#i read this and immediately choked on my water

[duskspring]

EVERYTHING THAT I IMMEDIATELY REMEMBER AFTER TODAY'S RITUAL

We all looked fantastic according to Papa, who wanted to hug us all

He called the encore songs the 'sellout' songs and said they're shit, but then changed his mind to say actually there was 1 good one, his daddy used to sing it

Haze and Aurora came off their platforms to dance with Dew

I might be mistaken but at some point it seemed like Cirrus and Aurora were waiving at each other around Mountain

During Year Zero's choir/chant bit the ghouls all stood stationary and Papa tried to get them to move. He gestures at Rain, who just nodded his head to tell Papa to go around him

I know I was in the seats with a million people around me but I'm gonna keep telling myself Papa looked at me specifically when he sang "the darkness at the heart of my love for you"

He got sentimental thanking the Dutch for always being so supportive at their shows, so he's heard. He started naming venues but said he 'forgot what he read' about where they first played. He also called The Netherlands 'Nederland' with pretty good pronunciation and ended the little speech by saying 'dankjewel' (thank you).

During Kiss The Go Goat Phantom and Rain were standing together and looking at Phantom's gestures, that water ghoul and him are gonna fuck

After Kiss The Go Goat Mountain kept on drumming after Papa motioned for him to stop. When he eventually did, Papa turned around and acted very proud

Dew did choke Rain during Year Zero again

Dew was walking a lot

Edit to add: I think Papa said something about how hot it was and said there weren't a lot of moistening things in the world. This ended up being an intro to TFIAFL but not before he said "wtf are we talking about?"

Also Phantom still made one half of the arena cheer, before the other. But this time he also motioned for us to be quiet in between. When there were inevitably still people screaming he pinched his nose and looked so disappointed

[stiltonbasket]

I knew there is something familiar about the healing. You are inspired by the best romance novel ever written, no wonder it scene in your fic is so amazing.

It is so nice, even though Wangxian and MDZS is nowhere near the galaxy level of Twilight Saga and Edward/Bella ethereal story when it comes to loves, devotion, sacrifice and well-written book with the best characters' development.

I wish MXTX will learn one or two things from Twilight Saga because her writing desperately needs some improvement. I read the second book of Heaven Official Blessing and cringed so bad at it I can't even finish it.

anon eye—

[magicaloneandmystery]

crush

pairing: tfatws!Bucky x fem!reader

summary: Bucky was just trying to live as normally as he could given his history. he never thought a teenage-like crush would be part of that normalcy.

tags: idiots in love, sorta friends to lovers, fluff, slightly ooc Bucky? this is not proofread

masterlist

he was in deep shit, he concluded. that, or he was going insane. out of his mind. schizophrenic, even.

Bucky was on his bike, reflecting back on his evening with you. specifically, the way his heart had raced when the two of you were lounging with you just a little closer than friends were supposed to. or maybe, he was reading too much into it? had you meant to sit that close?

I mean, it wasn't even that close, actually... he thought.

that wasn't the concerning part, though. the concerning part was that he wanted you to sit closer.

in fact, much closer.

the characters in the movie they had been watching, in a particular scene one of them was sitting on the lap of the other, and he remembered thinking, "wish that was y/n on me."

he had immediately choked on air at realising the insanity of that thought.

so, Bucky's only two conclusions were:

a) he was undergoing a psychotic episode.

b) he was developing a crush on you.

option b was, frankly, just as insane as option a.

because Bucky was over a century old, for fuck's sake. how ludicrous would it be if he starts developin crushes like he was in high school?

and, lastly, he cannot ruin the friendship he has with you. nope. that was not allowed.

you were the light in his dark life, the thread that holds him to normalcy of adjusting to 21st century life, the sun to his gloomy sky-

yeah, he was in deep shit.

so, naturally, he was left with no other option than to knock on Sam"s door to ask for some advice. he wasn't about to fuck this up and he had no idea how these things worked anymore. the last time he went out with a woman was 80 years ago.

that was another horrible, horrible idea, Bucky realised, when Sam started wheezing and laughing and sputtering out his water at the words, "I think I have a crush on y/n."

"Bucky Barnes... developing a crush?" Sam had raised his eyebrows, before he descended into his laughing fit.

"are you done?" Bucky sighed after a while. "I came here for real advice, you know."

"sorry, sorry," Sam wiped some tears from his eyes. "what do you want my advice on? I think I can contact my nephew for some advice on crushes with girls..."

"if you're gonna be an ass about this I'm just gonna leave," Bucky grumbled.

"okay okay," Sam raised his hands. "I'll behave. for now."

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and looked back at Sam. "how do I... tell her? uh. should I tell her?"

"you think she might like you back?"

Bucky told him about last night, the way you curled on the couch next to him, your fingers almost touching his, both of your hands splayed between you two. he told Sam about the shy smile you held around him whenever he was flirting with you - as a friend, of course - or the way she had almost cancelled a date because Bucky said he was feeling bored and wanted to know if she was free.

"she what?" Sam asked at the last one.

"yeah, I called her up one day when I had nothing to do and thought we could hang out. she was ready to blow off this guy she was seeing to hang out with me until I told her that I would find something to do, she needs to go out." Bucky must say, the warmth in his chest felt quite pleasant when he said those words out.

"and?" Sam pressed. "is she seeing anyone, then?" presently?"

"not that I'm aware of."

"we have good intel to work on," Sam nodded. "I have a plan."

✿✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠

Bucky was acting... weird.

good weird.

incredible weird.

weird in a way that made your heart flutter and the butterflies in your stomach flap around wildly.

he has been flirting a lot with you recently. small remarks about your beauty, hair, voice coupled with that charming smile? yeah, you didn't stand a chance.

you didn't understand how to interpret his behaviour. was he just opening up to you more, letting his charming side out? or was he flirting to...

you didn't let yourself complete the sentence. you couldn't let yourself hope that your feelings were reciprocated. that sort of hope could ruin your friendship with him.

all of those thoughts went out the window when Bucky put his arm on the couch behind you, his fingers almost - but not really - touching your shoulders. you could feel the heat of his body, smell his cologne even better. it was becoming hard to focus on the weekly movie you had picked out, a classic to help Bucky catch up to the world slowly.

after a while, your breathing evened out and you could move, so you opted to pretend and move just an inch closer. test out the waters, and all that.

it was a really slow night, but by the time the climax was nearing, you were pressed into his side, his hands resting on your shoulders and your thighs pressed to each other.

something shifted that night.

the two of you became bolder with your physical affection.

longer hugs, more cuddles on the couch, casual hand holding while walking through crowds or crossing streets.

that went on for about two weeks before your friends had encouraged you to do something more, take a risk. they swore they were 100% sure he liked you back. said it would be a 'calculated risk' bound to end in success. so you obliged them.

because maybe, just maybe, you believed Bucky really did like you back, too.

"would you want to go out tonight?" you asked him. "I was thinking how we've been hanging out too much at the apartment lately. let's go out! have some fun. what do you say?"

"yeah, sure. where do you want to go, doll?" Bucky leaned back, the phone pressed to his ears while he shot a confused look at Sam, who raised his eyebrows in return.

"have you been to the cafe near my place, the one with the best cheesecake ever?"

✿✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠✿⁠

so here you were.

on Bucky's motorcycle, your arms wrapped around his waist, while he took you to all the cafes that you swore he needed to try.

you were wearing a simple, long dress that had Bucky staring at your frame for a while longer than usual, while he was wearing a dark leather jacket and faded jeans, looking handsome as ever.

after a night of cafe hopping and good food, the two of you were returning home.

"I had a good time," you hummed when he stopped his bike in front of your apartment.

"me too," he replied, kicking out the stand and parking his bike while he walked you to your door.

"you know," you said, nerves overtaking you, your hands wringing together. "I had a much better time with you than with any of my dates in the last six months."

"yeah?" Bucky breathed out, stepping closer to you. he took a deep inhale before saying, "maybe you shouldn't go on any other dates."

your mind went in an overdrive at his words. did he just-?

"maybe we should have more of these nights," he continued, leaning his face closer to yours to catch your eye. "I know I would love that."

you stared in his eyes, their waves shining brightly in the moonlight. "I- I would love that too." you said.

"yeah?" he cupped your cheek with one hand, his other one resting on your waist. "can I kiss you, doll?"

"please."

and that's how you shared your first kiss with Bucky Barnes. your hands on his shoulders, his holding your face gently. it started out as a hesitant brush of the lips, until you pressed closer, wanting more. it was slow, a lazy tango of your lips as you two explored each other with racing hearts.

you separated for a quick breath before diving back in, another kiss that felt more passionate, holding each other closer, his hands now around your back, pulling you closer to him, yours around his neck, playing with his soft hair. that one left you breathless in a whole different way than just lack of oxygen.

after a quick and final peck, he stepped back a little. your head was swimming with thoughts of Bucky and all you could do was bring your hands back to his shoulders, keeping him close.

an awkward tension descended upon the pair, neither knowing what to say.

"so are we... dating?" you immediately panicked, wondering if this was the right question to ask right after you kissed a guy.

but it isn't any guy. it's Bucky, your heart whispered.

"I guess so," he chuckled. "would you like... that?"

"I would love that." a grin spread across the two of you.

he nodded. "I should go," he said, though he tightened his hold on you for a second. "a good night kiss?"

"yes please," you didn't wait, kissing him once more.

"have a good night, doll," he spoke afterwards, lips just inches apart.

"you too, Bucky," you said, staring at his lips then eyes.

"I'll call you tomorrow?" he asked, not knowing what dating today looked like. he'll have to ask Sam about that.

"okay," you said.

"bye," he said.

"you know you actually have to move away from me and to your bike to leave?" you teased.

"what if I don't want to leave?" he retorted with a roll of his eyes.

you laughed, slapping his shoulder lightly. "go, Bucky. we'll talk tomorrow?"

"yes." he said, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheeks one last time before he walked towards his bike.

you entered your apartment, waving to him as he sat on his bike, looking at you. he waved back with a grin.

after he rode away, you closed and locked the door, leaning against it as you touched your lips and cheeks, all the places his lips had touched you. your heart was racing wildly, the butterflies in your stomach refusing to slow down, the memories of the night replaying in your head. Bucky Barnes might be the death of you, you thought.

you were in deep shit, you concluded.

this was longer than I usually write but thank you so much for reading! likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

[hoonstqr]

force me and choke me till i pass out - p.sh

warnings: smut! mdni! choking kink, slight degradation, backshots, spanking, unprotected sex, if i missed smth, lmk! note: the way i immediately ss these pics because wtf?!?!? hybe never close the gyms. need him to manhandle me like a ragdoll, free use anytime!! also pls ignore any mistakes, not proofread. don't like it? don't read it.

“What did you just say?” Sunghoon asks as he stops thrusting into you to process what he just heard.

“I’m asking you to choke me.” You repeat your words, your voice a little shakier than you intended. Your heart races as you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a mix of arousal and embarrassment.

Sunghoon stares at you momentarily, his eyes darkening with lust as he tries to understand your request. He’s never done anything like this before, but your gaze tells him it’s something you need. “You’re sure about this? I don’t want to hurt you baby.”

You nod, trying to keep your voice steady. “I trust you, hoonie. Please.” The words come out in a breathy plea, and Sunghoon couldn’t refuse you. He leans in closer, his grip on your neck gentle at first, a question in his eyes. You nod again, urging him to go further.

His hand tightens around your throat, the pressure not painful but thrilling. You gasp, feeling your body respond instantly to the new sensation. Your pussy clenches around his cock, and he groans at the sudden change in tightness. The power dynamics shift and you can see the excitement in his eyes as he realizes you’re not just okay with this—you’re craving it.

Sunghoon starts to move again, his strokes a little slower and more deliberate as he chokes you. You were seeing stars cause of the delicious tension between your legs and the warm hand squeezing your neck. You can feel the blood pulsing in your ears, heightening every sensation, and making the pleasure more intense. The headboard slams against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts, echoing through the room.

He leans in closer to your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. “You like that, don’t you? Tell me how much you like it, slut. Such a nasty girl. Made me wait so long for this.” His voice sends shivers down your spine.

You whimper, your eyes rolling back as you struggle to form words. “Y-yes, I like it, N-nghh” you manage to get out, the pressure on your throat making your voice squeak.

Sunghoon smirks, his grip tightening just a fraction, and he resumes his punishing rhythm, his hips snapping into you. Your ass cheeks burn from the friction against the bed, but it’s a sweet burn that mingles with the pleasure coursing through you. Your juices smearing on the sheets, and each smack of his hips against your ass fills the room with a lewd, wet sound that only serves to turn you on more.

Your eyes water, but it’s not from pain—it’s the overwhelming rush of pleasure that’s building up in your core. Your hands desperately claw at the bed, trying to find something to hold onto, your legs trembling as you try to keep yourself in position.

“H–hoonie, gonna c-cum,” you stutter out, your vision blurring around the edges.

Sunghoon’s grip tightens just enough to make your breath hitch, and his strokes grow more erratic. “Yeah? Cum for me, baby. Let me feel it around my cock. I want to see you lose it.” His voice is gruff, thick with his own need as he watches you teeter on the edge.

The pressure builds and builds until it’s all you can focus on—his hand around your throat, his cock stretching your ass, the sound of skin slapping together. Then it hits you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing in the throes of a powerful orgasm. You can’t hold back the choked scream that rips from your mouth as your orgasm spasms around his shaft.

Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he feels your walls clench around him, milking him closer to his release. He can’t believe how hot you look, your cheeks flushed, your eyes watering, and your worn-out state. He buries himself deep inside you, the head of his cock reaching for your cervix. You feel the pulse of his climax, ropes of cum filling you up as he empties himself into you.

His grip on your throat relaxes as he comes down from his high, his breathing ragged and heavy. You both lay there, panting, your bodies sticky with sweat and the aftermath of your intense coupling. Sunghoon’s eyes are glazed over, a look of pure satisfaction etched on his face as he looks down at you. You feel his cock soften inside you, but it’s not the end.

[thebluediner]

INTERVIEW HOTNESS/ HOTMESS

host! reader x guest! billie

explanation: it's like a video compilation of all the moments from the interview with reader but in words for y'all

"welcome to the hot ones show where we have an even hotter guest, Billie Eilish" you gesture your hands towards billie for the camera to follow.

"you think i'm hot ?" her brows arch in curiosity with a slight grin on her face.

"I think you're pipping hot" you confirm with slight aggression.

"so you wanna kiss " billie asks her shoulders shrugging with a big flirtatious smile.

"fuck yeah" you say leaning in-

#wing 1

you pick the cards with questions on them flipping through them for the right question to ask while eyeing billie.

"should I be scared ?" she asks with suspicion looking around at the cast behind the camera and back to you.

"not unless you have something so hide" you answer her looking at her hard like some detective from a kids show.

"bitch I'm a celebrity I try hiding everything" she bursts out laughing along with you for a couple of seconds before you both calm down.

"alright what something you've hidden from security when you go to events or boarding a plane" you ask her before setting the card down.

"uhm a vibrator, well vibrators cause there was a lot of them " she elaborates while trying her not to laugh.

"should've eaten that wing billie" you crack up in disbelief looking at the cast because they were also giggle behind the camera.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 2

"your question is a guest who smelt the foulest" billie who immediately takes out her "your turn " perfume and bangs it on the table.

you slightly flinch at the noise before looking closely at what it is. when you finally realise your eyes get bigger before clapping your hands.

"now that's some promo right there" you point at the product while billie waves it in the air.

"now tell us who it is so I can send it to them" she deapans before looking right at you with some pressure to answer.

"oh hell no I'm eating this wing and I'm keeping that for myself thank you very much" you say grabbing the perfume and eating the wing.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 3

"just eat the wing man i won't even bother asking the question" you surrender pushing the wing closer to her.

"no wait lemme see" she takes the card from you to read for herself. her eyes scan the paper reading what's written in the fine print before her jaw drops.

"you know what you were right" she places the card down and bites into the wing.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 4

"a celebrity you've hooked up while working with them on a project" the set members let's out little gasps.

"none but you could be the first" one of the set members hollers at your flirting making billie blush and hide it with her question card.

"oh my gosh girl get out" she says pointing to the door.

you who actually stands up and leaves the the set leaving billie in fits of laughter that you actually stood up and left.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 5

"bro now this wing is so hot it makes me wanna tell you all the people I've hooked up with" billie admits in the midst of drinking ice cold water to put out the spice on her tongue.

"oh don't expose us now" you joke catching billie off guard who then chokes on her water.

"oh my gosh billie don't die " you stand up from your seat to help her out while laughing a bit.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 6

"fuck my lips are so hot" you blubber picking up blocks of ice and putting them in your mouth.

"you do have hot lips " billie chimes in with a flirtatious smile.

since there is ice in your mouth you point at her mumbling something about how dare she flirts with you while you're suffering which only makes her laugh more.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 7

"you think if we kiss it'd burn less" billie asks panting with her tongue hanging out.

"that's not you speaking it's the spice right" you narrow your eyes in suspicion.

"I don't know wanna find out" billie leans forward.

"Billie Eilish Baird O'Connell!" you scream backing up because of being flustered.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 8

" I need to dip my lips in something to ease down the pain of the spice" billie says looking around the table for literally anything even a napkin at this point.

"I know something " your brow arches in mischief.

"oh yeah wh- bro get out! " billie finally catches up to your dirty joke.

"don't act like you wouldn't say that too" you try defending yourself while you double back laughing.

"actually yeah I would " billie admits shaking her head.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Can you please do a hc of the guys helping you out after you come home tipsy(or drunk) from a girls night?

𝙿𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜

The lads men taking care of you after a girls night out. You came home drunk and you woke up with the worst hangover known to man. A/N: for this we’re going full messy drunk okay? great. cw: mentions of vomit/puke

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

[Coming home]

he picked you up after you drunk dialed him

drove on side roads so he could go slower so you wouldn’t get motion sickness

keeps your hair out of your face while you puke

listens to you ramble on and on about handsome he is and reminds you that you’re already dating him when you ask if he’s single

dodges you every time you try to kiss him in your drunken state ; does not care how fussy you get

let’s you hang on him like a koala while he removes your makeup and runs you a bath

tucks you into bed and holds you while you sleep

[The hangover]

has been checking on you periodically while you were passed out asleep the second you start to stir he grabs water and pain meds for your headache

in full doctor mode ; not gentle at all making you down two pills and a glass of water

left a trash can by the bed for you incase you vomitted overnight

spoons feeds you ginger chicken soup so you’re not digesting pain meds on an empty stomach ; doesn't leave until the whole bowl is gone

makes you lay on your side when you fall back asleep ; he doesn’t want you to choke one your own vomit

rubs your back while giving you a small lecture about drinking too much

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

[Coming home]

teases you about how you can’t hold your liquor

helps you take off your heels/shoes when you come stumbling through the door

picks you up carries you through the house while rubbing your back

is blushing furiously from your shameless flirting in your drunken state

sits you on the counter and holds your chin while he wipes your makeup off

finds it funny when you get fussy while he’s trying to take care of you “you’re so adorable”

strips you out of your current outfit and puts you in one of his shirts “You look better in my clothes anyway”

cradles you in his arms and has a trash can within reach if you have to puke

[The hangover]

has you laying on him while he reads a book when you wake up “good morning cutie does your head hurt?”

teases you again before kissing your forehead offering to get you food

“Come on you need a shower” carries you to the bathroom and showers with you ; dresses you in another one of his shirt again “you should just wear my clothes”

washes your face for you “I can do it Raf!” “I know you can, but let me take care of you”

wraps you up in the blanket like a burrito and carries you into his studio so he can keep an eye on you while he paints

gives you pain meds for your headache and orders or makes you whatever you want to eat

tells you all about your shameless flirting while you were drunk ; over exaggerates how he had to fight you off because you wanted him so bad

ends up laying on the couch with you instead of working on any of his projects

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

[Coming home]

woke up from his sleep when he heard you fumbling with the front door lock

fell to the floor with you on top of him when you stumbled through the door

concerned with how much you drank “Did you overdue it?” ; your giggles gave it away

is half sleep while he sits you on the counter and wipes your makeup off ; is unbelievably gentle while he does this

sits on the floor of the bathroom with you while you throw up ; stays like this with you until you start dozing off

rubs your back and wipes your mouth for you

grips you by the chin and lets you lean against him while he brushes your teeth

strips you down to your underwear and when you get too fussy for him he just lets you lay down like that

[The hangover]

is sitting up in bed when you wake up and immediately drags you into the shower ; towel dries you ; dresses you in his clothes and puts you back in bed

offers to cook you something ; orders takeout after the look you gave him

gives you pain meds after you get something in your stomach

lazy day with Xav naps, naps, and more naps

lazes around in bed all day with you

gets up to get you anything you ask for

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

[Coming home]

it’s night time so you know he’s in his element when you call him to come get you ; your night is ending and his day is just starting

picked you up from your girls night out ; promised to send Luke and Kieran for your car when you started throwing a fit about it

carries you bridal style through the house

already had a bath ready for you ; strips you out of your clothes and puts you in the tub

wraps you in a warm towel ; sits you on the counter ; puts your bonnet on you(or ties your hair back) ; wipes your makeup off and washes your face

doesn’t care how fussy you get when he’s trying to brush your teeth for you ; holds you in place with his evol “ahm roking(im choking)!” “You’re not choking sweetie spit”

lets you sleep in his lap and doesn’t care if you drool on him

[The hangover]

canceled everything to take care of you

him and the twins are at your beckoned call especially Sylus of course

gives you scalp massages

brings you a menu of foods that are good for hangovers ; watches you eat ; encourages one more bite before giving you some pain killers

teases you about your bratty fits you threw while you were drunk “it’s not that funny” “You’re adorable when you try to act angry” “im not acting!” “Whatever you say Princess”

if you have any body aches he’s giving you a massage

sits in bed with you letting you take naps on him ; once again he doesn’t mind you drooling on him

[cupcakegirl3]

dark!wandanat x reader

i know places series - chapter 5

tw: punishments, DARK, kidnapping, verbal abuse, physical abuse, cursing, choking, air play, darkdom wanda, dacryphilia, light pet play (bunny), degradation, overstimulation, face sitting, vibrators, gags, anal play

ch 4, ch 6 (coming soon)

wc: 2.6k

inspired by this fic

a/n: this fic was inspired by a fic i read forever ago but i cannot find the fic so if this is familiar and you know the fic plz lmk so I can give credit for inspo!!!

“It just—it reminds me of home.”

Wanda’s hand wrapped around my throat in the split of a second. Her firm grip was unforgiving. “What did you just say?”

“Mommy?” My lip quivered as I met her cold brown eyes. No her eyes were supposed to be soft and forgiving and—

She punched me. Her hand that was soft and gentle had just caused me so much pain. I cried out but she pulled me back up to face her.

“Home?” Her face was manic, nothing like I had seen before. “I want you to fucking repeat yourself.”

A sob escaped my throat at her tone. No she was the nice one, the one who always helped—

She punched me again, this time in the stomach. She still held me up as her eyes didn’t leave mine.

“Mommy please I—“

Another punch to my stomach.

“Are you stupid or you just didn’t understand me? Fucking repeat yourself.”

“It-it-it reminded me of—home.”

She growled in my face. “Ungrateful fucking slut.” She said in a low voice.

Wanda’s grip moved to my scalp and she pulled, pulled so hard I cried out. I was helpless to follow her as she marched into my room and into the attached bathroom.

The bathtub began instantly filling with water, quicker than it should have. Wanda threw me to the floor.

“Mommy I’m so sorry!” I yelled through my sobs. But she wasn’t listening. I kept repeating and repeating myself.

“You’re being a little harsh don’t you think.” I turned around to see Nat standing in the doorway. She leaned casually against the wall.

Wanda knelt down to my level. “Do you think I’m being unfair Bunny?”

“Mommy please.”

She tilted her head and the bathtub stopped filling. “Maybe I am…” She whispered.

I flinched as she brought her hand up but instead of slapping me, she soothingly rubbed my cheek. “This is your home now.”

“Y-Yes it is.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

She moved so fast, they both did. They forced my head into the cold bath water. I screamed out of pure instinct, my mouth filling with water as I tried to get out of their grip.

Hands pulled me back up. “This is your home.”

I was back under in an instant. They repeated this again and again until I was shaking and sputtering out apologizes and ‘I love yous’. They forced my head into the freezing water until I felt my lungs filling with water, until I felt like I was truly going to die.

I was freezing and sobbing as I came back together. My vision was blurry and my breathing still hurt. I could barely make out their figures as I kept trying to apologize. Words were hard, everything was hard.

The door slammed as I tried to crawl closer. Then I was alone. I screamed out for them. The tile flooring was so cold and the sheer outfit I was made to wear did nothing to help.

I rolled into a ball next to the door. Sobs still escaping my mouth I called out for them again.

“I’m so sorry! This is my home. You saved me, I was nothing then but you made me whole.” The words didn’t even feel foreign on my tongue anymore. “I love you mommy and daddy. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you…”

I repeated it over and over again until my voice was raw. Until the words wouldn’t come out anymore.

The lock in the door finally clicked. Natasha— daddy appeared. “Follow me, stay on your knees and don’t talk.”

I followed her immediately. She didn’t go far, just to the vanity chair in the corner of my room. She spread her legs, making room for me in between them.

“You disappointed us.” Tears instantly began flowing from my eyes again. “This is your home. We built it for you and you continue to disrespect us.”

I looked to the floor, trying to stay as quiet as possible. “Look at me.”

My eyes slowly rose, not wanting to receive another punishment. “Say it.”

“I love you daddy.”

“And.”

“And this is my home.”

“Good.”

Her hands moved to my dress, lifting it over my head and leaving me bare before her. “Stand up.”

My body shook but I obeyed. She pulled me down to lay across her lap. “50 spanks. You will say this is my home between every one of them.”

I sobbed and my bottom ached as she kept going. and going and going. I spoke between every one of them, my body was still so cold and in pain everywhere that it was hard to stay conscious, but I knew she would wake me up somehow.

When she finally reached fifty she took me into my bed. For the first time in a couple of days she chained me up. My arms above my head on the headboard and my ankles together.

“Daddy please don’t leave!” I cried out as she approached the door.

“Good girls get to sleep with us.”

I sobbed as the door locked shut.

…

The next few days passed slowly. Both women ignored me basically. They left me naked and chained up in my room, only feeding me when necessary. I sobbed and pleaded for them to stop but of course neither of them did.

By the end of the third day I couldn’t handle it anymore. But luckily, neither could they.

Natasha came into my room, unlocking my chains and pulling me to stand up. Last night she had gagged me, so I was unable to tell her how sorry I was. She walked me into the bathroom.

My body shook with fear as I tried to pull away from her. I screamed through my gag but it did little to help. Natasha didn’t address me, Just bringing me into the bathroom and starting the shower.

She walked me into it and didn’t close the door as the water ran down me. I slowly came to my senses. I washed myself and my hair, trying to ignore Natasha's gaze.

Once I was out, Natasha dried me off and dressed me. She slipped on a yellow dress. It was actually quite beautiful and not as scandalous as she typically dressed me in.

“Don't speak.” Her words were harsh as she removed the cloth gag from my lips. My jaw was so sore I didn’t even want to speak.

She got me ready, dried my hair, brushed my teeth, and even put on a little bit of makeup. I didn’t dare ask what this was all for, I needed out of this room.

In the dining room, a table was set for three. Candles were lit and soft music was playing in the background. “Oh bunny.” I flinched at her voice, She hadn’t spoken to me since…

“Beautiful beautiful girl.” Wanda pulled me closer to her, ushering me to the table. Natasha slid into the seat at the head of the small table. I had never sat by myself at the table, always in one of their laps.

“Is there anything you’d like to say to us?”

I swallowed hard as I looked to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“And…”

“And this is my home.”

“Good bunny.” My head perked up and looked at Wanda across from me. “Mommy may have been harsh-“

“I deserved it.” I quickly said. I had been rehearsing in my head all night what to say to them. “I was rude.”

Natasha’s hand reached my face, gently caressing it. “Yes you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

Wanda put her hand up. “No more, I'm sorry's.”

Food suddenly appeared on the plate, hopefully due to Wanda’s magic. The other two women dived in, was this a test? Nat had said I shouldn’t eat on my own.

“Is the food not good enough?” Wanda said, her voice back to that deadly bite.

“No mommy I promise it’s just…”

“Just what?”

I looked to Natasha for help. “I shouldn’t eat on my own.”

Natasha smiled and scooted back her chair. “Come here love.”

I smiled and practically jumped into her lap. I savored the warmth. My room hadn’t been cold over the course of my punishment, but it certainly wasn’t warm.

Dinner went by quick after that, the food was delicious. They put the dishes in the sink before ushering me out into the living room.

“Let’s play a little game.”

My heart raced in my chest at Wanda’s words but still I nodded.

“It’s called Good Bunny.”

“Good bunnies don’t talk.” Wanda said softly.

“Good bunnies aren’t allowed on the couch.” Natasha whispered in my ear.

She shoved me onto the floor, my ass surely getting a bruise from it.

“I don’t think bunnies wear clothes either. Take it off.”

My body and hands shook but I did as I was told. I could still feel the cold water surrounding me.

Naked in front of them, I sat on my knees and looked up at them.

“Good bunnies have tails don’t they? And little collars?”

Tails?

Natasha pulled out a small metal object with a white fluffy tail attached to it. While Wanda pulled out a small collar with a bell attached to it.

“Turn around and show us your cute little ass.”

It was easier now to obey them. A large part of me wanted to do this for them. I needed to make them love me again. Still I hated the nausea I got when I turned around and put my ass in the air. I hated when I was at their mercy.

I felt Natasha’s warm hands on me as she pulled apart my cheeks, leaving me bare in front of her. I cried out when her tongue licked up my tight hole. She did it over and over again, spitting and sucking and licking.

I hated it. I hated it. I hated it…

I could feel my pussy clenching around nothing. I hated my body for betraying me but fuck it did feel good. I couldn’t help the small moans that kept escaping me. It seemed to spur Natasha on even more.

Eventually I felt the cold metal object press into my hole. I yelped out in pain but Natasha held me firm. I felt the fuzzy tail flush against me as she filled my hole.

My head felt fuzzy and any movement went straight to my stomach. It honestly felt… amazing.

They pulled me back up and turned me around to face them. Wanda placed the small cloth collar around me, flicking the bell for good measure.

“How does it feel? Don’t lie.”

“Good, Mommy.”

Natasha quickly slapped me. “Bunnies don’t talk.”

My gaze quickly went to the floor. “Bunnies like to hump stuff don't they, Natty?”

“Of course they do, why don’t you show us, bunny.”

I had been wondering all night why Wanda still had her shoes on. A pair of black heels. She pressed one of her feet forward, beckoning me to use it.

I hated the feeling of my wet core on her heel but it felt so good. I slowly grinded myself on it, eventually finding my rhythm.

“Good bunny.” Wanda praised, patting my head. I loved her voice, her everything. I looked up at her face as my soaked pussy made a mess of her shoe. I couldn’t help the small moans that left my mouth.

I clenched around nothing as I felt my orgasm approaching. I greedily chased after it, not caring about the position I was in.

Wanda pushed me off of her and I landed on my back. Her shoe met my thigh, kicking it harshly. I spread my legs open for her, whining at the emptiness I felt.

“What a greedy little bunny.” Wanda cooed, standing up tall in front of me.

I wanted to apologize but I didn’t want to speak and break another rule. So instead I bit my lip and whined softly.

Her cold heel met my thigh and forcefully pressed down. I hissed at the pain but tried to keep my eyes on her face. “At least you’re a cute little bunny, huh.”

Wanda knelt down and straddled me, pressing her body flush against mine. “Such a dumb little bunny, needs mommy and daddy to take care of her.”

I nodded quickly, bringing my hands up to her side. I couldn’t even ignore the attraction I felt for her. She smiled down at me before leaning in and placing a kiss to my lips.

I moaned into it, her soft lips were heavenly against mine. I bucked my hips up, desperate for anything she would give me. “Eager little bunny.” She mumbled against my lips. “You know you haven’t made mommy cum yet. Wanna change that?”

“Please.”

She slapped me but quickly kissed my lips again. “Bunny’s don’t talk, but I know a perfect way to shut you up.”

She scooted forward, lifting up her dress and hovered over my face. “All you need to do is stick your tongue out for mommy, alright dumb bunny?”

I nodded, whining for her. “Good bunny.”

Her pussy tasted delicious. Nothing I had ever tasted before and I was addicted. My hands kept a firm grip on her waist as she grinded down on me. She cut off my airway in most ways but I didn’t care.

I felt Natasha cold fingers tracing my bare thighs. She began kissing at them, biting and sucking and licking everywhere I didn’t need her to. I whined and bucked my hips up but she was quick to press them back down.

Wanda’s moans filled my ears and everything else was lost to me. Natasha continued to tease and tease until I was about to cry with want.

Finally I felt something press against my sensitive bud. There were light vibrations that made my head spin. As Wanda rode and rode my face the vibrations became more and more intense.

My legs began to shake as I tried to hold off my orgasm. “Oh bunny, you’re such a good girl. Cum for mommy, do it bunny.”

I screamed around her pussy, my orgasm so intense I could barely function. But Natasha didn’t stop, neither did Wanda.

Wanda’s moans got louder and louder until she finally came on my face. I lapped up every bit of juice I could get as another orgasm washed over me.

I was still whimpering as she pulled away from me, sitting on the floor next to me. “Look at you bunny, such a good little pet.”

“Mommy-“ I deserved the slap she gave me but tears still prickled in my eyes.

I grabbed her hand, squeezing it hard and silently begging her to make Nat stop but Wanda only smiled. “Be a good bunny.”

“You wanna watch that new movie you mentioned, Wans?”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

I watched in fear as the two women stood up and laid back down on the couch. Wanda was using her magic to hold the vibrator at the perfect position to make me scream.

Tears streamed down my face as I came again, my vision was blurred as they curled up on the couch together.

“On your knees bunny.” Natasha beckoned me closer so I was sitting on the floor right in front of the two of them.

“Please daddy I can’t—“

Her rings cut me again with the force of her slap, “Dumb slut. Good bunny’s don’t talk.”

“In fact, I don’t want to hear her at all.”

My eyes widened as Wanda brought a ball gag up to my mouth. I was helpless as they attached it and shut me up.

“Now, let’s watch that movie Nat.”

[kxsagi]

Hihihi! I just stumbled upon your blog after taking a break from Tumblr, and I adore your writing!💕

I saw that your requests are open, so I thought I'd send one! I've never done this before, lmao, so sorry if I mess something up!

I was wondering if you could write something about arguing with the BL boys and then suddenly flashing them in the middle of it, asking them if they're still mad now?

I saw that you were fine with suggestive stuff in your rules, but feel free to ignore this if it's too much! I won't ask for specific characters other than maybe Chigiri? Thank you in advance for reading this! I hope you have an amazing day!💕

“𝐧𝐨, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰”

a/n: thank you girlie, you're so sweet, have an amazing day as well! 😚

title is a meddle about reference chase atlantic girls ily

suggestive content inside! 

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, kaiser michael, karasu tabito, ness alexis, niko ikki, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae

itoshi rin

you’re squaring up with him in the kitchen, halfway into a dramatic rant about how he never wipes down the counter after making his protein shakes. 

"do you know what cleaning is, rin? do you even see crumbs or is your brain like–" 

you cut yourself off, suddenly gripping the hem of your shirt and yanking it up with the speed of a magician doing a card trick. 

just. flash. like it’s the most casual part of your sentence. 

rin freezes. his jaw clenches, his whole body goes taut like he just got sniped from a rooftop. 

he doesn’t speak. doesn’t blink. 

his eye twitches like his brain is trying to keep functioning but a giant red ERROR screen just popped up in his mind. 

“… did you just… what is wrong with you,” he hisses, voice low and stunned. 

“you still mad?” 

he looks at you like you summoned the devil. “… you are so annoying. get over here.” 

he says it like a threat, but he's already reaching for you with dangerous intent. 

argument forgotten. you’ve created a new problem. 

isagi yoichi

you two are in the living room, arms crossed, facing off like two lawyers in a petty court show. 

"you NEVER close the cereal box. it gets stale, yoichi. stale. it’s like chewing cardboard." 

he’s rolling his eyes, "it’s not that deep–" 

you sigh like you’re done. then, without warning, you lift your shirt and flash him like you’re unveiling a secret treasure. 

it takes him exactly 1.5 seconds to process what just happened. 

he literally chokes on his own spit. 

“WAIT?! wait, wait, wait–” 

his voice jumps three octaves. his hands flail like he’s trying to rewind reality. 

“did you just–?! are you crazy?! i was–i mean, we were fighting!” 

you just smile innocently. “you still mad, though?” 

he’s red from the neck up, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“i-i need a timeout. a breather. some water. i–” 

spends the next 10 minutes pacing in the kitchen muttering, “i’m dating a menace��� with a lovesick grin, replaying the image in his head like a perv. 

nagi seishiro

he’s lying on the couch, playing games, while you rant about how he left his laundry in the washer again. 

“it’s gonna get moldy, sei! do you even care?! i’m not your maid!” 

he groans. “too loud. i can’t hear my game.” 

and that’s it. you snap. 

you walk over and lift your hoodie in one swift move, flashing him right as he scores a kill. 

he literally drops the controller. 

“woah.” eyes locked. mouth slightly open. 

he just blinks and says, “that’s not fair. now i forgot what i was mad about.” 

“you weren’t mad.” 

“exactly. we’re even now.” 

immediately lies down with his head in your lap, face smushed against your thighs like he’s done anything productive all day. 

mutters into your skin, “flash me again? i need it for my health.” 

chigiri hyoma

you’re in his room, arms crossed, glaring at him for bailing on a hangout to go to the gym again. 

“you didn’t even text. i sat there alone for 40 minutes–” 

he tries to cut in. “pretty, i told you i had–” 

you ignore him. you step closer, grab the edge of your shirt with both hands, and– 

flash. 

his jaw drops. his soul leaves his body. 

“what the hell?!” 

his face explodes in red, like he got hit by a tomato. 

“what was that? was that a power move?!” 

“you still mad at me?” 

he swallows. hard. “… i was gonna defend myself but now i wanna marry you so i win either way.” 

immediately flops onto the bed and yells into a pillow. 

refuses to look you in the eye for 10 minutes. 

whispers later, “i love you, but i’m never winning another argument again, am i?” 

mikage reo

he’s mid-speech about how you should “just let him spoil you,” and you’re mid-speech about how “you don’t need a $500 pair of slippers.” 

the room is tense. luxurious. slightly dramatic. 

you interrupt yourself mid-sentence by slipping off your oversized sweater with flair, flashing him like you’re presenting a damn exhibit. 

reo’s reaction is instant. 

his mouth slowly curves into the cockiest, hungriest smile you’ve ever seen. 

his voice drops two octaves. 

“oh? that’s how we’re playing now?” 

“you still mad?” 

“i wasn’t mad, but now i’m incredibly distracted.” 

walks toward you like a man possessed. 

says dumb flirty things like, “wanna be my sugarbaby and my therapist?” 

spoiler: you never finish the argument. 

he wires money to your account and takes off his own shirt just to match. 

kaiser michael

he’s all smug and loud, spinning around in a designer chair like he owns the universe. 

you’re arguing about his ego. 

