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k-vanity · 2 hours

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@deoboyznet @k-vanity

Title: Black and Blue

Pairing: Tattooist! Eric X fem reader

Genre: smut ! Non-idol au. Tattooist au!

Warnings ⚠️: pussy eating / pussy drunk Eric! Semi public sex I guess? Swearing/ squirting. reader gets a tattoo. Pet names 'baby / princess / darling '

Word count : 2k

Scene: You go to your boyfriends tattoo shop to get your first ink, Eric can't help himself and is desperate to taste you.

Moots / networks : @tbzhub @blue-rainydays @weareapackofstrays @littleroaes

📝 ! Please remember to REBLOG if you like my work, thank you! 😊

“Are you sure? I can move it again,” Eric asks as you check yourself in the mirror where your boyfriend had placed his stencil on your skin.

You had wanted a tattoo ever since you turned 18 and then moved away from home, started university only to drop out due to the stress and now you find yourself working at the nearby tattoo shop as their receptionist.

There, you met Eric on your 20th birthday when your friends had gone to get a fresh ink and you struck up a conversation with him as your friend lay wincing at the hundred tiny needles piercing her.

Eric is the youngest tattooist in the building, 23 and professionally completed his training around a year prior to tattooing you. The shop, ironically called Black and Blue Tattoos, made a name of itself quite a few years back and your brother had even gotten ink here before.

“No, I like it there,” you say, turning in the mirror to look at the swimming koi fish adorning the back of your left thigh. Eric had personally drawn the piece for you when you spoke about raising koi fish together once you two settled in your new home later. Not that anything was official or anything.

Eric had become frequent in your life by mere chance. The birthday party, the countless errands you ran for your mother when she needed something - Eric always seemed to be at the same place. The grocery store, the petrol station, the cafe down the street where you finally made your move and asked to sit with him.

Eric was chill. A cool guy with a soft outside that always made your heart flutter by just knowing what to say. He says his best friend Sunwoo rubs off on him sometimes due to how ungodly flirty Sunwoo is whenever ever you see him.

“Yeah? Okay then baby,” Eric smirks and bins his gloves for a fresh pair, rolling along the floor on his stool before meeting you at the chair.

“This is my first time tattooing my girl, I hope you don't mind,” Eric teases as you lay face down with your arms around the soft snuggle pet Eric got you for Christmas.

“Mhm, you owe me ramyeon later,” you tease back and Eric makes a faux face of shock.

“My secret stash? But I've worked so hard for that,” he pouts, pouting out the black ink.

You smile and squeeze your plush pillow pet as you watch Eric load up the ink gun.

“I'll get you 5 more,” you chime and Eric smirks over at you.

“Right, it's different for everyone so you might feel prickles or tingly or even just plain old stabbing sensations. You promise to tell me if it gets too much?” He asks, his tone vacant of his usual playfulness as he meets your eyes.

You nod, shifting in the chair.

“I'll tell you. I promise, I think I'll handle it.” You smile back at him and Eric finishes loading the ink gun. He pulls himself over to you on his stool and before he does anything, he leans over and kisses your head.

“Stay as still as you can for me,” he murmurs, and you realise that your boyfriend is in full professional mode. And it's hot.

His gloved hand rubs your upper calf a little before you hear the ink gun whizzing to full power and the first scratch makes a meek gasp pull from your lips.

“Good girl,” Eric's praise washes over you easily as you stay as still as you can, taking a few deep breaths and squeezing your pillow pet. The more Eric tattoos you the more the feeling melts into tiny pinching sensations.

Eric on the other hand felt like his usual, professional and gentle as he can be as he tattoos your skin. You both had discussed that wearing something short and breathable would benefit you as you lay down for a while, and right now Eric has a perfect view of your clothed pussy. Hidden behind your black lace panties and he kept having to dip his head low to focus on the inking of your koi fish.

A few times he'd catch himself staring at you, a blush creeping over his cheeks as he checks you out so hotly it makes a tent pitch in his sweats.

“You're so pretty…” he murmurs suddenly, half way down with the ink.

“Mmm?” You hum out, practically bored out of your mind as you trace the chair with your nail.

“The tattoo.” Eric hums back and you smirk, knowing he's telling a white lie. “Just the tattoo?” You tease and you find what he's so sheepish about.

“Oh? Oh my god, are you hard?” You ask, whisper shouting at him and Eric shakes his head.

“Not much fault when you're lying here looking like a three course meal, princess,” he murmurs back, pulling the gun away to swat your ass playfully.

You giggle, shifting to get comfy again and slightly opening your legs more and you hear Eric making a hissing noise.

“Now you're playing with fire, baby girl.” He stickers, his gloved hand squeezing your thigh and slowly pulling your leg out. Your pussy is getting wet slowly but surely, making you smirk.

“Mm, shouldn't you be focusing on another part of me?” you ask and Eric scoffs.

“I'm nearly done okay?” He says, loading up another ink cartridge and hunches over your leg to better shade the two swimming koi fish.

“And then?” You tease only for Eric to lean over you and kiss the back of your neck, drifting upwards to your ear.

“And then I'm having my meal,” he murmurs quietly. A blush rises to your cheeks and you purse your lips together as the tattoo gun meets your skin again.

It's another 10 minutes of scratching in the details before your boyfriend leans up and motions for you to check yourself out in the full length mirror opposite the chair that's laid out more like a plush but little sofa bed. You hum, stretching as you walk over and turn your back to it. You hike your hip up a little, looking behind you to see the adorable two swimming koi fish on your thigh.

“A man of your craft baby, it's gorgeous!” You exclaim happily, turning back to meet Eric's smug smirk. You head back over to him, resting your hands on his shoulders and you pepper kisses along his cheek.

“Thank you baby,” you whisper and Eric reaches to connect your lips in a soft kiss before he moves away.

After a few moments, Eric finally wraps your thigh gently, thumb ghosting up your inner thigh a few times.

“Mm, all done. You sat really well baby,” he says with a happy chime in his voice. “But~” he drags out the word and you squeak as you're gently pushed onto the leather chair behind you and Eric swiftly parts your legs.

“Eric! We're in your shop-”

“And? Do you wanna wait, baby?” He counters, smirking as you sit up. Eric's hands are splayed over your thigh, gently massaging the skin there and pushing them open.

Your black lace panties can't hide the peak of arousal pooling against the fabric now, Eric has always been a needy lover and much more of a giver than you thought. So when your panties are pulled aside you gasp.

“Come on baby, I want it,” he whines between your legs, adjusting you so your legs hang off his shoulders now. “F-fine, but make it quick I don't want Sunwoo alaking in -” You're cut off by the first swipe of Eric's needy tongue on your pussy, slapping a hand over your mouth as Eric's thumb pulls open tone for your pussy lips to ease his tongue against your hole.

“Mmph fuck~” Eric grunts, pulling you close to himself as he kisses extremely close to your clit that feels like it's buzzing now from how stimulated Eric gets you.

Your boyfriend is in a world of his own as he drags the flat side of his tongue between your slit, tasting you with a dreamy moan that's concealed against your heat. You lose count how many times Eric's wet tongue licks up and down your pussy before he shifts and you moan loudly as Eric's tongue laps at your clit at last.

“Fuck fuck - Eric ~” you moan, muffled by your hand as your thighs shake ever so slightly.

“Mmm, you're so fucking sweet…” Eric grunts, pressing a solid kiss to your clit making you jolt. “Quiet baby, Sunwoo could hear you,” Eric teases, thumbs gently rubbing your pussy now as you arch against the chair and whine at the subtle tease. If you were home, you'd jumped on his dick by now.

“Shu-shut up and eat me, thought you wanted to?”

“Oh darling I will,” Eric smirks between your legs and the sight is so hot you feel your pussy clenching around nothing. He kisses your thighs, working his way back to your pussy again before he pulls your panties further to the side till you gasp. The sound of fabric snapping makes your face grow hot as Eric practically tears your lace apart.

“Eric!” You whisper - shout and yet you're met with another smug smirk.

“I'll buy you a better pair.” Is all your boyfriend mutters before he's lifting you up by your hips slightly and his mouth closes around your fluttering womanhood.

You're trapped between the chair and Eric's mouth as he moans into your now dripping pussy, the wet slurping noise of Eric's tongue licking and suckling your juices makes your body clench up. Your legs slowly begin to hook around him, further pulling him into your sopping core as you grind up onto his wild tongue.

“Fuck ~ fuck ~ “ you moan, biting into your hand a little to quiet yourself as your heels dig into Eric's shoulders to push him closer. And Eric makes a noise of joy as his tongue laps at your hole, slowly curling and unfolding inside your pussy where he moans and grabs your ass to help you grind against him. It's wet and messy, you're sure you're leaking all over the chair.

“‘Ric o-oh my god - e-eric~” you pant above him, humping his face with new found vigour to meet your high. Eric doesn't relent, thrusting his tongue further inside you as if searching for gold, curling and lapping at your walls till your eyes begin to roll at the sweet pleasure sparking at the base of your spine.

It licks at the fire in the pit of your stomach, curling up and drowning your senses in Eric's ministrations. His fingers dig into the plush of your ass, gasping and pulling his tongue free to wrap his lips around your clit to suckle. You arch your back, lifting up from the chair to hold Eric's head down against your pussy in a babble of pleas. He smirks around your nub, licking and teasing it with his tongue before pulling off to kiss it.

“Are you gonna cum for me? You're so wet baby, you're dripping,” Eric smirks, rubbing your pussy before sinking two fingers inside your drippy heat making you moan again.

“Fuck yes please, please make me cum, please please,” you whine, chewing on your lip as Eric practically fingers your heat far too slowly.

“I will baby, you know I will, when have I ever denied you princess ~?” Eric arches a brow and you couldn't care less as you rut against his slow moving fingers and moan as Eric sinks down again. He latches onto your throbbing clit as he begins to pick up his speed, fingers squelching inside you. You curse and smack the chair a little, squirming and shaking but Eric pulls you back to him.

“Oh o-h th-there I - I'm clo-close! Er-eric!” you squeal as Eric's fingers find your sweet spot and relentlessly jabs it. The lazy sucking of his lips around your clit makes you collapse against the chair as you cum with a bitten back moan.

Your legs tremble beside his head, a dam breaking inside you and you spasm slightly with eyes rolled back as you squirt. Eric recoils with a gasp, standing slightly to get a better angle to fuck his fingers inside you for a few more moments. His shirt and mouth are covered in your juices, his fingers and wrist too as you turn to jelly on his chair.

“Fuck! Holy shit baby,” Eric licks his lips and pulls his wet fingers free from your sopping wet hole before gently pulling you into his embrace.

You moan and twitch for a second before clinging onto him, panting hard with sweat dripping down your brow. “Jeez, don't think I've ever made you squirt like that before,” Eric chuckles, wiping your forehead with his clean sleeve before kissing your cheek.

“H-holy shi-shit…” you whisper, swallowing as your hands rest on your thighs as they stop shaking.

“Oh fuck I really did make a mess - what are you doing?” Eric suddenly pulls away from you, grabbing his jacket to tie around your waist.

“Come on, I wanna make you squirt like that again but in bed. And with my dick,” he teases, helping you to your feet before ushering you both out of the room.

“Oh come on, this is a one time thing and you know it,”

“Are you saying my dick isn't big enough, princess?”

You giggle, hanging off his arm as the tattoo shop door closes just in time for Sunwoo's angry shout as the latter enters the now tainted room of your mess.

“Aw come on, Eric!!”

#the boyz fanfic #eric fanfic #m: everykebbie #p: mxr #g: smut #g: non idol au #f: oneshot #2k #r: 21+

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k-vanity · 8 hours

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drenched

member — junhui x f reader genre — smut word count — 2.4k synopsis — the pool isn't the only thing that gets jun all wet. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, oral (reader receiving), squirting, body worship, pussy drunk jun, mentioned that reader wears a bikini (+ other clothes), they're so horny for each other it's actually just gross notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks to @onlymingyus for looking over this for me <3 sorry the synopsis is boring asdhgsj i couldnt think of a cooler one. also very very sorry again that it's taken me so long to get to these old requests but i hope you enjoy! please be sure to reblog with comments or send an ask if you liked this :)

if there's only one thing in this world that jun is obsessed with, it's your pussy.

practically every night he comes home, throwing his bag on the chair and pulling you onto the couch, begging you to let him eat you out, just really quick before dinner, please? i'll make you cum so fast, promise, just let me have ten minutes with you.

most of the time he slides your pants down and finds you already wet, knowing the kind of mood he'll be in when he gets home. it's almost impossible to force your mind out of the gutter when you can't stop picturing him kneeling between your legs, his dark brown eyes turned even darker with lust as he watches your face and every single tiny little reaction you have to him.

it's not your fault that you really can't help it if your mind wanders during the day, sending a shiver down your spine every time you think about how desperate he is for you. he'll never pass up the opportunity to bury his fingers inside you, moaning about how good it feels to have your cunt clenching him so tight and how pretty your legs look as they tremble around him.

jun loves nothing more than how wet you get and he'll clean you up with his tongue, his cock throbbing because he knows you're like this for him and him only. he'll gladly spend hours between your legs, groaning about how you're straight out of his dreams; what other explanation could there possibly be for the fact that he gets to come home to the prettiest girl he's ever seen every single day? not only that, but that you let him play with you whenever you want? he feels like he's died and gone to heaven every time you spread your legs apart and let him spend as much time as he wants in that spot.

of course, he has other favorite things, too. he loves fucking you from behind so he can see your gorgeous ass bouncing in front of him. he loves laying back and letting you do whatever you want to him, pushing his shaft between your breasts and grinning when he covers your face in his cum. but nothing compares to having his face smushed in your pussy, his skilled tongue and long fingers reaching places inside you that you didn't even know existed before you met him.

tonight is no different than every other night that he comes home and begs for your pussy. except this time he's got one thing and one thing only on his mind, and it's going to drive him insane if he doesn't have you right this second.

the first time it happened it caught you off guard. your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as the drops rolled down his abs coating the both of you in liquid, your legs still wrapped around his waist when he stops thrusting. you started to apologize, until jun lets out a long, low groan and tells you don't you fucking dare apologize for the hottest thing he's ever witnessed in his whole goddamn life and now he's made it his life's mission to making you squirt as much as is physically possible.

you didn't even know you could squirt at all before jun, but he brings a side out of you that you didn't know was there. a side of you so absolutely insatiable, like an unquenchable thirst, and now that it's been unlocked you're addicted to it.

with the rising temperatures and clear, sunny skies that have come after the rain and cold, it's obvious that summer is quickly closing in. it's one of his favorite seasons for many reasons, but the main one is that hotter weather means seeing you in more revealing clothes.

he had never been the type of guy to go feral at the sight of an ankle or an exposed shoulder, but around you it's like he loses all control. the way your shorts hug your ass—jean shorts, pajama shorts, bike shorts, any and all of them. his mind goes blank and all he can imagine is your perfect pussy hidden so teasingly from his view, and he'll do anything to get a taste. teasingly, because you know exactly how he gets and you love to play into it just to make him even more riled up.

you've started buying shorts that are just a little bit too small, just a little bit tighter that show another extra inch of skin. and you grin in satisfaction every single time he tears them off of you and pushes his hand down past the waistband to feel how soaked you are… until he wipes that smile right off your face with just a simple brush of his fingers.

the same goes for your shirts, too. the crop tops that expose your tummy; he loves to run his fingers over your skin, and the short length makes it so much easier for him to slide his hands up to feel your breasts. and don't even get him started on the tank tops; he feels like a virgin all over again, unable to stop his cock from twitching in his pants. when he sees that little extra bit of cleavage sitting so perfectly.

god, he loves every fucking thing about your body. but there is, however, one downside to the summer season.

okay, so it's not exactly like they banned him from the public pool, but they did tell him (in not so nice words) to stop feeling up his girlfriend in the locker rooms, and now he's too embarrassed to ever show his face there again. which honestly is more than fine by you, because if your hand wasn't down his swim shorts jerking him off as you lazily sat beside him in a chaise lounge, then was it really even a good day?

but besides that, the problem is that he can't see you near water without thinking about making you squirt. there hasn't been a single time when you've been out on the backyard patio, drops of sweat glistening on your skin from the summer heat as you hold a garden hose in your hand watering the tomato plants, that he hasn't wanted to push you against the side of the house and take you right then and there. to curl his fingers in your pussy until his hand is more soaked than the vegetables.

or like the time you both stayed at your parents’ house for a weekend while they were on vacation. he'd found you sitting out by the pool reading your book after you've just finished swimming, and the drops of water on your thighs that hadn't yet dried from the sun had reminded him too vividly of how you looked after he made you squirt with his cock. that day you'd needed a second shower, and it wasn't from the chlorine in the pool.

if your mind is in the gutter when you think about him, then his mind is in a place further than hell when he thinks about you.

so really, you can't blame him for tonight. you can't get mad at him after you sent him pictures of the pretty new bikini you'd bought for the upcoming cruise you were going on next month. but not just pictures of the bikini; pictures of you wearing it, your knees spread temptingly in a way that you knew for a fact would get him hard as a rock in seconds.

he's pissed, but more than that he's needy, because he already had to jerk off in the bathroom at work because he couldn't get his hard-on to go down any other way. his own fist will never compare to how good your pussy feels against his face, so it seems as good a place as any for you to start making it up to him for your bad behavior.

he barely gets the front door closed behind him before he's pushing you against the wall, his fingers clawing desperately at your sides as his lips capture yours. it's hot, he’s hot, and the temperature outside has nothing to do with it.

even the air conditioning in your house can't cool you down as he drags you by the waist to your shared bedroom, telling you it would be in your best interests to be waiting naked by the time he comes back with towels because he's not feeling very patient tonight.

you love it when he gets like this, and you grin triumphantly as you pull your panties off and leave them hanging off the edge of the bed, the glistening wet spot on them purposefully noticeable. you already know that you won't be leaving this room until the towels and sheets beneath you are equally soaked, and just the thought alone makes you dizzy.

the grin on jun's face is wide enough to rival yours when he comes back to find you laid out so prettily on the bed, on display for him like a gourmet fucking meal.

you lift your hips for him as he spreads out a towel beneath you, kneeling at the foot of the bed with your thighs on either side of his head. just one look at your dripping folds and he's already gone, throwing your legs over his shoulders and digging his fingers into your thighs to spread you apart even more for his eager mouth.

