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enha-cafe · 5 months

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I <3 NERDS (c.s)

PAIRING: nerd! soobin x afab! reader SUMMARY: just y/n not expecting nerd! soobin to be a sex god inspired by this very long thought with @gyuthmics WARNINGS: smut, basically no plot, afab! reader, switch! reader, dom! soobin, big dick! soobin, oral (m rec.), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie (please it's soobin i can't not include it), usage of the words "slut", "baby", "good girl", snowballing, literally like one spank WORD COUNT: 1.7k

you thought playing around with the cute little nerd in your class would be funny. he was absolutely harmless, you thought, blushing whenever you made eye contact with him and always watching anime in the back of class. all you wanted was to make him your partner for the project and watch him get flustered at every moment. so now you're left wondering: is this really happening? are you really getting the best dick of your life from some guy who has openly said his favorite anime is bunny girl senpai? how did he manage to have you crying and screaming his name?

you remember how his cheeks and ears reddened when you invited him over to your place to "work on the project," when you just wanted to see how long it'd take before he'd beg for your pussy.

oh, how you've missed having someone to play with. you wore a low-cut tank and shorts, leaving little to the imagination. gently patting the spot on your bed, inviting him to sit beside you. relishing the way he stutters each time he looks to talk to you. constantly looking up at him with doe eyes, brushing your shoulder against his, and pushing your breasts into his arms. how badly you're just waiting for him to snap. look at you through those overgrown bangs and grovel for you to give him a sweet release.

he did break, just not in the way you were hoping.

it was a swift motion, with soobin taking you by the wrists and pinning you down. "well, someone is acting like a little slut today." never would you have thought this absolute nerd would have you at such a loss for words. those words make you have to take a pause and leave your mouth slightly agape. "what's wrong? cat got your tongue?" he says this, cocking his head to the side and chuckling.

you're completely lost as to who the man in front of you is; this isn't the nerd you were toying with all day. this is some sort of demon you decided to summon. "c'mon, baby, use your words. i know you want this; you've been messing with me all day. don't back out now." he says, staring into your eyes, and all you can do is let out a broken please. "that's what i like to hear," he says right before planting a kiss on your lips.

you're needy for him, and soobin can't help but chuckle. the way you try to grind down on his knee between your legs, he thinks it's cute how you're slowly becoming putty in his hands. he wants to—no, he needs to ruin you. he's having to hold himself back, and you can tell. for now, he's content with just the taste of you. moving his lips from yours to your neck, you can't help but let out a moan and squirm more. "you're absolutely insatiable; tell me what you want." you're not sure how, but he's already managed to make your head dizzy. "i need you—i need you inside me, please, soobin." you can feel him smile into your neck as you plead. "of course, baby, but i need something from you first." he says letting your wrists free and using his other hand to unbutton his jeans. "get on your knees and suck my cock like the slut you are."

you feel like a woman possessed by how quickly you get on your knees for him. staring up at him in anticipation and hoping he won't notice as you rub your thighs together. when he pulls his pants down, it almost hits you in the face, and you can't help but stare. he's huge. "soobin, you're going to break me." he nearly throws his head back and laughs, "i thought sluts like you were supposed to like big cocks. c'mon, don't be shy now. suck." his order sends a jolt of electricity down to your core.

opening your mouth, you try to take as much of him as possible, and what you can't, you wrap your hands around. bobbing your head up and down his cock, your eyes never leave him. the way his breathing becomes gradually more labored as he groans. his eyes are hungry as he looks at you. "good girl, i knew you could take me," he tells you, and you can feel your walls clench around nothing, and you can't help but moan around him. it's enough to make him curse and grab the back of your head. you can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as he pushes your head down. feeling his head hit the back of your throat and his cock twitch. you barely have a second before you feel hot cum spill down your throat.

soobin pulls you off his cock and places a hand under your chin. forcing you to stare up at him through those thick-rimmed glasses and overgrown fringe. he pulls you up to him and forces his lips on yours. swapping his cum between you before you finally decide to swallow it. "you're nasty," he says before giving you a light spank, making you let out a yelp. he grabs you by the hand and guides you back to the bed.

his eyes are blown with lust, and suddenly your clothes feel too hot for your skin. you're telling him to pull off your shorts as you tear your top off, and you're left in only your underwear. soobin is quick to start marking and playing with your breasts, telling you how perfect they are. feeling his right hand on your clothed core, you can't help but grind against it. he notices the way you grind on his hand and moves your panties to the side. watching how drenched you are, he decides to dip two of his long fingers inside you, and it has you reeling.

feeling his fingers inside your gummy walls is enough to have you screaming for him. he reaches places your pathetic fingers could never reach. he's so mean and fast with them too; the noises made by them are so lewd, you'd be embarrassed if you weren't enjoying it so much. you think you can't get enough of his fingers until he uses his thumb to circle your clit. the stimulation is so great that he has you chanting his name. his name is dripping like honey from your lips as you try your hardest not to cum. soobin knows you're close; how couldn't he? with your walls fluttering against his fingers and your thighs trembling. "it's okay, baby, you can let go for me," and it's almost as though that was the final piece of a puzzle. you're suddenly seeing stars, and your walls are convulsing around him as you cum.

"is that all you can take, or do you want more?" he asks you as if he doesn't already know your answer. without a second thought, you're screaming once more for him, "please, soobin, i need you inside of me—going insane—need your big cock inside me." you're so needy and desperate for him, it's borderline pathetic. "okay, let me just grab a condom," he says, going to get up, but you grab his arm, pulling him back in to stop him. "no, i need you raw." such a simple sentence, but it's enough to make his cock twitch. "you really are insatiable," and his lips dive back into yours.

as you kiss, you can feel him lining himself up with you, his large cockhead teasing your opening. moaning into the kiss and telling him to put it in already, only making him smile against your lips. when he slips into you, you swear you see heaven. the stretch like nothing you've ever felt before; he's so big, and he's already hitting you so deep. when he bottoms out, you're already grinding against him, begging him to move. soobin is more than happy to oblige, digging his fingers into your hips and slowly pulling out of you, only to ram back in.

you think he'd be rough with just that one thrust, but he continues to be hard and fast. as he thrusts his cock inside of you, you can't help but stare. he makes your head fuzzy, and all you can do is lay there and moan. feeling him lay his hand over your stomach and press down has you clenching around him, making him twitch deep inside you. "god, you're so tight, and you take me so well, like you were made for me," he says. all you can do is moan at his praises, making you teeter closer to the edge.

his groans sound like heaven, his glasses are foggy, and his fringe slightly hangs over them. you don't think you've ever seen anyone look hotter. you don't realize how long you've been staring until he says something like, "see something you like?" and in that moment, you realize you're drunk on him, and you don't ever want to get sober. he chuckles and gives you a smirk right before playing with your clit again. "i can feel the way you're clenching down on me; I know you're close." he's acting almost as if he isn't close, too. "please, soobin, i need to cum—need you to fill me up too, please, soobin." you punctuate your words by wrapping your legs around his waist.

his thrusts become sloppier, and his head falls into the crook of your neck. feeling his hot breath as he curses. "cum for me, y/n" it's not a request but an order. your legs tighten around him as you cum, locking him in as you let out loud moans while your body is wracked with pleasure. you barely get a second to recover before soobin's hot cum floods your insides. there's so much, and you don't think you've ever felt fuller than you do in this moment. after he slips out, you can feel his cum starting to dribble out of your hole.

your head is fuzzy, and you're barely coherent when soobin tells you he's going to grab something to clean you up. however, even with the burn in your legs, gasping for air, and cum spilling from your hole. you can't help but think there's no way this absolute sex god of a man is a damn nerd.

but god, you love nerds.

perma tag list: @hoonslutt @moonlighthoon @love4heejayke @jouliejihan @majestyjun @yizhoutv

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #choi soobin smut #soobin smut #soobin hard hours #soobin hard thoughts #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt drabbles #txt reactions #soobin imagines #choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader

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kiss-me-muchoo · 10 months

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𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲? || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one || part two: Suddenly, we have a baby || part three: Dharma

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲- what was supposed to be a date between you and Miguel, ends up being a night to babysit Mayday. Was it enough to unleash a baby fever? 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- nah, just fluff. clingy!reader x grumpy!Miguel + cute!Mayday, implied age gap (legal) and implied short reader (I’m 5’2, this man can ruin me), implied sex and baby talks. NO PROOFREAD!!. 𝐀/𝐍_PLEASE, listen lover and false God along this!!!!

♪ ♫ my miguel playlist. ✰ index (masterlist/ other works there)

______________

Irritant and cute giggles.

That’s all Miguel keeps hearing. He’s fixated on the screens of his office. At some point, he checks to see how his new white and red suit is doing.

But every damn time, he gets distracted by some giggles.

Until the giggles turn into strong waves of laughter, he turns, visibly annoyed.