“you can’t call yourself ‘a gift from god’ in front of my parents.” 

he smirks. “they agreed with me.” 

you stare him down. then without breaking eye contact, you pull your shirt up and flash him with zero hesitation. 

he blinks once. twice. then he smirks wider. 

“… oh, liebe. that was dangerous.” 

leans back in his chair, tongue poking the inside of his cheek like he’s trying not to get feral too fast. 

“are you still mad?” 

“no. but you’ve signed yourself up for so much trouble.” 

five seconds later: you’re on his lap. 

he calls you a “cheater” while whispering unholy things in german. 

you never win the argument, but now neither does he. 

karasu tabito

he’s being an idiot. again. 

said something sarcastic. you called him out. now it’s five minutes of dumb back-and-forth in the hallway. 

you sigh. “you know what?” 

you reach down, pull up your shirt, and flash him like you’re changing the subject on a powerpoint slide. 

he gasps. no, squeaks. 

stumbles backward into the wall like you just slapped him with a holy vision. 

“MA’AM?!” 

staring at you like you just performed a magic trick. 

“you still mad?” 

he shakes his head, stunned. “not mad. but i might need a moment to process this. maybe therapy.” 

starts cracking jokes to cope. “was that a jumpscare or a proposal? because either way, i’m in love.” 

never stops talking about it. 

refers to it later as “the day he saw god.” 

ness alexis

you were in the middle of a heated argument (probably about kaiser). 

“why do you let him treat you like that? he’s not your boyfriend, alexis–” 

“he’s not treating me badly! you just don’t understand him!” 

and he’s got his hand on his chest, eyes glossy, one foot already stomping into a diva spiral. 

you inhale slowly. then– 

flash. shirt up. deadpan face. 

he stops. dead silent. his hands freeze mid-gesture, trembling ever so slightly. eyes wide, lips parted like he just got slapped with a romance novel. 

“... you’re weaponizing your chest.” 

“you still mad?” 

he blinks. gasps. 

covers his face with both hands, voice cracking, “y-you can’t just DO THAT! i’m vulnerable!” 

starts crying-laughing like a victorian wife who saw her husband naked for the first time. 

he’s pacing. dramatically. 

"i feel faint. lightheaded. i need to sit. or lie down. preferably on top of you. for stability." 

somehow the fight ends with him in your lap. 

whispers, "don’t tell kaiser. he’ll start using it against me." 

niko ikki

you’re arguing about him spending 6 straight hours on his game, ignoring your texts. 

“do you even remember you have a girlfriend, or is league your real soulmate?!” 

he frowns, flustered. “i was in ranked! you always say you want me to do what i love–” 

flash. 

you just hit him with a quick shirt lift and stare him down. 

his pupils dilate like he just activated his sharingan. his blue lens glasses slip down his nose. his mouth opens. closes. 

he’s buffering like a video on 2G data. 

“what the hell was that for?!” 

“you still mad at me?” 

he’s trying so hard not to look again. 

“… i’m not mad, but i’m deeply concerned for my sanity right now.” 

you smirk, turning away like the boss you are. 

behind you, he silently clenches his fist and mutters, “i love her so much it’s ruining my life.” 

texts you later from the next room: “you made me knock over my water.” 

shidou ryusei

you’re in the middle of a heated argument, likely because shidou can’t take a hint. 

“i’ve told you a thousand times to stop leaving your clothes everywhere!” 

“i literally live here. where else am i supposed to put them?” 

“on your damn body, for starters!” 

he’s grinning like the chaotic gremlin he is, clearly trying to get under your skin. 

you stare at him for a moment, silently deciding: this ends now. 

flash. 

you yank your shirt up, but keep your eyes locked on him. no warning. no hesitation. 

his face goes from smirk to confusion to full-on shock in a matter of seconds. 

his eyes widen, and he just... stops. his body visibly jerks back like he’s been hit by a truck. 

“… what the hell?” 

he snaps his head to the side like he’s trying to reset his brain, then dramatically blinks about 50 times. 

“you still mad?” 

his usual cocky, devil-may-care expression falls into full flustered chaos. 

“… no. not anymore. but you just became my new favorite person. you wanna keep doing that, or should we keep fighting?” 

he drops the argument completely and starts lowkey following you around for the rest of the day. 

mutters to himself like a love-struck fool: “this is it. she’s my queen.” 

proceeds to try to make you more mad for the rest of the week just to get another flash. it’s working. 

itoshi sae

oh, it’s on now. sae is being sae. classic emotionally distant asshole. 

you’ve been trying to get him to talk about his feelings, but he keeps brushing you off. 

“stop acting like you’re some kind of unreachable god,” you snap. 

“i’m not the problem here, you are,” he counters with that trademark smugness. 

and just when you think you’re about to lose your mind, you don’t even flinch, you just flash him. 

your shirt lifts slowly, not in a teasing way, just purely to make a point. 

his whole world crashes for a split second. sae freezes mid-sentence. he blinks. his eyes widen slightly. 

you watch the exact moment his composure starts cracking, the cool facade slipping just enough to reveal– 

“did you just–?” 

“you still mad?” 

his breath catches in his throat, voice suddenly a little hoarse. “… i’m not mad, but i might be a little… distracted now.” 

he clears his throat, trying to act like he’s in control, but it’s a losing battle. 

“gosh, you’re insufferable,” he mutters, but there’s this shift in his tone, the way his hand instinctively reaches out toward you like he's trying to anchor himself. 

you can tell he's so turned on, but he's also mad about it. 

he stares at you like you’ve just opened the gates of heaven, and he's not sure if he wants to kiss you or run from you. 

you’ve won. and he knows it. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[alohajix]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐚𝐩𝐞

Description: she said she wasn’t nervous. She said she'd never done this before. But then he walked in—and made her forget every lie she told herself. The Casting Tape — you only need to watch it once to come back for more.

Warnings: this one-shot includes explicit sexual content, including fingering, oral sex (M/F), face-fucking, rough grinding, dirty talk, praise kink, light choking, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), and graphic language. Readers +18.

Words count: ~ 7K.

I understand you guys really enjoyed “First Time for Everything”. So here’s a new one-shot I've been working on for a while, featuring pornstar!harry once again.

please enjoyyy💕

*****

I almost didn’t walk through the door. It looked too normal from the outside—just a nondescript black building sandwiched between a vape shop and a custom auto wrap place. No sign. No logo. Just a metal door and a tiny keypad. I stood there for a full minute, staring at my reflection in the door’s narrow glass panel, wondering what the hell I was doing. My fingers fidgeted with the zipper on my hoodie as I debated bailing. But then I remembered rent. And how many hours I’d spent reading that post.

“Paid casting opportunity. Professional, safe, filmed. No pressure to continue. Just be yourself.”

So I buzzed in. A soft click, and I stepped inside. The air was cool, sterile, quiet. A short hallway led to a room that looked more like a YouTube set than anything porn-related—white walls, gray backdrop, soft box lights aimed at a plain black leather couch. A camera was already set up on a tripod, its little red light blinking lazily like it was waiting. There was no one else in the room, just a low table with a water bottle and a clipboard. I approached it like it might bite.

“Hey there,” a voice called from behind me—low, male, casual. “You can grab a seat. We’ll start in a second.”

I turned to find a guy with a headset leaning against the doorframe, sipping coffee. He looked more like someone who worked in tech support than adult film, and he barely glanced at me. That helped a little. I gave him a tight smile and sat down on the couch, tucking one leg under the other. The camera stared back at me. I wiped my sweaty palms on my denim skirt.

“You go by your real name or a stage name?” the voice asked.

I hesitated. “Stage name.”

He chuckled. “Smart. What should we call you?”

“…Lola.” I don’t know where it came from. I didn’t even know anyone named Lola.

“Cute,” he said. “Alright, Lola. We’re just gonna ask you a few questions. Keep your eyes on the camera, speak clearly, be yourself.”

I nodded once. The camera light turned solid red.

“Tell us how old you are and why you’re here.”

My voice came out a little too fast. “Twenty-two. I—uh—I heard about this through a friend of a friend. Thought it might be… interesting.”

“And have you done anything like this before?”

I forced a smile. “Not professionally.”

He chuckled again, friendly but disinterested. “Good answer. So—this is a soft casting. No pressure to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We just want to see how you come across on camera. If it feels natural, maybe we’ll try a short chemistry test.”

My stomach flipped. “Chemistry test?”

“With a partner,” he clarified. “Clothed or not. Touching or not. Totally up to you.”

I swallowed hard. “And who’s the partner?”

“Hey, man,” the guy said suddenly, glancing over my shoulder. “You mind stepping in for a quick test?”

I didn’t hear footsteps. I felt them. Slow. Heavy. Purposeful. And then I heard his voice.

“Yeah. I’ve got time.” I turned. And immediately forgot how to breathe.

He walked in wearing a black T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair tucked under a gray beanie, tattooed arms on full display. Calm. Comfortable. Like he belonged here. And when his eyes met mine—green, curious, knowing—I had to look away before I gave something away.

I knew who he was. Everyone who’s ever dipped into amateur porn knew who he was. He wasn’t just a pornstar—he was the pornstar. The one known for making people cry in the best way possible. The one who ruined girls for normal guys. The one I may or may not have watched the night I sent my application in.

“Hi,” he said softly, voice like silk. “I’m Harry.” Of course he was.

I tried to remember how to smile. “Hi.”

He looked me over—slowly, respectfully, but definitely. His gaze dragged from my hoodie to my bare thighs, then up to my lips before meeting my eyes again.

“You okay to keep going?” he asked. “Or just here to talk?” His tone was soft. Patient.

I bit my lip. I should’ve said no. I should’ve kept it simple. But the way he was looking at me… “Let’s try,” I said quietly.

His mouth curled into a half-smile. “We’ll go slow.”

He sat beside me on the couch, leaving just enough space between us that it felt intentional. His thigh brushed mine every time I shifted, and I wasn’t sure if it was on purpose—but I hoped it was.

The camera was still rolling. “You nervous?” he asked, his voice low and almost amused.

“A little,” I admitted. “You’re not exactly a nobody.”

He smiled at that—soft, slow, like he was letting the compliment soak into his skin.

“Well, I’ve done a few of these,” he said, tilting his body slightly toward me. “So if you want to stop at any point, you say the word. We good on that?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Safe word or something?”

“We can use red. If you want to pause, say yellow. But honestly? Just talk to me. I listen.”

God, that shouldn’t have made my stomach twist—but it did. His hand landed gently on my knee. Just a touch. Nothing dirty. But the weight of it made my heart skip.

“Can I touch you a little more?” he asked.

I swallowed and nodded. “Yes.”

He slid his hand up my thigh, slow and deliberate, until his fingers curled around the bare skin just beneath the hem of my skirt. His pinky brushed the side of my underwear. He didn’t move further. He just… held me.

“See? You’re already shaking a little,” he said, voice soft like a secret.

“I’m not,” I lied.

His thumb moved lazily across my thigh. “You are. That’s okay, though. Nervous is normal. But you look good nervous.”

I smirked despite myself. “Is that your line?”

“No,” he said, leaning in just a little. “That’s the truth.”

His other hand reached up, fingers playing with the zipper of my hoodie. He didn’t pull it down right away—he just watched my face.

“Can I?”

I nodded again. “Yeah.”

He tugged the zipper down, slow as hell. I didn’t wear a bra on purpose—I’d told myself it was about being comfortable, but I’d also known what kind of job this was. I’d wanted to feel like I was ready for it, even if I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. He pushed the hoodie off my shoulders, revealing my thin tank top underneath—white, ribbed, tight. My nipples were already hard beneath the fabric.

His eyes dropped for half a second. “Fuck.”

“What?” I teased.

“You’re hot.” His voice dipped lower, rougher. “Didn’t expect that.”

I grinned. “You didn’t look me up before this?”

He leaned closer, lips near my ear. “Didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Fuck. That got to me. I shifted in my seat, squeezing my thighs together, and his hand didn’t miss it.

“You get turned on easily, don’t you?” he murmured.

“Only when someone says shit like that.”

He chuckled, and it vibrated straight through me. “Alright then. Let’s see how much you can take before we even get your clothes off.”

He turned to face me fully, his hand now resting between my thighs, thumb pressing lightly at the crease where leg met hip. I was still covered, but it felt dangerously intimate.

“Look at me,” he said. I did.

His hand moved to my waist, sliding under the hem of my shirt. His palm was warm on my bare skin, fingertips grazing my ribcage, tracing just under the curve of my breast. His thumb brushed upward, catching the edge of my nipple through the fabric—and I gasped, barely holding still.

“Sensitive?” he asked, eyes still locked on mine. I nodded, biting my lip.

He pinched lightly—just enough to make me jerk—and then soothed the spot with his palm.

“You’re already breathing like you’ve been at this for an hour.”

“Maybe I just like the way you touch,” I whispered.

He grinned again. “Yeah?”

His other hand cupped the back of my neck, fingers sliding into my hair as he leaned in. “I’m gonna kiss you now. Okay?”

I nodded. “Please.” And then he kissed me. Slow. Firm. One hand holding my jaw just right while the other teased under my shirt. His lips moved against mine like he had all the time in the world. He tasted like mint and something just a little bit sweet—god, it was unfair how good he was at this.

My mouth opened for him on instinct, tongue brushing his as he deepened the kiss. I whimpered before I meant to, and he smiled against my lips.

“There it is,” he murmured. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

He pulled me onto his lap. I didn’t even realize I’d moved until I felt his thighs beneath mine, the stretch of my skirt riding up, the thick press of him already hard beneath me.

“You wanna keep going?” he asked, hand splayed on my lower back.

“Yes.”

“You wanna keep your clothes on for now?”

I nodded again. “Let me stay like this.”

He gave a slow, approving nod. “Smart girl.”

I started to grind—tentatively, testing—and he held me tighter.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “That’s it. Just like that.”

His hands stayed on my waist, guiding me. My panties were soaked through already, and he hadn’t even touched me properly. His cock pressed up against my center through both layers, and the friction was delicious.

“Feel what you’re doing to me?” he whispered. I nodded. “Good. Don’t stop.” I didn’t.

I rocked against him slowly, rhythmically, trying to match the pace of his hands, trying not to let my moans get too loud. But the fabric was slick, and I was clenching around nothing, desperate for more. He leaned up to kiss me again, slower this time, while grinding back into me with little thrusts of his hips.

“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he whispered. “Using me to get yourself off. All clothed. So dirty, baby.”

God, baby—the way it rolled off his tongue nearly made me come.

“I wanna see you fall apart,” he said against my lips. “But not yet. Gotta take my time with you.”

I whimpered, hands clutching his shoulders. “Why?”

“‘Cause I want it to be unforgettable.”

I didn’t mean to drop to my knees. It just happened. One second, I was straddling him, moaning into his mouth, and the next, I was slipping down between his legs, hands trailing over his thighs like they belonged there. He didn’t stop me. Didn’t say a word—just leaned back on the couch and watched me with that slow-burning smirk, his chest rising and falling like he already knew what I was going to do next.

“You sure about this?” he asked, voice husky.

I nodded as I settled between his thighs, reaching for the waistband of his sweats. “You’ve been hard since I got here.”

His brow ticked up. “And you think that means you get to do something about it?”

I looked up at him, tilted my head innocently. “I know I do.”

He grinned. “Cocky.”

“I learned from the best,” I said, tugging his sweats down just enough to free him. And fuck.

I’d seen it before—on screens, in videos—but nothing prepared me for the way it looked up close. Thick, long, already leaking at the tip. Veins along the shaft. His entire body was unfair, but this? This was just cruel.

I wrapped my hand around him slowly.

“You gonna stare at it all day, or you gonna do something?” he teased.

I licked a long stripe from the base to the tip, just to shut him up. His breath caught.

“Mouth open,” he murmured. I obeyed, letting my tongue hang out as I stroked him slowly. He was heavy in my hand, warm and twitching, and when I finally took him into my mouth, I moaned like it was for me, not him.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, his head tipping back. “You’re better than half the girls I’ve filmed with.”

I pulled back just enough to say, “That supposed to make me feel special?”

He looked down at me with a grin. “It should.” Then he shifted his hips forward a little, his hand slipping into my hair. “Hold still,” he said. “Let me fuck your mouth a little.”

I whimpered, nodding as he gathered my hair in his fist and guided me back down. His thrusts were slow at first, controlled, testing. He pushed past my lips and onto my tongue, letting me feel every inch. I hollowed my cheeks around him, drool already sliding down my chin. The angle made my throat ache—but I didn’t care. He watched every second.

“That’s it,” he praised. “Look at me. Eyes up. Fuck—just like that.” I moaned around him, and he groaned in return, gripping my hair tighter. “You like this?” he asked. “Being used a little?”

I blinked up at him, spit trailing from my lip to the base of his cock. “Yes.”

“How filthy are you, baby?”

I swallowed him deeper before answering. “Wanna choke on it.”

He smirked, that filthy edge sharpening in his eyes. “Greedy girl.”

He held my jaw and started to fuck into my mouth harder, sloppier. My mascara was running—I could feel it—and my knees were going numb, but I didn’t care. Not when he was groaning and panting above me, thumb wiping spit from the corner of my mouth.

“Open wider,” he growled. “Let me all the way in.”

I did. He pushed in until the tip hit the back of my throat, and I gagged—but he didn’t stop. He stayed there for a second, watching the tears spill down my cheeks before pulling back with a wet, obscene pop.

“Good girl,” he breathed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” I blinked up at him, dazed and wrecked, lips puffy and slick. “You want me to come in your mouth?” he asked.

“No.” He raised a brow. “I want more than that.” He stared at me for a beat. Then he reached down, grabbed my arm, and pulled me gently to my feet.

“Take your clothes off.”

I hesitated, chest heaving. “All of them?”

“All of them,” he said softly. “Want to see what kind of mess I’ve made.”

I peeled off my hoodie first, even though it had already been unzipped. My tank top followed, sticky with sweat. Then my skirt. Then my panties—soaked, clinging to my thighs. His eyes drank me in.

“You’re soaked.”

“You made me like this.”

He stood up—slow, deliberate—and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth, then my neck, then lower, until he was kneeling in front of me.

“You ever squirt before?” he asked, voice low.

I swallowed hard. “No.”

He smirked. “Might today.” Then he leaned in and dragged his tongue across my inner thigh.

He didn’t go for my pussy right away. Instead, he kissed every inch around it—my thighs, the crease of my hip, the patch of skin just above my mound. His hands wrapped around my legs, holding me steady as he took his time. The anticipation had my stomach fluttering, my cunt clenching around nothing, desperate to be touched.

“Please,” I whispered, shifting.

He looked up at me from between my legs, his lips shiny with spit. “Yeah?”

I nodded, breath shaky. “I—I need—”

He slid one finger up my slit, slow as hell. “You need this?” he asked, teasing my clit with the lightest touch. “Or my mouth?”

“Both.”

He grinned. “Good answer.” Then he dove in.

His mouth latched around my clit like he’d missed it, like he owned it. His tongue flicked and sucked, alternating between slow pressure and fast strokes that made my legs tremble. I cried out, one hand gripping the back of the couch, the other tangled in his hair. He moaned against me when I tugged, and I felt it vibrate through my whole body.

“F-fuck,” I gasped. “Harry—”

“You taste so sweet,” he muttered between licks. “Could stay here all day.”

He pushed two fingers into me while his tongue kept working, curling them just right. My back arched off the couch, a moan ripping from my throat so loud I was sure the mic picked it up.

“That’s it,” he said. “Let them hear how good I’m making you feel.”

I was already on the edge, too fast, too intense—and he knew it.

“You close?” he asked, sliding his fingers faster, deeper, hitting every nerve ending I had.

I nodded, gasping. “Yes—yes—fuck, don’t stop—” He stopped. Pulled back. Fingers still inside me, but barely moving. I whimpered. “Why—”

“Cause I want you to come on my cock, not my tongue.”

“Fucking mean,” I whispered.

He smirked. “You like it.” I hated how right he was.

He stood and kicked off his sweats fully this time, leaving him completely naked—tall, lean, toned. Tattoos stretched across his chest, down his arms. His cock was heavy and thick, standing up proudly, still slick from my mouth. He grabbed a condom from the table behind him—but I stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“Don’t,” I said softly. His eyes locked on mine.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I’m clean. On the pill. I want to feel all of you.”

His jaw clenched. “Fuck, you’re gonna ruin me.”

He climbed back onto the couch, pulling me into his lap again. This time, we were both naked. Skin against skin. He lined himself up with one hand, the other gripping my waist.

“Take it slow,” he murmured. I did. I sank down on him inch by inch, gasping at the stretch, the burn, the way he filled me up so deep I thought I might break.

He kept eye contact the whole time. “Look at you,” he said. “Taking it so well.”

I whimpered when I bottomed out, thighs shaking.

“So fucking tight,” he growled. “You weren’t made for this, were you?”

I moaned. “Maybe I was made for you.” That broke something in him.

His hands gripped my hips, and he started to move—slow thrusts upward that hit just right. I rocked against him, chasing friction, rolling my hips as he fucked up into me.

“Say my name,” he ordered.

“Harry.”

“Louder.”

“Harry.”

“Tell me how it feels.”

“So fucking good,” I gasped. “You’re so deep—fuck—it’s so good.” His hand came up to my throat, not squeezing, just holding.

“You’re gonna come like this?” he asked. “Like a needy little slut in my lap?”

I nodded frantically. “Yes—please, I need it—I need to come—”

“Then come.”

I shattered. The orgasm hit like a wave, crashing through me in pulses that left me crying out his name, clinging to him, hips still rocking even as I trembled. He held me through it, whispered praise into my ear.

“Good girl,” he breathed. “So fucking good for me.” But he wasn’t done. He flipped me over onto the couch, face-down, ass up. “Not finished with you yet,” he growled.

He slid back into me easily, grabbing my hips and fucking into me hard now—rough, deep, animalistic. My cheek pressed against the cushion, mouth open as he pounded into me.

“You want it rough?” he panted. “You want to feel how hard you made me?”

“Y-yes—fuck—yes—”

He slapped my ass, hard. “Say you love it.”

“I fucking love it.”

“Say who’s fucking you.”

“Harry—Harry’s fucking me—please don’t stop—”

He leaned over me, one hand tangled in my hair, the other holding my throat as he fucked me from behind. Skin slapping, breath ragged, everything filthy and perfect.

“Gonna come on you,” he groaned. “Wanna see you dripping.”

“Yes,” I begged. “Do it—please—come on me—”

He pulled out just in time, stroking himself fast before spilling hot all over my lower back and ass, groaning through gritted teeth. I lay there, trembling, dripping, wrecked. Breathing like I’d run a marathon.

He exhaled a long breath, letting it hang in the quiet between us. The only sound now was the soft hum of the camera still rolling. The red light blinked steadily, like it had witnessed every filthy, raw second of what just happened. Harry sat back, eyes scanning over me like he wasn’t sure if he was done yet—or just trying to memorize how I looked. Wrecked. Flushed. My hair a mess. My thighs still trembling.

“Stay there a sec,” he said, voice a little rougher than before.

I blinked up at him, cheek still pressed to the couch cushion, and nodded. He disappeared for a moment and came back with a warm towel. He didn’t rush—just knelt beside me, gently wiping me clean, taking his time like he actually cared. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was just good at playing the part. But something about the way his fingers grazed my skin, soft and unhurried, made my chest ache.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, gaze flicking up to mine.

I nodded. “Yeah. Just… that was a lot.”

A slow grin pulled at his mouth. “Good lot or bad lot?”

“Really good.”

He handed me the towel and stood up to grab water bottles. When he tossed one to me, I caught it with shaky hands.

“You looked like you’ve done that before,” he said, sitting down beside me again—close, but not touching.

“I haven’t,” I replied, twisting the cap off. “Not like that.”

He raised a brow. “You sure?”

I smiled. “Trust me. I’d remember if someone ever made me feel like that before.” He went quiet, watching me sip.

“You ever actually plan on watching the footage?” I looked at him. At the blinking red light still recording.

“I kind of want to,” I admitted.

He nodded slowly. “I’ll show you mine… if you come back and film another one.” I stared at him, half smiling, half stunned.

“You saying that to everyone who comes through here?”

“Nope.” He leaned in just slightly, voice lower. “Just the ones who moan my name like they mean it.”

I laughed, flushed, and shook my head. “You’re dangerous.”

He smirked. “Only on camera.” I didn’t believe that for a second. But I wanted to find out.

[lovelyhan]

— meet cute of the century ⟢

the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader

★ WORD COUNT; 25.4k words

★ TAGS; meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, discourse abt being an idol as a career, mild angst, smut

★ NOTES; it's finally done!! and it turned out to be the longest oneshot i've written ever T T i reaaally didn't mean it to become this long but i got overly self-indulgent so here we are :3c also psa that this story features a handful of other characters from the series, so if you find them familiar that's totally on purpose HEH

this is part of the doting on you! series.

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, service top wonwoo, praise kink, voice kink, first time together, fingering, creampie, ofc they're grossly in love

★ TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @coffeestay - @jkbabiey

★ SERIES TAGLIST; @ti--red - @jeonwonhi - @gyusbabydoll - @xiaoting999 - @marksluvr0 - @ohmyhuenings - @downbadreading

P.S. i reserve the right to refuse to add you to my taglist if you don't have any age indicators in your profile :^)

There are a handful of things that a college student can do with their free time. Studying, hanging out with friends, and maybe even picking up a hobby of sorts. You, on the other hand, use up all the hours you’re not spending on your undergrad thesis or sleeping the day away at an animal shelter just a few minutes away from your apartment. 

Your friends constantly wonder how you’re still able to maintain a remarkable GPA with a part-time job that’s starting to look full-time, but you just laugh their questions off for the most part—saying that other people have got it worse than you, but can still perform leagues better academically. 

You also tell them that most of your motivation comes from all the unadopted animals from the shelter. You started as a volunteer just to kill time on weekends when you’re free, but even if you knew better than to get attached to all those adorable faces, you eventually found yourself on the employee roster anyways. 

Now you’re rushing to finish your degree so you can get a neat sugar mommy job that’ll let you afford to adopt everyone that’s been stuck in the shelter for nearly a year or more.

Okay, maybe not everyone because you’re no fool with a savior complex. But just enough to give a few furry friends a new home, right?

“Don’t look now,” your coworker, Mina whispers conspiratorially while you’re in the middle of snacking in the break room, “but that cutie you’ve been crushing on just walked inside. He’s checking out the cats out in the playroom as usual.”

Right. Apart from your altruistic dream of adopting as many animals as your financial capabilities can allow, there’s another reason you’re always looking forward to your shifts at the shelter. A reason that you’re a bit too embarrassed to let your friends know about.

You nearly choke on a potato chip when Mina informs you of the news and she immediately breaks into a fit of laughter. Glaring at her, you compose yourself with a long gulp of water before saying, “I do not have a crush on him.”

“Sure,” she plays along. “If you consider making googly eyes at the guy every time he drops by as ‘not having a crush on him’, then I’ll concur.” 

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t, sweetheart. Now get out there and sweet talk him into taking one of the kittens home! Pretty sure he wants one if he’s been showing up as much as he did for the last two months.” 

While you would’ve argued that the so-called cutie you’ve been crushing on could just like seeing the cats play around in his free time, you don’t really have much energy to play mental gymnastics with Mina. You’ve had a long day of revisions and other nonsense materials you have to submit for your majors, so you’ll let this one slide.

Your workplace is as bleak as every other shelter you’ve seen a few times in your life. Gray walls, concrete floors, and steel cages stacked on top of each other. It looks more like a prison than anything, really, but it’s the staff and those kind-hearted souls who rehome animals that have long been abandoned that give the entire place some life.

While Mister Cutie That You’ve Been Quote-Unquote Crushing On doesn’t exactly fall into either of those categories, you like to think he still leaves the building just a touch more colorful once he walks out of the front door. 

Speaking of color, he’s wearing a loose, dark green shirt that falls just below his elbows. Cutie—as you’ve deigned to call him not because you think he’s cute but because you’re yet to get his name—has one palm flattened across the viewing glass of the playroom. He’s wearing his usual black face mask today, but from the way his eyes glint behind his glasses, you’re just going to assume he’s having a good time just by watching the cats frolic inside.

“You’re here pretty late,” you state nonchalantly before standing a few feet away from him. 

“Is that so strange?” he murmurs with a chuckle, surprisingly not startled with your sudden entrance before glancing your way. “I always show up here at this hour, don’t I?”

God. No matter how many times you hear his voice, you just can’t get over how deep it is. But before any of your thoughts could show on your face, you get talking.

“True. You’ve sparked a debate among the volunteers about your line of work, actually.” Not exactly. You’re not sure if any of the volunteers have even seen this guy, since they mostly work day shifts. “Anyway, are you just here to check ‘em out or am I finally going to hand you the adoption papers?”

His eyes crinkle a bit before he shifts his gaze towards the playroom again. Most of the older cats have already been put back in their respective cages. All that’s left inside are the kittens with way too much energy to spare. The director, A.K.A., your boss, believes that it’s best to tire them out first before settling them into individual enclosures for the night. Keeps the place nice and quiet for the evening shift fellows like yourself.

“Not yet, sadly,” Cutie says with a sigh before pointing at a small black kitten huddled up in a corner. “That one’s new, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve seen him around before.” 

“Her,” you correct. “Her name’s Hani. She’s a stray that someone from the university I’m attending brought in last week. It was pretty ugly, actually. Poor thing got into an accident and was bleeding everywhere. Good thing our usual vet was paying a visit when they came here.”

“Oh? That’s a relief then. No wonder she’s got a little limp every time she walks around,” he observes with a saddened tone. “But I digress. You mentioned you were attending university?”

…Okay, why’d the topic of interest suddenly shift to you? 

But since it’s a harmless enough question, you reply with, “Yeah. The one that’s just a few blocks away. It’s kinda why the person who found Hani brought her here instead of a vet clinic. The nearest one’s like half an hour away.”

“Good call, good call.” He nods with a look of understanding. “I hope someone comes and adopts her. She deserves all the love she can get. Well, everyone here does of course.” 

You flash him a conniving smile, raising your brows a few times. “You could give that to her.”

Cutie shakes his head with another low-pitched laugh. “As much as I’d love to, my…living conditions won’t be suitable for her at all. Or any of the other animals for the matter.”

“Hm?” You stare at him curiously. “Your landlord doesn’t allow pets or something?”

“Mmm… Not exactly.”

The conversation pretty much ends there. Cutie excuses himself—saying that someone is waiting for him at home. You don’t know why your heart deflates a little at the very real possibility that he has a significant other. Then again, if you’re this whipped when you haven’t even seen his face, you could only imagine how easy it would be for him to settle down with someone who has.

Either way, it’s none of your business. And correction: you’re not whipped. Just…hyper aware of his presence every time he stops by.

Despite the fact that you’re dead-set on filing this strange fascination you have for the guy, however…

“Wait!”

Cutie turns around to face you with an inquisitive look. “Yes?”

You swallow thickly, deciding to just bite the bullet before your nerves get the best of you. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Cu—I mean, Glasses Guy in my head whenever you pay us a visit.”

He blinks for a few seconds, obviously nonplussed by your forwardness but you don’t think your pride can take it anymore if you had to refer to him as—

“You can call me Woo,” he says warmly and you can almost see the smile that stretches behind that black face mask.

Shit. Did your heart just stutter?

“Mister Woo—”

“Just Woo is fine.”

“Okay, Woo,” you start, kind of liking the way that something that’s obviously a nickname rolls off the tongue, “just let me know if you ever want to take Hani home. We’re open twenty four-seven, as you already know.”

He nods. “Sure thing. Is it okay if I can get your number for that?”

Now you have to fight the urge to scowl at him after he’s been so nice to you all night—and every other night he’s dropped by. 

This guy isn’t flirting with you. He said it himself—someone’s waiting for him at home. Plus, he’s expressed consistent interest in adopting a kitten for himself a handful of times before. Maybe he just connected with Hani on a level that’s above the others. Enough to ask for your number since the possibility of him bringing one of these angels home is becoming more and more real. 

Yeah, that’s definitely the reason!

So you give it to him—hastily scrawled behind an old flier gathering dust in one of the drawers on the front desk. It’s way too big to write just yours and the shelter’s contact details on, but the other calling cards are nowhere in sight. You’ll have to ask Mina if she’s seen them once—

“Thanks. I’ll keep in touch,” Woo tells you while folding the sheet of paper into a sleek black Louis Vuitton wallet.

Wait a minute.

Before you can even seriously ponder about what job he’s got to be able to afford that, Woo is already out of the door—heading into the evening streets without once looking back. 

“Gosh, I swear that guy’s an idol in disguise or something.”

That’s the first thing that Mina tells you when you find her doing a few rounds among the sleeping dogs in the far back. You haven’t even spoken a single word about your most recent exchange. 

“What makes you think that?” 

“He just exudes idol vibes, y’know? Shows up here when the place is deserted. Always acts subtle and inconspicuous. Oh and not to mention how hot he looks even with a face mask on! He could be that one idol your little sister is crazy about.” 

You roll your eyes at her odd ways of deduction. “Mina, I’ve seen enough of Haewon’s Mingyu merch to last a lifetime and Woo definitely does not look like him.”

“Oh?” Your coworker perks up with a mischievous smile. “You finally got his name, huh?”

God. This is going to be a long shift.

The next time you see Woo is, surprisingly, not at an ungodly hour in the shelter. 

Well, it’s still at an ungodly hour, but the change in venue is a little baffling. You were up all night studying (read: cramming) for a major exam that you’ll take at eight in the morning the next day. When you were finally at your wit’s end, you decidedly hauled yourself away from your laptop and fluttered off to the only twenty four-hour coffee shop in the neighborhood. 

You don’t usually frequent this place because you’ve tasted their shitty americanos firsthand, but you’re not in the mood to grind some beans yourself and you’re much too stubborn to drink anything instant—convinced the powdered concoction would only make you sleepier.

So here you are, in line for an espresso because you’ve decided to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe not everything on the menu tastes less than it’s worth. With how many other students are pulling all-nighters here, that should be testament enough that they tolerate the place’s drinks enough to linger. 

But, to your horror, when you’re right in front of the graveyard shift barista, he informs you that wireless payments have been temporarily disabled and that they’re only accepting cash up front. You make a show of patting down the pockets of your hoodie to check for your wallet even if you know damn well that you left it back at your apartment on purpose. Just when you’re about to resign yourself to buying shitty instant coffee at a Seven Eleven instead, the person behind you in line clears his throat. 

“Uh, I can pay for her drink.” 

You don’t think you’ve ever whipped your head around to check for a person’s identity faster than you did at that moment. It’s not that you’re particularly obsessed with the low timber of his voice or anything, but you’d recognize the way the shelter’s late night regular speaks in a goddamn heartbeat.

“Woo?” you scowl as he maneuvers himself to the front of the line, bringing out that same Louis Vuitton wallet you were ogling the last time you saw him. 

He pulls out a few banknotes and places them on top of the counter with what you think is a smile behind his mask. “Couple that with four iced americanos please.”

You purposely hold your tongue about your personal vendetta against that particular drink as the barista nods, punching in Woo’s order and asking for a name. Just when you thought he’d say the same one he’d given when you’d asked, however—

“Soonyoung. Oh, and I’ll get those drinks to go, please.” 

Your gaze is on him the entire time as the two of you shuffle to the end of the counter to wait for your drinks. Woo is doing a pretty okay job at playing it cool despite the fact that he lied about the names on his orders. Or maybe he lied when he told you his name was Woo. 

Either way, does it matter? It’s not strange for people to make up fake names for baristas to write on their coffees—Mina does it all the time. But something about the idea that the man standing in front of you doesn’t look like a Soonyoung bothers you more than it should. It makes you wonder what his actual name is and if it’s weird to ask when he already gave you one to address him with—

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he suddenly says and you nearly have a heart attack.

“Uh,” you start somewhat dumbly, before finally getting a hold of your brain. “I live around the area. Thought I could use a drink if I didn’t want to sleep through my lecture notes.”

He lets out a low chuckle and at that moment, you let yourself observe him a little more closely. His hair is hidden behind a black beanie which he expertly paired with an equally black parka that’s zipped up all the way. He’s wearing a different pair of glasses today—one with thick, black frames—and you’re starting to get an idea of what his favorite color might be.

“Is that why I haven’t seen you at the shelter these days?” he wonders. “Every time I dropped by last week, you weren’t on shift.”

Oh. Shit, he’s been visiting still? And he was looking for you?

“Yup, I needed to take a few days off because if I wanna graduate, I’ve got to keep myself from failing any of my majors,” you explain as briefly as you can—not wanting to go into detail about GPA requirements and your thesis. “How about you? Why’re you out and about at this hour, Soonyoung?”

It’s kind of adorable, how the tips of his ears flush pink at your words. “Soonyoung’s one of my friends. I actually went out tonight because I lost a bet and had to buy four of us coffee.”

You’re not sure how and why you feel a wave of relief wash over you, so instead, you brush the feeling aside before leaning against the counter. “Lost a bet about what, pray tell?”

Woo is quiet for a while, as if contemplating if he should unveil his losses to someone who’s virtually still a stranger before letting out a defeated sigh.

“Mario Kart.”

The snort you let out draws a few curious stares from other customers sitting near the counter and you force out an apology that’s underscored with a hiccup of laughter. Woo doesn’t seem at all offended by your reaction though. In fact, he seems even amused by it.

Not ten seconds later, the barista calls out his—rather, Soonyoung’s name and he hands you your drink while he carries a takeout package in his other hand. You try not to think too much about the way his fingers brush against yours when he gives it to you, thanking him despite the obvious redness settling across your cheeks.

“I actually meant to text you last week but I didn’t know if you were comfortable with it,” Woo admits as he opens the door to the coffee shop for you—thanking him as you step out of the air conditioned space and into the humid evening air. “I wanted to ask about the adoption requirements at the shelter.”

Part of you is a little skeptical about his explanation because… If he’s been dropping by your workplace as often as he claimed last week, then he could’ve just asked the other staff about the details. Why wait until he meets you again to bring it up? 

But of course, you’re way too polite to ask that to his face.

“I don’t mind you texting me about that or…anything, really,” you say, turning up the flap on the lid of your espresso before taking a small sip. Bearable. “It’s not like I’m too busy to respond to you. Well, I kinda am, but I can spare a few minutes.”

Woo nods with a soft laugh. “Okay. I’ll just get into detail via text later. I gotta bring these coffees back or they’ll chew me out for the rest of the night for being late. Oh, but do you need someone to walk home with you?”

The idea of having your not-work crush escorting you home flusters you more than it should and when you take another sip of your drink, it nearly goes down the wrong hole. Woo pats your back in comforting fashion when you sputter from your coffee, tears stinging your eyes as you attempt to breathe like a normal person. Fuck, you must look so fucking weird right now.

“I-I, um, sorry about that.” You cough into your fist, laughing uneasily as you grip your drink a little too tightly. “No, it’s fine. I only live a few blocks away.”

Now that you mention it, does that mean Woo is the same? If he’s out here in this specific neighborhood at this specific hour, that would only mean he lives in the area, or is at least staying for the meantime, right? But before you could get swept up by your own curiosity, you immediately sweep any and all ideas under the rug.

“Oh, that’s—that’s good to know.”

He sounds disappointed. Why does he sound disappointed?

“So I guess this is goodbye? ” you start. 

