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Fic Rec Library (Stories I've enjoyed)

A way to keep em all organized (all posts are reblogs)

TXT

Soobin II Yeonjun II Beomgyu II Taehyun II HueningKai

Stray Kids

Chan II Changbin

Ateez

Seonghwa

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This is honestly one of the most mouth watering fics I've ever read,,, Changbinb in this is just so damn hot and the tension!!! The tension is everything, it literally made me weak in the knees

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 3

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Hate Sex - Changbin

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Why is he always there? And why is he always using the equipment you need? How is it Seo Changbin knows exactly when to hog everything you need at the gym? It’s time to piss him off as much as he pisses you off.

————————————————————

It’s a 24 hour gym. That’s why you joined. 

There’s nothing worse than dragging yourself to the gym only to find every machine that you want or need to use is taken. 

But since this one is open 24 hours a day, you can get there at ungodly hours of the morning and everything should be open for use, right?

Wrong. 

He is always there. The bane of your existence: Seo Changbin. 

You swear this man practically lives at the gym. 

If you show up after dinner, he shows up after dinner. If you park your car in the lot at noon, you best believe his sleek black sports car is already there. When you walk in around breakfast, there he is– always hogging the single working foldable weight bench. 

There were other weight benches in the gym, he just chose to always use that one. 

And he does even use it properly! He doesn’t fold it up for back support, no, he uses it as a regular bench. 

“Do you mind using one of the other benches so I can have this one?” You tried asking him once. 

Changbin huffed and moved his headphone off one ear, balancing the 50 pound weight on his thigh. “What?”

“Can I use this bench please? I can bring one of the others over for you.”

“Can’t you see it’s being used?”

“Yeah, but it’s the only folding one that works and you don’t even need it like that.”

“I might.”

You rolled your eyes, “Do you really?”

“Maybe. Now, if you don’t mind.”

Without waiting for an answer, he pulled his headphones back on and looked away from you and at his form in the mirror. 

You groaned and walked away.

Ever since that day, you know he’s been going out of his way to get that bench whenever he can. 

His ass is always firmly planted on that weight bench. His perfectly round, muscular ass. 

It infuriates you to no end. 

Each time you look around for the bench and make eye contact with him, the only response Changbin has is a dark smirk. 

Slowly but surely, it became more than just the folding bench. 

The tricep strap for the cable machine was never there when you needed it. Changbin was using it. 

Where’s the ab roller? Changbin has it in front of him. 

The fifteen pound kettle bell? In fucking Seo Changbin’s hands. 

It’s like he has your routine memorized.

Your rage meter can only fill up so much before it bubbles over like a volcano erupting. 

Were you being ridiculous now? Perhaps. 

But at 3 AM, you’re certain there’s absolutely no way in hell Seo Changbin is going to be at the gym. 

Could you just join another one? Sure. But is your pride going to let you? Absolutely not. 

No one goes to the gym at three in the morning, at least no sane person does. 

So, why the hell do you see a black, luxury car in the parking lot. It’s the only car in the entire lot. 

Frustration gets the better of you and you slam your hand on the steering wheel. 

“What the hell!”

You furiously park your car. This was your last straw, you barely remember to yank your gym bag out of the back seat before setting on your war path into the building. 

Why the fuck was he here so early? Does he live here? Is he bound to the building by some curse? Is he bound to you by some curse?

You rip the door open, it practically flies off the hinges. There’s no one at the front desk. Of course there isn’t, who the hell would come here at this time?

Changbin is in the back where he usually is, sitting on that fucking weight bench. 

He doesn’t seem to have noticed you storm into the gym yet. He’s too focused on the bicep curls he’s pumping. 

Maybe if you weren’t blinded by your rage you would’ve taken the time to stop and stare at the way his arms flex in that compression shirt. 

Your bag drops onto the floor. That’s when he looks up in the mirror.

Changbin’s face goes through several different emotions. 

Surprise, shock, confusion, then finally, arrogance. 

He places his weights on the floor and takes his headphones off just in time for you to open your mouth. 

“What’s the big idea, huh?” You start, “Do you enjoy making my life miserable? Why are you here?”

Changbin stays sitting on the bench and arches an eyebrow at you. 

“Now that I’m here do you want me to go grab all the equipment I plan on using? Should I gather it all by your feet and just leave? But even if I come back you’ll still be here, won’t you? Do you live here or something?”

His smirk only grows bigger and bigger. He tongues his cheek and stares into your eyes, which are burning with anger. 

A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face and drips onto one of his exposed thighs. 

Changbin says nothing for a long moment before he looks back into the mirror and preps himself for another set. 

“I always come here this early.” He says cockily.

“Like hell you do.” you snap back at him. Your fists clench at your sides in anger. 

“Sorry, Princess. Try again another time.”

“Have you ever tried not being a dick for three seconds?”

“Have you?”

Your jaw drops and you stand there dumbfounded for a moment. 

“I am perfectly pleasant! You’re the one going out of your way to make my life miserable!”

“You really think the world revolves around you, huh?”

“Two days ago, you sat with the lat pull-down bar next to you for two hours while I waited for you to actually use it, you didn’t.”

Your arms cross over your chest. 

Changbin winks at you, “So you’re saying you watched me for two hours? How was my form? Perfect, right?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Takes two to tango, babe.”

“Don’t—!“ Your own frustration cuts you off. “Don’t call me that! Fucking Christ.” 

And with that, you turn on your heel, snatch your bag off the ground and stomp towards the locker room. 

You’re positively seething with rage because of him. Who does he think he is?

You were not a dick! You were very nice in the beginning, explaining why you needed that bench; he’s the one that took it further than that. 

Ripping your jacket off, you practically launch it into the locker, pulling out the various things you will be using and slamming them on the bench. 

Since he’s still on the goddamn bench, it’ll be leg day, so you pull out your lifting gloves and pre workout. After dry scooping, you let it dissolve in your mouth with a big swig of water and adjust your clothes. 

The new matching GymShark set you ordered came in and it is doing wonders for your body. How great you look in this outfit is about the only plus for today. 

It’s a bright pink set that’s basically spandex shorts and a sports bra. 

And damn, you look good. 

As time ticks on in the locker room, your rage turns to a smoldering anger. 

He’s on the bench. Which means the Smith Machine is free. 

After filling your water bottle up to the top, you head out to the gym floor, headphones blasting pump up music. 

Changbin is still sitting on the folding bench when you come out of the locker room. He’s presumably in between sets since he’s looking down at his phone. His own water bottle held loosely in the other hand. 

You look away before he looks up and turn your music up louder. When you lift, you always need something that really pumps you up. 

When you get to the smith machine you put your things down and start to get it prepped. First, before squats or anything, you want to do deadlifts, and for that you need to get so much ready. 

You roll a bar out and slide on your preferred weight on either side. The entire time you can practically feel Changbin’s eyes following each one of your movements. 

Once everything is prepped, you put your gloves on and walk over to the bar. 

Your form is perfect, you know that, you’ve been doing this for years. Plus, there’s always that small bit of anxiety when you go to the gym that you’ll be doing something wrong.

So you poured hours of research into making sure everything you’re doing is right. Plus, this way, you also don’t need to worry about someone coming up and correcting you. 

At the end of your set you drop the bar to the ground. It hits the padded floor with a loud clang!. 

Everyone who lifts at this gym drops their weights, it’s nothing new at all. 

But, you see Changbin’s head snap over to you out of the corner of your eye.  

He can eat shit. 

You pace around a little in between sets, catching your breath and taking swigs of water. Bopping your head to the music a bit and thinking about what you’re going to do for the day. 

Time for set two. 

Same thing, you do all your reps and then drop the weight at the end. 

This time, though, you hear something through your music. 

Looking around, you see Changbin staring right at you with a sneer pulled at his lips. He motions for you to take your headphones off. 

You roll your eyes, but do so anyway. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Can you not do that?” he asks. By his tone, he is very obviously annoyed. 

“Do what?”

“Drop your weights.” 

“Everyone here drops their weights. Why is it different if I do it?”

“I hate it when everyone does it. You’re not special.”

You scoff and look away from him again, putting your headphone back over your ear. Changbin’s silent anger could be felt from across the gym. 

Set three. Same exact routine. 

And this time, you go out of your way to drop your weights at the end of the set. 

The mat on the floor vibrates and one machine next to you shakes a bit. 

“Yah!” Changbin yells through your music. 

Turning to look at him, he’s already walking towards you, fists clenched. 

You stand your ground, watching him stomp over to you. This time, you don’t even take your headphones off. 

Once he’s in front of you his mouth moves with whatever he’s saying. You watch him for a moment, pretending to listen to what he’s saying. 

Then you nod, putting on a show with exaggerating your movements, pretending to understand. You hold up one finger, his eyebrows furrowed together and his mouth shuts. 

You turn and grab your phone off the floor, lighting up the screen and holding it up to his face. 

“Cut The Cord by Shinedown.” you say loudly, showing him your music in his face. 

Changbin’s face contorts into an even angrier one. He bares his teeth and his shoulders raise a bit towards his ears as his fists clench more. 

All you do is smile innocently and turn around to go back to your set. 

A very large, strong hand grabs your wrist and you’re yanked back around towards him. You gasp when you’re pulled back towards him.

Changbin uses his other hand to yank your headphones off your head and throw them onto the floor. Your phone also tumbles down to the matted floor. 

“What the fuck is your prob—“

You’re cut off by Changbin grabbing your face tightly, fingers and thumb pressing harshly into your cheeks, causing your lips to pucker. 

“You just had to be fucking annoying, huh?” he asks, his voice dipping to a dangerous octave. “Always walking around here like you own the place, like you know everything.”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead. But then again, so would you.  

“Fucking let me go, Changbin.” you struggle against his hold. Changbin quickly releases your wrist to wrap his entire fist in your ponytail. He tugs harshly, bringing your face close to his. 

“I bet no one has ever put you in your fucking place before.” he growls and you’re so ashamed at the way your insides flip. 

You pull harder and harder against his grip, but it’s no use. 

“I asked you nicely to stop slamming your weights.”

“The fuck you did!” you quip back. 

He yelled at you to stop dropping your weights. 

His grip tightens on your face and he brings your body even closer to his. The heat radiating off his skin was insane. A bead of sweat drips down the side of his face. 

“Maybe someone should shut you up for once.”

“Maybe someone should—“

His lips slam into yours in a harsh meeting. Like a lightning bolt travels down your spine, your entire body feels like it’s tingling. The feeling goes straight to your cunt. 

A loud groan comes from the back of your throat. You kiss him back for about five seconds before you remember what the fuck you’re doing. 

You bite down on his lip, hard. 

Changbin yelps and brings his face away from yours. But his grip on your jaw remains solid. 

His deep brown eyes darken significantly and the only way to describe his stare is predatory. 

It’s like you just cocked the gun aimed at your own head, his finger on the trigger. 

In an entirely too swift series of movements, Changbin spins your body around and bends you over the back hyperextension standing equipment. 

The hand in your hair tightens significantly, he straddles the back of you, pressing his body completely flush with your back. 

His other hand comes around the front of you to cover your mouth. 

With no bit of gentleness, he shakes your face around and positions it forward. 

“Fucking look at that beautiful sight.”

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror in front of you. In the mirror, you can see Changbin’s eyes raking over your form. 

Against your ass you can feel his dick twitch in his gym shorts. 

Again, your cunt clenches around nothing at the feel of him against you. 

“So gorgeous when you shut the fuck up,” he whispers into your ear.

You should not be turned on by this. You should be fighting back with all your strength and slapping him across his perfectly handsome face. This is Changbin, the same guy who’s done nothing but be a thorn in your side for the past few months! 

But he’s also the same guy that looks fucking delicious in those black compression shirts. 

“Maybe it’s time someone teaches you a lesson on what happens when you talk back, little girl.” he sneers with a cocky smirk. 

You struggle against his grasp, it just makes him tighten his hold on you even more. Your scalp screams from his harsh tug, but it feels so good.

Squinting your eyes shut, you swallow a whimper from coming out. 

Both of your elbows are underneath you, holding your weight up on the pads. You’re trying so hard not to look into the mirror in front of you; you know that if you see the way his body is caged around you, you’ll lose it. 

Changbin presses his cock into your ass even harder, the feeling goes straight to your core and down your legs.

“Always in these tight fucking shorts, galavanting around the gym getting everyone’s dick hard.”

You thrash around just a bit underneath him and he holds you tighter. Your eyes open and you turn your head a little to stare at the wall, lips pulled into a sneer. 

“What’s the matter, little girl? Hate knowing that everyone’s eyes always follow your bouncing tits around the gym? That this gym is the most packed when they know you have leg day?”

Over and over his hips roll into your ass, the friction feels delicious. You’re thanking the GymShark gods that their materials don’t show moisture through the fabric.

“Does the little princess have nothing to say now?”

When you let out muffled noises, Changbin only laughs.

“Fuck you, and fuck your stupid fucking folding weight bench.” 

He leans his head down and bites your neck so hard you’re sure his teeth imprint will be there for days. The squeal that comes from your mouth is muffled by his hand.

Changbin takes his hand out of his hair to reach down and yank your shorts down over your ass.

As soon as the cool air of the gym hits your exposed core, you hiss and squirm around in his grip even more. 

“Fuck… Look at that. The princess doesn’t wear panties to the gym.” When you look at him in the mirror, he’s staring at your cunt while biting his lower lip.

His eyes are looking at your glistening folds like he’s taking in a work of art.

The hand over your mouth comes around your neck to hold your head down by your nape. His fingers thread into your hair right at the base to keep a firm restraint on you.

Two of his fingers run through your soaking wet folds, “So fucking wet for me, babe. Who knew you got off arguing with me as much as I did?”

“Fuck you.” you spit out.

Changbin’s eyes meet yours in the mirror for a split second, his grip on your head forces you down even more. 

He reaches down and pushes his shorts down just enough for his cock to spring free.

Holy fuck, he’s fucking big. Prominent veins run up his length. Your eyes widen in shock and he looks so fucking smug about it.

At this point, you’re positively dripping wet. 

Fisting one hand on his cock, he runs the head up and down your cunt, catching on your clit a few times and making you gasp and squirm a bit.

“Jesus fuck, if you’re gunna fuck me, why don’t you do it already?” you bite at him.

Changbin spits directly on your cunt.

“With pleasure, princess.”

He bottoms out in one hard thrust and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. Your eyes squint shut and eyebrows pinch together.

Changbin does not wait for you to adjust to him. He grips your hair as tight as he can and thrusts into you mercilessly. 

The wet slapping noises fill the air of the gym and echo off the bare walls; there’s no music or anything to drown out the lewd sounds of your bodies conjoining.

Every single thrust feels so fucking deep inside you it’s driving you fucking wild, it’s like he;s fucking through you.

“Holy fuck– hng– you’re fucking tight!” he grunts out.

In the mirror you can see his face screwing up in the angriest display of pleasure you’ve ever seen. He’s positively seething with how good it feels to have you clamp down on his cock.

All you’re able to do is pant and moan and practically drool with how amazing it feels inside of you. But despite the pleasure you’re feeling, you can’t allow yourself to give him the satisfaction of knowing how good it feels.

With each thrust, you do your damndest to keep the reactions to a minimum.

He notices. 

“Oh, fuck you.” he pants out. You both make eye contact in the mirror and hold it.

He pulls your hair to bring your back up against his clothes chest, his hand comes around to hold you by the throat.

This new angle allows him to bully your g-spot over and over again. You can’t help it anymore, your eyes roll back into your head and your mouth falls open with a strangled moan.

“That’s what I fucking thought, bitch. Feel how good my cock is making you feel, you can’t fucking lie to me, I can feel you clenching down on me, soaking my dick.”

Tiny whimpers leave your throat.

Changbin reaches his other hand down and begins toying with your clit, rubbing circles at the same rhythm that his thrusts were going in.

The combination of the two has you seeing stars.

“Shit–!” he moans out in your ear, “Pussy so tight when I do that, fuck!”

His hand around your throat squeezes a bit, making it hard to breathe, but my god it’s so erotic.

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” you pant out in between each thrust.

“Fuck me?” he says incredulously, he grabs your jaw and forces you to look at yourself in the mirror. “Fucking look at yourself, getting fucked raw by my cock in the middle of the gym where anyone could walk in.”

Another clench down on his cock.

“Fucking bitch, you like that, huh?”

You can’t take your eyes off where your bodies are joined together, his cock slips in and out of you so easily, entirely coated in your combined juices. His thick fingers rubbing your clit, hurling you towards your orgasm.

“Shit.” you hiss as you approach that edge, it makes your toes curl in your sneakers. “G’na cum.” you mumble.

“Is that right?” Changbin says in your ear and immediately his pace increases.

You cry out and throw your head back, but Changbin forces it back down.

“No, you’re going to watch,” he growls. “You’re going to watch yourself fucking cum all over my cock. And then you’re going to watch me cum in this tight pussy.”

All you can do is pant and keep your eyes focused on his thrusts, the way his balls smack against your skin with each one.

More and more and more the pressure builds until it's too much and you finally topple over the edge.

You cry out and try to look away, but Changbin’s firm grip keeps you there.

“Holy fucking shit, fuck fuck, ah shit!”

Immediately after your orgasm you feel your insides flood with something warm and sticky. Within seconds you watch as it begins to leak out of you around Changbin’s now softening cock. 

Both of you sit there for a moment, panting in silence. No other sounds fill the gym until Changbin finally speaks up.

“Next time, don’t slam the weights in my gym.”

Of fucking course he was the owner. 

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I need this Taehyun biblically,,, Like, I truly will never get over this fic. Knowing that so much of what Oc dd was to get his attention, and HIM knowing that is so juicy. The buildup where we see that they're feeling each other before anything happened them, made the payoff soooo good. They're actually gonna be a power couple

chulo

♫: Chulo Pt. 2, Bad Gyal

"Your hermit of a roommate finally decides that he’s had enough of your attitude. And of your constant assumptions that he’s never felt the touch of a woman. "

taehyun x fem!reader

Genre: pwp, roommates au, smut, enemies to lovers if you squint, ft. wingman jjun 

Word count 11.4K

warnings: barely edited and barely any plot mwah, use of drugs (weed) and alcohol; mentions of the mc getting drunk (not during any of the smut), jealousy

smut warnings: sub!mc, mean dom!tyun, strength kink !! bratty mc and brat tamer tyun, high sex, shotgunning, degradation, praise, pain kink, spanking, hair pulling, thigh riding, begging, pet names/name calling (slut, baby, princess, pretty/good girl, etc.) manhandling, brief choking, mentions of safeword (it’s not used though), brief marking, biting, oral, (f. rec), face sitting, tyun is a literal pussy fiend. fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, tyun is thick and big yawnnn what else is new, dumbification maybe, slight humiliation (kink? maybe.),breast play, scratching, possessiveness, creampie (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

(lmk if i should add anything lmao)

Notes: just leaving this here to remind u guys that i am the least sane solomon on this app. i actually only wrote this for myself but congrats u all get to read it too. say thank youuu! 

Taehyun was, for lack of a better word, a total goody-two-shoes; always holed up in his room studying, the only times he ever left home being for work, school, or to go run an errand. He was also your beloved roommate. 

It was meant to be, really; jumping blindly at the offer your mutual friend Yeonjun offhandedly mentioned, commenting about how his friend was struggling to find someone in order to split rent— “his old roommate moved out, now he’s going broke trying to afford the place on his own.” 

And you, in all your bright-eyed and enthusiastic glory, didn’t hesitate to ask for details; one long interrogation later, and you found yourself getting interviewed by the man himself— how you were able to snatch the title of Taehyun’s new roommate is something you’re still unsure of. 

Because as far as you’re aware, the two of you couldn’t be any more different.

“You’re going out again?” you hear Taehyun call out from the kitchen, the said man able to hear you approaching from the hallway from the jingling of your jewelry— something he was always on your ass for, never failing to comment how you’re like a walking tambourine with that stupid quirk to his lips— the sound of his voice teeming with judgment only brought about a roll of your eyes, trudging over to the kitchen to send him a harsh glare; you made a point of placing your bangle clad wrists on your hips, the action bringing about another soft jingling. 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, raising a brow expectantly; Taehyun seems unfazed by your sudden confrontation, not a single muscle twitching at your accusatory tone— his back remains turned to you, leaning on the kitchen counter leisurely while he scrolls on his phone— at the sound of your persistent hmm? He peeks over his shoulder to meet eyes with you. 

“You were out till three yesterday,” he says nonchalantly, only turning so he can properly look at you whilst keeping an eye on the stove, “Is partying all you do?”

You can tell he’s trying to provoke you— but you know better than to fall for it and get angry, already victim to his constant mocking and teasing to realize that he seems to enjoy getting a rise out of you— so you simply roll your eyes and scoff, crossing your arms over your chest before you’re turning on your heel and beelining back to the door. 

“You know damn well…” you mutter to yourself, sneering at the chuckles you’re able to pick up on, “It’s none of your business anyway!” 

“Yeah, it kinda is!” Taehyun retorts, but you’re too busy slipping on your shoes and your jacket to voice out a rebuttal— swinging your purse over your shoulder, you’re able to catch his final comment right as you’re slipping out the door; “I’m not making the hangover soup again!” 

“Fuck you and your soup!” 

You shut the door behind you before Taehyun can get a word out. 

   ☆☆☆

“How are you two still living together?” 

The natural light that streams in through the windows and the sound of Yeonjun’s raspy voice is enough to have you wincing with pain and ducking your head down; hot steam from your bowl soothes your skin and puffy eyes, your body still sore from the night before as you sink into the chair with a tired sigh. 

“Because as insufferable as she is, she still pays her share of the rent,” Taehyun mutters bitterly, setting down a second bowl of soup before your mutual friend, pulling out the chair across from your as he goes to sit with crossed arms, “aren’t you gonna eat? You were begging me for this earlier.” Your lips automatically go to form a scowl, but your hand still goes to reach for your spoon— because as much as you hated feeding into Taehyun’s big fat ego, you couldn’t deny that he makes some killer hangover soup; you could already feel the tension easing from your muscles from the first bite—- your eyes remained glued to the table, knowing better than to glance back up and catch the stupid triumphant look Taehyun never bothers to hide. 

“Fucking insufferable,” you mumble between bites, glancing at the way Yeonjun seems to catch onto your words, shoulder shaking with the soft laugh he huffs out. 

“Me?” Taehyun gawks, leaning forward as though to make sure he was hearing things right; neither of you respond, which only serves to make him more irked.

“As far as I’m aware, I’m the one that has to deal with you— always coming back late and drunk as hell—” Taehyun’s pointed glare jumps over to Yeonjun, who simply flinches and averts his gaze down to the table, “you said you’d be watching over her last night.”

“I’m not a baby,” you butt in, ignoring Taehyun’s look of disbelief, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“And yet you’re always asking me to take care of you.” 

You shrug dismissively, the last bit of your energy spent as you find yourself no longer interested in arguing; staring down at your bowl, you found that you were so busy trying to ignore Taehyun’s piercing glare that you ended up scarfing down your soup in a haste— standing abruptly, you go to place your dishes in the dishwasher before you’re spinning around and sending Taehyun a bright, innocent smile. 

“It’s not my fault you always jump to come help me out,” you coo, wincing at the soreness of your body and the sharp ache in your head as you make your way over to him, cupping his face and squeezing his cheeks together, leaning in close to him even as he begins to fuss and swat at your hands angrily, “and you’re just soooo caring and sweet with me— it’s in your nature, don’t lie.” 

“It gets tiring listening to you complain around the house,” Taehyun sneers grabbing your wrists firmly and pulling your hands off his face swiftly— the sudden strength catches you off guard, hands falling dumbly at your sides as you can only stare at Taehyun as he continues, cold and aloof as always, “It’s the only way I can get you to shut up.”

“Sureee… sure,” you mumble offhandedly, clearly unimpressed by his excuse as you saunter off to the living room instead, making yourself comfortable on the couch before you’re yelling back to the kitchen one last time. 

“Jjunie,” you call, waiting for the muffled hmm? of the said man before you continue, “are we still down for the part next Saturday? Jake’s place?”

“Oh… uhhhm,” he pauses, and you’re sure Taehyun is probably sending him a deadly glare right now, “sure, if you want to.” 

“Of course I want to,” you grin, pulling out your phone to look up Jake’s instagram page, scrolling through his feed to get a refresher of what he looks like, the satisfaction of what you see seeping into your voice as you speak, “Partying’s all I do.”

You swear you hear a scoff; it only serves to make you anticipate the weekend a little more. 

   ☆☆☆

“You’re leaving like that?” 

Your body is jolting in surprise, the mascara wand in your hand clattering on your desk as you curse in shock— Taehyun stands in your now opened doorway, unable to sense his presence due to the focus you were putting in to make sure your makeup came out perfect— meeting his gaze through the mirror, you frown, nose scrunching in distaste at the way he clearly judges you; your hand reaches for your phone, turning down the music you were playing in order to actually hear him properly. 

“Don’t you know how to knock?” 

“I tried. I’ve been trying. For the past three minutes,” Taehyun says, ignoring your complaints as he makes his way into your room, coming up behind you as he scans your setup— he ignores the way you continue to glare at him harshly, eyes running slowly over the mess you’ve made before he’s leaning down and reaching across the vanity; you’re pressed back against the chair and left to watch as his arm obscures your vision, hoping he didn’t pick up on the way your eyes glued onto his muscles that bulged slightly as he reached for the charger plugged into the far outlet. 

“You never gave this back,” Taehyun sighs, and before you can refute that you were just about to, he gives you a pointed look with that raised brow of his. “It’s been three days.”

“My bad,” is all you can bring yourself to say, picking up your mascara wand again as you go back to applying your makeup carefully— but it’s hard to concentrate, especially with the way Taehyun continues to linger behind you, able to feel his warmth due to how close he is— and you glance over your shoulder, scanning him up and down before you’re turning back to your vanity, “is there something else I can help you with?” 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“What, the whole why are you dressed like that thing? Are you seriously expecting an answer to that?” you ask, putting your mascara away as you move to your lips instead, “It’s nothing new, I don’t know why you’re so fixated on that right now.”

“Nothing new?” Taehyun repeats, and through the reflection of the mirror, you’re able to catch the way he frowns in disbelief and scans you once more. “You never dress like this for house parties.” 

“Hmm,” you hum softly, doing your final touch ups before you’re standing abruptly, spinning around to face Taehyun with a pout, “it’s the skirt right? It’s throwing the whole thing off.” 

Taehyun watches as you push past him and head straight to your closet; glancing over your shoulder and nodding at him to sit on your bed, turning back around before you can catch the way he hesitantly follows your command— and you’re turning back around with three more garments in your hand, each option smaller than the one before— the sight has his brows jumping briefly. 

“I was thinking this one at first— I think the darker denim is cuter though, like this one,” you press each skirt to your waist, peeking at yourself in your body length mirror before you switch to the next option; again, you’re pouting and shaking your head, throwing the first two options aside before you’re turning around to show Taehyun the last option proudly. 

“But actually, I think this one is the one— look at the pockets, they’re sooo cute,” you smile, flipping the garment over to show him— and indeed, they’re blinged out and sparkly, just like the rest of you; you hold it against your waist, checking yourself out in the mirror with satisfaction. 

“That— that barely covers you.”

“So?” you effortlessly reply, tilting your head and meeting Taehyun’s gaze through the mirror; dramatically, you gasp, mouth falling open and brows rising as you proceed to blatantly mock him, “Oh, is this too scandalous for you? Sorry, I forget you’re a bit more… reserved. It’s okay, you don’t have to stay in here if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You’re biting your tongue as you listen to Taehyun sputter behind you in confusion; through the corner of your eye, you’re able to watch as his brows knit together, leaning forward and tilting his head as he struggles to find a response. 

“Where the hell did you get that from?”

“Oh,” you trail off, tsking awkwardly and amping up your dramatics as you pause— Looking over your shoulder, you meet Taehyun’s prying gaze, returning it with a faux apologetic smile. “Y’knoww… Yeonjun told me. About you.”

If anything, that only serves to confuse Taehyun even more— and worry him, if the way he stares off into space, visibly deep in thought, serves as any indicator. 

“What did he tell you,” Taehyun mutters, the question more directed to himself as he racks his mind for possible answers— but you beat him to it, continuing your efforts to keep a poker face as you shrug innocently. 

“Just… about you. Relationships, experience…” and you’re turning your back to him, muttering the last part and taking in the way Taehyun leans forward even more to catch what slips out your mouth, “or, lack thereof.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“We were talking about our own stuff and you kinda just came up in the conversation randomly!” you say defensively, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of! It’s okay to shy away from… this lifestyle, or whatever you like to call it— there’s nothing wrong with being your little introverted self, tyunnie.” 

You’re provoking him— you’re setting up quite the bait, and it’s working, because Taehyun can only find himself able to gawk at you in disbelief, mouth parted slightly in wonder of it all— your cute nickname flies over his head in favor of processing the fact that you basically just called him a homebody. A virgin. 

Just when Taehyun thinks he’s found the words to respond to such an outlandish accusation, your phone dings with a notification— you’re all but bouncing over to it excitedly, hovering over the device and letting out a soft ah! In excitement— sending Taehyun a pleading smile, he’s already able to guess what you’ll ask of him. 

“Junie’s here! Can you please please please go answer the door for me? I need to change.” you watch Taehyun hesitate for a moment; he then nods reluctantly, getting up slowly before he trudges out of your room, your words still bouncing around the walls of his mind as you shut the door and yell out a cute thank you! As you do. 

Taehyun opens the front door to find an equally flashy Yeonjun on the other side— the sight of his over the top outfit is enough to catch Taehyun off guard and have all his thoughts tumbling out of his mouth without restraint. 

“Did you tell her I was a virgin?”

Yeonjun’s brows jump up in disbelief— he’s halting mid step through the doorway, sending Taehyun a confused look before he steps inside and closes the door behind him— looking at his friend for further explanation, Yeonjun is only met with Taehyun crossing his arms with an expectant look. 

“Dude. What the hell are you on about.”

“Why is ___ acting like I’m a total prude— saying you told her I was inexperienced,” Taehyun isn’t exactly sure why tonight’s comment was what set him off— you’ve been like this for as long as he could remember, always portraying Taehyun as someone pure, innocent, and stuck-up— he always thought you were joking, but as it turns out, that might not be the case. 

“Oh— she’s probably not being serious, don’t worry,” Yeonjun shrugs, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, craning his neck to try and get a glance down the hallway, seeing if you’re finally ready— you’re nowhere to be seen, and Yeonjun sighs impatiently.

“Okay, but what did you say to her?” Taehyun presses on, eyes narrowing at the sight of Yeonjun pressing his lips together hesitantly, “Yeonjun.”

“I just said that it’s… rare to ever see you get interested in anyone,” Yeonjun pouts, but Taehyun can tell that’s not the full truth— Yeonjun caves in after a moment, gulping softly and lowering his voice to nothing but a murmur, “and that she should stop flirting with you, cause you wouldn’t even know how to handle all that.”

“You what?!”

“Yeonjunnie, what do you think?” your voice is sweet and lilted as you finally come out of your room, interrupting Taehyun’s heated outburst with your jingling jewelry— the two men are turning over to you, Taehyun too busy taking in your appearance to notice Yeonjun sighing in relief at your well-timed interruption. 

“So?” you ask, doing a cute spin that has Taehyun’s eyes widening and his hands clenching— yeah, that skirt was practically a belt, your pretty skin lotioned up and shining under the lights, the spin only allowing him to get a perfect whiff of your addicting scent, “Y’think I can get Jake’s attention with this?”

The name has Taehyun frowning before he can even process it— behind him, Yeonjun whistles at your dolled-up self, doing a once over as he proceeds to hype you up. 

“Are you kidding? I’m gonna have to fend you off from everyone in that place,” he says, reaching out for your hand and grinning at the way you giggle and take it, your fingers interlacing naturally, “he’s gonna be all over you.” 

“Jake? You can’t actually be attracted to that douchebag,” Taehyun frowns, watching the way your expression immediately drops at his comment.

“I am, actually. It’s nothing serious, just a hook up at most,” you roll your eyes, voice turning undeniably bitter as you bend down to slip on your shoes, the sight of your panties peeking out from the skirt, tucked neatly between your thighs not lost on Taehyun, “Plus, I heard he really knows how to treat a woman.”

Taehyun’s gaze snaps up to meet Yeonjun’s; his glare is lethal enough to kill, and the recipient can only shrug sheepishly in return. 

“Sleep well Taehyun,” you remark, clearly poking fun at the fact that Taehyun usually sleeps much earlier than you, never failing to call him a grandpa for it, (which is ridiculous, considering that you barely sleep.) “You don’t have to worry about me— probably won’t be home tonight.”

You’re closing the door and dragging Yeonjun with you before Taehyun can respond, probably off to pregame outside while you wait for your uber; he’s left staring at the spot you just stood at, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed in anger— a minute goes by, and something decidedly shifts within Taehyun. 

He’s gotta do something about this image you have of him. He should probably fix that attitude of yours too, while he’s at it. 

   ☆☆☆

“Where the hell is he?” it’s something you seem to have asked for the umpteenth time tonight, leaning against the wall and pouting at your friend while you stand in line for the bathroom— you’ve been at the party for a solid hour now, and you still have yet to see Jake around. And to think, he was the one who invited you to his place in the first place. How rude. 

“I told you not to give him a chance!” Yeonjun yells, leaning in closer so you can actually hear him through the booming music and the crowds of people singing along to whatever’s blasting from the living room, “this party fucking sucks, too.”

You can only exaggerate your pout further with a petulant humph. Your body slouches and you can already feel your heart getting heavy with disappointment, unable to refute the way your best friend proceeds to mutter something about Jake probably being too busy sucking off another girl’s face in a random room of the house. 

“You never gave in to his advances— you said he was a man-whore,” Yeonjun continues to recall, wincing at the sight of two random girls rushing past him and to the front of the line, carrying their clearly shit-faced friend and screaming about how she’s going to throw up all over— the two of you cringe, exchanging a glance and mutually agreeing that you two can hold it a little more; you slowly trudge your way back to where everyone else is. “What changed? Why’d you give in?” 

You scoff, lips upturned with distaste as you send your friend a glare— the wound still as fresh as ever, voice dripping with venom as you lean close to Yeonjun’s ear so he can actually hear you. 

“Junnie, you know why!” you whine, smacking his shoulder and ignoring the way he childishly yelps, “I’ve officially decided to move on— I can’t stand flirting with a brick wall anymore, I need to… need to…” 

You’re trailing off, gaze wandering off to a foreign point, Yeonjun’s brows furrowing before he begins to follow your line of sight— and just like you, Yeonjun remains speechless, the unexpected sight leaving your jaws gaping. 

“This can’t be real.” 

But it is. The way Taehyun is currently leaning casually against the wall, drink in hand and coy smile on his face as he talks to some random girl, is very real. You can recognize that man anywhere— even in this crowded room of dancing and jumping bodies, your eyes still remain glued to him. 

But, the more you look at him, the more you realize something— he looks… different. It’s subtle, but it’s still there; the mischievous glint in his eyes, his relaxed posture and the hair that falls into his eyes, he has a confident, sly air to him you’ve never seen before— the girl leans up on her tippy-toes to whisper something in his ear, a hand on his shoulder to get stabilized, and the two laugh; your mind is too preoccupied with the way her hand lingers, the way Taehyun tilts his head in amusement, to realize the frown that has pulled your face together. 

Taehyun brings the can of beer in his hand to his lips— he turns his head, and his eyes find yours effortlessly. 

“He actually came,” Yeonjun awes beside you, and that’s enough to have your head whipping toward him, trying to ignore the way your face burns at the sudden eye contact, still able to feel his eyes linger on you for a moment after. 

“What are you talking about? Did you give him the address?” you say, your voice whiny as you speak, surprised to find that you’re not exactly sure how to feel at his sudden appearance— torn between the sudden interest he piqued within you and the disappointment that festeres in your stomach, knowing that now that Taehyun is here, you won’t think twice to give anyone else any attention. 

“Hmm? No, he was invited,” Yeonjun says, glancing back to where Taehyun is, looking back to find your confused expression, “him and Jake go way back.”

You’re kidding. 

“Nope. Those two were fucking menaces,” Yeonjun laughs— it seems as though the words must’ve slipped out of your mouth, the shock painted on your face more amusing to your friend than anything, “they used to host the craziest parties— now that I think about it though, that was probably all Taehyun’s work.”

“Wait… don’t tell me that…” you glance over to where Taehyun remains, then glance back at Yeonjun, reading his expression carefully and gasping, “was Jake Taehyun’s old roommate?”

Yeonjun nods, as though the news wasn’t earth-shattering to you. 

“After a while, I guess Taehyun just didn’t feel like keeping up with the fast life… I don’t blame him though.” Yeonjun shrugs, his eyes beginning to drift behind you, drawing you to turn around at the sound of the crowd on the dance floor cheering and yelling obnoxiously— and sure enough, Jake can be seen in the middle of a circle, flashlights of phone cameras recording lighting him up clear as day— you wince at the sight of a random girl dancing up on him, the sight leaving you to shudder and wonder why you were even gonna give him the time of day.

Ah, right.

“I can��t believe I was about to rebound on him with an old friend,” you breathe out, bristling at the sound of Yeonjun’s laughter, whipping your head around to send him a harsh glare, “and you were going to let me!” 

Yeonjun raises his hands up defensively. 

“Hey, I was just being a good friend,” he says, but with the way he smiles mischievously, you don’t buy it a bit. “I support women’s wrongs, or whatever.” 

“You prick,” you mutter miserably, gaze inevitably wandering back to where Taehyun remains; frowning at them now being visibly closer, Taehyun’s hand resting leisurely on the girl’s waist as they talk. 

And again, his eyes flicker back to meet yours.

“You know, he’s only here for you,” Yeonjun murmurs in your ear, watching your interactions like a spectacle, “he doesn’t care about that girl— probably just trying to get you jealous.”

“Stop lying,” you say, but your voice is weak and your brain is susceptible to his words; you tell him to shut up, but the way you perk up with interest is saying otherwise. 

“If I’m lying, then why is he giving you fuck me eyes?” 

As if on queue, Taehyun glances back again— his gaze is dark and inviting, scanning you slowly before he turns back to the unknown girl— and his eyes soften; they’re less intense, aloof, clearly uninterested. The final piece of your resolve crumbles to pieces.

“I think I’m about to do something stupid,” you say sheepishly, eyes still glued on the man across the room; beside you, Yeonjun chuckles.

“Do it,” he says, giving your back an encouraging push, sending you stumbling forward, “I support it.”

You don’t bother looking back at your friend for one last word of reassurance— your feet have begun to take you before you could even stop and think. 

You’re pushing through bodies; it’s crowded and hot and sweaty, cringing and jumping at the feeling of hands brushing against your bare skin— whether it be intentional or not, you try not to dwell on it, honed in on your goal instead.

It takes a moment for you to finally find yourself on the other side of the crowd— but you’ve lost Taehyun, eyes darting back to where he was just a second ago, frowning and scanning the area for the familiar man— he’s nowhere to be found. 

You’ve begun to wander around— exploring the layout carefully, eventually abandoning the living room and making your way into the kitchen instead— and like before, you’re unable to find Taehyun, growing increasingly frustrated the longer it takes to find him; it isn’t until you’re making your way to the back porch that you finally spot a familiar, broad frame leaning against the railing. 

“Taehyun,” you call out, the said man not flinching at the sound of his name; his back remains turned to you, but he listens to the sound of your nearing footsteps and your jingling jewelry, the scent of your perfume following soon after; you’re standing behind him, hands undoubtedly on your hips and a pout on your face as you speak. “What are you doing here?” 

He huffs out a soft chuckle— his relaxed, slouched posture only serves to annoy you, going to stand next to him so you can get a good look at his face— you try to hide the shock that’s blooming on your face, but then again, you’ve never been good at hiding your emotions. 

Taehyun cracks a small, lopsided smile; your eyes are wide and you seem like a deer caught in headlights, watching with fascination as Taehyun continues his attempts to light up the joint caught in his lips— your mouth is falling open to say something, but you’re closing it immediately after; this proceeds to repeat for a few seconds more, only able to find your words once you’ve watched Taehyun take a relaxed, languid hit. 

“You… you smoke?” you ask softly, unsure of what else to say as you stand staring at Taehyun dumbly— he raises a brow in amusement, pulling the joint away from his lips and turning to blow the smoke out into the night— it’s a slow, deep sigh, and you’re left in awe as you watch the smoke fall from his parted lips and disappear into the air; his eyes fall back on you, and you gulp. 

“Yeah?” he says casually, turning so that he’s leaning his side against the railing, tilting his head and drinking up your every reaction eagerly. “What about it?” 

Now that you’re before him, you’re finally able to get a proper look at Taehyun— a good look, unable to stop your eyes from wandering; he’s wearing that usual baggy tee and cargo pants combo that he’s so fond of, but even so, everything just feels so different; his undercut is styled cleanly, his nimble fingers glint with the aid of silver rings, a chain hanging from his neck to match— his tan skin glows under the single light placed on the porch and fuck, has he always smelled this good?

“Nothing, it’s just—” you stop yourself, biting your lip and thinking carefully over what to say; Taehyun quirks up a brow curiously, bringing his hand back up to his lips, taking another slow drag from the joint, watching the end light up before he pulls away— and you huff, hands gesturing hopelessly as you find yourself unable to properly articulate your thoughts, not when he’s staring at you so intensely, “Where did all… this, come from?”

Taehyun doesn’t answer; he simply stares at you with amused eyes. So, you continue.

“You’re always judging me for going to parties, now you’re here? And—” you stammer, pointing at the joint between his fingers in confusion, “I’ve always asked if you wanted to smoke together, and you always said no.” 

Gently, your voice trails off— and suddenly, any confidence you had when you initially approached Taehyun is wilting, your gaze averting as you begin to recount his behavior, his words, everything.

“Do you hate me or something?” 

Your words are accusatory and petulant; the question is meant to be lighthearted, but Taehyun can tell there is some genuineness to it. 

It’s silent; you’re tense. Your gaze remains glued to some distant irrelevant point, finding yourself too nervous to look up at Taehyun’s reaction to your sudden outburst— but nothing happens. Seconds feel like hours, and after what feels like eternity, a hand is gently reaching to tilt your chin up; your gaze meets Taehyun’s, and he smiles— his other hand slowly comes up your face, the joint centimeters away from your lips. 

“Wanna hit?”

His evasion to your question is not lost on you. Bitterly, you chuckle, reaching up to take the joint from him— but he’s pulling it away from you before you can grab it, tutting softly and placing it back at your lips; you reach for it again, but this time, Taehyun grabs your wrist to stop you. He taps the joint against your lips and raises his brows expectantly— what he’s asking of you finally clicks in your mind; your lips part, and he holds the joint for you as you inhale. 

Taehyun watches you with dark, intent eyes— as though analyzing every move you make, from the way you lean your head forward to the way your eyes flicker up nervously to look up at him— your face is oddly innocent and shy, feeling a lot smaller under the man’s gaze as you finally pull away; you’re exhaling slowly, your mouth slightly bitter from the taste as your swallow nervously. 

“So? Are you just gonna ignore all my questions?” you ask softly, suddenly feeling a lot weaker as you lean on the railing, crossing your arms and watching Taehyun bring the joint back to his lips— the edges of his mouth quirk up at the sticky feeling of your lip gloss that lingers on it. 

“Well… first of all… I’ve been like this, you just met me during the time I decided to back off and change my ways,” Taehyun jokes, the joint still caught between his lips as he speaks, hanging precariously, “and second of all, I definitely don’t hate you.” 

“You don’t?” you ask hopefully, doe eyes lighting up and your hand subconsciously reaching out to ask for the joint; he chuckles and hands it to you, shaking his head and watching you take a long hit with a raised brow.

“No. You’re just annoying,” he mutters, watching the way you bristle with annoyance, “what? It’s true. You drive me crazy, always forcing me to take care of your reckless ass.”

“Seriously? I literally don’t do anything to you— you’re the one who always decides to get involved,” you sneer, your snarky attitude finally back as you glare at an unfazed Taehyun; your eyes run over his appearance once more, unable to control your childish mouth as you continue, “even now— you come here out of nowhere and suddenly you’re all badass.”

“Are you trying to prove me wrong? You gonna go find some girl to bring back to the apartment?” you pout at him, taking one last hit from the joint and smiling wickedly, “I wouldn’t mind if you did, there won’t be anyone else home anyway— I have the same plans as you tonight, remember?” 

Your back is suddenly pressed against the railing; Taehyun is close, he’s pressing against you, caging you in and looking down at you with a gaze that makes you feel small— your skin warms and your eyes widen, unsure of what else to do but stand there and take the way he smiles meanly at you.

“Yeah? Where is Jake, anyway?” he asks, taking the joint from your hands and placing it between his own lips, hand steadying himself against the railing as the other suddenly lands on your bare thigh, just below your ass; you jolt at the feeling, his eyes flickering down at your outfit, at the tiny pieces that barely leave any room to the imagination; his skin is warm but his rings are cool against you, fingertips barely digging into the flesh, “or wait— is it not your turn yet?” 

Your body flushes with an unexpected heat; his voice is downright degrading, his eyes filled with pity, telling you things that his mouth doesn’t have to— look at you, all dressed up for a man who hasn’t even looked your way tonight. 

He looks at you as though you were nothing short of pathetic; it makes your knees feel weak and your stomach flip with an unexpected need. 

“Jake isn’t worth my time,” you confess, watching as Taehyun raises his brows as though to say oh really? “I can easily find someone better than him.”

“You could,” he muses, voice mocking and coy, taking another small hit before he speaks, “but who?”

“I— I’m sure there are plenty of other guys here right now,” you breath out, heart thundering in your chest; Taehyun’s face is close, so close, your bodies slowly beginning to get firmly pressed together— your brain is starting to feel foggy, your limbs suddenly much heavier and tingly; your eyes feel heavy and you’re beginning to list off names absentmindedly, all of men who you spotted in the party, all with a reputation as equally notorious as Jake’s. 

“Heesung’s in there… and Sunghoon… and…” Taehyun is giving a big nod to every name you list; he’s patronizing you, staring at you with deceivingly big puppy eyes as he hums a soft mmhmm, and who else? His eyes never leaving yours as you both try to pretend that you don’t notice his lips inching closer to yours, the way every exhale of smoke from him goes directly into your parted lips, your voice breathy and weak as you hold back a whimper that threatens to slip through, “And… fuck, and Beomgyu’s in there too… he wanted to come to the party together, y’know. Said we should go to his place after.”

“Hmm, you’ve got quite a few options lined up,” Taehyun hums, his voice sweet and light to your ears, a shuddered sigh leaving you as his hand squeezes your skin teasingly, caressing it softly and wandering up and down, up and down; he tilts his head, low lidded eyes glued to your lips as he murmurs the last part so softly you almost missed it, “but would any of them be able to fuck you right?”

Your mind reels; your chest is heaving with shallow breaths, the two of you stuck in a state of limbo as you feel yourself get lost in the feeling of him, unaware of the way your eyes have begun to gloss over, your hand reaching out to steady yourself on his bicep— your fingers wrap around the thick muscle, and his hand slides up your leg, bold and strong as he squeezes your ass— a soft whine slips out. 

“Well?” he asks again, unable to hold back a lethargic, fond smile at the way your other hand reaches up for the joint that’s still between his lips, putting it between your own, pretty glossed lips begging to be devoured— after a second, you shake your head softly, turning your head to the side and sighing slowly; with your eyes averted, you finally decide to bite the bullet. 

“No,” you say softly, “don’t want any of them anyway.”

“Then who do you want?” he asks oh so softly, leaning in to place a soft kiss at your jaw; goosebumps erupt all over your skin, and you shudder at the way he hums softly in question, persisting after seeing you get hesitant to respond— after what feels like forever, you turn to look at him; his low lidded eyes, his plump lips— and your nails dig into his bicep subconsciously. 

“You.”

There’s no chance for you to take back your words; Taehyun’s lips are rough and desperate against yours, all teeth and tongue as he groans at the feeling of your sticky gloss transferring onto him, your soft whines only aiding him to press himself more against you, to really cage you in and keep you right where he wants you. He’s biting your lip teasingly, sneaking his tongue in and toying with you, feeling him smile lazily against your mouth, wandering hand continuing to caress your skin, fingertips venturing under the hem of your tight denim skirt. 

After a while, it becomes too much— your body feels hot, your hand is gripping onto him tightly, as though he could escape if you let him go— your lungs burn and you’re barely able to keep up with him anymore, but Taehyun doesn’t seem to mind; you’re whining and crying softly at the way he continues to squeeze your ass teasingly, jolting at the way he suddenly slaps it— your fingers jump up to tangle themselves into his roots, tugging roughly at them in hopes of getting him to part from you; he seems to understand what you want, but he continues to ravish you for a few seconds more before he finally pulls away. 

In Taehyun’s eyes, this is the best you’ve looked all night; out of breath and flushed, pressed between the railing and his body, his cock already half-hard as he wills himself to not rut against your soft exposed skin like an animal— his hand leaves the railing to grab onto your waist, the other reaching for the joint that is still in your weak hold— he inspects the half-smoked, almost extinguished item before he looks back at you; a small, mischievous grin spreads on his lips, and he slips a thigh between your legs. 

“Taehyun…!” you gasp, bouncing up as Taehyun presses the firm muscle against your poor dripping pussy; your panties stick to your cunt and quickly create a wet patch on Taehyun’s jeans, and he can already feel the warmth of you through the denim— your thighs close around his own shakily, your free hand grabbing onto his shoulder for support; the glassy, wide eyed look you give him  is almost enough to make Taehyun lose it and fuck you then and there. 

“Hmm? What’s up,” Taehyun asks apathetically, fishing in his pocket for his lighter, letting go of your waist to relight the joint with a dark, concentrated gaze; his thigh continues to move against you, flexing and bouncing against your cunt, and all you can do is cry softly and plead for him to stop teasing— his lips quirk up into a mean smile, and his eyes flicker back up to your hazy, fucked out face, tucking the lighter back in his pocket and tilting his head curiously at you. 

“What do you want, baby?” he asks softly, bringing the joint to his lips and taking a long, slow hit, his eyes never leaving yours as he does. 

“Please… please stop teasing,” you whine, and judging by the way Taehyun raises a brow at that, it’s not enough; his thigh has stopped moving, so you resort to grinding pitifully against it, eyes shining with a desperation that intrigues him, “not enough… need more.”

He huffs; his hand comes up to grab your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks and forcing you to open— you follow his command without a second thought, the last thing you see as your eyes flutter shut being Taehyun leaning in, his own mouth an inch away from yours as he exhales the smoke directly into your mouth. 

“Oh yeah? Want it?” he murmurs, feeling you nod in his hold, “tell me then. Tell me how you want it.”

“I— I…” words seem to have escaped you; it’s hard to find the confidence to tell him what you want, the world around you a blurry and lethargic mess, your senses heightened to only feel Taehyun, his skin on yours, his rings that dig into your cheek, his warm thigh that you grind against— peeking through your low lidded eyes, you watch him shake his head disappointedly, taking another hit and proceeding to blow out the smoke into your awaiting mouth once more. 

“C’mon baby, use your words. I know you can,” he insists patiently, clicking his tongue and scolding you as you proceed to blank out once more; his fingertips dig into your cheeks roughly, blunt nails threatening to leave indents as he forces you to look at him. 

“Want it rough? Want it hard?” he spits out, listening to your whiny mmhmm, mmhmm! with narrowed eyes, and he laughs— it’s mean and condescending, just like his next words, “fucking slut, ‘course you do.”

He’s capturing your lips in another harsh kiss before you can protest; the joint in his hand is snuffed out on the fence and tucked away, his hands falling onto your hips as he begins to press you firmly against him, guiding your pace entirely and forcing you to ride his thigh; you whine and you moan against his lips, fingers tugging at his hair as you grind your soaked cunt against his jeans— when Taehyun pulls away, your lips chase his without a second thought, hands tightening your hold against him in fear that he’ll leave.

“You want it?” he asks once more, bouncing his thigh against your messy cunt, grinning at the way you yelp, “Tell me baby, go on, say it; tell me you want it.” 

He won’t let you go quite easily this time. Sharp, intense eyes prying the words out of you, brows furrowing together at the weak, quiet attempts that come from you, fingers leaving a bruising grip on you as he silently commands for more.

“Taehyun, c’mon…” you pout, an embarrassed heat rising up your face, not used to seeing this side of him— you didn’t even know it existed, to be fair, “I want it, please, stop being a tease.”

Taehyun has you regretting your words in the blink of an eye; hand pressing the small of your back, forcing you to arch and proceeding to land a harsh smack on your ass that has you gasping, the skin stinging from the feeling of the rough metal of his rings landing on it— but his hand doesn’t fail to caress the place soothingly, a total contrast to the ruthless glare he gives you.

“A tease?” he sneers, landing another, gentler smack, as though the words are enough to get him angry all over again.

“You mean like when you were showing off this cute little skirt to me? Hmmm? Bending down and showing me your panties? Or when you were talking about getting fucked by my friends?” he can feel you tremble against his hold, your mouth opening to retaliate— but you’re not quick enough, Taehyun’s smart mouth running faster than yours, “Or how ‘bout when you force me to watch you run off to parties and bring a man over to your room, just to have me take care of you in the mornings? Is that what you mean by a tease?” 

You shake your head, scrambling to come up with a response; Taehyun seems to have gotten quite fed up with you, because his hand is coming up to wrap around your neck, adding a subtle pressure that leaves you light headed and mushy.

“What, can’t talk now? What happened to that mouthy girl I had here earlier?” Taehyun says, his voice mean and dripping with venom, “tell me you want it, or I’ll leave you here— you said you had some other toys to fuck with inside, right? I’m sure they could help give you what you want.”

“No, no, please, I want it, need it,” you cry, attempting to chase any pleasure and grind your cunt against him; you’re quickly stopped by his firm, bruising hand, “Taehyun, Taehyun, please, please fuck me, I want you, please?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters lowly, eyes glued to the way your hips buck and cant, trying desperately to break free from his hold that prevents you from moving, “think you deserve it?”

“Yes,” you immediately sigh, body restless and hot and overwhelmingly needy, feeling as though you’ve gotten tunnel vision for the man before you; your hand slips from his shoulder and down his chest, finding the hardened bulge that has been pressing against your body with ease— his jaw clenches, and his face remains stoic— but that doesn’t mean you don’t notice the way his lips part or his hips press against your palm reassuringly, “yes– give it to me, want it, only wanted you from the start.”

“Fuck,” he breathes out, heavy eyes locked onto the way you look up at him so prettily, your hand palming and rubbing at his clothed cock only serving to cloud his thoughts further, “C’mon.” 

He’s stealing one last slow, messy kiss from you before he pulls away; fingers intertwined with yours, stepping back and proceeding to tug you along— you stumble at the sudden action, your airy self giggling softly at the way you tumble into Taehyun’s broad back; he sends you a fond smile, squeezing your hand reassuringly before he’s opening the door to the house and leading you back inside. 

It feels as though the whole environment of the party has changed; the neon lights, blasting music and humid air is a little more welcomed than it was before, unable to contain the dopey smile that grows on your face as you allow Taehyun to lead you wherever; you trust him. 

“Wherever” leads you to a bedroom upstairs— Taehyun is slamming the door shut and grabbing your waist, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall before you can even react; his face is inches from yours as he mutters a safeword for the two of you, waiting for you to nod and repeat it back before his lips are back on yours— but this time, he seems to want to take his time with you; plump, swollen lips beginning to trail along your jaw, wandering until he’s peppering kisses along your neck, teasing mouth nipping and sucking at your jaw until you’re holding onto his shoulders and begging for more. 

Slowly, he begins to walk the two of you backwards; lips never leaving yours, hands caressing your skin and toying with the hem of your shirt as he sits down on the bed, making you stand between his legs— pulling away, you put your hands on Taehyun’s firm shoulders, sighing shakily at the way he looks at you; as though he were holding back from devouring you entirely, a fondness that makes you weak in the knees undeniably there in his pupils. 

“Fuck, pretty girl, pretty body,” he breathes, leaning forward to pepper kisses wherever he can— pushing your shirt up to expose your chest, burying his head in your tits and placing open mouthed kisses, biting teasingly at the flesh, chuckling at the feeling of you jolting and jutting your chest out, your body much more reactive and sensitive— and he trails down slowly, down the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, lingering there for a bit as he kisses and sucks marks into the vast canvas; his hands trail up and down your sides, pulling you in every time you try to squirm away. 

“What, you getting shy on me now?” he tuts, nipping at your side and listening to the squeal that escapes you— his hands tighten and he’s forcing you forward, leaning back until he’s laying down and you’re straddling him precariously; your knees dig into the mattress and you’re trying your best to remain stable, but Taehyun doesn’t seem to be satisfied yet— you frown in confusion at the feeling of him trying to tug your hips up more, resisting the motion with a tilt of your head; Taehyun pouts. 

“Don’t be like that,” he groans, hands shifting from your hips to the back of your thighs, one cupping your ass and the other falling just below— and you yelp, Taehyun’s muscles flexing as he moves you up forcefully, much too strong for you to retaliate; you’re tumbling down, face burning and planting into the mattress as Taehyun shifts below you— your dripping cunt hovering just above his face, skirt riding up and bunching at your hips, any whines of protests falling on deaf ears as he begins to press soft kisses on your inner thighs. 

“T–Taehyun, wait, you don’t—” you stutter through moans, fingers gripping onto the sheets below you as you feel him beginning to trail up, your body revealing just how much you don’t mean your words, “you don’t have to— mmh–!”

His hands are coming up to your middle, pulling and signaling for you to sit up; you do, partly from your own efforts but mostly from his, easily moving you as though you were nothing but a doll— and your cunt is hovering over his face, hungry eyes flickering up to meet yours— he sees the hesitation on your face, the way you’re beginning to ramble once more, and he scoffs; the smack that lands on the back of your thigh is enough to get you to stop mid sentence. 

“Just shut up and let me taste you,” he says sternly; his fingers dig into your hips and he’s tugging you down, sneering at the way you continue to hesitate, only allowing yourself to hover over him— he bites at your inner thigh in retaliation, the sensitive feeling bringing out a cry from you, hips bucking and thighs squeezing around his head for a second, “C’mon baby, sit on my face— I can take it, you know I can.”

The hesitant hum you let out is enough for him; he rolls his eyes, and with a strength you forgot he possessed, he forces you to plant your cunt directly onto him. 

It feels like a switch has flipped within him. Fuck, you think, your lips parted in a silent scream, a hand scrambling to tangle itself in his hair, fuck! 

He hasn’t even bothered to move your panties to the side; he’s eating you out through them, tongue pushing into your hole and lips kissing and sucking at your clit like a man starved, groaning and praising you with a muffled voice; his fingers dig into your ass, making sure to keep you planted firmly on his face as he eats you out.

You think you’re losing your fucking mind. 

Just when you thought it was too much, that your body felt like it was buzzing with electricity, filled with a euphoria and pleasure that had you mewling and crying desperately, Taehyun’s nimble fingers finally push the ruined cloth that covers your pussy to the side— and oh, oh, your eyes are rolling back and your mouth is stuck open, Taehyun’s hot tongue lapping and fucking into your hole and his nose pressing firmly into your clit— he’s panting and sighing against your cunt, slurping up any arousal that leaks from your poor hole— his head shakes from side to side, humming into your pussy, and the last bit of resolve within you shatters. 

“Taehyun— oh my god, Taehyun—!” you cry, hips grinding down into him, thighs closing around his head; you can feel him fucking smiling lazily into your pussy, rough hand slapping your ass and guiding your movements against him, as though to silently reassure you and ask for more. “Please— oh god, oh— fuckfuckfuck, m’close, I’m close, hnng—!” 

Your words are nothing but fuel to the man beneath you— his tongue is flattening against your hole, licking up and flicking at your clit before he begins to suck on it; two fingers prod at your clenching entrance, proceeding to push in without warning, curling expertly and finding your sweet spot with ease; your body shivers and you wail, muscles growing weak as you fall forward once more— burying your head in your arms as you cry about how close you are, the new position only allowing Taehyun to move your hips firmly against him, rocking you back into him; his fingers pull out of your cunt in favor of shoving his tongue back in instead, following every buck and twitch of your hips with ease— his nails dig into your skin as he holds you still, eliciting a dull feeling of pain, and everything falls apart. 

Too much, too much! you think— maybe you say it out loud, your mouth open and gasping as you grip onto the bed sheets, feeling as Taehyun continues his same, intense ministrations; letting you ride out your orgasm but not stopping, even after you’ve begun to sniffle and cry about how sensitive you feel— after a while, Taehyun finally gives in, pulling away from your cunt to lick you clean, pressing firm, sloppy kisses against your hole and puffy clit, smiling at the way you twitch with each one. 

You feel as though your bones have all melted; you can’t move, face burrowed into the mattress and chest heaving as you try to catch your breath— beneath you, Taehyun moves, slipping out from under you and hovering behind, hungry eyes taking in the sight before him eagerly; ass up and back arched, glistening hole on display as you continue to shudder and breathe shakily— you hear the sound of clothes rustling behind you, followed by the feeling of the bed dipping— Taehyun’s hand rubs at your ass fondly, and you jump at the sudden sensation, eyes screwing shut and a quiet whine leaving you.  

“You’re so fucking hot,” Taehyun sighs, biting at his lip and stroking your skin, up your back and to your shoulders, leaning over and kissing gently at the nape of your neck as he whispers, “think you can take more?” 

“Yes– yeah, please,” you beg quietly, unable to feel an ounce of shame from how immediate your response is; you can feel his cock rubbing against your ass, the stickiness of his tip that ruts against you subtly— you look over your shoulder with a hazy eyes and a soft, blissful smile, meeting Taehyun’s equally fucked out gaze as you push your hips back, “wanna feel you inside— I’m on the pill.” 

The sharp breath of air Taehyun sucks in isn’t lost on you— his cock jumps from the way you grind against him, no longer able to keep up that cold and uninterested facade he’s kept up since the moment you two met up for the first time— he wants you, bad. And to his delight, you seem to feel the same. 

“Jesus, you drive me so fucking crazy,” Taehyun breathes, the soft giggle you let out not helping him remain calm; he sits back, a hand grabbing at your waist and the other wrapping around his length— he’s squeezing the base, pumping at it slowly, the gruff sighs and moans you hear behind you enough to have you clenching around nothing— just when you think you’ll have to beg again, you feel his thick tip begin to prod at your entrance. 

You think you could cum from the feeling of him stretching you out alone— a broken moan leaves you at the feeling of him entering inside you, so thick and big that you think he might just break you; your head drops back into the mattress and your hips are pulled back against Taehyun’s, soft cries leaving you at the feeling of him bottomed out inside you. 

“P-perfect, so… damn perfect,” Taehyun rasps out, head falling back and eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of you clenching around him— you’re so tight and sensitive, walls fluttering around him and sucking him in, tempting him to lose control and pound you straight into the mattress; he has to take a deep breath and concentrate on not cumming then and there, because the way you’re beginning to whine for more like a cockhungry bitch is really getting to him, “shit– stop— ugh– stop squeezing me like that princess, won’t fucking last long if you do.”

You can only whine in protest at that; it’s so hard to remain still, your hazy mind already fucked out beyond belief from your first orgasm— but even so, you still want more, you crave it, you need it; you make sure that Taehyun is aware of it, too, whiny and breathy as you cry and cry for him to fuck you. 

“Tyun, come on,” you pout, impatiently moving your hips back, in search of any stimulation you can get, “please, wanna get fucked already, want it hard, don’t tell me that was all talk earlier.”

If there’s one thing you’ve figured out about Taehyun, it’s that he hates when you try to act up on him— because as he tightens his fingers into your plush skin and slowly begins to pull his hips out, you realize quickly that he’s most definitely not all talk. 

“Ah—!” 

Your body is being driven forward with each thrust— Taehyun is fucking you hard, muttering angry words that you can’t even pick up over the sound of your own moans; his cock is thick and his hips are angled so his head bumps against your sensitive spot with each thrust, harsh pace not allowing you any reprieve as you simply fall limp, unable to move your hips back in tandem with his pace; if anything, Taehyun is doing it for you, rough hands bringing you back against him like it’s nothing. 

“Fucking slut— got such a dirty mouth, should make sure you to fuck you good so you can’t talk back to me,” he growls, feeling you clench like a vice around him, even more when he stops thrusting in favor of pulling you back like a doll for him to use, “Oh, you’d like that huh? Like it when I use you like a toy? Stupid pussy’s nothing more than a fucking cumdump for me— yeah, c’mon, move your hips, thaat’s it, just like that.” 

His mouth continues to spew filth, a stark contrast to how Taehyun usually is— he’s always been quieter during sex, but the sight of you trembling and struggling to take his cock is enough for his mouth to run faster than his mind— that, and the aid of his high that seems to have gotten rid of any self-control he usually exhibits. 

Your movements have become sluggish and weak— you’re getting tired, he can tell, so with one last slap to your ass that has you yelping, he finally decides to take control again. 

“God, can’t even fuck me for more than a few minutes? Where’d that cocky girl from before go, hmm?” He asks, voice patronizing as he begins his harsh thrusts— only pulling out halfway before he’s sinking in all the way, hips slapping against your ass creating a lewd sound; your cunt only tightens and gushes around him, hiccupped moans leaving you as he picks up his pace, watching as your arms give out beneath you and your face gets planted into the mattress; he huffs out a laugh, and reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair— yanking your head back, you yelp, left to his mercy as he begins to pound into your ruthlessly. 

“Taehyun, wait– slow down…!” you cry, scratching at the bed sheets and feeling tears prick at your eyes— and he does, for a second, waiting for you to say something else, for the safeword you both agreed on— but you don’t, and the laugh he lets out after catching on is enough to have your face burning with humiliation— and his pace picks back up— no, he’s meaner than before, degrading you below his breath and pulling at your hair, pulling you back against him, a hand sneaking down to place sloppy circles at your clit— you’re keening and clenching like a vice around him, a sharp hiss leaving him at the feeling. 

“Mmmh, too… too much,” you manage to say softly, immediately given another harsh tug at your hair in response, your eyes watering at the feeling. 

“Too much?” Taehyun repeats, and you can practically hear the pout on his lips from the patronizing tone, “thought you wanted it hard? Don’t tell me it was all talk.”

He’s spitting your exact words back at you, watching with amusement as you try weakly to prove him wrong. 

“That’s right. You’ll take it like a good girl should,” he grunts, slowing his pace down and punctuating his words with rough, deep thrusts, “Fucking. Take it. All.” 

You’re close, he can feel it, he can hear it— and the thought of watching your pretty face screw up into pleasure and bliss is enough to send Taehyun’s mind reeling, not hesitating to pull out and let go of your body— his lips quirk up with satisfaction at the way you’re immediately falling limp, fucked out face peeking behind in confusion, about to complain about why he stopped when he begins to move you. 

It feels dizzying, the way he’s able to manipulate you and force you into any position he likes; you’re sure Taehyun can read it all over your face, because he smiles meanly at you, patting your cheek fondly before he begins to busy himself with your clothes. 

“Don’t think I never noticed you staring, pretty,” he grins, tugging your skirt and panties down swiftly, eying the soiled underwear before he throws it off to the side, landing directly on his discarded pile of clothes— and he sends you another sleazy smile that has you bringing your knees up and closing your legs shyly— it’s all futile though, because he’s immediately kneeling before you and spreading your thighs open with his warm, large hands, holding onto the underside of your knees as he scoots closer to you, “always getting so touchy with me, grabbing onto my arms and thighs— dumb little thing, bet you thought you were getting away with it each time, hmm?”

“Shut up,” you whine, resisting the urge to cover your face and hide away— but you really can’t, especially with the way his thick cock ruts against your pussy, tip sliding up and down your slit as he teases you by putting it in, only to pull back out again, “Taehyun…”

“C’mon, grab onto me,” he muses, slipping the tip in once more before he begins to slide in slowly, watching your mouth fall open and your eyes grow glassy, “wanna watch you cum on my cock.”

This new position practically has you seeing stars— Taehyun hovers over you and watches intently, chain hanging over your face as he presses your thighs against your body, fucking you straight into the mattress; you tremble and you gasp, a fire festering in your stomach as you beg for more— “m-more, please, faster, harder, s-shit—!”

Taehyun listens to your every request intently— his stamina is impressive and ruthless, and his cock is reaching and hitting places you never knew were there— your back arches and your hands scramble to grab onto something to stabilize yourself, inevitably falling onto Taehyun’s body in the end; one on his shoulder, the other on his bicep that flexes from the effort of keeping your squirming body still. 

“So… fucking… pretty,” Taehyun groans, watching your chest heave and your eyes blink away tears, leaning down to suck and bite at your breast, frowning at the bra that still covers them— throwing a leg over his shoulder, Taehyun pulls your bra up roughly, hips continuing to pound against yours as he latches his mouth onto your pretty nipples— you gasp, nails digging into his skin as you begin to cry to him, good, s-so good, fuck! 

“Shit, I’m close,” he says after a moment, pulling off your breasts with a lewd pop! That has your eyes rolling back; he moves up to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, murmuring your name sweetly and waiting for you to respond. “I’m close baby, so– so fucking close– where— hah, where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you immediately mewl, hearing him groan unabashedly in response, “Please, pleasepleaseplease, inside, inside—! Fill me, want your cum, wanna be full—!”