Peter is holding Mayday, and you are seated across them and erupting into laughter once Mayday imitates some growling sounds from you and Peter.

Okay, the sight looked and sounded adorable. Mainly because it was you making the baby laugh and make funny sounds. But Miguel had work to do…

“Hey!. You three, out. You’re annoying me,” Miguel spits out. Peter, Mayday, and you turn to see the man.

“Someone’s being grumpy…” Miguel sees you exchange mocking looks with the little girl. And Peter is only there existing.

Then you stand up, and with a little jump, you’re on his floating station/desk, whatever.

He feels you tickle his rib, so he looks down on you.

You are telling him to lean down a little. So he does.

You stand on your tiptoes and smash his cheek with a kiss.

“See you at home?” You ask.

Peter nor Mayday can’t see it, but Miguel has a hand on the small of your back; his way of saying I love you, be safe. Because he couldn’t be utterly soft around the workplace.

“Say bye to the bitter man, Mayday,” you say, taking the baby from Peter’s arms.

The three of you started leaving with another long wave of laugh and chuckles.

Of course a pain in the ass for Miguel.

…

Later that day, a mission was successfully accomplished. Miguel had gone to a different one with Jessica, Lyla, lego Spider-man, and Spider-cat (his low-key favorite interns).

On the other hand, he was impatiently waiting for you to come back and go home together. He was in the mood to spend some time at your place.

It was your grandparent's house, and it was beyond cozy. Miguel had to admit that living on futuristic Earth was excellent. Still, even when your home could be considered as yesteryear, it was better.

However, he could not see the time to leave because he couldn’t find you anywhere.

He even started to worry something had happened.

Hobie, Gwen, Miles, Peter, and Mayday weren’t Miguel's best options for missions. But… they were your family.

“Why the pout?” Suddenly, Jess appeared at his side. Miguel ignored her and kept walking through the long hallway. Some spider people greeted him and Jess, she made brief conversations, and Miguel only sent them nods.

“I’m not pouting…” he answered finally.

“You are.”

“No.” Jess chuckled, rubbing her giant belly.

Miguel gave her a quick glance. Realizing that her coworker was heavily pregnant. It had been some rough months, especially after the events that Miles brought to everyone in the HQ. So for Jess, it must’ve been worse.

“Have you seen y/n?” He asked.

“She’s been here for some hours now. She contained the anomaly with Peter and the others” Then where the hell were you?

Suddenly, a loud noise came from the cafeteria.

Miguel and Jess exchanged some looks before walking all over the hallways that would lead them to the cafeteria.

The scene was… interesting.

Hobie was driving the spider-car, you on the passenger seat with Mayday in your arms and spider-plushie on your shoulder.

In the backseat, Miles and Gwen were laughing and looking back.

And chasing the car, Peter B. Parker tries to catch everyone with a poor running pace.

Miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t complain. You married a younger woman…” said Jess laughing at the sight.

Soon, the car disappeared through another hallway, with Peter screaming to stop the vehicle.

“I’m not complaining. But-“ he wouldn’t say it out loud, but Miguel loved you just like you were. He wouldn’t change anything for you.

“I’m not gonna be here soon. You gotta be conscious that you’ll deal with them all alone.”

“I know…” you had a mature side that Miguel enjoyed regarding safety, health, and serious decisions. But he also loved that you remained optimistic most of the time.

And he couldn’t blame you. Back home, you had few real friends, only two girlfriends, and your family.

Both girls were shocked to learn that you were engaged less than half a decade after high school. But they were so supportive, and they accepted Miguel. Same story for your family.

Then spending time with his least favorite coworkers made you happy. So Miguel could handle the annoying moments. Just for you…

“Tell me if I’m trespassing. But… What do you do together? It’s still unbelievable that you two are married.” Miguel gives her a stern look. He doesn’t like to discuss his private (nor public) life with you, but somehow Jess wasn’t a burden of questions like Peter or Miles and Gwen.

“She likes cooking, so we either go to restaurants or cook together. Then she likes spending hours at this giant library near her place,” Jess smiles. Knowing how much you liked spending time between pages and pages.

“So you’re a pleaser. Interesting…”

“Jess…” Miguel warned her. Jessica laughed harder, giving up.

“Okay, okay, sorry. It’s just that… she seems like… the opposite of you. But it also seems like it works well.”

“It does,” he accepts, allowing himself to smile very little.

“Are you taking her on a date this weekend?”

“We haven’t been on a date since… two months?” okay, that sounded terrible for a year and a half marriage.

“Dude…” her tone indicated that it was a catastrophic event, that you and Miguel hadn’t been on a date for so long.

“What? We’re both busy. I’m in charge here; she has work to do here and college stuff. “ it wasn’t that bad. You always made time to make a decent dinner, watch movies, listen to music, and cuddle before sleeping. Miguel couldn’t complain.

“So?” Miguel knew what Jess was about to add. She would say you two didn’t have a child to care about.

And it made him question it. Did he ever see himself being a father again? No.

Would he love to see you pregnant and taking care of a baby? Yes

Would he be able to leave his trauma behind just to be happy again if you asked for a baby?… Maybe.

“I’ll just say it’s a good weekend to spend time together again. Not worrying about work is…Is a relaxed Friday.” she was right.

Maybe Miguel would take her word.

But first, he had to find you.

…

“Would you like to have a date?” His question popped in a way that made you feel like he was asking for the first time again.

You smile brightly, looking up at him with a slight arch on your brow.

“Yeah. I would love that,” he sighs, relieved.

“Your place. It’s better….” you knew he preferred your house. So you would not complain.

“Sure. Then let me clean today, okay?” He nodded.

Unexpectedly you hug him. Your head barely brushed his chest. And since nobody was around, Miguel hugged you back. His hands caress your head softly, touching your hair.

“I love you so much,” you admit with your eyes closed. He knows it’s obvious. Nobody would’ve stood him for so long, even before marriage.

“Me too, bonita,” he replies calmly.

There’s a characteristic pull you do in his rib every time you ask for a kiss.

So he leans again, but there’s time for a long deep kiss this time.

It’s impossible to not miss your body too.

Memories that shouldn’t appear, assault him at that moment.

Honestly, he can’t wait to have you the next night. You never deny him a good time in bed. And Miguel can’t help but be surprised that a small body like yours has long-lasting stamina.

Except when the weather it’s too hot and your low blood pressure can’t take it.

Other than that, you were so determined to take him and endure anything he decided to give you.

Another big reason to love you.

He’s still kissing you. And he can sense how your body temperature increases. He doesn’t have spider sense but swears he can hear your throbs and pulses around nothing.

A cold shower, that’s what he’s gonna need.

“So.. See you tomorrow, amor.” You say one last time. He lets you go and can’t wait for the next day.

Yeah, even when he sees you every day, no matter what.

Because he’s beyond in love with you.

…

As you walk towards your little office, you encounter Peter and Mayday.

“Hey!. You two are still here,” they turned, giving you a big smile.

“Yeah, Mayday can’t leave without a warm bottle of milk from here” You wondered what could make the milk from the HQ something special for Mayday. Maybe it was the mascarpone flavor….

“I want to leave early because this girl needs a bath before tomorrow….” you frown, confused. There’s a lot of trust and a great friendship with the man, even when he is older than Miguel and you. And as much as your husband liked to remark that Peter wasn’t a friend, the truth was obvious.

“What’s gonna happen tomorrow?…”

“I’m having a date with MJ, and we hope her mother can take care of Mayday. Cause if she can’t… maybe we won’t be able to- “

“Miguel and I can take care of her…” you suggest immediately.

“Really? That would be great. But… What about…?”

“Miguel? You know him…He secretly likes Mayday,” you respond.

But then you remember you were supposed to have a date with your husband. You haven’t had an entire day with him outside of work. And he hadn’t fucked you since two weeks ago.

But Mayday couldn’t be such a bother…Right? Like, look at that cute face and baby carrot hairs.

“Well, in that case…Do I bring her?” You nod, completely forgetting about Miguel and what could be his reaction.

“Sure. You know my place, right?” Peter had been there several times before you and Miguel got married.

“Yeah. So… at 7:00 pm? I would pick her up before midnight.”

“It’s fine. Right, baby?” Mayday giggles and keeps drinking from her little bottle.

“Alright then… see you tomorrow” You wave goodbye to the duo and go home.

It won’t be that bad.

____

Miguel opens the door of your house, and the first thing he hears is soft music playing.

My heart's been borrowed, and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my… LOVER!!!!.

You are singing between giggles and pauses.

Okay, he knows the song. He knows you dedicate that whole album to him every time you play it.

And when he enters the kitchen, he wants to pinch his arm to confirm he’s not dreaming.

You are cooking something on the little island: a baby pink dress, red cardigan, hair in a braid.

One hand is stirring something, and the other is… carrying Mayday?