Woo nods briskly. “Yup. I’ll keep in touch.”

You chuckle. “That’s what you said last time.”

Whoa. Were you propositioning him or something? Sometimes, it baffles you how one minute, you’re choking on a cup of coffee—several shades embarrassed—and the next, you’re practically daring him to text you like he said he would.

“And I’ll make good on that as soon as time permits.” Woo shakes his head with a laugh. “It was nice seeing you again, though. Good luck with your exams.”

You can’t help the way your cheeks heat up yet again at the thought of him having remembered that you mentioned your exams. “Thanks. I think I need all the luck I can get.”

When Woo turns to look at you through those thick-rimmed glasses, you almost wish you could see the smile that’s undoubtedly spreading behind that pesky mask of his. 

“I’ll be happy to give it to you every time then.”

Today was probably the shittiest day of the week.

Not only did you spectacularly flunk the exam you took this morning whilst running on less than two hours of sleep, but your thesis adviser emailed you about several concerns regarding the latest version of your manuscript. Needless to say, you spent a good chunk of your day holed up in the university library, consulting new reference materials to back up your data since the ones you used were much too outdated for your adviser’s liking. 

It should’ve been something you’d consider a walk in the park, given the many revisions that have preceded this one, but it just so happens that you’ve got three more exams to worry about for the remainder of the week. Meaning, you had to squeeze in a few minutes of studying in between editing your newest draft and telling yourself that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if you got held back for one semester before graduating. 

You’ve been so caught up with your piling academic responsibilities that you’ve barely looked at your phone. You only deigned to dig it out of the deepest pit of your backpack when you got a little hungry and wondered if they still let food delivery guys past the school gates. To your surprise, you’re greeted with a few text messages that you immediately feel horrible for not replying to the moment they were delivered. 

Unknown Number [10:45]: So about those adoption requirements…

Unknown Number [11:33]: Oh. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. It’s Woo.

Ignoring the fact that you’re obviously famished, you hastily type in a response after marking down Woo’s number with a black cat emoji right next to his name. It takes a moment because you’re so shaky, you end up suffering from a few typos here and there.

Me [13:10]: hey! sorry i was a bit busy and i just saw these…

Me [13:10]: what do you wanna know? i’m on a self-imposed lunch break rn

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:15]: No worries, I figured you got a long day ahead. Hope lunch is good at least.

Me [13:16]: actually, i haven’t ordered anything yet ‘cause time got away from me but Anyways

Me [13:16]: you wanted details abt the adoption process?

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:18]: What? You haven't eaten yet?

Me [13:18]: yeah, but it’s no big deal. i could just have some food delivered.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:19]: Well, I’m out right now. I could just buy some food for you and drop it off. 

Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets when you read each word of Woo’s text message. Is he being serious right now? The guy just paid for your coffee last night—a coffee that you forgot to pay back because of how surprising the circumstances were. Now he’s offering to buy you lunch?

Me [13:20]: you really don’t have to, i swear!! i’ve still got a few discount vouchers in baenim

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:22]: I insist. I’ve got my bike with me anyway.

Me [13:22]: bike? like, a bicycle?

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:23]: Mmm. Close. Anyway, what food do you want? 

Now what the hell does that mean?

Part of you feels like you should be freaked out with how…kind he’s being to you. The world is full of weirdos who play the nice guy just to do something despicable to you in the end. Yet another part of you—a less reasonable one, admittedly—insists that Woo is nothing like that, despite the fact that you barely know the guy. 

Then again, you’re tired, stressed out, and barely slept a wink last night. If the hot guy you’ve been quote-unquote crushing on is offering to buy you food, where’s the harm in accepting?

Me [13:25]: fine. i could use some yangnyeom chicken and tteokbokki. 

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:26]: Nice. I know a good place. 

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:27]: I’ll head out in a few, so just text me the address.

Right after sending your university’s pin location to Woo, you start to consider the chance of him being some sort of serial stalker. Could he be biding his time, trying to let your guard down and easing personal information out of you so he could do something nefarious when he gets you alone? Fuck. Maybe it’s a good idea you didn’t let him walk you home yesterday…

But despite the very real possibility of Woo being someone with bad intentions regardless of how nice he is, you see no problem in meeting him at the school gates when he arrives with your food. In fact, you don’t even feel apprehensive of him in spite of all the ideas you conjured in your head over the past hour.  

Me [14:15]: where are you?

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [14:16]: Parked by the curb in front of a bookstore. You can’t miss me.

 Me [14:16]: i don’t even know what you Look like today, genius

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [14:17]: I told you, I’ve got my bike with me. I don’t see anyone else looking the same way within a twenty meter radius. 

You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. For someone you deemed as ‘nice’, he can get pretty mouthy if he wants to. 

You head to the general direction of the bookstore that Woo was talking about as you try to ignore your growling stomach. Given that the lunch rush is more or less over, the usual crowd of pedestrians has considerably thinned out and it makes it easier for you to scan the vicinity for any bike-wielding impromptu delivery guys. 

However, the only person that does stand out to you is some dude wearing a black leather jacket, chilling next to an expensive looking motorcycle as he taps away on his phone with a matching pair of leather gloves and everything. His face is obscured by a black helmet and you would’ve let your gaze go past him had it not been for a sudden realization that hits you right there.

Bike? Like, a bicycle?

Mmm. Close.

“Woo!” 

Of course the leather jacket-clad, expensive motorcycle-wielding man looks up at the sound of his name being called from across the street. The visor of his helmet is drawn all the way up and you could see that he isn’t wearing his glasses for good reason. He seems to perk up at the sight of you before grabbing something from the trunk of his motorcycle and jogging to meet you where you stood.

You’ve seen him sporting a spectrum of comfortable outfits during his late night visits, but this is the first time you’ve witnessed Woo looking as dapper as he is now.

“Late lunch delivery?” 

You don’t even try to hide the way you roll your eyes as you accept the paper bag he hands to you. “Thanks. How much do I owe you now? You already got me coffee and now lunch.”

He shakes his head and you find it a little ridiculous, considering he’s still wearing that huge helmet of his. “It’s on me. It’s the least I could do to repay you for being so accommodating.”

“Woo, I haven’t done shit for you ‘cause you’re yet to properly talk to me about the adoption process. What on earth are you talking about?” 

“But you will do shit for me when we do talk about it. I’m just repaying the favor in advance,” he rebuts cheekily before pulling back the sleeve of his jacket to check for the time. “Though as much as I want to do that now, I need to catch a flight in a few hours.”

That makes your expression morph into disbelief. “You need to catch a what?”

“A flight. Gotta head to Japan for a few days,” Woo tells you nonchalantly, as if heading to Japan for a few days is something people do on a regular basis. “Can you make sure no one else takes Hani home before I can settle everything on my end?”

You tell yourself that you’ve got time to mull over what this guy does for a living some other time. Clearing your throat, you manage an awkward smile. “Um, yeah, sure thing. You’re really attached to her, aren’t you?” 

“You can say that again,” he laughs softly. “She kinda reminds me of myself from a long time ago… But anyway, I’ve gotta go. Tell me what you think about the chicken when you’re done with it?”

You nod. “I’ll be as brutally honest with my review as possible.”

“Just the way I like it,” Woo replies, eyes crinkling with amusement.

When you head back to the library, the person you were sharing a table with looked after your stuff for you while you were gone. You thank her profusely before settling back into your seat, grabbing the takeout packages from the paper bag that Woo personally delivered to you. 

Before you can start wolfing down the delectable-smelling chicken he brought, however, you notice a cute sticky note plastered on the lid—a doodle of a cat with glasses and a speech bubble that says you can do it~ scribbled on the corner.

Don’t overwork yourself. It’s been ages since my last exam, but I know how hard it can be. Make sure to eat properly so you can absorb all the info you need.

When your head bangs against one of the many wooden tables in the library, the person seated at the far end stares at you with a concerned look. You can’t muster the energy to assure her that everything’s alright, though because…

That quote-unquote crush of yours? 

It’s starting to become a little too real.

You’re in the middle of throwing out old files from the back room archive when Mina peeks her head into the doorway and says, “You’ve got a visitor again.”

One glance at the old wall clock hung above the steel cabinets tells you that it’s midnight, but you know for one that this mystery visitor isn’t Woo this time around. 

You’ve been keeping in touch with him through Kakao, since you can’t exactly afford to send international text messages to Japan and your new friend(?) has been keeping you posted about his shenanigans for the past week. He hasn’t replied to your last message from over three hours ago and you’re not so delusional to think he got on a plane back to Korea and is suddenly here to surprise you.

When you see who it is, though, your heart warms just a little.

“Why haven’t you been texting me back?” Haewon, your sister who’s two years younger, gets up from the seats lined up across the walls of the lobby. “I missed you!” 

You shake your head before pulling her into a hug. “I missed you, she says. But you’re really just looking for someone to show you around the city again, aren’t you?”

“Hey, missing you and needing a chaperone aren’t mutually exclusive,” she huffs and you notice that she’s in full fangirl gear again—a lightstick hanging off a strap slung across her shoulder, a windbreaker with her favorite boyband’s logo sewn on the front pocket, and of course, a photocard of Mingyu dangling from her little handbag.

Despite the fact that she’s also in college, Haewon chose to stay in your hometown in Jeju to pursue her studies there instead. The first few months since you left were the hardest—so unused to not having your little sister go on and on and on about how much she loves SEVENTEEN. But you’ve also come to appreciate the peace and quiet that living alone in Seoul affords you. 

Besides, with how much money she’s raised for being one of the more well-known event organizers in her fandom, Haewon can pretty much come visit you in Seoul whenever she feels like it. 

“I’m guessing your thirteen boyfriends have a thing going on?” you ask before glancing over at the playroom to make sure there aren’t any kittens left inside. 

Haewon nods enthusiastically. “Yup, they’re having a mini fanmeet outside their company building in a few days—”

“In a few days?” you parrot before gesturing for her to follow you in the break room so you can get changed. “What’re you doing out here all dressed up then?”

Your little sister rolls her eyes. “Unnie, I’m not some weirdo who wears their merch on a regular night for no reason. I came from this little cupsleeve event for Wonwoo’s birthday. Things ran a little late because we had to help clean up at the café.” 

While you’re not well-versed in fandom jargon, you have learned a few terms from Haewon here and there. Plus, she already took you to a cupsleeve event for another member’s birthday once. You’re not really sure who it was because the only one you do consistently remember is Mingyu—your sister’s ultimate bias, apparently. 

“What made you stop by then?” you wonder as you exchanged your work uniform for a loose shirt. “You didn’t tell me you were coming in advance. I could’ve fetched you from the airport.”

“I did tell you in advance.” She pouts. “But you said you were busy working on your manuscript when I did, so it must’ve slipped your mind.”

Oh. Okay, now you feel bad. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you this weekend with dinner?” 

Haewon whines. “Unnie, their fanmeet is on Saturday and I leave on Sunday.”

“So? How long is that going to be anyway?”

“Uh, all day?”

You sigh. “Fine. How about you crash in my place tonight and we can rewatch Hometown Cha Cha Cha while stuffing our faces with ramen?”

“Deal.”

After timing out for the evening, you say goodbye to Mina, who’s just waiting up for your other coworkers who’ll cover the next shift. Haewon talks your ear off about what happened in the event she attended as you both walked back to your apartment and, while only some of the things she’s saying makes sense to you, it’s nice to be in your little sister’s company again. 

“Oh, by the way, here.”

You stare at her curiously as she rummages through her bag, handing you a photocard enclosed in a dainty-looking toploader. 

“What’s this for?” you ask. 

“You told me back then that Wonwoo was your type,” Haewon explains with a grin. “So I did my best in one of the parlor games and won that extremely in-demand photocard just for you.”

You scan the piece of idol merchandise in your hands for a few minutes more—staring at Wonwoo’s face as if waiting for him to speak. You never really understood the appeal of collecting photocards. As long as it makes Haewon happy, you won’t bat an eyelash.

But now she’s giving you one to keep for yourself and the more you stare at the idol printed on the sturdy paper, the more you think that you’ve seen him somewhere.

Then again, Haewon has been talking about these boys since they debuted years ago. The familiarity must’ve stemmed from those numerous fancams and music show performances that she forced you to sit down and watch with her. 

“You better take care of him, okay?” Haewon pouts. “If I see him suddenly being sold for a high price, I’m never going to let you live it down.”

“I barely know how the market for this works, so you don’t have to worry about that,” you chuckle before carefully sliding the toploader inside your own bag. “So what ramen are we eating? Shin Ramyun or something else?”

Me [21:17]: btw, when are you coming back again? 

Me [21:20]: someone was asking about hani earlier and i feel like you’ve gotta come back here to assert your dominance.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: Shit, sorry. I forgot about the time.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: My friends and I had a birthday celebration at the izakaya near our hotel. It’s been a while since we got to unwind like this.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:36]: Anyway, who’s the funny guy who thought he could have my cat?

Me [02:38]: wow. YOUR cat? 🤨🤨🤨

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:40]: You’re still awake?

Me [02:40]: yeah, my little sister is in seoul and we’re binging our favorite drama

Me [02:41]: how about you? why are You still awake?

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:45]: Taking care of drunk friends. Remember Soonyoung?

Me [02:45]: what about him?

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:47]: Pleading for forgiveness in the toilet while he retches his guts out.

Me [02:47]: huh. some birthday party. who’s the celebrant anyway?

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:47]: Me.

“Whoa. You okay?” Haewon asks when you suddenly lurch forward on the couch, choking on the ramen you were in the middle of slurping. 

You thank your sister when she offers you a glass of water and you gulp it down to soothe the burning sensation in your throat. “It’s fine. I just received a surprising text is all.”

“From a boyfriend?” she teases.

You scowl. “No. From a friend. Just a friend.”

“Boo. But you’ll tell me once you land yourself your very own Hong Dusik, right?”

The look on your face only worsens at the reference she’s made to the drama that’s still playing on screen. “I’d actually rather die than have someone like Dusik as a boyfriend. If the whole enemies to lovers thing works with Hyejin, it really won't with me.”

“True, you’ve always been a mellow lover,” Haewon agrees and you roll your eyes. “That’s why Wonwoo would be perfect for you~”

“I think me landing a Hong Dusik-esque boyfriend is more likely than me getting together with a world famous idol but okay.”

You’re momentarily distracted from your conversation when your phone vibrates in your lap again, and— Fuck. 

You forgot to reply to Woo.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:55]: Fell asleep on me already?

Me [02:56]: no, no. sorry. my sister was just talking to me. 

Me [02:56]: anyway, it’s your BIRTHDAY?

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:57]: Hahaha, yes. It’s been a while since I could sit down and actually celebrate it with my friends. 

Me [02:58]: is that why you went all the way to japan? for a little birthday getaway?

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:58]: Hm… something like that 

Me [03:00]: i’ll give you hani’s adoption papers as a gift

Me [03:01]: that or you let ME treat YOU to something nice for a change

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:05]: Well, I’ll be back in Korea this Saturday, but won’t be free until late at night.

Me [03:05]: back to regular programming, huh?

Me [03:06]: we can celebrate later if you’re busy, you know. 

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:07]: It’s okay. I wanted to spend time with you anyways.

“You sure that’s just a friend you’re talking to?” Haewon asks with an unimpressed stare as you choke on your instant noodles for the second time. “The only way I’d react like that to a text is if my friend told me one of our professors is fucking his TA despite being married. If that’s the case, you gotta let me in on the juicy details.”

You make a face at her. “Isn’t that way too specific?”

“Isn’t that way too specific?” Haewon mocks. “Whatever you’ve got going on with this friend of yours, promise I’ll be the first to know once you make it official?”

“Haewon!”

For the sake of your own sanity, you only reply to Woo’s message once you’re tucked in bed and Haewon is comfortably dozing on the couch in the living room. She’s a heavy sleeper that passes out quickly after a long day, so you don’t feel particularly worried about your little sister barging into your room when you type out a response.

Me [03:43]: gotcha. just meet me at the shelter after your thing. 

Me [03:45]: happy birthday, woo.

You don’t wait for him to type out a reply anymore—eyes drooping into slumber as you let the screen of your phone fade into sleep mode. 

Unbeknownst to you, a man who just finished putting his intoxicated friends to bed an ocean away stares at your chat history with a fond smile, heart racing just a few beats faster at the prospect of what awaits him at home.

You’re just about done cleaning up the big dog kennels when Woo drops by on a bright Saturday morning. 

The sound of his deep ‘hello’ nearly made you drop all the cleaning utensils you were about to put away. When you turn around to confirm that the shelter’s nighttime regular has indeed switched things up and decided to visit during daylight hours, you’re too busy scowling at him to mind the fact that you’re all gross and sweaty from all the hard labor. 

Sure, you texted him about taking up a day shift today, but you definitely didn’t expect him to visit when he just got back to Korea a few hours ago. 

Surprisingly, Woo isn’t donned in all black this time around. He’s wearing a gray pullover with some muddled text you can’t quite read with the hood pulled all the way up, concealing the white cap resting on top of his head. Of course, his signature face mask is still in between you and his no doubt handsome countenance, but you’ll take what you can get.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, a bit breathless before you notice that takeout bag he’s setting down on one of the empty tables. “I thought you’re not gonna be free until tonight.”

“Thought you could use another lunch fix,” he says nonchalantly. “Well that and I wanted to personally give you some cool trinkets from Japan.”

The sentiment makes your heart stir a little, but you end up voicing out a dry laugh before stuffing the shelter’s cleaning paraphernalia inside the broom closet. “Keep doing all these nice things and I’ll start thinking you’re in love with me.”

Woo laughs but does absolutely nothing to deny the allegations.

“Here.” Your brows arch a little when he fishes something from the pocket of his hoodie, handing it to you. “I wasn’t sure which one you’d like so I just got all of them.”

You’re a bit reluctant to receive his gift in your current state—dirty hands, dirty clothes, dirty everything—but Woo doesn’t seem to mind when he drops a small plastic package full of…

“Kitties!” You coo out loud at the assortment of colorful enamel pins inside before gawking at him. “Seriously, Woo, you’re way too nice to me. I’m starting to feel indebted.”

He shakes his head with an adorable laugh. “It’s nothing. I swear. They just reminded me of you when my friends and I passed this one booth at a festival.”

Shit. They reminded him of you?

“So are you finally going to sit down and talk to me about adopting Hani or are you gonna keep skirting around again, mister?” You place a hand on your hip, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction as you tuck his gift safely in the back pocket of your jeans.

“Surprise, I actually came here to do just that. I still have an hour free before I have to go to work,” Woo admits and him mentioning work taps in on your innate curiosity about what he does for a living. “But your coworker said something about rounding up the dogs and putting them back in the kennel?”

Oh. Shit. 

As if on cue, Mina—along with a few on shift volunteers—emerge down the hall, all of their hands gripping several leashes as an army of dogs fills the hallway with excited and agitated barking alike. 

“Are we good to go?” Mina yells over the noise.

Trying not to look too disappointed that your time with Woo has been cut short, you give Mina a thumbs up before striding off to meet them halfway. You take it upon yourself to take a few of the dogs off one of the volunteers’ hands and he looks at you with withering relief when you do. 

“Yep. Everything’s as fresh as a daisy now,” you inform them. “Hope these guys didn’t make too big of a mess up in the front though. That would mean Kino’s turn for cleaning duty came a little early.”

“Hey!” The volunteer in question complains. “I’ve got a date later, noona. Don’t go saying weird stuff like that.”

You’re just about to tease him a little more but you suddenly feel the force of a couple of former strays tugging you forward disappear. That’s when you notice that Woo made his way to your side, guiding the dogs silently as he helps lead the first of them to the kennel.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insist but your friend(?) merely shakes his head. 

“It’s no big deal,” Woo reassures.

It doesn’t help that this particular hallway is a little cramped. You’re practically standing arm to arm as you all make it to the end. You can practically smell the expensive cologne wafting from his clothes amidst the scent of dog fur that’s starting to permeate the air. When Woo lets out another soft laugh when one of the dogs he has on a leash licks his hand, you know it’s over for you.

It takes about half an hour to settle all fifteen big dogs into their respective cages and by the time it’s over, you’re convinced that you need a shower now more than ever. As Mina and the rest of the volunteers head back to the reception room, you decide to take a break and help yourself to the takeout that Woo personally delivered yet again.

“Thanks for your help. Cleaning day is really one of the toughest days of the month. Especially when we have to clean up the big dog kennels,” you sigh before plopping into an empty seat in the break room. 

“Don’t mention it,” he says and you find yourself imagining a smile behind his mask yet again. “I actually have a dog at home, too, so I would now. But she’s definitely more tame than these guys.”

That makes you pause. “Is that why you’re beating around the bush so much about adopting Hani? You think she won’t get along with your dog?”

He hums a little before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “That’s one of the reasons, yes.”

“Well, you won’t know unless you try,” you huff as you unseal the takeout package—the delectable scent of yangnyeom chicken pervading your senses. “Anyway, you’re going to sign the papers this time, right? Right?”

You have a feeling that you’ve finally got him cornered, but before Woo can even formulate a response, a ringtone that definitely isn’t yours starts going off inside the break room. 

Your friend(????) answers it with a wistful sigh. 

It’s so quiet that you can vaguely make out the voice at the other end of the line saying, “Hyung. Everyone’s looking for you. Where are you?”

You try not to stare at Woo as he takes the call out of pure decency—distracting yourself with your food. But you can’t help but listen in when their conversation is the only thing you can hear at the moment. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Tell everyone I’m sorry for the hold up, Mingyu.” 

The moment that name leaves Woo’s mouth, you freeze mid-chew. Did he say Mingyu? Like…the idol that Haewon is downright obsessed with? No… It was probably just someone with the same name. It is pretty common, after all.

When he ends the call, you flash him a tight-lipped smile that manages to conceal your momentary surprise. “Rain check?”

“Rain check,” Woo sighs in agreement. 

You nod. “It’s okay. The more you keep delaying Hani’s adoption, the more presents I get from you.”

“And you’re absolutely right about that,” he humors you before reaching out to ruffle your hair. You haven’t even recovered from that little gesture he just did when he asks, “Hope our plans for later are still up though?”

Woo must’ve caught the look on your face with the way he retracts the hand that was just on top of your head to snicker into his palm. “Don’t tell me you forgot. We were supposed to celebrate my birthday, remember?”

Curse you and your habit of making plans at ass o’clock in the morning. You always forget them!

“Uh, it kinda slipped my mind?” you admit sheepishly as you pick at your food. “I ended up going for a day shift ‘cause I have to see my sister off at the airport tomorrow.” 

He nods in earnest and it kind of makes you feel bad about your short term memory. “It’s alright. I’ll just drop by some other time to get the paperwork over with. I’ve disturbed you enough as it is.”

“No, it’s fine!”

Your sudden outburst makes Woo look up at you with a confused stare. “Hm?”

“I-I can still meet up with you later,” you stammer and you have to force yourself not to bury your face in your hands out of sheer embarrassment. Pull yourself together, damn. “If you’re not too tired from your plans for the day, of course.”

He mentioned something about having to go to work, and while you can’t imagine what sort of work has to be urgently done on a Saturday, you’ll still respect his time. 

Woo blinks for a few seconds, as if still digesting what you just said before his eyes disappear behind his glasses with a soft chuckle. Your brows cinch together, not getting what’s so funny. 

“Noted. I’ll come pick you up here later, still? If you’re not comfortable with sharing your address with me yet.” 

He’s so thoughtful, you might actually give him all your personal details at this point. But at the end of the day you’re actually a person with a head full of common sense, so you answer him with, “Sure thing. Thanks for going out of your way to come hang out despite how busy you are.”

“No, thank you for always putting up with me,” Woo insists with a shake of his head. “I swear I’m not hassling you with this whole adoption thing on purpose. There’s just…a lot of things to consider on my end. I hope you understand.”

You wave away his concerns with a laugh. “Just keep getting me more of this chicken and we’ll call it quits.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

When Woo sees himself out of the break room, you fumble for the plastic package in the back of your jeans—taking one of the adorable black cat enamels before pinning it in the front pocket of your uniform. You can’t help the smile that creeps up your face when you see your reflection on the small mirror sitting on the table. 

How could you be this down bad for someone whose entire face you’ve never even seen before? 

Haewon 🪷 [17:20]: Are you suuure you don’t wanna come to the fan meet?

Haewon 🪷 [17:21]: I’ve still got a few extra passes :3c you’d get to see wonwoo in the flesh!

Me  [17:30]: why do you want to set me up with wonwoo so badly 

Haewon 🪷 [17:31]: Bc we’re sisters? And it’d be cool if we stanned MinWon together?

Me  [17:32]: …not even gonna ask you to elaborate on that

Haewon 🪷 [18:00]: Unnie ㅠㅠ

Me [18:00]: why? what’s wrong, hae?

Haewon 🪷[ 18:05]: Mingyu looks sooooo much better than I remember

Haewon 🪷[18:06]: The girlfriend allegations must be true

Haewon 🪷 [18:06]: Only a man in love can smile like that!

Me [18:07]: or: a man who relies on fanservice to get paid?

Haewon 🪷[ 18:08]: RUDE!!!!

Haewon 🪷 [18:08]: Here’s a pic of Wonwoo to shut you up

Haewon 🪷 [18:09]: [Sent an attachment]

Me [18:10]: idk if i should find the fact that you think some kpop guy affects me in any capacity amusing or concerning

Haewon 🪷 [18:11]: !!!! Take that back wtf?? Wonwoo isn’t just ‘some kpop guy’?????

Me [18:10]: sure he isn’t.

Haewon 🪷 [19:45]: Good news!!

Me [19:45]: you’re finally going to get off my back about the whole wonwoo thing?

Haewon 🪷 [19:46]: No ^_^ My Monday final got canceled so I can stay in Seoul for a day more!

Haewon 🪷 [19:46]: Aka you don’t have to wake up early to drag your ass to the airport w me

Me [19:47]: oh. that’s cool. what’re your plans for tomorrow then?

Haewon 🪷 [19:48]: Gonna attend the pre-recording for a music show :3

Me [19:50]: …Haewon i swear to god if you ask me to do what you’re about to ask me to do

Haewon 🪷 [19:50]: Come with me pretty pleaaaase?

Haewon 🪷 [19:51]: I’m using my adorable dongsaeng powers to get you to agree

Me [19:55]: there’s no talking my way out of this, is there?

Haewon 🪷 [19:55]: Nope <3

Me [19:56]: fine. just text me the details. i need to go out soon. 

Haewon 🪷 [19:56]: HEHE have fun !!

You weren’t lying when you texted Haewon that you had to go out soon. You agreed that you’d meet up with Woo for his post-birthday celebration at 9 P.M. Hell, you even called a local bakery to have a personalized cake made for pick-up before you head over to the rendezvous point. Everything was already set right from the start.

But then you ended up falling asleep while scrolling through Twitter and now the clock reads 10:45 P.M., and you’re rushing to pull on a ratty sweater instead of the cute outfit you planned for the night as you rush out of your apartment.

Me [10:47]: FUCK IM SORRY

Me [10:47]: i was SUPPOSED to take a five minute nap but i didn’t realize how tired i was

Me [10:48]: are you still up to hang out? i totally get it if not though.

You immediately stuff your phone in the pocket of your jeans—not even bothering to glance at Woo’s reply when it vibrates with a text notification. Your conscience is much too guild-ridden to read any sort of reassurance he’d undoubtedly give to you despite how long you’ve made him wait. 

Two hours, jeez. You’d be furious if someone was that late on you.

When you arrive at the shelter after doing a couple of quick detours, you’re panting like you just won first place in a marathon. Needless to say, it’s a pitiful sight to behold when Woo is leaning across his motorcycle—looking much too attractive in that stupid leather jacket of his. 

“Is this what the kids call fashionably late these days?” he chuckles.

If you weren’t so apologetic, you would’ve rolled your eyes so instead, you give him a crumpled paper bag with a smile that borders on overcompensating.

“Happy birthday?”

Woo looks like he was just about to say something until a quiet mewl interrupts him midway. You gaze at him with a puzzled look until he stifles a soft laugh, pulling the lapel of his jacket open to reveal—

“Hani?” You scowl.

The black kitten is tucked away snugly in the inner pocket of Woo’s jacket—nearly blending in with the leather. It’s almost as if two pairs of big yellow eyes are staring at you from a void. 

“Finally got the papers over with when you fell asleep on me,” Woo chuckles before scratching behind her ears. “So I guess it wasn’t so bad that you made me wait for two hours.” 

“Hey, I said I was sorry!”

“Yes, and I heard you,” he insists before peering inside the paper bag you gave him. “What’s this?”

“No peeking until we get to your good old thinking spot,” you scold, smacking his hand away. 

A hand that you just noticed is also clad in a leather glove. 

He shakes his head playfully before putting his arms up in surrender. “For someone who’s two hours late, you’re pretty demanding.”

“Woo!”

During his last few days in Japan, Woo told you about his favorite thinking spot that’s specifically located beneath Hannam Bridge. There’s an old watchtower that was built before the bridge even existed. I go there when I want to clear my head. 

When he said he wanted to bring you there for his belated birthday bash, the ghastly possibility of him turning out to be a serial killer luring you to your doom crossed your mind for half a second before you ended up agreeing anyway.

Now here you are, drowning in the musk of his cologne as you press your cheek against the fabric of his jacket. He’s definitely going past the speed limit with how sharply the wind sings in your ears, but instead of complaining about it, you tighten your arms around his torso—letting the warmth of his body seep into yours. 

“It’s not so scary if you don’t think about it too much,” you hear him shout from the front. “Look to your right! This is why I’ve always liked doing late night rides!”

Easy for him to say. He’s brave enough to harbor a kitten inside his jacket and a person who’s never ridden a motorcycle before at a hundred kilometers per hour! But despite how terrified you are of falling off his bike, you do as he says anyways.

When you tilt your gaze in the direction of the Han River, you’re immediately greeted by the dazzling lights that glimmer across the water. You haven’t been to the districts on the other side of the river, but you think you’re content with getting to see them from afar.

With the roar of an engine ringing in your ears. With the summer evening breeze whipping past your face.

With your arms around someone who’s slowly but surely leaving his mark in your life. 

“Are you sure this is legal?”

Your companion glances behind him as he makes his way to the aforementioned watch tower—a knapsack full of god-knows-what slung around his shoulder while he carries the paper bag with your “gift” in his free hand. “I’ve never seen a single ‘No Trespassing' sign since I’ve started going here ages ago, so probably.”

“Probably?” you parrot and Hani, who you’ve deigned to carry in your arms after that grueling motorcycle ride, meows as if she’s just as incredulous as you are. “So it’s still possible for us to get arrested?”

“Yeah, but what’s life without a little risk?” 

Unbelievable.

Yet, despite the common sense you were oh-so proud of this morning, you still follow him up the winding steps of the watchtower, which is hardly even a watchtower given that it’s a few meters beneath the widest bridge in the city. Woo wasn’t lying about his strange description of it after all.

“Well, here we are,” he announces when the two of you reach the platform on the very top. The edges are lined with metal rails that are beginning to rust with age, but seem sturdy enough to grant you some sense of security—no matter how sparse. “I’ll just set this up. You can go enjoy the view if you want.”

Woo doesn’t even let you get a word in before he unzips his bag and brings out a checkered picnic blanket. He gently lays it across the dusty concrete, smoothing out the fabric before fishing some more stuff inside his gym-bag-turned-picnic-basket. You keep yourself from making any snide comments about his choice of venue because despite the unorthodox location, you actually get why he’d find it peaceful here.

It’s far enough from the freeway that the sound of vehicles rushing through the night can barely reach your ears. If you listen closely enough, you can even hear the water flowing below much more clearly. You close your eyes to get a better feel of the place—imagining a six-foot something guy leaning across the rusty railings as he watches the city lights sparkle across the Han River.

“There we go.” 

You startle when you feel Woo’s warm, leather-clad hand on your shoulder—prompting you to turn around and see his handiwork. In the middle of the picnic blanket is something that looks suspiciously like a portable emergency light. How he got his hands on something like that, you’re not entirely sure, so you decide to focus on the other details instead. 

Like the two unopened bottles of soju right next to a take-out package of your favorite yangnyeom chicken. 

“Didn’t we agree that I was treating you to something this time around?” you grumble as you absentmindedly stroke Hani’s fur. 

“We did, but then you overslept and—”

“Okay, fine! Point taken!”

Woo snickers as he hands you the paper bag you brought for the trip. It looks even worse than it was when you ran all the way to the shelter and you can only hope the package inside isn’t completely ruined. 

You decide to let Hani down inside the gym bag that Woo left unzipped. Surprisingly, the newly adopted kitten makes a home out of it quickly—curling up into a ball as her tail swishes every now and again. Cute.

“Don’t judge, okay?” You breathe out nervously as you take the plastic container out of the bag. “I had a legit cake custom-made and everything but…yeah. Overslept.”

When Woo doesn’t respond a second too long, your gaze nervously rivets to his face to parse for a reaction. Was he disappointed? Should you have gotten a different design?

The moment you see the dazzled look in his eyes, however, you realize that isn’t the case.

He receives the little cupcake with open arms when you give it to him. It’s chocolate topped with bad fondant icing art, but you didn’t really have a choice. When you spotted it in the convenience store earlier, you grabbed the one that looked most like a kitten and dipped. It’s nice to know that he might actually like it after all.

“Oh and uh, sorry, but I couldn’t bring any candles for you to blow,” you add sheepishly. “You can just make a wish and pretend.” 

Woo’s gaze drifts to you for a moment before his eyes crinkle with laughter. “I don’t really have to do that though. My wish has already come true.”

Huh?

To your chagrin, he doesn’t elaborate. Instead, Woo invites you to sit on the picnic blanket—carefully removing his boots so he wouldn’t track dirt all over the food and you follow suit. 

You fill the silence with your goings-on for the rest of the day and how exactly you ended up dozing off and he’s kind enough to listen to every word. However, when you ask if he wants to do a toast, he shakes his head.

“I need to drive you back, remember?” 

You shoot him a dirty look. “So you took me all the way out here just so I can have two bottles of soju all to myself while you sit there and listen to me talk about my day?”

“...Yes?”

Men are so fucking infuriating sometimes, you can hardly believe it.

“Nope.” You firmly shake your head—plucking the bottle opener he set down on the blanket to pop the caps off. “You’re drinking with me. Just quit driving past the speed limit so we won’t die in a freak accident.” 

You immediately notice the stiffness in his shoulders as you shove the bottle of soju in his hands and part of you feels kind of bad for being pushy. For a moment, you allow yourself to scrutinize him for a bit longer. What could possibly be deterring him from drinking after going out of his way to do all this? 

That’s when you realize he still has his mask on.

Does he…have issues about people seeing his face?

That would definitely explain why he hasn’t once taken it off in all the times you’ve met him so far. With that in mind, you promptly decide to tell him that okay, he doesn’t have to if he really doesn’t want to, but then Woo is already reaching up to peel the blasted face mask off. 

Your chest seizes with panic, hands flying in front of you to keep him from doing something against his will. But the effort is futile because it only takes a second for him to remove and… 

Fuck.

Cue the choir of angels because goddamn does this man look like heaven.

Woo shifts somewhat uncomfortably under your stare, as if he’s waiting for you to blow up all over his face or something. But you’re much too mesmerized by too many things to form any sort of response right away. 

The sharp cut of his jaw. The gentle curve of his Cupid’s bow. The tinge of red spreading across his cheeks.

“I can’t believe you’ve been gatekeeping yourself from me all this time,” you whisper with a strained laugh—purposely peeling your gaze away for the sake of your own sanity. “I knew you were hot, but…God. I hate you.”

“You…don’t recognize me?” 

The question brings you out of your feelings for a moment, making you glance at him with a questioning stare. “Am I supposed to?”

Woo gapes at the question like he didn’t expect that to be your response before shaking his head vigorously. 

“N-No. Anyway, you said I was hot but you hate me?”

You narrow your eyes at him before taking your first swig of soju. “Don’t start getting all cocky with me, mister! I’ve got eyes and I can’t help that you’re objectively attractive. Just stating facts here.”

When Woo smiles for the first time without the figurative cockblock that is his signature black face mask and honestly? If you died right now, you’d die happily. 

The night presses on in a haze of soju, spicy chicken, and the occasional visit from Hani who uses either of your laps as her personal bed for about five minutes before switching to the other person. 

This is the longest you’ve been with Woo and you’re starting to realize that he isn’t much of a talker, which you completely understand. You can’t imagine someone who’s hell-bent on keeping what he looks like a secret for so long being a chatterbox.

“Oh, but you mentioned something to me at the shelter one time,” you pipe up before scooping a forkful of chicken into your mouth. 

“Yeah? What is it?” Woo asks softly as he pets Hani’s back. 

Feeling just a little bit tipsy from the alcohol, you try not to stare too hard at his handsome face or the way his lip curls at the edges with a tiny smile when Hani purrs from his touch.

“You said Hani reminded you of yourself from before,” you whisper as your gaze drifts to his leather-gloved hands. “Is it okay to ask what you meant by that?”

The sound of the river flowing beneath the watchtower fills your ears as you bask in the silence. It’s a pretty personal question. You’d totally get it if he decides not to answer, but you’re much too curious to keep yourself from asking. 

“Well, I wasn’t a stray or anything, but there was a time in my life that I felt so…aimless. I lost someone near and dear to me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it for a very long time.”

Hearing the earnest ring of Woo’s voice, you force yourself to snap out of your subtle inebriation—scooting a little bit closer to him on the blanket to make sure you catch every word. 

“I didn’t get into a life-threatening accident like this one did either, but…” He trails off for a moment, stroking the scar that you know runs along Hani’s sternum but has long healed with his fingers. 

“I managed to get back on track when the people around me showed me their support. They didn’t leave even if all I wanted was to be left alone. If it weren’t for them, it might’ve taken me even longer to move past what happened. Worse, I might not have moved past it at all.

“When I saw Hani that day, she looked scared of all the other cats. Like she wasn’t ready to let anyone get close to her just yet.” Woo breathes deeply before taking a small sip from his bottle. “I guess I was the same way, too. Healing isn’t linear. Sometimes, when I think I’m all better, one day, I just spiral back to where I started in the next one. That’s…kind of where you fit into the picture, actually.”

The brief pause in his story makes you blink at him, surprised. “Me?”

He nods. “You used to feed the strays in your neighborhood, right? You even had a schedule and everything.”

“That was months ago,” you mutter. “You mean you already knew me back then? Because of that?”

“I…actually live in that area, too.” He clears his throat, that familiar blush settling across his cheeks once again. “I often saw you feeding the strays because that’s usually the time I got back from the cemetery. One day, things got a bit too much and I kind of…broke down in the park instead of just doing that at home.”

He says it like he’s embarrassed and now that he mentioned it, you vaguely remember consoling a stranger during your days before volunteering at the shelter. You don’t recall much of it though—just the memory of awkwardly patting his back before sending him off feeling just a bit better because you saw him smile a little.

Other than that, you’re drawing blanks.

“How exactly did I help you, though? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“I wouldn’t say you helped me or anything, but…” Woo pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose while slyly avoiding your eyes. “I distinctly remember you saying something like—”

Hey, it’s just a bad day. Or a bad week. Or a bad month. I don’t know. But it’s not a bad life. It’ll get better soon. I promise.

Fuck. Maybe you do remember.

