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Vernon edging you until you're a crying mess and begging him to let you cum...? 👀
01:22 — VERNON
i'm...supposed to be studying for another exam but 🥹
you and vernon have a rather...interesting relationship dynamic.
when he first introduced you to the rest of his friends, they all immediately assumed that you're the one who called the shots. everyone knows that vernon is laid back by default—always going along with the flow that others have set around him without any complaints.
it's obvious that the same applies even when the two of you started dating. he's more than happy to let you take the lead in navigating your way through life as a couple and most people find it adorable, how he always accommodates you one way or another. that's just the kind of guy he is.
seungkwan jokingly called him an under when he witnessed firsthand just how easily your boyfriend bends to your whims.
but no matter how much of a pushover others think vernon can be, you're convinced they only think that way because they've never seen him in the confines of your shared bedroom.
"pretty," vernon chuckles softly, one hand grasping your chin while his free hand dabs away the salty tears streaked across your cheeks "you can take more, can't you? this is nothing."
nothing, he says—despite the fact that your thighs are already trembling from the third orgasm he blatantly denied you. part of you wants to talk back, but you hold your tongue, preening at the sweet smile still resting on your boyfriend's face as he sinks further down the mattress to hook your thighs across his shoulders.
vernon isn't a hard dom by a long shot, but that's what makes it all the more frustrating. when he teases you like this—edging you to the brink of insanity—you can't even resent him because of how lovingly he looks at you every time he denies you release. as if the cruelty of his actions is grace of the highest form.
"please," you cry out hoarsely when he gets his tongue on you again—sucking, slurping, making a mess out of your already ruined cunt. "vernon, n-need to come..."
your boyfriend chuckles with every sniffle and sob that ransacks your body each time his tongue swipes across your puffy clit. your fingers are tangled in his hair, holding his head in place as his tongue laves at your folds. he even makes a show of groaning into your pussy—the vibrations driving your nerves alight with glee.
"i think i've loosened you up pretty good. don't you think so?" he murmurs the words along the supple flesh of your inner thighs, trailing featherlight kisses with each breath. "think you're ready for my cock?"
you whimper, blindly reaching for his arms to tug him up. he only relents because you just look so adorable when you're on the brink of the tears.
"nonnie," you mewl, fingers laced around the nape of his neck as you desperately press your mouth against your boyfriend's—rocking your sloppy, spit-laden cunt across his clothed crotch. "w-want you to split me open. please, please, i've been so good for you. just wanna come— wanna come so fucking bad on your cock."
another rush of tears spills from your eyes and vernon can only sigh when he feels the liquid stick to his own skin. if anyone else could see you right now—crying and babbling as you dry hump him out of sheet desperation—they'd never believe their eyes.
vernon the so-called under, reducing his pretty baby to tears as they beg him to make them come.
he gives you what you want in the end—your face smooshed into the pillows as your boyfriend brutally rams his thick cock into your slick walls. though his touch is always weighted with characteristic gentleness, not even vernon can hold up against the addicting feel of your pussy clamping down on him with each delicious thrust.
"you're close again." it's not a question. he's much too familiar with the way your walls sporadically tighten around him when you're nearing release. "do you want to come, love? i've been a little mean to you tonight, haven't i?"
your cries come out muffled and vernon nearly comes at the thought of you soaking the pillows with tears and saliva. vernon's grip on your ass goes tight as he swears under his breath—his strokes coming in deep and precise so he can pinpoint that spot that makes you cry out his name in the prettiest way possible.
"f-fuck!" you bleat the moment vernon flattens his chest across your back—thrusts unrelenting as his free hand finds your clit. "don't edge me anymore, nonnie. please, please, please. i'm going to go insane if i don't come this time. give it to me, i want it—want it so fucking bad—oh!"
he fucking loves it when you run your mouth in the midst of a lustful delirium. but it gives him an even bigger ego boost when he feels your pussy practically squeeze the cum out of him at the height of your orgasm.
as much as you hate being denied the apex of pleasure several times over, vernon is always right whenever he says edging will just make everything feel a hundred times better when you finally come.
the words still ring true now, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head as your brain melts into a puddle of nothingness. vernon's intense gaze is riveted on the absolutely fucked out look on your face and that's what drives him over the edge—stilling his erratic strokes in favor of dumping his load in your willing pussy with a long-winded groan.
"you're fucking insane," is the first thing you breathe out once your mind comes back online—flopping your back onto the mattress as you catch your breath. "i feel like i died and went to hell and back seven and a half times."
"seven and a half?" vernon remarks with an amused look—getting up to grab a washcloth from the en-suite.
"yeah, life's hell when your boyfriend has an edging kink." you pout and he simply laughs before emerging from the bathroom, sitting at the edge of the bed as he cleans you up.
"you can always try it on me if you want to get even," he suggests, but you shake your head vigorously at the notion.
"no thanks, i'm happy to get edged and manhandled by the same guy i boss around in front of his friends," you tell him with a playful tone.
vernon shakes his head before leaning closer to peck your lips—wondering how he got so lucky to have landed someone like you.
"whatever you say, my little masochist."
⟢ end notes: this has been sitting in my inbox for a while now and i decided to squander my time by answering it AHDJSJW i'm just a sucker for soft dom vernon ok...... i'd let him edge me for hours if he just smiles his little nonnie smile at me before making me suffer again <3
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table for two | lsm
seokmin thinks recovery looks beautiful on you.
pairing: lee seokmin x reader
au: established relationship, slice of life
genre: fluff, hurt/comfort (sort of?)
type: drabble | 860 words
rating: pg-13 — minors still do not have my consent to interact.
content: gn!reader; reader’s physical appearance is not described in any way; seokmin is the best of all boys; food/beer mention + consumption; seokmin’s pov.
tw: reader is referenced to be in recovery (implied to be for an unnamed eating disorder) ! there are no depictions of disordered eating; however, seokmin thinks about things reader no longer does ! specifically, this references the absence of past distraction tactics (pushing food around plate, picking up a bite and setting it back down during conversation) ! seokmin notes that reader sits with him for over an hour after eating, rather than disappearing (reference to implied history of purging) !
a/n: this is deeply, deeply, deeply personal. i wrote this because i need comfort; and i am posting it publicly in case it can be source of comfort for someone else. it is based on my personal experience and may not be reflective of any other person’s experience. please review the tw’s and skip this drabble if you believe any part of this will make you uncomfortable or unsafe.
if you are based in the u.s., this website has resources that may be helpful for you.
multi permanent taglist. seventeen permanent taglist.
Seokmin is at the stove with a wooden spatula in hand when he feels your arms slither around his waist. The warmth of your cheek presses into the space between his shoulder blades, just like the tiny, contented sigh you breathe out. Without the sizzling pan in front of him, he might’ve given into the urge to go boneless; to melt into your hold, like marshmallow over a campfire.
Gooey may not be glamorous, but it’s the best way to describe how he feels around you.
“What are you making?” You mumble from behind him, curiosity evident despite how muffled your words are
He bites his lips to keep from grinning. Really, he doesn’t want to make it a big deal, but it is. This might be the first time you’ve ever asked him that question with interest, rather than carefully-cloaked dread. The first time you sound genuinely eager.
If his heart gets any warmer, it’ll burn his —
“Dakgalbi!” And even though you can’t see him do it, Seokmin wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis as he lilts, “With a special ingredient.”
You pull your cheek from its resting place, thankfully without removing your arms. He cranes his neck to meet your eyes over his shoulder just in time for you to snort, “Love?”
Well…
Honestly, it’s no surprise that you catch his cheesy joke before he can properly drop it. He’s cast this line at you a million times before — and that’s a conservative estimate.
Seokmin paints on an exaggerated frown, blinking his wide fake-offended eyes back at you. “My halmoni’s kimchi,” he says through a pout.
You nod appreciatively, then you kiss the pout right off his face, leaving Seokmin to wonder if you’re really talking about fermented cabbage when you sigh, “The best there is.”
The distraction you create is more than welcome, but the dish he’s neglecting starts sputtering in an ominous way that demands immediate attention. Reluctantly, he turns back around to stir. Even more reluctantly, you withdraw your arms from him; your soft footsteps pad off somewhere he can’t see.
Then, he hears a cabinet open.
Then, the distinct clink of two bowls being lifted from the shelf.
Two bowls, Seokmin notes, and he’s unable to fight off a grin this time.
Once the chicken and sweet potatoes are thoroughly cooked, you reappear at his side with two bowls at the ready. Two portions are doled out carefully to avoid spilling any sauce on the counter, then two pairs of chopsticks replace the wooden spatula in his hand.
You sit together at your small kitchen table, and it feels natural now, like this is something you’ve always done. It’s not; it’s a recent development, but there’s an ease to it all now that wasn’t there before.
Seokmin’s instincts tell him to be cool about it. To not stare lovingly at you, as much as he may want to, because that spot-lighted attention would freak him out, too. But even without watching outright, he notices the thousand little hard-fought changes.
When you pick up a large bite of chicken between your chopsticks, you don’t distract with a question or joke just to set the bite back down, undetected. You chew that bite, making some thoroughly delighted sound, and then you take another one.
You don’t push the food around in your bowl, either, but eat your fill from it. Once you do, you don’t disappear. Instead, you stay put, laughing through the rest of the hour while Seokmin eats his first and second servings. You’re present, accounted for, and best of all, happy to be here.
This isn’t the first meal you’ve spent like this — Seokmin trusts implicitly that it won’t be the last — and yet he still feels pride bubble up in his chest in a way that makes his tear ducts tingle. Again, he reminds himself to be cool about it. He clears his throat, as if it’s the gochugaru affecting him and not his admiration for you, and he takes a sip of the beer you decided pairs best with the stir-fry.
Licking the excess foam from his lips, Seokmin sets his glass down and looks up at you. The echoing sip you take is earnest, rather than performative, and it’s followed by a sigh that sounds relieved.
“I love you, you know,” he states plainly.
I’m so fucking proud of you, he implies.
“I know.” You shrug, then the nonchalance gives way to a giggle. Your shoulder knocks gently into his before you lean closer and rest your head there. “Ditto.”
Seokmin rests his cheek against the top of your head. His eyes flutter shut in the comfortable silence that follows, too full and content to even think of doing dishes.
After spending a few minutes that way, you speak again — softly, because you know he startles easily: “It’s supposed to rain tomorrow.”
“Oh?” He asks without a clue where this train of thought is heading.
“Perfect pajeon weather. We should make some, don’t you think?”
What Seokmin thinks is that recovery looks beautiful on you.
Nodding minimally to avoid shaking your head along with his, he agrees, beaming all the while. “Perfect indeed.”
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show it
pairing: joshua x f!reader
word count: 920
contains: intercourse, breast play (reader likes pain), hand around throat (explicitly not choking)
a/n: just dropping this here and running away. tagging @junhui-recs because i can't think of anyone else who might like this (hi june! your tags are much appreciated :))
“it’s alright, baby. take your time”
joshua’s voice registers your mind through the haze of sensations you currently find yourself in, his tender words both tethering you to reality and threatening to drag you to the edge of it.
in the opinions of people who know you, you’re a take-charge person, marching through actions in life and giving minimal thought to hesitations when it comes to getting what you want. what your acquaintances don’t know, however, is that you’re not this person in bed — in contrast, you’re quite shy, almost unable to ask for what you want.
unsurprisingly, this contrast has led to some tension in your past relationships. your partners expected — not unfairly — the similar forward person during physical activities, and they were disappointed.
they were all nice enough to not say it that way, ofcourse. but you knew, and that made you rather reluctant to be with someone. when you explained to joshua your doubts — on your very first date, no less — his response left you a little breathless.
(“oh? you’re shy in bed?”, a tender smile graced his lips, wickedness hinting in his eyes, “that’s alright, sweetheart. i can be explicit enough for both of us”. his eyes gentled a little at your furious blush, “and i don’t expect you to be someone you’re not”.)
you’ve thought about that response a lot — until the first time you made out with him. then you thought about how joshua is a man of his word.
joshua’s hands gently squeeze your hips, bringing you back to the present, where you sit on his throbbing cock, his face reflecting saintly patience while he waits for you to move. he’s being marvelously accommodating, as always — simply waiting until you feel comfortable taking charge.
his eyes tell a slightly different story, though — still gentle, but glinting with anticipation and a hint of desperation.
you squeeze around his cock and you want to move, you do — but you need something more, you need an edge to slice through your haze.
you know what you want, now you just need to say it.
or maybe not. maybe you can just show it.
your fingers reach down to touch his hand, lightly pulling at his fingers. he gives in easily, letting you place his index finger on the tip of your breast. you move another finger to the other side of your nipple, and press the two fingers together in a clumsy, rather off-place pinch.
but he gets it. the brilliant man — he gets it.
“ah, baby”, his fingers come to life, lightly rolling your nipple while the other hand comes to your other breast, mimicking the motion, “pretty girl wants some pain, mm?”
you bite your lip against a moan that manages to escape anyway, nodding emphatically at his words. he looks the picture of delight as he pinches your nipples — much, much lighter than you want him to — and you whimper out his name, your cunt clenching his cock almost painfully.
he inhales a sharp breath in response, whispering fuck before composing himself and directing his focus to you again.
he pinches again, a little harder this time. at your desperate moan, he murmurs, “harder?”
yes, yes, yes.
he must’ve seen the response on your face, for he does it again — this time holding his fingers, for one, two, three seconds — and then you lose count, lost in the sensation.
“i’m so proud of you, sweetheart”, he murmurs in your ear, lips brushing the corner of your cheek, “such a good girl, telling me what you want”.
he pulls your nipple, maintaining the pressure, and you almost sob out in ecstasy.