“Oh. Hey, babe!” You greet him, running to give him a peck on the lips.

“Uh…What’s going on?” He asks, pointing at the baby in your arm.

“We’re babysitting her!” Mayday is super concentrated on a piece of watermelon you gave her, chewing and making a mess of her onesie.

“This was supposed to be a date…” he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. But he was expecting some time alone with his wife.

“It is… Peter will pick her up before midnight. We never go to sleep before 2:00am, amor.”

“Great. I have to deal with Peter even on my free day,” you laugh at his exaggerated reaction.

“Oh, don’t be like that. Mayday is a burst of sunshine; she will not trouble us.” When Miguel turns back to see you, the baby is gone from your arms. She’s climbing your kitchen drawers. Your husband instantly panics when he sees Mayday could fall into the boiling water at any moment.

“You have to look after her,” he says to you, eyes switching from you to the baby.

“I’m looking at her…”

“No. You’re looking at the recipe for…mushroom soup?” Mayday trembles, and Miguel runs to basically catch her. But you make a movement that shoots out two webs, making a little swing for her. She coos and laughs happily.

“See? I got her….” you say proudly.

Miguel had to accept you were good at taking care of kids. Making him question it further if he was ready to pop in the question; Do you want a baby?

“Could you two pick a movie? I left some options on the couch” Miguel looks at Mayday, who seems to understand that you need something from her, so stretches her arms to Miguel, asking him to pick her up.

“She’s asking you to lift her, babe.”

He rolls his eyes, and with a grumpy attitude, he picks Mayday in his arms.

You take a mental screenshot of the image. And your baby's fever escalates even more. Only that you swore to not bring up the issue. Because you weren’t ready to find out if Miguel was prepared to try for a baby again.

Miguel and Mayday, they both look at the pair of movies you have out.

All are for kids, but he can easily look at any of those because he would be with you.

And probably would not pay attention.

“Which one do you want?” He asks the girl. She looks at the movies again and points at the pirates and fairies one.

“Good choice,” your husband lets out. Mayday only giggles.

…

Well, Miguel couldn’t sit next to you.

Because Mayday was in the middle. You made her some tofu nuggets with vegetables because you were an almond babysitter. Also cause Peter said Mayday needed to eat more greens.

She happily looked at the movie while she had the plate before her.

Then you and Miguel had mushroom soup with warm bread and salad.

He never failed to flatter your food; never.

You can feel he’s praying for Mayday to fall asleep.

He has some big fuck me eyes, actually begging.

You can’t help but smile and giggle as he rolls his eyes.

For another twenty minutes, the movie continues. But soon, Mayday climbs Miguel and starts resting on his chest, and no more than a minute later, she’s fast asleep.

Both of you are in shock. He doesn’t even know where to place his hands.

Until you stand to place his hands in the right place, one on her head and the other on her back.

Miguel looks astronomically big with the baby in his arms. And once again, you look with a giant pair of heart eyes.

Your head is screaming; give me a baby, please!!!!!!

However, you and Miguel only stare at each other, probably thinking and wanting to say the same.

“I’ll put her on your bed” You nod, thanking him as his broad figure disappears from the living room.

You take the dishes to the kitchen and clean them.

There’s a long pause after drying your hands with a flower towel. You stare vaguely at your window, looking through the flowers Miguel gave you when he arrived.

You can’t ask him, but you want so badly. He’s your husband, your lover. You should be able to ask him, cause you to talk with him about everything and anything.

When you go back to the living room, Miguel is there. The tv is off, and the whole room is in complete darkness except for your window. Which led some light to enter through the curtains.

You look at him; he’s seated on the couch.

Your mouth opens and closes. Because you can’t find the words.

“Do you want a baby?” He asks. It’s sudden, unexpected, and shocking.

“I-…” You are frozen. His eyes had never been so intimidating. Yet, the love you feel when you come closer to sit beside him is more immense.

“I do, but-“Then you think about him. His past, trauma, and sequels he could have.

“I think I’m ready to move forward,” he can make you feel shocked again.

He’s making an effort… Why ruin it?

“You are?…” you ask, taking his hand. He caressed your knuckles, softening the moment.

“Yes. Since some months ago… I’ve seen you the kid, and I want that,” he leans into your touch. The way you caress his cheeks invites him to stay there forever.

“So…Wanna try?” You’ve never been on the pill or anything; just pure luck. Maybe it turned out for the best.

“Yes…” somehow the moment is awkward. But in a cute way because neither of you knows where to start.

“Is the kid completely asleep?” you chuckle on his lips. So you’re trying earlier…

“Completely passed out. Don’t worry, amor. I’ll be quiet” he spreads his big thighs when you straddle him on the couch. Your weight is incredibly relaxing for him, so he cherishes every moment.

“Bonita…You’re never quiet” his comment makes you blush. Miguel loved the power he had to make you feel like a teenager in love yet. And it wasn’t because of the age gap. It was simply the way you were.

“Yes, I’ll be. Promise…”

You weren’t quiet. But at least Mayday snored.

—

Peter is greeted by a sweaty Miguel, and you are all disheveled. His face turns into a grin, a disgusted one. He doesn’t even say hi to Miguel; he just steps into your house.

“You two had-“

“NO!” You deny it immediately, drinking a water bottle, ignoring your friend’s judgmental gaze.

“Yes,” Miguel admits with his usual stoic presence.

“MAN..why?” Peter asks in disbelief. Your blush can’t help but increase until you look like a swollen tomato.

“Guess my baby set the alarms of a baby fever…huh?” Even Miguel wants to laugh but does his best to stand still.

“Yeah, okay. Maybe…” you admit laughing nervously.

Miguel disappears to bring the baby, leaving you and Peter alone.

“So, how was the date?”

“So… How was the tango session?” He starts laughing.

“PETER!” You nudge his arm, joining his chuckles.

“Nah, the date was amazing. Oh, how much I love my wife,” he hears your prolonged aww. Then Miguel appears with a happy Mayday again.

“You woke her?” Peter asks, taking his daughter.

“No. She was awake already.” Your husband replies.

“You know? You two will be good at this” You can’t help but smile widely. You hug your friend quickly before saying bye to Mayday, and a second later…It’s just you and him again.

“This turned… good,” Miguel admits.

“He’s right?”

“What?”

“Peter. He’s right; we’ll be good at this” Finally, you see him smile. A genuine smile that is only reserved for you.

“Promise me that we’ll be careful. That we are going to try so hard to keep it going?” He pleads suddenly. Looking down at you with a slight pout.

“Oh, Miguel. I can’t assure you everything will be perfect. But I’ll do my best for us and upcoming additions. I promise,” he nods, pressing his forehead against you.

And again, it’s all kisses and slow heavy breathings.

“I wanna keep trying….” you reveal between kisses. He smiles; you can feel it. No matter what, he would always have you, but… he would try for that baby.

“I think we’re gonna stay up past bedtime,” you giggle, stretching again to feel his warm lips.

Impatient to feel them all across your body.

But little did you know, you had already been hosting a baby for the past three months.

______________

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #atsv x reader #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #accross the spiderverse

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sungbeam · 7 days

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𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

nonidol!kang yeosang x f!reader

yeosang doesn't remember your name, but he remembers what kissing you tastes like and how you like your eggs in the morning. just your regular prince charming trying to find his cinderella, or in this case, his passenger princess..?

9.5k (lord.....), nc-17, s2l, frateez au, college au, mentions of alcohol, swearing, kissing, humor, fluff, minimal angst, another cinderella story au/trope(?), drama (i bring i bring all the drama-ma-ma-ma), a girl who is not a girl's girl :l, the barest of proofreading

a/n: this is for the @atzhouse you can't outrage us event! guys if the flirting is lackluster, it's cuz im running out of rizz

“I don't believe you.”—

The last place you expected to end up was in the front seat of some guy's white Lexus while the party raged on inside the ATZ fraternity house just down the street. According to him, he had to run out just before the crowd rolled in, and when he got back, somebody had snatched his parking spot.

—“Okay, but why don't you believe me?”—

The car smelled not like fresh leather, but an enchanting mixture of something like pine and smoked wood. Bitter, yet somehow, refreshing. You bet, even as the alcohol was hitting you, that it was what he smelled like.

His name was Yeosang—the guy sitting next to you in the driver's seat, the owner of this car, and the ATZ fraternity brother you bumped into at his house's own party. That had been just about twenty minutes ago when you'd ended up isolated from your pack of friends, and Yeosang had needed a desperate breather. It seemed he'd been running from someone (question mark), so you asked if he knew where the kitchen was. Eager to get away from whoever it was, he guided you straight to the kitchen and where the secret stash of flavored sojus were.

An offhand comment about wishing you didn't have to miss this one drama episode dropping tonight led to a longer conversation about the dramas you both enjoyed, which somehow landed you in his passenger seat.

The rest was history. Or—you supposed the rest was now.

