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caiuscassiuss · 5 years ago

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Birched⎮D. Sicheng (M) P.2

Description: There was something that lurked beneath that pretty boy smile of Dong Sicheng— something dark, something dangerous… something you knew you would get pulled into once you got too curious. (Or, your ill-tempered coworker turns out to be your dominant.)

Part One is HERE

Genre: BDSM/ enemies to lovers winwin! smut | romance | angst WC: 11k+ Warnings: graphic smut (dom! sicheng + sub! reader, BDSM (Bondage, Dominance, Submission, and Masochism) choking, rough sex), taboo relationship, blatant sexism, TW: mentions of an abusive relationship

(A/N: Thank you to my amazing beta @won-markiepooh-woo for helping me. This wouldn’t have been possible without you!)

Saturday February 1st, 2020

Y/N’s Apartment

10 AM HKT

The little jingle of a FaceTime call echoed through your silent apartment, and you snuggled into the sheets of your bed.

“Hello? Kun huang?”

A flash black hair and a sweet smile appeared within the view of the camera.

“Huang Gua!” you exclaimed.

Instantly, the happy smile slipped off his face and transformed into an annoyed expression.

“Can you not? We’ve been over this,” he complained.

“Oh come on! It’s so funny,” you jibed.

“It’s not.”

“You only used to eat cucumbers for years. You earned that name yourself.”

“So?” he snorted. “You used to eat shrimp chips as a kid. I don’t call you shrimp, do I?” A devious expression flashed over his face.

“Kun Huang…” you warned.

“Maybe I should start now. Right, shrimp?”

“Oh my god, stop!”

“No, shrimp. I can keep going, you know.”

“Okay, fine, fine. I submit!” You laughed.

He chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”

“So how are you now, Hendery? How’s your mom and dad? Oh my gosh, Hengwai!”

“I’m doing fine, as are mom and dad. Hengwai misses her little sister. They all want you to call them more. Sometimes I think they miss you more than me.” He pouted.

“Awww, poor baby. But give them my well wishes too! I miss everyone so much,” you said. For some reason, tears welled in your eyes.

Obviously, Hendery could tell you were about to start crying and started to panic.

“Y/N? Talk to me. Oh, you know I can’t take it if you start crying!”

He never really could. Even after many years spent together in your childhood, he was still awkward as hell around your tears.

You waved him off, swiping the tears. “I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just so lonely around here.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m fine! I swear!”

“Literally, one word and I’m on a flight to Hong Kong. I’m not playing,” he said gravely.

“Hendery, no. Besides, don’t you have some farms to run? I would never expect you to do that.”

“One word, Y/N. Just one.” He looked you dead in the eye.

You looked away. “Anyways, how are your farms going?”

A smile split his face and his eyes sparked. “Guess who just got their hundredth farm?”

Your jaw dropped. “No way, you’re fucking joking! One hundred?! I’m so proud of you! Kun Huang!” you squealed.

“Yeah, I know right? It’s so weird knowing so many people depend on me for their livelihoods now. I get sort of scared when I sit back and think about it…”

As Kun Huang went on about his day to day troubles in agriculture, a small, wistful smile played upon your lips. Why didn’t you just stay back and fall in love with Kun Huang? It would have been so easy. Being with Kun Huang was like breathing, and you could’ve spent the rest of your life like this. No Minghao, no BDSM, and most importantly, no… him.

Dolos.

Master?

Sicheng.

You hated how smoothly the puzzle pieces fit together. Sicheng always left early on Fridays, even though he always stayed late. At office parties, he lacked a significant other by his side, even when many would drop everything if he so much as winked at them.

It was hard not to think about him. You had started to feel an increase in your heartbeat whenever you thought of Dolos before Wednesday. You had originally wanted to know who was behind Dolos’ mask and if he returned those feelings. But, fuck, he would be so mad if he found out who you were.

Not to mention, how humiliating it would be if he knew. You had staked everything on being a cold-hearted bitch when Sicheng took particular pleasure in sneering at “the inherent submissiveness” of her gender. So if he found out Dove, who liked to be slapped during sex, and her, the la dame sans merci of the company, were the same person, it would destroy any chance of credibility you may have had in his eyes.

This was all one big mess. One big, gigantic and catastrophic mess. For so long you had rigorously kept your professional and personal lives apart, but the universe had conspired against you: to make the best dominant you ever had to also be your work nemesis.

Some higher being was laughing at you, you knew it.

Sunday February 2nd, 2020

The Dong Family Villa on the Shek O Peninsula, Hong Kong

1 PM HKT

A curl of disgust twisted his lips as he looked down on the lawn party going down below him.

“Don’t you look happy, Sicheng.”

Sicheng acknowledged ChengCheng out of the corner of his eye and went back to glaring at the party in contempt.

“This is not how I wanted today to go.”

His childhood friend snorted and plopped himself down in a lawn chair, contemplating the blond haired man.

Sicheng spun around and picked up his glass of wine, downing the drink in one gulp. He settled himself next to ChengCheng with a frown.

“I just wanted to come here and fucking relax, but, no, my parents just had to use it for the fucking party. Fete. What-fucking-ever.” He exhaled loudly and ran his hands through his hair.

Chengcheng looked over the balcony railing curiously. “Looks like a luncheon to me.”

“Fuck off.”

“Christ, what’s up your ass?”

“Just some work stuff. It’s nothing.”

The brown-haired man frowned. “Then why aren’t you at Black’s then? Nothing can’t be resolved by a good fuck.”

At the mention of the club, a pained expression flashed over Sicheng’s face and his knuckles inadvertently tightened around the stem of his glass. The tension that had been in shoulders wounded itself up even more and this clued ChengCheng in.

Something other than work had Sicheng in knots. Very rarely did the blond man ever show he was angry—not even when his father lashed him as a child, nor when the family forced him to work for the company—so he was evidently very troubled by this ‘something’.

Sicheng’s phone rang and broke the silence. The man himself fished it out of his back pocket irritatedly.

“Excuse me for a moment, ChengCheng. I need to take this phone call.”

“Sicheng speaking,” he spoke as he stalked into the study.

“Hello sir, how are you—”

“Did you get the information or not?” Sicheng asked, cutting off the family’s retainer. His leg bounced, as he sat against the desk and he ran a weary hand through his hair.

“A-ah, unfortunately, Black’s doesn’t record pseudonyms digitally or on paper…”

“Fuck!” Sicheng yelled. Mr. Lau just had to be fucking careful, he thought irritably.

“... However, sir, I was able to obtain a membership list since the club was digitally updating their monthly list. I then compared it to the list from the previous month and found several missing names, indicative of them terminating their membership. I have compiled a dossier of several females that match your description of Dove and forwarded it to you.”

Sicheng quickly logged into his laptop, his blood rushing through his ears. The identity of the most perfect submissive he’s ever had could literally be sitting in his inbox right now.

With trembling fingers, he opened the attachment.

Wang Fang, age 25—

“Sir?”

The blond man glared at his phone. “Thank you for your service, Liu Wei. Goodbye.”

Wang Fang was a tall, spindly woman with a face like a horse. The policy of privacy by masks was kind to her at Black’s. However, the jaw was all wrong and he knew in his gut she was not his Dove.

He scrolled to the next page. Leila Williams, age 27—British expat, was absolutely gorgeous. But, even through the screen, she exuded an unshakable aura of self-assurance. A dominatrix, probably, so that excluded her from his search.

He went through 2 or 3 more documents; each one too plain or too ordinary to be Dove.

Y/N L/N, age XX.

Sicheng blinked rapidly, sagging into his office chair.

Y/N is—was—a member at Black’s?

The picture provided was the one from her LinkedIn profile: a professional headshot with a grey background. She was smiling tightly, coldly—just as she was in the office. The other image provided instantly tented his pants.

It was her, clearly on a night out. She was in attire that flattered her body and he could easily see himself running his hands over her. Y/N looked fucking fantastic with her unbound hair, so unlike her tight updos at the office. However, what drew his eyes was the most vibrant shade of red painted on her lips, which was parted slightly as she was laughing.

He recognized that lipstick. The same shade of firetruck red had been smeared across Dove’s cheeks many, many times. YSL Rouge Satin Lipstick—the one he told her he liked and she, like a good girl, had religiously worn.

Could that mean…?

Glancing at the side bar, he noticed there was one more page left in the dossier. Please let the next one be Dove…

His hopes were instantly deflated. Kwon Myunghee was too old and too artificial to be his gorgeous submissive.

With his heart in his throat, he scrolled back to Y/N’s page. Enlarging the picture of her laughing, he put a hand over her eyes and leaned back to observe.

Sicheng would be an absolute fool if he did not recognize that mouth. Red fuck me! lipstick on an equally fuckable mouth parted in pleasure, or screaming his name while strung up on a cross. He would be an absolute fool if he did not recognize that neck, covered in purple and red hickies or his fingermarks. An absolute damn fool.

Yet, at this moment, he would’ve given anything to be one.

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Y/N was… Dove? And Dove… was Y/N?

So why did she leave? How did she end up at Black’s? Did she know? Did she end up there on purpose? Why—

Eventually, all the questions piled up in his head until he was left winded. Sicheng buried his head in his hands, pulling at his blond locks and breathing heavily. Something was bubbling in his chest and—

He started to laugh. He cackled, howled, at his shitstorm of misfortune, luck, and confusion until he was sprawled undignified on the Oriental carpet, staring up at the intricate wood carvings on the ceiling.

Monday February 3rd, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

6 PM HKT

Shutting the door to your office, you collapsed into your chair and massaged your temples.

Today was the day Mr. Lee had left the office, leaving his official resignation. The top sales officials (including an off-color, brooding Sicheng) gathered in his office to congratulate him and give him an official goodbye. What was supposed to be a quick meet-up turned into afternoon drinking when Mr. Lee pulled out the good liquor from a secret cabinet underneath his desk. You accepted a drink with a grimace, but Sicheng declined and remained uncharacteristically detached the entire time. Granted, you too were detached from the conversation, uncomfortable with the lewd retirement and mistress jeers spouted by the older sales officials as they steadily got drunker and less inhibited.

As the time ended and a consensus to leave had been reached, you thought you could escape and actually work... that was until Mr. Lee walked alongside you and stuck himself in the elevator with you.

The bastard had the audacity to grope your ass in the crowded elevator. You shivered, remembering the awful and grimy feeling as his hot breath whispered in your ear that he was available any time for a “catch-up”.

This day was a mess. You had a shit-ton of work to catch up due to that fucking meeting and you had been sexually harrassed; you were also anxious about the promotion and, on top of that, you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Sicheng.

Huffing, you ate some red-bean bread as you powered up your desktop. This was fucking ridiculous. You knew Sicheng had noticed your odd, reticent behavior around him and this skittishness was impeding your ability to work. Well, no better way to forget about your problems was to solve other ones at work.

For the next two hours, you slogged through work emails and analytics as the sun set over Kowloon Bay. Your hair had been unbound and your blazer had been messily thrown over the back of your chair as your work progressed. Since most of the office had left by now, you figured it was safe to relax in your office.

It was night time by the time you had finished your last project and you sat back in your chair, staring at the skyline. Was this how your life destined to be? At the top, surrounded by the comforts of life, but alone?

A knock sounded at the door, jolting you out of your thoughts.

Who the fuck would be at the office at 8 PM?

“Come in.”

You caught sight of a golden head of hair slipping inside of your office and you sighed. Of course, it was Sicheng.

He took a seat unbidden and stared at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. His eyes roamed the contours and curves of your features.

You arched an eyebrow. “Can I help you with anything, Sicheng? I’m about to leave the office.”

He fought with himself inwardly, his mouth opened and closed several times before he finally settled on what he wanted to say. “I’d like to ask a question.”

You adjusted yourself in the chair. “Feel free.”

From his blazer’s pocket, he pulled out an aged sheet of paper and slowly opened it, before setting it in front of you. Sicheng settled back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his lap, the lights of the Hong Kong skyline playing across his face and making his sharp features stand out.

“Do you recognize this?”

The blood literally froze in your veins as your eyes caught sight of your handwriting in the letter, along with the tear-stains that blotched the paper and the text. Your heartbeat rose to your throat and all you felt was the blood rushing in your ears.

“Y/N?” he prodded.

You gulped and straightened out your top, your fingers trembling as you did so.

“No, I don’t. W-who’s Dolos? Why does this concern me?” you lied, stumbling a bit.

He watched you, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed.

“Don’t lie to me, Dove.”

“I-Dove? My name is Y/N,” you replied shakily. Grabbing your purse, you hurriedly stuffed all your personal belongings in while avoiding catching his seething stare. “Excuse me, I’d really like to get home.”

His jaw clenched and his palm twitched as he saw you had no desire to come clean.

“Look at me.”

Unthinking, you ceased all movements, put your trembling hands in your lap and looked up at him. “Sir?”

Your eyes widened and you slapped a hand over your mouth; your eyes darted around the room in search for an escape. You felt akin to a caged animal as he grinned meanly, incongruous on his cherubic features.

“That’s what I thought.”

“No—”

“You thought you could get away with this? You thought you could fucking play me?!”

You were aghast at seeing Dolos and Sicheng finally merging together in front of your eyes, and the result was grotesquely beautiful. His grin slipped off his face and twisted into a malevolent sneer. The naked fire in Dolos' gaze was finally unveiled in Sicheng’s eyes and, for the first time, you could see who Sicheng really was.

“Answer me, Dove—Y/N! Fuck, I don’t even know who you are anymore!” Sicheng shouted, running his hands through his hair while he paced around your office.

You stared unblinkingly at the bookshelf at the corner of the room. Fuck, this was all your nightmares coming true. You were going to be ruined and he was going to laugh on and on now that he knew you and Dove were the same.

“It was never supposed to end up like this,” you whispered hoarsely, tears welling up underneath your lashes.

“How was it supposed to end, huh? Fuck, you strung me along for six months—half a fucking year—”

“I didn’t fucking know, you ass! I wouldn’t have touched you with a ten foot pole if I knew who you were!” you hissed.

He laughed harshly. “You did a hell of a lot more than touch me, Dove. But after you got your fix, you pretended that this never happened.”

“You would’ve done the same, so this never did happen. Walk out right now and this will have never happened and we can go back to our normal, spiteful dynamic—”

“You’re out of your fucking mind, if you think—”

“You don’t understand, Sicheng! Can’t you see I’ll be ruined by this? That we’ll both be ruined by this? I can’t afford that!”

“So you thought to just leave me? With just a fucking letter and nothing else?”

“I didn’t know, okay! I didn’t know what to do!”

“You lied to me, Y/N. Fucking lied to my face!”

“I had to! Because you and I were never supposed to find out!”

Sicheng moved to yell, but clamped his jaw shut. “You lying, cheating, slut,” he seethed.

Your mouth trembled for a moment at the sheer vitriol that sprouted from his lips, but you stood tall. “You know what? Maybe I am. But I can live with that if you’d just fucking let it go!”

“You think I’d be able to let go of this?!” He cupped your jaw roughly and pulled you into a hungry kiss.

It wasn’t a smooth kiss—not one with even a hint of finesse. Lips smashed into lips, with tongue and teeth grappling against each other as his hands bruised your wrists.

Your back hit your desk and he swept your belongings off the desk haphazardly, letting go of your chin to lift you onto the desk with no effort.

“Forget my tongue on your skin? Forget my hands in between your thighs?” he murmured between hungry dips of his tongue. “I’ll fucking show you.”

He kissed down your neck, stopping to nip at your collarbone, and left a trail of stinging lovebites all over your shoulders. Sicheng’s hips pinned you into the desk as he popped each button of your blouse, hurriedly ripping it to the side to leave more hickies upon your chest and breasts.

You moaned as he pushed the cups of your bra down, using his wicked tone to swipe complicated patterns but never once touching your tips. Finally, he nipped at them hard causing you to squeal embarrassingly.

“S-sicheng,” you whimpered, gripping his hair as he pushed up your skirt.

The blond man carelessly pulled your underwear aside and thrusted two fingers in.

“Fuck!” you gasped, as you buried your red face in the crook of his neck.

You couldn’t see it, but you knew he was smirking smugly so your hands drifted down to his tented trousers and gripped his erection hard.

“You wanna fucking play? Let’s play, baby,” he grunted and hastily unbuckled his belt. His glorious cock sprung up in the space between your thighs.

Sicheng pushed your back down onto the desk, leaving him to tower over you. Without warning, he roughly pushed his cock into your slit.

You both groaned at the pleasurable friction. Fuck, how could you forget this? His length stretching you out deliciously? His broad shoulders heaving in exertion?

He bottomed out slowly, stilling as his hips pressed into yours. A sly smile glanced over his face as his hand drifted over your neck.

“Sicheng! You asshole, fucking move!” you said to him, thrusting your own hips weakly for effect.

His devilish smile split his angelic features, and he shook his head. “Wrong name, Dove.”

His hips pushed into yours roughly and you whined, scratching at the edges of your desk. Sicheng withdrew just as quickly and thrusted in again, watching the lust ripple upon your expression. He had missed the way your left eyebrow ticked when he brushed against your G-Spot, your nose scrunching as you clasped his shoulders. Finally seeing your full expressions fulfilled something in him that he didn’t care to reflect upon.

After deep, staccato thrusts that had you gasping for breath, he settled into a smooth rhythm. You slapped a hand over your mouth as your back bowed, thrusting your breasts up to his hungry perusal. Unable to resist temptation—the godless Tantalus he was—he settled his plump lips over your nipples, raised his eyes to yours, and sucked.

Even with your palm practically stuffed in your lips, your keen echoed around the room loudly and slick dripped down your thighs, making the desk underneath your bottom sticky and wet.

He tsked, lifting his head up and looked deeply into your eyes. A slight grin settled over his lips and Sicheng tilted his head mockingly. “Oh sweet girl, haven’t you forgotten we’re in an office?” His eyes darkened even more. “I’ll have to keep you quiet, then, whore.”

His featherlight touches on your rib cage was replaced with a bruising grasp to your throat, stealing the air out of you. His wrist settled into your collar bone and his slender fingers mimicked playing the piano, placing pressure on different parts on your throat to an unheard rhythm. The blood rushed to your ears, the dizzying sensation of it blurring your sight and distorting your thoughts. The veins on his forehand, twisting and rippling in the light, caught your vision and he moved—ever so roughly—into you.

Sicheng set a new pace, stretching your legs even wider and your head fell back onto the desk with a thunk. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe; you just felt the numbing sort of pleasure that radiated from your pussy.

“Fucking slut,” he gasped. “You’ve bewitched me, haven’t you? Wrapped yourself around my brain and haven’t let me so much as breathe without thinking about you.” His grip tightened around your neck. “I’ll show you.”

Suddenly, your phone on the floor rang and you both froze. He released the grip on your neck and bent down.

His back was like one of those old sketches the masters of the age practiced with, the light played upon his back and his muscles rippled under his skin—belying the power hidden within him.

“Who the fuck is Kunhuang,” he said flatly, wrath bubbling in his words.

You sat up. “H-he’s a friend. Nobody. No one.”

“See you soon, love,” he read mockingly. “Call me when you have time.”

Sicheng crowded into your space, your eyes jumping around to avoid looking at his incensed face.

“Kunhuang.” He spat like it was filth upon his lips. “You left me for him?”

Feeling his constrained fierceness and his frantic gaze, you pushed harshly at his chest and bared your teeth at him. “It’s not like that. He’s my childhood friend!”

His rage bubbled to the surface and his nostrils flared. It was all the warning you had before he suddenly took your hips and flipped, forcing a scream out of you.

Your chest and breasts now pressed against your desk. Sicheng tugged you down to his hips, lifting one of your legs to rest on your desk and exposed your core to him shamefully.

“I’ll take you from behind like the whore you are,” he stated. His rough tenor the grating upon your ears and scraping upon your skin.

He lined up and thrusted hard and you bit your lip, cheek against your deck and tears streaming down your face. It felt so good to be in his embrace, feeling every vein and ridge of his cock rub against your muscles.

Soon, you felt that feeling rising in your stomach, burning behind his eyelids as your orgasm began to build. His hands grasped your throat and he pulled, bowing your back to his chest and forcing his mouth to yours.

Teeth and tongue clashed and his cock hit this spot in you and you screamed into his mouth, tensing up beneath him as you shuddered painfully.

A grunt left him as he felt your muscles nearly strangle his cock and he only lasted a few, staccato thrusts until his vision went white.

Wednesday, February 13th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

7 AM HKT

You purposely did not look into Sicheng’s office window as you strode briskly down the hall with a coffee in your hand.

A few days ago felt like a watershed moment, but after you two had caught your breaths, the sheer amount of emotions in the room—frustration, satiation, anger, hunger—weighed upon your lips and forced them shut. He had quickly dressed himself, not saying a word, but he casted a glance in your direction that was undecipherable and left.

You, at the moment, did not know how to feel. Hurt? Angry? Sad? But you settled upon your usual solution: ignoring that anything had happened and resuming the normal.

Alas, the fates were unkind. They neatly disposed of your plans to avoid the man when the two of you were scheduled to meet with other sales heads in the afternoon. Unfortunately, when the time came to be, you and Sicheng were the first ones there.

He studiously avoided looking at you, busying himself by opening up his laptop and flipping to a new page on his legal pad. You ignored him as well, scrolling through the latest news on your webpage. However, as the seconds ticked by, you could not resist resting your eyes upon him. It felt like a damn magnet was pulling your gaze to him.

He looked good today, from the brief glances you stole at him. Freshly shaven, his hair was styled neatly and he was in a dark green, cashmere sweater. Was this your fate? To be shamefully attracted to a man that equally repelled you?

“Interesting.”

The both of you shot a look at the door, where an unrecognizable, lanky man with a proud, straight nose was peering down upon you and swinging a plastic bag in his hand.

“Chengcheng? What the hell are you doing here?”

Completely ignoring Sicheng, he settled his lidded gaze upon you before his eyes lit up in recognition.

“So you’re the one that has shaken him, then.”

Dead silence permeated the room. He looked at the two shocked faces, both ashen. “What? Are you going to tell me I’m wrong? Please. I’d have to be deaf, blind, and dumb to ignore the way you two gravitate to each other.”

Your two quick glances that were meant to be unnoticed clashed, resulting in your eyes meeting. You both turned your eyes away.

Chengcheng snorted, as if that moment confirmed everything for him, and he chucked a bag at Sicheng.

“You forgot your lunch, remember?”

Sicheng’s jaw tightened. “Thank you.”

Once again, awkward silence reigned and ChengCheng’s eyes switched back and forth between you like a particularly exciting tennis match.

“You two need to talk. You’ll both age prematurely at this rate, with the angst you two are producing. Talk.”

He left with a wave, striding down the hall casually and stealing many of your female coworkers’ gazes.

“... He’s right, you know.”

Sicheng’s eyes flicked up to yours and he focused his full attention on you. Intensely, he contemplated you, tongue poking at the sides of his mouth.

“I agree. We can meet—” he cut himself off, looking around surreptitiously. “—at Black’s.”

You sucked your lip in between your teeth. “Fine. Neutral ground.”

He took a good, long look at you, like a man seeing water after seeing nothing but sand.

“Tonight. At 8.”

Thursday, February 13th, 2020

Black’s

7:50 PM HKT

Strangely enough, you felt comfortable despite the jittery nerves under your skin as you walked into Black’s.

The receptionist had given you a knowing look as you repeated the guest password, letting you in without question. You strapped on the standard, white lace mask and steeled yourself, opening the mahogany doors.

The club was abnormally busy; the guests and members crowded the couches and loitered on the floor. The quiet string music that could usually be heard was masked by the loud chattering of the people in the room.

“Is that you, Dove?”

You spun around to see the smiling, wizened face of Mr. Liu.

A grin broke out on your face and you took his hands. “Mister Liu! It is wonderful to see you.”

“I am happy to see you as well.” He chuckled with his eyes gleaming fondly at you. “Have you decided to visit this old man?”

Playfully, you lightly smacked his shoulder.

Mr. Liu was an important figure to you. All those months ago, when you arrived at Black’s to be screened, as a potential member and straight out of a relationship with Minghao—broken, shattered, hollow—he took one look at you and said no.

Why? You remembered asking tearfully. Am I not pretty enough? Rich enough?

He searched your pale, wan face, as if seeing the emotional scars Minghao had lashed into you, before sighing.

You shouldn’t be asking me that. Are you enough for yourself?

Confused, you had asked him to elaborate. He sympathetically replied that he could see you were entering the club for the wrong reasons. You were different, he’d said. You looked so innocent that he could not morally allow you into the club, despite the depraved patrons that gained membership. He knew, at the time, entering the club would cripple you.

So, what now? You asked, confused. He said he would keep your file open until you came back ‘at the right time.’

The ‘right time?’

You will know it when it comes.

And somehow, you did. After a few months of picking the pieces of yourself together and stabilizing your life, you had grown into a physically and emotionally healthy person. The “right moment” came and you sat in his quaint little office again, opposite of a smiling Mr. Liu as he stamped his approval.

After chatting a few moments, the volume in the room increased slightly and you frowned.

“Why is it so busy today?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you know what today is?”

“No?”

“Today is the evening before Valentine’s day, dear girl.”

“... Oh.”

New information in hand, you looked at the scene more closely. You could see that some couples in the crowd seemed to curl into each other, the affectionate brushes and knowing glances giving you a sick, sick feeling.

And that’s when you saw Sicheng.

Even masked, he drew attention from the members—attached and non-attached. His lean, fit form struck a figure and you couldn’t turn away from him.

He looked directly into your eyes and only a few seconds passed by as you two observed each other.

“Sicheng somehow found out, hm? Clever, devious boy.” Mr. Liu observed the dynamic much like ChengCheng earlier. His gaze was enraptured how the two of you clashed yet sunk into each other, the way two tidal waves—in a rare moment of offbeat rhythm—struck each other and subsequently merged. Push, pull, push, pull.

“Listen to him and he will listen to you. You two match more than you think,” he advised, bowed, and sunk off into the backrooms.

“Sicheng.”

“Y/N.”

Frustratingly, his face was unreadable. Nevertheless, he offered you his arm (a surprising show of manners) and he led you to a place you had never seen before.

This place was much less pristine than the rest of the club. The wallpaper was older, much more faded, and the wood looked much more worn.

This was one of Mr. Liu’s apartments.

The pair of you entered a comfortable sitting room with the lights low, to which only large candles had been lit.

He made sure you were properly ensconced into an armchair before he turned his back towards you and made his way to the drink carts.

“Would you like something to drink?” Sicheng asked, voice measured.

“A gin tonic would be wonderful.”

After carefully making your drink and pouring himself a healthy 4 fingers of bourbon, he handed your glass to you and sat down in the chair opposite of you.

Silence permeated awkwardly and you turned your eyes towards the tapestry in the middle of the room, giving yourself something to do.

“Were those feelings true?” he asked, not looking at you.

“Elaborate, please.”

“The last night…” He looked quickly at you, before turning his eyes away and clenching his jaw. “The last night we were together.”

“Ah.”

Absolutely, unequivocally. Dolos was everything you had searched for in Minghao and, while your relationship was unusual, you could not deny the string between you two.

Something burned at your eyes and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Yes. Then and now,” you stated, opening yourself up for an attack.

His eyes widened and the twitching in his fingers stopped.

“And you, Sicheng?” you enquired boldly.

“Always,” he stated without hesitation. “It was never something as trivial as pillow talk.”

Seeing as he was on the brink of closing off, due to his rare moment of vulnerableness, you wrapped your hand around his.

His eyes shot to yours, then to your linked hands, before tightening his grip.

“I don’t know where to start,” you confessed. “I… One thing that has always been on my mind—why did you dislike me so much?”

He smiled bitterly. “Sometimes, I forget that you don’t see the way I see you. You are a smart, dauntless woman, who’s pushed all my buttons. It all just built and built upon each other until I found you—Dove—here.” He pauses. “I projected my frustrations onto Dove—you—here. But never, for a moment, doubt my feelings aren’t genuine.”