“Okay baby, okay,” he says sweetly, kissing at your neck and wandering up to your ear, “gonna fill you up good, just like you want.”

“Oh, are you close too?” he asks, and you nod furiously, watching as he goes back to hover over you, watching every change in your expression intently, “I can feel it, pretty cunt’s squeezing me so good– c’mon, cum for me baby, wanna see it, wanna watch your pretty face, will you let me? Yeah, only for me to see— gonna cum, fuck, make you mine, you’re mine only, okay?”

His words are enough to send you over the edge; you let out a long whine and scratch at his skin, crying out his name desperately as your nails rake down his back, down his arm; he hisses at the feeling, the pain enough to set him off and join you right after; his hips stutter and his face screws up from the pleasure, brows knitting together and teeth gritting together as he lets out soft moans— but his eyes never leave yours, deft fingers circling your clit as he lets you ride out your orgasm— your legs tremble under his hold, eyes rolling back and face smoothing out from the pure euphoria you feel.

“Yours… just yours,” you sigh out, feeling his hips finally still, thick cum beginning to leak out from you, falling onto the sheets and ruining them completely; you pant and try to regain composure, but it’s really, really hard— you feel like you’re on cloud nine, words tumbling past your lips before you can second guess them, “y’have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that.”

“Really?” he asks; the panic you feel in your chest is short-lived, because as soon as you see the soft look in Taehyun’s eyes, you melt. 

“Yeah…” you say softly, suddenly a lot more shy under his gaze, “this was like. Attempt number one hundred of me trying to get over you. Or make you jealous.”

“Hmm… well, you don’t have to do that anymore. I’m all yours,” he mumbles, swooping in to steal a slow kiss from you; you can’t control the giddy laugh that leaves you at that, lazy hands tangling into his hair to keep him close. 

“Good,” you murmur against his lips, “I was running out of guys to use against you.”

His hand squeezes at your hip in warning— you smile coyly. 

“Joking, of course.” 

Nipping at your lip, Taehyun sends you a half-hearted glare. 

“You better be.” 

You give him a giddy nod; after tonight, it wasn’t like anyone would be able to compare to him, anyway. Shifting underneath him, you wince at the feeling of your sweaty body rubbing against the sheets— Taehyun is able to read your face before you can get anything out.

“Wanna go home?” he asks softly. 

“Please,” you say, giving him a shy smile that has his heart flipping pathetically, “will you carry me?” 

He laughs, placing a chaste kiss on your lips and sneaking his arms under your figure. 

“Always.” 

[tubareads]

Oh I'm a suuuucker for pining. The will they/won't they of it all is just everything to me. It was kinda sad seeing how insecure this Chan was but honestly that feeling is so real, and it was great seeing Oc kinda talk him out of it

୧ ‧₊🎧 let me in your ocean, swim bangchan x producer!f!reader

summary: “Chan, you’re an idiot,” Changbin sighs and Chan whips around. “What did I do now?!” he asks, trying to give his voice a joking edge but failing miserably. “She’s so into you, and you don’t even see it,” Changbin states grandly, like it’s the most glaringly obvious thing in the world. Jisung huffs out a giggle next to him, but nods. -> In which Chan is a little self-conscious and a lot clueless, Changbin is his therapist and his wingman, and you get really sick of waiting for Chan to get his shit together.

word count: 9.9k words

author's note: a little self-indulgent producer!reader bang chan fic because I too wanna make him feel safe and confident and I think the studio is where he would feel like that. I know I do, too, because fun fact I used to want to be a producer but then i studied music journalism and then life happened and here I am. also this is equal parts plot and smut sooo .... enjoy?!

warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it & pee after sex, guys); oral & throatfucking/oral (m & f receiving); fingering (f receiving); only a tiny bit of choking; only the slightest d/s dynamics; cursing because it's channie; mentions of other idols I don't know anything about so don't lynch me if something doesn't work ok soz

skzms' masterlist

“Okay, hear me out, what if the 808 did a dum dum d-dum at the end of this bar?”

Chan hums, fingers flying over the keyboard, mouse dragging the notes around. When he’s done and hits play again, the verse burst through the speakers. It sounds good, better even.

This was your job. Producing, mixing and editing music. You had replaced their previous guy about a year ago, breezing into the studio on day one, so pretty it had taken Chan’s breath away, and had given them firm handshakes and a huge smile, before taking control of the room and the computer with such professionalism that it made his knees weak. The three of them spent a solid day scuffing their feet into the floor like boys on the first day of school before they finally managed to relax. Now, not a week went by without Jisung jokingly referring to your joint studio sessions as “4racha time”.

“I like that,” he hums when he presses pause, and you clap excitedly, bouncing up and down on your chair a little. When he rests his chin in his hand, he realises he’s smiling.

“I love it, it even creates a little syncopation with the vocals there. It’s catchy,” you gush before swivelling around on your chair, turning to where Jisung and Changbin are lounging on the sofa.

Changbin and Jisung were usually less involved with this specific part of the work – this part being the painstaking adjustment of the mix, the addition of details, last-minute changes to the music. They didn’t have the patience for it, so they usually took the time to scroll through TikTok or doze while you and Chan sat there for hours, clicking, replaying, looping, adjusting the EQ.

Chan loved this kind of work. Loved that he could let himself sink into your proverbial professional hands, let you guide him from song to song, not letting him get hung up on something for too long, always solid and calm and confident. It was soothing. Here, he didn’t have to be anything, be anyone. He just had to do what he did best. It felt better than being shoved into clothes and smouldering at the camera ever could. Not that the minded that part of the job, but this was the part he loved.

“I agree, that little syncopation sounds really good with Jisung’s vocals,” Changbin agrees, running his hand through his black curls and giving you an exaggerated thumbs up.

You give him a smile before turning to Jisung.

“Jisung?”

Jisung looks up from his phone blearily and blinks at you.

“Sorry, can you play it again?”

Chan huffs out a laugh and restarts the verse, letting it play until the end, where it leads into the pre-chorus. Jisung purses his lips and finally nods with an approving smile.

Chan can basically taste the satisfaction rolling off you. Your energy was always like that; like a current running through the studio, one that he gladly let sweep him up, letting it carry him along and through so many long days and nights.

He doesn’t realise you turned back to him until he hears your voice. When he turns his head, you’re looking at him expectantly.

“So we keep it?” you ask, and Chan watches your eyes race over his face to try to gauge his reaction.

“We all just agreed,” he chuckles out awkwardly and he can feel his ears starting to burn. Great. You’re still grinning when you roll your eyes at him and shrug.

“Yeah, but you only said you liked it, plus, you have the final say,” you say calmly and Chan blinks at the screen dumbly, his cheeks flaring up more, before he finally turns to you.

“I’m pretty sure JYP doesn’t pay you to listen to us,” he quips and raises a playful eyebrow at you. He hopes you can’t hear that he kind of means it.

You glare back at him, but your lips are still curled into a smile.

“JYP pays me to make your music great – and to do that I will listen to whoever I think is really good at what they do,” you say and give him a wink that makes his ears burn more.

“So … keep?” you ask again and this time Chan just nods and you mumble a quiet nice, scooting your chair closer to him. When you take the mouse from him, your fingertips trail over the back of his hand and it sends goosebumps racing down his arm.

When you get up to leave an hour later, much earlier than usual, you rest a hand on Chan’s shoulder as you chat with Changbin. He tells himself that it’s normal, that you’re friends, that he shouldn’t be overthinking about how comfortable you must be with him to do this so absentmindedly. He also has to tell himself to keep breathing normally.

“Why are you leaving already?” Jisung asks with a yawn, “we all know Channie-hyung gets nothing done when you’re not here.”

Chan half turns and gives Jisung a glare, but Jisung just grins at him.

You chuckle and shift your weight, your hand falling from Chan’s shoulder. He feels the absence of it way too keenly.

“I gotta be back here tomorrow at 10 with Gunil and the boys,” you shrug and hoist your bag further up your shoulder.

“From Xdinary Heroes?” Changbin asks and you nod, “I didn’t know you started working with them.”

Right. Sometimes Chan forgets you’re not just here when they are. You work with other groups.

“Started at their last comeback. They’re the exact opposite of you, funnily enough,” you chuckle, “they always wanna come in first thing in the morning.”

Do you work with them the same way? The other boys are too young, but do you joke with Gunil the same way you joke with Chan? Do you rest your hand on his shoulder before you leave? Chan furrows his brows and keeps clicking around ProTools aimlessly.

There’s a lull in the conversation.

“Well, I’ll be going,” you announce before your hand comes back to Chan’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly, “don’t work too late. Same time tomorrow?”

Chan doesn’t trust himself to look at you, so he just nods, and waits until Jisung hums out an affirmative. Your hand disappears, the door opens and shuts, and your footsteps echo down the hallway. He finally lets out the breath he’s been holding.

“Chan, you’re an idiot,” Changbin sighs and Chan whips around.

“What did I do now?!” he asks, trying to give his voice a joking edge but failing miserably.

“She’s so into you and you don’t even see it,” Changbin states grandly, like it’s the most glaringly obvious thing in the world. Jisung huffs out a giggle next to him, but nods.

Chan shakes his head jerkily, crossing his arms over his chest.

“She treats me the same way she treats you guys,” he denies, though his heart clenches uncomfortably in his chest.

Jisung properly laughs at that.

“Channie-hyung, she touched your shoulder twice. For, like, literally no reason. Also, she keeps staring at you when you’re not looking. Just watches you click around. It’s really cute.”

Chan can feel a single tendril of hope lick up his spine. Changbin seems to see it in his eyes.

“You’re clearly into her as well,” he states, and Chan makes a non-committal sound that half sounds like a negation. Changbin’s brows furrow. “You go stupid every time she smiles at you. You comment on her outfit, you bring her coffee, sometimes you drive her home. You always agree when she makes a suggestion.”

Anger flares in Chan’s gut.

“She makes good suggestions! She’s a really good fucking producer!” he can tell he’s almost yelling and he clears his throat. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

“She is,” Changbin says with a little smile, “She’s a really good producer, she’s super hot, and she’s into you.”

The words make Chan nearly sick with promise, but there’s a whisper in the back of his head that keeps him from believing Changbin fully. Surely, it wouldn’t be him. The mental image of you flirting with Gunil makes him flinch.

“It wouldn’t work anyways,” he mumbles, turning back to the computer, “plus, maybe she’s the same way with Gunil. He’s definitely the hotter choice.”

“I’m pretty sure Gunil’s gay,” Jisung muses. Chan just glares at the screen.

“Well, if it’s not Gunil, then it’s one of the other 20 idols she works with. Or literally anyone else.”

He hears how pathetic he sounds and he’s glad he can avoid Changbin’s prying eyes. But, predictably, Changbin doesn’t leave him alone. He gets up and plops down into the chair you only recently abandoned and leans forward, his elbows on his knees.

“Chan, you need to stop talking about yourself like that,” he says intently, and Chan almost feels bad. Changbin’s right, he should stop talking about himself like that. But it still wouldn’t change the fact that that’s what he thinks about himself. What a lot of people think about him, for that matter.

He doesn’t respond, just saves the project for the 12th time in the last five minutes. He can’t forget to fix that snare, like you said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Changbin throw a look towards Jisung, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. They’ve been here before. Changbin lets it go and gets up.

“Let’s go home, get an early night for once,” he suggests and Chan looks up at him, “you know Jisung’s right, you get nothing done when Y/N’s not here.”

Chan waves him off.

“I’ll stick around for a while, I wanna figure out the bridge on the last track.”

They leave, begrudgingly. Chan sticks around until 3 in the morning, until his eyes are burning and he’s halfway convinced himself that Jisung’s wrong and you’re hooking up with Gunil. The bridge sounds worse now, so he reverts the project back to where it was when Changbin and Jisung left and goes home.

It’s no surprise that he sleeps like shit. He wakes up and drags himself through dance practice, Minho giving him worried glares every now and again. He nearly falls asleep in the shower after.

When he opens the door to the studio at 7.30pm and is welcomed by the smell of leather and technology, the whirring of the computers and the eery soundlessness of the padding – it’s like coming home.

He drops his bag on the floor and lets himself fall into his chair with a sigh. He leans back all the way, his muscles slowly relaxing, legs stretching out in front of him deliciously. Maybe he can rest his eyes, just for five minutes, until Changbin and Jisung get here …

He must’ve nodded off pretty quickly because he’s awoken by a gentle pressure on his arm and a soft voice saying his name and he hums, still half in his dream, before he flutters his eyes open.

You’re leaning over him with the gentlest look in your eyes and a soft smile on your lips, and for a second, he thinks he’s still dreaming, but then he realises where he is and that he fell asleep in the chair and that you just found him.

He blinks the sleep from his eyes and you lean back, pulling your hand back in the process. God, he hates when you pull your hand back. But you’re still smiling at him, which makes him feel a little better.

“Long day?” you ask, and Chan sits up slowly, blearily blinking the sleep from his eyes. You fall into your chair and pull out your iPad. He turns to you and nods.

“Didn’t sleep much last night,” he mumbles, his shoulder cracking loudly when he stretches his arms behind his back. He thinks he sees your eyes flutter down to where his t-shirt rides up, but he tells himself to stop projecting.

“Did you stay late again?” you scold gently, and he shrugs apologetically.

“Tried to fix the bridge,” he explains, and you nod.

“God, that bridge,” you mumble, “how did it go?”

Chan just shakes his head.

“Nothing worked, it’s still the same,” he admits and averts his eyes. He half expects you to be disappointed in him, which he doesn’t want to see. Or maybe you’ll make a joke about what Jisung said last night, that he wouldn’t get anything done without you. But you just shrug.

“There are those days,” you say and pat his arm gently. Right, he thinks, you wouldn’t make him feel bad about things. You never do. He can’t think about it too long, so he changes the subject.

“How did it go with Gunil today?” he asks and he hopes he sounds neutral, despite the hours and hours last night that he had imagined you flirting with the guy.

You look at him briefly and then you shrug.

“It went well,” you reply, “they’re really professional and Gunil always has great input. Also, I get to record actual instruments, so that’s always fun. I don’t get to do that often.”

Chan just nods, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, and turns back to the screen. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His brain chants. Say something.

“That’s … nice,” he offers and grimaces immediately. That was the most awkward thing he could’ve said. You watch him carefully and it feels like your gaze is burning holes into his soul.

He’s saved by his phone buzzing, Changbin’s name lighting up the screen. Right, Changbin and Jisung. They’re meant to be here by now.

8.15pm Changbin hey man, jisung and I can’t make it to the studio tonight send Y/N our love you should make the most of tonight

Chan blinks at his phone stupidly. He has all their calendars. He saw them earlier. There is no reason why they wouldn’t be able to …

Ah. They’re setting him up. Great. Fantastic. Annoyance flares up deep in his gut. He’s not in the mood for his meddling members.

He does his best to shake off his frustration before he looks up at you and oh dammit, fuck, you’re so pretty. It doesn’t happen often that he gets you all to himself for a whole evening. It’s making his heartbeat flutter in his chest.

“Jisung and Changbin can’t make it tonight,” he announces and you turn around, surprise written all over your features.

“Really?! I thought I saw them in the cafeteria earlier.”

Chan curses Changbin out in his head.

“Yeah, something just came up, very spontaneous,” Chan explains and you shrug.

“Oh well, this more our work anyways, isn’t it,” you say, smiling at him in a way that Chan can’t quite read. You turn to the screen and double-click on the song with the cursed bridge.

Our work, it reverberates through Chan’s head.

For the next two hours, Chan doesn’t focus on work. He can’t. He’s too busy wondering if he’s going insane or if you’re sitting closer to him than usual. But he so clearly feels your thigh resting against his knee, feels your jeans rub against his sweats with every one of your movements.

You’re finally finished with one of the tracks and you lean back, lifting your hands up in celebration with a yawn. Chan can’t keep his eyes away from your thighs, how they’re squished together on the seat of your chair, running up into your waist, the barest sliver of skin visible …

“You don’t have many parts in this one,” you state and his eyes snap up to your face, but you’re not looking at him, instead pursing your lips at the project that’s still open on the screen. “Like, you only have half a chorus and some ad-libs.”

Chan shrugs. Of course, of all the people, you would notice.

“Oh, you know,” he starts, burying his fists in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He should really start dressing nicer for the studio, he looks like a slob next to you in your nice tight jeans and sweet, soft sweaters. Fuck, he wants to run his hands underneath those sweaters every damn time. Stop, Chan. Stop being weird.

“Why?” you ask, finally looking at him, cocking your head to the side. The look in your eyes reminds him a lot of Changbin’s and he bristles.

“Well, you know, Jisung sounds much better on the bridge. Minho had less parts last comeback and gets the centre” he tries to reason, but you keep looking at him, “plus, nobody wants to see that.”

Your eyebrows pull together.

“See what?”

“Me,” he says quietly, “Stay wants to see the boys, wants to see Hyunjin dance and hear Seungmin sing and Jisung rap.”

You’re staring at him now and he feels like an idiot. Fuck, why did he say that?

“You think they don’t want to see you?” you ask calmly, slowly and he nods and shrugs. You scoff and shake your head.

“You’re an idiot, Channie,” you say, your pretty face pulled into a scowl as you turn back to the screen. Ouch.

“Why does everyone keep calling me that?!” he snaps, his face darkening. “I’m doing my fucking best, okay?!”

He has never gotten angry at you, ever. But now his heart is thumping in his chest and he’s glaring at you. You look surprised for a second before the expression on your face sours.

“Exactly! You’re doing your best and you’re doing a great fucking job, but you keep saying you don’t.”

Your words confuse him. You look angry, but also something else he doesn’t understand. Clearly, you didn’t want silence because you get up, and shove your iPad into your bag.

“You’re an idiot because you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. You’re an idiot because I like working with you the most because you’re so good at what you do and you’re so fucking kind and always pay attention to the people around you. You’re an idiot because you say people don’t want to see you when you’re literally sex on legs. And it’s not that you lack confidence, no, because you wouldn’t be here without it – you’re an idiot because everyone keeps trying to be nice to you and you pretend like you don’t deserve it. Well, guess what, you do.”

And without another word, you stomp out of the room. The door slams behind you and Chan can feel his heartbeat in his ears. What?!

“She said what?!” Changbin squeaks out the next morning, in the hallway of their dorm, waiting for Hyunjin and Jisung.

Chan nods, running his hand through his hair nervously.

“Chan,” he just says, and Chan can see the disappointment in his face.

“Bin, if you call me an idiot, I swear to God I will punch you.”

Changbin scoffs.

“I won’t, but you know what you have to do now, right?”

Chan groans.

“No, I don’t know, actually. What am I even meant to say?”

Changbin sighs.

“She basically told you she likes you,” he says carefully and shushes Chan when Chan is about to interrupt him.

“Who told Chan she liked him?!” Hyunjin exclaims from behind Chan, and he lets his head fall back against the wall with a thud.

Changbin repeats everything Chan just told him, and Hyunjin excitedly grabs Chan’s arm.

“Dude, that is so romantic! It’s like a movie!” He gushes, staring at Chan with stars in his eyes, “she totally likes you.”

Chan wants to fucking cry because he wants to believe it so badly.

“Fine, let’s assume she does, which is still crazy to me,” he finally says and Changbin nods, “how on earth do I talk to her now? She’s angry with me!”

“Oh, Channie, she’s not angry,” Changbin says with a smile, “what you’ll do is you’ll go to the company and find out what her schedule is like today and then you will go get her a coffee and you will pick her up from her last session and …”

“And then you kiss her and tell her something really deep like ‘I want to deserve you’ and then you go home with her and make sweet love to her until the sun …”

“Hyunjin!” Chan all but shrieks, but Changbin giggles.

“Not the worst plan, to be honest,” he teases, and Chan presses the heels of his hands into his eyes until it hurts.

Jisung finally walks into the hallway with his hood over his head, blinking at them.

“What did I miss?”

Changbin laughs and turns to open the door.

“I’ll tell you in the car.”

Despite it all, Chan does listen to them. When they’re done with the music show recording and everyone goes home, he ignores Changbin’s eyebrow wiggle, gets into his own car and drives to the company – with a brief detour to his favourite café down the road.

As he walks up to the reception with your coffee in hand, he has a brief moment of panic and his steps falter. What if you’re not there any more. What if you already left. You’re meant to record vocals with them tomorrow afternoon. He can’t face you in front of everyone.

The receptionist looks up at him when he stops in front of her.

“Hi, I was just wondering, is Y/N still here?”

His voice sounds odd to him. The receptionist taps away at her keyboard.

“She is, she’s booked with Itzy for another hour. Studio 5.”

Chan nods, hoping that she can’t hear the nerves in his voice.

“Does she have anything else on her calendar today?”

The receptionist looks down and then shakes her head.

“No, that’s her last thing today. She’s back tomorrow at 3pm with you.”

Chan nods again, giving her a quiet thank you before he turns and makes his way to the elevator.

In. Out. In. Out. He can do this. If Hyunjin and Changbin both say you’re not mad at him, you’re probably not, right?

He walks up to Studio 5 and mercifully, the ‘recording’ sign above the door is off. Before he can chicken out, he raises his hand and knocks rapidly. There’s silence, then a distant, “come in”.

When he opens the door, he’s faced with 6 women staring at him; you at your desk, Yeji leaning against the desk next to you, the rest of her members scattered around the room. His face immediately flushes red-hot.

“Y/N,” he says quietly and you rapidly blink your eyes before you get up and walk over to where he’s rooted to the spot in the doorframe.

You stop in front of him, far too close to not be distracting.

“Chan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“I … uhh, I brought you coffee,” he says, awkwardly extending it to you. He can feel the eyes of the other girls burning holes into the side of his head. You take the coffee from him wordlessly. He tries to ignore the audience, tries to focus on your eyes. Oh, your damn eyes, so pretty and intelligent.

“And I thought, uhh, maybe, if you don’t mind, after you’re done, we could talk?”

You’re looking up at him, your face unreadable. You’re wearing new earrings today, he notices. They look pretty.

You watch his eyes rest on your ears and huff out a laugh when his gaze meets yours again. You shake your head, but you smile.

“Sure, I’d like that, but we still have at least an hour left.”

“I’ll wait,” Chan says, too fast and much too eager. “I’ll wait for you. In our studio, I’ll just get some work done.”

He won’t, he thinks. There’s no way.

You nod, your smile even softer now. So soft. Fuck.

“Okay,” you say and he smiles, too, unable to help it.

“Okay … I’ll uhh leave you to it, sorry, I’ll go, I’ll see you later,” he mutters out, bowing awkwardly at the rest of the girl group and closes the door behind him. Once he’s outside, he can hear silence and then loud squeals and chatter.

He doesn’t get any work done in the next hour, haphazardly clicking through his open projects until the door cracks open slightly.

He slams his laptop shut when you poke your head into the room, and you chuckle. He just smiles at you, so giddy with your smile, your presence, this feeling that something is about to change. He doesn’t say anything, just waits, lets you set the pace. He can be patient, he’d do anything for you.

“Wanna drive me home?” you ask and he nods, already shoving his laptop into his bag.

You’re quiet as you walk down the hallway, you’re quiet in the elevator, though you do lean against the wall right next to him, so close he can smell your perfume. He leads you into the garage and to his car and you punch your address into his phone. As if he hadn’t memorised the way there the third time he drove you home, almost 10 months ago.

You still haven’t said a single word when he pulls up in front of your house. Did he miss something? Were you waiting for him to talk? Your hand finds the door handle and you crack it open, though you look back at him and raise your eyebrows.

“I figured it would be nicer if we didn’t have this conversation in the car,” you say slowly and he blinks at you.

“Do you want me to–“

You laugh, a clear, shimmering sound.

“Yes, Chan, please come inside with me.”

He nods, his cheeks already on fire again, as he kills the engine and scrambles out of the car.

When you unlock your door, he realises he has driven you home countless times, but he has never actually seen your apartment. You push the door open and hold it for him, before toeing your shoes off. He does the same and follows you into the living room.

His first thought is that it’s cozy, so cozy he feels like an intruder, like a stranger that just walked into your head. The sofa looks worn and comfortable, full of throw pillows, a thick blanket bunched up next to your laptop. There are candles on the low table in front of it, most of them half burned down. He wonders if that’s where you sit when you work from home. Cozied up in the blanket, your laptop on your lap, the candles burning.

Behind the sofa there’s a large wooden dining table, half of it taken up by miscellaneous papers and magazines. All around the room there’s … music. Two electric guitars on one wall, a bass leaning against the side of a low storage cabinet that is bursting open, cables hanging onto the floor. There are records on the walls, records under your TV, your record player next to it.

“Do you want anything to drink?” you ask from the half open kitchen, and he looks over. You’re leaning over the half open fridge. “I have water, Diet Coke, beer, wine, or I can make you some coffee?”

“Geez, you have everything,” he hums out, brutally reminded of the yawning emptiness and ungodly mess of his dorms. Compared to that, this place seems calm, clean … mature.

Your laugh echoes back to him.

“Hardly. For example, I actually have no idea how long this wine has been open for.”

That makes him laugh as well, some of the tension melting from his bones.

“I’m good for now,” he says and you shrug, getting a bottle of water from the fridge and walking past him until you’re sat on the sofa, folding your legs underneath yourself.

He follows you, but suddenly gets distracted by a pile of bright pink books on the storage cabinet next to your table. No way.

“Are those …?” he asks, a disbelieving chuckle tumbling from his lips. You giggle and get up, rounding the sofa until you’re standing next to him.

“Your albums, yeah, the ones I worked on,” you explain with a smile. Now there’s a blush on your cheeks. “A couple of versions for good measure.”

Chan just chuckles again, shaking his head.

“I hope you at least got them for free from the company,” he mumbles and you just chuckle. He stares at the pile. They’re all there.

“And you’re displaying them in your living room?” he adds, voice full of wonder.

“Hey,” you argue sheepishly, “I’m proud of my work, of our work. And look, …”

You reach around him and pluck one of the albums from the pile. You’ve never been this close to him; your arm is pressed up against his chest, your hair within a few inches of his face. He’s staring at your hair, so close he’d just have to …

Then you hold up a small, shiny piece of cardboard, victory written all over your features.

“I even pulled you!”

It’s a photocard. Of him. Him, with smudged eyeliner, his bangs in his face, holding up a peace sign. You look up at him with the prettiest smile he’s ever seen.

His brain crashes and burns and his hand finds the back of your head and then he’s kissing you; pressing his lips to yours softly, but insistently, a deep sigh fighting its way out of his chest because God he’s wanted this for so, so long.

You make the cutest surprised noise in the back of your throat, but then you melt into his embrace, kissing him back eagerly, your hand wrapping around his wrist where he’s holding on to you, as if to keep him from letting go. When he pulls back, you make a sad little sound in the back of your throat and he swears you could ask him to do anything right then and there and he would do it.

He rests his forehead against yours softly. His breathing is laboured, eyes heavy.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “probably should’ve asked before I did that.”

You chuckle, but still roll your eyes at him.

“I thought I made it clear enough that I like you.”

Chan swears his heart stutters to a halt for a second.

“You … like me,” he breathes out and you pull back in disbelief.

“Yes, of course, I … how was that not obvious?”

Chan shrugs helplessly, his cheeks starting to burn.

“I mean, Changbin told me you did, and Hyunjin also said it sounded like it.”

You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms across your chest.

“So, how many of your members did you ask about this?”

He flushes, but you grin at him. He takes a tentative step closer, his hands finding your wrists and gently uncrossing your arms. His eyes are caught by the image of his fingertips on your skin, the feel of it underneath his.

“Only Changbin and Jisung, and then Changbin involved Hyunjin,” he says, slowly moving your hands to come to rest on his hips. You let him, your palms coming to rest over his hoodie. When he looks up again, your eyes are glued to his lips.

“What else did they say then?”

Chan smiles, leaning forward only enough to rub his nose against yours. He can hear your breath hitch in your throat. His heart is thundering in his chest.

“Hyunjin said I should kiss you and say something profound like ‘I want to deserve you’,” he whispers and he feels you breathe out a laugh against his lips. He wonders if your heart is beating as fast as his.

“Channie,” you breathe out and it makes a shiver run down his spine, “you already deserve me.”

“Fuck,” he rasps out, his hands surging up to cup your face. But he doesn’t kiss you yet. “You’re the best part of my day, do you know that? You’re so … so damn pretty and so fucking hot and so good at what you do and so capable and … fuck, I like you, too, I hope you know that.”

You breathe out another laugh, but something in your face looks like you might cry.

“I was hoping so, yeah,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. He leans forward and ghosts his lips over yours.

“You know what else Hyunjin said?” he murmurs and it’s taking everything in him not to lean in yet. You hum in question.

“That I should make love to you until the sun rises,” he whispers, against your lips, and you whimper. His knees nearly buckle at the sound.

“God, please,” you mumble before you fist your hands into his sweatshirt and pull your body into his, pressing your lips against his hungrily. You let your tongue run over his bottom lip and he opens his mouth readily. When your tongue swipes over his, blistering electricity shocks down his spine. He kisses you harder, his tongue dipping into your mouth like he’s trying to map out every inch of it, one hand coming to your waist to pull you closer.

He would be embarrassed at the fact that he’s already filling out in his pants, if it wasn’t for the pretty little gasps you keep breathing into his mouth. God, you like him. You like him, too.

His head is swimming with the taste of you on his tongue, his body pressing closer and closer until you hit the edge of the wooden dining table. His foot hits one of the chairs and it nearly topples over, but you catch it before it can fall over. He hesitates only for a second, but it’s enough for you to notice.

“Don’t you dare apologise for that,” you mumble against his lips before you kiss him again, pulling him flush against your body. And you don’t have to tell him twice this time. He wraps one arm around your waist and lifts you onto the table, your legs falling open until he can stand between them. He leans his hands on the table on either side of you, caging you tightly against his body.

“Better?” he growls and you nod deliriously, letting your hands travel under his sweater and over his bare back, before you dig your nails into his skin. A deep groan rips from his throat at the sensation, his hips bucking forward into nothingness. Your hands are shoving his sweater up, desperately running your palms over his skin.

You’re staring at him with fire in your eyes, mumbling a quiet, “off,” and he complies instantly. And he’s used to people staring at him, of course he is, but nobody has ever looked at him the way you do. Like you had no expectations, but like he exceeded every single one of them anyways. Your eyes are roaming every piece of exposed skin, your fingertips coming to trace over his abs.

“How are you real,” you breathe and suddenly, he blushes. He’s standing in front of you half naked, rock hard in his jeans, and his face flushes crimson like he’s a school boy. You smirk at him and pull him closer.

You press a feather-light kiss on his jaw and his eyes flutter shut, his hands falling to the thighs he’d been staring at for the better part of 5 months. They feel so much better under his hands than he could’ve ever imagined, so plush and thick, he wants to feel them wrapped around his fucking head for hours. You keep kissing down his neck torturously slowly, sucking a deep mark into the skin right above his collarbone, and he thinks like he’ll go insane.

He threads his fingers into the hair on the back of your neck and tugs you backwards, your head following the motion readily, a little gasp falling from your lips. He kisses you again, with everything he has. But you pull back with a desperate little moan that makes his cock twitch in his sweats.

“Take me to my bedroom,” you breathe out and he smiles at you, scooping you up into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist effortlessly. You press messy little kisses all over his cheeks and temples, giggling slightly as he makes his way down the hallway and through the half-open door of your bedroom.

But before he can throw you onto the bed, you untangle your legs and jump from his arms, pulling him down into your lips again and turning him around, pressing your hands into his chest and walking him to the edge of your bed, forcing him to sit down. You bend down to press a few more kisses to his lips before you sink to your knees.

Oh fuck.

You stare up at him, eyes wide, lips slick and slightly parted, and the view itself makes him lightheaded. He barely thought he deserved you earlier today and now you were on your knees in front of him, looking at him like you were ready to give him whatever he asked for. You rake your nails up his thighs and he shudders out a breath when your fingers reach his waistband.

“You … you don’t have to,” he stutters out, though his cock visibly twitches in his pants. Traitor.

You stare at him steadily as you push your fingertips underneath his waistband. He leans back, supporting himself with his arms behind him, his fingers fisted into the sheets.

“I need you to stop doing that,” you say, your face serious. He gulps, but you continue before he can ask you what you mean, “stop telling me what you do and don’t deserve. I’m on my knees in front of you because I think you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life and I want you to absolutely ruin me.”

He blinks at you, unable to form a coherent sentence, as you slowly pull at his waistband. So instead, he just lifts his hips to let you pull down his sweats and boxers. When his cock finally springs free, he hisses, watching you as your eyes dip down.

“Fuck, you’re big, Channie,” you breathe and lick your lips. Chan thinks he won’t survive you. “And so beautiful. Such a beautiful cock on a beautiful man.”

With those words, you press a hot kiss to the inside of his thigh, dragging your lips across his skin. You accidentally bump is cock with your soft cheek and he whines. Whether from the touch or from your works, he doesn’t know at this point. You chuckle.

But you seem to have mercy on him because you don’t tease, dragging your lips up his shaft sweetly. Chan’s pretty sure it’s the softest thing he’s ever felt, but then your tongue peeks out of your mouth and licks at him and he has to correct himself because holy shit.

Your hands are on his thighs, massaging his skin when your lips loosely wrap around the tip of his cock. Your tongue swipes over his slit, humming at the taste of his precum, and then you sink him into your mouth, bobbing your head slowly, intentionally, swirling your tongue around his base. When you look up at him, it’s like the breath has been punched out of him. Your lips are stretched around him, a trail of saliva running down your chin, your make-up smudged around your eyes. It’s better than any of the wet dreams he’s had about you, and he’s had many.

“Fuuuuck”, he breathes out and you hum around his cock.

You shuffle a little closer and then the hand that was holding him comes down to his balls, running lithe fingers over the velvety skin as you sink him further into your mouth until he hits your throat and you gag around him slightly.

The pleasure is overwhelming, every slide of your mouth so fucking perfect on his sensitive cock, and when your throat constricts around him, his hips jump before he can control himself.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispers, breathing a ragged whimper as he tries to get his breathing under control.

Suddenly, you pull away from him. He flinches at the sudden loss of contact, your spit rapidly cooling on his cock.

“Channie,” you purr out, and his eyes immediately flicker to yours, like he never had a choice, “I want you to fuck my throat.”

Chan blinks at you. Surely, you didn’t just say that.

“Huh?”

You roll your eyes.

“I want you to fuck my throat. I want you to wrap your hand into my hair and tug me down onto your cock. And I want you to cum in my mouth.”

There’s a solid beat where he tries to figure out if you’re serious, but your words are echoing through his head. Stop telling me what you do and don’t deserve. And you’re staring up at him with so much desire, he wants to eat you whole.

So, carefully, he nods, mumbling something about pinching his thigh if it gets too much, before he gingerly unclenches his hand from the sheets and brings it to your face. He takes his time, lets his fingertips caress down your cheekbones, over the soft skin of your cheeks until they’re cupping your jaw. Delicately, he guides you forward, back to his cock, and you smile prettily before you wrap your lips around his head, tonguing at him in a way that that forces a moan from him. The sheer pleasure of it melts some of his hesitation, and he lets his fingers trail into your hair, running through it gently before he sinks his fingers into it and gets a good grip.

He starts slow, bobbing you up and down shallowly, the wet heat of your mouth already better than anything he’s ever felt. Then he pulls you down further, his grip on your head tightening, and the way you choke out a moan at the feeling is all the confirmation he needs. So he lets go a little bit, making you take him deeper and deeper with every subsequent slide of your mouth, and your throat opens around him readily. Then, all at once, he’s so deep that your nose bumps into his pubic hair and he’s pretty sure he’s seeing God because he has never in his life felt anything like it. He watches you, your pretty eyes fluttered shut, your nails digging into his thighs as he drags you up and down, and the image alone makes him hurtle toward his release. He can feel himself throbbing in your mouth.

“Oh, baby, baby,” he pants out, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure, “I’m gonna … I have to … oh God if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth stop me now.”

But you just hum lapping your tongue along the underside of his cock and that does it, his vision whites out as pleasure explodes in his abdomen, shuddering through his body until he can feel it in his toes. He’s cradling your head, his hips canting up ever so slightly with every wave of cum he shoots down your throat and he feels like it’s never-ending.

When he’s spent, he collapses backwards, falling against the sheets, breathless. He distantly registers you, gently unthreading his fingers from your hair and getting up before the bed dips and you crawl over him.

You look like an angel, looking down at him with a satisfied smile, even if your lips are red raw and your make-up is runny. A debauched angel. His debauched angel.

He smiles back at you before he pulls you into his lips, tasting himself when he swipes his tongue across yours. When his hands find your waist, he mewls out.

“How are you still dressed,” he complains, one hand coming to hide his face, “I can’t believe you did all of that while you’re still dressed.”

You giggle into his lips endearingly, but he flips you over until he’s hovering over you, caging you against the mattress with his elbows on either side of your head.

“Let me undress you, beautiful,” he whispers and presses a soft kiss to your lips and you just nod, eyes wide and wet.

And he does, lets his big hands finally push underneath the softness of your sweater until he can feel the unbelievably softer skin of your stomach, feeling every inch of your plush waist, squeezing and caressing to his heart’s content before he rucks the sweater up and over your head. He makes quick work of your bra, sliding it off you with a heady groan, his lips immediately pressing kisses from your collarbone to your tits, mouthing at the supple skin. When his lips wrap around your nipple, your back arches off the bed so sinfully, his cock twitches again already.

He hums as he continues to lap at your nipple, switching from one to the other, using his free hand to roll them between his thumb and pointer finger.

“P-please,” you breathe out and it makes his head spin, the airy quality of your voice like he’s never heard it before. He wants to draw every single sound out of you and he wants to catalogue them all. So he trails his kisses down your sternum, down the expanse of your belly, nuzzling his nose into the skin underneath your belly button with a hum as he works open the button of your jeans.

He gets up enough to pull your jeans and panties off you in one fluid motion, hooking his hands underneath your knees to pull you to the edge of the bed. Now he sinks to his knees and it feels almost reverent. He doesn’t care about the way his knees dig into the plush carpet because his eyes are glued to where your core is on display for him, beautiful and glistening. He hoists one of your legs over his shoulder, then the other, nuzzling the skin of your thighs with a deep sigh. Finally. But he can smell your arousal now and it’s so sweet and addicting that the kisses he places on the inside of your thighs more resemble a wet drag of his lips than anything else.

With the first lick to your folds and the first sweet moan he drags from your lips, his hand shoots down to squeeze his cock because he’s already hard again and_fuck_ you sound good and you taste even better, so sweet and tart and heady.

He leans into gathering the wetness from your entrance, swirling his tongue up to your clit and rubbing at it until your knuckles turn white on the sheets and only then does he let himself dip down and into your entrance, his tongue rubbing over the sensitive skin. You whimper and reach your hand out for him. When he sees you hesitate, he reaches out, interlacing his fingers with yours slowly and deliberately, as he laps at you. You blink down at him and you look so sweet and wrecked and so vulnerable, it’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before. It’s so unlike your professional demeanour at work, yet it’s so much more like you. It suits you. He dips his tongue into your hole, sweet wetness exploding on his tastebuds as you mewl.

“Channie,” you breathe out and he fists his cock loosely.

“What, baby?” he mumbles against your folds and moves back to rub your clit with his tongue. Your hips jump off the sheets and he brings your interlaced fingers to rest on your belly, pressing you down.

“P-please, touch me,” you whimper out, and Chan presses his tongue harder against you for a second, revelling in the way your body responds to him immediately.

“I’m touching you, baby,” he hums. When he looks up, you’re pouting and he can’t believe how fucking cute you look.

“I wan’ … wanna be full,” you whine out, and Chan’s eyes roll into the back of his head. He lets go of his cock and slowly traces one of his fingers through your folds.

“Want me to stuff you with my fingers, baby?” he asks and chuckles when you shake your head frantically.

“Wan’ your cock,” you mumble and open your eyes, the big watery depths of them making Chan questions everything he’s ever known. He haphazardly wipes his mouth on the sheets before he moves up your body, lifting you up the sheets with an arm around your waist until your pretty head is cushioned on the pillows. You look so ethereal like this, he wants to worship you and ruin you. Yes, both. He grips you by the chin, letting his eyes roam over your features, taking one more second to revel in the fact that he has you under him. Then he kisses you deep and dirty, hard grip on your chin as he forces you to take it. He can’t resist it, and he slides one finger into your wet warm entrance, entranced by the way you flutter around him, your hands flying to his shoulders as you curse out.

“Fuck, I want your cock,” you curse out, head tipping back when Chan adds another finger.

“You think you’re ready for that, baby?” he questions, head dipping down to nip at the skin of your neck as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

You nod frantically.

“‘M so ready. Please, Channie, I want you to stretch me open really slowly, so all I can feel is you,” you breathe out and Chan is glad his face is buried in your neck because he’s pretty sure his eyes just rolled into the back of his head “I want it to slide in real slow until I’m full.”

Chan pulls his fingers from you so abruptly it makes you sigh disappointedly. He grasps himself and spreads your slick along his shaft as he strokes his cock, dragging the head of it through your folds. Next time he will make you wait, draw more of these filthy words out of your mouth, make you cum on his tongue and on his fingers until the only thing you can say is his name; but today he’s not strong enough to resist you any longer, not when you’re begging like this.

He pulls his head back and looks into your eyes.

“You have a filthy mouth,” he mumbles, watches your eyes crinkle with a smile.

“Do you love it?” you ask coquettishly and he grins as he presses the head of his cock into your entrance.

“I love it, baby,” he mumbles as he pushes in slowly, almost breathless with how your walls are sucking him in almost by themselves, enveloping his aching cock in velvety heat. “I love your filthy fucking mouth_oh my gooooood_.”

Whatever he means to say is lost when you cross your legs behind his back and slowly pull him into you, your heat enveloping him slowly but all at once and it’s so tight and so hot. If you hadn’t already given him an earth-shattering orgasm earlier, he’s pretty sure he would be fighting tooth and nail not to cum right now.

He sits up a little bit and rocks into you gently and you whimper, quietly, brokenly, and he’s consumed by how much he wants you. He laces his fingers with yours again and pins your hand up and over your head, his other hand coming to your hip to hold you in place.

Everything around him melts away, any thoughts of his members or his work or the traffic outside the window, it all vanishes when he locks eyes with you, his own shimmering desire mirrored in yours, and rolls his hips.

“So good,” you breathe out and he dips his head down to kiss you, deep and lingering, as he grinds into you.

Much like everything else with you, this feels easy. He pulls out and pushes back in slowly, builds momentum gradually, wanting to taste every inch of you until the pleasure is prickling under his skin and he thinks he might go insane if he doesn’t get more friction, just how he likes it – and you’re underneath him, smiling as you moan, your eyes screwed shut as you rock your hips to meet his.

It’s like there’s something tying you to him, aligning you on a level that he can’t comprehend just yet. And when he picks up his pace, rutting into you harder, you take that, too, the nails of your free hand raking down his abs as his hand tightens on your hips, holding you down against the mattress with ease. He adds a little experimental tilt of his hips at the end of his stroke and oh, you clench around him with a heady moan, another wave of wetness coating his cock and making the slide even wetter.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, slightly breathless with the motions of his hips, the words falling from his lips before he can keep them in.

You chuckle, the sound of it interrupted with a heady little moan. “Says you,” you tease him and he just … laughs, throws his head back and laughs, happiness spreading through his entire body. How are you making him laugh, and this is still the hottest sex he’s ever had.

He lets go of your hip and lets himself fall forward, his body folding over you, his sweaty chest pressed to yours. He feels the drag of your nipples against his chest as he fucks into you harder, and the pleasure makes his toes curl.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he pants out and presses a kiss to your parted lips, “ever since you walked into the studio on the first day, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Your hands are digging into his shoulders and he picks up his pace even more, his head falling into the crook of your neck. He inhales, the familiar smell of your perfume mixing with the entirely new smell of your body and creating something so intoxicating he never wants to lift his head again. He runs his tongue over your neck and it’s like a drug, his hand falling from yours over your head and cupping the side of your neck tightly, pulling you impossibly closer against him, as he pistons his cock into you faster, his balls tightening with how close he’s getting to his release.

He sucks on the skin of your neck, letting his teeth graze over your pulse and he can feel your walls flutter around him, tightening more with every single one of his thrusts. He knows you’re close and he winds his hand down to touch your clit, but you stop him, bringing his hand back to your throat, but to the front this time. He pulls back to look at you, and the image of his fingers wrapped around your throat burns itself into his head.

“I wanna cum like this,” you mumble and he groans in disbelief.

“How are you real?” he echoes your earlier sentiment and you huff out half a laugh that’s interrupted by your eyes rolling into the back of your head when Chan angles his hips up slightly and tightens his fingers around the side of your throat.

“God, fuck, look at you,” he pants out, nearly delirious with how you’re clenching and gushing around him so hard now. He can taste your orgasm and his is nipping on his heels close behind. Your hand comes to his wrist and then your back arches, a long moan of his name tearing from your chest as you cum around him. Your hips rock back into him wantonly as you cum and your cunt squeezes his cock tightly as you fuck yourself onto him, and that’s what makes all his careful self-control turn to dust. You rip an orgasm so visceral from his body that he doubles over, shoving himself as deep into you as he can when he cums, his thighs trembling helplessly as he fills you up.

He’s still breathless when he pulls back, cupping your face in his hands and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“I’m so fucking in love with you. Let me take you out to lunch tomorrow before we record,” he says, and it’s like he has never felt surer of anything in his life, all his usual hesitation crumpled up somewhere on the floor of your bedroom, discarded with his sweatpants.

You smile up at him, wider than he’s ever seen it before.

“I’m so fucking in love with you, too. Please take me out to lunch tomorrow,” you repeat, and Chan lets all the happiness bubble up until his cheeks are dimpled, and his eyes are crinkling with a smile.

He doesn’t go home that night, only checks his phone and sees Changbin telling the group chat that he’s probably boning his new girlfriend. He sends a text to tell them he’s alright and will meet them at the studio tomorrow.

You order dinner, make love again and fall asleep with your legs tangled under the sheets, kissing, talking about everything under the sun. Chan feels like his whole life has led up to this day, when he realizes that everything with you is easy. It feels like home.

And when you walk into the studio after your lunch date the next day, all of his members fall silent and stare at you expectantly. Chan catches your eyes and there’s a silent, amused agreement. He just walks over to his seat and pulls out his laptop and asks them if they’re ready to start.

But Changbin gasps out loud and cheers when Chan’s hand finds your thigh under the table half an hour later. Chan blushes and his eyes snap up to yours immediately, finding you grinning at him with so much fondness in your eyes, he wants to pull you into his lap and kiss you for all the world to see. Instead, he squeezes your leg, giddiness in his chest at the fact that he can do this now. This is the beginning of something new.

skzms' masterlist // ko-fi

taglist: @puppyminnnie @like-a-diamondinthesky @lyramundana @laylasbunbunny @minsflannelwrap148 @caitlyn98s @straystays2345 @3rachasninja @maximumkillshot @sungprotector @stayconnecteed @mellhwang @chlodavids @kookiesbunny @noellllslut @warren-thedarkangel @kidrauhlschik @anyhow-everything @krishastumblernow @cutiespaghetti @hobi-szn @usagi---mochi @stolasisyourparent @steadysuitenthusiast @queen-in-the-shadows @ayoitschannie @starsandrqindrops @redstayrosie @vitrealisbunny @seukijeuxq @bakedlilgoonie @bookworm731

GENERAL TAGLIST OPEN 🔖 (please be 18+ and have your age in your bio, otherwise I won't add you)

[tubareads]

This was such a good story, I looooved seeing the progression in their relationship. All of the dialogue was so good and seeing Seonghwa's emotions for the oc more and more throughout the story was everything, and them finally getting together after that buildup was everything

Red Dress - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: It's time for the annual trip to the mountains to celebrate Christmas with the Parks. That including the human version of a headache, their son - Park Seonghwa. You've never gotten along, you'd even go so far to call him your worst enemy. But something happens on the trip, something neither of you can explain. It leads both you and Seonghwa into unknown territories, but one thing is for sure. It's all thanks to the red dress.

Word count: 20.6K

Genre: Fluff (!!) enemies to lovers, smut (yall.. seonghwa in this one... WOOOH it's getting hot in here)

warnings: "Enemy" Seonghwa with fem reader (fem pronouns). Hwa's mother has passed away, calls reader "sunshine", Seonghwa is a tease and he loves it, Hwa is a D-O-M, messy blowjob, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, aftercare (he's so sweet please), lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

You zip your last bag, trying to gather some kind of overview. Your main luggage bags and two smaller bags filled to the brim. You made sure to pack thoroughly. It would be dreadful to forget something important while staying in the mountains, with the possibility of being snowed in.

A quick buzzing sound came from your phone, your hands grabbing it from your back pocket. You don’t even realize the deep sigh escaping between your lips as you read the name on the screen, somehow you hear the annoyance in the simple text.

Seonghwa i’m here

You type back, wanting him to elaborate.

You at the main entrance?

Seonghwa no i’m on top of the building i just landed my helicopter

yes i’m at the main entrance

You 2 minutes

You roll your eyes as you throw your phone on the bed, looking around your apartment for the last few things to pack. The next few hours are gonna be horrific, being squeezed in your car with the human version of a headache. 

Park Seonghwa.

Despite the two of you not being able to get along, your families do, and they use every possible opportunity to do things together. The annual cottage trip to the mountains for Christmas is no exception. His dad and his sister are all very nice people, watching over you like your own family. His mom was also the kindest woman you’ve ever known, but she sadly passed away six years ago due to sickness. When you were kids, everyone got along just fine. Not the best, because you still thought Seonghwa was teasing you a lot, but it was still manageable. But after his mom’s passing, your relationship with Seonghwa got even worse. 

You never spoke to him about her, because you were simply not that close, but that just resulted in you and him not getting along at all. He got more snarky, which resulted in you getting more snarky.. And now whenever you two spoke, it was always with a hint of teasing and/or mockering. 

You jug to the door as a knock echoes through your apartment, and you open up to see Seonghwa looking unsatisfied on the other side. You can already hear him complain about having to walk up a few sets of stairs, so you turn around before he opens his mouth.

“I’ll be ready in a second.” You say as you walk away, hearing him close the front door as he enters your apartment. 

“Take your time, it’s not like we’re the only ones who aren’t there yet.” Seonghwa mumbles sarcastically, loud enough for you to hear and you bite your tongue before something slips out.

You try your best to carry most of your bags to the front door where Seonghwa is waiting, arms crossed over his chest. He’s still wearing his boots and bomber jacket, not showing any signs that he’s willing to help you carry your stuff. His hair is annoyingly perfectly set, despite it being 7 in the morning like he had all the time in the world to get dressed.

“You know we’ll only be gone for two weeks, not a year, right?” He asks as you put down the bags on the floor in front of him. 

“Seonghwa, it’s 7 in the morning. Can you at least wait until the sun is up to be a pain in my ass? How are you awake right now?” You can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth when you glance at him. 

“I’m an insomniac, this is normal.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

You’re not in the mood to continue the conversation so you go back for the last bag, carry it to the front door and Seonghwa (thankfully) helps you carry the bags down the stairs and to your car. His luggage is waiting in the lobby, he probably didn't want to carry it to your floor after traveling with it to your apartment building. 

Both of your families left for the cottage yesterday, but you and Seonghwa had to wait a day to travel because of busy schedules, and at the end of the day, it was just easier to travel together. You and Seonghwa agreed to take your car to the cottage, so you walk outside where your car is parked, and Seonghwa lunges your bags into the trunk.

“Holy shit, what did you put in this bag? A dead body?” He complains and you throw in your bags in the backseat. You open the door to the driver's seat, but look back at him as he loads the trunk.

“If we’re gonna make it through this trip, you have to stop being ironic in every sentence.” You get in the car and turn it on, hurrying to heat up the vehicle. Fog leaves your mouth as you speak, and you rub your hands to create some warmth.

“Fine,” Seonghwa simply answers before closing the trunk and making his way to the driver's seat where you are sitting. “Get out.” He looks down at you with the unreadable expression he always wears, and you scoff.

“Out? It’s my car?” You state, almost like a question. 

“Yes, but I’m driving.”

“Give me one good reason”

“Well, it’s 7 in the morning and you’re not a morning person, your road rage gets 50 times worse in the morning, especially when the roads are slippery. So you should take this as me doing you a favor. Now move.” Seonghwa cocks his head towards the passenger seat, confidently standing in the door to the driver’s seat, leaning up against the car. His face is hard to read, but every word he spoke had a truth behind it. Despite you and him not getting along, you’ve grown up close together, resulting in you knowing almost everything about each other.

A deep sigh leaves you as you step out of the car, not wanting to admit how he’s right.

“You have a lot of nerve talking like you’re the one owning this car.” You say as you enter the passenger seat, getting comfortable. 

“I just want you to be my passenger princess, is that too much to ask?” Seonghwa sends you a smirk before driving the car away from your apartment complex, and you’re headed to the cottage where both of your families are waiting for your arrival. 

A couple moments in silence pass, and the city starts to wake up as the sun brightens up your surroundings. Generic Christmas music plays on the car radio, a channel that has played ‘Last Christmas’ and ‘All I Want For Christmas’ nonstop since the middle of November. 

“Is your sister coming?” You ask, looking out of the window to your side. 

“Not this year. Her boyfriend offered her to celebrate Christmas with his family.” Seonghwa’s focus stays on the road as he answers.

Seonghwa’s sister is two years older than him, but you and her have always gotten along well. One of your fondest memories with her was when you were kids and forced Seonghwa into their mother’s clothes, and you and his sister used him as a canvas to test your makeup skills. That was the time when everything was fun and everyone got (somewhat) along. 

Not like now.

“Have you gotten better at skiing or do we get that atrocious fall again?” His voice has a tease to it as he glances over at you beside him. 

“It was a year ago, and it wasn't my fault.. I’ve gotten better.” You sound confident as you look over at Seonghwa who has an eyebrow raised suspectfully. On your last trip to the cottage with the Parks, you fell while skiing, which resulted in you being unable to walk for the rest of the trip. You promised yourself to never let that happen again.

“Oh yeah? You’ve been practicing?” He has a smug smile on his lips as he talks. 

“I’m better than you, we both know that.” A smile creeps up on your lips, doing your best to annoy him. A scoff leaves Seonghwa before he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek, and you know you said the right thing.

“That almost sounds like a bet.” He says.

“And what if it is?” You ask daringly, up for a challenge. 

Yes, you and Seonghwa knew how to bicker, but what could make you both excited was a competition. Anything from board games to extreme sports, you love competing with each other. Or hate it. Love to hate it.

Seonghwa smiles with his annoyingly straight teeth, looking over at you for a second to see if you’re serious, before nodding. “Then I hope you’re okay with losing,” He answers confidently. “What’s the challenge?”

“Who gets down the slope first. Easy.” You shrug.

“What color are we talking?”

“Black, of course.” You try to read his expression, challenging him to ride the most dangerous hill on the mountain. 

“Black? You remember the black slope on the mountain, don’t you? You wanna race down from that?” There’s something unsure about his voice, but it only makes you want to continue going through with this bet.

“Are you scared?” You tease, looking at him with a smile. Knowing Seonghwa your entire life, you know exactly what buttons to press to get your way, and when a confident chuckle leaves his body, you know this bet is on.

“Alright, sunshine, let’s do this.” He smirks, looking at you briefly.

“Anything you wanna bet?” You ask, trying to hide your excitement that he fell into your trap and agreed to this.

Seonghwa takes a few seconds to think, tapping the steering wheel before he speaks. “The loser will do what the winner says for an entire day.” He suggests. 

Somehow you expected this penalty, so you roll your eyes as a scoff leaves you. “Boring, but fine,” You say before looking over at him. “I can’t wait to make you my little puppy.” A huge smile decorates your lips at the thought of Seonghwa in the palm of your hand for 24 hours.

He has a big smile on his lips as he leans back in the driver's seat, getting comfortable. 

“Keep telling yourself that, sunshine. I already have some things in store for you.” He doesn’t even look at you while talking, but he’s wearing his confident smirk as he speaks like he’s imagining what he’ll make you do if he wins. 

You can’t wait to remove that cocky smile.

***

After a few hours of driving, you finally arrived at the cottage. There had been a delay due to some accidents on the road. The further you made it to the mountains, the slippier the roads got, resulting in a few accidents. Luckily, there were no big accidents, and you and Seonghwa made it safely to the cottage.

Your family greeted you, as well as Seonghwa’s dad.

As you mom helps you take off your jacket, she sends you the warmest smile and tells you that your room is on the first floor, which you will be sharing with Seonghwa.

“Thanks, mom.” You send her a smile back and look around the cottage. It looks the same as always. The fireplace is heating up the entire living room, and Christmas stockings for each person hanging over it, including Seonghwa’s sister and mom. There’s a smell of cinnamon hanging in the air as you grab your stuff and head upstairs to unpack. The long hallway with three doors leads you to your room, and you know your room is at the end of the hallway. You pass the closed door to Seonghwa’s room and a bathroom, already excited to have a shower in the huge shower stall. 

As you step into your room, you notice that it has the same warm tones as the rest of the house, giving off a cozy feeling. The room is furnished with a massive bed, and at the end of the room, there is a large window that provides a breathtaking view of the mountains. On the bedside table, there is a lit-up candle, adding to the room's warm and inviting atmosphere.

You throw yourself on the bed, happy to finally be at the cottage. 

This is gonna be a good trip.. hopefully

***

“Last chance to back down, sunshine.” Seonghwa looks at the slope in front of him before looking at you. A confident smile spreads on your lips, knowing you’ll win this one.

“Over my dead body, Seonghwa. I’m so excited to have you wrapped around my finger for a day.” 

It was your first official day at the cottage, and of course you and Seonghwa had to settle your little bet, trying to figure out who was best down the mountain.

“You’re a lot of talk, no bite. Let’s see how your mouth runs when you’re going to be my servant for an entire day.” He sends you a smirk. Your eyes roll back, used to these comments.

“You always claim to be a gentleman. Is this how you normally speak to girls? No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.” 

“They wouldn’t be able to handle me. Only you can.” The smirk is still evident on his lips. “Besides, I am a gentleman. In fact, I’ll even let you get 10 seconds as a head start.”

You try to read his face to see if he’s kidding, but when it looks like he means what he says, you scoff. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“I never regret anything when it comes to you.”

You both stare into each other’s eyes for a long second, and this only make you more excited. You love winning. Even better when you win over him. 

“I’ll see you down there.” You send him one last smile before making your way down the mountain. You use your poles to help increase the speed, using every opportunity to get down the mountain first. 

10 seconds isn’t a lot, but if you use them well, this win would be even easier. Wind rushes in your ears, snow flying as you go side to side down the slope. You don’t look back, not wanting to focus on Seonghwa behind you, so you stay in your own head, doing your best to come down as fast as possible. 

You feel your legs burn in the best way, having missed this feeling.

The feeling of being free and no one telling you to stop. The wind blows faster as you move quicker down the slope, following the trail. Suddenly, you see a figure, and lo and behold, Seonghwa is next to you. You can’t see his face due to his helmet, but you bet he's sending you a smile behind the glass. He sends you a wave before he passes you on his snowboard, and suddenly he’s in the front. 

Your poles help you increase the speed even more, and you bend your knees to go even faster. Further down, you start to see the finish, and despite being behind Seonghwa, you still have a chance. He moves quick and even manages to be slightly daring on the way down, but you can take him.

You’re sure of it.

Well, that’s until a kid suddenly falls in front of you, and you quickly have to make your way around them. You make a turn, a little too sharp, and pass the kid lying in the snow. The last thing you see is Seonghwa reaching the bottom of the slope before you fall forward and roll a few meters in the snow. Confused, you lay still for a few moments, trying to gather what just happened. All you see is white from the snow until a figure comes into sight.

“Are you okay?” Seonghwa’s concerned voice suddenly speaks, and you look up to see him hurry to you. You try to move, realizing you’ve somehow lost both of your skis in your fall.

“I’m fine, ow.” A sharp pain shocks through your leg, starting from your ankle. The pain is enough to suddenly send a stinging feeling in your eyes, tears slowly forming. 

“Is this how you make me feel bad for winning?” Seonghwa tries to help you up from the snow, grabbing you under your arms.

“It doesn’t count, I fell. We should try again to see- OW!” 

Another sharp pain shocks you, even worse than before, and you give up trying to get up this way. You sit up, no visible injuries, only the pain in your ankle. 

“Can you stand up?” He asks, looking down at you. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Get on my back.” Seonghwa moves in front of you, kneeling down so you can jump on his back. You shake your head, not wanting to admit how bad your ankle hurts.

“No, it’s fine.” You try to stand up, but wince when the pain only gets worse.

“Can you stop being stubborn and let me help you? Get on my back.” His voice is serious, and it’s clear you won’t get it your way. You do your best to get on his back without putting too much pressure on your leg, and he stands up with you. He holds you under your knees while your arms hold around his neck. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah..”

He manages to get you to a bench, and after a few moments of him checking up on you, looking for any visible damages, it’s clear that the pain in your ankle is getting worse. You (or more like Seonghwa) make the decision not to ski anymore, so he ends up carrying you to the cottage. 

You feel grateful on Seonghwa’s behalf that it’s close to the ski resort so he won’t have to carry you too far. Both of you still in your ski clothing, you know everything is heavier than normal. 

And despite you telling him that it’s fine and that you can call for someone else to help you, he acts like he doesn’t hear you and continues to carry you home. 

Not a word is said between you, he makes his way inside the cottage with you on his back. He helps you out of your jacket and ski pants, so you’re left with your long-sleeved shirt and leggings. He quickly takes off his own ski clothing before suddenly carrying you bridal style, making his way to the stairs. 

Your arm encircles his neck as he carefully walks up the stairs, ensuring your foot doesn't touch anything.

“You don’t have to do this.” You almost whisper.

“I know.” He responds, seeing the door to your room. He walks in and puts you on the bed softly. You wince when you move your ankle, and Seonghwa notices immediately. “Where does it hurt?”

“My ankle, and down to the heel.” You point exactly where it hurts, and he looks at your foot before grabbing his phone from his pocket.

“I’ll be right back,” Is the only thing he says before he makes his way out of your room and you hear him walk down the stairs. You have no idea what he’s doing or what you’re waiting for. You just use this moment to be thankful that you didn’t get hurt anywhere else.

After a few minutes, you hear Seonghwa’s voice get closer as he makes his way up the stairs. You hear him talking on the phone.

“Yes.. Alright. No, it looks a little swollen. Okay, thank you.” He appears at your door with some ice in a towel and walks closer to your bed. He sits down by your legs and places the ice on your ankle. “Here, keep this on for 15 minutes and then off for 15 minutes. Then repeat as much as possible.” 

“Who’d you talk to?” You ask.

“I called the local doctor. If it gets worse you have to do a checkup, but for now, you just have to rest. Try not to walk on your foot, so call for me if you need anything.” He looks at you briefly before standing up. You’ve never seen this side of Seonghwa before, and having him take care of you like this, is making you feel something strange in your stomach. 

You look up at him from the bed, not knowing what to say. “Thank you.” You barely whisper.

He sends you a quick and awkward smile before he turns around and walks out of your room. He closes the door behind him, and you realize you’re stuck in bed after a fall, just like last year. You sigh, annoyed that this happened, but there isn’t much you can do about it. 

Laying in your bed, you suddenly feel your eyes getting heavier. It isn’t like you have anywhere else to go, so you use this opportunity to close your eyes and take a nap. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and you allow yourself to sleep until you wake up.

***

It’s still bright outside when your eyes open, but when you look at the clock on your nightstand, you realize that you’ve been sleeping for a few hours. You don’t hear a sound from the rest of the house, and you wonder if Seonghwa left or if he’s asleep as well.

There’s still a sharp pain in your ankle, the ice has melted a bit. You sigh and look around the room. There isn't much to do when you’re stuck here. But the dryness in your mouth tempts you to leave your bed and get something to drink.

You know Seonghwa said to call for him if you needed anything, but a quick run to the kitchen couldn’t cause any more damage to your ankle, right? Besides, maybe he’s sleeping, and you don’t want to wake him up.

You manage to get out of bed, limping down the silent hallway. Thankful for the staircase, it helps you take it slow and hold you as you make your way down the stairs. It does hurt when you put pressure on it, but not as much as the fall last year. 

Finally, you make your way to the kitchen. It’s a little cold down here, so you want to prepare something hot. Drinking hot drinks after skiing reminds you of when you were younger. The feeling of the warmth running through your body and-

“What part of ‘call me if you need anything’ didn’t you understand?” Seonghwa’s voice makes you jump and you look behind you to see him enter the kitchen.

“I was just getting something to drink.” You mumble, standing by the cabinet to get a mug.

“You can’t walk on your foot.” He sounds like an annoyed dad as he finds a stool and places it by the kitchen island. He cocks his head towards the stool and you sit down on it. He’s showing a very bossy side of himself, and you’re not sure how to respond to it.

“I made it down here, didn’t I?” You mumble mostly to yourself, but he hears and sighs deeply.

“It’s not gonna heal if you walk,” He makes his way to the fridge and looks inside. “What do you want?”

“Hot cocoa.”

He looks back at you. “You couldn’t have said water?” His brow shoots up, looking slightly annoyed, but you shake your head.

“You asked what I want and I want hot cocoa.” Your voice is talking at a low volume, and you’re sure that if you were a dog, your ears would be hanging low and your tail would be between your legs. Seonghwa takes a second to think for himself, watching you before another sigh leaves him. 

“I guess I’m making you hot cocoa then.” He tilts his head to the side before grabbing a mug and finding the ingredients to make you some hot cocoa. You don’t say much as he prepares it, enjoying seeing him do something like this for you. 

“I thought since I lost our bet that I was being your servant for the day.” You tease, trying to fill the heavy air with some conversation.

“Well, that was before you decided to fall and make yourself useless,” He looks back at you and sends you a teasing smirk. “Besides, I’ll just save it for another day. Don’t think I’ll forget, sunshine.” 

You can't help but smile at his teasing. Usually, you want to rip his hair out, but right now, you're actually enjoying being in the same room as him.

He’s making your hot cocoa, and you feel slightly useless, sitting and staring at him. The couch is in your sight, so you step down from the stool, but as soon as your (healthy) foot touches the floor, Seonghwa’s eyes are on you. He stares at you as you freeze, scared you’ve done something wrong.

“What?” You ask. 

“Where are you going?” He’s quick to ask back.

“To the.. couch, if that’s okay with you?” 

Seonghwa doesn’t waste a second, dropping the tablespoon on the counter, taking you up bridal style again, and walking towards the couch.

“Seonghwa, you don’t have to do this,” You know saying it won’t make him stop. He’s as stubborn as you. He carefully puts you down on the couch, raising your leg so it rests on the extended part of the couch before he runs back to the kitchen. He appears a few seconds later with your hot cocoa in hand and places it on the table in front of you. “Thank you.”

“Anything else?” He asks, standing up in front of you. You look behind him at the TV, your eyes catching the remote lying on top of a shelf behind him.

“The remote..” You point.

He hands you the remote. “Alright.. If I see you walking by yourself again I’ll chain you to the couch, understood?” He looks you deep in the eyes, and for some reason, you almost think he’s serious. 

“Yes, sir.” You say teasingly, and he scoffs at you before disappearing again with a smile. 

A smile that looks dangerously good.

***

Every year you go out to have dinner at the fancy restaurant in the city close to the cottage. But due to your little stunt on the mountain yesterday, you all had to go for dinner today, as you couldn’t possibly use your foot. But it’s already getting better, and it isn’t as swollen as yesterday, so you felt even more ready for a nice evening out.

Maybe all the carrying from Seonghwa did help after all.

It’s also a fun excuse to dress up for a night and eat delicious food, so you remembered to pack the fancy dress you bought for this special occasion. A maroon-colored dress with a bare back, dropped shoulders and it hugs your body perfectly, ending on the middle of your thighs. You look in the mirror one last time before making your way downstairs to the others. It’s fun to see your parents in their fancy attire, looking like they just fell in love with each other again. 

You smile to yourself as you look around and immediately notice a set of eyes staring you down.

Seonghwa is leaning against the back of one of the couches, adjusting the cuffs on his shirt as his gaze falls on you. You can't help but smirk in response. His eyes meet yours, and you can't resist glancing down at his attire.

He is in his black blazer with black pants, but instead of a regular button-down underneath, he is wearing something a runway model would wear. A white silk shirt with ruffles and lace is showing under his jacket, and no part of you is surprised by his choice of clothes. Whenever he can wear something a little different, he will, and he always pulls it off. 

Is he the biggest pain in the ass? Absolutely. 

Is he also very attractive? Oh, absolutely.

It’s actually irritating how beautiful this man is, but no way in hell you would ever tell him that. He knows he looks good, no need to boost his ego.

You decide to look away from him before you make yourself too obvious, as you get the sense that it’s time to leave soon. You decide to wait outside by the door as you’re waiting for the two families to leave. Suddenly, a presence is standing next to you, but you don’t need to look to see who joined you.

“Like what you’re seeing?” You ask teasingly, not even sparing him a glance.

“You look like my dream girl.” Seonghwa says confidently as he steps in front of you, looking down into your eyes.

His tall frame takes up most of the space in your sight, and you look up to meet his dark eyes. For some unknown reason you feel your heart beating faster, and it only increases when he puts some hair behind your ear.

“Really?” You manage to get out.

“I never said what kind of dream,” he says, slowly leaning in to whisper in your ear. “You’re my fucking nightmare.”

Seonghwa leans back to send you a wink along with a smirk before turning around to walk away and enter one of the cars waiting outside, leaving you behind, baffled. You almost want to laugh at how ridiculous he is, mentally cursing yourself for showing a slight reaction to his words. You brush off the feeling inside you and you enter another car waiting outside to take you to the restaurant in the city. 

You all drive for a few minutes, each family in each car, before entering the city with Christmas lights hanging everywhere. The restaurant is also decorated outside with lights, a group of Christmas carols singing on the other side of the street. 

It’s not like you’re from a rich family that goes to expensive restaurants a lot, but this was a tradition you’ve always shared with the Parks, so you would of course do it again this year. 

A male waiter follows you to your table, and you notice it’s a rather busy night, not seeing a single empty table. Christmas lights are decorating the ceiling, as well as generic Christmas instrumentals fill the air. A table for five comes into view with lit-up candles, and you find your way to the end. Your parents are busy talking with Seonghwa’s dad, laughing at something that happened before you arrived earlier today, leaving you in your own world. The waiter hands out a menu for you, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes linger on you for a few seconds, his dimples showing when you make eye contact. You can’t help but smile back at his warm eyes, feeling the heat in your cheeks. He disappears again after having handed out the menus to the rest of the table, and you look across the table by chance and notice how Seonghwa’s eyes are staring at you. 

Something you can’t read is evident in his gaze, but you choose to quickly shoot your eyes to the menu. For some unknown reason, Seonghwa is making looking at him harder than usual, and you can’t exactly pinpoint what it is. 

A few moments pass, and the waiter comes back to take everyone's orders. He saves you for last, sending you a warm smile.

“And what can I get for you, miss?” His dimples even show when he’s talking. 

“I’m torn between the smoked salmon and the scallops.. Do you have a recommendation?” You send him a smile.

“Ohh, that’s a tough one.. Personally, I would be in for salmon, so that would be my choice. But that depends on you, of course.” He smirks, trying to continue the casual talk between you. You’re too lost in your conversation with him, figuring out what to eat, to realize the piercing eyes across from you. Seonghwa’s eyes shoot between you and the waiter, for some reason feeling annoyed with him. 

You end up choosing the smoked salmon, and handing him back the menu. A wink is sent in your direction before he makes his way to the kitchen. Casual talk then spreads across the table. Mr. Park looks in your direction, wanting to hear how you’ve been doing since the last time you spoke.

“I’ve been doing very well, Mr. Park, thank you for asking.” You respond to the kind man across the table.

“That’s good! And you’re still enjoying your job?” 

"Definitely. It is a bit far away though, so my car is very necessary. But it is having a hard time driving, especially in the winter months, so I’m considering saving up for a new car or finding a job a bit closer.” You answer, your parents adding to the conversation and carrying it on. 

“Maybe you should ask the waiter what he thinks you should do.” Seonghwa says across from you, low enough not to cause any attention to him from the rest of the table, but you hear him loud and clear. 

Your eyes glare at him, but he only responds with an annoying smile. You roll your eyes, trying to focus on the conversation between your parents. 

A few moments later your food arrives, and the salmon is placed in front of you. You all start eating, and you do your best to ignore the eyes looking at you from time to time across the table. 

Giving him attention will only make it worse, you think.

“How are you enjoying the salmon, miss?” A voice speaks behind you, and you look up to see the waiter sending you another smile. Cheeks heating up again, you do your best to answer confidently. 

“It’s really good, definitely the right decision.” 

“I’m glad, personally it’s my favorite item on the menu.” He tells you.

“I totally understand why, the greens on the side really complement it as well.” You add to the conversation. The kind waiter is about to answer when a voice interrupts.

“Waiter?” Seonghwa’s voice cuts through, stealing your attention. “I ordered my steak to be medium-well, this steak is cooked medium-rare.” He points at his food, eying the waiter.

An apologetic expression spreads on the waiter's face. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take it back to the kitchen for you.” He sends Seonghwa the best smile he can manage, before disappearing into the kitchen with Seonghwa’s food.

“Why did you do that?” Your eyes are locked on Seonghwa, trying to speak in a low voice so you won’t draw attention.

“I just want what I ordered.” Seonghwa shrugs before bringing his wine glass to his lips. 

“There’s no need to be an ass about it.” 

A smirk tugs on Seonghwa’s lips. “Aww, I’m sorry.. Am I making it hard for your boyfriend?”

“What is wrong with you?”

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"Would it kill you to see me be just a little happy?"

A scoff leaves his mouth. “Welcome to the real world. Maybe you’ll notice how everything isn’t perfect, sunshine.”

You want to reach across the table and rip that annoying smile off his face. Everything inside of you is boiling, even looking at him is making you feel insane. It takes everything in you not to say something rude because you’re all adults here (even if some aren't acting like it) and you want this trip to have good memories. 

You grab your wine glass and gulp down the last bit before heading to the bathrooms. 5 minutes away from Seonghwa would be enough not to scream at him. 

Luckily it isn’t filled with people in the bathroom, letting you get some time to breathe for yourself. 

You knew Seonghwa had gone through a hard time the last few years since his mom died, so you somehow always had an apology for him in your head, why he was acting like he was. But he was going personal tonight, and you didn’t know why. It wasn’t an excuse to be an asshole. 

You saw the rage in your eyes as you looked at yourself, but suddenly, your attention was stolen by the door opening to the bathroom. Seonghwa’s large frame entered the room, your eyes rolling at the sight of him.

“Did I say something to trigger you?” He spoke in a low voice.

“You do that all the time, Seonghwa. Don’t act like this is any different.” You didn’t spare him a glance as you spoke, keeping your eyes on yourself in the mirror.

“You haven’t walked away like that since I said your hair looked as fried as a burnt fry at McDonald's.” He calls back to a moment a few years ago when you were also fed up with his teasing. It wasn’t even that deep of a comment, you were just not feeling it that day.

“I guess I’m not in the mood for this right now.” You respond with a lower voice. Through the mirror, you look to see if any of the stalls are taken and if anyone is listening to your conversation. It doesn’t look like it. “Also, you’re in the women's bathroom. You can’t be here.”

“Well, I upset you and wanted to talk it out.”

A part of you wants to laugh. Never have those words left his mouth.

“How mature of you.”

“I’m sorry.” His footsteps are coming closer to you, and suddenly you see him in the mirror behind you. He actually sounds like he’s apologizing, and not saying this mockingly. It catches you off guard for a few seconds, but you make eye contact with him through the mirror. He’s watching you carefully like he’s afraid to say something else to upset you.

“Didn’t think you were capable of apologizing.” You want to joke, but the air between you is too heavy.

“Maybe you’ll learn some new things about me on this trip.” He says with his hands resting in the front pockets of his pants. 

“Maybe.” You shrug, finally turning around towards him. “If anything, you should apologize to the waiter.” You can’t help but feel sorry for the waiter, having to run around because of Seonghwa.

“I don’t care about the waiter.” His voice is cold.

“And you care about me?” You say with a laugh, expecting him to say ‘no’ immediately, but when silence surrounds the two of you, you suddenly don’t know what to say. His eyes are just watching you, studying your face and it makes you feel a certain way you haven’t felt before. A feeling you can't pinpoint what is. 

“You know what this dress needs?” He suddenly says, completely changing the subject.

“What?”

“A necklace.” He looks down on your bare neck. 

You know this dress calls for a necklace, and you mentally cursed at yourself when you realized you had left your bag of jewelry on your desk. Luckily, that is the only thing you’ve forgotten (hopefully).

“I forgot all of my jewelry at home.” You shrug.

His eyes focus on your neck for a short moment before he reaches behind his own neck. Suddenly, a necklace you didn’t know he was wearing came into sight and he held it out in front of him. A silver necklace with white pearl pendants.

“Turn around.”

You shake your head. “I’m not wearing your-”

“Turn around.” He says more firmly, and you do as he says. Your eyes focus on your neck as he places the necklace on you, and you immediately notice how well it compliments your dress. Seonghwa’s warm fingers lightly touch the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This feels incredibly intimate, especially because you notice the way his eyes roam over you.

“It was my mothers.” Seonghwa says in almost a whisper, eyes still locked on your neck through the mirror. Your breath hitches, suddenly feeling like you shouldn’t be wearing this.

“Seonghwa.. I can’t wear this.” Your fingers touch the pendant. 

“I know she would’ve loved to see you in it.” A small smile tugs on his lips, obviously thinking about his mom. You don’t know what to say. His mom was the nicest woman you’ve ever met, and you do miss her dearly. You can’t even imagine how Seonghwa feels. “She really liked you, you know.” His eyes dart up, meeting yours through the mirror. 

“I liked her too.” You send him a smile, remembering all the good times you've shared with her.

“And I know she would've chopped my hands off if she knew I made you upset. So I’m genuinely sorry.” He looks apologetic, not an ounce of teasing evident in his voice. You’ve never shared a moment like this with him, and if you were close, you would’ve hugged him and told him everything was okay. But you can’t remember the last time you shared affection with him, so you just try your best to send him a smile through the mirror.

“Thank you.” Your voice is a whisper, and he steps closer to you to remove some hair on your shoulder. This makes the necklace more apparent on your neck, and you smile at the view. “It’s beautiful.”

You just now notice how close you are to him, slightly feeling his front against your bare back. He has a perfect height when he stands next to you, and even more when he stands behind you like now. 

His eyes are all over you through the mirror, and the feeling is not something you ever expected to feel so exciting. You can’t help but look back at him, seeing how good his suit looks on him. You stare at the shirt he’s wearing under his jacket, and in this light, you notice that it’s made of sheer fabric, making it slightly see-through. 

You hate how much you’re staring, but you can’t help it. And when he’s staring back at you, the same look in his eyes, you know you’re in too deep.

The door to the bathroom suddenly opens, and a lady stops at the door, looking confused as if she didn't think she entered the right bathroom. Seonghwa looks at her and then back to you through the mirror.

“I better go.” He says above a whisper, looking down at you one last time before heading out of the bathroom. You don’t pay any attention to the lady entering, only focused on what just happened between you and Seonghwa. 

It takes you a moment to get back to your senses, but you eventually get there and head back to your table.

The rest of the dinner went differently. Every time you looked across the table, you'd meet Seonghwa's eyes. You'd both hold the gaze for longer than you'd anticipate, feeling heat in your cheeks before darting your eyes away from him.

You didn’t see much of the waiter for the rest of the night, Seonghwa probably scaring him away from your table. 

When you made it home to the cottage, you all started getting ready for bed. It was getting late, and you were getting tired as well. Coming up from the stairs, you walked towards your room, when suddenly a hand grabbed your wrist. Surprised, you stop your tracks and look to see Seonghwa appear from his room. His eyes met yours in an instant, standing close to you.

“I apologized to the waiter. Happy?” He said with a low voice. He almost sounds defeated, like he lost an important battle, but you can’t help but enjoy it a little bit.

“I didn’t think you cared about him?” You said, finding it new that he’s apologizing.

“I don’t, not in the slightest. Couldn’t care less about what he’s feeling.” He shrugged, and you wanted to roll your eyes before he spoke again. “But I’m trying to do the right thing here. Even if I was just making him do his job, I could’ve been a little nicer. I’ll admit.” He kept the eye contact and the soft grasp around your wrist, making you focus on him.

A smile spreads on your lips. “Should I get used to this? You apologizing? Because I kinda like it.” You tease. He scoffs, looking down at you with the same look in his eyes as earlier. The one where he studies you to the smallest details, somehow making you nervous. 

“A little dangerous starting to like something that has to do with me, don’t you think?” He teases back, a smirk growing on his face. The dimmed light in the hallway makes everything seem slightly more intimate, and with the way you’re feeling when he’s looking at you like this, you know you have to keep your shit together. 

This is Park Seonghwa. 

Yes, he has helped you with your ankle and whatever.

But you’d never be able to actually get along. You’re built to argue with him. Tease, mock, pick on, just like he does with you. The two of you don’t know any better, but somehow, looking at him right now, you can’t do that. You don’t even know what to do, because you’ve never felt this way when looking at him. 

And it’s a brand new territory.

His free hand raises, and you do nothing but wait to see where it lands, when he suddenly traces his finger from your jaw and down to your neck. You feel the necklace move under his touch, suddenly reminded that you’re wearing it. 

“Oh, the necklace.” You put your hands behind your neck to take it off, but Seonghwa shakes his head, taking your hands down. 

“Let me.” He says, and you turn around, collecting your hair to one side. Waiting for him to take it off, you suddenly feel his hands on your waist, turning you slightly so he has better light. But the feeling of his hands on your waist makes your heart beat faster, leaving burning marks where his fingers touched. His fingers are on your skin as he removes the necklace sends shivers down your spine, and the necklace is gone. 

But Seonghwa notices the way you’re reacting to his touch, smiling to himself as you turn back around to face him. 

“Thanks for letting me borrow it.” You smile.

“Always.” 

With one last look, you decide to go into your room, scared of what could happen if you stayed out there any longer. 

***

You took a deep breath as you sat down on the bench at the end of the ski slope. You took a moment to watch people coming down the mountain on their skis or snowboards while you enjoyed finally being out again.

You had looked forward to this, spending the entire day here. This was one of the main reasons you even visited this cottage every year. To ski and have fun.

What you didn’t expect was the intense pain.

In your ankle? no.

Or a little, but the pain was mostly in your stomach due to your period. 

You didn’t think it would be arriving while being on this trip, but of course, it had to arrive at this time. Therefore, you didn’t have anything prepared, other than a few emergency pads. But the pain you felt was actually the worst, making you have to take a break.

You look up to see a person get close at an awfully fast speed on their snowboard, making you think they’ll crash into you but they stop right in front of you, making snow splash everywhere. You don’t have to think twice to recognize Seonghwa’s attire in front of you.

“Asshole.” You mumble as Seonghwa takes off his helmet, smiling at his own little stunt.

“You okay?” He asks, noticing the slight discomfort on your face.

“Yeah, it’s just… my ankle.” You lie. You didn’t feel like sharing with Seonghwa what was really hurting you. And your ankle did hurt a bit, so it wasn’t a complete lie. But it was definitely mostly the pain in your stomach that held you from being on the slopes right now.

“Is it getting worse?” Seonghwa asks, suddenly being back to being your doctor. 

“Yeah.” You respond, not exactly knowing what to say.

“Are you okay, honey?” Your mom suddenly appears in her ski attire, walking over to you and Seonghwa. 

“I’m fine.” You respond shortly.

“It’s her ankle.” Seonghwa says, making you want to throw a snowball in his face. Not only because it wasn’t the entire truth, but also because you know how much your mom is concerned about your ankle. You knew she wasn’t a fan of you being on the slopes already, scared that you might get as hurt as last year.

Your mom looks at you with worry. “Darling, you should take your time to heal.” She walks closer to you. “I don’t think skiing is a good idea..” Your mom doesn't hide the look on her face. You know she’s saying this with pure love, but you don’t know what else to do. This is what you came for. But she didn’t want you to get hurt, not any more than you already are.

“What else can I do?” You ask.

“You can drive to the city?” She sounds optimistic like it’s the funniest thing to do in an area filled with slopes and snow.

“To do what?” 

“I need some new ornaments for the tree. You can drive to the city and pick some for us.” She makes it sound like it’s the best idea ever. And you’ll admit; it was better than staying home while everyone else is out in the snow. 

“Fine..” 

“I’ll come with you.” Seonghwa suddenly adds to the conversation, and you and your mom both look at him.

“Are you sure?” Your mom asks, sounding slightly confused since she knows how you and Seonghwa never spend time together voluntarily. 

“Yeah, I’m getting a little sore from all the snowboarding, I could use a break,” He smiles at your mom. “Besides, with her luck, falling two years in a row, I think it’s a good idea to have someone keep an eye on her.” He smirks in your direction, but you only send back an obvious fake smile. 

Your mom’s face, on the other hand, lights up like a Christmas tree. It’s a tradition for your mom to get a new ornament for the Christmas tree every year, so you know this means more for her than it does for the rest of you. It was a tradition she shared with Seonghwa’s mom, but your mom continued it like she still had her best friend to do it with.

“Amazing! Can’t wait to see what you guys bring back.”

***

The trip to the city went as you’d expect. It wasn’t the best time of your life, but it was nice to finally be outside. You got to see the city in daylight, but it was definitely prettier in the nighttime with all the lights lighting up the sky. 

With Seonghwa’s help, you found seven ornaments - one for each of you. You picked one for yourself and your parents, while Seonghwa picked one for himself, his dad, his sister, and his mom. They were simple, the designs looking like they were supposed to be snowflakes, but they all looked different.

While Seonghwa paid for the ornaments, you looked at other Christmas decorations. There were all kinds of decorations, everything from the most elegant and minimalistic to the downright ugly. 

You stood with an elf in your hands, admiring how cute it was when another wave of pain suddenly hit your lower region. Despite living with it for years, you somehow never get used to it. You winced in pain, trying to keep a straight face when you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder.

“You alright?” Seonghwa sounded worried, but you just nodded. You put down the elf and put on your best smile.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

As he opens the door for you, he still looks worried. You make your way to your car, and he unlocks it. Just as you grab the handle, you're hit with another wave of pain. You hold yourself on the stomach, slightly leaning forward, hoping to ease the discomfort. You quickly try to ignore the feeling and get into the car.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Seonghwa looks at you from the driver’s seat. “Are you sick? Is it your ankle?” The questions fly out of him like there’s no tomorrow, but you shake your head, not wanting to draw attention.

“No, no.. It’s fine. Just go.” 

“Do you need to pee? Are you hungry? Do you-”

“For the love of all great things, just drive, Seonghwa.” You don’t mean to make it sound rude, but the words left your mouth before you could even think.

Seonghwa responds with a deep sigh, before starting the car. “We need to get gas before we continue on, we’re running out.” 

Silence fills the air as he drives to a gas station not far away from the city. He gets out of the car and starts filling it up with the gas you need. A short moment goes by before he opens the door to reach for his wallet, but you stop him.

“I can pay for the gas.” You say, looking for your wallet in your bag. 

“It’s fine, I’ll pay. Wait here.” His voice is cold and you watch him as he makes his way into the gas station. You sigh to yourself, annoyed that you lash out without thinking, when in fact, Seonghwa was just being nice. He was probably just worried about your foot like he had been ever since you fell. He has never shown this amount of worry for you, so it did surprise you when he took so much care of you and volunteered to drive with you to the city. 

You’re too focused on your thoughts to notice Seonghwa coming back, and entering the car. You look at him but are suddenly surprised when a small white bag is placed on your lap. He turns on the engine and drives away from the gas station. 

Curious and confused, you look in the bag, and you can’t believe what you see. It’s filled with Advils, chocolate bars, juice, water, pads, and a package of menstrual cramp relief heating pads. 

You have no idea how to react. Emotions everywhere, you almost want to cry, but you don’t. You just look at him and stare at his side profile as he focuses on driving your car.

“Thank you..” You say with a low voice.

“You’re welcome.”

Another silence.

“How did you know?” You ask.

“I’ve grown up with a mom and an older sister. I’m very much aware of periods and that people with periods go through pain.” His voice is turning softer as he speaks, not as cold as before. You look into the bag again and grab the heating pads, not sure how to use them.

You’ve used your heating pillow for ages, but of course, forgot to bring it on the trip.

“They heat up and relax the muscles in your lower abdomen so you’ll be in less pain,” Seonghwa explains like he knows how to read your mind. “I’ve heard. I haven’t tried it for myself, for obvious reasons, but my sister always uses these.” His gaze shifts between the heating pads in your hands and the road.

“Thank you..” You say once again. You feel like you’re thanking him a lot on this trip. “And I’m sorry.” You look at him, feeling bad for snapping at him when he just wanted to know if you were okay. His eyes meet yours, and after a few seconds, he sends you a smile.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” 

The annoying smile of his sends a feeling to your stomach again. The same warm, strange feeling you also felt earlier with him this week. Your breath hitches from the feeling, and you shake your head to yourself.

It’s nothing.

Don’t think about it.

***

The day after, you decided to take things a bit slow. You wanted to join the others on the slopes, but your body was simply too worn out. But that didn’t stop you from spending time at the café, located at the bottom of the slope. You decided to bring a book as you sat in the corner, watching people enter from being up on the slopes. They were all in their ski attire, ready to conquer the slopes after getting something to drink. 

The door to the cozy cafe opened and you'd recognize that helmet anywhere. Seonghwa entered by himself, taking the helmet off his head as he walked to the desk to order. You saw his eyes roaming the café, so you decided to focus on your book, deciding to look busy. You only read a few lines before a voice caught your attention.

“Hey, sunshine,” Seonghwa’s voice said, placing his helmet on the other bench at your table. “What are you doing here?”

“Got bored at the cottage.” You shrug.

He took off his big jacket and placed it on one of your seats as well. “Mind if I join you here?” Seonghwa asks as he basically has already taken over half the space at your table.

“No, go ahead.” You answer before he goes back to the desk to order. Your eyes are about to scan the book again when a new voice interrupts.

“Excuse me..” The voice says, and you look up to see a girl around the same age as you. She looks sweet and pretty, and very innocent. “Sorry, but are you dating him?” She asks shyly while pointing at Seonghwa. 

“Uhm, no.” You shake your head, slightly confused.

“Do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

“I don't think so.” You explain, telling her the truth. You have no idea what his dating life is like, but you don't think he is.

“Oh, okay.. I just didn’t want to shoot my shot if you were his girlfriend.” She smiles, before excusing herself again. Your eyes watch as she approaches Seonghwa, but you’re unable to hear what is being said between them. All you see is Seonghwa suddenly darting his eyes at you as the girl is speaking, and you look back into your book. You’re not getting further with your book, because Seonghwa comes back not long after.

“Here.” He says as he places a mug of hot cocoa in front of you. He puts one down for himself as well before sitting down at the table. You don’t recall asking him to get you this, but the fact that he did it was nice.. or whatever.

“Thank you,” Your eyes scan the cocoa, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon. “So.. Did you get her number?” You ask, eying him carefully to hear his response.

“What?” He responded like he didn’t just talk to a girl who was clearly interested in him.

“That girl.. She came to me and asked if you were dating anyone and wanted to shoot your shot with you. So?”

He shook his head, grabbing a spoon to scoop some whipped cream from his drink. “I didn’t get her number. I thanked her for the opportunity, but I’m not interested.”

You don’t know why but this makes you slightly confused. Everyone could tell that Seonghwa was a beautiful human being, and it’s not the first time you've seen someone attempt to flirt with him. This makes you realize that you don’t know anything about his relationships, hookups, or people he has crushed on in the past. He had never brought anyone with him as his partner, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one. You’ve just never heard about them.

“Why? You have someone waiting at home?” You ask, feeling weirdly comfortable having this conversation.

“I don’t know, do I?” A smirk tugs on his lips before he brings the spoon with whipped cream to his mouth. Your brows shoot together, feeling confused. 

“How should I know?” You ask as you grab a spoonful of whipped cream as well. 

“I don’t know. But to answer your question; I’m not interested in anyone. As I’ve said before, you’re the only one that can handle me.” The smirk only grows on his face, and you know what he’s doing. 

It wasn’t new for Seonghwa to throw these kinds of comments your way, especially with a smirk evident on his face. He knows sending flirty remarks your way would make you uncomfortable (in the beginning), but you’ve gotten so used to it that you can’t help but laugh. It’s obvious that he only does it to be annoying, but a sarcastic laugh still finds its way out of you.

“Right, could you imagine? Us dating?” You joke.

“Would it be terrible?” He asks, teeth showing from smiling.

“We would rip off each other's heads within a week.” You answer confidently. 

“What would you do if we got married?”

“Divorce you.”

This makes him laugh, a sound that is so incredibly addicting that it’s annoying. Yet you can't help but smile.

“See that’s what I mean. Only you would say that.” Seonghwa argues like he’s actually serious about this topic.

“Like you wouldn’t do the same.” You roll your eyes, scooping another spoonful of whipped cream. You knew that if you and Seonghwa were married, it would probably turn into a competition of who could sign the divorce papers first. Yes, you and Seonghwa have gotten closer on this trip, and you’ll admit; he has been doing some very nice things to you. But you’re convinced he would never actually consider taking this a step further. You’re not his type, you know that. 

Seonghwa leans forward towards you, speaking in a volume that makes this seem like an important topic.

“Be honest with me, you couldn’t ever see us dating?”

The fact that he’s still talking about this, is making you question everything.

“I don’t know, is it important?” You shrug.

“It’s a simple question.” He leans his head slightly to the side, questioning you. 

“Could you see us dating?” You ask back.

“I asked you first.”

He leans back in his seat, waiting for your answer. The answer is simple, right? Yet you don’t know why you’re not spitting out a hard “no”. Instead, you’re taking your time, reading his body language, trying to figure out how to answer this the best way.

“I mean.. There’s a lot of things to take into consideration when talking about topics like that- what?” You ask in the middle of your sentence when you see a smile growing on his face like he’s entertained.

“Just answer yes or no.” 

“Then… No.” You finally answer.

“Why not?” 

Growing tired of him questioning you about this like it’s actually important, you release a deep sigh and close your book. “Because you’re a menace 92% of the time.” 

The topic is making your hands sweaty and your mouth dry for some unknown reason. You grab your hot cocoa after eating most of the whipped cream on top, blowing on the drink so you won’t burn yourself. 

“And the remaining 8%?” He asks, also taking his hot cocoa in his hands.

You scan his face for a moment, trying to figure out the best answer without boosting his ego too much. “You’re bearable.”

“I can work with that.” He shrugs with a smirk before taking a sip of his drink.

***

Seonghwa decided to join you on your way back to the cottage after drinking the hot cocoa. You don’t mind it, now having a feeling that you can actually have a normal conversation with him.

It’s a Christmas miracle. 

“Have you ever watched the Gringe? You two are like the same person.” Seonghwa enters the living room and throws himself on the couch next to you.

Nevermind.

You roll your eyes, not sparing him a glance. "Funny." You say. 

You fix the heating pad on your stomach, feeling the pain slowly fading away. He notices your hands on your stomach and the crumbled chocolate wrap next to you.

“You know, there’s another way to get rid of period pain.” He says, and you feel his eyes on you. 

"I can’t believe that I’m asking you, out of all people, but what?” You turn your head to look at him, and a smirk suddenly makes its way to his lips.

“Orgasms.”

You throw your head back along with a deep sigh. “You just had to, didn’t you? You just had to make it sexual?” Your reaction makes him laugh, a sound you’ve gotten awfully used to the last few days. 

“I’m being deadly serious, though. It’s scientifically proven.” He sits up more straight and turns to look at you. “It obviously doesn’t have to be done by a partner, you can do it by yourself. I’m just saying..” He ends it with a shrug and holds his hands up in defense.

“Well thank you, but no thank you.”

“Just thought I’d share my knowledge with you.. Also to let you know that I completely understand if the pain gets too much and you need to.. you know.” The smirk is evident in his voice, but you just send him a glare.

“I repeat.. Thank you, but no thank you.”

“Alright..” He lies down on the couch again and a silence surrounds you. You turn your head to look at him but are met with a smirk and you don’t have to think twice to know what he’s thinking about. 

“Seonghwa, I will knock you on your fat ass if you even think about it.”

Another laugh escapes him, and you can’t help but smile at the sound. “Alright, alright.. Sorry.”

Before you actually knock him out, your parents enter the cottage along with Seonghwa’s dad. Not even a minute goes by before your mom is in the living room, a huge smile on her face and eyes on you.

“Honey! You never guess what happened!” Her excitement steals both your and Seonghwa’s attention. “We were at the ski resort, and we met the waiter from dinner the other night!” She’s practically jumping and clapping, overly excited about this.

“Oh, really?” You say, slightly confused. You haven’t thought much about the waiter since the dinner. He was really cute and seemed to give you a new form of attention, but for some reason, your mind has been a little.. occupied the last few days.

“Yes, and he immediately recognized us and he asked for your number!” Her words almost make your eyes pop out of your skull.

“My number?” 

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted it, but I saw the way he looked at you at dinner,” She wiggled her eyebrows, acting like the ultimate wingwoman. “Instead I asked for his on your behalf, then you can text him if you’d like. He said he would like to take you to dinner before we leave.” She handed you a napkin with a number and his name on it, and you looked at it for a few seconds, contemplating how you should feel.

“Oh.. Cool, thanks.”

You were happy, of course you were. A guy who looks incredibly cute is requesting to take you out to dinner. What’s not to like?

But for some reason, a teeny tiny piece of you don’t want this. But a dinner with him won’t hurt anyone, right? 

***

It’s been a few days since you got the waiter’s phone number. You made the decision to text him later that night, thanking him for being such a good waiter on the first night. The conversation then escalated to him inviting you to dinner the day after tomorrow, on the 23rd. A lot of thoughts roamed your mind, wondering if you should do it or not. He was really nice, and seemed like a good guy, so why weren’t you ecstatic about this?

You ended up saying yes, throwing yourself out there. It’s just a date. Besides, he probably lives in the area and you live a few hours away. Most likely, this won’t even work out, but a fun night out could be needed.

You’ve also had a nice few days, feeling extremely happy. Your period is over, your ankle is feeling better and everyone seems to be in a good mood. The other day, your mom even commented on the fact that you and Seonghwa aren’t bickering as much as you used to. You didn’t know what to say about that, quickly changing the topic of conversation.

It’s not like you had an answer to that, anyway. 

You walk down the stairs, about to head to the kitchen when something catches your eye. You stop in your tracks and look into the living room. All by himself, Seonghwa is standing next to the Christmas tree, looking at one specific ornament. Slowly, you make your way towards him, watching as his fingers trace the ornament.

“Hi.” You say in a low volume, trying not to startle him. He looks back at you, putting on his best smile, but you can tell something is roaming his mind.

“Hey.” His gaze returns to the ornament, and you quickly realize it’s the one he chose for his mom when you and him were shopping for Christmas ornaments. It’s elegant, simple, and definitely her style.

“It’s pretty.” You say, keeping your eyes on the snowflake.

“Yeah.. I feel like she would have chosen this one.” Seonghwa’s eyes still don't leave it, and he’s watching it with so much love. Like he’s actually looking at his mom.

“She did. Through you.” You look away from the ornament and turn to look at him. Even more love shines through his eyes, and you can’t stop looking at him. You can tell he is thinking about his mom and all she did for him - which was a lot. She was a wonderful mom who did anything for her kids. When Seonghwa was a kid, she never missed a football game, she supported him and his sister with everything and kept a smile on her face during anything. 

“She loved Christmas,” Seonghwa says, clearly thinking of memories with his mom. “She loved coming here to the cottage, celebrating the holidays with you and your family. It was when she was the happiest.” His gaze finally leaves the snowflake decorating the tree, looking to meet your eyes.

You can’t help but think of the memories with her either. “She defined Christmas for me. I remember when we were visiting you guys in the summertime, she would make us look through the photo albums of earlier Christmases.” You find yourself laughing with Seonghwa at the memory, clearly remembering how much she loves Christmas.

“Yeah.. she was really into making memories. She loved it,” His smile froze before it slowly fell again, something clearly replacing the happy thoughts. “Ironic, how that’s the only thing I have of her now.” Sadness appears in his voice, as his eyes go back to the ornament. 

“That’s not true, Seonghwa,” You shake your head, suddenly getting the urge to grab his hand, but you don’t. “You have all the pictures, you wear her necklace, and you have us. And I know she’s here with us. Do you really think she wouldn’t be here with you for Christmas? She would never do that.” You have to fight yourself not to have tears in your eyes, but it gets even harder when Seonghwa looks at you with glistening eyes. 

Seonghwa takes in a deep breath of air and looks up at the ceiling. He blinks a few times like he’s trying his best not to cry in front of you, but you somehow wish he would. You want him to know that it’s okay. That it’s okay to cry and miss her. Because you do too, and you can’t even imagine how much pain he feels every day, not being able to touch her. Talk to her. Be with her.

He releases his breath of air and looks back down at you. “Thank you.”

His eyes are still glistening, but it feels nice talking to him about this. You’ve never talked much about his mother’s passing, not being good at expressing emotions to one another. But this trip has opened up something for both of you, allowing you to talk about your feelings. 

Feeling slightly restless, you send him one last smile, before turning around. 

“Wait..” Seonghwa stops you before you manage to walk away, and you turn around as you wait for him to say something. His eyes flicker for a moment as he tries to figure out how to word the thoughts in his head. “I’m sorry.”

The apology came out of nowhere, making your brows shoot together in question.

“For?”

He takes another moment to collect his thoughts.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting the last few..” He looks up to think but scoffs at himself. “The last few years, at this point.” He looks deep into your eyes, wanting you to know that he’s not messing around right now. “I’ve said some mean things and I’ve been way over the line and you didn’t deserve that. I guess after my mom passed, I held so much anger inside of me because I regretted so many things when it came to her. So instead of dealing with it in a healthy way, I took it out on you. And don’t ask me why, because I don’t know, honestly. Maybe it was because you reminded me of her with your kind personality and everything, and so it just made me angry that she wasn’t here..” He looked down between you, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

“Either way, it doesn’t make it okay, and I’m really sorry if I’ve said some things to upset you.. Which I know I have, but I can’t remember all of them.” Seonghwa tries to send you a smile, but it ends up looking a little awkward. 

You didn’t expect this at all. Your mouth feels dry from this big apology, not knowing what to say. A part of you always sensed that his mother’s passing triggered something in him to make him angry with you, but you didn’t know why. And it seemed like he didn’t either, but you could tell that he was genuinely sorry. 

You send him a smile, not wanting him to feel bad anymore. 

“Thank you. And I’m sorry too if I’ve ever said something back in rage.” You apologize, knowing for sure that you’ve said some things to him that weren't very nice either.

“You don’t have to apologize, I probably deserved it.” Seonghwa tries to joke, forcing a smile. “I just don’t want my mom to be disappointed with me.”

Once again, your heart breaks for him. You know how much she meant to him.

“Seonghwa, your mom was an amazing and beautiful woman. She raised you and your sister to be good people, and you are. The two of us have not always gotten along the best, but if it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t even be able to stand up right now, hadn’t you taken so much care of my ankle. You bought me a bunch of stuff to help me get through my period. Or last year when I fell on my skis and I couldn’t walk, I know you were the one who bought me my favorite brownies because no one knows I love them but you. Or three years ago when my car crashed, you drove me to the mechanic and when I had to pay a week later, you had paid for it and asked them to lie and tell me I had won some stupid competition that made it free.”

“Why do you think I paid for it?”

“I knew something was up so I asked for the details and they couldn’t lie anymore. I saw the payment. P.S.H written with your bank account number.” You explained, making his eyes flicker.

“Well.. You didn’t have a job at the time.” He started excusing, but it only proved your point further.

“Exactly. And that’s what I mean, Seonghwa. Your mom could never be disappointed with you, because even though the two of us weren’t even friends, you still helped me, and you help everyone around you. Your mom loves you, and I know she’s watching over you with nothing but care. She would be really proud of you.” 

This is what pushes Seonghwa over the edge. He looks away from you and a sob escapes him. For the first time, you see Seonghwa cry. Not even right after his mom passed did you see him cry. But now, you see tears cover his cheeks, despite him desperately trying to hide his face with his hands. 

Doing something you’ve never done, you take a few steps closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist to hug him. This is not about the past, how much you used to fight, or if you’re even friends. Right now, he’s crying because of the loss of his mother, and you need to be there for him.

You feel Seonghwa wrap his arms around you too, fully accepting this as he tries to control his sobs. Your head is pressed against his chest, and you’re able to hear his heart pounding fast. It’s a sound so intimate and it only makes you want to be closer to him. To hear him talk for hours about what is roaming his mind, no matter how emotional it might get.

You don’t know how long you’re hugging him, but his sobs quietly die down, and his heart starts to beat at a normal pace. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles in your embrace, and you pull back to see his eyes slightly red and puffy. You’re not ready to leave him yet, not wanting him to be alone.

“Are you busy?” You suddenly ask. He seems a little taken aback by your sudden question but shakes his head.

“No.”

“Do you want to watch ‘Home Alone’ with me?” You point to the TV, thinking this would be a good way to end the day. A smile creeps up on his lips, and he nods.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

***

Everyone has gone to bed, and after spending what feels like hours being nervous about your date in two days, you decide to head to bed. After changing into your oversized nightshirt, you carefully make your way to the bathroom. You make sure not to make too much noise so you won’t wake up the rest, and start getting ready to brush your teeth. 

Suddenly the door to the bathroom opens, and Seonghwa walks in, unaware that you’re here.

“Oh sorry, I thought you had gone to bed.” He excuses, stopping his tracks. You can’t help but notice how he’s only in his sweatpants, his bare chest visible. You have to fight everything in you not to look down at his naked torso, but it’s almost impossible. 

“I’m about to.” You say, holding the toothbrush in hand.

“Can I brush my teeth?” He asks, pointing at his toothbrush by the sink.

“Sure.” You answer, taking a step away to give him some space.. and not to be too close to him, because he looks better than you imagined, and you're not sure how to behave right now. 

He walks to the sink, and as you brush your teeth, you slowly find your eyes traveling to him. You’ve seen his chest before, but that was years ago when you went to the beach as teens. But now, seeing him as an adult, he’s completely changed. He’s slender with a thin waist, but still lean and muscles visible. His sweatpants are hanging low, making you able to see his entire abdomen and down to the top of his pelvis area through the mirror. 

Never have you seen him like this before, but it’s definitely doing something to you. You feel something in your stomach, the same thing you’ve felt before. And it’s making you want to go absolutely crazy.

But little do you know that Seonghwa is doing anything in his power not to look at you. When he walked out and saw you in your big oversized t-shirt, covering your entire upper body and stopping right at the thighs, he thought that would be the end of him. Your hair is in a messy bun and you look so cozy and comfortable in your shirt. He’s not sure if you’re wearing something underneath, but it doesn’t look like it, and that alone is making his mind go to places it shouldn’t. 

Does he feel your eyes on him? Of course, he does. 

And it’s making him go crazy.

But he can’t look at you or react, because he’s doing everything in his power to think of other things than you, or else a certain part of him would get very.. excited, and in these gray sweatpants, it will be more visible than normal. 

You finish brushing your teeth before him, and you take a step towards the sink. He’s giving you space by taking a step back, but he shouldn’t have done that. Now he has a complete view of you as you’re bending over to spit in the sink, and your shirt slightly raises, still not giving the impression that you’re wearing something underneath. 

He’s about to stop brushing his teeth so he can go back to his room, not being able to stay here a minute longer, but you’re meeting his eyes through the mirror and you send him a relaxed smile.

“Goodnight.” You say just above a whisper.

“Goodnight.” He replies, and you walk back to your room before he can leave. You didn’t get to do your skincare or brush your hair, you just had to get out of there. 

His body was looking amazing, and afraid of suddenly embarrassing yourself, you had to leave. 

After waiting for a few minutes in your room for him to leave, you finally got the chance to finish your night routine. When you opened your door, you found that the bathroom was unoccupied. So, you tiptoed your way back and completed your routine, brushing your hair, doing your nightly skincare routine, and ensuring that you are completely prepared before returning to your room.

Stepping back into the hallway, you walk past the closed door to Seonghwa’s room, but stop when you hear a certain sound. 

A soft grunt came from the other side of the door, only to be followed by a light moan. Your immediate thought is to walk away, but for some reason, you couldn’t get yourself to move. Seonghwa's voice released another moan, sounding so soft and somehow rough at the same time, and before you knew it, your thoughts were running wild. Without realizing it, you take a step closer to his door to get a better listen.

You shouldn't be doing this. But as another moan escapes from behind the door, your heart races. Seonghwa’s voice sounds so mild and soft as these moans continue on, making you picture what he looks like. 

His gray sweatpants pulled down slightly as he strokes himself. Bare chest and in his bed, eyes closed as he bites his lip to quiet down the sounds. His hair messy, possibly sweat starting to form on his forehead.

Moan.

Shivers all over your body from the picture your mind just created. You know he looks absolutely gorgeous because he always does. But this is making you go crazier than ever before, and a sudden need for him is taking over you.

A creaking from the floor underneath you woke you up from your daydreaming, and a longer pause from the moans filled the air. Panic rises inside of you, so you hurry back to your own room. Closing the door behind you, your heart beats fast against your chest. 

Not-so-innocent thoughts still roam your mind as you get under the sheets. Hopefully, he didn’t hear you outside. If he did, you’ll just say you went to the bathroom. 

But never has this happened before, making you wonder what would’ve happened if he caught you listening. 

Before you know it, you’re in a deep sleep, the last thing you think of is Seonghwa.

***

The texts between you and the waiter have been rather superficial so far, not exactly knowing what to talk about yet. Hopefully, the talk will be smooth when you’re on the actual date.

Another day has gone and you went to the city to spend some time and buy some last Christmas gifts. The entire day was spent walking, and you'll admit that your ankle was starting to hurt. You tried pushing away the pain but ended up driving home.

This resulted in you saying no to having dinner in the city. It was your dad's idea, but even the thought of walking anymore was already hurting your ankle, so you told the others to just enjoy a nice dinner in the city. 

Surprised, Seonghwa didn’t join the rest either. You only overheard him telling them to have a nice evening, and then your parents left, along with Seonghwa’s dad. You knew they’d have a great time, probably going out for drinks after dinner.

Or so you hoped, because it was now 9:30 in the evening, and they were still not home yet. 

You switched the TV channel in the living room. Seonghwa walked in, sat down, and watched in silence.

Of course, you hadn’t mentioned anything about your little meeting in the bathroom last night and what it led to for you. And thankfully, he hadn’t either, so you were able to wake up today with a fresh mind.

“Why didn’t you wanna go out with the others?” You asked, changing to another channel again.

“Didn’t feel like going out tonight..” He shrugged. Neither of you said anything for a few moments, only looking for something interesting to watch. Every channel showed the same kind of low-budget Christmas movies on every channel, except one channel with a weird dating show called ‘Date My Mom’.

“So..” Seonghwa starts saying next to you, a few seconds of silence as you continue changing channels. “You’re gonna have dinner with that waiter?” 

“Yeah.. We’re going out tomorrow,” You respond, not looking at him. Just thinking of it, your heart starts to beat a little faster. The dating scene has always been uncomfortable to you, having gone on some awful dates in the past. “I’m a little nervous, I overthink everything. What to eat, what to wear..” You take a moment to think, considering your choices of clothes. You didn’t pack much fancy clothes, but you did have some options. “Maybe I could wear that red dress from the other night?” You think loud to yourself.

“No.” Seonghwa says.

“No?” Your gaze turns to him. “Why? I thought it was pretty..”

“I guess, but he has already seen that dress on you.” He shrugs, and you guess he has a point. But it is your favorite dress, and you feel confident in it. That makes a question pop into your head.

“Now that we’re at the topic and you're a guy; do guys notice what girls are wearing and remember it? Or do they not care?” You fully don’t care what’s on the TV now, turning your body towards Seonghwa to hopefully get some tips for tomorrow. Plus, you’re also just curious.

“Oh, we notice.” Seonghwa sounds confident in his answer, looking at you with a cocky smile.

“But don’t you just remember it on girls you’re interested in or girls in general?”

“It depends, the same way you do for guys,” He looks back at the screen, but your eyes staring at him, has his head turned to you, looking slightly confused. “What?”

“Have you ever put thought into what I was wearing?” You ask without holding back. Two weeks ago, you wouldn’t have asked Seonghwa this question. But you and Seonghwa have gotten closer on this trip, so you felt like you could ask him without making it weird.

“Maybe.”

He answers like it isn’t a big deal, but your eyes nearly pop out of your skull. 

“Really? What was I wearing?” Your whole body is now turned towards him, curious to know his answer.

“I think we’re gonna end this conversation here. Goodnight.” He stands up from the couch and makes his way to the stairs.

“Seonghwa! Please.”

“No, you’re just gonna rub it in my face. Goodnight!” His back is still turned to you as he reaches the stairs.

“Noo, I promise I won’t!” 

He stops in his tracks, releasing a deep sigh. He looks back at you, looking slightly annoyed. "Goodnight… “ His words are harsh, but when he turns around to walk up the stairs, he takes a moment, before looking back at you again. “The red dress.”

A subtle smirk appears on his lips before he disappears up the stairs, leaving you frozen on the couch. The way his eyes held a hint of something unknown, something hidden, made your heart beat faster than normal.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring at nothing for a few minutes before you decide to head upstairs as well. A shower is necessary, so you head to the bathroom and take a well-deserved shower. Your eyes linger on Seonghwa’s door for a few seconds before walking into the bathroom. The seating area in the shower makes it take a bit longer than normal since you enjoy sitting there a bit too much under the warm water. In your defense, your ankle hurts when you stand up too long.

Finishing up in the shower, you realize that you forgot your night clothes in your room. With a sigh, you dry yourself off and wrap the towel around your body before hurrying into your room. You close your door behind you, and just as you’re about to reach for something to put on, your eyes notice something red lying by itself on the chair. 

A smirk spreads on your lips as your hands reach for your red dress, slowly putting it on. You smile to yourself when you see yourself in nothing but the dress Seonghwa just admitted to think of. Silently walking out of your room, you find yourself in the dimmed-lit hallway. A few knocks on the closed door in front of you have your heart beat a little faster than normally, but the thought of teasing a little is just what you need.

The door opens and Seonghwa comes into the frame, bare chest, and gray sweatpants. The same look as yesterday with the sweatpants hanging dangerously low. Just a second passed after seeing you in the red dress in front of his door, and he was sighing deeply.

“What are you doing?” He asks, annoyed. 

You smile teasingly, looking down at yourself. “I was just trying out clothes for the date, and you’re sure I shouldn’t wear this?” Your hands run down the sides of your waist and to your hips, focusing on the way the dress hugs your body.

“Are you trying to piss me off or do you actually wanna know what I think?” Seonghwa’s eyes flicker down to your hips for a second before going back to your eyes and staying there. Like he won’t let you win this one.

“A little bit of both maybe?” You smirk, and suddenly your eyes lose the fight, slowly sinking down to his chest. Right now, you know you're in deep water. It's a dangerous game you've decided to play, but it's somehow making you want to do this even more.

But realizing that you aren’t being as tough as you imagined you’d be, you look up to see him starting to smirk like he knows what you’re thinking, “I think..” He steps out of his room, slowly approaching you until you’re pressed up against the wall behind you. “You’re playing a game with me. But it’s not working, Red dress. Go to bed.” Seonghwa then turns around, but without thinking, you grab his arm and pull him back. He rolls his eyes, sounding annoyed. “What do you want me to say? That I think you’re attractive?” 

“Do you?”

The question throws him off for a second, but he fights the tug on his lips at your bravery. You’re never this pushy, it’s always him “flirting” in the most unhinged way, so this is a thrill to see.

“You’re a menace.”

“Do you?” You try again.

Seonghwa spends a few seconds with flickering eyes, trying to read your gaze and contemplating what to say. Choosing not to give you the satisfaction, he releases himself from your soft grip. “Goodnight.” He says with a soft voice before turning around to walk away.

“Are you scared?” You challenge.

His body stops, muscles on the back tensing. “You really are trying to piss me off,” He says as he turns around, quickly moving closer to you. You suck in a harsh breath, backing up against the wall when he’s suddenly back in front of you.

“I think that your body looks amazing in that dress,” He starts, eyes looking down on your body. His voice is just above a whisper as he leans in. “The color matches your hair perfectly, the cut on the front, the back showing just enough skin..” His fingers trace your waist and mixed with the way his low voice describes the dress on you, you feel the goosebumps all over your skin. He seems to notice your reaction because a scoff leaves his lips, but he doesn’t stop tracing his fingers on the fabric. “Honestly speaking, if I were the man who was to date you while you are wearing this dress, I’d have a time figuring out whether I would rather rip it off you or fuck you in it,”

You completely stop breathing at this point. This is not like the other times he has said some shit like this. He means it.

Seonghwa leans further towards you, and you feel his lips slightly grace your ear. “But I’m not that man, so it doesn’t matter,” He whispers before leaning back, looking into your eyes. “There, I said it. Happy now?” 

Not knowing what to do or say, you just look into his dark eyes. You thought you had this when you knocked on his door, but he has you completely wrapped around his finger. A smirk spreads on his lips, and you feel his finger under your chin, tilting your head upwards. The expression of lust is so evident in his eyes.

“Are you scared?” He challenges, leaning in, but he doesn't kiss you. You feel his breath, you can almost feel how it is to kiss him, but he doesn’t do it. He’s playing with you. He’s doing what the two of you do best, and he wants you to take it to the next step.

And that you do.

Fed up with the teasing, you lean in and crash your lips against his. Like you’ve both been longing for each other, you wrap your arms around the other to get as close as possible. Seonghwa’s tongue slips in between your lips, and you let him have you as much as you suddenly crave him.

A subtle moan comes from Seonghwa, and you’re reminded of overhearing his moans. Getting even more turned on, you take one of his hands that is wrapped around your waist and guide it to your hips, silently telling him that you want this. 

The way your body fits perfectly in his hands leaves you even more thirsty for him. 

You feel his hand slide down to your thigh, slow fingers tracing your skin before you feel his touch at your heat.

The kiss breaks and Seonghwa looks down at you with a tiny crease in the middle of his forehead. “You’re not wearing any underwear.. You wanted this to happen?” 

“Maybe.” You whisper, not knowing if you should feel confident or slightly embarrassed. But you know Seonghwa is into it when he smiles and you feel one of his fingers run between your folds. 

“You’re such a little slut, I’m gonna have to take care of you.” He starts using two of his fingers to stimulate your clit, the feeling being absolutely addicting. You don’t know if it’s the feeling of doing something in the middle of the hallway or the fact that it’s Seonghwa who is fingering you, but the pleasure is out of this world. You’re already wet, and Seonghwa notices, so he uses the opportunity to slide two of his slender fingers into you and a muffled moan escapes your mouth. A smirk reaches his lips. “The house is empty, moan all you want, baby.”

His fingers are long, and you can’t help but clench around them. You feel him curl his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot you didn’t know felt so good. Throwing your head back in an attempt to keep yourself from going insane, Seonghwa takes the opportunity to kiss your neck. Another moan escapes your lips as you feel his fingers work in and out of you at a faster pace. His other hand keeps a grip on your waist, holding you steady. 

Every thought is lost in your brain as Seonghwa angles his fingers and makes sure to be knuckles deep into you. Him being the tease he is, he slows down the pace when you start feeling your orgasm build up in your stomach, resulting in you starting to ride his fingers yourself. You're earned with a smile from Seonghwa, as your arms wrap around him to keep you steady.

“That's it, ride my fingers, you're doing so good.” He compliments. The way his low voice speaks makes you clench around his fingers again and the orgasm slowly starts forming in your stomach again. “Gonna cum already? You like having my fingers fuck you?” 

“Y-Yes.” You manage to get out, but the orgasm approaches fast, faster than you’ve ever tried before. “Fuck, Seonghwa, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, baby.” He whispers and fastens the pace again. In a second, you’re doing everything you can to keep yourself on your legs as your orgasm approaches. The sounds of Seonghwa’s fingers in your pussy are echoing through the hallway, followed by your loud moans. His name slips out between your lips and a smile tugs on his lips. “That’s it, say my name.”

His eyes are studying your face as you ride your orgasm, not missing a glimpse of this moment. You meet his eyes, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. You then realize how much you missed his lips on yours already, and you feel him pull out his fingers to focus on the kiss. Tongues fighting for dominance, you’re both hungry for each other. 

“What should I do with you?” Seonghwa asks as he pulls back for a second.

You’re quick to answer. “Fuck me.” 

“My room or yours?” 

“I don’t care.”

Seonghwa is definitely taking the lead and guides you into your bedroom. Your brain is nothing but Seonghwa, so you couldn't care less which bed you end up in. Your lips are on his again as he moves you both to your bed. Suddenly feeling something behind your thighs, you feel Seonghwa push you back, landing on the bed, before crawling on top of you. 

His hands are all over your body, trying to touch every inch, when a groan escapes from the back of his throat. “You know what? Fuck this dress, take it off.” Seonghwa then helps you up on your knees so you can get out of the dress, pulling it over your head. Seeing you completely naked in front of him, his smile only grows as he sees how stunning you look. 

Feeling overwhelmed, he grabs your face to kiss you as he stands next to the bed, you on your knees on the mattress. His bare skin under your fingers is driving you crazy, so as your tongue moves with his, you can't help but play with the elastic band around his waist, holding up the sweatpants. A growing bulge is making its appearance under the fabric. The thought of seeing every part of his body is making you feral, and he senses your neediness because he pulls back and looks down at your hands playing with the rim of his sweatpants.

“I guess, technically, you still owe me telling you what to do for a day, because of our little bet and I wanna hear how fucking stupid you sound gagging on my dick. Can you do that?” 

Seonghwa knows exactly what to say, because something switches inside of you, and you can’t wait to taste him. Feel him and have him all to yourself. 

You nod and lower yourself to pull down his sweatpants along with his boxers. The sight of his cock is absolutely astonishing. It’s way bigger than you thought, and the veins running up and down make it look so pretty. Feeling excited to make Seonghwa feel as good as he made you feel, you lean down and start tracing your tongue on his shaft. Starting from the bottom, tongue flat against his cock you lick all the way to the head where pre-cum is glistening, earning a moan from Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa’s eyes don't leave you for a second, but he grows slightly impatient when you decide to tease a little. The tip of your tongue traces along the veins of his hard cock, not ever taking him fully into your mouth. Looking up into his eyes as you do so, you see him growing more and more frustrated, his breath getting more and more uneven. Suddenly, his hand grabs your hair and yanks it down so you’re forced to look into his eyes. He bends down so your faces are close, having a look in his eyes you haven’t seen before, but it turns you on even more. 

“One more tease and I will pin you down and pump you full of cum, understood?” He speaks just above a whisper, and the thought of him doing this to you tempts you to continue teasing him, but a part of you wants to hear him praise you. To say how good you are for him, so you put him in your mouth and start moving your head. He’s stretching your mouth because of how wide he is, but you’re determined to try and have all of him in your mouth. 

“Mmm, good girl. Just like that.” Seonghwa praise makes you go faster, using your hands too. But wanting to see how much of him you can fit, you try to take all of him in your throat. Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair, carefully guiding you. The taste of pre-cum runs down your throat, and you feel your nose hit his pubic area, taking all of him in your mouth. You feel tears stinging in your eyes, and suddenly a gagging sound comes from your throat. Seonghwa pulls back, leaving strings of a mix between spit and precum between you and his cock. Finally being able to breathe properly, you gasp for air and a scoff leaves Seonghwa. “Aww, is it too much for you?”

He almost sounds like he’s mocking you, but you shake your head.

“N-No..” Your throat hurts a bit as you speak.

“You sound so cute,” He caresses his thumb on your cheek, babying you like you didn’t just choke on his cock. “Now tell me.. How bad do you wanna do this?” He pulls you up on your knees so you’re face to face, his hands steadying you. One of his hands goes under your chin, thumb running over your lips to smear out his precum on your lips.

“So bad, Seonghwa. I want this.” And you do. You’ve never felt so hungry for someone.

“That’s it. Now be a good girl and sit on my dick,” 

It takes no time for you both to get onto the bed, Seonghwa lying down with you sitting on top of him. He strokes his cock a few times before lining it up at your entrance, teasing you.

“You think you can take this cock?” He asks, looking deeply into your eyes. You want to scoff, knowing it’s probably gonna be the biggest size you’ve ever had in you, but you won’t feed his ego with that information.

“Please, don’t think too highly of - ah!” Your sentence is interrupted by Seonghwa pushing his cock inside of you, slowly stretching you out. 

“Sorry, what were you saying? I didn’t get that,” He teases, pushing you down so you’re taking him all inside of you. You can’t even think straight, the only thing in your brain is the feeling of him. “Isn’t it nice? Feeling so full?”

“Mh-hm.” You nod as you bite your lip, finally sitting down fully on top of him. He hits the right spot inside of you immediately, but he doesn’t move yet.

“Do you have any idea of how bad I’ve wanted this? Ever since the dinner night when you wore that fucking dress, I’ve wanted to fuck the shit out of you.” His hands run down your thighs, eyes taking in how you look on top of him. “I had to touch myself to the thought of you, but you already know that, don’t you? You’ve been listening on the other side of the door.” He smiles, and you meet his eyes. You’re too focused on his huge size that you can’t even find the ability to be embarrassed. 

You try to move up so he can start going in and out of you, but his hands hold you down, keeping you from getting any friction. 

“Seonghwa, please..”

“Please what?” He teases.

“Don’t tease me, please. Just move.” You beg, but he doesn’t look satisfied. ‘You can do better than that’ his expression says. An unsatisfied groan leaves you. “Please just fuck me. Fuck me and make me cum, please.”

A smile creeps up on his lips. “There you go, baby,” 

Without warning, he switches you both around so he’s on top, angled between your legs. A deep thrust surprises you, making you gasp.

“Oh my god.” You moan, fingers gripping onto the sheets under you. Seonghwa continues to thrust deep into you, slowly increasing the speed. He sits up, angled so he gets a perfect view of his cock going in and out of your cunt.

“You can take it, can’t you? Like a good slut?” His hands grab your waist, now going at a fast pace. It’s hard to get any words out, your brain is completely shut off, but you manage to say a few words still.

“Yes, I know I can. Just for you.” You say, words barely pronounced right. This takes Seonghwa into a new world, leaning down to kiss your neck. Hands finding yours, he merges his fingers with yours as he starts whispering in your ear.

“That’s right, tell me what a slut you are. Tell me how fucking badly you need me to fuck you. Tell me every sick and twisted thing you want me to do to you.” He ordered, still going at a fast pace. His lips find your neck again, leaving kisses all over you.

“Fuck me. You can do anything you want with me. I’m yours and you can use me whenever you-” You don’t get to finish the sentence before another loud moan fights its way out of your mouth. You’re sure his name came out of your mouth too at some point, but right now, you don’t know. You don’t have any control over your body, you’re completely in Seonghwa’s control.

“Fuck, I love hearing you scream for me,” Seonghwa says in your ear, using one of his hands to hold your legs open for him as he continues to thrust. A smile tugs on his lips as you moan again. “You think your little waiter can make you feel so good?”

“No, only you can.” You don’t even have to think twice. You’re sure no one can make you feel this good besides Seonghwa.

“That’s right, let’s make sure you won’t forget that,” Seonghwa suddenly pulls out and sits up. He turns you around so you’re on your stomach, and you feel him positioning himself at your entrance again. Your legs are locked under him as he enters you again fully before hovering over you, back against his front as he fucks you into the mattress. His hands push you down, forcing you to just take him as you lie on the bed.

“Shit.. I wish you could see how fucking amazing you look with my cock in you. You’re so pretty.” He leans down to press multiple kisses on your shoulders, his fingers finding yours again to intertwine them. He hits your sweet spot with every thrust, and quickly you feel your second orgasm form in your stomach.

“Seonghwa, I-I’m gonna cum.” You say, head against the mattress. This only makes him go faster and deeper.

“Cum for me again, I know you can do it.” He says, and not a second passes before your legs are shaking and you clench around his cock. This makes Seonghwa moan loud too, feeling his orgasm approach at a fast pace.

“I gotta cum, baby.” He warns, fucking you fast and deep as he pounds you through your orgasm. 

“Cum in me, please.” You moan, wanting him to release inside of you. You’re still in the middle of your orgasm when Seonghwa thrusts a last time before spilling his load inside of you. His moans are prettier than you could’ve ever imagined, way better than what you overheard, and you feel his warm cum spread inside of you, leaking out while he’s still inside.

“Fuck.. Shit, you feel so good.” He thrusts a few more times, wanting as much as possible to fill your hole, before losing the strength in his arms and relaxing on top of you. 

You feel his heart beating fast against your back, both of your bodies sticky from the sweat. Deep and fast breaths are the only things heard in the room, both of you trying to get back to your normal breathing. You feel his hand run through your hair as soft kisses are placed on your shoulders. Without realizing, feeling a million emotions all at once, you can’t help but smile. He’s still inside of you, but you like it. This closeness, the amount of kisses he’s showering you with. It’s something you never expected to happen, but it has never felt better.

“Are you okay?” He asks caringly, removing some of your hair so he can see the side of your face. 

You nod, getting back to your normal breathing.

“I think I need a new shower. I’m all sweaty.” You admit, feeling him remove himself from you. He places a last kiss on your temple before pulling out of you.

“That makes two of us.” He says before getting out of bed. You’re about to get up, but Seonghwa catches you by surprise and takes you up in his arms. He carries you to the bathroom in bridal style (not something new for you) and carefully, he places you on the bench in the huge shower. Your legs are weak after the intense session you two shared, so you’re thankful for him carrying you. He’s out of the bathroom a second later, leaving you confused, but he’s back a moment after with his sweatpants and some clothes for you. 

Your eyes follow him as he’s in his own world, turning on the water.

“What are you doing?” You ask from your seat.

“You usually take up all the hot water. Let's share it this time,” Seonghwa holds out his hand for you to take. His eyes have a warmth in them, something so full of care that you couldn’t ever say no to this. You grab his hand and stand up, moving closer to him. 

The shower is big enough for both of you, but you don’t move around much, only watching as Seonghwa adjusts the water to the right temperature and takes the loofah in his hands. He turns you around so your back is facing him, and you feel him start washing your body.

“You want your hair washed too?” He asks, his voice incredibly soft-spoken. 

“No, just my body.” You smile, not knowing what to do. He doesn’t respond, just continues to use the loofah on your body to clean you. His front is against your back, but not once is there any hint of something sexual in the shower. Seonghwa doesn’t lead up to anything, only kisses your shoulder once in a while as his arms wrap around you to wash your front. You have sensed his caring side a few times on this trip, but this is a whole new level. You had no idea that Seonghwa could be this soft, especially with you. 

The warm water washes over you, rinsing off the soap. You feel clean again and turn around to face him.

“Thank you.” You smile, and he leans in to kiss you softly on the lips. 

“You’re welcome.” He smiles and washes himself too. He’s quick to finish, and you both walk out of the shower. The same thing happens when you have to dry yourself - Seonghwa does basically the entire thing, using a big towel to dry your body. He helps you in your underwear and in your sleeping t-shirt (except you notice it smells extremely like him, only to realize he grabbed one of his shirts for you to sleep in). He puts it over your head and smiles satisfied when you’re done.

“There we go, good as new.” He says and puts on his boxers and sweatpants.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, not able to stop yourself. You were genuinely curious where all of this came from, so it wasn’t because you didn’t want him to. You had just never expected it.

“Doing what?” 

“This..” Your arms point between you, to the shower, and around you. He takes a step closer to you and pushes some of your hair away from your face and behind your ear. 

“Because we just had rough sex and I want to take care of you after,” He shrugs. You stare up at him, making him smile before he leans down to kiss you softly on the lips. It feels different than the other kisses like this one is full of something new. He pulls back, and you realize you miss his lips on yours already. “Also.. I think we both know that this was more than just a casual hookup.”

His voice is low like he’s scared that someone might hear, despite the two of you being the only ones home. But the words leave you with a million questions, but nowhere to start. Because before you realize what he said, he takes your hand and pulls you back into your bedroom. He’s in complete control of you, for some reason, your mind doesn’t work properly with him around you. 

“C’mere.” He says, opening his arms when you both get in bed. Doing as he says, you get into his embrace, and he closes his arms around you. You feel his arm wrap around your waist as he pulls you closer to him, your back against his front. A kiss is placed on your temple as you just lie in the arms of the man you’ve fought with for most of your life, falling into a deep sleep.

***

You wake up to a bright room and stretch in your bed. As you look around, you realize that there is more space than you thought. Turning to your side, you find the bed empty and sit up, scanning the room for Seonghwa, but he is nowhere to be found.

Did he go back to his own room after you fell asleep?

A little confused, you get out of bed and walk to open the door and hear something downstairs. Someone is talking, and you immediately recognize your mom’s voice along with Seonghwa’s. You make your way to the kitchen downstairs, seeing your mom cleaning while Seonghwa is eating some cereal by the kitchen island. His back is turned to you, but you can tell he’s laughing at something your mom said.

“Good morning, honey!” Your mom says as she sees you enter the kitchen, and you make your way around it so you’re on the opposite side of Seonghwa. Trying not to make your mom feel any tension between you and Seonghwa, you casually sit down and grab a bowl and a spoon. You can’t help but look across the kitchen island to see Seonghwa smile at you, eyes lighting up. He bites his smile and tries to hide the tension too, not wanting your mom to know what happened between you two last night. “Slept well?” Your mom asks. 

“Uhm, yeah. Very well.” You clear your throat and look up at Seonghwa again. He’s smirking to himself, looking down at his bowl of cereal. He’s wearing one of his white T-shirts now, similar to the one you’re wearing at the moment. It’s not like your families can’t know that you and Seonghwa might start seeing each other. But there’s no reason for them to know what the two of you did while the rest were out to dinner last night.

“So, are you ready for your date later?” Your mom asks, making both you and Seonghwa freeze. His smile is gone, eyes looking up at you with curiosity and… worry?

Your eyes flicker for a moment, as you had completely forgotten about your date with the waiter tonight. But after what happened last night, you’re not sure about this date. Especially not when a certain someone is sitting across from you, messy morning hair and sweatpants, yet you don’t think you’ve ever been more attracted to someone.

“Uhm..” You look at Seonghwa a last time before looking at your mom. “I don’t think I’ll go on a date with him, Mom.” 

“Aww, how come?” She asks, curiosity evident in her voice.

“It won’t work out..” You say, not being able to tell her the entire truth. But the eyes you feel staring at you from across the kitchen island keep you from staying quiet. “Besides, I think I might like someone else.”

Seonghwa’s eyes look away from you, as he takes his empty bowl and starts cleaning it in the sink. You can’t see his face, but for a split second when he turned his face to the side, you saw him fighting back a smile.

“Really? Who?” Your mom's words wake you up from staring at Seonghwa, and you look back at her. 

“I’ll tell you later on, it’s still pretty new and I have to figure out if he even likes me too.” You shrug, not even knowing what to say about your situation with Seonghwa. You’ve known each other your entire lives, not once have there been a hint of something romantic between you two. Not until this trip. But you would lie if you said that the things he has done for you on this trip didn’t wake up something in you. Something you didn’t know was there but was waiting to be woken up. 

“Well, I hope it’s gonna work out for you, honey.” A smile tugs on your mother’s lips as he kisses the top of your head. She walks out of the kitchen, and just as her figure is out of sight, you feel a pair of lips kiss your cheek and arms wrap around you from behind. 

You hold back your giggle as Seonghwa showers you with kisses but stops to look into your eyes.

“Good morning.” He smiles, still having his arms around you. 

“Good morning.” You smile.

“So.. You’re really not gonna go on a date with him?” His voice is low, careful not to let everyone know what you’re talking about. You shake your head.

“Nah.. I figured I’d rather put my attention on someone else.” Your words turn on the light in Seonghwa’s eyes. 

“Can I take you out when we get home, then?” He suggests, but you’re not done teasing him. Despite you and him possibly starting to date, you’ve still lived your entire life teasing each other. That’s not something you’re gonna stop doing, just because you’re dating.

“What makes you think I wanna date you?” You scoff and roll your eyes, looking down at your bowl of cereal. You feel his grip around you loosen as he reads your face. If only you knew what he was going to tease you back with when he leaned close to your ear.

“‘Seonghwa, fuck, oh Seonghwa.’” He imitates your words from last night, and you quickly push him away, a laugh escaping his lips.

“Stop! Don’t!” You say, not being able to hold back your own laugh from hearing his. He walked back closer to you, a teasing look on his face.

“Isn’t that how you sounded screaming my name last night?” He asked, eyebrow raised in a questioning manner.

“Alright! Alright alright alright,” You shake your head, wanting to move on from how you sounded last night. “You’re unhinged, you know that?”

“I’m just proving a point.” He shrugs.

“The point being what?”

“That you shouldn’t date anyone but me.” He smiles satisfied, like it’s common knowledge. A while ago, you would’ve laughed in his face if he said that to you, but now, it only makes the butterflies go crazy in your entire body. But of course, he can’t know (yet) how weak in the knees he’s making you, so you only respond with a casual answer.

“Fine, I guess.”

“Oh, I have a better idea,” His arms find their way around you again as you look up at him from your stool. “How about we go on a date here, and we’ll go out to eat in the restaurant where that waiter is working and he can see that we’re-”

“Nooo, no, no, we’re not doing that.” You stop him.

“Why?” He sounds genuinely confused.

“Because that’s gonna make everyone besides you uncomfortable, and you’re not gonna be dragging that poor man to the ground, again. He hasn’t done anything wrong, you know.” You defended, not wanting to stir any kind of drama. You just had to text the waiter that there wouldn’t be a date, but you’re thankful for the opportunity. But knowing Seonghwa, you’re not surprised by him coming up with this idea. You’re also earned with Seonghwa rolling his eyes at you.

“Boring, but fine. Is this how our relationship starts? With you telling me what not to do?” He asks, of course, a teasing smile apparent on his lips. 

“When you’re being a menace, yes. And I might tell you what not to do, but if we do what we did last night.. Isn’t that a pretty good deal?” You suggest, watching as Seonghwa smiles even more while he holds you closer.

“Baby, you can tell me what to do and what not to do for the rest of our lives, if we can do what we did last night.” He leans closer, his lips barely touching yours. "I'd happily be your servant for the rest of time if you promise to stay with me."

“Sounds like a plan.” You smile satisfied.

“Can’t wait.” He finally presses his lips against yours, making the fireworks in your body go crazy. Your mind goes blank again, falling into the deep hole of Seonghwa, wishing to stay there forever. 

Taglist:

@canigotosleep--plz @miyajack @uyumilk @hhoneylix @staytiny816 @skzscb @yeologist @likexaxdaydream @yunsara @hrtniki @dazzlingstarrs @mingiturnip @vannabanana1995 @xoxominghxe @stfu-rina   

(I only have a main taglist, lmk if you wanna be added <3)

[tubareads]

Ahhh this was so good! I really enjoyed seeing the progression of their relationship and just seeing both pov's. I just love angst in the form of a reformed fuckboy lmao

I wanna be yours

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader

Summary: it was all a game to him, until all he could think about was you. He wanted to have all of you. Ruin all of you. Love all of you.

Or, the one where Chan is a cocky asshole who's going out with you just for fun and ends up falling in love.

Slightly inspired in the movie 10 things I hate about you.

Genres: angst, smut, fluff

Words count: 10,991

Masterlist

This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!

Warnings: Corruption kink(kinda), dry humping, fingering, blowjob, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, pet names(princess, baby), Chan is cocky as fuck(and I'm here for it, stan cocky Bangchan), reader gets kinda insecure close to the end(let me know if I missed something)

A/N: should I be answering my requests or updating my series? Yes, did I spend too much time in a super long self indulgent oneshot? I did. It was supposed to be just smut with corruption kink 😭 turns out I can't write the porn without the plot.

It all started as a game for him. He just didn't guess how much you would mess with his head.

Bang Chan doesn't care much about college, with a promising career in music, he's just attending classes so his parents won't nag him too much.

That means he's bored all the time.

So when Jeongin, his youngest friend, begged him to win his girlfriend's sister over and date her for a bit, he almost accepted right away, yearning for some fun. But he didn't, not before knowing who you were.

That's how he ended up here, trying to find you in the middle of communication class. He didn't need to look too much, from Jeongin’s description, he could find you in the blink of an eye.

“A pretty girl, probably wearing black or some neutral color and she'll probably be in a corner. She's very shy, when you speak to her don't be too straightforward, you may scare her”

The way Jeongin described you didn't show any ill intent and he was always a good guy, that's why Chan considered accepting his offer in the first place. He must have his reasons for almost kneeling in front of his friend, asking for him to date you.

Chan sits behind you, observing every movement you make. You're indeed pretty and you really are shy. He notices how you want to raise your hand every time the professor asks a question, but you always hesitate and someone speaks over you. Every time you try to speak, some rude person cuts you and instead of getting mad, your face turns red and you shrink in your seat, trying to make yourself even more invisible.

There's something about you, Chan can't tell what it is, but it's something amusing about how you behave. Someone like you could have every guy in this university wrapped around your little finger and every girl wanting to be your friend.

As soon as the class ends, Chan sends a text to Jeongin, telling him he will do it. He doesn't waste time, waiting for everyone to get out of the classroom while you're still collecting your things.

“Hey”, he says out of nowhere, making you jump and look at him with huge doe eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you”.

He kinda did want that, though, curious to see how you would react, he thought maybe you would raise your voice and curse him, but you reacted as calmly as possible.

“It's okay”, you mumble.

You keep organizing your things, trying to ignore his presence.

“So, I wanted to ask if you can let me borrow your notes”, he asks, making puppy eyes.

You turn back to him and Chan can almost see the gears turning inside your head.

“Why does he want my notes if he just attended the same class?” It's written all over your face.

“I pulled an all nighter studying for another class and kind of dozed off earlier”, he lies, smiling sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him for a bit, pondering if you should say yes, actually, let's be real: can you even say no?

This is Bang Chan, handsome and popular, everyone knows him and the other two guys from 3racha. The last you heard, he didn't care much about classes since he's already progressing in his music career so you still don't understand why he wants to borrow your notes.

“Yeah, okay”, you nod, deciding to agree so this conversation can be over soon. You pull your notebook out of your bag and hand it to him. “Just make sure to give it back by next class”

“Sure, thanks”, he gives you a big bright smile that makes you gulp while staring at him, just a few minutes in his presence and you already know something very important: this man is dangerous.

You look around awkwardly, not knowing what Chan wants more. He's just standing there, staring at you.

“I'll get going then”, you sigh, feeling exhausted by this whole interaction.

You turn around, walking to the door, leaving Chan there, dumbstruck. Jeongin was right, you have no social skills, but you're much more entertaining than he made you out to be.

—

You're having lunch with Yuna, your sister, and Jeongin, her boyfriend, in the cafeteria. You like spending time with them, they are probably the only people you feel comfortable around in this university.

You met Jeongin three months ago. Your sister came home giggling like a child on Christmas, sat on your bed and told you she got a boyfriend.

You ran to your door, closing it after checking that your parents weren't around. There's only one rule in the house: your younger sister must not date before you do.

Your parents are not conservative or anything like that, they just had you two later than other parents, so they are very overprotective. You don't know exactly the reason why they set this rule, maybe it's because they are sure you're never going to date.

Yuna is your best friend, she was a sickly child so all those interactions and fights that normal sisters have, you didn't. You spent most of her childhood and a huge part of yours by her side in the hospital. Fortunately, she was able to go back to a normal life by the time she was becoming a teenager, she was always a social butterfly even in the hospital everyone loved her.

You always thought it was unfair that she had to wait to have a boyfriend simply because you are not interesting enough or can't even hold a conversation properly without stuttering, but there was nothing you could do about it. You even tried arguing with your parents about it but it always ended with them telling you to forget about it.

You see Jeongin waving to someone, something is off, they never invite anyone to eat with them. A tray is settled by your side and you look at the person who sits in the seat next to yours: Bang Chan.

“Hello again”, he smiles at you, a handsome smile with dimples showing and everything. He greets the others after.

You look at Yuna and Jeongin, she is frowning just like you and her boyfriend is eating like this is an ordinary situation in your daily lunch.

“Hi”, you sister answers, “I don't think we met before”

“Oh, yeah, I'm Bang Chan!” He stretches his hand so she can shake it. “Jeongin is an old friend and I have communication class with y/n”

“Ah”, she nods, looking at her boyfriend. You stay in silence, playing with your food, waiting for Jeongin to send Bang Chan away.

“Babe, I forgot I have a project due tonight”, Jeongin says, slapping the palm of his hand on his forehead. He stands up, “can you help me? Chan will keep y/n company.”

No. You don't want him to keep you company. Your eyes widen and you stare at your sister, trying to send her a mental signal so she won't let you alone with him.

What you don't see, it's that she has already caught up on the way Bang Chan is looking at you and she might think she understands what's happening.

“Okay, yeah. Take care of her”, your sister says, smiling apologetically to you while she gets up and follows Jeongin out of your sight.

You should just throw your food away and go to the library, maybe you can eat a sandwich.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You hear Bang Chan's voice before you can put your plan into practice, turning around to look at him with the most terrified face he ever saw on someone. “Ouch, does the idea scare you so much?” He jokes.

“Why would you want to go on a date with me? We just met yesterday”, you point out, holding yourself back so you won't just stand up and run away.

“I find you interesting, it's just a date so we can get to know each other better”, he shrugs. He's so nonchalant about it, while you're freaking out inside.

“I don't think that's a good idea, I'm not good at keeping conversations, you'll get bored”, you say frantically. You just didn't expect him to laugh.

“I can do all the talking, I love to talk"

Chan knows this move is risky and there's a high probability you won't accept, but he just felt like asking you at that moment.

“Are you sure you won't get bored?” You ask.

His eyes widen and he nods, are you really considering it?

You are, obviously. You bet no one could ever guess, but Bang Chan is your ideal type, actually he is probably everyone's ideal type.

He has the kindest smile you have ever seen and the way his eyes turn into crescents when he's smiling makes your legs weak. He met you yesterday, but you know him since 3racha performed in the university’s festival last year. Since the first time you two crossed paths, everything about him, appearance wise, seemed appealing: his dark eyes, his smile, his dark curls, his broad shoulders and his muscular body. That's why you freaked out so much when he spoke to you yesterday, you never thought he would give you the time of day. So you would be dumb to reject his offer.

“Okay”, you nod, handing your phone to him. “You can put your number there, I'll text you so you can save my contact”, you say and he stares at the device for a few moments before picking it up and typing his number.

This was easier than he thought.

—

“Do you have pepper spray with you?” Your mother asks for the 30th time in the last hour.

“Yes, mom. I'm going on a date with another student, he's not a criminal”, you tell her and your father tsks.

“There are alot of students that commit crimes”, he says.

“I know”, you sigh, “don't worry, I have pepper spray, emergency numbers and I'll turn on my localization”

Your sister is watching the scene unfolding in front of her, while she chuckles.

“You shouldn't laugh, if I start dating you will go through the same thing when it's your time”, you whisper at her and she sighs.

“You're not going to this date just so I can officially date Jeongin, right?”

You grin.

“You think too highly of me, I'm not that selfless”, you hear the sound of a horn in front of your house, “I'm going on this date because he's hot”

Chan thought you were pretty in your everyday clothes but after seeing you ready for your date he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You're wearing a little sundress with thin straps holding your much too generous and low cleavage. Your hair is down and your lips are red with lipstick.

He's waiting for you outside of the car so he can open the door for you, but when you stop in front of him, he just doesn't move.

You frown, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Are you okay?” You ask and he snaps out of his daze.

“Yeah, you're just too pretty”, he tells you honestly, “I just couldn't believe I'm so lucky”

You feel your skin hotter, you're sure your whole face must be red like a tomato.

The restaurant you are going to have dinner at is a bit further than you thought, it takes at least one hour by car to get there.

“Were all the places close to the city closed?” You try making a joke and he smiles.

“Considering your personality, I thought you would like this place better”, he tells you while you go in. A person greets you two, leading you inside. There's no open space, the building is full of rooms and you're guided to one of those. There's a glass wall in the back of the room with a view to a lake and a waterfall, there's colorful lights everywhere, making it even more beautiful.

“So, when I was searching for a nice place to go on a date, I came across this one.” Chan starts speaking and you notice there's a small stove on top of the table. “There's no attendants, so we will cook our own food and only call them if we want more servings”, he explains, pulling the chair so you can sit.

“Oh”, you feel a weird feeling on your stomach, are these the butterflies your sister told you about? You never knew something like this existed and the fact that he was attentive enough to take your shyness into consideration while choosing the place of your date makes you melt inside. “Thank you”, you tell him after sitting.

You don't shut up the whole night. This is the first time you feel so comfortable with someone other than your family.

“So, you want to work with entertainment?” He asks surprised.

“Yes, I really like the whole thing about managing an artist, it sound exciting”, you smile happily, “who knows, maybe one day I can manage 3racha”

“You have heard 3racha?” Chan asks, surprised.

“I really like your music”, you tell him, “besides, everyone knows about you guys”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you knew about us”, he smiles charmingly, leaning on the table while clasping his hands. “So does that win me some points? Maybe a kiss?”

You already are red because of the wine, now you feel your whole face hot. You're already feeling a bit out of it, not drunk enough to make a bad decision but definitely drunk enough to lose a bit of your shyness.

“I don't know how to kiss”, you say simply, no further explanation.

Chan almost chokes on the air he just breathed, he didn't think you would be so blunt about it. Curiously, he finds your innocent face while saying that too enticing.

“I can help you with that”, he says, tilting his head and winking.

“Would you really?” You ask and he nods. “Like now?”

Chan didn't expect that to happen so soon, especially with someone as shy as you. But he won't refuse your offer.

“Are you done?” He asks, eagerly, standing up and you nod. Chan stretches his hand to you, waiting for you to hold it.

He takes you to his car, helping you get in and fastening your seatbelt. He's not in his right mind, not at all, he didn't even drink so why is he so excited? He doesn't think he ever felt this way about a kiss. He drives for a while, looking for the drive in movie theater he had read about while looking for the restaurant.

After fifteen minutes he parks his car behind others, there are a lot of people there to watch the movie.

You have your hands on your lap, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. It's so endearing how innocent you are.

“Would you like to take a seat?” He asks and you frown, looking around and then looking at him. You are already seated.

He tilts his head, chuckling and patting his lap. You nod so fast, it's embarrassing. He smiles, seeing you climb on top of him, legs are over the cup holder, you're using him as a literal seat.

“You never kissed anyone?” He asks, while you adjust yourself on top of him, his breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps rise all over your body. You shake your head, feeling a bit insecure, what if you are no good?

Chan bites on his lower lip, shifting a bit so you won't feel his hardening cock under you, you're just too cute, too sexy.

“Okay, I'll go slowly, we can stop anytime you want”, he tells you, brushing his hand on your arm all the way to your neck, making you close your eyes to his touch. He pulls your face closer, touching your lips with his, it's warm and soft, it feels like heaven.

He brings his other hand to your cheek, caressing. He pulls back a bit, just enough so he can speak.

“Open your mouth for me, baby”, he tells you and you obey instantly, feeling his lips back on yours. His tongue brushes against yours and you whine, lifting your hands to grab on his shoulders to steady yourself, causing your ass to rub on his cock. Chan groans, making you flinch, did you do something wrong?

He notices your hesitancy, so he slides his hand to your waist, squeezing you in reassurance.

“Are you sure you have never done this?” He asks playfully and you smile, shyly.

“Can- Can we do it again?” You whisper, making him chuckle. Dear god, would he be able to stop this with just kisses?

“Did you like kissing me, princess?” He teases, seeing you blush. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. He lands a kiss on your exposed collarbone, tracing kisses up to your neck.

“You smell so good”, he tells you before leaving a kiss on your jaw, then on your chin and finally a peck on your lips.

“Must taste even better”, he thinks, smiling to himself.

Your phone starts ringing, taking you two out of that hazy atmosphere. You feel embarrassed now, not believing you actually acted that way. Going back to your seat, you pick up the call, it's Yuna.

“Mom and dad are freaking out because you stopped moving for too long”, she whispers. Shit, you forgot your localization was turned.

“Tell them you called Chan and I'm alright, my phone just died”, you instruct her.

“Yeah, got it, just hurry”

Chan probably heard the conversation, but you still feel upset that he started the car right away and drove fast back to your home.

When you arrive in front of your house, you're not sure if you should kiss him goodnight or just wave, both are awkward options for you, so you go with the one you want the most.

You grab his arm and pull him closer to you, kissing him on the lips. Chan is quite surprised with your bold action, but he won't complain, he can't get enough of your lips.

“I will text you when I get home”, he says after pulling away and you nod.

You get out of the car and walk to your door, stealing glances at Chan. He's giggling at your antics, watching until you are safe inside your house.

He should be thankful to Jeongin, he's finally having a good time.

—

Chan is taking his mission seriously, he's texting you everyday and even stopped seeing all his fuck buddies. This is the closest he ever got to a relationship, but you're not official yet.

Especially not when you're avoiding him like the plague when it comes to meeting face to face. You answer his texts normally but he has to literally hunt you down so he can find you in this damn university and if you see him before he sees you, it's game over, you'll hide immediately and he has to begin his search all over again.

This time, though, he caught you off guard. You are at the library, seated alone, trying to focus on the book you have in your hands.

He smiles to himself, knowing you can't escape anymore. Chan leans over, caging your body with his two hands around you, gripping the table.

“I missed you, baby”, he whispers and you shiver, feeling butterflies on your stomach.

“H-hi”, you say, closing your book and taking a deep breath.

You will not try and pretend you didn't hide from him for almost a week. But that's not your fault, it's your brain's.

After Chan left you home, you ran to your room, still feeling all tingly and hot from kissing him. Since Yuna didn't come to your room you guessed she was already asleep, so you took your makeup off, took a long bath and snuggled in your nice sheets.

The thing is: you had the most lewd, filthy, awfully good dream that night. You could never even say the things Chan did to you in that dream out loud.

You woke up sweaty, heavy breathing and panties soaked, this never happened to you before.

You just couldn't look at his face after that, you felt dirty and guilty with having those thoughts about such a nice guy.

“Am I wrong or were you avoiding me?” He asks, not moving from behind you.

“No- I wasn't”, you turn around to look at him, bumping into his face too close from yours. He glances at your lips, biting his lower one and chuckles. “I was just, hm, kinda embarrassed”, you tell him, aware that he's going to know right away if you try lying.

“Embarrassed about what?” He asks, tilting his head.

“I don't know”, you look away, trying not to give in and tell him about your dream.

“I think you should come to my place so we can talk about it”, he says and you choke on your own spit, struggling to function correctly. Did he just ask you to go to his house? Just you? And him? Just the two of you?

The apartment is not far from the campus, it's a maximum twenty minutes walk. The building is nice and modern, it absolutely matches what you had imagined Chan’s place would look like.

His apartment is huge, it's not possible that he lives there alone.

“I have three roommates, Jisung and Changbin you already know and Hyunjin, he's an arts major”

“Hwang Hyunjin? I know him, he's friends with my sister”, Chan nods, he forgot your sister dates Jeongin, she probably knows his entire group of friends.

“Do you want to drink something?” He asks, looking at you while you walk around the living room, looking at every corner but not at him.

“Water is fine”, you say, looking at some pictures he has with his friends. He always has that breathtaking smile that makes all your insides turn around.

“What about watching a movie?” He asks out of nowhere, sitting on the sofa. He looks at you, an arm resting on the back of the sofa.

“Sure”, you walk to him, sitting on the far corner. Chan has to bite back a laugh so you won't feel embarrassed, do you really think it's so easy for you to get away from him?

He turns on the movie, adjusting himself on his seat. You're really trying to pay attention to what's going on on the screen, but you just can't. Not when Chan's scent is all over the place, making you remember about your dirty dream.

He knows you're restless, he can see you fidgeting by his peripheral vision.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks, turning his head towards you, with a smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe you can sit here again, I'm sure you are going to like it better”, he pats on his lap.

You feel your face red.

“Stop teasing”, you mumble, pouting, “that's not nice”

He chuckles. If you're not coming to him, he has no problem going to you, so Chan slides his body closer, making you stare at him with a frown.

He raises his hand to your face, cupping it and caressing your cheek.

“Tell me you don't want this, princess, I'll stop”, he says. But you want this more than anything in the world, how could you not?

You lean a bit, trying to close the gap between your mouths. Oh, how much Chan missed your soft lips, he felt almost like going through a withdrawal staying so long without kissing you.

You learn fast, your mouth opens right away after your lips touch. In a bold move, your tongue is the one to look for his first, making him groan. He puts his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it harder than he predicted, but he didn't predict the bite you would give on his lip at that exact moment.

Chan grabs your hip, pulling you up to his lap, this time with a leg on each side of him. You're looking at him in that innocent way when all he has on his mind are the dirtiest thoughts. He caresses your thigh, sliding his hand to grab your ass and pulling you closer to him.

“Will you tell me now, why you were embarrassed? You looked pretty fine when I left you home after our date”, he asks and you blush instantly, oh, you forgot about the reason you are here. You can't tell him about your dream, you'll die of embarrassment if you do.

“It was- nothing”, you lie, avoiding his eyes. Chan noticed this already, you always look anywhere but him when you are lying to him.

Maybe he'll have to make you tell the truth.

“Really?” He says, skeptical. “Then you were just being mean? Playing with my feelings after just one date?” He's teasing, he knows you'll give in eventually, it's just a question of time.

“No, I wasn't”, you argue, with a frown on your face, your lips shut tight in a pout.

“Baby”, he calls, your legs would definitely give out if he called you like that while you were standing. “I don't like liars”

Chan slides his hands up to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling you closer. You can already feel something hard beneath you, making you shift and adjust on his lap, involuntarily seeking some friction. Your core is aching, just by staying so close to him.

“I'm not lying, that's mean”, you try changing the subject and he chuckles.

Chan comes closer, lips brushing against yours, his breathing hitting on your mouth, everything just making the wet spot on your panties grow bigger and bigger. He kisses you, a nice and soft kiss with his tongue caressing yours gently.

Chan notices that you're moving your hips slightly, trying to feel his cock. He smiles during the kiss, pulling away while putting his hands on your hips, guiding your movements to be harder.

“Hm”, you whine, feeling his hard on giving you the friction you're looking for. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer into a kiss again.

You never felt this way, like ever. You did masturbate but it's different to do it with another person. It's just so good to feel Chan's touch on your skin, his breathing, his muscular arms holding you. You feel your orgasm coming, you can't believe you're going to cum by just rubbing yourself on this man.

Chan knows you're almost there, that's when he grabs your hips steadying you, not letting you move further. He earns a whine from you, an angry look on your face.

“I will only let you keep going if you tell me why you were embarrassed and avoided me”, he says cockyly and you shake your head, trying to move again but his grip on your hips is too strong.

“I don't wanna”, you tell him.

“Then, I guess you won't be cumming today”, he shrugs. “At least, not with me”, he smirks to your face becoming even redder.

“You're such a meanie”, you whine, pouting, still trying to move again but he just won't let you.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” He tilts his head.

You ponder for a moment, what should you do? It's not going to end here, if you don't tell him right now, you're sure he won't let it go.

“I- I had a dream”, you start, trying to gather some courage.

“Uhm”, he nods, “what about it?” He asks curiously, feeling strangely aroused by the way you're looking around, lips pulled into a line and the way you're speaking leads him to believe you're talking about a wet dream.

“Li- like one of those dreams”, so he was right, did you have a wet dream about him? That's interesting.

“Hm, you'll have to be more specific, princess”, he pushes, “I don't think I know what you're talking about”

“I mean”, you groan, dropping your head to his shoulder so you won't feel his eyes on you. “A sex dream… with you”, you whisper.

The grin on Chan's face after you finish saying that, is priceless. He can feel his cock twitching, he's eager to know more.

“Tell me more about it”, he presses, “I really wanna know what happened in that dream that left you so embarrassed”

“Please, Chan. Don't make me say it”, you beg, but he's not having it. He likes seeing you blushing and struggling to talk dirty, it's endearing.

“No can do”, he grabs your shoulder to pull you away so he can look at your face. “I promise I'll give a nice reward if you tell me”

You nod. If he won't drop it, then you have to try and earn something over your embarrassing situation.

“I- like- you ate me out”, you start and he smiles, he would indeed love to do that. “And I s-sucked you off, it was nice”, you stumble over your words in each sentence. Chan can only feel even more turned on, your lips are so soft, he can't even picture what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him.

“Keep going, princess. You're doing great”, he reassures you. Chan loosens the grip on your hips, guiding your movements back and forth once again.

“And you said all these dirty things to me, I can't say it out loud, please”, he smirks, pulling you even closer and pressing your covered core against his cock.

“Did I tell you how good it felt to have your pretty little mouth sucking on my cock?” He asks playfully and you nod, feeling the warmth creeping in your face again while that tingly sensation grows bigger in your lower stomach.

“Did we fuck?” He asks, feeling himself getting closer to cum too.

“Yeah”, you nod frantically with your eyes closed shut. “You fucked me on all fours and in this same position too”, you tell him.

“Oh? Did you ride me? Did you like it?”

“I did”, you struggle to make your voice come out, feeling too light headed to even speak properly.

“There's something more, right, baby?” He feels his cock throbbing, he's almost at his limit.

“Yes, you- you choked me a bit, I liked that”, and that sentence was enough to make Chan reach his orgasm, being followed by you right after.

He can't believe he really did cum in his pants, like a fucking teenager. It's your fault actually, how can someone make him cum like this and still look angelic and innocent? Like you never told him he choked you and you liked it, even though it was a dream.

Chan kisses you eagerly this time, his chest is feeling hot and he feels a weird sensation on his stomach.

“You shouldn't feel embarrassed about this kind of thing”, he tells you and you nod, because it's true, “if it makes you feel better, I'm sure I had worse thoughts about you”, he smiles, seeing you blush.

“Like what?” You ask, curiously.

“Oh, I won't tell you”, he shakes his head, “you would never look at me again if you knew all the dirty things I wanna do to you”

—

Another week went by and now you were not avoiding Chan anymore. He follows you around pretty much all day at school, stealing kisses and pulling you to empty classrooms to have make out sessions.

It's time for him to meet your parents, it's not something he ever did, he never dated anyone after all. It's a Wednesday night, he brought flowers and a bottle of wine. So five minutes before the set time, he's knocking at your door.

Your sister opens up, greeting him but you're nowhere to be found until he hears your voice from upstairs.

“Is he already here?” You sound panicked and your sister giggles.

“Yes! Hurry up”, she says and Chan hears something falling and making a weird noise. It was not loud enough to be a person so he's not worried you fell, but he finds it funny to think about you nervously stumbling around.

When you show up at the top of the stairs, he has to blink a few times to actually believe you're real. You look so beautiful, showing your nice legs in a short skirt and your shoulders in a tank top.

“Hey”, you greet him, looking at the things he has in hands and he finally regains his composure.

“Hi”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “this is for you” he hands you a bouquet of red camellias.

You stop for a second, you never received flowers. Before you can answer him, your father's head is popping out of the living room.

“Why is it taking so long for you to bring this guy inside?”, he asks grumpy, he's not too happy about you dating but there's nothing he can do about it.

Chan straightens himself, walking to your father to greet him.

“Good night, sir. I'm Bang Chan”, he clears his throat when your father doesn't say a thing, just staring at him. “I brought this for you”, he shows the wine bottle and your father takes it.

“At least you have good taste”, he nods to the wine bottle Chan stole from his father's collection.

He turns around, shrugging to you and you smile, listening to your sister's chuckles. You take his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers.

In the living room there's a woman that looks too much like you and your sister to not be your mother, she smiles kindly at you two.

She's less intimidating than your father so Chan's greetings to her are less awkward this time. As time goes by, your parents warm up to him, making jokes and even telling him about your childhood.

“The night went great”, you say while walking Chan to his car. “Thank you for coming”

“Your parents are great”, he says, leaning on the door of his car. He takes your hands in his and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you for inviting me”

He looks so good tonight, his dark hair is carefully styled and he's wearing much more formal clothes than usual, making him look like a prince.

“Can I have a good night’s kiss?” He asks, slyly, seeing you eyeing him up. You nod, putting your hands on his chest and closing the gap between your mouths. Chan's hands slide from your waist to your ass, squeezing slightly, he can't get too into it since he won't be able to go further than a kiss tonight.

You pull away from him when you have to breathe, his lips are so inviting you could kiss him all night long.

“I will see you tomorrow”, he tells you.

There's something wrong with his heart, it's beating so fast he thinks he may be dying. After driving away from you, he calms himself a bit. It's not possible that you were the cause of that reaction, right? This is supposed to be fun, he only has to date you for a while and then break up, no strings attached. So why does he feel such hurt in his chest after thinking about leaving you?

After one more long and sleepless night Chan realized something: he is in love. This feeling snuck in so unexpectedly he didn't even notice he was falling in love. Chan never fell in love before, so he can only guess that this is how it feels to love someone.

He notices every little detail about you, he jokes around all the time waiting to hear you laugh about something he says. Chan likes the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you just look at him so focused while he is speaking. He is in love with your personality, your cleverness, your kindness, your beauty is just a bonus that makes him even more in love with you.

He wants to confess to you, ask you to be his girlfriend, to never leave him.

He even asked for your sister's help to make something for you, maybe a song, he can definitely make something beautiful and romantic for you. Maybe he can cook too, he wants to make you feel appreciated.

He's waiting for your class to finish, seated on the bench in front of the classroom while scrolling through his phone.

He feels someone sitting by his side and before he can look, a kiss lands onto his cheek. Chan puts his hand on his face, blushing and you laugh seeing his reaction. You two did much more than just a kiss on the cheek, why is he embarrassed about it?

“Did you miss me?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“Of course I did”, he grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. “Should we go to my place?” He asks and you nod, standing up, pulling him to get up too.

It's still a bit weird that you two are together, you never thought liking someone as much as you like Chan could actually happen to you, you could even say you're in love. The only thing that still makes you doubtful is the fact that he didn't ask you to be his girlfriend yet, you have been going out for a month and you do everything together, so why hasn't he made it official?

You still have many questions in your mind, sitting on Chan's bed while he makes popcorn and you choose the movie you're watching tonight.

He enters the room, closing the door and turning off the lights, two water bottles and a huge bowl in his hands.

“What movie did you choose?” He asks, but you can't hear it, your mind is too loud. “Y/N? Are you alright?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Are we exclusive?” You ask out of nowhere, ripping the air out of his lungs.

“Yes”, he says firmly, “do you want to be with other people?”

Chan asked that, but he's holding his breath until you answer him, hoping you're going to deny. For a moment, you don't say a thing and seeing you hesitate makes his heart ache.

“No, I-” you try speaking, trying not to sound ridiculous, “I want to be exclusive, I just don't know if you want that”

Chan takes a deep breath, putting the things he has in hands on the nightstand.

“Of course, I want to”, he takes your hand into his, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss the palm. He's feeling guilty, he's taking his time preparing a nice confession but you're feeling insecure. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't want things to get more serious”, he climbs on the bed, getting closer to you, “let me show you that you're the only one I want, hum? Can I?”

You suck on your teeth, knowing exactly what is about to happen but you just can't say no to him, let's be real, you don't want to say no to him. So you nod, making him smile.

Chan is eager to have you, he has been for weeks, just waiting for you to be ready to give yourself to him. He cups your face, pulling you closer and kissing you.

He helps you lay down on the bed, towering over you while landing kisses down your neck. You feel him biting on your shoulder and he brings his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. His hands travel around your body, making you hotter.

“You're so pretty, princess”, he says, kissing your chest. You whine, he's taking too much time to get to the place you want the most.

“Channie”, you whisper, “please, touch me”, you ask him.

His smile grows bigger as he mumbles “your wish is my command”. Chan unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing it someplace in the room.

He slides his hand down to your core, your underwear is soaked. He pulls your panties down your legs and brushes a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness before inserting a finger inside, you arch your back to the feeling. It's delicious, but it hurts a bit. It's different from how it feels doing it alone.

“Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. “You're such a good girl, baby, all wet and ready for me.” He whispers, getting closer to your face again. I'm going to put another one”, he tells you. The sensation it's too much already, his fingers are too much.

“Chan”, you moan, “I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that”

“Oh? But I didn't even get to the better part”, he answers pressing his thumb on your clit, making circles.

“Fuck”, you whine.

His smirk grows while he keeps the movement of back and forth inside of you. Before he can tease you more, your legs are shaking and your tight hole is clenching around his fingers. You put your hand on your mouth, covering it so you won't make a loud sound, but he doesn't like that. He wants to hear how well he's fucking you.

“Let's not do that, okay? I want you to be loud, want to hear you scream my name” He says, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them on his mouth. He comes closer, kissing your neck and face, helping you calm down after your orgasm.

Goosebumps rise all over your body, his kisses feel like fire on your skin, you thought you'd feel less horny after cumming, but you're still so turned on.

Chan kisses your chest, opening your bra. You feel embarrassed when he sees you completely naked.

“You're still dressed”, you point out, face red.

He gets out of the bed immediately, taking his shirt off and his pants too, crawling back to you in only his underwear. His cock is hard, outlined by the thin fabric of his boxers.

You feel the urge to touch him, maybe taste it. So you grab his length, making him groan.

“What are you doing, princess?” He asks, eyes closed from the pleasure of having your beautiful hands wrapped around him.

“I want to make you feel good”, you tell him, pushing his chest and making him fall on his back on the bed. You kiss his neck the same as he was doing to you, suddenly feeling possessive and sucking on the skin, leaving a few hickeys there.

You go down, kissing his chest and stomach, getting closer and closer to his throbbing cock. You pull his underwear down and his cock spring on your face.

“I just- you need to teach me”, you tell him. How can you look at him with such innocence in your eyes when you're about to suck him off?

“Hold the base”, he instructs, “now you can go up and down with your hand.”

 He feels your movements, making him groan. You are bolder than he gives you credit for, since you lick the head of his cock without being told to. You wrap his dick with your mouth, waiting for the next command.

“You can go up and down, princess, yes, like that” he moans, feeling his cock being embraced by your warm mouth.

Chan feels like exploding any time now, weeks of pent-up sexual tension being released. He sees you rubbing yourself on his bed while sucking on him, that just makes him crazier, he wants to make you feel good now, he can let you do the same for him another time.

“Baby”, you hear him say and you stop your movements. “I won't be able to last long with your soft mouth doing that, I need to feel you around my cock”

You nod, letting go of his cock and climbing up, stopping on top of Chan.

“I wanna be on top”, you say confidently.

“Let's do it slowly okay? I don't want to hurt you”, Chan tells you and you agree.

He grabs the base of his cock, brushing the head on your folds, trying to wet it enough to make it easier for you.

It feels like heaven when his cock finally slides inside of you, you're so tight he feels like he can cum at any moment.

Chan sees the pain in your eyes, he doesn't move, “do you want to stop?” He asks worriedly, putting his hands on your hips to stop you from moving but you shake your head.

You keep pushing it in, trying to relax. Chan kisses you, massaging your breasts to help you relax a bit.

When the painful part is gone and you're feeling all the good sensations back, you don't think you can stop, it's too addictive. You start riding on him freely, hands taking support on his chest and head thrown back, the pleasure is just too much, you'll be coming soon.

“Fuck, you look so good riding me, princess”, he says, feeling his own high almost catching him.

“Oh, Channie, I'm gonna cum”, you whine, fastening the movements of your hips, “please, oh, your cock feels so good”

For someone who couldn't talk about a wet dream a few weeks ago you sure talk dirty in real life, Chan chuckles, feeling you clenching around him and when you squeeze his cock for the last time he cums too, filling you up.

You collapse on top of him, breathing heavily. Your eyes are heavy, you're not sure if you can stay awake. Chan caresses your back and plays with your hair, making you fall fast asleep.

You wake up feeling just a bit sore. You're on cloud nine, the night was amazing. When you open your eyes, there's no one in the bed with you. You wrap yourself in the blankets trying to find and collect all your clothes scattered around the room.

The delicious smell that embraces your nose the moment you step out of the room, is enough to make you drool.

Chan is in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but sweatpants and an apron. That's right, he's shirtless. You're feeling bold today, so you get closer to him wrapping your arms around his waist in a back hug.

He lets out a laugh, putting his hand over yours and turning off the stove. He turns around, hugging you.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, kissing your forehead and you nod, snuggling in his embrace.

“Why didn't you wake me earlier? I woke up missing you”

“Ow, my baby is so needy”, he teases, making you pout. “I was making you, breakfast”

“Hm”, you look at what he was cooking.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, a bit worried, it was your first time after all.

“I'm doing great”, you smile, “just a bit sore, but it's nothing”

He nods, putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you around.

“I'm happy to hear that”, he kisses the top of your head, guiding you to take a seat on the table. “Let's eat so we can go for another round then”, he smirks.

—

“Jeongin is coming here today?” You ask your sister and she nods frantically while fixing her hair.

“He's coming to ask dad's permission to date me”, she giggles excitedly.

“Alright”, you smile seeing your sister so happy.

You're the one opening the door for Jeongin while your sister is getting ready, he's clearly nervous but he's trying to keep his smile.

“Hey!” You give space for him to enter, “Yuna is almost done”

He nods, looking around. Your sister comes down minutes later, leading Jeongin to the living room.

Your father is less hostile to him than he was to Chan, maybe it's because Jeongin is adorable.

After an hour of conversation, you go upstairs, you have a date tonight and need to get ready.

The memories from your night with Chan flood your mind making you giggle and kick your feet, they have been your most cherished thoughts lately. It's a struggle but you finally end your bath after probably an hour.

You walk back to your room, you're already late. However, you stop in front of your sister's room when you hear voices being a little bit too loud.

“You did what, Jeongin?” your sister's voice is a pitch higher than usual.

“I didn't think things would get out of hand”, Jeongin answers, are they fighting?

“In what world did you think that was a good idea?”

“I was desperate, I'm not proud of that”, he answers back.

“There's no excuse for you to ask Bangchan to date my sister”, she tries speaking lower but you still can hear them. Your whole world crumbles with that one sentence, what does she mean by that?

“I didn't do it to be mean, I know how hard it is for your sister to get to meet new people, I thought it would benefit the both of us”, he tries explaining. Your heart is beating too fast, the throbbing in your ears grows stronger and your legs are giving out.

“How am I supposed to tell her now? She is so happy” Yuna cries out. “Don't come any closer, get out of here”, you panic instantly, they can't see you there. But you're too slow, when you finally manage to move Jeongin is swinging the door open. He stops on his tracks, turning white on the spot.

“Y/N-”, he tries to speak, but you run to your room before he can say anything else.

You can't believe this is actually happening to you, you thought that someone finally liked you but everything was a lie? That's not possible, right?

You are going to go to Chan, you two have a date, and he is going to tell you that Jeongin is lying, that he was just joking.

The uber to Chan's apartment doesn't seem to show up fast enough and the ride there couldn't be slower. You're restless, fidgeting with your fingers and shaking your legs.

You pay the man, practically running out of the car and running upstairs. The person who opens the door is not Chan but Changbin, you met him a few times when you were visiting the apartment.

“Hey, y/n”, Changbin greets you. “Chan is not home, but he will be here soon, I heard you have a date”, he says, letting you in.

“I'm going to wait for him in his room”, you tell him, too disturbed to worry about proper manners.

You walk back and forth in the room, anxiously waiting for Chan's arrival. You hear his voice after twenty minutes, he's talking to his friend in the living room when Changbin tells him you're there.

You can hear the fast footsteps leading to where you are, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Hey, baby”, Chan smiles at you, dropping his bag on the floor and walking towards you with open arms. “Did something happen?” He stops, noticing your face.

You stare at him for a minute, brows knit together and eyes trying to find the least bit of sincerity in the time you two spent together.

“Did you ask me out as a favor to Jeongin?” You ask and his standing falter, how did you find out?

“L-let me explain”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“So you did”, you feel the tears trying to escape from your eyes.

“Please, just… just hear what I have to say”, he asks, trying to hold your hand, but you pull away from him.

“I don't want to hear a thing from you”, you tell him, running your hands through your hair.

It really was all a lie. How could you be so dumb?

You walk past him, trying to get out of the room, go anywhere but there. But Chan grabs your arm, making you stop in your tracks.

“Please, don't leave”, he begs. You feel a pang in your chest, but it doesn't make a difference since you're already hurting too much.

“You have no right to ask me that”, you pull your arm out of his grasp and walk out of the apartment.

It would be too humiliating to enter the uber while bawling your eyes out, so you decide to walk. You walk for a long time before your feet start hurting and your eyes are burning from how much you cried. You can't believe you really let yourself fall pray to such a scheme, you thought you were smarter than that.

It's obvious you only fell for it because it's Chan, you were attracted to him since the first time you laid eyes on him. You try to believe that it wouldn't be that easy to trick you if it was anyone else.

After at least two hours, you finally reach your house and you're feeling utterly miserable. You greet your parents and walk upstairs, anxiously searching for your room so you can finally let yourself fall and cry as much as you can.

Your sister is seated on your bed, biting on her nails. She stands up as soon as she sees you.

“I'm really sorry”, she says, teary.

You sigh, feeling the weight on your chest even heavier.

“It's not your fault”, you tell her. You start to undress, looking for your pajamas so you can snuggle on your bed until all of this passes.

“I shouldn't have started dating before you”, she whines.

“I don't blame you, so stop doing that to yourself”, you say, even though you feel a bit of resentment because Jeongin likes her truly, he likes her because she's her. Of course no one's going to like you, you're… you.

“But”, she bites on her lower lip, not sure if she should say this, “I think Chan really likes you-”, she stops talking when you give her the meanest glare you ever threw in someone's way.

“I don't want to hear it”, you say.

“He even asked help so he could confess to you in a way you would like”, she continues.

“I'm not going to repeat myself”, you say and your sister knows that tone too well, it's better for her to stay silent for the time being. “If you're done, I would like to be alone”

Yuna nods, glancing at you all the way to the door.

You collapse on your bed, finally able to cry your eyes out without people looking at you in a weird way. This is the moment you realize how much you love Bang Chan, the pain you're feeling is greater than anything you ever felt in your whole life, you truly don't think you'll be able to survive this.

Chan is an idiot, he knows this and you are right to never look at his face again. But even though he knows you're right, he can't accept the thought of you leaving him.

He tried calling and texting you, you blocked him. He tried talking to your sister, she cursed him out and told him to leave you alone. She and Jeongin are on bad terms right now but they didn't break up yet.

He tried to find you in the university, but you didn't show up for the entire week, he just doesn't know what to do.

“You are an idiot”, Hyunjin says after listening to the whole story, “you should have told her about it while you still had time”

“I didn't know I was in love”, Chan runs his hands through his hair, “not until it was too late”

His friend sighs, he just can't see Chan like that anymore. He's just miserable, he looks like he's dying and Hyunjin doesn't doubt it could actually happen at this point.

So as a good friend, he takes this matter into his own hands and calls your sister, trying to convince her to listen to Chan and maybe forgive Jeongin too, Hyunjin is tired of him whining all day long.

“Did you really call me here for this?”, Yuna asks, ready to grab her things and go home.

“Hear me out, okay?” He says. “I know what they did was wrong but they regret it, Jeongin even told you about it”

She huffs, crossing her arms.

“He told me because I was talking about how Chan wanted to ask y/n to be his girlfriend”, she says. “He felt guilty, he would have never told me about it otherwise”

“Chan really likes y/n, he really wants to be with her”

Yuna sighs, she knows that. There was no way Chan could fake the way he looked at you.

“She's not going to believe that”, Yuna says, “y/n is heartbroken, she's not even going to her classes. She just stays in her room all day, crying’

“There's nothing better to fix her broken heart then”, Hyunjin points out, “let's help them meet, they can talk things out that way”

“She doesn't want to see him”, Yuna sighs, “but I do think this is the best solution”

“Okay, I'll text you the day and time, just bring y/n, Chan will take care of the rest”

Yuna nods, collecting her things but before she can stand up, Hyunjin's voice sounds again.

“About Jeongin-”, he starts, but she cuts him off right away.

“This whole mess started because of Jeongin”, she takes a deep breath, “after y/n and Chan resolve this matter I'll see what I'm going to do about him”

Yuna turns around, leaving Hyunjin there. At least he got Chan a chance, he can't save everyone.

Chan can't take it anymore, he has to see you. So he musters all the courage he has and goes to your house. It doesn't help that it's 2 a.m. so everyone is sleeping, except you it seems, since there's light coming from your room.

He begins throwing rocks at your window, trying to make you notice him and after a few tries he sees your face popping out.

Chan wishes he didn't come at all, your face is puffy so he knows you have been crying and the way you're looking at him, it's just awful, he feels despicable. More than he has felt all this time without you.

“What do you want?” You ask, at least you didn't ignore him.

“Can you come down for a bit?”

You sigh, you don't actually want to, but you're afraid he'll make too much noise trying to convince you to go down and wake up the neighbors or even worse, your parents.

You close the window, he knew it would be hard, that you wouldn't want to see him. Before he can turn around and walk away, Chan hears the sound of the front door opening.

You are in your pajamas, holding yourself trying to protect your body from the cold air.

You stop in your tracks, looking at him with an intense gaze, like you can read all his thoughts and know about all his mistakes.

“How have you been?” He asks and you scoff.

“Are you here to survey my mood? I have been feeling like shit, what about you?” He remembers the first time he talked to you, how he wished to see you mad, now he regrets that. He never wanted to see you mad at him.

“I'm not well either”, he says.

You sigh.

“Now that we know how each other is feeling, you can go”, you tell him.

“Can you let me explain?” He pleads.

“Did you start dating me as a favor for Jeongin?” You ask and he sighs, nodding. “That's all I need to know, I would appreciate it if you don't come looking for me anymore”, you say, turning around and going back inside. Tears start running down your face while you go back to your room, when will this pain subside?

—

You are finally back at school, after moping around all day at home for an entire week, you decided it was time to get back to your life. Staying at home just made you feel worse, you didn't have a thing to distract yourself so you ended up thinking about Chan the whole time. That only weakened your resolve to forget about him, you avoided coming to school because you knew you would give in if he tried to approach you.

Your day goes by fast enough and you just want to go home to lay on your bed. You feel your phone buzzing, it's a message from Jeongin. You were so angry with Chan that you forgot to block him.

He should be begging to meet Yuna, so why is he asking to meet you? Maybe he wants your help to fix things between them.

You don't know why you decided to meet him, maybe it's curiosity to know why he did such a thing to you or maybe you want to look at his face and curse at him.

He arrives at the cafe at the set time, looking around for you and walking towards you when his eyes lock with yours.

“Hey”, he says, sitting in front of you. You don't say anything back, not in the mood to be polite.

Jeongin sighs, he expected this much.

“I wanted to talk with you about this whole situation, believe me I didn't mean to hurt you even though it ended up happening in the end-”

“I considered you my friend”, you say making him stop talking.

“I- I'm”, he says, voice a pitch higher.

“Friends don't do what you did”, you say and he nods.

“I know it was an ill executed plan, but my intentions weren't bad, I swear”, he tells you.

“And do your intentions matter if I was the one hurt in the end?” You ask, angrier now.

“No”, he answers. “I'm truly sorry, I swear, I just caught you staring at Chan more than once. I thought this would be good for us both but I was clearly wrong”

You huff, exhausted. You start collecting your things to go home but you hear Jeongin's voice once more.

“Chan really likes you, he fell in love with you”, he says and your heart skips a beat, it shouldn't be behaving like this, not after the heartbreak you are going through.

“I don't care, he lost his chance”, you answer firmly, even though you know it's not true.

“Are you sure?” Jeongin asks, “are you sure you won't regret it? Not let him explain or not hearing him out?”

You glance at him once more, before standing up and walking out of the cafe.

Your mid terms are finally over, that means, you don't have anything to study so you're stuck with your thoughts. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's a message from Yuna, asking you to meet her in the arts department.

You reply, saying you'll be there in a moment. What is she even doing there? She's a business major.

The arts department is not far from yours, but it's emptier than you are used to. She asked you to meet in the first classroom of the second floor.

When you open the door, the first thing you see is Bang Chan. He looks awful, worse than you even.

You try going back, but he already saw you, so he stands up, coming closer.

“Don't leave, I'll do anything just… don't leave”

He's pale, and the eyebags he normally has are darker than usual.

“Are you sick?” You ask, worried. It's not like you can stop loving him in such a short period of time, of course you're worried.

“No”, he says, “I mean, I'm not feeling well, but I don't think I have an illness”

You nod, feeling awkward. It's been a while since you felt this way about him.

“Okay, then I'll get going”, you say trying to leave, but his voice stops you.

“I love you”, he is desperate, you can hear it in his voice. However, you're too petty.

“This was part of Jeongin’s plan too?”, you scoff, seeing his lips trembling.

He takes a deep breath, he deserves that, he knows he does.

“I really started going out with you because Jeongin asked”, he starts explaining, “but I fell in love with you, for real”

You feel your heart ache once more, he's about to cry, you can see it. But you're not sure if you can forgive him, even if what he's telling you is true.

“I don't believe you”, you say, shrugging, trying to hold your own tears.

“I will do anything to prove it to you, just say what I need to do for you to believe me”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“I'm not sure if I'll be able to forget this or even forgive you, Chan”, you sigh, letting your heart speak and not your anger.

“I know I messed up, I don't deserve you I know that too”, he grabs your hand, “but please, I'll prove to you that I deserve a second chance, I'll earn back your trust”, he pleads.

You sigh, even after all this, it seems you still can't say no to him.

“I'm going to need some time”, you say slowly, “but I will give you a second chance, you better not ruin it”, you say.

Chan can't believe you're really going to try and forgive him, he can't ask for anything more.

“I won't disappoint you this time, I promise”, he says, kissing the palm of your hand, the same way he did before.

“Let's see about that”, you sigh, feeling your heart beating fast once again.

You may be making a stupid choice, but you'll only learn by making mistakes. You just sure hope this is not one.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

[tubareads]

Shaking, screaming, crying this story was so good 😭 Was in a bit of a reading slump and this grabbed me out of it by my neck. It was kinda fun to read a story based on new characters/ ones I don’t already know and the story itself sucked me in so much. Also, oc being so insatiable 🤭🥴😣 can’t blame her. Did so many things for my lil angsty heart, end was so 🥲😔

Also this was my first non k pop read in a miiiinute so that was fun!!

Predator & Prey

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

smut!Nonhuman

synopsis: You were suddenly teleported to a snowy world while discovering a cave. After norrowingly escaping a terrible fate, you're practically forced to deal with a winged beast you saved. It's awkward and kinda mean, but it does more good than harm.

warnings!: I think this counts as dead dove, there's some gore (stabbing, blood, bone breaking) in this chapter. there's also monsterfucking, but it's not in this chapter (no smut... yet), reader is also is a scary situation but you'll make it out okay :)

a/n: I love monster fucking, I am part of the community and I pray this reaches the right audience cuz im not tryna be shamed!

5.4k words

You wore a cute spring dress, being that it was Easter. You did not favor the color white or yellow, so you when with a shade of pink that went nicely against your skin. The dress was decorated with small flowers at the bottom of the dress that touched your mid thigh. You wore open-toed wedges made it a little difficult to walk in, but you could manage.

Though you liked hunting for eggs, pictures were probably your least favorite part. Then again, you're sure it was everyone's least favorite part. Your family was looking for another spot to take a picture, so you were free to explore the terrain of the area. Your family had chosen a secluded beach, not many people but too many caves. You opted to watch the beach, the waves softly splashing at your feet.

Your peace is broken by your younger sibling calling your name, signaling that your parents have found a place for pictures. With a sigh, you grab your shoes and walk barefoot on the sand. Then you feel it, a cold breeze washes over you that send chills down your spine. Your head whips around, arms wrapping around your body as you look at your surroundings. Sure it was windy, but it shouldn't have been that cold.

You're about to ignore it when you feel the gust of wind again, now realizing it's coming from the cave to your right. You narrow your eyes to look inside, unsure of what you might see.

Nothing.

You step closer, ignoring your sibling's yelling as you walk into the cave. The empty cave, save for the water on the ground and the...icicles on the ceiling?

The ground starts to viciously shake, your arms stretching out to find something to balance on. One arm grabs onto the side of cave while the other block the top of your head to prevent the icicles from falling on you.

An earthquake, you think as you fear for you life and your family's. They should be safe, given that they're outside. You though? You're not entirely sure. After a few more seconds, the ground stops moving, the water stops splashing so aggressively. You release a breath you didn't know you were holding and turn, running back to your family to check on them.

The cold hits you immediately, your arms go back to wrapping across your body. You think you're hallucinating, dreaming. Those icicles must've hit your head leaving you unconscious. But why does it feel so real? The painful chill you're body is experiencing, the chattering of your teeth, the snow that falls from the sky, why is it all so real?

You take tentative steps forward, eyes scanning the frosty trees and ears hyper fixated on the crunch beneath your feet. Toes and fingers are the first to go in frostbite, so you bend down to put your shoes back on. You sink into the snow, but it's either this or chopping your feet off.

"Mom?! Dad?!" You yell. You strain to hear any response, but you're left with deafening silence. You sniff, eyes starting to water. You're scared, the overwhelming scene of loneliness quickly starting to get the best of you.

You shake your head aggressively, the heated curls on your head hitting you in the face. Crying won't fix anything, it'll only make things worse. With a few deep breaths, you manage to maintain your composure.

Okay first things first, you think, get warm. Most people would advise you to stay where you are when you're lost, but in this case, that's the last thing you should do. You look at where the sun is, determining that it's a little past the afternoon. People who live in the snow build their houses on the East, so maybe if you head in that direction you'll find something?

"Oh my god," you say aloud, finally accepting the predicament you're in.

"I'm fucked."

-

You were about to give up on your pursuit of finding warmth until you saw a large house, or building. It was far, but it was there. Your body was shivering, and you know your snot and tears were frozen on your face, but the mere sight of a home had you running.

Your wedges quickly came undone, leaving your barefooted to run in the burning snow. You didn't care though, and the view of the house-no mansion quickly came into view. It was bigger than you anticipated, but you could only cry of joy when you ran up the steps and banged on the door.

It didn't matter if you looked like a crazy woman, it didn't matter how disgusting your face was, what mattered was being thrown in a fire.

"Hello?!?!? Excuse me?!?!" Your voice was loud, demanding to be heard. Both your hands were banging harshly on the door, you would apologize for being so rude later.

Finally the door swung open, an older lady in white and black greening you.

"What in names heaven do you think you're- Oh my goodness!" She quickly took in your physical state. She grabbed you by the hand and yanked you inside, shutting the door.

"Grace?" Another voice called from deeper inside the house. "Who was it?"

The lady, who you now know was Grace, waved a dismissive hand. "Run me a hot bath! Quickly! Quickly!" Grace was practically pushing you inside, up the stairs while your feet struggled to keep up. You were shivering too much, tears clouding your vision that you could barely see where you were going. But you could feel the warm embrace of heat.

You were shoved into a room, clothes quickly being stripped off before you could complain. Grace along with other women lifted you and placed you in a bath. You yelped in pain, the heat of the water was too much. If they heard you, they ignored you. Rather, they dunked a bucket of water over your head, warming every part of your body.

After clearing your face, you finally took in the way the bathroom looked, if you could call it that. It was unbelievably big, a large window stood in front of you. Then you looked the women who were scrubbing you, varying from ages. Yet, it was clear the Grace was the one in charge, easily giving orders the other ladies listened to. They were all dressed the same, as if it was uniform.

"Do you guys...work here?" You ask.

Your voice broke their concentration, eyes narrowing at you. "Maids tend to work where they live, yes," Grace answers, as if it's the most obvious answer. Maids? You think, who has maids nowadays? Before you can ask another question, Grace speaks.

"Are you feeling better? Can you move?" Her eyes can your body from underneath the body, and now is it that you become aware that you're nude. You can't cover yourself though, the other women were busy cleaning your arms and scrubbing your head.

You nod deciding that this must be a frequent occurrence for them, "Yeah, it's just a little hard to move my fingers." She nods, turning to the door. "That's normal," she starts, "I'll find you something to wear. Girls..." her head turns to her workers, "Get her dry."

With multiple yes ma'am's they pull you out of the water, leaving you to bare to the window. A small shriek leaves your lips, you quickly tell them you can dry yourself. They instead giggle at your little outburst, gently pulling you out of the tub.

"Please don't worry yourself miss," one of them says. It's only then that you notice their accent. It had a slight lisp to it, like a gentle pirate who was sophisticated.

"You'll be fine with us. For now, we should get the hearth going. Need to warm yourself yes?" Another was grabbing the towel, wrapping you tightly. Before you could say something, there was loud clanging. Muffled, but loud enough. You peer outside the two-story window and see a cage. There were three people, men you think, poking at the cage with what seemed like a stick. Whatever was in the cage was not happy, thrashing around angrily.

"Please miss, pry you eyes away. It's unwise to look upon such a beastly thing," another girl pulls you away from the window, using smaller towels to dry your hands and feet.

You remain silent, allowing them to dry your body. You hear a couple of them whispering near the door.

"I hear she came with ill clothes, indecent for a young lady in this cold," one whispers. "She must not be from here. Perhaps she was in an accident and got lost," the other reasons.

Before you could say anything, the door swings open, almost hitting the two gossiping girls. Grace waltz in, a large dress in her hands. She sets it on the stool nearby and with a wave of her hand, dismisses a few of the girls.

"I believe this will fit rather nicely. These girls will do your hair and such," Grace announces.

"Actually," you start, "I'm just lost. I don't know where I am and-" Grace laughs, though you didn't say anything funny. "I understand your worries, but I believe you should concern yourself with other things. Do you know whose house you're in?" Her eyes glint with curiosity. I shake my head, "Like I said, I'm lost and I need to find my-"

"You are in the home of Lord Lukas," Grace interrupts again. You're starting to grow irritated, close to snapping at this lady. She helped you though, clothed and bathed you; you bite your tongue.

"He is the famous monster hunter, and you stumble in here wearing heavens knows what in the winter. You have stirred the pot in such a way, miss. Perhaps I pry too much, but are you...interested in the lord?"

You furrow your eyebrows. The ladies behind you are dead silent, waiting for your response. You take a deep breath, "I don't want to talk about this naked."

The ladies gasp, as if you had said a terrible thing. They quickly grab the dress from Grace and bottles from the bid dresser behind you. Without a word, grab at your towel, but you hold it tightly.

"Can I dress myself?!" You shout, losing your composure. The ladies look at one another then at Grace. For a moment, Grace eyes you suspiciously. She lets out a sigh and nods, "Leave her girls. We need to prepare for dinner."

-

You have decided that not only are you in a completely different area, but surrounded by old technology. No hair dryer, heated pipes for the bath, stained windows, the smell of old wood, it's not current trends. Perhaps this place prefers the older times, but the accent, the outfits...

No, you're getting distracted. You need to get home, and you should start by heading back from where you came from. Or is this just a very realistic dream? You would normally wake up the moment you recognized you were dreaming, but this time you stayed in this fictional world.

One thing was sure though, you were not putting that dress on. It was beautiful yes, but too many layers. It had a corset much too small for your body and was unnecessarily big. After some digging around, you found outfits that were similar of that to that maids. It would be much easier to walk in, and put on.

You dried your hair as much as you could before brushing it out with a long toothed comb. There was some make up on the dresser as well, you touched it curiously. It definitely was old, the style, the smell. You decided to not put any on, scared of the chemicals it may have.

When you opened the door, you were in another room. A bedroom. You gasped, if you thought the bathroom was huge, this was gigantic. A big, red, plush bed in the middle, a fireplace from where you were exiting was lit, a long window on the right, and an even bigger dresser on the left. It was straight from a fairy tail.

Now you understood why the dress was so big, so grand; Because this entire mansion was lavish. You were given that dress to fit the aesthetic. You walked around the room, unsure if it was even the one you were temporarily given.

You made your way to the window, your hand touching the cold glass. You looked down, seeing the cage they ladies had told you to not look at. You saw the...beast...huddled in a corner, conserving it's warmth. You pouted, feeling bad for this pure black creature. It was hard to make it out, but it looked like it was enveloping itself in wings.

"That's a big ass bird," you mumble.

Knocking at the door startles you, turning your head to see who was opening the door. You relaxed when you saw one of the ladies who was attending to you in bath.

"Miss, it is time for- What! Oh no dear, that is not what you should be wearing," she promptly shuts the door, speed walking to you."This is completely unacceptable. If the Lord saw you think this..." she trails off. She hurries to the closet you hadn't noticed, swinging its doors open.

"Yeah sorry," you apologize, "I didn't think I would feel comfortable in that dress so I put this on instead." She ignored you, rummaging for something that you can wear.

"You will be in the presence of the Lord of this house, miss," her tone is clipped, "I understand you are not from here, but he is someone of power. I assume even a place where you're from would have someone power?"

She doesn't bother to wait for you answer, instead pulling a golden color dress out. It's doesn't look puffy at all, instead like an easy slip on. It glitters in the light, you notice a slightly deep v-line. The maid gently places it on the bed.

"Put this on miss. I will be outside your door, please dress quickly," and with that she leaves.

You take one more glance outside the window and make your way to the bed, reaching for the dress. It really is pretty, and it's long enough to have leg room, but not enough to have you trip. You nod, satisfied with this dress.

You slip into it, feet first. It goes over you easily, and you reach behind to tie it together. It proved harder than you thought and you struggle horribly. You pace around the room trying to lace the string though its holes, facing the window as if the scenery will help.

You let out a loud, frustrated groan. The bird in the cage jolts, and your eyes widen. Did it hear you? You watch as it lifts its head up, looking around until it meets your eyes. You gasp, looking into its black, human-like eyes. You stumble backwards with a hand covering your mouth, what was that?

"Miss?" The maid reappears, probably from hearing your frustration.

You close your eyes, your head is playing tricks on you. You're in an unfamiliar place and your brain in panicking, unsure of how to take in its surroundings. Plus the bird was far away, you could be mistaking things.

"My dress," you choke out, "I can't do the back."

Wordlessly, she goes behind you, tying the the back of the dress in a criss-cross manner. Your heartbeat is wild, loud in your ears and throat. You're suddenly remained of how utterly lost and alone you are, no longer interested in playing pretend. You sniff, tears softly falling down your face.

The maid notices this, she gently pats your shoulder. She turns you around and wipes your years with her thumb, smiling softly at you. "I'm so sorry that you are lost miss. Lord Lukas is a very powerful man and I'm sure he can help you. Do not fret please."

You nod, grateful for her encouraging words. "I just really wanna go home."

"And you will," she promised, "But I'm sure you're famished, let's eat first."

-

Lord Lukas was younger than you anticipated, less than 10 years younger than you. His parents died, leaving him with a massive fortune and to carry the legacy of being a monster hunter. He loved talking about himself, you had only managed to tell him your name and how you got lost.

If you shut off your brain, it was easy to accept that you had somehow teleported to a different world. You didn't want to think about it too much, how there must be millions of different worlds and millions of portals to them. You were the unlucky soul that stumbled upon one, and you needed to go to the right one to get home. See? Wasn't too hard to understand if you didn't think too much about it.

You poked at your food, your appetite was nonexistent. It looked good though, cooked meat with boiled veggies and unique looking rice. At least you think it's rice. The man siting across from the table was still stuck on how you ended up here. Portals were thought the be a myth, yet here you are.

"So you're just looking for a family?" He asks, shoving a broccoli in his mouth. "Yes, my family," you stress. You briefly met his eyes, they were a light green. He smiled.

"And you said you were near the sea when this happened?" You nod. He hums, "I've always wanted to visit the sea. I've only seen pictures and I think it's quite beautiful." "Yeah it's nice," you agree, "The sand gets annoying though.

He laughs softly. He leans forward, eyes going down to your cleavage. You grimace. It doesn't matter what title a man has, he will always be a pig.

"You smell like lavender," he notes, "I love that smell." You laugh awkwardly, "Uh, yeah the girls had good soap."

"So," he says, eyes never leaving yours, "you're with your family when you stumble in a cave, appear here with no idea of how, and now you're at my place, lost. Looking for refuge?"

"Yup, pretty much," you nod. "But I dont need...refuge. I just need to go back home. I don't know what being a monster hunter means, but you must know about fantasy things like that. I don't have money to give but I went to school and-"

He starts laughing, hysterically actually. The words in your throat get caught, and you're replaying what you said in your head to see what was so funny.

"Unbelievable! You're a a great jester I give you that," he says, wiping a tear from his eye. "You don't need to lie, sweetheart. I don't know who put you up to this trick, but it's quite admirable." He stands and walks around the table so he's behind you. You stiffen, head turning so he never leaves your sight. "What are you taking about?" You ask.

"Many know that I am without wife. I've heard the complaints of how they worry about who will carry the monster hunter title, about who will inherit my fortunes. You are lost? No family? With no way back?" He laughs again, "It's a very intricate plan, and I'm almost impressed with how well they know what I fancy most in a woman."

He leans down in you ear, breath disgustingly hot, "I suppose you're hungry for something else. Yes?"

His hand appears on your shoulder, trailing down to your breasts before you shove him off. You stand from your seat, chair falling from how forceful your movement was.

"The fuck?! Don't fucking touch me!" You yell. You grab a stake knife from the table and hold it, aimed at him. "I don't know who you are and I don't give a fuck! I'm not going to play dress up anymore, you sick fuck."

Lukas raises his eyebrows, surprised by your outburst. He smooths a hand over his face and smiles again, "Did they also tell you that I enjoy the chase? I love it when they fight back."

His words send a chill though your body, you nearly gag. "You're sick. Stay the fuck away from me."

His smile widens more, "And I just adore your accent, I wonder how it will sound when you submit to me."

You run with the knife in hand, choosing to go out the back door rather than the front. The sun is setting, giving the snow a pretty pink glaze color. You would admire it if you weren't being pursued. Lukas is fast behind you, but if you manage to make it though the clutter of trees, you might have a chance.

No one is outside, no one was at the dinner. Did he send them away so he could have you alone? Did he plan this out?

You yelp when you're tackled into the snow, face first. The knife falls out of your hand and you're left defenseless. He yanks your hair so your head is up, he presses a knee into your lower back. "You're a lot faster than I anticipated, but no matter."

You trash in his hold, but he only digs his knee deeper into you. You cry out in pain, hands scratching at what you can manage.

"Gosh you are so full of energy!" He exclaims. "Keep this up, you will tire in no time."

He maneuvers you so you lay on your back, but this gives you more room to kick and hit. You do manage to get a few good punches in, but he grabs the top of your head and slams you into the ground. Your head rings from the impact, a groan leaving you.

"You...dick..." you strain out, spitting salvia in his face. He puts all his weight on your stomach, hands gripping your throat. He lifts one of his hands and backhands you, you head harshly turning to the right. Then you see the cage, it's no less than 20 feet from you. The bird is still huddled in its corner, but its eyes peer to you. The poor animal has been out in this snow for who knows how long and it's still alive. For some reason, it gives you strength. Despite the tears in your eyes, you see the glint of you knife. Lukas's hands violently tear at the top of your dress, trying to rip it.

For a moment, just for a moment, he loses his grip on your throat. You take this opportunity to headbutt him right on the nose, and you hear a satisfying crunch when you do. His hand cradles his broken nose, and you strike him with the heel of your palm while he was stunned. You manage to get half his weight off you and you reach for the knife.

He sees this and grips your hair again, but it's too late, you've already grabbed it. You turn and stab him in the neck, surprised by how how hard it is to sink in. You pull the knife out and stab again hard, blood spraying on your face and fingers. He cries out, hands grasping yours to pull away. His eyes meet yours and you see it, fear. Genuine fear that makes the hair on your neck stand. With a cry you took the knife out and stab a third time, this time digging so deep your fingers could feel the insides of his throat.

He gurgles, blood pooling from his mouth and neck as he opens his mouth to speak, but you drop his body on the ground before he gets the chance to. You sob wrecks through you, you hadn't notice the tears running down your face until now. You were wailing, weeping from your dire situation and the dying body next to you. In the movies, they had died so quick, almost gracefully. But this was messy, blood was all over your dress, hands, the knife, the snow. His hands were weakly trying to cover his wounds, to stop the blood from flowing out.

You needed to get out of here, it was only a matter of time before they came looking for Lukas. Or his body at least.

You stand on your shaky legs, wiping your tears and keeping a steady hold on the knife. 'This isn't real," you tell yourself. "You're fine. You're alive. You'll be okay."

You look up and see that you facing the cage, but the bird is no longer hunched over. Though the cage is much too small for it to stand, it crouches eyes trained on you. It's no bird, not with a human body like that. Its skin is pale, nearly grey with a head a black hair. It's nails are inhumanly long, its feet shaped like a birds. It's wings are cramped, tightly tucked beneath its back. You could still see it's dark feathers, and the tail that swishes unsettling. It could pass for human if you ignored its pitch black eyes. You knew for sure it was a male, it wore no clothes despite having a similar male anatomy.

It looks like a nightmare, but more human than the corpse behind you. Its eyes look at you then the lock, signaling you on what it wants. Despite everything you laugh. This monster had seen you fight for your life and all it asks if you to free it.

"I don't have the keys," you say, though you know it can't understand you. Its eyes flicker to the man you killed, then to the lock, then at you. You shiver, it can understand you. You look behind you and shudder, you had killed someone.

"Are you serious?"

It doesn't respond, instead shifting anxiously in its cage. Who knows how long it's been in there, in the cold. You let out a sign, rubbing your face. You know you're smearing blood all over yourself, but you don't care.

You turn to the body, reaching for keys. You keep your eyes closed, instead feeling around for the item. Finally, you feel a bundle of metal in the pockets of the dead man, pulling them out. It's a hoop of keys that jingle in your hands, and the beast behind you clatters in excitement.

You stand and head to the cage, grabbing the lock. There must be around 10 rings on this key holder, and you're not sure how long it will take to try them all. The first one is a no go, no even fitting in the hole. The second one fits halfway, and no matter how deep you tried to shove it in, it just wouldn't go in.

The human-like monster inside the cage paces, obviously anxious about being free. You were trying the third one when you could hear shouting from the house.

"Where is the Lord?" "Shouldn't he be done by now?" "Go look for him!"

The beast and you lock eyes. You don't know if you have the time to open his cage, and he knows it. But the way it's looking at you, so much hope and pleading, you feel a pang of guilt.

"I'll keep trying okay? But don't expect me to get captured for you okay?" You go back to the task at hand, the third one did not fit. Your fingers start to go numb from the cold, it takes a while for you to fit the 4th key in. Though it manages to slide in, it doesn't turn.

"Fuck," you whisper, struggling to grab the fifth key. Then you hear the door swing open, and 4 men tumble out. "Hey!" One of the shouts, and you whimper. The beast gets close to your face, eyes never leaving you. It's a silent plea, just try one more key. You should go, you should run, but you don't.

You shakily shove the fifth key in, ignoring how close the sound of running is getting. It turns, and grants you a soft click! "Holy shit, it's op-"

You yelp, hair being yanked back from the cage. The man who has you hostage is angry, eyes bulging from his sockets as he regards you. "You whore! You damned heathen!" You throws you harshly on the snow, your fingers numbly try to grasp anything, but it's so hard to move them.

"Captain. He's dead," one man says, next to the body of your assaulter. While a 2 men attempt to revive the body, the other two draw their weapons. "You fool! Do you know what you've done?!" "A stupid whore like you could have never killed a man. Who were you with? What did you plan? Where is your-" The captain is cut off quickly by a screech.

You hear the slash of flesh, blood spreading on you. The captain stands as he clutches his stomach, entrails exposed to you. Before the man beside him can react, he's grabbed and yanked into the sky. Your eyes follow up, watching as the winged beast takes him high into the clouds before he dropped him. His body lands 10 feet away from you, a nasty sound emits as his body snaps.

You scream, covering your face and head to shield your eyes. You put yourself face down into the snow, trying to ignore the sound of men screaming and flesh tearing. Your body is shaking from fear rather than cold. You don't know what type of monster you let free from its cage, but it's certainly out for revenge.

Finally it stops, but you can't stop sobbing. You didn't want to kill anyone, you didn't want anyone else to die. You just wanted to go home. You wish you were taking those stupid fucking pictures instead of enduring this fantasy nightmare.

The sound of feet crunching gets your attention and it stops right in front of you. You slowly lift your head up, quieting your sobs as you recognize the bird-like feet in front of you. Your head keeps going up, finally seeing the beast stand bare in front of you. You sniff and stand, surprised by how tall it is. It's taller than any human man, that's for sure. You barely reach its torso, needing to look up to see its face.

It leans down, and you gasp when a snake like tongue darts out of its mouth. It tastes your face, touching he tears and blood that stain it. It puts its tongue away and swaps it for another, a much bigger and thicker one. You close your eyes as it licks your cheeks, collecting the saltiness. You let out soft whimpers while it cleans you, hand softly gripping your chin so it can tilt your face in his direction. When he's satisfied, he grabs your hands. He brings them to his face and he licks your fingers, drinking the dried blood on them. It purrs at the taste, greedily taking it all.

Once he's done you open your eyes, gently pulling away from him. Its wings spread out from him, larger than any bird you've ever seen. Each wing is longer than his height, covered in dark feathers. You take a step back, finally looking at him at his full height. He still looks like a nightmare yes, but so beautifully scary.

"I need to get home," is all you say. You know it can understand you, perhaps it was trained by humans. "I don't know where I am or when I am? Oh god what am I even saying." You bury your face in your hands. You're going to cry again.

A gentle hand finds your shoulder, another gently pats your head. "You will be okay, human." You gasp at its voice. It's so deep and slightly scratchy, as if he hasn't spoken in a long time. You look up at it, mouth agape. "You can speak?" You muster.

It's face does not change, only giving you a simple nod. "You will be fine, but first we must leave. You have killed a Lord, and I his guards. You will be safe, but not here. Come."

It reaches its clawed hand at you, waiting for you to take it. You look at the hand then at the house. Should you trust this creature and leave with it? Or go back the way you came in a place you're completely unfamiliar with? A rock and a hard place.

You look at it in the eyes, searching for any indication of what it wants, but it just stares back. You notice you can see some white of its eyes, his pupils must expand exponentially when he's full of adrenaline.

You let out a shaky breath and grab his hand, "Guess we should go then."

a/n: this is the first chapter! this story is still in the works but I think im on the last chapter! ill post the second chapter tmr or something

[tubareads]

Just let me into your mind just once please! Just a lil sneak peek, cause what you’ve got going on in there is golden. Whenever I’m in my Huening Kai feels, I go straight here cause this story eats like no other. The yearning in this is *chefs kiss* Like, oc acknowledging that if she spends too much time with Kai that she’ll fall, just to go ahead and fall. Wow, wow, wow. The scene outside the car? I’ll literally reread it directly after reading it once cause I need time to process it, it’s that good. Omg, and thirsty Yeonjun? Not a want, a need. Each chapter is so good and can really stand on its own, but together whew. There are so many moments that live in my head rent free (jealous Kai) and have me fanning my neck. If you can’t tell, I really enjoyed this story, lol

After Everything

virgin!hueningkai x fem!reader

part 1 here | part 2 here

synopsis: You thought coming to terms with how you feel about Kai was going to be the hardest. But how he feels about you is a whole other animal itself.

warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, PIV, no protection (bad), loss of virginity (m!), handjob, nipple play (f!), over stimulation (m!), cock warming (if you squint), slight mentions of pregnancy, emotions, insecurities, kinda angsty, possessive reader, happy ending, idk man

5.2 words (fuck im sorry)

If there was one thing you could count on Yeonjun for, it was his stubbornness. Ever since the little show you and Kai put on for him, he's been consistent in asking for a part two. 

Yeonjun caught you in the cafeteria on campus. He’s wearing a flowy white button-down, sharp clavicle and lean arms on show. It would’ve been truly delightful to see him like this, but you just can't muster the ability to be attracted to him.

"Just one more time! One more, that's all I ask. You don't even have to fuck me. I'll even pay you..." You tune out Yeonjun's begging. It's a little difficult considering he's sitting right next to you, not letting you get a bite of your overcooked pizza in. But there's so many thoughts swirling in your head that it's not possible to pay attention anyway.

You’d done something you promised yourself you'd never do with Kai.

You went to his dorm.

Consistently.

Going to someone's place gives you an insight of who they are. He had a nice roommate, a decent space, and privacy. You told yourself it was convenient to have fun at a house rather than finding a secluded area. 

Wanting that alone time meant something. You didn't want to tease him like this anymore, you didn't want someone to see how he could fall apart at the mere feel of your lips.

He was yours to tease, to touch. No one else should have the privilege of getting a taste of that, no matter how they beg.

"Are you even listening to me?" Yeonjun accuses. 

It takes a couple of blinks for you to focus your attention on him. "If I said no, would you stop bothering me?" He laughs and crosses his legs, "Nope."

You sigh, giving up on your half eaten dinner. Yeonjun is quick to catch your annoyed expression, deciding to take another route.

"You like him huh?"

You turn your head to make eye contact, "Like who?" Yeonjun gives you a sly smile and shrugs, "You know who. I don't know why you're playing dumb."

"I'm not playing dumb," you say defensively. "You're the dumb one." 

Yeonjun chuckles at your little outburst. "No you are. You're blowing me off for Kai. Blowing me off, I'm almost offended. Like, I know you've been distant, but it's not the 'I found someone better and I don't need you anymore' distant. It's the 'I'm head over heels for someone like a loyal dog' kinda distant."

"I'm not a dog!" You yell. A few nearby people look at you weirdly, but you shake them off.

"So you're loyal then," Yeonjun muses. He shrugs again and leans back when you don't say anything. "It's written all over your face babes. Puppy love. With Huening Kai no less, who would've thought. The very same boy you used to slap around, give swirlies in the toilet back in middle school, who you made eat my cum, may I remind you."

You wince at the memories, guilt eating at you from the distant past. You excused your actions by youthful stupidity, by the irrational joy you got when seeing his tears. Even now, you like tasting them. But hurting him isn't how you want to continue. 

"Kai doesn't mean shit," you lie. It's so obvious though. You wouldn't believe it yourself. Yeonjun only makes you feel worse when he keeps smiling like an idiot. 

"Oh, he doesn't mean shit?" He questions. 

You meekly nod.

"Then it shouldn't matter that he's out with some girl then right?"

You sit up straighter and look wide-eyed at Yeonjun, "What?"

Yeonjun picks at his teeth like he's bored, but he has the most amused expression. "Just came back from a bar with Soobin before I saw you. Saw Kai and some chick there, she was chatting him up. Not that it matters though right?"

There's no time wasted when you grab your things. Your bag aggressively slings on your shoulder, almost hitting Yeonjun in the face. "What bar?"

"I thought you said he didn't mean shit?" He teases.

"For fucks sake Yeonjun what bar!" 

Yeonjun glances uneasily at the onlookers giving you dirty looks, but you couldn't care less. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears, the tightening in your chest. You think you might cry out of frustration if he keeps playing with you.

"I'll only tell you if you promise-"

"Yes!" You rise to your feet, seething. "You wanna see me get fucked? Done. Just tell me what bar."

-

Beomgyu's Bar is for college students only. The sun has barely begun to set, so there's not many people in the building. It doesn't take long to spot Kai's black hair peeking from one of the booths. He's with the same girl from the library you recognize. She obviously did her hair nicely, as if she wanted to impress him.

As if it was a date.

Anger boils in you, but you can't will yourself to move. Now that you're actually here, you don't know what to do. Should you go over there and make your presence known? Steal Kai away like last time? Should you just watch and see how things unfold?

That feeling of helplessness settles in your chest, and you feel the unfamiliar sting of tears in your eyes.

This was a dumb idea. You have no right being here, concerned about who Kai’s with. Not after how you've treated him, how you've talked down to him. Still, you can't stop staring at him from across the room.

Kai must feel your gaze because his head turns from the girl he's talking with to you instead. He recognizes you immediately even under the strobing lights. Your eyes widen at the attention, and you scramble for the exit. 

He jumps to his feet to follow you instantly, ignoring how his companion tries  to pull him back down by the sleeve.

"Where are you going?" She asks. "Do you wanna leave? We can go back to my place and-"

"I'm so sorry Anitta but I really need to do something," Kai doesn't even look her in the eyes. He focuses on freeing himself from her grip.

"Now? It can't wait?"

"No," He deadpans. "Can you please let go?"

"But Hyuka-"

"Don't call me that!" Kai surprises himself with the outburst. Not many people call him that nickname, only you've been consistent with the title since elementary. Strangely, it just sounds wrong when someone else says it. 

The sternness in his voice makes Anitta loosen her grip just enough for Kai to run away. There's no protesting as Kai runs out of the bar, his goal set on finding you.

You left merely a minute ago, you shouldn't have gone far. Kai spots you in the parking lot, looking in your bag for your keys. He doesn't know why you were there, or what to say, but what he does know is that he needs to be with you.

Within a few long strides, Kai reaches you. 

He doesn't need to say anything for you to know he's there, you can feel the warmth of his body behind you. With shaky breaths, you slowly turn to face him. You try to discreetly wipe your tears before you fully face him, sniffing. 

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?" You hate yourself for being snarky, but what else are you supposed to do? Fall to your knees and ask for forgiveness? Tell him that you can actually be a decent human being despite the decade of torture?

Kai doesn't let your sarcastic words get to him - he’s used to them. Still, you can see a twinge of pain in his eyes. "You know that's not true," His voice is barely above a whisper. As if he might scare you away if he talks too loudly. 

"Isn't it?" Your voice rises. You don’t share his concern for volume. "At a bar of all places! So what,you get a taste of pussy and think you can get it all?"

Kai looks like his eyes might bulge from their sockets at your crudeness. He shakes his head feverishly, "No! It's nothing like that. She offered to go out-"

You put your hand up, silencing him. "I don't wanna hear it. It's better to have a slut like me to learn how to fuck than go with a good girl. I made it really easy for you didn't I? Here I was, thinking I was being too much of a bitch to you when really-"

"Stop!" Kai finally raises his voice. Your voice dies in your throat. Never has Kai commanded, let alone yelled, at you. There's a certain determination in his eyes that you've never seen before. It makes your heart speed, your legs tremble.

"Stop calling yourself that," Kai speaks softer this time. "Calling yourself...names. I never even thought those things about you. Ever. I mean, I do think about you, but not like that."

Despite being angry a second ago, your chest flutters at his confession. "...You think about me?"

As if realizing what he said, Kai blushes. It takes a moment before he nods, eyes finding the asphalt beneath his feet. "Yes. A lot actually."

You're still hesitant about it though, "Because I'm a bitch to you?"

Kai's head snaps up and he shakes it again, "No! Not at all..." He trails off for a moment, as if reconsidering what he said. The pause makes your heart clench. You should have known. Years of bullying would always stick no matter how much you sucked his dick.

"Well, you are...mean to me," he confirms. "But it's more than that. I kind of want you to do that to me. It's weird, and I honestly think there's something wrong with me. I just wanna be your dog sometimes."

Now it's your eyes that widen, a small laugh escaping into the air. 

Since being with Kai more, you've caught on that he tends to say outlandish things. You would pretend that it was stupid and make fun of him for it, but you've always thought it was cute. 

"Sorry," he gives you a sideways smile. "But it's true. Whether you treat me like a cat or a dog, I just wanna be with you. Yes, you gave me a hard time growing up. And yes...a part of me is still scared of the next thing you'll have me do."

You open your mouth to reassure him that it won't happen again, but he beats you to it.

"But I'd do it. I'd do it again even if it meant brushing my teeth for hours. If it meant having to buy new underwear all the time because of the stains. None of it matters to me except you."

"Hyuka..." You can taste your tears on your lips. You don't deserve this, him. Yet here he is, using his shaky hands to wipe your tears.

"I'm serious. If you don't want me to see her again I won't. Just tell me what to do-"

"No," you choke back on your sobs. "Hyuka how can you still want me after everything I've done to you? I'm a horrible person. I've made you do horrible things. I've treated you horribly. Even now, I ruined your date and made it all about me."

Kai's warm touch is soothing to your wrecked state. You can hear cars pulling up and people walking. If they're watching you and Kai, he must not care to notice. His gentle grasp on you stays, his eyes never leaving yours. 

"You're not a horrible person, and you didn't ruin anything. I've been trying to find an excuse to leave anyway. You saved me if anything," Kai admits. 

Your hands clasp over his, your thumb stroking the back of his hand. You both stand in silence, letting your breathing even out. Kai is patient as ever, softly humming under his breath.

That's another habit you've picked up on. You can sometimes hear him sing in the shower, when he's choosing a movie to put on for background noise.

"Oh wow," Kai sounds in awe. You blink a few times to see him looking up, and you mimic his movement. The sun has nearly fully settled, giving the sky a beautiful blue hue.

"It's the blue hour," he says mindlessly. "Isn't it beautiful?."

Your gaze settles on Kai's features. His strong jawline, the little bump in his nose, his full bottom lip. "Yeah," you agree, eyes fixed to his face. "It is."

"Hyuka," you call him after a second. His eyes move away from the sight, but the look of awe never leaves as he looks at you. "I'm sorry." You can feel your tears build up again. "I know it's not enough, and I don't think there's anything I can do to make up for what I did. But I'm so sorry. I wish I could blame it on the fact that I was stupid, that I was drunk. But I can't, and I won't. I'm selfish, I'm mean, I'm messed up. There must be something wrong with me too because I still want you after everything."

"There's nothing wrong with you," he whispers. Kai tenderly kisses your tears away, licking his lips. "Or maybe there is, we can be messed up together."

You giggle at him, playfully smacking his chest. "That's such a loser thing to say."

Kai laughs with you, pearly whites glistening in the setting sun, "I was hoping you'd think I was a lover."

You shake your head, still keeping the smile on your face. "So now what?" You question. "Do we kiss or something?"

Kai only shrugs, "I'll do whatever you want to do."

"We should go back to my place," you reason quickly. "It's getting cold out here."

-

His lips are on yours the second you closed the door to your apartment. Kissing Kai is nothing like anything you've experienced before. He’s shaky, messy, uncoordinated, and you love every second of it. You wonder why you never kissed him before. 

You lead him towards your room, both of you tripping and slipping off your shoes. Hushed giggles filled the air as you finally opened your bedroom door.

It’s then that Kai decides to have some decency, "You don't have roommates?"

His lips are swollen and flushed from kissing. Your eyes catch how his hair points in all directions from the previous makeout session in the car. 

You roll your eyes and slam your door closed loudly. "What about it? Take off your pants and get on the bed."

Kai is quick to listen to your directions, fumbling with his belt as you lead him to the bed. 

His hands tremble from anxiousness, struggling to unclasp himself. You take pity on him and sit him on the edge of the bed, falling to your knees. 

"You don't need to rush, Hyuka," you soothingly tell him. Your hands run up and down his thighs, trying to get them to relax. "We can take things slow. Plus I've already seen your dick. A little too late to be shy about showing me that, hm?"

Kai gives you an apologetic smile and nods, "Yeah sorry." You hear him take a deep breath and slowly let it out. Once he's calmed down enough he looks down at you and nods again, a sign to keep going. 

Carefully, you remove his belt and toss it on the ground. You maintain eye contact when you unbutton the top of his pants, moving down to lower his zipper. Kai keeps his eyes trained on yours, a habit you had taught him whenever you gave him head. 

He lifts his hips upwards so you can pool his pants around his ankles. You eye the tent in his boxers, licking your bottom lip. 

"This all for me?" You tease, using your hands to play with his waistband. When he doesn't answer, you pull back on the elastic on his underwear and let it go. The snap sound echoes in your room, and Kai jolts from the slight stinging sensation. 

"Yes! Yes it's all for you." His voice is whiny, eager to be pleased. 

Maybe you should go easier on him, you had a heart to heart with him less than an hour ago. Still, a part of you feels like you've been going too easy on him in the bedroom. Here he is, expecting pleasure from you the moment you bring him to your place. 

You've made Kai quite the whore. 

This is his first time fucking, and that knowledge alone makes you back off from your usual antics. With a smile on your face, you shimmer his boxers off. You can see his ears turn red when you coo at the sight of his hard cock. 

"It's so hard. I can't believe it's like this when I haven't even touched you. Thought you'd get tired of me." You speak mindlessly. 

"I always get like this when I think of you," Kai confesses in a small voice. Your chest blooms with butterflies, returning his blush. "And I'd never get tired of you," he quickly adds. "Never."

To show your gratitude for his words, you grasp his cock in one hand while you place your other hand on his thigh. You stroke him gently, moving to engulf his tip in skin before dragging it down. Kai hums gratefully and grips the sheets. 

It doesn't take long to hear the slick from his pre-cum. Your whole body starts following his strokes as if you're riding him.  Saliva starts to pool in your mouth from watching your hand get all the attention. Still, the emptiness in your throat isn't enough to stop. You love seeing his face twist in pleasure, the way his neck looks when his head is thrown back. 

Unconsciously, you begin to bounce on air. You pussy clenches around nothing, dripping with arousal. You're neglecting yourself from what you crave, what you need. It's been a long time since your pussy has been stuffed. Excluding Kai's tongue and your fingers, there hasn't been much action going on. You couldn't picture yourself sleeping with anyone so long as you were seeing Kai.

Now you’ve been given his dick on a platter, his tip an angry red with bulging veins. Experimentally, you bring your hand upwards to rub the head of his cock. Kai writhes in overstimulation, his hips jerking backwards to escape your touch. 

You hum, understanding. "Sensitive huh? You think you can take my pussy next?"

There's a little spark of panic in his eyes, but determination overpowers it. "I can take it." Kai fidgets with the blankets nervously, "I dunno if I'll be any good."

You take your hand off his length and rise to your feet. "You don't need to be good, Hyuka. Just lie there like a good boy and I'll do all the work." Your fingers grasp the hem on your shirt and you lift the material over your head. 

Kai has seen your boobs before. You've let him place his dick between them and use it like a fleshlight. He never gets bored of the sight though, and his dick jumps again in excitement. 

You throw the blouse in the same direction of his belt. Teasingly, you cup yourself and massage your breasts. "Your turn."

Kai hesitates in taking off his shirt, but seeing you playing with your tits encourages him to do so. He doesn't try to think about how you're staring at him as he tucks his arms in the holes and lifts the shirt over his head. 

To praise him, you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. 

You take a few steps closer to Kai so his face is in your chest. He looks up at you as you place a nipple in his mouth, needing some type of stimulation. He obeys, sticking his tongue out to taste your skin. 

His lips suck on your bud, moving his hands to wrap around your bare torso. 

Kai's tongue flicks against your nipple, making you moan. He switches from one boob to the next, unsure of which one to pay attention to. Kai settles for taking his time on each one. 

He notes how you whine when he sucks harshly, how you arch your back further into him when he captures your nipples between his teeth. Kai watches as your skin turns purple from his bruising, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. 

Your legs begin to tremble from the feeling. You keep a grasp on the back of his head to keep him close. The desire between your legs grows stronger. Your patience wears thin as you start undoing your jeans. 

Kai backs away to let you get fully undressed. He kicks his pants off from his ankles and helps you shimmy out of your underwear. 

Both of you are completely nude, exposed. It's a whole new sense of vulnerability. Before, clothes were a way to establish power. You would keep Kai either mostly clothed or naked from down under. It gave you a sense of superiority over him, but that's the last thing, if at all, that you want to feel from him now. 

Instead, you want to feel his body on yours. His hot skin kissing your own. You might always want to take charge in the bedroom, but you don't think you could ever look down on him ever again. 

How did you ever do it in the first place?

You place yourself on his lap, pushing him down by his chest to lay him on the bed. His chest rises and falls rapidly, mouth slightly open to catch his breath. You shush quietly, an attempt to calm him down once again. "It's okay, Hyuka. I'm right here."

Some seconds pass before you place yourself above his hips. You hover over him, knees either side of his waist. Your hand reaches down to grab the base of his cock, angling it towards your entrance. Kai's hands are still fisting the sheets, but you tell him that it's okay to grab you instead.

He listens and takes ahold on your hips, sinking into the bed further. 

To let Kai get used to the feeling, you run the tip on his cock over your pussy lips, letting your arousal gather. The warmth of your sexes makes both of you moan. 

"It's so warm," he notices. You giggle and look up at him, "It's even warmer inside."

Rather than looking nervous, Kai smiles back at you expectantly. 

You take that as a green light to take him in. Slowly, you push the head of his dick inside. The crown spreads you slightly, and you have to bite your bottom lip from moaning too loudly. Kai whimpers at the first feel of your pussy, his grip tightening on you for a second. 

You sink on him a few more inches before moving back up, letting your cunt adjust to his size. There's slight pain on your part, but you're so wet that it's far too easy to slide back down. The ache only mixes with the pleasure each time you take him deeper.

Kai seems to appreciate you taking your time. His hips stay on the bed obediently, taking in the feeling of your walls gushing around him. It's not until you sit on him fully, your ass to his thighs, that he cries out. He swears he sees white from the tight pleasure, the way his cock fits snug in you.

Perfect.

With trembling thighs, you let yourself settle on Kai's girth. He's stretching you out fully, and you swear you can feel him deep in your stomach. The depth makes you twitch and squeeze around him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

You trail your hands upwards so they rest on his shoulders. "This okay?"

Kai opens his mouth only to moan in response. He's babbling nonsense, but he's nodding rapidly. You can make out a few yes's and a string of curses, making you laugh. Experimentally, you rock your hips on him. The movement makes him whimper, his hands falling further down to grip your ass. 

You set the pace, lifting yourself a few inches up before dropping back down. The feel of his cock dragging inside of you sends shivers down your spine. There's nothing you wish more than to bury yourself deep in his cock, spasming around him. You think you could cum from just squeezing him, but Kai is practically drooling for how you're riding him.

It doesn't take long for the pace to pick up. Especially with how his fingers are digging into the flesh of your ass, itching to pick you up himself just to slam you back down. His hips start thrusting upwards to meet you halfway. 

Your breasts bounce from the force, a series of moans leaving your lips from every thrust. Neither of you care about how loud your thrusts are, skin on skin. If anything, that sound mixed with the wet slapping spurns you on more. Kai picks his head up to watch where you both connect and his dick disappears inside you, imprinting the image into his mind .

The sight alone makes Kia's balls tense. You're so warm, wet, and tight for him that he can feel his release getting closer. Thinking about finishing inside of you is beyond what Kai could have ever wished for. Making you his in any way possible, painting you in his skin in the most vulnerable way. 

It's then that Kai realizes you both have missed a crucial step. 

"Condom!" He chokes out. "C-condom. We didn't...we didn't..." Kai stutters from the power of his orgasm. It hits him so suddenly, his eyes sting from tears. It's embarrassing to cum so quickly, yet how could he not? You just feel too good.

If you heard Kai, you paid no attention to it. Instead, you help him ride out his high. You can feel his cum bury itself deep inside you, hoping to get you pregnant. He came a lot though, as expected from a virgin. Some of it slips out and drips down onto your bed. Not that you mind - it's kind of cute. 

Your hips slow when Kai's moans settle down. He seems to like you rocking on him gently, milking him for every drop. Kai blinks up at you as a few tears fall, making you clench around him.

"I didn't mean to," he sobs. His hands trails up back to your waist as he cries. "I'm s-sorry. I really didn't-"

You shut him up by leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips. His cries muffle, but he soon starts kissing you back. Kai presses you closer to him at your taste, finding solace in your touch. You pull away gently, watching how he chases after your lips blindly.

"There's nothing to be sorry about Hyuka," you console. Your hands trail up and down his chest lovingly. "I wanted you to, I liked it."

"Y-You did?" he sniffs.

Nodding, you tell him, "I did. So you don't have to feel bad. We can take care of it in the morning." Kai nods at you, though his eyes still look unsure. 

You decide that you won't have the opportunity to cum tonight, lifting yourself off him. 

Kai's touch surprises you when he keeps you still on his softening cock. "But...you didn't..." He looks up at you shyly, pressing his cock deeper to get his point across. 

You mewl at the feeling, tensing for a moment. "It's okay. We don't have to, I know you're tired."

Despite his sleepy eyes, Kai shakes his head. "I'm not. Use me. I can still be good for you."

Kai gently thrusts his hips upwards, not as deep but still enough to make a whole new warmth of gush leave your pussy. There's no way in hell you can deny yourself from pleasure any longer. Even if his dick isn't as hard, you can still use him, like he offered.

Kai hisses from how feverishly you begin to bounce on his cock. He's still so sensitive, but your need to cum outweighs the care for his own pain. He needs to see how you cum around his dick. Even if you rub him raw, fuck him for hours on end, the feeling of your cunt dripping with your cum around him is all he can think about.

Tears once again prick his eyes, and your hips rock faster upon seeing them. Kai's length is so hot and slippery in you, you can feel your orgasm approaching you quickly. The warmth in your belly builds, chills covering your body.

Still being the obedient boy he is, Kai doesn't stop fucking up into you. Not even when the tears fall down his cheeks or the moans are tumbling uncontrollably from his lips again. You swear you see his eyes go crossed from the overstimulation, spurring you on further. 

No matter how nice you'll be with Kai, no matter how much love you'll give him, seeing him cry will always be your favorite sight.

The building of heat in your stomach finally bursts, flooding your orgasm on Kai's cock. You twitch and moan when you cum, clenching harshly on Kia's abused dick. Kai rocks his hips against you to ride out your high, mimicking how you did for him.

You steady yourself on his shoulder before collapsing on him chest to chest. Both of you breathe raggedly, sweaty bodies mingling with each other. You both pay no mind, opting to stay still instead. 

Nobody makes a move to pull Kai out of you. Not that you wanted to, it felt rather nice to have him inside. 

Silence falls over you two as you steady your breaths. It's as though the world stopped moving. All you can feel is Kai's embrace as he wraps his arms around you. You snuggle closer to him, planting a brief kiss on his chest.

"How are you feeling?" You ask, lifting your head up to see him.

Kaipeers up at you, looking thoughtful. "I feel...thirsty."

You adjust yourself so that you're supporting yourself on the palm of your hands, preparing to get up. "I can get some water-"

"No. You stay here, I can get it." Kai easily lifts you off his dick, both of you whining at the loss of contact. He sets you beside him and sits up, grabbing his clothes that he hastily puts on. 

He gives you one last look before slipping out of your room. You take this brief time to collect your thoughts, your feelings. 

Or so you try until your phone goes off. You sit up to search for the device on the floor, spotting it near your pants. You crawl off the bed, legs aching from being in one position for so long. Once the phone is in your hand, you climb back in bed and open your notification. 

Yeonjun: i expect my compensation within the next few weeks

You groan, hating yourself for agreeing to his terms. There's no time to think about responding when Kai walks in with two glasses of water and a towel he must've found. 

You shut your phone off and welcome your new lover back in bed. You'll have to worry about your promise to Yeonjun another time.

a/n: and thats a wrap! thank you so much for reading this little series and I hope you enjoyed it! I did *slightly* hint at an epilogue, but we'll see if I actually do it. huge thanks to @then-make-me for editing and revising!! this was defo a chore im sure! thank you so much!

[tubareads]

This is like my 4th (5th?) reread it this story and I can’t get enough of it. Like, it’s penetrated my daily life and I’ll just be sitting eating and I’ll think about it, it’s that good. I’m just a sucker for the idea of guy being kinda a douche but a total simp for her, and you really ate that trope up. I really enjoy your writing and you made me WANT Changbin despite not really knowing who he is 😭

Agora Hills

Changbin x fem!reader

synopsis: You thought breaking up with Changbin was for the best, but he's here to remind you that's completely and utterly wrong.

warnings: MDNI 18+, suggestive themes, exes-to-lovers, rich!changbin, he's an asshole but means well, some angst mostly fluff, thats it lol

1.5k words

It's not as though you hated Changbin, quite the opposite actually.

He's caring, sweet, and would rip the shirt off his back if you asked. He would treat you well, spoil you like a baby. He's really the whole package...all for one thing.

As sweet as he is to you, he's too snobby with other people. You knew he had money, lots of it. Anyone with that amount to their name can let it get to their head, but Changbin loved showing off how much he had. You couldn't do it anymore.

The final straw was when you were out on a double date with your friends. The restaurant wasn't up to Changbin's taste, and he made it very clear he did not like it to everyone. You tried to awkwardly laugh it off, but it was hard not to when he said, "This is why I don't like hanging out with the middle class, no offense. You guys just have no taste."

You saw red. Here was your boyfriend belittling the class your family has had to work their way into. With clenched teeth you apologized to your friends, broke up with Changbin, and had your friends drive you home.

It's been two weeks, and he's been calling you nonstop. Text after text, call after call, voicemail after voicemail. When you weren't picking up, he started sending gifts to your door. Jewelry, bouquets of flowers, clothes you knew cost more than your rent. Changbin had a habit of showing his love through materialistic ways, but it was getting annoying having to return them back to his address.

"You should ask for a car," your roommate chirps. 

You only rolled your eyes and groaned in return. You slumped further into the couch before burying your face in your hands. 

"You're supposed to be helping me," you say frustratingly. 

"I am," she protests. "Your shit car is breaking down, again, and you and I both know damn well your little sugar daddy would love to buy you a better one."

Angrily, you place your hands on the sides of the couch and sit up. "He's not my sugar daddy! Don't call him that."

Your roommate tsks and shakes her head, "Whatever. Have you called him at least?" 

You shake your head back, "I haven't spoken to him since that night."

"Well, maybe you should," she reasons. "Some guys need to hear it more than once, especially if you just up and left him like that. Who knows, maybe you can work things out too."

"I have," you stress. "He's just so...ignorant sometimes. And plus, I can't take him back after what he said to you."

Rather than seeming upset, your roommate shrugs. "I've heard worse. Plus I don't think he meant it in a bad way, like you said, he's just a little ignorant."

Her aloofness makes you both on edge and at ease. It's good to hear that she wasn't as offended as you thought she'd be, but her being so nonchalant about your situation is irritating. 

In times like these, you wish someone could just tell you what to do. 

"I say you call him," she answers your prayers. "If he's an ass, it only proves that you were right to dump him. If he's not, then you either owe him a better breakup or another chance."

Finding resolution, you stand to your feet and grab your phone from the coffee table. "You say it like it's so easy."

"That's because it is."

-

Changbin picks up on the first ring. Not that it should surprise you, but the rehearsed words die in your throat when he answers with an overly excited hello?

When you don't answer he prompts you again, "Baby...are you there?"

You can feel the way your heart clenches at the pet name. It's only been a mere two weeks since you've heard his voice and you're already wanting to cry. 

"Don't call me that," your voice is small. 

"Why not?" He asks. You can hear how shaky his voice is, but you convince yourself it's the static. If he really cared about you, he wouldn't have said that in the first place. "Are you not my baby anymore?"

You have to chew on your bottom lip and look up to the ceiling of your room to keep yourself from crying. A few seconds pass before you speak, "I dunno...Changbin you really...you really messed up."

"I know, baby, and I'm so sorry. I'm stupid. I hurt you and embarrassed you in front of your friends. I would do it over again if I could, baby believe me. We can fix this, I can be better. I love you, you know that."

He's right, you do know that. There wasn't a moment in your relationship where you doubted his love for you. Changbin has been a little snobby before, but that doesn't compare to his overwhelming adoration for you.

"I love you too Binnie," you sniff. "I wanna fix this too."

You swear you can hear him smile behind the phone. "That's all I need to hear baby. You mean so much to me that I can't even explain it, you know that?"

Despite the tears on your waterline you laugh, "Yeah I do Binnie. You mean a lot to me too."

Changbin laughs with you. "I miss you baby...it's so lonely in my mansion."

Whatever tenderness you had filling your heart dissipates and is replaced with agitation. "Jesus this is exactly what I mean! It's those little stupid fucking remarks that-"

"No! Baby baby I didn't mean it like that! It's a Doja Cat song-"

"-and here I was really wanting to make things work and you just-"

The two of you begin to talk over one another, the previous confessions nearly forgotten. It takes Changbin profusely apologizing and begging for you to stop arguing. 

"Over the phone isn't gonna cut it. I'll send a limo and you can come over. Please baby, we can fix this."

You sigh heavily and collapse on your bed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Okay."

-

No matter how many times you enter Changbin's house, if you can call it that, it always leaves you breathless. Polished floors, high ceilings, with chandeliers dangling up above you. It's clean, not a speck of dust in sight, most likely thanks to the many invisible housemaids. 

He had ushered you to his room, sitting you on his couch as he remained standing. 

It felt good to see him, even if you were pissed. He was as muscular as ever, a black tank top showing his pecs and arms deliciously. He must've worked out before you came, he tended to use the gym as a stress reliever. 

"There's really no excuse I have other than I'm stupid." Changbin starts. 

You let a small breath of air out that mimics laughter, "You don't have to tell me that.

Changbin smiles at you, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah." He pauses. "At the dinner, I really don't know why I even said that. I didn't mean to hurt you, or your friends. It's was inappropriate and fucked up of me. We can go and I can apologize to them. Anything you want me to do, just name it."

Timidly, he gets on his knees between your legs and takes your hands into his own. "I love you. I love everything about you even if I complain like an idiot. I'm just not used to...some things, but I don't want that to be the end of us. I can learn, and I can change. Just don't leave me. Please."

God, if there's one thing Changbin is good at, it's begging. His hot breath fans over your bare legs, sending chills up your body. You can feel the heat of his body rolling off onto yours. He looks beautiful. His dark, messy curls that sit at the top of his head, the broadness of his shoulders, the way his lips pout. 

As big as he is, he's still a baby.

Your baby.

Gently, you untangle your hands from his, and his face drops for a moment. You quickly place them on his face, pulling him forward until his lips meet your own. 

Changbin squeaks at the feel of your kiss, but his initial shock turns into passion. He grips the side of your face with one hand while the other steadies himself on your knee. It's gentle, the way he pulls back for a moment before diving back in.

There’s nothing but love in his featherlight lips enveloping yours. All you can feel is him, his passion, his devotion to you. All the things he wants to say- no, he needs to say is conveyed through the kiss.

His hands snakes to the back of your head, pushing you deeper into his mouth. It doesn't take long before his lips don't feel like enough, and you're both opening your mouths to taste each other. 

It makes your heart swoon to know that he tastes the same. Familiar. Safe. 

Changbin grows bold, the hand on your knee moving up to grip the plushness of your thighs. 

"So, you forgive me?" He asks between kisses.

You pull back and pretend to think, "I don't know. Why should I?"

This makes Changbin smile, fully. "I can show you. Would that be better?"

The hand on your thigh inches to the hem of your shorts. The way his warm fingers caress your skin makes you involuntarily open your legs a little wider. 

"I guess that'll do for now."

a/n: this is a little different from what I usually post, but I like it. hope you do too! thank you @then-make-me for editing/proofreading!

[tubareads]

Oh, this has me weak in the knees. I just LOVE when men are losers, like I will never not love that trope. Him being the only one to show up for her was so sad but that kinda angst always makes the payoff at the end ever better. And Huening Kai! Fuckboy Kai is something we realllly don’t see often so I expected a redemption arc, but it makes sense that he’s just a dumb horny boy 😔 Loved seeing Gyu and oc’s relationship develop and seeing her get her head out of her ass to admit that she wanted him baaaaad. Love love love this story and the smut made me astral project

Like Cat and Mouse!

☆ Playlist! ☆

"You seemed to have garnered quite the reputation for you on campus— one that had the word “trouble” following you like a shadow. But when you give Beomgyu an offer he couldn’t possibly turn down in exchange for helping you get your grades back up, how could he refuse? You can’t possibly be that hard to handle, right?"

Beomgyu x fem!reader, ft. Hueningkai

Genre: college au, slowburn (kinda..?), tutor!gyu x rich girl!mc, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 37.1K

Warnings: mc is a bitch, and maybe a bimbo? gyu wears glasses, and he’s like super super shy, mc gets sick for a scene, she rambles but its part of her character ok!, toxic relationships, pining/unrequited love, Yunjin is so fake here im sorry Yunjin, mentions of alcohol/drinking, the puppy gyu agenda is fucking strong here !!!

Smut warnings: multiple smut scenes first of all, fwb!huening, dom!hyuka, switch!mc, sub!gyu, (the worst case of sub gyu yet), virgin!gyu, breast play, dry humping, biting, pet names (f rec: princess, m rec: puppy, good boy, baby, slut, etc.)  mentions of bondage (f. rec.), spanking (f. rec.), degrading, praise, praise kink, finger sucking, oral (f. & m rec.), handjobs, mouth fucking, cum eating (?), explicit, verbal consent is not stated in two scenes but both parties are willing! Semi-public sex, overstimulation, slight thigh riding, marking, hair pulling (m. rec. lol), begging, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, cockwarming

notes: i don't even know what to say... there's really no reason for this to be so long, how did we get here. i hide my face in shame.

It all starts as an accident— a very inconvenient accident.

Really, it wasn’t your fault; how were you supposed to keep up with these endless assignments that only seemed to get worse as time went on? You had better things to do with your life— studying is way too much of a headache for you these days. 

Instead, your days have been filled along the lines of parties and trips your friends hold, gaining connections with people that always help things go next level; Empty vacation homes, yachts, even a private jet once— you were lucky enough to land a friendship with these type of people, the thought of taking things slow and worrying more about your education not crossing your mind anymore once you got a taste of the fast life. 

Which is exactly how you got where you are now. 

“There goes your man,” Yunjin’s elbow is sharp against your side as she whispers teasingly, the jab only making your frown deepen as you weakly attempt to shake her off. 

“Shut up.” That’s all you can manage as you go to lay your head down on the dining hall table, your appetite long gone as your head swims and your stomach twists with nausea; her single jab is enough to remind your body of its terrible shape, your eyes shutting tightly as you fight through the urge to hurl then and there. 

You’re not even sure of what she might mean— you don’t remember telling her about any recent hookups— hell, you don’t even remember gawking at anyone in your vicinity; so for her to be teasing you about this “man” of yours was strange, a pout forming on your lips as you try to focus on the cool feeling of the wood beneath your skin.

“I gotta go,” Yunjin says abruptly, your eyes opening to send her a confused look. All she can do is give you an eager smile, patting your head as she grabs her now empty coffee cup from the table. “Your man is coming this way.”

Before you can ask her what man she could possibly be talking about, she’s off, not bothering to look back as she sends you a little wave over her shoulder, perfectly manicured nails glittering under the sunlight that shines through the windows. 

The seat in front of yours is quickly filled. 

“You weren’t at our study session yesterday.”

Jesus. 

There’s not much you can say to that, clearly guilty as you choose to press your forehead against the cool table in response. Maybe, if you close your eyes, he’ll disappear— if only it were that easy. But instead, you’re stuck with Choi Beomgyu and the warm scent of coffee that follows him— god knows how many cups he drank as a substitution for sleep. Your lashes flutter against the table as you attempt to drown out his whines, surprised that he hasn't taken your unresponsiveness as a hint to go away.

“Have you ever gone to Paris?” You ask, the sentence flying from your mouth and interrupting his rambles. It’s enough to shut him up, sitting up as you plant your hands firmly on the table in a weak attempt to not lay your head back down.

“No, I haven’t.”

His response is typical— you didn’t care whether or not he would say yes, leaning into the table as you stare into his eyes; it’s clear he’s flustered by the action, leaning back in reciprocation as his pupils land everywhere but on you. 

“If you had the chance to go to Paris right now, would you?” It takes a moment before Beomgyu nods his head hesitantly, mouth opening as he prepares a new line of questioning for you. But you’re quick to cut him off again, clapping your hands in satisfaction as you stand up— his eyes follow your every movement, face resembling a lost puppy as he watches the way you get ready to leave.

“Exactly; Paris really is beautiful by the way, definitely recommend going. So you can’t blame me for ditching our study session yesterday, can you?” Tilting your head, you watch the puzzles connect in his mind. “We can always make it up or whatever, not that big of a deal.”

Turning around, you don’t bother saying goodbye to Beomgyu; your only thoughts center on your beautiful, comfy bed and how you’ll spend the rest of your day in it. You can hear him calling out to you, the sound of a chair scraping against tile catching your attention as you force yourself to walk faster. 

“We have class in fifteen minutes— where are you going?!”

He’s gaining up on you. You don’t care if you have to sprint out of the building, but the last thing you’ll do is get stuck in another of Beomgyu’s self-righteous rambles as you curse wildly under your breath. 

“Home— I’m sick!” 

Carelessly, the exit door is slammed on Beomgyu’s face— by accident, of course. Glancing back, you’re able to catch a glimpse of his pathetic puppy face, clearly discouraged from trying to continue chasing after you. 

Normally, one would be compelled to feel guilty— but the day is simply too nice, the weather so perfect as a spring wind brushes past your skin; the sun that slightly worsens your headache truly doesn’t seem that bad anymore. 

A perfect day to drive around and shop, in your humble opinion. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 

This new purse would be divine in your collection. 

The luxury bag in your hands is sleek and smooth as your fingertips glaze over the details, entranced by its chic beauty as you let your thoughts wander— formal events, birthday dinners, oh, the places you could take it…

The price tag is no joke— it has you counting numbers in your head, pondering just how much of your monthly allowance you have left; if you buy it now, you’ll have to say goodbye to the girls’ trip at Yunjin’s beach house in Cancun…

Treat yourself, a tiny voice whispers in your mind, you can always beg your parents for more money. 

The devil on your shoulder is compelling— it warps your vision, a pout forming on your face as it practically forces your eyes to see the item in a heavenly light; the last item in that specific collection, and it’s right at your disposal, only a card swipe away…

“Pretty bag,” your little devil hums, “It would look nice with that little black dress you’re always looking for an excuse to wear.” 

His hand is delicate and teasing on your shoulder, his hold on you tight as he pulls you into him protectively. You’re not as surprised as you should be as you look up at Hueningkai, pouting face innocently looking up at him as you shake your head in distress. 

“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to go with Yunjin to Cancun during spring break,” you whine, petulant as always as you refuse his reasoning— yet also refuse to let go of the bag and walk away. 

Anyone who knows you knows how you get about accessories— how obsessive you become with collecting them, your closet always filled to the brim as your need to buy becomes a borderline addiction. 

Maybe that’s why Hueningkai finds your dilemma so amusing, deft fingers snatching the purse from your hands and walking away wordlessly, leaving you to trot behind him as you continue to rant and stall, lingering by his side as a new item catches your eye; you inspect it curiously while the words uncontrollably fly out of your mouth. 

“I mean it’s not like I don’t have enough money, cause I could always ask my parents for more— and they’d gladly give it to me— but I always feel so horrible to ask for more, especially now that I’m supposed to be getting more independent, even though they always talk about spoiling me because I’m their only daughter, but still, I really want it but if I buy it I’ll have to ask them for more money, and it’s not even a big deal but it feels—“

“Oh my god, okay!” It seems you were too distracted by the tweed Chanel bag in your hands to anticipate the shopping bag that Hueningkai thrusts into your hands, exasperated at your ramblings as he swiftly manages to shut you up. 

You’re left speechless, sorting through the filling paper dumbly as you’re greeted with the same bag that Hueningkai snatched from you— your sparkly eyes look up at him in awe, unsure of what to say as he simply smiles at your reaction. 

“Huening…” you pout, clutching the bag to your chest with one hand as you slap his chest with the other— his very firm, strong chest… “you shouldn’t have.”

He’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you into him and guiding you out of the store as he leans into you; you can smell his cologne so perfectly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers softly into it.

“It’s okay,” he smiles, endeared by the way your eyes shine with anticipation to his words, “I know of a few ways you can make it up to me.” 

There’s no need to call your driver— Hueningkai knows the way to your apartment like the back of his hand, one relaxed at the steering wheel while the other plays with the hem of those skirts you always like to wear.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

“You’re such a tease,” Hueningkai’s lips are plump and bitten at as you smile against them, his hands never straying from your ass as he grasps at it, enjoying the way you grind against him expertly.

“Just wanna make you feel good,” you pant, the warm feeling of his hands on your tight-clad thighs making you whine, your pussy slotted perfectly against him as you feel the way he grows harder underneath you.

“You’re always so good to me…” you trail off the moment his lips begin to wander down your neck, attempting to pull off your thin sweater as his hands immediately find themselves on your breasts. He can only let out a breathy laugh at your words, his teeth sinking in the plump flesh softly before his fingers are working your bra off. 

“Always buying you your favorite things?” He rasps, groaning softly at the sight of your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as he looks up at you teasingly, “my princess will do anything for a pretty purse, hmm?” 

Frantically, you nod, his hips bucking into you as you feel the way his cock presses against you effortlessly; he’s as eager as you are, warm tongue on your skin making your thoughts run wild as you imagine what it would feel like to have him pressed against your cunt, helpless to your needs as your fingers card through his hair.

“Come on pretty girl, show me how grateful you are,” your thoughts are immediately dispelled as Hueningkai pushes you off, a gentle hand pushing away your hair before he’s guiding you down to your knees; his favorite sight, your doe eyes fluttering at him innocently as your hands make quick work of his belt. He can’t help but groan at the sight before him, lip caught in his teeth as he silently wishes for you to hurry. 

Hueningkai takes the belt from your hands, placing it to the side as he smiles down at you coyly— you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation, your mind going back to the many memories of your face pressed into the mattress as your bound hands desperately begged to touch him. Your fingers are delicate as they pull down his zipper— he’s become impatient, lips parting as he gets ready to make a witty comment. 

His thoughts are interrupted by a persistent ringing of your doorbell. 

He’s devastated as he flops back into your mattress— a loud groan escapes him, brows furrowing as he grows irritated at the ringing that echoes throughout your apartment. 

“Jesus, what the fuck is their problem?” He complains, running a hand through his hair before he sits back up; he’s smiling fondly at you as he caresses your cheek, sighing softly as he nods his head towards the door, “go see who it is, won’t you princess? Make it quick.” 

The look that you two share is nothing but mischievous, his lips connecting with yours in a chaste kiss as he helps you up; he’s tugging your sweater roughly over your chest, straightening your skirt before he’s sending you off— not without one last feel of you, the stinging sensation that lingers on your ass making you yelp as you send him a playful glare— he can only send you a sly look in return. 

This better be important, you can’t help but think, sighing heavily as another three persistent rings of your doorbell echo throughout— you groan, rolling your eyes as you swing the door open wildly.

You can’t say you’re surprised as Beomgyu stares back at you in shock, his wide eyes blinking rapidly as he takes you in.

“What.” Your tone is unwelcoming as you lean against your doorframe, arms crossing to cover your chest as you raise a brow at him in anticipation— he stutters uselessly, pushing up his glasses as his eyes fly about your apartment wildly— refusing to look at you for more than a second. 

“You didn’t answer my messages,” or calls, he whispers weakly, tugging at the hem of his sweater as he stares down at his dirtied shoes, his other arm hidden behind his back. He clears his throat, gulping as he looks into your eyes, pushing past the annoyed look that greets him as he continues, “You didn’t look well this morning, so I wanted to check up on you.”

You’re not sure what to say as Beomgyu whips out what was hidden behind his back—you’re leaning back as you stare at the cute, floral lunch bag that Beomgyu thrusts into your face, hesitantly taking it as you look back at Beomgyu in confusion; it feels warm in your arms.

“It’s soup.” He says, his ears reddening as he takes in the bewildered way you’re staring at him, “It’s my mom's recipe, it’s— it’s really good.”

“Yeah? We’ll be the judge of that,” Hueningkai has snuck up behind you as he wraps an arm around your waist, effectively pushing you back against him— you can feel how hard he is against the swell of your ass, eyes widening as you get what he’s hinting at, impatient fingers digging into your skin softly. 

Beomgyu seems just as surprised as you are at Hueningkai’s appearance, if not more. It becomes your turn to become embarrassed as you look over your shoulder to meet Hueningkai’s smug smile, his eyes glistening with curiosity as he looks back at Beomgyu, tilting his head as he frowns.

“Who are you anyway?” 

Beomgyu seems quite offended by his statement, looking at you in shock. You’re scrambling to cut Hueningkai off, letting out a soft laugh as you place a firm hand on his chest— the last thing you need is for Hueningkai to drive away one of the few people that would be willing to tutor you. 

“He’s just helping me out in some classes, that’s all,” you say, placing the lunch bag in his hands before you’re shooing him away, “Put this on the kitchen counter— I’ll see you in a bit.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t miss the look the two of you share— if anything, it makes his stomach twist in embarrassment, wanting to do nothing more than turn around and pretend as though he hadn’t interrupted you while you were— whatever it was. Hueningkai is cheery as he walks back into your apartment, not bothering to spare Beomgyu another glance as he disappears from your sight; your clearing throat is what gets Beomgyu’s mind back on track. 

“Right. Well,” you say, smiling awkwardly as you reach out for the door, “I’m feeling better. Thanks though!” 

Beomgyu is unable to get out another word as you’re closing the door on him, sneaking in a last comment as you cheerily yell “tell your mom I said thank you!” Uncaring of his reaction as the door shuts in his face; he suddenly thinks back to this morning, shuddering at the memory of him having to walk back to the other exit of the dining hall, towards the building his classes were in— your shared class, specifically— forced to ignore the strange looks everyone gave him as he stared straight at the ground. 

“Isn’t he younger than us? Why was he talking to me like that,” he quietly pouts, his protests left unheard as he’s forced to walk back home, eyes glued to the sidewalk in dismay— the feeling is dreadfully familiar.

“Well that’s sad,” Hueningkai remarks, peeking through your blinds as he watches Beomgyu’s figure grow smaller, “Are you actually gonna eat that?”

His eyes flick back to the lunch bag that sits innocently at your counter—you simply shrug, feeling oddly protective of the item as you tuck it behind you, leaning against the counter as you sigh softly.

“His mom made it, I’d feel bad if I didn’t,” you say, biting at your lips as you watch the way Hueningkai laughs in disbelief. You feel a bit bad as you think back to the way you turned him away, his expression pitiful and sad as you slammed the door on his face for the second time today. Yet you don’t get much time to think about it as Hueningkai begins to approach you, hands effortlessly finding themselves on your waist as your head tilts to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss. 

“Can’t believe he interrupted us for so long,” you feel him smile against your lips as he presses you back against the counter, ready to hike your skirt up as his other hand is eagerly wrapping your leg around his waist, “will you make it up to me?”

Beomgyu disappears from your mind like smoke— the smile against your lips is contagious, your hand gently pressing against his chest as you roll your hips teasingly into his, a broken moan falling from both your lips. 

“Of course.“

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

The rest of the day is quite underwhelming. 

You’ve been left with a good fuck and a nice purse, but as you lay in your bed, you can’t help but notice the way your headache never really left— it’s been nothing but a dull ache until now, the pain persistent and growing as you sigh in exasperation; none of your usual remedies have worked for you so far. 

Your body feels hot and weak, yet you’re left shivering as the blankets keep endlessly stacking on top of you. Not even your weighted blanket can lull you to sleep, your figure restless as you toss and turn in your bed, your phone buried in your puzzle of fabric. You’re in nothing but pain— you hate feeling like this, and the sudden grumbling of your stomach truly isn’t helping either. 

Left with no other options, you trudge to the kitchen, opening your fridge as you mentally brace yourself— it’s been a while since you’ve shopped for groceries; there’s not much in there that you could eat quickly, and you can’t find any energy within you to cook. 

The cool fridge door is welcoming against your skin— yet it’s also bothersome as you begin to shiver at the cold, closing the fridge quickly as you frown to yourself; whatever your body has come down with, it sure is annoying. Taking a moment to think, you suddenly find your eyes gravitating to a certain item; ergo, the floral lunch bag that remains untouched on your counter. 

It hasn’t been that long— an hour or two, at most. Whatever Beomgyu gave you couldn’t have spoiled by now, right? 

It’s soup, you recall him saying, biting your lip as you take the lunch bag to your small table, my mom's recipe. 

Unpacking the contents, you hum in surprise— yeah, this looks like a mothers cooking. The Tupperware he’s provided you with is filled to the brim with a nice broth that is still warm to the touch, a side of rice and vegetables also packed inside for you; you’re unable to stop a small awe from escaping you as you take out a small container of tea that has been stored inside for you as well, surprised at how much Beomgyu’s mother packed for you. 

Does she think we’re friends? Is this her way of making me stick with him? You wonder, biting at your lip as you hold back a laugh at the thought— a poor momma’s boy, struggling to make friends as his mother attempts to subtly help him. 

It’s no secret that Beomgyu was a bit of a loner— that’s why you reached out to him in the first place. You knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse you, because he couldn’t even give you the excuse that he had no time; that, and the hefty sum you gave him in exchange for tutoring someone as difficult as you. 

To a degree, you were self-aware— but it only came after the fifth person rejected your offer, saying that you probably wouldn’t even commit once you started. No matter how pissed you were when you were first told that, you were unable to disagree; unfortunately, it also sparked a deep spiraling of self-reflection as your new self-awareness brought you to Beomgyu; by then you were so desperate and ashamed that Beomgyu probably only accepted because he felt bad. 

Tutoring with Beomgyu had its benefits; he was nice, and quite the pushover as well. He never protested too much when you canceled on him, and the most you ever got from being annoying was a long scolding or an exasperated sigh from him— plus, now it seems that free food has been thrown into the mix.

Settling down at the table, you found yourself oddly restless as you went to fetch a small blanket from your bed— it was only then that you were able to find your phone, gasping as it landed roughly on the floor. Going back to the kitchen, you were now able to make yourself comfortable, sitting at your table as you took off the lids of everything that was packed for you— even the tea was still nice and warm in its thermos, everything packed with such care and attention to detail that you couldn’t help but take a picture of it. 

It was delicious as well; the soup was comforting and not too overwhelming on your senses as you mixed in bites of the white rice, fluffy and cooked to perfection as you melted in your seat with every spoonful. The vegetables were steamed and well seasoned; you practically squealed from happiness as you ate, not used to having such a big meal cooked by someone else these days. 

It filled you up quickly— the ginger tea was soothing against your throat, the taste of honey and lime mixed in leaving you warm and fuzzy as you tiredly trudged to bed; you’d have to beg Beomgyu to invite you to his mother’s house later. 

Maybe it did work, you briefly think to yourself, your mind quickly emptying as you make yourself comfortable in your bed, that only made me want to talk to Beomgyu more— maybe it wouldn’t be too bad being his friend. 

A soft laugh escapes you at the thought— your eyelids feel heavy as you struggle to stay awake, eager to sleep through this brief sickness that threatens to overtake you. After this, you’re sure it’ll be an easy recovery.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You think you’re dying. 

You’re hot and sweaty as you kick away your blankets for the umpteenth time, irritated as your body quickly begins to shiver instead. You’re only able to sleep for a few hours at a time, on the verge of tears as the clock on your bedside table reads nine pm— you’re unsure of what to do, already taking medication a few hours ago that seemed to do nothing. Your body is burning up as you toss and turn a bit more, dreading the new train of thought that enters your mind.

Maybe you should call someone.

Maybe they’ll know what to do, you think, holding back nausea that threatens to knock you out as you slowly sit up; scrolling through your contacts, you hesitantly press call to the first person you could think of. 

It rings once— then again, then a few times more before it goes straight to voicemail. 

“Hey, you’ve reached Yunjin’s voicemail. Please leave a messa—“ you sigh as you hang up, attempting to call a few times more before you give up entirely. 

She’s probably at a party. Or with some boy. 

Scrolling through your contacts, you choose your next person carefully— you’re sure they’re not busy right now, they’ve never been one to go to parties as often— 

Ning Ning’s phone goes straight to voicemail as well. 

Groaning, you lay back as you feel your head pounding, your mind racing as you attempt to go through a mental checklist of who you could call— but all you can conclude is that they’re busy, wouldn’t want to help, or you’re simply not that close to them.

“What the hell,” you mumble, pressing your face against your pillow as you sniffle softly— your headache has become unbearable, and you’ve always been a big crybaby whenever you got sick. 

“Do I not have any friends?” You ponder, your stomach sinking at the thought— there’s no way! If anything, your phone was always on silent from the number of notifications you got in a day; you always knew at least ten people when you walked in a room, the elite definition of a social butterfly— the last thing you would consider yourself is friendless. 

Maybe it’s just an unlucky time, you think, playing Russian roulette with your contacts as your finger presses on a random one; Hueningkai &lt;;3 glares back at you in bright letters, your eyes narrowing as you consider calling— he’s always been one to spoil you, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched for him to help you this once, right?

You’re nervous as the phone rings out into your room, your fingers tapping on your bed impatiently as you wait for him to pick up— just when you think he won’t, his voice greets your ears like a miracle. 

“Hey baby, what’s up?” His voice is a bit rough as he speaks, his speech slow and relaxed as your eyes narrow at the sound; he’s probably high again. 

“Hueningkai,” you cry out softly, unable to help the way you become emotional in your state— your voice is muffled, your face buried in your pillow as the pain becomes far too overwhelming. 

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice has become more alert at the sound of your sniffling, the sounds of rustling from his side making you wince, your hand going to lower the volume of your phone. 

“Dunno. I’m sick,” you say, flipping over onto your back as you stare up at the ceiling— you feel tired, yet you’re unable to get comfortable enough to sleep. You hear more rustling on the other side of the phone— Hueningkai sighs, mumbling something to himself before he clears his throat.

“Why don’t you go to the doctor, hmm?” You frown at his words, shaking your head at the thought— you weren’t really expecting this outcome. 

“I— I can’t really get up, I feel dizzy…” you confess sheepishly, the realization that you truly don’t have enough energy to even stand for too long weighing down on you, “I was wondering if you could come over?” 

“Come over?” Hueningkai echoes, humming softly at the thought— it’s silent, the tension leaving you biting at your lips as you wait for him to respond.

“Listen, uhm,” you sigh softly at his words, closing your eyes as you attempt to ignore the way your stomach dips with disappointment, “I’m kinda busy right now. But if you want, you can call me tomorrow and I can take you to the doctor, ‘kay?” 

Attempting to swallow down your disappointment, you nod, a moment of silence passing before you realize that he can’t even see you. 

“Yeah. Okay.” There’s a lump in your throat as you speak, and you can’t help but feel the way your body heats up as the line falls silent; from embarrassment, this time. It’s awkward, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Hueningkai mumbles a soft “okay then. Goodnight,” the sound of him hanging up the last thing you hear before you’re shrouded in complete silence, the darkness of your room threatening to swallow you whole. 

The sound of your stomach growling angrily is the only thing that breaks the silence. 

A frustrated groan tears through you— you’re oddly emotional as you force yourself to sit up, pausing as you attempt to maintain balance; your head is spinning, and you’re beginning to realize how long it’s been since you last ate. The floor is cold under your feet as you trudge to the kitchen; you can’t bring yourself to turn on the lights, your slippers lost somewhere in your room as you feel a shiver wrack through your body. 

What will you do? Your fridge is practically empty and takeout doesn’t sound too appealing to you; you can feel tears well up in your eyes once more, a pout forming on your face as you slump down on a chair in defeat. Sighing, you think back to earlier— the homemade food Beomgyu brought to you, so soothing and filling it almost reminded you of the meals your cook back at home would make for you— maybe you could call your driver to take you home for a bit. 

It’s hours away and he’s probably off right now, you frown, checking the time on your phone just in case— 9:45— yeah, he’s definitely home by now. Of course, nothing is stopping you from calling him and telling him it’s an emergency, but then you’d feel far too guilty about ripping him away from his family just for you. 

He spends enough time at our home as it is, you think, placing your phone on the table as you go to massage your temples weakly. You need to eat something— maybe you’ll get some energy from it. But, picky as always, you can’t seem to find anything that sounds appealing to you; even the restaurant you frequently eat at doesn't seem to be doing anything for you, your mind inevitably going back to the one thing you were avoiding. 

Hesitantly, you pick up your phone— you can’t believe you’re actually going to try this, you think, biting at your lip before you finally press call; then again, this isn’t entirely out of character for you.

A lonely college student that doesn’t have many friends— if anything, he’s probably up studying right now, you think, frowning as you press your phone firmly to your ear, and if he was willing to check up on me, he should be willing to do this small thing for me too. 

“Hello?” The relief that floods through you is surprising; you’re becoming lax against your seat as the sound of Beomgyu’s uncertain voice meets your ears— his voice is gruff and soft as he speaks, unsure of whether or not you called him on purpose. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” you whine, already feeling yourself becoming unnecessarily emotional as you allow yourself to rant to him, “I’m sick. Can you do me a small favor?” 

On his end, Beomgyu is oddly surprised— why would you go to him of all people? He’s a bit weary as he listens to you carefully, thinking back to the way you were able to shut him out effortlessly; if anything, he must’ve been your last resort.

“What is it?” 

You’re unable to hold back the sigh of relief that escapes you— a smile graces your lips, and for the first time during this miserable experience, you don’t feel helpless. 

“Okay, hear me out please,” you start, sitting up as you clear your throat; unbeknownst to Beomgyu, you’re about to begin one of your infamous ramblings. 

“I know you might be busy studying or whatever, but I promise I’ll be quick. So, you remember the food you gave me earlier? I actually ate it, and it was really good! Your mom is a good cook, but then again, I’m pretty sure all moms are pretty good cooks. But like, I’m gonna be honest with you, I forgot to get groceries earlier this week, so I don’t really have much to eat— I could go order takeout or something but the thought of eating something greasy right now makes me wanna puke. I was thinking that since you probably don’t go out that much your mom might have given you extra servings of that soup, and I know it sounds really entitled and a bit bitchy but do you think you could please please please drop some off? 

“I promise I’ll pay you whatever and you seriously only need to drop it off at my door, it’s just that her cooking was really good and I almost started crying when I ate it— I get really emotional when I’m sick so I also think it’d be best for you to leave as quickly as you can; please please please please I promise I won’t ditch our study sessions for a good week at least, I’ll be good and study! I just think I’m gonna pass out right now and your mom’s food is the only thing I can think of right now… please?”

You feel out of breath as you finally finish your seemingly endless ramble— on the other side of the line, Beomgyu lets out an exasperated laugh. 

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be there.” You’re not sure when you began to get emotional over nothing, but you’re surprised to feel hot tears streaming down your face at Beomgyu’s words, a few hiccups escaping you as you let out a soft really? “Yeah, I’ll just leave it at your doorstep.”

Standing up, you stumble a bit as you wipe your tears away. If you hadn’t scared Beomgyu away before, you surely did now. 

“Drop it off inside. My door’s gonna be unlocked.”

There’s an odd pause after you say that; you’re about to question what happened before you hear rustling on his side of the phone, Beomgyu’s soft hum the last thing you hear before he lets out a soft “okay. I’ll be there.” You’re unable to thank him as he’s quick to hang up— and the exhaustion that has been building up inside you all day is suddenly released, the promise of food making your brain at ease as you slowly make your way over to the couch. 

You’re so tired— a small nap wouldn’t hurt, right? It would be nice to wake up to the sight of food at my doorstep, you think, a small smile easing onto your face as you find yourself curling up at the end of your couch; oh, you really can’t help yourself— your eyelids are becoming excruciatingly heavy. 

For the umpteenth time today, you allow yourself to sleep— even if it’ll only last twenty minutes at most. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu is a little off-put as he peeks inside your apartment. 

He feels odd, extremely guilty, and a bit shameful as he pops his head inside, all of his calls have gone to voicemail as he chose the next best option— you did say your door was unlocked, after all. 

He expected you to be scolding him for taking so long after forty minutes had passed, but he found himself pleasantly surprised (and somewhat worried) when his phone remained entirely unbothered; so now here he stands, multiple heavy bags filled with ingredients in his hands as he kicks off his shoes clumsily. 

He finds you fast asleep on the couch; he’s extremely concerned at how trusting you are, but he decides to chalk it up to the fact that your skin is burning hot to the touch and you’re probably not thinking straight— Beomgyu is quick to pull his palm away from your forehead the moment you stir even slightly, jolting into action as he flees into your kitchen instead. 

Placing the bags on your table, he looks back at you in worry— all he can do for now is wet a few paper towels, wringing out as much water as he can before he’s making his way to you cautiously; you’re burning up and sweaty as he dabs the towel on your skin, tutting softly as he finally places the towel on your forehead. 

“I knew you weren’t feeling well,” he scolds you softly, pulling the blanket that has fallen off your shoulders back on you carefully before he’s pulling away, rolling his eyes at the sight, “you’re lucky you practically pay my bills.”

Quietly, Beomgyu gets to work— he feels a bit bad for rummaging through your kitchen so boldly, but he’s sure you wouldn’t really mind if you woke up; you’re the one who invited him in the first place. 

At some point, Beomgyu finds himself quite comfortable in your kitchen— it’s quite spacious and allows him to get lost deep in his thoughts; he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s unable to pick up on the fact that you’re wide awake and slowly trudging your way to him. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” the sound of your voice is enough for him to practically jump out of his skin, narrowly missing his finger as he hurriedly drops the knife in his hands, spinning around wildly as he presses himself tightly against the counter— your tired and puffy face is eerily close to his as your lidded eyes stare up at him, still heavy with sleep as you frown softly. 

“What,” you mumble softly, taking in his flustered expression before your eyes are wandering to the mess behind him— the cutting board of vegetables, the stovetop that is busy with two pots simmering away, a familiar aroma filling your apartment; your eyes flick back to the way he seems both guilty and embarrassed, your head tilting as he watches you slowly piece everything together, “what is all this? Where’s your mom's food?”

Well, maybe not.

Beomgyu sighs— the sight of him shaking his head in dismay is enough to have your eyes widening with surprise, watching as he slowly turns his back to you; the constant rhythm of him cutting vegetables is the only sound that fills the room, and it seems that Beomgyu won’t be answering your question any time soon; you’re ready to protest and annoy him until he talks, but it seems he’s quick to beat you to it. 

“My mom wasn’t the one who made it,” he sighs, putting his knife down as he quickly goes to the pot of soup to give it a mix; your eyes are fluttering shut at the smell, a small smile gracing your lips as you fight the urge to have a taste then and there; but you’re snapped back to reality from his words, stammering as you look at him in confusion. 

“But— you said it was—“

“My mother's recipe,” he draws out, dropping the seasoned vegetables into a third pot as you watch them get steamed, “I’m the one who made the food.”

You think back to the floral lunch bag he handed to you hours earlier; how he seemed so hesitant to give it to you, oddly pouty as he watched the way you were quick to hand it to someone else— you feel yourself become embarrassed by your behavior, oddly defensive as you remember how much you begged for him to give you another taste.

“Oh. Okay,” you say, clearing your throat as you slump back down on a chair— you found it entirely too exhausting to be standing for that long, “it was the next best thing for me anyway— my driver is off right now so I have no one to take me anywhere.”

“I see you’re feeling better,” Beomgyu mumbles, rolling his eyes at your actions as your usual bratty self resurfaces; he almost found your delirious, emotional self from earlier more welcoming than this, forced to listen to more of your ramblings as you watch him cook. 

“No. Not at all actually,” you complain, the ache in your body suddenly much more noticeable than it was a few minutes ago as you cross your legs on the chair; you’re huddled up in your blanket again, staring at his back as you practically take out your pain on him, “my head feels like its gonna explode— my body’s so fucking hot but I can’t take this blanket off or else I’ll feel like I’m freezing my ass off. I don’t know what to do because I never get sick like this; if anything, I should’ve called our family doctor instead of you.” 

You feel a bit bad as the words come out sharper than you intended— Beomgyu is easy to read as he flinches at your statement, head ducked down and an awkward silence permeating the room as he says nothing in response. 

“…you’re lucky your mom taught you how to cook,”  you backtrack, your voice oddly soft as you press your lips together; you refuse to say anything more as you curl up tightly on the chair, laying your head down on the table as you attempt to let your blanket shield you from the world— you’re back to your unpredictable, emotional self as you feel a lump forming in your throat, a feeling of longing forming inside you as you wish you were home instead of here, pestering your poor tutor in exchange for a hefty sum of money.

“Hey,” his voice is much closer than you expected it to be as you peek up from your small fortress, raising a brow as you stare at the glass of water and pills in his hand, “take this. I’m guessing you haven’t taken any medication for your fever in a while.”

A soft ‘hmph’ is all that leaves you as you reluctantly accept the medicine (because the truth was that he was right). It isn’t until he shows you what he’s giving you as you take the pills begrudgingly; you hate that he can see through you so easily. Chugging down the glass of water, you fail to notice how he waits beside you patiently, sending him a petulant look as you wait for him to say something— instead, he raises a small thermometer to your forehead, taking your temperature as he lets out a soft tsk.

“Your temperature is way too high. Eat, then go back to sleep,” he says, only leaving your side to get you a proper serving of soup; it’s the same meal you had earlier, but you’re oddly excited as you notice the hefty amount of rice he gave you, a new side of him peeking through as he watches you carefully— it’s only when you send him a questioning look that he becomes red in the face, clearing his throat awkwardly as he points back to the mess behind him.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it,” he mumbles, not bothering to look you in the eyes as he quietly begins to take care of the dishes. 

“I wasn’t going to,” you remark, your mouth still full of rice as you scoff softly at his excuse— you find yourself oddly annoyed with him as you take in just how much he’s doing for you, unable to fathom anyone else doing all this for you, unprovoked.

He must really need the money, you reason with yourself, unsure of why else he would do such a thing— you roll your eyes at the thought, any intimacy that might have come from all this dissolving into thin air as you become oddly irritated with him. 

But you will admit, this soup really hits the spot. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’re out like a light moments after. 

If Beomgyu said he was surprised, it would definitely be a lie; you were barely awake on your couch for more than five minutes, and by the time Beomgyu finishes cleaning up and putting away the leftover ingredients in your fridge (which was criminally empty for someone who had so much money) you’re already curled back up in your corner of the couch, your temperature only having gone down slightly as you begin to toss and turn in your sleep. 

The wet paper towels that Beomgyu had placed on you earlier are folded neatly on your coffee table— Beomgyu huffs softly as he discards it, wetting some more before he’s placing it carefully on your forehead; he’s unsure of what else to do now, standing back awkwardly as he considers staying to watch over you— your condition seemed pretty serious from how high your temperature was, and it certainly didn’t help that you straight up rammed into the kitchen table and injured your shin from how unstable you were. 

And that’s when you became a crybaby once more. 

He can still see the lingering tears that cling to your lashes, a soft pout forming on your lips as you shiver slightly at the touch of the cool towel. What to do, he ponders, sitting on the couch opposite to you as he watches over you carefully, he’s not sure if there’s anyone else that could take care of you. 

Hell, the fact that he’s here of all people is enough to prove that to him; but also, he should really be studying for that upcoming physics exam that has been concerning him a bit. He glances back at you— calm, undisturbed, only shifting every once in a while as you tuck yourself deeper into the blanket you wrapped tightly around yourself— and he sighs, finding himself oddly torn as he wonders whether he should leave you or not. 

He could go back home and study, but he knows that he wouldn’t get very far, thoughts of you and your condition plaguing his mind as he desperately tried to focus. His thoughts are disrupted as you groan softly in discomfort, shifting restlessly on the couch before your eyes are fluttering open, locking with his instantly. 

“You’re still here,” you murmur, squinting at him as you cough softly, “thought you’d be gone by now.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him; it’s oddly condescending as he finds himself standing up instantly, clearing his throat as he looks away from you and your searing gaze. 

“Yeah,” he says, feeling strangely flustered as he makes his way to the front door; your eyes follow him the whole way there, and he feels so small under your gaze as he goes to slip his coat on. “I was just leaving.”

“Oh. ‘kay,” you shrug, shifting restlessly on the couch before you’re turning your back to him, curled into a ball as you wave at him weakly, “I’ll Venmo you later.”

He can’t help but feel bristled at your careless attitude, still not used to the way you’re always ready to spend money at the drop of a hat despite tutoring you for weeks now. Tying his shoes, he can’t help but glance at you one last time; it pains him to admit he’s slightly worried for you, but the rational part of him tells him it’s just because he doesn’t want you calling him to come back the moment you’re feeling nauseous again. 

Yet you remain still, resembling a rock as your figure is hidden under countless piles of blankets— judging by the steady rise and fall of it, he figures you already fell back asleep. 

It takes Beomgyu an embarrassingly long time to leave— but only because he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t wake up spontaneously and start whining, of course— you remain dead to the world the whole time he watches over you. 

By the time Beomgyu finally makes it out of your doorway, he feels more frustrated than anything. Because even once he gets home to study, he can’t help but keep his phone close-by, worried that you’ll call out of the blue asking for help. 

His phone remains silent all night.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

The next time Beomgyu sees you, he’s reminded as to why you had so many difficulties getting a tutor.

You’re flashy and perfect as always as you stand in the doorway of his apartment, arms crossed and eyes no-doubt narrowed behind your expensive designer shades. Your foot is tapping impatiently at the concrete outside as you tilt your head in annoyance— Beomgyu had made the mistake to ignore the first few rings of his doorbell, much too distracted by his game to remember that it would be you waiting for him.

“So? You gonna let me in, or do you need to tidy up first?” Beeomgyu’s mantra consists of how short your lesson will be today and the paycheck he’ll get out of it— one of the perks of you being desperate was that Beomgyu got to raise his rates shamelessly— and it takes Beomgyu a second to push past your intimidating and prickly demeanor to nod his head and step aside, watching as you push your shades up and secure them on your head.

It takes you a second to slip out of your shoes as you daintily put them aside, and Beomgyu can feel his ears become hot as he watches the way you wince slightly at the pair of guest slippers he hands you— though he tries to tell himself you don’t mean to be like this, a soothing lie that lets him lead you to his living room as he ignores his insecurity.

“Wait, can’t we just go to your room? I don’t feel like studying on the couch right now,” the yawn that rips through you is uncontrollable as you face away and cover your mouth politely— Beomgyu tries to not let his jaw drop to the floor in response. For someone who had never been to his apartment, you sure were demanding. He shouldn’t feel too surprised though, given how blunt you’ve proved to be the entire time he’s known you. 

He’s unable to say no as he gathers the textbook and notebooks on the table and leads the way; he can feel his heart pounding against his chest in fear that you’ll judge him, heart pounding slightly as he goes to lead you to where his room is. (He just hopes you’ll judge him internally, at the very least.)

Meanwhile, you’ve been biting back a smile this whole time; you know you’ve been quite bitchy to him this whole time, but you’d like to think it’s karma for making you study first thing at nine in the morning— his excuse had been the long shift he’d have to cover straight after the tutoring session. 

You’re quite surprised at the size and state of his apartment, expecting something much… cheaper, as you kept in mind how quick Beomgyu was to do something whenever you offered him money. Yet as you walk to his room, you’re left quiet as you take in the way everything in his home practically shines; his coffee table, the couch that lacks any crumbs or trash, and his carpet that seems to be recently vacuumed. 

You find yourself so caught up in the appearance of his apartment that you fail to notice another presence in the living room; specifically, one that lets out a loud chirp, your body jumping back from the startle and eyes growing wide as you search for the source of the sound— your eyes land on a cage tucked in the corner of the room, a bright green bird with big eyes staring at you curiously from within. 

“What the fuck is that?” you say softly— much louder than you intended, really— and Beomgyu is turning back around to see what you’re talking about, eyes widening as he realizes you’re currently staring down his bird with a slight wonder. 

“Oh— that’s Toto,” Beomgyu says, rushing to put everything in his arms down and scurrying after when he notices you beginning to get closer; he’s hovering over you, taking in your expression of curiosity carefully before he continues. “He’s my parrot.”

You let out a soft oh. You seem rooted to your spot as you watch the bird continue to climb around the cage, clearly much more active now that Beomgyu is nearby; the said man notes your obvious curiosity, and before he can stop and have any second thoughts, he’s reaching over you to open the cage. 

“Wait wait, what’re you—” a yelp escapes you and you’re jumping back the moment Beomgyu is reaching inside, hiding behind him and peeking over his shoulder to watch the way he extends a finger out to the bird— Toto— your mouth falling open dumbly as you take in the way the bird immediately climbs onto his hand.

Beomgyu is careful to take him out; you’re still peeking from behind him as you stare down his bird with wide eyes, body tensed as though it could fly away any given moment— you’re flinching in surprise when he’s turning to face you, hands coming up in defense as the bright green bird swings along, not a thought in its beady eyes as it’s suddenly thrust into your face— you step back again, the movement sudden and startling the bird as its wings flap slightly, which in turn startles you again— Beomgyu merely watches in amusement, and he tries his best to contain his laugh in fear of facing your prickly attitude. 

“What the hell,” you breathe out softly, brows twitching and knitting together as you stare at Toto as though it were a foreign creature you’ve never seen, “It’s so… weird looking.”

Beomgyu can only gawk at your comment. 

“He’s— he’s not,” is all Beomgyu can say in rebuttal, offended as he looks over at Toto, examining him in reassurance before he pulls his pet closer to his chest. 

“He’s a handsome little bird,” Beomgyu mutters, and you’re sure you definitely weren’t supposed to hear that, watching in amazement as Beomgyu strokes Toto’s head fondly, the said bird bowing its head so he can get better access, “you’re such a cool guy, don’t listen to her Toto.”

Glancing back at you, Beomgyu seems to realize what he’s just said, and blushes a soft pink— though you’re not sure why he’s acting so shy, you’ve literally been standing there the whole time— and he clears his throat awkwardly, casting his gaze back to his pet and running his finger along the bird gently before he’s speaking again. 

“Do you wanna hold him?”

“I— what?!” you say indignantly, eyes growing the size of saucers as you stare at him, acting as though he’s just told you something extremely offensive, “I don’t want that thing near me, what if it— it…”

You’re trailing off slowly— Beomgyu looks absolutely dejected. You can tell he’s trying not to show his hurt, avoiding your gaze and staring down at Toto instead, but he simply reminds you too much of a kicked puppy to let you continue your baffled ramblings; a moment passes where the two of you don’t say anything, but you finally break the second Beomgyu looks like he’s about to put Toto back in. 

“Fine.”

He looks back at you immediately; his eyes look like they’ve been filled with stars. 

“Give— give me the bird,” you mumble offhandedly, outstretching your hand awkwardly and finding yourself unable to look at him for once; you can feel the heat of embarrassment threatening to creep onto your skin, but you will it away and bite your cheek as you wait for Beomgyu to do something.

After a second, you feel it; the pressure on your finger, the weird texture and the claws that dig into your skin as the bird’s little feet wrap around you, unable to contain the way you shudder at the feeling; your arm has gone rigid and you’re reluctant to look at the pet that is now perched on your hand, afraid that it might attack you or something— but after a deep breath and some mental encouragement, you do it anyway. 

This thing is so fucking creepy, you find yourself thinking, face screwing into one of disdain as you take in the way it simply remains still, freaking you out even further when it suddenly tilts its head in curiosity. 

It begins to climb up your arm. 

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” you breathe out in a panic, extending your arm away from you as steadily and quickly as you can, the thing now perched on your forearm as you bite back a squeal of fear— you’re looking over at Beomgyu in a haste, expression blatantly screaming help me!— and he quickly springs into action the moment your eyes meet. 

“Toto,” Beomgyu coos, clicking his tongue and reaching out to place his hand at Toto’s feet; but the bird only continues to climb up and runs away from Beomgyu, a long, slightly terrified, groan leaving your lips as you can only watch it in horror, much too afraid to jerk your arm and send Toto flying; the moment it’s talons find its way onto your shoulder, you find yourself looking away and praying. 

“Toto,” Beomgyu tries again, a little stressed now as he watches his bird perch peacefully on your shoulder— you, on the other hand, are in utter distress, shoulders tense and eyes screwed shut as you mentally pray for the thing to not peck at you— you think you’ve started to hold your breath now. 

Through your eyes that peek slightly in fear, you’re able to see Beomgyu reach down at the storage unit beneath the cage and grab something; Toto seems to shift on your shoulder from the sight, and you grow tense as you wonder what the hell the man could be up to— with another call of Toto’s name, the bird finally jumps off your shoulder and over to Beomgyu.

Your body practically slumps in relief. 

Beomgyu is back to holding Toto in his hand; your brows furrow at the sight of it eating something strange, your obvious confusion making Beomgyu smile slightly.

“It’s millet,” he explains, slowly moving to put Toto back in the cage before he places the said millet inside as well; with one last gentle scratch at Toto’s head, Beomgyu closes the cage. “It’s like a treat for him.”

“Whatever,” you say dismissively, glancing at Toto one last time before you shudder and turn away, “I don’t wanna see him again.”

Beomgyu isn’t too offended by your comment; if anything, he smiles in amusement, muttering softly that Toto seems to like you— you make a point to blatantly ignore his comment.

Any confidence Beomgyu had built up from before disappears the moment you finally arrive before the door that leads to the room; he’s found himself nervous once more, shifting the materials in his arms and reach out to open his door cautiously; he hopes you didn’t take notice of the way his hand shook slightly.

His room is no different than the rest of the apartment as you stand in the doorway, curiously surveying it all; your brow raises in amusement as you take in the way his personality is scattered throughout the small room. His bed is neatly made and the sheets are pressed to perfection, and the nightstand contains a stack of books that are both thick and annotated. 

In front of you, you watch Beomgyu awkwardly place the books in his arms down on the bed, pushing up his glasses as you allow your eyes to continue drifting around— they instantly land on the desk setup in the corner of the room, your eyes widening as you’re able to recognize how expensive the setup is; two monitors display a random game you seem to recognize, and you let your curiosity get the best of you as you approach it slowly. 

The keyboard is lighting up before you and a headset is hung on one of the monitors, and you let out a soft tsk as you take in the empty coffee cups beside the mouse, the only messy thing about his whole room; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s spilled the liquid over the setup before. 

What surprised you the most however, are the countless picture frames and cute figurines that are scattered all over the room— a lucky cat is perched right at his windowsill, waving at you repeatedly as you’re unable to hold back your laugh of bewilderment; everything seems to be dusted and well taken care of, you’re surprised Beomgyu can ever find the energy to do such things. 

“You play League of Legends?” Is all you say, turning around as you meet Beomgyu’s flustered face; Beomgyu had been on the verge of melting into a puddle of embarrassment the entire time you looked around his room, unsure of what to say or do the moment you approached his gaming setup. He was sure you’d make fun of him, but instead he’s pleasantly surprised as he silently hopes his face isn’t a raging red at the moment. (It definitely is, but you’re kind enough to give him a break and not tease him about it.)

“Oh— yeah. You play?” It’s oddly adorable to watch the way his eyes light up and his whole body perks up excitedly, but you find it even more adorable to watch the way he deflates as you bark out a laugh of surprise, your whole face lighting up as you cover your mouth in apology, feeling a slight pity for managing to make him look like a kicked puppy again. 

“Fuck no!” You say in amusement, unable to imagine yourself doing such a thing, “Huening used to be obsessed with it though.” 

You roll your eyes at the memory, recalling all the nights back in high school where he’d leave you alone in his bed, staying up late gaming with his friends while you hid in his room during social gatherings— but now he “outgrew that childish game,” according to him. If anything, you think he outgrew gaming all together, especially after you expressed how ridiculous the whole thing seemed to you. 

“Huening, the guy from your apartment?” Beomgyu says meekly, eyes downcast as he flips through his notes mindlessly; you scoff, flopping on the bed next to him as you cross your legs daintily.

“Yeah, the guy from my apartment,” you say, leaning in to try and catch his gaze, “what, you jealous?” 

Your comment is enough to have Beomgyu a sputtering mess; you don’t think he could get any redder than he is now as he shoves his notebook into your lap, clearing his throat weakly as he scoots away from you, leaving an offending amount of space as he squeaks out a defensive no. 

“Wouldn’t blame you if you were,” you tease, staring down at the notes as you try to decipher what the hell it could all mean— it’s embarrassing when you’re left on your own for a good minute, unable to say anything about the material before Beomgyu is finally jumping to your aide and explaining things to you; slowly, you settle down and allow him to begin the session. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’d like to pat yourself on the back for lasting so long. Lasting so long without being difficult, that is, because the hour of peace Beomgyu got was short lived before you became a short-tempered brat before him—the only thing that surprises him at this point is the confidence you get to be like this all the time.

“I seriously don’t get this stuff,” you whine, kicking Beomgyu softly as you hold back a smile— it was clearly done to tease him— laying back on his bed as you cross your arms childishly, “I think I should just change my major.” 

Beomgyu isn’t surprised that you find that so easy to say— for a moment, he dreams of being able to do the same when times get tough, but he was quick to come back to reality as he watched you kick at him petulantly; you managed to lay on his bed and make yourself comfortable, splayed over his pillows as you continued to mess around with him. 

“Can’t we take a break? I’ve been good,” you pout, tapping your fingers on your bicep as you look at him sweetly— Beomgyu has to look away in order to say no, tapping his pencil on his notebook as he quietly prays for you to settle down and focus again. 

“Come on, you’re lucky I showed up in the first place,” Beomgyu’s gaze is glued to his notebook as you roughly sit up, your denim shorts riding up your thighs as you kneel close to him; taking a deep breath to calm himself proves to be a mistake as he gets a good smell of your expensive perfume, biting his lip as he watches you try to get his attention by getting closer to him.

“You only showed up because I did you a favor,” it’s odd that you find the way his voice trembles and his ears turn red adorable, but then again, you’d be a little sad if a man didn’t react that way to you. 

You have him wrapped around your finger— it’s a fact that dawns on you as you watch the way he doesn’t shut you down and forces you to study. Scooting closer to him, you lean down, pressing your cheek against his bicep as you stare down at the countless notes that lay before him. 

“Well, that and because you’re kinda cute,” you admit, holding back a smile at the way he flinches at the sudden contact, “But seriously, I’m so bored.” 

Beomgyu thinks you might have gone insane as he watches the way you take the materials in his lap away from him, setting it to the side before you’re stringing yourself across his lap, stretching cutely as you stare up at him with wide doe eyes— he’s quickly looking back up as he fails to find the strength to push you off. 

“I can’t believe I actually came here this early,” you say, adjusting yourself on his thighs before you’re grabbing his hand, playing with his sleeve coyly as you wonder how far you can take this, “How’d you afford this place all by yourself? It’s in a good area too.” 

“I didn’t,” Beomgyu stutters out, clearing his throat as he pulls his hand away from your grasp shyly, “I have a roommate— Yeonjun.” 

“Choi Yeonjun? Captain of the baseball team?” You say, eyes widening as you watch Beomgyu nod softly; you’re sitting up, ignoring the way Beomgyu visibly relaxes at the action, “Is he here right now?” 

“No, he’s out,” Beomgyu frowns, watching as the gears turn in your head, your pout obvious as you take in his response, “he won’t be home for another three hours.” 

How in the hell did he and Beomgyu become roommates? It’s a question you’re quite literally fighting the urge to ask, but knowing that one of the most attractive guys you’ve had your eye on currently lives in the same house as the man before you makes you want to stick around longer— though you think you might be too obvious about it, judging by the way Beomgyu’s frowning at you. 

“That’s nice,” you hum, feeling a bit bad for the way Beomgyu looks away in defeat, “but that means we’re all alone here?” 

Your question is enough to have Beomgyu sitting up straight— your tone is so dangerous, the way you slowly crawl to him even more so.

He quickly finds himself scooting back, eyes flying around wildly as he almost falls off the bed— you’re quick to catch him, pulling him by the collar of his sweater as his adam’s apple bobs visibly. His long hair falls back and his face is left exposed to you, your body finding comfort on top of his as you straddle his thighs comfortably. His glasses are left on the tip of his nose as his ears quickly turn red, cheeks dusted with the same color as he uselessly props himself up on his elbows; you’re practically nose to nose as you tower over him, your cute blouse hanging and exposing your breasts in a way that has Beomgyu staring straight above your head— in return, the reflection of your sunglasses is all that meets him. 

“Do you ever take a break?” You ask, letting go of his collar before you’re gently smoothing it out; he’s shivering at your touch, eyes fluttering shut nervously as he exhales at the feeling of your warm hand— he knows you can see the way he tenses as you begin to trail your palm down his chest, pressing teasingly where his heart resides as you tilt your head cutely.

“Ever stop studying and just…. Take care of yourself?” The implications of your words couldn’t be more obvious with the way your voice drops, your thighs clenching around his body as you watch his breath hitch at the action; your fingers delicately drum against his chest as you wait for him to say something, to push you off and tell you to never speak to him again— instead, he shakes his head, his shyness intensifying as his eyes remain shut. 

“Will you let me take care of you?” You breathe out, entranced with the way his eyes finally open to meet yours— within them, he sees no malice or mockery, just an intense fire and need that has his stomach twisting and his hands grabbing at his neatly pressed sheets in anticipation.

Softly, he nods. 

You’ve never experienced this before; you’ve never had a man pliant and weak under you, ready to take whatever you give him with adoring eyes that sparkle under the lights. You’re so used to being the one in that position, of allowing yourself to be used and molded how they’d like— so to say you’re quite surprised at the thrill you feel is an understatement. 

“You’re like a little puppy,” you mumble sweetly, reaching up to caress his heated cheeks— the whine that escapes him is involuntary, your eyes clouding with lust as you take in the way he reacts to your nickname; leaning up, you grab the collar of his sweater as you guide him to sit up with you— you’re in awe of how obedient he is as he follows your command, hands hovering politely as he waits for your next move. 

“Do you like it when I call you that?” You tilt your head, laying your hands by Beomgyu’s collar bones before they’re sliding up, intertwining lazily behind his nape as you’re leaning in teasingly; you’re so close to him, you can feel his breath fan on your face as you tease the corner of his lips with your own— you’re pulling away the moment he tries to chase you, giving him an expectant look as you wait for him to answer your question. “Puppy?” 

“Y—yes, I…” he’s unable to finish his sentence the moment he feels your chest press against his, soft breasts teasing him as he squeezes his eyes shut; you’re everywhere, your lips planting feather-like kisses on his cheeks as you begin to overwhelm his senses. Your warm thighs that encase him, your hands that play with the nape of his hair, your perfume that he gets to inhale as you tilt your neck closer to him— hell, as you reach his jaw, he’s able to smell your shampoo, the scent addicting and no doubt expensive as you press yourself firmly against him.

This is insane. There should be no universe where Beomgyu should have one of the richest girls in his university pressed against him and on his lap, and there’s no way he’s the one submitting himself so pathetically in it. Yet here he is, practically leaning into your touch and chasing after you the moment you pull away, feeling a whine escape from his throat as he finally finds the courage to place a hand on your hip; keeping you in place, fingertips splayed over the swell of your ass as you try and fail to hide the smile that breaks out on your face. 

“Stupid puppy wants me to kiss him?” You pout mockingly, and instead of feeling the usual shame bubbling within him from your condescending tone, Beomgyu can only feel himself melt pathetically, pouty face and shining doe eyes begging you to give in as you brush away a strand of hair that fell in his eye; Beomgyu’s eyes flutter shut at the gentle touch, lips parting before he finally feels you swoop in and take him by surprise. 

Your lip gloss is sweet and sticky as you ravish the boy below you, able to feel his inexperience and eagerness with the way he’s practically ready to push you back into the mattress— but he holds himself back, allowing you to swipe your tongue along his lip and tease him before you’re venturing further. 

It’s all so lewd and desperate, and Beomgyu feels dazed by the time you’re finally pulling away, a Cheshire grin on your face as you swipe his bottom lip that’s shining with lip gloss and saliva; like instinct, his lips part and close around your thumb, eyes never straying from yours as you feel his tongue swipe over the finger teasingly— your gaze darkens at the sight, mind racing with all the things you could do to him as you watch the way his plush lips circle around the digit. 

The pop that sounds throughout the room when you pull away is enough to make you let out a soft groan, your eyes tracing along his body until you finally find the very thing you’re curious about— smiling, you’re not as surprised to find his dick straining against the neat fabric of his trousers.

“Can I touch you, pup?” You ask, your voice breathy and deep as you wait patiently for his answer; once again, he gulps, shining eyes just as dazed as you are before he finally lets out a soft yes; slowly, your perfectly manicured hand makes its way down to his khaki trousers, playing with the button before you’re finally undoing it— the sigh that Beomgyu lets out once you undo his zipper is practically lethal, your lips twitching in delight at the sound.

It’s cute to see the way his hips buck up into the air as you reveal his boxers, helping you pull down his pants until you’re face to face with the very thing you’ve been wanting the most. It’s odd, but it seems as though Beomgyu brings out a side you didn’t think existed, a teasing smile creeping its way onto your face as you plant your core firmly on him; he’s letting out a strangled gasp at the sudden pressure and warmth, his eyes screwing shut as his lips are falling open, the sight tempting as you resist the urge to kiss him again. 

Beomgyu is like an instrument under your touch, and you’re eager to learn how to play as you slowly begin to rock your hips back and forth; the reaction is instant for him as he bucks up into you, whimpering cutely as his eyes remain shut the whole time. Your thighs feel so soft against his own, and he’s sure he won’t last long if he’s forced to inhale your intoxicating scent the whole way through. 

It isn’t until you’re climbing off his lap that Beomgyu’s eyes are finally flying open, meeting yours in a confused haze as he allows you to push him back and tower over him as he lays; he looks so enticing and pretty with his hair splayed out around the sheets, lidded eyes and fucked out expression oddly addicting to you as you go to straddle one of his thighs. 

“You’re so cute,” you coo, pushing his sweater up as you run your nails teasingly over his stomach— you laugh softly as he flinches at the feeling. Slowly, you’re pulling the waistband of his boxers down until his cock is finally springing out and smacking against his stomach; his tip is red and sticky as a line of precum is left connected to his stomach, his eyes shutting in embarrassment once more as he turns his head to the side in an effort to turn away. He’s so long as you take him in, appreciating the vein that runs along the curve of his shaft with a soft hum.

“Please,” he whines, covering his face with his hands as his body grows hotter the longer you stare at him; you can only laugh fondly at the sight, watching the way his hips buck up uselessly at the sound. 

“My puppy, you’re so pretty,” you sigh, spitting in your hand before you’re finally reaching down to grab ahold of him; the feeling is unexpected as Beomgyu lets out a soft yelp under you, his cries dying out the moment you’re beginning to stroke him teasingly. 

“How long has it been since you let out some steam?” You tease, running your thumb across his tip and spreading the precum along as he simply moans in response; he’s so whiny and breathy as none of your words seem to register in his head, enamored by the pretty girl that’s sitting on his thigh and stroking his cock so well. 

You can’t help yourself when you readjust to kneel between his legs, his face still covered by his hands as he doesn’t anticipate your next move— Beomgyu swears he almost came the moment he felt your mouth wrap around his tip. Your mouth is practically watering around Beomgyu’s cock as you slowly take him in, surprised by his length yet determined to hear more of his pathetic gasps and whines as you slowly take him in. 

“Oh god, oh god, you’re so— y-you’re so warm, oh,” Beomgyu is a babbling mess as his hands land helplessly on your head, unsure of what to do with them as he feels the tip of your nose press against his navel; his eyes are practically rolling back as he feels the mess you’re making on his cock, your mouth so hot and wet he can’t help the way he subtly thrusts into it.

“I’m sorry, I— I didn’t mean to…” his words are dying on his tongue the moment he feels you reach for his hand and pull back, guiding him to set the pace as you run your tongue over his tip— that’s enough to have Beomgyu whining and out of breath, but he’s able to pull himself together as he slowly begins to fuck your mouth. 

“Shit, you’re so pretty, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Beomgyu breathes out, fascinated with the way you remain completely cool even as he begins thrusting his cock into your throat, “so good.”

The sudden confession doesn’t process in Beomgyu’s mind, but it has your mind reeling as you close your eyes, determined to make this man fall apart under you as you ignore the flutter of butterflies in your stomach. 

It takes Beomgyu a second to find his pace as he’s gently stroking your hair, face warm and shining with embarrassment as he tries to ignore how inexperienced he may seem— contrary to what he might think, you don’t really care; the only thing you care for is how melodic he sounds as his hips begin stuttering into your mouth, the feeling of your tongue running along his shaft too much for him as his breath hitches pathetically. 

“Wait wait wait— oh my god, I’m so— Ah, please don’t stop,” he’s whimpering and babbling at your touch, his hand attempting to pull you off as he nears his release; you only sink further in retaliation, the loud moan that Beomgyu lets out giving you satisfaction as you feel his cum spurting against the back of your throat— your eyes are barely able to catch his expression as he throws his head back, hips stilling entirely as he rides out his orgasm. 

Beomgyu is still trying to catch his breath when he feels his hips bucking subconsciously, the feeling of you pulling away making him whine softly from the sensitivity. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, his glasses skewed and his vision a haze as his gaze meets yours— he’s able to catch the way you swallow, your mouth empty as a teasing grin sneaks onto your face.

His stomach flips at the sight. 

He’s unsure of what to do as you sit up, your hair mused and your clothes in disarray as you take him in with an intense stare— he feels oddly shy as he tugs down his sweater to cover himself, gulping nervously as he begins to wonder if this was all a twisted joke— some sort of childish dare, anything that was meant to humiliate him. 

Instead, he feels you reach forward to fix his glasses, brushing away the hair that was stuck to his forehead as you smiled sweetly; Beomgyu thinks he forgot how to breathe as he takes in your proximity, left frozen as you leave a slow, chaste kiss on his lips. 

“I should go— you have work, right?” The question is enough to snap Beomgyu back to reality, nodding softly as you finally get up from his bed; turning to his mirror, you fix your appearance, brows raising in curiosity as you notice the guitar that’s propped up beside it— you briefly wonder if he’s good at playing it, and find yourself wanting to ask if he can sing; you refrain. “I’ll let you get ready then.”

There’s not much Beomgyu can say as he watches you go to his door like nothing happened; he flinches in surprise as you turn back to him one last time, a grin on your face as you send him one final goodbye. 

“This was fun.” 

Beomgyu is left to decipher your words and intentions as you walk away. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Why did you do that. 

“Oh god, why did I do that?” 

You’re a puddle of embarrassment as you roll around in the back of your driver’s car, your hands plastered on your face as you try to melt away from this reality— instead, the memory of Beomgyu’s flustered and fucked out face is the only thing that meets your eyelids. 

You’re not sure what took over you— what in the world possessed you to fuck your tutor? You knew that if you told your friends you’d never hear the end of it, but you think you might be at risk of losing the only thing that was helping you get your grades up after this. 

It was already difficult to get Beomgyu to agree to be in a room alone with you— and now you had to absolutely fuck up and push the boundaries to a place where you’d never return. 

Out of all the men, it just had to be Choi Beomgyu. It’s a fact that makes your face heat up and your head hit the back of the car seat in defeat as you stare out the window in dismay; instead of going for someone who was in your league, you chose to go after a nobody. 

You didn’t even get anything out of it! The thought is humiliating as you shut your eyes and groan, ignoring the way your driver glances back at you in concern; you sucked his dick and dipped— that is so unlike you. 

Everything about the situation is unlike you— you would never go after someone like Beomgyu, he didn’t align with your type at all! The feeling of dread in your stomach is only worsened as you mentally go through the people you’ve been with in the past, cringing the more you realize how much of an outlier Beomgyu is. 

“Mr. Kim,” you call out, pulling down your shades as you avoid the rays of sunlight that are hitting your face. He’s perking up in response immediately, glancing at you through his mirror before he nods his head to indicate he’s listening. 

“Take me to Hueningkai’s house please,” you say, taking your phone out of your purse as you absentmindedly text Huening that you’re on your way— Mr. Kim’s yes ma’am is left unanswered as you watch Hueningkai respond within seconds— all you can do is sink further in your seat at his eagerness to see you, the implications of his message more than clear to you.

The drive to his home is long and silent, and you’re forced to reflect on yourself the whole way through— the more you do, the more flustered and confused you feel, forcing yourself to set those thoughts to the side as Mr. Kim pulls up to Huening’s driveway.

Yet even as you’re walking to his doorstep, an eager smile forced on your face as you wait for Huening to answer, you can’t help the way your thoughts stray. It all seems to linger on the same subject, gulping nervously at the way Beomgyu’s small whines still ring out in your head. 

“Hey,” Hueningkai smiles, leaning against the doorway as he takes you in; you try to ignore the way his hungry eyes take you in, greeting him softly before you’re pushing past him and going inside, kicking your shoes off at the doorway. 

“What’s up?” Hueningkai immediately asks, noticing the way you don’t indulge in any of his games or teasing, your face blank as you plop down on the couch. “You need something?” 

“No,” you say, oddly defensive as you lay along his couch, crossing your legs as you proceed to do the same with your arms, “Can’t I just chill at your place without needing anything?” 

Hueningkai raises a brow at your huffy comment. Tilting his head, he smiles, a gesture sly and teasing as he watches the way you stand your ground. 

“Well, whenever you come over it’s usually not to just chill,” he says, repeating your words with clear amusement, “so forgive me for thinking something was off.” 

You’re in a bad mood today; Hueningkai is quick to pick up on it as you scoff at his words, looking away from him and pouting as you remain silent. Slowly, he makes his way to you, testing out the waters before he’s sitting down at your feet. 

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks, slowly beginning to hover over you until you can’t help but look at him; he’s everywhere, a holding himself up with a hand by your head while the other finds its way to your hip— playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly teasing you until he’s pushing past and caressing your skin— you flinch at the feeling of his cold hand. 

“Come on, we can talk,” he says, but you know he doesn’t really mean it with the way his leg is trying to pry your thighs open, pressing up against your core as he feels something unexpected— his eyes are lighting up as he smiles down at you, raising a brow as he takes in the small change of your expression. 

“Or maybe you don’t wanna talk?” He says, the surprising heat that meets his thigh is more than welcome as he watches you become flustered under him. 

“Fuck off Huening,” you groan, pressing a hand against his chest as you turn away from him— all you get in return is a dark laugh, his lips ghosting along your jawline as he presses a firm kiss under your ear, his hand pushing your shirt up as it wanders towards your breasts. 

“Hmm, are you sure?” He huffs, adjusting his position so that he’s able to place a hand on your hip, grinding your hips against his thighs as he bites his lip at the sight, “won’t you put those pretty lips to use at least?” 

The irritation that had been brewing inside you is far too much to handle as you scoff at his words, your head snapping back to glare at him as you push against his chest firmly, catching him off guard as you knock him off his balance entirely; he’s knocked out of his lusty reverie as he stares at you with wide eyes from the other end of the couch, lips parting as he attempts to say something, only to be cut off by you. 

“Seriously Huening, I’m not in the fucking mood!” You snap, pulling your top back down harshly before you’re standing up— he’s left to watch in confusion as you readjust yourself, your brows furrowed in a mean frown as you glare at him once more— and to think you thought you’d be able to spend more than five minutes with Hueningkai without him wanting to fuck you. 

“Come on baby, you know I didn’t mean it like that—“ 

“Do you ever think without your dick when you’re around me?” It’s annoying to see how nonchalant Hueningkai is as he laughs off your words, crossing his arms defensively as he tries to play off what just happened. 

“You didn’t even think to check up on me when I was sick!” You thought you were over the bitter moment, but the memory still seems to sting as you remind him of a time where you needed him the most, “ever since we started this whole… stupid friends with benefits thing, you’ve been acting like such a prick!” 

“Don’t be like this,” Hueningkai groans, throwing his head back as he runs a hand through his hair, “you’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh my god!” You bark, left in disbelief as you pace around his apartment, “like seriously, are you listening to yourself right now?!”

You’re more than fed up as you make your way back to the entrance, gathering your things and slipping on your shoes as you hear Hueningkai following close behind, spouting excuses and other nonsense to try and make you stay. 

You’ve opened the door when Hueningkai grabs onto you desperately, tugging you back into his chest and asking you to listen to him as he sets firm hands on your hips; you’re looking at everything but him as you remain silent, your hands pressed defensively against his chest as you give him on last chance to redeem himself. 

“Come on baby, you know I don’t wanna lose you,” he says, his voice soft and vulnerable as he leans in, watching as you tilt your head away from him and continue to refuse to meet his eyes. Feeling him press you harder against him, your jaw clenches as he places a sweet kiss on your cheek. 

“Lemme make it up to you. Please?” 

You know perfectly well what his words entail as you push him away from you once more, swinging your purse and smacking him harshly as you let your anger out on him. He has the audacity to laugh and cower away from you as he apologizes, telling you that it was just a joke as you continue to hit him relentlessly. 

“Fuck you!” You say, out of energy and left a huffing mess as you swing the door open behind you, “asshole!” 

You don’t stay around to see his reaction as you slam the door shut, storming away and walking along the sidewalk as you pull your phone out. 

Pick me up please. 

Huening’s being an asshole, I’m waiting outside. 

It’s moments like these where you regret being irresponsible with your car, left with nothing but your driver as you still wait for your precious baby to come out of the repair shop; to this day your parents still scold you for an accident that happened over a month ago, the words “bad driver” tacked on along with the rest that curate your reputation.  

In a perfect world, Hueningkai would’ve come out by now; he would’ve gone after you, apologizing and hanging his head in shame in regards to his behavior— in a perfect world, he wouldn’t have turned into the person he is now, forgoing your friendship entirely to satiate his needs— you hadn’t given much thought to what the consequences to this “friends with benefits” thing would be, but if you could go back in time to the moment where he drunkenly proposed it to you, you would’ve been quick to shut him down with an incredulous laugh. 

It was your fault for having a soft spot for him. Your fault for wondering what his lips would feel like one too many times, for being caught staring at him back when you were just kids and you were forced to attend dinner parties together, trying and failing to conceal the way he could fluster you with just a single smile. 

Now that his desires have been satiated, you doubt he has any use for you now— which is why you find yourself waiting pathetically outside his apartment, not used to this feeling that festers in your stomach as you wait patiently— whether it’s simply for your driver or for the glimmering hope that Hueningkai will own up to his actions and take you back, you’re not sure.

But what you do know is that you’ve never felt so small. 

Moments later, your driver arrives; you swear you try to hold back, but you can’t help yourself from turning around and taking one last peek at Huening’s quiet, dull apartment— gritting your teeth, you flop inside, groaning obnoxiously as you rub your temples in annoyance; your driver is unfazed by your behavior— meeting his eyes, you sigh. 

“I need to go shopping.”

Wordlessly, he nods— you don’t bother to stare out the window once you finally feel the car moving, in fear that your mind may begin to imagine scenarios that simply won’t happen. 

The car ride is silent, and you realize with a frown that you may have left with a mood worse than before.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

This department store is useless.

Geez, did you piss off some god above or something? Because as you stand in your tenth store in the past hour, nose scrunched and brows furrowed unpleasantly, you feel as though you may be getting karma for something— though what it may be exactly, you’re unsure. 

Everything around you is either already in your closet or simply outdated. Your fingertips tap rhythmically against your crossed arms, eyes narrowed as you take slow strides around the aisles of the stores— a part-time employee follows closely behind you, hands folded neatly and a pleasant smile glued to face as she comments on every item your eyes fall on, even if it’s just for a second; your jaw ticks at her cheap tactics to sell to you. 

There’s only one thing that would make your mood at this time— a limited edition purse you have had your eyes on, trying your best to catch your usual stores at the right times in hopes of getting your hands on it. Yet, with every failed attempt, your frustrations and efforts only grow, and you’ve found yourself visiting these stores more often than you’d like, always leaving with an item or two despite telling yourself not to do so. 

“Excuse me,” you say sternly, your steps coming to a halt as you slowly turn to the employee. She’s meek and her voice is airy as she speaks to you, eyebrows raised as though she seems genuinely interested in what you might say next— her act only displeases you more. 

“I’m trying to shop in peace, please leave me alone.” you say, watching as the woman simply flinches at your comment, smile stiffening on her lips before she’s swiftly apologizing seconds after— if you weren’t careful, you could’ve missed the way her lips turned up with irritation as she turned, muttering quietly to herself as though you weren’t two steps away to hear it.

Rich snob, you pick up, blinking in surprise as you watch her steps becoming hasty with her retreat. You don’t allow yourself to be fazed by it, a smile tugging at your lips from amusement before you turn back around; scanning the store, you glance at the mannequins on display, taking in the outfits briefly before you catch onto something else— and before you can control yourself, you’re walking again. 

Don’t be stupid, your brain tells you, yelling at you as you exit the store with haste, pushing past the people standing around as you make your way to the store across, Don’t do this, this is a bad idea, don’t—

Do it, your heart tells you, pounding against your chest as you adjust the purse strap on your shoulder, gulping slightly as you swing open the door, you’re not here for him, you’re here for the very thing you’ve worked so hard for. 

And if it so happens to be in his hands right now, then is it really your fault that you find yourself standing before the very man that hurt you mere moments ago?

“Cute purse,” you breathe out, eyes glued to the way it shines beautifully under the lights of the store, “Though I don’t really think it’s your style.”

Hueningkai doesn’t bother looking up. He’s too busy handling the limited edition purse that you’ve so desperately been searching for, nimble fingers running over the details as though he were actually taking his time to inspect it; instead, he hums softly at your words, pretending to ponder for a second before he’s frowning. 

“You really think so?” he asks, tsking softly to himself before he’s shaking his head, straightening up before he runs a hand against the surface; you watch the way his fingers slide across the material, teeth tugging at your lip as you fight the twitch of your brows, wanting nothing more than to take the item from his hands and walk away. 

You stand there in silence, for a moment; you wonder slightly if Hueningkai is simply ignoring you, and the idea is enough to have you bristling with anger, your jaw clenching as you decide that it’s better to leave now than to look helpless before him— but he’s looking up at you, lidded eyes catching you in a daze as he tilts his head, sending you his signature charming smile. 

“It wasn’t for me,” he says, looking down at the purse in his hands and holding it close to him, as though gauging its weight, “It was going to be a gift.”

“A gift? Quite the gesture on your part,” you scoff, looking at the display area in exasperation— fuck, the only purse in this awful store is in his hands, you realize— leaving you with no other choice but to hope that he’ll stop playing games and leave the purse he clearly never had any intentions of buying, “But I don’t think those other girls you talk to would be very interested in such a specific item like this— I’d suggest appealing to their own interests a bit more.”

With gritted teeth, you reach out to take the bag; an impulsive move on your part, not exactly surprised with the way Hueningkai immediately backs up and holds the bag close to him. You can practically feel your blood boil from the sheer anger that’s taking over from his antics, unamused entirely at the way he merely sends you an innocent smile. 

“Don’t be rude,” he smiles, taking yet another step back, making more distance between you two, “Who are you to say what they would or wouldn’t like? Plus, I saw this first, and I had full intentions of buying it.”

You remain silent— whether you’re too baffled to speak or are simply trying to not explode and yell at him in the middle of the store, you’re not entirely sure— but, as you watch him raise a brow challengingly, you can only find yourself thinking one thing. 

Fuck this. You’ll just order it online. 

The idea takes away the very joy of being able to find it by chance, but you’d rather die right now than grovel to Hueningkai— like he very clearly wants— in hopes that he’ll take pity on you and give you the purse; spinning on your heels, you make your way out with brisk steps.

You don’t get very far before you hear him calling out your name— but you ignore it, a baffled scoff escaping you in response to his sheer audacity to act so shameless after belittling you a few hours prior; you’re a few steps away from the exit when you feel a tug on your wrist, jolting you back and preventing you from leaving.

“What, Hueningkai?” you say, huffing exasperatedly as you shake off his grip on you, “Can’t you just leave me alone for once? I’m not in the mood to play your stupid games.”

“Well then why don’t you talk to me instead of running away childishly?” he says sharply, and you have to bite your tongue in order to not point out his hilariously hypocritical statement, “you’re acting so weird, what the hell happened?”

You think you might just do something that’ll get you banned from the store— but something catches your eye before you can act out on your impulses, and you’re ripping your wrist from Hueningkai’s hold with one last harsh tug. Your gaze is no longer on him; he tries to follow your line of sight, but fails to catch onto what you’re looking at. 

“Get out or leave me alone,” you say, giving him one last cold look before you’re brushing past him, “I’m not interested in talking to you.”

You’re weaving through the displays and getting out of his sight quickly— and Hueningkai is left with a purse he had no interest in buying, looking down at the item before he scoffs; he throws it off at a random shelf and exits promptly after. 

Your footsteps are haste and your heels click rhythmically on the tiled floor; you’re making your way to the cash register, watching his meek stance and the way he flinches under your gaze, a flush running up the back of his neck and coloring his ears red— but you don’t dare to look away from him, placing a rough hand on the counter and leaning close as you inspect him.

“You didn’t tell me you worked here.”

Beomgyu is attempting to stutter out a weak response; his cheeks are colored and his hair is tied back neatly, and you can see the way his hands twitch, undoubtedly resisting the urge to run a hand through the neat style. 

“Why— why would I tell you? It’s not something you’d need to know. Or– is it…?”

You’ve confused him, that much you’re sure of. His brows have knitted together and he remains flustered beyond belief— you’re sure you can guess what’s running through his mind right now, and you fight the twitch of your lips at the mere thought.

“I thought you worked as a server.”

“I– I do?” he’s tilting his head in confusion, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly, “I have two jobs.”

“Three,” you quip, drumming your nails against the counter rhythmically, “you tutor.”

“I… guess…?” Beomgyu says, fighting back the urge to correct you that he really doesn’t— you’re the only one he’s ever tutored before.

“Why would you need to work three jobs? How do you get the time for this?” you don’t really know why you’re pestering Beomgyu about this so much— but you’re also fascinated by it, now beginning to understand where Beomgyu’s lack of social life stems from. 

He’s unsure of how to answer your question again; you don’t seem to be particularly patient today, (but then again, when are you?) so you’re waving him off with a dismissive swat of your hand, shaking your head and clicking your tongue before you’re changing the subject; Beomgyu is left to watch as you pull your phone out, scrolling on it for a bit before you’re placing it on the counter and spinning it around for him to see— his eyes are narrowing in concentration as he takes in the picture.

“This purse,” you say slowly, tapping your nail on your phone screen, as though Beomgyu wasn’t currently looking at it, “do you have it in stock? This guy already got one, but I need to know if you have others— I’ve got to have it.” 

The urgency in your voice is a bit surprising to Beomgyu— he takes in your expression, solemn and a bit scary, and gulps— then he watches the way you melt in relief the moment he nods hesitantly. 

“I’m sure we just got a shipment in today— we, haven’t really, uhm, stocked up properly yet,” he stutters, wincing slightly at the sound while you remain unfazed; your brows lift expectantly, and he’s snapping out his daze and sending you a shaky smile, “I’ll go check.” 

He scurries out of your sight and into the employee door quicker than you can process— and when he turns around to take a peek at the small window, he finds you leaning on the counter and on your phone— probably texting, judging by the way your thumbs fly by on the screen— and he feels another heat of shame wash over him, his head spinning and his legs turning into jello. 

How can you act so casually? He wonders, glasses slipping down just a bit farther down his nose, nimble fingers pushing it back up with ease, like you weren’t just in his bedroom a few hours prior… like he wasn’t under you… 

Beomgyu practically jumps the moment your eyes flicker up and meet his; you simply smile, glossed lips stretching slowly before you give him a wink. 

In response, he spins around and begins to actually look— his heart hammers in his chest.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

So pretty. 

So perfect and smooth to the touch, cool under your fingertips— you take your time to feel, to trace over every detail, intricate and crafted by the gods as you let out a shaky sigh— your eyes meet Beomgyu’s, and you have half the mind to feel a bit sheepish, retracting your hand quickly and returning to a socially acceptable state of mind. 

“Sorry,” you say, beaming at him before you’re reaching into your current bag and handing him your card; his eyes widen comically at the smooth black plastic you place in his hold carelessly, “It’s just… all I could ever ask for. I can’t believe I finally have my hands on this…” 

Meanwhile, Beomgyu rings up your inexplicably expensive item, swiping your card and watching the way you don’t even flinch at the sum that shows up; he feels a bit jealous at your nonchalance. 

You’re carrying the purse like it were a baby; it isn’t until Beomgyu offers to bag it for you that you finally let it go, placing it gently on the counter and smiling fondly as you watch Beomgyu place it carefully in the equally luxurious gift bag, placing filler paper on top and handing it back to you, his movement practiced and calculated as he says his usual lines— his mind is running on autopilot once more, but you’re particularly eager to break him out of it as you reach out to take the bag from him, warm hand wrapping around his and tugging him slightly towards you. 

“Thank you for all your help today,” you purr, shining lips stretching into a coy smile, leaning against the counter and watching as he gulps, adam's apple bobbing, “I think I’ll do well on our upcoming quiz— you’re such a good tutor.”

You don’t bother to stick around after that; your steps are brisk and you’re hugging the purchase close to your body, as though someone were after it and ready to take it, confidence in your step as you exit the store— Beomgyu, on the other hand, practically crumbles the moment you’re out of sight, fingers turning white from how hard he grips onto the edge of the counter; his heart pounds and the sound of blood rushing fills his ears, mind inevitably going back to your teasing action before he’s flustering again. 

You’re laughing to yourself the whole ride home— his reaction plays on your mind like a loop, beyond amused by the sight as you pat yourself on the back for being able to come up with something so clever on the spot. 

What you don’t realize, however, is that there are consequences to your actions— consequences that are far beyond your control.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

“Are you for real?”

“Uh-huh,” you grin, placing a fond hand on your cheek and batting your eyes at Yunjin, “totally aced it.” 

“That’s something I never thought I’d hear from you,” your friend says, poking her fork at her salad before taking a bite; she furrows her brows as she takes in your expression, mouth agape and eyes wide, as though you were offended. “What? It’s true.”

“Okay, first off— I’m not stupid, just lazy,” you clarify, pointing an accusing finger at your friend as you pout, “and second of all, you should really believe in your friend a little more.”

“I mean, it was a little hard to when all you would do was skip classes and go shopping instead,” Yunjin says, raising a challenging brow when you open your mouth to refute her claims— then proceed to promptly close it again, finding that you really can’t deny that— and a small smile tugs at her lips, the kind that lets you know that she’s about to say something really annoying, “but I guess your study sessions with your little boy toy really did work.” 

“Boy—?!” you’re in the middle of taking a sip from your iced coffee when she says that, the straw slipping from your mouth and a bit of the liquid escaping from the sheer surprise of her comment— you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling a slight heat rush to your face as you stare at her incredulously, “boy toy?” 

“I mean, am I wrong?” Yunjin challenges, tilting her head in curiosity while you simply try to deny her claims, “you were literally just telling me about the way you had him wrapped around your finger a while ago—”

“Not like that though!” you huff, feeling worked up from the mere idea of Yunjin finding out the complete and utterly stupid slip up you had a while ago, “god, he’s literally such a fucking loser, don’t try to pair me up with him— other people might get the wrong idea. It’s already bad enough that I had to get a tutor, because it’s not like I was doing bad in my classes until recently. I mean, it’s still my fault and I did let myself go, but I didn’t think I’d have to stoop so low! And now I have to take so much time out of my day to spend my time studying with him and even worse, you’re trying to insinuate something that definitely isn’t true—!”

“Yes! Okay! Enough of that please!” Yunjin says exasperatedly, glancing over your shoulder briefly before she’s taking another bite of her salad, muttering something about you having a motor mouth, “god, it’s just that… people have seen you two together a lot, you know? And with the way he’s looking over at you right now, anyone would think that he’s like… in love with you, or something.” 

You’re sitting up straight and whirling around at that; following Yunjin’s previous line of sight, you’re able to pinpoint the said boy immediately— sitting a few tables away, catching him staring at you over his laptop, clearly distracted from his work— the moment your eyes meet, he flinches, hunching down so the screen hides him; it doesn’t work very well, and you’re able to see his downcast eyes and reddening face with ease. 

Oh my god, you think with horror, a cold wave washing over you as you stare at him longer— and after a few seconds, he’s peeking back up from his screen, meeting your eyes once more and scrambling to hide unsuccessfully yet again. You decide to turn back around before anyone else around you catches on to this interaction. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, meeting Yunjin’s gaze as she simply nods at you, her face screaming I told you so, “how long has he been there?” 

“Like… basically this whole time,” Yunjin says casually, not fazed in the slightest by your horrified expression, “been staring at you for a while too.”

“Ugh, gross,” you groan, throwing your head back in defeat and staring up at the ceiling with a frown, “I think I might’ve gotten his hopes up too much.”

“C’mon, go easy on him,” Yunjin teases— your head is straightening up to look at her again, but a single glance is enough to tell you she merely finds this situation amusing, “it’s probably his first time properly interacting with a woman.”

“That’s even worse,” you mourn, slumping down and placing your head in your hands; a sudden reminder of your schedule is popping back into your head, and your peeking through your fingers in dismay as you relay the information to your friend, “and I have a study session with him today too.” 

“Aww!” she coos, clearly having a blast as she grins, glancing behind you and undoubtedly at Beomgyu once more, “I’m sure he just can’t wait to see you again.”

“God, please shut up,” you whine petulantly, but your friend brushes off your pleas with a mischievous smile, “you’re making me wanna throw up.”

“What, you gonna cancel then?” 

Silence. Any other day, you would’ve immediately jumped to say yes, pulling out your phone to text him and bailing like it was nothing. But today, you find yourself oddly reluctant to say this three letter word, unsure of why the answer is difficult to voice before you finally give in to the truth— your head slumps with defeat and you’re too ashamed to look Yunjin in the eyes.

“No.”

“Oh wow,” you hear her say, still blatantly teasing you as she laughs giddily— you don’t bother to react at this point, choosing to ignore the unspoken question of why you’re not ditching him this time.

“Hope you have fun,” she muses, taking one last glance behind you before she’s giggling to herself, “try to go easy on him, m’kay?”

Fuck, this was so embarrassing. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Today, you’ve changed up your meeting spot quite a bit; Beomgyu was thoroughly surprised when you asked him to study later on in the day, in a more secluded area on the upper levels of the library, telling him to pick a table and wait for you to get there after— usually, you tried to make your meetups as convenient for you as possible, choosing places that you could easily flee from. 

When you finally come into his line of sight, Beomgyu frowns. You carry your bag with you, along with a troubled expression and tense posture, glancing around you continuously even if there was no one around, even if the table was hidden behind bookshelves— as though you were afraid of getting caught for something. 

You’re dumping your things onto the table unceremoniously— and instead of taking your spot across from Beomgyu like always, you’re sitting next to him, catching him off guard and missing the way he tenses at the action— you’re scooting your chair closer to him and filling his senses with your scent, making him gulp thickly as he tries to not let his mind wander off; he realizes with dread that it’s really not working. 

Beomgyu is a stuttering mess today; you pick up on it with ease, frowning at the way he continues to blunder through his explanations and having to repeat things to you multiple times, hands shakier than usual as he points out certain things in the text before he’s relating it back to the assignment. 

“That— that’s one of the things the… the uhm, the professor said would be important to remember,” Beomgyu stutters, feeling his body heat up at the way you raise your brows at the sound of his cracking and meek voice. With one glimpse at your (clearly) judgemental and demeaning expression that you didn’t even bother to hide, Beomgyu is scrambling to get his act together. 

It works, for a while; the two of you are left in silence as you work on the homework your professor assigned to you, and you remain unfazed at the feeling of Beomgyu catching glimpses at you from time to time; whether that be to look at what you had written down or simply to look at you, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. 

You’re snapped out of zone of concentration at the sound of rustling; a peek from your peripheral vision allows you to watch as Beomgyu has now begun to dig through his bag, wondering what he could be up to; with a roll of your eyes, you’re focusing back to the question you were working on, not bothering to glance back again even once the rustling has ceased. 

Without warning, something is placed gingerly on the open surface of your textbook; you’re blinking in surprise before you’re registering what it is that has been put before you, brows knitting together as you wonder how you should react.

It’s a… mini paper flower bouquet. 

You’re staring at the item for a solid few seconds before you slowly turn to look at the culprit. Beomgyu meets your intense gaze the best he can, putting up a confident front and fighting back the heat that threatens to engulf his face. 

“Y–You— I heard you did well on your test.” He says, glasses slipping down his nose and bangs falling into his eyes, gaze flickering away for a split second before he wills himself to look at you again. Your stare is dead and unreadable.

“I never told you that.” 

Beomgyu is losing this battle, his confidence visibly wilting away as his cheeks begin to get dusted with pink. His eyes are wide like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to respond as you give him a look that is expecting an explanation— his cheeks are now a bright red. 

Even without his explanation, you both know how he got a hold of this news— and you’re thinking back to Yunjin’s teasing, the fear of being seen with him during today’s study session, and the flustered boy in front of you— and your mouth is running faster than you can stop it.

“Choi Beomgyu, do you like me?” 

If the floor around you was already quiet before, it’s dead silent now; you’re even able to pick up on the stuttered breath Beomgyu lets out, his eyes growing comically wide as he simply stares at you; almost as though he couldn’t believe what you just asked of him. 

“Actually, don’t even answer that,” you wave him off, choosing to ignore the way this seems to spring him into action, stuttering and failing to put together a proper sentence to tell you that no, he definitely doesn’t— you just caught him off guard! 

But it’s not like you would believe him anyway, with the way he remains flustered long after you asked the question, unable to even look your way for the rest of the session, staring straight at the textbook and nowhere else whenever you would ask him a question— after a while, you begin to tire of his behavior. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” you call out again, soft and dangerous as you turn to face him— he was attempting to explain a question to you, words dying on his tongue as he took in your sudden proximity— leaning in toward him, you tilt your head as you observe his reaction, watching the way his lips press together and his adam's apple bobs as he gulps softly; his puppy-like eyes shine as he waits for you to say something.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, your voice beginning to dip into that coy lilt that you’ve used on him only one other time— and that’s enough to have Beomgyu’s mind spinning, the poor boy thinking thoughts that he’s tried to suppress this whole time— your affect on him is beginning to show once more. 

“You look a little…” your eyes flicker down beneath the table, a smile tugging at your lips before you’re looking back into the boy's eyes; catching where you were looking, Beomgyu can’t help but tug his sweater over his lap in embarrassment. 

You’re leaning even closer now— your breath is fanning against the shell of his ear, the boy’s face practically on fire as his hands remain clenched and tense on his lap— he’s practically a statue due to your proximity. 

“Distracted.” 

Your hands are mischievous; curious, setting your pencil down carefully before they begin to wander, sliding across the table before it falls off the edge, nails scratching at the wool material of Beomgyu’s sweater before it lands on top of his hand that covers his lap— you grin at the choked breath of surprise he lets out from the simple touch. 

“What— what, what are y–you—?” Beomgyu is about to bite through his lip at this rate, eyes wide and panicked as he watches your hand push his away, taking in the bulge in his pants as a flush of shame rises up his neck; you’ve caught him, but you don’t seem to be fazed in the slightest as you’re cupping him gently, looking up at him with doe eyes and lashes that flutter innocently— he thinks his heart might just explode from how quickly it’s pounding. 

“Wait, wait wait— we’re in— other people might—” he’s tripping over his words, saying so much yet nothing at all, but the way his eyes skirt over the perimeter is enough to tell you what he’s thinking— yet all you see are bookshelves that surround and hide you well— beneath the warmth of your hand that has yet to move, you can feel Beomgyu hardening within seconds. 

“It’s late. There’s no one else here right now,” you say sweetly, too sweet, a bit patronizing as you lean in close and coo the words directly into his ear— you’re brushing back his long hair with a gentle hand, tucking it behind his ears that he always seems to hide; they’re a pitiful bright red and decorated with silver piercings, absentmindedly caressing along his jaw with the back of your hand; his eyes flutter shut at the tender action, along with the feeling of your hand finally beginning to rock against his cock gently— and he melts into the chair, like putty in your hands as you watch his shoulders slump and cave into himself, his head hang at the stimulation; you’ve barely done anything, yet he’s already a mess— the sight surprises you.

“Go ahead,” you continue softly, hand cupping his jaw and cradling it carefully, attempting to get him to look at you again— and he follows your commands effortlessly, pretty eyes fluttering open and his head turning at the gentle push of your hand— and he’s looking at you with glassy, wide eyes, cheeks flushed pink and mouth parted as his eyes begin to flutter shut again— and your thumb is rubbing soothing circles along his cheekbone teasingly, leaning in slightly to whisper again, close enough that he can feel your breath fanning against the tip of his nose, “Puppy, look at me.”

He follows your command in a heartbeat; he’s met with another of your sickeningly sweet smiles, deceiving and comforting all at the same time. 

“Go ahead now puppy,” you murmur, any movements of your hand ceasing entirely as you watch him with eager eyes, watching the way he seems to sober up at the loss of your touch, “take my hand off— c’mon, take it off if you really want to.”

A moment passes— he really should be taking your hand off, shouldn’t he? But his mind is clouded now and you look so pretty under the warm library lights, pristine and perfect as always, glossy lips and lidded eyes encouraging him with a deceivingly fond look— but Beomgyu loves it, and he loves the way you laugh mockingly at him, unable to control the way he whines petulantly and shakes his head, giving you your answer by thrusting his aching cock into your hand desperately.

“Good boy,” you utter absentmindedly, a compliment that makes Beomgyu’s hips stutter as you finally begin to inch up his bulge, careful fingers making quick work to undo his pants— and with one last glance at the deserted area around you, you’re slipping your hand inside and past the tight waistband of his boxers. 

“Haah—!” Beomgyu is slapping a hand over his mouth and beating you to it, eyes wide and face even more flushed than before as he stares down at the way your hand disappears beneath the material of his boxers, expertly wrapping around his length and slowly beginning to jerk him off underneath the table. 

You don’t seem to be worked up by any of this at all; your eyes are lidded with a slight boredom, a tiredness he’s seen at every one of your study sessions, watching the way you turn back to your homework and begin reading the instructions, hand still working expertly at his length as you do; Beomgyu has to press another hand firmly against his mouth the moment your thumb is swiping over his tip, collecting the constant arousal that collects there and using it as lube— you don’t even bat an eye at him during all this. 

After a few minutes, you’re able to hear the slick sounds of your hand working against his cock effortlessly; the poor boy is aroused and leaking beyond belief, now sporting a wet patch against his pants that you seem to be dead-set on worsening— your pace is picking up and you don’t bother to glance at Beomgyu to check up on him, though you also don’t bother to hide the way your lips quirk in amusement at the sight of him trying (and failing) to keep his composure. 

“M–mmh, agh— close, s’close…” Beomgyu stutters out pathetically, bucking his hips up messily and turning back into that desperate and rambly mess from the first time you sucked him off; his voice is deep and breathy as he whispers out these pleas to you, begs to not stop, to go faster, to—

“Beomgyu,” you whisper coyly, using this chance to finally put your plan into action, “Beomgyu baby, d’you wanna cum? Hmm? Want me to make you feel good?”

He’s nodding thoughtlessly; of course he’s nodding, his mind has gone blank and there’s nothing else in there that seems to make sense except for the way your warm hand wraps around his cock so perfectly, unable to stop the choked whines he lets out every time he feels you squeeze him teasingly. 

“Then you gotta do something for me, okay pup?”  you coo out, making sure to use the nickname you know he loves so much— he lets out a choked whimper at the sound, brows knit tightly together and hair falling in front of his face with the way he hangs his head— and you’re leaning in close to him again, breath fanning on his skin and your palm slapping his cheek softly, tapping at it to get his attention; it works like a charm, and his glassy eyes are meeting yours once more. “Puppy, are you listening?”

“I’m—” his words get cut off by a weak whine, feeling your hand tighten teasingly around him, “I’m listening— I’m listening.” 

“Good,” you coo out, feeling the way his hips buck and he starts becoming restless, “now if you wanna cum, you gotta promise me something, okay?” 

Anything, anything for you, he breathes out absentmindedly, and you’re sure he has no idea what he’s even agreeing to at this point. 

“Don’t act like you know me when we’re in public,” you say sweetly, muddling his mind by increasing your pace, by doing exactly what you’ve noted makes him squirm and cry the most, “I don’t know you, you don’t know me— we’re strangers.” 

You notice the way his face is twisting up in confusion; his mouth is parting and he’s fighting to say something, to ask why— but you’re not giving him a chance to, brushing his hair back and cupping his face, turning him to look at you and digging your nails into his cheeks to get him to meet your eyes; through the intense pleasure you give him, you can still see the hurt that swims within. You let out a soft coo at the pathetic sight.

“Come on, promise me, okay?” you pout, “you’re a good boy, right? You’ll keep your promise?” 

His hips are stuttering and fucking into your fist again; you’ve got him pinned down precisely. Any coherent thought is fading out of Beomgyu’s mind and the only thing he’s concerned himself with is his impending orgasm, the feeling of pleasure that is only heightened with every string of praise you say to him. 

“Be a good little puppy and say you’ll promise me,” you say, thumb swiping over his bottom lip before you’re pulling at it, dark eyes observing the way he melts before your touch and finally gives in— he’s nodding, you’ve got him right where you want him, and all you needed was a little bit of mindless praise. “c’mon, say it, say it and you can cum.”

“I promise,” he breathes out, whiny and high pitched and strained, as though speaking was a challenge for him, “I’ll do anything, please— pleasepleaseplease, let me cum, I’ll— I promise.”

“There we go baby,” you hum in approval, pressing a peck to his pouting lips and taking in the way his waterline is filled with tears that hang precariously, “such a good boy— my good boy.”

His hips stutter, rising off the seat, and you’re feeling warm spurts of cum land on your skin. His mouth is falling open and you’re sure he might just let out a loud noise, so before you can think twice, you’re pulling his face close to you and smashing your lips against his; he whines weakly into mouth, and you’re swallowing it greedily, kissing him languidly and guiding him through his high with praise that makes his breath stutter and his knees weak. 

You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and good.

It takes a while before Beomgyu is finally coming to his senses. He’s panting softly against your mouth, lips swollen and bitten at, his cock sensitive as the feeling of you continuing to pump him slowly suddenly becomes too much; with a shaky hand, he presses against your shoulder and attempts to signal you to stop. You’re pulling away immediately. 

Beomgyu looks, for lack of a better term, absolutely destroyed. His face is flushed and his eyes are droopy with exhaustion, hair mussed and messy and his clothes in complete disarray; you look down, and you’re wincing in half amusement and half pity at the sight of the wet spot against Beomgyu’s jeans. He’s following your gaze, and if he could turn any redder, you’re sure he definitely would’ve; his ears burn. 

Your hand is messy; his cum is still coated on your skin, sticky and incriminating as it sticks to your fingers and pools in between, a grimace twisting your face into a look of dismay as you stare down at the mess— before you can even think of what to do about it, Beomgyu is handing you a tissue. 

His hand is shaky as he extends it out to you; your gaze is snapping up to meet his, only you’ve found that he can’t look at you at all— it seems as though the fog in his mind has already subsided and he’s realized what you’ve asked of him, lips pressed together and face still flushed as you finally take it from him. He turns away from you immediately, pulling his sweater over his lap and staring down at the disarray of textbooks and notebooks before him. 

The silence is suddenly unbearable. You feel awkward as you wipe at your skin, even more so when you’re stuck with nothing but a soiled tissue and a hand that’s still undeniably dirty, the tension between you two now growing tenfold by the second as you finally decide that you should probably just go— it’s not like he’d be surprised by it anyway. 

You’re opening your mouth to excuse yourself— to ignore the elephant in the room, to simply run away with a coy smile like you always do— but Beomgyu is beating you to the punch, and you can’t even hide the startled flinch your body does as he stands and begins to pack up hastily, shoving his materials into his book bag without a second glance to see if everything is perfectly aligned and neat.

You can only sit there and watch; it’s clear that your words seem to have gotten to him, and though you were expecting the awkwardness that would stem from it, you didn’t expect Beomgyu to be upset; your mind races to find reasons why, to try and wrap your head around why he would be feeling this way. 

“I asked the professor how you were doing in the class, since you never seem to want to tell me,” Beomgyu finally says, breaking the tension and adjusting the materials in his bag to be just the way he likes it; he zips his bag shut in one aggressive swoop, and you can’t help the surprise on your face when he sends you a harsh glare. 

“He says you’ve been improving greatly; said you were a good student from the very start, that you only needed to catch up on the materials.” he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder, pushing the chair in and taking a step back from your dumbfounded figure, “so it looks to me that you achieved your goal with our sessions.”

A moment passes— and your eyes widen slightly, catching on to what he’s trying to tell you, finding that you really want to deny the professor’s claims, even if they are true. But your pride impedes you from uttering a single word, knowing that it would kill you to try and coax Beomgyu to stay with you, to keep these study sessions going— and through this sudden urge, you catch yourself wondering why you would even want this to continue.

“I’m glad my help seemed to work— but it seems that you don’t even need it anymore,” Beomgyu finalizes what he needed to say, and you can see the way his shoulders practically sag from the relief of getting his thoughts across; his hand goes to tug his oversized sweater down, completely covering his lap and the mess you left— he grimaces softly. 

“What? So that’s it?” is all you can say, watching his face harden at your words, “Just like that? What about me?”

His face twists up in anger— your words have struck a nerve, and suddenly, he’s remembering why no one wanted to tutor you in the first place. 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” is all he says, taking another step back and increasing the distance between you two, “anyone would be willing to tutor you with the rate you like to offer.”

You both know what he really wants to say— just use your money on someone else to get what you want, like you always do. You find that you can’t really say anything to that. You remain silent.

Beomgyu turns around, and leaves; he doesn’t bother to say goodbye, and you’re left to watch his retreating figure, the hastiness of his pace and the way he continuously tugs his oversized sweater down over and over, even if it doesn’t move an inch. 

That’s it, you tell yourself, leaning back against your chair, staring down at the display before you, at the notes you were actually taking, the work you were finally doing, you finally got what you wanted. 

After a moment, the seat next to you is feeling a lot emptier than it did seconds ago; the room feels endless, as though you were left alone in this lonely labyrinth. Beomgyu’s words echo in your head, and you frown. 

Is this what you wanted?

 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu has kept his promise well; you haven’t seen him in weeks. 

Not around campus, not around the dining halls, not even in the library, a place you’ve found yourself actually attending regularly— not even in the only class you shared— and it seems as though he’s vanished off the face of the Earth. 

You’ve found yourself thinking about him more often than you’d like; wondering if he’s okay, if he’s off at one of his many jobs again, if he’s resting— it makes you shiver with disgust every time you catch yourself, grimacing at the idea that you would even find yourself worried about him— and while you tell yourself that you’ve finally gotten rid of one of your biggest burdens, you can still feel the nagging feeling to talk to him every time you see his contact in your phone.

“Did you finally get him off your trail?” Yunjin asks you one day, when you’re busy checking the due dates for this week’s assignments online, making a mental schedule of what to work on first as you leave your food untouched; her words are snapping you out of your trance, looking up at her with a gaze that screams I wasn’t listening, what? 

“Your little plaything— the loser guy?” she drawls, watching your face carefully, taking your small reaction as a sign that you’ve caught on, “did you finally shake him off?” 

“I— yeah, I did,” you say apathetically, letting out a soft tsk as you’re looking back at your laptop, “finally.”

“Wow, look at you,” Yunjin awes, seeing the way your brows furrowed in concentration and you have yet to eat, too immersed in your course load to roll your eyes at her clear, mocking tone, “looks like he really did a number on you— I didn’t know you used your laptop for anything other than shopping.”

“Yunjin, come on,” you sigh, jaw clenching as you suddenly don’t find yourself in the mood for her teasing, “I mean, I know I’ve been slacking really bad recently, but you know that’s not true.”

She doesn’t seem to take you seriously— then again, no one ever really does, a constant in your life that makes you jaw tick and your eyes mentally roll— and she laughs, shaking her head and pouting as though you were a thing to be pitied. You wonder how much of this is supposed to be friendly teasing. 

“Yeah sure,” she sighs, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand and leaning over to look at your screen, “Don’t work too hard though, it might hurt your brain.”

You ignore her comment; Yunjin doesn’t seem to care about your silence, doesn’t bother to gauge your reaction as she continues to poke at yet another of her salads, pushing the contents around with her fork in boredom as she speaks up again. 

“You know, hopefully he has the same effect on me.”

This gets your attention immediately. Yunjin is looking at you with surprised eyes that feign innocence, raising a confused brow at your narrowed eyes. 

“What do you mean by that,” you ask slowly, attempting to keep your tone indifferent as you speak.

Yunjin shrugs, as though what she was about to tell you next wasn’t of any importance— and it really shouldn’t be, but you still can’t ignore the way it makes your body feel like you’ve been shocked with a wave of electricity. 

“I mean, your little tutor seemed to be such a good influence so…” she stabs at her salad lazily, bringing up the fork to her lips before she’s sending you a small smile. “I thought I’d give him a try.” 

You bristle quite visibly at that; your mind is running a million miles an hour, wondering where this sudden idea is coming from, being friends with Yunjin for longer than you can remember as your mouth begins to run before you can stop it. 

“You said your parents have tried to set you up with multiple tutors— the best in the country,” you say, brows knitted together as Yunjin simply shrugs her shoulders, raising her brows as if to say and? “You said you’d rather die than to get tutored— you said it was a waste of time.”

“Yeah… but…” Yunjin shrugs again, and you wonder how much of this is just an impulse from her as she continues, “I don’t know, my parents are on my ass again about giving me a tutor, and I don’t wanna deal with all those stuck up pricks they send to me.”

She admits her true motives with her next words. 

“And I don’t know… he’s kinda cute?” she says, laughing like a schoolgirl who was embarrassed to admit a crush, “In like, a pathetic kinda way— and now that he’s done tutoring you, I’m sure he has a slot that opened up.”

Your mind is spiraling with things to say to her; you want to tell her to stay away from Beomgyu, to not try to mess with him— tell her that he’s a loser that isn’t worth her time, a nerd with an obsession with a lame game and the owner of a creepy bird— but you catch yourself, biting your tongue and taking in the way Yunjin simply looks at you expectantly; as though waiting for your embarrassing outburst, you realize.

With a scoff, you’re slamming your laptop shut— Yunjin flinches in surprise. 

“I’m sure one did— I’m leaving,” is all you say, knowing that nothing would change, even if you tried anything. Yunjin scrambles to try to get you to stay, but all attempts fall short— you tell her there’s an exam you need to study for, and she sighs in defeat. 

“You’re coming to the party this Saturday, at least?” she says, clearly annoyed at your sudden sensitivity, at your sudden change in attitude, “you promised you would.”

Your mind is attempting to remember what she could be talking about— then you’re finally remembering the event she spontaneously planned a few weeks back, telling you that she hasn’t seen everyone together in one place in so long— and while you found yourself agreeing excitedly back then, you don’t have much energy to do so now. But Yunjin is staring at you expectantly, raising a brow at your silence, and you find that there’s really not much of a choice for you. (There is, but you know there’d be consequences if you chose wrong.)

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Perfect!” she beams, eyes crinkling and her hands clasping together happily, as though there was no previous tension between you at all mere moments before, “I’ll see you then.” 

You merely nod, turning around and taking your food to the nearest trash can— you weren’t really hungry, anyway. 

You can feel Yunjin’s eyes pinpointed on you the whole way out. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’ve always loved parties. 

You loved to dress up, make yourself look pretty and catch the eyes of everyone with your pretty dresses and makeup done to perfection; loved the attention that came with it, the way you could let loose for once and not worry about your image, drinking and feeling your body become loose, mind finally being allowed to forget about any worries you had. 

You were known to be a social butterfly; the pretty airhead that couldn’t stop talking once you got her started— always the life of the party, never one to cling to the wall and stare at the dance floor wistfully. 

Standing before the beach house of Yunjin’s parents, one they didn’t use as much as they once did when Yunjin was only a little girl with an affinity to the sea, you begin to wonder where that part of you has gone. 

You feel dreadfully out of place. You haven’t even gone inside yet. 

Music is blasting and the windows are dark, save for the bright neon lights that come from an unknown source; Yunjin has always been a sucker for that club vibe, anyway. You want to go in, want to walk inside and pretend like it’s nothing, but this time, you can only stand at the bottom of the steps and tug your dress down a little more. You feel like a prude. 

Deep breaths, you tell yourself— one in, one out, your chest rising and falling slowly as you  try calm your racing pulse— and with a silent okay of reassurance to yourself, you will your body to begin its trek up the steps. 

The door is unlocked; it’s not like you needed to knock to get in, anyway— only those with an invite even knew this party was happening. The place isn’t packed— nor is it meant to be— but it’s a bit crowded at least, filled with familiar faces for the most part; all people you grew up with or around, sons and daughters of influential families that grew to be nothing but partiers and troublemakers. In other words, your usual crowd. 

There are some exceptions to these guests, however. People you’ve seen around campus, student athletes with a scholarship and business majors that have already found themselves internships to the companies others in the room are a part of— and it seems that no matter how much everyone here tries to pretend and deny, they can never really separate their personal lives from the responsibilities passed down to them at birth. 

Your first instinct is to beeline it to the kitchen; in other words, to the makeshift bar Yunjin always sets up, an impressive display of alcohol and even a hired bartender making drinks left and right— you immediately ask for two jello shots, something Yunjin always made for herself and in extension, you, not in the mood for anything stronger as you opt to get this nervous energy out of you instead; you proceed to get two more a second after, just out of habit.

You should find Yunjin; let her know you’re here, make sure she doesn’t try to scold and bitch at you for promising to go to her party only to end up ditching— you’re sure she’d never believe you unless she saw you with her own eyes. 

The kitchen is empty. The makeshift dance floor seems to be empty as well, spending a few minutes scouring the place and shrugging off any passing advances; with a heavy sigh, you decide that you should check upstairs, just in case, ready to make your way up before a rough hand is grabbing at your elbow and tugging you back; the smell of alcohol greets you before Yunjin can. 

“You actually came!” Yunjin yells over the music, her face flushed from the alcohol and her balance off as she stumbles slightly; you make a quick move to catch her, eyes drifting down before you’re catching sight of the uncomfortable heels she dons— meeting her gaze once more, she pouts. 

“I don’t even know why I wore these,” she groans, running a hand through her auburn hair, watching the way it falls back into place perfectly— she then proceeds to scan over your own outfit, letting out a sound of awe as she smiles, “you look great! Pretty as always.”

She’s muttering something else, but you can’t really hear it over the sound of the music; eventually, you find your eyes drifting away to the dancefloor, wondering if there’s anyone else you could recognize— your eyes lock with a particular, infamous athlete’s, one that you’ve been dying to get with since the beginning of the semester— and you’re suddenly thankful for the buzz the jello shots provided you, Yunjin eventually following your gaze and cheering at the realization of what you were planning. 

She’s pushing you forward before you can even think things through; the man with dark hair simply smiles at you, coy eyes beckoning you closer— and with a deep breath, you decide to let go of any worries you had and go back to being your airheaded, carefree self— even if just for a moment. 

“Hey,” he says simply, a hand going to rest on your waist; the music is much too loud for you to converse properly, but you don’t really seem to mind as you allow yourself to get lost in the rhythm instead— that, and because your tipsy brain has forgotten his name, and the low lights that obscure his face aren’t exactly helping either. 

But it seems as though he was thinking the exact thing; he’s leaning down to ask the exact question you were wondering into your ear, deep voice and pouty lips that brush against the shell of your ear making you shiver— you’re muttering your name into his ear, tilting your head toward him to allow him to do the same.

Yeonjun. Your head seems to clear for the moment. 

“Looks like we finally meet,” he grins, still close to your face in order for you to be able to hear him; your face twists up in confusion, and he laughs softly before continuing. “You’re just as pretty as I’ve been told— my friend talks a lot about you. You’re trouble, hmm?”

“Your friend?” is all you can say in response, placing a hand against his chest and leaning in closer, the music muddling his words slightly; his hand continues to hold you steady, and the two of you continue to sway to the rhythm. 

“Yeah,” he laughs, staring at your face that’s twisted up in obvious confusion, “My roommate, Beomgyu? I heard he tutored you for a bit.”

His name is enough to clear your head entirely, as though a bucket of ice water has been poured over your body and drenched your figure. 

“He— he told you about me?” you ask, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so pathetic, for feeling so curious as you stare at Yeonjun with undeniably hopeful eyes; instead, all you get is another amused laugh from him. 

“Are you kidding? You practically traumatized him!” he jokes, though you don’t find yourself laughing along to that, lips twitching and a frown threatening to take over your features, “You’d think he was scared of you from the way he talked about you.”

You don’t respond to that; you’re not sure how you would respond to that anyway, letting out a weak laugh and falling silent as you look over his shoulder and fall back into the beat of the song— but it seems as though Yeonjun is too drunk, and frankly, unaware to take in your reaction, because he’s leaning into your ear and murmuring words that strike the final blow into your heart.

“He’s here, actually— Yunjin and him really seem to be hitting it off. Didn’t think he had it in him”

You chose to bite your tongue, biting back a bitter comment about how he really doesn’t have it in him to woo someone like Yunjin. But Yeonjun is too amused by his own comment to pick up on the sudden sourness of your mood, mouthing the lyrics to whatever’s playing and guiding your hips with a hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he sends you a wink. But you’re too shaken by this sudden news that you no longer feel the need to play along, much less try to hook up with him tonight. Now that you think about it, the once superficially important goal of chasing after the athlete before you had been pushed down the list of your priorities long, long ago. 

“‘M gonna get a drink,” you mutter miserably, pushing against Yeonjun’s chest and ignoring the way he immediately begins to complain, untangling yourself from his grip as you leave with one final, half-hearted sorry!

Screw jello-shots, you think to yourself, stumbling back to the kitchen with sore feet, I need something stronger. 

Something stronger comes in the form of a mysterious drink you let the bartender make for you; you didn’t exactly keep track of the ingredients he listed off to you, simply nodding instead when he asked if that’s what you wanted— if you think it’s strong enough, you replied with a smile, choosing to ignore the hesitant nod he gave you in return. 

The speed at which you downed the drink was enough to have the bartender at your side with a water and a warning look— you ignored it, of course, drinking the water with a slight pout, only bothering to drink half before you were back to the dancefloor; maybe you could distract yourself with Yeonjun for a while, you think. 

But any plans to track down the said man come to a glaring halt the moment you’re stepping out the kitchen; your eyes widen, surprised expression mirroring Hueningkai’s as he stands before you— his eyes scan over your figure, running back up and stopping at your hazed eyes and flushed face, the slight sway in your movement helping everything click in his mind; you’re a few drinks away from getting utterly wasted, and it seems as though that’s the path you’re getting ready to take. 

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Hueningkai says, watching your face scrunch in confusion, taking a step forward to hear him better, “Thought you’d be too busy doing another study date to come.”

“Shut up,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and scoffing at the implications of his words, “And why do you care? I’m surprised you’re not fucking a random girl in Yunjin’s bathroom right now.”

“I tried,” Hueningkai rolls his eyes, smiling in that obnoxiously smug way as he watches you frown. He leans in, placing a hand on the doorway and above your head as he reaches out to grab your waist; tugging you close to him, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he mumbles quietly, “but she wasn’t anywhere as good as you.”

“You’re gross,” you glare, leaning back as you let your lips upturn in disgust, already knowing what he’s implying— asking of you— with a simple look at his face. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Are you still mad?” Hueningkai asks, beginning his chase even after you’ve successfully escaped his clutches, ignoring him with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms and make your way out to the living room, “you never even told me what was wrong, you just ran away and kept bitching at me.”

You huff; it doesn’t seem like Hueningkai will give up anytime soon, so you’re whirling around and sending him a pointed glare as you finally give him the closure he so desperately keeps asking for. 

“I did tell you what was wrong,” you start, clenching your jaw at the way he immediately opens his mouth to refute that, “you treat me like nothing more than a fuck buddy, acting as though we weren’t actually friends before that! All you do is make me feel worthless, then you have the audacity to turn around and play the victim?! Like seriously, Hueningkai, is this all you see me as? A body to fuck?”

Hueningkai began asking you to keep it down the moment you felt yourself get riled up; volume rising, face heating up, you ignored him, ignored the odd looks you got from others, deciding that since the man before you wanted to hear your thoughts so badly, you’d let it all out.

“We used to be friends. We grew up together!” you say, feeling ridiculous for continuing to grieve the past, the days where things weren’t so complicated and all you felt for Hueningkai was a harmless crush. “I can’t believe I let you use me like this, just because I thought I liked— god, I’m so stupid.”

You don’t give him a chance to retaliate; you’re turning around and ready to weave your way through the faceless people and go outside, only making it halfway before Hueningkai is grabbing at your elbow and asking you to wait. His persistence garners yet another roll of your eyes.

“You what? Hang on, what was that last part?” he asks, trailing behind you and desperately asking for an answer— because of course he would hone in on that part. You continue to ignore him, tugging your arm out his hold and beginning to push through the crowd at the dancefloor— seriously, how many people did Yunjin invite? You seem to have severely underestimated the capacity of this place.

“You— did you like me? Do you like me?” Hueningkai’s last attempts to get something, anything from you are childish and do nothing but make your stomach churn, “Come on, we can talk this out, be mature about it— I can fix things, I can make it up to, yeah? Hey, don’t bail on me now—”

“Enough!” you yell, getting yet another round of side glances and strange looks from others; listening in like always, pretending horribly to be ignorant to it all.

You’re right before the doorway; so close, yet you know that if you leave now, Hueningkai will continue to follow and pester you— so as horrible as the timing is, you realize with a heavy feeling that now is your chance to do what you’ve been debating on for so long. 

“Please, I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say, your words weak as you look right into his eyes— and everything surfaces into your mind once more, the innocent hope you once had of stealing his heart one day, “Let’s just end this— everything.”

The words feel familiar on your tongue, only this time, you realize that this is the person you should’ve directed this message to in the first place.

“We don’t know each other,” you say, jaw clenched at the way it takes Hueningkai a second to process things due to the music that tries to drown you out— you still catch onto the exact moment where it all registers in his head, eyes widening and mouth opening to protest— but you beat him to it, not giving him another opportunity to try and haphazardly fix thing, albeit momentarily. Your eyes meet his, and your heart wrenches upon seeing that he’s more annoyed than hurt. 

“Don’t talk to me— we’re strangers now.”

The final blow is like a weight that is immediately taken off your shoulders; you reach to open the door and slip out. This time, Hueningkai doesn’t follow. 

The air is cool on your face and a nice contrast to the stuffy air inside the house. Slowly, you make your way to the corner of the porch fence, stumbling over due to the soreness of your feet and the alcohol that still runs through your system. So many emotions course through you, seemingly wanting to bring about a wave of nostalgia and sadness, lingering feelings for the man you’ve just let behind— but you won’t allow yourself to cry over him, scoffing instead at the way you allowed yourself to foolishly bend over backwards for him for so long. 

“Wow,” you hear a voice say, not bothering to look back as you immediately recognize who it is; Yunjin joins you, leaning against the fence and craning her head forward to properly survey you— you don’t bother looking at her, even more so when she finally continues,“That was harsh back there.”

You sigh. Because of course Yunjin heard that, and of course she’s the one to bring it up immediately after. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually cut him off— I thought you’d always be like, head over heels, hopelessly in love with him— like a little girl, you know? You never seemed to grow out of him.” You glare at her, but continue to remain silent; she laughs, throwing her head back at the sight, only to wobble back slightly from the sudden motion.

“Oh come onnnnn, you know it’s true!” she coos, proceeding to poke at you teasingly and twist her voice to sound like you, “Huening called me pretty. Huening bought me the purse I really wanted. Huening wants me to go with him to dinner with his parents. Huening Huening Huening—!”

Her laugh is obnoxious, even after you’ve hissed at her to be quiet; she continues to mock you under her breath, drunkenly quoting things she overheard from your outburst, and you realize with a disappointed sigh that she definitely won’t be stopping soon. 

“Heyyy, don’t get all sensitive on me now!” she whines, grabbing your hand and tugging you back when you attempt to leave; it doesn’t work, and you merely tug yourself out her grip, not even bothering to respond to her cries to stay.

Yunjin pauses her dramatics the moment you’re turning and leaving, scoffing at the way she offhandedly apologizes, words slurring together as she says that she’s sorry if you feel offended! You’re shaking your head at that, making your way back to where the stairs are, glancing back at the home one last time— and you’re freezing for a second when you meet Beomgyu’s gaze, the boy wide eyed and awkward as he stands at the doorway. Behind you, Yunjin cheers drunkenly. 

“Beomie! Hey, could you tell her to stop being so dramatic? Like come on, I’m just trying to have fun,” Yunjin’s rambles are left unacknowledged by you both, and you finally find strength within you to walk away after a second; it’s not like you and Beomgyu had anything to talk about, anyway. 

Behind you, Yunjin calls for Beomgyu to go to her and give her attention; her pleas fade from your ears and you’ve finally made it onto the beach, pulling out your phone and fumbling through your contacts before you’re finally ordering an Uber to pick you up instead— it was too late in the night for you to bother your driver. 

The closest driver will be here in fifteen minutes; you’ll spend those fifteen minutes sitting before the ocean, clothes riddled with sand and body still sobering up slowly, your shoes placed to the side as you dip your legs into the water— fifteen minutes of silence, allowing you to ponder if these people are really the ones you’ve chosen to affiliate with for half your life. 

You’ve become so entranced with the white noise of the waves that you couldn’t pick up on the approaching footsteps of another; it isn’t until the said person is sitting at your side that you’re finally snapping out of your trance. 

Beomgyu settles down beside you without a word. You watch him for a second, taking in his appearance— he must’ve been dragged here, if anything, his attire not straying from the usual sweaters and jeans— and you look away, staring back out into the horizon as silence continues to drag down between the two of you. 

“You’re not sensitive,” Beomgyu suddenly says, his voice so quiet and hesitant you almost missed it, “Or dramatic.”

You laugh humorlessly. 

“I know.”

“You deserve to feel wanted,” Beomgyu adds, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, taking in your troubled expression and distant gaze, “...And, your friends are all assholes.”

“...I know.”

It’s quiet. You’re staring down at your feet, at the waves that slowly make their way up your shins before they retreat. Tonight made everything clearer than ever— why did you ever bother to associate with those people? Family and social status was the answer, but as you sit on the beach and away from the rowdy, ruthless crowd, you realize that you feel much more comfortable where you are. 

“No one ever takes me seriously,” you say suddenly, staring at the ground and tracing shapes into the sand, “I mean, I never really gave them reason to; it was all just fun and games at first— since I was a girl, I mean. Everyone thought that because I was so obsessed with superficial things that I just didn’t have anything going on in my head, and I guess that was enough to let me become a joke to everyone. A pretty airhead who just thinks about makeup and clothes and purses.”

“I mean, I worked hard to get to where I’m at, y’know? There’s more to me than just that. I won’t deny that my parents and their wealth helped get me a lot, and I certainly won’t deny that I seriously slacked this semester, but I— I don’t know, I just wish people wouldn’t take the shit I say and do like an absolute cosmic joke sometimes; that everyone I know and surrounded myself with wasn’t so superficial and fake.”

Your mouth just began running without you realizing it, forcing you to spill everything that’s been weighing on your mind; you don’t even bother stopping yourself, refusing to glance at the boy beside you as you continue. 

“And you wanna know what the worst part is? For a while, I started to believe what they thought of me, started to play into it if it meant them… liking me more. Ugh, that sounds so pathetic, seriously. I need to get it together.” You roll your eyes, tossing your head back as you scold yourself midway through your rambling, “I thought that if I acted all cute and stupid, if I just molded myself into what they liked, they… he would choose me. Would decide to keep me around for more than just a fuck. Would reciprocate years and years of pining and pretending to be cool with him fucking around with other people— all while he got all sulky if I even mentioned other guys.”

Silence. You go quiet for a moment, hand stilling for a moment, brows knitting together as you stare at the mess you’ve made in the sand; Beomgyu opens his mouth to say something, but is swiftly cut off by the sight of you sitting up straight abruptly. 

“But I’m worth more than that, y’know? I deserve to have someone take it slow with me, to like me for who I am, to really take me seriously. Even if I act ridiculous sometimes.” You sigh, your lips twitching in a soft smile as you finally look up from the mess in the sand and at Beomgyu; his eyes meet yours, doe-like and wide as always. You laugh at his expression, and his face heats up at the sight. 

“God, I’ve been really insufferable, huh?” you laugh, looking away from him the moment you felt your heart beating a bit faster, “I just never shut up, I’ve been told it’s really annoying— I didn’t mean to dump that all on you like that.”

“It’s alright,” Beomgyu says hastily, biting at his lip and averting your gaze as he continues, “I like listening to you talk.”

Your eyes widen and his words echo through your mind, bouncing off the walls and repeating the message over and over. I like listening to you talk. 

Your mind seems to have entirely blanked out at that; how do you even respond? All you know is that your body seems to heat up entirely after a second, shivers running through your spine as you attempt miserably to find something to say, something that’ll probably shatter the mood entirely— but you can’t, and you’re stuck in a silence that grows tense as minutes pass. 

The ding of a notification sounds from your phone; the two of you are looking down at the screen that lights up, and you immediately scramble to leave the moment you read that your car is here.

“I— I have to go,” you say lamely, wincing at your accidental stutter; you don’t give Beomgyu a chance to say anything more, wiping the sand off your clothes and giving him a half-hearted wave goodbye. “See ya.”

If anyone accused you of running away like a coward, you wouldn’t even bother to deny such claims— because it’s true, and you all but sprint away in order to get out of Beomgyu’s sight, eyes frantically sweeping over the street until you finally spot your Uber, sending a small wave and getting inside quickly. 

“Sorry about the mess,” you say sheepishly, glancing down at your shoes that tracked in remnants of sand; slowly, the car begins to move, and you’re staring out the window and watching Yunjin’s beach house pass by— in the very distance, your eyes catch onto Beomgyu, who remains sitting still by the shore. 

Your mind echoes his words to you, and you’re failing miserably to push down the way your stomach seems to be filled with a flurry of butterflies, the way your face heats up and a smile threatens to break through your face. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you’ve only felt something this intense one other instance, many years ago.

Fuck. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

It’s been a few weeks since Yunjin’s party; a few weeks since you stopped talking to her, a few weeks since you dropped all your snobby friends you only made for connections, a few weeks since you finally broke things off with Hueningkai. 

A few weeks since you realized that you might see Beomgyu as more than just a nerdy, pathetic loser. 

You’ve found that you have a lot more free time these days; now that you’re no longer worried about attending worthless cocktail parties or going golfing to help Yunjin impress a CEO’s son who she’s had her eye on for days, you’ve found that your life has become a lot more peaceful— or rather, boring. 

Your social life is nonexistent; what else did you expect, after cutting off practically everyone you knew? You’ve become a homebody, much more focused on your work and finding more mundane hobbies— your grades have never looked better. 

Avoiding Yunjin and anyone associated with her was simple; it was nothing, passing by her and pretending like you two never knew each other, like the two of you weren’t once attached by the hip. It never phased you to be in the same room as her, not even batting an eye when she found herself sitting a table away from you in the dining halls. 

You just wish you could say the same about Beomgyu. 

God, what the hell has gotten into you? You’ve become a fumbling, ridiculous mess, not even able to look him in the eye when you spot him in the halls, in the library, in cafes; your body heats up and words get stuck in your throat whenever he’s so much as close in proximity, always finding a way to flee as soon as possible— you don’t even bother being inconspicuous anymore. 

It was apparent to anyone who knew you that this behavior was a complete switch from your usual self— cocky, flirty, bold— and Beomgyu, who had to spend hours on end with you, knew that better than anyone. 

He’s able to spot your odd behavior immediately. Though unfortunately for him, he’s unable to come to a proper conclusion as to why you may be acting like that, and simply decides that you must be holding up your promise still; the promise to act like complete strangers, that is. 

Beomgyu frowns, staring at your back as you stand in line at the cafe across the campus library; you’re rigid, as though turning around and acknowledging the man behind you could kill you. Did you really hate him that much? He thought he made progress back at Yunjin’s party, your moment of vulnerability allowing him to see you in a completely new light— because after a moment of thought, after you fled the scene with an awkward wave and an empty smile, Beomgyu began to think; he really didn’t know anything about you. He didn’t even know your major.

All he knew about you were superficial things— and Beomgyu found himself oddly irritated by the thought, wondering if he was any better than the very people you were complaining about; it weighed his mind, finding himself prattling off to Yeonjun about it one day, laying on the couch and petting Toto absentmindedly as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“She’s an architecture major,” Yeonjun said from the kitchen, looking up from the stove and meeting Beomgyu’s surprised gaze, “Yunjin told me once that she’s been working to try and get an internship at her father’s company— starting from the bottom up and everything. Heard it’s super competitive over there.”

You were a lot more hardworking and studious than Beomgyu— or anyone, really— gave you credit for. And as he watched you recite your order to the cashier, something so convoluted that the boy wondered if it was even good, he found himself wanting to learn more about you. You stood off to the side, staring down at your phone with a concentrated pout, and he wondered if he should bite the bullet and finally attempt talking to you. 

Just as Beomgyu was mustering up the courage to say something, just as he was about to open his mouth, your name was called and you picked up your drink with a swiftness he’s never seen before, making your way out and passing Beomgyu in the blink of an eye. He’s left waiting for his drink long after, snapped out of his reverie by a text notification. 

Huh Yunjin:

im at the library rn r u coming ??

dont keep me waiting :(

Beomgyu sighs, and trudges his way to the library with a pout; the feeling is reminiscent, but he can’t help but find himself thinking that it was you he was studying with instead. He spots Yunjin’s bright head of orange hair instantly, eyes glued to her phone and brows knitted together in a soft frown— and though Beomgyu apologized for being late and asked her to start without him, she didn’t seem to bother to even get her materials out. 

Internally, Beomgyu finds himself rolling his eyes— But he’s masking that with a soft clear of his throat, his calm voice asking Yunjin to get her textbook out so they can start their session— and she finally looks up from her phone, bright eyes filled with confusion before she smiles sheepishly. 

“Oh right, the textbooks,” she murmurs, looking over at the seat next to her where she’s placed her bag, then across where Beomgyu sits; his eyes widen at the sight of her collecting her things, standing up and rounding the table before she sits next to him— before he can question what he’s doing, she scoots her chair closer to him, shoulders touching as she sends him an innocent smile. “I… forgot mine… you don’t mind if we share, right? You said you took this class last semester.”

Beomgyu can’t contain the way he lets out an exasperated breath; he pulls out his laptop, pulling up his digital copy as he mentally complains about how unprepared and demanding Yunjin always seemed to be— he can’t remember the last time she actually brought her own supplies; if anything, Beomgyu was sure she hadn’t even bought her required texts. 

And as he scrolls through the index in search of the needed chapter, he feels Yunjin leaning in closer; all under the guise of seeing the screen better, but Beomgyu knows better than to believe that her intentions are all innocent. And despite Beomgyu’s multiple attempts to scoot away from her, he quickly finds himself trapped by the girl again, frowning at the way she laughs at everything little thing he says and tugs at his sleeve when she’s confused about something. 

For a moment, Beomgyu wonders if she might actually be hitting on him— but he soon catches onto the way she peeks over his screen after each attempt to be touchy, how she glances in the same direction after every soft coo of that same nickname that makes him wince— and he follows the path of her gaze eventually, not entirely surprised at what he sees; if anything, it helps everything click together. 

Beomgyu spots you sitting two tables away, face twisted up in concentration and headphones obstructing your ears, head bobbing rhythmically as you scribble things on your notebook, glancing back at your laptop’s screen ever so often; he catches sight of numbers and equations, and he realizes that you must be working on math homework. 

Without realizing, he’s found himself staring at you; this side of you that he never saw much, private and calm and hardworking, the image you said you wished others saw in you— and, as though you could feel it, you’re looking up from your work, meeting Beomgyu’s eyes instantly and watching as he flusters and looks away; your eyes then fall onto the girl who has him backed into the corner of the table, who leans into him and glances over you with a slight quirk of her lips— she sends you a small wave, then turns back to Beomgyu, calling out his name softly. 

Undeniably curious, you lower the volume of your music slightly— you didn’t expect Yunjin to actually go through with her plans of getting Beomgyu to tutor her, and much less her lasting this long— you’re bringing up a hand to your head as subtly as you can, moving the right side of your headphone away from your ear slightly and allowing yourself to listen in to whatever it is they talk about. 

While Beomgyu attempts multiple times to tutor her and teach her materials, Yunjin can’t seem to stop steering away in a completely different direction; asking him entirely unrelated questions, blatantly flirting and acting coy as she pulls at his sweater everytime he seems hesitant to answer— the sight is slightly amusing, but you can’t deny the way it makes you wince with annoyance. 

“Today’s your day off, right?” Yunjin asks eventually, smiling widely when he nods, albeit hesitantly, “Great! You know how you said you’d take me to dinner if I got a good score on my test?” 

You hear the sound of Yunjin’s nails clicking against a screen; undoubtedly searching for something, the soft mutters of Beomgyu’s you were the one who struck up the deal, making you bite your tongue in a desperate attempt to remain inconspicuous; from the corner of your eye, you’re able to catch the way the said boy glances over at you. 

“Well… ta-da!” Yunjin squeals happily as she shoves the phone into Beomgyu’s face, allowing him to see her results for the said test. Beomgyu hums absentmindedly at the sight. 

“Your place at seven?” Yunjin grins, poking his shoulder teasingly; Beomgyu doesn’t answer, but she chooses to take that silence as a yes. “Great! I have to go actually; promised my girls I’d have brunch with them— you understand, right?” 

Instead of fumbling with his words and asking her to not leave so abruptly, Beomgyu simply nods and hums a soft uh-huh. The sight is enough to have Yunjin scoffing, slinging her purse on her shoulder and reaching over to grab Beomgyu’s chin— she tugs it and makes him face her, the action so sudden that his eyes widen drastically— and she smiles, squishing his cheeks teasingly and pouting at his distant behavior. 

“Don’t get all pouty with me— I’ll see you soon ‘kay?” before Beomgyu can even process anything, Yunjin leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling her lipstick transfer onto his skin— he’s slightly dazed, reaching up immediately to place a hand over the spot, staring at Yunjin with furrowed brows; she simply laughs and waves at him one final time, practically skipping out from how giddy she seemed.

From a distance, you watch Beomgyu quietly reach for his bag, his expression blank as he pulls out a tissue and his phone; you watch him use his front camera as a mirror, wiping at the lipstick with a soft frown. 

From a distance, you laugh to yourself— the distaste that appears on his face is obvious to you, and you can’t help but shake your head at Yunjin’s ridiculous behavior; god, was that what you looked like whenever you would bail on him mid-session? The very thought was terribly humbling to you. 

Yunjin’s attempts to get back at you by using Beomgyu were more than obvious; you think back to her actions, the way she blatantly flirted with him, the plans she suddenly tacked on him— on his day off, not to mention— and you roll your eyes, deciding that you might as well put an end to all these dramatics; not just for your sake, but for Beomgyu’s as well. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu is groaning to himself the moment he hears a sharp knock on his door— the last thing he wanted to do on his day off was spend his time entertaining a girl who was clearly using him for some odd, petty reasons— but he got ready nonetheless, texted Yunjin his address hours prior after being told that her driver would come pick him up, (he hadn’t gotten a response in relation to that message, but she’ll probably see it soon) and waited patiently on the couch, albeit much earlier than the proposed plans. 

Another sharp knock— Beomgyu wishes he had some proper excuse for her, told her that he already had plans with his roommate, but the said man was off on his shift already— he trudges over to the door, twisting the doorknob with a heavy reluctance, and sighs. He braces himself as he swings open the door to greet Yunjin with a halfhearted smile. 

“Hey,” you pant instead, leaning against the doorway and ignoring his confused— and shocked— expression, “I— am I late? I thought I was early, did you get ready early?” 

You gulp; since when could Beomgyu clean up so nicely? He’s forgone his usual, comfortable and casual outfits in favor of a perfectly pressed button up and a clean hairstyle— Yunjin must’ve planned to take him to quite the expensive place, you think to yourself. 

“Of course you’d be the type to get ready an hour early,” you mutter bitterly to yourself, the comment enough to have the said man glancing at the nearest clock in confusion— and just like you said, a bright six o’clock greeted him on the digital clock. 

“You— what’re you doing here?” Beomgyu stutters pathetically, unable to do much but relent to the way you step inside, closing the door behind him and turning around to face you, “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Yeah well, I lied.” you simply say, the words confusing the poor man even more, “I came to tell you to cancel your plans with Yunjin.” 

“Can— huh?” he searches your expression for the traces of a joke, but finds that you’re dead serious. “Why would I cancel? That’s rude.”

“Jesus, can’t you see?!” You say exasperatedly, reaching out to place your hands on Beomgyu’s shoulders, fingers digging in so he can look at you— it’s only when he finally does that you continue. “She doesn’t want to do this— she’s using you. She’s doing this to get back at me.”

“But why would she…” Beomgyu utters, and you wonder with a roll of your eyes where that boy genius of yours went. 

“Beomgyu,” you start, the sound foreign to the said boys ears as he blinks at you owlishly. You bite at your lip, brows furrowing at you think over what to say— you start again, but your words are hesitant and muddled. “She’s using you because she’s petty and because… because…” 

He gives you a look encouraging you to continue.

“Because— god, are you really gonna make me say this?!” you break, letting go of his shoulders and taking a step back— your face feels like it’s on fire and your stomach feels like it’s been twisted into knots, your hands clammy as you glance over at Beomgyu again— and he looks at you with the most stupid, oblivious expression known to mankind. 

You take a quick, deep breath, and you start again. 

“Choi Beomgyu. She’s using you because I…” you say sternly, reaching over suddenly to grab his face, cupping his cheeks and taking in the way he becomes red at your touch. You bring him close to you, pressing your lips in a fine line and hesitating before you observe his face— and god, he looks so pathetic and lost that you don’t even seem to mind the way the next words tumble out of you, fluid and clear and true. 

“Because I like you.”

Silence. You’re waiting anxiously in response, looking into Beomgyu’s eyes in anticipation, but all he does is stare. He stares and stares and stares, and for the first time in a while, you’re unsure of what to make of this reaction. 

“And I’m not lying either.”

Still nothing. His skin is warming up under your fingertips, and his mouth opens hesitantly to say something, only to close again— he must still doubt you, so you decide to take a leap of faith and reassure him the only way you know how.

“I think you’re cute and kinda pathetic in an endearing way, I think that those glasses really compliment your face and make your eyes look super doll-like, and I don’t really mind Toto. I think he’s still a bit weird to look at but I love that you love him, and it makes total sense to me that out of all the pets you could’ve had you decided to get a big freaky green bird of all things, and I think it’s super cute that you’re attached to him— I think you look kinda hot when you get frustrated on a problem, and I think it’s really hard to hold myself back from kissing you when you start stuttering at me like an idiot— also, it’s really not that bad that you play League of Legends, and I can’t believe I’m gonna admit this, but I started playing it myself and it’s not that bad— but that’s not the point, what I’m saying is that you’re— you’re a nerd and a loser but I don’t mind because I really— fuck, I really like—”

His lips are mashing onto yours before you can process his sudden movement, rough and sloppy and desperate that all you can do is slide your hands into his hair and pull him closer; his hands wrap around you in response, one on the small of your back and the other against the back of your head as he pulls you closer still, close until your bodies are pressed flush together. 

The two of you are so rough with your movements that he’s stumbling back, knocking against the wall and groaning softly at the impact; you’re sneaking your tongue into his parted lips, listening to the way he pants and moans against your mouth, slotting a leg between his and feeling as his thigh is quick to retaliate and press against your core. 

“Mghh– ugh, fuck,” you moan mindlessly, feeling his hand press against the small of your back, forcing you to arch and push your weight onto his strong muscle, allowing yourself to rock against it desperately; your mind is running a million miles an hour, pulling away from his lips breathlessly and staring at the gloss that has transferred onto him; his eyes look dazed, lips parted and in need for more as he tries to lead your head back to his. 

“Can’t believe she tried to use you against me,” you mutter, going back in to press quick, chaste kisses all along his face; he curls in shyly at the gesture, weakly grasping at your clothes as he feels the way you begin to trail them along his jaw, sucking and biting until you’re seeing the beginnings of marks that will bloom there, “shame it didn’t work— cause you’re all mine, right gyu?”

Like clockwork, he nods; his face heats up and he feels a bit ashamed at how quickly he’s melted under your hold, but any embarrassment is washed away the moment he feels your hand begin to fumble with his belt, clumsily undoing it before you’re moving to undo his jeans. 

“Wait,” you breathe against his neck, feeling him shiver softly; he’s confused, whining softly at the sudden loss of touch until he’s watching as you pull away, glancing behind your shoulder before you’re meeting his eyes with a blank expression, “take me to your room.”

For a second, he’s confused about the sudden switch of your behavior— but then he’s looking over your shoulder and right at the direction you glanced at, a sudden laugh breaking through him when he spots Toto in the corner; sheepishly, he nods. 

“Okay,” he says, smiling shyly at the way you reach out for the hand placed on the small of your back, intertwining your fingers so naturally it’s almost instinct, “yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

He watches you kick off your shoes and allows you to lead him straight to his room— he’s surprised you even remembered where it is— and smiles at the way you tug him closer by the collar the moment you step inside, palms pressing flat on his chest and making him walk backwards until his knees are hitting the edge of the bed— he falls back, hair splaying prettily on his sheets as he looks up at you with expectant, adoring eyes. 

You’re straddling him immediately after; planting your core directly on his prominent bulge, taking in the way he lets out a broken whimper at the feeling of your heat pressing against him so well— his hands fly to your waist, fingers weakly digging into the meat of your hips as he attempts to subtly buck up into you; you tsk, shaking your head and leaning down to place a hand firm on his chest. 

“Bad pup,” you say softly, hovering above his lips and watching as he desperately chases them, “You need to be patient, okay?”

He nods frantically, eyes fluttering shut the moment you press your lips against him slowly, feeling the way he desperately seeks to taste you— you allow him to, wandering hands beginning to unbutton his pristine white shirt slowly as he remains distracted. 

Beomgyu is a lot more fit than you expected; lean muscle greeting you the moment you slip his shirt off his shoulders, leaning up to let him take it off and raking your nails down his skin— his stomach flinches at your nails scratch at it, and you smile childishly at the sight, the action reminiscent to the first time you got your hands on him. 

“So pretty…” you mumble to yourself, tracing a path along his chest, down to his navel, watching as he shivers at your touch; a shaky gasp escapes his lips, hands grabbing at his sheets and eyes fluttering shut as he fights back the urge to buck up into you again— your eyes flicker up to study his expression, titling your head curiously as a smile tugs at your lips. 

“You’re so pretty, Beomgyu,” you say again, leaning down to plant soft kisses along his neck, beginning to trail down until you’re at his chest— you’re able to watch the way his skin flushes a soft pink at your words, shy gaze averting quickly the moment you’re looking back up at him— and you laugh softly to yourself, hovering over his lap and trailing a hand down as you begin to undo his pants with ease. 

“Y’know, I’ve never seen you so dressed up before,” you comment offhandedly, taking a moment to observe his pristine clothes, his styled hair— and your jaw clenches at the thought of Yunjin seeing him like this, an inkling of jealousy beginning to rear its ugly head the longer you think about it; you’re tugging at his pants, watching as his hips lift to help you tug them down more, and scoff at your wandering thoughts. 

“Bet you would’ve loved to have her attention on you, hmm?” you say, beginning to roll your hips against his the moment he opens his mouth to protest— a sharp moan leaves Beomgyu instead, mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt grinding against his, the only thing separating the two of you being your thin panties and his boxers that are quickly becoming ruined; his eyes flicker down to where you continue to roll your hips, the sight of your skirt riding up and bunching up at your thighs enough to have his cock twitch. 

“Just can’t control yourself when you’re with a cute girl— just can’t say no,” Beomgyu’s hips jump and he lets out a long whine at a particularly harsh roll of your hips, feeling his cock slot perfectly against your cunt, the material of your panties soaked and sticking to your pussy, able to feel you better the more pressure you add; his hands fly to your hips once more, but instead of trying to guide your pace, they simply remain there, grabbing at your skirt and fisting the material in his hands, flushed face and shining eyes begging silently for more. 

“No— can’t, can’t say no— ah!” Beomgyu begins, unable to speak properly with the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of your warm cunt on his aching cock, “can’t say no to you… fuck…”

His words are enough to catch you off guard; your pace is stuttering and your eyes are widening, the brief pause enough to give Beomgyu enough confidence to continue— his eyes are glassy as he stares up at you, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles on your hips as he speaks. 

“Could never say no to you…” he says softly, face reddening as he continues, “you’re too pretty to say no to.”

He doesn’t quite meet your gaze after that; he’s too shy to, but with the way you immediately begin to undress before him after a moment, he’s sure that he must’ve flipped a switch inside you. 

“God, you’re so cute…” you mutter, throwing your shirt off in a random direction before you’re sliding your skirt off— and Beomgyu is growing flustered at the sight again, practically malfunctioning from seeing your body for the first time. 

You’re left in only your underwear when you finally decide you’ve had enough of his shyness, grabbing his face with a firm hand and turning it to look back at you; your nails dig into his plush cheeks and his eyes grow wide at the gesture, meeting your eyes as you simply give him a coy smile and a peck to his lips. 

“So pathetic too,” you continue, watching his adam’s apple bob at your condescending words, “I love it.” 

You lean close to his ear; slowly, you take his hands and begin guiding them along your body, feeling the way his breath hitches and his chest begins to take shallow breaths, shaky fingertips grazing against your skin, up your biceps until you’re leading him to your back, straight to your bra strap.

“Undo it,” you murmur against the shell of his ear, able to listen to the way he gulps softly; nervous hands fiddle with the clasp, the way you place chaste kisses to the spot behind his ear not helping in the slightest— and after a moment, you’re finally able to feel the garment loosening around you, along with a soft sigh the boy lets out. 

The straps slip off your shoulders slowly, and with a coy smile, you make a show of discarding your bra, sitting back and watching as Beomgyu’s face turns impossibly red; his eyes are wide and his hands are frozen, unsure of what to do as you simply huff at the sight— and your hands are taking his once more, guiding them slowly until he’s cupping your breasts; he gulps again, and you pout at the sight. 

“Don’t you wanna touch me?” you pout, tilting your head and watching as the man underneath you remains reliant on your instructions to do anything; his eyes snap back up to meet yours at your words, shaking his head softly and opening his mouth to stutter protests.

“I– I do, I do,” he says, licking his lips nervously before looking back down at your breasts, thumbs experimentally swiping across your nipples; you shiver at the feeling, the sight of even your smallest reactions making Beomgyu’s cock ache, “I just… I’m not sure what to do….what you’d like.” 

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, absentmindedly guiding his hands to touch and caress your breasts just how you like, your back aching slightly at the stimulation, “I can teach you.” 

“Please,” Beomgyu whines out, hands finally beginning to move on their own as a smile grows on your face, watching the way looks at you with needy, fucked out eyes, “Please, wanna make you feel good.” 

“Do you now?” you tease, titling your head and raising a brow at him questioningly; he nods his head fervently, eyes filled with an undeniably desire that leads him to take your body in hungrily, trailing from your chest down until he stops right at your cunt thats pressed so perfectly against him. 

His line of sight is terribly obvious— though you don’t think it was Beomgyu’s intention to hide his desires anyway, not with the way your back is suddenly colliding against his bed, a gasp escaping you the moment you feel warm hands prying your legs open; you’re propping yourself up with your elbows, wide eyes meeting Beomgyu’s; the said man kneels on the floor and is now at eye level with your soaked cunt— his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, and with a soft laugh, you realize that Beomgyu is yet again waiting for further instructions. 

“Can I taste you?” He asks meekly, eyes shining behind the lenses of his glasses, the sight endearing and a complete switch from the words that leave his mouth, “will you let me?”

Silence— all he gets in response is a slow sigh, the boy peeking through his lashes to get a gauge of your expression; he gulps at the sight of your narrowed eyes and pinched brows, mind undoubtedly thinking of scenarios that sour your mood— but the sight of you like this is much too tempting, and Beomgyu will be damned if he doesn’t get to lose himself in your pussy at least once; his cock pathetically twitches at the mere thought. 

“I don’t know puppy,” you murmur, sneering at the way he pouts immediately, strong hands tugging at you and pulling you towards him more, body sliding at the movement— and though you can feel him breathe against your clothed cunt, he still refrains from doing anything, waiting loyally for your okay with pleading eyes. 

“Do you think you deserve it?” you ask, throwing a leg over his shoulder, digging the heel of your foot in between his shoulder blades roughly— he practically keens at the feeling, a poorly stifled whimper escaping him, followed by a shaky sigh, “after seeing the way you’ll give anyone who approaches you all your attention like a slut, I don’t think you do.” 

You make sure to punctuate your words with another dig of your heel, but Beomgyu remains unaffected— if anything, it manages to spur him on more, and you’re left to pretend as though his next actions don’t leave you terribly weak. 

“Please…” he whispers, the sound so soft you barely miss it— he’s pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, lips lingering on the skin before he looks back up to meet your gaze; his eyes are glazed with nothing but need. The single word continues to leave him like a mantra, unable to do anything more than watch as he begins to litter kisses all over your inner thighs, soft begs slowly increasing their intensity the longer you deny him. 

I deserve it, I do; please, please let me make you feel good, promise you’re the only one for me— please? Please, please please please…

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of Beomgyu’s broken, repetitive begging— his hair brushes against your sensitive skin that has been peppered with endless kisses, and if it weren’t for the way Beomgyu’s eyes were beginning to become watery from his desperation, you would’ve allowed yourself to enjoy the show a little more. 

“You want it that much?” you seethe, a hand going down to tangle itself in his long hair— and, just as expected, he lets out a broken whine, followed with an immediate, breathy “yes” that affects you much more than you let on, “Go on then.” 

You’re guiding his head to your cunt without another word, fingers still entangled tightly in the roots of his hair; he begins with a soft kiss to your cunt, the sight making you roll your eyes— for someone so eager, he sure was hesitant. 

His tongue is hot and heavy against your clit; he’s running the tip of it along your slit, listening to the hitch of your breath and taking in every miniscule reaction you provide— he’s teasing you, albeit unintentionally, and the realization has you tightening your hold on his roots in warning; you feel the way he lets out a shaky breath at the action, and soon after, his fingers are tugging at the waistband of your panties, making slow work to properly take them off. 

Beomgyu’s every movement is feather-like and hesitant; it’s clear he’s testing out the waters, unsure of what to do in order to please you— and while a part of you is endeared at the messy kitten licks of his tongue and the way he circles your clit sloppily, the other part of you seems to be feeling much more unforgiving— you’re tugging his hair and telling him to look at you with a harsh voice. 

“What happened to wanting to please me? To deserving this?” you mock, lips quirking to a satisfied smile the moment his face heats up, ears tinting a soft red, “are you too much of a virgin to know how to eat a girl out?”

His face turns a bright red and he remains silent— you can only manage a bewildered laugh at the sight. 

Of course, how did you not piece it together before? It seems as though you were much too generous to give him the benefit of the doubt before, because as you stare Beomgyu down with a gaze that’s nothing short of predatory, you’ve realized that his silence tells you more than enough; He’s a total virgin. 

“Oh, you don’t know anything, do you?” you coo softly, letting go of Beomgyu’s scalp to caress his face softly, a grin threatening to break through your face from the simple sight of the man melting into your touch, “you need me to guide you through it?” 

With a shaky sigh, Beomgyu nods— it barely takes a moment before you’re pushing at the back of his head and guiding him back to your cunt. 

He didn’t bother to take off his glasses; you didn’t bother to remind him, smiling cruelly as you murmur soft instructions to him, telling him to suck on your clit or guiding his mouth to lick at your entrance, responding with soft sighs of pleasure whenever he does something particularly well; he’s sloppy, inexperienced, and undeniably nervous, but you suppose he makes up for its with his eagerness to do well as he continues, slowly taking note of what makes your hips buck and your fingers tighten against his hair— and after a few minutes, you’re no longer instructing Beomgyu step by step, but instead throwing your head back and letting your mouth fall open with unabashed moans. 

Beomgyu’s eagerness is abundant and blatant. He’s pressing his face against your cunt after having gained confidence, mouth sloppy and hanging open as he allows you to grind against him, feeling his glasses slip down the tall bridge of his nose and fog up with every pant of breath— but he finds that he doesn’t really mind, eyes fluttering shut and lips circling around your clit as he hones in to the sounds you make instead. 

You think Beomgyu’s head is completely empty at this point; his fingers dig into your thighs and he continues his attempts to bring you closer against his face, greedy mouth drinking up any arousal that slips from your entrance before he’s fucking you with his tongue— your hips buck unintentionally against him at that, and from the way he only increases his efforts even further, you think he might’ve enjoyed that. 

“Beomgyu— puppy, fuck,” you hiss, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the way his nose is now pressed against your clit from how close he’s attempting to get to you. Your chest heaves and you can feel a tight knot forming in your stomach, body beginning to become restless as Beomgyu remains unfazed at your sudden squirming— you’re close, so close, and Beomgyu wants nothing more than to feel you fall apart against his face. 

“Shit– right there, just like that— don’t stop, god, fuck—!” Your eyes are screwed shut as a sudden wave of pleasure breaks through you, your hand pulling at Beomgyu’s hair and your heel digging sharply into his back as you cum; the boy only lets out a pathetic whine at the feeling of you rolling your hips smoothly against his face, mouth left ajar and eyes fluttering shut as he lets you use him, riding it out with twitchy legs and soft moans. 

Beomgyu only moves after your grip slips from his head entirely; your whole body is falling slack, a deep sigh escaping you as you attempt to catch your breath, eyes bleary and slowly opening after a moment— you’re able to watch as the said boy goes to stand, a weak hand of yours stopping his motion and grabbing at his shoulder— and you’re guiding him to hover over you, smiling coyly at the wrecked sight of him. 

His glasses are completely skewed— a slight heat burns at your face from the sight, but it’s all washed away by the lopsided smile Beomgyu gives you, entirely unaware of his flushed and messy appearance; gently, you reach out to slip off his glasses, putting them off to the side as you reach to adjust his mused hair next— he merely watches your face with doe eyes as you brush his hair away gently, tucking it behind his ear before you cup his jaw, tugging him down to kiss you again.

“You’re sure you wanna do this?” you mumble against his lips, hands absentmindedly running along his skin soothingly, lips beginning to wander off as you trail soft pecks against his jawline, smiling at the way he doesn’t hesitate to nod, “you want it?”

“Need it,” Beomgyu whines, letting out a shaky breath as he grabs your hand, guiding it down his chest slowly, adding pressure once you’ve reached the bulge of his boxers— you can feel the way he twitches the moment you touch him, gulping softly before the continues to plead, “need it, need to feel you.” 

His voice is sweet and soft in your ears, and you find that you can’t really bring yourself to put up a front and resist; it’s physically impossible to, especially with the way he ruts his cock against your hand, leaking pathetically and twitching at even the slightest stimulation.

Beomgyu’s attempts to remain calm and collected falls apart the moment you relent, face red and eyes wide with anticipation the moment he feels your hand go to pull his cock out; he falters above you for a split second, teeth sinking into his lip to suppress a whine that builds up in his throat. But his attempts are futile as always, a broken whimper leaving him the moment you press the head of his cock against your cunt, tightening around the shaft and proceeding to run it along your slit teasingly. 

He’s practically panting above you, fingers gripping onto the sheets as he allows you to toy with him, eyes glassy and meeting yours as you simply coo mockingly at him, teasing him for being nothing but a toy for you to use.

The moment you press his tip against your entrance, the two of you tense; a shaky sigh escapes you at the stretch, looking up at Beomgyu and whispering for him to just put it in already; and he swallows, eyes watering at the feeling of him finally pushing into you— warm, wet walls that flutter around him, stretching and adjusting to his size; your hips that jolt with every inch he slides in, eyes widening and mouth falling open as you try to contain your composure— but his size is no joke, and curses leaves your mouth endlessly at the feeling of him filling you up.

“God— you’re so… so warm, so tight,” Beomgyu cries above you, hips stuttering and making him push himself deeper into you; a yelp escapes you at the feeling, hips pressed flushed against his as you stare up at him with wide eyes, cunt clenching at the anticipation of him fucking you. 

But he simply remains still, and you’re just about to complain for him to move when you catch sight of his expression, screwed up into concentration as he lets out a deep breath— probably trying not to cum, you muse to yourself— and he sits up, no longer hovering over you as his hands move to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles on the skin as he looks down where the two of you connect; he looks up at you, puppy eyes begging for one thing. 

“You— you can move,” you breathe out, cringing slightly at the weak sound of your voice, the way you trip over your words; Beomgyu nods, sighing shakily again before he finally begins to move, slowly pulling out until the only thing you feel is his tip catching at your entrance— then he thrusts back in, and you don’t bother to swallow down the moan that manifests from that. 

Beomgyu isn’t faring any better than you; his brows are knitted together and his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips, voice pitchy and whiny as he attempts to fuck you properly— but his thrusts are sloppy and rough, and it seems as though he’s too concentrated on the feeling of you around him to find a good pace. 

You’re opening your mouth to tease him about it, only to get cut off at the feeling of him bumping his cock against your sweet spot; a whine leaves you unexpectedly, the sound accompanied with the feeling of your legs attempting to wrap around his waist to pull him in enough to snap him out of his pussy drunk daze. He’s drinking up your expression, his pace slowing down enough to allow him to search for that spot again— it takes a few attempts, but once he catches onto it, he doesn’t relent. 

“Sh–shit, just like that,” you whine, his thrust becoming more calculated as he begins to take note of what makes you feel good once more— though it’s still slightly sloppy and uneven, his weak pants and pitchy whines enough to tell you that his mind is much too hazy to care.

Absentmindedly, your hand snakes down to circle at your clit in search of more stimulation— only to get it knocked away roughly by Beomgyu’s, eyes widening at the action until he’s replacing you hand with his— and though you wish you could make fun of him for being such a desperate bitch, the stimulation has your voice getting caught in your throat.  

“Does— does this feel good?” Beomgyu suddenly asks, puppy eyes watering and glazed as he picks up his pace, one hand gripping onto your waist while the other continues to rub your clit, “Am I– ah… am I doing good?”

You almost miss the last part with how softly he says it— but once you process his question, you let out a breathy laugh, biting at your lip in an attempt to suppress the smile that tugs at your face; you fail miserably, but all the patronizing look in your eyes does is make Beomgyu’s cock twitch inside you a bit. 

“Does my stupid puppy need something? Need my approval?” you ask, pouting at the way he hesitates to answer, “I won’t know unless you tell me, baby.” 

The pet names are enough to have Beomgyu short-circuiting again; his face feels hot and he lets out a petulant whine at the way you continue to tease, ignoring his pleading look as you reach up to cup his jaw, cooing his name so sweetly he’s unable to be ashamed at how easily he breaks. 

“Tell me I’m doing good,” he whines, and you simply smile at him, stuttered breaths and soft moans the only thing leaving your lips as you notice the increased sloppiness of his thrusts, his erratic voice and face that slowly nears yours, hovering over you as he speaks.

“I’m— ‘m good, right? Your…” he trails off, punctuating his next word with a harsh, deep thrust that has you yelping, “your good boy— tell me, tell me I’m good, just wanna hear you say it, ah, wanna be good for you.” 

He’s a babbling, whining mess, hiding his face in your neck immediately after the words escape him— and with a request so sweet, how could you ever deny him?

“So good for me,” you immediately respond, listening to the muffled whimpers as he buries his head deeper into your neck, wandering lips sucking and biting at the skin, “good little pup— fuck, are you close? Gonna fill me up?” 

You feel the way he nods frantically against you, his hand leaving your hip to circle under your back, pulling you flush against him as he continues his rough, haphazard thrusts— and you turn your head to face him, pressing a kiss to his head before you lean in close to his ear, the sounds of your breathy moans and sweet voice enough to bring him over the edge. 

“C’mon, cum for me puppy,” you coo, listening to the long whimper he lets out in response, hips stilling and pressing flush against yours as he follows your command, warm cum filling you up as he rides out his orgasm, cock rutting subtly into you all the while, “that’s it— such a good boy, so perfect to me.” 

His chest heaves against yours; his other arm comes up to sneak under your body as well, successfully hugging you close against him, bodies pressed together and practically one with how tightly he’s got you in his grip— his cock remains inside you all the while, head nuzzled deeply in the space of your neck as you merely let out an amused huff, giving him a moment to catch his breath before you tease him again. 

The moment of peace between the two of you is cut by the abrasive sound of his phone ringing, the two of you looking at the source with furrowed brows; neither of you make a move to get it, watching it continue to vibrate on the bed before it goes silent— you’re both falling back against the bed the moment in bliss the moment the ringtone disappears, and you can feel Beomgyu’s arms tightening around you even more, not expecting him to be so openly clingy—

“You didn’t cum,” Beomgyu suddenly gasps, head popping up from his hiding place as he hovers over you with wide eyes. You simply reassure him that it’s alright, already feeling your body get heavy with exhaustion— but he isn’t having it, shaking his head and standing back up as he looks at you with an unbelievably solemn expression, wincing softly as he pulls out of you, “No, I wanna make you cum— wanna feel you cum on my dick, wanna make you feel good.” 

The words sound clumsy coming from him, oddly shy to say what he wants out loud— and it makes you laugh, attempting to tell him that you really don’t mind when you’re getting interrupted by the annoying sound of his phone ringing. 

“Seriously, who the hell is…” you’re trailing off as you watch Beomgyu’s eyes widen, leaning over to snatch his phone as he reads the contact name, his horrified expression telling you all you need to know. 

“Don’t answer it,” you seethe, ignoring the way he stutters about how he totally forgot to cancel, feeling a hot anger bubble in your stomach as he talks about how bad he feels for not communicating properly, “Beomgyu, don’t answer it!” 

“I— what if she’s waiting outside right now—?!”

Your movements are much too sudden and swift for him to process; he can only watch and allow you to snatch the phone away from him, rough hands gripping his shoulders and hissing at him to fucking sit; he’s quick to comply, and you’re even quicker to climb onto his lap and situate yourself just how you like— he cries softly at the feeling of you grabbing at his sensitive cock, stroking it for a moment and aligning it with your entrance before you’re sinking down on him slowly. 

“Who cares if she’s outside right now,” you scowl, digging your fingers in his cheeks and forcing him to look at you, swollen lips red and pouty as he merely whines at the feeling of you rocking slowly against him, “it’s the least we could do to get back at her for trying to fucking use you.”

His protests die down once you pick up your pace; oh, his face practically screams, eyes glazing over at the feeling of your warm pussy using his sensitive cock to get yourself off, soft cries leaving him as he merely watches you begin to ride him expertly, already feeling himself get hard inside you, the sight of you on top of him and the sounds of skin against skin riling him much more than expected.

“Hnng, wait, slow down please—!” he whines softly, hands flying to your hips yet making no attempts to control the pace— and you can only laugh at him, the sounds of his soft cries enough to encourage you more. 

You’re close— so, so close, and all Beomgyu can do is sit and take it, tears of sensitivity pricking at his eyes and falling along his cheeks the moment he feels your walls clench against him— but he’d rather die than stop you, sp entranced with the sight of your face twisted with pleasure that his body screams at him to do what he can to make you feel good. 

Like instinct, your hand tangles itself in Beomgyu’s hair the moment he latches his lips against your nipple, back arching and the tight knot in your stomach falling apart the moment his wandering hand goes to play with your clit; the way your walls spasm and hug him tightly is enough to have Beomgyu cumming inside you again, a pathetic keen sounding from him as he buries his head in your chest, beyond sensitive with the way you continue to ride your orgasm long after.

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of your panting and Beomgyu’s soft whimpers— but it doesn’t last long, a tired groan escaping you at the sound of Beomgyu’s phone ringing again; without much of a thought, you reach for it and finally answer. 

“Leave him alone. He’s busy.” 

You hang up immediately after— the girl on the other side didn’t get the chance to utter a single word, and you find that you couldn’t care less as you toss his phone to the side and look over at Beomgyu— you’re smiling softly at the way he seems mortified at your action. 

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel bad,” you sigh, placing your hands on his chest and pushing, gently guiding the two of you to lay down— he remains inside you as he pulls you in close, your limbs heavy and tangling quickly as he mutters a soft no, I don’t; you smile. “Good. Cause I almost got mad again.”

He chuckles softly at that, falling quiet after; you look up at him to gauge his expression, finding that he’s lost in thought. After a few minutes, he meets your eyes meekly and finally speaks. 

“Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

A pause. You said a lot of things earlier— but as you retract on every little thing that's come from your mouth, you realize what he’s talking about— and you laugh, reaching to cup his cheeks fondly as you nod. 

“Of course I did,” you grin, pecking his lips, your heart fluttering wildly at the way he immediately chases after you for more after you pull away, “I meant all of it— and more.” 

Softly, he smiles. His arms that were wrapped around you pull you in close, closing the space between you and bringing you in for a slow, sweet kiss— he pulls away, leaning into your ear to whisper something with a coy smile. 

“So do you wanna play League of Legends later?”

You let out an annoyed yell and punch at his chest— you practically fuck his brains out, and this is all he can say?

“You’re such a fucking loser,” you mourn, hiding your face in your hands. 

Beomgyu laughs, and places a kiss on the top of your head. 

“But I’m your loser,” he says sweetly, nuzzling against your hair with a content sigh, “all yours.”

Under the covers of your hands, you smile. 

All yours. You like the sound of that. 

[tubareads]

Reallly needed my Taehyun fix and this delivered sooo much, I’m obsessed with a pining/potential simp Taehyun. Haven’t really read much sub Tyun so this was such a treat and I was waaay more into it then I expected , I know for a fact this is gonna be a fic I reread over and over whenever I’m in my Tyun feels

warnings. sub!tyun, noona!reader, desperate shit, degrading, use of whore/slut, handjob

flirt freshman!taehyun who, even if he looks polite and at times would even be described as cute, is definitely a heartbreaker. stringing along, fucking, then ghosting.

you see right through his nice guy act when he subtly hits on you, flashing you his white pearls, blinding smile that show off his dimpled cheeks and the way his eyes form into crescents, his simple charms almost, almost having an effect on you. but you know better, you’ve already passed this chapter of your life, getting yourself fucked over by cute assholes. so you reject any and all advances that he makes on you, even as so far as to completely ignore him whenever he addresses you in a group setting.

you wanted to protect yourself, because again, you knew better. but what you dont realize is how often your blatant rejections have been either straight up cruelly humiliating or just plain harsh to the younger boy. not until you’re stuck with taehyun as you awkwardly wait in the car for your friends.

“why dont you like me?” he starts, quiet as he looks out the window. you turn to look at him, a little astonished that he decided to confront you. then you quickly recollect yourself, clearing your throat.

“who told you that?”

he scoffs, a sneer retching his expression. “you’re kidding aren’t you? i don’t think i know anybody more repulsed with me than you. everyone can see it. you almost jumped out of the car when they told you i was going to sit in the back tonight.”

it’s like hes been keeping all of his thoughts behind a lock with how fast everything spilled out of his mouth and you take in a breath. “ok now that’s an exaggeration.”

“not really.”

then it falls silent again, hearing the distant horns of cars and you awkwardly shift. he’s right, its not.

then suddenly, his eyes turn from the window to you, and the eye contact catches you off guard, you can make out the slight furrow of his brows and the small pout that rests on his lips—you’ve never seen him look like that. you avert your gaze almost immediately.

but he’s still staring. and it has you nervously tapping your finger on your lap.

“i like you, noona.”

your eyes widen a little. not because of the confession, you knew it was coming eventually. something about this variation of gentleness with his voice that you don’t think you’ve quite heard…ever coming from a man has your heart beat just a little faster. noona? its nothing new coming from taehyun, but your hands still slight dig into the fabric of your skirt. “if that wasn’t already obvious enough.” he says bitterly with a non humored laugh.

you spend the entire night, staring at your blank empty google doc, wallowing in all thoughts related to taehyun. it kind of pisses you off that he’s managed to chip a little away from your wall, you usually disperse any thought that comes up in your head that has to do with him. but now you choose to give yourself a leeway, just a little to think over whether he was being genuine, and whatever happened in the car was taehyun serving his heart on the platter to be so…vulnerable, or if it was just the last trick up his sleeve to lure you in like a toy he can’t have.

but then you remember the little features—the way his brows slightly turned up, the way his bottom lip instinctively stuck out, just a tiny bit—the way his eyes twinkled, just somewhat, as cliché as it is to say, it felt genuine, real.

when taehyun sends you a text that night, with a string of other unread messages from weeks or days ago before it—you come to the conclusion that he likes you, really likes you.

sorry, ignore what i said today

i don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me any more than you do

your heart swells a little, and simultaneously feel the guilt conscience slowly creeping up on you. maybe you really did misread him this entire time.

so imagine your surprise when the next time you see taehyun, a week later, it’s at a frat party, looking down at a girl clinging onto his arms with those same twinkling eyes, smile, dimples, gentle look—eventually laughing then biting down on his lips as he looks away, the red on tips of his ears making you fume more than you’d admit. you don’t know what it was, what exactly made you insane enough to stomp over to him in long strides, wobbly pushing through the drunks, seeing red as you grab taehyun by the arm when he’s of reach—the surprised look on his face only lasting for a second before you furiously turn around, dragging him away from the confused girl that he was getting way too flirty with.

he could’ve easily shaken off your grip, it was weak, but he followed, he let you take him, only when you push him in a non occupied room and lock the door does he finally say something.

“hey, what the fuck was that—”

then you go for it. throwing all logical justifications and reasoning, you pull him into you harshly by the collar of his shirt, crashing your lips onto his. you don’t know what you expected, up to now it felt like you’ve been on airplane mode, but you know it wasn’t what taehyun returns. even if youre the one who came onto him first, he kisses back even more passionately, leaning into you, so quick to be receptive, hands going up to your cheeks as he lets you walk him hard into the door, latching onto your lips as if its a taste of a drug that has him hooked right from the first dose.

he’s so…desperate, it scares you, and turns you on at the same time. every time you try to pull away a little he reels you back almost immediately following your lips, the kiss becoming open mouthed as he breathes in and gets more and more messy, sloppy—he’s so sloppy, it’s the last thing you expected from him.

you finally manage to pull away, both of you catching your breath, with his lips glistening and red, mouth agape, chest heaving, up and down as he stares stunned.

“wha—um, so—fuck, sorry, no wait—” hes stumbling over his words. again, something taehyun never does. whenever hes spoken to you, it always felt so calculated, like every word hes thought over, because it felt so perfect. hes always collected.

you clasp your hand over his mouth, weakly, but he stills shuts up his ramble and jumble of words, blinking at you, with those god damn adorable brown eyes.

“kindly, shut the fuck up.”

his brows twitch a little, but he’s still silent.

your eyes search for something in his, you don’t know what, but it feels like you’ve gotten a green light, sighing. “i wanna fuck you.”

“shit.” he marvels, feeling his breath against your palm, his eyes still just as wide. you don’t know what exactly he’s thinking but if the dick already poking against your thigh was any indication, it was that he wanted it. really bad.

you slip your hand off his lips, then you whisper, fixated on how plump they are, “open your mouth.”

he blinks confused, hesitant until you take it upon yourself to rub your thigh against the tent in his pants, having him almost immediately buckle as he lets out a sinful groan. you should know he’s probably not into what you’re into, so you ease into it, testing the waters as you press yourself flush against him, rubbing your leg up and down against his clothed dick. “feel good?”

“y-yeah, shit, noona, please touch me.”

“i am touching you,” you swipe your hand over his bottom lip, fuck, they really are pretty. and so kissable. you’re shocked you haven’t kissed them sooner.

“no, i want your hand.”

you scoff, he’s so confident with what he wants, and so demanding. bratty. he’s probably so used to dominating. “this isn’t enough? me getting off your crusty dick isn’t enough for you? you’re feeling good, aren’t you?”

you press harder and with no consent of his own, his breaths knocked out of him, a slight squeak by the end that has his ears running red again. your thumb slips into his mouth, easing into it, slowly, before you fully press on his tongue as the friction of your knees against his cock gets more and more frantic and torturous. “you tell me you like me then decide i’m not worth the headache, a week later you run off to another innocent girl you’ll try to break the heart of after getting your fill. someone needs to keep you in check for becoming such an asshole, no? do you have no shame?” you mock, feeding him another finger in his mouth so he can’t retort like you know the smartass in him would do.

he sucks on them, surprising you as you feel his tongue licking eagerly…fuck, how badly did you misread him?

but you can tell with the way his eyes involuntarily water, and the way he shakes his vehemently, he still has the audacity to deny everything.

you scoff, slipping them out of his mouth, string of his saliva coating your fingers and shoving that hand down his pants, promplty grabbing his dick, marveling at the soft, wet feel. he already spilled so much pre-cum—slut. he likes this.

“you don’t like me, you have no right to be jea—hahhh..fuck, you can’t be jealous, you c-can’t. shit, faster, faster please noona, noona…” he whines, delirious as he gets lost at the feeling of your hand, bucking his hips, clearly getting frustrated with how irritatingly slow you’re tugging at his dick.

“i don’t. i don’t like you. i don’t like slutty men who’re bad.”

he whimpers, and fuck does that noise have you pooling your underwear.

“how have i been bad? how? i’m always good to you, i always—”

you twist your hand a little and his head immedietely falls back against the door, mouth hung open as he lets out pathetic, needy pants, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“like it? is it how you imagined it’d feel to have my hands wrapped around your cock?” you press, kissing down his jawline, hand letting out wet sounds as you jerk him off with more speed

“yes, yes, so much better noona, so much—” he chokes on his own words when you suck on his neck, feeling him let out shuddering breaths. cute.

when you use your other hand to trail up under his shirt, feeling up his muscle, you can hear him gulp, and for whatever reason, it turns you on even more.

“fuck, you’ve been trying to dom me, haven’t you?” he breathes out.

you let out an airy laugh out of your nose, grazing your thumb over his nipple, the hitch of his breath being your undoing. “i have been domming you—this entire time. what, don’t like it when a womans in charge?”

he shakes his head immediately, “no, no, i like it. i really do, i like it a lot. i like it when its you, noona.”

even when you have his mind sent to overdrive, he still knows exactly what to say to have your heart racing, it’s dangerous.

“hm?” you hum, throat dry, trying to forget the comment thats repeating over and over in your head. he likes it when its you. you scoff a laugh, “you really know how to get a girl going huh?”

“would treat you right. give me a chance noona, i’ll treat you like a queen.”

“a queen?” you laugh, then pretend to ponder on it as you play with his bud more, his dick leaking through your hand—he’s enjoying it all too much. “think would like goddess more.”

he moans wantonly when you thumb his tip, then transitioning to jacking off his shaft in frantic speed. that sure gets him delirious. “goddess, goddess, fuck—i’ll treat you like a goddess baby, swear.”

“sure you wouldn’t ghost me?”

his breath hitches again, head dipping into your shoulder, jaw practically hung open, mix of moans and whines spilling out of his mouth dumbly—who would’ve thought, huh? “never. so pretty, you’re so pretty and smart, and and—”

“such a slut, just want your dick touched and you’ll say anything.”

you feel him shake his head, still panting heavily as he grabbles onto you for support. he’s clingier than you expected, he holds onto you so often.

“faster…faster please, ‘m sososo close.” he sobs, his shaky breath fanning on your shoulder.

you chuckle, giving him what he wants, the wet squelching sounds heightening until he breaks. “gonna—gonna-” he spills before he could even finish his sentence, with a high pitched noise he cums in his pants, no doubt creating a big stain in the area of his crotch.

well, shit.

but when he lifts his head, a dopey smile on his face, eyes glazed over still, you think he might not mind all too much.

############

note. long overdue sub taehyun and a noona smut from me 🙏 did they fuck. no. will there be a future continuation of this au. perhaps.

[tubareads]

THIS WAS SO GOOOOD 😭 I’ve always loved a good simp, but since Seven came out I just cannot get the idea of a loser (said lovingly) boyfriend who’s just so Into his girl out of my head, and this fic delivers that PERFECTLY. I also can actually kinda see Yeonjun being like this. And! Wednesday was so cute with all the other member cameos 🥺 really enjoyed reading this

love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6

“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”

yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 10.6K

warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it

smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)

Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-

Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess. 

It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again. 

“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”

But sometimes, he just can’t help it. 

He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.

“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”

“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”

“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”

“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”

“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”

“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.

“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”

Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

MONDAY

This is it. 

Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you. 

He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.

He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this. 

Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you. 

When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him. 

He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight. 

Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear. 

You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.

Shit, this was so embarrassing. 

Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest. 

The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all. 

But for you, anything could change. 

This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already. 

Looking back was your first mistake.

Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you. 

“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself. 

“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!” 

“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”

You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina. 

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there. 

“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you. 

He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.

He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern. 

“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him. 

“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry. 

“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground. 

“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him. 

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.  

“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in. 

“For existing.” 

God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word. 

“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes. 

“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.

Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.” 

He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them. 

This was… progress. 

But you’re still mad at him. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

TUESDAY

Visiting you in class was a big no. 

Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.

You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway. 

Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort. 

He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time. 

It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level. 

He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you. 

He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him. 

But, you are a horrendously petty person.

You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.

It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes. 

You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead. 

After a moment, the footsteps disappeared. 

It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly. 

There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.

Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence. 

Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s. 

His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation. 

Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears. 

That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him. 

You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself. 

After a while, you hear scribbling sounds. 

You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud. 

Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.

Can you pls let me look at u at least?

You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time. 

I miss you so so so so so much. 

You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left. 

That was your second mistake. 

Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access. 

I’m sorry. 

Another paper flies over your fortress.

I’m sorry.

Then, another. 

Pls forgive me.

Then another. And another, and another, and another. 

Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((

You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds. 

It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions. 

There’s a small pile of hearts next to him. 

Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance. 

Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table. 

Can I show u how sorry I am??

You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus. 

You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions. 

“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done. 

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take. 

Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again. 

I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically. 

“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out. 

There goes all his progress. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

WEDNESDAY

Today has been an oddly nice day.

It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood. 

A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours. 

“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you! 

The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.

It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief. 

Yeonjun says he’s sorry.

“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!

You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.

By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.) 

Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip. 

Yeonjun is really sorry.

…What? 

You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before. 

He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache. 

You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog. 

Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.

“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar. 

Yeonjun misses you more than anything. 

The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face. 

“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.

“Could you forgive him?”

“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further. 

You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.

When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you. 

Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.

Three ways to better communication in a relationship:

The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.

“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously. 

my baby :((

stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!

my baby :((

and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!

Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated. 

Choi Yeonjun. 

can you pls let me talk to you instead?

You don’t bother opening the notification. 

That was your third mistake.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

THURSDAY

Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends. 

Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.

Well. Most of the time. 

“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation. 

“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.

“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?” 

“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was. 

“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.

“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this. 

It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence. 

I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ. 

Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights. 

“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more. 

“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture. 

A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course. 

Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you. 

Your meal was free. 

The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity. 

“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”

You take a second to think her question through. 

Yet another mistake on your part. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

FRIDAY

Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.

You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened. 

Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you. 

You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will. 

The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station. 

“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”

You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly. 

“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”

“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.” 

Christ!

Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place. 

“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.

You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SATURDAY

You were scared to talk to Yeonjun. 

Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him. 

Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?

The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.

However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.

You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it. 

There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.

Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?

It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!

This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.

Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions. 

Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now. 

I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong. 

God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved. 

 It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.

Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.

You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.

I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…

Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call. 

“Hello?”

“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”

“Uhm, let him in then?”

“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”

“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.” 

“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.” 

“You need to talk to him.”

“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.

“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”

“Okay.” 

You hope you’re not making a mistake. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SUNDAY

This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too. 

Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here. 

“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.

“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”

“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief. 

“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”

“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!” 

Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice. 

“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”

You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him. 

“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!” 

You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess. 

Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now. 

“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”

“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.

“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”

Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra. 

“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.

“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.” 

“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”

“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…” 

Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.

“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”

“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”

Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse. 

“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!” 

Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically. 

“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”

“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”

“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move. 

“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”

“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you. 

“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him. 

“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”

“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”

“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”

Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him. 

Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you. 

The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”

“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”

“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”

“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”

Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners. 

“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans. 

“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”

“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes. 

“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully. 

“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him. 

“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more. 

“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh. 

“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it. 

“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”

His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.

“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.

“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”

“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”

“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.

“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”

Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.

“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation. 

“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”

Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.

His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.

“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”

“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”

He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!

“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears. 

“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”

Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin. 

“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”

The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.

“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.

“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”

Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired. 

You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily. 

“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“

Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…

You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.

This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you. 

Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.

“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”

“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”

“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder. 

“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”

You laugh.

“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”

“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”

A pause. 

“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”

You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight. 

“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.

“For you, yeah.”

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call. 

“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”

(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)

[tubareads]

I don’t think I’ve read such an emotional fix in a long time, to the point where I had to immediately reread it to process everything. This was just so good and so heart wrenching 😭 loved the world building and I felt so much for the main characters, I’m really rooting for them even though they aren’t too thing for themselves 😭😭😭

My Life in Your Hands

Song: Cien Años, Natalia Lafourcade, Pepe Aguilar

“The life of a detective hasn’t always been so lonely; you knew how to trust, once. But after being shown the dangers of vulnerability, you choose to keep it safe and focus on more important matters— completing your mission and stopping a certain outlaw that dares open a door you long ago lost the key to.”

criminal!Soobin x detective!reader

Genre: enemies to… reluctant enemies? It’s weird. Mutual pining, angst, smut, he’s a cowboy your honor 

word count: 7.9K

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, guns, death, violence, blood, injuries, pet names (mostly anything with “pretty” in front of it.)

Smut Warnings: no established dom/sub dynamics, they’re just really hurt and angry, marking, possessiveness, dry humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, manhandling, cum eating,  teasing, begging, scratching, multiple orgasms, creampie 

Notes: this turned out so much sadder than I meant it to be?? It was just supposed to be a silly cowboy story, how did I get here… also, the song is really fitting… sad, but fitting. If you’re curious about anything after reading, feel free to ask me on my blog!

The air becomes tense the moment you step into the bar. 

It’s quiet— too quiet, the people seated around you leaning in and whispering secretly as though their conversations were dangerous. The air is foggy and dense with smoke as the customers drink under low lights, eyes shifting from the singer onstage to you, taking your figure in before they’re moving on to the next eye-catching thing. 

This bar is made up of regulars— everyday customers and familiar faces that nod to each other, waving over their favorite waitresses as they ask for another glass of whiskey— and her time, if she’s willing. The sight practically makes you gag, the wooden chair creaking lowly beneath you as you lean back to inspect the place; your hat is low on your head as you slowly scan the room, hyper-aware of every movement that is being made around you.

“How can I help you today ma’am?” The server before you is pretty, her perfectly rouge lips sculpted into an impeccable smile as she flutters her lashes sweetly at you; all you can do is softly dismiss her, asking for a simple glass of water as you try to ignore the confusion on her face. 

“ ‘m just waiting for someone, is all,” your voice is gruff as you find an odd need to clarify your behavior that might seem strange, a slight relief entering your system as you see her brightly nod in understanding before she’s off. 

You’re not here to drink at all, you think somberly, eyes flitting back to the main entrance for just a moment, but you’re not completely lying about waiting for someone. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the loud arguments that continue to build up to your left, the table next to you suddenly becoming fussy over a game of poker. Yet you pay them no mind, the dull glint of the guns in their holsters giving you more than enough of a warning to not spare them so much as a dirty look. 

“Here you are ma’am,” the waitress says, daintily placing down a glass of water before she’s standing straight, clearing her throat as you barely regard her, “let me know if there’s anything else you need.” 

A nod is all you give her— your attention is much more focused on the young man that enters the bar, quietly slipping in as he makes his way toward you. He’s tall, dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket that contrasts greatly with the white button-up he wears. His shoes click softly to the beat of the singer’s song, arms lazily swinging by his sides as he reaches up to adjust his pristine, white cowboy hat.

Looking down, you allow your own hat to obscure your view as you feel him walk past you, the slight breeze he leaves behind allowing you to catch a whiff of his cologne— then he’s sitting, the loud screech of the chair against the wooden floor making you wince slightly as he allows himself to get comfortable. 

“Gentlemen,” you hear him say, the sight of him nodding to the same loud patrons from earlier being caught in your peripheral vision. His voice is soft and deep, and it only lowers more as he leans into the table, the rest following along as they begin to discuss a seemingly urgent matter. 

You try to listen in— you really do— but you’re unable to pick up on anything, your teeth gritting together in frustration as it all becomes incoherent mumbling to your ears. But then, you hear it— “reward money.”

You’re practically on the edge of your seat as you look forward, seemingly mesmerized by the woman on stage as your fingers drum along absentmindedly to the music. To any outsider, you’d look entirely drawn in by her performance— but it’s far from that. You think your ears might strain from how hard you attempt to listen in, a frown on your face as you’re only able to pick up on a few keywords; they all mash together until he pulls out a heavy key from his pocket, the sound of it a dull thud against the wooden table.

“Careful now boys,” he scolds, immediately placing a protective hand over it as the others attempt to snatch it away. His fingers are slender and careful as they wrap around the item, slowly picking it up before he’s stashing it away safely in an inner breast pocket— briefly, you allow yourself to steal a glance as your eyes hone in on the sight. 

“I worked mighty hard for that little key you saw there,” he pouts, leaning back in his seat as his arms are crossed over his chest firmly, the thick muscle showing even under the layers and dim lighting, “I think it’s time we discuss my payment.”

“How do we know you’re not cheatin’ us?” A man chimes in, a frown on his face as he leans on his elbows, “for all we know, that key could be a fake.”

“A fake?” The man scoffs, laughing softly as his brows raise in bewilderment, “you know I’d never do that you guys.” 

His words begin to become drowned out in your mind, much more focused instead on how you’re going to take that key away from them— and leave in one piece, of course. 

There are five of them now, you calculate, sparing a glance to the rest of the bar, no doubt that there are more of Yeonjun’s goons lying around as well. 

It’s surprising to see that the leader of his own gang isn’t present to take charge of the transaction, but you’re sure that he’s found other ways to entertain himself— briefly, your eyes wander back to the bar and its excess of pretty women; you grimace at your thoughts and its implications. 

Instead, his right-hand man seems to be present in his place— though, you’ve always thought Hueningkai had too much of a short temper to be a proper leader. Even now, your theory proves to be true, the young man glaring daggers at the sly man before them, clearly doubting every word he’s told as his posture remains stiff. 

“Come on now, you know Yeonjun wouldn’t have approved of this if he couldn’t trust me,” the man says, tipping back his hat as his narrowed eyes come into the light, “Why don’t you just give me the money now and hunt me down later if it makes you feel better.” 

You’re in disbelief that this man would be willing to give up this key so easily— whatever they’re offering, it must be more than enough.

There’s not a price that compares to what he has in his pocket, you think, just as suspicious as the substitute leader as you try not to glance back at the table again, it would be foolish to give it up now. 

That key could guarantee an easy life— the key to a hidden vault, filled to the brim with gold and smuggled treasures from the fortune of one of the greatest leaders that ever hit the underground crime scene; The late Kim Namjoon would be fuming if he knew it managed to slip out of his unknown heir’s hands. 

Then again, many speculate that it wasn’t a simple key that would open this vault— he was a great mind after all, and Kim Namjoon would not let such a flimsy security measure stick; it is rumored that the key that is currently slid across that wooden table is only the first step to acquiring the fortune. 

Your job is to see if that rumor proves to be true. 

The sound of a heavy briefcase brings you out of your daze— the recipient doesn’t even bother peering inside as a wide grin is spread across his face, thanking them as they all stand to leave; he doesn’t stand with them, bidding them goodbye and safe travels as he eagerly waves them away— it is silent, save for the sound of his whiskey glass hitting the table after he downed it; clicking his tongue, he sighs.

“Pretty lady, whatcha thinkin’ bout over there?”

His loud call doesn’t phase you; your fingernails dig into the wood as you trace shapes on it, not bothering to look at the sound of a chair being dragged against the wood. Slow, calculated steps come closer to you, and the thud of his briefcase comes first before the thud of his body falling into the chair. 

“Couldn’t solve the puzzle,” you pause, looking up as you catch the way the man’s smile widens as your eyes meet his, “Soobin?”

“Oh please,” he says, tilting his head as he leans forward, hand on his chin as he takes your appearance in, “you know all their brains put together couldn’t even amount to half of mine.” 

You roll your eyes at the thought— he’s as narcissistic as always.

“Too much work then?” You muse, pouting as a finger circles the rim of your glass mindlessly, “you gave it up so easily.”

“You hurt me, pretty girl,” Soobin says, a pout to match yours gracing his lips as he shakes his head, “you’ve always been one to underestimate me.”

“What is it, then?” You say, your voice hardening as you attempt to come up with reasoning for his actions, “what number could they have possibly given you that made you give up that key?” 

He tuts at your tone of voice— completely dismissive of the glare you fix him, he clicks his tongue as he feigns getting lost in thought; it isn’t long before a fiendish smile sneaks onto his lips. 

“There isn’t a price in the world that would make me hand that key over,” he says, leaning in so close that you think he might just pounce at you— but he doesn’t, sending you a wink instead, “Now I have to go before the chase begins.”

He’s taking off before you know it— the suitcase is left behind, and you’re out of your seat before you can second guess yourself. You kick the suitcase open— there’s nothing but paper in there. 

It was a setup. 

The absence of music is suddenly much more apparent to you— there are no workers around, and the silence is quickly filled by the bullets that come your way; the chair beside you breaks to pieces from the impact of the stray shots. 

You’re quick to flip the table on its side— even quicker to run away, only able to take down a few of Yeonjun’s men before you’re running out of bullets, the rest of the patrons much more involved as they partake in the fight that breaks out. The calming music that once filled the air is now replaced by bullets and the dull thuds of bodies falling around you; the familiar bark of Yeonjun’s voice reaches your ears, followed by hurried footsteps and mumbles of Soobin’s and your names. 

“That fuckin’ detective got some real guts, showin’ up and sittin’ beside us like that,” Yeonjun grits out, kicking away any obstacles as he continues his search, firing at every person that attempts to reach for their weapon and aim it at him.

“I know you’re still here, detective!” Yeonjun yells, fuming as he steps on the bullet wound of a patron— the scream of agony echoes throughout the place as you wince at the sound, “come out now and I’ll go easy on you!”

The only other exit is behind the bar in the employee’s lounge— and by now you’ve crawled your way into some random nook that you can feel your limbs beginning to tense, your teeth sinking into your tongue as you try to ignore the pool of blood from a nearby body that is slowly inching towards you.

“We could work together, even!” He muses, eyeing the place as he signals for his people to leave— he’s attempting to convince you, trying to make you feel more secure as the sight of an equal match could lower your guard. 

“We’re both after the same thing, right?” He says, spinning his gun before he’s firing off into some unknown hiding spot— the shot rings a long closer than you’d like, and you’re barely able to pick up on the offhanded oops that Yeonjun lets out. 

“I knew Soobin would cross me,” he sneers, firing again as he makes his way around the bar, “yet I still gave him the benefit of the doubt— sneaky little thing, that one.” 

Slowly, he makes his way to the center of the bar; he stops, surveying the area for any other places you might be. 

“I know how hard you’ve been workin’ to catch him— to catch both of us. How bout this,” he clicks his tongue, staring down at the barrel of his gun before he’s aiming it again, “work with me, and we’ll catch him— together! I’ll let you take all the credit for his capture… and you let a couple of my things slide under the table.” 

The shot is fired— the sound that rips through you is uncontrollable, the bullet that lodges itself in your bicep catching you off guard as you break the skin of your lip. Your attempt to put pressure on the wound is futile, and your mind is racing to find a way to escape. Looking up, you find that Yeonjun is already looming over you.

“There you are, cutie.”

 You flinch at the sight of him kicking away the debris that hid you so well; his foot stomps down, your eyes shutting instinctively as the blood of someone unknown splashes onto your face— the feeling makes you want to gag.

But you hold it all back as you’re being pulled up roughly, a weak groan leaving you as Yeonjun’s fingers dig into your wound— your mind is spinning so quickly that you’re helpless against the way he slams you against the wall, your cheek pressed against it as he restrains you.

“Quite the offer I put up, hmm?” He says, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he’s forcing you to look at him, “I’d take it if I were you.”

You don’t respond to his words; you know better than to make a deal with Yeonjun, but you’d rather have him think he’s got the upper hand while you wait for a vulnerable moment to appear. 

“Tempting,” you remark, frowning at the way his grip becomes bruising on your arm, “if I were as power-hungry as you.” 

“You’re quite the mean little thing, aren’t you?” He sighs, and your head is roughly pressed against the wall once more, “see, if we’re gonna work together, I don’t think I’d be able to put up with all that— that is of course unless you’d like to die instead.” 

The barrel of his gun is cool against your skin— slowly, the hammer of his revolver is pulled, and the glint in his eyes is unmistakable as he appears in your peripheral vision. 

“I know how fond you’ve been getting of our little friend,” he pouts, a mocking tone to his voice as he leans against you, “but I’d advise you to choose wisely here.” 

You’re trapped— he’s got you, and good, Yeonjun knows this— you see the way he grins at you, waiting patiently for you to decide as the pressure on your temple slowly begins to become worse; the innocent smile he sends you as you glare back at him does nothing to make you feel better. 

What other choice do you have? There’s nothing good that can come out of making a deal with Yeonjun, but you’ve come too far to give it all up now— shakily, you clear your throat, trying to find the words that only seem lodged in your throat. 

Yet, it seems to be your lucky day. 

The pressure at your temple is lifted as Yeonjun groans in pain, the shot still ringing throughout the bar as you take this moment to run, kicking his gun away before you do— and without realizing it, you effortlessly make your way to Soobin’s open arms. 

“Can’t believe you would trade me in like that,” you pay no mind to the way his arm wraps around yours protectively, attempting to shrug him off before he’s pulling you back to him. 

“If you go out now, you’ll die. There’s too many of them out there for you to go like that,” He hisses into your ear, leading you to the back exit and tucking you under his frame as he crouches down low, “just follow me.” 

You’re given no choice with the way your blood is beginning to seep through the cracks of your fingers— you need to get it treated, and fast. The sounds of Yeonjun’s men storming in is enough to have you urging Soobin to hurry, the two of you slipping out from the back and into the night sky. 

It’s foggy and humid as the pavement beneath you is still wet from the rainfall, and you’re far too surprised the moment that Soobin forces the two of you to take off into a sprint— quietly sneaking behind buildings and homes of those who are peacefully asleep. 

“Did you come here on foot?!” You hiss, your arm beginning to take a toll on you as your energy begins to seep out— you can hear the familiar clammer of hooves on the streets as Yeonjun’s people begin their search, only half the size as the others were left to protect their leader. 

“Of course not,” Soobin scoffs, and it isn’t long before you spot a horse tied to the post of a closed shop, “Just stationed myself at a safer distance.” 

The horse is sleek and taken care of— all of its equipment is pristine and expensive as Soobin assists you on, ignoring your protests and groans of pain as he scoots up closer behind you. 

“Grab on tight, pretty thing,” he says, gripping onto the reins as his thighs close around yours, “might be a bit of a bumpy ride.”

You don’t get another chance to adjust before he’s taking off, your body pressed against his as you feel the exhaustion of it all begin to take a toll on you. Your shirt is soaked and sticky— yet the pain has dulled down significantly as you fight to stay alert, unsure of what Soobin is planning as you race down empty, lonelier streets. 

The homes slowly become sparse— before you know it, you’re surrounded by trees, the terrain switching from pavement to the unstable grounds of the forest. The ride could almost be considered calming— that is, until a sudden gunshot has your eyes snapping wide open, stiffening up against Soobin’s chest as he commands his horse to go faster. 

“Stupid fucker found us,” Soobin grits, glancing back at the single person who managed to keep track of Soobin and your whereabouts. His shots are getting increasingly closer, and Soobin’s horse can only go so fast— before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching at his hip with your uninjured arm, taking the gun from his holster before you’re twisting dangerously to face back. 

“Hey, hey!” The sound of a gun being fired so close to his ear has Soobin losing control of his horse for a second, sending you a glare that would immediately make anyone wilt. But you ignore it, stretching out your good arm as you attempt to fire at the person chasing you once more, “watch it, are you crazy? You’re gonna fall!” 

You’re practically ready to slip off with the way you’re forced to twist around, Soobin’s arm flying to secure itself on your waist as you two go over a rocky spot— the sudden movement makes you wince as you miss another shot.

“I don’t have infinite bullets either now!” He says, sneaking a glance back before he’s back to rushing his horse, “you better aim right if you’re gonna hit him!” 

“I’m trying!” You bark, gritting your teeth at his insults, “it’d help a lot if you’d shut up!”

You can tell he’s getting ready to say something— but he holds back, cursing under his breath as his grip on your waist secures. Slowly, you take a deep breath; it’s hard to spot your target in such a dark forest, but as you attempt to take a moment to concentrate, you’re finally able to get a clear shot— the relief that floods through you is unexpected as you slump against Soobin’s hold.

“Easy there, don’t go all soft on me either,” he says, twisting you back around before he’s caging you in; he feels warm, the feeling oddly welcomed as exhaustion threatens to creep up on you. Attempting to fight it back, you find it to be much more persistent than before— which is why you feel a tinge of panic when your eyelids become uncontrollably heavy. 

“Just a little bit more,” you hear Soobin say, his voice a muffled mess to your ears, “I’ll patch you up then.”

With the ride much calmer than it was moments ago, you finally find it in yourself to rest. 

✩ ☆ ✩

“Here, slowly,” Soobin’s bed is soft as he slowly guides you down on it, attempting to ignore the way you wince in pain from the awkward angle your arm remains in. He quickly leaves to get supplies to patch you up, and you take a moment to regain your composure. 

It’s strange— his home is cozy, well-decorated, and clearly used a lot. For someone like him, you’d expect something more barren; he has no pictures, no true personal touches that could link this small cabin to him— but it’s intimate nonetheless, the smell of him filling the air and mixing in with the faint scent of a candle that sits at his nightstand. 

You don’t get much of a chance to look around as Soobin quickly returns— his jacket and hat have been discarded, and you take in his appearance as you wince at the state of his white button-up; now coated red on the right side with your blood. Meeting his eyes, you frown— his dyed hair is ruffled messily as he lays down his supplies next to you, placing down a short stool before he’s sitting down in front of you, knees knocking your legs open carelessly as he situates himself between them.

“Your shirt— here, let me…” Slowly, he moves to cut the sleeve for better access; you stop him midway, your uninjured hand hesitantly reaching for the buttons of your shirt instead. 

You really don’t have to, you hear him mumble, slightly panicked, but you shake your head, knowing it’d be much easier for you to take the item off than to have him struggle with the fabric around your injury. It’s quiet, your eyes much more focused on a point behind him as you carefully shrug off your sullied shirt— he’s quick to assist you, his gentle hands brushing against the warm skin of your shoulders as he places the shirt to the side. 

Shakily, your eyes meet his; his eyes are focused as they take in the state of your wound, brows furrowed and his lip caught in his teeth as he winces at how messy the injury has become. It’s oddly tense— you haven’t been this close to Soobin in a long time, quiet and vulnerable as you allow him to take care of you. 

Sweat begins to bead on your skin as he begins to take a hold of your arm, examining the wound once more before he begins the process of trying to take the bullet out— a small warning is all you get before he offhandedly points at a pillow nearby for you to hold onto. 

Instead, your hand immediately finds purchase on his thigh— it’s instinctive, and you don’t stop to gauge his reaction as your fingers hold on desperately, gritting your teeth as you bear the uncomfortable feeling of Soobin taking out the bullet.

It’s quiet, but you can hear soft words of praise and reassurance fall from his lips, kind words that serve to encourage you as he finally takes the small bullet out; the piece is carefully put onto a tissue that is left to be discarded. You attempt to remain silent as he cleans your injury, clearing off the dried blood that ran down your arm as he softly brushes the wet cloth against your skin. It isn’t until you’re all clean that he begins to apply alcohol to it as well. 

“Shit— sorry,” you grit, startled by the sudden sting as he immediately pulls away, whispering an apology of his own before hesitantly tending to you again. After a moment, your body becomes relaxed in his hold once more, allowing him to gain the confidence to tend to you freely again. 

The stitches don’t feel too bad; he’s awful skilled, the action quick and effortless as you keep quiet through it all, the feeling of the gauze wrapping around your bicep and applying subtle pressure to your wound finally giving you the relief you didn’t know you needed. 

Soobin looks more at ease as well— and before you can pick up on what he’s doing, he’s taking your uninjured hand gingerly, his fingers delicate as he holds onto your wrist lightly. The cloth in his hand is warm as he wipes you with it, thoroughly taking each of your fingers as he wipes off all the blood that managed to cake on; then, it slowly moves up to your face, cleaning off the blood of someone unknown as your eyes meet Soobin’s; your lips part as you stare at him, unsure of what to do as he remains concentrated on his task.

He looks so different from before— there’s a heavy look in his eyes, as though the life he’s lived has been filling itself with nothing but regrets. And as you take in the way his hand lingers, carefully caressing your cheek, you wonder bitterly if this was one of them.

“Why are you doing all this?” You ask, your voice much softer than you expected it to be— there’s no more energy to be malicious to him, only exhaustion and a burning curiosity left in you as you watch him hesitate to answer. 

“I couldn’t let them take you like that,” he says, a frown settling on his features as he slowly pulls away— the absence of his touch feels jarring, your hand curling into a fist as you listen to him speak, “they would’ve used you to get what they wanted from me.”

“What, too scared that I would’ve caught you?” You quip, oddly angered that even now, all he can think of is himself. You don’t know why the words feel so poisonous on your tongue, the anger that ignites inside you only stirring more as you watch the way he becomes angered by your accusation. 

“They would have a hold of my greatest weakness,” he grits out, as though admiring it aloud brings him another wave of anger. His eyes stare at the tight fist that rests on your thigh— then they meet yours, narrowed and pointed as his lips turn down in distaste.

“You.” 

The word feels like a punch to the stomach— you can feel the air leave your lungs as you stare at him, unsure of what to make out of his words as he stares at you with that same fire in his eyes, a fire that is unwilling to back down on his claim.

His greatest weakness— you. And he would be damned if he let Yeonjun of all people lay their hands on you, free to do as they pleased as they used you for leverage— or worse, used you to kill him. 

“Stop spouting nonsense,” you say, an unknown rage blooming within you as he regards you with such a fire, “you showed me just how much you cared the day you turned your back to our work and all we stood for.”

The memory is enough to leave a bitter taste on your tongue; you can tell the mention of it is enough to have him back down like a wounded puppy, unsure of how to respond to that. 

You trusted Soobin, once— and you learned your lesson when he pushed you out of his life, turning to a life of shadows as your partner you once trusted your life with became no better than the everyday criminals you went after. The humiliation of it all set deep into your bones— a deep grudge that reared its head even now, when Soobin seemed to be ready to come back to ask for forgiveness. 

“___,” the sound of your name on his lips is bittersweet. His effect on you is unrivaled, a fact you wish wasn’t true as you attempt to hide the way the sound sends electric shocks through you. He’s somber, his eyes searching yours in hopes of breaking through and finding an emotion akin to his, “you have no idea how much I cared.” 

“I have full access to the vault.” His words clear your mind out effortlessly, “I’m the heir.”

The heir to the fortune— the new leader of the crime syndicate Kim Namjoon spent years building up under the shadows. The man before you was not who he claimed to be— he never was. Hesitantly, he takes your hand— he’s shaky, fingers lacing with yours as he leans into you, long legs knocking against yours as the space he made for yourself becomes wider. There’s a new emotion that coats his face, free and unadulterated as he looks deeply into your eyes.

“Join me.” His words are breathy as you stare at him, confused, angry, hesitant. “You’ll never have to worry about anything again— I could care for you.”  

Your hand feels like fire in his— you pull away like you’ve been burned, disbelief on your face as Soobin stares at you like a scolded child, doe eyes soft and shining under the soft lights of the lamp on his nightstand. 

“I—“ it’s hard to speak— why is it so hard? The words are stuck on your tongue as you stare at him, the man you cared for so deeply, offering a chance to start over. A chance you’ve dreamed about since the day he disappeared from you, a chance that you never allowed yourself to properly hope for, and it’s finally being presented to you.

“I can’t.” 

Soobin knew your answer before he asked— there was never any other option for you. But the pain, the confusion you feel building within you is much more unexpected, your mind fogging as the reality of it all begins to set in. 

“This whole time…” you begin, brows furrowed as the conflicting emotions form a torrent within you, wild and uncontrollable as your mouth enables them to be let loose. 

“You knew everything. What his group was doing, where he was, how to catch him—“ your eyes flick back to his, wounded and sharp in hopes of getting him to the same level as you, “you knew it all. Yet you lied in my face, led me on whenever I thought we finally had a lead.” 

“And yet you beg me to believe that you still care for me?” 

He shakes his head, reluctant to give up as he attempts to reassure you again. 

“I’m sorry— I wasn’t in control of my life back then. I never meant to hurt you,” his attempts to dissuade your feelings are futile, for his claims do nothing but egg you on even more. 

“The moment I leave this cabin,” you growl, glaring at him as you speak, “we will be nothing more but enemies. Forget everything about me. You’ll become my one target from this moment on.” 

A new resolve has formed on your face— Soobin knows you’ll never hate him more than you do now. 

“Your life will be in my hands.”

“The moment you leave this cabin…” he whispers, determined to see you crack, for even a small moment longer, “I will no longer hold back on you. My sweet killer…” 

He’s so close— why would you let him get so close? His lips are practically brushing against yours, eyes lidded and low as he leans towards you, your head tilted down as his puppy eyes continue to shine, even now. 

“Give me one last memory to keep of you.” 

The feeling of your lips crashing against his is unexpected; but the anger inside you is too hot, too rapid for you to simply leave like this. You’ve lived your life filled with regrets— what’s one more going to do to you?

Soobin’s hum of surprise is muffled by your kiss that threatens to take him whole— your yearning, so eager and greedy, is like a switch to him; he’s chasing after you, leaning into your touch desperately as his hands meet the skin of your bare waist. His touch leaves a trail of fire, caressing and smoothing out the skin as he feels every scar, sees every bruise, any detail that he might be able to ingrain into his mind. 

Your back sinks into the mattress— you’re unsure of when Soobin decided to become so greedy, the kiss rough as he allows himself to bite at your lip, his hair soft against your face as a trail of kisses and marks are left along the column of your neck. His touch will be left for weeks to come— he’s determined to make it so, determined to make you have to face your reflection and the memory of him, the memory of his want for you. 

Tangled limbs, pressure against your body— the act is messy and desperate as Soobin has half the mind to leave your injured arm as undisturbed as possible, supporting his weight on one arm as he allows the other to explore your body; trailing up your waist, fingers tracing along the expanse of your chest, ready to take your bra off with ease. Your hand is careless as it rips away his buttons, desperate to have him the same way he has you. 

His chest is smooth and sturdy— his muscles are firm under your touch, honey skin littered with bruises and scars that have your fingertips tracing along them, briefly wondering what stories might belong with them, the memories he carries engraved within him. 

His hips are slotted desperately between yours; you didn’t realize how he was able to get into such a position so easily, his hand already venturing from your breasts to cup your face, hovering above you as he whispers to you, his voice breathy and sultry that it takes effort to listen to what he says. 

“I’ve wanted to have you like this longer than I can remember,” he says, his eyes meeting yours and conveying words his mouth refuses to speak. Close. Needy. Vulnerable. “It hurts to think that I’ll be losing you again after this.” 

If you had any fight with his words, it died the moment his hips rolled firmly into yours. The breath that escapes him is shaky and labored, and he’s unable to control himself as he finds his mind loosening, words spilling beyond his comprehension as the pressure of his body against yours makes you rock back into him. 

“I’ll be damned if I ever let Yeonjun have you like this,” he says, fingers digging into your hips as his thrusts become harsh, uncalculated, and desperate, “I would’ve killed him.”

A small groan leaves your mouth at that— his eyes that once sparkled under the light, pleading for forgiveness, hardened into something foreign, wild and needy as he took what he could from you, the feeling of him hard and pulsing against you making your head fog with need.

Adjusting his position, he stands— you feel your body moving along with him, hips dangling dangerously over the bed as he holds you there, hands already working to get your pants undone.

“What makes you think he would’ve done any of that?” You ask, breathless as his sharp eyes meet yours, filled with an emotion you hesitate to pinpoint. 

“That man would fuck anything that moves,” Soobin growls, your body bare before him as he begins to kneel, your legs thrown over his shoulders carelessly as you gulp at the action, “I can’t imagine what he’d do to a pretty thing like you.”

He’s good at rendering you speechless— that is, if his mouth sucking firmly on your clit had anything to do with it. He’s desperate, eager to have you fall apart on his tongue as he feels your body jolt at the stimulation, a hand grabbing at his hair to bring him closer still. 

His fingers that slip through your entrance has your mouth falling open and your eyes fluttering shut, a small whimper slipping out of you as he groans, his mind reeling at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, pulling him in and asking for more. 

Soobin can’t help but wonder how you would feel wrapped around his cock, your arousal like an aphrodisiac to him as he finds himself growing needier, tongue messily laving at your clit as his fingers speed up the process, thick and long as a third soon finds its way inside. 

Your body is tensing quickly; the pleasure is overwhelming, the sight of having Soobin kneeling before you, desperate and lost in your pleasure as his eyes flutter open, meeting yours boldly has your thighs squeezing around his head uncontrollably. Your hips are left in his control as his hands grip onto them tightly, forcing you into him even more as his warm lips wrap around your clit once more, sucking and tongue flicking at the bud in hopes of feeling you fall apart in his hold. 

Unexpectedly, his name leaves your lips; it’s a sweet mewl that has him painfully aware of how hard he’s become, the bulge constricting against the fabric of his pants as he can only listen to the sweet sounds you make—and hope that he’ll have you coming apart on his cock soon as well. 

Your hips buck against his face mindlessly— it’s too much, yet not enough, his fingers thrusting roughly and curling to hit that spot that makes you see stars. The pleasure is hot and blinding as you feel it beginning to build up, your mouth agape as moans and cries to keep going cascade through you like a waterfall. 

His name becomes a prayer on your lips. Soobin. Soobin, please, you whimper, your good hand reaching down to tangle itself into his hair once more. His touch is addictive, and before you can realize what’s happening, you’re coming undone, his pace never faltering as he allows you to ride it out, your hips rolling carelessly on his face. 

You’re left a panting and weak mess in Soobin’s hold, your head sinking back into the mattress as you feel his fingers slowly slip out of you— a weak whine escapes you as his tongue cleans you up, running along your slit and teasing your entrance before he’s parting from you. Your head tilts as your eyes meet his, his eyes blown out and filled with lust as his tongue and lips slowly wrap around his fingers— cleaning your essence off it slowly, your mind swirling at the sight as you quickly find your pussy clenching desperately against nothing. 

 “My pretty girl,” he sighs out, his fingers making quick work of undoing his jeans, “you have no idea how badly I wanted to take you with me all this time. Years ago, throughout all this time, even today.”

He’s painfully hard as his cock finally springs into view— his hand is quick to wrap around it, his tip leaking and flushed as a thumb runs over it; his body jolts at the feeling, slowly fucking into his fist as his eyes don’t leave yours for a second. 

“Why didn’t you?” You breathe out, legs locking around his waist and pulling him eagerly. Your thighs are so warm and soft around him, his tip teasing your entrance as he fucks himself against your pussy, never pushing through enough to enter you. He can feel your wetness coating him, fogging his mind as his own arousal mixes with yours, the sight so dirty and desperate that he feels his hips buck in need. 

“I don’t know. I should’ve begged you for forgiveness the moment I first saw you,” his words, you realize, are genuine— your lidded eyes clear for a moment, and the conflicting emotions from before attempt to rear their head once more. You gulp, words dying on your tongue as his tip begins to prod at your entrance. 

“Beg for it now. Apologize,” you breathe out, a hand placing itself over his as his head snaps up to meet your gaze. Your nails dig into his forearm as your thighs lock around him, your gaze angry and demanding as you roll your hips into him in frustration, “since you seem so desperate for me.” 

His gaze softens— hesitantly, his lips part, tongue running over them as his tip finally breaches inside you. The stretch is unexpected, your walls immediately closing around him and attempting to pull him in as he subtly leans towards you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Your arm slides from his forearm to his bicep— you’re pulling him in, his other arm coming down to support his weight as he leans over you. This is only the beginning, your eyes say, sharp and narrowed as you prompt him to continue. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, slowly pushing inside you as he stops to allow you to feel every vein, every detail, rubbing along your warm walls and curving as his hips buck unintentionally. 

“I was a fool to leave you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since,” it’s sincere, you can see it in the way his expression furrows as he continues talking, frustration laced in his voice as his hips finally meet yours, pressing firmly as he bottoms out. 

Your fingers dig into the skin of his bicep— roughly, you pull him down, his face hovering above yours, dangerously closer as you watch his adam’s apple bob nervously. You don’t have to say anything— the fire in your eyes is more than enough for him, the room silent save for the sounds of your breaths that intertwine as his hips slowly begin to move, barely pulling out as he relishes in the feeling of being inside you. 

“I’m terrified of losing you again,” he admits, his confession shifting into unknown territories as his mind fogs up once more, “I’m sorry I couldn’t face you sooner.”

You say nothing— all you can do is scan his expression, his eyes that are lidded and filled with so many dangerous emotions. In response, your fingers tangle themselves in his hair— bringing him down to you as your lips meet him in a hungry kiss. 

His hips don’t hesitate to pick up the pace; the feeling of you clenching around him is driving him mad, his cock managing to hit a spot that has your mouth falling open, lips left victim to Soobin’s teasing bites, the feeling of his teeth sinking into the bottom flesh making you whimper uselessly against him.

He may be the one that’s pounding into you restlessly, leaving your mind blank and his name on your tongue, but you’re the one that truly has him intoxicated. He wants to feel you, all of you, your chest that rubs against his driving him mad as he becomes hyper-aware of how much he can feel you against him. You’re practically sinking into the bed with the force he drives himself into you, skin slapping against skin and his pelvis smacking against yours as your arousal only increases with every action. 

He’s wrapped tightly around your finger, and the last thing he wants to do is let go. 

“___,” your name is like honey on his lips, the sound of it rolling off his tongue so effortlessly that he can’t help but find himself saying it again, and again, a mantra of his own as he feels the way you recklessly fuck back into him, nails digging into his shoulder before they’re scratching down his back— the stinging sensation that’s left behind only serves to spur him on, the thought of having your scars on his body for days to come driving him mad. 

“I don’t want you to think of anyone else,” he says, breathless against you as your arm throws itself over his shoulders, fingers tangling themselves in his hair as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. 

“Think of me every time you look at yourself in the mirror, when you see the places I touched,” his hand trails down to your hip, fingers squeezing the supple flesh before it moves to circle your clit, your legs tightening against him before you're bucking your hips wildly, “when you touch yourself, wish it were me that was there for you.“

“No one will ever be able to care for you like I do.”

His cock is abusive against the spot that drives you wild. It reaches it with ease, hitting it thrust after thrust. One, twice, three times. Then you’re coming undone, a weak whimper all you can manage as you wrap around him like a vice. It’s enough to set him off as well, a soft groan escaping him as his hips struggle to keep a proper rhythm. Your bodies move together in harmony regardless, riding out each other’s highs as the warm feeling of his cum fills you, never-ending as it slowly begins to leak out before he’s fucking it back into you.

It’s silent, and neither of you can muster anything to say as you’re both catching your breath; Soobin’s face quickly buries itself into your neck, his lips ghosting along your skin as he speaks. 

“Stay,” he pleads, arms slowly circling your waist before you’re pulled into him, warm and secure in his hold. “Just for tonight. Stay a while longer.”

Softly, his head moves along your shoulder, his hair feather-like as it brushes against you. His lips graze a trail along, leaving a gentle kiss on the shoulder of your injured arm. 

“After tonight,” you breathe out, your hand traitorous as it caresses his scalp gently, the memories of your past and your moments together reviving a dangerous feeling, “I’ll forget everything about you— we’ll be nothing more than enemies.”

Softly, Soobin nods; his gaze never meets yours, the two of you adjusting in his bed as he allows you to rest on his chest. You’re a pile of tangled limbs, hearts beating in one as you wonder if you could’ve had this years ago, free of complicated emotions and regrets. 

“If I am to die by anyone’s hands, it will only be yours,” he says, hand encasing yours as he brings it to rest over his heart. “Promise me it will be so.” 

A game of death— you’ve always been incredible at your job, and there hasn’t been a single mission you haven’t completed. But, feeling him under your palm, warm and beating for you, you find the words stuck in your throat for a moment. 

“I promise.”

The cabin falls into complete silence as the feeling of you finally in his arms lulls Soobin into a deep sleep; he’ll think of this night for years to come, if he’s able to.

His words are nothing but a lie— he’ll never be able to forget you. 

And after tonight, neither will you. 

[tubareads]

Such a goooooood story. I’m an absolute sucker for Simp Soobin. Like, the desperations just has me weak in the knees 😭😭😭 Also, very curious about the whole ending with Yeonjun, excited to see what happens next with their relationship

please, noona // c.sb

summary; your brother forbids you from talking to any of his friends when they come over. in his words, you'd seduce them and take away their 'innocence' as if you were a witch in hunt for dick every second of the day. he's especially strict about soobin, his similarly nerdy best friend that comes over every other day to play games.

which sucks because that meant you had to be stuck in your room very often...until beomgyu finally leaves to quickly buy some snacks.

warnings; perv!soobin, titty sucking, soobin's sorta a himbo, noona kink, big useless dick, dry humping (is it a hyewka fic without dry humping???) soobins obsessed with tits, creampie, mentions of a breeding kink, soobin cums a lot, use of pet names, and of course sub!soobin + brief appearance of ex!yeonjun

You never understood why you had to be the one locking yourself in a room as if you weren't the one paying rent, and out of the kindness of your heart, let your hobo brother freeload off you. He should've been the one staying in his room instead of hogging the living room with his loser friends, but alas, you took the the role of the older sister, and let the boy do his shenanigans (for as long as your patience can handle, which you now think won't be very long).

Today was one of those days where you got comfortable on your couch, every limb of your body relaxing, in your pajamas that consisted of a lousy tank top and shorts. You don’t get these days often, most of your time spent wearing ugly work pantsuits. But of course, the comfort doesn’t last long—all of a sudden, Beomgyu's yelling for you to go to your room because someone's coming over. Again.

You’re about to take your stance, because fuck that, but he pulls you up like the little bitch he is and pushes you into a room, shutting the door before you could say another word.

"Fuck you Beomgyu! I swear to fucking god I'll kick your ass to the curbs tomorrow!" you yell at the closed door.

"No you wouldn't!" he yells back, and you raise a trembling fist in the air as if he could see, gritting your teeth, but drop it when you realize the little damned troll was right. You wouldn't go through with your promise any time soon, let alone tomorrow— you coddled your little brother too much.

When you defeatedly turn around, you immediately notice he put you in the wrong room, which pisses you off more. His room. The place was gross, clothes you're sure haven't been washed in ages discarded all around the room. Mostly on the floor.

You tiptoe to the bed, trying to avoid as much of the dirty underwear and socks, hesitantly sitting on his bed as if it was infested with bugs. Which was likely.

What you usually spend your time doing at times like these is a mindless scroll through your social media, effectively ignoring the unread messages. But when you pat around for a feel of your phone, you find your pockets are empty. You throw your head back, groaning. You left it on the couch because of how haste Beomgyu was being.

Sometimes a nap would do when he took too long to call it a day with his friends. This time, you almost fall asleep staring at the poster on the ceiling, until you figure out the voices that transcended through your walls. It was only Beomgyu and Soobin today, which meant that this might take the entire day.

Fucking great.

"It's down the street, I think." you open a shut eye, eavesdropping in what your brother was saying. Were they finally leaving? "Wait, hold on, I'll come back."

It's silent until suddenly, the door's pushed open, Beomgyu poking his head in. His brows are furrowed, one of confusion, "Why're you in my room?" You want to yell he pushed you into his shit bedroom but he shakes his head quickly, cutting off your incoming scolding,  like he was in a hurry. "Ya noona, that local convenience store's still open right?"

You roll your eyes. "Lotte mart? That's not local."

He deadpans. One thing about younger siblings was that they are impatient little shits. "Yeah, it's still open." you reply.

Not even a thanks, and he's gone. Which you expected— the exact reason you lied. They closed the location a few weeks back. He'd have to walk to the other closest convenience store, which was at least an hour away.

Serves him right.

The moment you hear the door closing shut, you get up from the bed, immediately heading out of the suffocating bedroom, and head to the living room to retrieve your phone. You don’t expect to see Soobin still there, focused on his phone—assuming he was going to head out with Beomgyu.

He senses someone’s here, so curiously he looks up and meets your eyes, then his widen like he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“H-hi noona.” he quips.

You wave, giving him a quick smile– you definitely found him adorable …but you weren’t in the mood to get scolded by Beomgyu for talking to the boy. So you keep it short, walking to get your phone which rested on the arm rest to the right of Soobin.

“Hey Soobin. Just here to get my phone.”

He tucks his chin in at the proximity when you reach over him to grab your phone—you can even hear him gulp. Probably because your tits were hanging right in front of him. You give him a quick glance, tilting your head after you successfully retrieve your phone in hand.

Unfortunately, he was adamant on keeping his eyes on the TV screen, which had a game paused, so he practically stared into nothingness. You wish you had guys as cute as Soobin when you were attending college. Instead you were stuck with cocky frat boys who expected a fuck after getting you a shitty drink.

“You’re leaving?”

You halt before looking over your shoulder, “Yeah, taking a nap.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah…um, goodnight—I mean, have a good sleep, or sorry, have a good nap.”

You break into a grin, nodding at the boy. What a loss that he just had to be friends with Beomgyu.

Your legs still midway into the narrow hallway.

You don't have to lock yourself in your room. Beomgyu was gone. In fact, he'll be gone for the next three hours and that wasn’t in account of his turtle-like pace, if your estimation was correct.

You’re a data analyst for a living, of course your estimation’s correct.

So, you go back, trace your steps, and make yourself comfortable. On your own couch, in your own apartment. It’s ridiculous how rare you got the chance to do just that.

Soobin doesn’t ask questions, but he does end up straightening his posture the moment you plop down next to him. “Can you pass me the remote?” You gesture towards it with your chin.

He nods, quickly getting it for you. You hesitantly take it from him, feeling bad. Poor boy, it’s like you were making him uncomfortable with your presence. So you give him a break, scooting away, making the gap between you both awkwardly big.

“You don’t mind me watching, right?” you look at his face for a response. You could totally drop your show if he didn’t want to sit through it– you wanted to give him the option. Though to be fair, knowing Soobin as much as you did (which was admittedly limited, but he was easy to read), you’re sure he’d let you watch even if he did mind.

Which is exactly what happens as he shakes his head, “No, no, it’s okay.” You peer at him before shrugging and opening Netflix.

Unfortunately, as much as you try your best to focus on the drama, Soobin’s polite posture and silence bothers you. Usually, whenever the rare occasion of bumping into Beomgyu’s friends in the hallway happens, they try to strike up a conversation. But Soobin was rather…modest. Too modest.

You pause the show.

“Soobin.” With his name called, he immediately looks over at you. “You know you can talk to me right? I'm not the evil witch my brother paints me as, I promise.”

His eyes are wide, waving his hand in denial, still as formal as ever. “No, it’s—it’s not like that Noona! I know. I know I can talk to you, I mean. Beomgyu tells me you’re nice.” You tilt your head– you doubt that was true.

But you don’t bother. “Oh. Okay, great!” you pull up your legs on the couch, turning your full body to face him. “So, tell me Soobin, are you an introvert?”

He seems startled, like he didn’t expect you to actually start a conversation but it doesn’t last long as he nods meekly. “Y-yeah, sort of.”

“Mm, makes sense. You don’t really make eye contact when talking.” The moment the realization hits Soobin, you huff out a laugh at how fast he turns his head to look at you, his ears noticeably red.

“S-sorry Noona.”

You click your tongue, a little disappointed at how he was still so formal with you. “You don’t have to be so formal, you know? I’m only like, three years older than you.” It takes him a few seconds before he nods, though you could tell by the appearance of a dimple, that he wasn’t going to let the formal language go.

Oh well. You’ll work with it. “So, Soobin. Question. How come you’re a completely different person when playing games? You’re loud, but when in a conversation, your voice is as soft as it can be humanely hearable.”

He’s noticeably embarrassed as his face flushes. “You–you heard me?”

You chuckle, “It’s a little hard not to.”

Soobin isn’t louder than Beomgyu, but was very darn close. Which is a feat considering someone two floors above you came over to complain about Beomgyu once.

“I’m sorry, I–I don’t mean to. I’ll be careful next time.”

You furrow your brows, before lightly slapping his shoulder. “Hey, stop apologizing. I’m just joking around, I really don’t mind. Sort of already used to it.”

“Still—”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “Let’s talk about something else. Um…oh! Do you have a girlfriend?” you teasingly drawl the girlfriend bit like a middle school boy, in attempt of making him a tinge more comfortable.

He’s meek again, biting the inside of his cheeks before he lets out a quiet no.

You gasp at the revelation, a hand shooting up over your mouth. “But you’re so handsome! How come?”

You definitely played it up a bit— you weren’t that shocked that he wasn’t dating considering how often he came over and how long he stayed.

He gets flustered once more, and finally, a small smile appears. “I don’t know. Probably because I’m horrible at flirting. And probably not that handsome.”

You pout, “Not that handsome? ’M being completely honest, I think you’re the cutest guy I’ve seen in a while.”

He flushes, playing with his hands. “Yeah... cute not handsome”

You got closer to him somehow so you’re able to give him a light nudge. “Handsome too idiot.”

He smiles, looking at you with so much adoration you could just pinch his cute cheeks.

The entire time you spend talking to him felt a little more chill, his posture relaxing along with the flow of conversation being a little more natural— though you still carried it most of the time.

You found out he liked a number of things. Anime, manga, collecting figures, obviously gaming. All things you usually assumed to be a little nerdy, but it was cute how he lit up talking about his favorites regardless. You find out he’s majoring in chem too, which you would have never guessed.

You also find out Soobin might just be the most obvious peeker; truly terrible at being discreet.

You really had a hard time not laughing every time you caught his eyes so obviously looking down at your cleavage, which you forgot was so revealing through the tank top you wore. More than once does he subconsciously wet his lips before he tries to pretend like he was listening to you talk.

You understand why Soobin was friends with Beomgyu rather quickly. Most of Beomgyu’s friends were greasy pervert losers. Soobin not any different, you figured. Except it was cute on him.

"Beomgyu said you had a boyfriend.” he mumbles, the longest eye contact he’s held with you the entire time you’ve been talking to him.

You tilt your head. "…I don't? I haven't dated anyone since Yeonjun." at his silence, you figure he's not one of your girlfriends who knew the ins and outs of your dating history, "Which was four months ago."

His lips form an O shape, nodding slowly.

"Did you ask him? Why? Were you curious?" you tease, and enjoy the way Soobin stumbles on his words, cheeks quickly running hot. "N-no, he just told me."

You hum knowingly. Before you know it, you ramble about another topic but like the shameless boy he is, you catch how his eyes trail down again. This time, you decide to end it, it’s clear he wanted something so you clear your throat. The conversation was slowly dying anyway.

His eyes snap back up almost immediately, cheeks still a bright shade of pink. “Um s-so…”

“I was talking about my favorite boba place just now.” His iris panics before he chuckles nervously, “Y-yeah. That.”

You smile looking down at his hands and take a notice of how big they are. Your finger trails to one, fingertip running circles on his palm.

He’s startled by the sudden contact, but doesn't pull away immediately. “Girls at school would probably ruin that pretty face of yours if they caught you staring at their tits so openly.”

His eyes shoot wide open, pulling his hands from you like you just poured boiling water on it. “I wasn't–”

You cut him off. “I should've counted but it was probably a hundred times I've seen you look, pervert.”

His face is so red, he truly looked like a tomato. You also catch the glistening of his waterline, his lower lip quivering. “I'm sorry Noona please don't be mad I—“

“Good thing I'm not a girl from school, huh?" You're quick to stop his rambling, not in the mood to be the cause of someone's tears. "Do you want to see them?”

His brows perk up almost immediately, the crease of his forehead apparent, doe eyes looking at you so intently.

“My tits. Wanna see them?”

He nods profusely before he shoots up a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god, was that a trick question? I’m sorry—”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Adorable.” you coo, booping his nose. He frowns at that.

"I'm not a kid noona, you always—" he cuts himself off when you grip the hem of your tank top, pulling them over your bare breasts swiftly, showing them to the younger boy. You relish in his reaction, ends of your lips twitching up at the way his mouth falls open, licking them as he openly stares.

God, he was such a pervert.

“Can I...can i—" his words fall dry.

“You wanna touch?”

“Please noona.”

You shrug. He scoots closer, cold hand hesitant on your breasts, sending goosebumps on your skin with the touch. “Soobin, its okay, you can touch them”

He prepares both hands above your breasts before finally holding them. He feels by a few squeezes and then he starts playing, fondling like he's never seen a pair before.

His breathing gets heavier the rougher he squeezes, and especially when his thumb glazes over your nipple, which is the confirmation you got.

He was a total loser.

You hold his wrist, getting Soobin to stop, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he slowly pulls away, wiping the slight drool on the corner of his lips. “Was I too rough—?”

"A little, but I don't mind." You get on him, straddling his lap. Soobins big eyes look up at you, gulping at the possibility that you'll let him do what he thinks you'll let him do.

You feel the bulge between your legs and laugh. "You got hard from touching me? Big baby."

He frowns, "I'm not a baby."

"Oh really?" You grab the back of his head, and shove his face between your chest. Sure enough, Soobin's mouth already latches onto one of your nipples, starting to suck. "See? You're such a filthy pervert, already sucking the moment I give you the chance."

He's stupid enough to muffle out a thank you as if letting him suck was like handing him water at deserted desert. Your shirt is over his head as his face was buried in between your chest, spit already all over it— he was incredibly messy. A bead of sweat breaks out, running down his forehead.

You're startled when he goes over to your left breast, not letting it go without attention. His tongue flicks your nipple then he starts sucking harshly making you hiss. “Hey—hey! Soobin, not too rough.”

He doesn't respond nor does he relent, very obviously busy with sucking on your nipple, his other hand having free reign on your chest. You take a hold of his hair and pull him off you, his face coming into full view, lips glistening with spit. He was a mess. "Soobin, be gentle. I'm serious."

He nods and you sigh, his head once again eagerly going under your shirt. His hips start bucking into you, trying to get off, and you're sure your chest is entirely covered with hickeys-- your nipples hard and sore from all his sucking. “Wanna be inside noona, wanna be inside you." he manages to moan, voice muffled against your chest.

You close your eyes shut when you feel his bulge pressed against your clothed slit, moving just slightly to get yourself off a little too. “Yeah? Wanna fuck me?” You feel the earnest nod of his head and it makes you pout fondly. You decide to throw him a bone, you were pretty hot and bothered anyway.

"Okay baby, I'll let you."

You've never had a man be so eager to fuck you, or for better words, be fucked by you. But that could be explained by your dating history being mostly if not all, tatted macho men who liked being nonchalant. Maybe you should fuck losers more often.

By losers, you mean cute ones like Soobin.

His dick looked intimidating when you ordered for him to take it out- the swollen tip, concerningly red, precum already leaking down the veins of his fat dick and... shit that length might break you.

He's visibly embarrassed. “Um, if its too much then you don't have to—“

You position yourself on top of him again, giving him a reassuring smile. "I can take it.”

His eyes are glistening, the living room already dark due to the lack of the previous sunlight-- it was already noon. You figure you like it when guys look up at you like you had the entire world lying on your hand- your brother's best friend's working like an awakening in weird ways.

You finally sink down on him, letting out a sigh the more his length disappears into your cunt, stretching you out all the more, already hitting places you weren't sure would hit.

His pliant head falls back on the couch when he feels the warmth of your pussy- his jaw slacked, drool trickling down his chin as he lets out a strained moan. "Noona, noona I—"

The flaring of his nose is the last hint before you feel his hot semen spurt out inside you, and just when you think it's over, you feel a little more shooting up. You stare at the boy quizzically- you hadn't even moved yet and he already came.

Soobin raises his head, lower lip quivering, so obviously embarrassed by his premature orgasm. "I-i'm sorry noona, I didn't mean to- oh my god, what's gonna happen now? I can't take care of a baby I'm still in c-"

"Woah woah, Soobin, calm your ass, I'm on the pill."

He looks at you silent with a few confused blinks, before letting out an exhale of relief. You're still practically sitting on his dick, but you still find it in you to tease him after his panic ensues, "What? Were you gonna abandon me after impregnating me? Didn't think you'd be the type Soobin. Maybe even good boys can be such bitches."

The panic returns into his eyes as he shakes his head adamantly denying your attack of his character, "No! Noona, I wouldn't do that, I swear! I-i-"

"You what?" you cut him off harshly on purpose, slowly raising yourself to finally ride his twitching cock.

He immediately senses the movement, your attempt of being slow and careful failing. He squeezes his eyes shut, and you hiss disapprovingly. "Answer your noona Soobin, what would you do if you got me pregnant?"

"W-would take care of you." He whines when you fall back on his dick, a staggering breath out his mouth. You're not sure if he could even last a mere five minutes of you riding him.

"Yeah? Open your eyes for me baby."

He does as you say, though his lids are heavy over his eyes. His gaze once again finds your chest lewdly staring at the slight bounce, and before you know it, his hands are kneading your breasts again. "I would pamper you up noona, take you to all the five star restaurants." he breathes out.

You snort at his foolish promises, "With what money idiot? If anything, I'd be the one pampering you up, you're still a college student with student debt. You'd have to start working a lot more if you'd want to pamper me."

His eyes roll back when you speed up your pace on his dick for a brief second, "F-fuck, Noona--"

You feel his cock twitching inside you, and once again, strips of his cum rush into you. You wondered how much before you milked him dry? Because the boy was still as eager as ever, head going forward in attempt to latch his mouth on your nipple again, hips bucking up against your already steady pace. "I'd work ten shifts to provide for you and- mmf-- and our baby noona." he cutely muffles against your nipple.

You laugh—he was as naive as ever, but you appreciated the thought. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Your finger twirls a strand of his black hair, the innocent act in direct opposition of the filthy sound of skin on skin, combined with Soobin's fresh load making it a lot more squelching, that bounced of the walls.

"Soobin, g-good boy, suck my tits like a good boy." Your breathing gets heavier, the way he fills you up is turning out to be a lot more addicting than you thought it'd be. You assumed pain, which yeah, it still was a little painful, but you got used to it very quickly able to start feeling the pleasure overwhelm your senses.

Soobin pulls away from your chest with a pop, slowly raising his head over your shirt to look at you. "Noona?" he calls out with half lidded eyes.

"Yeah?"

"You really don't have a boyfriend right?"

You're caught off guard with the question. Obviously if you had a boyfriend you wouldn't be riding his fucking dick.

He catches your miffed look and is quick to defend himself despite your pussy clenching around him, "I-it's just-hah! Fuck- noona, it's just someone was blowing up your phone earlier- and I didn't mean to peek but- cumming, I'm cumming noona!" he cries out, successfully letting out his words before he actually orgasms.

You had picked up your pace with every word he spoke, attempting to not ruin your own high, and sure enough, you reach it, cumming in unision with Soobin's, your head exhaustedly falling onto his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

Under you, Soobin's body was shaking, still feeling spurts of his cum. "The contact name was Yeonjun."

Your daze snaps, head shooting up at the mention of your ex. "What?"

"He kept on calling so I thought that might've been your boyfriend...but then you told me he was your ex." he replies, voice hoarse you think as a result of his rather loud whines earlier.

"I wasn't lying Soobin, he really is my ex."

"I-i wasn't accusing you of lying it's just...I don't know, I thought that maybe..."

Your subconscious drowns out Soobin's rambling, still confused that Yeonjun was ringing you up in the first place. What for? Did he leave something that he forgot to take four months ago?

That wasn't likely. You remember the day he came over to take his things very vividly. With how urgently he looked, you figured Yeonjun was serious about his belongings.

So, what was it?

With Yeonjun, it was on and off. In a way that surely couldn't be healthy for either party involved. Which is the exact reason you mutually decided to break it off a few months ago, cutting off all contact. You even blocked his socials. Each one. Instagram, snapchat, twitter, facebook.

Except for the most important, most relevant way of contact- his phone number, of course. And look how that decision bit you in the ass. You're totally overthinking why Yeonjun decided to call you, and you will when you go to sleep later today, and then the day after and-

You're not falling down that rabbit hole again.

You start moving your hips again pushing through the uncomfortable feeling. Soobin was less resilient, a disapproving whine coming from the back of his throat when you grind in his lap, his dick still deep inside you rubbing between your walls. "Noona--" he shrieks, when you start bouncing again, this time a lot harshly as you bit down on your lip.

"No more, can't- nng-" you shut up his blabbles by stuffing your breast in his mouth again. Of course it did the job.

"Filthy boy, you'd probably enjoy sucking my tits when I'm lactating."

His teary eyes look up at you, needy and twinkling under the dim light that was the living room. He wasn't denying it. Instead, he swirls his tongue around your bud, clearly getting off the thought.

"Fuck, you really are filthy." you breath out. Speeding up your pace, Soobin's unable to stay latched onto your nipple, jaw-slacked, his brows pointing upwards, unable to urge you to stop. Instead, he helps you out by bucking his hips forward, slamming his dick inside you.

A knock on the door gets you to halt your movement. Soobin still moving erratically under you. But then you slap him gently, trying to get his attention. “I think i heard—“

The knock of the door cuts you off. Facing Soobin with a wide eyed look before you jolt off him, hurriedly looking for your underwear and shorts. You lost track of time, clearly! If Beomgyu finds out you fucked his best friend, you'd be done for. He'd hate you for life. Never talk to you again.

“Soobin hurry the fuck up and go answer!” You shout in a hushed voice, frantically pulling up your shorts.

He nods, the panic contagious as he stumbles around pulling up his pants. You take a second to look over him and you curse under your breath. His cheeks were flushed red, swollen lips glistening with spit, hair strands poking out all over- fuck, he looked bad.

You attempt to pat his hair down, at least to make it a little neater, but a third knock and you're sprinting towards a room, hiding behind your shut door.

You press your ears against your door, hoping to pick up how the conversation was going. A few beats of silence, and you finally hear the unlocking of the door after a few struggling attempts from Soobin.

“Who are you?" you furrow your brows- that wasn't your brother. "Oh wait, are you one of Beomgyu’s friends?”

It was Yeonjun.

At the realization, you crack your door open, trying to peek down the hallway. You didn't have a good view but you figured it'd do.

“Yeah? Who are you?” you hear Soobin ask, his breathing sounding like he just ran a marathon. You squeeze your eyes shut- could he at least try to mask what just happened? Be a little less obvious?

“Tell Y/N for me I came over. Say it was Yeonjun.” You catch the way Yeonjun's eyes visibly look up and down the younger boys state, wondering if he caught on. “Her boyfriend. Tell her her boyfriend came over.”

Soobin bites the insides of his cheeks in attempt to not bark back at the lie, opting to just nod. “Um, yeah, sure.”

Yeonjun nods, flashing him a smile before patting his shoulder. “You look rough buddy, take care.”

Sure enough, Beomgyu shows up right then and you out of instinct close your door shut when you recognize his mop hair. Though it seemed no matter what, you couldn't escape his annoyingly blaring voice. "Oh? Yeonjun? Hey dude, haven't seen you in a while."

Yeonjun greets him like they've been close since forever... which is total bogus, they barely talked. Yeonjun finally excuses himself because he was 'just leaving'. Leaving Soobin and Beomgyu alone.

You once again try to pry in their conversation, praying Soobin could play off the way he looked and you could finally head to the comfort of your bed.

"Sorry I took long, my bitch sister lied to me. Deadass had to walk five hours to get these- You good Soobin? You look sick."

You briefly smirk sinisterly at the fact that you got Beomgyu's ass, but then the cold sweat breaks out again because the stupid fuck noticed! And now, you're impatiently tapping your foot on the floor, awaiting Soobin's response.

"Yeah dude, sorry, um, I-I have to go use the bathroom."

Internally you slap your palm on your forehead- to hell with being convincing. Consequences of choosing Soobin out of all of Beomgyu's friends to fuck you guess.

a/n; feedback (or a reblog) is always appreciated on my end lol need me someone to talk about soobin and his breeding kink because it's definitely there. oh and how hes the biggest boob guy..i dont make the rules 😂 definitely gonna edit this later on because that ending is so incomplete it pisses me off, dont mind me, i'm just totally dead rn.