“Because,” Yeosang said in a tone that sounded a lot like he was saying 'duh’, “you don't look like a biology major.”

He was gorgeous, even if the lighting in the party and out here was jack shit. The way the shadows cut across his face made him look like a faerie torn straight out of one of your old sketchbooks. You were half certain he had pointed ears beneath the cat-eared beanie he wore, but maybe that was just the alcohol doing its thing.

You sputtered out a laugh as he knocked back another gulp of his melon soju. He was more drunk than you were, maybe not by too much because that wouldn't have been fair, but it did take him seven tries to unlock his car seven minutes ago. “What's a bio major s'posed to look like?”

“Mmm…” he hummed, lips pressed together in a line that dug into his cheeks. “Not you.”

It only made you laugh harder. It wasn't even that funny. “That doesn't even make sense!”

“Does it have to make sense?” He squawked. His face shuddered for a moment as if he just experienced a glitch. “I forgot what I was gonna say, but it's the vibe.”

“The vibe,” you parroted in mild amusement. After you swallowed down your next gulp of soju, you gestured to him with the bottle, “Okay, now what about you? Your major, go.”

“I read shit.”

“Who doesn't?”

“Jared, 19,” he replied, dead serious.

Equally serious, you asked with wide eyes, “Really?”

He gave you an emphatic nod back. Really. Now, if you were a little less tipsy, you wouldn't have taken what he said at face value, but tonight was already miles away from your regularly scheduled program.

You pondered on that—the “I read shit,” not the misfortunes of one nineteen year old named Jared. “So if you read a lot of shit, does that make you a literature major? No, wait! I got it; you look like Comparative Lit.”

“Bingo,” he cheered, raising his bottle up into the air. “Wait. What do you mean I look like a comparative lit major? What does a comp lit major even look like?”

“I dunno, but it’s you.”

He pursed his lips into a deadpan at your callback to what he'd said before, and you merely stuck your tongue out at him like the mature adult you were. “Touché, my friend. Touché…”

Silence passed between you two for the first time since you met each other. In the distance, you could hear the muffled sounds of the party raging on. It wasn't that you didn't go to parties often; it was more so that you usually went to house parties hosted by friends or friends-of-a-friend. Making it all the way to Greek Row was not something you did every weekend, but a mutual friend—Chungha—knew the ATZ president and got you and your friends in.

Nearly finished with his third bottle (or was it his fourth?...), Yeosang knocked the remainder down his throat with a grimace. With the empty bottle, he set it at his feet on the car floor to join another—the cup holders were already occupied with yours and his second rounds. The first was abandoned on the frat house lawn somewhere.

“I think—” he slurred, blinking slowly at you like a cat, “—that you look like an artist.”

“An artist?” You parroted dumbly and felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “And why would you say that? Vibes?”

“Well, yes!”

You sputtered out a laugh at the way he said that. “Then yes, I am an artist,” you said, emphasizing the latter half of the word so it sounded like “teest” and not “tist.”

Yeosang gave a hoot. “I'm so good at this. Does that—does that mean you can paint me like one of your French girls?” He pulled his lips into an adorable, little smile, the back of his hand poised beneath his chin as he fluttered his lashes.

“I don't think I could do you justice,” you admitted. There was a rather annoying buzz at the back of your brain that was distracting you. With a shake of your head, you refocused your gaze on him. “You're too pretty.”

He preened at the compliment, unconsciously reaching up to adjust his beanie. “Like calls to like then.”

“What does that mean?” Your buzzed-out brain couldn't compute—

“It means that prettiness is attracted to prettiness, and I'm attracted to you.”

You whined, burying your face in your hands. Yeosang giggled to himself, incredibly proud at making you flustered, his knees curling upward to kick his feet in the cramped space. “I don't like you.”

“You don't?”

“No,” you raised your head up with a displeased frown, only to see that his eyes seemed to be twinkling with unrestrained happiness and something else. You weren't in the right state to hyper-analyze the way he looked at you, but it made your heart skip more than just a beat. “It's not fair that you're a literature major.”

“But I'm drunk,” he said innocently.

“That's even worse!”

He grinned boyishly at you, bashfully stretching his limbs and then cupping the back of his neck with a hand. “What if I told you I'm minoring in math?”

You deadpanned. “I don't think that makes me feel any better. You rule both the realms of words and numbers.”

“It doesn't mean I'm good at math,” he guffawed, leaning back in his seat. “It's only there 'cause my mom's a math teacher, and having a math minor makes my parents feel better.”

That sounded familiar… awfully familiar. The thought made you sober a bit, and it seemed your counterpart wasn't so wasted that he didn't notice the shift either.

“Uh oh,” he chuckled nervously, “what'd I say?”

You waved your hand around dismissively. “Oh, it's nothing. I'm kind of the opposite—my bio major is sort of to appease my parents and the fine art minor is for my sanity.”

He pressed his lips into a line, nodding in understanding. “Ah, I see,” he drawled. “So you don't… you're not happy? With what you're doing, I mean.”

Maybe it was the way he asked it, but it made the cogs in your head turn. You bit your lip. “I'm happy-ish. It's kind of a lot, but I'll survive.”

“'m sorry I upset you,” he pouted. “But,” he stammered, swallowing, “but I get it. My parents never wanna talk about my major anymore. Pretty sure they're just bitter and disappointed. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells around them.”

You could tell that it affected him more than he wanted to admit. You wordlessly passed him your half-drunk bottle, and he gladly took a generous sip. When it was back in your hands, you guzzled down the remainder.

The buzz was getting better.

“Well, if they're not proud of you, I am,” you declared, setting the empty bottle at your feet. Your eyes blinked slowly for a moment as you got your bearings again. Maybe… maybe you should stop drinking! Yes, that would be the smart thing to do.

Yeosang hummed. “Thanks,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gazed over at you from his side of the car. “I'm proud of you, too. You'll be happy one day; it'll always turn out okay, Yn-ie.”

Something warm and fuzzy settled in your chest, like a cat had just curled up there, purring and content.

A thought suddenly popped into your head. “Yeosang, how do you like your eggs?”

He snorted and burst into laughter, coaxing a similar expression out of you. A moment later, you were trying your best to pout at him, “Hey! Don't laugh! I hear it's all the rage on the pick-up line scene.”

“You're trying to pick me up?” He giggled. All memories of the previous topic flew out the car window.

“Well, is it working?”

He licked his lips around a smile, leaning over the center console to rest his cheek against his fist. “Ask me again.”

You took another sip of your soju before returning it to its cupholder. “Okay. Yeosang, how do you like your eggs in the morning?”

“However you'd like them.”

You deadpanned, and that only made him laugh louder. His head tilted back so you caught a glimpse of his canines, before he brought himself back down to Earth. His cheeks looked as flushed as you felt—even in the dim streetlight you could make out the blooms of peony pink across his cheekbones. “Yeo.”

He reached over to pat your head a couple times, though the sloppiness of his movements made it feel closer to two affectionate smacks. “Okay okay. Sorry. How about we say it at the same time?”

“Okay.” That wasn't a bad compromise.

“Okay, one, two, three—”

“Sunny-side up,” you both said at once.

Your eyes and his eyes widened at once, gasps of delight sounding into the quiet car. Could this guy be any more perfect?

“You're not bluffing?” You asked with narrowed eyes.

Yeosang shook his head vigorously. “Mm-mm. I wouldn't lie to you, Yn-ie. Scout's honor,” he slurred, holding his hand up as if he was a boy scout.

You giggled at the gesture, and he broke form to melt into an ooey gooey puddle of liquefied butterflies. For a moment, he just stared at you with a strange look on his face, one that you couldn't quite place when you were in this inebriated state.

You chuckled, shifting your position when one leg started falling asleep. “What’s wr—?”

He leaned forward and—oh. Oh. Those were—his lips were on yours. He had leaned over the console and kissed you. He was kissing you.

And when you didn't kiss him back, he drew backwards, an embarrassed expression painted over the adorable flush on his cheeks. “That—I shouldn't have done that, should I? I'm sorry; I dunno what I was—”

You crushed your mouth against his this time, effectively stealing the apology right off his tongue. He tasted like melon soju, and his touch was gentle as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, cradle your jaw. He was tracing the outline of your features in the dark like he could sketch them in the lines in his mind.

He tasted like the color of amber, warm and bright, but not blindingly so. He was mellow and sweet, with the undertones of the burnt wood in his cologne.

You melded your lips against his mouth like you could engrave him into you, and you were practically half over the middle console already. Yeosang's free hand fumbled backward to find the button on the side of his chair—there. The chair began moving backward with a monotonous brrr sound, and as it moved you couldn't quite keep your lips physically attached to his.

You disconnected from him for what felt like an eternity in order to climb over—shoes knocking against empty soju bottles, ass nearly bumping the horn—and with some clumsy, awkward maneuvering, you were on him again, this time quite literally. You tumbled into his lap, his hands landing on either side of your waist and your hands bracing against the back of his chair.