you've had jun's mouth on you more times than you can keep track of, but every single time still feels like the first. no matter how often he does it, you don't think you'll ever be prepared for the first lick, when he flattens his tongue to cover as much of you as possible at once before he begins.

the way he immediately and easily finds your clit, sucking messily before moving lower to slide through your folds, is always enough to bring you right up to the edge, but it doesn't last. it's a constant battle between making you cum as fast as possible, or prolonging it and moving around until you can't take it even for one more second and your orgasm is ten times stronger.

this time he chooses the latter, but you already had a feeling that that's how things would go. he's focused, honed in on your pussy; he is going to make you squirt all over his face, and if you don't think that's a guarantee, then you'd be sorely mistaken.

it's not the first time you've played this little game with him: sending suggestive photos and texting flirty messages, until you inevitably end up under him with enough orgasms to last you a week. but it's never enough to last, of course, and it's not long before you do it all over again.

he likes to act like he's teaching you a lesson, but you both have been through this routine enough times to know it's the thrill that keeps you coming back more than the need for punishment. you could always just ask him, but where's the fun in that? it's much more exciting to push his buttons and let him take over. it would almost be funny how his reaction is exactly the same every single time, if your reaction weren't also exactly the same. it's a habit you fall into together, but you wouldn't trade it for anything.

jun's fingers slide up your body, stopping at your waist to grab you and pull you harder against his nose. it's impossible not to let yourself get lost in it, moaning and threading your fingers in his hair as your pussy throbs in his mouth.

he points his tongue at your clit once more and he doesn't let up until your thighs start to shake, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. you're close and he knows it, almost even better than you know it yourself because he's spent so much time between your legs that he knows how to read your body like an open book.

your fingers in his scalp squeeze tighter, pushing his head further into you, and he groans at the feeling. he loves how quickly you get fucked out from his mouth alone, that you’re barely even processing how roughly you're moving his head because your body is on fire from the stimulation.

he'd live and die in your pussy if he could, and that's exactly what he plans to do tonight as his tongue flicks faster and harder. he can feel the wetness already gushing out of you and he knows you're right there, ready to give him what he so desperately wants.

with one final suck to your clit you go rigid and your muscles release, whimpers and whines flowing from your lips like liquid as you cum. it drenches his face, running down his cheeks and his chin and soaking his hair.

he drinks you up like a starved man, like he's been wandering alone in the desert and finally found his oasis. your head rolls back and your body writhes under his hands, but his grip is too tight and he is far too committed on getting every last drop from you to allow you to squirm out of his grasp.

it's overwhelming nearly to the point of pain but you don't want him to stop, you desperately need him to keep going until you're drained. and that’s one of the best things about jun, is that by now he can practically read your mind and he can tell when you need more and when you don’t.

he can tell what you want without even having to ask, so he reaches up and squeezes your hand in his as he looks up from between your legs, meeting your eyes and giving you that look that makes you shiver because you couldn’t imagine anyone else but him in this position. you don’t want to stop, not yet, and he nods at you knowingly with a hazy little grin and slides his tongue right back where you want it.

he’s more than willing to spend the rest of the night kneeling in front of you until you’re spent, if that’s what you want. honestly, he’s willing to spend the rest of his life there, too.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist will be in the comments under this fic since tumblr is having problems with mentions, i can't add them as i usually do. if you'd like to join and be notified when i post a new fic, you can fill out this short form here! :)

#seventeen fanfic #jun fanfic #m: onlyhuis #p: mxr #g: smut #f: oneshot #2.4k #r: 18+

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k-vanity · 14 hours

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High Infidelity

Summary: There are many different ways that you could kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough. So what happens when you find someone who was all too willing to give you thee attention you craved, you said you'd only dip your toes into the idea, and yet, you find yourself already drowning. The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, afab!reader, wears dresses, lmk if i miss something!! (Smut warnings under the cut)

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daemour!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

A/N 2: Thanks to @nebulousbrainsoup, @kwanisms, @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, and @gongiz for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: tipsy sex (not drunk), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple stimulation, masturbation, lmk if i missed anything!

The rain soaked into your skin—cold and icy—piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? He has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making you more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese.

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move.

Xu Minghao is a passionate man, you can see his dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others were sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, and others were more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throes of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'11", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has a peculiar hairstyle, a mullet to be exact, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, "Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you’ve never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "Although I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

The mug in your hands warmed your palms, and your focus was fixated on the man in front of you. He talked about another piece of his, titled “Longing”; it was heavily inspired by his desire to find someone who shares the same passion as him, the longing to hold someone in a way that nobody else could, intimacy in its purest form.

“It sounds a bit pathetic, I’m known for my work in the art of passion and, to put it simply, sex; but I haven’t been able to find the company of a lover myself. Perhaps that’s just the consequence of being a hopeless romantic. Then again, you wouldn’t know the feeling of being lonely, I assume.” He said calmly, a small chuckle ending his tangent.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” You look into the mug in your hands, your reflection swirling in the tea. Your face looks back at you, eyes sunken in and sad, “To put it nicely… my husband robs me of solitude, but fails to offer me company.” You shouldn’t be talking about Haru like this. Your husband works many hours, tirelessly providing you with the house and connections for you to pursue a career in writing. But that wasn’t the reason why your anxiety was swirling in your stomach.

Looking back up at Minghao, the same dark expression sits on his face, a minuscule smirk, barely there even if you squint, “Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we? I could keep you company.”

That. That was a quality of his that you noticed fairly early on. You can never read his true intentions, suggestive prose with just enough deniability to gracefully reject him without the conversation becoming inappropriate.

But your anxiety wasn’t caused by that, no, it was caused by the fact that you didn’t want to reject him.

“I’d like that, Maybe we could head to a bar and get drinks there too? My husband won’t be back for a few months because of a business trip in a few weeks. I could use the company.” You say, looking at him through your lashes; he knows his effect on you, and the mental gymnastics that both of you play over the table was just appropriate enough that to anyone listening, it’s just two friends agreeing to get drinks sometime in the future.

But to both of you, well, only the two of you know what’ll happen once the sun goes down.

“Of course, my schedule is free for the rest of the month. Be sure to think of me if you need company.” He offers you a soft smile, directly contrasting how intensely he’s making eye contact with you. The way he’s looking into your eyes makes you feel vulnerable like he’s directly using them as windows into your head. You’re half-convinced he could read your mind, if he could, he’s a master at hiding it.

You haven’t learned much about him, but from what you do know, you can never take his words at surface level, much less his actions. The way he’s leaning over the table, elbows on the surface, and his shoulders relaxed. His closing the distance, even if just by a hair, and the way his posture suggested the epitome of familiarity, shook you to your core.

His presence is almost suffocating, his dominance over your mind silencing whatever protest his suggestions may have created. You nod dumbly, “Of course, be warned though, I think of you a lot.” This causes his smile to relax into a smirk, the kind that could pass off as a smile if you don’t think too hard about it.

“I’m glad to hear that. I think about you a lot too.” He says picking up his cup of tea, “So much that a collection was born from the thought of you.” He takes a sip from the cup in his hands, eyes meeting yours over the rim of the cup, the way he holds eye contact with you always makes goosebumps litter your skin, the cup hiding the growing smirk on his face, silently enjoying his effect on you.

“Ah, speaking of the collection,” He started again, after setting the cup down, “Would you do me the honor of visiting my studio sometime? I’ll text you the address right now, you can come by at any time if you’re interested.” Taking his phone out from his pocket, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket, you pick it up. The small device, usually light, feels like a heavy weight on your palm.

Opening your messages, you see that Minghao already sent the address, a building about 20 minutes from the cafe you’re in right now. “Lovely, could I trouble you to pick me up when I decide to visit?” You ask,

“Of course,” He replies, a gentle smile stretches across his face, “I’d love nothing more than to see you more often.”

The first time you entered Minghao’s studio, it felt like a dream. The studio wasn’t small by any means, the place was neat, neater than what you imagined any artist studio would look like. “Make yourself at home, I’ll brew some tea for us,” Minghao said as he took both your coats. Hanging the heavy fabrics on his coat rack, he gently guides you to the couches with a hand on your back, the light touch helping to ground you in this new environment.

He shoots you a quick smile before turning his back to you, setting his electric kettle to boil the water at the perfect temperature for tea. He rummages through his extensive tea set collection, settling on a simple white ceramic set with wooden handles. His eyes meet yours briefly, taking note of how you watch his every movement with care and curiosity, the way you were fascinated with the way his hand veins jumped every time he set a piece of the tea set down.

The kettle finishes boiling, he finally sets it down next to the tea set. “I want to introduce you to this teacake that my friend from home sent me,” He pulls out a teacake about the size of his head from the drawer under the table, wrapped in a slightly stained paper. He carefully unwraps it to show you the rich brown of the aged tea leaves, “This is a 15-year-old aged pu’er, I haven’t had the chance to try it yet, so I’d like to try this with you.”

“What an honor, I read from a recent interview that you were waiting for a good day to taste that right?” You ask, trying to gauge his reaction, if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it,

“Of course, making a new friend is a special occasion, isn’t it? I’d consider that a good day.” He replies cooly, taking a tea knife and carving out a piece of tea to steep for a second, you watch as he delicately handles the porcelain set, the control in his movements reminding you of his mastery in sculpting, “You know, making tea is much like cultivating a new relationship,” he starts as he stands up to take the kettle off the stand.

“You carefully carve out your leaves, boil your water to the perfect temperature to bloom them, and steep the leaves a few seconds at a time.” You see him pour the water over the tea leaves, dried blades blooming like flowers under the delicate stream. “Each steep of tea is different, starting from the bloom until the flavor develops; and only then will you appreciate the true complexities of what tea has to offer.”

A small smile grows on your face as you watch him pour the first bloom onto his tea pets, “If my assessment is correct, you’re trying to correlate the developing flavors of tea with how our relationship is progressing?” He nods, confirming your hypothesis, “Then, I’ll ask you a question, which steep are we on?” you say with a cheeky smile.

Minhao grins at this, eyes almost disappearing with how wide his smile was, “Literally? The second steep.” He says as he pours more water over the leaves, you let out a chuckle at his little joke, “Figuratively? The fifth.”

You tilt your head a bit, “The fifth? I didn’t realize we were already at that stage.” you say as you accept his offer of a teacup.

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t just share my most expensive teas with anyone, so I might as well share it with one of the most brilliant minds I know.” he said while bringing the cup to his lips, sipping the drink carefully while making eye contact with you over the rim, winking playfully.

You raise your cup as well, the rising steam not being the only reason for your flushed face, you grin against the rim of your cup, savoring the rich and deep aroma of the high-quality tea.

After a while of banter and small talk, you finish your tea, setting down your cup gently on his expensive-feeling coffee table, he stands from his seat, “Could I show you something?” he said, holding his hand out to you. You place your palm on his, the warmth from his hand seeping into your skin. The touch was negligible, simple, even, but the contact with his skin sent electricity through you, like a violent jolt of excitement.

Minghao notices this and smirks, feeling pride swell up in his chest as he pulls you up from the couch, leading you to the other side of the room with a hand on the small of your back. He finally stops in front of a large canvas, laid across what looks like a bare-bones bed frame. You turn to him, curiosity growing on the expression of your face.

“What’s this? This looks fairly new, the paint on the frame still seems wet.” You ask, eyes raking over the splotches of color seemingly placed without much thought or care, it looked like the aftermath of a messy and angry paint spill.

“It is new,” Minghao starts, “I’m trying a new technique where I release frustrations by getting whatever paint catches my eye and throwing cups of it without much thought.” He shrugs, nothing particularly of note, but you do notice the amount of emotion that is in the piece.

“It’s not an elegant piece, but for a collection centered around passion I find it missing raw emotion.” He runs his hand through his face, frustration taking over his features, something you noticed early on was his emotions were closely tied to whatever art was around him, it seems as though the frustration in this one was affecting him at this moment.

“Yes, the human form and sex are great subjects, but pure, raw emotion is hard to capture.” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. “So, that’s why I invited you here. Tell me, as someone who’s written longing, despair, and everything in between. How does this make you feel?”

You pause and take in his words, turning back to the canvas and trying to soak in the colors, the shapes, and the emotion behind this piece. Yes, frustration is here. Yes, anger is here. But how does it make you feel?

“It makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.” You say simply, your stomach sinking just thinking about what that might entail. Minghao has a genuine look of shock for the first time since you’ve met him. His head tilted to give his attention to you fully.

“Really? Interesting. That’s the first time I heard that about this piece specifically.” He said with a lopsided grin, seemingly getting a new stroke of genius with your answer. He looks back at the canvas too, shoulders shaking from his restricted laughs. Your answer seemed to entertain him a lot. That much you can figure out, but you can never be sure what goes on in the mind of Xu Minghao.

Just then, your phone starts to ring, you only know one person who would call you at this hour—your Husband. You watch as the expression on Minghao’s face falls, face contorting into something short of a scowl for a split second before settling on his usual cool neutral expression. It was so quick that you barely missed the change, it happened so quickly that you decided it was all in your imagination as you ran to answer the phone.

You pick up the phone, “Hi honey-” You were cut off by your husband speaking,

“Get home, it’s getting late and you haven’t started dinner yet.” He said simply, before promptly dropping the call.

You stand there, the line going dead as you try to hold back tears. You take a deep breath, too afraid to show your face to Minghao in case tears were about to fall from your face. Grabbing your coat, you turn to face the door.

“Thank you for inviting me over, I have to get home now,” you said, your voice a little shaky, as you roughly opened the door.

You were out of his sight as Minghao stood alone in his studio, pondering. As silence took over the space, a dark smirk on his face.

'How long before you break?' he wonders.

The next time you and Minghao meet, you’re sitting on a park bench watching the autumn leaves dance to the silent song in the wind. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear leaves crunch beside you, seeing the tail of Minghao’s long coat swaying in the wind.

He sees you, a smile spreading across his face, his long hair almost covering his face. His fast-paced walking makes the leaves crunch under his weight rhythmically. You think that he looks beautiful under the soft brightness of the autumn morning, only ever seeing him in the harsh rays of high noon or the constant humming of fluorescent lights.

You feel the heat radiating off his body through your and his coats as he sits next to you on the park bench. “Beautiful morning, the view is exquisite.” He says, looking directly at you. You giggle at this, he’s always been such a charmer ever since you met him. You peel the notebook from your lap, “I’m no artist, but the park is too gorgeous this time of year to not at least try to capture on paper.” you say as you open it to show him a relatively crude sketch of the scenery.

“Oh? This feels like a threat to my career.” He says with a chuckle, “But, genuinely, this is an amazing sketch. Are you sure you aren’t an artist?” You think you could get used to how relaxed you were around Minghao, conversations with him flowed so easily, it reminds you of the times your husband used to be invested in you as a person. Perhaps it was easier to compare the thrill of meeting a new person with feeling the start of a romantic spark, it was a dangerous game to play with him.

“No, I’m not, but I can appreciate a masterpiece when I see one.” You say, this time looking at him. He notices this and laughs at the fact that his joke is being used against him. He closes the notebook, handing it to you to put in your tote bag.

“The weather is perfect for a walk, care to join me?” He said, offering his hand for you to take. You accept the offer, the warmth of his palm being something to ground you on such a dreamy morning. Leaves crunch under both your weights in synch, your hand moves from his to hold onto his arm, and you try not to notice the lean muscle of it or the steady and secure way he guides you through the path.

You breathe in the autumn chill, enjoying the comfortable silence that followed the quiet whistle of the wind. “Your book,” Minghao said, his silky voice cutting through the silence effortlessly, “The one that inspired the collection, I’ve been following your publisher’s updates on the series, and I was wondering if you'd be able to share your progress on the second book?”

“Ah, about that.” You grimace, and you shake your head, quelling the urge to complain about your husband’s lack of sympathy for your predicament. “Maybe I’ll tell you another time, it’s not something I can talk about at the moment.”

Before you can correct the old man, Minghao speaks up, “Of course, could I take three of these?” He said, pointing at the basket of Jonquils.

He hums, luckily, Minghao was never the type to pry, “I get it, ever the tortured poet you are.” he said in a joking tone, you let out a chortle at this, agreeing that you may or may not be one.

Both of you are stopped by a flower vendor, “You both are a lovely pair,” The old man starts, as he turns to Minghao, he asks, “Could I interest you in some flowers? I’m sure your lady would appreciate them.” He smiles.

“Of course, you’re in luck too, these are the last off-season flowers I had in my greenhouse.” the old man said as his nimble fingers wrapped the flowers in some yellow tissue paper.

“I'm really lucky indeed.” He agreed while looking at you, your cheeks warming up at the implication. Minghao accepts the flowers and happily pays for them, gracefully handing the bundle to you.

Holding onto the stems, your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the bright yellow flowers. “Thank you Minghao, they're beautiful.”

He smiles at the way you look at the flowers fondly, simply adoring the way your face lit up; literally, the yellow from the flowers reflected off your face and gave it a yellow hue.

“Shall we continue to walk?” He asks, offering his arm for you to hold again, you hold onto it, the flowers in your other hand. And you let the silence take over again.

Before you knew it, you've spent the entire day laughing and talking with Minghao, only stopping at several vendors for food and other trinkets, feeding the ducks berries, and watching the fish in the pond.

But the day has to end at some point.

You regretfully leave Minghao at the train station, waving goodbye through the glass of the train doors as you watch his figure get smaller and smaller.

Arriving home, you try to find a vase to put your flowers in, setting it down on the kitchen counter, your husband walks in and sees them.

“They're ugly, don't put them anywhere where I could see them.”

He said coldly, you try your best not to scoff at him, still searching for a vacant vase.

Finally finding one, you decide to place the flower vase on the windowsill of your office, the bright flowers contrasting everything else in the room, the dark and neutral furniture your husband got for you.

You jolt, realizing you're comparing your husband to another man.

You expected guilt to eat you up at the realization, but really, you couldn't find a reason to keep defending Haru.

“Could you come over to the studio later tonight? I don't think I should be alone.”

This text from Minghao worried you a bit, you've been spending a lot of time with him recently, you met him 6 more times after he got you flowers at the park, and you never noticed that he could deal with something so sinister.