“It didn’t really mean much to me at the time. Honestly, it kind of pissed me off at first,” Woo admits with a guilty chuckle before taking another sip. “But you were right. Sometimes, things got worse. Other times, it got better. But one day, I realized that I got to a point where it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.

“I’m not usually this open about my problems, but I learned overtime that talking about them makes them less taxing to deal with. Almost like I’m just talking about the weather, you know?” He smiles softly and you swear your heart melts at the sight of it. “And…I also don’t want to be closed off from others anymore. Back then, I mostly just kept everything to myself—bottling it all up until it was just unbearable.” 

“Now you’re here spilling your guts out to some random college senior,” you snicker before taking another swig of your soju. You pout when you realize the bottle’s all empty before placing it back on the picnic blanket. “That’s some character development.”

“It really is.”

The silence sets once more and your eyes wander off to the city so close yet so far away. The lights from the skyscrapers glimmer like stars across the calm waters of the Han River and you like to think it compensates for the fact that the sky is blocked out by the bridge stretched far and wide above you. 

This isn’t how you imagined your first stargazing date would be like, but it’s a good start.

Although, the moment the idea crosses your mind, you’re quick to jolt at your own thoughts. 

This isn’t a date. You’re just celebrating his birthday together. Alone. On a picnic blanket. With one of the loveliest sceneries you’ve laid your eyes on. In a place where he claims that he never once showed to anyone else. 

“Hey, is this—”

Your breath hitches in your throat when you turn to look at Woo—only to find his face mere inches from yours. 

“What?” he whispers and despite the fact that you’re wearing a sweater, you feel goosebumps rise across the skin of your shoulders. 

“Uh.” Fuck. “Is this a date?”

His mouth curves into a smile that you can’t quite get a read on. “It can be what you want it to be.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, suddenly feeling hot all over as his eyes flicker to your lips. “Just so you know, I don’t kiss on the first date.”

When Woo laughs again, it’s a deep-seated noise that makes your insides tingle with an indescribable feeling. You don’t really want to give it a name.

“Okay,” he repeats before pressing his forehead against yours. “We can have our first date next time then.”

Of course the sly fucker dives in for a kiss anyway.

“H-Hey,” you whisper in between, trying not to get too distracted with how plump his lips are as you keep holding him still by his broad shoulders. “You’re going to end up crushing Hani if you d-don’t cut it out!”

Woo sighs against your lips before pulling away regretfully. For a moment, he stares at the sleepy kitten on his lap, gazing around cluelessly after being roused from slumber. His expression softens for a moment as he scoops her up with both hands, settling her down in the comfort of his gym bag. She lets out a satisfied mewl before curling into a ball once more.

“Better?” 

You’re not sure if he’s asking you or the cat, but…

“Better,” you whisper before fisting the lapels of his jacket and crushing your lips with his.

You don’t know where you’re pulling all this pent-up frustration from. During the very brief period that you’ve gotten closer to Woo, your general opinion about him never really deviated from he’s cute and he’s hot. Nothing more, nothing less.

Yet here you are, gasping into his mouth as he flattens his tongue against yours. A strong arm hooks around your waist, pressing your bodies infinitesimally closer and your skin is slowly hitting a fever pitch beneath your clothes. Something wild and all-consuming burns in your veins and you channel it into a moan that makes his grip on you grow tighter. 

You don’t know how exactly you wound up on top of his lap—knees planted on either side of his hips as he continues devouring you with no intention of leaving anything behind. You can feel the expensive material of his leather gloves when his fingers graze along the hem of your sweater. Your skin tingles like every nerve ending has been set alight and if you weren’t already rendered dizzy by his intoxicating cologne, you’re in for a ride with each second his touch hikes further up your torso.

Woo sighs against your lips before pulling away momentarily—eyes aflame before he removes his fogged up glasses with one hand, tossing them somewhat carelessly on the picnic blanket. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Why was that so hot?

You’re too stunned to even draw a breath as he stares you down without the constant partition of his glasses. Has his gaze always been this sharp? Have those eyes always been transfixed on you?

“This…This wasn’t part of the plan, if you’re wondering.” Woo croons out the words huskily. Like an afterthought he only considered out of concern for you. Cute. “I swear I didn’t have any ulterior motives when—”

You giggle, before pressing a kiss on his nose. Woo’s eyes widen just a fraction.

“What made you cave then?” 

The way his Adam’s apple bobs has no right to be that alluring, but it pulls you in anyway. “You looked really cute tonight.”

“Is that all?”

“Um, I thought it was sweet that you still got me a cupcake after you overslept?”

You groan, forehead bumping into the crook of his neck. Jesus Christ, he smells so fucking good. “How long are you going to hold that over my head for?”

You feel the vibrations of his laughter humming against your connected chests and your heart swells as Woo wraps his arms around your frame—pulling you into a firm embrace as the heat that engulfed the both of you slowly simmered into the cool evening air. You can feel him tracing idle shapes along your shoulder blades and the small of your back, and it does nothing to keep you from melting into his touch.

It’s so strange how easily you gave into him. You’ve formally known Woo for about three months and became legitimate friends(?) for less than three weeks. If you told Haewon about this whirlwind romance of yours, she’d hit you upside the head and tell you you’re being way too hasty for a man. 

But if it’s a man with a black kitten taking a nap in his gym bag while he kisses you senseless underneath one of Seoul’s busiest freeways, you suppose you can make an exception.

“We should go,” Woo murmurs softly. “You’ve still got to accompany your sister to the airport right?”

“Mmm. Nope. She’s staying a day longer,” you inform him with the same quiet tone, letting your fingers trail up to his hair so you can toy with the strands in your fingertips. “But I do have some more edits to get over with in my final manuscript, so…yeah. We should go.”

Despite wanting nothing but to stay there in Woo’s little safe haven, the two of you manage to miraculously peel yourselves away from each other. Your face is hot the entire time you helped clean up his little picnic setup. When he shuts off the portable emergency light, you squint as you parse your way through the darkness. 

You kind of end up tripping on air like a complete idiot, but before you can tumble off the rails and into the river, Woo catches you by the waist—not so different from how he held you ten minutes prior.

“Careful,” he mutters as he lets you go and you can’t help but silently mourn the loss of his touch again. “I don’t want to be accused of being a murderer.”

You snicker as he gently scoops Hani out of the gym bag and back into the spacious compartment in the lapel of his leather jacket. For a sleepy kitten, she’s surprisingly compliant. “I actually thought all this time you were some sort of serial killer trying to lure me to my doom.”

“You thought that but you came with me anyway?”

“Why not? You’re hot.”

That night, you let Woo drive you back home now that he’s more or less beaten the serial killer allegations. You tell him that he doesn’t have to walk you to your apartment, but he insists—saying that he can afford to leave Hani on his bike for a few minutes. 

Of course, it ends up with another heated makeout session against your front door. This time, those stupid leather-clad fingers hike high enough on your back to toy with the clasp of your bra while his other hand remains tangled in your hair to pull you impossibly closer.

“I have to go,” he rasps before swiping his tongue along his bottom lip—giving you a sudden itch to sink your teeth into it. “But you’re making it really hard to leave.” 

He’s making it really hard to tell him to go home, too, but as much as you want to kiss the night away, you still have some of your wits about you.

You chuckle as you reluctantly extract his wandering hands away from your body. Woo sighs in surrender with a nearly inaudible laugh.

“You already bent my I don’t kiss on the first date rule, genius,” you remind him breathlessly. “Don’t push your luck just yet until we’ve had that so-called first date next time.” 

He grins. “So there’s going to be a next time?”

Deciding to keep him on his toes, you bat your eyelashes coquettishly at him. “Only if you want to.”

Woo leans in to press his lips against the corner of your mouth—trying his best to suppress the grin on his face. 

“I’ll hold you to it then.”

Despite having lived in Seoul for four years and having a hardcore fangirl for a sister, today’s the first time you’ll be attending the pre-recording session for a music show. 

Needless to say, you feel like an outsider amongst the fans armed with all sorts of idol merchandise and dressed in the prettiest outfits. Haewon managed to mooch a lightstick off one of her friends for you to use, but despite the fact that you know not a single soul would give two shits about you here, the alienating sensation remains. 

“Hey, don’t be too nervous,” your little sister chortles as the marshals usher the crowd into the studio. “All you gotta do is wave that lightstick to the beat. You’ll blend right in, I promise.”

You crack her a nervous smile. Oh, the things you do to make Haewon happy.

It’s a little bit of a blur from there. You squeeze past the throng of fans while simultaneously trying not to lose your sister in the crowd. Some of the staff are handing out photocards that you hear are exclusively given away at this specific broadcast and were worth hundreds of thousands of won. You’re not sure which member Haewon got for you, but knowing your little sister, she must’ve snagged one of Wonwoo’s.

When the two of you are settled in your seats, you take the time to admire the set. You never imagined idol music show stages being this massive in person. In fact, you never really spared an active thought about them. Most of the info you do know about these kinds of things are secondhand accounts from Haewon from all the times she’s been to several broadcasting studios across the city. 

“Did you bring the PC I got you last time?” she asks before taking out the broadcast ones out of their plastic package. 

You shake your head. “Sorry. That Wonwoo’s sitting in a different bag.”

“Well, at least you haven’t sold him,” your little sister laughs before handing you one of the cards in her hands. “I told the staff to give us Mingyu and Wonwoo, but they gave me Hoshi and Wonwoo. It’s okay though, ‘cause Hoshi’s my bias wrecker anyway.”

Ah. More fandom jargon that you’re just now hearing about.

Just as the staff is starting to do the final preparations on stage, you decide to check out the broadcast PC that Haewon just gave to you. When your eyes land on Wonwoo’s face, however, you suddenly feel your blood freeze in your veins. 

You…don’t recognize me?

One of the staff members announces that the boys will be out shortly to begin the pre-recording session but the words are all but muted in your ears. 

Because how the hell can you focus on anything else when the face of the man who drove you back home last night—the man who kissed you until you were lightheaded—is plastered on a photocard that could be exchanged for an entire fortune?

This can’t be right, you muse with a scowl—fishing your phone out of your bag as your trembling fingers make haste to open your messaging app. He can’t be the same guy. 

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:35]: Good morning, I hope you got enough rest!

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:36]: I have a schedule later this morning so I might be MIA 

Me [09:40]: it’s cool. i just woke up actually hahaha

Me [09:40]: i also don’t mind! i’m heading out with my sister in a while too

Me [09:41]: have fun at work(?)

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:45]: Haha I will :) Have fun with your sister!

With a deep breath, you lock your phone just as the lights start to dim and the crowd cheers their hearts out. Haewon urges you to turn on your lightstick and the part of the studio that’s filled to the brim with an audience is lit up with hundreds of dazzling lights.  

You would’ve appreciated the sight if only a certain someone didn’t play you for a fucking fool.

Just as promised, the boys that your little sister has been crazy about since their debut all fill the stage gradually. Some of them greet the fans with wide grins and silly little gestures. The others are a little more reserved with their greetings—all shy smiles and reserved movements.

Like Wonwoo, for example.

After several years of only knowing Mingyu thanks to Haewon, this is the first time you were able to pick out another one of them on stage with ease. Why wouldn’t you be able to recognize him? 

He had you pressed up against your front door only a few hours ago.

It all made sense now. The affinity for keeping a face mask on. The late night visits. The fact that he seems to make an exorbitant amount of money from a job he doesn’t want to disclose.

Woo is Wonwoo from SEVENTEEN. 

And he somehow forgot to let you know over the course of your time together. 

You try to keep down the frustration that burns in your throat, making you feel like the roof of your mouth is stuffed with cotton. It’s much easier to mask your feelings once the performers all get into position and the music starts. The loud beat blaring from the speakers coupled with the well-practiced fanchants from the audience easily overpower the sound of your hitched breathing. Even Haewon was too engrossed with the performance to notice your distress.

Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. Especially when Wonwoo’s the one who starts up the first verse of their newest song. 

He looks so…different from the gentle giant you’ve come to know over the past few weeks. There’s a dangerous look in his eyes that you know is all for show, but it makes your spine tingle at the sight of it nonetheless. The words to the song are raspily sung into the mic and if you weren’t convinced that he and Woo aren’t the same person, you most certainly are now.

After all, it’s his fucking voice that got you so down bad in the first place.

Once his part is done, Wonwoo quickly heads over to the next formation—a complete professional by heart. He belts out each dance move with such perfect precision and you wouldn’t expect any less from an idol who’s spent years honing his talents. But despite how awe-struck you are to see this side of him in person, it just wasn’t enough to completely erase the feeling that you’ve been betrayed.

It stings even more when the song ends and the studio is filled with deafening screams from the audience yet again. For once, Wonwoo’s stoic expression cracks with a handsome grin as he and the rest of his bandmates huddle together and exchange high fives. 

That person on stage is both the man you caught feelings for and a stranger at the same time. He easily smiles at the fans the same way he would smile at you, but the difference between Woo and Wonwoo is that only one of them is willing to show this part of his life to the rest of the world. 

Did he not trust you enough? Did he think you’d act like some crazy fan if he told you the truth?

You love Haewon. You love your little sister more than anything in the world, but you can’t pretend that things are okay when the man who kept you in the dark is standing right in front of you, clueless of the revelation that occurred to you just now.

“Where are you going?” Haewon calls out when you make your way out of the rows of seats—earning yourself a collection of glares from the other fans in the vicinity. “Unnie, hey!”

The last thing you want to do is ditch her for something you promised you’d see through until the end but you’re just so fucking done. You don’t want to see Wonwoo right now. Or hear him and his stupidly perfect voice through the studio’s sound system. 

Right now, you just…want to be alone.

About two weeks after you stormed out of the first and last music show pre-recording you’ll ever attend in your life, things have more or less mellowed out. Sort of.

You’ve been taking fewer and fewer shifts at the shelter as graduation draws ever-so near. But aside from wanting to focus on getting your academic backlogs over with, you also wanted to stay away from the one place that Woo—or should you say Wonwoo—can easily find you and subsequently corner you to talk. Because you don’t want to talk to someone who’s basically been lying to your face the entire time you’ve been friends.

Well, you suppose if you really don’t want to hear even a peep out of him, you should’ve blocked his number altogether. But that’s not really the case.

Your phone buzzes while you’re in the middle of signing off adoption papers to a couple who wanted to adopt one of the shelter cats. You thought it was pretty adorable of them to make that decision since having a pet together is almost as good as having a kid together after all.

Thinking it was from your adviser, you snuck a glance towards the notifications in your homescreen. But when you see a familiar emoji plastered on the sender’s nickname, you’re quick to put it face down on the wooden desk.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:35]: Good morning. Are you at the shelter today? Can I speak to you?

How he has it in him to keep texting you as if you haven’t given him nothing but radio silence for the past two weeks, you’re not sure. Wonwoo must’ve sensed that something was amiss the moment you stopped replying to him altogether, but he never tried to pester you about what was wrong. Instead, he simply continued sending all those messages to check in on you despite the fact that it’s almost as if he’s talking to a wall.

Well, it’s not like you have time to entertain him now anyways. 

“Are you sure she doesn’t have a name yet?” One of your clients—the boyfriend—asks as he smooths down his newly adopted Maine Coon’s fur. 

The girlfriend rolls her eyes. “You heard the nice shelter lady, Vern. This one just wouldn’t respond to any name they tried to give her.”

You agree with a half-hearted laugh, trying your best to ignore the guilt that’s perpetually swelling in your heart the longer you ignore Wonwoo’s pleas. “Yup. Our director said she’s got a bit of an attitude, but I think she just has high standards.”

Vern the Boyfriend makes a funny face at that. “So you’re saying that she doesn’t like the names she’s been given so far?”

“Mhmm. We tried Cupcake, Winter, Princess, and Lily, but she liked none of those. Try naming her something fancy. ”

“Chairman Meow?”

“Vern.” 

“What? You gotta admit it’s funny, Sohee.”

Sohee the Girlfriend rolls her eyes. “Yes, but it’s an overused pun now! Think of something else.”

“Hmm. How about…Milana?”

“Is that because Seokmin wouldn’t shut up about his trip to Milan?”

“Ugh, yeah. Two months later and he still won’t stop talking about—”

“The gorgonzola he had for dinner the night before he flew back to Korea. I know. You won’t stop talking about it either.”

“Hey, Seokmin-hyung pays great attention to detail when it comes to food. You can’t help but want it, too.”

As you observe the friendly banter between the couple, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You don’t come across two people who complement each other as well as they do, and from the curious glint in their newly adopted cat’s eyes, you think she likes being in their company as well.

“Fine, let’s test it out first,” Sohee huffs before scratching behind the Maine Coon’s ears. “We’re going to call you Milana. Does that sound good to you?”

When the cat nuzzles her hand with a pleased meow, Sohee and Vern turn to glance at each other at the same time—two matching smiles plastered on their faces.

God. You can only wish to have what they do.

Once the rest of the documents have been finalized, you and Mina—who just got back from updating the vaccination records for all the animals in the shelter—see your most recent clients off. Vern the Boyfriend, Sohee the Girlfriend, and Milana the Child are off to the streets to start the next chapter of their lives or whatever.

When the door to the front entrance clicks shut, you let out the longest, deepest sigh known to mankind. Your coworker stifles a laugh.

“Looks like someone’s jealous,” Mina comments. 

You whine. “How could I not be jealous of that? They’re so in love, it’s sickening. They even got a kid together!” 

“You know, you could easily have that too if you just stopped avoiding—”

“Oh, look at the time!” You interrupt her a little too theatrically, stomping off to the direction of the break room. “Gotta go meet my thesis adviser. Kino and the other volunteers should show up in the next hour, though!”

You don’t catch the frustrated look on Mina’s face as you make a hasty retreat, but it doesn’t make you any less guilty about trying to skirt around the topic every chance you get. Mina’s always had your back during these past two weeks. Though you never told her why you’re avoiding your not-so-quote-unquote crush like the plague, she’d always come up with excuses and alibis to throw him off your trail. 

Which, coincidentally, happens again just as you’re changing out of your uniform.

“I don’t suppose you’re looking for a sibling for Hani?” you hear Mina sigh from outside.

The person she’s talking to laughs softly. “No. I think you know why I’m here again.”

God. That fucking voice.

“Well, again, she’s not here,” your coworker bluffs. “And uh, word of advice, I get that you’re hot shit and all, but if you keep trying to bother my friend who, for some reason, doesn’t want anything to do with you, I might have to call the authorities.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second.

That’s a little too different from the typical ‘oh I’m sure she’ll come around one of these days’ spiel that Mina always feeds to Wonwoo every time he visits. Sure, you’re not yet ready to face him yet after everything that’s happened, but it’s not like you want him thrown in jail—

“Uh, right. I get it,” he says awkwardly, clearing his throat in the process. “It’s just that she hasn’t spoken to me in days and I’m a little worried—”

“That’s clearly a sign for you to back off, buddy.” You can almost see Mina with her arms crossed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been keeping myself from saying anything about it, but I’ve always found it strange how often you visit a goddamn animal shelter. And now that she’s clearly avoiding you, you’re still trying to corner her? Are you a stalker or something?”

Fuck. This isn’t how the conversation is supposed to go! 

Mina’s job is to just politely drive Wonwoo away so you can slip out of the building without having to talk to him. But your coworker must’ve misinterpreted your persistent reluctance to meet him as genuine fear and…while you’re glad you have a friend who looks out for you like that, she’s going about all of this the wrong way!

Wonwoo doesn’t speak for a long time and your heart squeezes at the notion that he’s been called all those harsh words when all he wanted to do was talk to you. You didn’t even give him any reasons as to why you suddenly decided to cut him off. But instead of marching out there to face him and clear the air yourself…

You stay hidden in the break room like a fucking coward.

“I understand why you’d assume that, but I don’t have any ill intentions—”

“That's exactly what a guy with ill intentions would say,” Mina scoffs. “Do both of us a favor and just leave, yeah? And stop trying to contact her when she obviously wants nothing to do with you anymore.”

The silence hangs thick from outside and despite being in the break room, you swear you can almost choke on it yourself. 

You’re not sure what expression Wonwoo is wearing. Actually, you don’t even know him well enough to know those kinds of things. The most you’ve seen of his face was during that quiet night you spent together two weeks ago and you’ve severed contact with him all because of something that he probably could have explained if only you gave him the chance to.

“Okay,” he whispers so softly, you almost don’t catch it. “Thanks for your time.”

Fortunately, Mina doesn’t try to add any more fuel to the fire. All you hear is the sound of retreating footsteps and the sound of the front door clicking shut. 

It’s only when your coworker pokes her head inside the break room that you realize you’ve been holding your breath.

“He’s gone now,” she murmurs with a comforting smile. “And if he doesn’t stop bothering you even after that, I’ll raise the complaint to the director himself. I’m sure he can pull some legal strings to keep that guy out of the area for good.”

You find it kind of ironic that a few minutes ago, Mina was teasing you about him and now things have escalated into restraining order territory. But you can’t really blame her for it.

Especially when you’ve done nothing to clear up the misunderstanding.

“Right. Thanks, Mina.” You manage a thin smile, fingers absentmindedly drifting to the black cat enamel you still pinned to your uniform’s chest pocket.

“I really appreciate it.”

Haewon 🪷 [10:30]: Unnie hiii

Haewon 🪷 [10:33]: Can you call me as soon as you read this? Xoxo

You get to check Haewon’s message three hours late because finally, finally you’ve managed to defend your thesis after innumerable sleepless nights and neverending changes to your manuscript draft. Your panelists and advisers had nothing but praises to sing about your work—even going as far as to promise that your paper will definitely be published in the next volume of the academic journal you’d been secretly hoping it’ll get selected for. 

It’s still surreal that the only thing you’ve got left on your university to-do list is to attend the commencement rites scheduled in three weeks’ time. Four grueling years have really just gone by in a flash. 

After enjoying one of your last lunch breaks in the quad with some old classmates who’ve also conquered the figurative beast that is their undergrad thesis, you excuse yourself for a while to give your little sister a ring. Haewon picks up on the second ring. 

“About time you called,” she huffs. “I thought you were sleeping in the day again.”

You shake your head with a laugh despite the fact that she can’t see the gesture. “No more sleeping in the day for me ‘cause I’m graduating.”

Haewon gasps—loud enough to create static across the line. “Really? Oh my god. That’s good news then! Mom and dad were actually getting worried about you, you know? You’ve been throwing yourself into that stupid thesis of yours for a month now.” 

It takes a while for you to formulate a response, something akin to guilt creeping into your heart at the prospect of worrying your parents sick. But then again, what’s done is done. You can catch up on the several hours of sleep and countless brain cells you’ve lost trying to make your final manuscript actually make sense.

“It’s all good now,” you reassure. “All you guys have to do now is fly over to Seoul for my graduation and I can pack my bags and go back to the countryside as soon as I can.” 

You half-expect Haewon to laugh off your haste to travel back to your hometown and say something about how you’re better off in the city than this old dump. 

But you’re met with silence instead.

“Um,” she starts nervously after a few moments. “I know most of the stuff that’s been stressing you out is gone now, but… Are you sure you’re okay?”

The question makes you swallow thickly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Unnie, I’m your sister,” Haewon says a-matter-of-factly and you can almost picture her scowling at you. “We both know you’ve been acting really weird ever since the pre-recording. I couldn’t pester you about it ‘cause I had to go back home the next day. And I didn’t want to bother you while you were finishing up your thesis.

“So now that all those obstacles are out of the way, do you mind telling me what’s wrong?”

The sound of the other students milling around the quad rings in your ears as you process Haewon’s words. When you take a deep breath, the exhale is accompanied by defeated laughter.

You’re an idiot to think you could ever escape your little sister’s scrutiny.

“I know you’re going to give me shit if I say it’s nothing you should worry about—”

“You’re right,” she interjects. “I will give you shit.”

“—but it really is nothing you should worry about,” you continue anyway, toying with the hem of your sweater with a wistful sigh. “Long story short, it’s…boy problems. Boy problems that I’ve ignored long enough that they just went away all on their own.”

At the other line, Haewon makes a strangled noise as if that’s not the answer she was expecting. “Come again?”

“Yeah, Hae. Your big sister actually has boy problems,” you chortle. “Weird, right?”

“Yes and you didn’t even bother telling me about it at all?!” She crows angrily. “You have to give me the gist or I’m hanging up and booking the next flight to Seoul.” 

For a moment, you hesitate and give yourself a moment to think about what you can and can’t tell Haewon over a phone call when she’s a whole plane ride away from you. 

She absolutely cannot know that the boy in question is Wonwoo. You’ll probably spend more time trying to convince her that what you’re saying is true than avoiding a pity party. So instead, you tell her:

“Well, this boy and I had…something good going for us, I think. I like him, you know—really, really like him. But then one day, I found out that he’s been keeping this important thing about himself from me.” A sigh. “Like, I know some stuff is none of my business, but it’s so easy for him to let others know about that…that thing, yet somehow he never bothered to tell me. I couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t trust me enough.”

Surprisingly, Haewon lets out a hum of understanding. “Yeah, that’s kind of a dick move on his part. Did you confront him about it?”

You find yourself tongue-tied for a moment—a bit embarrassed to admit to your little sister that you chose the coward’s way out of this. 

“Um, that’s the thing. I kind of ghosted him when I found out,” you tell her sheepishly. “I don’t think he knows the reason why I suddenly just dipped to this day. Haven’t spoken to him in…two months.” 

“Uh-huh. So all this time, you’ve been burying your guilt in schoolwork. Is that it?”

The straightforward tone catches you off guard for a second. “That’s not—”

“Unnie,” Haewon calls out firmly, making you close your mouth. “Again, I’m your sister. I know things about you that others don’t—things that you don’t either, probably. And trust me when I say this, but you are not the confrontational type. Don’t worry though because it’s perfectly fine to avoid the things you don’t want to deal with. Especially if you’re dealing with a person that’s more trouble than they’re worth.

“But…you said that you really, really like him. Present tense.” She pauses briefly, as if letting you digest what she’s saying a little better. “If the circumstances were even slightly different, I would’ve cheered you on for ghosting someone who hasn’t been one hundred percent honest with you because, duh? Deserved. But from the way you’ve been coping with what happened, I can’t help but think that avoiding him like this isn’t what you wanted to do at all.” 

Haewon’s words flow from the speaker and lance straight through your heart, and you start to wonder when she started sounding so reliable. You’re used to looking out for her even with the distance separating you. But ironically, it’s in your last year of college that your sister effortlessly dissected the dilemma that’s been plaguing you for weeks.

“Look, I think you’ll feel much better about all this if you just talk to him,” she continues when you don’t utter a word in response. “Not that I’m siding with some semi-lying jerk, but maybe he had his reasons for hiding…whatever he was hiding from you? If he gives you a bullshit excuse, then at least the ghosting will finally be justified, right?”

Her frankness makes you snort. “I guess.”

“Good. Now hang up and call him now.”

“...What?” 

“You heard me.”

“Haewon, I can’t just call him out of nowhere after ignoring him for so long.”

“Pfft. Of course you can! If he doesn’t answer, then that still justifies the ghosting because he obviously doesn’t want you enough. Men like that don’t deserve you, unnie.”

“...Fine. Point taken.”

You end the call after Haewon makes you swear to keep her posted about the situation and your love life in general from now on. Sighing, you reluctantly scroll through your messaging app—finding a conversation that’s long been buried by more recent texts from other people after he sent his final messages to you.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: It’s been three weeks since you last replied. Hope you’re doing okay. 

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:36]: Mina told me that you wanted nothing to do with me anymore but I really don’t understand why because…aren’t we good? Didn’t we have something back there? Or was I just reading you wrong the whole time?

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:55]: Either way, she was right about one thing at least. I’ve probably made you uncomfortable with my texts. Kind of pathetic now that I think about it. 

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:01]: I’m sorry for constantly bothering you like this. It’s just that…I want to know what went wrong.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:05]: It’s getting harder for me to sleep at night knowing I fucked up something that could’ve been the start of something nice. I was already planning our first date, you know?

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:10]: Fuck. Now it just sounds like I’m gaslighting haha.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:17]: Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. I don’t even know anymore.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [04:25]: What I do know is that I miss you. So much.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:05]: Uh. Sorry about all of that. I had a few drinks and…you know how it goes.

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:12]: I’ll stop texting you for real now. 

Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:15]: I hope your studies go well. Thank you for being part of my life, no matter how short our time together was.

Fuck. 

This is going to be much more difficult than you thought.

You don’t really blame yourself when it takes you a few days to decide whether or not you should call Wonwoo. The choice has been weighing on you like a cloud above your head and you had to decline several invites to go out from your friends because you simply cannot sit still, knowing that you have to do something about…whatever’s going on with the two of you.

Part of you insists on just leaving it as it is. Wonwoo is an idol that’s almost a decade into his career and you’re much too certain that he’s met enough people in his life to deem the loss of your company specifically a big deal. He has his members, his fans, and anything else a person could ever want.

So what if some college senior he doesn’t even know that well just ghosted him out of nowhere?

But even with that logic, you still end up holding your breath before pressing the call button one Tuesday afternoon. 

There are a total of five attempts made and all five lead you straight to voicemail—each instance making your heart grow heavier and heavier once the prerecorded message comes to an end. You secretly fear that he must’ve blocked your number altogether. Why wouldn’t he after you’ve wasted his time as much as you did?

Others would’ve considered this as a sign to just give up. The universe is basically telling you that the brief time you shared together would yield nothing more. Wonwoo has his own career to worry about and as do you, now that you’re finally going to be ejected from university and into the life of an unemployed fresh grad. You’re better off not chasing after the things you’ve purposely run away from in the first place.

So why on earth are you looking up the exact address of his company building, making the long commute for the slim chance of running into him against all odds?

The security around the area might look lax but you can spot the assortment of security guards stationed both inside and outside of the company building pretty easily. Given the nature of the business they’re running, it would make sense that they’d put up all possible countermeasures against people who might try to inconvenience their artists in any way.

Not wanting to be branded as a crazed fan, you decide to keep your distance—purposely lingering outside the shopping center just across the street as you brainstorm how exactly you’re going to meet up with Wonwoo. 

But as the minutes ticked past, your sense of reason is starting to overpower your desire to clear things up with him. For one, you don’t even know what his schedule looks like. How can you be so sure that he’ll even be there today? Worse, would Wonwoo even want to speak with you after everything? Despite having kept the fact that he’s an idol a secret to you all this time, he has all the right to refuse speaking with you when you never even gave him a chance to explain himself.

The noise of the busy district fades in the background as your eyes fall to Wonwoo’s final text message. You haven’t even thought of texting him since you considered reaching out. But with the fact that your earlier phone calls didn’t go through, you don’t think you can bear seeing your apologetic messages get denied in the very real chance that he’s blacklisted your number altogether.

God. You feel so pathetic.

“Hey, it’s you!”

You immediately blanche at the feeling of someone placing a hand on your shoulder—turning around to see who it is only to be met with the sight of two familiar faces.

“Oh,” you voice out somewhat dumbly. “Miss…Sohee? And Vern?”

The couple who adopted a cat from the shelter flashes you pretty smiles, the two of them carrying grocery bags in each arm. Sohee perks up when you recognize them. “Yup! I didn’t expect to see the nice shelter lady around these parts. What brings you here?”

“Just…stuff.” The laugh you spare them is a little too forced, but if they notice, they don’t comment on it. “How about you guys? How has Milana been?”

“Feels right at home in either of our apartments,” Vern chuckles. “You were right about her having high standards. We always end up doing our grocery shopping here instead of the supermarket near my place ‘cause Lana refuses to eat any of the cheap cat food being sold there.”

Sohee sighs in agreement. “Mhmm. You wouldn’t even think she was a rescue with how high maintenance she is, but we’re idiots that dote on her all the time. It’s just a good thing we work right across the street from here.”

Feeling endeared with how much they spoil their new child aside, the latter part of Sohee’s statement catches your attention for a moment. “Sorry? You work right across the street?”

The moment the words leave your lips, the charming smiles on their faces falter before the couple before you share a look. A brief moment of telepathic communication must’ve occurred between the both of them, as if wordlessly discussing whether they should respond, but in the end Sohee relents.

“Yeah. Vern and I work at HYBE,” she chuckles. “I’m actually surprised you don’t recognize him, since he’s—”

“A very loyal employee that the nice shelter lady can’t possibly recognize,” Vern interjects with a cough into his fist and the immediate reaction makes it easier to put two and two together.

He’s an idol. One hundred percent an idol.

Deciding to play along, you offer up a nod in understanding. “I see. Guess you guys are heading back for the day?”

“Yep. We had one of the other members—uh, I mean, one of our friends look after Milana while we had our grocery run,” Vern explains not-so-smoothly.

“As much as we’d like to stay and chat for a while longer, our baby kind of needs us,” Sohee tells you with an apologetic look. “I hope things at the shelter are running smoothly! We’ve seen how dedicated you guys are to taking care of those poor animals.”

You nod. “Of course. I’ll see you guys around?”

“Anytime!”

You and the beautiful couple exchange quaint bows in farewell before the two of them start walking away. But with each footstep that they take further and further away from you, the itch to run after them and ask what you’ve been dying to when they said they both worked at HYBE grows all the more unbearable.

Cut it out, you mentally hiss at yourself. You can’t bother other people about your issues with Wonwoo. That’s just a whole new low. 

You should’ve just gone the opposite direction when the conversation ended. You should’ve just directed yourself to the nearest bus stop back to your apartment—buried all of this in the past where it belongs.

But it’s as if your body has a mind of its own. The next thing you know, you’re sprinting towards Sohee and Vern before they could cross the next intersection—surprising the couple with your sudden re-entry.

“Did you need something?” Sohee asks, accommodating and confused all at once.

Now or never.

“Yes, actually,” you dole out breathlessly, pursing your lips before adding:

“Do you guys know where Wonwoo is?”

Out of all the ways you thought this day could turn out, you never would’ve imagined being in the backseat of one of HYBE’s music producers—breezing through the city’s freeway as she interrogates you about just how exactly you know Jeon Wonwoo.

“So you’re the reason he’s being so off lately,” Sohee chuckles before switching lanes. “Wonwoo’s always been the quiet type, but sometimes you can just tell when there’s a lot on his mind. Isn’t that right, Vernon?”

Vernon, who you come to realize is part of the same group as Wonwoo, glances at you from the rearview mirror with a shake of his head. “I can vouch. Wonwoo-hyung’s been working on sharing stuff with us, but of course there’s still some things he’d like to keep to himself.”

I also don’t want to be closed off from others anymore. Back then, I mostly just kept everything to myself—bottling it all up until it was just unbearable.

Great. Now you feel twice as horrible.

“Honestly, I was kind of scared that you guys would think I’m a sasaeng,” you admit with a dry laugh before settling further into the car’s plush upholstery. 

“While we have no reason not to think that with all the weirdos popping up these days,” Sohee starts before her lips curve into a smile, “it just so happens that Soonyoung also can’t keep his mouth shut about Wonwoo’s little crush.”

That makes your face heat up a little. “Soonyoung like…Wonwoo’s friend?”

“You might know him better as Hoshi,” Vernon explains. 

Hoshi, Hoshi, Hoshi…

You snap your fingers once you figure it out. “Yeah. He’s my sister’s bias wrecker.”

“Now we learn that your sister is a fan, too? Huh. Small world.”

“Anyway,” Sohee interjects. “The reason why we believed your explanation was because Soonyoung described Wonwoo’s crush as an animal lover. He’s not so much of a blabbermouth that he gave us more details aside from that, but Vernon here told me about how Wonwoo always comes late to their unit meetings because he keeps making all these detours first.”

Vernon stifles a laugh. “I actually found out about the shelter because Coups-hyung insisted that we follow him around to figure out where he’s been going. It didn’t occur to me at the time that his animal lover crush and the nice shelter lady could be the same person.”

At this point, you can honestly get used to being called a nice shelter lady. But that aside, you can’t help but flush even further at all the things being revealed to you right now. 

It’s…a lot to unpack. 

First, Wonwoo has a crush on you? A complete nobody? Then again, from how often he’s been seeking you out before things went to shit, you could infer that he’s at least a little bit interested from how he kept going out of his way to see you. He’s even late to meetings because of his little visits. This so-called crush was quite obvious, you just don’t like how flustered hearing it out loud makes you feel.

“But then Wonwoo-hyung just started showing up on time to our meetings during our comeback promotions,” Vernon continues. “We were glad we didn’t have to keep waiting for him to start, but…we also noticed that he’s been kind of down lately. The first time it happened, I assumed it was just an off day for him, though now that we met you like this, that’s definitely not the case.”

Wonwoo’s been feeling down? Because of you?

If the roles were reversed, you can say that you’d feel the same if he just stopped talking to you when you thought you were already growing closer. It doesn’t help that the last time you were together, you shared far too many kisses that mere friends should indulge each other with. 

You sigh, leaning your head against the headrest.

You’re such an idiot. A selfish, inconsiderate—

“Well, here we are.”

When the car pulls over, you don’t even realize that Sohee already left the freeway and drove into one of the roads overlooking the Han River. You can barely keep yourself from choking on your own breath when you spot a very familiar motorcycle parked in front of the vehicle. It doesn’t help that Sohee pulled over a certain spot underneath the elevated highway that you’re very much certain you’ve already been to once before.

“Hyung doesn’t know that we know about this place. He never brings anyone else here,” Vernon informs you with a small smile. “From the look on your face, we can assume that he’s already brought you here though, right?”

You can’t even deny it at this point. “Yeah…”

Sohee moves to unlock the doors before glancing behind the driver’s seat with an encouraging look. “Well, how about you clear things upso we can start going on double dates and stuff.”

“Sohee,” her boyfriend groans.

“What? I think it’d be a great idea.” She pouts. “We can even rope Nari and Mingyu into tagging along. Then it’ll be a triple date.”

“What she means to say is,” Vernon cuts in before Sohee can get another word out. “No pressure. You go sort out the stuff you need to with Wonwoo-hyung. I’m sure the two of you can make the best decision for each other once you get to talk properly.”

The best decision, huh…

Your new friends watch you with wordless encouragement as you open the door to your left, letting out a long-winded breath so you wouldn’t be too psyched out by the circumstances. You thank them both with a subtle nod as you gather enough courage to see the person you’ve been longing to meet again for a while now.

Now or never, you repeat to yourself before finally stepping out of the car.

Wonwoo’s thinking spot looks much different in the day than it does at night.

You had a pretty hard time navigating the short terrain from the road to the old, weathered steps of the watchtower because of the lack of proper illumination. If it weren’t for Wonwoo guiding you the entire time, you would’ve face planted into the pebbled pathway on the first few steps. 

The sun is already setting when you make it to your destination—red orange rays splintering through the high rise buildings on the other side of the river bank. It’s not difficult to spot Wonwoo’s tall figure leaning across the rusty railing of the watchtower, a gentle smile gracing his handsome face as he plays with the growing kitten in his arms. 

He doesn’t notice you at the foot of the concrete steps right away, too engrossed with playing with Hani to take in the rest of his surroundings. But the longer you watch them from afar, the more your chest twists with guilt.

All this time, you never really thought about how Wonwoo must’ve been faring since you ghosted him. You merely assumed that he’d still be living his best life despite what happened between the two of you. The thought that he’ll still be better off without you in his life spurred you on to solely focus on the things you’ve got going on your end. You didn’t consider just how your actions would affect him. Not even once. 