You pursed your lips. “Forgive me, but I cannot accept your accusations of me being the office slut—very rude, by the way—were without malice. You constantly pushed me down, clashed with me in the workplace and you were just plain classist.”

Sicheng’s eyes were casted down, but his grip was steady. “I will not lie. Those words I spat at you were with malice. But now, in retrospect, they were nothing more but words of immature frustration that I channeled towards you. I know that I cannot take them back and they will forever linger in the air between us, but I can apologize and recognize those words were completely unacceptable.”

He angled his body fully towards you and clasped your hand in both of his. “I am sorry for my actions. My anger was misplaced and the sentiments do not represent me anymore. I am sorry and I hope you can forgive me.”

“And then what? What do you want now, Sicheng?” An edge of desperation tinged your voice.

He smiled bitterly at you. “Everyday, the smell of you lingers and I, like Pavlov’s dog, cannot help but feel an ache in the marrow of my bones when I see your crimson red lips. Every night, when I go to bed, you are seared across the back of my eyelids and I cannot escape you, even in my dreams.” He paused. “I want you, or whatever scraps you’re willing to toss me.”

A sharp exhale left you nose and you blinked rapidly. “I don’t want to get hurt. You get off on hurting people.”

“With your consent.”

“Say I want a completely vanilla relationship,” you challenged. He didn’t flinch. “What about then?”

Sicheng clenched his jaw and held your gaze fiercely. “Anything.”

“I hate that you are all I’ve wanted in a man,” you admitted unwillingly. He hummed. “Will we be each other’s destruction? Or will we be each other’s maker?” you pondered nonsensically.

“Aren’t we already both?” he retorted.

Slowly, without releasing his hand, you rose from your chair and lowered yourself into his lap. His eyes traced your every movement. For a few, brief moments, you looked into each other’s eyes without the obsurance of a mask or the encumbrance of a workplace rivalry. Your left hand cupped his cheekbone and stroked the skin underneath his eye.

“This will be interesting,” you said.

He gave no sign of reaction, but tilted his head into your palm and closed his eyes. “After us, the flood,” he recited.

Monday, March 2nd, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

7:50 PM HKT

A secret grin tugged at your lips as you looked across the table at Sicheng, who was intensely focused on the presentation your coworker was giving. Perhaps he’d felt the weight of your gaze on him as he chanced a glance at you and gave you a small smirk.

The past month in your relationship with Sicheng was equally fulfilling and frustrating. There were times where both of you deliberately looked for a fight or misinterpreted each other, but there were also times you could shed your layers and just be yourselves with the other.

Even each fight, where you or Sicheng stormed out, or broke things, you came back to each other at the end. Pushing, pulling, pushing, pulling relentlessly. The flood, indeed.

You focused back in on the meeting and contributed to the smatter of clapter for the end of your coworker’s presentation. As he turned off the projector and people stood up to leave, Xiao Daiyu—the interim head of the Sales department—stopped you and Sicheng.

“Y/N, Sicheng, please stay back for a moment. I’d like to talk to you about Mr. Lee’s replacement.”

You and Sicheng glanced at each other and you sat back down. A while ago, you had both agreed the decision wasn’t going to break the quiet relationship you had built. It was going to be sour. You knew, when someone was chosen, things could get messy and awkward. But this… this was too good.

Daiyu sat down and put her hands together. “After much decision and going through your interviews, the CEO has stepped in and we are sorry to say neither of you are getting the position.”

You jerked your head around to Sicheng and he did the same—wild confusion and anger in both of your eyes. Both your years of loyalty and dedication are being passed over?

“Instead, we have decided to hire outside the company for some fresh intake. He may be young, but it comes to us that he’s highly recommended and would fit in with our culture well.”

A sour feeling came to your stomach and you narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to frown. They had decided to hire outside the company? This is how they decide to reward their workers? This was betrayal.

Glancing over, you could see Sicheng felt the same. His right hand grasped the arm of the chair tightly and you could see his knuckles turning white.

“I’d like to meet him and he’s coming—” She took a glance at her watch. “—right about now.”

A knock came from the door and a head of messy black hair peaked into the room.

“Daiyu laoban, great to see you.”

No. This could not be happening to you.

The wire glasses. The tall, lanky frame that filled the doorway. The almond shaped eyes hiding behind pitch-black hair, as black his shriveled little heart.

Daiyu, like the little bitch she was, giggled. “Y/N, Sicheng, please meet your new Sales Head: Xu Minghao.”

His eyes focused on you and your world suddenly felt tilted, careening sideways while the nausea hit you all at once.

“Nice to meet you,” he said cheerfully.

You could feel Sicheng’s concern radiating from him at your ashen face and look of shock, but you couldn't even think as flashes of blood and tears and pain shuddered throughout your body.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m pleased to be working with you!”

(”After us, the flood” or “Aprés nous, le deluge” is an expression from Madame Pompadour, King Louis XV’s lover.)

And it’s finished. Thank you. Please don’t forget to read, comment, and reblog. I love you all and goodbye.

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mdverse · 3 years ago

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heyyy it’s me again!! so u obv don’t have to respond to this if u don’t want to cuz i don’t wanna clog ur blog but since u asked about it: i guess my favorite thing about the vb au would just be the way you’ve redone the relationships between each character!! like honestly with the team itself i’m so curious what would be going thru their heads during a game and how they would have to rely on each other, and i love that they all have to kinda earn each other’s trust (since aside from sugar and brittany everyone is meeting for the first time if i remember correctly? i could be completely wrong ahh) and bond as a group. i also adore the furtana friendship 😭 it warms my heart. santana and finn having known each other since childhood just like, makes a lot of sense for them and i don’t think i’ve seen that done before, so its really cool!! my other favorite thing has gotta just be how u draw everyone. like, i know that’s not an au exclusive thing but ur art style is so cool!! i love the way u color eyes, they always pop and it’s a really cool detail. u also are really good with like, dynamic poses? idk if i’m making sense cuz i don’t really know anything about art, but when u draw movement it always looks natural and like there’s weight behind it? anyway i love everything about the vb au and i think u are an incredibly creative person for being able to come up with it all. also congrats on the redbubble!! sorry if this is long, again pls don’t feel like u have to respond to this i just didn’t wanna leave u hanging. sorry this is a mess, have a good night!!

adlkhf anon listen,,, i may be trying to not clog my blog too much but i can never resist rambling about vb au,,,,,, especially with such an enthusiastic ask! ill just slap some thoughts under the keep reading for anyone who's interested but just know that u gave me a lovely burst of motivation to actually work on the fic!!! admittedly my school semester has just started so who knows how writing will go but ill be working on the outline later :)))

anyway the character dynamics!!!! they're so fun to think about and i love them all! ur right about britt n sugar being the only ones who knew each other properly before joining the team so their dynamic is already set and wildly chaotic, but quinn and tina both know of e/o and of the britt/sugar duo bc they've seen e/o in tournaments :) so a lot of the main relationships on the team are developing at different speeds and from different starting points! which does make it kinda hard for me, a clown, trying to balance all of them lmao but it's still really fun and i'm so pumped to draw all of them together

as for furtana! my beloved! i'm assuming the reason there are so few close finntana dynamics in fics is bc of the whole outing debacle... which is very valid.... but that's why aus are so fun right? finn and santana are 2 of my faves so exploring a world in which they grew up together just kinda came naturally to me. especially when u look at their s4 interactions bc they've clearly bonded and care about e/o, even if we don't get to see the extent of it :) and then adding kurt to the mix,,, they're all dumbasses in their own ways so the resulting dynamics are really entertaining! i love imagining the sheer chaos that comes from them juggling a max of 2 brain cells between them,,, but there's also so much love there and that's easily my fav part!!! i could gush about them for so long adjshfjksdg

to sum things up im so incredibly grateful for ur enthusiasm about this au! im ridiculously passionate about it so knowing that other people like it too makes me all giddy sdkfhs and just know that u are very welcome to drop in my inbox and talk about it some more :)

#ask md #anonymous #i went on a long ramble of my own hdkhsdlf don't mind me #but seriously thank u for the ask #both asks actually #bc i woke up to this one and it made me smile so much #<3 #vb au asks #my writing #rfbd :)

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towerfandoms · 5 years ago

Note

Would you consider doing a pt 2 to Hanahaki Disease where everyone finds out about the surgery? 😖😖

Of course you can! Thank you so much for requesting this. First part can be found here. I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1.2k

CW/TW: nothing much, mentions of hospital and not being able to breath.

Genre: angst, not as bad as the last one though. a lot of Endorsi comforting the reader <3

Hanahaki Disease (2)

Y/n!” came a foreign voice startling you out of your pleasant thoughts. You stood there confused as you couldn’t pinpoint exactly whose voice it was, thought it was familiar.

You turned around, still with a smile on your lips.

“Hm?” you replied, taking in the sight of the person in front of you.

He had an angelic smile, velvety laugh, porcelain skin and piercing, bright blue eyes. He was the definition of perfection. You questioned to yourself if he was hand-carved by the Greek Gods themselves.

“Are you ok? I haven’t seen you in a couple of days?”

“I’m so sorry if this sounds rude but do we know each other?”

——————————————————————————

Khun stood there still, in shock. For the first time the blue haired man was speechless. Whatever he was expecting after not talking to you normally for weeks certainly wasn’t this. And it wasn’t just the blank look on your face that irked him, it was also your tone. You were talking so formally and polite it made him feel disgusted.

It had been a couple of weeks since your confession. You two hadn’t spoken much bar an occasional greeting or discussing of plans. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he had missed you. A lot. Despite everything that’s happened, you two were best friends and it hurt not talking to you. But he had wanted to give you space. Now he almost regrets that.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he asked, anger masking his confusion and hurt though he knew the answer deep down. He knew it wasn’t. Khun was a perceptive person, so he could tell that you weren’t messing around.

“No? I just had surgery though so I guess i’m still a little out of it,” you replied almost breathlessly. Not only was he a work of art, he had a beautiful, almost velvety voice to match

“Surgery? Why didn’t you tell anyone? We’ve been worried sick about you for the past few days!”

You were gone for three days and nobody knew where you were. Sure you didn’t have to tell anyone but it’d be nice if you had even left a note.

Thinking back, why didn’t you tell anyone? You felt bad that your friends were worried about you. You hadn’t been yourself but you didn’t want to worry them anymore. You didn’t realize how long the operation would take.

“I’m sorry. I thought everyone was busy and didn’t want to worry them more,” came your sheepish reply.

“Y/n, we‘re your friends. You could’ve at least told us.” he scolded. Though his tone was harsh it wasn’t hard to see the lines of worry across his forehead.

It was really weird, you thought. You could remember everyone else quite clearly. Why couldn’t you remember him? He seemed so familiar too. And why did you even have the surgery in the first place? The answer was right there in the back of your brain but you couldn’t reach it.

Khun

Khun? What the hell was a Khun?

No, not what.

Who?

“Khun…?” you asked uncertainly.

You could almost see some of the tension roll off his shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s my name,” his tone was rather harsh but for some reason he was rather easy to read. You could tell how stressed he was.

Khun could also read you easily. He noticed your still confused look and sighed.

“I’m gonna call Endorsi, maybe she’ll know what’s up,” with that Khun sauntered off with the intention of finding your best friend and getting answers.

Almost immediately as he left the room Endorsi came running in. You could hear the man named Khun scoff and continue walking down the hallway, leaving you two alone.

“Don’t hate me but I was listening into your conversation and i just can’t help but worry,” she babbled breathlessly. “What’s wrong? Did you have surgery. Can you remember me? Please don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me. Otherwise I’ll have to slap it out of you,”

She was joking,,, or at least you hoped.

Without giving you time to respond she wrapped her arms around you and rested her forehead against your shoulder. You instinctively hugged her back.

“You didn’t actually forget me did you?” she mumbled sadly into your shoulder.

“What! No, of course not! How could I ever forget one of my closest friends.” you replied with the most certainty you could muster. It was true though. You could remember every little detail about her. She was rather hard to forget.

Upon hearing that Endorsis mood took a complete 180. “Yay, ok now can you please explain everything?”

“I can try but the truth is I don’t remember anything myself. I had a surgery for three days but now I don’t even remember what it was for. I think it was for lung disease.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? You can tell friends anything. We could’ve gone through this together. Man that must’ve been so scary having surgery alone,”

“No it wasn’t actually that bad. But the issue is I can’t remember that Khun man qnd he looks really sad about it. “

“Khun, sad? I doubt it,” she snorted. “This sounds really familiar though. There’s actually been a lot of cases lately where people had surgery for something in their lungs and forgetting about their loved ones when they wake up. I think it’s something in the anaesthetic.”

“Oh…” you trailed off unsure.

“Yeah, I think it was like Hananene illness or something.”

Hanahaki

You felt like you were in the hospital again. You could hear the nurses and doctors arguing throwing that cursed word around. You kept trying to take big gulps of air but it felt like you were drowning. It was so painful. Your lungs were bursting even though there was nothing in them.

Except those wretched blue flowers.

“Earth to y/n. Earth to y/n. You ok? You look like you just remembered a ghost.” Endorsis head was no longer on your shoulder, instead her arms were gripping them, lightly shaking you.

“It was Hanahaki disease,” you said a little too quickly.

“Oh yeah it was- Wait! Did you have Hanahaki disease?”

You nodded a bit ashamedly, looking to the side.

“And it was Khun who you were in love with, that’s why you’ve forgotten him,”she whispered softly with the sudden realization.

“I can’t remember a thing about him though. I could barely even recall his name,”

Endorsi looked at you with such sadness sadness in her eyes you were scared she was going to start crying.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve known.”

You were taken aback by her strange kindness.

“Hey, it’s fine. Besides I’m alive and I’ve forgotten him so it doesn’t really matter now” you weren’t sure who you were trying to reassure.

“Still, I’m not sure how we’re going to tell him,”

“Tell who, what?” asked Shibisu, entering the room with Bam and Hatz.

Endorsi turned to you and gave you a look that said it was going to be a long night.

Silently you agreed.

A/n: sorry for leaving it off here but i did it for two reasons. one otheriwse it was gonna be a long ass story. and two, to see if people wanted a next part. literally one dm/ inbox message and i’ll do it cuz i really enjoy writing this. thank you! oh also if y’all wanna make it someone else x reader. or we could even do a little bit of khun secretly being in love and wants her back. possibilities are endless, lemme know !

#tower of god #tog #khun aguero agnis #khun x reader #khun #khun aa #khun aguero agnes #tower of god khun #kami no tou #endorsi jahad #endorsi zahard #endorsi x reader #tower of god endorsi #tog endorsi

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bratkook · 5 years ago

Text

clairvoyant. (m) part seven.

masterlist.

pairing: taehyung x reader (briefly) jungkook x reader

word count: 15k+ damn my bad

warnings: nsfw, spanking, dirty talk, unprotected sex (dont do this) but otherwise pretty tame at the end

authors note: i know i said this would go up monday but im clearly a liar i stayed up late last night writing this and it’s partially edited so if something looks fucked up dont come for me :( ill edit it later i just wanted to get it up lmfao im thinking another chapter left, maybe 2 anyways lmk what u think

Its Monday afternoon and you’re sat at your desk at work, your fingers mindlessly tapping on your mousepad as you retouch a portrait on your desktop. To be honest, you weren’t really paying it any attention, your mind kept drifting over to the text Jungkook had sent you the other night while he was drunk. Sure he had asked you to help him get his dick wet and a part of you knows he meant help as in_ help me find someone new_ but the perverted side of you hoped he meant help as in let me fuck you.

“Okay, unless you’re trying to make her skin look like plastic you need to ease off.”

Your hands jump at Yoongi’s voice and you realize the monstrosity you created on the models face, wincing as you delete the layer entirely to start over.

“Oops, thanks.” Yoongi just laughs, resting his arm on your shoulder and slouching over your seated frame as you resume editing with a slightly clearer head.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” He had been watching you during your entire shift together, today was an easier day, only slight organizing and retouching being the things on the to-do list but you had been very spacey. You were misnaming files and not being able to find them on the desktop, forgetting basic commands on photoshop that were second nature to you and you had mistakenly put coffee grounds instead of instant coffee in Yoongis morning cup and hadn’t realized.

Your hand came up to scratch your temple as you thought back to yesterday, waking up at three in the afternoon hungover as fuck in Jimin’s bedroom. Both of you had managed to go to sleep in the same exact clothes you went out in and your body was stiff which lead you to believe whatever sleeping position you chose had been very unfortunate.

Both of your phones had died in the middle of the night since the pair of you had been way to drunk to even think of plugging them in and when Jimin finally waltzed in from the bathroom, his hair damp from the shower, he suggested going out to eat so you let your phone remain dead in your pocket as you went about your day. You were blissfully unaware of Jungkook’s text sitting pretty in your inbox.

In turn Jungkook was sat in his own bed, a massive headache pounding so hard he swore his eyes were vibrating from the force. He remembered the text, hell he remembered jacking off in the shower before sending said text. So when he was finally able to sit up without wanting to vomit he was expecting his phone to have a notification from you, your typical response backed with a handful of suggestive emojis because you knew it made him blush.

But when there was nothing he felt his eyebrows furrow together, his finger locking his phone and tossing it beside him in bed as he lay back down. Had he crossed a line? His message was tame enough to leave it open to interpretation but Jungkook knew how he meant it when he sent it, he may have been high off his orgasm but he knew.

He continued to lay in bed for the majority of the day, only leaving to go to the cafeteria with Taehyung once he finally awoke, equally as hungover. He ate as much as he could stomach, not accustomed to hangovers that left his stomach feeling queasy. Unlike you who was currently stuffing as many breadsticks in your mouth as you could in the restaurant you and Jimin occupied, only leaving once your stomach was at capacity. You didn’t get a chance to see Jungkook’s text until eight o’clock that night and when you did see it your mind first went to sex. Jungkook was asking you for sex.

Sort of.

Slapping perverted thoughts from your head you responded with a simple of course i’ll help you. Leaving it at that, you knew he had sent you the first text while wasted so you were giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Those cursed perverted thoughts haunted your dreams though, images of you riding a shy Jungkook on your bed until he came noisily playing over and over and over you were surprised you hadn’t woken up with your underwear covered in remnants of an orgasm.

You hadn’t slept well at all.

You tell Yoongi this with a tight lipped smile and he nods sympathetically, “What are you doing after this?”

Looking at the clock you see there is twenty minutes left before the end of your shift, Taehyung had already messaged you earlier in the day asking to hang out and whether that meant actually hanging out or hanging out you weren’t sure but either way was fine with you. You needed a distraction to help you stop seeing the image of Jungkook cumming replaying in your mind.

“I’m seeing Tae.”

You don’t look up to see Yoongi’s reaction, not wanting to see any facial expression of judgment when you mention Taehyung’s name. Thankfully he only hums in response, watching you save your current file and start to shut down the computer and going to his own workstation to start doing the same.

When the time comes to leave you say your goodbyes, Yoongi getting into an uber to head to Jimin’s, telling you if you wanted to join them after you were done with Taehyung you were more than welcome. You hug him and tell him you’ll think about it before hopping onto the bus and heading back to campus.

The weather was getting colder in the day, its nearing the end of the first week of October and the fallen leaves decorating the sidewalks made that obvious. Once you hop off on campus you take note of the flyers plastered on bulletin boards, big posters taped on the sides of the buildings to announce the various Halloween themed events going on and you grin at all the activities that you love. This was always your favorite time of year.

As you trek your way into the boys dorm you greet Baekhyun at the front desk before entering the elevator with your phone in your hand. Your eyes are downcast as you scroll through your campus portal, skimming through the various assignments you had due this month and starting to feel the small tingles of stress creep up on you.

The elevator dings and you step out, your fingers tapping on an assignment due later tonight. Your eyes are glued to your device so you don’t notice Jungkook stood a few feet away, frozen in spot as he sees you. It’s not until you’re about to run into him that his shadow snaps you out of your daze, your eyes flicking up, “Oh, Jungkook!” You throw him a charming smile as you wrap your arms around him in greeting.

Jungkook relaxes when he feels your embrace, the nerves he’s felt since sending you that text vanish, his own arms wrapping around your body with a gentle squeeze. “Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

In retrospect he knows what you’re doing here but he needs to hear you say it. He needs to remind himself that you’re not here to see him to fulfill any sick desires he has.

You pull back still smiling, slipping your phone into your back pocket to give him your full attention. “Taehyung text me wanting to hang out so,” you spread your arms out widely, “here I am.”

He can only grin at that, of course you weren’t here to see him. You were here to see Taehyung. The man you fucked. Constantly. Not him.

You take note of his appearance, a giant black hoodie swallowing his frame and his school bag draped over his shoulder, “Are you heading out somewhere?” You speak again when he says nothing in response.

“Yeah, just to a study group at the library.” His eyes give you another once over, he wants to keep talking to you but it’s clear you have other things to get to, “I don’t want you to keep Tae waiting so I’ll be off.” He shoves his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie with a small smile and steps around you awkwardly.

You can only mutter out a small okay because he’s acting a little strange but thats typically how Jungkook acts. He’s relatively shy, only speaking when spoken to and whenever he has bouts of confidence where he jokes and laughs and says things you’d never imagine him saying it only lasts for a moment before he’s back to shy Jungkook.

You wave at him and continue walking down the hallway to Taehyung’s room. Jungkook manages to take two steps towards the elevator before stopping and turning back around, “Y/N!” He shouts, flinching a little at his own voice and cringing when he sees you jump for a second, turning around with a curious face. “Do you think we could hang out soon? Like…” he rummages in his brain as he thinks of something else to say, “maybe after all our classes tomorrow?”

You think for a moment, you have a few classes after the creative writing class you share with him and another work shift right after so that won’t work. “I can’t tomorrow but after classes on Friday I’m free.” Jungkook doesn’t even think about his schedule, shouting out that Friday works for him as well and now your beaming smile is back and Jungkook can feel his stupid heart skip a beat at the sight.

Now he can finally leave in peace, a small pep in his step as he enters the elevator but that doesn’t stop him from aggressively jabbing his finger against the close door button so he doesn’t have to see you walk into Tae’s room.

Luckily the week passes by quickly, Jungkook had nerves bubbling up in his stomach the entire time. It wasn’t like he had never hung out with you one on one, you guys usually hung out during the free period you had after your shared class but it was something that was sort of routine. This time he had explicitly asked to hang out, he wasn’t sure why that felt so different but it did so as his professor recites his final sentences Jungkook is totally zoned out, only coming back when he hears he’s dismissed. And then hes shooting up out of his seat, throwing his backpack over his shoulders and speed walking out of the building and onto the quad.

He passes the stupid cafe and ducks his head, walking even faster to avoid the possibility of Jisoo spotting him through the giant windows. When he feels he can no longer be spotted he lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing and his pace slowing down. That gross feeling he had in his chest after Jisoo had slammed the door in his face hadn’t gone away, he still felt like he had done something horrible even though he knows he hadn’t but the small glares Jisoo would send him whenever she would spot him on campus just made that feeling linger.

He was counting down the days she would graduate, or at least until she’d set her eyes on someone else because he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. She hadn’t resorted to shouting things at him or anything too out of pocket but it was clear to Jungkook that she was telling her circle of friends that he had done something despicable and they were telling their friends. The whispers and small huddling that would happen when he would pass them on campus or in the rare occurrence that they shared a class made that obvious. He hated it.

Once he finally makes it into the girl’s dorm Joy greets him with a smile and he tries his best to return it. Letting her simple question erase the worries in his mind, “Are you going to the bonfire tonight?”

He grabs his id back from her and looks up with a nod, that was actually what he was going to suggest the two of you do. He had seen the abundance of posters around campus advertising the event and it sounded like fun. “Yeah actually, I’ve never been.”

Joy smiles with a clap of her hands, knowing it’s his first year at this school, “It’s a good time, lots of snacks and someone always finds a way to sneak booze in. You guys will like it.” She refers to you when she says that, already knowing thats who Jungkook was here to see. Jungkook can feel someone behind him so he shuffles away to let the person sign in, waving at Joy as he makes his way up to your room.

The hallways of your floor are covered in fake spiderwebs, skeletons draped over some girl’s doors while others had plastered colored paper and drawn up their own version of spooky designs that reminded him of his years in elementary school. It was cute and honestly the boy’s dorms could take some notes because the only decoration they currently had was a skeleton sitting on one of the toilets in the bathroom.

As he stands in front of your door he takes note of the white board you and Wendy have hung up and he laughs softly when he sees whats written on it. In red marker it says *dracula voice* we want to suck your blood with some poorly drawn fangs underneath it and in the corner beside it the word dick is written with an obnoxious arrow coming up to point at the word blood to replace it.

His knuckles knock on your room door, hearing shuffling from behind it and some laughter before it’s thrown open and you’re greeting him with a smile, “Hey Jungkook.” Your lips shimmer back thanks to the clear lipgloss you’re currently wearing and his eyes zero in on them.

“Hey.” He mumbles out and you catch his eyes giving you a once over, finally making eye contact when you step to the side to let him in. He steps into the room and notices that you and your roommate must really love this holiday because you both have decked it out in halloween decorations. There’s a giant spiderweb rug in the center of the floor between your beds and a string of bat fairy lights hung behind your beds where you pinned more polaroids onto it. Theres a soft orange glow that fills the room and he notices you two have even gone as far as sticking led tape to the ceiling for the ambiance.

“Love the commitment.”

You chuckle, pointing over to your roommate with a smile, “She’s a slut for halloween and so am I so we had to. It’s not fully finished yet, we gotta grab some more stuff don’t we?”

When he looks over at Wendy’s side he spots her sat on her bed as she ties her shoes, “You bet your ass we do, I’m thinking we need different curtains or maybe a full on skeleton like Yeri has hung on her door.”

Jungkook can’t imagine how much more effort you two could put into your room but the determination set on Wendy’s face shows that she’s not joking. “Alright I’m off to go be a slave to the systems of education, pray I make it through this four hour lecture.” You laugh and clasp your hands in faux prayer, laughing harder when she rolls her eyes at you with a smile, telling you and Jungkook goodbye and dragging her feet like a child as she leaves.

“What did you wanna do today?” You ask him as you go back to your mirror to finish fixing your hair up. Jungkook sets his bag on the floor beside your bed, rolling his shoulders as he sits on it and shuffles backwards until he feels the cool of the wall against his back.

“There’s that rooftop bonfire happening later on, I was thinking maybe we could go to that?”

Your face perks up when he mentions that, immediately saying it was a good idea. That yearly bonfire was always the best, last year they had managed to bring up a giant blow up projector and played some classic halloween movies while everyone sat around the bonfire and made s’mores. Jin had snuck in a few flasks full of vodka so you and your group had been nice and drunk, bundled up in blankets while Hocus Pocus played.

“That actually sounds perfect, did you wanna head down to the store to grab some stuff?” Your attention was back on the mirror, your fingers coming to wipe at the corners of your mouth to fix any smudges of your gloss so Jungkook felt like he could stare at you and not get caught. You had your hair in messy waves, one side tucked behind your ear as you leaned forward and the cropped grey crewneck you had on wasn’t going to do much to protect you from the cold but it was obvious the outfit was for purely aesthetic purposes.

“Sure, lets go.”

The both of you head back out onto campus, two reusable bags in your hand to help you carry whatever you decide to buy. The bonfire usually had enough snacks for everyone but it was always good to go out and buy stuff you knew you liked as a safety net. The walk was nice, the sun had finally set, the last remaining hues of purple peeking away behind the buildings, allowing the floor lights to illuminate the path you were walking on.

Jungkook seemed to be out of his usual shy shell, his hands flailing around as he talked to you about the project he was working on in his intro to ceramics class. He swore he had no talent in it and was only taking it since he needed the units the class came with but you found it hard to believe since the photos he would post online said otherwise.

“You’re so full of shit.”