Of course, you agree to come, your closest confidant in your adult life needs you right now. You wait for your husband to fall asleep in his office, again, before you leave the house, walking to the end of the block before calling a cab.

Arriving at his studio, you already knew the code, punching in the numbers 150526 on the smart lock, the studio opens with a click.

You take cautious steps into the studio, seeing the silhouette of a man on the couch, his back towards the door, nursing what you assume is a wine glass in his hand.

He turns his head to face the door, “You came.” He said, with relief in his voice, a little slurred from the alcohol you assume.

“You called.” You replied. Shrugging off your coat to hang, you join him on the couch. He looked a lot more disheveled compared to the usual clean and put-together Minghao that you know.

His hair is slicked back, some pieces of hair falling onto his face, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his collarbones and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And glasses resting lowly on his nose.

You look at his face, and you notice dark circles around his eyes.

“Drink, and stay with me. Please.” He asks, no, almost begs you. You don't have the heart to decline. He pours you your glass and you both toast your glasses together.

You take the normal sip and he downs the rest of his, taking in a deep breath as if to steady himself. “Y/N, there's something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach drops at this, anxiety filling the pit of it as you nervously wait for the rest of what he has to say.

“I think I'm in love with-” he pauses, “someone I shouldn't be in love with.” He finishes, leaning forward to pour himself another glass of wine.

Your face falls only slightly, a minuscule change in expression that neither you nor Minghao catch. You cross your hands over your lap as soon as you realize your silence.

“Why can't you be in love with them?” You ask. Your head tilts as you take another sip of your wine. He hums, a smile graces his lips, but it doesn't seem to reach his eyes.

“They refuse to be vulnerable with me, opening up throughout our time together then closing back in the next time I see them.” He says with some fondness, “Also, they're married to someone else.”

“You probably should've led with that.” You mumble lowly, “I see, I know that all too well, wanting someone you can't have, someone so close yet so far. It's suffocating, especially when you haven't felt like yourself in so long, and then this person comes around and gives color back to your sad, gray, life. It's cruel, actually.”

You realize you've been rambling, turning to meet Minghao's eyes, you notice an emotion swirling behind them, something bittersweet, a realization that may change the course of your relationship.

“Anyway, how did you end up falling for them in the first place?” You ask in an attempt to bring the conversation back to him,

“Well, at first it was just a cure for boredom, I saw how receptive they were to my advances and I thought their marriage served as a fun, harmless challenge for me. But I got to know them, spend time with them, I got to witness the color come back into their face and I couldn't help but find it beautiful. That fact that I did that, bring color back into their face, slowly becoming someone again. The moment I saw their face light up with a simple gift I knew I was down, down bad.”

You hum, thinking the person Minghao was talking about is one of the luckiest people in the world right now. To be loved by him was like witnessing Orpheus’ choiceless grief that drove him to save his lover from the underworld, it was like feeling the devotee's dread-filled need to turn around, it was like experiencing the immediate forgiveness of Eurydice.

You wanted to be loved by him.

You both continue to chat and drink, and it isn't long before the two of you finish your second bottle of wine, Minghao offers to pay for your cab home, and he decides he's going to sleep in his studio.

You reflect on the events of that night as you slip into the cold covers of your marital bed, your husband’s side tidy as it was for the past month.

You run your hand over the pristine and cold sheet, imagining someone else filling its space on your bed, as he does your heart.

Minghao added a new piece to his collection, his gallery is still a work in progress and you walk through familiar doors. The very same statue you were entranced by still sits by the entrance, and you see a very familiar figure standing in front of it.

“I feel like this already happened before.” You said cheekily, he snorts at this, handing you a paper bag with tissue paper peeking from the top.

“Maybe this happened before in a dream, maybe we were destined to meet under the judgemental fluorescent lights.” He jokes as you feel the weight of the bag on your fingers.

“What's in the bag, Hao?” You ask cautiously, mischief flashing on his face before he fully turns his body to you, giving you his full attention.

“It's something you might like, maybe.” He said, his confidence faltering toward the end of his sentence. Tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, he eagerly waits for you to open the semi-heavy bag.

You carefully move the paper to the side of the bag, seeing white porcelain peaking back at you, you whip your head with with your face showing an expression of surprise. Minghao smiles, enjoying your reaction to his gift.

“You got me a tea set? That's so thoughtful, thank you.” You say with a smile, inspecting the frog patterns in the glaze.

“You mentioned your husband is leaving for a business trip soon, so I figured you'd like a set so we can have tea at your place. I'll even bring you a teacake to keep.” He said as he pulled a hand out of his trousers, fixing a stray hair that fell from your up-do.

“It's perfect, thank you.” You said, looking up at him, a smile still on your face.

“Do you want to walk around the gallery with me? I added a few pieces since then, and I'd like to talk about them.” he said, offering his arm. You wrap another hand around him, the familiarity of his arm under your palm giving you a sense of calm.

You spent the rest of the day walking around the gallery and chatting, other gallery-goers openly gawked at Minghao. It was obvious, really, the artist is here in the flesh, and he's gorgeous.

Minghao stopped to entertain other guests too, seeing him in his element made pride swell in your chest. His work, and by extension him, is finally being recognized by more people in the community. His hard work and dedication paid off handsomely.

Stopping in front of a mural, you noticed it was a replica of a really old painting. A painting of Ares and Aphrodite getting caught by Hephestus.

“Oof, poor bastards.” You joke, Minghao found this funny too, chuckling with you.

“It’s almost comical how this painting compelled me. I don't know what drove me to recreate the thing as a whole mural, but we both know I'm a little crazy.” He says with a playful groan, you try to hold back a loud laugh by giggling into your palm.

“Well, dear Xu Minghao, everyone knows crazy people are geniuses.” squeezing his arm, you check out the side of his face. His side profile was so sharp and soft at the same time, the dichotomy of his features was an easy subject to study. He's a gorgeous man, too gorgeous for his own good you think.

You both sat down on the bench in front of the mural to chat, and before you knew it, enough time has passed that the gallery was about to close.

Minghao calls a cab for you, and you arrive home in-tact, but not safe.

“Y/n, where have you been running off to these past few weeks?” Your husband questioned you as soon as you entered your home. Your mood instantly dropped, feeling the weight of your actions all at once.

“I'm hanging out with a friend, and it's really not that deep. It's not like I've neglected house work at all. So you should have a reason to care.” You snap back, a little too much for such a simple query. Your husband rises from his seat, cupping your face with a gentle hand for the first time in a long time.

“You’re my wife, of course it's my concern.” He said, just as he was about to make you fall for him again, he said, “We haven't been intimate in a long time, I'm leaving in a few days, so I want to make love to you before I go.”

Ah, there it was. He only ever shows affection for you when he's asking for sex nowadays.

You nod, what followed was unfulfilling and unsatisfying sex. Missionary, a few pumps just to get him off, and he didn't even kiss you.

And obviously, he didn't make you cum.

Your husband is fast asleep in your bed for the first time in months, and yet you can't find it in yourself to be happy about it.

You take out your trusty friend, egg.

The jolts to life with steady vibrations as you press the toy to your clit, relaxing into the sheets as you imagine a pair of calloused hands roaming the plane of your skin.

Controlled pressure and technique only a sculptor could have, his hair falling over his face, and his eyes holding you gaze as if you gave him everything he could ever want by simply existing.

He looks at you like you hung each star in the sky just for him, just so he could watch your skin bathed in moonlight, twinkling like the most precious diamond he could ever have.

This man isn't your husband, It was Minghao.

Your orgasm came unexpectedly, the realization that you were fantasizing about him snapped you back into reality so violently that you ruined your own orgasm.

You huff as you tuck the toy back into its drawer, pulling up the covers to try and sleep off the guilt.

Your husband left for his business trip a few days ago, and you made preparations for your first guest in a while. You finally set up the tea set when you heard a knock at your door, springing up, you head towards the door to look through the peephole, you see Minghao dressed a little more casually, a cap on his head and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You swiftly unlock the door for him, he smiles upon seeing you, tipping his cap, he says, “Good evening, it's a pleasure to finally be invited into your home.” You greet him back, stepping to the side to let him enter. As he does, he takes his cap off to let his hair fall onto his face again.

He offers you the flowers and you take them, “I'll go find a vase for these, make yourself at home, dinner is still cooking in the oven.” You said as you turned back to find another vase.

After finding one and setting the flowers in your office again, you find Minghao setting a record on your turntable, a slow tune plays through the air, instantly making the room feel calmer and homey.

“I didn't pin you as the type to have such an extensive vinyl collection, you have good taste too.” He said, swaying to the music by shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“I didn't feel the need to mention it considering I haven't touched those in a while. My husband hates them.” You say solemnly.

“Well, he isn't here now. Let's enjoy the music,” he said, holding his hand out for you to take, “Dance with me?”

You smile as you take his hand, he suddenly pulls you towards him and you land on his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as you sway to the calm of the music.

You think to yourself, This is nice, this is safe. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be married to Minghao instead.

You turn your head and press your ear to his chest, hear him breathe slowly, his heart beating rhythmically. This is the first time you were ever this close to him, practically holding him in a loving embrace.

His woody cologne almost distracts you, so seductive and masculine and you almost reach up to cup his face, to kiss him. Before you realize that he isn't your husband.

You're both snapped out of your little bubble when the oven dings, signaling that dinner is ready. You break away from him, already missing his warmth as you set the dining table, one that hasn't been used in a while.

You eat dinner with him, talking about your days and how work has been. It's a welcome change of pace from your husband’s tolerance of your presence. You didn't have to beg Minghao for footnotes on his life, you didn't feel like you're taking up too much of his space or time.

It's safe, secure. It feels like you're being celebrated for existing.

You dwell on this feeling long after Minghao heads home, your stomach and heart full. As you slip into the covers you wonder what it'll feel like to hold him under them, for him to kiss the crown of your head and whisper the three words you desperately wanted to hear again.

You fall asleep with the fantasy that when you wake up, he'll be right next to you.

Minghao invited you downtown this time, various pop-up stores of luxury brands recently opened and he just secured a sale of a really expensive painting; so of course, what better way to spend that money than taking a shopping trip with his closest friend.

“This would look amazing on you.” He said while taking out a dress, it's a color that compliments your hair and skin wonderfully. Minghao always knew how to dress.

“Oh, I'm inclined to agree, but I'm not willing to look at the price tag for that one.” You joke, shrugging as you follow him around the store.

“Nonsense, I'm offering to pay.” He said, turning his nose up. “I'm getting this for you, I'll ask the salesperson for more sizes so you can try them on.” He said, turning to the salesperson doing just that.

The salesperson nods enthusiastically, bringing the dresses to the dressing rooms and ushering you in despite your protests. Minghao only smiles in amusement as the curtain hides your figure, he sits on the bench near the dressing rooms in silence, scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

He hears the curtains roll open, it only takes a moment of him looking at you in the dress to take his breath away. It fits you perfectly, hugging your body deliciously. Minghao almost drops his phone onto his lap, his grip loosening, star-struck by your beauty.

“How does it look?” You ask, awkwardly fiddling with the expensive fabric of the dress, feeling a little too expensive to be on your body.

Minghao wordlessly stands from the bench, looking a little dazed, he turns to the salesperson and tells them, “We're getting the dress.” As he walks toward the cashier almost in a trance.

You're a little taken aback by his reaction, but nonetheless you change back into your regular clothes. As soon as you walk out of the dressing room Minghao Pushes you back in with more dresses.

“Please try these on.” He says, not having the strength to look you in the eyes. You comply.

It took you hours of trying on dresses and accessories to the point that you almost bought the store out. Minghao couldn't get enough of the mini-fashion show you were putting on for him, and it's not like the salespeople are complaining either.

You walk out of the first store with multiple bags in hand, you thought that was enough shopping for the whole year maybe, but no, Minghao pulls you into another store, and another, and another, all leaving with bags (multiple) of clothes.

It got so bad to the point that Minghao had to leave your bags in his car so you could free up your hands to buy more stuff.

You stopped trying to fathom the amount of money Minghao was spending on you, yes, he did buy items for himself too, but he looked much more satisfied to provide for you rather than procuring items for himself.

The car ride back home was filled with way too many ‘are you sure's and ‘you really didn't have to's. But Minghao was insistent on you keeping all the items he got for you.

“I'm being serious, you're a gorgeous woman, you deserve to be spoiled like a queen.” he said, turning to you while waiting at a red light, “You need to visit my studio in the clothes I got you, you'll fit right in with my paintings.” He smiles.

Your face flushes at his compliments, a bright and happy smile stretching across your face. You couldn't remember the last time you were this happy with someone. To find joy in the company of another felt liberating, you felt like you deserved this.

Minghao drops you off at your place with your new clothes, helping you get them into your living room like a true gentleman.

“I'll see you next time, Y/n.” He said stopping at your doorstep, annd leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of your head, he took note of what your shampoo smelled like and left. Leaving you awestruck in your doorway as you watch his car drive off.

This studio has become so familiar to you, like a second home almost. Punching in the code was muscle memory at this point, the smell of drying paint and clay becoming a calming scent.

You smooth over the front of your dress, one that Minghao got you, as you enter his studio again. Shrugging off your heavier coat, the beginning of winter creeps closer as the trees lose the last of their leaves.

Minghao just got out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his paint-stained shirt and apron. He looks at you, the dress, the way it fits on you. And he smiles widely.

“Hey there gorgeous, what are you doing all the way there? You should be over there with the rest of the art.” He says cheekily.

You giggle as you enter the space more, stopping in front of him taking his extended hand and following it, giving him a twirl.

He simply adores the way the fabric flows and shapes around your curves and contours, your skin practically glowing with life.

He fights the urge to kiss you, succeeding for now.

He guides you onto the couch, a turntable sitting next to his stone tea tray on the coffee table. ”Oh? This is new.” You said when you noticed it.

“Oh that? I got it for when you come over. I got a few records too, if you'd like to make yourself comfortable while I brew us some tea.” He said, untying his apron to hang on an easel, turning his back to you and he started preparing tea like before.

His movements and practiced, you'd guess this tea ceremony is second nature to him, considering he always talks about it. This scene is safe, familiar, it's comfortable.

He does this whole song and dance again, you've seen him do this over and over again but you can't seem to get sick of it. It's like you're giving yourself excuses just to keep seeing him.

But they don't feel like excuses, not at all, they're just more reasons why you feel deeply, and so quickly for Minghao.

Again, the both of you talk about everything and anything under the sun, him walking you through all his latest pieces, him plans for new ones creativity vibrating through ever cell in his body.

You imagine him talking so passionately about the future, maybe even a future with you.

Before you could realize what you were doing, you’re holding onto Minghao’s shoulders for support,

and you lean up to kiss him.

Minghao fights the urge to kiss back, he fails.

His hands come up to cup the back of your head tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pouring all his emotions into the simple, gesture of affection.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from his cologne and the wind getting knocked from your lungs as soon as your lips met his. It was electrifying, finally feeling the warmth of his body pressed so close, yet so far from yours.

Oh, you wanted him, so, so badly.

He pulls away first, heaving from the intensity of the kiss, eyes in a daze. Meeting your eyes again, he couldn’t help but lean in for another kiss.

This time he's really pressing into you seemingly drunk off of the feeling of his lips meeting yours. He's just a man at the end of the day, a weak, weak man in the face of paradise.

He came back to his senses once he felt the cool metal of your wedding ring on his neck. Jolting back, he pushed your shoulders back, creating a significant distance between the two of you.

“I, I think you should leave.” He said turning to hide in his studio bathroom to collect his thoughts.

You stood there puzzled, did he not feel the same way you did? But why did he kiss you, twice? Something isn't adding up.

But moreover, you can't ignore the painful sting this rejection gave you. You wanted him, did he not want you? What was the point of trying so hard to make you fall for him when he just decided to back down when he finally had you?

You gather your belongings and leave the studio, the door clicking to lock behind you. The ride back was suffocating, it felt like you left a part of yourself in that studio with Minghao. And you fear that this may be the last time you see him.

You haven’t spoken to Minghao in the weeks following the kiss, your nerves on fire every time you remember how his pillow lips felt so right on yours.

You're standing in front of the mural. The one where Hephestus caught Aphrodite, his wife, and Hephestus, her lover, having an affair and having sex on their marital bed.

It's funny, looking at this mural. You spent your last weeks wandering his gallery, searching for his shadow, but he always seems to evade you so easily. He's marked you like a bloodstain on a pristine white dress, lingering like fog on a cold autumn day.

Winter is still young, yet you feel cold. So, so cold.

As if your most desperate prayers were heard, Minghao practically materializes next to you.

“Hi. I'm sorry I wasn't able to speak to you for the past few weeks. I'm a coward, a fool to run from you.” He said, both of you looking at the mural and not at each other.

Silence follows, you couldn't look at him, you couldn't speak to him. “Y/n I-”

“This isn't the place to talk about this.” You said coldly.

Minghao flinches a bit, not used to how icy your voice was. It usually greets him so warmly, so lovingly.

“Let's go out to drink, there's a bar that's walking distance from here, if you'd like go go with me. I have too many things to say to you, too many thoughts left unsaid. You deserve to hear them, at least.” He said, remorseful.

You really couldn't find it in yourself to stay mad at him. So you agree to walk with him.

The walk to the bar is silent, unlike your previous walks. You're so far from him, you even refused to hold onto his arm like you usually do.

It's early winter yet Minghao is sweating bullets, he's almost vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass. His nerves are all over the place, he's acting so out of character, nothing like the calm, cool, collected Minghao you've come to know over the past few months.

He takes a deep breathe before you both enter the bar.

A few drinks in and you’re already tipsy, “You know- hic- my husband is being a dick to me.” You drunkenly slurred, “This novel I’ve been writing for over two years now is fucking me in the ass- I- I want to finish it so desperately but all he does is sucks the soul out of me. He’s a giant pain in the ass-!”

Minghao snorts at this, loudly talking over the music of the bar, “Your husband is a fucking dick! Your work is amazing. If I were him, I would do anything to help you get rid of that writer’s block, you know, inspire you.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’d do that?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, “Thank youuuu hao bear~ you’re the best-!” You giggle into his arm, your weight pressing against his side. You’ve only known him for three months at this point, but his ideas and influence on your work improved your writing and motivation drastically.

