you that?” Jeongyeon asks, eyes glazing over. The weed must be hitting pretty hard. You’re surprised they can keep up with this conversation. 

Then again, they’re probably used to it. 

You nod. “At the club.” Snorting, your eyes briefly flick to the other side of the cafeteria where a certain someone sits. “Juri offered him her number and he said he wasn’t going to go out with her.”

That seems to wake the brunette up. “Fuck, really? I wish I saw that,” she pouts, leaning on the blonde curled up next to her. Cute. 

“Well, he didn’t say no since you two started fucking hazing him the moment you saw him,” you scold. “But he told me he was going to reject her if/when he saw her in person.” 

“Hey! You were the one who directed us to shoo away any man that came up to you that night.” Nayeon defends. “We were just listening to instructions when we came over to stop you two.” 

Jeongyeon joins in. “Yeah, and he looked like your usual type so we assumed we should pull you away. How were we supposed to know the super hot guy you were talking to was a friend?” 

You open your mouth to quip back when you feel a presence behind you, casting a shadow on your back. The lingering smell of cologne and food dance in the air. A wave of despair crashes inside of your stomach and you really wish a black hole would open up right under to sweep you away from this hellscape. 

“What are you guys talking about?” 

Taehyung Jimin split to sit on the bench between Nayeon and Jeongyeon’s bench and yours. It's a square shaped table with four benches on each side, so enough space for two people per bench. The two couples share a bench while you and Jeongguk get your own, although he still sits closer to you on his own bench. 

“U-uh–” Jeongyeon stutters, looking at you with wide eyes for help. 

“Oh, just some guy,” you fake a laugh, flicking some hair out of your face and turning to food so you can shovel it in your face like a starved person. 

Taehyung laughs a little. “Just some guy? Jeongyeon was saying that he’s super hot and your type.” He’s being cheeky, like he always is, but this time, you can’t engage in a back and forth with him. 

Because the hot sweet guy you were talking about is sitting right next to you. 

Your brain urges you to take a peek. Jeongguk is dressed like he usually is; a pair of baggy cargo pants and a light gray sweatshirt, and he always looks attractive. The fall wind is allowing you to smell the scent of his flowery shampoo in combination with his usual perfume and it’s such an addictive scent that you never want to forget. 

But you can’t think about that. You should be thinking of a lie. 

“I’ve always wondered if you had a boyfriend,” Jimin asks, resting his chin on his palm. A sly smirk forms on his lips, just as cheeky as his own boyfriend’s. “I asked Jeongguk and he said he didn’t know.” 

Fuck. You look at him now, hair swishing with your movements. The boy is eating without a care and shrugs in response. “You never mentioned one.” 

Yeah, because there isn’t one. You’ve never had a boyfriend in your life. 

Sweat beads your palms. There has to be some guy that you can just drop in here for the sake of the conversation. Some random guy out in this cafeteria that is insignificant enough to never cross paths with you again so you can nip this conversation right in the bud. 

You scan the place. There are a few guys you’ve already hooked up with so that’s a no. Some groups of first-years and that’s also a no (you’re not trying to catch a case here). 

For fucks’ sake, are the only hot guys at this school Jimin, Taehyung and Jeongguk? 

“Uh–”

Nayeon swoops in like a guardian angel. “We were talking about the Physics and Chem tutor. I don’t know if you guys have had him but, Kim Namjoon?” 

Right, the tutor Nayeon’s friend went to. The really nice one. 

She sends you a hidden wink from her end of the table and you respond with a quick finger heart. Bless her soul. 

“Joon? Oh, he is so hot.” Jimin, to your surprise, bounces at the chance to thirst over this supposed sexy tutor that you’ve never seen before. His eyes roll back at the sheer thought of him, leaning closer to gossip.  “He was our tutors for Physics 2 last semester and wow.” He shakes his head, marveled at such a man. “He could top me and then never speak to me again and I’d be okay with that.”

Now you’re curious about this Kim Namjoon. Just how hot is he? 

Taehyung jumps in. “I agree, however, “he holds a single finger up, “I would also like to add Kim Seokjin, the bio tutor.” His eyes roll back dramatically. “Dream threesome. Foursome if you want babe,” he nudges the blonde who blushes in agreement.  

Then the entire table breaks out into giggles and with a little coaxing, Nayeon and Jeongyeon reveal their ideal threesomes which you already know the answers to (Han Sohee and Irene from Red Velvet) since they share the same girl crushes. Then you answer begrudgingly which are the two male leads from Business Proposal because, obviously. However, the person next to you is rather quiet. You lightly nudge his side with your elbow to check in with him. 

“You okay?” You’re asking just in case Jeongguk isn’t comfortable with sex talk. 

But he nods. “Sorry, I’m still listening. Just really hungry. All I had for breakfast was a protein shake.” Jeongguk inhales the glazed stir-fry chicken on his plate, a dot of sauce landing on the corner of his lip and, oh my, do you want to wipe it off for him because he is so cute with his bready baby cheeks all puffed with food.

“Come on,” you pretend to scold. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Jeongguk’s mom would weep if she heard about him skipping. 

He waves it off but you can see his ears get a little red. “Yeah, yeah, I know but I slept through my alarms so I was in a rush this morning. Almost pulled a Taehyung and crashed into the wall while trying to run out.” 

You laugh at the image. Taehyung can be a bit of a klutz. At the club on Jeongguk’s birthday, he almost crashed into an entire table because he was dizzy from doing tiktok dances all night. Your head throws back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, and when you open them again, Jeongguk’s eyes are on you. 

They feel explorative, searching every inch of your face like he doesn’t want to forget a single inch, lips quirked up in a half smile but it’s Jeongguk’s eyes that really take you aback. His eyes have never looked at you like that before. 

As if something is swimming deep in those pools of glimmery chocolate brown; something warm and sweet in there. 

“Sorry,” he blushes, turning his eyes away from your face and back onto his food. Your heart stops for a moment, looking down at his pillowy soft lips. They’re right there, moisturized and pink. All you really have to do is lean in. 

And with the way Jeongguk looks at you, you really fucking want to. 

He’s so beautiful. So pretty and sweet and kind and unlike any other guy you’ve ever wanted. The urge to go for him is almost primal that you can barely hold yourself back. 

Your friends are like little angels in your head, goading you on to just do it. Just kiss him and take him and then drop it. Satiate that part of you that needs sex, that needs to fucked just right, and then move on. It would be different than usual because Jeongguk is different from the previous men so you wouldn’t get hurt. 

Although… 

He’s Jihyo’s little brother, the boy who needed to hold your hand when crossing the street, the kid always on his skateboard or his nose buried in a manga. Would it tarnish everything that you find familiar to just go for it? Would years of a perfectly healthy happy friendship go right down the drain? 

But Jeongguk is an adult, only one year younger than you. There isn’t anything wrong. 

Ideally, you could just lean in and–

“Jeongguk, what was the name of the blue penguin in the Backyardigans? I really need to know like now,” Taehyung urges, breaking your train of thought immediately. 

You fly back as if the contact singes you, curling into yourself and placing a single hand on the surface of the table to catch your breath. You completely forgot about the whole conversation going on around you when you stared into Jeongguk’s pretty deep eyes. 

It’s clear as day to you. With the man he’s become, it’s obvious that you are definitely into Jeon Jeongguk. 

“Huh?” He rasps, slightly out of it too. “Oh-uh, Pablo. He’s the one that sings International Super Spy.” 

“Pablo! I knew it.” Taehyung snaps his fingers loudly. “How do you still remember that?”

Jeongguk awkwardly forces out a laugh. “We watched a few episodes together this summer, remember?” 

“Right. Pretty sure I was blazed out of my mind, though.” 

Jimin nudges him. “Babe, when are you not blazed out of your mind?”

“When I’m with you, baby boy,” he coos.  

The boy next to you groans out loud. “Ugh, you two are so nasty.” His voice is muffled by food but he still gets his point across. You bite back a giggle at the disgust on his face. 

“Jeongguk, you can’t be mean to us. It’s homophobic.” Jimin points a chopstick in his direction but Jeongguk simply shrugs and continues eating without a care. 

Jeongyeon pipes up. “I agree. That applies to you too, Queen of the Straights.” 

The direct hit has pulled you out of your internal panic, reminding you to contribute to the conversation like friends usually do. Your eyes dull a little. “Yes ma’am.”  Faking a soldier’s salute to make everyone laugh. 

You’re glad that everyone else seems oblivious to what just happened because you know that had the two of you been alone, the situation would be entirely different. 

And you don’t know if that outcome would be any better than this one. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

On Friday, classes get canceled. 

Thankfully, it’s nothing bad. All of the buildings are getting fumigated to keep out any infestations that might’ve crawled in over the summer since someone thought they saw a cockroach in the Arts building so all the professors decide to post the lecture information online or have virtual class if necessary. 

You had no complaints with this change. Attend class in your pajamas, in your bed, and have the option to fall asleep without getting caught? Sounds perfect. 