He loosened a soft groan with the return of your lips to his, and he hauled you down closer to him, until your chests were pressed flush against one another and you couldn't tell which heartbeat was who's. His beanie fell off at some point, but your fingers buried themselves within the dark, silken mass of his hair, a hat in their own right.

When you both pulled away for breath, your chests heaved in tandem to catch it. You settled your cheek against his shoulder while you inhaled the smell of his cologne, much stronger now that you sat against his chest with your nose by his throat. His hand warmed the small of your back with the other cupping the back of your head in an affectionate cradle.

“I don't think I've ever kissed someone like that,” you admitted into the quiet. You suddenly couldn't hear the muffled music blasting from the party in the background anymore.

“Me neither,” he replied, voice hoarse from the kiss. “I've never met someone like you before.”

“Never in your life?”

“Never in my life.”

“So let me get this straight,” drawled Wooyoung with both hands poised at his temples, eyes screwed shut against the bright morning light coming in through the window. There were currently eight people crowded onto President Hongjoong's bed at a time that was far too early to be alive for a group of people who partied until four in the morning. “You're saying that you know this girl's family life, how she likes her eggs in the morning, and how she kisses—but you don't even know her name?”

Yeosang was propped up against the headboard, squeezed between a very unfairly serene-looking Seonghwa and a mildly hungover Hongjoong. Yeosang's bangs were flat against his forehead and he squinted his tired eyes through the strands. “No, that's not what I said. I said that I know her name… it's just not coming to me right now.”

He knew your name. Right? You told him your name, right? He addressed you by your name at least once last night, right?

(If he was being honest, as soon as Yeosang woke up this morning, he started whimsically recalling the events of last night in his head. But once he realized he neither had your number nor remembered your name, he jostled his friends up to invade the president's room for an emergency round table discussion. Who would have guessed their alarm clock would be a very panicked Maltese screaming, “I DON'T REMEMBER HER NAME!”)

“Which pretty much means you don't know her name,” Jongho piped up where he was laying against Yunho's back on the corner of the bed, his eyes closed while he attempted to squeeze in five more milliseconds of sleep.

“Well, do you know who she came with?” San asked. “She probably has at least one mutual friend or else she wouldn't have gotten in.”

Mingi furrowed his brows together. “Not necessarily. The pledges might not have been thorough when checking.”

Hongjoong's eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be there with them at the door, Mingi.”

“Oh, was I?”

Yunho cut in before Hongjoong could tackle Mingi off the bed. He grinned to himself, “Okay, but San has a point. Usually people are only able to sneak in if they're with a group.”

“Awh,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching over to pinch at Yeosang's cheek, “Yeosangie fell in love with a stowaway—ow! Hey! He just bit me!”

“Deserved,” Seonghwa said plainly. He turned his head so as to not have to face Wooyoung's wounded puppy eyes. It was too early for this. “Do you know if she came with anyone, Yeosang-ah?”

Yeosang scrunched his nose up, disgruntled. “No. I'm pretty sure she was looking for her friends when we met… something like that. I remember some things, but not everything.” He pinched the place between his brows in an attempt to piece together his memory of last night. He could remember the way you made him feel—it was the jittery warmth that came with falling, and his heart had never grown wings before like it had around you.

After the kiss, the two of you had sunk into a comfortable, quiet conversation about anything and everything beneath the sun. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable and heard by someone other than his fraternity brothers. You were perfect, for lack of a better word. And he knew a lot of words.

But how could he fucking forget your name?

He was never drinking that much melon soju ever again.

“She's a biology major,” he offered with a defeated sigh, letting his hand fall into his lap.

“What does she look like?” Hongjoong asked.

Yeosang's gaze went up to the ceiling as he recalled what you looked like to his friends. It was pretty dark the entire time he was with you, but there were a few moments when the streetlights hit your face and his conscience was constantly trying to keep his drunk ass from kissing you within the first ten minutes of meeting you. He'd managed to hold it together for a little bit longer before throwing all caution to the wind.

When he was done, San said in light amusement, “I'm just surprised you kissed her first. She must be something then, huh?”

Yeosang couldn't conceal the smile that slowly crept onto his face. “Yeah, she's…” He cleared his throat. “I just don't want last night to be the first and last time I see her.” It couldn't be—just when he thought he clicked with someone, the universe couldn't possibly be so cruel as to rip you away from him, could it?

“Don't you worry!” Mingi chirped, “We'll help you find your passenger princess.”

Seonghwa snorted. “Passenger princess? What is this, Cinderella?”

“It might as well be,” San chuckled, lifting his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Operation: Passenger Princess is a go!”

Yeosang wasn't sure if recruiting his friends’ help was a good or awful decision. But because his past, drunk self hadn't done many favors for his future, sober self, he would take all the help he could get.

You knew the moment you stumbled out of your bedroom and saw your roommate that you were in trouble. It wasn't trouble in the conventional sense; considering her eyes were laughing as she watched your pitiful walk of shame from your room to the shared bathroom, you knew you were not going to hear the end of everything that happened last night ever.

“Not a word,” you said to her as you winced at the blinding bathroom lights.

Her toothbrush hung out of her mouth as she slipped in behind you to spit her toothpaste into the sink. When her mouth was rinsed and clear, she made eye contact with you in the mirror, eyebrows wagging up and down. “So you and Yeosang, huh?”

You glared at her from around your own toothbrush. You would have taken the damn thing out to defend yourself, but you were already late.

Reina took full advantage of your occupied vocal chords. “I never knew pretty frat boys were your type, Yn,” she teased, practically floating out of the bathroom to go check on the state of her espresso in the kitchen.

“Aye hae yuu,” you grumbled around your toothbrush.

“What's that?” She cackled, bringing a hand up to the shell of her ear. “I love you? I love you, too, Yn. But you know who else loves you?—”

“Dompt shae it.”

“Yeosaaaang!”

You loathed the fact that her saying such things made butterflies flap their wings and dance around in your belly. It was simply delusional to think of love when all you and Yeosang did last night was make out in his car and accompany each other in deep, provoking conversation… conversation that definitely didn't make you feel incredibly seen or anything… definitely not.

Finally, you were able to spit your toothpaste out to make your argument. “Okay, first of all, I don't even have his number. And—how could he love me?” As if possession of a phone number could even correlate to love either.

Reina paused, her expression arranging into loud incredulity. “You what? After all I went through to separate the two of you to go home, you didn't exchange numbers?”

Okay, so maybe you shouldn't have disclosed that information—now you just looked stupid.

You lathered up facial cleanser in your hands and on your face. “Look. Exchanging numbers was just the last thing on our minds—” Oh, Yn. Have you ever said something smart?

Reina snorted. “Oh, I know.”

“We didn't just make out,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming beneath your hands. You furiously splashed cool water over your skin before patting your face dry. There likely wasn't much time left before you and Reina had to run to meet your other friends at your weekly volunteering session. “We talked.”

“Uh-huh, and you know that denial is a river in Egypt, right?”

Suffice to say that Reina most definitely did not let your shenanigans from last night go. The two of you managed to reach the food bank sometime before fifteen minutes past your original start time. Everyone else was already stationed and on time, and because you and Reina were the last to arrive, you were sent straight to dishwashing.

As you and Reina pulled on your twin pairs of pink rubber gloves, your friend Mark Lee (and brother with the NCT fraternity) barrelled into the backroom with a dirty ladle in his hands. His head perked up at the sight of you both, a smile blooming on his face. “Well, good morning, Party Animals. How was the ATZ party last night?”

He deposited the ladle into the sink for you to wash while he went to go find a clean one.

“It was cool, but I think Yn would love to tell you all about her experience,” Reina teased, bumping her elbow against your side.

Mark sidled up beside the two of you and leaned in close in proper tea-spilling fashion. “Oh my gosh, did something happen?”

You scowled at Reina, then said to Mark, “Nothing catastrophic—”

“She hooked up with Yeosang!”

You cut her a hard glance. “Reina, I don't think Neptune heard you.”

Mark's eyes went comically wide, jaw slackening. “Yn and Yeosang? That's so wild. Like—like Kang Yeosang?”

“I think? We didn't exactly exchange last names, but why would it be wild? We just kissed and talked.”

“Who kissed who now?” The new voice had you all glancing back over to the kitchen door where another member of the group, Yura, walked in. Yura was Reina's cousin, and the two grew up quite close, so it was natural that they ended up in similar social circles. You and all your other friends got along pleasantly with her. She flashed you all a small smile. “From the sounds of it, I'm guessing you guys had a fun time at the party last night?”

“We did!” Reina chirped.

“Shame you couldn't come with us this time,” you said offhandedly. It wasn't like Yura to miss a party.

Reina cocked her head to the side. “I could've sworn I saw you there though—”

“Ah,” Yura waved her hand to dismiss her cousin's thought. She chuckled, “You're probably mistaking someone else as me; I had that paper I needed to work on last night, remember? But Yn, you and Yeosang?”

You groaned. “I thought we were over this.”

“Dude, we can't not get over this,” Mark quipped back. “Yeosang just doesn't do stuff like that—hook up with people, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Yura chimed in, “I've seen him at a couple other Greek parties with some of my sorority friends and he looks pretty standoffish most of the time. He's usually always with one of his brothers. He's kind of cold, really.”

Mark furrowed his brows. “I wouldn't call him cold; he's just a little shy, is all.”

“My friends told me that a lot of sorority girls chase after him,” Yura said with wide eyes. “They get, like, aggressive about him or something.”

You and Reina exchanged a look. Was that who he was running from last night? “That must be kinda stressful,” you said softly with a small frown.

“Apparently, that's why his social medias don't take DMs unless approved,” she shrugged.

Well, there went your backup plan of finding him on social media. Then again, if he recognized you or your name, would that help if you requested him? That was if you deigned to change your profile picture to yourself and not one of your silly doodles.

You couldn't help the weight that your heart seemed to gain as it sank to the pit of your stomach.

“Well, that's mildly disappointing,” Reina muttered, turning to quickly wash the ladle Mark had just dropped off.

“I just wouldn't want you to get targeted by any of those crazy sorority girls, y'know?” Yura gave a laugh that sounded almost nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before snapping on a fresh pair of gloves.

You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, no, I—I get it. Thanks, Yura.”

She gave you a sympathetic look. “Of course,” she said. With a wave, she made her way back toward the kitchen door. “Mark, we better get back to work. See you guys at lunch break!”

When she was gone, Mark clapped a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, listen. I don't really know the guy personally, but me and Wooyoung are pretty tight. I can get in touch with them if you want—”

Baekhyun, the section leader for your session, charged into the kitchen with his arm piled high with dirty dishes. If you didn’t fear for the safety of the porcelain bowl at the top of the stack, you might have chuckled at the scene before you. “Mark! We don't pay you to stand around.”

“Hyung,” Mark huffed exasperatedly as he rushed over to help Baekhyun before the section leader could get knocked over the head by a rogue dish assisted by gravity. “You don't pay us. We're here out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“Well, I don't get paid enough for this,” Baekhyun said once all the dishes were transferred to the sink, and you and Reina were put to work. “Now come on; lots to do!”

Just as Mark was about to follow after Baekhyun, he caught your eyes. “I'm serious about the offer, Yn.”

You smiled. “Thanks, man, but let me think about it and I'll get back to you.”

“Yeah, just lemme know!” And he was gone.

Word broke out that someone in the ATZ household was searching for a girl. Word of mouth was a method of dissemination that could spread like wildfire, leaping from one tongue to one ear to another, leaving only ash and debris behind. And around Greek Row, it became a massive game of Telephone.

But while nearly everyone in the university's fraternities and sororities knew about his strife, Yeosang’s efforts seemed to be for naught. The only thing that emerged from this were more people harping after him, claiming to be 'the one he was looking for.’ None of them were you.

Your name had manifested itself in his head about halfway into the week. He'd been toiling over the theory readings his professor assigned for Thursday's lecture when he'd underlined a word, and it came crashing down upon him with ice cold clarity.

His eyes went wide as he shot up out of his chair, nearly sending Jongho careening off his bed on the other side of the room. “What the—”

“Yn,” Yeosang said. Then he declared a little louder, a giddy smile on his face, triumphant and bright, “Her name is Yn.”

Jongho resettled himself on top of his bed. “Well that narrows things down for us,” he drawled, taking his phone out and typing something out. “I don't suppose you have her last name.”

Yeosang fwumped onto the edge of his bed with his lips pressed into a line. “Dude. I literally just thought of her first name. Do you really think I can come up with—”

“Okay, okay,” Jongho laughed, flicking his wrist at him for a moment before resuming his typing.

“Who're you texting?” Yeosang asked as curiosity drew him across the room to Jongho's side.

His friend sat up so he could peer over his shoulder at the phone screen. “I'm doing the heavy lifting,” he teased. Based on the social media handle at the top of the direct messages channel, Jongho was texting Chungha, a friend of the frat's but a closer friend of President Hongjoong's, and the recently graduated head of the Phi Omega Phi sorority. “Hongjoong hyung mentioned offhandedly that Chungha wanted to get some friends into the party on Friday, so I'm seeing if she recognizes this Yn person you're looking for.”

Yeosang’s eyebrows flicked upward as he settled into a more comfortable position on Jongho’s bed while they awaited Chungha’s response. In the meantime, he pulled out his own phone in an attempt to search for your name amongst his mutuals. He frowned at the lack of a successful search—did you use a different name or did you not have a social media account? Was that why you hadn’t attempted to contact him in the past few days?

For a moment, a shard of self-consciousness pierced through his chest at the prospect that you didn’t want to contact him. Did sobriety make you embarrassed at what happened that night? Had he made you uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability that was in the car—no, the vulnerability was mutual… but maybe—

“Gotcha.”

Yeosang’s head whipped back over to Jongho’s screen. Having your name and major seemed to ring a bell for Chungha, and she forwarded a social media handle, along with a “tell Yeosang good luck ;)”.

“Thank you, Jongho. And bless up, Chungha,” Yeosang muttered as he swiftly input the social media handle into his search bar. There it was—a private art account with your first name in the biography line. There were only one or two people who you both shared mutuals with, which made sense.

His thumb hovered over the request button, and he bit his lip. With little else left to do and his heart banging around in his ribs from the anticipation alone, he clicked the button.

It didn’t take you incredibly long to accept his follow request and to follow him back. (Though, half an hour felt like an eternity when he was so anxious.) He made it painfully obvious that you acted in response, because Yeosang fumbled his phone between his palms like it was a hot potato, before he dropped it and stubbed his toe with it.

Jongho sent him a strange look as he handed the device back to a red-faced Yeosang, who furrowed his brows together to think of an opening direct message to you.

“It doesn't have to be perfect,” Jongho said as he peered over Yeosang's shoulder this time. He had even paused the game he was playing on his phone to stay tuned into the live entertainment.

Yeosang made a face. “Yes, it does.” It had to be the perfect mix of witty and funny and subtle and—

He figured it out.

@/yskang99: how do u like ur eggs?

Jongho released a sound of utter flabbergast, and Yeosang shushed him, both pairs of eyes pinned to the three dots that appeared on the bottom left-hand side of the screen.

@/studioyn: sunny side up

Yeosang broke into a smile, and Jongho's face contorted into pure incredulity. “What kind of security question is that?”

“Inside joke,” Yeosang replied giddily, rising from Jongho's bed to cross over to his side of the room. He collapsed into his desk chair and propped his feet up along the end of his bed.

Jongho scoffed, shifting his lounging position. He threw his friend another incredulous glance before giving up and returning to his game. He'd done his job.

@/yskang99: congrats u passed the test!

@/studioyn: ahh so that was a test? i imagined us doing a virtual handshake tbh

@/yskang99: i like that better actually

@/studioyn: also how did u find me lmao

Yeosang bit his lip through a grin. I have my ways, he typed out cryptically, cheekily.

@/studioyn: wtvr u say ig… 🤨🤨🤨

For a brief moment, Yeosang wondered if he should bring up the concern lingering in his mind—why you hadn't reached out to him. He didn't want to simply assume that he was “popular” enough that just anybody knew who he was, but he was also aware that most people were able to track him down on social media. But would that kill the vibe? He liked the energy.

@/studioyn: i can't get a read on whether or not ur any different than how u were drunk

@/yskang99: would that matter?

@/studioyn: not particularly, no, but i've met people who r

@/yskang99: no i get that, i've met my fair share too :/

He began typing out slowly: I missed you… Then he swiftly amended it to: I missed talking to you.

@/studioyn: awhh wait ik we've only technically spoken the one time, but i missed talking to u too yeo :’)

A smile split his face from ear to ear. Would you wanna hang out again? Only if you're comfortable, of course.

He watched the three dots appear, then disappear. You were thinking and his heart was sinking.

Finally, your response came in. I'd love to, but I don't wanna disappoint you with my god awful schedule this next week.

@/yskang99: what abt the weekend? something low stakes maybe?

@/yskang99: my brothers and i r going to the nct house on sat

@/studioyn: oh!! im actually close friends w mark lee :] i'll see if i can drag my friends along, and we can link up there?

The thought of seeing you again, even if it was at another dumb Greek party, made electricity zip through his veins. His stomach filled to the brim with butterflies, and he had to shift his position because of how much it tickled.

@/yskang99: yeah sounds great :D i'll look forward to seeing u

@/studioyn: same here yeo :’))

@/studioyn: how's ur week been so far?

Yeosang leaned back in his chair again, propping his elbows on the armrests to sink into a comfortable position. He had a feeling he might be here awhile, but he would sit here all night if it meant talking to you.

“Yn! We're gonna be late!”

You nearly jolted at the sound of Reina's voice carrying through the other side of your bedroom door. You dropped your phone onto your bed, racing to finish up the rest of your makeup. “You can never be late to a Greek party!” You countered, swiping your thumb over the pigment you just put on your lips.

Your bedroom door opened just as you were slipping a chain necklace around your collar. Reina poked her head in, her eyes looking you up and down. “Ooh-la-la,” she gushed with a teasing smile. “Someone's gotten all dolled up. I wonder who for…”

You rolled your eyes and ignored the obvious warmth rising to your face. “I just felt like it,” you defended weakly while spritzing a light mist of perfume over your neck and wrists. You stood up from your desk to collect your wallet, keys, and lip gloss to dump into a purse, then went over to retrieve your phone.

The screen displayed another message from Yeosang, no doubt continuing the conversation you had to abruptly pause because you would be late for the NCT party. This was going to be the second Greek party in two weeks—a record for your books. But you had a feeling it was going to be a good time like last week, you were sure of it.

As you skimmed the message Yeosang sent, you slipped out of the room to join Reina in the main living space. She casted you a pointed look with arms crossed over her chest and lips pressed together.

“What?” You blinked over at her innocently.

“You're never gonna see your boy at this rate,” she said as the two of you picked out your shoes for the night.

You sent a text answering Yeosang and letting him know you would be at the party soon. “He's not 'my boy,’” you said.

“Right. He's your man.”

You hated how hard it was to keep the giggle in your throat down. It was embarrassing how you smiled just then, too, turning your head away from a smug Reina.

God, he was just a guy; how did you get so head-over-heels after just one night? It had to be the fact that you'd been texting him nonstop over the past few days. Though you were busy and exhausted, you continued to check your phone all throughout the days and stayed up long into the nights just to talk to him. He had you hook, line, and sinker.

At some point, you'd forgotten what Yura warned you about on Saturday.

Your friends picked you and Reina up in one of their family minivans. A round of greetings went up as you clambered in behind Reina, and your friend asked where her cousin was tonight if she wasn't carpooling with the rest of you.

“She said she was at her sorority friend's house,” Sieun said offhandedly from the driver's seat. The minivan door closed on its own with a mechanical whirring sound. “She's probably at the party already.”

Some nights, parties called for a pregame session, while others (not unlike this one) was attacked raw. Sieun parked the minivan about a block outside of Greek row where there were spaces between cars along the curbs and where there was less of a chance of her accidentally running over a drunk partygoer stumbling into the street. The party was already in full swing with neon green strobe lights blazing aggressively through the front windows, and Gasolina blasting at nothing less than one hundred percent speaker volume.

You felt your phone vibrate in your hand as Reina grabbed your hand to avoid instantly losing you in the crowd.

@/yskang99: im on the second floor where there's less people 😋😋 they've got a nice balcony we can hide on!!

“Mark said they've got spiked Capri Sun somewhere in here!” Reina shouted into your ear.

You nodded your head vigorously. “Let's find it then!”

@/studioyn: gonna grab hard caprisun and then head up!! do u want some??

@/yskang99: surprise me w a flavor, pretty pls x

You grinned to yourself and slid your phone into your purse to focus on the task at hand.

The NCT fraternity house wasn't a completely unknown landscape to you and Reina. Being friends with one of its brothers and friends-by-association with all the rest, you'd popped by more than a few times. You could likely navigate this house with your eyes closed; that was what it was like weaving through the dark rooms and throngs of people squeezed together like sardines in a can, anyway.

Along yours and Reina's trek to the kitchen, you gained a couple people in your conga line of linked hands, NCT's own Xiaojun and Jungwoo. NCT frat brothers always pregamed, so the two brothers were already tipsy and giggled about your kindergarten field trip line (with Reina being dubbed the poor kindergarten teacher tasked with keeping you together).

When you arrived at your destination, it didn't take long for you to lose both Xiaojun and Jungwoo to the game of Texas Hold 'Em being played at the breakfast table. The singular lightbulb overheard made it feel like a smoke-filled backdoor gambling den.

“Aha!” You cheered after playing a game of mystery cooler roulette, and opened the cooler lid that held the spiked Capri Sun juice pouches on ice.

“Mine!” Reina snatched up the last cherry flavored one, the shiny aluminum slippery and ice-cold as she impaled the opening with the thin, yellow straw.

You grabbed a Pacific Cooler flavored pouch for yourself, and a second for Yeosang.

“Ah, is that for the man of your dreams?” Reina said between sips, her pouch already half empty.

You sent her a look. “He has good taste, which means he'll probably appreciate Pacific Cooler as much as I do.”

“As long as it's not lemonade,” came a voice to your left. There stood a rather tall and lean man, his warm smile enunciated by the dim kitchen lighting as the green strobe lights from the living room painted across his face. “I can't deal with sour shit,” he explained, making a face.

You laughed. “That's valid. Fruit Punch is a classic though.”

“Can't argue with that,” he replied, leaning down to pick his poison for the night. He stabbed a straw into his pouch of strawberry kiwi juice, then arched an eyebrow at you. “I feel like I know you. Do I know you?”

“Hey,” Reina chimed in as she leaned over your shoulder, “you're with the ATZ frat, aren't you? I recognize you from Twister last week.”

He smiled sheepishly from around his straw. “Ah… haha, not my best moment, but yes. I'm Yunho.”

“Reina,” your friend replied.

“Yn,” you added on.

Yunho's expression jerked as if he'd just been delivered an electric shock. He waved his pointer finger at you. “Oh my god, you're Yeosang's girl!”

Your eyes shuddered in surprise. Yeosang's girl. “Sorry?” You stammered. There was an insane amount of possessive pronouns being used tonight, buy you definitely weren't complaining about it, and could he perhaps say that again—

“Yeah, he won't shut up about you.” Yunho slurped up the rest of his juice pouch, draining and flattening the life out of it in record time. “He loves Pacific Cooler, by the way.”

He took his leave then, saying nothing else to you and Reina except for shooting you a pair of finger guns like saying 'go get em, tiger!’

Reina wheezed, draping herself over you for a moment. “Oh—my god! Good thing Yeosang's just as down in the trenches as you are.”

“Don't do this to me, Reina,” you whined and dragged her along out of the kitchen toward the second floor staircase. “I don't need encouragement; the crush is enough!”

“It's never enough,” she declared with her pointer finger up in the sky. “You are gone, my friend! Gone, I say.”

You patted her head as you both began your ascent up the stairs. “Alrighty; then gone, I am. Do you remember where the balcony is on this floor?”

She hummed. “Ooh! Somewhere by Johnjae's room, abouts. I just remember because Mark told us how—”

“Right—the sophomore year Romeo and Juliet reenactment,” you snorted. You couldn't wrap your head around the batshit crazy things that occurred around these parts. “Who convinced Doyoung to play Paris anyway?”

She made a noncommittal noise. “Must've been bribed—oh, there it is, but I think there's a couple out there already…”

There was most definitely a couple on the balcony. Their outlines were silhouettes against the residual strobe lights shining up from downstairs, so it was a little too dark to make out who they were. They seemed close—the girl was all over the boy, the latter trying to hold her up by her waist. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, and for a moment, you were glad someone was taking care of her.

But when she leaned in for a kiss, green light glanced across their faces to reveal their features to you. It was only a split second, but it was all you needed.

“Reina,” you exhaled in shock, turning away from the balcony with enough speed to nearly give you whiplash.

She didn't question you, as you both careened back down the hall from where you came from, heading for one of the open bedrooms on this floor to collect yourselves. When the two of you were out of earshot of the balcony, she hissed under her breath in utter disbelief, “Yura?”

You'd seen it nearly clear as day, too. That was Yura kissing Yeosang.

Your head spun as you shouldered your way into Mark's and Haechan's room, their names plastered on the door in foam letter stickers from the craft store. As Reina closed the door and turned on the lights, you sat down in Mark's desk chair attempting to make sense of what you and Reina just witnessed.

Yeosang and Yura? But wasn't Yura the one who warned you that chasing after Yeosang was a risk because of how many others were, as well? Why would…

Oh.

Well, now you just felt stupid.

Reina dragged over Haechan's desk chair to settle in front of you, her expression less enraged than before, and more concerned over what she was reading off of your face. “Hey, don't do that. Don't think like that.”

“You don't know what I'm thinking,” you murmured, setting the untouched juice pouches on the desk.

“You're thinking that you're stupid.”

“Okay, maybe you do know what I'm thinking.” You inhaled, then exhaled slowly, leaning forward onto your knees. “I don't really know what to think or assume.”

Reina nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “That's okay. I don't think I really understand what I saw either.”

“But that was Yura, right?”

She bobbed her head again. “That was my cousin, yeah.”

“Would it be fair to even think that she told me all that shit last week to discourage me from seeing him?” You didn't enjoy thinking that another person would have such malicious intentions without understanding their point of view, especially someone you considered yourself friends with.

“Well,” Reina drawled, “I think we both saw what we saw, and Yura was acting strangely about it on Saturday. It would be fair if you were hurt by it; I think your feelings have been clear.”

You gave a small nod. “Do you think he…?”

“I'm not sure, hon.”

You resolved to talk to him about it. If anything, you had these juice pouches left to console yourself, but you wanted to make sure you knew where his feelings laid. You would be lying if you said your heart didn't harbor even a glimmer of hope that this was all a misunderstanding, and that the kiss was an accident and didn't matter.

You and Reina left the relative safety of Mark and Haechan's bedroom to go find Yeosang. There weren't any new messages between either of you since the Capri Sun exchange, and you thought about texting him on his whereabouts.

The balcony by Johnny and Jaehyun's room was empty now, barren of any evidence somebody was there in the first place.

You and Reina wandered back down to the main floor. The party was nowhere near over; the night was still young. Hope was sinking fast in your stomach as the two of you traveled from room to room in search of him, but with no luck. Even asking around was useless.

“Text him,” Reina encouraged, as the two of you sipped on the juice pouches that were supposed to be for you and him.

She held your spiked juice while you texted him.

As time passed, and a response had yet to come through, you tossed yours and Reina's flattened Capri Sun pouches into the nearest garbage can.

If he wasn't going to answer, then maybe you would just go home for the night. You had a lot to think about.

Defeated, you let Reina sweep you under her arm and guide you to the front door. “Let's go home, hm?” She said, rubbing your shoulder.

On your way to the front door, you paused. You thought you heard someone calling your name—

You turned around to find Mark barreling toward you through the crowd with another guy at his side. “Mark?” You shouted over the music.

“Hey, we've been looking all over for you,” he said. Nodding to his friend, he told you, “This is Wooyoung, by the way, the ATZ brother I'm friends with.”

“Yeosang's been looking for you,” Wooyoung said in earnest, eyes as wide as Mark's. Had they been looking for you as much as you were looking for Yeosang?

Something like hope sparked in your chest again—you were at odds. The fight had nearly dissipated from your blood and you were ready to go home. But if he was trying to find you… it must be worth it then, right?

“Where is he?” You asked.

It was nearing midnight by the time you settled yourself on the concrete curb outside the ATZ frat house just down the block from the target being thrown at the NCT house. With everyone over there, no wonder it was quiet enough to finally hear yourself think. With the coming of deep autumn, a slight breeze wafted by that drifted over your skin and raised goosebumps on your arms.

You heard gravel crunching from behind you, coming down the ATZ driveway, and before you could turn your head to look, a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. You held your breath, fingers finding the lapel to keep it from slipping as you glanced over at your counterpart.

Yeosang lowered himself onto the curb next to you, mimicking your position with his knees bent and arms resting upon them. “I—my phone died,” he said lowly.

“Oh.” That took care of at least two of your questions.

“Is there—” He stopped himself, amending his statement, “There's something on your mind.”

Understatement of the century. You pulled his jacket around you, the intertwining scents of alcohol and his cologne lingering on the collar. “I was going to meet you at the balcony, and I was there, but… but I saw you and Yura, and…”

It was his turn to say “oh.” He angled his body toward you now until his knees bumped against yours and he was muttering out an apology he didn't need to say. He laid his upper body over his arms that were folded onto his knees and peered up at you through lengthy lashes.

He was waiting for you to finish.

You swallowed, following his lead and turning your body toward him. “I saw her kiss you,” you said, the sound barely audible to anybody but you and him. “Reina and I went somewhere to kind of just soak in what we saw, and then we went back out to find you so I could talk to you about it, but we couldn't find you.”

“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed together. “It—it didn't mean anything. She did try to kiss me, but I pushed her away before she could.”

You believed him. You loosened a small chuckle from your lips. “Y'know, it sounds silly to me now, but last week she told me that there were a number of girls who were pursing you and were very aggressive about it.”

He snorted. “If there were any, I only know of one.”

“She…?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, lips pursing. “I know she's liked me for a while, but I've made it clear I don't see her the same way. At last Friday's party, I was actually trying to lose her in the crowd when I found you.”

Your eyes widened. “So she was there?” Then Reina had actually seen her cousin at the party; Yura had lied about where she was.

“She told me tonight that she was scared about me liking you more than her,” Yeosang said as he lifted his body back up to rest his cheek against his fist. “She was really drunk—which was why you probably saw me trying to hold her up—and then she… tried to kiss me. I pushed her away, and one of her friends found us, so I handed her over and went to get some air.”

And that was why you couldn't find him. You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding in. “Are you—are you okay? I'm so sorry she did that to you.”

The corners of his lips tugged upward in a reassuring smile. “I'm alright, thank you. And it's not your fault.”

“I know, but still,” you insisted. “Your boundaries were violated, and it makes me feel so icky that I've called her a friend of mine, and—what?”

Your words came to a screeching halt when you realized that Yeosang was just smiling at you. Or rather, gazing at you, admiring you. It was whatever he did whenever his eyes possessed a set of twin jewels in his irises that needed no light to glitter like gold; and when his grin softened at the corners by a tenderness that knocked the wind out of you, all words and systems failed you.

You recognized this look, except this time, you weren't drunk.

“I'm really happy I met you,” he said in your silence. “And I'm happy I got to see you again.”

You nearly melted. You smiled back at him, replying quietly, “Couldn’t have said it any better. Thank you for being honest with me.”

“And thank you for believing me.” He reached for your hand, his movements slow as if giving you an opening to pull back if you wanted to. But you didn't, and you closed the remaining space to link your fingers and press your palms together.

You and Yeosang shared mutual smiles in the dim lighting outside his fraternity house. Your heart beat had quickened a considerable amount now that he was so close to you again.

You cleared your throat. "Just to be clear though—when you said she was scared about you liking me more than her—?"

His smile reached his eyes and turned them into upturned crescent moons. "I'm not scared," he said, "that I like you more than I have ever liked her." By a landslide.

Your heart gave a lurch in your chest. "Good," you smiled. "That's good, because I like you a whole lot, too."

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Yeosang inclined his chin toward where his car was parked a couple vehicles down. “Properly this time, now that we're not completely wasted?”

You laughed. “I would love nothing more.”

Pleased, he helped you to your feet. You must have stood up far too quickly though, because the blood rushed up to your head in a riptide current. You swore as the vertigo hit you, and your footing stumbled.

“Woah, careful there, pretty,” he murmured, his low voice by your ear as he steadied you with one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and the other around your waist.

Oh, there went your heart… it flew up to halo around Yeosang's head, and it wasn't yours anymore—

“You okay?” He mused.

You cleared your throat, straightening. “Yeah, I'm great,” you said sheepishly, ducking your head toward your chest.

A warm, fond chuckle left his mouth. “Cute,” he murmured. He lifted your chin up so you would look at him, his eyes darting down toward your mouth, and yours mirroring his movements. “I was wondering…”

“You can kiss me,” you blurted out, ignoring the utter leap in your pulse and the heat crawling up the back of your neck.

You tasted his smile as he leaned over to seal his mouth over your own, a long awaited return to the place that felt just right. You breathed him in, inhaled him, devoured him whole—you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer just as his hands pressed you flush against him.

In the distance against the heavy house music in the background, a cheer went up into the night sky.

You and Yeosang parted only to crane your heads in the direction of the noise, only to find what looked like a gathering of your friends and his friends hooting and applauding like it was New Years.

“OPERATION: PASSENGER PRINCESS WINS!” The guy from earlier, Wooyoung, practically howled up at the sky.

You pressed your face against Yeosang's shoulder as he groaned. “I am so sorry about them,” he chuckled through a grimace, lips grazing over your crown.

You laughed along with him. “My friends are also among the guilty party, Yeo.”

He kept his arm around your waist and you kept your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked away from your friends and toward his car. Contentment curled itself up over your chest again, and it nestled in deep, as if it planned to stay awhile.

“By the way,” you piped up as he unlocked his car.

“Mhm?”

You opened the passenger side door and leaned over the top of it to ask, “What the hell is Operation: Passenger Princess?”

Yeosang sputtered out a laugh and his cheekbones burned red. “How about we save that for our third date?”

You blinked, lips parting.

Yeosang grinned impishly. “Close that mouth, pretty, or I'll close it for you.”

Your jaw snapped closed, and his laugh echoed against the houses along this street. You climbed into the car after him, flustered beyond words. “I don't like you,” was all you could come up with.

“I'm sure you don't.”

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed! also, the plan is to try and write another wooyo frat au as well, so pray for me...

atz m.list

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