“Hao bear? That’s new, you’ve only known me for- what? 3 months? You’re already calling me nicknames!” He holds the back of your head gently, pressing his forehead onto yours, “I should give you a nickname too… Starlight, how does that sound?” At this point, you tune out every other sound other than the sound of his voice and the pounding of your heart.

This man had you in a chokehold the moment you met him, you were fucking doomed from the start.

“Starlight? Yeah, I like it more than a little bit.” You say softly, your words almost getting lost in the noise of the bar.

“Let’s move to somewhere quieter, yeah? Tell me more about your work. We can head to my place to settle down for a bit.” There it is, the same dark, barely there smirk that plagues your stomach with butterflies.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Arriving at Minghao’s place, you take a quick look around his apartment. Everywhere you look is a pop of color, bold splotches of vibrant hues making the place look like it was pulled straight out of the 80s, “Hao, your place is amazing, the furniture brings me so much joy~” You giggle a bit, sitting down at the plush red velvet couch shaped like a seashell.

“Thanks! Most of the furniture is thrifted from retro thrift stores, I like this style more. It brings so much personality to the space.” He passionately talks about them, “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, and beer here.” He says, rummaging through his fridge.

“Oh, just water, please.” You say you have a feeling that you need to at least sober up for whatever the night brings.

He takes two glasses of water and places them down on the coffee table. It’s the only piece in the entire house that is a neutral color, a fine hardwood. You couldn’t tell what it was at a glance, not that it was important anyway.

“So, let’s talk about this book that you’ve been struggling to write now. Could you tell me what it’s about?” He asks, taking a swig of his water, you stare at his side profile while he does, sharp yet delicate features, his Adam’s apple bobbing from his drink.

Bro’s so majestic.

“Well, it’s about an artist who’s losing passion for his work, told from the perspective of his lover. It’s a spicy romance, with, in my opinion, a correct amount of sex scenes-”

“Give me a percentage of how much of it is smut.” Minghao interrupts you,

“Like… 75 percent?” He snorts at this, “Anyway, I’ve been stuck on the last spicy scene of the book, the climax, pun not intended,” You take a swig of your water, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have experience writing that sort of thing, or lack experience in sex either, but my sex life’s been such a drag with my husband being gone for long periods and-”

Minghao interrupts you again, “And he doesn’t fuck you right, does he?”

The forwardness of his words made you freeze, you contemplated whether to reject him here, to tell him it wasn’t appropriate to talk about this with you, especially about your husband. You know how Minghao looks at you. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he wanted you, but he never acted in any inappropriate way. He never makes you uncomfortable.

This was no exception. The swirling in your stomach wasn’t because of unease, no, this was because of arousal.

“No, no he doesn’t.”

He leans in, kissing you. This time he's not rushing, no more pushing and pulling, no more things left unsaid. He wants you, he'll have you. That was a promise.

He lifts you from the couch, lips never parting as he carries you to his bedroom, peeling each other's clothes, bumping into walls and furniture. But you couldn't care less, you were lost in each other's embrace and you can't think of another place you'd rather be.

Half-naked on Minghao’s bed, who, need you be reminded, was not your husband.

His hands roamed your sides, the heat from his palms warming your skin, causing it to flush, his soft, plump lips pressing feather-light kisses to your neck. You could feel his breath behind your ear, his hair tickling your cheek.

“How would your husband feel if he knew what you were doing with me right now?” He asks, clearly getting off on the fact that you were in his bed, getting ready to fuck him, a man who wasn’t your husband.

“I hope he’d be disappointed, but at this point, I think he forgot about me.” You say with a chuckle at the end, trying not to ruin the mood.

Minghao gently pulls away from you from that, “What?” he asks quietly, the word almost getting drowned out by the hum of the air conditioning, “Sorry, I know this was supposed to be a taboo, forbidden relationship thing but… I’m angry at him.” He says, avoiding your eyes.

“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, but I never felt this way before. It fucking kills me to think that a woman like you would be forgotten, for what exactly? Work?” He said anger gradually filling his voice. His hand reaches for your face when your eyes meet, thumbs pressing down on your cheekbone. The controlled and purposeful movement reminds you just how pliable you are under his touch. He sculpted you into what he wanted you to be; beautiful, strong, unashamed.

You gently cup his face, still hovering above you, “Kiss me, Minghao.”

And he did.

His lips met yours in a searing embrace, just the force of his passion against yours was dizzying, fiery desire clashing to make fireworks behind the eyelids that fluttered close. You never felt this type of longing from your husband, never felt his devotion being kissed through your lips like Minghao’s tongue was exploring it.

At that moment, you knew you were gone.

Minghao pulled away from you, hazy eyes meeting yours as the string of saliva that connected your mouths broke. At that moment, Minghao was stuck in a trance, his lips coming to meet yours over and over like he couldn’t stop tasting your lips even if he tried. A sweet ambrosia, too saccharine to stop. He’s become addicted to your lips molding onto his like sickly sweet honey sticking to his lips.

Out of breath, he grabs hold of your waist, rolling over to get you on top of him. He reaches behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra and letting your breasts fall free from it. He cups both of them while you sit up, grinding on his hardening cock through his boxers, he groans at this, reflexively squeezing your boobs.

Placing both of your hands on his pecs, you also give them a gentle squeeze. Minghao notices this and his gaze darkens, passing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. Your pussy clenches onto nothing at this, a soft gasp leaves you as you started to grind harder against Minghao.

His nails started to dig into your hips, his own desperately grinding up against you for more friction. Soft moans leave him as he throws his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering close just so he could focus on the sensations of your clothed cunt grinding against his cock through his boxers.

“God, get off of me before I cum in my underwear like a teenager.” He says with a playful groan, lifting your hips off from his crotch.

“Right, you still need to cum inside of me.” You say back playfully, his eyes darkened at this.

“Fuck, you make me want to keep you forever,” taking one of your hands and placing a kiss on your palm.

He lifts his hips only enough to get his boxers off, shimmying them off to somewhere on the floor near his bed. You also take this time to take your underwear off, secretly hiding it under his pillow when you lean down to kiss him again.

When you both pulled away, another string of saliva connected you two. You took two fingers to swipe at the liquid, bringing it down to rub your clit while you lowered yourself down to grind on his bare cock now.

Minghao hisses, “Fuck, I can feel how wet and warm you are, sweet christ.” he breathes out a shaky breath as you grind your bare wetness on his cock, lubricating the shaft for later. You moan at the contact, body slightly shaking from the friction of the tip of his cock hitting your clit occasionally.

“God, Minghao, fuck I need you inside me.” You desperately whine out. You lifted your hips up to finally hold his hard cock to align it with your pussy, slowly sinking on the thick girth. You throw your head back at the satisfying stretch his dick was making you feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good, so tight and warm,” He moans, he’s not shy about letting you know how good it feels with how vocal he’s being, he takes your right hand and holds it tightly, pressing it against his chest. You could feel his racing heartbeat under his skin, “Let me keep you forever, please, don’t make me beg, run away with me.”

You openly gape at him from this, You’d be a fool to accept this, especially since you’ve only known him for a fraction of the time you knew your husband, but god dammit.

“Take me with you, anywhere you want to go. I’m yours, please take me.” You say desperately. You’ve never been wanted this badly before, and god, you wanted more, for the rest of time.

Minghao abruptly thrusts up into you from this, tightly clenching your hand in his, still pressing on top of his racing heart under the skin. You cry out in pleasure, somehow the sensation of his heart under your palm elevates your pleasure, making you go dizzy at the thought that you’re doing this to him, and only you.

You come close to your climax embarrassingly quick, the sensation of his cock rubbing your velvet walls so perfectly made your head spin. Your ears are ringing so loudly that it almost drowns out your sounds of pleasure, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Minghao isn’t far from you either, the same dizzying effect taking hold of his mind too. He’s so close to finishing that he could almost taste it, his moans and whines of your name leaving his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even.

“Minghao I’m gonna cum-!” you say frantically, pressing your forehead onto his as he meets your lips with his for the nth time. You swallow the moans he spills into your mouth as you both climax at the same time. His heart still beating frantically under your palm.

“Did you mean that?” You ask breathlessly, “When you said you wanted me forever, did you mean it?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Exactly, I meant it word for word. Let me replace the ring on your finger with mine.” He smiles at you.

In the end, he did replace the ring on your finger with his, much more extravagant, and elaborate. Your husband wasn’t surprised at your sudden request for a divorce, since your marriage was already failing before you met Minghao.

Still, time was the ultimate truthteller.

Your husband found out about your High Infidelity around the middle of your divorce proceedings, and in a rage, he threw you and all your belongings out onto the driveway. In the middle of winter rain.

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

You finished your book, it received critical acclaim and it was a New York Times Best-Seller.

And you got to marry Minghao, the love of your life. Who you were happily married to until the both of you grew old.

FIN.

#seventeen fanfic #the8 fanfic #m: okiedokrie #p: mxr #g: smut #g: angst #f: oneshot #wc: >10k #r: 18+

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k-vanity · 1 day

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KPOP Zodiac Series: Taurus: April 21st-May 20th

sources found here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

#multi #hani visuals #iu visuals #baekhyun visuals #sunmi visuals #c: gifs #m: hobeemin

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k-vanity · 1 day

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take me home

For Seonghwa, another night, another opportunity to take off some of the stress of being famous— for you, a chance to turn a horrible night around.

seonghwa x reader (f) / angst, smut, idol au / warnings: one night stand, cursing, depictions of toxic friendships, alcohol mentions, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving) / wc: 8k — r: 21+

A/N: this is a work of fiction and do not depicts the real seonghwa or any public person mentioned on it. If it is familiar, it´s because this is a repost from my now deleted blog, with some small changes, enjoy!

Seonghwa lets out a loud and prolonged sigh. He ran his slender fingers softly through his perfectly styled hair and leaned his head against the backrest of the wide leather couch he’s sitting in. His eyes fluttered around the place, neon lights being the only source of light against the dim atmosphere. He bit his cheek, knowing it was a pity that he had to be in his private booth, this far from everybody.

He is bored, anxious.. “You are getting too picky” he muttered to himself, annoyed, because he knew that was bad for one of his biggest issues: timing.

His escapades to these lowkey night clubs were Seonghwa’s biggest source of freedom these days. He had it clear that if he got caught by some fan or reporter, his manager would take this from him, and the sole thought of being completely deprived of his freedom was depressing enough for him to give up entirely. A thing that he didn’t want to give in either. The comfort and status he had in the entire country and even in most parts of the world was a luxury he wasn’t ready to give up anytime soon.

Seonghwa knew he stopped being just a singer long ago — he was now marketable, a product. And as such, it was incredibly stressful having no time for himself, slave of the schedule imposed by the people who fill their pockets at the expense of his image, propense to be scolded like a child if he got caught having fun with someone else, probably his career ending in the process. These nights were the only thing that eased the weight around his shoulders.

So he tried to make them special every time, he wasn’t getting picky, he always was.

He crossed his legs, adjusting on his seat again, right hand holding his drink, the sounds of the ice cubes softly tapping against the glass relaxing him a little. From the level on the second floor, he watched the various silhouettes of people dancing, most of them intertwining bodies against each other, cheering and chanting loudly to the music. Taking another sip of his drink, he drifts his eyes to a group of people in the middle of the main dance floor. They were being loud, even surpassing the sounds over the music. Seonghwa scanned them quickly, sucking his teeth with impatience. He turned to the other side for a moment, when the sound of bottles crashing against the floor made him look back to the same group from before, clearly the signs of a fight about to happen. Seonghwa chuckled, at least someone was having some action tonight.

He kept looking at the scene amused for a few moments, watching how a man pushed another with such force, making him fly over a table to the right side of the bunch of people now onlooking the show. The guy knocked the table, spilling whatever drink was on top of it all over the person occupying the seat. The person jumped, a girl, bringing her hands to her mouth, scolding a scream.

You.

Seonghwa watched you attentively. The corners of his mouth slowly formed into a smile, eyes sparkling at the sight of you trying to push the man who was trying to hold onto you to get up. Like a lost lamb in the middle of the mountains, Seonghwa thought, your head looking in all directions looking for someone. You were obviously new to the place, and whoever you were so anxiously looking for nowhere to be seen. He watched you hurriedly and clumsily walk away, probably trying to find the way to the restroom. Quickly he finished what was left of his glass, but before he could stand up, the shadow of a person getting closer made him stop.

“Hey,” A guy approached him, inviting himself to sit on his side, hovering over him. His breath was so strong that Seonghwa could feel himself getting dizzy just by having the guy breathing beside him. He politely offered him a nod, moving slightly to the opposite side. “Are you alone?” the guy said, brushing his sticky fingers over the collar of his jacket, brushing his skin.

Seonghwa groaned softly, irritated and uncomfortable at the intrusion. The man was obviously stupid drunk, smirking and looking at him with sleepish eyes. He noticed a group of people eavesdropping a couple of booths away from him, and he got even more tense and irritated.

“I’m not interested.” He said calmly but firmly. The thought of someone noticing him and somehow making a rumor out of it always in the back of his mind. The man leaned closer, the stains of spilled drink on his half unbuttoned shirt invading his personal space.

“Come on, I don't bite,” he murmured. Seonghwa’s handsome features grin in disgust. With the corner of his eyes he looked down where the commotion was a few moments ago, hoping you had returned to your spot after cleaning yourself up. “I’m right here, pretty one” the man touched his jaw, making him look back at him.

“Fuck off,” Seonghwa groaned sitting straight, practically shoving the man off his face. The man scoffed, finishing his drink and leaving his empty glass on the table before standing up.

“Think you’re hot shit.” He cursed at him before leaving.

Seonghwa breathed out, rolling his eyes and standing up, walking far from the group of people the guy was returning to.

Quickly, his eyes were back at the area where he saw you before. A restrained smile drew on his lips, seeing you were back at your seat. Your hands playing with the strands of your purse, feet trampled over your heels. He could tell you were anxious and uncomfortable. No signs of the guys that knocked the table and made a mess out of your dress just you sitting there looking awkwardly over your shoulder to the people grinding against each other. You looked so out of place. To Seonghwa that was perfect, almost endearing.

On your seat, you start to feel dizzy. The first two tequila shots your friend Chae practically poured on you as soon as you got here were feeling heavy on your stomach. The scent of alcohol, sweat and who knows what else around you made you feel nauseous. You needed to go outside soon or you would end up making even more of a mess of yourself right there in front of everyone.

With impatient eyes you tried to find Chae over the crowd around you. Sadly, she had come to the club with intention, and that was to get back with her ex. Even when she found out he had come with another girl, still spent most of the night around him, completely forgetting about you. To your bad luck, you couldn’t leave on your own, since you had just moved to the city and had nowhere to go besides her apartment, bound to wait until she had finished her business.

Anxiety mixed with the acids on your stomach and the heat of the bodies and energy of the people around you were becoming too much, so you decided to go outside on your own for a moment. Completely lost looking for the main entrance, you found Chae, grinding against her ex boyfriend’s pelvis. You tried to call for her but your voice was muffled by the loud chatting and music, and she seemed to pay no attention to anything else but letting her ex touch her everywhere.

You felt hurt and disappointed. Still, you tried to get her attention, mostly wanting to prevent her from making the mistake of hooking up with him, knowing how badly he had treated her. As you tried to push people away and get closer, you suddenly lost sight of them, now trapped in the middle of a bunch of guys chanting and trying to get you to dance with them. Freaking out, you sprint in the opposite direction, barely getting away from the men now whistling and yelling obscenities.

Resigned to look for Chae after you had taken some fresh air, you continued looking for the main entrance. Soon you found a way down the stairs on the second floor. Walking down the steps you got to a metal door, a red exit sign above it. But as soon as you pushed it open you instantly knew it wasn’t a good idea.

Outside this side of the club was a dangerously looking alley, pitch dark, with a few cars around that looked almost abandoned. The only source of light was the neon sign of the club, Fireworks, just a few letters still working, too dim to light anything properly. You close the door, walking back upstairs. You didn’t know the area, so it was better not to venture alone, even to get a minute of fresh air.

The air on the stairs was cool enough, the ventilation coming from the ceiling and the absence of people helped to ease the insufferable heat from inside, so you decided to rest a little there, before heading back.

You sat on one of the steps almost at the top of the stairs, and stood still for a few minutes, fingers playing with the hem of your dress. It was still wet, the smell of vodka strong enough to make you feel nauseous again. Blowing the strands of hair from your forehead you looked up at the ceiling, almost blinding yourself because of the intense light of the led lamp that flickered above you.

Your first night out since coming to the city, and it couldn't be worse. You regret coming along with Chae, now confused as to why she even invited you if she pretended to spend the whole night embarrassing herself trying to get her ex back. What if she ended up forgetting about you and going home with him alone?. Your chest tightened. You shook your head, unable to let that thought go any further.

Swallowing a lump you hugged yourself trying to find some comfort in your own warmth, gathering strength to get back inside and look for Chae and beg her to take you back, or miraculously convince her to give you her exact address and keys for you to call a taxi. You called, texted but the messages were not read. Defeated you finally you stood up and decided to go back inside before she decided to leave you there for real.

Without lifting your eyes from your phone waiting for Chae’s response you walked back from where you came from, when you bumped into someone walking in front of you.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” you apologized, looking up, finding a young man in front of you. To say he was handsome was an understatement. His features were soft yet manly, plump lips with a soft smile on them as he bowed slightly accepting your apology. His hair was slicked to the back, showing a stylish undercut.

“It’s fine, I was distracted and didn’t notice you either.” He smiled again. With a little nod from his head you noticed a dangling earring strung from his left ear, the cross shape wagging softly.

He moved slightly aside to let you pass but you didn’t move. As if you were suddenly starstruck, you couldn’t move and your heart started thumping against your chest so loud you swear he could hear it. When you didn’t speak or move, he continued.

“I’m looking for the exit, is this the right way?” He asked, pointing out the way down the stairs from where you came from. The tone of his voice was low, but also calm and soft, you could swear you have heard it somewhere.

“Uh… yes. I mean no! it leads to the backstreet alleys I think.”

You felt embarrassed finding yourself stuttering in front of him. Still, there was some familiarity on his voice and face but you just couldn’t make it up where from. He nodded and with his hand motioned to let you go first.