His mouth dropped open, his arms freezing in the position they were currently in as he tried to show you the motions of making a mug, “I swear. I’m gonna make you a mug and it’s gonna be the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen and you’re gonna have to love it because you doubted me.”

That just makes you laugh and he smiles down at you, “I’d love that, make it extra big too. Big enough so I can pour two cups of coffee in it and I’ll treasure it forever, no matter how ugly it is.”

He nods in thought, his lips pursed together because he was definitely gonna do that now. He really wasn’t the worst at ceramics but now he was determined to make you a half decent mug to drink your morning coffee. “Deal, give me a week.” He pulled the door open for the store and let you slip in first, the bells dinging up ahead to notify the worker of your presence.

You went for the chips, stuffing two bags of spicy tteokbokki chips into your bag as your first choice. Jungkook roams over to the sweets, grabbing a few of the chocopie for himself, calling your name out as he holds one up and when you nod he grabs a few more for you as well. It takes you both a few minutes to raid the shelves, huddling in a corner with the bag pulled apart to inspect the damage, “Is this enough?”

Jungkook hums as his eyes scan the contents, spicy chips, seaweed crisps, chocopies, some sausages, two small containers of banana milk for himself and a few cans of sparkling soju crammed at the bottom for you two to conceal. This seemed like enough, and you kept saying there would be more options once you got there so he didn’t think you should load up on too much. “Yeah, I think we’re good.”

Satisfied, you pay for your goods and make your way back to your building where the event would take place. You hop into the elevator and click the very top floor, he could see your big smile in the reflection, your feet tapping excitedly and he feels a smile spreading on his own face, happy that he chose an activity that made you this giddy.

When the doors open to the roof you step out onto the hallway and walk up three steps through the doors that lead to roof access. Jungkook had no idea either of the dorm buildings even had roof access so he’s amazed at that fact alone. The entire perimeter is blocked up by a cement border to prevent anyone from falling off, a plethora of plants covering it up to make it look more pleasing to the eye. Right in the middle of it all was the bonfire, thin and long and already lit up with people sat on the surrounding couch.

Besides that were a handful of bean bags and comfy chairs in case there wasn’t enough seating on the couch and if that wasn’t enough either there was a giant space open up in front of the blow up projector for anyone to lay a comfy blanket down to chill.

The snack and beverage table was placed to the left which was where you were currently dragging Jungkook to. You pulled out a few of the treats you had bought to leave them for anyone to enjoy and Jungkook couldn’t resist grabbing a piece of chocolate that was meant for the s’mores, letting the candy melt in his mouth as his eyes roamed the place some more.

“Hey, isn’t that Jimin?” He spoke slowly, not wanting the melted candy to drool out of his mouth. You were munching on a cinnamon cracker, your head turning to where he was pointing and low and behold it was Jimin. He was currently sat on the grey couch in front of the fire right next to a girl you recognized as Chaeyoung, she was holding a marshmallow on top of the fire, laughing as Jimin surely teased her for burning it.

“Yeah it is.” You smiled to yourself, seeing your best friend behaving uncharacteristically flirty, accepting a bite of the slightly burnt marshmallow smushed between the chocolate and crackers in Chaeyoung’s hands, licking his lips and plucking the snack out of her grasp to feed her the rest of it.

Jungkook walked towards them, seeing a few empty spots to their left on the smaller couch by the fire, he noticed the metal basket by the couch containing blankets so he snagged one out before he took a seat, handing it to you when you sat beside him.

“Y/N, Jungkook!” Jimin notices you two the second you sit down, popping the tip of his finger into his mouth to lick away the sticky residue from it.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d be here.” You tease him, setting your bag in front of you and Jungkook and draping the blanket over the both of your laps for some added warmth.

“I wasn’t going to but this one,” he drapes his arm over Chaeyoung and she blushes at his display of affection, covering up a side of her face, “convinced me to come. Something about them playing The Lost Boys.”

She looked up at him and smiled, “It’s my all time favorite movie, I can’t believe you’ve never seen it.” Jimin just shrugs, a teasing smirk on his face and you wanna scream at how cute hes acting but you really don’t want to embarrass him. Park Jimim was not one for dates or romantics so seeing him on what could arguably be described as a date blind sided you.

“Oh, I’m Chaeyoung by the way.” She leans out of his embrace and reaches over with an extended hand. You lean over Jungkook to reach it, a giggly handshake being exchanged between you two, “Y/N. You’re a third year right? Political science major?”

“Yes, I am! I saw your photography exhibit by the way, super amazing.” Your hands come up to cup your cheeks at her compliment, suddenly feeling like you two are drunk strangers at a bar ready to spit compliment after compliment at each other.

“And you’re Jungkook right?” She speaks again, sitting back in her seat as she stares at him with an unreadable expression and you can feel Jungkook tense up slightly at being recognized because how the fuck would a third year know who he was. He wasn’t a social butterfly at all, he only knew you and your group and his other small group of friends that he studied with.

“Oh, yeah I am.” Jungkook reaches his own hand out to greet her and she does the same. Pulling her hand back after a moment and crossing her leg over the other in thought, “Weren’t you just dating Jisoo?”

There it is. Of course thats how she would know who he was. And that only proved his suspicion that Jisoo was spreading his name around.

She had a defensive cast over her gaze, her eyes boring into Jungkook to analyze him. It clicked instantly that Chaeyoung and Jisoo were best friends so theres no doubt that right now Chaeyoung is ready to chew Jungkook out for being what she thinks is a dirtbag.

You can see how wide Jungkooks eyes get at her question, readjusting himself on the couch while his mind sorts through any possible answer he can give her. How could he clear his name without sounding like the jerk she thinks he currently is?

“Uhm,” his eyes drift over to her for a moment and when he sees her unwavering gaze he looks at Jimin instead, seeing him with his lips pressed in a firm line, “we just went to dinner and the art exhibit. We weren’t dating.”

Chaeyoung’s look softens at that, his answer being a stark contrast to what Jisoo had told her. She had said Jungkook had made her his girlfriend and went on this amazing date and when she didn’t put out he told her they weren’t dating.

Jungkook continues to ramble, thinking that answer doesn’t satisfy her, “Jisoo’s a sweet girl, don’t get me wrong. We just weren’t compatible so it was best if we…moved on?”

Your hand comes up to pat his thigh on top of the blanket, comforting him slightly because you can see how nervous he got. His own hand comes down on top of yours, fingers gently wrapping around it and giving it a squeeze.

“Totally fair,” Chaeyoung finally speaks, “just wanted to make sure you didn’t dump my friend and quickly moved on with Y/N.” Her eyes flicker over to your hands and then up to you with a smile. Jimin cleared his throat beside her, his own hands coming up to rub together to try to clear any awkward tension.

“Okay,” he starts, eyes coming down to look at the plastic bag set by your feet, “please tell me you brought any sort of alcohol.”

You lift your hand off Jungkook’s thigh, leaning forward to rummage through the bottom of your bag and pulling out colorful cans of soju. You wave two of them in your hands in offering, tossing them both to Jimin when he cheers obnoxiously, pulling out another two for you and Jungkook to enjoy.

The four of you crack open the cans, bringing them together in cheers to prepare to down the entire thing as fast as you could before anyone could possibly rat you out. You manage half of it before having to pull back, the carbonation in the drink burning your nose and throat more than the soju in it, “Fuck, why did you get these?” Jimin coughs, fingers coming up to rub at his nose.

“They look like soda cans, I was trying to be inconspicuous.” Jungkook laughs at your pained expression, setting his drink on the floor to get up and grab some of the snacks to make s’mores.

Chaeyoung raises her finished can in the air in victory, licking her lips with a slight grimace, “Done!” She crumples up the can for dramatic effect, you and Jimin staring at her in shock and then looking at each other to see who could finish the rest of their drink faster.

Jimin manages three more gulps until he pulls back again, “Nope,” he coughs, letting out a burp as he pounds onto his chest, “can’t do it.” You finish your own can, tossing it into the second reusable bag you brought thats not being occupied. Chaeyoung jokingly calls Jimin a baby, taking his own can to finish off herself.

When Jungkook returns with his snacks & two metal skewers they fall into their own conversation and Jungkook is thankful because even though Chaeyoung seems okay with him he still feels like if he says the wrong thing she’ll turn and call him a fuck boy or something of that nature.

You reach for a skewer, popping a fluffy marshmallow onto the top of it and leaning forward to reach the fire. He mimics your actions, the both of you giggling when he drops his hand too low and his marshmallow burns a little too hot for a moment.

“Do you like your marshmallows well done?” He asks you as he looks at your fluffy snack hovering over the fire way too low since you were focused on staring at his, a teasing grin on his face, “‘Cause that shit is charred.”

You gasp as you pull back your now black marshmallow, frantically blowing on it when you notice its now entirely burnt and Jungkook cant help but laugh at the frown on your face. He pulls his own perfectly toasted marshmallow up towards your face to mock you, only laughing harder when you bring your own burnt one up beside it to compare them.

“I can still salvage it.” You try to convince yourself, your fingers trying to scrape and pluck away the burnt edges but Jungkook knows as well as you do that it’s beyond repair. While you focus on your failed attempt Jungkook prepares his own s’more, putting two pieces of chocolate around the gooey marshmallow and sandwiching it between the cinnamon crackers.

When he brings it up to your face with a sweet smile the frown on your face deepens at the nice motion, you take a small bite of it and let out a sound of satisfaction when the sweetness hits your tongue, “So good!”

He motions for you to finish it but you just take it from him and force feed it back to him, your hand cupping his cheek to push his lips open and its not until he lets out another laugh that you’re able to pop the rest of the treat into his mouth with no resistance. His cheeks are puffed up and he has a bit of chocolate smeared around his lips, looking absolutely adorable and you really can’t stop yourself from cupping both of his cheeks like an annoying auntie and cooing at him which only makes his cheeks warm up, his mouth coming to life to munch away to get his cheeks to deflate again.

“Cute.”

The following week goes on like normal except for the fact that now you’re slammed with work and school, barely getting a moment to see any of your friends between the chaos of it all. Jungkook has a small moment where he thinks he did something wrong since you seemed to drop off the face of the earth after the bonfire. You had both had a great time, a small buzz coursing through you from the soju and you had convinced him to cram with you on the oversized bean bags to watch the movie playing but your lack of communication even after your shared class has him slightly worried.

He’s currently sat at his desk, fingers tapping on his laptops keyboard as he tried to finish the last 300 words needed for this essay. Taehyung is sat at his own desk and it’s not until he starts to groan and furiously key smash that Jungkook stops what he’s doing to turn around and check on his roommates mental health. “You okay?”

Taehyung groans with his cheek pressed against the buttons on his keyboard, a constant string of the letter f being typed onto his own essay, “Sorry.” He apologizes when he realizes how loud he’s being, “If this is way more information than you were looking for I don’t care, but I haven’t gotten laid in over a week so I’m dying.”

Jungkook just laughs at the vulgar behavior that just comes naturally to Taehyung, until he realizes that his roommates statement of recent celibacy means he hasn’t seen you either. Taehyung lifts his head up, his fingers coming up to scratch as his faded red hair, deciding he should get to work and stop distracting his roommate with information on his personal life.

The tapping continues and Jungkook slides his phone out to send you a text to see if you were doing okay since he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t seen you recently. He sets his phone down after pressing send, letting the screen stay lit up as he goes back to his work, his eyes constantly darting back to check for any sign of life on your end.

When it vibrates against the desk he peers over to read your response, saying that work and school were ending your social life along with a photo of your current view at work being a desktop lined up with photos you were sorting through, a few textbooks to the left of it to show you trying your best to multitask.

Yoongi looks up from his own spot, peering over his computer to watch you stop whatever it is you’re doing to grab your phone the second it vibrates, small giggles leaving your body as you banter back and forth with Jungkook for the remainder of your shift. Yoongi knows you’re a sucker, he’s just waiting for you to realize it too.

It’s not until nearly a week and a half later that you have a minute to spare, your time already being occupied by Taehyung since he had begged and pleaded for you to help him with his hair dilemma. He’s determined to be Kaneki from Tokyo Ghoul and desperately needs to bleach out the faded ass red form his hair while also tackling his roots.

You’re sat on his desk chair while he sits on the floor between your legs with a bowl of bleach being held in his hands. You have teeny tiny foils in his hair to focus on the red ends first, your hands coming down to dip the tint brush into the thick bleach to coat onto his hair and then securely fold up the foils. “I really hope this comes out.” You mumble out as you fold up the final piece of foil, placing the brush into the remaining bleach for later.

“Me too, that costume is the only thing holding my life together.”

He reaches over to set the bowl onto the desk beside the two of you, coming back to get comfortable again between your legs, “Whys that?”

He whips around dramatically, an exasperated look on his face, “Whys that?” He mocks, his fingers coming up to grip your thighs, “I haven’t fucked you in ages.” He whines out, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs harder. The foils on his head crinkle as he drops his face onto your stomach and you just roll your eyes at how he’s acting because it’s only been two weeks.

“You have a hand Taehyung.”

“It’s not the same!”

“Wow,” you laugh out, your hand coming up to awkwardly pat his tinfoil head, “I’ve just been overwhelmed with my current work load.” You explain your current situation, how all your professors were assigning massive projects back to back combined with the extra work at your job, it was taking its toll on you. You enjoy your classes and love your new job but you haven’t been able to catch a break lately.

“Let me help you ease your stress.” He mumbles out against the fabric of your shirt, his hands trailing up from their spot on your thighs up towards your center.

“I’m not fucking you while you have that shit in your hair.”

And just like that he deflates, his arms dropping like deadweight as he crumbles back to the floor like a child. “Fine.”

He stays in that same position, letting you pat your hand on his head as you both scrolled through your phones, only standing up after you had applied the bleach to his roots and deemed it ready to wash.

You make your way to the boys restroom, Taehyung shoving his head underneath the weak stream of water coming from the sink as you help him rinse the bleach from his hair. He stays with his head bowed forward, his eyes squeezed shut as you applied the purple toner you had mixed.

When you step away to rinse your hands he stands back up to stare at his reflection in the mirror, the skin around his hairline is red from irritation thanks to the bleach and the toner had turned a very scary shade of purple but he trusts you so he doesn’t panic.

“Just fifteen minutes max and then you’re good to go baby.” His eyes move to stare at you from the reflection, seeing you staring at him with a smile, he looks so cute with his hair balled up on top of his head, his eyes wide and curious.

“Then we can fuck?” Yup, and that cute innocent look is gone, but that tiny smile spreading on his face makes you crack, “Yes Tae, then we can fuck.”

So when the timer goes off Taehyung rips off his clothes, surely staining his shirt with the dye on his head but thats a problem for a later date, the shirt laying forgotten on the floor in the corner as he approaches the showers with his hand wrapped around your arm. “In here?” You shout out, your voice bouncing off the tiled room. It’s currently not occupied but you’re not sure how long that’s gonna last for.

“Why not? I don’t wanna wait any longer.” He shrugs, throwing open the shower curtain and letting out a loud scream when he comes face to face with that cursed skeleton everyone on his floor keeps moving around. You burst into laughter and he joins in, his hand clutching his chest to try to slow his heart beat. “Okay, that one’s occupied.” He closes the curtain and moves to the very last one instead.

You pick up his shirt and ball it up to toss it on the bench in front of the shower stall he chose. Your eyes roam the room again, seeing the coast was clear as Taehyung fidgets with the water temperature. He peeks back out to slip out of his sweats and boxers, wiggling his eyebrows as he kicks them to lay beneath the same bench his shirt was on. Your mind was made up, your hands lifting your shirt up and off of you, sliding down the comfy lounging shorts you have on and Taehyung groans when he notices you don’t have any underwear on.

“You knew this was gonna happen didn’t you?”

You kick your clothing over to join his, “Wishful thinking?” You respond with a smirk, squealing loudly when his arm wraps around your waist to drag you into the awaiting stall.

“Wash that off first!” You warn him, pushing his face away from yours. He sighs and crouches down, tilting his head back so you can help him rinse the toner out of his hair. When he’s all clean you pat his cheek, letting him stand up properly and tower over you. He’s giving you that half smirk, his body backing you up against the shower wall, his back successfully blocking the stream of the shower from you because he knows you’re really not trying to get your hair wet.

“You know, you look kinda hot with silver hair.” His eyebrows raise up at your statement, his head tilting slightly, “Kinda like-” You gasp when his fingers make contact with your waist, starting to trail them down, that teasing smirk still on his face as he waits for you to finish your sentence, “like a real life anime character.”

He hums, “Oh? Does that turn you on?”

You just nod, your teeth chewing on your bottom lip as you stared up at him. When his fingers pass your hips and dip down to part your lips his mouth opens up in fake shock, “Messy baby, you weren’t lying. You’re so wet already.”

The groan you let out hardly gets muffled by the noise of the shower but thats the last of your worries right now, your mind too focused on the feeling of his fingers gathering up your arousal, trailing up and down your slit teasingly, “I can’t help it, it’s been too long.” And he knows this, stepping even closer to lock your lips in a heated kiss, it’s been way too long.

He starts to circle his fingers around your entrance but you shake your head, your lips pulling back from his with a small gasp, “No, just fuck me please.” He rests his forehead against yours, his cock throbbing at how desperate your voice sounds. Something about how eager and hungry you always were for sex fueled him, always kept him wanting more.

“Whatever you want baby.” He plants a small kiss on your forehead as he places his hands on your waist, twirling you around and pressing your chest against the cold tile. Then theres a loud wet smack echoing from his palm connecting against your ass, another squeal being heard as a giggly but hushed sound of his name leaves your lips.

And as Jungkook stands at the sink, washing his hands after using the bathroom, he feels his heart stop. He had walked in a minute or so ago, hearing the sounds of a couple talking with the shower running and he knew they were gonna fuck because thats honestly a common occurrence but he didn’t know it was you.

The tap keeps running, his hands still stuck under it as his neck cranes to look to the far left where the shower section was. He sees the ball of clothes you two must have kicked off to the side. The white shower curtain being short enough to see the two pairs of feet in the shower and the position they were currently in made it glaringly obvious that Taehyung was pounding into you from behind and as if he needed more confirmation, you just moaned out for him to fuck you harder.

It was when another loud smack echoed out, mixed in with a grunt from Taehyung that he decided he needed to get the fuck out of there. So he did, not bothering to wipe his hands dry as he scurried away, his cheeks burning up and a mysterious feeling in his chest that he could feel spreading to the rest of his body. He never let you guys know what he had witnessed, not even when you both walked back into the room with your clothes clinging on to your still damp body.

The next time you see Jungkook is a few days later as you’re about to enter the cafe. You don’t speak to him because you spot him a few feet away, walking out of the arts building and in the direction of the schools cafeteria. It takes you a moment to even realize it’s him because his hair is no longer black and you have an inkling that Taehyung is the one that helped him with this.

You decide you’ll find him after you get your coffee and enter the shop. Instantly you spot Jisoo stood behind the cash register and she looks flustered when you make eye contact. Regardless you walk up to her and order a caramel macchiato, adding an americano to the mix since you plan on seeing Jungkook right after this anyways.

Jisoo raises her eyebrows when you order the americano, no doubt knowing its for Jungkook since thats always been his drink of choice here. “Thank you by the way.” She speaks up after you finish telling her your order.

Her comment catches you off guard, “Thank you for what?”

She scribbles on the cups before handing them off to her coworker to get started on. The cafe doesn’t currently have anyone else waiting to order so she stays at the register to chat. “For helping Jungkook with our date.”

You’re about to play stupid but she raised her hand to stop you, “Look, I know you’re the one who suggested both dates to him so thanks.” You’re stunned to silence, not really sure how you should respond but she keeps talking, “It’s just a shame isn’t it?”

“What is?” Your arms are now crossed defensively across your chest.

“That all boys want to do is get in your pants, no one likes romance anymore. I thought Jungkook was nice, goes to show all men are pigs.”

You don’t know why that irritates you as much as it does but you can’t stop yourself from snapping at her, “I’m sorry what exactly did Jungkook do to you that was so horrible?” That wasn’t the reaction she was hoping for, her eyes widening slightly at the sharp tone in your voice, “Because from what I know he took you on two very nice dates and you were the one that cornered him in your hallway, beyond ready to get into his pants without even speaking to him. Sounds like you’re the pig here Jisoo.”

Her face blanks, obviously not thinking you knew the details of the date. She was expecting to be able to spill whatever fake warning she had been telling all of her friends to stay away from Jungkook. “If he was truly as horrible as you’re making everyone believe he is he would’ve slept with you and left the second he got what he wanted.” At that moment her coworker came up with both drinks in hand and a grimace on his face at the interaction he had witnessed. You gripped them both and thanked him before walking out of there as fast as you could so you wouldn’t do something irrational.

Your face felt red, not from embarrassment but from holding in your anger. Jungkook didn’t deserve to have someone talk about him like this, he wasn’t a pig, he was the furthest from that. He was a very sweet gentleman who went out of his way to be as polite as he could. Jungkook was very much boyfriend material and it wasn’t fair that Jisoo could bad mouth him all she wanted because she was salty about being rejected.

You were marching down your campus, some of your drink was sloshing out of the opening in the lid, splashing onto your hand and burning the fuck out of it but it wasn’t processing in your mind as you entered the cafeteria and hoped Jungkook was still here.

You pause at the entryway to scan the room, it was full at this hour since most students came here after their 6pm class to catch a bite for dinner. Eyes roaming over each table you spot the new half blonde and half red hair that belongs to Jungkook, he’s sat next to two other boys all of them laughing and goofing off with their trays in front of them. And now you’re unsure if you should approach him, his back is towards you but one of his friends glances up and makes eye contact, offering you a weird smile. Jungkook notices and cranes around to see what the hell his friend is staring at, noticing you standing awkwardly with your two cups of coffee. You expect him to just give you a half assed greeting before he turns around but his smile gets bigger and he’s waving you over.

You shyly smile and make your way over, slipping between the occupied tables to sit in the spot beside Jungkook. “I uh, I saw you coming this way so I got you a coffee since you know.” You motion with your hands and he understands, he hadn’t had his favorite coffee in weeks because he had been avoiding the cafe like the plague.

“Thank you.” He accepts the cup and takes a gulp, exaggerating a moan to show how much he missed it. That makes his friends and you laugh as you mumble out a no problem, your hands cupping your own drink. At the thought of coffee he pauses, grabbing his bag and sorting through it to pull out the mug he promised you.

You gasp when he hands it over, its a slightly bumpy jumbo mug that he had glazed in black, the inside of the cup being glazed white with a small bat being put on the bottom. You flipped it over to analyze it some more, your thumb grazing over the engraving of his initials he put underneath it, “Oh my god, its perfect!”

Jungkooks friends see the way his ears redden the second he handed you the gift and they want to tease him but theyre scared of the beating they’ll get when you’re gone.

“It’s big enough for two cups.” It definitely is, it was deep and pretty wide. You would be putting it to use tomorrow when you needed a morning cup at work. Jungkook watches the way you stare at the mug like its your newest prized possession and he smiles, picking up his cup of coffee again to take a sip.

“Jisoos a bitch by the way.” You blurt out before you can help yourself and the entire table stays silent, your eyes wide in shock that you even said anything at all.

He holds the coffee cup by his lips, his eyebrows furrowed and the cutest pout on his lips, “What do you mean?”

You push your cup a little bit away from you, tugging your sweaters sleeves over your palms, “I mean she’s a bitch.” Point blank period. “When I ordered these she tried to take that opportunity to talk shit about you to me, called you a pig or something.” You fake disinterest, “So I went off on her.”

His friends holler at that, no doubt knowing what happened between him and Jisoo, one of them offers you a high five which you awkwardly accept. Jungkook just stares at you, in disbelief that Jisoo was trying to make him look bad to you of all people, but he was even more surprised that you had been so quick to defend him.

“You didn’t have to do that, but…I appreciate it.” You shrug, a small smile on your face which he reciprocates.

“Oh,” he puts the coffee down again and gestures towards his friends, “by the way, Y/N this is Mingyu and Eunwoo.” They greet you respectfully, Mingyu whispering something into Eunwoo’s ear before he nods and they both start snickering and then Jungkooks swiftly kicking one of their shins under the table, causing the cheap thing to shake.

You jump at the action and Jungkook glares at his friends before looking at you, “Sorry, weird spasm. Are you hungry?” He quickly changes the subject, desperately trying to get you away from his friends before they say some shit to embarrass him in front of you because he knows they will. They had been the ones subjected to the endless texts in the group chat where Jungkook went on mini rants that switched from trying to convince himself and his group that he did not have a crush on you to asking them for advice on how to best approach you.

At his question you realize you are in fact hungry so you get up with him and follow him to the food options, his now empty tray in hand, you grab a tray from the stack in the corner as you see what catches your eye. Jungkook reaches for the mozzarella sticks, plopping a good handful onto a plate and setting it on his tray with a smile. You copy his actions and grab another plate, putting a regular cheeseburger on it along with some fries. Since Jungkook had already had a burger before you got here he settles for a few chicken wings instead, grabbing a drink for himself and another for you when you motion that you want the same one.

“I like the hair by the way.” You finally speak when you’re both swiping your student cards.

He picks one hand up to ruffle his freshly dyed hair, the red and blonde strands falling slightly over his eyes, “Thanks, it’s for Halloween. I was just gonna spray paint it but Tae convinced me to dye it.”

Just as you figured, “Who are you going as, Todoroki?”

He nods quickly, his face showing his obvious excitement, “Yes! Thats exactly who I’m supposed to be. Have you thought of your costume yet?”

With both trays in hand you start the walk back to the table, “Yeah not as nerdy as yours and Tae’s but close enough.” You tease him, not aware of the stares Jungkooks friends were currently giving you two, “I’m dressing up as Raven from Teen Titans.”

He gulps at that, Raven’s costume wasn’t down right in your face sexy but something about you being in a tight black leotard with your legs bare and a cape covering you up has Jungkook’s weeb ass sweating.

And he didn’t have to wait long to see it since Halloween landed on the upcoming Saturday. All of you were gathered at Jimin’s apartment, all in full nerd gear with shot glasses in hand. The party was being held at one of his friends places which meant expensive booze and a nice house, a drastic change from the dirty parties at the delta fucking whatevers so needless to say you guys were all pumped.

It was currently 10:30 at night and you were about to order a few ubers to head over, your body was buzzing from the two shots you’ve taken, enough to loosen you up.

Jimin is currently dressed in full Joker attire, the new version, his blonde hair is temporarily dyed green with paste, slicked back off of his face and it kills you that hes able to rock any look. “You’re the bane of my existence.”

He has his hand wrapped around you with a smile, raising his eyebrows and making the painted red ones lift up too, “It’s not my fault I was blessed with beautiful genes.” You just roll your eyes, declining the third shot he hands you and he just shrugs and takes it instead, keeping his arm around you as he grimaces and slams the shot glass down on the counter in front of you two.

Jungkook is sat on the couch in the living room beside Yoongi who’s dressed liked Naruto and you finally realize what a giant bunch of losers you and your friends are. Namjoon is stood over by the record player that has music filling up the room, dressed up as Gudetama in a comfortable looking onesie, beside him is Jin and his girlfriend Arang who are dressed in matching pumpkin costumes looking adorable as ever. Hoseok is stood next to Taehyung by the liquor bottle a few feet away from you and Jimin, dressed like an inmate, a pair of handcuffs wrapped around one single wrist for show.

Your eyes move back to Jungkook, he’s decked out in full Todoroki gear, a blue tracksuit on with the white accents and belt, even similar boots and the damn burn on his face to finish it off. The way hes sat on the couch with his legs spread out is like an open invitation to be sat on, you always forget how buff Jungkook is but seeing his thick muscles pulling the fabric taut around his thighs is making your mouth water.

“I knew it.” Jimin whispers in your ear when he catches you staring at the younger boy.

“What are you talking about?”

“You are into him, Yoongi mentioned it to me and I noticed it a while back but I didn’t believe it.”