Although, no in person class means you don’t get to speak to your Physics professor to complain about your flakey tutor and find a new one which you were banking on completing before you had your huge quiz next week. So, once your final lecture ends, you begin to worry about how the hell you’re going to resolve that problem. 

Sure, you could easily self-review with the resources online but you’ve always learned more theoretical concepts with someone explaining it to you in person so you could ask questions immediately. 

You shut your laptop off and place it on top of the long coffee table you use as a desk. An open notebook with notes sits on your right, pen clicked off, highlighters placed neatly in your pencil case, and the silence of your studio apartment almost starts ringing in your ears. 

Who do you know that can tutor you for physics? 

Nayeon sent you the email address for the Namjoon person whom everyone is vouching for. You asked this morning  if he had any space in his tutoring session but he responded saying that he does but he isn’t having a session today and he’s happy to answer any questions over email or through a video call individually. 

You genuinely consider that option until you look up at the decor in your room that Namjoon has no chance of missing during the video call. 

Now, you wouldn’t call yourself a strange person, if anything you are a well-adjusted member of society,  but the pieces chosen to hang up in your studio apartment would raise some eyebrows. From the poster of Bibble from Barbie saying Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss to the concerning amount of Sanrio plushies you’ve collected over the years to all of the cat beds and toys thrown around the place and the impressive array of diffusers in every corner, your apartment is an amalgamation of you. 

And you don’t know if this Namjoon guy is going to take one look at the place and peg you down as a fucking weirdo or not. You want to make a good impression on him. 

So, you wrack your brain for a different option to help you just before your quiz next week. 

Someone. Anyone. 

Your worst bet is to walk over to the nearest cram school and ask someone there but those are all high school students and you’d die of embarrassment. 

Then you remember, Jeongguk took Physics last semester. Maybe he can help. 

Quickly, you pat around your duvet for your phone. It’s lying screen down a few inches away from Snowball’s sleeping body. Carefully, you grab the device, scroll through your contacts and call him with fiery hope coursing through you thickly.

“Hello?” His voice drips from the speakers like flowing water and you want to drown in it. 

“Hey, are you done with online classes?” You ask, on your back and knees to your chest in a very suggestive position. 

“Uh almost,” Jeongguk trails off. “Why? What’s up?”

You hold back a goofy smile at his distracted tone. “You know how you said you took physics last semester?” He hums in response. “Do you think you could explain a few concepts to me? I have this big ass quiz soon and I don’t wanna bomb it.” 

You wait. The pessimist in you expects a rejection, a flat out ‘I’d rather die than waste my time explaining physics concepts to a 21-year-old,’ but the optimist is waiting with a bouquet of roses on the other side. 

This is Jeongguk we’re talking about. Sweet, sweet, lovely Jeongguk. Not that dickhead that sits in the back of lecture and watches hentai on his phone. 

“Oh. I’m not the best teacher.”

Both the optimist and pessimist in your head are waiting on the balls of their feet. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting but it's an answer you aren’t hurt by! 

“That’s okay! I just need someone to go over it with me. As long as you aren’t mean, I won’t complain.” You want to appeal to Jeongguk in a way that’ll get the guy to bend a little and what other way to a man’s heart than food? “I’ll repay you with dinner,” you sing-song.  

There’s a brief pause, like he’s considering the option while noises mumble in the background. “What’s the menu?” Jeongguk asks. 

God, he’s so cute. Your cheeks are raised so high, they might as well curl into your eyes. 

“I live near a great fried chicken place.” Works out perfectly because you’ve been craving something fried for a while now. Must be your period. 

Jeongguk barely waits a second. “Sold. Text me the time and your address.”

You cut the call after bidding each other goodbye. A giddy squeal almost bubbles out of your lips until you realize that you have about two hours until Jeongguk is in your apartment for the first time ever. 

Alone. No friends. No family. 

Just you and this super hot guy. 

No interruptions. Complete privacy. 

You launch out of bed so fast that you wake up Snowball from her slumber. Quickly, you shower and you take your time to scrub your body with lilac body wash and shave. Usually Friday is your pamper day so this isn’t anything out of the ordinary. Then you wash your greasy hair to rid yourself of the conditioning hair mask you slathered on this morning. After your shower, you walk around your studio with your fluffy bathrobe and microfiber towel on to find the perfect outfit. 

It has to be comfortable but cute. Even though Jeongguk is just tutoring you and there is a high chance that this meeting will only be platonic, you still want to look your best. 

Rummaging through your dresser drawers and closet, your eyes immediately fall to your collection of baby-doll lingerie sets in various colors. An expensive purchase, but you’ve always enjoyed dressing up every now and then. Your fingers dance across the itchy lace, thinking about which one Jeongguk would like? Lilac? Baby pink? Maybe the nude one with the intricate designs on the cups? Or how about the blood red and black one that looks like it came straight out of a BDSM film? 

Nah, that’s too much. You go for yoga pants, a plain t-shirt and a quarter-zip with your university’s logo on it. Then selecting a lacy pair of underwear and no bra. You hate wearing one at home anyways. 

The clothes lay spread out on your bed as you begin your post shower process of lotion, deodorant, a soft scented body spray and then your clothes. Then, you dry your hair and then begin cleaning up the little clutter you have over the place. You’re a neat person, which others find shocking, so there isn’t much to do. You dry some dishes on the rack, reset your bedsheets, light up a candle, empty the litter box, and eat a mediocre salad as you wait for the clock to strike 5pm. 

Time moves at a microscopic pace, probably because you’re staring at the moving hands in hopes that you’ll blink at the pretty boy will be standing at your doorstep. You should focus on something else in the meantime. So you take out your physics notebook and begin reviewing. 

Next week’s quiz will be on a little under ½  of the energy chapter covered so far. You’ve been paying attention, taking diligent notes, and doing pretty good on the homework but the topics still freak you out.  

It’s a STEM thing. You haven’t taken one since your first year so you’re rusty and the material seems extra intimidating. Unlike Jeongguk, Jimin and Taehyung, you don’t study this on a daily basis. 

But there’s nothing you won’t be able to conquer without working. 

About halfway through your revision is when the buzz of your home intercom rings, shocking you out of your thoughts. Slowly, you get up, dusting the invisible particles off your clothes and going over to the machine to let Jeongguk in. There’s a short waiting game, lasting about two minutes, as he probably comes up from the lobby and reaches your door before knocking. 

You’re putting a kettle of water to boil as the sound resonates and you rush over to open the door with a bright smile on your lips. 

“Hey,” you breathe out, taking in the sights before you. 

As always, Jeongguk looks perfect in a gray long-sleeve t-shirt and black sweats. Like the comfy soft boyfriend of your dreams. His hair is a little damp at the ends but it waves a little past his eyebrow as it grows and his backpack straps pull his shirt wide to show off his broad shoulders. 

Fucking hell, you think. You want to eat him up and ruin him. 

Swallowing shakily, you step aside as he grins. “Hi.” Jeongguk’s voice is low, like usual, but a little buttery and less hoarse. Almost sexy. 

Basically, it’s doing things to you. 

Carefully, you lead him inside where Jeongguk takes his shoes off and stares at the place with those big eyes of his. You wonder what goes through that pretty head of his as he stares at the various stuffed animals and the wall art. But, instead, he lands on the Kirby shaped cat-bed at the base of your bed holding Snowball’s half-asleep body. 

“You have a cat?” He asks. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” You walk in front of the thing, squatting down in front of the entrance to hold a hand out for the ball of fluff to sniff. Snowball headbutts you immediately. “You didn’t inherit your dad’s allergy, did you?” 

That would crush you. As much as you like dogs, you’re a cat person at heart or a Snowball person at heart. 

Jeongguk shakes his head no. Then he comes to the same spot you are and gets on his knees on the opposite side of you, watching with curious doe eyes. Slowly, Jeongguk extends his hand out, thinking Snowball needs time to get used to him like some cats do, but no. She’s friendly and extroverted, getting out of the bed to welcome Jeongguk with an excited soft-tone trill.

It’s heartwarming watching her melt into his touch, purring and climbing into Jeongguk’s lap the more he pets her on all of her favorite spots. 

“You’ve been accepted,” you muse, crossing your arms over your stomach in hopes that by pushing on it, that buttery, gooey, sugary feeling will go away. 

“Yay,” Jeongguk cheers cutely. “What’s her name?” 

“Snowball.” 

“Snowball!” He coos. “You are the cutest ever!” Jeongguk leans down to tell her, slight aegyo in his tone. The rounded tip of his nose brushes the top of her small head

No, you are, is what zings through your mind but don’t tell Snowball you thought that.  

Since your knees start screaming at you to get up, you leave Jeongguk and Snowball to go check on the kettle which is at its very end of boiling the water. You get up on your tiptoes to pull out two white mugs and before grabbing your go-to peach green tea packets, you ask Jeongguk. 

“Tea or coffee?” 

Jeongguk looks up from Snowball curled on his lap, the body of a bright grin on his lips. “Coffee please.” When you nod, he goes back to petting the white feline without another care. 

His adorable politeness removes any nerves you had or any prior sheepishness from the way your studio apartment looks. Small and decorated with all of your interests. The only people that have ever been here are your mother, Jeongyeon and Nayeon. Hookups were always at their place or a hotel so it’s a little odd to see Jeongguk seated on your floor. 