As you walk past him, your hands squeeze your bag to ease the nerves, the shadow of his silhouette ghosting behind you. After a few steps you realized you were not going anywhere really, so you stopped, smiling nervously. “Uhm, actually I was also looking for the exit, so…”

“Oh, perhaps we could look for it together?, If you are okay with that of course.” His honey-like voice is soft but clear, even slightly muffled by the boisterous music. You could see his feline eyes glowing under the dim lights. A sparkle on them even.

“Yeah! It's fine.” You tried to sound relaxed, like it was no big deal, but you were sure your tone came up excited, jolted. Get off your cloud, he’s just being polite, you thought trying not to think he was somehow trying to initiate conversation with you.

Just like that he started walking comfortably beside you, his eyes looking up front. He was dressed casually in black pants and a light dark jacket half way opened, giving a good view of his chest. As casual as the outfit was you could tell the clothing was pricey. A couple of necklaces hung from his neck matching the expensive looking watch on his wrist. He was surely wealthy, it was obvious not only on his clothing but in the way he carried himself and the aura around him.

“I’m Seonghwa by the way,” he said suddenly as you went down to the first floor. Seonghwa, you definitely have heard that name before. “Can I know yours?.” He asked, brushing off your thoughts.

“Huh, Y/n.” your response came out so quick that made your voice sound wavered, and you could feel the blood rush running to your head. You told yourself to calm down.

“Cute name.” He smiled again and you swore you were staring too much.

Just before you were about to make an embarrassing comment in response, you heard a familiar voice coming from one booth right at the foot of the stairs, where you and Seonghwa were heading. Squinting you could distinguish Chae, mouth shoved against his ex's. Both entangled in a heated, and sloppy make out session.

“Oh no!,” you ran towards her, trying to get her attention. “Chae!, Chae please…” you called, still trying to keep your cool in front of Seonghwa, who looked at the scene with a calm expression.

“What, Y/n?” Chae whined, leaving his ex’s lips for a moment, while his hands went under the hem of her dress shamelessly. “Thought you had gone already.”

“Chae, don’t do that here!” your voice supplicant and ashamed at the same time. You felt guilty for worrying about what Seonghwa would think of you almost as much as trying to stop Chae from messing up with her ex, but to be fair, it was already too late to prevent the latter.

“I told you I was going to be busy,” Chae pushed his ex off, taking his hand instead and leading him upstairs. “Just leave already k’? Oh, and book a hotel room or something, I won’t be coming home tonight!” She said giggling, as the man pecking on her neck began kissing and touching her everywhere again as they went up.

You sighed out loud, watching your friend disappear on the second level. Ashamed, you offered Seonghwa a weak smile, as he approached you slowly.

“Are you okay?”. Your eyes met him again. Your silence answering his question. “That kind of night, huh?” He smiled at you sweetly.

“Well, yeah.” you accepted, depleting yourself on the nearest seat. “That was my poor attempt to prevent my friend from screwing up with her ex, but alas.”

“Hmm, yeah I would say there’s no stopping that,” Seonghwa sat down beside you, his thigh nearly brushing yours. You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to stay calm. “But hey it isn’t your fault

“So, that was your friend?.”

You blink at him, nodding your head in reply. Having him so close after being embarrassed like that was limiting your way with words. You clenched your fist and forced your eyes close trying to suppress a tear fighting to come out. You weren't sure if it was because of Chae’s attitude, or you wanted to appear vulnerable to the stranger beside you, probably both.

Seonghwa smiled again, innocent and sweet, and he looked so beautiful. He had to be aware of how attractive he was, and that he was making you nervous, there was no way he shouldn’t. And you wondered, after the shameful scene from moments ago, you were sure anyone else would have just left without even saying goodbye. But now he smiled at you, sitting beside you.

“Don’t be sad about that, drunk people say dumb shit.” He comforted you. His eyes were locked on yours as you lifted your eyes to meet his, and you saw that sparkle shining even more than before. “You’re too pretty, I would hate to see you crying.”

You let out a nervous giggle. “I’m sorry, but me?”

“Of course you, I don’t see why you would think otherwise.”

You wouldn’t consider yourself unattractive, but unable to fully believe him, you shook your head assuming he was just being sweet to make you feel better, but he looked at you with a serious expression, eyes not moving from your face. “Sorry, I’m not used to people saying that about me.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Seonghwa arched his eyebrows, lips slightly pouting.

“Seriously, have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” you tried to ease your nerves joking about how stupidly gorgeous he was, but he seemed to pay no mind. “How pretty can I be compared to you?”

“A thousand times more.” He answered simply.

An unusual warmth rolled down your chest, your jaw tightened and you could feel the heat of the place and your own body temperature going up. You looked down, focusing your eyes on the floor trying to avoid eye contact with him. The words he just said spinning around your head.

“Thanks, you are really sweet, though I really need to get out to get some fresh air,” the temperature seems to go up with each second.

“We still haven’t found the exit,” he replied with a playful smirk. “Want to join me still?.”

You nodded, and Seonghwa helped you stand up, taking your hand guiding you through the back of the club, avoiding all the people. You were still flustered about his words, but noticed he knew exactly how to get to the exit, and not even the main door, but one hidden from everyone’s reach, between the VIP lounges.

He’s familiar with this place, you thought, of course he were.

A few moments later you were outside, the cool breeze night crushed against your bare arms and legs, making its way under the skirt of your dress, and you inhaled deeply, filling your lungs until you were satisfied.

Seonghwa repressed a smile behind you, watching you close your eyes and extend your arms in the breeze against your skin.

So innocent, so untainted.

Seonghwa could tell this night would be so much fun. If you allowed him, and of course you would, he would treat you so well. Make you forget about the bad taste you just had, remember anything but his name. As you turned to face him after having cooled yourself off, he imagined how you would look under him, crying out his name, begging him for more.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes! Very much.” you smiled at him, and immediately looked away. “Huh, well, you surely have somewhere to go, and I need to look for a place to st-…”

“You could stay with me a little longer,” He suggested. “If you’d like, of course.”

You smiled nervously. You weren’t actually that naive, if he was asking you to spend more time with him, at this time of the night, you being alone and not knowing you didn’t have a place to spend the night, you knew what he meant.

So you looked at your options: on one hand you had nowhere to go, and didn’t want to wander around at this hour alone. On the other— even if he was unbelievably attractive, you just had met him.

“Let’s do this. I’ll give you a ride around until we find a place you choose to stay. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let you walk alone this late, please?.” Seonghwa pouted so sweetly, and you felt that familiarity about him again, but couldn’t quite know why.

After a moment you gave in, following him to the club’s parking lot to his car. Truth was you were drawn to him, no other guy you’ve met before looked remotely like him, and honestly you didn’t hate the idea of spending more time with him. Now in the passenger seat of a ridiculously expensive car, the situation is even more unbelievable to you. Handsome, sweet, considerate and rich? It was too good to be true.

Along the way he suggested a couple of places, but they looked too expensive and you refused his offer of paying for your night, not having enough money to pay for them yourself. Some time into the ride, you could see the sky getting cloudy, the air getting colder. Little drops of rain started to crash against the car’s front window, and soon rain was loudly pouring over.

Just like that, with the excuse of the rain, Seonghwa and you drove aimlessly for about an hour, he listened attentively to your tragic story since you came to live in the city alongside your not so good friend Chaehyeon, and he was joking trying to make you feel better. His charm was so natural and he seemed to be enjoying his time with you as much as you did. Even his small talk made you feel comfortable, soon easing your anxious mood, making you feel relieved to have accepted his company.

Being inside his car so close to him, you could smell his scent, and you had never taken in something more delicious. It was quick that you felt unable to resist getting closer. Maybe it was the aroma of his perfume, the atmosphere thanks to the rain falling down, tapping the top of the car, making the night feel even more surreal, but you started to wish for him to ask you to really spend the night over.

Was this moment real? The night had been the worst so far until Seonghwa showed up, making you feel relaxed, beautiful, and wanted. Him, being as attractive, charismatic, decided to stay by your side. It wasn’t that you were dumb enough you will be seeing him again after this night, but the feeling in your gut was stronger than your sense of realism. You wished for one time in your life, to do what you wanted to do without expecting some sort of consequence after. It was about time for you to have an exciting experience.

“Y/n?,” His voice broke again your train of thoughts. He had just leaned to the side of the street. “Tell me what you are thinking about?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, mustering all the confidence you could gather up. What came from your lips next was surprisingly clear, even to you. So much that you didn’t even recognize your own voice. “Can you take me to your place tonight?.”

Seonghwa’s face focused on you, eyes hovering over your lips. The sparkle from back at the club back into his eyes, like in slow motion, you could notice his chest heaved rapidly with heavy panting.

He was looking at you with an enamored expression, and even if you knew it was just the rush of knowing he would be taking you home tonight, it felt lovingly, everlasting. Hearing you say those words just like that was music to his ears. Your chest feels smaller all of the sudden. You were about to apologize to him, as he didn’t say anything. Then the world stopped, as he leaned closer to you, brushing his lips over yours.

“Yes, thought you’d never ask.”

The red light turned green, brushing his lips on you a little longer before turning the engine back on. The expensive car was running smoothly as if it was floating, so fast that the city lights around you became blurry, seemingly following behind you.

The ride to Seonghwa’s place was not long, he was driving fast, not too fast to make you worried about your safety, but fast enough to get there as soon as possible. He didn’t say another word, his eyes locked on the road, grip firmly holding the seething wheel.

Soon he was entering the valet area of a huge department complex. The building was so tall that it rose higher than your eyes could see more so thanks to the cloudy sky. Seonghwa took a u-turn as if to leave the place, but instead entered a basement parking area you didn’t see when you arrived.

Seonghwa twisted the car keys, turning it off when he had found the parking spot of his choice. You noticed this area was almost empty with just a couple of fancy looking cars a few spots to your right. You were looking at them when you could feel Seonghwa’s hand brushing your knee, making its way up, softly playing with the hem of your dress. The sudden touch makes you shiver.

“You know what happens, right? The moment you enter with me?,” His tone was barely a whisper, but deep enough to make you listen clearly. “You know what I will do to you?.”

For a couple of seconds you froze in place, looking at him straight in the eyes, watching them shine bright as the silver hanging from his neck. “I know.” you smiled softly.

Once outside the car, as he led you to the elevator, his fingers intertwined with yours, your heart was beating so fast that you swore it would come out of your chest at any moment. He let you enter the elevator first, walking behind you, same as when he opened his apartment door, closing it behind him the moment both were inside.

Just a couple of steps into the room and you were unexpectedly grabbed by the waist, Seonghwa’s hands roaming over the fabric of your dress, feeling the shape of your hips, he brushed his fingertips softly, then he grabbed your ass, squeezing it tightly in contrast. He buried his face on your neck, pecking over it softly. You could feel every inhale of his breath, hot and steady.

He kept walking without letting go of you, throwing his keys and doing the same with your purse as he pushed you with his hips into the room. With a quick movement he turned you to face him pushing you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your neck with both his hands holding it as he leaned down to kiss you. The soft brush from before was just a taste, now he was kissing you intensely, hungrily. Slowly lurching and sucking, one long kiss after another, only breaking apart to get some air.

You could feel your lips burning, the same sensation slowly gathering between your legs, making you feel a warmth that seemed so unfamiliar to you. He was only kissing you and you could feel your walls clenching, your underwear already wet. You tried to contain yourself but when he took your bottom lip between his teeth, biting it playfully, you could feel your legs giving up, making you stumble on your feet.

Seonghwa grabs you by the waist, trying not to make you fall. Your little display of weakness makes him smile brightly over your lips. He then leans, trying to take your lips in again but you stop him. With a palm over his chest, you take in a clear view of his features, feline eyes fixated on you, his pupils dilating, waiting.

Time seemed to be running slowly as you two stood up watching each other attentively. You closed your eyes, one hand taking the back of Seonghwa’s neck, slightly pushing him to kiss you again, he watched you as you did, until his lips touched yours again and he closed his eyes with you. Your hand seamlessly travels down from his neck to his back and then up front to his chest, feeling his firm form over the soft fabric of his vest.

You could feel your lips swollen already, his kisses feeling so deep and last longing. When he breaks the kiss to take some breath again, you take the chance to see his plump lips also puffy and slick, coated with your lipstick.

Seonghwa admits you awoke something in him. He sensed the awareness yet innocence, knowing he would fuck you tonight and probably be gone by the morning, yet you wanted that, you needed that. And that was exactly what he had in mind.

In fact, he craved that innocence and he wanted to indulge in you. He rarely felt anything but lust about the people he usually brought to this place. Most of them were incredibly boring, never shutting up about how they loved him , how they could make him feel so good , only managing to annoy him by how hard they tried. They were people he often used for release, to make himself feel greater about what he meant to them, and not otherwise.

You, on the contrary, seemed to not know who he was, and unbeknownst to himself, made the challenge of making you fall for him special.

Seonghwa took your hand and guided you to a room to the left, once inside he grabbed you by the waist, kissing you sloppily and hurriedly, before pushing you over the bed. He flashed a smirk reacting to you gasping for the sudden push and watched you grip the bed sheets, trying to get something to hold onto.

He started by unbuttoning his jacket quickly, confirming your suspicions that he wasn’t wearing a shirt under it at all. After that he crept forward to you, taking your shoes off and doing the same with his. When that was out the way he wasted no time, pushing your legs apart with his knee, now his full body on top of yours. Your lips pressed together, eyes shut tight. “Look at me.”

You opened your eyes to see him hovering over you, his fingers caressing the skin between your neck and chest. With his fingers he pushed your dress down, exposing more of your cleavage and he brushed the soft skin of what was out of your breast, your bra pushing them up was extremely sensual to him.

“I want you to see what I do to you, don’t hide away from me,” Seonghwa huffed, leaving a soft peck on the exposed skin of your chest. “You can touch me as well, don’t hold on, it’s okay.” The thin straps of your dress fell down over your shoulders, and Seonghwa cursed under his breath. He needed to rip that off you soon, but he decided to wait.

Lying there, watching his naked torso glow against the faint lights provided only by the lamps hidden on the ceiling, you placed both your hands over his chest, tracing delicate touches all over. You wanted to feel each of his muscles, the pads of your fingers taking in the warmth of his slim but toned body. You could feel Seonghwa’s breath pulsing every time you stopped on his abs or chest, like studying his form meticulously. You were clueless to the effect this had on him, not knowing how much he enjoyed being worshiped, desired.

As you touched him, now kissing every part you found especially beautiful, you could feel your skin burning where Seonghwa was squeezing you over, your thighs were sure to be left all bruised. Unable to hold on more, his hands went back to your chest, now pulling down the straps of your dress, all the way down until it was out on the floor.

He moved from over you slightly to take a good look of your form, how your push up bra concealed your breasts, looking like that was painful to you, but he loved the view. You went to put a hand over them, the usual insecurity hitting in by being suddenly so exposed to someone, but he stopped your hand by taking your wrist gently. “No hiding. You are beautiful.”

He sounded so sincere and loving, that you decided to believe him. You knew you weren’t the first person he said those words to, you knew you wouldn’t be the last. Even so, in this moment they were meant for you and you only, and that was enough to believe him.

Next, his lips went over to your neck, his tongue pressed against your throat sending shivers to your whole body. He smoothly slipped his hands behind your back, masterfully unclipping your bra and tossing it to the side without looking. Now with your chest completely exposed, he massaged your breasts first with his thumbs, then his tongue. He took sweet time kissing them until they were fully coated with his saliva, seemingly unable to stop savoring them, and it was driving you crazy. You didn’t want to think what was going to be of you when this was over.

After he was done with your breast his mouth continued his way below your waistline, surely leaving bruises every time he bit your skin where his lips landed. You couldn’t keep quiet, moaning at every single one of his licks and kisses, making him smile as he pressed his lips onto your sensible spots. Seonghwa softly chuckled hearing your cries of pleasure and God it was driving you insane.

You couldn’t hold on anymore and one of your hands was to look for the waistband of his pants, trying to push them down. “Please…” you whined.

“Please what?,”

“I want you.” your voice sounded desperate, needy.

He ignored you and pressed his lips now on your thighs, kissing them both over and over, trading you with soft brushes of his fingers over your clothed clit, soaking wet already. He wanted to fuck you already but he needed to hear more begging first.

You couldn’t bear the burning sensation between your legs any longer, trying to rub them together desperate for some friction. Seonghwa forcefully spread them apart, and continued to suck on each side of them, your cunt tightening with each passing second.

“Seonghwa, please …”

The sound of your lips moaning his name makes him jolt with excitement. He went up and leaned over you to watch you once more. Your breast and lips swollen, flushed skin and drowsy eyes looking at him, pleading him to be inside you. You looked so intoxicating.

Seonghwa couldn’t help but groan. A few minutes of kisses and some touches and you were already so needy for him. He could feel yourself trembling underneath him, making him proud of his decision of choosing you for this night. Now he needed to make sure that you would never forget the things he’ll do to you.

“So pretty.” He purred into your ear, brushing his nose over your cheek. His tongue then licked your lips softly, making his way into your mouth again. Your eyes instinctively close, letting yourself be devoured. You felt his hand travel down, brushing against your stomach as he started to remove his belt, the sound of the metal teasingly making you more desperate. “Close your eyes.” He ordered.

You whined at the feeling of him getting off of you, but it was instantly rewarded by the burning of his bare skin touching yours as he leaned over you again, now evidently completely naked. He warned you about opening your eyes until he said so, so you shut them down, your other senses widening.

You could feel hot breath over your knees and you knew he was about to make his way between your thighs again. It was still shocking when he spread your legs open, and you felt his breath against your cunt, so close you could feel the warmth of his mouth on you. You knew that after tonight it will be hard not to compare him to anyone else and that made you feel uneasy. The thought of never having anyone who could make you forget about what he was doing to you. His scent, his voice, everything about him was unbelievable and even right now, with him practically ripping your underwear apart, you still thought you were dreaming.

Once he got rid of the lacy cloth between his tongue and your core, he coaxed your entrance with soft pecks and you mumbled out his name again, breathing heavily each time you did so. “Open your eyes.” his deep tone resonated over your whimpers, and you did as told. You watched him just stare down, sharp eyes admiring your most intimate spot. You didn’t want to hide anymore, instead becoming proud of the lust that shone on his eyes.