But now, despite having such an adorable cat to keep him company, it isn’t hard to tell that he’s not in the most stellar of moods.

It’s not like you’ve seen Wonwoo smile a lot when you still knew him as Woo—no thanks to his silly little face masks. But you always liked how his eyes crinkled behind his glasses whenever you said something he finds funny or amusing. The easygoing body language he always seemed to have around you.

There’s none of that now.

“Wonwoo.”

He visibly stiffens at the sound of someone calling his name. Cautiously, Wonwoo tucks Hani closer to his chest—glancing around for anyone who could have infiltrated his safe haven.

When his eyes land on you, you can almost hear his breath hitch from where you’re standing.

Seeing no indication that he doesn’t want you here, you swallow the lump in your throat before climbing up the stairs. Each step you take is familiar yet foreign at the same time and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears the closer you get to him. The startled expression on Wonwoo’s face doesn’t falter even when you’re mere feet in front of him on top of the watchtower—like he’s having a hard time grasping your existence.

Hani, however, doesn’t seem all that fazed. The black kitten mewls in delight at the sight of you, squirming around in Wonwoo’s arms, which seems to snap her owner out of his stupor.

His throat bobs. “You know my name.”

You laugh softly. “It isn’t hard to figure it out when you’re as famous as you are.”

Silence permeates the air by the riverside as Wonwoo processes the words you just told him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, hands absentmindedly running across Hani’s fur.

“So that’s why,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. “I should’ve known…”

You mirror the gesture somewhat vigorously, your throat closing up from all the things you want to say. He doesn’t deserve to be left hanging all because of that stupid reason alone. He doesn’t deserve those hurtful words from Mina.

Most of all, he doesn’t deserve to feel this shitty all because you were too much of a coward to communicate with him.

“I’m sorry.” 

He startles at your apology—obviously not expecting that to be the first thing you say to him after two months of radio silence. “W-Why are you sorry? I should be—”

“It was unfair of me to just ghost you like that when you haven’t explained yourself,” you murmur, tucking your hands behind your back as you stare down at your shoes in shame. “I’m sure you had your reasons for not telling me right away, but… I selfishly thought you didn’t trust me enough to let me know.”

“No,” he quickly clarifies. “It’s not like that at all. I trust you—so much.”

“I know,” you sigh. “It took me a while, but I realized that along the way. The last time we were here, you entrusted me with the story of how you coped with losing someone. You entrusted me with your thoughts, your feelings, your secrets. And I took all that for granted because you didn’t tell me you were an idol.”

Wonwoo falls silent for only a moment as if considering what words to say next. Hani seems to sense his distress, cuddling up to his chest in an attempt to soothe him. He notices what she’s doing right away and Wonwoo scratches behind her ears with a breathless chuckle.

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t plan on hiding it forever. I knew you would find out eventually—just not as soon as you did,” he murmurs. “It was also unfair of me to take advantage of the fact that you didn’t know me as Wonwoo. But…I wanted to keep my career out of the equation first because it’s nice being treated like a normal person. You never put me on a pedestal or looked at me like I was some sort of god.

“You treated me like I was human.”

This time, you’re the one who’s at a loss for words. 

Having Haewon as a sister, you have this preconceived notion about idols where they have the world in the palm of their hands. You thought for the longest time that all they had to do was go up the stage to sing and dance and look beautiful and the rest will follow. 

Hearing Wonwoo tell you this easily subverted all those assumptions. 

You’ve never been good at telling people the things they need to hear. That’s Haewon’s area of expertise, not yours. So instead of offering up any words of comfort, you quickly close the distance that’s been keeping you apart to throw your arms around his broad shoulders.

Wonwoo freezes up when you pull him into a hug and he loathes the fact that he can’t even reciprocate it given that he has his hands full. It’s kind of adorable how careful you’re being to make sure you don’t accidentally squish Hani between your bodies. 

Suddenly, all that heaviness that’s been lingering in his heart for weeks dissipates in a flash. Wonwoo relishes in the feeling of your warmth seeping into his, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds back his emotions.

“Can we start over again?” you murmur. “We still haven’t had our first date, right?”

When you feel the sound of his laughter rumbling in his chest, you can’t help the goosebumps that rise across your skin. “Wow. I didn’t expect you to forgive me that fast.”

Pulling away for a moment, you shoot him a dirty look. “Jeon Wonwoo, are you saying I’m easy?”

“Not at all.” Wonwoo grins and you can barely look at him without recoiling at how good he looks. 

His hair has grown much longer than you remember and seeing the smile that oh-so easily hooked you in deeper than you already were, you already know that you can’t ever hope to put up a fight. 

Not when he’s so love-of-your-life-shaped.

“Since we’re at the point of catching up, I’m actually graduating in three weeks.”

Wonwoo sharply turns to look at you with a scowl as he puts Hani in a little cat backpack he got for her. “Three weeks? Shit… I think we’re going to have a concert at that time.”

You wave away his concern with a smile. “I didn’t mean I was expecting you to show up at the venue, doofus. Can’t have any weird rumors about you going around by attending my graduation.”

“Rumors about what?” he challenges.

“You know.”

“I actually don’t.”

“We just made up ten minutes ago, Do you really want me to bail on you again?”

“Hey, I just thought that if you ever want to spark some dating rumors, we can make it happen any time.” 

“We’re not even dating!”

“Not yet.”

“What?”

“It’s just like you said—I still owe you that first date, don’t I?”

“...Have I told you that you’re insufferable?”

“I’m actually surprised you didn’t start calling me that when I kept visiting the shelter too often to be considered normal.”

“That reminds me, why were you visiting the shelter so much?”

When Wonwoo hands you Hani’s cat backpack, you take it as an invitation to hitch a ride on his motorcycle. After all, it would be uncomfortable to have it sitting between the two of you. However, he takes you completely by surprise by answering you with:

“I like you. That’s why.”

It takes you about five whole seconds to recover from what he just said but it’s five seconds too late because Wonwoo is already chuckling to himself as if he deserves to have the last laugh.

“You’re lucky that I like you too,” you mumble as you carefully hop on his ride—sitting comfortably behind him while making sure Hani is strapped securely behind you. “If I didn’t, Mina would’ve made our boss file a restraining order against you.”

Wonwoo hands you a spare helmet before putting on his own, laughing again as he clicks the lock in place. “Dating rumors and stalking rumors? Being with you sounds like such a big hassle now.”

“Are we going on that first date or not?!”

Two months after graduating and four weeks into officially dating Jeon Wonwoo, you find out the real reason he was taking so damn long to make up his mind about adopting Hani.

The landlord doesn’t prohibit pets—he loves them, actually. 

His dog, Seol, is a little shy, but she gets along with Hani just fine.

But then his old roommate, Mingyu, dropped by to visit Wonwoo’s apartment one day, sneezing all over the place like it’s pollen season. Except the pollen in question is cat fur and it just so happens that he didn’t bring any of his allergy meds for the trip.

“As much as I want to cuddle on the couch catching up on the Marvel Cinematic Universe with you guys, I gotta go,” Mingyu explains while blowing his nose into a tissue. “I’ll die if I spend even a second longer here.”

Wonwoo throws a piece of popcorn at him. “Didn’t you say that you’re going on a date with Nari?”

“Oh. That, too.”

“If she finds out that you just remembered as an afterthought, she’s going to kill you,” you tease while shoving a handful of your movie snacks into your mouth. “At least, that’s what I’d do if Wonwoo did the same thing.”

“Oh, she will. That’s why neither of you are going to tattle on me,” the beefy idol huffs before tossing the soiled tissue in the trash bin. “Anyway, Wonwoo-hyung, you should totally keep in touch with this pet sitter that Seungcheol-hyung discovered recently. A bunch of other artists leave their pets with her whenever they have tight schedules.”

Your boyfriend merely looks at him with an unimpressed look. “Are you saying that just so I can leave Hani there when you come over to play video games with me?”

“Yes.”

Mingyu leaves shortly after receiving a phone call from his girlfriend, Nari, who sounded nothing short of furious when she asked where on earth he is and why he’s late for their date again. Wonwoo tells you that his best friend has a thing for pissing off Nari just so he has an excuse to do grand gestures for her without his girlfriend complaining about it. You tell him that he should start doing the same too.

“By the way, you’re flying back to Jeju for a while, right?” Wonwoo asks once the credits start rolling in the film playing on his TV—the loose grip he has around your waist tightening ever-so slightly.

You shift your weight on the couch to cuddle closer to him. “Yeah. I haven’t seen my parents and Haewon since I graduated. Plus, I don’t have to start working until next month, so I can afford a last-minute getaway.”

He nods. “I still think it’s funny you haven’t told your sister about me. Are you ashamed of me or something?”

“Quit saying weird stuff, Jeon Wonwoo,” you huff before hitting him in the chest. Damn those firm pecs. “I just want to see the look on her face when she finds out I’m dating the person she ships with Mingyu for fun.”

“And I still can’t believe my future sister-in-law is a Gyuldaengie.”

You try not to think about how he said Haewon is his future in-law. You really do.

Once the last of the end credits pans on-screen, the bonus scene at the end of every Marvel movie starts playing and you can’t help but snort when Eddy gets snapped back to his own universe before he can even pay off his tab to the bartender. Just when you’re about to ask Wonwoo if he wants to watch the next movie, you realize he’s had his eyes on you the entire time.

“What?” you laugh.

“Nothing,” he whispers. “I just thought you were really pretty.”

“Wonwoo, you tell me that every thirty minutes. Don’t you get tired of it?”

You yelp when he abruptly pulls you onto his lap, steadying you by the hips so you wouldn’t accidentally topple to the floor. He flashes you a lazy grin as he traces circles along the curve of your thighs and you can barely suppress a groan when you look down at him.

He might look like some otherworldly creature every time he kills it on stage, but you love this Wonwoo just the same—dressed down with his glasses sitting all crooked on the bridge of his nose, hair falling across his eyes. 

“Never,” he says simply. 

There’s something oddly sensual about the way he says it and at that moment, you catch on to the half-lidded look in his eyes. You gulp, gaze instinctively wandering around his apartment to look for Hani and Seol, who you spot dozing next to each other in the kitchen. 

Now that you’re sure none of the kids are watching, you let out a defeated sigh before lacing your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him.

Wonwoo is a guy you caved and kissed before the first date, so it’s pretty natural for the two of you to fall into this degree of intimacy every now and again. His effect on you is especially lethal whenever you spend several days apart because of the nature of his career. 

But even if you’re yet to cross that line with your boyfriend, the possibility of it finally coming into fruition becomes more and more real every time his hot tongue slides against yours. 

“Won…woo—” you gasp when you feel his cold fingers sneak up your shirt, hands firmly grabbing your waist to keep you in place. 

Your boyfriend chuckles and the low vibrations that come from his chest shoot straight to your core. “I know tonight was supposed to be movie night, but you’re making it really hard to keep my hands off of you.” 

“That’s what you say all the time,” you groan as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. Fuck. “Always blaming me for your lack of self-control.”

“I can’t help it when you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips before tugging you back down for another heated kiss.

You’ve fooled around with Wonwoo a handful of times and during said times, you’ve gotten an idea of how…into it he gets when pleasuring you. It’s almost as if he delights in seeing you come undone for him even if it’s just with his mouth and fingers. 

It’s during those moments that you can’t help but imagine how he would be once the two of you finally take things all the way. But for all your teasing about how he has questionable self-control, Wonwoo has done nothing but respect the boundaries you’ve clearly set when you started dating. 

“Fuck,” he rasps when he pulls away briefly, resting his head against the cushions of the sofa as he closes his eyes. “Baby, we’ve gotta stop or else I might just cave and fuck you.”

You simper. “You’re the one who started this.”

“Yeah, and that’s why I’m putting a stop to it before I end up doing something you don’t like!”

You shift around on his lap for a moment and Wonwoo is convinced that you’ll give him some reprieve and get off of him before he loses his mind. But then he realizes you’re grinding your hips against the hard-on he’s sporting in his sweats. 

Chuckling to yourself, you pull him by the front of his shirt—pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth before leaning into his ear to whisper:

“What if I want you to fuck me, Woo?”

The deep growl that resonates in his throat sounds so fucking hot, you can feel a gush of slick surge between your thighs. He doesn’t say a word—merely opting to keep his hard stare on yours as he wraps your legs around his waist. You immediately get the gist and hold on tight to him as he carries you out of the living room and into his bedroom.

“I’m giving you a chance to back out again, sweetheart,” he sighs as he kicks the door shut behind him. “Think you can handle it when I get serious about fucking you until you can’t walk?”

The mental image he conjures in your head has you mewling in his arms, prompting you to pepper his neck with sloppy kisses as he gropes your ass like it’s always belonged to him. 

“Think you can actually make good on that though?” you challenge with a soft chuckle, grazing your teeth just below his collarbone. You won’t bite—knowing that his stylists will give him hell for it if he shows up to work with hickeys. “We both know you like to talk big sometimes.”

Wonwoo breathes out a condescending chuckle before gently easing you on top of the mattress. You didn’t think it was possible, but you swear you get even wetter when he takes off his glasses and licks his lips at the sight of you.

“Oh, baby, you’re in for a fucking ride.”

That’s how you find yourself with your back pressed against Wonwoo’s insanely sculpted chest—both your mouth and pussy stuffed with his thick fingers as he works you open enough to take his cock. He slides those thick digits in and out of your wet channel, making sure you get used to the stretch all while he muffles your noises at the same time. 

Normally, he likes hearing you get whiney and desperate for him, but there’s a charm to seeing you slobber all over his fingers as you clench up around the ones buried in your pussy. 

“Fuck, baby. So goddamn tight for me,” he whispers huskily in your ear and the sound of his rough voice layered with the lewd squelch of your cunt makes your insides tingle. “Been thinking about having this pretty pussy all to myself for a while now. You gonna let me have it now, baby? Let me wreck you on my cock?”

Wonwoo easily has the hottest voice you’ve ever heard in your entire life. While you often think about how you can fall asleep happily just listening to him talk about anything under the sun, it’s an entirely different story when he’s spouting all this filth into your ear as he prepares you for an overdue dicking down. 

“Yes, please—” You sob pathetically when he takes his fingers out of your mouth, curling your arm behind you so you can blindly grab his hair and mend your lips into a messy kiss. “Wonwoo, I need you so bad.”

“Desperate little thing,” your boyfriend chuckles before withdrawing his fingers from your needy hole. The loss has you writhing in his lap, one hand shooting out to keep him where you want him but Wonwoo coos into your ear as if to pacify you. “Shhh, baby, I need you to come first before I fuck you. You’ll be good for me and let me make you come, right?” 

Shit. Who are you to refuse when he propositions you like that?

“I need an answer, sweetheart.”

“I’ll be good,” you gasp almost immediately as your boyfriend starts parting your pussy lips with the hand that was muffling your cute noises. “I’ll be so good for you, please just—”

“Just what, baby?” Wonwoo teases and you nearly cry.

“M-Make me come on your fingers…”

He hums, slick fingers gliding along your slit. “Not if you don’t say—”

“Please,” you whimper before grinding your pussy against his hand. “Wonwoo, I wanna come. Wanna come so bad. Want you to stuff me full of your cock. Want you to—” 

It’s almost like he tapped in on every single nerve ending in your body when his dexterous fingers find your clit—rubbing the puffy bud in fast, tight circles as you start twitching in his arms. Wonwoo lets out another evil laugh as he forcibly pries your legs apart. The firmness of his grip leaves you no choice but to thrash around as he builds your orgasm from the ground up, trailing wet kisses along the column of your throat as he teases an orgasm out of you with the sound of his voice coupled with his sinful ministrations.

“So wet and ready for me. Have you thought about taking me inside this sweet little pussy? Do you think you can even fit me when you’re this tight?” he breathes into your ear and you don’t even have the dignity to bite down your moans anymore. “You’re so close, sweetheart. Let yourself go and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll blow your pretty back out over and over until you’re sick of me.”

Never, you want to tell him. I’ll never get sick of you, stupid Wonwoo.

Funnily enough, that silent jab at him is quickly followed by a mind-numbing release. It washes over you like a storm surging into a calm shore—overloading every cell in your body with pleasure until the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a broken rendition of your lover’s name. 

Wonwoo talks you through your high because he knows you’ve got a thing for his voice. Knows just how much tighter you get when he whispers filthy words with a sultry sweet tone. 

And when he growls, “Good fucking girl,” into your ear, you’re convinced he just made you come again while still riding the waves of your first orgasm. 

For all his vigor, Wonwoo is surprisingly patient with you as you recover from what he just put you through. He plants brief kisses all over your neck and face until your breathing finally evens out and you stop seeing stars in the seams of your vision. Your boyfriend offers up a gentle smile when you finally come to—leaning in to kiss your nose.

“You still want more?” he whispers, exercising enough restraint to be revered despite the fact that you can feel his hard, leaking cock pressed against the small of your back. 

A soft, somewhat weak laugh makes its way past your lips as you turn around to peck his lips. Wonwoo smiles against your mouth and you can’t help but do the same.

Then, you issue another challenge.

“Do your worst.”

You’re grateful now more than ever that Wonwoo is the easiest person to talk to in the entire world. You can practically count the things that he wouldn’t want to discuss with you on one hand alone. 

In other words, you’ve already had the necessary conversations about sex, should you ever have it with him in the future (A.K.A., right now). Wonwoo knows you’ve been on birth control ever since you moved to Seoul all those years ago. He knows that you get yourself tested at least once every month if you can and assures you that he does the same.

On the other hand, you’re well aware that your boyfriend has a thing for coming inside, and now that you’ve gone this far with him, you’ll gladly let Wonwoo make his fantasies a reality. 

He only agreed to it once you promised to tell him whenever you feel like he’s going too far or if he’s doing something you don’t like. You swear you would’ve married him on the spot, if it weren’t for that tiny voice in your head that suspiciously sounds like Haewon telling you off for losing it over a man who’s doing the bare minimum.

With those measures in place, you feel safe enough to let Wonwoo press your face down onto the mattress as his free hand grips your ass—fucking into your tight cunt as he tries (and fails) to keep himself from being too rough with you. 

He really, really wanted to be gentle, considering it’s your first time to lie together like this. But your unfiltered reactions do nothing but test both his patience and self-control in more ways than one. All his plans on making love to you in good old missionary have been tossed out of the window now that you’ve given him the green light to actually fuck you until you can’t walk.

“Wonwoo,” you moan, fists curling into the sheets as he cants his hips deeper and deeper—the head of his cock hitting spots your own fingers could never hope to reach. “S-So fucking good…”

“Yeah?” he breathes raspily before leaning down to press his chest against your back, wanting to engulf you in the heat of his body until it’s all you’ll ever know. “My pretty baby loves my cock that much? You want me to fuck you all the time now?”

“Uh huh.” You nod before letting out a high pitched keen when he amps up the speed of his thrusts—slamming his hips harder against your ass.

Wonwoo thinks he could really get used to the sight of your pretty pussy sucking him in like this. You’re so greedy—clamping down on him as tightly as you do as you moan his name like it’s the only word in your vocabulary. But how could you not when each vein that runs along the underside of his perfect cock drags so deliciously across your velvet walls? When his balls—hot and heavy and full of enough cum to fill you to the brim—keep clapping against your pussy with each powerful thrust?

It’s the first time that you got to get a taste of what your boyfriend is capable of in bed and you can only imagine every instance that will follow once all’s said and done.

When he feels your walls start to spasm around his length every now and again, Wonwoo presses a sloppy kiss across the cut of your jaw—a hand sliding between your thighs so he can find that little bundle of nerves that made you fall apart only several minutes ago. Your reaction is immediate—crying and squirming below him even when you’re helpless against his massive frame pressing you down into the bed. 

“I’m so close, baby,” he groans into your ear, holding out for as long as he can just so he can feel the sensation of you coming around his cock. “You’re almost there, too, aren’t you? My good girl—taking my dick like it’s always been yours. Can you come with me? You can do that for me, right, sweetheart?”

The fondness in his voice strings you even further apart and you’re nothing but a mess of pleasure and delirium as Wonwoo continues his assault on your poor, abused clit. He knows just the right amount of pressure to use and manages to time his thrusts with each delicious pass on that oversensitive bud.  

It’s all over before you know it. 

You let out a long-winded moan that will definitely earn him a couple of noise complaints from the neighbors but Wonwoo doesn’t have it in him to fucking care at the moment. Not when your walls are clamping down so tightly around his cock—making each stroke all the more tantalizing as your pussy milks him for everything he’s got to give you. 

You mindlessly babble a string of I love yous against the sheets, a trail of drool dripping onto the mattress as Wonwoo fucks into you with heightened ferocity. He catches every single word you say and he tilts your head to the side so he can kiss you. Your boyfriend forces your tongue into a dance with his own until his hips stutter and stop—white hot emission surging into your cunt in thick spurts that he hopes would stay inside you for days if he can help himself.

You’re a mess—face painted with a fucked out expression as your pussy leaks with a mixture of yours and Wonwoo’s cum. The mere sight of it is almost enough to make him hard again, but he tells himself that he can take you up on marathon sex next time.

For now, he just wants to clean you up and tuck you back into bed.

“Woo?”

He turns to face you with a questioning look. Your boyfriend just finished with your mandatory aftercare session and is in the middle of making the bed comfortable enough for some post-sex cuddles. “Hmm?”

“You’re still free next week right?” you ask, drawing silly shapes on his chest with your finger once he finally lays down next to you.

“Yeah. I don’t have any major schedules until…” He pauses before conjuring up an imaginary calendar in his mind. “Next month. Why?”

Despite all the debauchery you’ve subjected each other to in a single night, your face still flushes as you consider what you’re about to ask him. Wonwoo smiles at that. Cute.

“How do you feel about flying to Jeju with me so I can introduce you to my family?” you ask shyly, gulping with a nervous laugh. “I totally get it if your management won’t allow it though. It’s hard to keep the media off your back when you’re so famous and—”

He doesn’t do this often, but Wonwoo shuts you up with a firm kiss.

“What are you talking about?” he murmurs, caressing your face tenderly. “Of course I want to meet them.”

When your eyes light up at his confirmation, Wonwoo swears that he couldn’t be more in love.

Me [11:23]: hae, i’ve got good news~

Haewon 🪷 [11:24]: You’re bringing Mingyu with you to Jeju so we can get married?

Me [11:26]: very funny

Me [11:26]: not to spoil your delusions or anything but i’m bringing my boyfriend

Haewon 🪷 [11:30]: Omg… 

Haewon 🪷 [11:30]: Rudeness aside, is it the same guy from before? 

Me [11:31]: yep

 Haewon 🪷 [11:32]: AAAAAAAAA

 Haewon 🪷 [11:32]: I can’t wait to meet him!

 Haewon 🪷 [11:34]: He better be treating you right or I’ll drop kick him off Jusangjeollidae

Me [11:40]: you’ve already met him though~

Haewon 🪷 [11:41]: ?

Haewon 🪷 [11:45]: Unnie, what do you mean…

Haewon 🪷 [12:32]: Hey!!!!

⟢ end notes: if you've made it til the end, congrats! this is the last of the doting on you! series (for now~) and i really hope you enjoyed reading through it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! special thanks to all the friends that read through this for me T T i wouldn't have done it without any of you ueueue and to everyone that has been patiently waiting for me to put up the last installment for the series, thank you for waiting <3 i hope you guys continue to support me with my future work as well!

this is part of the doting on you! series.

[sailorsoons]

Hush (c.sc)

PAIRING: Incubus!Choi Seungcheol x afab reader

SUMMARY: You can’t seem to sleep, but the strange man in the bar that you can’t seem to stop visiting promises he can help. 

WC: 6,239

AU: Supernatural

GENRE: Smut, PWP

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

WARNINGS: Mentions of insomnia including side effects like exhaustion, dysfunction, derealization, feeling out of it/in weird headspaces, time is not supposed to feel linear in this and it’s supposed to feel kind of liminal-space in places, reader is often confused/thoughts are a little scattered and feels out of it because of proximity to an entity, there are creepy vibes in this, Seungcheol doesn’t always appear the same/mentions of feeling like in danger or on edge around him instinctually, explicit language, sexually explicit content including unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, a lot of spit and cum, nipple play, reference to subspace or an adjacent, choking, oral (f. and m. receiving) multiple orgasms, biting and scratching, I wouldn’t categorize this as explicit dom/sub dynamics but there are power dynamics in some places, mean Seungcheol in spots, like very light humiliation if you squint in one section, overall just…. Weird ass vibes and recurring scenes/reader not remembering things. 

A/N: This was originally requested for my Haliween writing event by @daechwitatamic on my old blog. Hopefully you all enjoy sleep demon Seungcheol just as much the second time!

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NOTHING FEELS REAL. Your eyes burn as you stare at the computer screen, the letters and the buttons on your email becoming blurry as they swim out of focus. The dull sounds of your office feel as though they’re several rooms over, faint hums heard through walls of plaster. 

Pushing away from the desk, you head to the break room, in desperate need of coffee. You know drinking caffeine this late in the afternoon will only further exacerbate your insomnia, and yet you need it if you’re going to get through the next three hours at work.

You’ve hit the point in your endless nights of no sleep where everything feels off, like you’re experiencing things in the third person. You’re there but you don’t feel like it, navigating your day knowing that it’s you doing and saying things at work without really registering that you’re doing or saying those things. 

Coffee hisses from the machine into your cup. You stare at it, vision going unfocused again as the smell wafts up to you. Time passes. You stand and stare. 

Someone walks into the room, bringing you back to reality as you look over your shoulder and see your coworker come in to fill up their water bottle. They raise their brows at you as though to ask if you’re okay, and you grin, gesturing to the coffee like that’s some sort of answer.

Really, you’re not okay. You have ventured past the threshold of tired into something else entirely. Something that is lesser than, something base and nearly inhuman. 

Derealization. It’s a word your doctor had used when you described what it was like for you after so many nights without sleep, the disconnected feeling to the world around you. Even as you walk to your desk, it doesn’t feel real. You logically know that it is, that you exist in a specific time and space.

And yet… you remain buoyed in that space, totally untethered from everything around you. Floating. Lost. 

Back at your desk, the words on the computer screen blur again. Come into focus. You type and email. The keyboard makes sounds, but you don’t really register them. 

At some point, the day ends. 

A bright neon sign burns against the darkness of the alleyway. You blink rapidly, holding your hand in front of your eyes to block out some of the light. Looking around, you don’t see anyone else. The sound of the city is muted and far away, but you smell the burning of fuel and the smell of stagnant water under a dripping window air conditioning unit. 

You don’t remember walking here. You lower your hand as your eyes adjust to the burning pink above the door. Looking down at your clothes, you’re at least relieved to discover you put on jeans and a t-shirt before going out on an adventure out on the town.

Police sirens wail in the distance. You pull your phone out of your back pocket, thankful you brought it. 

“Fuck,” you swear, flashing the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning and you know immediately you’ve sleepwalked your way to this strange, unfamiliar alleyway. 

It’s a vicious circle: go days without sleep feeling like you’re a step away from death, or take just enough sleep medication to knock you out but make you sleepwalk. 

Shoving your phone in your pocket, you look back up at the neon sign, reading it for the first time. Hush. A shiver goes down your spine at the name, eyes flicking to the blue crescent moon attached to the pink cursive. 

There’s a magnetism about the sign. Your eyes dropdown to the door under it, a nondescript metal entrance to what you think is a bar. There’s nothing to indicate that it is a bar, just a gut feeling. Your gut feeling is also whispering at you to go inside, to open the door and step into the cool space of Hush. 

Licking your lips, you take one hesitant step forward. The tingling in your spine increases and you feel static in the air. Heart racing, you take another step. Then another. Before you realize it, you’re at the door with your hand on the knob, cool to the touch.

With a deep breath, you pull the door open and step inside. 

It’s even darker inside than the alleyway. Gentle piano music plays somewhere in the room and you swivel left and right, trying to gain your bearings as your eyes adjust. When they do, you see a very small room with a single piano in the corner, two booths, a bar at the back, and three stools pulled up to its counter.

A single person sits at the bar. You hesitate in the entrance, drinking in the stranger. It appears to be a man in a dark purple suit, his broad shoulders hunched over where he leans against the wooden bar top. You can’t make out much else beyond the wide shape of his shoulders and narrow taper of his waist, but you can see the crimson hair that glows like flame underneath the dull, flickering light above his head.

“You gonna stand there all night?” His voice is soft, a gentle pur. He turns his head to the side, his profile shadowed. “I don’t bite.” You hear the smirk in his voice when he tacks on, “Not often, anyway.” 

Carefully, you approach the bar. There doesn’t appear to be a bartender of any sort or anyone else in the bar, for that matter. You realize that there’s piano music but no pianist, but decide not to focus on it as you enter the man’s line of focus. 

When he looks at you, the world stops. It’s like stepping into a bubble, everything else ceasing to exist. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end and you feel your pulse hammer in your throat as you stare at him, unable to take your eyes off him.

He’s beautiful but it’s not that. His eyes are dark, but there is something more there. Something swimming in the depth of the darkness that you cannot place, something ancient and curious and awake. You feel pinned under his gaze, eyes darting to drink in the rest of his features: soft, pouty lips the color of berries, sharp jawline, thick, angular brows. 

Stunning. Dangerous. Alluring. 

“Hi,” he says, mouth stretching into a grin. His teeth aren’t sharp, but you have the distinct feeling that they should be. “You’re a pretty thing.” 

“Um, hi.”

“Can’t sleep?” 

“How can you tell?”

His grin spreads, wicked and cutting. “I have a feeling about those things.” His dark eyes drop to the seat next to him. “Have a seat. Maybe I can help.”

Tentatively, you sit down next to him. “You can help me sleep?” 

“What if I said I can?” 

Sitting next to him is oppressive. His presence weighs down on you, a physical entity that you can’t see. Static buzzes in your mind and your thoughts feel a little sticky, like just being close to him disrupts your frequency. 

He smells like jasmine, immediately soothing. You feel your eyes grow heavy as you blink a few times, settling on the stool as you angle yourself toward him. 

You’d misjudged his size when you walked in. He’d seemed broad when you first walked in, but you don’t think you fully understood the width of him. The weight of him. Or maybe it just feels that way when you look at him, your perception of him flickering like a bad TV signal. 

“Tell me about your sleep problems.”

You shrug. “They’re like any other sleep problems.”

“Not all sleep problems are the same, Pretty.” 

“I suppose that’s true. I don’t really know what causes them. I just… can’t fall asleep and then I start getting worried I won’t sleep, so it makes it worse. I want to sleep so bad but it’s like… wanting to sleep only makes it avoid me more.”

“Mmm. Sleep is a fickle thing, isn’t it?” 

“My doctors give me meds but the normal dose doesn’t work and the stronger dose… makes me walk around.” 

He pouts. “You poor, sweet thing.” 

Something about his sympathy makes you flush. You sulk, looking down at the countertop as you pick absently at the peeling varnish on the wood. “I know,” you murmur. “I just want to be normal.” 

“I can help. If you want it.” 

You glance at him. His eyes are dancing dangerously. Half of you screams yes while the other screams run. You’re only vaguely aware that you’re in a bar alone with a strange man who knows you’re sleep deprived. No one would help you if you screamed. You don’t know where you would run.

His dark eyes seem to read your thoughts and he laughs, shaking his head as he turns to pick up his drink from the bar. “I’m not that sort of creature.”

“How would you help me sleep?”

“Are you accepting my help?”

His question hangs in the air between the two of you. The piano music has stopped, but you don’t remember when it did. Overhead, the light still flickers. On. Off. On. Off. Onoffonoffonoff-

“You’re under no obligation to accept.” His voice is kind. Warm. Soft like your blankets, cozy like your bed. “You’re always free to make your own decision.” 

“I want help,” you agree slowly. “I really do.”

His red mouth curves into a smile and again, you’re struck by the thought that his teeth should be sharp. “Good. I’ll help you, Pretty.” 

“What’s your name?” 

“You can call me Seungcheol.” You give him your name and he tilts his head, drinking you in. “I know.” 

“How are you going to help me sleep?”

Seungcheol finishes his drink. You watch him swallow thickly, suddenly fascinated with the way his throat bobs as he does. The smell of jasmine is overwhelming as he leans in, stopping an inch away from you.

The static increases. You feel your blood buzz pleasantly. 

“Close your eyes for me,” Seungcheol murmurs, looking at you through silky lashes. “I promise everything will be okay.” 

For a moment, you stare at him, the air charged. He doesn’t hurry you along, content to study your face with that same uncanny darkness swimming in his eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, you do what Seungcheol says, and you close your eyes. 

Sunlight wakes you up. You roll over in your bed, squinting up at the window. Your blackout curtains are open, letting the morning beam in on where you’re tangled in your comforter and sheets. 

Sighing heavily, you close your eyes again, content to lay in the warm sun. Just as you start to drift to sleep again, you recall a pair of dark eyes and fiery hair. You jolt upright, heart hammering as you remember the exchange. 

Snatching your phone from your nightstand, you open your walking app to look at where the hell you went last night, but there’s nothing there. Frowning, you pull the sheets off your body. You’re in pajamas and fuzzy socks that you don’t remember putting on. 

Hauling yourself out of bed, you lean halfway into the laundry basket to claw through your clothing. None of the things you wore last night are there, so you go to your closet to wrench the doors open and search. 

The shirt from last night and the exact pair of jeans are hanging, completely unworn. Your frown deepens as your confusion rises. Turning away from the closet, you open your phone again and try to get any sort of sense of where you went last night, but there’s no text threads. No signs you used public transportation. Nothing in any of your tracking apps that indicate you left at all. 

“Was it a fucking dream?” you mutter to yourself, perplexed. 

Sitting down on your bed, you try to look up Hush on the internet. You can find nothing in your city that indicates a bar or establishment like the one you discovered Seungcheol in. You even try social media to look him up - Reddit, neighborhood pages, anything to try and find the stranger from last night.

It seems Hush and Seungcheol don’t exist.

And yet… you don’t remember going to sleep last night after he agreed to help you. And you feel rested today. 

Puzzled and a little freaked out, you give up your search. A dream is a dream, and you’re content that you finally feel a little less exhausted and a little more awake. You’ll take the win, getting up to start your day with a little bit of pep in your step. 

By midday, you’ve mostly forgotten about the bar and the man in it, only remembering those dark eyes and that red hair. 

Heat creeps up your spine. You nuzzle against the warmth behind you, the smell of jasmine coaxing you deeper into the embrace. You feel the vibration of laughter against your back, your nerves tingling as you feel feather-light fingers brush up your thighs. 

“Tired?” 

Immediately you know it’s Seungcheol’s deep voice, that same velvet purr whispered right in your ear. You shake your head no, suddenly not wanting to sleep at all. You press into him further, feeling the way his arms tighten around you as he chuckles, mouth pressing chastely against the spot under your ear. 

“Liar,” he teases. 

You pout. It might be true, but he could have the decency to pretend it’s not. You open your eyes and look up at him. His hair is like spilled blood in the dark of your room. The curtains are closed, blocking out all light from the moon and street, but your salt lamp still burns in the corner. 

Seungcheol looks like the devil in the low, orange light. He’s in a black t-shirt, which is somehow more deadly than the fine cut suit. Your stomach flutters and you squeeze your thighs shut when you realize his hands are brushing up and down your thighs, touch slow. 

“Thought you were a dream,” you mumble, words a little thick. “Thought you weren’t real.”

“Dreams can’t be real?” That makes you frown and he laughs, jostling you against his chest. His hands squeeze your thighs and you let out a breathy sound as he nudges you with his nose. “You don’t know anything about dreams, Pretty. Can I show you?” 

More than anything you want him to show you. Suddenly your desire for him outweighs any sort of sleepiness, your nerves sparking and coming to life as you nod helplessly against his chest, trying to lean as close as possible. 

“Needy,” he chides. He presses a wet kiss to your jawline and you preen, your head falling back against his shoulder. “I’ll go easy so you remember this time, alright?” 

“Cheol.” 

The nickname sounds familiar. Intimate. Like you’ve said it before - something tells you that you have said it before. You don’t remember where or when, but it’s with familiarity that you moan the nickname again as he nips at your neck, one hand drifting between your legs to pry them open. 

He murmurs praise against your ear when your legs drift apart, spreading to accommodate his seeking touch. You’re wearing shorts but it feels entirely too hot under the blankets pooled around your waist. You kick at them and whine, managing to get them down to your knees before he huffs and presses forward, temporarily bending you in half to toss them. 

When he settles back against your headboard, you follow him, turning your head to press your mouth to the corner of his. His lips twitch in a smirk, shifting to catch your mouth fully with his. 

Seungcheol kisses you like he knows how you like to be kissed - devouring, consuming, hungry. His tongue brushes against yours as he drinks you in as his hand presses between your leagues, applying pressure to your clothed cunt.

You whine into the kiss and he grins against your mouth. A line of spit connects your lips when you pull away panting, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. His fingers circle your clit gently and your hips buck in his hold against the stimulation. 

“Not enough,” you whisper. You grip his wrist with one hand, the other gripping the sheets to bunch them in your fist. “Cheol, please.”

“Hush,” he scolds, biting your jaw. His free hand comes up to your neck, gripping you under your jaw to angle your mouth back to his. “Kiss me.” 

You melt in Seungcheol’s grip. His tongue tastes sweet, his grip on you making you dizzy. Your thighs squeeze around his wrist as he works you up, his touch teasing and not enough through layers of fabric. 

He knows it’s not enough, content to string you along until you’re writhing against him, back shifting against his chest as you squirm. His kisses drift from your mouth to your jaw, open-mouthed and spit-slicked as his tongue darts out to taste your skin while he goes. 

Seungheol’s grip on your chin slides down toward the base of your neck, his fingers pressed tight against your pulse. You can feel your heartbeat slamming in his grasp as he bends your head away from him, lips attaching to the softness of your throat. 

His name escapes your lips in a whisper. He hums a pleased sound, tongue dragging up your neck to your ear where he nibbles. “So good for me,” he whispers. “I’ll reward you.” 

You follow with an urgent nod, pleased when his hand slides down the waistband of your shorts and underwear. When his fingers brush against the flushed, sticky folds of your cunt, you keen loudly, unable to keep it together.

“So needy.” You can’t tell if it’s an insult or not the way he growls the word against your ear, grip on your throat tightening. “Need my help that bad, huh?” 

“Yes, god.”

“I am not god,” he grinds out, voice dark. For a second, the illusion shatters and you glance up at him. His eyes are endless, an ancient thing looking back at you. You freeze in his hold, a prey caught in a trap. Then he softens, pressing a kiss to your brow. “Tell me what you need, Pretty.” 

“Hands. Need your hands.” 

A bolt of pleasure goes through you when Seungcheol’s middle finger circles your clit. Your nails dig into his wrist, leaving little crescent moons behind. His ministrations are leisurely, giving you what you want but not as fast as you want it. 

That’s Seungcheol’s game. He’ll give you what you want, only when he feels like it. You feel a sense of deja vu, realizing that you’ve been here before. Snatches of memories flash through your mind. They pass through your grip like sand, none of them firm enough to grab onto. 

“Missed you,” you mumble. “Can’t sleep without you.”

“Ah, there it is.” 

Seungcheol is pleased with your recollection. You can tell when he relents his teasing touches, fingers drifting down to press a single digit into your heat. Your stomach flips when he does, relief sweeping through you as he shallowly fucks you with a single finger.