“such a good girl”, he twists the sensitive buds, and you almost scream, your clit throbbing from the need to release, “and good girls deserve to come, mm?”
his fingers release your nipples then, and you almost protest at the lack of sensations — before blood rushes into the buds, the pulsing sensations almost as heady as the insistent pinches.
you’re only slightly aware of his hands moving on your body, until they find their intended location — one finger circling your clit, one big hand easily spanning your throat. not applying any pressure, just staying there, feeling your running pulse.
the finger on your clit is insistent on getting you over the edge. joshua knows how to tease you well — he can do it for hours — and he’s not interested in teasing you now.
distantly, you notice his composure fraying as you come apart around his cock, his voice getting hoarse and he murmurs praises in your ear, his muscles straining to stay still as you writhe on his lap.
you’re still pulsing emphatically when he gives in, his hands coming to rest on your hips again as he thrusts his hips up. all traces of finesse are gone now, there’s just desperation as he falls apart in what feels like seconds, his thrusts only extending your orgasm as your combined groans echo through the walls of the room.
when you come back to reality, joshua is slumped against the headboard, his hands resting on your back as your chest rests against his, the familiar scent of sex and sweat and joshua hitting your senses.
he looks at you from under lidded eyes when you pull back to look at him, his face full of adoration and languid satisfaction. you suspect you wear the same expression.
“for someone so pretty, joshie”, you murmur, voice still hoarse from the strenuous moans, “you have a filthy mouth”.
#livvie to this day u never disappoint#so tender and loving as always!!!#which is of course on point for joshua#recs#ro's.recs#mutuals
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"you made these...?"
mingyu can't stop staring at the box of cinnamon rolls, face heating up. from scratch? you hadn't really admit it at first until he asked where you got them, and now... the thought's really sinking in. you made these for him? for him? why him?
you nod. "from scratch," you affirm again. he's repeated the sentence twice now, still floored. "if they're not good, you can throw them away--i don't mind. don't force yourself to eat them or anything--"
he's already taking one out and taking a bite, and immediately he tastes the love first and the sweetness of cinnamon and sugar and cream cheese frosting second. how many batches have you made? how long did it take you to perfect this? and why would you spend your time making it for him...?
"they're perfect--" he says, although it's through a mouthful of cinnamon roll. he apologizes immediately, swallowing the bite. "they're delicious. you really made these for me?"
you nod again. sheepish as can be, you make some excuse about going grocery shopping as you take off down the hall. mingyu pushes the door shut with his shoulder, and trails back into the apartment. seokmin and minghao look up from their drama.
"the neighbor again?" minghao already knows immediately. mingyu nods, and minghao continues on, "what is it this time?"
"nothing." he closes the box. where can he hide these? no one else gets to have them. normally, mingyu would share... but something in him wants to be possessive. no sharing these. not when you looked so cute giving them to him.
seokmin's casual as can be: "it smells good--"
"it's not. don't eat them." he pushes them onto the top of the fridge. "okay?" he's already grabbing his keys and his wallet.
minghao leans over the arm of the couch as he watches mingyu slip into his shoes. "where are you going now?"
mingyu's eyes are twinkling when he looks up. "grocery store. i'm making dinner tonight. i'll be back!"
the door shuts. the two share a look. maybe neither of them will win the bet if the two of you continue to be oblivious like this.
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[3:36 PM]
you don't think there's a better couch in the world than vernon's.
it's blue-gray and you think it's been through several world wars even though you remember the exact moment you picked it out at the local ashley furniture two years ago. there's a hole in the right-most cushion (from when vernon tried to kill a spider with a pen), and mascara stains (yours) you haven't quite figured out how to remove yet, but it is one of your favorite places in the world.
and quite frankly, it's the only place you want to be sometimes—especially now.
"vernon," you wail. "i think i'm destined to die alone. i'm going to adopt a million cats, move out of the city, and die alone."
you watch him fumble with his phone as he attempts to text the doordash guy the apartment code while juggling a box of tissues and your favorite four dollar trader joe's wine.
"hey," he says, as if attempting to calm a wild horse. "you know that isn't true."
he dumps his armful of crisis objects on the coffee table before taking a seat on the couch next to you.
this is the usual order of things.
somehow, you, local disaster, had befriended vernon, the most normal person in the world. and this—the wine, the doordash, the sad sza playlist he made you the week you met—somehow became a familiar ritual of yours. (even one you look forward to, seeing as you don't seem to run out of disasters.)
"he's an asshole," vernon supplies unhelpfully. "don't let it get to you."
"it's getting to me. it got to me. i've been gotten." you bury your head in your hands.
"you really deserve better." he takes some tissues out of the box and pats you on the shoulder, visibly searching for the right words to say.
quite honestly, vernon has never handled these situations with ease. he doesn't get worked up like your girl friends, and he doesn't throw his arms open for a long cry like your mom would. but he handles them, and you, with more patience than you ever think you deserve, and you think that's why you love him so much.
"who gets stood up on a hinge date?!" you snort into a tissue. "we had been talking for weeks!"
vernon shrugs as he wiggles the wine cork out of the bottle. "it just means you guys weren't right for each other."
you wad up your kleenex stack and vernon hands you another.
"i'm deleting hinge. and tinder. and bumble. and then i'm getting a cat."
"okay," he laughs. "i'll go with. i'll get one too so they can be friends."
"deal," you croak as you watch vernon stand up to get the delivery. "please tell me you got nacho fries."
"i got you two. with extra cheese sauce."
for the first time today, you laugh. you laugh big and loud because no one in the world knows you better than vernon, and you don't even think he knows it.
he looks at you, head tilted and eyebrows knit together like you've started speaking in tongues. you think he gives you that look at least once a day, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
you laugh again.
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bf!changmin headcannon
warnings: nothing, i don’t think
wc: 480, short and sweet
a/n: hi divas, i write for the boyz now. im really into q right now so here’s a little headcannon muah muah. i haven’t seen nearly as much the boyz fics as i expected there to be so im here to fill a q-shaped whole in tumblr <3
requests open, just send an ask
masterlist
is so sweet but has a habit of just being effortlessly fine
like there’s no reason why you should be getting flustered while he helps you clasp on your bracelet
but there’s something about the way he flexes his hand and arm while doing it that has you kind of gasping for air, if you’re honest
but then turns around and makes you question why you even speak to him in the first place
like he sends you the rankest, scariest videos and memes
likes sending you tiktoks of that guy who makes meals in hotel bathroom sinks
loves to send it when you’re right across the table from him
so he can set up for the perfect candid of your shocked face
and then set it as your contact picture
as much as he loves a good joke and tease, he’s very good at knowing when you’re not in the mood
is very good at reading emotions
and really has forced you to become a better communicator as well
one, because he always asks you to verbalize your issues. two, he’s rarely one to escalate an argument. and three, you really just refuse to be angry at a face as cute as his.
his love language is buying you trinkets
some boys buy you flowers, changmin buys you a tiny little guy that he expects you to clasp to your wallet
you have a corner of your desk in your apartment dedicated to every trinket, figurine, or tiny animal that he’s gotten u
when he sees it when you invite him over, he just smiles, pats your head, and gives you a forehead kiss
before he calls you his little obsessed loser <3
but really he’s the obsessed loser and everyone around you (including you) kinda knows it
bc why else would he greet you with your favorite boba order every time he sees you, regardless of the occasion
and why else would he get his driver’s license and then proceed to only drive you around, rejecting every time sunwoo requests changmin to drive him somewhere
changmin claims sunwoo is going to ruin your spot :(
among his members, you both are known as the absolute cutest and most stable couple
everything about you guys screams together forever
from the ways that you two seem attached at the hip, always aiding the other person with a task or seriously discussing some freaky internet trend or history that only you two know about
(which somehow always gets photographed and sent to the group chat somehow)
to the way that despite how open both of you are with all of your friends
there’s still a layer of mystique to your relationship, with so much of your relationship seeming to exist within a world that only the two are privy to, not having the faculties or desire to share it with anyone else
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bf!changmin headcannon
warnings: nothing, i don’t think
wc: 480, short and sweet
a/n: hi divas, i write for the boyz as well now. im really into q right now so here’s a little headcannon muah muah. i haven’t seen nearly as much the boyz fics as i expected there to be so im here to fill a q-shaped hole in tumblr <3
requests open, just send an ask
masterlist
is so sweet but has a habit of just being effortlessly fine
like there’s no reason why you should be getting flustered while he helps you clasp on your bracelet
but there’s something about the way he flexes his hand and arm while doing it that has you kind of gasping for air, if you’re honest
but then turns around and makes you question why you even speak to him in the first place
like he sends you the rankest, scariest videos and memes
likes sending you tiktoks of that guy who makes meals in hotel bathroom sinks
loves to send it when you’re right across the table from him
so he can set up for the perfect candid of your shocked face
and then set it as your contact picture
as much as he loves a good joke and tease, he’s very good at knowing when you’re not in the mood
is very good at reading emotions
and really has forced you to become a better communicator as well
one, because he always asks you to verbalize your issues. two, he’s rarely one to escalate an argument. and three, you really just refuse to be angry at a face as cute as his.
his love language is buying you trinkets
some boys buy you flowers, changmin buys you a tiny little guy that he expects you to clasp to your wallet
you have a corner of your desk in your apartment dedicated to every trinket, figurine, or tiny animal that he’s gotten u
when he sees it when you invite him over, he just smiles, pats your head, and gives you a forehead kiss
before he calls you his little obsessed loser <3
but really he’s the obsessed loser and everyone around you (including you) kinda knows it
bc why else would he greet you with your favorite boba order every time he sees you, regardless of the occasion
and why else would he get his driver’s license and then proceed to only drive you around, rejecting every time sunwoo requests changmin to drive him somewhere
changmin claims sunwoo is going to ruin your spot :(
among his members, you both are known as the absolute cutest and most stable couple
everything about you guys screams together forever
from the ways that you two seem attached at the hip, always aiding the other person with a task or seriously discussing some freaky internet trend or history that only you two know about
(which somehow always gets photographed and sent to the group chat somehow)
to the way that despite how open both of you are with all of your friends
there’s still a layer of mystique to your relationship, with so much of your relationship seeming to exist within a world that only the two are privy to, not having the faculties or desire to share it with anyone else
#ro's.fics#the boyz q#the boyz changmin#changmin x reader#the boyz headcanon#changmin headcanon#q x reader#the boyz x reader#the boyz fluff#changmin fluff#the boyz fic#q fluff
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𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃: 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐳𝐢 𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲!?
Didn't anybody tell him being back in the booth will leave him singing solo?
Pairings: Lee Jihoon x Fem!reader | Slight!Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: A kink confession in couple's therapy might just save your relationship
Warnings: Established Relationship, Insecurities, Gender Roles, Slight!Toxic Relationship, Fluff, Slight Angst, Smut (+18 Minors DNI), Masturbation, Dom/Sub undertones, MeanDom!Jihoon, Sub!Reader, Innocence Kink, Slight DDLG, Ownership Kink, Hair Pulling, Spitting kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Slight Humiliation, Submission Kink, Dirty Talk, Grinding, Oral Sex (Male rec), Breeding Kink, Slight!Hate sex
Word Count: 3.9k
Song: Mine | Beyonce
Woops
"I'm aware that I'm on this mission to get my boyfriend to actually want to fuck me again but why does it feel like I've already failed on the very first step?" A whine so childish, and so petulant rips itself from the depths of your throat but Jihoon's running shower silences the pathetic noise.
While he showers, you're left sitting on the floor surrounded by a graveyard of designer lingerie. A too small Victoria's Secret set is immediately abandoned in its box, leaving you howling into the phone as you wriggle yourself into the complicated underwear.
Your confidence wanes as you adjust to the intricate bows and string of the set, wincing as you pull up the pink garter belt until it's clasped around your thighs. Soon enough, you're padding across the floor of your walk-in closet, hesitantly approaching a mirror.
"I mean, this says 'slut' but what if 'slut' isn't what he's attracted to?" Your hand curls tightly around the width of your phone, "Jihoon is an anomaly! What if I end up making a complete and utter fool of myself?" The mirror is nestled between Jihoon's clothing rack harbouring all his neatly pressed designer pieces. You let the sight of his intimidating fashion waver your already fragile confidence.
"Are you hearing yourself?" Scoffs Mingyu through your phone's speakers, "What man has ever in the history of the universe not been attracted to 'slutty'? I feel like that might be a prerequisite in terms of the origins of the word." He says in a lax, calm manner, "Woozi'll just be happy to see boobs and ass becuase that's usually how a guy's brain goes. Or how mine goes at least."
Despite Mingyu's assurances, your arms are still folded over your scantily covered breasts while you cradle your phone in the air. "I don't know," your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth. "You didn't hear him today at counseling, Mingyu. I feel like our therapist might actually hate us." You continue to cradle your torso, forcing yourself not to flinch at the memory of your earlier session of couples therapy.
How far away Jihoon had felt despite being seated right beside you, like a gleaming, stoic-faced monolith. You feel as though you have been living in nothing but a perpetual winter, forever trying to please Jihoon, your boyfriend, but always falling short in front of Woozi, the entertainer. Work, work, work, on his mind meant that you were left to entertain your own wants by your lonesome. Even more harrowig, is the excuse he had given your therapist.
"She's always in boss mode," Jihoon's tone was as cold as ice, refusing to spare you even a single glance as he faced the therapist ahead, "And that's one of things I love about her, yes. Her drive and determination makes us compatible because I know I'm the same-"
A scoff slips past your lips at that point, making Jihoon's fist clench on the arm rest as you snootily interjected, "Don't misconstrue." You said, "He works more than me," and it was the truth as far as you believed it. Yes, you would gladly admit to neglecting a few key elements of your relationship in the face of your career, but never had you ever made Jihoon feel microscopic in your pursuits. Not like how he made you feel.
"It's important to listen to each other without interjecting." The therapist calmly scolded, leaving you grumbling in your seat, "You'd be surprised at how much could truly be accomplished by simply listening to each other,"
You were truly ready to tell that old lady to go to hell but something strange happened, and Jihoon finally opened his mouth, unburdening himself with what has truly been bothering him in his relationships as of late.
"It's just," He swears lightly under his breath, which does a terrific job in garnering yout attention. You peek up from underneath your lashes and you're stunned to hear him say, "I just wish she'd understand that it wouldn't burn down the foundations of feminism if she'd just," Jihoon's jaw ticked as he displayed the very first signs of emotion, "-Just let me take that load off for a bit…"
"In what way?" The therapist asked, sensing the nearness of a eureka moment. She treaded carefully, in fear of scaring Jihoon back into his shell. Thankfully, he made himself clearer because by now, you needed to know as well.