But at the same time, it’s Jeongguk on your floor so you aren’t that worried. 

Pouring the mugs with steaming hot water, you grab a packet of instant coffee while your tea bag steeps and you make Jeongguk his coffee. In the meantime, he’s seated by your coffee table/desk, shrugging his backpack off while Snowball sits beside Jeongguk diligently. Like she’s protecting him from whatever she thinks is going to attack him. 

“I like your place,” Jeongguk says, shocking you for a moment. “It’s very,” he trails off. “Very you.” 

You give him a dulled look over your shoulder. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know, it’s got all of your favorite things.” His chin gestures to the Sanrio stuffed animals, the various figurines from all of your favorite animes, the vintage posters, the bunny paraphernalia, all of your favorite things, like Jeongguk said. 

You turn, pressing the small of your back to the cold counter behind you. “Your place is nice too,” you add for the sake of returning the compliment, although it is true. 

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Yeah but, my landlord is a gaping asshole and hates the idea of posters and paintings since he’s scared it’ll fuck up the wall. It’s nice but it feels dead,” he gives your apartment one more look, “but yours has some personality, you know? I’m kinda jealous.” 

His smile is genuine, sweet and kind. You find yourself melting from the sheer sight of it but you hold yourself back. Don’t want to look too whipped.  

Exhaling with some laughter, you start bringing the mugs over along with some biscuits since it’s tea time. “The first apartment we had when we moved here was like that. The landlord didn’t even let my mom change the curtains even though the ones that came with the place had stains all over it.” Jeongguk grimaces at the thought. “But Mrs. Jeong from our Busan apartment was so nice.” 

What a sweet woman. She would often come down whenever she heard one of them had a cold or if there was a birthday and she was never harsh when your mother’s checks bounced or if she needed an extra day because she hadn’t gotten paid yet. She was the reason you thought all landlords had some semblance of empathy but no. 

“We lived there for about fifteen years. It sucked having to leave.” 

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you moved out!” You gasp, shifting yourself to face him completely. “Is your current place closer to the bakery?”

“No, it’s actually farther but it’s closer to the center of Busan so public transport is good. Plus, noona got a car so it’s not too bad.” 

You sigh. Fuck, you miss Busan so much. Even hearing the slight satoori in Jeongguk’s voice does wonders for your nostalgia as yours only peeks out when you’re angry thanks to teasing from all of the Seoul elitists. 

The beach, the food, the fresh air, the streets, you miss all of it. Such a simple time. You’ve always dreamed of settling there once you’ve figured your life out. It was your end goal. 

“I wanna hear more but let’s get physics out of the way first,” you tap your notebook twice and Jeongguk moves to his backpack to take some items out to start the tutoring session. 

And, to no one’s shock, Jeongguk is actually a really great tutor. 

He’s patient with you and doesn’t mind giving you constant encouragement when you get a bit insecure halfway through a word problem. On concepts you’re unsure about, Jeongguk explains them in the simplest way possible without getting haughty. No outbursts if you make the same mistake two times in a row, he never once calls you stupid or says you’re wasting his time. Jeongguk gently coaches you until you try to solve some problems on your own from the textbook without his help and he checks them afterwards, telling you what you did right and wrong.   

Quite literally, this is all that you wanted. 

Someone to answer your questions, explain a few concepts, and walk you through a couple of examples without questioning your smarts as a whole. 

It’s nice. You feel safe and even better, you feel actually prepared for the quiz which is the opposite of how you felt this morning. You aren’t even worried about it at all. 

After clearing through the sample quiz and practice problems easily in a matter of about 2 ½ hours, you two are all done tutoring. Which means freedom for the rest of the night. 

Quickly, you connect your laptop to the small TV mounted on the wall and put on Love Island since neither of you have watched it. Jeongguk is rather curious about it since Jimin and Taehyung won’t stop talking about it,  so you decide to jump into the newest season with him while leaning against your bed and pulling up the menu for the fried chicken place.

“I’m getting honey garlic,” you tell him when you hand him your phone.  

“Then, I’ll do the spicy cheese one.” He leans closer instead of taking the device and you really wish he didn’t because your body reacts to the proximity with goosebumps erupting all over you like you’re a teenager again. 

Your eyes flick up to his side profile, which is literally perfect. His jaw is strong, well cut, defined and his skin is the color of fresh milk tea. You can see little imperfections on his skin like old acne scars, the slightly chapped surface of his lips, and all of his shiny earrings. You love the way he looks and how Jeongguk has grown into his features.  The urge to trace his jawline with your tongue is insane, almost caustic inside of you. It’s impossible to push down. You sort of dressed up for this tutoring date, throwing on a pair of your favorite panties, lathering yourself in the softest lotion; you took all of the right steps and you’re hungry for a certain ending even though there’s a high chance it won’t happen at all. The horny side of you is begging for you to shoot your shot. 

But you stop. Not yet. Not right now. 

While Jeongguk picks out drinks, appetizers and the dessert he wants,  you rush to the bathroom for a second. In the mirror, you take notice of your reddened cheeks and parted lips and the messy wisps of hair sticking out. You quickly tie it back into a loose braid and then splash some water on your face. 

Reel it back, bitch.  

While in the bathroom, you call out. “Hey Jeongguk? Could you get my wallet? It’s on top of my dresser, the one next to my closet.” Might as well pay now so you can get the chicken faster. 

“Okay!” He responds. 

The noise your stomach makes is loud and painful. The salad you had did nothing to satiate your cravings so the thought of chicken, perfectly fried to a crisp and covered in garlicky sweet sauce has you practically salivating. Especially since you’ve been eating so healthily as of late. It’s nice to treat yourself to some fast food.

Afterwards, you trudge back on over to the coffee table and plop down silently while Jeongguk puts in your card information. Meanwhile, you remember to feed Snowball for dinner and give her some much needed attention by bringing her to sit with the two of you so she can be pet and loved. 

Jeongguk’s warmth emanates from his shoulder that is inches away from you while the Love Island intro song plays at the start of every new season. Half-heartedly, you watch the corny antics as each contestant introduces themselves with the main host speaking over and you think about how much internal anguish you’re feeling at the moment. 

An object prods into your forearm. You look down to see the rounded edge of your credit card. “I paid,” Jeongguk tells you. You don’t respond verbally, taking the plastic and shoving it into the slot of your card wallet. 

“Thanks,” you mumble. You bring your knees up to your chest and rest your chin on top of them, hoping to get into the various shirtless tattooed guys on your television screen. It’s an easy task. Shows like Love Island don’t ask too much of you but you can get into it enough where other thoughts begin to fade. 

You check your phone to see that the chicken should be delivered in about 10 minutes. Then you can have food and TV to reward you for all of your hard work. 

The beginning is awkward as each person picks their couple purely based on looks and their name. You cringe when a guy comes in and no one steps up to match with him so he has to randomly choose a girl who was either too shy to step up to say she thinks he’s cute or not at all interested in him. It sounds like such an awkward place to be in and you’d hate to be on either side of the situation. 

Jeongguk, on the other hand, isn’t a reality TV kind of guy. So he has a million questions and comments throughout the 57 minute episode. 

“I don’t get it. They just shove 10 hot people in a house and they have to like each other?” 

“Fuck, that’s how you’re supposed to say Leicester?” 

“That one guy looks like such a fuck boy. Why would you ever get a chest tattoo of an eagle?” 

“What happens if you don’t like anyone you match with? Can you just leave?” You shrug in response. This is your first time watching this show too.  “I’d leave so fast if I was on this show. None of these people would interest me.”

“Me too,” you respond, playing with the frayed edge of an old receipt sticking out of one of the wallet pockets. “I’d get the ick so fast and then hop on the first plane back home.” 

Jeongguk’s bantering turns the simple binge into something more. You start laughing, indulging his every whim, making fun of the guys trying too hard to flirt and seem suave and it’s really fun. You manage to barely remember the way you felt when you came out of the bathroom. 

Is this how it should always be? Platonically hanging out? 

Was it a good thing that you stopped yourself before your desires took over your logic?

You don’t know. You don’t want to either. You just want to sit back and enjoy the rest of this lovely day off. 

After another few minutes of watching the show, you feel Jeongguk’s eyes on you. Wide, glittery, washing over every inch of your skin like he’s trying to commit your features to memory. You raise an eyebrow in question. For a moment, he doesn’t do anything, just stares at you, and then he points to your phone screen where a notification from the delivery app shows. 

The food is here. 

Quickly, you go down, slipping some slides on your feet and shoving your hands in the pockets of your sweater. The delivery person hands you the plastic bag with steaming boxes and you thank them before trundling back upstairs. The smell that wafts to you is mouth-wateringly delicious. 

This. This is your treat after a grueling two weeks of school. 

You bring it up for you and Jeongguk to dig into. The chicken is fresh and delicious and in combination with Jeongguk’s commentary, you start to really enjoy yourself. Especially as all your sex related thoughts begin to push to the back of your brain and the night gets more fun yet relaxing. The food is good and the drinks are refreshing. 

Afterwards, you crack open a bag of  kit kats to share with him to cap off the meal with something sweet since none of the desserts at the restaurant sounded appealing to either of you. 

Love Island is addictive. Your friends were right about it. Two episodes later and the two of you are curious about who is the new islander coming and how they are going to shake things up. 

The TV is on the wall mounted across your bed and coffee table. For the sake of your backs, you move Jeongguk to the bed and take some pillows to lean against so your backs aren’t completely sore by the next morning. 

Although, you do wish your back was sore for another reason but let’s not get into that just yet. 

Since you don’t have a lot of pillows, you share your main one, meaning you’re a lot closer to Jeongguk than you originally planned. To the point where your arms are pressed against each other and your legs are brushing. It makes you nervous to be this close. His perfume is a strong elixir, heady and comforting, pushing you to lean in and bury your face into the delectable skin of his neck. Even his neck, wow. The skin is so smooth, there’s a mole right in the middle of it. You want to sink your teeth into the flesh and use your lips and tongue to paint it all sorts of beautiful colors. 

Sweat begins to form on your hairline. You get nervous with Jeongguk sitting so close to you, hands itching to do something. First they play around with the single star pendant on your necklace, then at a loose thread on your comforter, and then you decide to redo your hair. 

The braid has become a straggly mess with you leaned against things so you pull your hair tie off and begin to undo your braid. At the very least, it is something for your hands to do, keep them occupied and away. 

From Jeongguk that is. You don’t want to obstruct his view or break his attention. 

Pushing off from the pillow, suddenly something happens on screen that makes your head turn abruptly  to see who said what and your hair wacks Jeongguk right in the eye. 

“Shit,” he hisses, clutching his face, curling inwards. 

You begin to panic, turning in on your knees to get closer to him. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was trying to tie my hair and then something happened on screen so I–” you stop midway, no need for an explanation. Instead, check to see if your hair scratches him in the cornea or not.

Jeongguk’s legs, that were once crossed, are now spread wide without your body taking up the space next to him on your bed. Without a second thought, you cross over the one closest to you and end up in between his two long legs. One hand on his shoulder to grab his attention. 

“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly, trying to search his gaze but Jeongguk’s eyes are turned down. “Jeongguk?” 

Muffled, he speaks up. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.” Jeongguk drops his hands onto his thighs before blinking a few times and you see a telltale tear pool from his big doe eyes, dripping down the slope of his cheek. 

A huge wave of guilt crashes inside of you. 

You made Jeongguk cry. 

Not intentionally but still. He’s crying. 

“Aw,” you cup his cheeks, searching his irises for anything like you’re a licensed ophthalmologist or something, wiping the stray tear with your thumb.“I’m really sorry. Do you need eye drops or anything?” You sit down on your feet, leaning closer to see him. “I can go check in my medicine box if I have any left from Spring.”

He doesn’t respond. 

 Jeongguk freezes immediately with you between his legs. As if all of his blood stops flowing through his veins and he’s turned to stone by Medusa. He glances at every corner of your face, at the strands of hair framing it, like he’s never seen you before. His jaw unhinges and the tip of his pink tongue is just barely visible. 

You don’t even notice how close you get. So worried about the possibility of your hair scratching his cornea that you forget that your knees are brushing against his crotch. Nor do you think about how your face is near, you’re literally staring down like you’re about to kiss him despite dreaming about being in this position all day. 

The only thing echoing in your mind is: Is Jeongguk okay? 

Not another thought. 

“I–” he stops, lips parted, “I’m okay, really.” 

Jeongguk’s palm gently pushes your hands off of his cheeks and he shifts in his spot. 

He’s practically shielding himself for you. His legs are pushed up to his chest now. Jeongguk looks like an animal that’s getting scolded for spilling food everywhere and you cannot understand why on earth he’d be making a face like that. 

“Is something wrong?” You ask. Jeongguk covers his face but you can see his ears starting to turn red. 

You inch closer to him and gently wrap your fingers around his wrist. You’re so close you can smell the gentle perfume he’s sprayed on his neck and the inviting scent of his hair serum. But he’s wriggling around like a fish out of water and it’s scaring you. 

His hands move down, ripping his wrist out of your grip to cover up his crotch and you see a glimpse of the obvious bulge poking from his sweatpants. 

Oh. 

You recoil, muscles tightening as your brain moves a mile a minute. Something Jeongguk must sense from you because he starts explaining way faster than you thought he would. 

“I’m sorry! This is–I can leave if you’d like–” 

“It’s okay, Jeongguk,” you mumble. Your voice is soft. 

It’s okay. It’s more than okay. 

It’s better than okay. 

Jeongguk continues to panic, deaf to your obvious nonchalance about him popping a boner right after you almost blinded him. “I don’t–It just sort of happened-and-and I wasn’t like–thinking a-about you or doing anything–it just,” he pauses midway, sighs to catch his breath, stops nervously stuttering,  and then turns to get up which makes you a little nervous. “I’ll go to the bathroom and get rid of it–”

In a flash, your hand wraps around his wrist to stop him from moving. 

“It’s okay,” you repeat. “I’m not grossed out.” Literally, you are the complete opposite of that but barely you mull it over one last time before speaking up again. “I could fix it, if you’d like.” Just before your conscience could stop you.

This is it. This is your chance to have him. Just once, satiate that need, and then you can go back to normal. 

The universe practically handed you this opportunity on a golden platter so you should take it. Given that Jeongguk is down too. 

His eyes go adorably wide. “W-what?” Jeongguk stutters. 

“I could help you deal with it.”  You say once more. 

At least your voice is clear and sure. On the inside, you’re just a giant piece of adrenaline. 

Jeongguk relaxes some more, gulping, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob. His shoulders broaden like he’s trying to seem confident but you can tell that he’s nervous as fuck too. 

“Why would you do that?” 

Oh, you pretty thing. You have no idea, do you?

“I don’t mind,” you shrug. Feeling bold, the hand that rests on his shoulder squeezes the mass indulgently and Jeongguk feels exquisite. You want to rip all of these clothes off of his body. “You helped me with physics so,” trailing off, as if it’s the only logical solution to this problem. 

To you, it feels like it is. Trade an A on a quiz for an orgasm. 

Plus, you finally get to rid yourself of this intense sexual tension building inside of you. A combination of your hormones and your loneliness all cooked up to make a touch-starved mess at the tiniest thing. Being with Jeongguk could be just what you need to get your focus back on yourself. He’s gorgeous, inside and out, so there’s no intense guilt to bubble from letting some douchebag grow an even bigger ego by sleeping with you. 

Jeongguk is still apprehensive. “You… you know you don’t-like-owe it to me to fix this, right? Just because I got hard doesn’t mean it’s your job to do something for me.” 

You’re taken aback. 

Most guys wouldn’t have even protested. Your mouth would be on his dick and the minute they come, you’d be all alone. They’re the types to view sex in a very individualistic manner. 

A dopey smile makes its way to your lips. “I know. This isn’t a really transactional thing.” You cup his cheek with one hand this time and trace the deep scar there absentmindedly. “I actually want to do this.” 

If Jeongguk were to hear the insane things your brain produces, you wonder if he’d run for the hills or be flattered. Definitely the former. 

“Okay but um,” he avoids your eyes, looking off to the side and you sort of love Jeongguk like this. It’s so different from his nonchalant easygoing behavior.  “I’ve never,” he searches for the words, changes his mind halfway through, and finds another path. “No one has ever like-oh god this is embarrassing–”

You decide to save him. “No one’s ever given you a blowjob?” 

He nods behind his hands that rose to cover his reddening face during his reveal. God, he’s adorable. 

“Really?”

“Is that such a surprise?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re hot.” You say truthfully. His change of expression does wonders for your confidence. So much so that you decide to bite the bullet and run a hand through his hair affectionately. “How far have you gone?”

The strands are silky smooth, flowing through your fingers like water, and Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation as he mumbles out a response. 

“I kissed someone but only a few times. I got dragged to a high school party and played spin the bottle but nothing more than that.” 

This is new for you. Almost every guy you’ve ever been with is experienced or way more experienced than you. From the guy in high school who took your virginity all the way to Wooshik. And they varied from vanilla guys to those who are super into the dom/sub spiel. You’ve never been the experienced one and it feels different. 

Like you’re corrupting him, forcibly taking away something precious. Like Mrs. Robinson on the prowl for someone younger whom she can use to her advantage. 

And even though that isn’t the case with you and Jeongguk, you want this to be different than your first time. If anything, you want him to feel safe and wanted and to let him know that, at any point, if he wants to stop then it will stop. Just like there’s no obligation for you to make him feel good, there is no obligation for him to return the favor. 

“Then let’s start with that and then we can move on if you’re comfortable. Or we don’t have to do anything and we can just forget about it. Whatever you want.” 

You won’t do anything unless he wants you to. As much as you want to touch him, as much as you need sex, you’re totally fine with taking things at his pace. 

And if he rejects this entire thing and opts to fix his situation in the bathroom, that’s okay too. 

Jeongguk presses the back of his head against the wall in thought, giving you an amazing view of his jawline, until he shyly speaks. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” You want to be sure, hiding the fact that you are utterly elated on the inside.  Jeongguk just turns more red as he avoids your eyes peering into him. 

“You–we can start. I-if that’s what you want.” 

You exhale through your nose. “Oh, you have no idea how much I want to.” 

Before he can question you, you lean down and gently connect your lips with his. 

There’s a moment where it feels foreign, where your body becomes covered with goosebumps at the sheer adrenaline coursing through you and the way your brain freaks out at the change. This is happening, you’re finally doing this, but you take a second to just press and feel. Be in the moment and stop trying to control everything, then you’re fine. 

It’s easy because Jeongguk’s lips are pillowy soft. 

Starting off with a quick peck, you split for a second, nose brushing, and then you kiss Jeongguk again. This time it’s much stronger. Any lack of confidence melts when your lips move languidly against Jeongguk. He’s responsive to your every movement, feeling the inside of your mouth with his own, while his hands rest appropriately on your hips. His lip balm is rose flavored and delectable. Jeongguk is a good kisser. 

The noises fill the quiet apartment as you move closer and cup his jaw on one side while your other hand goes back to his silky soft hair to move your lips cohesively. You adjust yourself so that instead of kneeling between his legs, you’re straddling his thick muscular thighs and they feel exquisite against you, pulling a soft sigh from your lips. 

Jeongguk must feel your exhale, gaining some bravado to take the lead when he kisses you, setting the pace as his own hands begin to move from their comfortable spot on your hips. Part of you really wants to push them down to your ass to feel those big sexy hands grab a handful but you want to wait to see what he does.

He kisses you a little wet but wanton, igniting a deep burning flame inside of you. It’s bright, hot, and you can’t pull yourself away from him the more your lips collide, suckle, and slot. 

Jeongguk’s hands begin tracing up your back with a feather-light touch, and your lips part at the feeling when he unexpectedly inches his tongue into your mouth. 

Looks like he wasn’t lying when he said he’s kissed before. 

Crackles of pleasure bubble in you. Kissing can turn you on, if the guy is good at what he does, and Jeongguk is doing just that. That throbbing sensation takes over and you find yourself clenching around nothing, dreaming of having something just fill you just how you like. His tongue tangles with yours. The kiss starts to get much sloppier, something you didn’t realize you were craving until now, and you rise up on your knees while gently tugging on his hair in a flash of atypical roughness on your end. 

Your mind refuses to process that this is Jihyo’s little brother who is kissing you silly. Right now, he’s Jeongguk. 

Jeongguk with the gorgeous eyes and the gorgeous body who got hard the moment you inched closer. 

You decide to grind down on him, especially when the curve of his bulge becomes more prominent against your ass, and Jeongguk muffles a noise into your mouth. The fabric of your underwear drags across your neglected clit, pulling another sigh out of you. It’s a small jolt of pleasure and you can feel yourself dampen even more. From the action and from the way Jeongguk sounds. 

Another moan comes from Jeongguk when you grind against him again and again, whiny yet soft. It’s doing something to you. His hands squeeze your hips and then one drifts to the back of your thigh. 

Pulling away to catch your breath, you press your forehead against his. There’s a thin layer of sweat building on your skin but your arms loop comfortably around Jeongguk’s neck, tugging his body forwards. His eyes glimmer at you, with kiss-bruised lips and the beginnings of his pearly white bunny teeth peeking out from between. You resist the urge to dive down again, instead wanting to appreciate the absolute view you have right now. 

Your fingers tangle in a lock of his soft black hair. “You’re so gorgeous,” you whisper, taking in his forehead, his jawline, his perfect nose, and every single one of his moles. 

Jeongguk, who is already blushed and heavily breathing, gets even more shy at your compliment, looking away from you to avoid your teasing smile. Which just makes you want to shower him in more praise just to see how embarrassed he can get. 

“So pretty, so handsome,” your finger traces his jaw before going down to his unblemished neck where the skin looks so soft but the area is taut and beautiful. You want to see how he’d look with hickeys. “I want to mark you,” you point to the middle of the right side of his neck, “right here.” 

Jeongguk’s eyebrows raise to his hairlines. “You want to give me a hickey?” He says incredulously. You nod. 

“I want you to remember this.”

Usually, you aren’t the possessive type but you think about Juri, walking through campus and finding Jeongguk, someone that she’s expressed interest in, like this. Covered in marks you left, reeling after the pleasure you gave him. You know the chance is unlikely and if Jeongguk were to run into her, you doubt he’d tell her any bit of what you two had done but it’s the principle of it all. 

That she can be a misogynistic pick-me/not-like-the-other girl all she wants, you still pull better than she ever will. 

Maybe then, she’ll keep your name out of her damn mouth. 

Jeongguk exhales quietly, holding some weight. “Do you actually think I’ll forget this?” 

You smirk. “Dunno, but I can’t let a pretty little thing like you get away, can I? Especially with all of those other girls who love to stare.”

It happens often whenever you two would be walking from class or on public transport and people would stare at Jeongguk. Not that you’d blame them. With a face like that, Jeongguk could debut as an idol and win the hearts of millions, he could act or model even, but then you become more aware of the fact that someone even better could scoop him up at any time and you wouldn’t stand a chance against them. 

“I won’t,” he starts, shaking his head with eyes so honest and truthful that you almost collapse in his hold. “I won’t go away and I won’t forget, okay?” Jeongguk pleads with you, holding your body still with two exact hands on your hips. 

You swear your stomach feels a group of butterflies flapping about, along with unicorns and rainbows and glitter and all of that silly shit when Jeongguk says that. The hand in his hair cups his cheek, thumb tracing his cheekbone. 

“You won’t?” 

“Never,” Jeongguk presses firmly. “And,” he hesitates for a moment, “and I’m not looking at anyone else right now, either. There’s just you.” 

There’s just you. 

The sentence sounds like a confession. Like he’s being honest while you were just being horny and possessive. You feel your act drop, whatever front you were putting up, it drops, and you don’t know what to say at first. 

The truth? You aren’t thinking about anyone else either. You don’t want to. You want Jeongguk. There’s only Jeongguk right now. 

Had this been with any other person, you wouldn’t feel comfortable being honest with them. You wouldn’t trust them not to use that against you but you know Jeongguk and you trust Jeongguk more than anything. 

“I… I’m not looking at anyone either,” you manage to mumble out. Now you’re the one who is all red and shy. 

And watching Jeongguk’s expression change when you said that… priceless. 

He stares at you like you hung all of the stars in the sky, that you push the sun up in the sky every morning, like the dew droplets on the blades of grass, like it was just you. 

It’s perfect yet so much at the same time. You want to say more but you don’t know what else you could say so you meet his gaze, then dip down to his lips, and he nods so you lean in to kiss him again. 

He makes a noise of surprise, immediately licking fiercely into your mouth to meet the movements of your lips. Slowly, Jeongguk pulls away from the wall and begins moving down to lay against the bed, holding himself up with a forearm on the soft material and strengthening his hold on you so you wouldn’t slip off from him. 

You feel Jeongguk grin against your lips at your eagerness but he maintains the energy. Arching your back a little, mostly for show, you reach back and push one of Jeongguk’s hands further down to your ass. He’s been so careful and gentle with you so far and, as nice as it is, you want more. His eyebrows furrow against you, curling his palm over the tangible curve before giving your ass a tentative squeeze and pulling a muffled moan from you. 

So Jeongguk does it again. Does it with more vigor, digging his fingers into the flesh of your cheek and grinding his hips upwards. Gets you throbbing insufferably and so wet. 

“Jeongguk,” you gasp into his mouth, meeting the movement of his hips with your own. The bulge in his pants becomes really prominent as you break the kiss, moving down his strong jawline to his perfect neck. 

Whatever perfume he uses, the smell is strong now, filling your olfactory senses with sweet powdery softness. Your lips search for that spot you ache to mark, digging your teeth into the gentle flesh and soothing  the area over with your tongue. 

The noise he makes…

Jeongguk whimpered when you were sucking and biting on his skin. 

It took so much willpower for you to not rip his damn top off when that sound reached your ears. You were so wet and throbbing in your pants, desperate for some form of touch besides your soaked underwear against your clit. If you could, you’d cover his entire body with hickeys, paint his neck all sorts of beautiful colors if it were socially acceptable for someone to be walking around like that and not have everyone’s immediate thought be that he got jumped or something. 

But you practice restraint and suck on the hot skin, kissing, and doing your best to keep yourself under control even if your wetness was starting to become bothersome. Jeongguk’s hands on your ass don’t help with that either. 

The hold helps you feel the shape of his fingers which are pretty long and thick. You’ve seen them writing, typing, gripping onto the pole in the subway so the veins and tendons pop out and you’ve reached a conclusion that you need to feel them inside of you. Pumping deep and slow. Since the digits are longer than yours, they would reach that damned spot inside, turn you into a shaking, coming, mess. You crave that. 