It’s not enough but it’s better. You shiver in his hold, going a little slack in his arms, hips twitching. He’s content to have you like this, working your cunt slowly, watching your reactions as your breathing catches and restarts. 

“Feel good?” 

“So good.” You can barely get the reply out, words faint. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Pretty.” 

His kiss is soft against your cheekbone, at odds with the grip he still has on your throat. You feel his hand like a comforting weight, loving the feel of it resting against your pulse. He doesn’t squeeze or choke you, content just to hold you against him. 

Seungcheol pulls his fingers out, the wet squelch obscene. “Take this shit off for me,” he tells you, pulling at your shorts. 

His heavy hand rests on your collarbone as your hands shoot to your shorts. Hooking your thumbs in them, you shimmy down, lifting your hips with his help to kick them down your thighs and legs to the floor. 

Cool air hits your heat as you settle against his chest again. He nestles against your neck, fingers resuming the task of peeling you apart as he sinks his pointer and ring finger into you. You clench around him, loving the stretch and the feeling of his fingers pressing against your g-spot as he slowly strokes you, breath hot against your ear. 

Being unable to remember your previous encounter with him feels cruel. Seungcheol knows exactly how to work you toward your high. The slick sound of his fingers between your legs accompanied with his lips pressed against your neck drives you insane. 

Unable to keep still, your hips come up off the bed to meet his hand. The hand not fucking you to insanity slides under your shirt. Heat trails his touch. He traces the curve of your breast and your breath stutters, catching in your throat. His nails scrape against sensitive skin, moving higher until he drags his touch over your nipple. 

The heel of Seungcheol’s hand presses firmly into your clit. You mewl, thrashing against him, closer and closer to your peak. His strokes turn harsh, finger-fucking you at a brutal pace while his other hand tweaks your nipple, the pleasure-sting making you quake. 

“Come on,” he urges, voice deep. Sharp teeth scrape against your throat. “Come for me, Pretty.” 

Everything turns to static as you clench around his fingers. You squeeze so tight he can barely continue stroking you through your peak. There’s a high-pitched ring in your ears as you pant through it, vaguely aware that Seungcheol is muttering something against your ear that you don’t understand. 

As your orgasm fades, so do you. The world becomes soft at the edges. You feel Seungcheol’s heartbeat against your back and smell jasmine, but you slowly drift away from him, barely able to catch his growl of remember me next time before you’re gone. 

Cold granite countertop digs into your knees. You barely register the pain, one hand pressed flat to the counter, the other reaching behind you to tangle in Seungcheol’s hair. Your hot breath skates across the surface, the cool stone not enough to combat the heat of your skin. 

Seungcheol’s face is pressed as far as he can go into your cunt, the flat of his tongue dragging from top to bottom. You’re nearly catatonic, eyes rolling behind your eyelids as he fucks you with his tongue. 

He grunts when your fingers tighten in his hair, holding him close as he sucks harshly at you. He’s loud as he eats you out, his hunger something more demonic and fiendish than you’re used to. You don’t care, pressing back into him as he mouths at you. 

His hands firmly pry you open, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. You can feel the bruising way he holds you, uncaring as he works you toward another high, so desperate for it that you’re begging. 

Begging for what, you don’t know. None of the words that fall from your mouth really make sense. You’re a rambling disaster under the mastery of his mouth, and as you tiptoe the line of your high, it feels like you’ll never unscramble your thoughts again.

You come again, feeling the way you flood his mouth. He doesn’t care, growling low in his throat as his mouth becomes more insistent, fingers pressing into you even harder. Something takes over him in that moment, his grip on you so fierce that you think you might break.

But you don’t. You never do. 

“Pretty,” Seungcheol murmurs, cocking his head to the side. Your mouth aches where it’s stretched harshly around his cock, spit leaking from the side of your lips. His thumb brushes across the spilled fluid, grinning as he leisurely pops it into his mouth and sucks. “Such a pretty thing, mouth full of cock.”

You hum around him eagerly, shifting back and forth on your knees. He’s got you on the floor of your bedroom in front of your bed, hands linked obediently behind your back while he stands in front of you. His stomach ripples as he flexes his hips forward, driving himself deeper into your mouth.

Your throat seizes around him again and you feel yourself gag. He pouts and pulls back, letting you gasp for breath. Your mouth is a mess of saliva and cum, wet and sore and battered. You don’t care, looking up at him with watery eyes and sticky lips.

“So important to me,” he whispers, nodding as though to assure you. Your stomach flips and you shuffle toward him eagerly, mouth open. “So perfect for me.” 

Instead of using words, you stick your tongue out, eager. Seungcheol grins and the room darkens. There is a buzz in the back of your mind that you can’t place, ignoring the feeling in favor of watching him slowly slide back in, letting your tongue scrape the bottom of his shaft.

Seungcheol sighs, tilting his head back as he sets a slow pace, using your mouth as he pleases. He’s beautiful like this, all tan skin, heaving chest, sweat sliding down his neck, red hair damp. His eyes are closed but his mouth is open, cherry lips parted sweetly to show his sharp little fangs as he pants. 

So pretty, you think. Even with teeth sharper than they should be.  

You’re standing in front of a bar named Hush. The pink neon burns bright against the gritty night, hurting your eyes. Turning around in a circle, you notice there’s no one else in the alleyway. There’s a certain charge to the air, a hum that you can’t place, but grows stronger when you turn to face the bar again. 

A single door sits under the sign, closed and waiting to be opened. Chewing your bottom lip, you stride toward the door, unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side. 

With a hard yank, you pull the door open and step into the darkness of the room beyond. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the single, flickering light over the bar, but once they do, you see it’s a tiny room. A single piano sits in the corner near two booths, and there’s only one bar top in the back, a few stools in front of it. 

A single man sits at the bar but he’s facing you, leaning back on his elbows as he drinks you in. He’s in a purple suit that would look ridiculous on anyone else, and his red hair is bright enough to light the night like a flame. 

He cocks his head to the side, a wicked smirk on his lips. “Hi,” he greets. “Can’t sleep?”

“How can you tell?” 

“I’m familiar with these things.” 

He looks like a devil. You can’t place your finger on what exactly about his face makes you think so. His eyes are dark as the depths of the ocean and when he smiles, you swear his teeth are sharp. “Need some help?” 

You do need help sleeping. The doctors can’t help you. Therapy doesn’t help you. Something tells you maybe this stranger can help you. 

“Please.”

“It would be my pleasure, Pretty.” 

“Seungcheol,” you gasp, hand flying to his wrist to grip him. “Fuck, holy shit.” 

Fuck is absolutely right. His hand tightens around your throat, placed just right to make it harder for you to breathe. Your thoughts swim as he fucks into you, his sweaty chest sliding against your back as his strokes grow harsher. 

Your knees slide on the bed under the strength of his thrusts. He growls at you to keep up and you whimper, flexing your thighs to remain upright as he drives his cock into you at a pace that sends you hurtling toward your peak. 

“So fucking difficult,” he grunts in your ear. His teeth nip your ear lobe and you whine, intoxicated by the smell of jasmine and the tightening knot in your stomach. “You’re always so difficult.” 

You don’t know what he means by that, but you don’t think it’s the first time you’ve heard something like that from him. Your thoughts turn to liquid you come around him though, feeling the way you grip his cock like a vice, seizing in his hold.

Everything turns to nothing. You can’t hear, see or feel anything but static. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but squeeze and squeeze and squeeze.

And then you're gasping for air, lungs burning as you gulp it down. Falling forward, you crash into the sheets and into complete darkness. 

“Why do you come and go so often?” 

Seungcheol lifts his head from the bed to turn and look at you. He’s still naked and covered in a sheen of sweat, crimson hair clinging to his forehead. He’s on his stomach laying opposite of you, his head by your feet. 

Something sparks in his eyes at your question, his heavy brows pulling together, cherry lips downturning. “I only come as often as you let me.” 

“What do you mean?”

His face twitches in what you think might be annoyance. “You have a complicated relationship with me.” 

“We have a relationship?” 

He snorts and turns away from you, resting his chin on his arms as he settles back down, closing his eyes. He reminds you of a cat - a particularly dangerous cat, you think. “I suppose. Most people couldn’t say they have a relationship with me, and yet I keep letting you invite me back.”

“Invite you?” 

“Hush. Stop asking questions.” 

“But I don’t… understand.” 

“Good,” he quips. “Because every time you do, you send me away only to invite me back in.” 

“Come on,” Seungcheol teases. “You wanted it, so do the work.” 

Your thighs ache. A pitiful sound leaves you as you nod, putting your hands on Seungcheol’s shoulders as you lift your hips, legs shaking. You’re exhausted and burned out, but the ache you need filled as you slowly slide up his cock drives you to keep going. 

Dropping back down in his lap, you feel sparks. Your movements are slow. Seungcheol’s hands are tucked behind his head where he leans back on your pillows, fathomless eyes watching you as you ride him, a little uncoordinated and weak from the exertion he’s put you through all evening.

“Cheol, my thighs,” you protest, instead trying to grind into him. He raises a brow and you pout. “Please.”

“No. Come on, Pretty, you can do it. You can fuck yourself on my cock and make yourself come. Come on.” 

“Cheol.”

“No. Do it yourself.” 

Gritting your teeth, you let your annoyance fuel you. Anger burns right alongside pleasure as you find the strength to do exactly as he tells you. Leveraging your hold on his shoulders, you continue to spear yourself on him at a steady pace and slowly, your anger is replaced with bliss.

Seungcheol feels incredible. He’s hard to take, stretching you to the max and at this position, he’s so deep that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You keep going, nails biting into his skin and drawing blood but you don’t care. 

Fire burns in his eyes as he watches you. You stare right back, seething at the way he’s making you do it yourself, a little bit of humiliation stinging the edges of your pride. You can tell he thrives on this, satisfied that what you want outweighs any sort of desire to be stubborn.

Somehow, he always wins like this. Always manages to get you to do what he wants. He’s sneaky like that, knowing just what button to press to get you where he wants you. 

Sometimes you feel like you’re a puppet whose strings are connected to his fingertips. 

Either way, you manage to drive yourself to an orgasm, shuddering around him as you seat yourself fully in his lap, throbbing around him. He lets out a long groan, eyes fluttering shut as he struggles to keep his composure.

Leaning back against his knees, you catch your breath. He’s still painfully hard inside of you, and when his eyes open, you see his hunger isn’t sated. Your heart lips when he surges forward, fast as an adder. His mouth crashes into yours hungrily and you let him have you, eager at the flutter in your stomach as he shifts, altering the angle. 

“I’m not done,” he mutters, kisses turning into sharp bites. “So hush while I take what’s mine.” 

Something wakes you up from sleep. It’s too dark in your room to see, but your heart is hammering and your hands are quivering. Leaning toward your nightstand, you search for your phone. All you feel is cool wood, no device anywhere.

The dark is oppressive. You don’t remember your room being this dark, the blackout curtains serving as a good device to keep out the city and streetlights, but never so much that you feel swallowed whole. Lost. Devoured.

A tingle buzzes at the back of your neck. You freeze in bed, looking into the never ending darkness. Silence roars in your ears, the outside world completely removed. You can’t even hear your own pulse or breath, the quiet so heavy that panic starts to rise in your throat.

You can’t see but you know you’re not alone - can feel the solid press of something else in the room. 

Too afraid to make noise, you resume the search for your phone, fingers moving slowly across the top of your night stand. You can’t find it. 

Something presses into the mattress at the end of your bed. You feel the dip under its weight but can’t hear the creek of springs. You give up the search for your phone, snatching your hand to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.

It’s a dream, you tell yourself. It’s a dream it’s a dream it’s a dream it’s- 

The thing in your room moves closer. A scream works its way up your throat where it gets stuck, lodged and unmoving. You squeeze your eyes shut harder, fireworks of color exploding behind your eyelids as you do. 

“I know you’re awake, Pretty.” The voice is so low you can barely make out the words. They scrape against you like claws. “You can’t keep doing this,” it says, almost a sigh in its voice. “You know what this is. What I am.” 

“Go away,” you whisper, voice weak. “Leave me alone.”

“Don’t do this again.” 

“Go away, Seungcheol.” 

There’s a low growl that you can feel as it vibrates the air. “As you wish.”

The neon sign above the door says Hush. It burns bright and pink against the night sky. You look around, unsure how you got here. Sighing, you pull out your phone to check the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning, which means you’re probably a victim of your sleep walking again. 

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you look up at the sign again. There’s a little blue moon to accompany the pink cursive neon, and though you don’t think you’ve ever seen this bar before, there's a magnetism about it that draws you in. 

Curious, you walk up to the door and go in. The lights are dim and you have trouble seeing at first, but you can make out that there’s a piano in the corner, two booths and a small bar with some stools. A man sits at the bar, his back turned to you. 

“We’re closed,” he grumbles without turning to look at you. You frown, cocking your head as you drink him in. 

The purple suit he wears is an odd choice. His hair is the color of blood, slicked back and a surprisingly nice contrast to the bright color of his suit. A single light flickers above him, painting him in a gold hue.

“What is this place?” you ask, ignoring the fact that it’s closed. 

He doesn’t answer for a second. You think he’s going to ignore you, but finally he says, “Do you have trouble sleeping?” 

You’re surprised by the question. “Yes, actually.” 

“I can help.” 

“Really?” You step further into the bar, watching as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. He is painfully pretty, the kind of beauty that reminds you of old paintings of Lucifer. “How?” 

“Are you accepting my help?” 

Without hesitation you answer, “Yes.” 

His cherry red lips twitch and he shakes his head. Picking up his drink, he polishes it off before standing to turn you fully. The weight of his presence presses down on you like an invisible blanket, weighing you down.

“Of course you do.” He strides toward you and though your instincts tell you to run, something else tells you to stay. He looks down at you with a pair of eyes that threaten to swallow you whole if you let them. His lashes are silky and long, a delicate balance to his heavy gaze. “You always need me, right, Pretty?” 

You nod, a word - a name - buzzing on your tongue as he looms over you. “Please,” you whisper, thoughts a little cottony, a little dizzy. “Seungcheol.”

He grins, revealing sharp teeth. “Hush,” he murmurs. “You’re mine.” 

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[neochan]

THE PROMISCUOUS TUTOR (M) | PART ONE

SERIES MASTERLIST LINK | remember this is part three and a half of a series! read part one & two for context!

PAIRING | tutor!jaemin x reader

SYNOPSIS |  na jaemin is too sexy to be holed up in the campus library, but once you catch wind of what he does between the shelves, you know it’s your time to see just how well his reputation proceeds him.

WC | 15.3k

WARNINGS | cursing, mentions of alcohol, sexual comments, vouyerism, explicit smut, choking, hair pulling, so sorry to the jaehyun stans this chapter :(, pink-haired jaemin. mc does some hoe shit idk.

A.N | tumblr is being stupid and won't let me put it all in one part, so i'm splitting it into two. the next part will be linked on the masterlist / uploaded in a few! please send asks after you finish reading. i want to hear your thoughts!

Typically, the University dining hall is one of the loudest places on campus at any given time.

However, you’re becoming increasingly aware of how eerily silent it is at the ass crack of dawn – and how unbelievably loud Jaemin is.

It’s one thing if he was whisper-yelling about midterms coming up, but the dude was dishing some very personal details while sifting through a pan of scrambled eggs. And there was no whispering.

None.

None at all.

Jaemin wanted to make sure you heard his frustration. So, loud and proud, with his entire chest, he piles a heaping serving of eggs on his plate while conversating at the top of his lungs.

“...then we flipped positions, but she got the angle wrong and bent my dick–”

Jaemin's voice carried across the dining hall, prompting you to offer an apologetic smile to the staff member stationed at the food line. However, he just yawns tiredly and turns around to continue flipping pancakes on the griddle.

They obviously didn’t get paid enough to care about Jaemin and his dick bending episode, so you moved along behind the boy, piling up your own plate with the dining halls incredibly mid breakfast.

“. . . and I didn’t even mean to fall asleep, but we went so many rounds I just closed my eyes for two seconds, next thing I know it’s five am and I wake up to Haechan calling me –”

The mention of his name makes your head snap up. “Haechan?”

Jaemin stops at the soda machine and pours a cool glass of Gatorade into a clear plastic cup. “Yeah, he was totally freaking out, wondering why I hadn’t come home.” He chuckles before moving on to find a table. You grab a water bottle and scurry to keep up. “Like I don’t disappear for pussy all the time.”

At this early hour, you could have had your choice of seats in the café, but in typical Jaemin fashion, he zeroed in on an elevated platform encircling the main dining area. It was a nice spot – next to a cluster of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the quad and few academic buildings. But again, at this hour, especially with it being a Sunday, there wasn’t much to look at. Just a few workers maintaining the lawn and a solitary squirrel.

It wasn’t like you were going to be staring out the window much though. His words had captured any wandering attention.

"...and he asked if I had heard from you, which is why I texted.” Jaemin scoops up a hearty forkful of scrambled eggs and eagerly pops it into his mouth, a mischievous grin forming on his lips.

The jolt of surprise that courses through your veins is unmistakably reflected in your expression. "Me? Why would he be asking about me?" you blurt out, your nerves getting the best of you.

Shit.

So Haechan had woken up and noticed your absence. A pang of guilt tightens your chest and makes you cringe on the inside. What a shitty thing to do. Take his virginity and then all but bail on him.

But he was cool with it being a one-time thing, you argue with yourself.

Jaemin interrupts your internal debate through a mouthful of pineapple, “I don’t know but he seemed kinda mad. You didn’t piss him off, did you?”

To avoid an immediate answer, you shove a forkful of syrup slathered pancakes into your mouth and chew slowly. When you swallow, it feels like a lump is stuck in your throat. But maybe that was just your guilty conscience trying to choke the life out of you.

“I don’t think I did anything.” You shrug, the words sounding less convincing than you’d hoped. A thought pops into your head, diverting the conversation momentarily, “Wait. You went home to shower, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

You lean in a bit, your tone hushed, “So… did you see him?”

Jaemin cards a hand through his faded pink hair and shakes his head, “I mean yeah, but he just said good morning and shut his door. I invited him to breakfast, but I don’t think he heard me.”

As his words sink in, a mix of relief and concern mingles within you. The last thing you needed was Haechan tagging along to a morning-after-breakfast. That would have made things mega awkward.

The boy you had just fucked and the boy you were wanting to fuck. Add in the fact that they had no idea you were even completing this stupid drunk-induced challenge…

Oh yeah, the challenge. Why the hell did it keep skipping your mind? Like it wasn’t the very thing that got you in this position.

Just the thought of it… well, it made your mind wander (as if it hadn’t been wandering this entire time). And somehow it landed on just how good Jaemin looked this morning. 

He obviously had the after-sex glow - his skin was looking smooth and radiant, eyes bright, and lips a subtle shade of darker pink. The thought of why they were puffy made your thighs quiver - and underneath the dining table, you have to squeeze them together just to breathe properly again.

Was it from Yeji biting them last night? Passionate kisses turning into something much more aggressive? Could it be from him pushing open her thighs and coaxing her through ecstasy with just his tongue? 

The vulgar thoughts circle your brain while you take in the rest of his sleepy, early morning outfit. A bright red hoodie hangs off his shoulders, covering any sort of muscle definition your eyes were itching to see. Not that it truly mattered – your memory was still pretty vivid from the party two nights ago. However, that night, your focus had been solely on Hyuck, which now seemed like an unfortunate missed opportunity.

Especially when he gets up to dump his plate in the dirty dish bin, and your eyes follow his tight cargo pants. What exactly was hiding beneath the black fabric? 

Technically, you already knew thanks to the video he shared the night all this challenge stuff was created.

But a little reminder couldn’t hurt.

Jaemin returns to the table with a fresh glass of blue Gatorade, and when he sits down, his eyes wash over your body like he was mirroring what you were just doing. Did he catch you? Is that why he did that?

He doesn’t give any hints. Just raises an eyebrow playfully, the rim of his cup poised between his lips. "I know you were avoiding the question, but why are you up this early?" he teases, his voice a blend of curiosity and amusement.

A chuckle escapes your lips as you spear a piece of fruit with your fork. It was good to think quick in these situations, but the answer that comes out of your mouth might have been the stupidest thing you’d ever said, "I was planning to go on a run."

You don’t run. Especially not on a Sunday morning.

His lips curl into a mischievous smile, his gaze dancing with a hint of skepticism. "But your hair is wet."

Glancing down at your slightly damp hair, you feel a blush tint your cheeks. You hadn’t even realized. After your dizzying thoughts of Jaemin in the shower, you had been so excited to meet him for breakfast that you forgot to blow dry your hair, "Yeah, I showered."

Jaemin leans forward, his expression mockingly serious. "Before the run?"

Your laughter bubbles forth, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. "Well, you wanted to grab breakfast, so I thought I’d take a quick shower.”

A grin tugs at Jaemin's lips, his intrigue growing. "But you're a night showerer."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you respond, "Is this a full-scale investigation now? Am I on trial?"

Jaemin breaks into hearty laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Just trying to solve the mysteries of the morning, you know."

Relief stretched through your body like an adrenaline chaser. “Well, I hate to disappoint Mr. Detective, but there’s no mystery here. I just got up early and was gonna hit the gym, but you texted me first.” You put the fruit back onto your plate, too worked up to take a bite, “Next time, I’ll ignore your text.”

“Hey!” he frowns.

“Kidding.” You remark, “But I think I’ll skip the gym instead and take a nap. I’m not used to waking up this early…”

“Just make sure you’re at the library by one. Would hate to miss your free tutoring session.” He pushes back from the table, and you do the same, gathering all your half-eaten dishes from the world’s fastest breakfast date.

“Do you want me to pay you? I have no problems giving you cash.”

“Nah, I like helping out a friend.” He bumps your elbow as you walk down the ramp to the main dining floor. The surge of electricity that snaps through your body takes you by surprise. Maybe this breakfast was a little higher tension than you were aware of.

You drop all your dishes into the dirty dish bin and walk side by side with Jaemin out on the quad. There was still no one in sight, even as the sun started to bloom full light over the bright green shrubbery.

“Don’t say I never offered to pay.”  You giggle.

“Nah, don’t worry. If I wanted something in return, it wouldn’t be money.” He just stares at you, a deadpan look with no emotion.

You, on the other hand, have many emotions crossing your face – shock, disbelief, curiosity, intrigue.

“I’m kidding.” He snorts.

You stumble over your words, “Y-Yeah, duh.”

“Alright, I’ll catch you at one. Don’t be late!” He reminds, walking backwards as he wiggles a warning finger at you. He spins around, almost tripping over a loose brick on the pathway in the process.

As he retreats into the backdrop of trees, headed back to the boy's dormitory on the far side of campus, you find yourself wishing to follow. Maybe you could catch some sleep in his bed, enveloped by the sweet smell of Jaemin (that being hair dye and Dior Savauge).

Instead, you begrudgingly drag your feet in the opposite direction. Back to your lonely dorm where you would fall asleep in an empty bed that smelled like nothing but yourself.

“We’ve wanted this for a while.”

Haechan looks up at you from between your legs and licks his puffy lips. His finger draws lazy circles around your clit, and it feels wonderful.

You could watch him like this forever, but what drags your attention away is the second set of lips attaching to your neck. Nothing had warned you of his presence before, but now you were on full alert. He sucks bruises against your skin, hands running up and down your body until you were left shaking into his touch.

“Jaemin?”

The pink haired boy draws back and sits on his heels, a goofy grin spread out.

“Yes princess?”

Your head is on a swivel now. From Haechan’s chocolate brown eyes and mischievous smirk to the way Jaemin was eyeing your exposed chest.

“You okay sweetheart?” Jaemin takes a singular finger and tips your chin upwards, “How about you just lay back and let us take care of you.”

Haechan speaks up, “Tell us which one makes you cum harder, okay?” Two fingers pinch your clit, making you jerk against Jaemin, “Like a bet.”

Like a bet.

Like a bet.

In the hazy realm between dreams and reality, your eyes flutter open, greeted by the harsh reality of full sunlight streaming through the curtains. Panic instantly surges through you as you glance at the clock – it's later than it should be. With a sudden jolt, you sit up, your mind racing to comprehend.

The realization hits like a tidal wave: you're late for your tutoring session with Jaemin. You fumble with the sheets, untangling yourself in a hurry, and your heart pounds with each passing second. Your phone, lying neglected on the nightstand, taunts you with its unmissed alarms.

“Oh fuck.”

The room spins with the remnants of the vivid dream. Jaemin and Haechan... at the same time. Jaemin’s arms around you, Haechan between your thighs. The wetness there now seems unavoidable, but there was no time.

Your phone lights up with another text from Jaemin. Grabbing it, you hastily read through.

(1:01 PM) Manwhore: yo, you on ur way?

(1:04 PM) Manwhore: helloooo?

(1:07 PM) Manwhore: don’t tell me you forgot

(1:08 PM) Manwhore: if you don’t text me back or get here in the next five minutes, I’m literally going to fuck your roommate again.

Wish you would fuck me as a punishment, you think, but type out a different response.

(1:09 PM) Y/N: you’d fuck her anyway.

(1:09 PM) Y/N: I overslept. Be there in five.

Another glance over your messages and you realize the same roommate he was threatening to fuck has also been bombarding you with a flurry of messages.

(10:01 AM) Roomie!!: I feel like I never see you

(10:52 AM) Roomie!!: I wanted to wake you up but you weren’t here literally all night…

(11:09 AM) Roomie!!: I left you a muffin on the counter <3

(12:36 PM) Roomie!!: Can we please talk tonight? Or hangout? Or go to the movies? Literally anything??? I miss you!

You shoot her a quick message, saying sorry and promising to catch up with her tonight. Man, you've really missed her. There's this itch to spill everything, spill the beans about the stupid bet, but at the same time, you're not sure if you should. It's like walking on eggshells, ya know?

One thing was apparent though. She could never know about these filthy dreams. How desperate you were to be underneath your best friends…that was a secret you must keep.

Speaking of best friends, you had one waiting impatiently at the library for you to hurry the fuck up. No matter if you were just dreaming about him sucking on your neck.

You snatch the nearest clothes and quickly slide on your shoes in a rush. Carelessly, you throw textbooks into your backpack. Grabbing the muffin Jennie left for you on the counter, you swing your backpack over your shoulder and scramble out the door.

“Stupid fucking stairs” you mutter underneath your breath, hurtling down all five flights in a rush.

“What did the stairs ever do to you.” The voice startles you, nearly causing you to trip.

“What the hell, Haechan.” Great, the other half of your dream has just materialized. “What are you doing in the girls dorm.”

He grins, keeping pace with you down the flights. “Visiting a lady friend.”

“Truth. Now.”

He sighs, “Group project.”

“Sounds about right.” You reach the bottom of the staircase and push open the door that spills out onto the quad.

The fleeting thought of sprinting away crosses your mind, but you dismiss it. Instead, you glance over your shoulder, watching him struggle with his backpack straps. His hair is a fluffy brown mess, wind tousling it. A faded graphic design t-shirt hangs off his collarbones, with matching sweatpants that seem two sizes too big.

He's such a loser, you think affectionately.

“So…” He muses, catching up to you and bumping your arm with his elbow, “Why’d you dip this morning?” There’s a tinge of hurt in the question but you choose to ignore it.

You shrug, “Met up with Jaemin for breakfast…you were sleeping so I didn’t want to bother you.”

The campus has come alive since your last outing. Students lounge on the quad, soaking in the dwindling sunlight before fall strips away the warmth. You wish you could join them and forget about your trivial problems.

"Weird. Because he invited me too," he keeps his head down, focusing on his worn-out sneakers navigating the uneven brick paving the campus.

“He told me.” You don’t know what Haechan was getting at. Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have dipped, but…what else were you supposed to do?

“Surprised your legs are working.”

“Haechan.” You shriek, slapping his shoulder. Where the hell did that come from.

He laughs loudly, “I’m just saying. Maybe that’s why you were so mad at the stairs. Hurt a bit?” Yeah, he was feeling cocky. Confident. Cause here was this beautiful girl next to him, who just so happened to be his best friend, and who also sat on his cock last night. He felt on top of the world.

“I’m fine.” You seethe, “And just so we’re clear, we aren’t telling anyone about this.”

Bummer. He rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I know. You want to keep the best sex of your life a secret. No sweat.”

“I swear to god Haechan –”

“Oh, calm down princess. I’m not gonna tell anyone. Our little secret.” He winks at you and a hot blush spreads over your cheeks.

Fuck him and fuck his stupid pet names.

“Round two?” He braces for the swat that comes his way, another laugh slipping past his lips, “Okay, okay. I’ll stop joking around.”

You want to feel annoyed, but you're just glad to have your best friend back—the one who makes inappropriate jokes at your expense. Maybe that's greedy of you, expecting everything to go back to normal after taking his virginity.

But it’s what he wanted…. So get over it Y/N, you think.

Round two didn’t sound so bad though…especially after that stupid fucking dream you just had.

“Where you headed?” he asks, pulling on the straps of his backpack.

“Library. Jaemin’s tutoring me. And I’m late.” You reply. He was really gonna kick your ass if you didn’t hurry up.

“How great. I’m on my way there too. Gotta finish this stupid presentation.”

You glance at him, catching his face scrunch up.

“Got something else you want to say?” you question. It looked like he was physically in pain. Yet, knowing him, he was just holding himself back from saying something inappropriate.

“Promise not to hit me.”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Well…I was just gonna say, if you want help relaxing after the draining tutoring session you’re about to have…”

Bingo. You knew him soooo well.

“You’re impossible Haechan.”

“One of my redeeming qualities I must say.”

The library comes into view. Fucking finally. It felt like ages since you left your dorm.

You decide to snark back at him. “You know…on second thought.” It almost makes you feel bad the way his eyes spark up, “I would but, I got plans…”

His response is firm and unwavering. "Cancel them."

Locking eyes with him proves to be a mistake as you realize he's dead serious. "Can't, sorry," you pout.

He strides ahead, swinging open the library door with a grand gesture. You roll your eyes, heading straight for the back wall where the individual study rooms are located.

"Y/n," he whispers, silently urging you to reconsider. "Think about it."

Ignoring him, your attention is diverted when you spot Jaemin, who also catches sight of you through the glass separating the main floor from the study rooms. He rolls his eyes and taps his wrist as a mock reminder of your tardiness.

"Y/n," Haechan whines, a plea echoing the same tone as the night before.

Choosing to play with him once more, you tease, "Sorry, Haechannie. Plans, remember?" Leaning in, you cup his ear and blow a cool breath, feeling him shiver. "But you can think about me when you jerk off later."

He watches in shock as you saunter away, pushing open the study room door to apologize profusely to Jaemin. The bulge in Haechan's pants goes unnoticed until he tears his eyes away. "God damn."

Na Jaemin is disgustingly attractive.

And so, so distracting.

How were you supposed to study binomial distributions when he sat on the opposite side of the table looking like that. 

The red hoodie he had on this morning has been discarded, replaced by a t-shirt with rolled-up sleeves that showcased his toned biceps. As he shifted around the scattered textbooks, his tongue peeked out between his lips in concentration.

Jaemin’s presence plus the constant remembrance of the dream only amplified your struggle to stay focused.

Instead, your (lovely) brain decided to entertain you with intense fantasies of clawing at his biceps while you rode him. You’re sure he’s a groaner. It’s almost visual in your head, the way he’d tip his head back and growl at the feeling of you splitting yourself on his cock. You know he talks you through it too.

“Got any guesses on the size?”

"W-What?" You stammer, a twinge of anxiety hitting you, concerned you might have been caught daydreaming.

Jaemin cards a hand through his hair and smirks, “The sample size, y/n? Have you not been paying attention for the last twenty minutes?? We’re trying to solve for the sample size.” He blows air through his teeth in annoyance, “I swear it feels like I’m just doing your homework for you sometimes.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired.” You mutter, “How about I do the next five by myself and have you check over them after?”

"Sounds good. Don't hesitate to ask if you have any questions," he responds casually, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning his attention back to his own work.

It annoyed you how smart he was too. And he rarely got distracted when he was studying. It’s like he gets automatically switched to hyperfocus mode. Nothing breaks his concentration. It’s such a weird version of Jaemin, but one that you’ve grown accustomed too during the study sessions. Any other time of day and he’s chatting up girls and doing stupid dares that normally got him in trouble with the campus police. It’s happened too many times to count.

The gods favor him, you think, beauty and brains.

Your gaze inadvertently shifts to the main floor of the library. Through the transparent walls, you see Haechan sitting at his own table. He looked bored, his lips set in a pout and a crease drawn between his eyebrows. Bored and frustrated. But he also looked good as hell.

He pushes his hips up to get comfortable in the hard plastic chair he was in, and the grey sweatpants do nothing to hide the painfully obvious outline of his cock. Arousal bells start going off in your head, and you think you might just faint out of pure horniness.

You watch him pick up his phone.

A buzz sounds on the table, coming from your own phone.

(1:51 PM) Weird guy from the street: stop staring at me

There’s literally no way he could have known you were looking at him unless he had been sneaking glances at you too. The thought makes you blush.

(1:51 PM) Y/N: not staring at u weirdo

(1:52 PM) Y/N: simply looking through the window

(1:52 PM) Y/N: not my fault ur big ass head is blocking the view

You peak at him, and this time he’s looking dead at you with a big frown on his face.

(1:52 PM) Weird guy from the street: okay ouch

(1:53 PM) Weird guy from the street: but ur eyes r literally burning holes in me

(1:53 PM) Weird guy from the street: if you wanna fuck so bad, just meet me upstairs :)

A snort sounds at the back of your throat, catching Jaemin's attention as he glances up from his textbook.

"Just searching for the equation I need," you confess sheepishly, raising your phone in explanation.

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything, so you go back to texting.

(1:54 PM) Y/N: u wish loser

From the other side of the glass, you watch him throw you a middle finger.

(1:54 PM) Weird guy from the street: okay but seriously meet me upstairs

(1:54 PM) Weird guy from the street: it’s SERIOUS!!!

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: i promise 

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: swear on jeno’s hockey career

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: don’t tell him i swore on that or he’ll kick my ass again

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: just meet in the geology section.. never seen anybody up there

You send a final text

(1:56 PM) Y/N: fine, but if this is a trick, i’m kicking your ass.

Your chair emits a loud scraping sound as you push it back to stand up. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom before my brain explodes. Be right back.” You explain, and Jaemin nods.

The echo of your footsteps resonates through the quiet library as you navigate your way to the geology section. The fluorescent lights above flicker intermittently, casting occasional shadows that dance along the bookshelves. You can't help but wonder why Haechan chose such a weird ass place to meet.

Decorative rocks are showcased throughout this section of the library, and in the back of your mind you wonder who in their right mind would study geology. Rocks?

“Took you long enough.” Haechan teases, emerging from the shadows between two bookshelves. You squint at him, your eyes still adjusting to the unexpected appearance.

"Why do you have to be so extra?" you quip, recovering from the surprise. It's the second time today he's managed to catch you off guard.

"Extra is my middle name, darling," he grins, leaning casually against the shelves. You secretly wish they would give in and collapse just for the sake of a good laugh.

"Cut the dramatics, Haechan. Why am I here?" you demand, crossing your arms.

"I want to know what you’re doing with Jaemin," he deadpans, peering up through his long lashes. "Because for the past thirty minutes or so, you've been practically drooling over him." He checks his wrist adorned with a silver watch you gifted him last Christmas, "And I've been keeping track, by the way. Don't bother denying it; I've got eyes everywhere."

You roll your eyes, annoyance creeping in. "That's bordering on stalker behavior, you know."

He casually shrugs, unfazed. "Answer the question."

"I'm studying with Jaemin. What else would I be doing?" you retort, finding the situation utterly ridiculous.

"Sure, you're not one of his study buddies?" Haechan drawls, dragging out the second-to-last word and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You resist the urge to roll your eyes again, realizing you've walked right into his stupid trap.

You glare pointedly. “Just because you caught me looking at another man that isn’t you doesn’t mean I want to fuck him.”

“Oh sweetheart, I didn’t say anything about fucking him.” Haechan replies with a sly grin.

“You implied it!” You huff, jabbing him in the chest with a manicured finger.

He clutches the spot and winces at pain. “Damn your nails are sharp.”

“Why am I really up here.” You were becoming impatient. Perhaps you should have known that Haechan would waste your time. There was nothing of importance for you between these stupid, dusty, rock filled shelved.

A part of you did know it, though. And that part was practically begging Haechan to shove you against the shelves and start fucking your brains out.

You squash that part down. Deep down.

Haechan sighs and takes a tentative step backwards, “Honestly, I was bored and just wanted to mess with you.” You open your mouth to chastise him, but he cuts you off before you can, “But now that we’re on the topic of fucking Jaemin –”

“Don’t think we’re on the same topic here.” You interject.

He keeps going without missing a beat, “I just thought you should know about his....habits” His face beams in pride, as if this super-secret tidbit of information could solve world hunger.

"His habits?"

Haechan takes a step towards you, "Yeah...his dirty, filthy habits."

"What are you getting at Haechan?"

The boy in front of you, eyes you up and down before speaking slowly, "You're telling me you don't know?"

You narrow your eyes at Haechan, feeling a mix of confusion and suspicion. "Know what exactly? Stop beating around the bush and just spit it out."

Haechan smirks, relishing the moment. "I just thought you should know that he fucks girls here after hours."

“In the geology section?” You question, skepticism etching your features.

“In the library dumbass.” Haechan retorts, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. His eyes lock onto yours, daring you to challenge him.

“Yeah right.”

He stomps his foot in a childlike manner. “I’m serious.”

Your disbelief lingers. "I don't believe you. It's literally patrolled by security after hours," you assert, your arms crossing defensively over your chest.

Haechan rolls his eyes, seemingly accustomed to your skepticism. "Y/n, me and Jeno used to think Jaemin was rocking your shit back when he started tutoring you."

A wry smile creeps onto your face. "How lovely."

“I mean, now we know you just need help with stats –”

“It’s a hard subject.” You defend yourself.

Sure, you’d never been good at math like others, but statistics was a hard class. And your professor made it even more boring with her monotoned voice.

“I know, cheated my way through an A.” Haechan admits, flashing a beaming smile. “Anyways, he has an entire roster of girls he brings to the library after hours. Honestly, you’re the only girl I’ve seen him actually tutor.” The soft glow of the library lights casts a warm hue on the leather-bound volumes that surround you and you notice it illuminates the curve of Haechan’s jaw too.

“Haechan, I swear if this is a prank or a set up.”

He gives another stomp to the worn-out carpet, "Why would I be lying about this?" he insists, his expression genuinely serious. "You know what, meet me here Friday night at nine thirty."

“The library closes at eight.”

“Back entrance is always open.” He winks at you, and you playfully swat his arm. “Gonna prove that I’m not lying.”

“Whatever.”

You find yourself baffled by Haechan's sudden revelation about Jaemin's supposed "dirty habits." There's a lingering question in your mind – why is Haechan even sharing this information with you in the first place? As the absurdity of the situation sinks in, you can't help but wonder what prompted him to bring you to this secluded spot just to share peculiar details about Jaemin's life.

Is he threatened by your sudden interest - if he really was catching on to the fact that you were after Jaemin.

A few beats pass before he’s nudging your shoulder. “So?” He jostles your arm with his own until you swat at him again, “You’ll meet me here?”