"She's the boss in her day to day and I respect that," he says, "But all I'm saying is that it wouldn't hurt to leave all that shit at work..."
The therapist nodded with grave understanding, although even you could see the trepidation easing onto her face. There is no hiding the conflicting emotions displayed on your face.
"You're asking her to become more…" The therapist cleared their throat, "Submissive?" Jihoon had not responded after that, letting the pregnant silence act as his megaphone.
"I'm submissive," you had whispered, nodding as if trying to convince yourself of your words. "I'm like… so submissive," before you could decorate your lie with even more lies, Jihoon finally turned towards you.
"Really?" He asked, "Where?"
You let an incredulous chuckle escape from your throat as you shot back, "Where what?"
Jihoon did a show of looking around the therapist's clinical office, delving deep into his petty theatrics as he calmly, "Where are you being submissive, because it hasn't been with me?"
The session had ended with you wracking your brain at Jihoon's admittance of what you suspect to be a kink. His words haunted you on the silent drive home. They had piqued your interest considerably, filling the atmosphere with a tense warmth, as if a tempest was brewing. One that neither of you was quite aware of how to deal with yet.
It was a feeling that led you into the deepest confines of your closet, until you pulled out the Savage x Fenty lingerie box, immediately calling Mingyu in a fit of panic while Woozi was in the shower. He was, after all, your best friend way before you even knew of Lee Jihoon.
Ripping your arms away from your torso is a mission on its own, one you succeed with immense reluctance as you finally gaze at your reflection in all her half naked glory.
You commence a hesitant twirl in front of the floor to ceiling mirror.
Very hesitant.
The lace bralette is digging into your ribs, and the matching pink garters are cutting into the skin of your ample thighs. It is all so painfully uncomfortable that you're threatening to take it off, no matter how much of a wet dream you may look like.
But there is excitement there too, bubbling beneath the surface, awakened by Jihoon's confession. You are almost excited to try this with him. Submission, sexually, was never on your cards previously but maybe this is something you should have noticed long ago. You pride yourself on being observant so why didn't you notice it before?
The soft affirmations of "Say my name," while he was steadily bringing you to orgasm with his fingers alone. The unmistakable need to have his hand locked around your throat whenever he was on the verge of cumming.
Even the non sexual stuff.
Ordering for you. Making sure your hand was always locked inside his when you found yourselves wandering the city. Forcing you to pay with his card despite knowing you made more than enough to sustain your lifestyle.
How didn't you know?
Keeping a hesitant grip on your satin nightgown, you tilt your head at your reflection skeptically.
"Imagine how embarrassed I'll be if he just ignores me," The insides of your mouth is bleeding non stop from the way you've been gnawing at it, "Maybe I should just accept that work is the only love in Jihoon's life."
Mingyu's voice is diabolically soothing as it bleeds through your speakers, "No, no," he says, and you can imagine him swatting away at the air in the process "Jihoon acts like a prude but he's one of the biggest sluts- if not - the biggest slut I know."
"Besides yourself of course," you murmur,
"Besides myself of course" Eventually, Mingyu comes up with what he suspects is his big master plan.
"Perhaps you should send me a pic of you in it, that way when the little guy gets out of the shower and sees you, then you'll be far more relaxed in the knowledge that someone else has already seen you in it."
It truly was Neanderthal mathematics.
However, there is an underlying veneer in Mingyu's tone bleeding in through the phone's speakers that makes you believe your best friend is far from joking. Despite it infuriating Woozi to no end, Mingyu might never stop flirting with you ever. In respect of your dynamic.
"Surely, I shouldn't have to tell you that I'm not sending you a pic of me in my lingerie for you but I guess I have to put that into words you would understand maybe?" You hold up your fingers and clear your throat as you monotonously say, "how dare you," 'have you no shame, Mingyu," You ask, "Need I go on?"
In the midst of Mingyu's petulant whines urging you to just 'leave your man' Jihoon's shower silences, and you right your bad posture immediately. You suddenly have no idea what to do with the drawstring of the nightgown. Somehow, this seemed like the make it or break it moment. The moment where you would decide to dive headfirst into your plans of winning back your relationship despite the possibility of being met with Jihoon's hostility and coldness that you had grown so accustomed to.
The pool of dread and anxiety is deep, and your hands are nearly shaking as your fingers gloss over the lacy pink garment. "I have to go," you whisper into the receiver, vaguely aware that you've already clicked the button to sever the line before your sentence even ends. All while you awaited the footsteps from Jihoon. But they never came.
Courageously abandoning your fear for the sake of actually getting laid, you walk up to the door of your shared bathroom and knock hesitantly.
"Jihoon? Honey, are you okay?" But he is not okay, in fact, Jihoon might venture to believe he may never be okay because your voice is just so pretty, even when muffled by a closed door. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his forearm is leaning against the shower glass, and you just called him honey and fuck, if he didn't start tugging at his dick faster. He feels pathetic, having to get himself off when you were right there but the nuances and complexities of fighting with your partner introduced the need for such things.
Jihoon's jaw is locked tight as he succinctly and suspiciously responds with a rumbling and groaning "Fine." His brows are furrowed, and his teeth locked tightly together as he fights to get off easily and succinctly.
He hopes that you would take the hostility in his voice as a sign to make yourself scarce. Jihoon already fucked up when he let the 'submissive' thing slip but he cannot bear to imagine the utter humiliation he would be subjected to if you swung that door open right now, catching masturbating in the shower, as if he did not have a girlfriend able to meet those needs… It bruises him like nothing else could. He did not want you to see him like this. He did not want you to know that even in the midst of your fights, you were the only woman he ever really thought of.
His palm skates over his soaked cock as his mind is filled images of you on your knees in front of him, head tilted back and tongue sticking out like a-
"Good little slut," It was intended as a whisper to fuel the violent pool of heat bubbling in his abdomen and make him cum quicker. A whisper that you weren't supposed to hear but your ear is on the door now and you shout back,
"Did you say anything?"
He cannot reply because his cock is aching and heavy with the weight of his fantasy. A fantasy in which you were his to hold, his to fuck, his to cum inside of until you were completely and utterly full of his load-
"Fuck-"
He rushes to squeeze the base of his dick, edging himself even though he's not quite sure why. This had been his moment to just cum all over his hands, wash off his spilt seed and be done with it, but you're knocking much more fluidly on the door, and you're becoming impatient.
"Honey, you're scaring m-," You venture to say, despite already pushing the bathroom door open. You're both left momentarily stunned by what the other is seeing in front of them. He is left paralyzed by seeing you in so little clothing… and wearing pink.
While you did not anticipate seeing Jihoon naked in the shower. Why had you not anticipated that? That’s so silly. Your mouth hangs open with the shock of his beauty perhaps.
Has it truly been that long?
In the same breath, Jihoon's lungs are wiped clean as he stares at you through the glass. His breathing is heavy, ghosting over the glass while his broad chest rises and falls. He is nothing but darkened hooded eyes. Eyes that ravage the sight of you in your lacy pink underwear, underwear that he had not seen anywhere. Where did you get that? When did you get that? Myriad thoughts swirl in Jihoon's mind, each more sinister and lustful than the last because you look so completely innocent and so soft standing by the door, arms at your side while the dressing gown hangs lazily off of your shoulders.
After a moment of silence, Jihoon decides to stop this nonsense by leaning back slightly. His long black hair still dripping down the sides of his face and his tongue skates over his bottom lip as he says,
“We should not be this surprised to see each other naked,” He says, a deep voice ringing out through the acoustics of the bathroom, “We are a couple, last I checked.”
When you do not respond, he tilts his head downward, letting an even deeper shadow cast over his eyes as he scans you from head to toe. For an innumerable amount of minutes all is quiet. It feels as though the world had been rid of noise, like you had teleported back in time, to a Charlie Chaplin motion picture. A world of absolute silence.
You begin to wonder how you might respond because surely, you cannot stand here, gawking at him for the rest of your merry life.
Before you could even think of adding to the silence with anything, anything at all, Woozi keeps his ice cold gaze on you, as he leans his head against his forearm, the one still positioned against the shower glass and he resumes his movements of languidly stroking his thick cock buried in his tight fist.
Your mouth runs dry as your eyes betray you, finally venturing down to watch him. You seem to have forgotten just how beautiful your boyfriend truly was, taking in his damp locks kissing his shoulders. He is all solid lines with a sculpted torso and you feel as if you never even knew him at all.
"Jihoon," Your voice quivers with immense passion but he silences you immediately.
"Don't ruin this. Please don't-"
"I wanna help." His mouth snaps shut but he can feel himself twitch in his palm. Jihoon's breath grows hot as you step closer and closer and he squeezes his cock, as the overall scent of you forces its way through his nose and into his brain. You're so utterly addicting, Jihoon's hand strokes almost instinctively, his hips even venturing to push his cock into his palm as he follows your every movement.
"I want you to tell me what to do," You finally say, letting the silk gown fall to the floor as you step into the shower, lingerie and all. Jihoon's mind has completely descended into lechery while his hooded eyes watch you with nothing but adoration.
"Your knees." Is all he is able to force out, "I need you on your knees," He whispers an incredibly hoarse, "Please," that has you falling to his feet automatically. The movement immediately had Jihoon's reeling.
"Fuck," He whispers, the sound of complete awe rushing straight to your core as he finally let's all his inhibitions wilt away with the rest of his manners. Jihoon is quick to bury his fingers into your hair with a roughness you're surprised to see. Surprised but far from disappointed.
"Open your mouth," He instructs, despite already prying your mouth open with his thick fingers, forcing your teeth open as if you were his plaything all while craning your head backwards.
Once he gets your mouth open, Jihoon is insatiable. He immediately bends down and crashes his lips into yours, letting his tongue invade the inside of your mouth like his life depended on it. It's a manic, passionate and domineering kiss, neck that had you moaning into his open mouth as your tongue wrestled with his.
"I'm gonna fuck your mouth now, okay?" His tone however, lets you know that he is not asking, not really, but you nod anyway, unsure of who or what has come over you. All you're really sure of is that you want to make him feel good. The goal, the satisfaction of it is building so fantastically inside of you, pushing through your arteries, steadily soaking your panties with arousal and eliciting a slightly wayward kind of dizzying emotion inside of you all at once.
"Tell me," he says, and you're forced to crane your head back as he straightens his form. "Tell me to fuck your stupid little mouth. Tell me it's what you want." His jaw is locked tight as his hand once again encloses around his sensitive dick. He refuses to give you anything, however, unless he hears you submit to him fully and completely. He feels like he needs to hear the words. Some part deep in his monkey brain needs the confirmation from the source, as if hearing you say such nasty, horrible things would increase his already heightened arousal.
"Please, Fuck my mouth, Jihoon!" In any other instance you might have been shocked at the words flowing out of your mouth, but your cunt is absolutely dripping through the fabric and your hand immediately dives down to cup your pussy through your panties as you look up at him and say, "Please fuck my slutty little mouth, Jihoon! I fucking want you to, pleasepleaseplease-"
"Such a slut- such a pretty little slut-" you'd never heard Jihoon's voice crack the way it just did and you really wish to hear that beautiful sound again. His hand is once again in your hair while his other hand is on your jaw. He pushes a finger inside until he's flattening your tongue and craning your neck even further back. You're momentarily confused, trapped in a haze of stupid lust before Jihoon hovers above you and spits directly into your mouth.
You're moaning, and keening and Jihoon is already forcing his cock all the way inside your mouth.
"Your mouth-" His voice is hoarse as he eases his cock inside the warmth of your mouth. He cannot take his eyes off of you, his beautiful, brilliant girl taking his cock so far into your mouth while you had taken to humping your own hand like an insatiable little slut.
"Fuck baby," He murmurs, letting the tip of cock meet the very back of your throat before inching out again, "is my little girl really getting turned on from sucking cock?" His humiliation is punctuated by a sharp and powerful thrust, one that has you seeing stars and your vision blurring as you fight to keep him inside your mouth. "You don't even have to do anything," He says through gritted teeth, "I'm doing all the work fucking this tiny little mouth of yours, aren't I?" You can feel how turned on he is. He's fucking huge inside your mouth as he slides himself to and fro like his life depended on it.
"God you're so beautiful like this," He whispers, "You're so fucking beautiful taking my cock like a good little whore."
Jihoon's gaze lowers down to where your hand has taken to pushing aside your panties and rubbing swift wet circles on your clit.
"You're not gonna cum like that," He says, almost immediately stilling his frantic hips, "when you cum, it's gonna be because of me, understand?" His grip on your forearm is solid as he pulls you up from off the shower floor. You're absolutely limp in his hands, breath heavy as he brings you close to him. There is a silent, almost tender exchange, with him breathing heavily in your face while you stare wide eyed up at him.
Soon, he's spinning you around with his hands digging into your sides as he presses your front against the fogged up glass. Letting your tits push against the cool, wet surfaces, he draws your hips to his.
Before he sinks his cock into you, a very strange thing happens. Soft pillowy lips brush against your shoulder blade, eliciting a sharp gasp from you.
"Thank you," He whispers before sinking his cock into you with determination. He bottoms out faster than you anticipate, all while you've taken to moaning and whimpering like a mad woman. Your sounds egg him on, until he's rutting his twitching cock inside of you, desperately searching for the alleviation of a budding and aching need inside him.
"You feel so fucking good, you know that?" You hear him behind you. Feel him behind you. Your walls stretch and contract around his cock who continues to bully your insides.
"F-Fuck, Jihoona-"
"Fuck, you're squeezing me, Princess," Your orgasm sneaks up on you pile the devil himself, stripping you of your dignity as you push your hips backwards, almost instinctively forcing his cock deeper as you fucked yourself back onto him. Jihoon's mind is absolutely deranged with lust. He sinks his nails into the softness of your sides and he pulls your hips impossibly closer. He fucks you like a madman, his cock is fluid and quick, pushing against that particular cushion of nerves that has your orgasm feeling like an absolute lifetime. Your panties that had been carelessly pushed aside creates a second later of friction that has him so dangerously close to the edge.