“You’re soaked.” he said calmly, and a second after he made you yelp by the sudden touch of his tongue running along the surface of your clit. While he flicked his tongue inside you, he mumbled some words you couldn’t make up, the vibrations feeling heavenly over your drenched cunt.

Your legs were shaking from the pleasure. His large hands gripped your ass as he ate you out with urgency, making unholy sounds that you were sure would pop into your brain at the most unexpected moments. If he continued like this you could come at any moment, only holding back by the desire of having him inside you.

“Please… I want you,”

Seonghwa looked up at the sound of your crying. He was also ready, but he needed to taste you a little more before giving you what you wanted. He slowly rose on top of you again, giving you an open mouth kiss letting you know how you tasted. Your whining and pleading was music to his ears and the way you said his name fueled him with power. He was so hard you could feel his length pressing against your stomach, hot and thick, waiting for you to touch it.

Without thinking about it your hand moved down and your fingers wrapped around him. Seonghwa clenched his teeth, trying to repress a moan but he just barely managed to contain it. He kissed you again as you pumped his length steadily. Now it was his turn to be surprised, as you adjusted your position so his cock could greet your entrance, brushing his tip over your silky clit and pushing it inside firmly.

“Fuck….” He cursed, letting himself enter your walls in a single motion, covering his cock in your wetness. You bite your lip so hard that you feel a soft burn over them, probably hurting yourself, but that just added to the sensation of intense pleasure that you were experiencing. “So fucking tight,” He moaned, licking his bottom lip and locking his eyes on yours.

The bed rocked loudly with each time he pushed inside you. You tried to adjust yourself to the position, but a loud cry came out when Seonghwa gripped your thighs, spreading them even more and burying himself deeper.

“So perfect,” He mumbled to himself, head spinning at the intensity of what he was feeling. “Is as if you were made for me to be inside you.” He dragged his words, eyes dropping as he fucked you hard and fast. He never stopped looking at you, how you were unable to keep your eyes open, how you gripped the pillows around you looking for some kind of support.

Laying underneath him, feeling his skin crash against yours, his previously styled hair now falling over his forehead, sweat beads rolling down his neck, it was all too surreal. And the fact that he looked at you like he adored you. That made your blood rush violently to your head, making you dizzy.

Seonghwa admired his shadow casting over your body, making the rest of your skin glow. It looked like a painting. You trembled listening to his controlled moans, and he jolted everytime you whimpered out his name.

As he rocked his hips, at times pulling out entirely only to smash into you again, he could feel your walls clenching around him, trying hard not to come undone and wait until both of you were close. Your kindness towards his own pleasure made him feel even more attracted to you, his desire to pleasure you beyond expectation grew even harder. He also loved the noises you made, even if you tried to restrain yourself, you sounded so pure and innocent. He wondered when it was the last time someone had you like this, hoping you were really never being fucked like this before.

Seonghwa wasn’t trying to make himself feel better about using you to satisfy his own needs, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make you feel beautiful and desired too, you were too precious not to.

“Fuck, Seonghwa…” you moaned. He smiled against your lips, brushing his tongue over them. His hand then went down to your clit, motioning circles with his thumb, making you arch your back and firmly grab his arms, probably scratching them. He groaned at the pain, and told you to dig your nails even harder. You stopped thinking, digging them harder over his back, your head buried against his neck. He groaned loudly and your breath became heavier with him buried inside you mixed with the rubbing of your clit, impossible to contain your pleasure.

“Just like that,” he growled, “Let me hear you say my name over and over.”

You cursed out loud, muttering his name again and he reacted so loudly every time you did. Your sweat mixed with his felt incredibly intimate and you couldn’t dare to break apart from him. The familiar knot twisting and twirling on your low abdomen growing intensely. His name was the only thing you could say, forcing yourself to wait until he came with you, wanting to feel him spill inside you, as lustful as it sounded, you wanted to feel that, to feel him.

Everything became too much when Seonghwa took your legs, lifting them and throwing them over his shoulders, adjusting himself even deeper. You cursed at him, mostly because he was pushing you over the edge and you needed to let go sooner. He then grabbed your hair with his fist from the back, it hurted but you loved every second of it. For the brief seconds you could keep your eyes open, you see his face glowing, a devilish smile on his face enjoying the pain and pleasure he was giving you.

“Now you are getting close, fucking scream my name and I let go,” His voice was dark and eager, wanting you to come just when he told you to.

White dots flashing as you closed your eyes and rolled your hips to help you ride your release, too focused on the pleasure of the moment to notice Seonghwa had also come with you, filling you up to the brim, thick cum spilling out of you even if he wasn’t stopping.

As he slowly came down from his own high, Seonghwa carefully pulled out of you, letting you lean against the bed sheets, covered in sweat. You could see his skin shining, sweat covering him up entirely. He watched as you tried to incorporate and sit on the bed, feeling uneasy trying to somehow cover up the mess.

“Leave that, we’re not done” The words barely rolled out his mouth due to the tiredness. He pushed his drenched hair to the back, his chest swelling with each inhale.

“Seonghwa,” you mumbled, and he pushed the stay hairs off your face, leaning to kiss you again.

Next, you were on top of him, kissing him deeply, tongue buried inside his mouth exploring every inch, knowing after tonight you wouldn’t have the chance to do it again. In just a few minutes he was hard enough again to lead you on top of him, and just as fast your hips rocked back and forth with him buried deep inside you, the headboard of the bed hitting the walls loudly. Seonghwa looked at you as you rode him with half opened eyes, unable to believe this was the same girl that hours ago had her clothes completely ruined, looking totally out of place in the middle of the night club.

Seonghwa’s fingers were pressed against your hips, keeping you in place, guiding your pacing with his hands, helping you both reach your second release. “Come for me again, and say my name as you do.”

His words were not a request but an order, and you obeyed gracefully.

He pushed his cock even more and you cried his name loudly. As you ride your orgasm, your ears meet a heavy whimper and Seonghwa leans forward to you, his forehead pressing yours, he clenches his teeth, feeling your sweet release flowing down on him, the same time as his pulsing cock covers your walls entirely once more. He breaks the closeness to look down where your bodies are intertwined, pulling out and seeing his cum drip out of you again, and he wished he could have that sight every day from now on.

He’s trying hard to let go of the reality that will hit you both the next day.

“So fucking gorgeous,” He managed to say between heavy breathing. Your arms around his shoulders preventing you from falling to the side, his hands grabbing your waist, fingernails still pressing your skin, the touch burning.

He offers you a hand to help you sit up. You smiled shyly, taking it while having trouble standing up by yourself, and Seonghwa giggled.

“Come to shower with me?”

“Oh, Yeah, sure” you smile back, leaning to kiss him again.

“You are too adorable,” He smiled against your lips, guiding you to the bathroom, hugging you from behind.

Once inside the shower booth, twice as big as your whole bathroom back home, Seonghwa told you he will take care of you, not letting you even wash your own hair, instead scrubbing every part delicately. He washed your legs first, going up from there and taking time to rub the soap between your legs, making your knees weak all over. He shampooed your hair and massaged it, and you did the same with his. After you were clean, it was his turn, rubbing body wash into your palms you cleaned him entirely. Seonghwa’s eyes were closed while you did so, enjoying the softness of the sponge and your hands against his skin.

As you cleaned him up, your mind raced a thousand miles per hour. The image of Seonghwa sweaty on top of you, fucking you— was something you would never forget, you were sure of it. Now, after it has already happened, the uncertainty of what was next crept inside you, nerves and anxiety hitting you again.

“Seonghwa…” you said awkwardly as you two stepped out of the shower.

“Yes, angel?” Seonghwa reached for a towel for you, and took another for himself, drying his hair and body with quick pacing. You didn’t speak and he tossed his towel aside, getting closer to you. “You're thinking too much, you're still here with me, aren’t you?” He smirked, taking your towel and beginning to dry you up.

“Yeah, I am.” you closed your eyes, hugging him and kissing him deeply one more time, and many times through the night.

Hours later, minutes before sunrise, Seonghwa got up, dressed and called to order some clothes so you could change when you woke up. He made a special request for a similar dress as the one you had before, the staff were pretty familiar with his demands, so they proceeded to make the arrangements quickly.

He looked at his phone annoyed at the several missed calls from his manager, already exhausted about his packed schedule for the next hours. Just before leaving for his actual apartment, he looked at you for the last time, watching you sleep peacefully. The white bed sheets covered just half of your body, and he hesitated— wanting to leave a note, his number, something. Longing already to see you again knowing it was better not to.

“Don’t be stupid” he muttered to himself.

He stood up, standing, hesitating for a moment, before walking to the door without looking back.

When you open your eyes, you get blinded by the bright sunlight coming through the white curtains hanging up from the ceiling to the floor. You incorporate slightly, your whole body aching, and you smile, hopeful. Slowly you turn around to the other side of the bed, you shut your eyes tight, hoping to open them and find him lying still asleep next to you.

You smile, now dryly, to the empty side of the bed. You knew, yet still hurt.

Painfully, you stood up from the bed, going to the bathroom first, performing the usual morning rituals. After that you look up for your clothes on the floor, finding nothing. With the linen bed sheet wrapped around your body, you walk into the living room finding a rack of clean clothes in the living area.

You looked for a note but there was none. The clothes were casual and simple, but expensive. Some underwear, a couple of pants, some shirts and a dress, very similar to the one you were wearing before. You changed into a t-shirt and pants, and took the dress, folding it and keeping it in your bag, it was similar to the one you were wearing, a gift.

Just before you left the upscale room, you turned to look at it for the last time, feeling dumb and over-dramatic doing so. You pictured him there with you as it just happened not long ago and you felt your chest tighten.

“you're still here with me, aren’t you?”

“He did say it, didn’t he?”, you muttered to yourself, just as you walked out, closing the door behind you.

©mingsolo / please do not repost or translate to any other sites.

#ateez fanfic #seonghwa fanfic #m: mignsolo #p: mxr #g: smut #g: angst #f: one shot #wc: >5k #r: 18+

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k-vanity · 2 days

Text

𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘

ღPairings: Park Seonghwa x Reader (f) x Kim Hongjoong

ღGenre: pwp, smut

ღAu: rap au, rap duo au, groupie au

ღTrope: fan to lovers, idol x fan relationship

ღWord Count: 2,098

ღRating: 18+, MINORS DNI

ღSynopsis: when you pay for a vip package on the last show of your favorite rap duo, you definitely get what you paid for and more

ღWarnings: public sex, spit kink, grinding, breast play, hongjoong rapping about oral, oral (m&f), choking on cock, penetrative sex with no barrier, double penetration, going commando, smoking weed, alluding to seonghwa (selfish?) aftercare, alluding to Hongjoong cuckolding Seonghwa... just there's a lot, don't perceive me pls

ღDedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland my beta readers extraordinaire. @smallfrye only because you asked for this very nicely

ღA/N: posting today because... if you know, you know 😉😏😜

ღDivider by @cafekitsune

The lights went out in the theater where your favorite rap duo were performing. You scrapped up every bit of money you could in order to follow their entire tour when the dates were announced. You giggled, fulfilling your groupie life. Tonight was the final performance, and as the acapella lyrics of Wash it Away, oh, make it rain now sounded and the crowd went wild, you could only feel your heart burst with love and pride for your favorite artists.

Seonghwa walked past you, eyes not even lingering on your figure as he was in the zone already. Hongjoong, always aware and always polite, ducked his head in acknowledgement, a slight smirk pulling up at his lips before he joined his partner on stage.

You had splurged and bought a VIP pass for the final night. It included front row seats but more importantly, a chance to view behind the scenes. So that’s why you were in the wings, viewing the stage of Matz from an insider’s perspective. You were curious why there were no other fans around you but you figured that perhaps no one else was as crazy of a fan as you.

Hongjoong broke into his rap, kicking the air like he was kicking in a door and the lights flashed. Seonghwa paced like a caged lion behind Hongjoong, as the younger spit out his bars. Seonghwa shook his head back and forth as he growled his verse next and you sighed happily. No matter how many times you watched this performance, it was your favorite.

With the encore complete, and Matz thanking all the fans for coming out, they passed by you again. This time Seonghwa eyed you up like a tart on the streets, which sent a shiver straight down your spine but continued to where the stylists were looking to relieve him of his fur jacket. Hongjoong planted a hand on your shoulder, super friendly, and smiled with his grill.

“You’re the VIP fan, right?” Hongjoong mentioned casually.

You nodded eagerly. “You guys are amazing out there.”

Now it was Hongjoong’s turn to look you up and down. He cocked his head curiously at you. “Wait, I recognize you. You’ve been at the front row for all our shows?” Somehow, his grin widened. “You’re more than a fan… you’re a groupie now.”

You ducked your head, embarrassment heating up your skin. “Anything for you guys.”

Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow at you. “Anything?”

You stared at him, clueless to the undertone of his question. “Of course.”

Hongjoong laughed and clapped his hand on your shoulder. “That's the spirit.” That same hand guided you back to where Seonghwa was.

Hongjoong ditched his orange furry jacket and then whispered into Seonghwa’s ear. Seonghwa smiled with his grill and you shivered. The staff vanished as if they knew better than to stay around after a set was done. Sure, the technicians would need to take down everything, but that would be later.

“How much did our time cost you?” Seonghwa wondered out loud. You blurted out the sum and his eyebrows shot upwards in surprise before he grinned. He made eye contact with Hongjoong. “Guess we should give her the real VIP treatment then, huh?”

“The…” Your heart began to beat erratically as the two of them moved towards you, Seonghwa to your front and Hongjoong at your back. “Real?” You swallowed hard as Seonghwa's hands hovered over the curves of your body, tempting, teasing and Hongjoong’s deep chuckle sent a wonderful shiver down your spine. “VIP.” Seonghwa used his ringed hand to tip your head upwards to him and Hongjoong slid both of his hands over your hips. “Treatment?”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong said in a teasing but casual voice, “you are our super fan, are you not?”

You whimpered into Seonghwa's mouth as he slotted his lips to yours. He was not vicious, like you thought he'd be, but so gentle that it had you shaking with its quiet intensity. It was like he felt as if you were glass that he wanted to break but had to hold back from destroying the beauty.

Hongjoong was straight to grinding into your ass, proving he knew exactly what he was doing on stage. With each twitch of his cock as blood rushed to it fully, your pussy throbbed and you knew you were getting wetter and wetter with each careful grind into you.

Seonghwa grasped your jaw with one hand, eyes hooded and pupils blown. “Open up for me, Pet, show me who you belong to.”

You stuck out your tongue without another prompt and he spat into it and you swallowed it without another command. The smile that bloomed on Seonghwa’s face as a result was well worth it. “Good Girl.”

“Is she?” Hongjoong hummed behind you. His ringed hands cupped your breasts, thumb and forefinger stroking the outside of your boobs. When he found that you wore no bra, his chuckle was back again. “Oh no, we have a naughty, naughty girl on our hands.”

Seonghwa gazed down at your body as Hongjoong’s capable hands began to pull up the skirt to your dress. The dangerous look that came from seeing your naked cunt made you feel like you were a dinner he was about to eat up. “Someone was looking to get fucked when they came here? You're really a super fan,” he murmured to himself.

“Panty…lines…” You whimpered as Hongjoong continued to hold your dress aloft but his fingers dipped between the junction of your thighs. “Ruins the look,” you squeaked.

“Oh, yes,” Hongjoong agreed with you. “Panty lines would definitely ruin this.” Then he proceeded to bring his fingers to his mouth and clean them off. “She's so fucking wet.”

Seonghwa’s lips went to a firm line. “You get cunt this time, Hongjoong, but don't fucking tease me,” he growled.

“Precious, you're gonna let us spit roast you, right?” Hongjoong cooed behind you. He turned your head to look into his eyes that danced with glee. “Give this sweet mouth to Hwa?” His thumb rubbed against your lips as his fingertips brushed your jaw. He licked his lips as you willingly took his thumb into your mouth. “You're a little too compliant. He's going to have a lot of fun with you.” He pulled his thumb from your mouth and kissed you deeply, tongue licking the roof of your mouth, before pulling away.

Seonghwa had just finished undoing his belt buckle when you turned your attention back to him. He raised his chin as he lowered his zipper and pulled his pants down. He smirked when you gasped softly at the fact that he had gone commando too. “You get it, right? Damn pantylines.”

Bracing your forearms on Seonghwa, you took him as completely as you could; in your mouth, down your throat, without any hands. Seonghwa bit down on his lower lip, the glint of his grill coming from one of overhead lights from the stage. “Your mouth is absolutely heavenly.” Your tongue skimmed along his head and he had to reach down to grasp your hair.

While pulling you off of him, he stuck out his tongue as an order for you to copy. Hypnotized by that long tongue that you had seen on a computer screen on more than one occasion, you stuck your tongue out. Seonghwa tapped his cock on your outstretched tongue and you let him. You'd let him do a lot more.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong was humming to himself, making a little ditty to hype himself up. “You want me to do it now/do it good, lick that pussy like I should/right now, lick it good/suck that pussy like I should.”

You squealed again when Hongjoong crouched behind you, pulling your ass cheeks apart and licked you from clit to hole. “You really don't have to--” Your cheeks heat up from embarrassment, you know how wet you are.

“Then you really don't understand how much I need this.” Hongjoong laughed at himself and then buried his face into your pussy.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes at the noises of enthusiasm that came from Hongjoong as he ate you out. He pushed his cock into your mouth again, watching it as it obscenely poked against your cheek. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head from the pleasure Hongjoong was giving you, to the point where you couldn't keep up. Seonghwa choked you with his cock and then you came up gasping for air, coughing hard.

“Hongjoong, stop playing with her and fuck her already?!” Seonghwa commanded.

Hongjoong completely ignored Seonghwa and fucked you slowly with his tongue. You almost slid down Seonghwa’s legs before the taller man grasped your upper arms. “How am I supposed to fuck her when she’s delirious for your cock and ends up choking on mine?”

Hongjoong chuckled and the vibrations made you groan. He finally pulled his face out of your cunt, loudly licking his lips. “Regrets, buddy?”