“Sure, Haechan.” In truth, you had nothing better to do. And maybe you could use this to your advantage. The next part of this stupid challenge was to fuck Jaemin anyways, and what better way than to use his rendezvous spot to do so.

If Haechan was telling the truth.

“We should make out.”

You slide your eyes to his and cock your head, “In your dreams Hyuckie.”

The day was winding down, and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the university campus. You trudged back to your dorm, feeling the exhaustion from a day filled with studying and more homework than you could manage.

Echoes of distant laughter and the occasional sound of a slamming door fill the hallways as you climbed the stairs to your floor, anticipation building to catch up with your roommate, Jennie.

You didn’t mean to completely ghost her the last couple weeks, but between classes and the challenge…well, you had your mind full.

The door is swinging open before you can get your key in the lock, and you’re met face to face with her.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up! I swear I never see you anymore. You leave before I’m up and come home after I’m asleep!"

Apologizing, you step inside and close the door behind you, embracing your roommate. "I know, I know. It's been crazy lately," you admit, setting your bag down and following her to the living room.

Jennie raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me." she teased.

"Never.” It’s true. Jennie was the one person in the world who you could relax around. “So, what’s been up with you.”

She sighed dramatically, as if she'd been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and plops down on the couch. You do the same. “Sorority stuff, you know how it is. Rush week is killing me. Drama, drama, drama. Oh, and did I mention Jaehyun broke up with his girlfriend? The whole campus is losing its mind over him, including maybe me," she added with a sly grin.

Your eyes widen at the news. "Jaehyun broke up with his girlfriend? That's big news! Why did they break up?" you inquired, curious about someone else’s drama.

Maybe it could distract you from your own.

Jennie leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "No one knows for sure, but there are rumors. Apparently, she cheated on him.”

“Why on earth would she cheat on him?”

She giggles, “That’s what I’m saying! He’s like the hottest guy on campus. She’s definitely mental if she cheated on him. If he was mine…”

“Make him yours.”

“Y/N!” she giggles and playfully shoves your arm.

You break out in a smile too, “Well, if he is single, now’s your chance!”

Jennie shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Who knows?” She tugs a blanket off the back of the couch and wraps it around her thin body, “Anyways, enough about me. What’s been keeping you so busy? You haven't even had time for Mark. He's been asking about you by the way."

You sighed, feeling guilty for neglecting your friends. "Classes have been crazy, and Jaemin and I have been hitting the books together. Speaking of which, he's been a lifesaver. I wouldn't survive this semester without him."

Jennie smirked playfully. "Oh, Jaemin, huh? Is there something I should know?"

You rolled your eyes, swatting her arm this time. "No, nothing like that. He's just a great study partner."

She raised an eyebrow, a knowing expression on her face. "Sure, just a study partner?”

It funny how fast you break into a cold sweat.

“W-What do you mean?”

“I mean..” She drags the words out and for a second you think she’s gonna accuse you of sleeping with him. Or at least accuse you of having the hots for him. “I’ve studied with him. So, I know that studying doesn’t always mean studying.”

“Oh my god. You think I’m fucking him?”

I haven’t yet, you think.

“I’m just asking!”

“No, I promise he’s just helping me with stats homework.” You hold up two fingers, “Scouts honor.”

She rolls her eyes, “Look, I wouldn't blame you if you were sleeping with him. Been there done that.”

You wonder if she’s one of the girls Haechan seemed so sure Jaemin fucked in the library after hours. It’s not like you would ever ask her. But your mind wanders nonetheless.

“Trust me, I’m not.”

“Maybe you should.” She suggests in thought, “I mean he definitely knows his way around a girls body.”

You cover your eyes in embarrassment, “Oh my god, gross!”

She holds up her hands like she’d been caught, “I think you need to let loose. Just giving you a recommendation.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Speaking of letting loose, I have a sorority event this Friday, and I want you to come. It's a big reveal for my little, and I want you there."

You hesitate. "I appreciate the invite, but I'm actually hanging out with Haechan that night."

There’s a part of you that wants to add the fact that you’re really just trying to catch Jaemin in the act of fucking in the library. But with the way the conversation just went…maybe that was best kept to yourself.

Jennie's expression shifted from excitement to a subtle disappointment. "Come on! I never see you anymore. Can't you ditch Haechan for one night? It'll be a blast, and you'll get to meet some great people. Plus, you need a break from that annoying prick."

You forget that Jennie doesn’t like Haechan, recalling drunken nights where she spent hours cursing him out for embarrassing her during her own rush experience. Apparently, he was her date and got too drunk which ended in him throwing up all over her dress. It’s a miracle she got a bid for the house she wanted.

Feeling a bit guilty, you sighed. "Alright, fine. I'll come. But only because you're my best friend, and I miss spending time with you."

Jennie's face lit up, and she practically squealed in delight. "Yes! It's going to be so much fun. You won't regret it."

The night stretched on with the two of you quickly settling into the cozy routine of a girls’ night in. You ordered some delicious takeout, stocked up on snacks, and found yourselves comfortably sprawled on the couch with episodes of Love Island playing on the tv. Fairy lights twinkled over your entangled figures as you both became engrossed in the latest romantic drama on the screen.

It was a nice reprieve from the boys you’d been constantly drowning around.

But watching the couple on screen makes your mind drift to thoughts of Jaemin. His body caging you against the wall of a study room, eventually laying you back on the table scattered with textbooks and eating you out. His pink hair caught between your fingers…

The thoughts worm their way into your dreams when you and Jennie eventually drift off to sleep, curled on the couch, not wanting the night to end.

Aside from the frat parties, drunken nights, and time well spent with friends, college was actually very fucking boring.

The week breezes by with boring lectures, hastily eaten lunches, and so much damn homework that you genuinely begin to think you’re drowning. You almost turn in a quiz too late on Monday and decide from then on that you’d lock yourself away till your schedule looked a little less hectic.

And that led to a very boring and very sleepy Friday.

The lecture hall was dimly lit, and the professor's monotone voice droned on about the intricacies of music theory. You were struggling to keep your eyes open, staring blankly at the notes you'd given up on comprehending. The only thing getting you through this intolerable day was the weekend ahead (Even though you had to meet Mark on Saturday for a stupid group project), and the coffee you had gotten with Jennie that morning.

She made sure to dutifully remind you of her sorority event that night, which in turn reminded you of your library date with Hyuck.

Like you could forget.

After that, and your morning stats class (where you promptly took a little nap despite your determination to genuinely understand the subject), you met up with Jeno for lunch. It wasn’t so bad, until Jaehyun crashed at the table and stole Jeno’s attention to talk about hockey plays for their game on Sunday.

Awkwardly trying to avoid him and the rumors that were spreading on campus (and because you had no idea what a bar down or hat-trick was), you promptly left and got to your music theory lecture early.

Which at this moment felt like a place where pretty things came to die.

You couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh. The boredom was reaching unbearable levels, and you questioned your life choices that led you to enroll in this class. It’s not like you needed it to graduate. The spot was simply open, and you needed another class.

Just as you were contemplating an escape plan, the door swung open with a loud bang.

Mark rushed in, disheveled and panting. Everyone turned to stare at him, including you. He apologized to the professor, who simply gestured for him to take a seat. You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the sight.

Mark Lee was…a character. You met him through Hyuck, who introduced him as the love of his life. Mark had grinned awkwardly and shuffled away from Haechan’s body after that comment, instead choosing to question you about your major and interests. It was then that you both became friends too. Albeit, casual friends. (Except for the one time freshman year that you had hooked up in the science building bathroom)

He was there to gossip with, grab lunch, and aid you through music theory (which you didn’t know a damn thing about). He was exceptionally talented and hardworking, show cased through his double major in theology and music theory. A weird combination, but after getting to know his religious background and affinity for guitar playing, you thought it was perfectly spot on for him.

Like Jaemin, he dyed his hair bright ass colors whenever he was on the verge of a breakdown. This weeks’ color was black with silver sideburns. Somehow, he pulls it off quite well.

"What's up?" you whispered to Mark as he settled into the chair beside you.

He looked worn out. It was barely one pm, but the ruffled hair, wrinkled clothes, and half on-half off jacket, makes him look like he’d been hit by a tornado on his way to class.

His mouth is set in a flat line when he glances over at you, “Hyuck, is what’s up.”

“Hyuck?”

The professor sends a pointed glare at the two of you, and mark smiles sheepishly before leaning in to tell you the rest, his voice hushed, “Yeah. Went over to his dorm to grab my notebook that I left last night, and the dumbass was wasted.”

“Like, drunk?” you question, because as you recall, it was barely one pm.

“Drunk as fuck.” Mark deadpans.

Your eyebrows shoot up, “It’s the middle of the day?”

“Yeah, I told him that many, many times.” Mark digs around his backpack, trying to find a pencil to catch up on the lecture he missed, “All he kept doing was stumbling around, asking for cheesecake–”

When you open your mouth to question it, Mark cuts you off.

“I don’t really know why.” When he finds the pencil at the bottom of his bag, he snorts in triumph and continues, “So he kept asking for cheesecake, started bawling when I told him there was none, and finally, when I wrestled him into his bed, he started telling me about you.”

Your body freezes impossibly fast, gaze nervously darting around the room. Maybe if you didn’t look Mark in the eyes, then you could forget what he said and pretend that the words never left his mouth.

No, of course not. Time to bite the bullet.

“Me?” You squeak.

“He told me a lot about you actually.” The way Mark is looking, his arms crossed and an expression that can only be described as accusatory, can mean only one thing.

“He told you about…”

You want to leave the lecture hall and punch Lee Donghyuck yourself when mark responds.

“Yep.”

“Fuck.” You should have known Hyuck couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “What did he say.”

It was Marks turn to glance around the room, just in case anyone was listening in. When all is clear, his voice drops even lower, “He said you guys fucked after Jaehyuns party. And that it was the best sex of his life – well, the only sex of his life. Was he telling the truth?”

Now’s your chance to lie and set the record straight that you never slept with Haechan. Though, with Mark’s tone, you already knew that he knew the right answer.

“Yeah…We did, but it was just a convenience thing. He happened to be at the right place, at the right time. It was nothing more than that.”

Oh, how you wished those words were true.

It would severely less-complicate things.

Mark chuckles nervously, “I’d avoid him if I were you. Because dude, it was so much more than that to him.”

Your biggest fear is confirmed with his words. How dumb could you be to think that taking his virginity wouldn’t lead to him having some weird clingy attitude towards you. You should have known better.

“I can’t avoid him. I have to meet with him tonight.” You hiss.

Mark shrugs, “I don’t know if he’ll even be awake, dude passed out hard. I mean, I set his alarms, so who knows.”

“Maybe…”

“Anyways, dude – OW!”

A flying drumstick clips Mark in the head, and he hurriedly rubs the spot, wincing. The professor, arms crossed, looks at the both of you in displeasure.

Bursting into a fit of giggles, you realize that this day was definitely not going to be boring anymore.

As you sit in your cozy apartment engrossed in a book, your phone buzzes, pulling you out of the fictional world. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Hyuck.

(8:52 PM) Weird guy from the street: can you come open the door

(8:52 PM) Weird guy from the street: my key isn’t working for some reason

Your eyebrows furrow as you read the message "Key? Hyuck has a key?" You mutter to yourself. You've always assumed that when he showed up randomly at your apartment, it was because Jennie, your roommate, had let him in.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you head to the door. As you swing it open, there stands Hyuck.

"Hey," he greets, a indefinable glint in his eyes. "Can I come in?"

You step aside, allowing him entry, "When did you get a key?”

He chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I don't have a key. That's the thing."

You cross your arms and pop an eyebrow, "You literally just texted me saying your key isn’t working."

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hyuck…” You grumble, “How is it that you randomly show up in the apartment then?”

He smirked, teasingly. "Magic. Or maybe Jennie's magic. I just show up, and the door opens. But seriously, I don't have a key."

You decide to drop the matter. It really wasn’t worth the headache of going back and forth with him. Besides, you really should have caught on sooner. Jennie didn’t like him, yet he was always here to pester you.

“Right…. Are you still drunk?”

“That, I am not.” He walks further into the apartment and starts messing with the stack of papers on the counter – shuffling them. “Mark made sure to leave me the usual hangover cure on my nightstand, so I don’t feel sick either.”

“You know, it’s not really proper to get drunk in the middle of the school day.” You chastise him. There’s not really a reason as to why you’re lecturing him. Can’t a friend just be worried about her other very problematic friend?

His counter comes quick, “I never claimed to be proper. If you took a walk inside my brain, you’d understand.” When you meet his gaze, he gives you a teasing wink. “Now are we ready to go see some girl get her back blown out.”

“Not the words I would use.” You mutter, grabbing your keys and phone off the coffee table in the living room and following Hyuck to the library for the second time that week.

Surprising to you, he keeps the banter to a minimum during the entire five-minute walk. Only once does he comment on your outfit, even though it was a totally normal outfit. Yet according to him you were wearing a ‘too-short cheerleading skirt that showed your ass way too much.’

Besides the one little quip, he kept his mouth shut.

What was even more surprising (as if anything could top Haechan shutting up), was that the library was way too easy to break in to.

Well, does it count as breaking in if it was left unlocked?

According to Hyuck, no. To authorities, probably.

Navigating back to the geology section was easy. All you had to do was take the staircase in the back. Honestly though, it was a bit creepy. The empty library creaked and echoed at the slightest touch. Hyucks heavy steps on the stairs made you jump which made him break his silence and tease you for the rest of the way up.

You didn’t realize this before, but the geology section perfectly overlooked the main floor of the library. Provided, there was a bookshelf blocking the ledge, which added another layer of privacy.

Hm…Hyuck wasn’t a liar.

Na Jaemin was in fact in the library, with a girl at his side, studying, after hours.

Yet, that’s all they were doing – studying. The girl furiously scribbled in her notebook while Jaemin watched. He points out what you assume to be a mistake and the girl giggles, flipping over her pencil to scrub the paper with the eraser.

There’s no denying that they sat closer than normal. She leaned into Jaemins shoulder, and his hand was under the table – probably resting on her thigh. But nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be occurring.

You go to turn around and confront Hyuck. Maybe tell him to shove a rock up his ass. But the front of his body hits your back, caging you against the bookshelf.

“Hyuck…” you warn, voice low.

“Just watch.” He murmurs, arms encircling your waist to pull you closer.

Marks words lick up your spine like a fire, singing every nerve in your body.

It meant so much more to him.

Haechan's exhalations reach you in delicate, soft wafts, caressing the back of your neck and eliciting a tingling sensation as the hairs on your skin stand on end. "See." he murmurs. A shiver runs through you as he traces his fingers along your arms, whispering, "I don't want to say I told you so, but..." he clicks his tongue, nosing your shoulder, "I told you so."

Your gaze remains fixed as Jaemin playfully pulls the girl onto his lap, their textbooks now abandoned and ignored. As she molds herself against him, the hem of her shirt lifts, and Jaemin's fingers instinctively find the revealed skin, tracing intricate patterns. At some point, his hand slips entirely under her t-shirt and drags higher and higher. You can hear his quiet murmurs, between kisses - compliments of her body, her lips, her taste.

It's selfish to think, but Jaemin should be saying those words to you. And maybe that makes you a little on edge – a little pissed off.

"They're only making out," you argue back, voice quiet, "This doesn't prove shit. Even I've done this."

You feel Haechan jolt back in surprise, unanswered questions flooding the tip of his tongue. With who? he wants to ask, but he doesn't. If anything, the questions fuel his eagerness to prove you wrong. He knows Jaemin. For fucks sake, they've been roommates since freshman year.

There's a bite to his tone when he speaks up again, "Just watch."

So, you do.

You watch as Jaemin loses himself in this girl completely, all the while wishing it was you. But no, instead, you're stuck peering through bookshelves, while Haechan presses himself into you from behind at the same time Jaemin pushes his hips up.

"Is this turning you on?" you hiss, head whipping sideways to look at him.

His head dips down to nip at your earlobe, “So?”

“You’re such a pervert.”

“And you aren’t?”

Fair point.

Though, your sexual tendencies were far from voyeuristic, you can’t help but enjoy the scene in front of you – the secret thrill of watching Na Jaemin.

Haechan’s hands slip under the hem of your shirt, mirroring Jaemin. “Want me to stop?” he mumbles.

The argument that breaks out in your head doesn’t hold a candle to the way your body reacts, because maybe, just maybe, letting Haechan fuck you between the shelves of the library isn’t such a bad idea. However, spying on Jaemin, and wishing it was him instead, might be.

But Haechan doesn’t have to know.

And after all, what he doesn’t know can’t kill him.

You shake your head no, sensing his grin against the side of your neck, “I figured as much.”

Jaemins low groan carries across the empty library, and the mere sound leaves goosebumps crawling up your spine.

So, he is a groaner.

You knew it.

Haechans voice replaces the sound, “How about you spread your legs like a good girl and let me take care of you?”

“Right here?” You hiss.

“Is that okay?” He cranes his head over your shoulder so that you could just barely make eye contact, and suddenly you’re transported back to that first night with Haechan. The innocence in his gaze, the longing, the willingness to please you. He just wants to show you that he can take care of you – more than anyone ever could.

Won’t you let him?

Silently, you nod your head – and Haechan wastes no time.

As his fingertips glide along your arms, tiny goosebumps rise in their path. Once they reach the tips of your fingers, he intertwines them with yours, creating a seamless connection, then gently presses both hands against the sturdy shelf of books. The tip of his tongue finds your neck again, swirling patterns into the skin, and the sensation of his touch sends shivers down your spine.

You want to stay like this – focused on Haechan – but the thought that you were missing the real show on the bottom floor, makes you turn your attention to the other two occupants of the library.

It’s unfortunate that the girl in Jaemins lap decided to wear jeans, because watching her struggle to undo the button, while your best friend observes impatiently, makes your head spin. He looks like he wants to rip them off her without a second thought. Instead, he smacks her hands aside with a cheeky grin and swiftly undoes it, shoving his big hand down the front of her jeans. You can’t hear what he whispers into the shell of her ear, but her breathy moans pour from parted lips, carrying across the library.

Haechan’s teeth nip at your shoulder as he untangles one of his hands from yours and curls it around the waist band of your skirt.

“No–” you mumble, “Don’t wanna get undressed here…just…push my panties to the side or something.”

Haechan’s eyes widen behind you, though you can’t see. You only hear the grunt that escapes his lips as he obeys, roughly twisting them to the side.

A shiver runs through you, the stark contrast between how he is now and how he was the other night. He’s rougher now, less gentle, less tender. It’s as if he has something to prove—maybe holding onto you with a firmer grip is the only way for him to believe it’s real. To convince himself that you’re truly his for a second time, even though you swore it would never happen again.

You barely register the sound of foil tearing before his hand moves between you, the cool slide of latex against your skin making your breath hitch. He works quickly, efficiently, like he’s done this a thousand times before—like he can’t afford to waste a second more. The anticipation coils tight in your stomach, and you swear you’re already dizzy by the time he presses against you again.

You have to slap a hand over your trembling lips when Haechan pushes his cock into you so roughly that you tilt forward and nearly lose your footing. His knuckles brushing the inside of your thigh from holding your panties to the side feels like zaps of electricity, and your eyes flutter close again.

This is so bad of you. So very bad. But you don’t mind it. Because right now, he’s fucking you so hard and so fast that you haven’t had any time to adjust. No time to think.

The shelf is shaking, but Haechan can’t find the willpower to care. He can’t find the willpower to care about anything. He doesn’t care if you don’t like him the same. He doesn’t care if you’re just doing this because it’s the right place, right time. He doesn’t care if it’s only happening because you’re enjoying the sight of Jaemin and that girl. He doesn’t fucking care.

Not when he’s the one fucking you, pushing you against the shelves so hard they might just fall over. And when you sigh his name, so breathy and whiny and so perfectly his, he reaffirms that he doesn’t fucking care.

You chose this moment.

You chose him.

If only for a night.

But he’ll take a night. He’d take anything you’d give him – anything you’d be willing to spare.

He feels like he’s transcended the astral plane, the way you suck him in, pussy so wet he’s nearly slipping out with each thrust.

Jaemin is losing his mind too. This girl – whatever her name is – just won’t shut up. She’s babbling about how hot he is, how sexy it is that she’s on his lap right now, how she can’t believe they’re doing this in the middle of the library.

All he wants to do is fuck her mouth so she’ll shut up.

You know that look — the one Jaemin gets when he's on the edge of annoyance. A flicker of doubt crosses your mind. Does he know you're up there watching? Maybe that's what’s setting him off. For a brief second, your heart clenches, cold and uncertain — but then Haechan's lips find your neck, scattering your thoughts like they were never there.

His hand reaches up the front of your body, enclosing itself around your throat. At the same time, Jaemin's hand tightens around the girl's throat, his fingers pressing into her skin with the same slow, deliberate intensity. A choked gasp slips from her lips, mirroring the way your breath shudders under Haechan’s touch. The sight of them, so perfectly aligned, sends a sharp thrill down your spine. “How does it feel?” He mumbles, squeezing just a bit, so that your response comes out quiet and strained.

“Feels good.”

“Just good?

“Feels perfect.” You gasp out.

The room feels hotter as their hands move in sync—tight, possessive. Haechan's thumb brushes along your jawline, eyes flicking between your parted lips and the way your breath catches under his grip. Jaemin mirrors him perfectly, leaning in close to the girl whose whimper fills the space.

“Perfect, huh?” Haechan taunts low in your ear, voice dripping with cocky amusement. His fingers flex around your throat, just enough to make your pulse race.

Jaemin's fingers disappear further down the girl's jeans, knuckles flexing as he works her open — soft wet sounds carrying through the dead silence of the library. His eyes are lidded, lips curled into that lazy, cocky grin you know so well. The one that says he knows exactly what he's doing to her — what he should be doing to you.

Haechan's hips snap harder behind you, forcing your cheek against the cold shelf as the books rattle in protest. His breath is hot on the side of your face, voice low and taunting. "You wish it was him, don't you?"

Your nails scrape against the wood, trying to find something — anything — to ground yourself as the shame pools hotter between your legs.

"No," you lie through clenched teeth.

Haechan laughs, breathless and mean. His hand snakes up your chest, pushing under your shirt to grab at your tits. He squeezes hard enough to make you arch into him, hips rolling back against his cock. "Liar," he spits. "You're dripping down my dick watching him finger some random bitch."

Your eyes snap open, finding Jaemin again. His mouth is on her neck now, pink tongue flicking against the delicate skin as she writhes in his lap. His free hand fists her hair, holding her still — the same way he playfully does with you when he’s holding something high above his head that you can’t reach.

Fuck.

Haechan feels the way your pussy clenches around him at the sight, and the cruel grin that spreads across his face makes your stomach flip. "Filthy little slut... you like pretending I'm him?"

You shake your head no, but Haechan catches your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look straight through the shelves. Straight at Jaemin.

"Then keep your eyes on him while I fuck you. Since that's what you want so bad."

Heat flushes through your entire body — humiliation, desire, and something darker twisting in your gut. You shouldn't want this. You shouldn't want to be fucked like a ragdoll while imagining your best friend is the one splitting you open. But the way Haechan's cock is stretching you — brutal and unrelenting — makes it so fucking hard to care.

The girl on Jaemin's lap starts whining, hips rocking against his hand. Jaemin's mouth drops open in a soft moan, head tipping back against the chair. His fingers are moving faster now — slick, dirty sounds echoing through the stacks.

Haechan's lips brush your ear, voice syrupy sweet. "Wanna come together, baby? Wanna let him hear how good we're being up here?"

You're so close — thighs trembling, pussy clenching around him with every punishing thrust. And the worst part is... you do want it. You want Jaemin to hear you. You want him to know exactly what you're doing — what he's missing out on. What Haechan gets to have while he wastes his time with girls who won't ever know him the way you do.

Haechan's fingers find your clit, rubbing fast, messy circles that send sparks shooting up your spine. "That's it," he groans, hips stuttering. "Come for me, baby. Let him hear how fucking good I fuck you."

A sudden rustle echoes through the library — footsteps approaching, heavy and deliberate. Your breath catches, panic slicing through the haze of pleasure.

You don’t want the pleasure to stop, but the sparks in your stomach are dying down with each jangle of keys you hear. When you turn your head, you see a flashlight sweeping through the aisles of books a few rows over.

“Haechan we gotta go.” You urge.

“W-Wait, just give me, ah fuck, give me two seconds.” He stammers out, hands squeezing and kneading your thighs as he gets closer and closer.

“Hyuck.” You warn,

“Please!” He whines, “I’m so fucking close.”

You roll your eyes and say the thing you know will get him to finish, “Be a good boy and cum for me.”

The words are barely a whisper, yet they cut through the tension like a knife. His body tenses, a low groan rumbling in his throat. His hips buck against yours one last time, a shudder running through him as he spills inside you. The sudden quiet after his release is deafening, broken only by the continued jangling of keys and the soft thud of approaching footsteps.

“Hurry up.” You whisper through gritted teeth.

Haechan curses under his breath, pulling out of you with a slick pop. He rips the condom off, glancing around frantically before stuffing it between the pages of a geology textbook.

“That’s disgusting.” You whisper.

He just shrugs.

"Okay," he breathes, his voice thick with spent desire. "Okay, we go."

He pulls away, and you quickly adjust your clothing, the sound of rustling fabric seeming impossibly loud in the silence. "Come on," you hiss urgently, fingers tightening around Haechan's arm as you dart through the labyrinth of shelves with desperate determination. This stupid fucking geology section was so damn difficult to navigate. Shelves of useless books and glass cases of rocks. You take a wrong turn and end up face to face with a wall.

“This way dumbass.” Haechan whispers, this time grabbing your hand and pulling you in the opposite direction.

Apparently, he knew exactly where to go, dragging you down a few corridors and finally to the back staircase that you had come up earlier. His hand tugs you down the steps so fast you think you might just tumble down them. But when you reach the bottom, he spares you a glance, “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

"Hey!” The security guard's shout jolts you, too close for comfort, and you both sprint away once more.

Navigating the bottom floor feels better; fewer shelves clutter the space, replaced by study room cubicles and vacant tables. You trail behind Haechan, relief flooding you as you spot the double doors illuminated by the red exit sign.

At last, you burst through the library doors, the cool night air a balm against the fevered heat of adrenaline that courses through your veins. But as you collide with a figure standing at the edge of the pathway, your heart lurches.

This was it. You were done for. Caught by the security guard for breaking the rules. You just hope they don’t throw you in jail. They couldn’t arrest you, could they?

"Jaemin?" Haechan gasps, his voice a breathless whisper that hangs in the air like a fragile thread.

Forget jail – you might just die here on the spot.

There Jaemin was, his hands holding your arms to steady you. God he really was just solid wall of muscle. But it was just him, no girl in sight.

He peers down at you, mouth dropped in surprise. “What are you two doing here?”

You and Haechan share a quick look and then speak at the same time. “Project.”

Jaemin releases his hold on you and takes a step back, “You don’t share classes.”

“I was helping him.”

“It’s due tonight.” Haechan affirms, still trying to catch his breath, “What were you doing here?”

It’s an accusatory statement – but you didn’t think Haechan had the balls to actually ask it.

Jaemin shoves his hands in his pockets and starts down the path. The both of you follow on his heels, “I was studying.”

“Right.”

“Well, are you guys coming back to the dorm to finish the project?”

“Can’t. I have to go to a Jennie thing, like, right now.” As if on cue, your phone pings with a slew of messages from her – all asking where the hell you were. “Can one of you guys go with me? She’s asking me why I’m late and she’s not gonna be satisfied unless I have a good excuse. But, if I bring one of you guys, she’ll understand.”

Haechan pipes up from beside you incredibly fast. Literally jumping at the chance, “I’ll go.”

“Don’t you have a project to finish?” Jaemin’s voice holds a note of skepticism as he turns his gaze to Hyuck, one eyebrow lifted.

Haechan’s expression falters for a moment, his defense tumbling from his lips, “Yeah, but­–”

“You should probably head back to work on it.” You interject, tone firm.

Jaemin nodded in agreement.

If you could get Jaemin to go with you, perhaps the night would lead exactly where you wanted it too…with him between your legs, and another part of the challenge completed.

Sure, you felt bad about literally ditching the boy you were just fooling around with – who you literally made cum in less than ten minutes. But you had a duty. A responsibility.

Right?

Haechan just shoves his hands into his pocket and storms off towards his dorm without another word. Which, by the way, was not the norm for him. He always had to have the last word. Boy must really be butt hurt.

“Jaemin?” you began, turning to face him, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

“What do I get out of this?” Jaemin's response was quick, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he met your gaze.

You roll your eyes, searching for something that would tip the scale in your favor. “You get to see pretty girls in pretty dresses.”

“Fucking deal.”

So, turns out entering a sorority house in the middle of an event was not a respected nor appreciated thing.

Technically you wouldn’t have been late had Jaemin not insisted on stopping by his dorm so that he could change. He had ‘too many girls to impress’. And then, every outfit he chose, Haechan had some rude comment to make. Thus, making you late.

Girls around the room shoot dirty looks as you and Jaemin scramble in through the door. You tuck your head down, feeling the weight of their judgement. Jaemin, however, seemed to revel in the attention. Instead of trying to blend in, he unabashedly drank in the gazes directed your way. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he winked and waved to some of the girls around you. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his audacity.

What a manslut.

Thankfully, your entrance didn't manage to disrupt Jennie's announcement. The sorority president continued her speech from the front of the room, determined to maintain the flow of the event, even if her sisters were still glaring at you.

As Jennie finished calling the names of all the new sisters, the room erupted into cheers and applause.

Someone starts playing music.

Drinks start flowing.

Jaemin filters off with mumbled excuses of finding said drinks.

And you realize just how fucked you look, literally.

Your disheveled appearance didn't go unnoticed, as Jennie approached your huddled figure. Trying to smooth down your hair and straighten your skirt, she all but sprints over. Her eyes widen when she spots a hickey on your neck.

"You're not helping your case," Jennie teased, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You sure you didn't sleep with him?"

You chuckled nervously, clawing at the mark on your neck, "Not him, someone else."

“Someone else?” She questions, raising an eyebrow. A hint of guilt washes over you; perhaps it's time to open up to her. The expression she wears suggests that if you don't share the information willingly, she might claw it out of you.

You open your mouth and close it, almost mechanically. What were you going to say? Tell her that Haechan decided to have his fun between the shelves of the geology section. Jennie would kill you, like, actually murder you and dump your cold body in the quad fountain. She’s eyeing you expectantly.

“Actually, it was–”

“Y/n! Jennie!” Jaehyun's smooth voice interrupts, catching you off guard. You turned to see him, a playful glint in his eyes. He pushes past a group of people, smiling all the while. Luck must really be on your side this week, because Jennie turns away from you to embrace him, your expected confession already forgotten.

When she pulls away, she shoots you a look. If you squinted, you’d see her pupils replaced by little animated hearts. She really was into him.

“I didn’t know you were in a sorority Y/n.” He paused, eyes flickering between you and Jennie. "You both look amazing."

You chuckled, waving off the idea. "No sorority for me. I'm just here to support Jennie. She's the social butterfly tonight.”

Jennie beamed at the mention of her being a social butterfly, and Jaehyuns compliment, clearly enjoying the attention from both of you. "Oh, you two should chat. Y/n, meet Jaehyun. Jaehyun, this is Y/n, my roommate, best friend, partner in crime, etcetera."

Jennie doesn’t know that you’ve both met before, and you guess he doesn’t have the heart to explain it all to her. Unaware of your previous encounters, she continued her introduction “Jae, Y/n is amazing. She’s the one who introduced me to that new coffee shop I’ve been meaning to take you to!”

Jaehyun extends his hand, and you shook it, feeling a subtle spark as your eyes met. "Nice to officially meet you, Y/n. Jennie's been talking about you," he admitted, a smile playing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh, has she now?"

Jennie nodded enthusiastically. "Only good things, I promise! Mostly about the coffee joint."

“About that…” Jaehyun says, pulling out his phone from his pocket and tapping the screen a few times, “I’ve been meaning to get your number so we can go sometime.”

When he hands the phone to Jennie, she all but passes out. A beaming smile overtakes her features as she hastily inputs her number. “I sent myself a text, so you’ll know it’s me.” As Jennie handed back Jaehyun's phone, a newfound excitement radiated from her. "I can't wait for us to check it out together. It's my absolute favorite," she exclaimed, seemingly oblivious to how the boy was now smirking at you.

Jaehyun, still not looking in your roommates direction, gave a nod of agreement. "Absolutely, looking forward to it." He pockets his phone and leans against the wall.

Your roommate shoots you another look, this one of pure giddy delight. “Alright! I’d like to stay and chat with you guys all night, but I got a party to run! Being a Delta Gamma girl means I gotta run around like a chicken with her head cut off. I’ll catch you guys later though?” Jennie shot one last love-struck glance your way before gracefully maneuvering through the crowd, disappearing into the sea of partygoers.

As the music pulsed and the lively atmosphere continued around you, you found yourself standing with Jaehyun, both of you momentarily left to your own devices. Jaemin was nowhere to be found so you might as well enjoy the company of Jeno’s older half-brother.

Jaehyun, ever the smooth talker, leaned in a bit closer, his voice a low murmur over the music. "Well, it looks like it's just you and me now.”

“Seems like it.” You respond, not sure what to say, but Jaehyun interrupts what little silence there was.

"So, Y/n," He begins, "Tell me about Jeno. Been keeping an eye on him?”

Honestly, you hadn't crossed paths with Jeno much this week. The only time you managed to meet up was for lunch earlier in the day, and even then, Jaehyun decided to join, leaving your catch-up session with Jeno cut short.

"Well, I'm not his personal watchdog, but as far as I know he’s doing alright. He’s probably practicing for the game tomorrow.”

Jaehyun's smile widened, and he reached up to casually brush a strand of hair from your face. The gesture sent a subtle shiver down your spine. Why did he do that? That was literally so out of the blue. Especially when he just gave your roommate his number.

"Speaking of keeping an eye on things," he teased, his tone now laced with a hint of flirtation, "You seem like you need a drink. Want me to get you one?"

You glance around the room, searching for Jaemin so that you could excuse yourself, but he was nowhere to be found – still.

You sigh, “Yeah, sure. Why not? Surprise me.”

Jaehyun returned shortly with a drink in hand, and as you took a sip, he continued the conversation. "So, tell me about the party last weekend. Did you and Haechan enjoy yourselves?"

The mention of the party made you choke on your drink (that, and the fact that it was literally ninety-five percent tequila and five percent lemonade), surprised by the sudden shift in topic. “Me and Haechan? W-what do you mean?”

He couldn’t know, could he…?

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, smirking so wide his dimples hollowed out his cheeks. It was kind of cute – in an objective way, of course. “Well, you guys went off during spin the bottle, right?”

Oh, you had totally forgotten about that.

“Yeah, but we didn’t do anything.” You wave your hand in front of your face and take another sip of your drink. It wasn’t entirely a lie – you didn’t do anything at the party.

He hums and takes a sip of his own drink. Swallowing it hard, he gestures to you, “Well, I can clearly see a hickey on your neck, so who has the pleasure of getting at you?”

Your drink nearly becomes a choking hazard once more. Attempting to articulate a response, you struggle as the words seem to get caught in your throat. God damn tequila.

“Was it Jaemin?”

Now that…that about killed you. You wished it had been Jaemin’s lips on your neck, his hands on your body, his co- “Hate to burst your bubble, but me and Jaemin are just friends.” You give him a wry smile, “It was just some dude in my class.”

“Some dude?” He smirks, and those damn dimples come out again.

You nod, “Unfortunately.”

He lifts his cup to his lips and utters, almost muffled by the rim of the solo cup, "I bet I could do better."

“Is that so?” You quip, the words leaving your mouth faster than you can comprehend. There’s no justification for the thoughts seeping into your brain. This was supposed to be Jennies man. Jeno’s brother. A friend and nothing more.

But those dimples.

And that suit he was wearing. All black tie, shiny shoes, and crisp white button up.

You could blame it on the alcohol.

You could blame it on Haechan leaving you high and dry.

You could blame it on a million other things…

But one thing is for certain: You just might regret this in the morning.

You’re definitely going to regret this in the morning.

When the windows of his car fog up, you notice the faded presence of heart shapes delicately traced by the touch of someone’s finger.

Probably his ex.

Unfortunately, this is the only thing you manage to focus on while Jaehyun fisted a handful of your hair, yanking your head back. His thrusts were fast and pointed and damn near painful.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He groans.

Maybe if you could focus really hard, you’d be able to finish, but when he snakes his hand around your waist and starts rubbing the side of your leg, you realize that that wasn’t going to happen.

“Feel good?” The cockiness drips from his lips, and it almost makes you laugh. Poor thing, at least he was hot.

“Mhm.” It’d feel better if he slowed down and stopped jackhammering into you.

The leather seats of his car stick against your skin when you try to lift up onto your elbows. It was pretty spacious, but with Jaehyun all but laying on top of you, it felt more than cramped.

His hand rubs harder, “Don’t hold back baby, cum for me.”

Did he really believe you were close to finishing? You weren’t making any sounds, not shaking, not moaning for him to keep going or go faster. But genuinely, if you told him the truth, it would probably break his ego in half. Or prompt him to actually get better at sex.

You decide to just fake it. “Fuck Jae…Feels good.”

His voice is strained, “Don’t call me Jae.”

“Sorry–” You mumble, head dipping under the weight of his heavy hand that comes to grab at the back of your neck. His other hand was already wrapped up in your hair, but the other steadies himself while he continues to fuck into you.

“Call me daddy.” He breathes.

Of course he’d have a daddy kink.

You amp your voice up a bit “F-Fuck, daddy, love your cock.” Apparently, this was exactly what he wanted because he starts humming in satisfaction, “Want your cum.” You just wanted him to be done.

The tips of his ears turn red, pace faltering when the name rolls off your tongue. “Baby...fuck” He keeps it just like that, disjointedly fucking into you as he came – thank god he had a condom on. But he doesn’t pull out right away, instead keeping still until his breathing returned to normal. You just kinda awkwardly sit there, panting.

“That was really good.” He chuckles, pulling out and sitting down on the seat. You fix yourself too, sitting beside him. Your skirt is down on the floorboard, so you bend down to get it and start to put it back on. You felt sticky and sore and not satisfied at all.

 The silence becomes more awkward than it should have been, so you speak up, “So…you have a daddy kink?”

He opens the car door and drops the condom on the ground – which was really fucking gross, but what other choice did he have?

“Yeah…I don’t know, it’s something new I guess.”

Continuing to awkwardly fumble around for something to say you ask another question, “Oh, you were experimenting?”

“I guess.” The awkwardness starts to creep back in again. He wasn’t good at pillow talking, was he? He wasn’t good at much anything when it came to sex, you guess. Throwing on his shirt, he starts to get dressed while you twist your hands together in your lap.

You shifted uncomfortably, “Um, I should probably go find Jennie,” you mumbled, avoiding direct eye contact with Jaehyun.

He seemed oblivious, choosing to focus on the button of his jeans, “Sounds good. Think ‘m gonna head home.” When he did look up, he gave you a genuine smile, “You okay to walk?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “I think I’m good.”

What is it with guys and asking if you were okay to walk after? It’s not like they’re paralyzing you with their magical cock.

As he sat there, you couldn't help but think this dude needed a serious sex ed lesson, and then a follow-up on how to treat a girl after putting her through... that.