"I'm going to cum inside you." He states while never letting himself stop fucking you, "Fuck- I'm going to cum inside you-" It's the hardest you've ever seen him cum before. His hair is messy and a darker shade under the wetness of the shower, his eyes are hooded and glossy and his body is shuddering against you, overcome by a wave of vicious shocks as he stutters and empties his balls deep inside of you. His cock is forced deeper than it's ever been and you're made completely full of his load. Jihoon is utterly spent as he lowers his weight onto your back. Letting a sea of kisses reign down on your back as your heavy breathing fills the warm and damp air.
"You look so fucking beautiful," He says, never letting his pecks against your back stop, "so fucking gorgeous." That seems like apology enough, on both parts.
#i feel like there's not much left to say about this...#i can't believe i've never seen this before#considering i am on a neverending hunt for woozi fics#regardless...im stunned!#something about the writing in this is very natural as well#def need to see what else op has in store...#recs#ro's.recs
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Say Don't Go
SUMMARY: For too long you had been waiting for Vernon. For too long you had let these feelings fester. Now all you can do is wait and beg for him to not let you leave.
GENRE: Angst
PAIRING: Vernon Chwe x afab!reader
WC: 1.6k
SERIES MASTERLIST
PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez
SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode
18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOGGED
WARNINGS: hurt no comfort, Vernon is an asshole, toxic relationship, implied friends with benefits, mentions of blood/knives but no one actually gets hurt it's just a metaphor, people being nosy at restaurants, a waitress is extra nosy, swearing, brief mentions of alcohol, friends to fwb to ???, ending is open-ended
A/N: I'm planning on finishing this series asap because good god I've been working on it for TOO LONG. Hopefully I'll be able to finish by mid-January jghisrghuis. Also this is NOT edited so i apologize for any mistakes.
Sometimes you wonder where it all went wrong, when you and Vernon went from something to nothing in his eyes.
Even as you lay in his arms now, you know that he would rather be anywhere else but with you in your living room. There’s a coldness in his hand as it brushes your arm, a discomfort in the smile he sends you at every comment you make about the film on your TV screen. Your fingers play with a loose string on his t-shirt and you exhale quietly, letting your body deflate against him.
It had been months now since you and Vernon started messing around. You weren’t dating, no, Vernon hated the idea of being exclusive with someone while he was so young. This was…this was something else. You knew he slept with other people, knew that every night he found someone knew but on the weekends he crawled back to you. He made you think he loved you. You wonder if he knew that you’d only ever slept with him. That he was your first everything, and that it broke your heart every time he left you.
“You’re thinking.” And then he does this. He knows you so well it scares you. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Vernon lifts his head off the arm of the couch, straining to look at where you lay on his chest.
“You’re lying to me now?” A crooked smile, playful yet curious, is flashed in your direction. Your stomach churns uncomfortably, knowing that despite him being able to read you so well, you knew nothing of what he was thinking. Not anymore, at least.
“Why would I lie to you?” Your eyes are drooping, and you nuzzle deeper into his chest. His hand slowly trails up your arm and rests on your head.
“Why wouldn’t you?” His voice sounds faint.
“Because I love you.”
He says nothing, and you don’t expect him to. Not anymore. In the past, before acceptance had hit you, maybe you would’ve hoped he would. Maybe you would’ve begged him to say it back, and maybe he would’ve. He would’ve let you believe that he loved you, but you know he doesn’t.
You should’ve known better than to believe that Vernon would show up. You should’ve known better than to convince yourself that he wouldn’t forget you at the restaurant, that he wouldn’t choose someone else over you.
Now, three hours later, you’re finishing up another drink, picking at the dessert you’d treated yourself to after the meal. You weren’t going to let your own naivety ruin your night, even if the tears welling in your eyes have been threatening to spill over like a waterfall. You’re glad you’d chosen a booth for yourself, facing away from the door so you don’t get your hopes up every time it opens.
The knife in your heart has been twisted far too many times, the blood spilling down your chest for all to see. You were tired of it, so why were still holding out hope for him?
Someone sinks into the booth across from you, out of breath and leaning his head back for a few moments.
“Shit, traffic was bad.” Vernon gasps out. A lie. “And— and then the parking. Shit, the parking was awful.” Why is he lying?
“Stop.” Vernon stares at you, his lips still parted as he catches his breath. “Stop lying to me, please. For once.”
His lips draw into a thin line, and he adjusts his position to sit straighter. It almost hurts to see him so dressed up for you, but then you see the lipstick on his collar and your anger comes back.
The waitress returns with your check, shooting Vernon a dirty look. She’d pieced together the story on her own, not that it was hard to figure out. A heartbroken girl, alone in a booth for two hours. Who wouldn’t be able to figure out what happened?
The two of you sit silently in the booth as you fill out your bill, sliding your card into the book and placing it near the edge of the table.
“You’re mad at me.” Vernon concludes, and you scoff.
“Yeah, sure.” You cross your arms, and Vernon bites on his tongue.
“Why— why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” He tries to keep his voice down, his hands tightening into fists. Your eyes scan him, scan his tense posture and the muscles ticking in his jaw.
“I feel like it should be obvious, no?” The ice in your glass of water has melted and you take a small sip, letting the cold liquid slide down your throat slowly.
“Well, I’m sorry to say this, but it’s not.” You sniff, whether in distaste or to hold back your tears you can’t tell. “Sometimes you have to actually tell people what you want.”
“I have, Vernon.” You hiss and smile at the waitress when she grabs the check again. “I have voiced everything to you time and time again, and yet you seem to ignore it. It’s like you don’t care about me— and I’m not talking about our fucking sex life.”
He opens his mouth to talk, but you keep going.
“Did you forget that we were friends before this?” You ask him, and for a moment he thinks it’s rhetoric. When you don’t continue speaking, he stutters out a response.
“I— no, I didn’t, but Y/N—”
“If you didn’t forget then why do you act like this?” Your eyebrows are furrowed, your lips pursed. “All— All I ever asked of you is to prioritize our friendship over anything else. That— that if you thought things were getting past the point of no return, then we’d break it off. But you didn’t, and it’s like you couldn’t give less of a damn about me anymore. Why, Vernon? Why the fuck didn’t you break it off when you figured out I was falling in love with you?”
It’s like a bucket of ice-cold water has been tossed over him, the heat from running to meet you being entirely replaced with a cold sweat. He knew, of course. How could he not have known when you made it so obvious?
“You— you’re blaming me for this?” He asks. “You’re the one who agreed to be in this relationship— no, you’re the one who brought it up in the first place!”
“Because I liked you!” The tables around you are turning their heads, and you lower your voice. “I knew what I was getting into when you first kissed me at that fucking holiday party at Seungcheol’s, but it’s your fault that it got to this point. It’s your fault for stringing me along even though you knew the whole fucking time.”
Your heart is pounding, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and your head feels like it’s going to explode at any moment.
“So— so this is it then?” Vernon sinks back against the uncomfortable booth. “You’re throwing away six years of friendship because— because what? You couldn’t control your fucking feelings? Well, I’m sorry but I’m not gonna be part of your fucking pity party.” You hear a gasp from the booth behind you, as well as hushed whispers, and suddenly all your anger is replaced by embarrassment.
“I— I can’t believe you.” You whisper, staring at him with wide eyes. “I— why would you say that?”
Vernon’s mind races, thoughts of regret and fear pushing forward as he watches you grab your purse.
“Y/N—” he starts to stand but you raise your hand to stop him. His hands are on the table, the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground.
“I…I loved you, Vernon.” You try to control your breathing, but it feels impossible with the rush of emotions hitting you. “I’m sorry that I meant nothing to you, but do not blame this shit on me.”
He watches you walk away, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Stunned is not quite the word for what he’s feeling at the moment. Confused? No…no he’s not confused. Vernon knows exactly why this happened, and knows that the only person to blame is himself.
You hesitate at the door, your hand reaching for the handle slowly as if waiting for something. He wonders if you’re waiting for him to say something, to chase you and tell you not to leave.
He doesn’t, and he watches you leave the restaurant and shudder under the frigid weather of mid-December.
Your waitress clears her throat, that same dirty look on her face.
“She forgot her card.” She explains, thrusting it back into his hand. “Make sure it gets back to her.”
“I…I uh—”
“I get that you’re a stupid bitch,” she whispers harshly to him, and his head jerks back in shock. “But that girl waited two and a half fucking hours for you. If you give even the tiniest shit about her, you’ll run out the door right now and fix it.”
Vernon’s mouth is hanging open as the waitress walks away to her next table, a fake grin plastered onto her face.
You waited for him.
You waited for him, knowing that he wasn’t going to come, and now he’s fucked everything up beyond repair.
His feet are moving before his mind does.
The bell above his head chimes and his breath is knocked out of him once again when he takes his first gulp of cold air.
Don’t go. Please, please don’t go.
Don’t leave me.
© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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nerd bf!wonwoo headcannons
content/warnings: gn!reader, university!au, swearing, a suggestive line but nothing explicit, mentions of drinking/being drunk but nothing crazy or gross, all fluff just fluff
@cheolsblackgf gala my gala thank you for requesting im flattered u thought i could do the request justice and i had a lot of fun with this hehe muah
taglist (aka the one person who consistently likes my work and has asked to be tagged): @livmixes
masterlist
oddly enough you two meet at a party
you meet bc seungkwan from statistics invites you to one of sigma lambda tau's frat parties
you are, of course, a little tipsy
so when seungkwan introduces you to his comp sci frat brother wonwoo, you hop at the opportunity to divulge how bad you are at the stat program you’re forced to use
seungkwan, being the lovely wingman he is, is absolutely thrilled to make wonwoo promise to tutor you
to which he responds…”i don’t know if i’ll really be much help but…sure?”
he’s practically blushing and giggling the whole time, partly because you’re fun and hot and partly because wow where are all these compliments coming from
and of course wonwoo is a huge help because he’s a genius and always downplays his talents
and then he asks you out like a gentleman and you start dating and its bliss, obviously
let’s talk about his little habits
he literally never brags about his knowledge
even if he has a huge accomplishment, you will never find out unless there’s some public announcement about it
apparently he won the highest coding competition in your university but you don’t know until you see his face on the front of the fucking university paper?? (seriously, how does he manage to be an active member of a frat, hang out with you, and do all this other shit)
and you text him a photo of it with a question mark
and he just laughs it off like “oh yeah that’s the coding project i told you i had to work on last saturday lol”
you think its because he’s humble but it’s really just because he’s shy when you dote on and compliment him (which is proven when you buy him a little cake and he can barely meet your eyes)
its the same when you visit his room in the frat house for the first time as well
you walk in his room and he’s all ready to watch a movie and play mario kart and, you know, hopefully…get to other things…
and mingyu has fully put his noise cancelling headphones in because wonwoo has been kind enough to warn the person he shares a wall with!
but all mingyu can hear through his headphones is you screaming “what the hell, how are you so damn talented?” upon seeing every plaque, trophy, and certificate he’s won while being in college
and then he reminds you that you have just as many awards for your major and activities
and you merely side eye him for the betrayal of hiding his nerdiness from you
well, he may not brag, but his nerd tendencies are certainly not hidden
this man is not a literature major OR minor but he takes at least one literature class a year because he has the extra credits and he just fucks with reading like that
you know when he’s stolen a book from you to read because any new word that you have highlighted suddenly starts popping up in his vocabulary
also, wonwoo does NOT play about finals season
he always gets to the library much earlier than you, managing to grasp a decent study room
he leaves a little breakfast sandwich in your spot for when you arrive
if you’re going to study with him, you’re going to study, okay?
if you’re talking nonsense and trying to show him tiktoks during the allotted study time he deadass just will not respond to you
if you leave the study room for one singular second he’s taking your phone and hiding it (he will give it back when the pomodoro timer goes off!)
the one concession is when he sees you dozing off and he knows ur trying your hardest to study. but he pats your head and tells you to get a little nap instead of forcing yourself to study
last but not least
you’re very grateful that he’s in a frat
because it means you have a close, nice place to stay when you wanna get silly and drunk and rowdy with his frat bros and all your friends
and the two of you can leave whenever you want (after he makes sure all your friends are safely tucked in their ubers <3) and go up to his room and play, quite possibly, the most fun game of pubg in your life
and his face is flush and his laughs are loud and you smile because he’s in his happy place and he smiles because you’re his happy place
a/n: i’ve never done a headcannon before and i think i made this too long lol. consider it a treat
reblog if u liked this <3 send any requests if you have 'em
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🙏🏻 This is my first time submitting a request because I can’t stop imagining Dino helping his drunk BFF home while secretly being in love with her 🧎🏼♀️Please if you have time!
superpower
summary: not all heroes wear capes, but chan would probably do so if you asked.
pairing: lee chan x reader
type: drabble
genre: fluff
au: friends to ?, pining
word count: 1.4k (oops)
rating: pg15 — still, minors do not have my consent to interact.
cw: alcohol/drunkenness, obvi; no pronouns or gendered language is used for reader.
a/n: not even remotely proofread (double oops), but i still love this down-bad doofus, so i hope you do, too!
“I’m not saying I have superpowers, but I’m not not saying it.”
Your eyes are blinking a little more slowly than usual, but the unimpressed look you fire off at Chan can’t be missed.
“Can you just —” A hiccup cuts your question in half. You frown with your whole face just to make it clear how serious you are. “Hold my hand? It’s wobbly.”
Chan knows you’re referring to the sidewalk — where you stand and sway along to music that isn’t playing — but that description fits his knees, too.
He hopes you’re too busy pouting at him to notice the way he wipes his palms against his jeans, afraid you’ll notice how nervous you make him. You start to lean a bit too heavily to one side for his liking, though; and he thinks it’s safe to bet that you’re not noticing much of anything.
That settles it.
The second he envelopes your hand in his, you take it a step further, tugging him close enough that you can slot yourself under his arm.
“Smell nice,” you mumble from his side. “‘s that the new stuff? From the place?”
Now, Chan is the one that’s blinking slowly. He was as drunk as you were until you needed him, and despite his sobering up on a dime — which is a superpower, thank you very much — his processing speed is lagging. You nudge him with your elbow, as if that’ll make what you just said make sense.
“Ahhh!” He plays along, making a big show of realizing things. “Yes, that place. By the thing, right?”
You nod. “Exactly.”
Behind you both, the Uber that dumped you back at your place pulls away from the curb. Three beats later, you tilt your head and cheer “goodbye” at a long-gone Kia. He feels his heart swell three sizes in chest.
“You like it?” He redirects you because he’s a little bit greedy for your praise — and also because he bought this cologne with the hope that you’d compliment it. Chuckling, he notes, “Considering how much I’m propping you up right now, you’ll probably end up smelling like me.”
When you smile and mutter, “Good,” Chan suddenly feels weightless.
It takes some concentrated effort, but he manages to guide you up the front steps to your apartment building. It takes significant concentrated effort to corral you into the elevator once you clear the threshold. You would’ve spent your night talking the doorman’s ear off, otherwise, providing a dramatic retelling of every single step you took over the last few hours. It takes everything Chan has not to laugh at the relieved sigh he gets in thanks for intervening, although it’s hardly altruistic to want your rambling to himself.
Surrounded by the metallic walls of the elevator car, you point to your joint reflection and muse, “Someone’s awful smiley this evening.”
Chan makes eye contact without having to tilt his head. His brain works overtime to churn out a response that isn’t self-incriminating, but the only thought ricocheting around his brain relates to how cute you look, nestled into him.
With a ding, your reflection is gone. The moment goes with it, and without a barrier in front, so do you — like a bat out of hell.
“Oh, my god,” you wail when your apartment door comes into view. “I thought I’d never see you again!”
Chan chases after you, arriving embarrassingly out-of-breath — and more than a little fond — just in time to watch you wrestle your keys out of your pocket. They clatter to the floor the second they’re free. You groan, bereft at the loss.
“Stay here,” he says firmly with a finger pointed because he knows you, knows you’ll take one or both of you out of commission if you don’t heed his warning.
Your eyes cross a little bit as you stare down the barrel of it, but you listen, thankfully; and he’s able to pick up your slack without anyone receiving a concussion. He’s able to usher you into your own home without further incident, too.
Once again: superpowers.
The task of kicking your shoes off is apparently too much to ask of you, so you wander off to your bedroom without even trying. His Nikes are discarded so hurriedly that they barely hit your mat by the time he takes off after you. The second he catches up, he wins the pleasure of watching you flop backwards onto your mattress.
Funny, he thinks. His heart makes a similar thwump when you smile at him the way you are right now.
Gesturing to the feet dangling off the edge of your bed, he laughs. “Can I please help you?”
You shoot him with dual-wielded finger guns. He takes that as a yes, please, and gets to work on the triple knots you managed to install in your laces.
“Chan?”
He hums in acknowledgment without looking up, too confounded by your drunken rope-work to take his eyes off his fingers.
Were you a sailor in a past life?
A little louder and a lot more pathetically, you whine, “Chan,” adding several seconds’ worth of the vowel sound in the process.
Chan has no option but to look up at you. As far as he’s concerned, he’s got no choice but to smile with all of his teeth, too. “You rang?”
“You’re so nice.” It’s supposed to be a whisper, he suspects, but it sounds much more like a shout. “How?”
His bemused snort is disguised by the sound of your right shoe hitting the floor.
“I mean it!” You laugh — like he’d ever doubt you — and smack your palms against your duvet for emphasis. “Like, hello? Good boy alert!”
That — well, that does something to Chan that he’s not willing to unpack right now. Instead, he shucks off your other shoe, bites back his smile, and sits back on his heels.
For a minute, the two of you stay that way: you gazing at him, him gazing right back at you. In every second that slips by in comfortable silence, he works to convince himself that the twinkle in your eye is a byproduct of the shots you took, nothing more. You’re smiling at him like that because you won’t have to sleep in your shoes tonight.
Right?
You nibble thoughtfully on your lower lip before your smile turns sheepish. “Chan?”
He’s not thinking that an angel gets its wings whenever you say his name, but he’s not not thinking that.
“The one and only,” he says with a nod, and he only cringes a little bit at his words, after the fact.
Whatever you want to say next seems to be stuck on its way out. In fact, you open and close your mouth twice to no avail. Patience is a virtue, and you are divine, so he waits there — on his knees, no less — and lets you take the lead. Your eyes flick from his face to the fidgeting fingers in your lap, then to the blank space at your side.
“It’s cold out,” you finally declare.
It’s July, but that’s neither here nor there.
“You shouldn’t have to walk home in this weather.”
The sky simply couldn’t be clearer, but Chan would take your word for it if you said that it was green.
“Maybe you should stay.”
He tries not to let the giddiness overtake him. Really, he does. He attempts to shrug nonchalantly, but it's more of a shiver than anything else, and he’s scrambling to his feet before he can chide himself for it.
You laugh — with your whole chest, no less — when he leaps into the spot beside you, settling flat on his back and grinning up at the ceiling. You’re still giggling when you mimic his graceless movements, still beaming when you turn your head to look at him. The air still feels electric, somehow, even after the laughter peters off.
A few moments pass, probably. He doesn’t notice them on their way out.
In a whisper that is actually a whisper, you say his name again, and it kicks off that wild thwump inside his chest.
“Yes?” He responds, much more quietly than his pulse in his ears.
You tug gently at the pillow under his head to draw attention to it. “You’ll probably end up smelling like me now.”
#all my lee chan lovers rise up#ugh he is just so sweet so precious here#good boy alert!#literally the biggest gentleman known to man#recs#ro's.recs#mutuals
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i was thinking about this on my drive home from work and wondered what other people’s thoughts are:
*i’m more curious about the vibe you feel you give off rather than, like, actual talent. feel free to explain your choice in the replies, reblogs, or tags!
#resident bbygirl for sure#im the youngest in nearly all my friend groups and in my family#im used to being babied and loved#mutuals
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SEEING STARS
SUMMARY: It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of schoolwork for you.
GENRE: smut, fluff, mild angst, crack
PAIRING: Kim Sunwoo x afab!reader (ft. Hoshi, Dino, Sangyeon, Kevin, Eric, Yuta, and Jay (Enhypen))
WC: 9.4k (you'd think i was doing this on purpose)
SERIES MASTERLIST
PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez
18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
WARNINGS: mentions of injuries (concussions, Sunwoo gets sucker punched), Eric slander, Sunwoo slander, Hoshi stirring up trouble, Sunwoo being stupid, car sex/public sex, p in v sex, fingering, mentions of face fucking, marking, hair pulling, attempts at dirty talk kinda? idk if you can even call it that but wtv, i think that's really it
A/N: Part 3 of the collab is out! If you haven't checked out Try Hard or Excitement (written by my beloved Fawn) please do! Otherwise, please enjoy this. Reblogs are greatly appreciated!
In Sunwoo’s defense, everything that happened was Eric’s fault. It was definitely not Sunwoo’s fault that he believed his best friend when he told him that he should absolutely kick a ball at the girl of his dreams so she could bring it back to him and she would fall for him too and then they could live happily ever after. It also wasn’t Sunwoo’s fault that he forgot that he was their university’s star soccer player and that he had really strong legs.
At least, this is what he tells himself while sitting in the ambulance with you, who is currently passed out with a lump the size of a clementine on your forehead. He’s nervously gnawing at his fingernails, chewing them to nubs with his eyebrows furrowed. The EMTs said that you’re stable, that you just have a mild concussion but they want to take you in and get you checked out to be sure.
“Are you her…friend? Boyfriend?” One of the EMTs looks at Sunwoo with a curious look in his eye.
“Friend, just a friend,” he says, but there’s a dark cloud hovering above his head that anyone could see if they tried hard enough.
“Is there anyone that we can call? Anyone else that we should inform?” Sunwoo shrugs.
“Not that I know of. Her family is across the country so they wouldn’t be any help right now, right?”
“Right,” the EMT agrees. “I suppose you’ll be helping her out the next couple of weeks, making sure no one else is hitting her in the head with soccer balls?” Sunwoo grimaces and nods.
You’re never gonna like me at this rate, he thinks to himself. God, why did he ever listen to Eric in the first place? What made him think that Eric, the man who spends 90% of his time completely bitchless and watching hentai, would give him good advice about women?
Now he’s gonna have to deal with student loan debt, lawyer debt, and being single for the rest of his life.
The first thing you see when you wake up is white. Not, like, a white ceiling. No, your vision is pure white for a few moments, and then you swear that you’re seeing stars. You can faintly, over the pounding of your head, hear someone speaking. The voice is familiar, but you can’t quite place it over the ringing in your ears.
“…Eric, I swear to fucking god if I ever see you again, I will shove my foot so far up your ass— I don’t care if you thought it would be a good idea! I concussed the richest girl in school, the girl of my dreams mind you, because you thought it would be a fantastic idea to kick a ball at her!”
You blink a few times, clearing your vision, and you can see a boy to the right of you. He’s wearing a soccer uniform, the same uniform your university’s team wears. You blink again, and now he’s facing you with a nervous smile plastered onto his face.
“Hi,” he breathes out and you smile at him.
“Hi…Woo…sung?” You wince at the poor attempt. Of course, you know who he is. Anyone would recognize the star soccer player. Maybe you weren’t positive about what his name was, but you knew him.
He laughs, but it’s a humorless one that has both of you cringing after.
“Close,” he tells you with a smile. “Sunwoo.”
“Right,” you nod, but the action causes a painful throb to run through your skull. “Fuck, why does my head hurt so much?”
Sunwoo laughs again, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and avoiding your gaze.
“About that…” his hand combs through his hair, pushing it out of his face despite it not being there in the first place. “I…may or may not have kicked a ball in your general direction, which may or may not have proceeded to hit you in the head and give you a concussion.”
You kiss your teeth, eyebrows knitting together as you look at him. He begins to ramble, talking about how it’s his friend’s fault, and he really never meant for it to hit you. It’s cute, really, the way he practically falls to his knees and begs you to not sue him.
“Sunwoo,” you try to interrupt, but it’s like he doesn’t hear you. He’s speaking too fast, too frantic, and you’re pretty sure he’ll faint if he doesn’t pause for air soon.
“I— I will do anything you want, I swear! I’ll— I’ll carry your stuff around campus for you. I’ll take all your notes so you don’t have to look at the screens. Fuck— I swear, I—”
“Sunwoo,” You reach your arm forward, wrapping your fingers around his forearm and his pacing jerks to a stop, his words caught on the tip of his tongue when you lock eyes. “I’m not gonna sue you.”
“You’re—” his voice cracks, “you’re not?”
“No,” you laugh and wince when your head begins to throb again. “Although, I wouldn’t mind if you helped me out with my schoolwork.”
“I…” he trails off, his heart sinking to his stomach. “Yeah, yeah of course I’ll help you. But— but you really aren’t going to sue me? Because— because I wouldn’t mind if you were that mad at me but I think I would really rather you just have me arrested at that point, you know?”
“I promise, Sunwoo.” You squeeze his forearm, and his cheeks begin to darken with a tinge of pink. “I’m not gonna sue you.”
As it turns out, having the star soccer player around to do anything and everything you want him to is rather convenient. Sunwoo picks you up every day for your first class in his old, beat-up Toyota Corolla. He opens the door for you, hands you a fresh go-cup of your favorite coffee from your favorite cafe (which you aren’t sure how he knows, to be honest), and brings you to each and every one of your classes. It’s almost weird how you’ve gotten used to having him around.
“By the way,” you look up at Sunwoo as you’re getting into his car after your last class of the day. Sunwoo looks down at you, smiling brightly and you can feel yourself starting to melt at the puppy-like look in his eye. “Are you even taking classes this semester?”
Sunwoo tilts his head. “I mean…yeah? I kinda have to, you know, to play soccer.”
“But…you’re always with me these days. Are you not missing your own assignments? Your own exams?”
“I don’t have any exams during your classes,” he informs you and then shuts the passenger-side door, gently to not hurt your head. You let your body rest against the tattered fabric seat you’re in, waiting for Sunwoo to get to his side of the car. “Plus, I have friends in my classes that send me shit when I’m not there.”
“You skip your classes often?” Your lips curl into a sly smile, one that he returns quickly.
“You know it, babe.”
Your body tenses just slightly, not enough for him to notice. It was likely instinctive for him to say that, and you would never admit to anyone how the words had butterflies forming in your stomach, pushing against your flesh, and threatening to tumble out of you if he made one wrong move.
Sunwoo slams the door of the frat shut and presses his back against it as soon as he enters the building. His eyes are squeezed shut, so tightly that he can see stars and it starts to hurt.
“You alright?” Eric is sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees with a Nintendo controller in his hands. He isn’t looking at Sunwoo, his eyes trained on the fourth Five Nights At Freddy’s game being displayed on the TV in front of him.
“I don’t even want to talk about it.” Sunwoo dismisses, dropping his bag on the floor and tossing his keys into the bowl to his right. “Especially not with you.”
“The fuck did I do?” Eric’s eyebrows knit together, and Sunwoo scoffs as he walks behind the couch to get to the kitchen.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you were part of the reason that Y/N L/N is now concussed and probably hates my guts so I’m trying to fix it by helping her out with all of her school work, which is hard as shit, by the way. Did you know that she’s a mechanical engineering major?”
“No shit?” Eric’s eyes flick away from the TV screen for just long enough for him to nearly miss an animatronic approaching him. “I wonder if she’s in any of my classes.”
“Probably not,” Sunwoo sighs, grabbing a glass from the shelf and pouring himself some water. “She’s in Sangyeon’s year so her classes are a bit more advanced than yours.”
“Ah,” Eric bobs his head, tongue wedged between his otherwise tightly sealed lips. Sunwoo watches him play for a moment, wincing at a few jumpscares while he downs his water. “What’s that gotta do with me, anyway? Isn’t this, like, bonding time for you two? Finally land your girl?”
“Well, would’ve been perfect if, a) she hadn’t hated me and b) I didn’t call her babe in the car today.”
Silence from Eric, and Sunwoo briefly wonders if his best friend had even heard him.
“Why the fuck did you do that?” Eric pauses the game and tosses his controller onto the couch next to him as he turns around.
“It was an accident!” Sunwoo defends. “It just kinda…slipped out while I was talking to her. A reflex!”
“You called the girl you concussed babe on reflex?” Eric exclaims in disbelief. “Are you stupid?”
“Says the one who suggested kicking the ball at her!”
“Yeah, well at least I didn’t give the girl of my dreams a concussion!”
“It was your fault!” Sunwoo yells, and Eric scoffs.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you feel better.”
“He called me babe, Soonyoung,” you’re laying face down on your friend’s bed, kicking your feet in the air behind you with his tiger plushie tucked under your arms.
“Mhm,” he’s not paying attention, instead focusing on the tiger Lego set that you had given him for his birthday. “Very nice.”
“Ugh, and he’s so sweet too.” You continue to ramble, grinning like a mad woman when you recall the notes he had diligently taken for you despite not knowing a damn thing about Applied Measurements. “Did I tell you about the notes he took for me the other day? The ones that he—”
“—Color-coded and annotated for you?” Soonyoung interrupts, finally slamming down the little pieces of plastic in his hand. You flinch at the noise. “Left little notes about things he found interesting or didn’t quite understand but tried to explain anyway? Yeah, you told me.”
You duck your head, trying to ignore the throbbing. It had mostly gone away, but occasionally loud noises would spike pain through your skull.
“Sorry…” you mumble, letting your legs fall flat on the mattress. Soonyoung turns to face you, pursing his lips.
“Y/N, if you like this kid so much then why not ask him out?”
“It’s not like that!” You protest, but a sharp look from your best friend makes you backtrack. “At least, not for him. He’s just doing this because he feels bad for me! And besides, I’m a few years older than him, so wouldn’t it be weird?”
“How is that weird?” Soonyoung inquires, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “He’s of age, isn’t he?”
“Of age,” you scoff and make air quotes. “What is this, the 1600s?”
Soonyoung glares at you and sits back in his chair. “I don’t care if you’re concussed, I’ll make that lump in your skull bigger if you push me.”
At his warning, you huff.
“Okay, fine, yes, he is. But it’s weird for me! I’m a senior in college, about to enter the work force if I can get my senior project proposal done, and he’s just a sophomore! He’s the university’s star soccer player, he’s just starting to get ahead. I don’t want to, like, stunt that for him.”
“Y/N,” Soonyoung rolls his chair toward you with a sympathetic smile on his face. “I can almost guarantee that Sunwoo will not care if you’re a few years older than him. I don’t think he’ll care if he’s just starting college. If I’m being honest, he finds that all the more reason to be attracted to you. Young men love older women— but you aren’t old!” He quickly backtracks before you can cut him off. “You’re not old, and believe me when I tell you that not a single person in the world would be doing this for someone that they weren’t attracted to.”
“Are you sure?” You sit up, wrapping your whole body around the tiger plushie, and Soonyoung nods.
“I promise.”
“Then…how do I get him to know that I…that I’m also attracted to him?”
Soonyoung grins and you feel your heart drop.
“Boy, do I have some ideas for you.”
Sunwoo is getting worried. The last four days have been ridiculously quiet for him, his days empty and dragging on without you around him.
You were avoiding him, he could tell. Whenever he showed up to pick you up from your dorm, someone else was already there. A man, your age and clearly friends with you if the wide smile on your face said anything. You would lock eyes with him, your smile falling when you saw the confusion and hurt in his eyes. You would turn your gaze away and the man would get your door for you, laughing about something you said.
Then there was the avoidance of his texts. He would ask if everything was okay, how your head was doing, random jokes or comments about things he saw on campus. Things that he would tell you had you been with him during the day. It wasn’t like it was unusual for the two of you to text now. In fact, it was weird when you weren’t messaging each other about something but now…
It’s like you’re trying to block out his existence.
“I’m telling you,” Kevin hands Sunwoo a case of beer, cutting into the younger man’s frantic rambling. “She’s probably just busy, dude.”
“Then why wouldn’t she tell me?” Sunwoo pouts, carrying the case into the house. Kevin follows with a case of his own.
“Hell if I now,” he scoffs. “You think I have time to psychoanalyze everything rich girls do?”
“I mean…isn’t that your whole thing?” Sangyeon chimes in. “Psychoanalyzing everything about everyone?”
“That’s not the point,” Kevin waves his hand in the air and huffs. “I’m busy enough with my own classes and practices, I can only do so many things at once.”
“Sunwoo,” Sangyeon turns to the soccer player with a stern look in his eye. “This is gonna be one of our biggest parties yet, I need you on top of your game to make sure people are enjoying themselves.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Kim Sunwoo,” Sangyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulders with an exasperated look on his face. “If I hear you ranting about the girl you concussed one more time I might just lose it. I’m putting you on door duty for the night.”
“What the fuck do you mean door duty?”
Sangyeon scans the room for a moment before his eyes land on a metal detector stick that Hyunjae had bought as a part of his last Halloween costume.
“Here,” He tosses it to Sunwoo and smiles sarcastically. “Use this, make sure people aren’t bringing weapons in or whatever.”
Sunwoo looks down at the metal detector in his hands, eyebrows knitting together.
“You’re serious?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“Are you sure that your plan worked?” You’re peering up at Soonyoung with a nervous look in your eye when you roll up to the TBZ party. “You’re sure he’s—”
“I’m positive, my dear.” Your best friend pats the top of your head, squinting at the frat house down the road. “I didn’t think this many people were gonna be here tonight.”
“Sunwoo mentioned that it was gonna be a big one,” you murmur. Soonyoung turns his gaze to you and sighs at the pout on your lips. You look pitiful, to be honest. At least in attitude, that is.
“Y/N,” you look at him again, “if Sunwoo doesn’t fall head over heels at this party and fuck you until you literally cannot walk then I give you full permission to give me a concussion, just like he did to you. Look at you! You look absolutely stunning!”
You find yourself smiling at Soonyoung’s words. He’s not wrong, you do look stunning. A loose, short black dress that dips down at your chest to reveal just enough cleavage. The straps are jeweled, glittering under the lights and highlighting the jewelry around your neck. The dress itself stops just low enough that it covers everything but shows enough to tease, and you’re wearing sleek black pumps with an ankle strap so your feet don’t fly out of them (you’d made that mistake before. Never again…).
“Now,” He claps his hands together and grins. “Let’s go get you your man, and get me a drink.”
In hindsight, you probably should have known that the party would not have been good for your head. Loud noises had never particularly been something you enjoyed. A lot of people assumed you loved parties due to your financial status, but that wasn’t true. In fact, you were a bit of a recluse. You had only a few friends, though you were nice to nearly everyone you met. Sunwoo happened to be an exception.
He wiggled his way into your life with that soccer ball, and you truly don’t think you can see a future without him in it, even if he just stays a friend.
The second you walk up the driveway, your head begins to pound, your vision flashing with stars, and you squeeze Soonyoung’s arm tightly to keep yourself from wobbling on your feet.
Then you see Sunwoo at the door, a large bucket to his right, and a hand-held metal detector in his hand. You can see him scanning people, waving girls in, and then stopping men and pointing at the bucket. You feel a lump forming in his throat when you take in the sight of him. His hair is a mess of curls, the same curls you’d come to love since he gave you a concussion. He’s dressed in a tight-fitting black tee shirt and baggy jeans, nothing fancy but it brings the butterflies back to your stomach in full force.
“What the hell are you talking about?” The man in front of you scoffs at something Sunwoo said, and you blink yourself back to reality.
“$5 at the door,” Sunwoo shrugs, “sorry. I don’t make the rules.”
“It’s your frat!” The man yells. Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow.
“Yeah…do I look like the president or something?” The man stays silent and Sunwoo sighs. “Look, I don’t have the time to deal with you. Are you in or not? There’s a line of people behind you, and all of them wanna get in so you should probably pick fast.”
The student huffs, digging into his pocket for a dirty $5 bill, tossing it into the bucket, and shoving past Sunwoo. The soccer player just rolls his eyes and sighs again.
“Who’s up next—” he chokes on his words when he sees you, his eyes widening and his jaw-dropping. You smile nervously, raising your hand in a tiny wave while Soonyoung throws a few ones into the bucket.
“I’ll see you in there,” your friend says to you. “Text me if you need me.” Soonyoung squeezes your hand and nods at Sunwoo before walking into the house. You step to the side, letting people move past you but keeping a little bit of distance between you and the frat boy who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you yet.
“You’re here,” Sunwoo says, not even looking at the continuous line of people walking into the house without paying. “You’re— why are you here?”
A sheepish smile crawls onto your face. “Do you…not want me here?” Sunwoo panics, shaking his head rapidly and grabbing your hand in his.
“That’s not— that’s not what I meant.” He tells you, and you can’t help the warmth in your cheeks. “I just— your head. This can’t be good for your concussion, can it?”
You kiss your teeth, nodding slowly. “Yeah…Kinda got a little bit of a migraine right now.” You don’t tell him that the concussion has completely healed.
“Let’s— let’s get you someplace quieter, ba— Y/N.” He tugs at your hand, pushing you in front of him and covering your ears with your hand. He leans in close to you, his lips brushing the shell of one ear and you feel your breathing hitch in your throat.
“Cover your eyes a bit and look down, I can’t block your vision but I can shield your ears a bit, babe.” He lets it slip out this time, and you do as he says.
Sunwoo walks you forward, and you can see feet shuffling around the two of you. His hands do more than you expected, the sounds around you fairly muffled and dulling the throb in your skull. His body is so close to yours, his legs bumping into you with every step, but he keeps the two of you steady. Someone knocks into you, and Sunwoo says something to them, something harsh that you can’t make out over the noise of the party. He stops walking for a brief moment, now talking to someone else. You faintly hear a name, Chang-something, and then he’s fleeing the scene, knocking into you on his way out.
Sunwoo steps to your side when you reach a staircase, talking into your ear so you know exactly where each step is. Another person bumps into you, and Sunwoo takes a hand off your ear to wrap it around your waist.
“You can drop your hand,” he tells you. “The lights aren’t flashing over here.” You nod, and you feel his hand drop at the same time yours does. You’re still walking up the stairs and even though you don’t need help anymore, his hand stays on your waist, the touch sending electric shocks throughout your body.
Sunwoo feels like he’s going to throw up.
Scratch that. Sunwoo is going to throw up.
He really hadn’t expected to see you here. In fact, he hadn’t expected to see you at all for the rest of his college days. Had you finally decided to sue him? Are you serving him? He hadn’t seen any documents with you, but maybe—
“I’m not suing you, Sunwoo,” you sit on his bed with one leg crossed over the other. Your dress rides up your thighs, something Sunwoo tries desperately to ignore but he just can’t. “You can relax.”
You can relax, he repeats the words in his head over and over and over again, but he can’t. In fact, his body just grows more tense with the time that passes. Sunwoo tries to look at you, and then he tries not to look at you. There’s a heat in your gaze, and he can’t tell what the emotion behind it is. He hopes it’s not anger, he prays that you haven’t gotten angry with him.
“Are you—” he clears his throat. “Who was the guy you were with?” You tilt your head and he clarifies his question. “I just— I’ve seen him with you a lot these days so I was just— I just thought—”
“Who, Soonyoung? He’s not my boyfriend,” you tell him and laugh when he visibly deflates with relief.
“Good. I— I mean that’s— I just—” his face feels like it’s on fire, his stomach churning when you continue to laugh at him. When you wince and bring your hand up, he practically trips over himself to find an unopened bottle of water for you.
“How’s your head?” Sunwoo asks you, quietly now. You shrug and slide over so he can sit next to you on the edge of his bed.
“Concussion is better, just can’t do loud noises.” Sunwoo nods and you continue. “At the last check-up, my doctor said that I might get some headaches here and there though, at least for a little while.”
“Then why are you here? At a party?”
“I…guess I just wanted to see you?” You had this all planned out with Soonyoung. Why are you so nervous?
Sunwoo’s eyebrows knit together. “Why would you want to see me?”
“You’re joking, right?” You can’t help the scoff that leaves your lips, regretting letting it out when Sunwoo flinches and looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just…there’s no way that you don’t know by now.”
“Know what?” He presses, hoping that you’re saying what he’s been dreaming of you saying since he saw you on his first day at this university. You’re so close to him now, mere inches from him, and he fights every instinct inside of him that says to close that distance. He wants to hear everything you have to say.
You open your mouth to speak again, and there’s a knock on the door. Both of your heads whip around as it swings open, and Sunwoo’s heart sinks when he sees Soonyoung, the man you had entered the building with. He almost looked distraught that he’d entered the room.
“Hi, so sorry to interrupt. Um…” he looks at you with a grimace. “We gotta go.”
“What?” Your eyebrows furrow. “Why? I was talking with Sunwoo—”
“Yeah, sorry again, but we gotta go.” Sunwoo watches you get up, albeit reluctantly, and you turn to him.
“I’ll…we’ll talk later, okay?” You smile at Sunwoo, but you turn away before he can say anything to you.
“Promise?” He calls out, but the door is already shutting behind you.
You really did intend on texting Sunwoo after, to continue your conversation, but ‘after’ turns into two days, and then four, and then it’s been a week, and suddenly it’s almost finals. You know that Sunwoo’s game is today. The last game of the season. He’d raved about it a few times while studying with you. You knew how excited for it he was, knew how hard he was practicing to make sure he was in his best shape.
“What do you mean he’s about to be taken off the field?” You snap into your phone, scanning the lot around you for somewhere to park. It’s dark out, the lights in the lot hardly working so it makes it difficult to see any free spots. “Fuck, why is it always so fucking busy at these games?”
“He’s missed every shot— DAMN YOU DECELIS. YUTA GET THAT DAMN BALL—” You pull the phone away from your ear when Soonyoung starts to yell, hearing the crowd in the stadium erupt into cheers. “Another point to Decelis Uni. Anyway, no he’s been like…really off in his games, the only reason he isn’t off already is because of Lee Chan.”
“Thank god for him,” you sigh as you put your car into park. “Listen, I just parked, so just give me five minutes to get in there. Maybe he needs a good luck charm or something. Fuck it’s cold out here. Why did I wear a skirt to this damn game?”
“Did you just call yourself his good luck charm?”
“No, I just—” you huff.
“No, you’re right. I think you are because when you guys were talking, he’d been playing better than ever. Things went to shit after my plan.”
“Yeah, thanks for that by the way.”
“Any time, best friend. Get here soon. Maybe there will be a time out and you can kiss him or something.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
You shove your phone into your pocket, running toward the stadium as the crowd erupts into cheers again.
“What the fuck is going on with you?” Lee Chan grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder when half-time is called. Both boys are dripping with sweat, exhausted from the game. There had been so much back and forth between the two teams, keeping them tied almost constantly for the past 45 minutes. “You’ve been playing like shit for three games in a row, Kim Sunwoo. This isn’t like you. I’m not afraid to get Coach to bench you if you don’t get your shit together.”
Sunwoo huffs, grabbing his water bottle from the bench and ignoring his teammate so he can hydrate.
“I’m fine, just not feeling great.” He dismisses. Chan’s lip curls into a sneer.
“If we lose this game because of you, I swear to fucking god I will get you kicked from the team.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” Sunwoo rises to his feet and glares down at the team captain. He may be the star player, but it takes more than skill to hold a team together. Lee Chan has that ability. Morals, respect from his teammates, he has everything. That’s why Sunwoo backs down when Chan straightens his posture.
“You think I fucking won’t? Remember who got you on this team in the fucking first place.”
Sunwoo’s ears start to ring, and he can hear someone yelling his name. It sounds distant, and he swears he’s imagining it so he ignores it.
It happens again, louder this time and grabbing Chan’s attention as well. Both players whip their heads toward the crowd, and Sunwoo’s stomach drops.
There you are, shoving your way through the crowd to get to the barrier. People yell at you, and you say something that shuts them up. He’s in awe, staring at you and the distressed look on your face. You wave your hands to get his attention, and Chan shoves him again.
“If she’s why you aren’t on top of your game, you better fix shit right now. I’m not losing this one, Kim Sunwoo.”
“Yeah, got it.” It’s like he’s running on autopilot, walking toward you and then running. There are three minutes left in half-time, so he needs to make this fast.
“What are you doing here?” Sunwoo grabs onto the barricade and hauls himself up so he’s face-to-face with you, ignoring the people yelling around the two of you.
You grin at him, a mischievous look in your eye.
“You don’t want me here?” The panic in his eyes makes you laugh, and you lean toward him. He smells of sweat and grass and your nose wrinkles.
“I don’t— you know that isn’t what I meant.” He snaps, but you know he isn’t mad at you.
“Soonyoung said you were playing like shit, figured I’d find out why.” You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you so he can’t leave before you talk to him.
“I’m just distracted today.” You scoff and he narrows his eyes at you. “What?”
“You’ve been practicing for this game for weeks now, Kim Sunwoo. What could possibly have you so distracted today?”
He hesitates, and you already know his answer.
“I don’t have time to talk right now, Y/N.” He’s biting his lip, anxiously flicking his eyes to the clock behind him. You roll your eyes. Of course, he wouldn’t answer you. You knew he wouldn’t give you a straight answer, knew he was too nervous between the game and having you right in front of him to fully focus.
“Then I’ll make this fast.”
“Make what—” your lips are on his, your hand on the back of his neck to hold him close while you kiss him. His body stiffens and then relaxes, and then his hand comes to your arm to keep himself stable. His face slides against yours, transferring his sweat to your body and you pull back.
“Win this game,” you look into his eyes, but it’s like he can’t focus on you. He looks like he’s in a daze, and you tug at the strands of his hair to get his attention.
“I— yeah, I’ll win.” He promises but he sounds far away. The buzzer goes off. “I— what was—”
“If you win this game, you can take me on a date.” You grin and let go of him. Chan yells Sunwoo’s name and the boy pulls back from you reluctantly.
“Anywhere I want?”
“Anywhere.”
“Promise?” His eyes are shining when he looks at you. You smile, placing another gentle kiss on his plush lips.
“I promise.”
He’s running away from you now, a new lightness in his feet that had been missing the past two weeks. There’s fresh energy in his muscles, in his bones, and that overconfident attitude that his teammates and opponents despised returns in full force.
“I take it I’m not gonna have to pull you off the field?” The Coach eyes Sunwoo as he jogs by. Sunwoo slows and turns back with a wicked grin on his face.
“Not a chance in hell, Coach.”
“Can’t believe you kissed him.” Soonyoung nudges you with a grin, and you roll your eyes.
“Why? Didn’t think I had it in me?”
“No, it’s not that,” he shakes his head and lets out a sharp whistle when Sunwoo steals the ball from the opposing team. “He was covered in sweat and grass. Don’t you hate that shit?”
“Worth it,” Soonyoung snorts when you smile at him.
Since the start of the second half, Sunwoo had already brought their team into the lead by two points. You’d never seen him play before, but everything you’d heard was true. He was fast, agile, and strong. He was a beast on the field, keeping himself just out of reach of all the other players. You can tell the other team is starting to get agitated, starting the get rough with your school’s team.
You bite at your thumb as you watch the game proceed. Two minutes left in the game, and they’re tied again. You can see all the players getting tired, everyone slowing down. Sunwoo seems to be the only one with the energy to keep going, but even he seems to struggle.
30 seconds and Sunwoo has the ball again. The stadium has gone quiet and you could swear that you hear the ticking of the clock.
10 seconds and Sunwoo is almost to the goal, you stand from your seat, and people around you rise as well. Anticipation. Tension. The stadium is filled with it. People start cheering again, the other school starts yelling at their team to move their asses.
5 seconds and the crowd goes silent. Sunwoo is on the ground, a player from the other team on top of him. Players from all sides are running over, trying to see what happened. The announcers say that the opposing player, Park Jongseong, tackled Sunwoo, his hand unintentionally jamming the star player’s nose. A medic rushes over, but Sunwoo waves them away. You can’t see his face very well, but you can tell by his posture that he’s agitated.
Jongseong is penalized, and his coach takes him off the field for a moment. Sunwoo is set in front of the center of the goal, pacing while he waits for the ‘ok’ from the referee. He glances up at the crowd, and for a moment you swear that he looks at you. For a moment, you swear that you can see him smiling at you, through the throbbing in his face and the ache in his body. You could swear that he’s telling you I’m gonna win this. Trust me.
Jongseong is back on the field, the clock is set. The referee raises his hand, an indirect kick. Sunwoo rolls his neck, jogging backwards to get a headstart. Yuta and Chan are both ready to receive a pass.
The clock starts.
5
Sunwoo is running. You and the rest of the crowd are yelling at him to run faster. He does.
4
The ball is sailing through the air, Chan and Yuta and all the other players on the field are running for the ball. Yuta gets there first.
3
Yuta kicks the ball, but another player knocks it out of the air. Sunwoo is already waiting, stealing the ball and moving to an open space.
2
Sunwoo kicks the ball and watches it sail through the air. He doesn’t stop running, not when there’s still time on the clock
1
The crowd erupts into cheers, deafening you and you feel Soonyoung grab your shoulders, shaking you and yelling just as loud as everybody else. You feel a yell building in your chest.
0
They’ve won. Sunwoo is being hauled into the air by his teammates, The other team is sulking by their coach. You can’t go to him. Not yet. The crowd is beginning to clear, some people moving from the stands to leave the stadium and chat with their friends, to wait for the team to come out.
“You coming?” Soonyoung quirks an eyebrow at you but you know that he already knows the answer. A shake of your head confirms his suspicions and he grins. “Go get your man. I won’t interrupt this time.” He makes his way down the stands to the parking lot, and you smile while walking down to the field. The teams have dispersed now, done with talking to their coaches and making their way to the locker room. Sunwoo hangs back, talking with Chan as you walk across the turf. Your heart is pounding in your chest, so hard you fear it’ll burst from behind your ribcage.
Chan sees you first, jerking his head in your direction and clapping Sunwoo on the shoulder. Sunwoo turns as he walks away, and you can see the way his eyes light up when he recognizes you.
“I told you I’d win, didn’t I?” He grins at you when you get closer, but you don’t respond. You’re only a few steps from him now, and you take a deep breath. “You okay?”
“Your face is bruised…” you have to force yourself not to jump his bones right there, instead focusing on the blooming bruise on his right cheek. Your fingers brush over it and he doesn’t even flinch.
“It’s nothing,” he reassures you, resting his hands on your waist. “It’ll be gone in a week, I promise. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”
You smile back at him, craning your neck to look him in the eye.
“You think my head is pretty?”
“I think everything about you is pretty, babe.” Your cheeks heat up and he presses a kiss to your lips. It’s gentle, far less frantic than the one you gave him on the bleachers. Your hand trails from his cheek to the side of his neck, holding him close to you. Your lips part against his, your head tilting to give a better angle to kiss him at and he inhales sharply. Your body is on fire everywhere he’s touching you. Your waist, your lips, your neck. It feels electric and it pains you when he forces himself to separate from you, his nose brushing against yours.
“All that for winning a game?” he breathes out, pressing a light kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I should win more often if this is gonna be my reward from now on.”
Your lips curl into a smirk. “I’ll give you more than just a kiss if you want, Kim Sunwoo.”
It takes him a moment to process what you said. Sunwoo stares at you, eyes wide and jaw hanging open for so long that you almost consider taking back what you said.
“You’re— what happened to take me to dinner? What happened to hello, how are you?” His grip on your waist tightens and you shrug.
“I have more important things in mind.” Sunwoo’s whole body is tense, so tense that you feel like he’ll combust on the spot if you aren’t careful.
“I’m covered in dirt and sweat.” He tries as an excuse but you scoff. “I don’t think you wanna fuck me while I’m like this, right?”
“Do you really care about that?” He takes a deep breath.
“Me? No. I just…If I go with you right now I swear to god I’ll cum in my pants and I really don’t want that to happen during our first time together—”
“Sunwoo,” You grab his chin between two fingers and he snaps his mouth shut. “I don’t care about any of that. I care about you. I want you, whether or not you’re covered in sweat.” You reach one of your hands up, pushing his soaking wet hair out of his face and his features soften.
“You really…you like me, don’t you?”
“I figured it was obvious when I kissed you in front of the whole stadium, Sunwoo.” You kiss your teeth and step away from him. His grip loosens on you and eventually falls when you continue to back away from him, that sly grin still on your face.
“Where are you going?” He trails after you like a lost puppy but you just shrug.
“Come with me if you wanna find out.”
You silently thank god when you find the parking lot already half empty. Sunwoo’s car is a distance from most other cars, tucked under some trees that cast shadows over that old Toyota Corolla.
“You’re—” Sunwoo is cut off when you open the door to his back seat and shove him in. You hear some people behind you howling, briefly turning your head to see his teammates cheering him on.
“Get some, Kim Sunwoo!” Lee Chan screams and you laugh before crawling into the car behind Sunwoo.
You turn just enough to slam the car door shut, and then you’re on top of Sunwoo. He tugs you onto his lap, your skirt riding up enough to expose your thighs to him, but you give him no time to process anything, your lips already crushed against his. It’s sloppy, but the whine he emits just from the pressure behind it has heat curling in your stomach again. Your tongue dips into his open mouth, and he pushes against you with more force that you had anticipated. He curls his tongue around yours, sucking and licking at it, and your body begins to shudder against his.
Sunwoo drags your hips down against his own, groaning at the feeling of your heat against his growing member.
“Can’t wait to be inside you,” he hisses when he pulls away, moving his lips down to attach to your throat and sucking harsh marks into your skin. You whine at his statement, grinding against him of your own will once he’d set the rhythm. He feels so good against you, pressing against your clit in just the right way to have you curling against him with broken whines spilling from your lips. Sunwoo moves one of your hands to your hair, jerking your head to the side to expose more of your skin to him, and you know he grows impatient when your shirt gets in the way.
“Can I take this off?” He asks you, his eyes glittering when he looks up at you.
“Really think I’d say no to you?” You smile, reaching your hands down and pulling your shirt off and tossing it somewhere in the front seat. Sunwoo looks like he’s in heaven when you unclip your bra and throw it back with your shirt, baring your breasts for him.
“Fuck…” he breathes out, cupping one in his hand and brushing his thumb over your nipple. You force yourself to keep your breathing steady, to let him do what he wants. “You’re so pretty, baby. Wanna drown in your pretty tits.”
“Yeah?” You ask, your voice breathy. “Who’s stopping you, then?” He looks up at you like you’re his goddess, like he’d worship you every day and every night if you’d let him.
“Really?” He hardly waits for a response before he’s shoving his face into your tits, laving at the valley between them before ultimately choosing one to focus on with his mouth. He sucks at the nipple, tugging at it between his teeth and listening to the delicate whines you let out. The other breast doesn’t go unnoticed, one of his hands palming at it and tweaking the nipple for a few minutes before he switches sides to give each of your breasts the same treatment.
You haven’t stopped grinding on him in this time, your eyelids fluttering shut while your roll your hips over Sunwoo’s. You can feel his dick twitching in his soccer shorts, can feel him fighting the urge to jerk his hips into yours.
“Sunwoo,” you choke out, tugging at the strands of his hair. It doesn’t stop him, in fact you could swear that the action makes him suck harder on your tits and your voice breaks into a moan. “Sunwoo,”
This time when you speak, you yank his head back. He whines, his neck now at an awkward angle as he tries to sink back into your chest.
“Whyyyy,” he drawls with a pout. His lips are puffy and covered in spit, similar to your chest and you already know he’s sucked marks into your skin that’ll be visible for days after this.
“Wanna fuck you, baby.” You plead. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”
His eyes roll into the back of his head at your tone, and he pushes you off of him just long enough to shove his clothing off. You do the same, noting the way your panties stick to your slick cunt. With a smirk, you discreetly tuck them into the center console while his back is still somewhat turned to you.
By the time he’s turned back around, you’ve stripped yourself of all your clothing and sunk your fingers into your core. Your eyes have fluttered shut with two fingers inside of you and your thumb rubbing circles into your clit.
“What are— what—” Sunwoo sounds like he’s going to cry, and you force your eyes open. He’s staring at your glistening folds with a look of pure hunger and you can only assume heartbreak as you finger yourself. “Why are you—”
“Gotta get myself ready for you,” you tell him with a pout. “Don’t—f-fuck— wanna make sure you fit i-inside of me.” Your back arches off the door and Sunwoo lunges for you, yanking your hand away from your pussy. The suddenness of the action makes you yelp, your eyes fly open again when Sunwoo sinks your fingers into his mouth. You can’t tell if the moan he lets out is genuine or if it’s for show, but it’s guttural and has your walls clenching around absolutely nothing. His tongue laves over your fingers, sucking them as far into his mouth as he can, getting as much of your taste off of your fingers as humanly possible before pulling them from his mouth and lowering your hand back to your side.
“That’s my job,” Sunwoo hisses, and then he’s lowering his body down so he can be level with your pussy. Two of his fingers prod at your entrance, and your hips jerk toward him against your well. He clicks his tongue when he sinks them into you. “Loosened your little cunt up a little bit already, hm? Gotta stretch you out even more though if I wanna fit inside you.”
You can only whine when he sinks a third finger into you, scissoring them inside of them and curling them into that sweet spot inside of you. The stretch begins to sting, ever so slowly ebbing away and being replaced by pure, unadulterated pleasure.
“Oh god, Sunwoo.” You gasp out, your hand wrapping around his wrist but you can’t exactly figure out why. To slow him down? To force him to go faster? “Feels so fucking good, please.” You feel a coil beginning to tighten in your stomach as his fingers punch into that spot time and time again, his thumb rubbing harsh circles into your clit similar to how you were. Fast learner.
Sunwoo grins at the way your face twists and contorts with pleasure, the way you try to control how your hips buck against his hand, the guttural moans you emit.
“Gonna cum, babe?” He knows the answer. He knows by the way you clench against him, the way your cunt tries to force his hand out.
“Yes,” you whine out, “yes, gonna c-cum. Sun-Sunwoo, please.”
“Please what, babe?” He coos. “Can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.” Just to tease you, he slows down. “Do you want me to stop?”
“NO,” you cry out, taking matters into your own hands and fucking down onto his hand. “Ple-please let me cum!”
“Ohhh, I see.” He hums and drives his fingers into you faster, harder. Your whines and whimpers have become broken little sobs. “Fuck, babe, it’s like no one’s ever made you feel like this.” He can’t help but laugh when you clench down on him again.
“G-Gonna cum, Sunwoo!” He just hums, watching as you clench down once, twice, and then your body is jerking against his hand. Your cunt tries to force him out one more time but he continues to drive into you and work you through your first orgasm of the night.
When your body has stopped shuddering, Sunwoo finally pulls his fingers out of you. He raises them up a bit, just enough for you to see the way the mix of your arousal and your cum.
“Look at all this, baby.” He holds his fingers out to you with a broad grin on his face. “Have you ever tasted yourself?” Your eyes come back to focus when he prods his fingers against your lips. You let him sink his fingers into your mouth, nearly gagging when they hit the back of your throat. “Tastes good, doesn’t it?”
You swallow around his fingers, taking in the bittersweet taste on your tongue. Sunwoo watches you with hazy eyes when you take hold of his wrist again, holding his hand close to you while your tongue swirls around his fingers. You know exactly what he’s thinking, know exactly what’s going on behind those hazy eyes of his, and have to force yourself to pull off of his fingers when you know you’ve cleaned him off completely.
“Fucking minx,” he growls and grips your hips tightly in his hands, flipping you over so you’re on your hands and knees. “Did that on purpose, didn’t you? Knew I’d think of you sucking my cock, think of you gagging on it as I fuck your pretty little face?” You don’t have a response this time, only moaning when he shoves his cock into you with one harsh thrust.
He gives you no time to adjust, gives you no time to work through the sting it brings you but you don’t mind. Not when the stretch feels so good. Not when his cock is fucking into at a pace so harsh it has your body sliding across the seats. Your arm reaches out, hand desperately trying to find purchase on something, anything to hold you steady against the roughness of his hips slapping against yours.
His hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair and yanking on it to pull you against him. Your moans become louder, harsher until they’ve turned into screams and cries of his name. You can feel the fabric of his car’s seats digging into your knees, feel the old Toyota Corolla rocking back and forth while the windows fog up with the heat of your sinful behavior.
One of Sunwoo’s legs slips down to the floor of the car, but he doesn’t slow as he adjusts his position. It gives him a new angle, new strength to fuck into you harder and faster, bruising your insides as he practically punches into your cervix from the force of his thrusts.
“How does this feel, hm?” He coos into your ear, his breathing heavy from overexhertion. “Does this feel good? Am I fucking you good, baby?”
“S-so good!” You cry out. “Fuckin’ me s’good, Sunwoo!”
“Yeah?” He bends you over again, this time hunching over your body and humping into you like a dog in heat. Your back arches into him, your body shaking with seemingly neverending pleasure. “Gonan cum f’me?” Sunwoo’s arms are all over you, pinching at your nipples, squeezing your waist, gripping your ass. His lips place firm kisses onto your spinal cord, sucking hickies into your skin that no one but him will see.
“YES!” Your voice breaks and you cum again, squeezing so tightly around his cock that he emits a moan so loud and sharp that you fear you’ve broken him.
Sunwoo pumps white hot cum into you in thick ropes that spill out while he continues to fuck you, overstimulating you both. The mixture of your cum drips down your legs and onto the fabric seats, and you pray that whoever sits back here after you doesn’t notice the white stain in the middle seat, doesn’t think to ask about this mystery stain and that Sunwoo refuses to give them an answer.
When his hips finally slow, when his dick finally softens inside of you and he slips out, you let your body sag against the seat. Sunwoo grimaces at the sight of you, dark marks littering your skin. He hopes that Soonyoung doesn’t ask questions about the way you limp into your classes the next few days. You hope he knows better by now than to question it.
“For a sophomore,” you wheeze out while you roll over. Sunwoo runs his hands up and down your thighs, smiling thoughtfully. “You sure seem to have lots of experience.”
“Never judge a book by its cover, babe.” He squeezes just above your knee, running his tongue across his lips when he sees more cum dripping out of you. You catch the fiery look in his eye and groan while you squeeze your legs shut. He groans when you use one foot to kick him back against the door opposite you.
“No,” you scold him. He looks like a kicked puppy.
“Whyyyy,” he reaches for your legs again and you push him back even more.
“I’m tired, Sunwoo.” You say but he just crawls on top of you with a mischievous grin.
“You won’t have to do anything,” he bargains. “Jus’ wanna taste you a little. That’s all!” You glare at him.
“One time.” His eyes light up and he pries your legs open again. “You get one more from me tonight, Kim Sunwoo. You hear me?”
“Mhm!” He dives straight into you, knowing that this was far from the last time he’d get you to cum in his car tonight.
“I still think that you should be thanking me,” Eric shuts the door of Sunwoo’s car with a sly grin.
“For what?” Sunwoo asks exasperatedly.
It had been less than 24 hours since Sunwoo had fucked you in his car and officially made you his after a long year and a half of pining. He was tired. His body was tired. He didn’t have the energy to deal with his best friend this early in the morning, or at all really.
“For getting you guys together! It was my idea, anyway.” Eric clicks his seatbelt into place and runs a hand through his dyed red hair. “Where are your car gummy worms?”
“Center console,” Sunwoo puts the car in drive and has barely begun to ease his foot off the brake when Eric lets a gasp so violent and loud that he slams his foot back down again. “What, what happened?” He slams the car back into park, his face going white when he sees what his best friend is dangling between two dainty fingers.
Black lace panties.
Your black lace panties.
“Sunwoo…you didn’t…” Eric chokes out with a mix of disgust and heartbreak on his face. Sunwoo rips the panties out of his best friend’s hands and shoves them into the pocket of his jeans. His face feels like it’s on fire, his heart pounding out of his chest.
“Do not ever speak of this to anybody. Ever.”
“You fucking FREAK!”
© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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definitive ranking of who in svt is mtl likely to personally lobotomize me
jeonghan - just is completely uninterested in anything i have to say and probably has performed surgery for fun before
wonwoo - does not find me funny. needs me to shut up so he can get some damn peace around here
hoshi - likes the click clack sounds that the knives make. it soothes the pink matter in his brain
woozi - literally doesn’t even ask. he does not think i’ve been responsible with the brain i have been given. also just thinks im ridiculous in general
minghao - has nimble surgeon fingers and its more of a relaxation ritual than anything else
seungkwan - thinks its a really funny bit so he posts the surgery vid to youtube
joshua - is merely intrigued by the idea
mingyu - intentionally botches it, completely rewires my nervous system, now he has to drag me by the feet everywhere. it was his plan all along.
vernon - knows he cant perform it himself but would get jihoon to do it for him
seokmin - gets dizzy not at the blood but at the scalpel. bad memories
scoups - i dont have a real reason for putting him so low other than i have to hold out hope that cheol would be infatuated with me if he knew me and would never betray me via lobotomy
dino - tears up at the idea of altering someone’s mind…so invasive…
jun - does not know what a lobotomy is plus he’s loyal
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wait is my favorite solo song from seventeen
#it matches my music taste very well#u can tell dino is an r&b boy through n through#very r&b coded pining in that song#ro's.chats
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10:18pm | hansol vernon chwe
SYNOPSIS. in which it's late at night and your boyfriend is walking you home.
PAIRING. hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader
GENRE. fluff, established relationship
WARNINGS. one kiss, terms of endearment (babe)
WORD COUNT. 962
notes: inspired from a tiktok i found but can't find anymore since i like too much shit lmao </3 but u might know what i'm referring to
"Nonie?"
...
"Vernon? Babe?"
...
"Hansol Vernon Chwe!"
"Huh? Yeah?" Vernon finally diverts his attention back to you, right after you lightly swatted at his arm. He takes out his earphones and peers in your direction, watching the way the gentle breeze in the air flies through your strands of hair and the way the dim, overhead streetlight accentuates the small pout to your face.
Your pout gives way to his attentive gaze at you, his eyes softening as he focuses on you completely.
"You were completely zoned out," You tease, voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that's settled between you two at this hour. It isn't new where the two of you find yourselves trailing within the neighbourhood at night, especially since Vernon always insists on walking you home safe and soundly.
Vernon grins, his lips curling up in that familiar way that makes your heart skip a beat. "Sorry, just got lost in the music for a bit." He gestures to the phone in his hand, still softly playing the melody that had captured his attention.
You roll your eyes playfully. "Well, you missed the question I was trying to ask you."
Vernon's expression turns curious as he tilts his head slightly, adjusting his beanie. "What was it?"
He swears there's an almost-mischevious glint to your eyes that he pinpoints, or perhaps it was just the streetlight above that illuminated your face in a particular way. He purses his lips together with a patient look, waiting for you to ask the question you had been seemingly trying to ask him for the past few minutes.
"Do you think we're together in other universes too?"
Immediately, he feel his brows furrow together. Out of all questions, that question caught him by surprise, and he certainly wasn't prepared for it either. Vernon takes a moment to think, his gaze wandering briefly away and down the empty, quiet street you both are walking down together.
There's a faint smile to his face though𑁋he likes to think that yeah, in some way shape or form, you both are intertwined together too. He really likes that thought, to be honest. It's probably definitely entertained his mind a plentiful amount before, but it isn't until you mentioned it that it finally emerges out from deep within his thoughts. And knowing you're having those same kinds of thoughts makes his head spin.
"Like... you know those two cats that we sometimes pass by while walking?" You ask, kicking a branch down the pavement. "Maybe they're us, you know? Then in another universe, those cats are humans or aliens and we are the ones that they pass by."
And then your eyes glow even brighter before Vernon could even respond.
"Maybe! Maybe in a different universe... we're actually two rocks and we've been together for millions of years, slowly eroding side by side, getting rained and stepped on, but always touching in some way." Your thoughts are exploding with possibilities at this point, and Vernon takes it as an opportunity to admire the way your eyes seem to glisten as well, taking in every single one of your words amusedly. "Or maybe we're two trees who have grown together, and our branches are touching."
This makes Vernon direct his attention down to your hand, which is just inches away and barely grazing against his own, swinging slightly as you walk. Slowly, he takes your hand into his, and at first you don't seem to notice, but your fingers naturally lace together either way. It really gets his mind thinking about all the times he's thought about how your hands fit together almost too perfectly.
Maybe, in other universes, you both are meant to be connected in some way.
"You're really cute, you know that?" Vernon comments after you've ceased your rambling.
"That's what you're going to say after I've finally emptied out my brain? Confessed my undying love for you?" You huff annoyedly, but you don't let go of his hand, instead only tightening your grip on it.
"Well, I know that if you were a rock, you'd be a pretty one, like one of those you'd want to pick up as a lucky charm," he states. "and if you were a cat, you'd be these awfully clingy ones."
You gasp dramatically. "I am not clingy!"
Vernon just chuckles, bringing your interlocked hands up to eye level. "You're squeezing my hand really hard right now."
"That's because you're annoying," You quip, though your grip on his hand barely relents𑁋just enough to make sure you weren't stopping the blood flow through his arm. After a few moments of silence, your eyes catching sight on your house ahead, you bring yourself closer to him, knocking your shoulders together. "But... do you think we're together in other universes too?"
He doesn't give you an answer right away, only waiting until you open the front door to your house for him to land a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. It catches you off-guard, somehow leaving you utterly breathless even after you bid your goodnight, I love yous to each other, but it's enough to answer your question.
He hopes it does anyway. If it doesn't (or if it does, yet you're in need of constant reassurance), he wouldn't mind answering yes in other ways too.
Your lips still tingle with the feeling of his kiss as you close the door, a giddy smile playing on your face.
When Vernon walks back to his own home, he catches sight of the two cats you mentioned before watching him with their bright, curious eyes. One of the cats starts clawing at the other, pressing its body against the other playfully, much like the way you pressed your shoulder against his earlier.
A soft chuckle escapes his lips.
Yeah, he says to himself. Maybe those cats are us.
taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1
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