Even before Wooshik, these dry spells weren’t uncommon. You know that it’s just your monthly horror revving up the hormones that’s making you want some dick like water in a desert but still. 

A girl has her needs. Especially when said girl is constantly hanging around a hot guy. 

Once you pull away from his neck after creating a total of three hickeys, you sit up. All of the kissing and petting and grinding has made you all sweaty so you quickly pull off your quarter-zip hoodie, leaving the plain t-shirt you have on underneath with no bra. 

Jeongguk’s eyes fall to the way your breasts lift and fall with the movement, jiggling into place as you throw the piece of clothing somewhere. The change in temperature has your nipples straining against the thin material and you can tell his attention has shifted. 

With a cocked brow, you smirk. “Want my shirt off?” You ask, slowly twisting the hem around a single finger. 

“Yeah.” 

His hands give your ass another appreciative squeeze. One that nearly has you dropping the control but you rebuild quickly. 

“Take this off then.” You place a hand down on the base of his stomach. Jeongguk’s shirt is thin so you can feel his stomach through the fabric. You need it off asap. 

Jeongguk’s lips part. You think he’s going to deny at first. Maybe he isn’t comfortable showing you his body yet. That’s okay; you don’t mind. Whatever he’s comfortable with, right? 

But in a split second, he grips the gray fabric and sits up slightly to peel it off of his body and gives you a view of what he has underneath. 

Which is just exquisite. 

Jeongguk treats his body like it’s a work of art. When he isn’t gaming or studying, he’s in the gym and he has one of the strictest meal plans you ever see. Allowing himself one cheat meal out of the week and then sticking to his rice, steamed veggie and lean meats for the rest of the days. And that dedication shows in the way his body looks. 

While still being thin and put together, his stomach is defined with steel-cut abs and his obliques are enviable along with sturdy shoulders, firm chest and deliciously bulky arms. 

You’ve never really cared about the body of whoever you were sleeping with. Muscles are nice and hot but they aren’t a necessity. Honestly, having a handsome/pretty face can get a guy farther than a six pack but now you might be changing your mind on that stance. Because Jeongguk has a pretty face and a six pack. 

Or is that a twelve pack? You didn’t really count. 

A single finger starts at Jeongguk’s sternum, tracing down his body to the waistband of his sweats, taking your time to appreciate every patch of skin and flesh. You inch backwards so you are sitting more on his thighs than his lap where his bulge is firmly straining against his pants. Looking all inviting. Your thighs clench together to relieve yourself from the lack of attention.

But before you can wrap your hands around him, Jeongguk’s fingers close around your wrist to stop you. 

“You said if I took my shirt off, you would too,” he reminds you. His tone is low, barely teetering into a domineering one. Brings a rush of arousal to your pussy and you immediately bite the inside of your cheek. 

Jeongguk ordering you around is… really hot. 

“Eager.” 

The plain t-shirt is rather unflattering on the outside so you do away with it quickly, feeling the mass of your breasts lift and bounce back down while adjusting to the temperature change. Your nipples are hard and goosebumps cover your upper body. 

But that’s mainly caused by the way Jeongguk’s eyes practically ravish you. 

You wonder if he’s more of an ass guy or a boob guy. Because his grip has stayed on the plump curve of your backside but his tongue swipes over his bottom lip while staring at your tits like he’s at the Louvre and he has two seconds to take a glance at the Mona Lisa. 

  There’s a sense of vulnerability to have him look at you like this. Like you’re something perfect when all everyone else, including yourself, does is point out your faults. 

It’s too much. You need to make a move, get his eyes off of you, so your hand goes back to the waistline of his pants where his boxer band flashes quickly. Calvin Klein, black in color to match the color of his sweatpants. 

“Can I?” You ask, looking down at the heavy print showing through the material and your mouth waters. 

Jeongguk nods immediately. “Please.” 

Carefully, you peel back the first layer of clothing. The tight elastic pressure around his waist is enough to slowly peel back Jeongguk’s boxers, exposing the beginning of his ilium but then he raises his hips some more until his sweatpants are pushed a little past the beginning of his quad muscles. You desperately want to see the sinew on his legs because you’ve been feeling them flex and move against you this entire time and they are just to your expectations. His skin is soft, a little tanned, thin hairs barely visible on his thighs from the hallowed light. 

“What do you want? My hand or my mouth?” 

You said a blowjob but whatever he wants, you will do. 

His eyes darken with lust. “Y-your hand, first,” Jeongguk stutters, shaking some hair off his sweaty forehead.  You try not to smile excitedly at the word first. 

“Okay.” 

After pressing one more kiss on his perfect nose, your palm cups his bulge. Against the material, you can see somewhat of a defined shape. It’s thick, impressive looking, and your wetness is soaking through your pants, effectively ruining the pair but that’s the least of your concerns. You fight the urge to grind into something, relieve some of the throbbing pressure from your core, clenching around nothing in hopes that it will fix. 

Jeongguk says your name carefully, checking to see if you’re still okay with continuing and your attention is back on him. You give him a wry smile in response and then work on slowly tugging his boxers off of his hips to free his cock. 

You gasp when his length slaps against his bare stomach, incapable of holding it in. 

 He’s big and thick; bigger and thicker than any guy you’ve ever been with. Jeongguk’s dick is pretty. Two veins trailing up the sides and pulsating with blood, the tip peeking with a small droplet of pearly white pre-cum. 

“Fuck,” you curse, reaching a hand forward to barely wrap around him. Your fingers manage to encompass the whole circumference but you can only accredit that to your long digits. Otherwise he would be too girthy. 

Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut when you pump his length once. His jawline strains sexily as little puffs of air escape his lips. He looks so good when he’s pleased. As if he was made to only look like that. The emotion sits perfectly on his pretty features. 

A bead of pearly white fluid seeps from the stop, collecting slightly over the flesh-toned head. You lick your lips. “I don’t think you’ll fit in my mouth.” 

“W-what?” He stammers. 

“You’re too big, baby,” you purr, panicking momentarily about the pet name. “Shit,” swearing under your breath when you feel him twitch. Then, you let a fat drop of spit fall from your mouth and onto the head to aid your hand gliding up and down. “My throat will definitely be sore tomorrow.” 

Not that you’re complaining. 

The boy beneath you flushes. “I–” his breathing quickening when your hand works over him expertly, barely a moan. “You–um–you don’t have to,” Jeongguk offers. 

You coo, reaching forward to boop Jeongguk’s cute little nose with your free hand, still slowly jerking his cock with the other, giving the fat length a nice squeeze at the base. “But I want to,” forcing a pout and watching his gaze turn heady with euphoria. “Don’t you want me to use my mouth? To suck you off nice and properly?” 

This is new for you. You are usually rather submissive in bed and you’ve always liked it that way. If anything, you sought after guys who were more dominant because it was an immediate turn-on for you but now that you’ve made Jeongguk all pliant and soft, you can’t stop. He just looks so perfect. His eyes clench shut, creases appearing at the sides when your hands squeeze his length teasingly on the upstroke, legs going more rigid. 

Jeongguk doesn’t respond at first so you lean down, holding yourself up with one hand splayed on the mattress, right next to his head, and increase the pace of your hand. You pay special attention to the tip and the spot right under where he’s sensitive, rubbing a thumb over the area to collect more precum on the way down his cock. Jeongguk sputters out a soft noise, gritting his teeth tightly. 

“You have to tell me what you want, Jeongguk,” you muse. The tips of your noses graze, your breasts meeting his hot skin. Jeongguk’s hands, which switched to curling into the fabric of your duvet, go to your thighs to squeeze them. At that point, you decide to only stimulate the head of his cock with the pad of your thumb, rubbing teasingly tight circles while Jeongguk leaks all over, rivulets of creamy white decorating his length.  “My hands? Or my mouth? What do you want me to do?”

Jeongguk goes crazy.  His back arches off the mattress along with a high whine emitting from his swollen lips. He looks so overwhelmed with red cheeks and his hands gripping onto your body like it’s a lifeline. 

“Y-your mouth! I want your mouth, please,” he whines once more, digging his nails into your thighs, surely leaving indents. You smile, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips before descending down his taut body. 

Jeongguk is a work of art after all and you need time to appreciate him. 

Your hands stop their tortuous movement, leaving Jeongguk’s cock to hold yourself up while inching down. You kiss down the right side of his neck. The skin is salty from sweat but you don’t mind. You kiss all the marks you left, the mole on his chest, the beginning of his abs (you pay special attention to this area), licking up a stripe to feel the ridges of his body before you end up on your knees in between his legs. 

While you were kissing him, Jeongguk kicked his sweatpants off his legs, allowing you to capture a full glimpse of his meaty thighs. His skin is flawless and soft looking and you bookmark the thought of leaving red lines atop his thighs while riding him like a fucking stallion for later. 

His length deliciously twitches again from the brief lack of touch. You eye it for a split second, mouth watering, before taking the head between your lips. He throws his head back in satisfaction. 

Jeongguk tastes good. A mix of skin, salt, but he isn’t bitter; soft, pliable skin meets the plush membrane in your mouth. You moan out while your tongue circles the head, awarding you with a fresh spurt of pre-cum. 

Giving head isn’t everyone’s favorite (totally understandable) but it’s definitely yours. You don’t know why, maybe you have an oral fixation that you don’t know about, but it always makes you wet and desperate for more. Especially when the guy you’re blowing has hot moans like Jeongguk does. 

“Fuck,” he drawls out, while your tongue moves over him. He wraps a hand around the back of your hair gently, barely pushing you down to take more of him into your mouth. 

Ideally, you’d punish Jeongguk for that. If you were continuing this dominatrix stint you have going on then he shouldn’t be pushing you and trying to choke you but you drop the whole act. 

Because he feels so good. 

Your wetness is trickling down the swell of your ass as more of your mouth stretches to accommodate his length. The back of his head is about to reach the back of your throat when you wrap a hand around to pump what you can’t reach. It’ll be impossible to take him all in one go. You need to warm up first. Fat rivulets of spit trail down to his base and collect there to ease your ministrations. 

“So good,” Jeongguk praises, tangling his fingers in your hair while the wet sucking noises filter through your apartment. “You’re s-so good at this.” 

Jeongguk’s low voice isn’t helping you. Another pathetically whiny noise is muffled by his big dick going back into your mouth, swallowing around the tip as you take a little more than before. 

Swirling your mouth, using the inside of your cheek, the side of your tongue and the puckered membrane of your lips in conjunction with your nimble hands, jacking his thick cock and feeling the skin get hotter, wetter, with every second that passes by. 

He’s probably big enough to make you squirt. Though, you are the type to squirt easily, but guys around his size tend to hit the g-spot head on, to turn you into a shaking, coming, moaning mess in their arms. The thought really gets you going, imagining yourself sinking down on him like a Queen perched on her throne and spilling all over his thighs with a loud noise. 

Would he like it? Would he want to see you do it again? 

Fuck, you need a little bit of friction here. The combination of sucking him off, Jeongguk’s breathy whiny noises, and the deranged thoughts in your brain make your pussy so needy, demanding attention. 

You think about reaching back and rubbing yourself, just for a second, but your brain is too transfixed on Jeongguk. 

“P-please don’t stop-p,” he begs, “Please–Ah, yes.” Sounding like he’s about to cry. 

Your wrist flicks up during your motions while you pay special attention to the head. Jeongguk twitches some more and judging by how hard he grips your hair, he must be close. 

So you make sure your tongue stimulates all of the areas that make Jeongguk quiver in your hold. Your back arches, suckling at the skin. 

“Can I,” he interrupts himself with a moan, hands shaking, “Can I cum in your mouth?” He asks politely. 

You pull off with a breathy sigh, moving your hand to respond. “Please.” You want to taste more of him, until he’s filling your throat up completely. 

Sinking back down, you take in as much of him as you can, deep-throating his cock to the best of your abilities. It’s wet, the noises are filthy, salacious, but you don’t really care that much. Jeongguk’s cock twitches again as he spurts into your mouth, awarding you with his release as he whines throughout. 

And like a good girl, you swallow every last drop, refusing to let even a tiny drop of it go to waste. 

Jeongguk pants. His fingers slip out of your ratty hair and his hand slap over his forehead while he collects himself. His thighs shake with the aftershocks of his orgasm, sweat collected at the enticing dip of his collarbones, making his skin look like it’s speckled with diamonds. While you sit up slowly and wipe the back of your mouth, tucking his slowly softening length back into his boxers with a soft pat. 

For a few seconds, he doesn’t say anything to you. All Jeongguk does is try to catch his breath, probably slow his heart rate a bit. 

In that short period of time, your brain speeds at 100 miles per second. Did Jeongguk like it? Did Jeongguk hate it? Will he let you do it again? Oh my god, do you want to do it again and again and again. Is he uncomfortable around you now? What next? 

Your thighs are folded under you, watching Jeongguk’s stomach tense and flex as he leans on his elbows to look at you. 

His lips are adorable pouty and the hickeys look really pretty on his skin. You want so much more from him but you’re too afraid to vocalize it. You don’t want to stop. You don’t want to wake up and force this memory out of your brain. Jeongguk is so pretty and perfect and so easy to want. 

“C’mere,” he says softly, exhaling quickly with a stupid grin. Unsure if he meant his lap or right next to him, you shuffle closer until Jeongguk pats the space next to his body and you move accordingly. Hands an knees on the bed like a slinking cat. 

The air, which was once zinging with tension, has simmered down a little. Jeongguk’s arm stretches out for you to lean your head on his bicep. Up close, his eyes sparkle more than the stars in the night sky as Jeongguk pushes all of the loose strands of hair out of your sweaty face. 

“You were really good,” he repeats. “Thank you for that.” 

It feels weird to be thanked for sucking dick so you shake your head. “No need to thank me.” And because it doesn’t hurt to be truthful, you open your mouth once more. “I really wanted to.” 

Jeongguk’s expression warms; his smile gets wider and his cheeks get rounder. His thumb traces the curve of your jaw, dancing over your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory again.

“So can I return the favor?” 

Your heart leaps to your throat. You were sure Jeongguk was under the impression that this was a simple blowie, the end. Nothing else and nothing more. Even though you wanted more, you were ready to leave this romp at that but he proves you wrong once again. 

You raise an eyebrow. “You want to?” 

Most guys don’t. Most guys give up the second they cum without even offering.

But Jeongguk fucking smirks when he noticed your shocked expression. “I really want to,” he copies you. 

Fuck, you think. You put on a nice pair of underwear thinking that this would happen and then the entire tutoring session you were gaslighting yourself into thinking that nothing would ever happen and now here you are. 

There’s no doubt in your mind that you want this. Your panties are soaked and your core is aching to be touched. You need it so bad that you might never forgive yourself for turning this down.  

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” Jeongguk repeats. 

“Touch me. Please Jeongguk,” you plead with him, placing a soft hand on his warm chest. The breath is just about to escape you when he leans in to kiss you with his supple lips. 

You almost cringe. You must taste like him and you’re sure that there’s still some moisture collected in the corner of your mouth but Jeongguk doesn’t care. He licks hotly into your mouth, taking control during the kiss which surprises you completely. 

Gone is the shy whimpering boy who begged you not to stop. Jeongguk’s fingers squeeze your hips then pull one of your legs over his thighs so that you get even closer to him and your center is more exposed. That same hand travels upwards to your tits and cups the mass, and it’s your turn to shake in his hold. 

He’s starting off perfectly, like he knows what moves drive you crazy just by looking at you. 

You sigh softly when your lips break and he begins kissing down your neck. Unlike you, Jeongguk doesn’t leave any marks. Instead, he’s strategic about creating a clean line from your mouth, smooching along your jaw, then the side of your neck, to the middle of your collarbones before meeting your boobs. Jeongguk hauls you up the bed a little so he’s facing your chest instead, bringing your body closer with a splayed hand on your back. 

“Jeongguk,” you try, unsure as to why you’re calling him out. Jeongguk pays you no attention, transfixed by your naked breasts. He expels something inaudible under his breath and then takes one of your nipples into his mouth while tweaking the other, causing your body to go rigid. 

His lips wrap around the bud, sucking and circling his tongue over it while his other hand tweaks and pulls at the other. Like his tongue, his finger moves in time to turn you into a pile of mush. You grind onto nothing, wishing it was his thigh instead because you need friction from how wet and needy you’ve become in the span of like 20 minutes. 

Moaning out at the feeling of him slowly stimulating you, Jeongguk switches to the other one until your nipples are left shiny, wet, and puffy from his lips and tongue. 

He picks up fast, it seems. While kissing down your stomach, he asks you, “What do you want me to do?” Just like you did. 

“Anything,” you respond. You don’t care what he does, you just want him to do something. 

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Gotta give me a real answer,” he pulls up a little closer to your face, cupping your swollen bottom lip thanks to all of his work. “Tell me.”

“I,” you start. In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind anything from him. But you feel the length of his fingers, thick and perfect, and you remember your pressing desire of having them inside of you. “I want your fingers,” deciding on that. 

He grins softly at how cute you become when you’re overwhelmed. Jeongguk doesn’t wait around any longer, fingers going to the waistline of your yoga pants and tugging them down slowly. They’re tight, sticking to you like a second skin, so they snag along the meat of your thighs. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to mind as the fabric bunches up into a little ring and you kick it off to a random spot on your floor. 

Cold air meets your soaked underwear, making you cringe at the feeling, totally unaware of the way Jeongguk gapes at the flimsy little thing hugging your hips. He gently traces the band over your pelvis, almost like he’s hesitation. 

You open your mouth, ready to check in to see if Jeongguk still wants to do this for you or not, but before you can, his fingers dip into your panties to feel just how wet you are from him. 

His expression morphs beautifully. “You’re…” he’s speechless at first. Jeongguk’s finger trails up and down your center, barely grazing your sensitive clit. 

A whimper escapes you. His touch is feather light and barely enough yet so much all at once. 

“Fuck,” he groans, hiding his face into crook of your neck, soaking up all of your arousal while his ears and neck get bright red. You’d be embarrassed by the rushing gush coating you even more if Jeongguk’s thumb hadn’t stopped at your clit to draw tight, short, slow circles. 

Such a gentle pace, way less intense than the bullet vibrator you’ve been using, and the pressure builds gradually. One of your hands wind in his hair and the other grips his bicep, openly feeling him up. 

“Fucking soaked,” Jeongguk grits, moving his thumb a little faster. 

Your eyes shut. “Oh J–” interrupted by a shaky noise spilling from your mouth. Jeongguk takes that as a good sign, deciding to torture you even further by moving his lips back to your stiffened nipples and using his tongue to suck and lick at them as if you aren’t already sensitive. 

“You’re pretty too, noona,” Jeongguk says, looking at you this time. Slowly, your eyes peel open to find his big brown irises glimmering at you. “I think you’re beautiful. Always have.” 

You blush immediately. You don’t know why this feels so intensely intimate, like a pan that’s gotten too hot. Is it Jeongguk’s tone, the fact that he’s so close, the way he looks at you to make sure you know and understand him? What is it that has you so stupefied by such a simple comment? 

Boys have called you pretty before, called you much worse too, but you should be used to it. Over the years you’ve started to develop a thick skin but this one gets to you. 

That flutter of butterflies comes back, dancing from the tip of your toes all the way to your head. Jeongguk has seen you grow, from a kid to a pre-teen and now an adult. 

And he still finds you beautiful. Even after every embarrassing phase. 

You begin to smile, cupping his cheeks and leaning down to press a short kiss to his lips, then the corner of his lips, his cheek and his nose, because he deserves it and he’s cute. 

“Thanks,” you mean it, even if the sweet moment cut all of the flourishing beginnings of an orgasm from you and Jeongguk’s fingers halted, out of your underwear and holding your hip instead. 

Jeongguk mirrors your expression. Then he looks down at where his hand is and back up at you, nervously tonguing his cheek. “Can I move now?” 

You nod your head yes quickly after he asks. 

“And…” Jeongguk still looks awkward. You go back to cupping his soft cheeks. “Tell me if I’m doing okay?”

You want to melt in his grip. “Of course, Guk.” Thumb swiping over his cheekbone affectionately. 

Jeongguk takes that as the greenlight and slips his fingers back into your underwear. His gaze is on you, studying your features when his thumb goes back to your clit while his middle finger teases around your opening. You clench, desperate for something to slip inside of you, lifting your hips up in hope that Jeongguk would take the hint and put his fingers inside but he continues collecting your arousal to get his digits wet enough. 

“Jeongguk,” you call tightly, digging your nails into the meat of his shoulders. He hums in response. “I need more.” 

His thumb decides to go faster at your demand but not fast enough and his middle finger still traces your opening instead of slipping inside. 

“More?” He repeats, lilting his voice teasingly. 

Shithead. 

“Yes, more.”  You want to whine, kick your legs even. 

He can feel how wet you’ve gotten, does he not know how much you want this? 

“You want my fingers?” 

“Yes,” you grumble but it sweetens at the end because his thumb starts moving faster over your clit and you feel the waves of pleasure swirling in your stomach, turning into a half-moan. 

Jeongguk angles his hand a little differently and, gently, pushes his middle finger inside you. He groans at the feeling of you. “So tight,” breathing out against your skin. 

You react immediately, throwing your head back. There’s a slight pinch but it's not even the slightest bit painful. The intrusion is welcomed; although small, you need it. Jeongguk’s finger is nice and long and he pistons it out of you with so much care while hitting just the spot. 

“Fuck, right there,” you moan out, turning your face into the soft material of your sheets, eyes rolling back.

Jeongguk slips another finger in and he stops teasing your throbbing bundle of nerves to focus fully on moving his digits, curving them upwards to your walls as you release a symphony of noises. Finding that soft spongy part inside of you and massaging it. 

“F-faster please, please, go faster,” begging him out of the fear that he’ll tease you just like he was doing before. 

But Jeongguk plays fair and fingers you even faster, upping the ante even more by removing his free hand and pressing down on your lower stomach, right before your pelvis. 

And you lose it. 

The pressure from his hand on top, plus the way his fingers are moving, just becomes too much. The  gradual pressure starts accelerating and accelerating until it drops like a rollercoaster and you feel a burst of tingling pleasure rush through your veins and all over your body. 

“I’m cumming!” Crying out, tears pooling inside your eyes streaming down your cheeks as your legs shake with the crashing waves of your orgasm. 

Different than when you do it. As good as your vibrator is, something about it has yet to make you orgasm like this. Heavy, powerful, almost numbing. Waves crash inside you, again and again, cresting at the peak and slowly simmering out into a soft current and then nothing at all. 

Your breath comes out in heavy pants, limbs feeling like jelly, slowly opening your eyes to find Jeongguk staring back at you in bewilderment. His lips are parted but his cheeks aren’t red with embarrassment. If anything, he looks like the complete opposite of that. 

Like he could watch you do that again and again. Something you would gladly agree with. 

Jeongguk takes his fingers out from your underwear, glistening with your arousal, and before you can offer him a napkin, he slips his digits into his mouth and cleans them off. You really begin to question if this man is a virgin or secretly a sex god waiting to be discovered. He’s way better than you were when you were inexperienced. Does he watch a lot of porn?

Or do Taehyung and Jimin just talk about sex around him too much? Must be that. 

“Mmh,” his fingers come out with a soft pop noise, “You taste amazing.” Jeongguk’s clean hand brushes some hair out of your face as he smiles. You lean into his touch like a purring kitten, curling into his chest because your entire body feels weak. 

“You okay?” Jeongguk asks, closing his arms around you. 

Nodding into his chest, “Yeah. Felt really good.” You want to say more but there’s no energy for you to do so. 

“Did it? You looked really hot when,” trailing off, you know what he means, and you press a kiss to his chest. “Kinda want to see it again.” 

That takes your attention. 

Removing the fact that you haven’t been touched in a bit, two orgasms from Jeongguk might put your legs out of commission and that was just with his fingers. You can’t imagine what it would be like with more of him, especially as he learns more about how to pleasure you and gets better. Your poor vibrator might be out of a job. 

“I would love to, but you definitely wore me out.” Pulling your face away, you look up at his perfectly crafted face. “Can we try that another time?” 

Another time, you get giddy even before he agrees. After getting addicted to Jeongguk’s touch, you don’t want to entertain the idea of this being a one time thing. 

“Of course.” And neither does he. 

Jeongguk kisses the top of your head gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back. You tangle your legs with his, inhaling his scent and doing your best not to fall asleep. 

It feels sticky and wet between your legs. You should change and you should get ready for bed. Jeongguk probably wants to go back to his house, right? He probably doesn’t want to stick around your place after what just happened. 

But you think about it and that’s the farthest thing you want. 

Being in his arms, you feel safe and protected, like you drifted off to another dimension where nothing bad has ever happened and you were still the girl you were when you left Busan. Happy and lively. 

You don’t want him to leave you. You don’t want this to be another shitty hookup or one-time thing that makes both of you blush and walk-away. You just want Jeongguk to be in your life. 

So you hold on tight, avoiding his eyes when you ask: “Do you want to stay here with me tonight?”

Please, please, you beg internally. You’ll make breakfast, there’s a pack of toothbrushes under your sink, anything. Just stay. 

And thankfully, Jeongguk responds without wasting another second of your time, putting you at ease once again.  

“Please.”

a/n: okay yes, that was a lot but more smut will come and more angst will follow!

taglist:

@iwuzhere

[octuscle]

Hey, support! I could really use your help. I’m 25 and got a Chronivac on my phone to make myself bigger and more muscular so coworkers would take me more seriously, on top of going to the gym as well. But I lost my phone a few days back at the gym, and after this handsome older neighbor returned it to me, I’ve started changing a lot more. Now I’ve got a blond crew cut even though my hair’s always been brown and pretty shaggy, I sweat like a pig, and I’ve got 5 months worth of beard growth and a forest of blond fur on my body. Speaking of, that muscle growth has almost doubled in the last two days, I look like a bodybuilder now and I smell like an old gym locker. I don’t remember putting any of this in initially, but that older guy from the gym’s been watching me pretty closely. Is there any way to reverse this?

Phew! A transformation was started from your cell phone. Of course, I can't tell whether it was you or someone else. The fact is: you are an amateur bodybuilder with a split relationship to the shower and especially to deodorant and soap. But somehow no one has ever complained about it. Possibly because nobody dares to…

Your neighbor said that you cut a good figure at the photo shoot. You now have your own product line! What a great thing! But your neighbor, your manager, also invested a lot of time and money in you. Lifting iron and marketing yourself on social media are now your main occupations. You're a pro at that. You've been in business for five years as a fitness influencer, personal trainer and fitness model. You're perfect as an advertising figure for your neighbor's company. You're the body, he's the brain. Well, and to be honest: You're the dick, he's the hole. He created you. Exactly according to his needs.

So, what was the problem again? Your body? Your hairstyle? That you're always horny? Or that you're a bit dumb? Dude, no problem, your manager will take care of you!