You trust Jimin, he’s undoubtedly your best friend but you’re not ready to admit to feelings you aren’t even sure you fully have yet so you shrug indifferently, “Honestly, I’m just admiring his juicy ass thighs.”

He peers over and stares at them as well, humming in appreciation, “Well you’re not wrong.”

Taehyung pours himself another shot, letting it overflow a bit as he watches you and Jimin staring at Jungkook. He has his Kaneki face mask partially tugged down to not interfere with his ability to get hammered so the weird grimace he sports is visible for anyone to see. He got it, Jungkook was attractive and muscular and Taehyung had offered to help dye his hair for his costume in hopes that it would land him a chick tonight so he’d back off of you but his plan seems to be backfiring on him.

Taehyung hates that he feels the jealousy blooming in him when he sees you walk over to Jungkook, offering him a shot with a grin, sitting down beside him and laughing at the way he crinkles his nose. He swears he doesn’t feel jealous because he likes you deeper than the current arrangement you both have, its just that stupid territorial mindset he never fully grew out of taking over. He was currently still sober enough which is why he was trying so hard to squish it down, thats all it was.

He knows if you turned around and decided to stop sleeping with him and moved on to Jungkook for that or even a relationship he wouldn’t fight you on it because you could do whatever you wanted but he was hoping what you two had would have lasted longer than a few months and you wouldn’t be setting your sights on his roommate of all people or at least had the decency to tell him. Its not until Hoseok swats his arm, giving him a weird glare, that he snaps him out of blatantly staring at you and Jungkook.

When the ubers finally come you all split up to make yourselves fit into them, Taehyung lucking out and getting stuck in the uber you, Jungkook, and Jimin were in, leaving you sandwiched between him and Jungkook in the back row while Jimin occupied the passengers seat. Taehyung is tense in his seat and you can feel it, his hands clenched and resting on his lap as he stares out the window, counting down the seconds until you all pull up in front of the giant house party.

“It’s my friend Taemin’s house, he’s honestly probably hammered already.” Jimin says once your whole group is gathered on the front lawn. He takes the lead and walks up the path laid out, opening the door to enter the booming house, loud house music being blasted from the giant speakers in the corners.

“Holy shit.” Namjoon speaks out, his eyes taking in how enormous the house was. The ceilings were stupid high, an expensive looking chandelier being the main focus in the current room but it was clear the home owner didn’t pay it much attention considering the shiny diamonds were currently covered in those fake cobwebs.

“How many people are even here?” Arang speaks up as you all make your way deeper into the house. The place is swarming with people, all in their own costumes and you don’t believe that Taemin even knows everyone here.

“Probably a few hundred people, a thousand if he’s fucking insane.” Jimin laughs, his hand coming up to point across the room as he finally spots Taemin in the second living room area he had. He was sat on the couch, looking pretty drunk but the second he spotted Jimin he sprung up and met him halfway in a clumsy hug.

“Thanks for coming out you guys.” He speaks up like he actually knows who you all are even though you’re all strangers, “Feel free to drink whatever you want, theres no rules just please don’t break my shit. Theres also a costume contest happening at midnight with some cash prizes.” When he finishes his little host speech he bows dramatically before someone else calls out for him and he’s gone.

You and your friends don’t need to be told twice, instantly gravitating towards the drinks to get as drunk as everyone else seemed to already be. The array of pricey liquor has you wanting to cry, you absolutely loved the rich for this reason only. The one thing you’re all good at is getting absolutely sauced so it doesn’t take long for you guys to catch up.

Little by little everyone slowly splitting up when the night progresses, there was too much going on in all the different areas of the house, along with who knows what happening in the backyard but you’re pretty sure theres a pool out there, something you would definitely be avoiding because it was freezing.

Hoseok and you end up together as you usually do, being designated party buddies. You’re stood at the back of a room thats currently having a very drunk karaoke concert going on, a very dramatic rendition of Dont Stop Believing being the song of choice and you’re both clapping your hands anc cheering along when the six foot tall Ash Ketchum goes out of his way to make his own adlibs.

You tell Hoseok you’ll be right back as you venture back out of the room to go grab another mixed drink. On your way there you spot Jungkook sat on the couch beside Namjoon, a very pretty girl stood beside him, trying her best to get his attention but he’s either not interested or completely oblivious to her advances because he brushes her off and starts a conversation with Namjoon instead. You’re pouring your drink into your cup when the girl walks away from him with a roll of her eyes, saying something to her waiting group of friends before they all make their way outside.

Just as you’re about to go over to him Taehyung pops up on your left, slinging his arm over you in the sloppy way that lets you know he’s been throwing back way more shots than you have. “Can I ask you something?” He slurs into your ear, choosing to stand in front of you, putting you between him and the counter behind you.

“Sure.” You say as you take a sip of your strong drink, your eyes looking up at him and seeing them glazed over, a hint of uncertainty in them.

He looks down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at you, the three tequila shots he just took minutes ago doing nothing to stop him from squishing down his emotions now, “Are you fucking Jungkook?”

You quickly swallow the liquid in your mouth so you don’t spit it out, your face showing how absurd you think his question is, “What? No?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you, not entirely believing you because of how you two have been acting recently, he sees the way Jungkook acts whenever you text him and he knew you two had started to hang out more on your own. And he would’ve thought it was a normal hang out until Jimin had uploaded a video of the bonfire and he had seen you two making cutesy eyes at each other as you fed him a s’more.

You can see the gears turning in his head but you speak up again before he has a chance to say some stupid shit, “How drunk are you?”

“Drunk enough!” He shouts back and thats confirmation enough for you to know that whatever conversation he thinks he wants to have right now will have to wait.

“Okay you weirdo, get a grip please and back off.” His current attitude was getting on your nerves only because it’s something you’re not used to dealing with when it came to him. Even though you’re half kidding at your statement there’s still some truth to it and he hears it loud and clear, stepping back like a toddler and giving you some space. He mumbles something out about going to find Jimin but you don’t pay it any mind, just nodding along as you drink more of your concoction and go back to join Hoseok in the karaoke room again.

Another hour passes, a few minutes shy of midnight so you know the costume contest will be taking place soon. You and Hoseok have drifted away from each other, him deciding to go join the dance floor at the front of the house where as you find yourself watching an intense game of guitar hero being played. The giant flat screen lets any onlooker clearly see the battle happening and you don’t notice Jungkook beside you until he’s nudging you with his hip, a goofy smile on his face when you stumble over slightly.

“You really suit this character.” He’s standing there with his arms crossed and for one of the first times since you’ve known him he has this very confident aura coming from him. Maybe it’s because he’s had too much to drink to care or maybe it’s because he feels like he’s in his element in this dorky costume but confidence looks good on him.

“Should I just live my entire life as Todoroki then?”

His eyes are glassy from the alcohol and his cheeks are pink but he can tell you’ve had a bit more to drink than him, your tongue becoming too loose to hold anything back, “I definitely wouldn’t mind it.” When he notices your eyes raking up his body and back down, stopping at his thighs once more before looking at his eyes again, he just blushes and chooses to uncross his arms to take a sip of his drink.

He’s been noticing your constant eyeing of his thighs, having caught you staring at them at Jimin’s place earlier tonight, and now that you were drunk you were doing a worse job at trying to play it off. “Has anyone ever told you that your thighs are beautiful?” You finally address it.

Jungkook raises both of his eyebrows, looking down at himself, shifting his weight between both legs and stretching one out. “Can’t say they have.”

“Just wanna bite em…” You mumble under your breath and he chuckles, catching your words but not speaking on it. The shots are definitely seeping further into your blood because your hands are coming up and out, grabbing the meaty skin of his right thigh and he’s yelping from the shock, jumping slightly before balancing out so his drink wouldn’t spill.

You’re grinning sweetly as you give his thigh another quick squeeze and retreat back. You only hum in thought, your mind wondering what they look like under the pants he’s currently wearing. Jungkook is still too caught off guard, any words he wants to say getting stuck in his throat as he observes the room to see if anyone saw that.

The reality of what you just did slowly sinks in and he catches the switch, your eyes sharpening up and you take a very small step back, “Are none of these girls good enough for you?”

“What?”

You nervously swallow more of your drink which probably isn’t wise because look at what you had already done with the alcohol already in your system, “I promised you I’d get you laid by the end of this month and i’ve seen like four girls come up to you and you blew them off.”

That was true, he had done that all night but it had been such an automatic response that he wasn’t sure why he had, something about sleeping with a complete stranger in another strangers home felt wrong. That and the fact that he wanted to sleep with you was also getting in the way, but his inner self currently had that thought in a headlock, a very loose and slowly weakening headlock but a headlock nonetheless, so he was ignoring it.

“They didn’t even know who I’m supposed to be.” He lies as an excuse and it makes you laugh, tipping your cup up and pouring the rest of its contents down your throat.

“Is that you’re only reason?”

He nods stubbornly, sticking with his horrible excuse until it turns around and bites him in the ass. “Well I know who you’re supposed to be, so what does that mean?”

He blanks at that, really not expecting the turn this would take. You watch him, his big doe eyes only getting bigger at your words. He rolls his lips together in thought, his mind sorting through all the appropriate responses he could say. During his distraction he doesn’t notice his inner self releasing the headlock grip he had on his feelings until it’s too late and they’re spilling out into the open.

“It means I wanna fuck you.”

Yeah. That wasn’t what he wanted to say, at all, but his filter had clearly been lost a few shots back and when you don’t immediately slap him he doesn’t think he fucked up entirely.

“You wanna fuck me?” You repeat slowly, stepping closer to him. You had a feeling he did based on that drunk text he had sent you but you had to make sure he really wanted to and this wasn’t just a nervous response. Jimin and Yoongi were right in their observations of both of you, you wanted to sleep with him, you have ever since that night in your room and the realistic dreams involving him haven’t stopped so maybe once you sleep with him everything will mellow out in your brain.

This isn’t a crush, you try to convince yourself, this is just your hormones talking. It’s not your fault that imaginary Jungkook would moan such sweet praises in your ear while you dreamed, thats why you were stuck wearing i’m horny for jungkook glasses, and once you slept with each other all would be fine.

His eyes look around, he could see Tae and Jimin stood near the kitchen, Tae doubling over in laughter at something being said and when you see who he’s looking up it only annoys you. Taehyung didn’t have this claim on you and you knew Jungkook was just worried because he didn’t fully believe no feelings were involved between you and Tae but you were sick of people thinking you belonged to him.

You raise your hand up to cup his cheek, bringing his attention back to you, “I asked you a question Jungkook.”

He looks back over to you, seeing your own eyes staring up at him and he finds himself nodding his head. Sure you both aren’t sober at all and will he be embarrassed about this once he is, probably, but he knows he’ll regret not being completely honest tomorrow morning if he says no.

At his confirmation you smile, you had spotted the staircase nearby, knowing there would be rooms you two could occupy but when you start to tug him in the direction of it he resists.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t feel right using someone’s room to do this.” Jungkook wasn’t a virgin so you knew he wasn’t wanting this to be a certain way for his first time but he’d only ever been intimate with one person and it hadn’t gone the way he wanted at all so if he didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with you in this house it was fine by you.

“Do you want to go back to mine then?” The urgency that usually came with party hook ups was missing, you didn’t feel rushed to get in a room and tear his clothes off without speaking to each other, he wasn’t just a hook up.

When he nods his head you don’t think twice to pull him in the direction towards the front door, a loud tapping noise stopping you both in your tracks. Everyone stops talking, turning towards the source of the noise and seeing Taemin stood on top of his coffee table with a microphone in hand, his finger tapping the top of it to check it.

“Okay, fuck it works dude!” Jimin shouted out, everyones hands coming up to cover their ears when Taemin just laughs loudly into the mic.

It was time for the costume contest and as much as you wouldn’t mind seeing who won or even potentially winning the cash prize yourself, the thought of finally getting to sleep with Jungkook wins. You look back at him, your eyes asking him if he wants to wait but he shakes his head, his fingers giving your palm another squeeze. You choose not to notify your friends that you were leaving, they were all drunk enough and were already planning on sleeping at Jimin’s after this anyways so you had a few hours before they even noticed you had both disappeared.

Jungkook feels oddly calm, the nerves that had overtaken him when he was in this position the very first time not coming up, even the small sense of uncertainty he felt when it came to Jisoo was gone and he likes it. He likes the feel of your hand in his as you wait for the uber. He likes how you rest your clasped hands on your thigh, your thumb rubbing the back of his palm soothingly and when you finally manage to sneak into your building he likes the way you push him against the elevator wall, your lips slotting between his in the first sign of urgency.

When you lick your way into his mouth he tastes the strong tang of tequila that he’s sure you can taste from him as well but he doesn’t mind it. His hands coming up to wrap around your waist, the thin material of your leotard letting you feel his touch as his fingers dig into your waist to pull you closer to him. You’re on your tip toes and he’s leaning over to match your height, the sound of the elevator ding making you both pull apart with heavy sighs.

You twirl back around, your head peaking out of the elevator to make sure the coast was clear since you technically weren’t allowed to have Jungkook over at this time. Once you saw the hallway was clear you wrapped your hand over his wrist, tugging him to your door in a haste to get out of the open. You make it a few feet when the sound of the bathroom door opening makes you both freeze, Jungkook has his eyes screwed shut as he waits for someone to start to scold you both. You’re waiting for it too, especially when you turn around and spot Jihyo, your RA, standing in the middle of the hallway right in front of the bathroom door.

She’s currently rubbing her eyes, tipsy and in a revealing Sailor Mars costume. When she spots you and Jungkook looking just as tipsy and your lips swollen she just sighs, throwing her head back dramatically, “Go, hurry up and get in your room. I didn’t see anything.” You throw her a thankful look and she just shields her eyes as she makes her way back into her room, you don’t waste anymore time as you slide your key card out of your bra and unlock your room.

“Wait, your roommate.” Jungkook whispers, just now realizing that she existed. He’s stood right on the door’s threshold, refusing to come in until you literally force him, your hand tugging him in. His hands grasp your shoulders to not knock you over from the force of your pull, he finally gets a chance to look around when you flick your light on and he notices Wendy is no where to be found.

“She’s went out of town for Halloween, we’re fine, now please kiss me.” The door shuts behind Jungkook, that answer satisfies him, his hands moving off your shoulders to cup your face and bring you in for another kiss. Your mind feels like its floating as he starts to walk, leading you backwards towards your bed.

Your hands slide up his chest as you make your way to your bed, your fingers clasping the zipper of his costume and tugging it down, revealing his bare skin. He had decided not to wear anything underneath his tracksuit, he always got hot and sweaty when he was drunk so he didn’t want to add more layers than necessary, and luckily it worked in his favor.

Your fingertips leave a hot trail on his skin as you work on getting this article of clothing off of him, his hands coming away from your face as you push the sleeves down his arms, the material falling onto the floor in a heap. His lips never part from yours, his actions getting more confident, his kisses getting more urgent because he can’t seem to get enough of you.

His hands trail up to unclasp the cape around your shoulders, letting the crushed velvet garment join his top on the floor, and then its a race of getting the rest of your clothing off. You pull back from him your lips smacking together one final time when you step back, your eyes finally getting to see him shirtless for the first time.

Is he for real? Was he sculpted by the fucking gods themselves because this wasn’t fair. You always knew Jungkook worked out like a madman but you never expected him to look like this. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath, the muscles in his arms rippling as he fidgeted with the stupid belt he had on and when he finally got it off and was able to slide out of his boots and pants your wishes were granted in the form of his thighs.

You had forgotten about sliding out of your leotard and belt, your boots were kicked off to the side but when his thick thighs were exposed you dropped to the floor in front of him. Jungkook wasn’t expecting that, part of him thought you might of passed out or something from how suddenly you collapsed but when your hand come up to trail his thighs he knows you’re fine.

“Are you joking?” You mumble out, your mind acting on it’s own accord, you press open mouth kisses on his thighs, your fingers giving them small squeeze as you kiss your way up to the band of his briefs.

Jungkook had fantasized about this so many times put now that you were sitting right in front of him on your knees, your mouth kissing his dick over the fabric of his briefs, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from blowing his load the second you put it in your mouth.

“Have you ever had a blowjob Kookie?” The nickname is new but he likes it, especially when he sees how you look at him when you say it, your eyes widening slightly when he shakes his head. No he’s never had a blowjob and as much as he wants to experience his first one from you he won’t ever let himself live it down if he cums before he gets a chance to fuck you.

“Can I be honest?” He mumbles out as your fingers slip underneath the band of his briefs, beginning to tug it down slowly, his legs stepping out of the material as it bunches around his ankles.

His cock springs out without the restraint of his briefs and your mouth salivates at the sight of it. Of course Jeon Jungkook would have a beautiful big dick, its veiny with a slight upward curve, the girth of it making you bite your lip in anticipation of it stretching you open. Your eyes move back up to him and you smile gently, “Yeah of course.”

He moves his own hands to cover your smaller ones, his fingers wrapping around your fingertips to lift them off his skin. “Can we…do that next time,” it slips out before he can catch it, indication of this happening again and you take note of it, the lust clouding your mind not being against that happening, “I just really wanna fuck you.” He confesses, his body bending over, his arms hooking under your arms to scoop you up from the floor with ease.

“Yeah,” you breathe out as he stands you up, his hands cupping your cheeks with care, his thumb tracing your skin as he stares down at you, “we can do that next time.”

You reach out and let your hands touch his waist, the feel of his bare skin making you realize he’s the only one naked right now. You turn him around so his back is facing your bed, your hands gently pushing him back onto it.

He catches himself with his palms, sliding back onto your bed until he’s laying against the pillows you have set up. He watches as you reach back to unclasp the ruby belt you have, letting it fall with a clank as you move on to unbutton the top of your leotard, slipping the skin tight fabric off of your body.

Jungkook can feel his dick twitch against his abs at the sight of you, you crawl onto the bed, your fingers trailing up his thighs as you straddle him in a similar way that brings back memories of a few weeks ago. The feeling of you sat on top of him with no barrier is something he never thought he’d experience and when he feels the slick glide of you grinding down on his cock his stomach caves in, a groan leaving his lips. His fingers come up to grip your hips, your own hands wrapping around his neck as you smile down on him.

“Feel good?” You ask him, a tiny gasp escaping you when you repeat your actions and his cock nudges your clit.

His eyes move down to stare at the spot where you connect, seeing how shiny you’re leaving him as your arousal mixes with his precum makes his mouth drop open in awe. “Yeah, feels good.” He whispers out, his hands gripping your skin tighter to make you rut on him faster.

You can see the desperation growing on him, the shy Jungkook you were so accustomed to nowhere to be found as he rolled his hips up to meet your motions, his head dropping back into the pillows with a moan. With his neck wide open you lean forward, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, your teeth gently nipping at his skin, making his hips stutter.

Blame mistake number one on you wanting to see Jungkook fully fall apart underneath you but you’re not thinking too much when you reach down and grasp his cock, letting the tip of it nudge your entrance. You know you’re clean and on birth control and unless he’s been lying to you, you assume he should be clean as well.

His head snaps up at the new sensation, and Jungkook may be inexperienced but he’s not stupid, “Wait–“ You think he’s stopping you because you haven’t pulled out a condom so you pause, giving him a curious look but his mind is too full of want that he doesn’t even process the fact that there isn’t a condom “it’s gonna hurt you.” He wants to finger you, stretch you open and let his fingers explore your body until you falling apart.

“It’s okay, I like that.” You admit, giggling when you see his cheeks flush. You go back to nudging the tip of him into you, the feeling of it breaching your entrance has you moaning and Jungkook drops one hand off your hip to clutch your comforter instead, his fingers clenching around the fabric as your walls wrap around the tip of him.

“Fuck,” you groan out, he was big but the feeling of him stretching you out had another gush of arousal slip out of you, only aiding in letting you slide down another inch or so. Your hands come forward to rest on his stomach as you wait a moment, Jungkook can feel you clenching around the first few inches of him, his eyebrows furrowed together tightly at the feeling of your warmth enveloping him all around.

You relax your muscles, letting the rest of him slide into you, the tip of him just shy of nudging your cervix when you’re fully sat on him. You give him a moment to adjust, waiting until his eyes open up again, “Please move.” He croaks out, his hand coming back up to your hips to get you to do anything because the feeling of you just clenching around him was killing him.

His desperation turns you on and you start to move instantly, grinding on him to let yourself get used to the size of him before you start to lift yourself up, slamming back down, the slap of your skin connecting filling up the dorm room.

As you stare down at him you have to pinch yourself because the visual of him whimpering underneath you is an exact replica of the dreams you’ve been having. A needy Jungkook kneading the flesh of your hips, rutting his own hips up to meet you, his big eyes blown out with lust and adoration in the same damn way you’ve been dreaming about and you know you’re done for.

Jungkook can say the same, the countless times he’s dreamt of you doing this to him has him thinking he’s stuck in a dream, ready to wake up to his roommate tossing a pillow at him but it never comes because you’re actually here. You’re here on top of him, riding him like it’s something you’ve always wanted. His hand trails up from your hip to grasp your bouncing boob, giving it an experimental squeeze, his thumb and index finger tweaking your nipple and enjoying the way you moan from it.

He can feel your arousal dripping down his length every time you lift up, the remnants of it pooling around the base of his cock, he can see it as his eyes are glued to the way your lips part to take his length in. He can feel you start to get tired from the constant motion, your movements slowing down slightly so he takes it upon himself to wrap his arms around you and bring you closer to his chest, successfully flipping you over underneath him.

Your hair fans out around you and you stare up at him in shock, never thinking he’d do something like that but it only lasts a minute before hes sliding back into you. His hands are by your face, caging your body underneath his as he pounds into you.

His jaw is clenched tightly when he feels you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your fingers trying to cling onto his back from the force of his thrusts. “Do you want it harder?” He grunts out, looking down at you to see you nodding frantically, your legs wrapping around his waist to push him deeper into you.

“Please ple–“ you gasp when he slides out before rearing back into you, starting a brutal pace that you didn’t think he was capable of. “Just like that. God Jungkook.” You cry out and he feels his chest fill with pride. You were moaning out his name, he was the one making you feel this way.

You can feel him graze your bundle of nerves every time he thrusts forward, a high pitched moan leaving you and he does another experimental thrust to find the exact spot, angling his hips until you’re gasping and then he’s grinding right into it every time. Determined to get you to cum before him he keeps it up, he can feel his climax creeping in on him, you’re squeezing him so tight its almost impossible to thrust into you but he can tell you’re close when your hand comes down to rub your clit and he almost cums from that sight alone.

Seeing you squirming underneath him as your fingers worked to push yourself over the edge just made him thrust harder into you, a deep groan leaving his mouth when you gasped out, your walls clamping around him even tighter than before as you threw your head back. You had enough sense to clasp a hand over your mouth before you moaned out at as your body twitched from your orgasm, the feeling of Jungkook continuing to pound into you only making more muffled whimpers leave you from the overstimulation.

“Fuck you feel so good.” He mumbles out, his head dropping forward to rest between your neck and shoulder as he starts to rut faster into you. Your toes are curling from the after shocks of your climax, the tingles all over your body being the cause of mistake number two, “Cum inside me Jungkook, please.”

His face lifts back up at your statement, checking to make sure you mean it and when you nod and press your lips against his for another heated kiss he doesn’t hold back. His hips rolling into yours with new found energy, your body being jostled up at his action but you don’t care when all you taste is him, your kisses swallowing the desperate whine that leave him as he nears his end. His thrusts get sloppier until he’s groaning out deeply, his hips stuttering as his cock paints your walls white. You moan again at the feeling of his warm cum inside of you, letting him roll his hips a few more times as you kiss him gently to bring him back down.

His arms fail him, his body flopping on top of you in a heap, his muscles absolutely crushing you but the way he wraps your arms underneath your waist and nuzzles into you makes you forget about your inability to breath. His face is pressed against your neck under your chin, his soft dick is still inside you and he really doesn’t want to pull it out, he’d be perfectly content with going to sleep and waking up in this position.

You keep your legs wrapped around his waist, your fingers gently playing with his damp hair, “I miss your black hair.” You mumble out, breaking the silence that fell over the room.

He hums against your neck, kissing your skin gently in content when you scratch his scalp, “I’ll dye it back for you.”

You don’t know why that statement makes your heart swell but it does, your lips coming down to kiss his hair before laying back down. The both of you catch your breaths like this, Jungkook having his cheek pressed against your skin and you gently massaging his head.

He can feel the sweat on your skin start to get sticky so he decides nows a good time to pull apart, his skin peeling off of you and you’re both grimacing when he finally slides out of you, a small gush of his cum dripping out of your entrance and you squeeze your thighs shut at the feeling.

Jungkook wants to sit there and stare at his cum staining your skin but he can tell you feel icky from your face so he stands up from the bed and looks around your room, spotting your towel by your desk. He picks it up and comes back to you. His fingers gently pry open your thighs as he starts to clean you up, tossing the towel aside and motioning for you to move so you can get comfy in bed.

You shuffle around until you slide your comforter down, letting him adjust himself so you both fit comfortably. The small feelings of being tipsy are gone, your muscles completely relaxed and sleep starts to overtake you as you feel him move behind you, his arm lazily draping over you as you both start to slowly fall asleep.

“You know,” he gently speaks up, “you promised me you’d get me laid by the end of October.”

You hum in acknowledgment, and he’s smirking into your hair, “It’s technically November though so.”

You giggle softly at this, turning around in his grasp to face him, your leg slipping in between his as you get closer, “Oh how could I ever make it up to you for breaking my promise.” He lets out a fake gasp as your sarcastic response, his fingers wasting no time coming up to playfully jab at your sides, succeeded in making you squirm and laugh until his lips are kissing you again, the urgency and heat from before missing but he likes this way better.

He likes the small laughs in between kisses, the shy licks of your tongue and sighs you let out and in that moment Jungkook feels content.

Jungkook doesn’t think of whats going to happen tomorrow morning when you both wake up and the initial lust is gone. He doesn’t think of the conversation that’s gonna have to happen once the sun comes up. No he lets himself enjoy this, lets you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. He’ll worry about that when it comes.

#btsghostie #jungkook smut #bts smut #taehyung smut #i guess?? v briefly???#new

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yoonguurt · 6 years ago

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For the grade

Genre: enemies to lovers

Warnings: smut; fingering

Word count: 5,506

Y/N and Jaebum hate each other. What happens when they''re forced to work together for a school project?

You liked to life with as little negativity as possible. Sure, you had bad days, but you went through those knowing that it was simply a bad day and the next would likely be better. You really didn't have anything to complain about.Your friends were great, supportive people, your family as well. You had just one rainy cloud in your sunshine life. Lim Jaebum.

It's not like you wanted to hate Jaebum, you didn't. In fact, you really wanted to like him, you had tried to like him. He just made that near impossible. He was rude and cold. When you first met him, you wondered how someone you had just met could already hate you so much. You had met last year at your best friend Mark's end of the year party. Mark had moved into an off campus apartment and he and his roommate had decided to through the party this year. You got there early to help Mark set everything up. When you knocked on the door, Jaebum answered, scowl on his face. He merely grunted at your presence and moved aside to let you in. Throughout the night, he either acted upset at your being around or ignored you completely.

So here you were, beginning of your senior year of college, still dealing with Jaebum's shitty attitude. You had long since given up on trying to be civil and treated him as he treated you. You were supposed to meet up with Mark for coffee today, but he texted you this morning saying he felt ill. Being the good friend you were, and not trusting him to take care of himself, you decided to head to his apartment with medicine, soup and juice to take care of your best friend. The fact that Jaebum had classes all day today, made your decision that much easier. Mark had given you a spare key for emergencies, so once you arrived, you just went ahead and let yourself in.

Setting your supplies on the counter, you turned to the cabinet and grabbed a bowl and a glass. You set those on the counter, and turned back around to grab the soup. Reaching for the can, you looked up when you heard a voice. "How did you get in here?" Standing before you, stood a shirtless Jaebum. Without even meaning to, your eyes scanned down his chiseled form. You had never realized just how cut the man was. You hated to admit it, but he looked good. "You gonna stare all day or are you gonna give me an answer?" his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. "Mark gave me a key" you replied, voice laced with annoyance, "and for Pete's sake go put some clothes on." You turned around to continue your tasks, not noticing the smirk on Jaebum's face as he walked away.

When you finished heating the soup, you knocked in Mark's bedroom door, only to be met with some form of groan. Taking that as permission, you opened the door only to see a Mark size lump on the bed. Yanking the blanket off of his head, he let out another whine before turning to face you. "What the hell, Y/N?" Why are you here?" his voice was rough, either from sleep or sickness. You chuckled lightly before replying "Well, I know you and I knew you wouldn't take care of yourself so here I am." He gave you a small smile and you made him sit up so he could eat.

"I'm just saying that he didn't have to act like I broke in or something. Why is he even here, doesn't he have classes all day? And does he always walk around half naked? I mean-" your rant was interrupted by an obviously annoyed Mark. "Y/N, don't take this the wrong way but I'm sick and I really don't want to hear about the crush denial you have for JB." You actually reeled back as if you had been slapped. You? Crush? Jaebum? Absolutely not. No way. Not if he was the last man on Earth. Turning to Mark, you narrowed your eyes. "I do not have a crush on him." You were met with Mark's stupid smirk, the one he gets when he thinks he's right. "I mean it. I hate him." you continued only to still see that smirk. "Sure, Y/N. Whatever you say".

For the next week, you were at Mark and Jaebum's every day taking care of Mark. By the fourth day, you were pretty sure he was faking so you'd keep taking care of him, but you did it anyway. What are best friends for, right? On day five, Jaebum was home all day and that was an annoyance. The day was filled with snide comments and looks of dislike from the both of you. Mark had tried to get you two to at least be civil to no avail. He had even yelled once, something about both of your actions being a sham, but neither of you paid attention. You both just told him to hush and go lie back down. Finally, your time playing nurse was over and you could focus on yourself and your classes.

As a photography major, you took your classes very seriously. You had always had an eye for pictures. You could look at the most mundane things and immediately find a way to make them look beautiful through a lens. You knew all the right angles to turn any random thing into art. Being in a college where you could learn better ways to use those talents, was something you considered a great honor. You even shared a class with some film majors, which you were excited about. Getting to learn about video editing was going to be really neat. Until you got to said class and saw a familiar face. Lim Jaebum. Was there any escaping this man?

Ignoring the empty seat next to the smirking man, you walked to the other side of the room and found a seat there. Sure, you couldn't see the board very well and this particular area smelled odd, but you were far enough away from the thorn in your side that was Jaebum. Your professor introduced himself and began the class as you took as many notes as you could. As the lecture ended, he announced that the class would be divided into pairs and work through the semester on a project. You would receive your partner in an email. The project itself was up to the two of you. The only requirement was it had to be a 5 minute video about something you were both equally passionate about. You were slightly thrown off at being assigned a project on the first day, but excited.

You had been checking your email religiously for two days. You wanted to know who you were partnered with. The thought of getting to know someone new was nice, but you really wanted to start brainstorming on ideas. There was also a little nervousness. What if you and your partner had no common interests? How were you going to complete your project then? Mark had gotten tired of you staying planted by your computer, so he forced you out to get lunch with him. He even took your phone, which you thoroughly protested. "Staring at your screen isn't going to make the email come any faster, Y/N. Take a break and enjoy lunch with me." Realizing he was right, you let the project drift to the back of your mind and just enjoyed yourself.

A couple of hours later, you were returned to your home. You grabbed your laptop, thinking you'd check one more time before you set off to do something else for a while. Clicking your email tab, you noticed the notification for a new email in your inbox. You quickly clicked it, seeing it was indeed from your professor. Taking a breath and calming your nerves, you opened it. Your mind fluttered through so many thoughts before you read through the message. You still really hoped you and your partner had at least one thing in common, but you were determined to make it work regardless. You eyes scanned through the words to find your partner's name. Shit. Fuck. This was not good. There at the bottom was the name of your partner. Lim Jaebum. This was bad. Very, very bad.

Grabbing your phone, you immediately hit Mark's name and pressed the phone to your ear. After a few rings, Mark's voice comes through the speaker. You don't even let him finish his sentence before you launch into your rant. "Mark, this is bad. I just got my email and my partner is Jaebum. What am I supposed to do? We have nothing in common! We hate each other. We have months to work on this and we aren't going to be able to get anywhere I'm gonna fail." When you stopped to take a breath, Mark took the opportunity to start speaking. "You need to stop being so dramatic, Y/N. I'm positive you guys have something in common, you just have to stop being assholes to each other long enough to figure out what that is." As much as you HATED to admit it, he was right. This was an issue you would have to set aside for your grade. With a huff, you prepared your reply "Tell him to meet me at the campus cafe in 20 minutes." You hung up and sighed again. This was going to be a long semester.

You arrived at the cafe 10 minutes early. You just wanted to get the concept down, get a plan together and get out. You ordered a coffee, sat down and scrolled through your phone until a figure slid into the seat across from you. Expecting it to be Jaebum, you looked up with a scowl already on your face. Instead, you found a man you didn't know facing you. "Sup. I'm BamBam. You looked lonely over here all by yourself." Oh crap. This was the exact opposite of what you wanted. You politely thanked him for the thought, but you were waiting for someone. "Aw come on, baby, don't be like that." he started before a hand roughly on his shoulder. "You heard her, kid. Beat it." Looking up to see who your savior was, you were a bit shocked. Jaebum had never done a nice thing for you before, but there's a first for everything.

After your unwanted guest had left, Jaebum sat in the chair across from you. You were briefly distracted by the way his hair fell in his face in such a beautiful way, you wouldn't even have to mess with the angle that much to make a wonderful picture. You quickly shook your head to rid yourself of such ridiculous thoughts and cleared your throat to get Jaebum's attention. "Look, I know neither of us are happy with this arrangement, but I don't plan on getting a failing grade so we need to try to work around our dislike for each other. As of now, I know nothing about you or your interests, so why don't you tell me a little bit about what you like?" He sat there for a brief moment before sliding you a small piece of paper with a number written on it. He looked at you as his lips parted to speak, "I'll go along with whatever you want. Just call me when you decide" then he stood up and left. Yepp. This was going to be a real shitty semester.

As you walked back to your apartment, you pulled out your phone, dialing Mark's number. He answered with sass, as he always did. "If you called to bitch about JB, save your breath. I'm not listening to it." Of course, that had been what you were going to do, points to Mark on that one. You raced through topics to talk about as quickly as possible before settling on a way to find out Jaebum's interests. "Actually, he didn't give me much information, but I still want to try to make this work, so I called you. What are some of the things he's really passionate about?" You felt silly asking Mark this, but you needed to figure out how to incorporate both of your interests, pride be damned. Mark was silent for a while before you finally asked if he was still there. "Yeah. Thinking. He likes, uh, his cats?" You instantly frowned. Cats? Really? You loved cats but is that the best he could come up with? "Oh! And music! He's really into making music." Music, huh? That's something you could work with.

You hung up with Mark as you walked through your apartment door. You set your phone down and sat down at your laptop, pulled up a word document and began to type an outline for your project. Your plan as of now was to have a music video of sorts. Jaebum could use one of his songs as the music and the video could have some beautiful shots from your photographer's eye. You would each have something you were passionate about in the video. In your mind, it was perfect. Now, you just had to run it by Jaebum. Despite what he said at the cafe, a big part of you felt like he would shoot it down just because it was your idea. Making up your mind that sooner was better than later, you sent him a text explaining your idea. Almost immediately, your phoned dinged with a new message telling you to meet him back at the cafe in 10 minutes. Sighing at having to go right back out, you grabbed your keys and walked out of the door.

Opening the cafe door, you scanned the room, finding Jaebum already there. That was a bit surprising, but you made your way over and took a seat. Before you had even fully sat, he spoke in a harsh tone, "How do you know about my music?" Really? You had to come back to the cafe just to answer a question he could have asked you in a message? "I wanted to make something that had both of our passions in it, not just mine. So, I called Mark and the options he gave me were music and cats. I love cats, but I don't really want to make this video about just cats" you replied with an emotionless tone. He sat and thought about your words for a moment. "Ok, but if we do this, we're doing it my way. You get say, it's your grade too, but this is my music and I want it done right." You agreed that as long as your input was taken into consideration and it wasn't all about him, that this could work.

One week later, you were on your way to Mark and Jaebum's place to give input on song options for the video. You didn't really like the thought of being in their apartment without Mark, but you were excited about starting on the project. Knocking on the door, you felt a sudden urge to run, and you weren't sure why. It was just Jaebum. Sure, you didn't like the guy, but you had no reason to be nervous around him. You pushed the nervous feeling away just in time for him to open the door. He stepped aside to let you in, and gestured to the kitchen counter where there was a whole buffet's worth of food. "I asked Mark what you liked and he gave me a big list so I just got it all" he said rubbing the back of his neck as if he were nervous or embarrassed. You just stood there for a moment, a little shocked, before thanking him. Was Jaebum being nice to you?

You grabbed a small plate of food and the two of you ate in silence. It wasn't as awkward as you had thought it would be, it was actually strangely comfortable. When you were finished, Jaebum led you to the spare bedroom. Well, what you thought was the spare bedroom. Once he opened the door, you realized that he had a small studio set up there. He went straight to his laptop as you sat on the couch. He informed you he had two songs he was thinking of for the video. The first was a more upbeat song, the second being a slower, love type song. As you listened to the latter, you felt your heart ache in the most beautiful way. It was about love not being reciprocated, and your mind was already flooded with ideas. When it was finished, you gave him a sincere compliment on how amazing it was and told him that you would really like that to be the video song. He gave you the first genuine smile you had seen from him, and your heart fluttered.

You very quickly dismissed that flutter, no way you were gonna take that seriously. After some discussion, you agreed to meet at a nearby park the next day to do some location scoping. The leaves would be starting to fall soon and you had an idea for a shot and you wanted to find the perfect place for it. Saying a small, polite goodbye, he followed you to the door saying he'd see you the next day, and sending you off with some of the food he'd ordered. Mark called a few hours later, asking if you wanted to grab some coffee, which you readily agreed to. Making your way to your usual cafe, your mind wandered through all the ideas you had for the project.

"So, how'd it go?" were Mark's first words to you as you sat across from him. "You know, not that bad. We decided on a song and we're going to the park tomorrow to scout and see if it fits what I have in mind." you replied with a small smile. Mark's stupid smirk was prominent on his face as he raised one eyebrow. "You and JB? Getting along? It's almost like someone knew this wouldn't be so bad." You threw the paper from your straw at him, telling him to shut up. "I still don't like him, Mark. This is just for the project. It's important." The smirk didn't leave his face, but he didn't push you anymore on it. And you sure as hell didn't tell him about the heart flutter.

You met Jaebum at around noon the next day. It was a weekday, so the park wasn't overly crowded and the temperature was near perfect. You had your camera handy so you could check lighting and he had brought a tripod and video camera, just in case. Walking along the sidewalk, you came across a group of trees, leaves falling from them. You grabbed a quick picture before setting the strap back across your shoulder and walking to the middle of the trees. You just stood there for a few moments, leaves falling all around you and just looked up at the branches, admiring the beauty of nature. By the time you had turned back around, Jaebum had set the camera up, facing you. "Thought it would be a good idea to get the leaves falling" he spoke quietly, rubbing his neck again. You quickly moved out of the shot so he could get it the way he wanted. You pulled your camera out to snap a few more photos, then noticed Jaebum looking over your shoulder at the screen of your camera. "Those are really good" he half whispered before going back to his own camera.

After the day at the park, you both decided the park would be your primary location. The idea of mostly nature shots coupled with the slow song sounded very appealing to you, and Jaebum agreed. Things went surprisingly well for about a week. You had gotten multiple shots of the leaves, and a few of some children playing in the leaves. You had even convinced Jaebum to have a leaf throwing war with you. Today was a completely different story, though. You had gone to the park and gotten a few nature shots, but in the midst of shooting, it began to rain. You were immediately struck with a desire to get some shots of the downpour. Rain had always been beautiful to you. Jaebum did not agree, however. Sure, your cameras could both withstand some water, but he simply did not want to stay. This led to a slightly heated argument.

"Come on, this could make a really great shot if you'd just LISTEN" your voice slightly louder than normal. He had been very cooperative up until now, but this was something you were not willing to back down on. "Excuse me for not wanting to stand in the rain and get sick!" his voice louder than your own. "Fine, then go! I'll get the shots on my phone and you can deal with the crappy quality!" this time you were actually yelling. He threw his hands up, and walked away to gather his equipment. Not wanting to let him ruin your mood, you did a twirl in the rain, enjoying how the drops felt on your face, before turning around to get a better shot of the park at a distance. You found Jaebum still standing there, camera still on the tripod. "I thought you were leaving?" You spoke with an eyebrow quirked up. "I am. Had one more shot I wanted to get." And with that he packed up and left.

After the rainy day at the park, things were back to being strained between you and Jaebum. You were having more and more arguments, often forgetting to turn the camera off during, which led to more arguments about the amount of footage that would have to be sorted through. You wanted to shoot from this angle, Jaebum wanted to shoot from the opposite angle. It was like he went out of his way to disagree with any suggestions you had. You had been working on the project for over a month, half of which you had spent arguing. You had finally had enough. You were going to confront him about this. Picking up your phone, you typed out a message giving him your address and telling him to meet you there.

An hour later, he was at your door, camera in hand, thinking you had something you wanted to shoot. You invited him in, and he set up his camera to get it out of his hands and not just placed on your table. You gestured for him to sit on the couch, and you sat next to him. Steeling yourself, you finally set into what was on your mind. "What is your problem? We've done nothing but fight for weeks. I say something, you immediately disagree. We were getting along great there for a while, and now we're back to where we started. Speaking of, why do you hate me so much? I tried to be nice to you, I tried to be your friend. You weren't having it. What did I ever do to you, Jaebum? You were a jerk to me the first time I met you and I just don't understan-" you were suddenly cut off by his lips on yours. And even more suddenly, you were kissing him back.

He pulled back after a moment, just for you to pull him back in. He eagerly chased your lips once more. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth for him. Before you realized, he was leaning you back on the couch. He pulled back again, slightly out of breath. "Tell me to stop, and I will." You replied by pulling him to you again and a small "don't " against his lips. He moved his mouth to your neck as his hand traveled down your body, stopping to squeeze your breast. You let out a small moan, encouraging him and you felt a smirk against your neck. His hand continued to trail down your body until he reached the bottom of your shirt. Pausing, he lifted his head to give you a questioning look. You gave a simple nod, and his hand slipped under the cloth and traveled back up.

He moved under your bra, as he squeezed again. He took your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, enticing another moan from you as he nibbled at your neck. As your arousal grew, you began to buck your hips, a silent plea for more. With a throaty chuckle, he whispered against your neck. "Patience, baby." With a whine, you picked up the pace of your hips, needing some kind of relief. At an excruciating speed, his hand began to slide down your body. As he reached the button of your jeans, he gave you another questioning look. "Are you sure?" His face was serious, wanting to make sure you were absolutely certain this was what you wanted. Breathless, you muttered out, "Please."

He let out a small growl at your neediness, as he undid the button of your jeans. Sliding his hand further down, he kept his eyes on your face. When he finally reached your dripping heat, he gave you a smirk. "So wet already." As he guided a finger through your folds, you let out a moan slightly longer than before. He kept up his teasing, simply running his finger through your wetness. His dark eyes still glued to your face, he teased your entrance, before slowly pushing inside of you. He kept his movements slow, wanting to tease. All at once, he picked up the pace as he added a finger. The sudden addition caused you to cry out in pleasure, earning another growl from Jaebum. His thumb rose to find your sensitive bud, staring in slow circles before picking up speed. Your release was building up fast and he picked up the pace once again. Just as the knot in your stomach unraveled, he learned down to whisper in your ear, "Just let go.I've got you." He gave you one last nibble before leaning up to see your face. His words were all you needed for the knot to completely break, causing a cry of his name.

Jaebum helped you ride out your high before planting a kiss to your forehead. He buttoned your jeans for you before getting up to get you a glass of water. He sat back down, and you could see the obvious bulge in his jeans. "What about you?" you managed to get out between gulps of water. He just laughed and shook his head. "Another time if that's something you want. I have some things to say first." You heart stopped briefly. Did he already regret this? All kinds of negative thoughts ran through your mind. As if he could sense your thoughts, he shook his head again.

"It's nothing bad, and I definitely don't regret anything that just happened. You asked me why I hated you. I have never hated you. I'm not good with people, I can come off cold and distant for a while before warming up. After a while, we just got into the routine of arguing and being distant with each other and I just didn't know how to go about changing that. I always wanted to, always wanted to be your friend. As for why things took a turn recently, we were becoming friends and I realized something, " he paused a moment as if to think, "I realized I didn't want to be your friend. I wanted more, but you still hated me so I went back to what I knew. I'm sorry for making you think I hated you." He finished his thoughts and looked away from you.

You sat there trying to process all of the information you were just given. Jaebum had feelings for you. That was not something you expected to hear. He hadn't hated you, but you sure hadn't liked him. When did that change? When did you go from not wanting to be in the same room as him, to laying on your couch with his hand down your pants? Thinking back, you tried to find the moment it changed. Was it the smile? Or maybe him ordering everything he knew you liked to eat? That may have been the start, but you realized the big moment. The leaf fight.

It had taken you quite a while to convince him, but when you finally had, he gave you that beautiful smile again. You took off running into a pile of leaves, him closely behind you. You picked up a handle full of leaves and tossed them directly in his face, letting out a loud laugh. His smile never left his face as he picked up and even bigger handful and retaliated. You spent an hour together just throwing leaves. That was the moment. That was when everything changed.

Realizing you had been in thought for a while, you reached over and grabbed Jaebum's hand. "I'm not going to tell you that I didn't dislike you. I did. I thought you were an ass. But, I no longer feel that way. You can still be an ass, but it isn't all the time. Things changed for me, too. Even through all the arguing we've done lately, I didn't want to argue. I didn't want to go back to how we were. I wanted to move past that. So, " you took a deep breath, "Let's see where things go, yeah?"

Two months later, and it was time to turn in your project. Jaebum had done all the editing and he hadn't let you see it yet. The night before you were set to turn it in, he asked you to come by his apartment to see the final product. You knocked on the door and Mark answered. "Y/N! Are you here to see me today or are you here to see your b-" you cut him off with a shove. "Move, I get to see the video today." He laughed as you shoved by him and made your way to Jeabum's studio. You gave a slight knock before letting yourself in.

He was sitting at his laptop with his headphones on, taking them off when he noticed your presence. You sat in the chair beside him, practically bouncing. He let out a chuckle and turned to his computer, and handed you the headphones. Putting them on as he pressed play, you focused on the screen. You were expecting the familiar melody of his song, but were met with your voice instead. "Come on, this could make a really great shot if you'd just LISTEN" on the screen was a clip of you and Jaebum. It was the rainy day in the park where you argued about shooting in the rain. Confusion washed over you, why was he showing you outtakes of your fight? That clip was followed by more clips of the two of you fighting. After a moment, the music started. The screen was filled with clips you had never seen before. You staring at the leaves, you twirling in the rain, the leaf fight, all things you didn't realize had been captured.

The video played through more clips of you and Jaebum between shots. The music stopped and your voice played again, "Why do you hate me so much?" you winced at the words, not wanting to remember them. The screen transitioned to you and Jaebum on your couch as he grabbed your face and kissed you. As your voice faded out, Jaebum's replaced it. "Passion is different for every person. For most, it is taken as something they enjoy. For me, passion started as an argument, only to grow into something amazing. See, love and hate are two sides of the same coin. A very passionate coin, for you cannot have love or hate without passion." With that, the screen faded to black.

You sat there for a few beats looking at the blank screen. Jaebum carefully lifted the headphones from your head and wiped the tears you hadn't realized had begun to fall. "You hate it. Don't worry I made the original plan, we can still submit that." He moved to exit out of the video, and you grabbed his hand to stop him. "I don't hate it. It was just beautiful and I wasn't expecting it. He wiped more tears as they fell. "Do you want to see the other one?" You shook your head and pulled him in for a kiss. "No. This one is perfect." He gave you a deep kiss before barely pulling back. "I love you" he whispered against your lips. Smiling wide, you replied "I love you too, Lim Jaebum."

#got7 jaebum #jaebum angst #jaebum fluff #jaebum smut #got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 fluff #got7 angst #got7 smut #angst #smut #fluff #lim jaebum #jaebum #enemies to lovers

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a-night-at-the-0pera · 6 years ago

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Virtues Uncounted, Part 4

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

Series Pairings: Gwilym Lee x Reader, Joe Mazzello x Reader

Chapter Summary: The year is 1820, in the charming English village of Ashwick Heath. You are a young lady of distinction, rather bored during the long summer months in your family’s country estate. The only reprieve from this boredom is the handsome, if shy, Mr. Gwilym Lee, the youngest son of the noble family living adjacent to you, and his mysterious and brash American cousin, Mr. Mazzello. The first ball of the season is held at Moorhead Park on a beautiful summer evening, where your dance card is quickly filled and you spend time with friends, new and old. Gwilym’s sour mood and Joseph’s proclivity for Madeira wine send the evening into a whirlwind of emotions.

Chapter Warnings: Flirtation, alcohol consumption, angst, a kiss...

Chapter Word Count: 12.4k (oh my god)

Author’s Note: The ball has arrived! As always, I had so much fun writing this chapter and doing my research for the costumes and food and dancing. The fact that this chapter is so long....whew. Someday, I may learn to be concise but today is not that day. A huge shout-out to the Discord, and especially to @o-holynight for beta-reading and designing the moodboard (gorgeous as always)! This is a work of fiction, and all place names and peerage titles are made up by me, for ease of writing. As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, because they give me feedback! I love to hear your thoughts on the stories I write! Are you Team Gwilym or Team Joseph? Sound off in my inbox!

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Most days, you spend very little time in front of your looking glass, just glancing briefly in the morning to tie your hair back and tuck it underneath a bonnet, if you are going out. As a fresh-faced look is en vogue, there is no need for daily cosmetics, except on those mornings when you wake up with an angry red spot on your forehead, begging to be covered in concealer.

Today, though, you swear you have stared in the mirror so long, you hardly recognize the face staring back at you. Margie has worked every kind of magic on your face and hair, spending hours twisting mounds of curls into the elegant updo you are now sporting, a few ringlets hanging down by your temples to frame your face. She has anointed your face with soft, perfumed creams and powders, which make your skin as luminous and smooth as a harvest moon. Your favorite shade of rouge has delicately been dabbed on your cheeks, warming your complexion and giving you the healthy glow that the magazines promise. With a final dusting of powder, Margie steps back, marveling at her creation.

"You look positively divine, Miss."

"And to think, we still have many more steps to go," you hum, toying with a stray curl. Margie slaps your hand away and repins the curl, tapping your shoulders to prompt you to stand up.

"There is no need to be fresh with me, Miss (Y/N). I know you are tired of sitting around, but perhaps some gratitude is in order."

"You are right, thank you, Margie," you admit, walking over to your closet, "thank you for transforming this swamp troll into an acceptably painted lady."

Your lady's maid rolls her eyes, "Will we ever tame that sharp tongue of yours?”

You grin wickedly at her, "Probably not."

Margie lets out an exasperated sigh as she opens your closet doors, carding her hands over the fine fabrics of the dresses hanging inside. As she searches for the gown you will wear tonight, you walk over to the low wooden chest pushed up against the foot of the bed and unlock it, opening the top to reveal your collection of shoes. You almost immediately spot the pair you want to wear tonight, a pair of low-heeled white silk dancing shoes, delicately embroidered with swirls of golden thread. After you grab them, you close and re-lock the trunk, placing the shoes next to your vanity stool.

"Here it is," Margie says, carefully removing the dress from the closet and bringing it to the bed, draping it over her arms like a groom carries his bride into their new home. The swish of silk and the tinkle of tiny beads carries across the room as Margie lays out the gown on your bed sheets, smoothing out the fabric.

This gown was designed especially for the summer ball season. Its decorative over-skirt is made from nearly-transparent white silk and embroidered with rounds of gold thread, which glint in the fading sunlight streaming through your open window, and the muslin underskirt is breathable and light, perfect for dancing the evening away. The short sleeves are elegantly puffed, a new style trend that was all the rage in London during the winter, and the cuffs are capped with delicate cream-colored lace and tiny freshwater pearls. It is a sight to behold, perfect for the first fete of the summer.

As Margie lifts the gown over you, you hold your arms over your head, relishing in the feeling of the material slipping down your skin. You carefully slip your arms through the sleeves and guide the neckline down, careful not to disturb the artfully arranged hairstyle. Before buttoning up the back of the dress, Margie tightens your short stays one last time, making sure your bust is well-supported for the long night of activities ahead of you. Nothing is more uncomfortable than dancing a Scotch reel with an ill-fitting set of stays.

In mere moments, the maid’s expert hands do up the dress, smoothing the material across your shoulder blades with a satisfied sigh. She offers you her hand as you step into the dancing shoes, wiggling your toes to help fit your heels in.

“The belle of the ball, no doubt,” Margie smiles, turning you to face the mirror once again. You nod at her compliment, your eyes running over your appearance, a little shocked by the person in the mirror. Of course, many people in your life have complimented your looks or your choice in fashion, but there was always a touch of doubt and embarrassment when you accepted those words of praise. After all, in your mind, you were just...you. But seeing the radiant young woman in the mirror, standing confidently in her finery, you finally believe those words to be true. You are beautiful. Even just by saying those words to yourself, you glow even more.

“I am sure young Mr. Lee is going to fall flat on his face when he catches a glimpse of you tonight,” Margie continues, smirking as she guides you to sit back down on the vanity stool.

“Margie!”

“Mark my words, Miss, that man is single-handedly going to fill your dance card tonight.”

You roll your eyes at her, but smile in spite of yourself, imagining Gwilym actually dancing all the songs of the evening, instead of standing quietly on the periphery. That would be a fine change of pace for a Moorhead Park ball, indeed, but entirely unlikely. No, you will most likely end up spending the evening dancing with the various gentlemen acquaintances of the Earl, when you are not lingering by the refreshments.

Gwilym. The letter. Your eyes go wide in the mirror when you realize you still have not read the letter that Fitzgerald gave you at breakfast this morning, the parchment still sealed and tucked inside Sense and Sensibility on your desk. A quick glance at the clock near the door tells you that you have less than 15 minutes until the carriage departs for Moorhead Park, and Margie still has to finish dressing your hair and apply product to your lips. Perhaps, if you rush her along, you could still read the note before you leave…

“Margie, I can finish up here,” you attempt, reaching for the white ostrich plume on the vanity, “I am sure Mother needs your assistance.”

“Nonsense,” Margie quips, smacking your hand away from the feather, “your mother has been ready for hours. She wants you to look your finest. Besides, she has been dressing her own hair since well before I was in her employ. You, however, cannot be trusted to pin even a feather in securely.”

“That is not true,” you huff, slumping in the chair, “I am sure I would be fine.”

Margie just raises her eyebrows, delicately lifting up a circlet of freshwater pearls from its storage case on the vanity, tucking the headdress carefully in your curls and expertly securing it in place with pins. She then picks up the ostrich plume, running her fingers along the white wisps to fluff out the feather, poking it into your hair at a jaunty angle and pinning it firmly. With a self-satisfied nod, she reaches for a brush and the pot of lip cream, painting your lips with the rosy shade.

“And there we are, all done.”

You glance at the clock again. Ten minutes. You might have enough time to read the letter, if Margie leaves right now.

“Thank you so much, Margie, you have truly outdone yourself,” you smile, your eyes flitting to the book on your desk, “Will you tell Mother I will be down in a few minutes?”

“Of course, Miss.”

Margie curtsies lightly and walks out, closing the door behind her with a soft click. In a flash, you dart over to your desk, flipping through the pages of the novel to find the letter, still safely wedged in Chapter Nine. As gently as possible, you run your nail underneath the red wax seal, which unsticks from the folded parchment seam with a gentle pop. As you unfold the letter, you notice your hands are trembling slightly, surely from the nerves you feel about the amount of time you have to read. Surely.

Your eyes begin to scan the first line of the letter, smiling at Gwilym’s elegant cursive writing, and the fact that he scribbled out “Miss Woolmere” to write in “(Y/N)”.

Dear Miss Woolmere (Y/N),

I hope you do not find it impertinent of me, but I…

The sound of footsteps in the hallway causes you to jump, and you quickly fold up the letter, your hands shaking even more aggressively than before. You had no sooner shoved the letter back into Sense and Sensibility when your mother swings open your bedroom door, smiling broadly at you.

“My dearest, you look simply ravishing!” she cries, walking towards you with her arms outstretched.

“Thank you, Mother,” you gulp, still trembling from the surprise of being barged in on. You nudge the book further towards the back of your desk.

“Why are you shaking, (Y/N)?” she asks, her brows knitting together, “is it nerves for the ball? You shall surely be the most enchanting young lady there tonight, there is no doubt about that.”

“That is not what I am worried about,” you mumble, not meaning for her to hear, but of course she does.

“Are you nervous about seeing Mr. Lee?” she asks in a hushed voice, sitting on your bed and patting the place next to her for you to join. You sigh and sit down, folding your hands in your lap to try and still them. Your mother takes your silence as assent and reaches out to squeeze your arm reassuringly.

“My dearest, Mr. Lee will be utterly smitten with you. Even more so than he already is. He adores you.”

“Mother…,” you weakly protest, your nerves too shot to bite back as you usually would.

“(Y/N), I know it can be scary to reckon with our feelings for men, especially those we have known for a long time,” she begins, looking earnestly at you, “God knows I was terrified to admit how I felt about your father, and the two of us had only been acquaintances for a year when he asked for my hand. You and Mr. Lee have many years of friendship between you. That makes things easier...and harder.”

You nod, feeling a few tears threatening to fall. Never once has your mother spoken so softly, so earnestly to you about Gwilym, and it touches your heart to know that despite her constant needling, she does want to understand.

“Thank you, Mother,” you say quietly, reaching for the white gloves Margie laid out earlier on the bedspread, “I just worry that there are many things unsaid between Mr. Lee and myself...things that we wish we could say.”

“Then, by all means,” your mother says cheekily, “say them tonight while you are dancing.”

With that, she tugs you up off the bed with her, looping her arm in yours and leading you toward the door. You tug on your gloves, giving Sense and Sensibility one last look before you leave your bedroom and head down the stairs, the hem of your gown brushing the marble steps.

“There are my pretty girls!” your father booms, opening his arms to you as you reach the ground floor, and you hug him gently, careful not to smudge your cosmetics. He pecks your mother on the cheek, with earns him a blushing smack on the arm from her, before he steps back from the door, motioning the party outside to the waiting carriage. Once safely inside, with the feather in your hair bending slightly as it brushes the roof, your father knocks firmly, prompting the driver to go.

The sun is at its most golden at this time in the summer, the light as bright and brassy as a field of wheat. It bathes the countryside in a wash of warmth, making everything it touches just a little more magical. As the carriage rolls down the road, you can just make out the tip of the lake behind the manor house at Moorhead Park, its surface sparkling brilliantly. The house in front is equally lustrous, the windows glinting like signal mirrors in the golden light as the horses turn left into the long drive. There are already at least a dozen carriages lingering along the road, their drivers, having already carried out their duty of dropping off their employers, idly chatting and watching as new guests arrive.

As your driver pulls the horses to a halt, the carriage door is opened and the steps pulled out by two sets of gloved hands. You bend your head, careful to make sure that your feather exits the carriage with you, and reach out for assistance. One of the nearby grooms instantly offers his gloved hand, bringing a familiar head of sandy-brown hair into your view.

“Good evenin’, Miss Woolmere. Welcome to Moorhead Park.”

You smile brightly at the Irish groom, recognizing him instantly, “Hello, Mr. Leech. Thank you.”

Allen grins up at you, holding your hand tightly as you gather your skirts in order to see the steps under your feet. You descend delicately, attempting to not lose a shoe in the process. Once you are safely on the gravel of the drive, Mr. Leech turns to offer his hand to your mother, who takes it while looking between the groom and yourself. She nods her thanks to him, coming up beside you with a sidelong glance as your father exits the carriage.

“You are familiar with one of the grooms?” she mumbles, sounding both curious and accusatory as the three of you head towards the front door of the manor.

“Mr. Leech helped me find Mr. Lee the other day, when I visited him at the stables,” you reply flatly, straightening the lace on your sleeve.

“You visited Mr. Lee?”

“Yes. I thought you wanted the two of us to spend more time together.”

Your mother widens her eyes at you, clearly miffed, “I most certainly do, but at the stables? How vulgar, (Y/N).”

“If I am to marry this man, as you so clearly desire,” you bite back, “should I not attempt to engage in his interests? Gwilym likes horses, and I was trying to see why he likes them so much.”

“Mr. Lee,” your mother corrects lowly, tapping her fan impatiently on your arm.

“Yes, Mr. Lee,” you hiss back, acutely aware that you are now likely within earshot of the other guests as you enter the large front hall of Moorhead Park.

“Good evening, Baron and Baroness,” Reeves says, bowing deeply to them, “and Miss Woolmere. The Earl and Countess extend their warmest welcome to you all. Ladies, here are your dance cards for the evening.”

The butler extends two elegantly designed cards to your family on a silver platter, the cards each topped with a pink ribbon. You take your card, tying it securely onto your fan before hastily reading over the dances, to see if any of your favorites are on it. Surprisingly, several of the spots where you are to put the name of the gentleman with whom you will dance are filled in already.

A certain Mr. Gwilym Lee has claimed three of the dances on your card already. Sneaky. He has claimed the first dance of the night, a quadrille, as well as two partner dances later on. You gulp, realizing that one of the dances he has requested is the one waltz of the evening. The waltz is a new dance from the continent, only introduced to polite society dances a few years ago. You remember your father reading aloud diatribes in the news against the scandalous dance, which requires partners to embrace. In fact, even Lord Byron wrote about how provocative the new dance was. It is certainly a bold statement for Gwilym to claim that dance, but there is no one else in the room you would rather spend such an intimate dance with. At least it is with your friend.

You finally glance up as you are passing underneath the magnificent crystal chandeliers in the ballroom, the diamantine cuts of the gemstones scattering shards of light across the floors and walls, which are clad in gold gilt paneling and mirrors. A band is setting up in the corner of the expansive room, the flutist and violinist arguing quietly about where to place their music stands. The scent of pigeon pie and the sound of clinking dishware pulls your attention to the next room over, where the large dining table has been piled high with delicacies. Pastel pink petit fours, impressively molded jellies, and candied fruits catch your eyes as you walk along the table, deciding what to tuck into first. At balls such as this, dinner is not a grand seated affair, but rather a nibbled one, with the guests standing around and talking before, during, and after the dancing. You notice a little hand-written notice on the centerpiece, saying that ice cream shall be served at the midpoint of the dance schedule, and you lick your lips in anticipation.

“Miss Woolmere!”

You turn to see Joseph making his way around the table towards you, a glass of Madeira wine in one hand and a plate laden with treats in the other. He is dressed in an unremarkable navy blue suit, which fits him impeccably, but is nonetheless a rather bland choice for such an elegant ball. Your confusion and distaste must read on your face, as the eager smile falls from his lips, quickly replaced with a fierce scowl.

“What? You do not approve of my outfit?”

Your eyes go wide and you shake your head, trying to think of something tasteful to say, “It is not that I do not approve, Mr. Mazzello. It is a....fascinating choice. Quite plain for a ball thrown by an earl. For a ball that you are hosting, in a way, as a resident of Moorhead Park.”

His scowl deepens as he takes a long swig of the reddish-brown liquid in his glass, “I am going to kill that blasted cousin of mine, I swear.”

“What does Mr. Lee have to do with this?”

“That fat-witted devil has been telling me all week to tone down my manner of dress, that many people find my bright neckties and patterned vests to be entirely too ostentatious for the English country,” he grumbles, “and so I decided, since I would be meeting many new acquaintances tonight, to wear this plainer suit, in hopes of not scandalizing anyone.”

“Surely you know, Mr. Mazzello, that scandalous glances seem to follow you here.”

He nods darkly, taking another sip of Madeira, “and the haughty fop has the audacity to show up in that.”

“In what?”

You turn to follow Joseph’s gaze, eyes instantly locking onto the sight in front of you. Mr. Gwilym Lee is dressed in an impossibly elegant white suit, heavily embroidered with what must be yards of silver thread, looking much like a fairy tale prince. The jacket is covered in silver leaves and animals and it is buttoned up to his neck, the sides opening just enough to reveal the red silk lining. This same crimson shade is on the epaulets on the suit’s shoulders, which are capped in silver ribbing. You have never seen a suit like it at any ball, and never in a million years would you imagine your friend Gwilym, who willingly spends each day ankle-deep in horse muck, to be the man to wear such a creation. It is utterly breathtaking.

“He must have been planning forever,” Joseph pouts, “that embroidery alone must have taken months. It really isn’t fair.”

“Perhaps, next time, you should come prepared for a ball,” you tease, “after all, you are supposed to be here to learn society etiquette.”

Joseph just glares at you, setting down his glass in order to take a large, angry bite of pigeon pie. With his mouth still full, he glances at you, finally taking in your appearance.

“By the way, you look magnificent tonight, Miss Woolmere,” he mumbles, a few crumbs falling from his lips.

“Thank you, Mr. Mazzello,” you reply, wrinkling your nose slightly at him, “generally, when gentlemen compliment me, however, they do not spew pigeon at me.”

Joseph swallows harshly, attempting to clear away his mouthful of food, but before he can reply, there is a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“Miss Woolmere, how dazzling you are,” Gwilym says, bowing deeply to you, “I am so glad that you were able to grace us with your presence tonight.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lee, it was so kind of you to invite me,” you reply, slowly curtsying, “and I must say, I am enamored with your suit this evening. It is wholly unique.”

Gwilym grins at that, and you can hear Joseph scoff beside you as he washes down his pie with more wine.

“Did you see…,” Gwilym begins, glancing down to the piece of paper dangling from your fan.

“I did,” you nod, “and I look forward to it.”

“See what?” Joseph butts in, still glaring at his cousin.

“Nothing that concerns you,” you snap at him, tapping your fan impatiently in your hand. Joseph’s eyes go wide at your tone and he steps away to go search for someone to refill his glass, clearly not wanting to be involved in the conversation between you and Gwilym any more.

“May I fetch you a refreshment, Miss Woolmere?” your friend offers, gesturing towards the table, “we have anything your heart desires, I am sure of it.”

“Anything my heart desires?” you muse, a playful grin on your lips, “and what do you know of my desires, Mr. Lee?”

Gwilym goes positively scarlet at your words, stammering about fetching you both a glass of something as he takes off across the room, running a hand through his coiffed hair. You flit around in the meantime, exchanging greetings with many of the landed gentry of Ashwick Heath and the surrounding towns and beginning to fill the remaining slots on your dance card. Naturally, your father and the Earl of Moorhampton each ask for a dance, as well as a few of the other gentlemen you know. Mr. Dempsey, the son of the Baron of Elbysbroke, is a man of 30 years and a vigorous dancer, from what you can remember from last season, and he eagerly requested to dance the Scotch reel with you. The shy Mr. Berland, just 17 years old, agreed to dance a country dance, smiling sweetly to himself when you jotted his name down. Just as you are about to go looking for him, Gwilym returns, less red in the face and holding two full glasses of punch.

“Apologies for my delay,” he murmurs, “Mother wanted me to greet some of the young ladies she was speaking to.”

“Anyone interesting?” you ask, taking a sip from the offered cup of punch.

“Not anyone in particular,” he shrugs.

“Oh, come now, Gwilym, you must dance with someone other than me tonight!”

He just smiles and shakes his head. “You know me. I like to watch, mostly. There just so happens to be three particularly interesting dances tonight.”

“And why not dance with three different ladies?”

“Why not dance with one exceptional lady?” he again shrugs, taking another sip of his punch.

You quickly take another, longer drink from your cup, trying to calm the nerves that have suddenly sprung up in your stomach. Why does Gwilym insist on dancing only with you? You are not the only pretty young lady here tonight by any means, and in that dazzling suit, he is sure to get plenty of attention.

“Who would have thought you to be a charmer, Mr. Lee?” you tease quietly.

“There is more to me than perhaps even you know, (Y/N),” he returns softly, his eyes staring intently into yours. It sends a shiver down your spine, and you polish off your punch, suddenly dreadfully hot.

“I think I will take a turn around the room,” you say quickly, handing your empty cup to the servant waiting nearby, “but I will see you soon for the first dance of the evening.”

Gwilym nods silently, bowing slightly to you as you walk off in the opposite direction, a bead of sweat forming on your temple. You quickly dab it away, making a beeline for the dessert tray on the polished oak dining table, your gloved hand hovering indecisively between the silver trays of sweets.

“I have found the petit fours to be excellent, Miss, if you do not mind my saying so,” a strange voice chimes out next to you. You turn to see a handsome young gentleman hovering by the choux cremes, his blue-green eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

“I appreciate the recommendation, sir,” you smile kindly, curtsying to him, “I am Miss (Y/N) Woolmere.”

“Mr. Rami Malek, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Malek...what an interesting last name...you must not be from England, sir.”

“How astutely observed,” he drawls, his chin lifting a little in indignation.

“I...I meant no offense…” you stammer, “I apologize for my rudeness.”

“No matter,” he waves nonchalantly, “you are indeed correct. My family is from Egypt, though I was raised in America, and I now live in London.”

“Excuse me, did you say you grew up in America?” a familiar voice rings out from across the table. Joseph quickly makes his way to you and Mr. Malek, who glances at you with confusion.

“Mr. Mazzello,” you murmur quickly, “he is an American cousin of the Earl and Countess, and surely wishes to talk your ear off about Manhattan.”

“I certainly do!” the auburn-haired man grins, clapping Mr. Malek on the shoulder, “a fellow Yank, all the way out here in the middle of nowhere! How refreshing!”

Mr. Malek winces a little, but smiles nonetheless, and he and Joseph begin to speak about where in America they both love. You, being unfamiliar with the geography, tune out the conversation, choosing instead to focus on the trays of delicacies in front of you. After a few minutes of sampling sweets, you decide to reenter the conversation, desperate to know more about the dark-haired gentleman in front of you.

“Why did your family leave Egypt, Mr. Malek?”

“We fled Egypt to escape Napoleon’s invasion in 1798 and relocated to America, where we lived in Charleston. When I was of age, I struck up a correspondence with our remaining relatives in Egypt, who I learned were growing cotton, so I became a fabric merchant and moved to London, where I now import the finest Egyptian cotton for the ladies of England to design their finery from.”

“How exciting your life has been,” you smile, “I am eager to know more, Mr. Malek.”

“Well, perhaps I can tell you more during a dance?” he smiles, an air of flirtation to his proposal.

“I believe I can arrange that,” you agree, jotting his name down, “how does a quadrille sound, the fourth dance of the night?”

“I would be honored,” he agrees, his large blue-green eyes trained on yours as he kisses your hand lightly.

Joseph has been standing idly by, sipping regularly from his glass of Madeira, but when he overhears this interaction with Mr. Malek, his attention snaps immediately to the card in your other hand.

“Miss Woolmere, you have not asked me to dance with you.”

“Indeed I have not, Mr. Mazzello, as a gentleman must ask a lady to dance, not the other way around,” you say, quirking a brow at him.

“Oh, yes, um...may I dance with you this evening?”

“Perhaps...if I have room.”

You make a great show of looking at your dance card, and Mr. Malek chuckles at your antics, his eyes glinting in amusement. Joseph’s face is anything but amused, a distinct sense of fear clouding his eyes as he watches you hem and haw over the piece of paper. The teasing smile falls from your face, however, when you see that every line on your card has a name scribbled above it.

“Hmm...I am indeed full,” you say, truthfully and a little sadly, “I do apologize, Mr. Mazzello.”

“Oh,” he sighs, crestfallen, “it is my fault for not asking sooner. That truly is a pity.”

You bite your lip, debating what to do. There are a fixed number of dances at the ball, and you cannot just request that the musicians play another, but it is also quite rude to not keep your promise to someone already written on your dance card. The only person you could consider crossing off would be your father, but he and Mother would be less than pleased that you have cast family aside for a commoner like Mr. Mazzello. There is no other solution to your dilemma. Unless…

You impulsively and decisively scribble out Gwilym’s name next to the waltz, haphazardly squeezing in Joseph’s above the messy scrawl. Surely your friend will not mind dancing only two songs instead of three...after all, you are showing hospitality to one of his guests.

“I can pencil you in for the waltz, if that is alright, Mr. Mazzello. Do you know how to waltz?”

Joseph nods feverishly, quite relieved that you found a space for him.

“I can waltz. How did you…?”

“Oh, Gwilym had asked for three dances... I figured two is plenty? Besides, he will not mind...he prefers to lurk during these things, anyways.”

The color drains from Joseph’s cheeks a little, and he gulps slowly, unsure about your assumptions about his cousin.

“Are you sure my cousin will be amenable to this?” he asks, rubbing his neck anxiously.

“I am sure it is of no consequence to him,” you say nonchalantly, “now, if you will excuse me, gentlemen, there are some more people I wish to greet tonight. See you on the dance floor.”

With a swish of your skirts, you turn and walk off, snagging one last petit four as you leave. Your mother beckons you over to be introduced to some young military officer by the name of Captain Wilshire, who is rather put out when you have to decline his offer of a dance. However, your mother is heartily thrilled that your card is already full, and she attempts to grab it to look over who you are engaged with for the evening. With a harsh look to her and a slight curtsy to Captain Wilshire, you take off again, scanning the room for familiar faces, not expecting to recognize many other guests.

But you do. A bright pair of blue eyes, framed with thick, long lashes, stares at you from across the room, widened in shock and recognition.

"(Y/N)? Miss (Y/N) Woolmere, is that truly you?"

You beam, recognizing the young woman walking towards you instantly.

"Miss Boynton! What a marvelous surprise!" you squeal, reaching out to hug her, "What are you doing here in Ashwick Heath? I thought your family lived in London year-round."

"We do," Lucy giggles, "but my mother came down with a cough, so she and I have retreated to the country for her to take the air. We are staying with our cousins in Meddington, who are acquainted with the Earl, so when the invitation for the ball arrived a few days ago, I decided to tag along. If I had known you had lived so nearby, I surely would have called on you by now!"

You nod, smiling at her. The two of you became acquainted during the most recent London season, where you gossiped the long nights away, tucked into the corners of grand ballrooms and palatial reception halls. Lucy's family is not ennobled (although the rumors in London are hinting that her father is soon to be given the Barony of Marshwood), but they are fabulously wealthy from the tea industry, importing the supposed favorite leaves of the Prince Regent himself. That is how she can afford the glamorous gowns that she wears and often designs herself. Tonight, she is sporting a heavenly creation, an impossibly soft and ethereal pink gown which is cinched under the bust with a ribbon covered in silk roses. More of those silk roses are braided into her hair, giving her the appearance of a forest nymph or nature sprite. She is truly a sight to behold, and you know that all the gentlemen at the ball tonight will be quite eager to find themselves on her dance card.

"Any eligible beaus here in Ashwick Heath?" she asks, looping her arm in yours as the two of you take a turn around the room, "you must tell me all about what you have been up to since we last saw each other."

"Tragically not," you giggle, "the only young man in miles who my parents would even consider is the Earl's son, Mr. Lee, and he and I are not beaus. In any sense."

"Mr. Lee?" Lucy gasps quietly, "you mean, that handsome gentleman in the white suit? My cousin pointed him out to me when he arrived. (Y/N), he is such a catch! A little stiff for my tastes, but a catch nonetheless."

"My Lord, everyone wants to play matchmaker for me and Mr. Lee," you groan, pouting at Lucy, "he and I are simply friends!"

"Is he on your dance card for the evening?"

"Yes," you nod, showing Lucy the card, "twice."

She smirks at you, her delicate finger pointing to the scribbled out name next to the waltz, "thrice."

"Yes, well, one of his cousins is staying here at Moorhead Park for the summer and requested a dance. I figured I would be hospitable and dance with him, and I am sure Gwilym will not mind, as the host."

"I will not mind what?"

Gwilym's silky voice catches you by surprise and both you and Lucy gasp, turning quickly to see that brilliant white suit again.

"Oh, Mr. Lee!" you exhale, "you scared us."

"My sincerest apologies, ladies, it was not my intention to do so."

"That is quite alright," Lucy purrs, extending her hand to Gwilym with a full-lipped smile, "Miss Lucy Boynton, charmed to make your acquaintance."

Gwilym blinks quickly, swiftly raising her hand to his lips and down again, clearly flustered by her forwardness. "Mr. Gwilym Lee, son of the Earl of Moorhampton, at your service, Miss."

"(Y/N), you never told me how handsome your neighbor is," she giggles in a stage whisper, smacking your arm playfully.

You just smile awkwardly at her, uncomfortable by her sudden change in demeanor, especially in Gwilym's presence. Did she not say just moments ago that she did not fancy him? So why now is she so shamelessly flirting?

"Yes..." you breathe out, "My mother happens to think Mr. Lee is the most comely gentleman in the county."

Gwilym chuckles heartily at that, fully aware of your mother's loud overtures of adoration for him. "And I think she is the most shameless flatterer this side of the English Channel."

"Very true," you laugh, "Have you seen her tonight? I believe she is waiting for you to ask her to dance, Mr. Lee."

"As I told you earlier, I only wish to dance three songs this evening," Gwilym says lowly, "and those three are all on your card."

"Really?" Lucy gasps, grabbing your dance card and looking over it, "I only see you listed twice, sir."

Gwilym stares at you in confusion, his mouth twisting oddly. "I thought..."

"You were on my card for three dances," you begin, feeling guilt settle in your stomach, "but Mr. Mazzello asked me to dance, and my card was full already...I figured you would not mind my being hospitable, especially since he is your guest."

A muscle twitches in Gwilym's jaw, but he says nothing, instead choosing to just stare at you.

"You...do not mind, do you? I can tell Mr. Mazzello..."

"No," Gwilym says stiffly, "that is fine. Fine."

"I am still dancing the opening quadrille with you, and the cotillion!"

"So you gave him the waltz?"

"I suppose...I suppose I did, yes."

"Right," Gwilym mutters, his usually calm blue eyes blazing, "well then, Miss Woolmere, I shall see you for the quadrille."

"Mr. Lee, if you would still like a partner for the waltz, I would be honored," Lucy pipes up, trying to break the all-too-apparent tension.

"Thank you for your offer, Miss Boynton, but I suddenly have no taste for the waltz tonight," Gwilym grumbles, bowing to the two of you stiffly before walking away.

"Well, that was uncomfortable, to say the least," Lucy giggles softly, turning to look at your petrified face, "Oh come now, (Y/N), it was a simple blunder on your part. But I can see now just how infatuated Mr. Lee is with you."

"Well, perhaps you would like to give me a run for my money," you quip, "you were certainly flirting enough."

She shakes her head, the silk petals in her hair rippling. "Oh, (Y/N), I was flirting merely to test the waters. As I mentioned earlier, Mr. Lee is handsome but entirely too proper for me. No, I wanted to see how he would react. And the answer is clear to me. He only has eyes for you, darling."

Her words reach your ears, but you do not react, just watching Gwilym's retreating form pass into the ballroom. Your brain is running faster than a racehorse, desperately trying to make sense of what just happened. Gwilym was properly mad that you gave one of his dances to Joseph, but still obliged you, despite that fiery look in his eyes. That is certainly the behavior of a man who respects the choices of women, but the apparent jealousy is very new for your friend. He was almost...possessive. And it is truly bizarre that he turned down a waltz with Lucy, easily the most charming young lady in the room. What can it all mean? Surely, if Gwilym had any sort of feelings for you beyond friendship, he would have told you. Right?

Lucy prods your shoulder, looking concerned. "(Y/N)? Are you feeling alright? You look quite unwell."

"I'm fine, perfectly fine," you return, shaking your head to clear the swirling thoughts from it, "I just think I may need something to drink."

"Of course," Lucy beams, taking you by the arm and leading you towards the refreshments. No sooner than the two of you have finished your punches, the musicians strike up the introduction to the quadrille. The two of you look at each other in excitement, hastily placing down your cups and hurrying into the ballroom, looking around for your respective partners. From across the room, you spot Gwilym in his flashy suit, standing partnered with his parents for the four-person dance, glancing around to find you. You step over quickly, popping up beside him with a curtsy. The Earl and Countess smile graciously at you as Gwilym reaches out, firmly grasping your gloved hand in his.

At the signal of the dancing master, the dance floor springs to life, bodies swirling and prancing past each other under the glittering chandeliers. Gwilym's sullen expression quickly disappears, a bright grin overtaking his features as the two of you whirl around, holding each other by the hands. You switch partners briefly, linking arms with the Earl and Gwilym and his mother sashay underneath your outstretched arms. The intricate dance seems to fly by, the upbeat tune played by the flutist carrying away all your previous worries. By the time the dance ends, everyone in the room is beaming, thoroughly invigorated by the energy of the opening song.

You hardly have a moment to breathe, since as soon as you have curtsied to Gwilym, Mr. Dempsey bounds up to you, bowing quickly before taking you by the hands to the center of the floor, ready to begin the Scotch reel. The lively dance is matched only in energy by your partner in particular, who sends you flying across the floor with shrieks of delight. A country dance with your father follows, where the two of you have a grand time leading the other couples in the room for a few moments. Mr. Malek is indeed an elegant dancer, floating across the floor with you in perfect time to the music, but his eyes keep flitting over to watch Lucy dance with Joseph, the two of them giggling as they prance about. Next, the Earl claims you for the minuet, a slow and rather old-fashioned dance, where he compliments your dress and your mastery of the steps.

The dancing master calls for a short break in the dancing, to allow a pause for refreshment. You hurry to the punch bowl, dabbing off the sweat droplets on your forehead as you sip the concoction. A bump on your shoulder startles you, and you turn to see Joseph pouring himself another glass of Madeira, his hands a little unsteady.

"May I help you, Mr. Mazzello?" you venture, stepping closer towards him.

"'m fine," he grunts out, managing to pour himself a hearty glass of the amber-colored wine, "more than fine, 'm great! Having a ball, as they say."

"Have you danced any of the songs yet? Our waltz is up next," you say, watching him down his glass in a few gulps, "so perhaps, you should lay off the Madeira for the time being."

"I danced with that Miss Boynton, one of the quadrilles, I think," he hiccups, "she's very pretty, and quite cheeky, too. But I think she greatly prefers the company of our new friend, Mr. Malek."

He points to the corner of the room, where Lucy is coyly smiling at an utterly smitten-looking Mr. Malek, who is offering her a biscuit from his plate.

"A textile importer and one of London's most fashionable young women...seems to me like a match made in heaven," you smile, happy that your friend has found her match for the evening.

"Perhaps we will be so lucky, eh?" Joseph winks, balking at your confused look, "I meant with others, of course, you with Mr. Lee and me with some lady, naturally..."

"Who says I am here only for Mr. Lee?" you counter, giggling at Joseph's drink-induced foot-in-mouth disease, "I seem to remember more than just his name on my dance card. You are on there, are you not?"

"I...I am," he replies.

"So then there is no need to be so insufferably jealous of your cousin, now is there, Mr. Mazzello?"

"I am not jealous," he grumbles, setting down his empty wine glass.

"Oh, my mistake then," you smile, reaching out to take his hand, "I believe the waltz is about to start."

You lead Joseph to the center of the ballroom, quickly joined by other couples as you bow to each other. Joseph takes your right hand in his left delicately, gazing softly at you as he snakes his other arm behind your back, placing his right palm firmly on your shoulder blade, the proper position for the waltz. You were half-expecting him to be brash and indecent and hold you by your waist, but Joseph is apparently full of surprises. The slow three-four beat begins, the violin and cello beginning to play as Joseph leads you across the floor, spinning in wide circles as your skirt spins out around your ankles.

"I am happy you saved this dance for me," he murmurs, staying perfectly in step as he talks.

"Well, technically, I did not save this dance for you," you tease, "but I am happy I am dancing with you, too. You are surprisingly good at this."

"What, just because I am from America, I should be a terrible dancer? You make many bold assumptions, Miss Woolmere. I happen to love waltzing," Joseph replies, an easy smile on his face.

"I was referring more to the staggering amount of Madeira I have seen you consume tonight, sir."

Joseph nods, "Ah, yes. Well, I can hardly be blamed. After all, the Madeira is excellent, and I do so greatly wish to forget this terribly bland suit I was tricked into wearing."

You giggle as Joseph pauses your partnered steps to spin you around, guiding your movements with his left hand over your head. He seamlessly rejoins you and the two of you continue spinning to the right, the music growing louder as you pass the musicians. Perhaps it's just the scent of Madeira coming from Joseph's lips, or perhaps it's the gentle thrill of the violin, but you find yourself utterly intoxicated in his arms.

"Perhaps it is bland, but you do look handsome in it," you say genuinely, looking directly into his eyes.

"Oh, do I?" he teases, "Imagine me receiving a compliment from Miss Woolmere. How extraordinary I must look, in order to garner one word of praise from her angelic lips."

You feel a heat rising in your cheeks and you look away from him, not wanting him to know the effect his words have on you, but he notices, craning his neck to catch your eyes again.

"I mean it, Miss Woolmere. You are like an angel, a vision in white and gold. Church ceilings should be graced in your visage.”

"That is blasphemous, sir," you counter, "surely you cannot mean that."

He grins wickedly at you. "I am a God-fearing man, Miss Woolmere, but if complimenting a beautiful woman is a sin, then my soul surely belongs to Lucifer."

His hand, which is still firmly on your shoulder, presses you closer to him as the final chorus of the waltz rings out from the musicians. Your gaze flickers between his eyes and his lips, both just inches away from your own. You know you only have a few more private moments left with the bold auburn-haired man, but you are more confused than ever. Is he seriously saying what you think he is?

"You confuse me, Mr. Mazzello."

"How so, Miss Woolmere?"

"I don't....I don't know."

Joseph laughs, throwing his head back as he spins you once more, and you appreciate the moment of distance, willing your mind to clear. The last time you and Joseph spoke, you nearly chased him from your parlor, calling him a pompous bastard. Yet here he is, holding you tightly in his arms, his eyes flitting around your face, seeming to harbor feelings despite hardly knowing you.

You are jogged from your thoughts by Joseph releasing your hand and shoulder, bowing deeply to you as the song ends. You curtsy absentmindedly, still floating between the realms of reality and imagination when something snaps you back. Hard.

Gwilym is staring daggers at the back of Joseph's head, the flicker of anger you noticed earlier in his eyes increased to a fiery blaze. The choux creme pastry in his fingers has been thoroughly squashed, the whipped cream filling spilling out over his hand, but he does not seem to notice. When his eyes meet yours, the fire dies a little, replaced with a soft look of resignation. You cock your head at him, begging him to come and talk, but the shy Mr. Berland clears his throat next to you, signalling that he is ready to claim his dance as Joseph backs away.

Last year at the Moorhead Park ball, Mr. Berland was just 16 years old and a blushing, anxious boy, too terrified to even make eye contact with you whilst you danced. This year, he confidently takes your hand and smiles at you as he bows, but remains as taciturn as ever, which thankfully provides you with the opportunity to think as you go through the motions of the dance. Gwilym is still glaring at Joseph, who is chatting animatedly to a young woman over on the side of the ballroom. He is leaning close to her, his ear hovering close to her lips in an attempt to better hear what she is saying. Apparently, whatever she says is entertaining, as Joseph throws his head back and laughs, cocking a hip to one side as he nurses his glass of Madeira. Do his eyes sparkle like that when he talks to you?

You try to get a closer look at the unfamiliar girl, but Mr. Berland whisks you away, sashaying across the parquet floor. The two of you finish out the country dance, the young man thanking you softly as he bows. You mutter a brief acknowledgement to him, feeling a little guilty at your flippancy, but you are suddenly desperate to know what is being said between Mr. Mazzello and the girl in the corner. Turning to step quickly off the dance floor, you begin to walk towards the American gentleman, but someone catches you by the elbow, freezing you in place.

"I hope you have not forgotten that this next dance is mine, Miss Woolmere," Gwilym says lowly, his grip moving from your elbow to your hand.

"Oh, no, I..." you stammer, glancing over your shoulder to see Joseph offer his arm to the young woman, leading her to the other room with a smile. Losing sight of his fashionably-styled auburn hair makes your stomach twist up for a second, a pang of jealousy ripping through you like a bolt of lightning. Just a few minutes ago, he was calling you heaven-sent, but already he has eyes for another. Apparently, God has sent an excess of angels to Moorhead Park tonight.

"Miss Woolmere?" Gwilym asks, worry tinting his tone, "are you feeling alright? You look quite flushed."

You blink rapidly, trying to push the thought of Joseph from your mind. After all, why were you even thinking about him like that in the first place? You plaster a smile on your face and turn back to the tall man beside you. "Oh, I am fine, thank you, Mr. Lee. And no, of course I did not forget that I promised this dance to you."

Gwilym nods, his eyes still searching yours, before taking both your hands in his and leading you to stand parallel to Mr. Dempsey and his new partner, who both politely smile at the two of you before continuing their conversation. As the musicians shuffle their sheet music, Gwilym steps backwards to stand across from you, squeezing your hands lightly before releasing them. You flash him another fleeting, distracted smile, your eyes flitting back to the doorway to the adjacent dining room.

The violin strikes up a jaunty, elegant tune and the dance begins, the two lines of people bowing at each other before grasping hands as the sound of prancing shoes on hardwood accompanies the music. Since you are on the end, you and Gwilym are the first to sashay down the middle of the lines.

"Something is on your mind," he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.

"I am fine," you say flatly back, training your eyes on the wall behind him.

"No, you are not," he hisses back, squeezing your hands again, "I know you, (Y/N). So tell me."

"Your cousin was very complimentary of me whilst we danced," you murmur, "I did not know he felt any particular way about me."

Gwilym stiffens at your admittance, nearly missing the next step of the dance, but recovers smoothly, setting his mouth in a tight line.

"And do you...do you feel any...particular way about him?"

"I...I don't...think so," you say hesitantly, chewing on your lip, "I hardly know the man."

Your partner nods firmly, spinning you to the right before releasing your hands, the two of you parting ways and travelling down the back of the lines separately, weaving between the other dancers. When you finally reunite on the other end of the dance floor, Gwilym seems nervous, his eyes boring into yours and a question hovering on the tip of his tongue.

"Did you read my letter?"

"I have not," you admit, "Fitzgerald gave it to me this morning, but I have had scarcely one moment alone since then. I figured that if it was that important, you would tell me here at the ball."

He stares at you with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth silently, as if he wants to say something. Before he can, though, the next figure in the dance arrives, and you part ways, weaving back behind the other dancers to the end of the line again. As you skip past the dining room door, you catch a glimpse of Joseph, whose hand is resting on the arm of the same young woman from earlier. She is looking at him with a sweet simper as she picks a piece of lint from the lapel of his suit jacket. That twinge of jealousy from before returns with a sharp pinch, and you arrive back across from Gwilym with a sour look on your face.

"It seems as if Mr. Mazzello is prone to flightiness," you sigh out, gently jerking your head towards him to show Gwilym, who gazes over your shoulder coolly, "and to think, just minutes ago, he was showering me with praise."

"I do not understand why you pay him any heed at all, (Y/N)," Gwilym growls, "he is entirely unworthy of your time and affection."

"Why do you hate him so?" you ask, "the man appears to toy with me, it is true, but how has he slighted you? How has he earned your ire?"

Your partner does not respond, taking your hands and turning around in time to the song, his blue eyes trained on the floorboards.

"Surely your parents taught you to be gracious towards..."

"He is using you," Gwilym grits out, his icy gaze blazing.

"How so?" you spit back, matching his dangerous tone, "is it so improbable that a gentleman take a fancy to me?"

"Do not be intentionally difficult, of course I did not mean that," he growls again, "but surely you must be aware of his intentions with you."

"Enlighten me."

"Joseph is here to find himself a rich, land-holding wife so he can marry into English society and leave behind merchant-class mediocrity in New York. Any young woman with money and a familial title will do," he snaps, his voice dripping with condescension, "I didn’t think you would be the poor, vapid girl to fall into his trap."

His words are like a dagger plunging into your chest, the cruel tone twisting the knife deeper. You know Gwilym dislikes his cousin, but the accusation is too severe for him to lie about Joseph's intentions. But what stings more than the feeling of being used by Mr. Mazzello is Gwilym's words about you. Poor, vapid girl.

The dance is not yet over, but you cannot care less, wrestling your hands from Gwilym's grasp and pushing him away, tears beginning to well in your eyes. A few shocked gasps go up from the assembled guests watching, and Gwilym immediately moves towards you, his expression shocked and confused.

"(Y/N), I..."

"Don't," you whisper, your face crumpling as you back away, "Don't."

Before he can try to apologize or touch you again, you turn and stumble towards the door, narrowly missing crashing into one of the couples still dancing. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your father watching you with worry, helplessly trapped on the other side of the crowd. You run through the doorway to the dining room, trying in vain to conceal the tears streaming down your cheeks. Pushing around the guests, you fight your way towards the exit to the main hall, but someone grabs your hand before you can escape. Joseph is holding you firmly, the girl from earlier nowhere in sight as he stares at you imploringly.

"Miss Woolmere, what is the matter? Where are you going?"

Anger bubbles up from the pit of your stomach, fire surging through your veins as you harshly rip your hand from his grasp. Your gaze is deadly.

"Do not touch me, you snake."

He steps back from you with his mouth gaping, taken aback by your insult as you turn away and leave the room, running through the long entrance hall and past Reeves, who calls after you as you cross through the front door, gathering your skirts as you rush down the steps into the darkened drive. Mr. Leech, standing nearby with a torch, bows hastily, surprised by your flight from the house but determined to help.

"Miss Woolmere, shall I summon your carriage?"

"No," you shake your head, "Mother and Father are still inside."

"Are they not departing with you?" Allen asks, stepping closer and noticing your tears shining in the torchlight, "Are you alright, Miss Woolmere?"

"I have to go."

Allen nods, his eyes widening in worry. "Of course, Miss, if you'll just allow me to summon your carriage..."

"No!" you sob out, taking off through the trees and across the fields, leaving a worried Mr. Leech behind in the gravel. The grass brushes your ankles as you run, your shoes becoming mud-soaked and clinging burrs attaching to your hem. Your lungs are burning from the exertion and your face is soaked with tears, the gate of your property coming into view. Your hands tremble as you struggle to unlatch the gate and you shriek in frustration, shaking the wrought iron bars viciously. This dislodges the latch and you throw open the gate, not bothering to close it behind you as you sprint through the rose garden. The hem of your dress, already muddied and ruined, catches on a nearby bush, and you tear it away harshly, the delicate silk ripping as the gold thread unravels on the thorns.

You run up to the back door, pounding heavily on the wood as your chest heaves. A few moments later, a rather disgruntled looking Fitzgerald comes to the door, holding a tallow candle and squinting at you through the darkness.

"Miss (Y/N)? What are you doing here? Where are your parents?"

"Still at Moorhead Park," you sob out, pushing your way inside the house. Fitzgerald's eyes widen as he takes in your muddy, tear-stained appearance, and he opens his mouth to ask, but you snatch the candle from his grasp and run upstairs without another word, slamming your bedroom door before locking it. You collapse into your desk chair, setting the candle down on the edge and holding your head in your hands. Tears drip down onto the polished wood, glinting like pearls in the candlelight.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," you whisper angrily to yourself, "you truly are an idiot, (Y/N). Fuck."

Stupid for becoming fond of Mr. Mazzello. Stupid for allowing him to sense that, for allowing him to think he had a chance at manipulating you. Stupid for feeling jealous that that prick is trying his game on another equally stupid girl. Maybe Gwilym is right. Maybe you are a just a silly, vapid, gullible baby.

You shriek in anger again, desperate to get these feelings out. You sweep your arm along your desk top, pushing everything off towards the floor. Combs, pencils, ink, quills, papers, and books go flying, the glass inkwell shattering loudly as everything comes crashing down. The spilled black liquid begins to soak into the carpet and the paper materials, staining everything in its path.

"No, no, no, no," you whine, instantly full of regret. You scoop up the copy of Sense and Sensibility just as the ink touches it, the bottom corner of the letter poking out from between its pages turning a bluish-black.

The letter.

You pull the parchment from the book, unfolding it and dabbing the still-wet ink patch on the hem of your already-ruined dress. Luckily, it has only reached the signature at the bottom, not obscuring any of the words in the message. Taking a deep breath, you set the letter down to wipe your face harshly, rubbing away the tears there. Gwilym seemed nervous when you told him you had not read it, so it must be important to him. But if he thinks you're just a poor, vapid girl, then what can be in this letter other than more insults? Perhaps he wrote to you to tell you to stop visiting him altogether.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself and read the letter," you hiss to yourself, grabbing the parchment and smoothing the creases as you bring it closer to the candle's soft light to read.

Dear Miss Woolmere (Y/N),

I hope you do not find it impertinent of me, but I simply had to write to you, for fear of never being able to express my true feelings whilst in your presence. I thank you for granting me the permission to do so. Perhaps this makes me a coward, but I would rather be that than a man who never speaks his mind.

We have known each other for many years, and while I have long since known our parents' desire for us to marry, I have considered you simply a friend for most of that time. However, I can no longer deny the strong feelings I have for you. Last August, at the final ball of the summer at Moorhead Park, I found myself utterly enchanted by you, as if a veil had been lifted from my eyes. The image of you looking up at me while we danced was seared into my memory, and I thought of you nearly every night since you went back to London, wishing desperately to be near you again. But it is not simply your beauty that enraptures me. (Y/N), you are the most brilliant woman I have ever met, and I am eternally in awe of your mind. Your quick wit sparkles, and I love to hear you debate others and speak your mind, even to the ire of your mother...especially to the ire of your mother.

I will endeavor every day to make myself a man worthy of your esteem and devotion, if you in fact return my affections. However, if you do not feel as I do, I will resign myself to that fact willingly, and respect your decision. I cannot do anything now but wait patiently for your response, which I hope to receive this evening at the ball. Until then, I fear I shall be a nervous wreck indeed.

Your hopeful and affectionate friend,

Gwilym Lee

Re-reading the letter a second and third time does nothing to slow your pounding heart, but it does allow Gwilym's words to sink in. You drop the letter gently on the desk, leaning back in your chair to stare up at the ceiling. God, you have been a fool. A fool too blind to see that Gwilym's usual kindness and awkwardness has increased two-fold since the last summer. 　 The poor man probably thought you had read the letter when you gave away the waltz to Joseph, which explains why he was so upset. He thought you were actively choosing a practical stranger over him, a close friend who had just poured his heart out onto a single sheet of parchment in hopes that you would read it and reciprocate. His outburst against Joseph at the ball was not from a place of malice for either you or his auburn-haired cousin, but in fact from a place of protectiveness. Of love for you. 　 Love. You feel slightly faint at the thought of Gwilym really, truly loving you as he says he does. Perhaps he knows what that feeling is, but it is a strange concept to you. All of the novels you have read have extolled the magical, all-consuming emotion of romantic love, but you have only experienced it second-hand, through the eyes of characters who sit on library shelves, gathering dust. This is real, flesh-and-blood love staring you right in the face, holding its breath in anticipation. So what will your answer be? 　 Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and you still feel faint, but one thought comes through clearly: find Gwilym. The idea of him searching for you at the ball, distraught, makes your heart hurt. Pushing yourself up from the desk, you turn and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, wincing at your appearance. You look truly frightful, your ankles and hem caked in mud, a large tear up the side of your gown, and the feather in your hair listing aggressively to the left. Gently, you tear the feather from your curls and toss it onto the vanity, several strands of hair coming loose with it. There is no time to change or fix yourself any further, so with a panicked yet resolute nod, you refasten your muddied dancing shoes and take off down the stairs again. 　 Fitzgerald is standing at the front entrance lighting a lantern, undoubtedly expecting your parents to arrive home shortly, but upon seeing you bound down the stairs and barrel towards the front door, he straightens up, preparing to stop you. 　 "Miss, I truly must insist that you..." 　 “Sorry, Fitzgerald!" you yell, altering your course for the back door instead, "If my parents ask, tell them I have gone back to Moorhead Park!" 　 "Looking like that?" the butler shouts after you, scandalized. 　 "Yes!" 　 Flinging open the back door, you sprint through the back yard and down past the rose garden, the pink and yellow blooms illuminated by the cold moonlight. The gate, still ajar from your previous cross-estate sprint, comes quickly into view and you dash through, entering the Lee property again. Off in the distance, you can still see carriages parked on the drive, the torches held by the grooms attending the horses blazing through the darkness. The idea of entering through the front door, directly back into the fray of the ball, gives you pause. There will surely be an uproar if you return in your current state, and there would be no hope of having a private moment alone with Gwilym if your mother were to faint. Plus, the idea of encountering Mr. Mazzello again tonight makes you feel sick to your stomach. Perhaps the back door is your best option. You could ask a servant to fetch Mr. Lee for you, and the two of you could have a conversation away from the prying eyes and ears of the assembled guests. 　 You turn down the path to the left, skirting the trail up to the front door by heading down towards the lake, the surface shimmering silver. Weeping willow trees line the path down to the shore, their leafy tendrils blowing gently as the night breeze whirls across the hills of Moorhead Park. For the first time since leaving the ball, you pause and just breathe, taking deep inhales of the cool, calm summer air. Your mind stills, as tranquil as the surface of the lake, and you come to the realization that you truly have no plan. You are about to march up to the back door of the grandest manor house in the county, summon the young man who claims to love you, and say...what? What are you going to tell Gwilym? 　 Suddenly, a twig snaps behind you and you whip around, wide eyes searching the tree line. From behind a willow tree, a shadowy figure appears, cautiously approaching you. 　 "(Y/N)?" 　 The white suit is instantly recognizable as Gwilym steps out of the darkness and into the moonlight. His hair, which had been so elegantly coiffed at the ball, is now unruly and wild, undoubtedly from him anxiously running his fingers through it, a favorite nervous habit. The top buttons of his suit are undone, exposing some of his white linen undershirt and a small patch of his bare chest, covered in a sheen of sweat. He has been running too, it seems. 　 "I am so happy to have found you," he sighs out, "I have been searching high and low since you ran out of the ball." 　 "I ran home," you say, gesturing at your outfit, "if you cannot tell." 　 Gwilym nods, stepping closer to you. "It was a beautiful dress. I am sorry my pig-headed actions caused you to ruin it." 　 "Gwilym, it is not your..." 　 "Oh, but it is, (Y/N), it surely is," he says, running his ungloved hands through his hair, "because my insensitive and offensive words to you made you flee. You ran from me, and it is entirely my doing. I never should have called you vapid or spoken in such a condescending manner. You are not vapid. You are not stupid, I am. I am the most dumb-witted man alive on God's green Earth." You giggle, but Gwilym does not smile, worry and repentance still furrowing his brow. He reaches out and takes your hands in his, holding them firmly as he looks in your eyes. 　 "If you care for Joseph, it is not my place to interfere. It was wrong of me to plant the seed of doubt that I feel for him in your heart as well. The man is surely smitten with you, and I cannot blame him. If you return his affections, then I shan't interfere." 　 "Gwilym, I read..." you begin, but he cuts you off, continuing to blabber on as he squeezes your hands. 　 "I do not know how love works, (Y/N)," he says softly and earnestly, "and so if you happen to love my cousin, or any other man, I want you to know that I will support you, no matter what. You are a dear friend to me, and losing you over petty foolishness would..."

You lean forward suddenly and press your lips to his, stemming the flow of words from his mouth. Gwilym lets out a soft moan of surprise, his eyes closing as he pulls you closer, his hands staying chastely on yours. A delicious warmth spreads through your body as you kiss him, savoring the sensation of his soft lips on yours. After a few moments, you pull away, your face still inches from his. "What was...what was that for?" Gwilym breathes out, in utter disbelief of what has just transpired between the two of you. 　 "I read your letter," you reply. "So...so is that...is this your response?" 　 "I think so," you laugh breathlessly, shaking your head, "I don't know." 　 Gwilym furrows his brow in confusion. "You don't know?" 　 "I don't know," you say, squeezing his hands before letting go, "ask me in the morning." 　 "But, (Y/N)..." 　 "Ask me in the morning!" you shout gleefully, laughing giddily as you spin around, running back along the water's edge towards home. It feels as if you have wings on your ruined dance shoes as you fly through the fields, leaving Mr. Lee on the shore behind you, touching the pads of his fingertips to his lips in utter bewilderment. Your body feels like a bolt of lightning straight from the sky, crackling with potent, uncontrollable energy. Never in your twenty years of life have you felt so truly alive. As you approach your house, you see your father and Fitzgerald out in the back garden with lanterns, calling your name. You shout back to them, throwing yourself into your father's arms and planting an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek, shrieking with laughter at his confusion. 　 "(Y/N), my dear, you are hysterical!," he booms out, confused but smiling nonetheless, "Fitzgerald said you returned home a mess and then promptly sprinted from the house again like Atalanta with her hounds! Is everything all right?" 　 "Everything is more than all right, Father," you beam, "By God, everything is positively wonderful." 　 "But you and Mr. Lee had an argument at the ball." 　 "Everything is positively wonderful," you repeat, grinning at the two men before heading inside, "good night!" 　 "Good night, indeed," Fitzgerald says archly, chuckling to your father as you skip through the front door and upstairs. You can hear your mother snoring in her bedroom as you pass, and Margie pops her head out of your room, the candle in her hand illuminating the dark hallway as she beckons you inside. 　 "Thank goodness you are home safe, Miss," she sighs, "but look at the state of you! And your beautiful gown...ruined." 　 "I am sorry, Margie, I truly am," you nod, the adrenaline ebbing from your body, "it was a beautiful dress. But I had a wonderful night. That is what truly matters, right?" 　 Margie nods slowly, her knowing eyes searching your face as she unpins the pearl circlet from your hair. “What made the night so wonderful?”

“Oh, you know...dancing, sweets, elegant gentlemen...it was picture perfect.”

Margie gives you a soft yet scrutinizing look as she begins to undo your ruined gown, undoubtedly having heard a different story from your mother. “Well, I am glad to hear that, Miss.”

She slips the gown over your head and drops it to the floor, quickly unlacing your stays and slipping a fresh linen nightgown over your head before leaving you for the evening. You take the candle she left behind and walk to your desk, taking Gwilym’s letter and tucking it into the top drawer for safekeeping.

As you crawl between the bed sheets, you yawn, all the excitement and exertion of the evening finally catching up with you. Within moments of your head hitting the pillow, your eyes close and you begin to drift off, visions of Gwilym’s icy blue eyes and warm pink lips lulling you into a peaceful, blissful sleep.

~~~~~~~~~

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chocojjk · 6 years ago

Text

Eggs

summary: badboy! changbin if you squint

words: 7k

warnings: one mention of death by illness

a/n: this took way too long cause i got so lazy lmfao, slide into my inbox with prompts cause idk what to write after this

not edited per usual, im lazy :(((

you and changbin lived in different worlds

changbin has always been the schools most notorious bad boy

along with his group, 3racha

he was the typical bad boy -- gets into fights, wears leather, barely shows up to class, etc.

after watching countless of rom-coms, you and i, reader, should know that bad boys like to keep to themselves

and they won't bother you unless you cross their territory, not at all different from changbin

someone bullies one of his friends???

you might as well run now , because he will be coming for your ass

he catches you talking shit?

you should probably say goodbye to your mouth and have a doctors appointment ready

the point im trying to make is that seo changbin does not take shit from anyone

which doesn't really matter at this point because everyone has learned to fear him

on the other hand, you're, what they say is a “good girl”

too caught up with your books and your grades, in the library 24/7, worrying too much about the future you envision

you stayed away from drama as much as possible, happy with the 2-3 friends that you have

and,,,

well,,,

you probably saw this coming,, but just in case you didnt, ill say it

your two different worlds are about to collide

---------------

youve been searching for a little over 20 minutes to where he could be when you finally spotted him at the table all way in the back of the library

you let out the deepest sigh, you shouldve figured he would choose that table jfc

‘he really is sticking to his reputation’ you think to yourself as you made your way over to him

“hi, im y/n, i'm your tutor,” you say, giving him a soft smile

changbin doesn't even bother to reply to you as he got up and left

you were left standing there like,,,

what the fuck just happened ??

before you finally snapped out of your confused trance and chased after him

catching up to him you grab his arm, putting a complete halt to his movement

and suddenly the library was even quieter than it should be

every single eye in the room focused on the interaction that lies in front of them

the notorious bad boy and the goody two shoes,,, how incredibly cliche

he looks at you, his eyes dark and unreadable

the expression on his face was emotionless yet it felt like he was crushing you under his stare

finally noticing that your hand was still gripped around his arm, you quickly let go, letting out a small “ehem”

the tension in the air was thick, it felt like someone just put a dark cloud above your head and you couldn’t blow it away

god damn this was awkward

not even the good awkward where you can laugh about it later, this is the kind of awkward situation that hits you in the middle of the night and suddenly you're just cringing at every bad thing you have done in the past

“uhm, im suppose to tutor you,” you try to say confidently as soon as you found your voice, but really it was barely above a whisper

“maybe show up on time,” he says, his voice as dark and as strong as his aura

and with one final look at you, he walked out of there

you didnt bother anymore, you knew you were at fault

‘we’ll try again tomorrow,’ you think to yourself before your best friend, hyunjin walked up to you, pulling you outside the library

“dude are you okay?”

“uhmm, why wouldn’t i be?”

“i just saw you talking to changbin”

“ok and ?”

“he’s bad news y/n,” your best friend says, warning you

“ i dont really have a choice hyunjin” you reply

you think back to 3 days ago when you were called to the principal's office

not gonna lie, you were shaking in your boots,, only bad kids get randomly sent to the principal's office

as you entered the room, Mrs. Seo was already waiting for you behind her desk

“hi ms. l/n, i dont think weve formally met,” she says, reaching out to shake your hand

“ its nice to meet you”

“ please, sit down, make yourself comfortable,” she continued, pointing to the seat right in front of her

sensing your nervousness she quickly added a, “don't worry, you're not in trouble”

phew

your brain was starting to hurt from trying to rack what you must have done wrong to be seated in the big office

“ why am i here then if you don't mind me asking?”

“ ah yes, i need you to tutor my son”

,,,,,

(◎_◎;)

,,,

“umm, why me?”

“you're top 1 in the class, is there anyone better than you to do it?”

well,,, she wasn't wrong

you mentally pat yourself at the back for this, happy that your efforts were being noticed

“don't worry ms. l/n, if you succeed, i’ll make sure you get into any college that you desire “

‘pshhhh, im top 1 ms seo, i can do that on my own’ you think to yourself

“....and fully paid for.”

well, shit , how can you say no to that offer

its literally free education right in your fingertips

what's the catch??

“ you can do that?” you ask

“ of course. i know very important people. so what do you say?”

and after a few minutes of contemplating within yourself, you finally agreed

“ also, while you're at it, i want you to change my son's reputation.”

and there it is

“ i'm sorry?” you reply,, maybe you just misheard the fact that she literally asked you to change her son

“ i don't just want you to tutor him in english, i want you to make him a better person.”

“how do you expect me to do that?”

“be his friend. teach him the ways of life, i'm not always gonna be around to get him out of trouble. You're a smart girl ms. l/n you'll figure it out.”

without giving you a final say, she ushered you out of there but not before she added

“ one last thing ms. l/n, dont tell anyone about this.”

the way she said it was so scary, and its like a spell was casted on you and you could only utter out an

“ of course mam”

i guess from her standpoint, she made sense

“ i just dont understand why Mrs. Seo chose you out of all the people”

“ we’ve already gon over this hyunjin”

“ yeah yeah, its cause youre the smartest of the class-”

hyunjin continues to talk however you’ve tuned him out as your eyes went to focus on changbin, himself

greeting the rest of his friends, an actual smile on his face, much different from the changbin you encountered a couple minutes ago

he gets up on his motorcycle and was about ready to put his helmet on when he felt someone staring at him ( i told yall, tYpiCAl bad boy )

he whips his head around in quick search for the culprit

and for the second time that day, you found yourself looking in the dark brown eyes of the the one and only, seo changbin

his smile quickly disappearing once he found your eyes

putting on his helmet whilst still maintaining the eye contact, he quickly drove away and you can't help but continue to just watch his figure retreat to the size of a dot until he was completely away from your line of vision

the next day - friday

you were in the library, seated in the table changbin used the day before

unlike yesterday, you were there dummy early

exactly 30 minutes before the actual tutoring session

he wasn't going to get away this time

finally , the chair across from you gets occupied, a backpack loudly flopping its way unto the table

he doesn't say a word,

he doesn't even look at you

he just sits there, staring at the table between you guys

“uhm, i think we got on the wrong foot yesterday, im y/n”

you say, a wide smile on your face, trying to change the atmosphere

he scoffs at this

‘omyfuckinggod who does he think he is’

‘im gonna fucking murder this kid’

‘his mom was right when he said he needed to change’

as much as you wanted to just punch him in the face, you plastered a small smile on your face instead

“should we start?” you continue

“i guess”

for the next hour, you learn that changbin doesn’t even need tutoring

he was definitely smarter than he lead on

he knew the answer to every single question you asked and didnt even seem like he was trying

“uhmm, changbin can i ask you something?”

he just nods at you, urging you to go on

“are you failing your class on purpose?”

and with that he stands up, giving you a small smirk, “i think this session is over,”

“i-okay- i-i’ll see you on monday!” you say even though he was already a good 5 feet away from you

-----------

as you laid in your bed that night, you wondered why the boy chose to fail his class

but no matter what scenario you could think of, you just cant understand it

is this what privileged people do ?

they know that they can get away with anything so they dont even try ?

‘aish, why am i thinking about him,’

‘y/n stop it’

‘ahhhhh’

you tried forcing yourself to sleep, to completely shut off all thoughts

but damn that stupid smirk on his face just keeps reappearing

and with that you slapped your pillow unto your face, not at all excited for the days to come

saturday night - 9 pm

to be honest, you weren't the type to go out on a saturday night

however you stayed in bed the whole day binging your netflix shows that you completely forgot to run your errands

so now you're here, at the local supermarket, buying your weekly groceries

you may be asking why can't your parents just do it?

well,,,

you only live with your mom, and she was very busy running the night shift at the hospital + picking up extra shifts

so she's really never home

and when she is, she crashes right to sleep, exhausted from work

so ever since two years ago, when you turned 16, this has been the life that you were used to

you weren't complaining of course, she was only working to provide for you and your future

the least you could do is help around the house

after a good 7 minutes, you finally gathered everything that you needed

eggs, check

bread, check

peanut butter, check

a bag of hot cheetos,,,, check check and check

you nodded, proud of yourself for finishing it so fast and made your way to your car until a loud crash stops you from doing so

the next thing you know, you were being dragged into the alleyway

“1!!!!1111! I- get off of me,” you say thrashing and kicking, trying to get away

‘oh god, im gonna die tonight,’

‘if there is a god out there,, pls,,, not tonight’

‘i haven't finished my netflix series yet,, plssss’

however your thoughts were cut short when your captor whispered, “shhh, its changbin”

changbin??

chaNgbIN???

chANGBIN???

he finally turns you around, making you face him

“play along if you don't want to get hurt,”

and in one quick motion, his lips were on yours,,,

seo changbin was kissing you

your eyes open, stunned at what was happening

and then you noticed it...5 men walking around the area

and hoping that you've watched the right dramas, you pieced together what you think is happening

leading you to closing your eyes and kissing him back

which honestly caught changbin off guard, “good girls” dont react this way???

but he’d never let you know that, as he pulled you closer to him,

his arms snaking around your waist

your hands going around his neck, the grocery bag being forgotten

yall were full on making out now

too caught up with each other’s taste to even notice the 5 guys leaving

(((im really bad at writing these kinds of scenes jfc, this sounds awkward as hell pls just picture it)))

until finally after like 23823 years, you pulled away, trying to catch your breath

damn, that kiss was good

probably the best one you’ve ever had

what????

just cause you're a goody-two-shoes doesn't mean you haven't been kissed before okay,,, were not going THAT cliche

he slowly lets go of you, his eyes darting to the grocery bag on the ground

“your eggs are broken,” he says

“m-my eggs?”, you reply, still on cloud nine,

following his gaze, you snapped out of your daze

“oh, r-right, my eggs,” you say softly, a frown making its way upon your face

changbin grabs your hand, pulling you towards the grocery store

“what are you doing?”

as usual, he doesn’t reply

honestly, you should be used to this by now

he dashes around the supermarket

you were right behind him, trying to keep up with his fast paced speed

finally, he gets to his location, the egg aisle

“which one do you want?”

“what?”

“eggs, which one?” he replies

“uhm, you don't have to, i can ju-”

“i'm not doing this for you,” he replies, cutting you off

you looked at him , not knowing what he meant

‘if he wasn't doing it for me then who the fuck is he buying these eggs for, i don't see anyone else here’

sensing your dumbness he grabbed a carton of the most expensive eggs and made his way to the cashier, pulling you along

and you don't know why, or what has gotten into you, but all you could do was watch and follow

“here. were even now.” he says, before walking away, leaving you in front of the grocery store, holding a carton of eggs

monday

and now we’re back to the start of the week

which means another week of tutoring

as you waited for changbin to show up at the usual spot, you can’t help but think back to two nights ago

the feeling of his lips against yours all a distant memory yet at the same time, one that you could still remember clearly

“hey,” changbin says, breaking you out of your thoughts

“hi?” you reply, confused as to why he even greeted you in the first place

you guys do the usual, read a couple of flash cards, learn new words blah blah blah and all that boring crap that you learn in a high school English class

at one point you guys find yourself just sat in silence, and you can’t help but ask the question that’s been on your mind since Saturday night

“so who were those guys?”

“doesn’t concern you”

“uhm, the fact that you had your tongue down my mouth says otherwise,”

changbin was shocked, he wasn’t used to people responding to him the way you just did

don’t you know who he is???

he gives you one of his signature smirks, regaining his composure

“you liked my tongue being down your throat,” he says teasingly

o_O

＜(。_。)＞

excuse me what

is he flirting with you ??

what’s happening ??

“who said I did?” you say mimicking his tone, not allowing yourself to back down of this conversation

after Saturday night you told yourself that you were never going to just watch and follow

if you didn’t want the damn egg, you should’ve said something, you were so disappointed in yourself

you had your own brain, you can make your own decisions

besides you were here to be in control over him, not the other way around

“oh cmon, you’re really gonna try to refute it??” he says, the stupid smirk still evident on his stupid face

god, how you wish you could just smack it off

with your mouth

wait, who said that???

“you enjoyed it just as much as I did,” you say, knowing that if you answer then he would stop

and you were right, he completely shut his mouth and let the silence envelop you once again

“they were kids from another school,”

you look up at him, shocked that he actually answered

“why were they looking for you?”

“I may have keyed their car,” he says chuckling

“Because?”

“Isn’t that enough questions y/n?”

y/n

that was the first time he’s ever said your name

and you weren’t gonna lie, you liked how it sounded

“sorry”

“it’s fine”

“i don’t want to question it but why are you being so nice?”

“you helped me out without questioning me which means you trust me. im just returning the favor.”

“so, what im hearing is , you trust me?”

<(￣︶￣)>

“don’t make me have to say it out loud”

trust

you don’t know how you did it so quickly,

maybe the gods are at your side, but you finally got thE seo changbin to trust you

2 weeks later

you’ve been tutoring changbin just the same

same time

same table

same library

however, so much has changed

mostly the dynamic of your guys’ relationship

it was like he was a totally different person

like I said before, changbin was smart

but in these last couple of days, you realized just how smart he actually was,

he can honestly probably give you a run for your money

and because of this, your past tutoring sessions have ended up with you guys just laughing and joking around

weird, right ?

changbin and laughing ?

who would’ve thought ??

even onlookers were surprised

and everytime changbin laughed at one of your guys’ silly antics, you swear you can hear a pin drop

the whole room just becomes silent

at first, it bothered you how people were just listening in to your conversation, obviously judging the scene

but as the days went by and it seemed that changbin could care less, you started not caring either

and if you were being completely honest, you looked forward to spending time with him

when changbin was with you, it was just you and changbin, nothing else

he somehow manages to make you forget about reality

“lets ditch tutoring sessions today,” he says as soon as he took the seat next to you

“changbin, no”

“c’mon y/n, live a little”

“excuse you! I do have a life!”

“making out with your homework and watching Netflix shows 24/7 is not a life”

“okAy, now you’re just being mean,” you say, pouting at him

“im not being mean, I’m being honest,”

“yeAH and?? no one asked for your honesty,”

changbin laughs at this

lately he found himself laughing more

and for once, he didn’t mind it

you were doing something to him

and he liked it

“cmon, I’m not taking no for an answer,” he says, packing up your things

you sigh in defeat

you know that once changbin sets his mind to something, there's no changing it

so here you are, standing in front of an abandoned music building

“uhhhh, what are we doing here?”

“have you ever trespassed before?” he replies, a smug smile on his face

“nu-uh nope, no way in hell changbin!” you say, your attempt to stop this from happening

however, changbin was already making his way towards the door, completely breaking the lock

aannnndd

he was inside

“c’mon y/n,” he says reaching out his hand to yours

even though all you need to do is take two steps forward and you're officially a criminal

you were scared shitless

what happens if you get caught omg

almost like he was reading your mind, he quickly says, “y/n, ive been here over a million times and ive never gotten caught,”

“i dont know changbin”

“hm, thats too bad, i wanted to share a secret with you,” he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice before he stepped out of the building and made his way towards his motorcycle

but of course,,,

you being a nosy bitch

“wait,”

“yes?”

“lets go inside”

you guys enter the building, the rooms getting darker and darker the deeper you go (this building is huge okAY)

if you weren't shitting your pants before, you definitely are now

an abandoned building???

and its dark???

youve seen this in every scary movie out there

it never goes well

“uhm changbin,” you whisper, as you guys continue to walk

“hm”

“i-um can i hold your hand? im scared and - actually you know what its fine its dumb you dont hav-”

but before you can even finish your sentence, his hand were already laced around yours, providing you the comfort and security that you were looking for

you shut your mouth after that, just letting changbin lead the way

passing by so many rooms, each one looking the same as the other, it was starting to feel like a maze

however , changbin seemed to know exactly where to go

‘I guess he has been here over a million times’ you thought to yourself

“were here,” he says, opening the door and letting go of your hands as he reached out for the lights

not gonna lie, you were missing the way his hand felt around yours but thats not the time to think about that

“a music room?” you asked, clearly puzzled

“yeah, you might not know this about me but i can spit barsss,” he says, letting out chuckle

“eyE”

“you dont believe me huh”

“absolutely not”

“ok, watch this”

and with that he entered the recording booth, of course not after he pressed a bunch of buttons

honestly , you have no idea what he’s doing

but as soon as he put the headphones on

*cue any 3racha song because im too indecisive to choose one*

he was,,

indeed,,,

spitting bars

you could not believe your ears

who the fuck is this

you stood there, stunned at the fact the he was rapping about real shit and not something stupid and meaningless (rip wow, she is meaNinGFUL to me okAY)

after he finished rapping, the room was absolute silent

changbin felt dumb, he thought you were gonna praise him but there you were not uttering a single word,

he need you to say something ,anything,, hell, you can even laugh

he’d prefer anything over the silence

he’s literally the ‘i just showed u my dick pls respond’ meme but its like ‘i showed u my talent pls validate me’

avoiding to make eye contact with you, he walks out of the recording booth

sitting on the couch against the wall, he finally breaks the silence

“so yeah, thats a song my friends and i wrote, its stupid-”

“its not stupid.” you say quickly

“oh?”

“since when where you into this?” you ask, curiosity filling your eyes, taking the seat right next to him

“what do you mean? music?? everyone’s into music y/n” changbin retorts, not wanting to go into detail

“hhhh, you know what i mean changbin,”

changbin doesnt know why

but he wanted to share this side of him with you

maybe because you were the first person that he has ever allowed himself to be close with

or maybe it was because you stuck around him for this long, no one, besides chan and jisung were able to do that

whatever it was, he wants to keep you by his side

he figured that showing you his true self would do just that

so after having a battle with his inner thoughts, he finally says

“my dad was really into this stuff, he taught me everything i know,” changbin beamed

“oh! thats really cool, do you still make music with him?” you say, genuinely interested, youve never really heard about his dad before

“uhmm, hes not really around for me to do that,”

aaaannd,,, thats why,, god reader smh

“oh, im sorry,” you say softly, mentally slapping yourself

“no its okay, you didnt know….he passed away when i was 11”

“what happened?,,,, y-you dont have to tell me if you dont want to,” you quickly added

“I want to,” changbin says, reassuring you

“he just,,, he just died in his sleep, apparently it was a stroke,” sighing, he looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back his tears

“you must miss him,” you say, your voice still soft

for the first time since youve met changbin, he resembled a piece of glass

so fragile

he was giving you a piece of him, letting you see clearly a part of who he was

and all you wanna do is make sure that you won’t break that piece

“he built this studio...wanted to start his own music company,” he continued as you sat there just listening to him

“my mom hates it though, she stopped funding this place as soon as she can,”

the mention of his mom suddenly brought you back to the deal that you have made 2 weeks ago

and god, you felt guilty

you were here, trying to change him, when nothing should be changed

sure seo changbin had a bad reputation but he is not bad

he’s just protective is all

to be honest, he was one of the kindest, gentlest soul you have met

“i promised myself that i would continue our dream, for him and me, but mostly for him,”

“i-is that why youre failing your classes?” you ask, everything finally piecing together

“huh?”

“you dont care about school because you already know what you want to do...where you want to be”

“hm, you truly are a smart girl y/n,” he says before nodding and flashing you a smile

those words

so similar to the ones his mom has given you

but this time you weren't in the mood to pat yourself in the back

because shit, this is thE dumbest thing you've ever done in your life

after hearing this, you made up your mind, you werent gonna partake in this deal anymore

if you were really as smart as everyone says, you can get into the school you want without any problem

sure it won't be free, but your mom aint working her ass off during her nightly shifts for nothing

and so, right when you go to school tomorrow, you were determined to end it

you’d still tutor changbin, you just won't accept any of the perks that came along with it

“thank you for sharing this with me,” you say genuinely, a smile creeping unto your face

“thank you for caring enough to listen,” changbin replies, his smile getting wider

and then it hits you,

“wait, so you mean to tell me that this is YOUR studio all along??”

and at this changbin lets out the loudest laugh

and you can't help but mirror his actions

1 week later

oof, that time jump, i thought you were gonna end it the next day reader

welp,,

you work hard, but somehow satan, aka the author, works harder

Mrs. Seo had to leave for two weeks, attending board meetings around the country, and whatever principals do,,, i'm too lazy to research what they actually do

╥﹏╥

and so you spent another week, with seo changbin by your side

one week down, another to go

and when that day comes, you can finally freely hang out with him without all the guilt eating you up

this week you guys even hung out outside of the library

you’ve been with him so much, even your friends have started to notice it

“y/n, are you coming with us to the movies,” felix asks

“oh,, umm sorry guys, i cant,”

“who else are you gonna be with? i thought we were your only friends,” minho pointed out, a pout on his face

“with changbin of course,” hyunjin hissed, obviously upset that you have been pushing them to the side

“ i can hang out with anyone that i want,” you argued, really not having any of his attitude

“ you shouldnt hang out with people like him,” hyunjin retorted

you scoffed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i mean blink once if youre being held captive” hyunjin joked, as the rest of the table snickered

however, you didn't find it funny,

who were they to talk about changbin like that??

they didnt even know him

and so you stood up, leaving all your friends calling out for you

-------------

walking to the table, you flopped down on your chair, slamming your backpack on the floor

“what's got you in such a bad mood?” changbin asks

“nothing,” you huffed, getting your materials out of your backpack

you didn't want to tell changbin that your best friends think hes the devil himself and didn't want you around him

meanwhile , changbin was annoyed

it seems like he's shared so much with you since the music room yet he still barely knows anything about you

he wondered that maybe you didn't want to be in his life the way he wanted to be in yours

but fuck it, he’s just gonna spend the time he has with you enjoying it rather than filling his mind with negative thoughts

but damn, you're frown was really bothering him

“y/n,” he says, calling out to you

no response

“y/n,” he continues, poking you on the elbow

still no response

“y/n”

You sigh, looking up at him, an emotionless expression on your face, you responded with a strong, “what.”

*insert changbin doing aegyo*

and with that , you lost it

you were an absolute madman

you never expected that the one and only seo changbin

notorious badboy

would ever do aegyo

all because you had a stupid frown on yourself

you laughed so loud

changbin doing the same as soon as your melodic laugh hit his ears

which resulted to you guys being kicked out of the library

-------------

“ i cant believe you got me kicked out of my favorite place,” you say, seated in a booth inside the ice cream parlor near your guys’ school

another one of changbins ideas

“ hey its not my fault you laugh like a hyena!” he says smiling before you threw a curled up paper tissue at his face

a couple of seconds later, after your laughter has died down

“ so, you want to tell me now why you were in such a sour mood?”

you knew that if you werent gonna tell him now that would still end up finding out about it from someone else

and so you came clean

“ its just my friends,,,, they dont think youre a good influence, wants me to stop hanging out with you” you say

“ oh,”

“ but dont worry!, i didnt listen to them, i actually told them off,” you confessed

“ why didnt you listen to them? theyve been your friends longer than youve known me?” he asks

“ because they dont know you” you reply, “and im sure if they did, they would also be friends with you”

as much as he appreciated the way you stood up for him, he didnt want you going through all that trouble

‘god, what did he even do to deserve an angel like you,’ changbin thinks to himself

“ don't tell them off next time,” he grunted

“ wh-what?”

“ everything they say about me is true”

“ changbin, no its not”

“ honestly y/n it doesnt bother me so dont let it bother you”

“ why doesnt it bother you?” you ask, wanting to know the reason

“ because its high school. after this, literally no one would care anymore. and then real life starts, people move on and worry about bigger things, things that actually matter more than the status quo. let them say what they say.”

and just like every other time, changbin has left you stunned

the arrival of Ms. Seo - tuesday

a week has passed since the ice cream parlor

and Ms. Seo was back in town

this was it

the day you finally put a halt to it

and you were beyond ready

you haven't seen changbin all day

you figured that since his mom was back then he was also back to avoiding the school like it was a plague

you entered Ms. Seos room, determined

“Ms. Seo -”

She puts a hand up to her lips, signaling you to be quiet

‘bitch omygod i literally cant keep doing this any longer,’

‘its already been over a month’

so you ignored her warning

“im not doing this deal anymore. I’ll still tutor changbin but I won’t change him,,,, and you can keep your stupid money,” you let out, releasing all the bottled up emotions

“is that all,”she replies

“yes”

“then you may leave”

what???

it was that easy????

you thought she was gonna stop you, force you to hold your end of the bargain

if you knew it would’ve been this easy then you wouldn’t have worried over it so much

but you don’t know a lot of things

and you certainly didnt know that changbin was on the other line

later that day

you’re seated in the library

usual place, usual time, waiting for the one and only seo changbin, yet he never showed

you didn’t think much of it

‘maybe he just forgot’ you tell yourself

the next day - wednesday

here you were again, waiting for him

still nothing

you try and think of reasons why he wouldn’t show up two days in a row and can really only think of one - maybe his mom told him that he didn’t need tutoring anymore?

but surely, he would tell you

right ???

sure you guys started off on the wrong foot but you were friends now

at least you thought so

you decided to just give him the benefit of the doubt

‘maybe he’s just busy’

2 days later - friday

you’ve tried everything you can do to get a hold of changbin

all your calls went straight to voicemail

texts were left on delivered

you didn’t even see him around school anymore

it was like your worlds never collided and he was never a part of yours

you were starting to get worried, what if he got himself into trouble

“look who decided to show her face,” hyunjin comments as you took the seat next to him

ever since the day you guys had your argument, you have never been able to talk to him about it

“im not in the mood,” you reply,

hyunjin sensing that you were exhausted,

“hey,” he says softly, “what’s wrong?”

“nothing”

“y/n please, we’ve been friends for over 3 years, you don’t need to lie to me”

“aren’t you mad at me?”

“no. im upset that you’ve been pushing us to the side for your little boy toy but im not mad,” he says giving you a soft smile

hhhhh, it was times like these you remember why he was your best friend

hyunjin was just so thoughtful, so caring

you return the smile he gave you as you pulled him in for a tight hug

“I’m sorry hyunjin”

“it’s okay, im sorry too, now tell me what’s wrong?”

“it’s just changbin-“

“I swear to god, if he even laid a finger on you he’s a dead man”

“no!” you say quickly putting an end to his assumption

“so what happened?” he asks, eyebrows going up in sheer curiosity

and then you told him

you told him about the deal with Ms. seo

about how your relationship with changbin changed along the way

how you ended the deal

and now we’re back to changbin and ignoring you

“damn, well have you tried actually going to him?”

“i wouldnt even know where -”

and then it hits you

the abandoned music building

“hyunjin, youre a genius!!!,” you say excitedly

“thanks, we been knew”

“ i have to go ill explain later, bye!!” you say, dashing out of there as fast as you could and made your way to the abandoned building

taking the bus there gave you time to reflect on everything that has happened this past couple month

how much your life has changed since changbin entered it

he pushed you to take risks, to live out of your comfort zone, to not care about other people’s opinions

he made you feel free

and most importantly, he made you happy

the good girl has fallen for the bad boy, i told yall this was gonna be cliche right?

continuing on

just as you expected, the door was open

the dark didnt even bother you anymore, the only thing in your mind was changbin

oh,, where could he be??

could you ever find your way into this maze of a building and retrace the steps that he took when he was by your side?

as you got deeper and deeper into the building, you feel yourself start to get lost

‘fuck i already saw this door’

‘omg y/n did you really just walk in a circle’

and then you hear it

music, singing

your nightingale

you walk faster, desperate to get to the voice

and here you are now, face to face with the one and only, seo changbin

he stops singing as soon as he saw you walk in

“hey,” you whisper out yet he continued to just stand there, not uttering a single word

“your voice is really pretty, i didnt know you could sing!-”

“what do you want?” his voice, dark and firm just like the day you first met him

This caught you off guard

Did you do something wrong?

“Did i do something wrong?” you say, not aware that you have said your thoughts out loud

changbin chuckles but it was so uninviting, like he was taunting you

“ please, drop the act”

?????

“what?” you reply, completely confused

“ you dont like me ”

“ changbin, what?”

“ you're just like everyone else”

“ changbin i really dont understand pl-”

“ i shouldn't have trusted you.”

“ what?!??, no changbin, you can trust me! just tell me whats wrong!”

all the while, you guys were still talking with a glass between the two of you

ironic, since you felt like a wall has been planted around changbin and you cant reach him

“ you think i should change”

“ no”

“ what do you mean no? I heard you y/n! I heard what you told my mom, i heard about the stupid deal, the stupid money!”

(⊙…⊙,)

“ changbin, let me explain”

“ i know im known as the bad boy y/n, but you… youre even worse than me”

“ changbin.”

“ youre a monster”

and with hearing those words, the tears that you have been so desperately trying to keep just bursted out like a waterfall

changbin too, has let out his tears

and all we got now are two broken people who can clearly see each other yet are still on opposite sides of the glass

“ you're just like everyone out there that you have resented, you judged me by other people’s words, i thought- i thought that i can finally found someone i could open up to but you never even gave me chance from the beginning”

you let him talk without interrupting him

you deserved the ache you were feeling in your heart

everything he said was true

and with that he breaks down, straight to the floor, back against the wall, hugging his knees

and all you could do was watch, until you couldn't take it anymore

you finally entered the recording booth , taking a seat on the floor right next to him, mimicking his broken figure

“im sorry”

silence

you looked up at the ceiling as you sighed

he deserves an explanation

“ yes, i took the deal, but that's because i thought i needed it changbin. I may be smart, but financially my family isn't doing well. my mom already works extra shifts but it still won't be enough. my dad isnt even in the picture, i dont know where the hell he is”

and with this, changbins head slowly perks up, looking at you with his glass-like eyes, as you continued to stare at the ceiling

you were finally opening up to him

just like how he has been doing

“ i took the deal because, you’re right, i judged you, i was stupid and i never expected us to actually be friends, clearly i was wrong. you have taught me so much. you have pushed me into doing things i never thought i could do. you made me see the world in a different way.”

he’s still just listening to you when you finally took your eyes away from the ceiling and faced him

“ i understand if you dont want to see me anymore but i cant leave you knowing that i never got to say this,” you continue, afraid of the results that were about to come

“ what else are you hiding from me?” he says, but this time, he says it softly, the furious changbin that you have encountered just minutes ago was completely gone

“ i think im in love with you,” you say, quickly looking down, embarrassed at your confession

“ y/n look at me,”

“ i dont want to”

“ why?”

“ i know you're gonna break my heart”

“ you broke mine first,” and with that he lifted your chin up, making you look him straight into his eyes before kissing you

this kiss was different from your first one

it was slow but passionate, filled with all of the unsaid words between the two of you

your guys lips both slightly chapped from all the crying

yet his lips still felt like the softest pair against yours

pulling away, changbin leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed

yours were open though, taking the sight all in before you pulled away, wiping away his left over tears

“ god, were a mess,” he finally says out loud, before he pulled you in a tight hug

“ im sorry,” you say again

“ i’ll forgive you if you promise to continue tutoring me?”

“ what ?”

“ continue the deal, get the money”

“ changbin, i really don't want to do that”

“ i know you dont. but we have to finesse my mom somehow,” he says, bursting into a smile, clearly joking

…

“eYE,,, i cannot believe you right now! You can't be serious!”

“ but i am. go back into her office tell her you’ll continue it and get the money for your education.”

“changbin! stop joking! I already feel bad about it!”

“Okay fine i just like it when you tutor me okay, its kinda sexy” he says

playfully slapping him, you guys laugh, the tension in the air finally gone

“ you know if you didnt buy me those eggs, we wouldnt be here by now,” you say, a small smile on your face

“ hmm, and why?”

“ because those eggs were the first time i realized that the most notorious bad boy, the one and only Seo Changbin, can also be soft,”

“ do not use my name and soft in the same sentence ever again,”

“ what are you gonna do about it?” you reply, taunting him

and so

he pulled you into another kiss

and another

until a series of laughter coming from the both of you interrupted it

“im glad i bought you those eggs”

hhhhhhh this ending is so rushed and so bad i just didnt wanna leave it unfinished

ALSO IM SEEING STRAY KIDS BITCHES!!!!!,,,,,, MY SEAT HELLA FAR BUTS ITS OKAY BECAUSE ILL STILL BE THERE ╭(′▽`)╭(′▽`)╯

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