Seonghwa grasped your jaw, none-too-gently this time, almost quaking with holding himself back. “I know this is a lot to ask but if you’d let me fuck your other hole--”

Hongjoong, from the corner of your eye, was holding himself and cackling. “How you gonna manage that backstage with no lube, Park, you’re ridiculous when you’re angry. Just get your dick sucked and deal.”

The two exchanged a heated look. Seonghwa didn’t blink, nor break his glare with Hongjoong and he made out with you, tongue sweeping through your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. You didn’t know which way was up after that kiss.

“Oh, now you’re just showing off, you asshole,” Hongjoong said, sounding like the pouty one now.

“I can try,” You whimpered quietly when you finally found some brain cells rattling in your head.

Seonghwa smiled confidently. “Knew you could do it, Pet.”

That’s how you found yourself between some speakers, Hongjoong fucking your cunt and Seonghwa fucking your puckered hole. The feeling of being double stuffed was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and the fact that you were getting fucked by your two favorite rappers didn’t go over your head. Seonghwa’s expressions were lost on you from behind but his ringed hands were pressing into the soft flesh of your breasts. Hongjoong was too concerned with watching his dick move in and out of your cunt, but that too was too hot in itself.

“You’re so creamy,” Hongjoong noted as he watched your cum coat his cock.

You whimpered in embarrassment and that caused Hongjoong to chuckle again. “Careful, you might lose your naughty girl image.”

You felt overwhelmed with the pleasure coursing through you, and also the feeling of having to pee. Was it the weed you had smoked during the break between the opening act and Matz? “Wait, I think I’m going to--” You clawed at Hongjoong’s shoulders.

“Fuck her harder, Seonghwa, I think she’s about to squirt all over our designer jeans.” Hongjoong grinned like you were about to give him the greatest gift there was to give.

Seonghwa simply grunted in response, the noise of his pelvis slapping against your ass only getting louder. With a loud growl, he emptied into you, and as he pulled out, you could feel his cum dripping out of your gaping ass. You didn’t have time to get even more embarrassed, however. Hongjoong sent you through your own orgasm. You screamed wordlessly, bucking your hips to ride out your high. Hongjoong came soon after you, watching you indeed squirt all over his designer jeans. He came with a high pitch moan, completely opposite of Seonghwa’s growls, but still delicious noises.

Hongjoong held you carefully as you unfolded your legs from around his hips. You were literally dripping fluids from between your thighs and you couldn't be living anymore of a wet dream. “I…”

Seonghwa’s eyes were on the pool of liquids on the floor between your feet. “Maybe we better take her back to the dressing room.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “You’re just dreaming about cleaning her up with your tongue.”

Seonghwa smirked, his tongue coming out to lick his lips. “And what of it, Hongjoong?”

Hongjoong sighed and looked around. “Better make it quick. We need to be on the bus soon.”

Seonghwa put a friendly arm around you and guided you further backstage. “I think we’re taking a snack with us.”

“Well you better share better than you did just now because I’m about ready to cuckold you,” Hongjoong muttered under his breath.

Yeah… those VIP tickets were worth their price and more.

Taglist: @hijirikaww @flurrys-creativity @mingsolo @starlitmark @stardragongalaxy @k-pop-ology @pyeonghongrie

#ateez fanfic #seonghwa fanfic #hongjoong fanfic #m: sanjoongie #p: mxr #g: smut #f: oneshot #2k #r: 18+

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k-vanity · 2 days

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Hey I am an author that has recently started writing. The thing is this may I would be officially 21, would it be ok if I try to join your network ri8 now ? ?

Hi there! Here are the rules to join our network but to sum it up, you would have to be at least 21 to join and have a link of your work listed when you fill out the application. Make sure you follow the link above.

I hope you are having a good weekend <3

#replies

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k-vanity · 2 days

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Ever A Never After — story masterpost

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Summary | Growing up in the fairy tale land, your whole life seems to have been written perfectly in the books, with the picturesque life and the Prince Charming that you can see yourself having your happily ever after with. But your entire world turns upside down when you are suddenly sent into a whole new world, a different kind of universe where happily ever after doesn’t exist. Thrust into a new challenge and shown a new side of life, you find yourself standing in a crossroad. When the moment arises, would you find your way back home to your true love, or is the universe trying to show you that sometimes happy endings don’t have to be written so perfectly?

⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Angst, Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; specific warnings will be added accordingly on each published chapters ⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: — - n/a words of n/a words ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion

⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

⟶ Story Note | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). In place of the coding, you’ll find a blank space as her name. Please also note that our main character/reader insert for this story has her own nickname that will be used in the scenes. While the story is adapted from the movie, Enchanted, with some characters and places that were mentioned in the movie added into this story, I will be adding changes in the story settings, characters’ names and background stories to fit the plot. That being said, as someone who has never set foot in the land of America, forgive me if there are some inaccuracies in the details that are being added here. I hope that doesn’t change your reading experience with the story.

⟶ Chapters

⇢ Act One. Andalasia, The Maiden, and The Dream Prince

⇢ Act Two. The Alter World and The Saviour

⇢ Act Three. Fairy Tales and Bittersweet Endings

⇢ Act Four. The Ball for The Kings and Queens and Dragons

⇢ Act Five. Prince Charming and a Happily Never After

⟶ Patreon specials

⇢ visual inspiration board

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | It’s finally here! I’m so sorry for taking so long with this one. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. As mentioned in our last talk, there will be some changes from the original prompt/details that I’ve made to make the story work better, but I hope you’ll be able to enjoy it still. I have decided to release this one as a mini-series to present the timeline more appropriately and make the storyline work. Have fun reading!

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jin fanfic #m: yoonia #p: mxr #g: angst #g: smut #g: fairy tale #f: teaser #f: masterlist #r: 18+

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k-vanity · 2 days

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#sunmirevival Week Three: favorite look ↳ STRANGER relay dance 211023

#sunmin visuals #c: gifs #m: visualqueens

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k-vanity · 2 days

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⋇⊶⊰THE CELEBRATION COLUMN ⊱⊷⋇

Today, K-Vanity Magazine would like to reserve this section to highlight one of our members. Before we continue any further, we’d like to wish the ever so talented and amazing Raven @shadowkoo a very Happy Birthday!! May your day be filled with joy and positivity.

- KVM

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

#birthday post

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k-vanity · 2 days

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⋇⊶⊰THE CELEBRATION COLUMN ⊱⊷⋇

Today, K-Vanity Magazine would like to reserve this section to highlight one of our members. Before we continue any further, we’d like to wish the ever so talented and amazing Theo @honeyhuii a very Happy Birthday!! May your day be filled with joy and positivity.

- KVM

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

#birthday post

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k-vanity · 3 days

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#sunmirevival Week Two: Favorite stage/performance ↳ waterbomb, dmc festival + korea university

#sunmi visuals #c: gifs #m: visualqueens

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k-vanity · 3 days

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Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter.

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement.

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding.

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy—

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back.

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor.

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop.

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place.

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough.

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now.

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation.

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette.

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it.

“You know those things will kill you, right?”

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.”

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs.

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means.

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music.

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach.

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name.

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection.

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct. “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence.

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?”

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance.

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down.

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin.

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf.

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his.

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else.

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs.

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation.

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along.

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.”

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books.

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months.

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk.

“Taehyung.”

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs.

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers.

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch.

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours.

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again.

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth.

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull.

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive.

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder.

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider.

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted?

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been.

“They were out.”

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing.

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.”

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines.

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.”

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?”

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen.

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen.

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning.

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom.

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?”

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back.

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt.

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg.

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely.

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head.

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy.

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth.

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry.

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down.

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens.

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load.

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side.

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth.

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter.

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school.

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed.

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument.

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now.

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt

#bts fanfic #suga fanfic #m: highvern #p: mxr #g: fluff #g: smut #f: oneshot #9k #r: 18+

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k-vanity · 3 days

Note

If you’re interested in writing it, I would love to read a part two of “the one with Chan and the promotion”! It’s so sweet and cute and I go back to it when I feel sad or sick and just want someone to take care of me lol.

aw, i’m so glad you liked it! here’s part two ✨

the one with chan and the promotion pt. ii

you needed a ride home after getting your wisdom teeth removed. chan just so happened to be free.

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader genre: fluff, hurt/comfort au: fuck buddies to ? type: drabble rating: 18+ — minors do not have my consent to interact with me or my work. wc: 1.3k cw: reader’s pov this time!; no smut but it’s referenced due to the nature of their relationship; reader had outpatient dental surgery (not depicted); reference to blood/swelling. a/n: this is a continuation of this drabble, which @moni-logues requested last year. in order for things to make sense, please read pt. i first! navigation. skz permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist. request rules.

Upon waking up, the first thing you do is take inventory.

The list of things you don’t have is the longer of the two: four of the teeth you initially left home with, a blanket on top of you, your bearings, or any substantial memory of the how and when you got back to your apartment.

What you do have is a pair of slippers on your feet where your shoes used to be and a hand in yours, warming your palm. Bleary-eyed, you stare down at the five fingers interlocked with yours while your brain scrambles to load. It doesn’t. You swear you hear the Windows XP error noise sounding off in the back of it when your eyes flick up and find Chan’s closed, fluttering ever so slightly as he sleeps.

You don’t mean to voice your surprise out loud, especially not above a whisper, but it slips past lips still buzzing as sensation returns. “Christ!”

Chan doesn’t startle, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. His roommate, who you’ve heard tell of but never met, is apparently prone to sudden shouting, apropos of nothing. He does stir, though, just slightly.

“No,” he mumbles without opening his eyes. Though he doesn’t witness the quizzical look you give him, he must suspect your confusion, nonetheless. Stifling a satisfied, albeit sleepy chuckle, he jokes, “My English name is pronounced Chris.”

It’s then that his eyes crack open, taking you in immediately and softly, pupils dilating. He’s never looked at you like that before. You don’t know what to do with it.

Flustered, you divert your gaze to your hands the way you always do, only to find that one of his is still holding one of yours. You don’t know what to do with that, either. To cover the fact that you don’t know what to say, you clear your throat, hoping the words will materialize after a bit of stalling. They don’t.

Chan, noticing your preoccupation, interjects and sits upright next to you on top of your still-tucked-in comforter. “Oh.”

He retracts his hand. A sheepish smile spreads in tandem with a flush of red across his cheeks and neck, so heated with embarrassment you can almost feel it from several centimeters away.

“Had a hell of a time getting you through the door and getting your shoes untied,” he starts, laughing awkwardly.

Oh, indeed.

You’d asked Chan to drive you; called him specifically for that singular task because your other, closer friends — the ones who haven’t seen you naked — don’t. On top of their collective lack of licensure, you know them all too well to trust any one of them with wrangling a highly medicated person on public transit. You’d be a liability in and of yourself; your chaperone couldn’t be a disaster, too.

Going into this, you’d believed that Chan had his shit together well enough to get you from Point A to Point B in one piece. You were right. He did, and even though he could have, he didn’t stop there. Not only did Chan get you inside, but he also swapped your shoes for slippers to avoid dragging dirt into your apartment.

He rubs the back of his neck, continuing, “You — uh — well, you wouldn’t let go after I corralled you in here.” The hand fussing with the hair at his nape gestures vaguely around your bedroom, which he’s seeing in sunlight for the first time ever, not unlike the way he’s witnessing you.

Once again, you search for words and come up with none.

There was no expectation of gratitude motivating his powerfully quiet act of kindness. Clearly, he didn’t expect to still be here while you napped off the lingering fog from the anesthesia. But he is here.

“I must have quite the grip when I’m high,” you manage to offer.

A way to ask without truly asking: Why are you still here?

Chan snorts, then he shakes his head while he answers, “Nah, you moved like you were made of jelly. I just didn’t want you to cry again.”

Somewhere, a record scratches. Your eyes go wide, expression otherwise withheld to keep your shock and mortification to yourself.

Again?

Vulnerability isn’t a thing you do. It took all you had to ask for his help in the first place. You’d rather drop dead on the ground than cry in front of anyone, let alone the person you keep at arm’s length and still sleep with on a recurring basis. Absolutely not. There’s no fucking way.

“What?” You croak. Almost as embarrassing as the crying, your dried-out throat and the hoarseness of your voice leave your face burning. You clear your throat again. It doesn’t make a difference. “Why did I cry? Pain?”

Fuck, you hope so. You pray for some yet unknown, minor surgical complication that would justify this uncharacteristic crack in your armor. For some excuse you can lean on.

“Worms,” Chan chirps with a shrug, as if that explanation truly explains anything.

You balk. “I would never cry over seeing a worm. It didn’t even rain this week; there wouldn’t be any on the sidewalk.”

He clamps his lips together for a moment, like he’s steeling himself, trying not to laugh in your face. You appreciate the gesture, kind of. Rather, you would — if he had a better poker face. The one looking back at you instead looks fully endeared, which makes you more embarrassed than his laughter ever could.

“I ran into the pharmacy to grab your pain meds, and when I came back to the car, you were sobbing. I was freaking out, thinking you were hurt or something, but no.” His grin comes at full force. “You were scared that worms may not have best friends.”

Oh, my god.

“Oh, my god,” you groan, this time out-loud. Instinctively, you drop your burning cheeks into your hands, hissing in pain the second they settle. You jerk backwards, yelping, “Oh, my god.”

Proving his attentiveness in real time, Chan shifts closer quickly, like a starting gun has been fired. His hands encircle your wrist gently, prompting you to look at him. Once he has your attention, his eyes scan your face in search of visible injury. A triage of sorts. Worry evident, he checks in: “You good?”

Yes, and no.

Yes, your gums are especially sore now that you’ve put excess pressure on them; but no, there isn’t a mouthful of blood hiding behind your tightly pursed lips.

Yes, you feel safe and cared for with him here; but no, you’re not fucking used to it, and it’s making your blurry brain spin.

How are you supposed to answer that question? You don’t even know which one he’s really asking. Before you say a word, you take inventory again.

What you have is Chan in your bedroom while the sun is still up, fully clothed and above the sheets. He’s here because when he tried to leave, he gave into your small act of subconscious resistance, too afraid of upsetting you. He stayed. He’d witnessed you cry about worms, and he stayed — perfectly still at your side long enough to fall asleep.

What you have is medication to deal with the pain you just exacerbated because Chan went out of his way to pick it up from the pharmacy.

What you have is heart palpitations, a different type of nerves blooming when you realize that dispelling his worry now will result in him taking his reactive touch away.

What you don’t have is the strength of will to lie to someone who looks at you the way Chan currently is, like he may not be able to breathe correctly unless and until he knows you’re okay.

“Yeah,” you eventually sigh. “I am. I’m good.”

In fact, you’re even better when he and his hands choose — once again — to stay.

while likes are appreciated, comments/tags/reblogs with your thoughts are really what make my brain go brrrtt.

skz permanent taglist: @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sourkimchi @stayceebs97

multi permanent taglist: @jihopesjoint @bahng-chrizz, @notevenheretbh1

#stray kids fanfic #bang chan fanfic #m: eoieopda #p: mxr #g: fluff #g: hurt/comfort #f: oneshot #1k #r: 18+

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k-vanity · 4 days

Text

Haru Haru (svt smau)-twelve: rumor has it

Summary: Your friend, Soonyoung confesses to you in some form all the time despite knowing you don’t like him like that. But what happens when suddenly someone becomes interested in him and he eventually stops confessing to you?

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: smau, college au, fluff, angst, and comedy

Warnings (for the chapter): PG

Rating (for the chapter): none

Soonyoung’s POV:

Y/N’s POV and socials:

CHAPTER ELEVEN | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A/N: erm, well? things are happening lol

Taglist: @wongyuseokie @gyuwoncheol @horanghater @lvlystars @hamji-hae @isabellah29 @hoichi02 @thepoopdokyeomtouched @aaniag @nishloves @sana-is-ms-rmty @itsokaytobedumb00 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @lone-lone-ranger @v0-0iddd

Please send an ask to be added to the taglist!

All works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works.

#seventeen fanfic #hoshi fanfic #m: wooahaeproductions #p: mxr #g: fluff #g: angst #g: comedy #g: college #f: series #f: social #r: pg

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k-vanity · 4 days

Note

hii there!! hope you doing well >_<!!

can i request for poly mafia ateez x reader fic? their boss are dead for 2 years and they just found out that he has a daughter. and they began to search for her n when they found her, they swear to her that they will take care of her, but ended up falling in love with her?

thank you so much!!! ;)))

To keep you safe

Pairing: Mafia!ot8! Ateez x f!reader

W.C: 3.3k

Genre: Fluff, Mafia, Romance

Warnings: mention of mafia deals, attempt to murder, blast, tracking device, spying on someone, tying up with rope in warehouse, unconcious, poison, feeling sorry, sad, comfort from mafias, lots of kissing, getting shot, mention of blood(not detail), confession, hidden daughter, scared idk what to add anymore

Network: @kvanity-main

A girl running in the rain, clutching her purse to her chest and heavily breathing while frantically looking in every direction. Her scared pupils and parted lips allowed the heavy and forced inhale and exhale of air, raindrops sliding into her mouth. Her heels were almost making her lose her balance, she didn't want to fall down or she would get caught.

The rainfall intensified with loud growling sounds of lightning. The only thing that was going through her mind was to run away from the two men following her. She took a sharp turn around the road and hid behind the car.

Pressing her palms over the mouth and wide eyes stared at the distant road ahead. Her house was still a few blocks away and the feeling of dizziness returned but she scooted into the darkness and suppressed her fear and the sound of her panting.

Soon, within a few minutes, the footsteps came into her vision. Two silhouettes making their way towards the alleyway and in fact, that needs to cross the car which was hiding her scared form. A series of hope and prayers rushed to her mind and fell from the lips and mentally supported herself to stay stronger.

The scared pupils followed each step they took. The moment they stopped and looked at her direction, her breath hitched and cursed under the breath when she noticed them coming towards her exact direction. But before she could shift an inch, someone pressed their palms over her ears from behind and then she could hear the sound of two faint gunshots.

"It's okay, y/n. you are safe."

The soft voice from behind you and the stranger's hands touching your skin made your eyes shoot open and you shuffled forward, keeping your distance from the person. The first instinct in you worked was to look over to the place where two men from earlier were but to your surprise, there was no one. You stood up from your place and quickly stepped out of the darkness and you screamed.

Two bodies were lying on the road. The two men who were following you while you were returning from the café were lying on their own blood pool.

"Hey, calm down."

The same voice again spoke up and you quickly looked behind to see a boy, maybe around your age, was standing with a little smile but to the contrast of his facial look, his outfit was different, oh the gun holder strap on his waist and the belt designed over his black jacket. He looked scary with an angel face.

"Who are you? Are you going to kill me? and and how do you know my name?"

He nodded to himself before taking a few steps forward but before he could walk any farther, you yelled at him to stop and the way you were scared, he instantly stopped. There were few other footsteps coming from both of your sides. One, two...three...seven figures appeared under the streetlight. The rain was still pouring but it was less intense than before as if it had also got scared by these men.

"Who are you all? What is going on?"

The boy who was standing a few feet away from you smiled again and introduced himself, "myself Yeosang. We are just here to take you back home."

"home? I don't understand what you are saying." You were pleading with him not to hurt you and a different boy from the seven figures surrounding you but keeping a safe distance from you spoke up, "there's nothing to be scared of, y/n. you are Mr. Lee's daughter and we are here to take you to his place."

They know my dad...they are here to kidnap me to know about my dad's business but......he is dead and I can't ask for help from him. I don't know anything about his mafia business.

"I don't know. I am not close to my dad. He is dead. What else do you all want now? I know nothing about him. Please, I am telling you the truth. You won't get to know anything from me about him. I really don't know."

"We know he is dead. That's why we are here to ensure your safety. We are here because your dad isn't there to protect you." The tallest one of them spoke up.

You shook your head and stepped back when the dizziness from earlier returned. It did get noticed by the oldest one of them and he caught your limp body, "y/n, it's raining. Let's go home and then we can discuss everything."

You pushed him from you and stood straight on your heels, "no, I'm not going anywhere. I can't trust you. You all are lying."

"Didn't your dad tell you about the leaders of his organization?"

" he did..."

"We are the leaders of the organization, the most trusted gang of your father, Ateez."

You stared at them because the name is familiar but why to take you to somewhere you never went before. Your life was always at risk and that's why your dad kept you hidden but maybe his death led to uncovering your identity to other mafia gangs. But if they are the leaders under your father's organization, that does mean they are on your father's side.

"you all are my dad's men?" you asked in a low voice. The drizzling rain was pinching your skin, should you trust them or not. The thought was itching your mind.

"We might be mafias but we are always loyal to our boss. Please come with us." The leader extended his hand with a smile.

And you trusted them.

Taking the leader's hand and grabbing it with a hope to be safe.

You never thought ever that this was going to change your trajectory of your whole life.

“We are here to keep you safe.”

>>>><<<<

In the bustling city, amidst the towering skyscrapers and bustling streets, there existed a huge, tightly-knit advertising agency called "THE GUERRILAS". For two years, the agency had been led by a charismatic and respected boss, Mr. Lee Sohyun. His sudden demise due to a heart attack had left his men and the successive leaders reeling with shock and grief. Among them, Ateez, his loyal gang and the main future successors took the initiative to take over his place with announcing their gang leader as the new boss, who all had worked closely with him for over a decade. Every other being in the company supported the idea and welcomed the new project of the company.

As the agency mourned their loss, Ateez stumbled upon a startling revelation buried within Mr. Lee's personal documents – he had a daughter, Lee y/n, from a previous relationship. Despite his private nature, he had never mentioned the daughter to anyone at the agency. Determined to honor their late boss's memory and fulfill his unspoken wishes, Ateez embarked on a mission to find his daughter.

“I didn’t know he had a daughter.” Seonghwa stated while looking at the documents presented by his gang member, Yeosang.

The leader, Hongjoong nodded, “He really hid her well but after his death. Many men betrayed him and leaked his personal information and the least we can do is to start with protecting his daughter.”

“Then let’s find Y/n. I hope we can bring her safely.”

Months of diligent investigation led them to a quaint town in the upstate, where you resided.

Their several initial attempts were failed missions.they certainly didn’t want to scare you but also not to give up in their enemy’s hand. So, they planned to approach you slowly and cautiously.

Unless that day when you were followed by members of an enemy gang and they saved you from danger.

And that day you accepted a new fate in your life.

Moved by Ateez's sincerity and touched by their efforts to connect with you, a wave of emotions hit your heart. Over cups of tea, you delved into heartfelt conversations with them, sharing memories and anecdotes about your father. Despite their vastly different backgrounds, you found solace in their company, united by the love for the man who had brought them together.

you listened intently to their explanation of the situation after your father's death, your emotions oscillating between disbelief and curiosity. As they shared anecdotes about your father's life and their time together at the agency, a bittersweet realization dawned on you – finally found a piece of your father's past that had long eluded.

"You don't have to be polite or formal with us. Think of us as your friends. You are our boss's daughter." The young boy smiled at you.

You chuckled, "Wooyoung, I'm trying. I think it would take time but this new place and new people and even staying with you all is such a new experience for me."

"You can come to me anytime. I am always here to accompany you and make you feel at home."he said and brushed his hair back. He glanced at you, who was smiling admiring the beauty of the garden. "Do you want to take your father's position?"

The question caught your attention and quickly turned towards him, you noticed him avoiding your gaze and gulping, "No." The answer was direct and simple.

He again questioned you, "why? Don't you think you are the actual successor of the boss?"

"I don't know a single shit about this life and also, I trust Hongjoong. You all proved your loyalty to my dad. You swear my protection and extend his hard work. So, you all are the actual successors." He nodded at your words.

"No cursing from a pretty girl." Yunho approached you two and handed over a sweater to you. You looked at him with a questionable look.

He held the sweater in front of you and urged you to put your hand inside the sleeves, "don't catch cold in the early morning while wearing just a full sleeve shirt. And Woo, can't you wear a full sleeve?"

The said man rolled his eyes at the tall one and sat on the bench with crossed legs, "I will be off to gym in half an hour. No need."

Yunho placed his hand on your shoulder, "would you mind a little walk with me?"

"Of course not. I would love to explore the neighborhood."

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and you found yourself drawn to their warmth and resilience. You admired their strength in the face of adversity and their unwavering determination to carve out their own path in life and also protect you in the process.

In your presence, they discovered a sense of belonging they had never experienced before.

As their bond deepened with you, they grappled with conflicting emotions they never thought possible. They had sworn to themselves that they would take care of you, but their feelings for you were evolving into something more profound and complicated. Torn between their loyalty to the late boss and their burgeoning love for you, they found themselves at a crossroads.

"Surprise!"

The boys in the living room turned towards the voice. You were exiting the grand space of the kitchen area with a huge cake in your hold. Carefully, placing it on the table in front of them, you placed your hand on your hips and waited for their remarks.

The leader was the first person to tune in with the surprise, "what's a cake for?"

"You all did well on your last mission and for the past few days, all of you were busy so I decided to bake a cake for you all today as I noticed none of you left the house. No work?" You expectantly looked at them.

They exchanged a few glances between them and before Wooyoung could say something, Seonghwa smiled and got up from the chair. The royalty of the grand hall of the mansion was sitting right with his rich mafia look even in just a plain black shirt and pants. He approached you and patted your head, "we don't have work today. Do you have something to say? Or to do something?"

You nodded and turned towards the rest of them, "have a taste of my most ordered cake. Before moving in with you all, I used to work at the cafe in my previous place. And people requested this cake everyday."

"Really? Then we should taste it. We are getting the privilege to have a demanding item without showing our powers." The leader said between his endearment of tasting your cake. You cut them a few pieces and waited for their reviews.

They hummed in the delicious taste of the soft cake and you got a collective of compliments.

Yunho was the first person to ask for another piece, you happily cut him one. He watched your happiness. The way you reacted to each of their compliments, the nervousness and feelings shy but still managing to keep yourself steady.

Yeosang proposed the idea that they should open a cafe near their place where you can train some workers and also be able to have some time to spend in a different atmosphere other than staying at the mansion. Jongho supported the idea.

Mingi raised the topic of your safety but San volunteered to check on you often and won't let anything happen to you.

>>>><<<<

The idea did come to light and led to action. You got work to keep yourself busy when they are not around but this definitely lured a danger.

Someone kept a watch on you. The strange feeling was creeping in your skin but you neglected it with the thought that San might be somewhere out of sight and spying on the place for a possible danger.

Once when you went to the mall with Mingi and Jongho, you got bumped into a person and got a scratch on your arm with a sharp object.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Mingi's concerned voice appeared and held your arm. "Why is it bleeding? What happened?"

"Might have scratched something. Don't worry, it will heal soon."

Well your assurance was not enough for him. The way he handled you around the mall, asking you whether you're uncomfortable or wanted something. You wanted a chill hangout not both of them to worry about you.

But the beautiful time you all were having got disturbed when you suddenly fell unconscious. They both were shocked but reacted quickly to take you to the medical wing of their base.

You were poisoned by that scratch. But it couldn't affect much and spread properly. You were under threat and needed more protection and they made sure of it.

"San, people are assuming you as my boyfriend at this point." You groaned after pushing open the door to your cafe. He rolled his eyes behind you and glared when he noticed a young boy staring at you both entering together.

He pulled a chair and sat near the counter where you were placing the things to start the day. "I don't care about their opinions. Your safety comes first. And-"

"Hey! I guess, I'm invited inside the cafe too." Jongho entered the cafe and winked at the man sitting. You nodded, "of course you are."

He didn't have any schedule for the day so opted for hanging out in the cafe. You turned towards San and asked for him to complete what he was saying but he shook his head.

The days went normal, nothing to worry about. Everything was going as usual.

"You three are also leaving?" You pout and lean back to the table. They chuckled at your reaction and Seonghwa approached you, patting your head with an adorable smile, "we will be back soon. And Yeosang will be here to accompany you."

"Can't you stay together every time? Or like take me with you all."

"No!" The leader put aside the black leather jacket and held your shoulder, "we are not risking your life. There's always danger. We won't be able to control ourselves if something happens to you."

"Oh...but I feel scared for you all too. Just take care of yourselves. I am not strong enough to protect you all but......atleast I can pray for you." You felt so useless and a burden on them but Yunho quickly chimed into the conversation.

"Don't think of yourself lowl. You are our strength. We come back home and do our best and succeed in our missions with the hope that a beautiful soul and a precious girl is waiting for us. Your trust in us is everything we need to be strong out there."

Yunho is always the one to ensure that you are valuable and worth the effort they make to protect you. His warm embraces really make you believe that,

You are in love. You are at home.

The leader is always impressed by his words and also reminds you that their biggest possession is you.

"No other expensive material in the household or in the universe can be worth your value." Hongjoong and his exaggerated explanations.

Seonghwa is the one who would treat you like a porcelain doll, as if you are his daughter. Well let's not be weird with this thought. He is someone to ensure your wellbeing now and then.

"You are safe with us princess. No one can hurt you ever."

To his addition, San will buy you everything possible just in case you are not happy with something. Once when a worker pointed out you as a spoiled girlfriend and called you ‘gold digger’, he took matters in hand.

Grabbing his collar and glaring at him as if he could burn him alive and bury him there, "of course you don't have the courage or power to spoil her. But your dirty mouth can spoil her ears. And I don't like when some bugs are near her."

This is not the end, Jongho is not the one to show his emotions often but you have always liked his goofy nature with you but the majority of the time when you go out with him, he is the most mature and serious one as if he is doubting every individual glancing at you.

"I think he is spying on us." He murmured.

"You are looking around the restaurant in a way as if you want to order the rest of the items on the menu card. That's why he is staring at us." You started and went back to eating.

Mingi is the one who is always volunteering to go out with you because according to him, he fights well. So if someone attacks then he could fight back and take you back home safely. He is sometimes a bit controlling like Yunho but rest, you love his company.

"No, we are going back home. No more talking back. I'm your protector and the mafia member so you have to listen to me now."

The most important one to mention, Wooyoung. His professional side and the side with you are just opposites. Well this settles with all of them.

He encourages you to try new stuff, teaches you some self defense and also the one to try out pranks on others. You always grew up alone and wanted someone like him to be your friend and once you shared this feeling with him. You are now beautifully cursed with his presence.

"Do you want to know how to shoot?"

"No no please, that is the most intriguing thing to me but I'm okay with not knowing it's working."

He rolled his eyes, "don't be dramatic. It will help you."

"You all are here for me and... ...I..I love- I love how you are mafia members but have individual personalities that protects me and keeps me safe. Moreover, you all make me feel loved by a family."

"We are your family."

They all say this everyday. And today is not an exception.

Yeosang was on his laptop. You wanted to go out but he was too busy to even notice that. Not to make him mad, you scolded yourself for thinking to go out behind his back.

"Is it okay if I have a quick trip to the convenience store?......please."

He looked up from the screen, "what do you need, let me bring it for you."

"No. I just want to go out because others haven't been at home for the last three days and as you are alone I'm not allowed out of this house."

Yeosang always stays back or tries to be the member to protect you while all others are needed on a particular situation or missions.

He chuckled and got up, "let's go. We can have the trip together."

Before arriving at the store, you both didn't ever imagine the incident that was about to happen.

As soon as you stepped inside the sliding glass door, he got a call and excused himself to a side and you were humming a song to yourself while searching for the items needed.

Then everyone heard a gunshot. Screams and footsteps erupted from inside and he quickly went to your direction behind the shelf where his eyes followed earlier but to his dislike, you were not there. The back door was open and he saw a black car leaving the place.

He quickly dialed Hongjoong's number to let him know about the situation and to come to the location quickly which he would send them soon. He borrowed the computer at the counter of the store and filled in the inputs with codes and required data and he followed a particular car's location from all the CCTV footage of the road of the tracking device and also his phone was tracking your ring, which has a high-tech induced chip.

Within a few moments Ateez reached the desired location, well they were not in a mood to come across the familiar place but still they had to when you are here.

Barging inside the place, an intense fight between both the mafia gangs started. San went to search for you, a bullet almost passed through his arm but fortunately he could avoid it but still he got injured slightly.

There, you were tied to a rusted metal chair and sitting unconsciously. He was quick to untie your ropes and held in his embrace while placing himself on the dirty floor. It doesn't matter, the important thing is for you to be safe.

"Y/n...you are safe."

You blinked your eyes open, first he noticed your scared pupils like he saw them on the first day but it quickly turned into soft and tears brimmed in. You were securely protected by his embrace on his lap.

The others entered the room and found you in that condition and they felt relieved that you were safe. They surrounded your figure, some praising you and some asking you if the enemies hurt you somewhere.

Even though you were denying, none was fully convinced.

No one blamed you.

“I’m sorry…I should’ve listened to you all.”

Hongjoong knelt in front of you and cupped your face, “it’s okay. We should protect you more. Just stay with us and don’t leave us ever. We are going to risk ourselves to protect you, the daughter of our boss.”

You held his wrist and shook your head, “Call me yours. Say you will protect me because I’m yours. Because you all don’t want to lose me.”

“Y/n…you are more precious than you think you are.” he said and pecked your forehead with adoration in his eyes.

Seonghwa knelt beside the leader and held your hand comfortingly, pressing a soft kiss on it. San shifted your body to make you feel comfortable in his hold. “Just know one thing, we love you not because you are his daughter but we are in love with you. We fell in love with an innocent girl.”

“I fell in love too……with you all.” you murmured and thought no one heard it except the three near you but you were so wrong because there was a boost feeling in the rest of them after hearing you. San kissed the crown of head and whispered, “I love you so much, y/n. It hurts whenever I see danger around you.”

Yunho was quick to sweep you off the floor and you squealed in surprise, “well, Tiny. as far as I want to show you my love for you right now. This place is making me anxious. Let’s go home.”

“To my safe place.” hearing your sweet words, he kissed the tip of your nose. Jongho smiled reassuringly at you that even if enemies are trying to hurt you, they would rescue you but now as they know that the complicated feelings of theirs have been solved after the mutual acceptance, they won't be leaving your side ever.

When you all were about to step out of the room, a man held a gun towards Yunho, at you in his grip. He clenched his jaw but before anyone could process anything, Mingi was quick to hold his gun towards the man and stepped forward Yunho, hiding you both with his large frame and shot the man.

He turned around and smirked, “now this is more fun to kill people because of you.”

You turned your face to the other side and could hear others laugh, “keep that shit away.”

“No cursing, tiny.”

Mingi caressed your head before planting a kiss to the side, “you should at least know how to use it.”

Wooyoung led the way out of the warehouse and kept in check of any possible danger in their way.

Entering the car, you sat between Wooyoung and Yeosang when the youngest one of them entangled his hands with yours and you looked at him with a surprise, “hm?” he pressed a kiss on your cheek, “thanks for trusting us in your father’s place.”

“Thanks for keeping me safe like he did.”

“Even my shadow will protect you forever and my love will guide you back to home.” he put his head on your shoulder.

“ I know.”

When you turned to the other side, Yeosang was already staring at you and when he caught your eyes, he smiled, “I didn’t imagine this is how we would be confessing our feelings. But thanks for letting us know that you care for us too, like your dad.”

“I was so scared today. Because of all the lurking danger, I hated to be in this mafia life and my dad hid me from this dark side of the world but thanks to you all for saving me from the lonely world out there after his death. When I thought that today I’m going to die, the only last hope I had was one of you to save me. And you did. All of you did.”

He nodded and patted his shoulder, you obligingly leaned your head on it and he caressed your head softly, “we are always here to keep you safe and to love you forever.”

With cautious optimism, you all embarked on a journey of self-discovery and love, navigating the complexities of the newfound relationship with courage and resilience. Together, you forged a bond that transcended time and circumstance, proving that love could blossom in the most unexpected of places.

As you watched the view outside hand in hand, gazing at the stars above from the window of the car, all of you knew that love was a testament to the enduring power of connection and the infinite possibilities that awaited on the horizon. In each other's arms, you found solace, strength, and the courage to embrace the beautiful uncertainties of life's journey.

After all, you did the right thing. Accepting the extended hand of the leader and being inside the boundary of protection and love.

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. If my favoritism is showing with some members then please try to understand oz they are my bias.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

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#ateez fanfic #m: starillusion13 #p: mxr #g: fluff #g: romance #g: mafia #f: series #3k #r: 18+

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