“If you ever wanna do this again, you have my number,” he said casually.

You didn’t have his number, and you would never get it. You forced a smile, “Absolutely!”

He got out of the car, and you followed suit, stepping out onto the street and discreetly fixing your clothes so that it looked like you hadn’t been cramped in the back seat of someone’s car. He made his way to the driver’s side door and opened it, “You gonna be at the game on Sunday?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it. Jeno would kill me, you know.”

He nodded, seemingly unfazed, "Great, hopefully I’ll see you there."

You waved a half-hearted goodbye as he got into his car.  When he pulled out of sight, you muttered to yourself, lesson learned, boundaries set.

Turning on your heel, you went back inside the sorority house. The vibrant energy of the party still pulsed through the air. You wonder where this night would have gone had you stayed. Too late for that now. Now you were just unsatisfied and pissed off.

Frowning, you spot Jaemin across the room sitting on a couch. Some girl has her arm thrown around him and they’re laughing. His pink hair falls into his eyes when he looks at her and she reaches a hand up to move the tumbled strands. Her other hand rubs his arms, and he annoyingly flexes. They were three seconds away from kissing and honestly, it pissed you off even more.

Rolling your eyes, you march over to him, damn near pushing people out of the way. Some tell you to watch where you’re going but you ignore them, entirely focused on Jaemin and whoever this girl was.

“Hey Y/N” he cheerfully greets, giving you a beaming smile, “This is Vera.” He gestures to the girl by his side

You grabbed his upper arm, shaking Vera’s grip off of his other one, and pulling him upright – away from her. "Come on, we're leaving," you declared, not in the mood for his flirtatious antics. His bicep flexes, and you find yourself even more desperate to get the fuck out of the sorority house and home to where you could give yourself a proper orgasm.

Jaemin protested, trying to resist your tug. "Dude, what the fuck.” He lowers his voice, “Can’t you see I’m with a girl.”

You shot him a stern look, "You're my date?? This is so rude."

Vera just gives a nervous laugh. Probably afraid that you’d hit her if she tried something. You wouldn’t, but she didn’t know that.

He chuckled, still trying to charm his way out of the situation, "Come on, don't be like that. She's cute, and I was just having a chat." He lowers his voice again, this time whining, “Dude we were just about to go back to her place, don’t fuck this up for me please!”

Ignoring his protests, you start to drag him toward the exit. He finally relented, realizing you were serious about leaving. As you reached the door, he turned to Vera and mouthed, "Call me!"

You shook your head, muttering under your breath, "Unbelievable."

Outside, the cool night air hit you, and you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the evening. "Note to self: choose Haechan next time."

The campus path stretched ahead as you stormed down it, frustration evident in every step. Jaemin followed behind for a few minutes until he got fed up. When he finally catches up, he grabs your shoulder and spins you around.

"What's got you so mad?" he asked, a bemused expression on his face.

You took a deep breath, deciding to let it out. "Jeno's brother.”

“What about Jeno’s brother? Did he try something…I swear to God Y/N, if he tried something-”

You cut him off, “He sucks at sex.” The embarrassment creeps up your spine the longer Jaemin stares at you with wide eyes.

“Wait you…” Jaemin burst into laughter, his amusement echoing through the pathway. "No fucking way…” He clutches his stomach and doubles over, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes like you just said the funniest thing in the world, “Jeno’s brother?”

You shot him a look, still seething, but Jaemin's laughter was contagious, and soon you found yourself smiling despite your annoyance.

"What? Did he have a small dick or something?” Jaemin teased, the corners of his lips still twitching with mirth.

Eyes rolling, you cross your arms over your chest. “More like he thinks giving me an orgasm means rubbing the side of my thigh for five minutes while he fucks like a jack rabbit.”

“Oh my god.” Jaemin doubles over in laughter again, “Now I know why his girl left him.”

“Not funny.”

“Come on,” He chuckles, “Don’t be mad, laugh it off.”

You sighed, "I'm not mad, Jaemin. I'm sexually frustrated."

The laughter died down instantly as Jaemin's expression shifted. "Oh," he says, a hint of realization dawning in his eyes.

"Yeah, oh," you replied, not expecting such a reaction. What was he thinking? And why was he looking at you like that?

After a moment of silence, Jaemin speaks up, his voice softer now. "I’ll do it.”

A breeze passes through the quad, making you shiver. You rub your arms to bring warmth back into them, barely registering Jaemins words, “You’ll do what? Fuck his ex better than he ever could?”

“No,” he chuckles, “I’ll fuck you better than he ever could.”

It’s almost like the world tips over and starts swimming in your vision, because there’s no way, on Gods green fucking earth, that Na Jaemin just offered to fuck you. What happened to not even touching you with a ten-foot pole? Was there sex pollen in the air or something? Did that girl slip something into Jaemins' drink? What happened to being just friends?

But Na Jaemin was just a boy

And you were just a girl. One that was in desperate need of an orgasm.

He seemed to pick up on your hesitation, prompting him to move a step closer and begin clarifying, “Look, I won’t make it weird or anything.” Extending his hand, he gently caresses your arm, and you allow it. “Just a friend helping out a friend, right?”

“But…Why?”

As long as you’d known Jaemin there was no sexual chemistry whatsoever. Except for the last couple weeks when this challenge shit started. But you could have sworn that was all one sided, stemming from your overactive, horny ass brain that needed to be satiated.

“I guess I have a thing for helping those in need…you know, tutoring and all.”

You chew on your bottom lip, “Makes sense…”

Could this night possibly help you complete the second part of the challenge? Was fucking Na Jaemin going to be this easy?

His hand continues to stroke the side of your arm and goosebumps break out on the exposed skin. “Come on Y/N, you deserve an actual orgasm after having to put up with that.”

You raise an eyebrow, “And you think you can give me one?”

“Oh I know I can. Multiple if you’d like.” His words bite through the air, confidence dripping from his lips. Except, instead of it being cocky and very not true like Jaehyun earlier, you could sense he was telling the truth. And thinking back to the video he showed you weeks ago, of him fucking that girl and making her squirt, you realize, Jaemin is exactly who you want right now.

But maybe you want him to work for it a little more, after all, he was the slut in the friend group. (Even if you were the one that already had two cocks in you tonight).

Taking a step closer, you gaze into his eyes, “You talk a big game, Na Jaemin.”

God, he looked fucking good. Button up slightly askew, taunt collar bones peeking through the top. You want to rip it right off of him and get to the muscle’s underneath.

He mirrors your stare, “And I can back it up.” Time stands still when he gives you a once over, biting his lip when he gets to the (as hyuck called it) short ass cheerleading skirt you wore, “Look, I won’t even cum if you don’t want me too. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Desperation rolls off his tongue, and if you had looked closely enough, you’d notice the front of his pants tightening. He never thought about you in this kind of way. You were always off limits to him. A girl he could never claim. But now…with you staring at him like you wanted to bite him (odd, though he’s gotten more feral reactions from other girls before), he can’t help but think about you naked in his bed. Begging for his cock. Begging for him. And well, that made him hard.

“Whatever I want?”

He repeats his words, “Whatever you want.” Voice dropping to barely above a whisper, he gives you another once over, “You can use me as your personal sex toy.”

“Oh, but I’m not Vera?” At this point, you were teasing him – and he knew it. “Thought you wanted her?”

He laughs, “Maybe, but you’re definitely prettier than her.” It catches him by surprise when he notices that it’s true. You were prettier than her. In fact, now that he’s noticing, you were prettier than about ninety five percent of the girls on this campus. How the fuck had he not noticed before? Or maybe he had…maybe this is the first time he’s wanted to admit it to himself. “Come on, I’m so much better than the rubber shit you’d be using if you went home alone.”

You step closer, almost chest-to-chest with him, “And how do you know I’d be using rubber; I have perfectly good hands-”

He leans in, bringing his face inches from yours, "Not better than mine." His eyes drift down to your lips, only to return and lock onto your gaze. "And we both know that."

There’s only a sliver of sanity left in your body to stop you from kissing him right then, right there, in the middle of campus.

“Jaemin.” You whisper.

“Yeah baby?”

That sanity was slipping further and further away.

“What’s the fastest route to your dorm?”

A. NOTE. read the the note at the beginning of this post. and don't forget to reblog :)

TAGLIST. @newdeobi @jijihyunah @saintlyhyuck @mrkis @peachjaem00 @angelwonie @aliceinwhateverland @cabaretyun @allaboutthedongs @donutswithjaminthemiddle @bundleleeknow @sunshinedhyuck @kuingjuing @haechanalpha @thiccfullsun @jenoxygen @ishireads @greentealatte97 @aquamxrina @whymarkieyournameismark @marklexleaf @its-taeil-time @j4d @dearj43 @roohnyk @stargrll13 @hykwrld @leeluc @haechie @xuxisins @rainyjeno

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll, and after a LOT of voting, I present you this :) BIG thanks to @that-multi-fandom-hijabi for beta reading this go follow her writing acc rn (@novaaaaaa-writes). Here's my masterlist!

Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of burning, stabbing, blood, bad descriptions of both fire of water (ice, snow ?) bending, Zuko is whipped, just a little confused about it, reader is a baddie, water benders unite (not me tho), reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind, reader looks non-threatening, is underestimated a lot, this takes place at the end of season one, I think that's it

Pairing: Prince Zuko x GN!Reader

•──•°•❀•°•─── ʜɪꜱ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀʙᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ───•°•☁︎•°•───•

“You shouldn’t be here” you glare, your gaze sending shivers down his spine. 

But that could just be because of all the snow and ice surrounding the both of you. 

The fire prince remains unfazed though, his amber eyes sweeping over your form- assessing the threat you posed. 

He could take you down in seconds. 

Zuko doesn’t respond to your jab though, because he knew you were wrong. He had to be here, it was the only way he could finally receive his father’s favor- as the heir and as the son of Firelord Ozai. It was his duty, his honor. 

And he wasn’t going to let a non-threatening waterbender get in the way of that. 

Reaching back, he unsheathes his dual swords, the glint of the waning moonlight reflecting the dangerous glint in his eye. 

And yet you didn’t back down.  

Pooling some water from your waterskin, you assumed the stance you had trained yourself to take whenever you honed your skills. One with the water, one with the ice.  

‘Power should flow, not force itself” Master Pakku had told you once.  

People had always underestimated your skills, saying you were better suited for healing. But after showing Master Pakku how you could use your bending to control the falling snow around you, he gave you a chance.  

He had told you to let the power settle in your body before releasing, instead of forcing it out immediately. Conceal and then control. 

You met Zuko’s fiery gaze with an icy one of your own. You were going to protect your home.  

With a yell, you form flurries of snow, whipping around your form as you channel your strength to change the form of your flurry, snow turning to water, water turning to sharp daggers of pure ice.  

Zuko scowls, setting his hands ablaze and you run at each other, fire meeting ice.  

Time slows down, as the intensity of your elements picks up, until all you could hear was the steady thump – thump – thump – of your heart, and the roar of crystalline knives swirling around you. 

Flames lick the side of your leg, wincing as the raw burn of the fire sears through your skin in white-hot pain. Razor sharp icy shards cut into Zuko’s skin, finding chinks in his armor, piercing his flesh and drawing blood. 

The snow beneath the both of you was dotted red now, both of you staring at each other, panting heavily.  

“You really shouldn’t be here.” you repeat again, but this time, it was barely a whisper, swallowing down tears as the cold wind of the Northern Water Tribe stung your gaping wounds. 

Zuko growls, grunting in pain as he pulls a shard of ice out of his skin.“I don’t take orders from a little waterbender” he spat, venom dripping from his words. 

You reciprocate with a snide comment of your own. “This ‘little waterbender’ just sunk 5 icicles into your skin.” 

Zuko was just about ready to tear your head off, hands igniting with vermillion flames before you collapse, the burns along your thigh and calf were much more severe than either of you realized.  

You choke out a sob of pain but keep your control of the water left in your waterskin. You couldn’t die, not today, and not at the hands of the prince of the Fire Nation.  

Zuko’s heart throbs unexpectedly, the look on your face too familiar for comfort. The face of someone who worked so desperately hard, only for all that effort to go down the drain. But he didn’t care for you. He couldn’t- couldn’t grow attachment to a non-threatening waterbender. Yet you sat there on the snow, dotted with blood, with that raw look in your eyes. His flames extinguished, without him meaning to.  

You flinched as he threw his swords down frustrated, impaling themselves into the nearby snow mound, standing straight up. 

He stomps over to you, and you frantically move back, but your leg flares up in pain again, and you yelp, hissing in pain.

“Stop moving, you’ll make it worse.” he says, glaring at you, but not as intensely as he had before.  

You want to scream, kick him, punch him, anything, but your body betrays you as he sweeps you up into his arms, carrying you to the nearest place he can find, where he can keep you safe. You feel his strong arms hook under your knees and under your back, holding you securely to his firm chest. Even through his armor, he radiates warmth, a gentle heat, unlike the flames he threw at you merely minutes ago.  

He hates this, with every fiber in my being, his voice screaming at him to drop you and burn your frail body to a crisp, vengeance for the blood dripping from his own body, but he keeps moving, step after painstaking step. 

You try to stay awake, you really do, yet channeling so much energy from your battle, the numb throb in your lower leg, and the comforting heat radiating off the fire prince who refuses to look at you, you slip into unconsciousness.  

Zuko feels a weight press against his chest, and he huffs, honey-colored eyes catching onto the details of your face, the curve of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the slight pout of your lips as you nuzzle into his armor unintentionally, how pretty you were when you were at peace. 

He stops himself there, reprimanding himself for thinking such things. He can’t have feelings for the enemy. 

And yet, even as he and his troops head home, battle wearing and dejected from the loss of a major battle, Zuko can’t help but think about his little waterbender.  

*** 

When you wake up, the kind woman tending to you tells you all about the mysterious and handsome man who carried your sleeping form across the entire Northern Water Tribe because he didn’t know where the healing center was.  

[gothgoblinbabe]

Nothing Worth Saying Aloud

Logan Howlett x fem reader

A/N: This one is short n' sweet! Inspired by the song "Need 2" by Pinegrove which I had first heard because I read this one shot that used that song as inspiration! Theirs is much better I'll be real but I had this festering in my brain for too long every time I'd play that song on repeat

Summary: Misunderstanding and miscommunication makes for a terrible combination that leaves you feeling like you've had your heart ripped from your chest

Warnings: Angsty as all hell, a lil' bit of fluff at the end, that's really it!

Word Count: 2K

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་

You’d gone through a couple break ups in your life, a handful of failed situation-ships that ended awkwardly - even a long term relationship or two - but all the heartbreak you’d experienced couldn’t compare to the chest-crushing agony you experienced now.

The terrible moment of facing the music; accepting what couldn’t be, even if you wanted it more than anything.

Logan was not into you and he was never going to be.

You had to confront that when you’d gone down the stairs of the mansion one night to get a glass of water, almost certain you were the only person awake. That was until you’d stopped short in the hallway, seeing Logan and Jean standing with their backs to you. You couldn’t hear their conversation and didn’t think anything of it until you watched his arm snake around her shoulders, pulling her into him for a hug.

Your stomach sank. You really should have known.

The way he talks to her, looks at her, is always there to help her; it must have been obvious to anyone but you. You’d been friends for so long that you were almost dumbfounded that you never realized, probably too blinded by your own rose colored glasses.

You turned on your heel immediately, climbing the stairs to hide in your bedroom. Your chest felt heavy and your skin felt like it was on fire. You never ended up sleeping that night, too sick to think of anything else but Jean and Logan.

That was maybe two weeks ago now and you’d avoided Logan every day since as best you could. You’d gone from being nearly inseparable to speaking only when you had to. He’d try his best to get you to talk to him about anything at all but you only gave him one word answers. He even tried to keep you after training one day, gently having a hold on your bicep.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” He asked bluntly. He tried to look you in the eyes but they were nearly glued to the metal floor of the basement corridor, your hair falling in your face.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, Logan, really,” you were able to mutter out, somehow keeping your voice from cracking. Before he could interrogate you further, you shrugged yourself out of his soft grip and speed-walked to the elevator, tears flowing the second you turned away from him.

You were not fine. Your eyes were always red and puffy from crying yourself to sleep and everyone could tell something was off. 

Ororo even stopped you in the hallway outside your bedroom one night, begging you to tell her what was wrong and what she could do to help.

“It’s nothing, I - “ you had started to dismiss her, but she was having none of it. 

“Stop with that! Enough! You need to tell me what’s up or I’m gonna have to force it out of you somehow and you know I do not wanna do that. Now tell me.”

You sighed, never picking your gaze up from the floor. 

“Come here, I don’t want anyone to hear me,” you beckoned her into your room.

She sat by your side at the edge of the bed as you confessed what you had seen and how badly it had torn you apart, rubbing your back gently when you choked out a sob.

“Honey,” she cooed, pushing some hair from your face and wiping a tear away, “I think you need to talk to him. This is gonna eat you up inside if you don’t and I think maybe it could’ve been a misunderstanding.”

“I don’t know, ‘ro. I can’t even look at him without feeling like I’m gonna burst into tears,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes with the collar of your t-shirt.

“Think about it. I can’t tell you what to do, but I think you really should. And if it was what it looked like, sweetheart, this is not the end of the world,” she reminded you.

“It sure does feel like it,” you joked, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

“I know,” she sighed, patting your back gently, “talk to him.”

You nodded and she left the room, reminding you to come find her if you needed anything at all.

You thought her words over and ultimately still hid in your room the next day, skipping training to rot in bed in sweatpants and a tank top. The thought of having to confess to Logan that you were really in love with him was far too paralyzing. It almost made you sick If you thought about it too long.

You knew it wasn’t a good idea to keep shuffling sad songs on repeat and yet you did, keeping your CD player at a low volume so you wouldn’t bother anyone and they wouldn’t bother you. Your hair was a mess and you were glad that at the very least, you’d had enough energy to shower that morning after three days of not doing so. You held your knees to your chest while laying on your side, burying your face into your pillow to muffle your wailing sobs. 

Logan was downstairs at the same time, making his way towards the stairs, only to run into Scott.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Logan spoke, stopping him with a hand on his upper arm.

Even through Scott’s glasses, Logan could tell he was glaring suspiciously.

“About what? Why?”

Logan said your name, looking around to be sure they were alone in the hallway.

Scott’s expression softened and he leaned against the wall, waiting for him to explain.

“Do you know what’s up with her? She won’t talk to me, she hasn’t in two weeks. She won’t even look at me. Has she said anything to you?” Logan spewed out, rubbing the back of his neck as a nervous tic. 

“No, your girlfriend didn’t mention anything,” he teased, shaking his head, “but hey, just talk to her. You’ve been close for a while now, you just have to confront her.”

“She’s not my - okay, whatever. Yeah, I’m gonna go talk to her. Maybe she’s in her room,” Logan sighed.

“She’s always in her room lately. If there’s anyone that can pull her out of it, it would be you.”

He quickly thanked Scott and finally reached the stairs. He had been walking through the hall, finding your bedroom door and stopping when he heard a noise he couldn’t quite make out. He heard you sniffle and his heart dropped.

You were crying.

He tried to give you your space, work through whatever it was that was bothering you, but it broke him to see you the way you were and his prodding didn’t seem to help. Still, he didn’t know how much longer he could let you dodge him in the halls or live with the fact that you wouldn’t even look at him anymore. He had planned to talk to you that day, but you rarely came out of your room now.

So, he laid a hand on your doorknob, turning it slowly. He would’ve knocked - he always did - but every time he had recently, you laid silent and pretended not to be in the room. He always knew you were, recognizing the smell of your perfume behind the door. 

The door cracked open a few inches and he saw you, curled in a ball in your bed with your face in your pillow. Your shoulders moved up and down as you sobbed, gripping the pillow so hard that your knuckles turned white.

There’s no way Logan could leave you like this. He slid into the room and closed the door gently, but you could hear the click of the knob over your music.

Your head shot up and you saw Logan standing with his back to your door, an almost devastated look on his face.

“Oh god, Logan, please, don’t - “ you choked out, turning your face so he couldn’t see you and waving him away. Out of everyone you wanted to see right now, he was at the bottom of the list because this was humiliating. 

He’d seen your bloodshot eyes and pink nose, your cheeks wet with tears. There was no way you could tell him you weren’t crying.

“You have to talk to me. Please, what did I do?”

The last thing you wanted was for him to think it was all his fault. It wasn’t, really. He didn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose; He couldn’t have known it would upset you in the slightest or that you were even in the hallway that night. 

“Nothing, Logan, please, just go away - “ you begged, still facing away with your face buried in your hands.

“I’m not leaving till you tell me what’s going on,” he said firmly, “you won’t even look at me. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry. Whatever it is, I’ll make it up to you.”

You still had your face buried in your hands when you felt the bed dip as he came to sit beside you.

“I miss you, you know. You won’t train with me anymore, you won’t come out with me, you won't talk to me. Please, I don’t know what to apologize for if you don’t tell me.”

His voice so close to you made your heart ache. You wanted to just hug him, tell him you missed him too, but you sat paralyzed. He really wasn’t going anywhere until you said something.

You removed your hands from your face, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. You took a long inhale, closing your eyes and trying not to let your voice crack.

“It’s nothing worth me saying aloud,” you muttered, gnawing on your bottom lip. You felt like you needed to, though - like a lump in your throat that you couldn’t cough up. 

“Please,” Logan’s voice was quiet, his hand arm coming to rest around your waist.

You squeezed your eyes shut and scrunched your face in an attempt not to cry even harder when he touched you. You had wanted him to for so long, but not like this. 

You inhaled sharply, standing up as you did so to pace around your room. You couldn’t sit still with his hand on you.

“I - “, you tried to speak, the words getting lodged in your throat, “ it’s not your fault. I’m not mad at you, it’s not that.”

“Then, what? Tell me. You know I’d do anything to help.”

He would, and that’s what made it all hurt so much worse; how sweet he could be to you. You reminded yourself that he was also probably like that with Jean and you shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the thought. 

“It’s so stupid, Logan, really - “

“Pretty girl, it’s not stupid if it’s making you cry.”

Pretty girl. He probably called her that too.

Fuck, you couldn’t get it out of your head no matter how bad you wished you could.

“Ugh,” you groaned, leaning your head back to stare at the ceiling. Maybe it would be easier to spit it out when you weren’t looking at him. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to get it all out in one go.

“A couple weeks ago, I went downstairs in the middle of the night and I saw you and Jean.”

You couldn’t see his expression, but Logan’s eyebrows were furrowed, completely lost on what exactly it was that you saw.

“And it’s so fucking stupid, I know, but I - “, you choked back a sob, “fuck. Logan, I love you. I’m sorry. I’m in love with you, I don’t know how to handle it, not when I know nothings ever gonna happen.”

When you didn’t hear a response, you dreaded the moment you finally tore your eyes from your ceiling. Logan was still in the same spot at the edge of the bed, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“Sweet heart - “, he began, but it only hurt you more to hear him call you stuff like that.

“Logan, please, I know, just - I don’t want it to be a big deal and you don’t have to give me the rejection speech, trust me.”

“Are you gonna let me explain?” His tone was mildly frustrated, though he was still clearly worried about you.

You sighed, hands on your hips as you stood almost completely across the room. He got up to meet you where you were. He wanted to put his hands on your shoulders but he could tell you didn’t want to be touched.

“Explain what?” You muttered, gaze glued to the floor when he stood in front of you.

“There’s nothing going on between Jean and I.”

Seeing that your expression never changed, he continued.

“I think I know what you saw. I hugged Jean, that’s what you’re talking about, right?”

You swallowed hard, dreading any details he wanted to spill. You still didn’t believe that there was nothing, convinced he was lying to save your feelings. You nodded anyway, still looking at the floor.

“I gave Jean a hug because her and Scott got into a fight. She said she fucked up and wanted my advice, I hugged her and that was all. Honey, I’m telling you, nothings going on.”

You were nearly turning pink at the realization that he was being truthful. 

“And another thing,” he began again, tentatively pulling your hands from your hips so he could hold them in his, “you think I don’t love you?”

You finally met his gaze then and his heart broke when he saw your watery eyes. He brought a hand up to wipe your tears, leaving it there to cup your face while his other still held your hand. 

“I love you. I’m in love with you, too. I don’t feel that way about Jean at all. I thought it was obvious, but I guess neither of us have the greatest communication skills, huh?” He laughed a little, nervously waiting for you to finally say something.

You were still soaking in his words, first about Jean and then about you. 

“Really?” You squeaked, unable to say anything more.

“Really, baby,” he said sweetly, continuing to wipe away your tears.

You sniffled and leaned into his touch, happy to just be near him again.

“I missed you too, you know. I miss everything about you. I just couldn’t look at you when I thought - I don’t know, when I thought you couldn’t love me like that. Oh god, I’m so stupid, Logan, I’m so sorry - “ you began to apologize and he cut you off, shaking his head.

“None of that, c’mere,” he pulled you into him gently, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to hug you. 

You smiled into his t-shirt. You missed the smell of his cologne, the warmth of him, the way he called you sweet names. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, standing on your toes to do so.

“I love you, Princess. I’m so glad I get to say it,” he mumbled into your hair, neither one of you letting go of the other, “and I’m a dumbass for not saying something sooner and letting you think all that.”

“No, I’m a dumbass because I should’ve said something sooner instead of assuming. I was just terrified, I guess.”

“No more being terrified, right?” He pulled away a little to look in your eyes.

You nodded, a smile on your face for the first time in weeks. You both stood there in the middle of your bedroom, frozen in an embrace with your eyes locked on each other.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his hand rubbing up and down your back reassuringly, “you can say no if it’s too soon -“

You leaned up to press your lips to his, not wanting to waste any more time than you already have. He kind of grunted in surprise, relaxing into your touch when you ran your fingers through his hair at the back of his head. It was better than you could have ever imagined. His lips were so soft and he was so gentle with how he held you that your knees could’ve buckled. He pulled away reluctantly after a few seconds, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“I didn’t wanna ruin anything,” he explained, tucking your hair behind your ear, “you know, just being with you. I would’ve swallowed it all down to be just your friend if it meant I wouldn't lose you.”

You brought both of your hands to cup his face, scratching lightly at his mutton chops, “Really?”

He nodded, kissing your forehead, your cheek and your lips again. It was sickeningly sweet, making you giggle into the kiss.

“What’s so funny?” 

“Nothin’. Just really happy.”

“Me too, pretty girl. Hey, you owe me a couple of movie nights, by the way.”

“Race you to the TV?”

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་

A/N: ik this ones pretty short but it was rotting in my google docs so here u go <3 pls like and reblog if you enjoyed!

[yokumirumerafan]

DS x reader (you accidentally sent a nude to them)

I did this with MHA boys and it's Demon Slayer turn!! Hope you enjoy <33

Hashiras:

🔥 Rengoku ("EXCELLENT FORM, Y/N!— Wait, what is this?!")

He’s literally mid-bite into his food when he sees the notification pop up on his phone. He casually opens it, expecting something completely normal—AND THEN HE CHOKES. Literally almost dies. His brain freezes, and in a reflex, he blurts out, "UMAI!" before realizing WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST SAY?!

After a full minute of staring, contemplating life choices, and sweating, he finally texts back:

"Ah, my love, is this the dish you intended to prepare for tonight?" 😳

(Translation: "I don’t know how to respond, so I'm pretending this is normal.")

🌊 Giyuu (internal crisis mode activated)

Giyuu opens the message, blinks once, blinks twice, then freezes like a Windows XP shutdown screen.

"Y/N… what the fuck… I’m at work."

BUT HE DOESN’T DELETE IT. Oh no, he saves it. But in his brain, he justifies it like, "Well, I’m her boyfriend, so it’s fine, right? I have a RIGHT to have my girlfriend’s photo, RIGHT?"

And now, he can't focus on his work because every time someone calls his name, he's thinking, Did they see? Do they know? Am I a disgrace to the Water Hashira name?

🌪 Sanemi (throws phone across the room)

The second he sees your name pop up with an image, he instinctively opens it. Big mistake.

He YEETS HIS PHONE ACROSS THE ROOM so hard it leaves a dent in the wall. "WHAT THE FUCK—"

After five minutes of pacing, running a hand through his hair, and cursing at thin air, he tiptoes over to pick up the phone, glances at it again (while muttering "just one more time"), and then saves it without thinking.

Two seconds later:

"You’re an idiot. But a fine-looking idiot. I’ll be teasing you about this forever."

And he DOES. Every chance he gets.

🎆 Tengen ("Flashy, but could use better lighting.")

Tengen examines the picture like a fucking ART CRITIC. His first thought isn’t "Wow, Y/N is hot." No, no. His first thought is: "This needs better lighting."

He literally squints at the screen, analyzing it like he’s about to write a professional review. Then he texts back:

"Next time, use the other lingerie set. And honestly, the lighting is a bit off—try positioning yourself near a window. Flashy things deserve proper presentation, after all."

His wives: "EXCUSE ME???" 💀💀💀

☁️ Muichiro ("Why would you send this? Oh well.")

He opens it. He blinks. He turns off his phone. He puts it in his pocket.

Five minutes later… he takes it out again.

He opens it one more time. He blinks again.

Then, without a single ounce of emotion, he saves it and deletes it five seconds later like he’s playing some kind of weird self-control game.

Finally, you get a text:

"Not sure what you want me to say."

💖 Mitsuri (blushes so hard she faints)

Poor girl. She literally malfunctions. As soon as she sees the image, she lets out the cutest little squeak and FLINGS HER PHONE.

She tries to calm herself down by drinking tea but her hands are shaking. She tries to breathe but her lungs are malfunctioning. She tries to text you back but her fingers won’t work.

Eventually, she FAINTS.

You don’t get a response for HOURS until she finally texts:

"OMG Y/N I DIDN’T EXPECT THAT BUT WOW YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL BUT ALSO OMG I THINK I DIED FOR A SECOND???"

🐍 Obanai (stares in judgment but secretly combusts)

He reads the message. His face doesn’t change. His expression remains 100% deadpan.

But on the inside? His soul is burning in hellfire.

He grabs Kaburamaru, his snake, and just whispers, "What do I do with this?" 💀

Finally, he texts back:

"This is highly inappropriate."

...And then IMMEDIATELY follows up with:

"Not that I dislike it. Just saying."

Main Trio + Genya:

🐉 Tanjiro (IMMEDIATE APOLOGY TEXT BACK)

The moment he opens the picture, his soul leaves his body.

He panics so hard he starts BOWING TO HIS PHONE.

Then, he starts typing like a madman.

"I'M SORRY! I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEE THIS, I SHOULDN’T HAVE LOOKED, PLEASE FORGIVE ME, I RESPECT YOU, I WILL DELETE THIS, I AM UNWORTHY—"

⚡ Zenitsu (NO THOUGHTS, JUST NOSEBLEED)

Zenitsu SCREAMS. FAINTS. DIES. REVIVES.

Then he saves it.

Then he faints again.

Then he texts you:

"Y/N. I'M NEVER LETTING GO OF THIS PHONE."

(Tanjiro beats his ass immediately.)

🐗 Inosuke (doesn’t understand but likes the colors)

Inosuke literally tilts his head like a confused puppy.

"Oh, this is that game you were talking about, right?"

He likes the colors and the angles, but he has absolutely no clue what he’s looking at. 💀

🔫 Genya (deletes and prays for forgiveness)

As soon as he opens it, his whole body shuts down. His face is redder than Sanemi’s rage.

He immediately deletes it like it’s a crime, but when you tell him it’s okay to keep it, he just…

"I… uh… I mean… uh… I— ERROR 404 GENYA NOT FOUND."

Upper Moons + Muzan:

🥊 Akaza ("RESPECT WOMEN" mode activated)

He bows to his phone.

"I MUST NOT LOOK. BUT I MUST. BUT I MUSTN’T."

He puts the phone down and just stares at it like it’s cursed.

❄️ Douma (SAVING IT, ZOOMING IN, SETTING AS WALLPAPER 💀)

No hesitation.

SAVES. ZOOMS IN. SET AS LOCK SCREEN.

And then he texts you back:

"Mmm, lovely. You got more?"

(Y/N BLOCKED HIM.)

👁 Kokushibo ("Unnecessary." But is sweating profusely)

"Unnecessary."

But he doesn’t delete it.

🩸 Muzan ("Kneel." …Excuse me, sir?? 😳💀)

No words. Just one command.

"Kneel."

…HUH??? 😳💀

[megalomaniacz]

SWEET CHERRY 🍒

camgirl!reader x toxic actually loserish really pathetic!vi

diva mode activated halfway through writing this…guys idk i’m gay okay and if it isn’t good i never wrote it…okay? erm nsfw!! listened to tate mcrae and charli while writing this if that means anything to u. also, my birthday is tomorrow!! might drunkenly pump out a toxic!cait one shot OMG WHO SAIDDDD THAT

PART ONE: $EX. LIE$. UGLY. TRUTH.

the time on her computer screen read 11:07 pm. you were two minutes behind schedule. every regular viewer, including vi, was on the edge of their seat. licking at chapped lips and rubbing lotiony hands together. eyes wide with wonder, refreshing the site every 10 seconds until you popped onto screen.

you were wearing your signature cherry red lingerie, flawless makeup, soft pop music playing in the back. nails sharp and adorned with cherries. you held a sucker that read eat me in your hand, slowly unwrapping it for the camera. “hi cherries, guess what flavor this is.”

vi was foaming at the fucking mouth, adjusting the computer in her lap. eyes glued to the screen while she bit her lip and held onto your every word.

you moved closer to the screen. “grape? chat what do you mean? cmon guess and you get a prizeeee.”

the way you spoke, singing your words. ending the sentence in a suggestive tone. your sultry manner and bedroom eyes. everything was driving vi up a goddamn wall. you were all that and bag of fucking chips. she couldn’t stop thinking about you since she found a video of you fucking yourself with a dildo on an adult site. lezgetbusy or something fucking stupid. scrolled through the comments (5,000) until someone alluded to the fact that you cammed.

then she followed your profile and immediately paid your $50 messaging fee.

in all honesty, she was talking to herself in there half the time. the rare moments in which you did respond gave her a euphoria she couldn’t contain. she wanted to fuck you. no, she needed to fuck you. with her fingers, her tongue, her strap, and whatever the hell else will fit up there. it was driving her crazy.

grandSurpass: grape lol

justmyego: strawberry?

Several_means: lick it again please :(

she rolled her eyes at the screen. “idiotic men, it’s fucking cherry.” she begins to tap in the chat. she presses send, and when she sees you reading it? mouthing her comment? she nearly chokes, feeling her face flush.

“very good, vi? violet22. very good.”

her hands were stuffed into her pants now, legs spread while she toys with herself. you said her name. you said her fucking name! she throws her head back, thinking about how easily it fell off your tongue.

“since you guessed right, you get, drumroll pleaseeee.”

she was close now. pool of wetness filling her boxers. legs shaking, mouth wide open. please keep talking, please keep talking…please…

“a chance to chat with me personally! this stream, and others, will be a bit shorter as i’ve decided i’ll be doing one on one chats with some lucky cherries. congratulations vio-“

she slams her computer shut, takes her hand out of her pants, and jumps off her bed. stumbles into her bathroom, washes her hands and splashes water on her face, then stumbles back to her room. reopens her computer, runs a hand down her face, types in the website url again. logs in. clicks watch stream. and checks under her ass for shit because she swears she just shat herself. just now.

“oh, vi is back. okay guys.” you swish the lollipop around in your mouth a bit before continuing to speak. “i’m going to send you a link in private message, violet22. see you soon!” a toothy and cheery smile spread across your sweet face.

the second the link shows up in her inbox, she clicks it. hits the $200hr pay wall. fumbles in her pockets for her wallet, fuck she left it in the bathroom okay she’s got it dammit she’s shaking. can barely put the card numbers in. she’s making you wait she’s making you wait fuck.

after payment is secured, you in all your sweet glory, pop up on her screen. you’re sat on your bed, sucker hanging from your lips, fiddling with your freshly manicured nails. you hear the ding, realized she’s joined, and lay on your belly. tits squeezing together on the bed.

“hi! violet22? is that you? i can’t see you, turn your camera on!”

oh fucking fuck the fuck fuck fuckity FUCK FUCK. she has no time to fix her face up for you, or change out of her 2 day old t shirt. atleast you can’t smell her through the screen. she clicks on the small camera icon in left corner of the screen, and puts on an awkward smile.

“hi. there you are.” you smile, kicking your feet.

“hi sweet cherry. fuck. i’ve come to your videos so much nothing gets me so worked up. fuck. sorry.”

you giggle a bit and her face visibly becomes 3 shades redder. looks like she’s got some sort of filter on.

“it’s okay. thank you so much, your support means the world to me. do you have any personal requests while you’ve got me? clocks counting down.” you pucker your lips.

the time on the right corner of the screen is counting down 4:56…4:55…

vi’s eyes widen, and she gulps. finding it hard to think of anything to say. she was in complete shock. you’re looking at her. talking to her. you’re talking to her,,,oh fuck you’re talking to her.

“i-i’m- hmmm.” she stutters, picking at a hangnail. the clocks on 4:01 now and her heart seems to damn near be beating out of her chest.

“how about we play a quick game, okay? and next time, maybe you’ll have something thought of. maybe we’ll have more time…” your smile melts her heart. next time? GEE WILLIKERS!!! someone check this bitches pulse.

“okay.” she nods, barely present. still unsure if this is some sort of orgasm induced illusion.

“if you can guess the word i’m thinking of, i’ll take an extra special picture just for you. kay?”

you wink and she feels like the wind has been knocked out of her. she gives you a small nod, and it makes you laugh. she’s so cute and pathetic.

3:48…3:47

“okay. it’s a type of flower.” you lick your sugar ridden lips, putting the entire sucker in your mouth then pulling it out slowly.

vi’s about to piss herself. or is that come? man these boxers are gonna need a deep clean.

“is it a rose? a tulip?”

you shake your head, taunting smirk on your face. “try again, cutie.”

oh she’s so gonna ride a pillow with your picture on it tonight. might even get the picture all wet with her slick, imagine her sweet pussy on your perfectly plump lips. wait what was the question?

“ummm lillies? dandelions? sunflowers?”

you shake your head, sticking your tongue out and directly swiping it over the fading words. eat me do you know how bad she wants to?

“hint, please?” she looks at you with sad eyes. feels like she’s being edged or something. pussy growing wetter by the minute FUCK 2:49…2:48

“cmon, you’re smart. use that big brain of yours.” you follow with a taunting laugh. she’s too fucking horny for this, and you look so good. she wonders how you feel. your skin. bet it’s warm and soft. bet you’d grip the sheets when nipped at your thighs. back arching-

“daises? did i say that already?”

you shake your head and look over at the small timer taking a bite out of the sucker, now it reads at me.

“lavender is a flower? right?”

you sit up on the bed, and she watches the way you widen your thighs. pretty little red bow right above your pussy. you arch your back, ass in the air, chewing on the candy. “close.”

the money she’d spend to have one night with you. ass up face buried in your silky red sheets. cock buried so deep in your pussy it’s kissing your stomach. WHAT WAS THE QUESTION AGAIN?

“aww your time is up.” you pout. there’s five seconds. vi’s drooling, all over herself. like actually. she wipes her mouth, slow blinking, taking mental pictures.

“the word was violet, silly! see you next stream.”

fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck