#kinda rich boy au?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kooktrash · 6 months

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million dollar darling | jeon jungkook

summary: jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.

➣ genre/au: jungkook x model!reader [she/her, female anatomy], old money au, smut, plot [soft on the e2l/f2l tropes]

[loosely inspired by ‘crazy rich asians’ movie/book by kevin kwan]

➣19.7k words

warnings: heavy plot. smut. model oc. jk is a wander but he’s really just a rich guy in disguise. oc and jk got heavy tension but good banter. oc is kinda snotty but not really? namjoon x oc [not y/n]. rich, old money snotty bts. sex on a yacht. teasing. foreplay. oral [f and m receiving]. jk goes to town on oc. cunnilingus. unprotected. missionary. oc on top. jk is tatted up in a polo. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk while he’s on the phone with hobi 😭. jk’s villain arc as he slowly turns back into a cocky rich boy hehe. jk gets sex flashbacks at dolce and gabbana

“Come on, it’s my wedding and I want you as my best man. Do it for your best friend.”

The sky had been clear when he landed, a bright blue cloudless sky that resembled the clarity of the sea he had left behind. The air already seemed stiffer and the bleakness of the airport brought his mood down almost immediately.

The only thing to make him somewhat happy to be home was the sight of the person in front of him, a huge grin on his face as he saw him. The man was dressed casual in a pair of sweats and a hoodie but the small details of his watch matched with the luxury car parked outside brought unwelcome attention to Jungkook when people stared.

“I was worried you bailed last minute,” Namjoon said with a grin as he pulled him into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jungkook reached into the pocket of his oversized black hoodie and slid his face mask off, taking a cigarette and lighting it once they were outside the airport, “It’s been too long without seeing your beautiful face.”

“Yeah, don’t tell Yeonwoo, but I’d marry you if you weren’t such a man,” Namjoon joked, playfully flirting which Jungkook just laughed off.

“Too bad you’re not my type,” Jungkook patted his shoulder apologetically, “Besides, where is the bride?”

“Getting her hair done for tonight,” Namjoon said as they got into a Bentley Mulssane, “Also, please drive, I’m scared.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook scoffed, taking the keys anyway, “If you hate driving so much why buy an expensive car?”

“Yeonwoo liked the color,” Namjoon said as he got in the passenger’s seat of his own car, “Are you staying with your parents? I could still find you an apartment.”

“For a week? Don’t bother, I’m staying at a hotel,” Jungkook said, turning the engine on and driving out.

Namjoon sighed, “So you really are leaving again?”

“Was there ever a doubt I was?” Jungkook asked in surprise.

“Duh, kid. We miss you, you rarely call, you never visit, you barely respond and we know nothing that goes on with you,” Namjoon said, “I thought once you got your fill of life experiences, you’d come back.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything at that, sniffling uncomfortably as he tried switching the subject, “So, who’s my partner?”

This time Namjoon was the one to freeze up, staring out the window with sunglasses on and his jaw locked. With a shy smile, he asked, “Are you gonna bring a date?”

His brows furrowed as he looked at his friend, “Who’s the Maid of Honor?”

Namjoon released a nervous laugh, “Y/n L/n.”

The silence in the car was loud and from the way Jungkook’s jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed, it was easy to see he wasn’t happy about that. You? You were the Maid of Honor and his partner down the aisle?

“You know, her and Yeonwoo are close and Yeonwoo’s always thinking about who looks the best next to her on camera and obviously she’s gonna choose the runway model but listen,” Namjoon could barely catch a breath, “Y/n’s matured more now and she’s going to be there tonight so please be on your best behavior.”

“Tonight? What’s tonight?” Jungkook’s tone was sharper now and Namjoon huffed in annoyance.

“The rehearsal dinner on the pier, it was all in the catalog I sent you,” Namjoon said, “It’s for press. Our parents want to get it on Forbes and Vogue, they want to make it the Wedding of the Year.”

They both laughed at that and Jungkook sighed, “So there’s gonna be cameras?”

“Yeah but don’t worry they won’t focus on you,” Namjoon said with a smirk, “The attention’s going on me.”

When Jungkook pulled up to the hotel he would be staying at for the week, Namjoon left him to settle in with a promise that he would make it tonight so he had no choice not to. A letter from a close friend was sitting on the coffee table and he set his things down to get it.

It was a big envelope with a card and a few things rattling inside that made him curious. Jungkook turned the envelope down so the contents would fall onto his palm and a roll of condoms slipped out.

‘Welcome home buddy, enjoy the penthouse and may all your frustrations come undone — Jung Hoseok.’

The note itself made him scoff in disbelief. His womanizing friend making jokes before they’ve actually reunited. He left the things on the table and left to shower, doing what he could to make himself look presentable for tonight.

Tonight was the beginning of a soon-to-be hectic week of photoshoots, brunches, parties and finally the wedding. You were one of the ones front and center, never taking the limelight from the bride but carrying your own sense of grace that had people turning heads when you walked into a room—or in this case riverwalk.

You vowed to appear your best tonight and opted for a silk, powder blue Prada dress paired with Swarovski crystals on your neck. You did your part as Maid of Honor, directing all attention to your friend, polite smile and gentle assurance when needed in front of a crowd. Yeonwoo found it comical how well you fit into character when you need to.

“The perfect friend,” Yeonwoo joked as you dabbed smeared lip gloss from her lips, “What would I do without you?”

“Oh, I hope you never have to find out,” You said in a gentle voice that feigned innocence and longing. Yeonwoo laughed as she was called toward other people and you let her go as you found the nearest server holding a glass of champagne. You took a glass, turning toward the railing overlooking the shore, tipping your glass back and chugging as much of the drink as possible.

“So this is where the Maid of Honor will be spending her night?” A familiar deep voice spoke up from behind you and a mischievous smile grew on your face. You set the glass down, straightened your posture and turned to him with a soft gaze.

“Now you know that’s not fair, Joon, I’ve been with Yeonwoo most of the night,” you told him, already motioning for another server to give you a glass, completely ignoring the man standing beside him.

“I believe you, darling, now why don’t you come say hi to the Best Man,” Namjoon pushed Jungkook forward who just glared at him in response, “You remember Jeon Jungkook, right?”

“It’s been two years, not ten,” You said, finally looking at Jungkook with a glimmer of annoyance in your eyes, matched by his stare of unamusement.

“Alright well why don’t you two get reacquainted while I search for the gorgeous love of my life,” Namjoon said, making his escape as quick as possible.

“You counted?” Jungkook asked, taking just one step toward you, trying to stop his eyes from trailing down your figure.

“Of course,” You said sarcastically, “I’ve just missed you so.”

He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes as he turned to the water, “You knew we were partners?”

“Obviously, I know everything,” you said with a scoff that had his tongue pressing against his cheek, clearly annoyed, “Like how you’re staying at one of the Jung’s hotels instead of home. How you plan on leaving still, where you landed, how long you’ve been her—“

“So you’re stalking me?” Jungkook asked, only half joking.

“Don’t you wish,” you laughed, “You’re all over the news.”

His smile dropped. When he had nothing to say, you grew bored and left him behind, making sure to lightly graze your fingers against his arm as you said, “And just remember, you’re the one who despises me, not the other way around.”

With that, you left without looking back and he was left watching the sway of your hips when you walked away.

Money rules the world, even when people want to say it doesn’t. The people who have it are living the dream and the ones who don’t, want the dream. It doesn’t even have to be the luxurious wonders of the world, it could be as little as financial stability or surviving. At the end of the day, it was a Rich Man’s world and this group of individuals were born lucky.

First, the groom: Kim Namjoon. The man with it all, the money, the family, the education, son of millionaires with three hospitals in their name and a line of pharmacies all across the globe.

The bride: soon-to-be, Kim Yeonwoo. The heiress to half a dozen airlines, an airport funded by her family for decades and a beautiful island in her name off the coast.

Kim Seokjin, practically a prince, generations worth of politicians, the highest education and a trust fund worth millions. He was the one you’ll see with the president or in Australia, golfing with men in charge.

Jung Hoseok, the hotel heir to a chain of ten thousand hotels across the globe. He was the one you’ll most likely catch partying in Venice with a princess whose name he couldn’t actually remember—or maybe giving a waitress the night of her life.

Min Yoongi, eldest son of an elite banking firm formed a hundred years ago. He was private about his life, similar to Jungkook, he only came out when he was summoned by one of the others.

Kim Taehyung was wild as Hoseok but more quiet about it. He’ll soon be heir of the billion dollar empire his family built in the Art world of museums and curations and performing arts.

Now, Jungkook’s story was a bit different from the others. His family worked in land development, most of the country being built on the backs of the Jeon’s who brought cities to rural areas and avoided the public’s eye.

They had the kind of old money that everyone knew, even when they tried to stay out of the news.

It was the kind of old money, people could never stop talking about and you understood what that meant most.

There was a mystery to the fortune of your family, it was old money, so old nobody knew where it came from. Some say oil, some claim aristocrats but it was too far back, and too private for any to know. All the public knew were the generous and loving philanthropists and their perfect daughter, the Nation’s Sweetheart, you.

You really were loved by all, the camera, the press, everyone. They all saw the kind, innocent girl in the public’s eye but only a few saw the snotty, spoiled and downright disrespectful side of you that was real.

Where Jungkook craved independence and isolation from his family name, you soaked in it. The attention. The money. The dependence, you were the complete opposite of him and it drew him insane.

One might ask why he was around you if he really did despise you, but for a long time it wasn’t up to him. The group didn’t all become friends one magical night when you compared your family’s net worth.

No, this bond had grown between galas, private academies, horse riding lessons at the country club and family businesses. It was a very elite, classist society where only the ultra rich could really only trust in each other and keep a country afloat off of it.

Do you think Namjoon would have been allowed to marry Yeonwoo if her parents weren’t as rich as they were?

Do you think Seokjin would have married his wife that he met at Oxford if her family hadn’t been international shipping magnates?

It was like a spider web, they were all connected in some way, all controlled and that’s what Jungkook hated.

He loved his friends, truly, but he hated the control. Not a single one of them had real freedom and every little thing they did came with a price and he couldn’t live that way anymore. He understood his own privilege and how lucky he was to grow up in such a way but he knew there was more to life than just that. When he left home for the first time, he didn’t expect to feel so free. It was like a sense of independence he’s not sure any of his friends have felt and now that he’s back he’s reminded once again of how suffocating it all is.

There had to be at least a hundred guests in attendance tonight and he couldn’t find a moment of silence. The suit he wore felt uncomfortable and he hated the way it seemed to confine him, make him more rigid and stiff.

“Please Jungkook, I was only being funny. Did it bother you that much?” Hoseok asked with a tinge of mischief in his voice.

“No,” Jungkook shrugged as he looked around the banquet hall, “I just found it unnecessary.”

“Really? I would’ve assumed the opposite considering you’ll be spending a lot of time with Y/n this week,” Taehyung said with a shrug as the three of them stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves as the guests of the charity banquet focused on your parents who stood on stage making some speech about the importance of giving.

As if on cue, the spotlight turned toward you where you smiled politely and acted shyly for the cameras.

A scoff left his lips as he pulled his gaze away from you, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hoseok chuckled, “Oh come on man, everyone knows you have a thing for her—you’re really bad at hiding it.”

With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook stepped away from his friends, “You guys don’t know anything.”

He didn’t have a thing for you.

Sure, you’ve known each other for a long time but that means nothing. He’s known them all for a long time and if anything he's made his distaste toward you pretty evident. When you were younger it was only because you were so spoiled and the attention had to always be on you. He hated watching everyone fall for your sweetness and do whatever you asked of them. He almost fell for it himself a couple times but then he would see the way you judged or looked down on people and he just despised you more.

There’s nothing about you that attracts him aside from your looks…

Tonight you were dressed more modestly in a Chanel sweater and skirt set that looked like you would soon be relaxing at the country club. You wore a black headband with a bow on it and satin gloves, looking as polite as ever while you talked to anyone who approached you.

You were the perfect, doting daughter and anyone with eyes could see that.

“So how mad are you?” Yeonwoo asked once you had settled back in your chair next to her and Namjoon. Even Namjoon seemed to listen in on the question, waiting to hear what you would say.

“What do I have to be mad at?” You asked with a tight smile as you reached toward her to fix a slight smudge on her cheek, “ Jungkook?”

“Well, we know you have some sort of disliking toward each other but…” Yeonwoo bit her lip nervously, “Joonie and Jungkook are really close.”

“We know you two don’t like each other but you should have expected this, right?” Namjoon chuckled nervously, “You’re both our best friends and…”

“Am I saying anything?” You asked.

They shared a look with each other, “I guess not.”

You smiled, “Okay, then let’s just make sure everything runs smoothly this week.”

You did in fact feel a type of way about Jeon Jungkook but you weren’t going to admit that right now surrounded by so many people always lingering around trying to listen. You’ve learned to be very careful about how you act in public and there’s no way your friends will get you to act out by asking about him.

Jungkook was not someone you wished to exhort so much energy on. He wasn’t worth anything to you and despite how many years you’ve known him, you’ve never wished to get to know him. You don’t care where he goes when he’s not home or who he talks to, nor what he does. He doesn’t cross your mind at all through your normal day to day and you surely weren’t going to let him in this week. All he has going for him is his money and his looks.

Ever since you learned he would be the Best Man you thought about what that would mean and accepted that he would be the one to walk with you down the aisle. Despite not being happy about it, you managed to hide your resentment quite well.

You know how he feels about you and over time that’s made you develop a disliking toward him which you find only fair. He might dislike you for being spoiled but you dislike him for being so entitled.

For some reason, he thinks distancing himself from this life means he’s better than everyone else and you hate that. He thinks that by moving away and making his own money suddenly makes him different than the rest of you but that’s not true. He just wants to act like he’s self made so he can feel superior to all of you trust fund babies and that is what annoyed you.

After some time third wheeling, you were getting tired and slightly annoyed watching the couple act lovey dovey. You hated couples, they grossed you out even if they were your best friends.

“Mind if I keep you company? You look like you need it.”

With a furrow in your brows, you turned to face the person who felt the need to whisper in your ear and get close to you without permission. A smile spread across your lips at the man standing directly behind you, his arm draping over your front and hugging you.

“Hello, darling, I’ve missed you,” Jimin’s voice was soft yet sultry and you gave each other kisses on the cheek in greeting as he moved to the empty seat beside you.

“I didn’t realize you were back,” You said to him, “How was Paris?”

He released a sigh, “Oh the usual, shopping… a few events here and there.”

“Mhm, and when’d you get back?” You asked, now intrigued by his presence.

“Just last night. I was planning on visiting you earlier but things came up,” Jimin said, adjusting the Swiss watch on his wrist, admiring the shine, “What has happened since I was gone?”

“Oh God, he’s back,” Hoseok rolled his eyes from across the room, “I ran into him in Marseille the other day and the guy wanted to act like he didn’t know me.”

“He’s been insufferable since Uni,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, “I don’t understand why Y/n puts up with him.”

“Who?” Jungkook asked, only half curious. He hadn’t been paying attention until he heard your name and his reason for hearing it was purely coincidental.

“Park Jimin,” Hoseok clarified, making Jungkook look closer at the man who sat very close to you, making you smile and touch his arms when you spoke.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Jungkook seemed indifferent as he looked down at his glass of champagne, trying to resist the urge to look back at you.

“Not at all,” Taehyung said, “He’s just some guy we went to Uni with here. I don’t know how he met Y/n though, probably at some shitty party but he’s nobody that matters.”

Well… Park Jimin was the son of starlets. His great grandmother, his grandmother was an actress, his mother was an actress and he’s been in a few independent films here and there. He spends most of his time sailing on yachts or speaking of the Cannes Film Festival. He’s insanely rich, but he’s still not rich enough despite his accumulated generational wealth.

Unlike Jungkook’s wealth which held actual value especially in real estate, Jimin’s just didn’t compare to his or any of his friends for that matter. So why did you seem captivated by him?

He is aware he shouldn’t think this way, it’s only him reverting back to his old self which was all arrogance and entitlement. He shouldn’t think about how much wealthier he was compared to Jimin.

Unfortunately, Jungkook couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the pair as he tipped his champagne glass back, liquid pouring down his throat.

“Do you think she’ll take him to the wedding? I doubt Namjoon or Yeonwoo would ever invite him themselves,” Hoseok said and the three seemed like a group of gossips, the way they huddled around each other.

In Jungkook’s defense, he was barely listening to his friends. He was too busy watching the interaction happening not far from where he stood, eyes narrowed trying to understand what was happening.

First, he didn’t like you. He found you unbearable and you were the epitome of everything he hated about the High Society he had been raised in.

Second, he was only looking because you were next to his best friends. Maybe he wanted to see how in love Namjoon and Yeonwoo were but he couldn’t see because of you and your… friend.

Third, he wanted to know how you managed to stand out in your outfit despite the room being filled with people in extravagant clothes.

“I’m not sure, actually, rumors say she might,” Taehyung said and Jungkook couldn’t help but look over.

“What?”

“We’re just wondering if the Maid of Honor would bring her little boy toy to the wedding,” Hoseok said, looking at Jungkook as his jaw tensed, “What do you think?”

“I don’t care if Y/n brings anyone, we’re just dates for the pictures and ceremony,” Jungkook said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“So are you going to take a date too then?” Taehyung asked.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said as a server came around holding a tray of champagne glasses and he switched his empty one out for a full one. He didn’t bother to look back at his friends as he began walking away, “I’ll be back.”

“It’s so hard for him to act like he doesn’t care.”

“Kook! Come here, man,” Namjoon said with a wide grin as he saw his best friend walking by them. Jungkook didn’t bother glancing down at you as he greeted his friend.

“Kooky, I haven’t seen you all night,” Yeonwoo stood up to hug him, “Please don’t seduce my future husband, everyone has already RSVP’d.”

“Oh Yeonie,” Jungkook softly caressed her cheek, tipping her chin up to look at him, “If I wanted him, I would have had him by now.”

“Joon!” Yeonwoo whined clinging to Namjoon who just winked at Jungkook, further amplifying his fiancé’s feigned sobs. Jungkook smiled watching her squirm and without him meaning to, he let his gaze fall toward you.

“Y/n.”

You met his intense stare with your own and you could hear Jimin say he was going to get a drink but you didn’t look at him. You looked down at what Jungkook was wearing—a plain black Prada suit, how boring. “Jungkook.”

“Is that who you’re bringing to the wedding?” Jungkook asked, looking back at the infamous Park Jimin who stood with Taehyung and Hoseok, all three of them pretending to enjoy each other’s company.

“Maybe, we do get along very well,” you said with a sly smile as you stood up, not yet reaching Jungkook’s height but he didn’t intimidate you, “Is that a problem?

“No,” Jungkook said, voice low and deep, “I was just curious.”

“And why were you curious?” You asked, a mocking tone in your voice that he didn’t like, “Do tell me, how often are you curious about what I do?”

A scoff left his lips as he looked away from you first, “It was just a question, don’t get ahead of yourself and think you matter to me more than you do.”

An evident pout appeared on your lips and for a second his expression changed with worry but the moment was fleeting. You just laughed [giggled, actually] and with a gentle touch to his arm, said, “No need to lie to yourself.”

His eyes narrowed, anger bubbling up inside him when he heard a shutter of cameras going off, flash in his face and without thinking, he took your hand in his and left.

“If you plan on kidnapping me, it won’t work,” You said teasingly as you left to some dark corner behind large pillars.

“I’m not going to put up with a week of your games,” Jungkook said as he let go of your hand, missing the way your eyes fell to the black ink on his knuckles—something you had never noticed before, not even on the yacht when it was dark out.

“Then stop playing into them,” you said with a laugh, “If I drive you crazy, why bother talking to me at all? I think we’re both very capable of ignoring each other enough to not have to say a single word.”

“What I mean is, you can put on this act of yours for the cameras but don’t drag me into it,” Jungkook told you, ignoring the idea you had thrown out there. He was referring to your strange smiles and touches you give him when in the public.

“I’m not dragging you into anything,” You rolled your eyes, “And you seem to forget all eyes have been on you since you got back—heir to the Jeon Corporation. What do you think people will say when they find out you dragged me out here all alone? The Big, Bad & Rebellious Jeon Jungkook and The Nation’s Sweetheart, me.”

His eyes shut with a hint of anger that he tried to subdue, “Sweetheart?”

“That’s what I said,” you smiled sweetly to prove your point making him scoff.

“You’re not a sweetheart, you’re a spoiled brat,” Jungkook said, looking down at you in your pretty clothes with your pretty jewelry and your pretty face.

“Nice of you to finally notice,” you said bitterly and with a roll of your eyes, you pushed into his shoulder on purpose as you walked past him, “But we’re all the same, aren’t we? Just some of us like to act all high and mighty because you leave home craving independence, ignoring your privilege to seem like better people.”

Jungkook felt the jab of your words but he let you walk past him without a rebuttal.

With a sense of frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect himself to rejoin High Society and finish the night with his head held high.

When Jungkook left his hotel the day of the Bachelor Party, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. Hoseok had done most of the planning for it since he had been abroad and when it comes to Hobi, you never know what to expect. It was almost two days of festivities and it was only toward the end that everyone would separate into their respective groups. That meant that once again he was forced into the same place as you.

The yacht sailed toward the private island the events would be at and as big as it was, he couldn’t escape you. There were the main group of friends that were always together and a few added guests, mostly Yeonwoo’s friends. Hoseok had already been hyping up the party tonight more than anything and everytime Namjoon would grow more worried. He didn’t need a big party thrown by his notorious womanizing friend.

“So what do the girls have planned?” Jungkook asked Namjoon as they sat at a table, looking at everyone aboard. Some people wore little clothing, others casual clothes, you wore something in between. It was casual yet attractive.

“ I don’t know, something probably calmer than what Hobi’s got for us,” Namjoon said but his friend had tuned him out after the first part, “Y/n planned it all and leant us the Yacht for the guests.”

“The yacht?” Jungkook asked, looking around at the luxury super yacht.

“14.7 million dollar yacht for Y/n’s birthday last year,” Namjoon explained to Jungkook, “She wanted a Booze Cruise.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff, “So Y/n got a yacht?”

“It comes in handy, doesn’t it?” A soft voice spoke from behind him and his breath hitched. You looked over to Namjoon, “Yeonie is looking for you.”

“The wife calls,” Namjoon said with a cheesy smile as he left you two behind.

“So, are you ready to go party with Hobi tonight?” You asked with a laugh, “I heard he’s got some former Miss Universe models coming in.”

“Oh, fun,” Jungkook said, slightly sarcastic.

“Kook, you’re not old enough to not like partying with models,” You teased making him look over at you. For a moment he wondered if what you said had a double meaning considering you were a model but he didn’t want to speak up about it.

“I’m sorry, I’m not a party animal,” Jungkook said truthfully, only a hint of joking as he looked around at the packed floor, “I think even this is too much.”

“Wow, how could you be a former Socialite if you don’t like partying?” You asked, “Is it all that time in the jungle or desert you spent alone that changed you?”

Jungkook could hear the sarcasm in your tone but he knew it wasn’t in an offensive way. He had backpacked to a small village in Indonesia for a few weeks before leaving to Nevada or Dubai—and he hated that you knew it all. He enjoyed traveling alone and experiencing things alone; he doesn’t need parties with too loud of music or too many drunks. He’s like Namjoon, they want to celebrate with their small group of friends rather than a party full of strangers who don’t even know what the occasion is.

“It might’ve,” Jungkook said, clearing his throat and checked the time.

You didn’t say much else after that and he got the impression that you grew bored talking to him. He looked at you still waiting to see if you would say something else but instead, you just looked off into the distance, not bothering to hide the sudden boredom you must have felt.

He’s sure he could have found something else to say to you but it was no use when he could see you beginning to slip away when you looked down at your cellphone with a bright smile. You didn’t utter out a goodbye as you left him behind to answer your phone, “Chimmy, I’ve missed you. How’s Morocco?”

“Warm,” Jimin said, “I’ve just finished a shoot and I believe I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Oh I won’t be home, remember?” You said as the final thing Jungkook was able to hear from you before you walked away.

Jungkook couldn’t help but look after you, thinking about who might’ve called you and how things were handled and he had to be honest, he was curious. He wasn’t attracted to you but he found you attractive… He thought you were charming and charismatic but not enough for him to want you, maybe…

The two of you just seem so different. He’s seen as the Black Sheep of the group, not because he’s not wealthy or attractive but because his past decisions have apparently been awful ones.

He was never one for parties so he wasn’t wild and defiant. He did make a declaration to leave all the money behind and pursue his dreams—something rich people were not allowed to do. Especially not if you were next in line to inherit it all like Jungkook was.

You are more free than he is and yet you like being in your bubble. You like the glamor and the responsibilities because unlike him, you know how to play both sides. Do your parents care that you’re out wasted at European raves or sailing on your yacht with a foreign prince? No, why? Because you know how to act like the innocent, perfect princess you’re supposed to be.

Jungkook can’t pretend that well. He can’t hide his tattoos or piercings or signs of nonconformity.

So, yes, he finds you attractive but he can’t let himself fall for you when he thinks you’re too different from each other. It just doesn’t stop his brain from thinking about you though.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked Taehyung who had been sandwiched between two women he couldn’t name.

Taehyung, evidently drunk, shook his head no, “Are you ready to confess your undying love for her?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, scoffing as he said, “Fuck off.”

All Taehyung did was laugh, making the girls he had his arms around laugh too and Jungkook left feeling annoyed. He was just curious to know where you were, that’s all. Namjoon and Yeonwoo are busy making their rounds, greeting and thanking everyone on the boat and his other friends were off doing their own things. He’s already spent too much time sulking by the railing, staring down at the dark blue water that he can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t want to drink to the point that he’s drunk so really, his last hope is you.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked as he went to the rooftop where Hoseok was sitting in a hot tub full of strangers. Hoseok looked like such an asshole [something Jungkook had permission to say] with his designer sunglasses and Vacheron Constantin watch, just barely above the water surface.

Hoseok barely glanced his way as he said, “I don’t know, check downstairs.”

That was all Jungkook needed to know before he was heading down to find you. It took a while of asking any person he passed by, where you might be and through all this, he couldn’t remember why he was looking for you in the first place.

He had no idea where he was going, he just found himself walking down what felt like endless corridors of rooms, following the directions of whatever housekeeper he could find. The boat really was big, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that this was a simple birthday present.

“Now, who do we have here?” You looked down the empty hallway toward the man in front of you. It pained you to see just how attractive Jeon Jungkook really was.

You have to admit, he really knows how to dress for occasions. The rare times he’s photographed in some news article, he’s dressed casually, clearly trying to hide from the public eye but now that he’s back it seems his fashion has picked up. He wore a striped black flannel Dolce & Gabbana shirt tucked into cream colored slacks, and matching velvet black slippers from their newest collection.

“I’m just… wandering,” Jungkook cleared his throat, whatever excuse he had made up earlier, completely out of mind, “What happened to your dress?”

A large red stain adorned the front of your pink dress from the chest down your torso. You looked down at the stain with a roll of your eyes, “Some stupid bitch worker. She’s off the boat tomorrow.”

Jungkook widened his eyes, feeling you brush past him and down the hall, “So you’re firing someone for spilling a drink?”

“Um, this is Valento? Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a stain like this?” You asked with a slight scoff as you went to the door straight at the end, pushing your key card in to open it, “It took the dry cleaners ages last time.”

“I didn’t take you as an Outfit Repeater to be worrying about things like that,” he stopped at the door, already looking around at what was evidently the master cabin. The water out the windows was a dark, midnight blue and it reflected into the room of silver and gray. It had a walk-in closet, and king sized bed with a view of the open water and a private deck. He didn’t dare go in and put himself in personal quarters with you.

You gasped, stopping your movements of rummaging through your closet to say, “I am an environmentalist.”

He couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not and he had to fight back a grin at how un-woke you sounded considering you were ruining the planet with a private yacht of this size.

You pulled out an off-white dress, a Jaquemus piece, ‘La Robe Artichaut’, “Ugh, after this week, I am firing a lot of people.”

“What happened this time?” Jungkook asked, leaning against the doorframe watching you, waiting for you to kick him out but you just went toward the windows overlooking the dark blue ocean. As much as you claimed to not get along, you talked like old friends.

You reached your hands toward your back, attempting to undo the back of your dress on your own, “I told my assistant not to pack anything close to white and she packs this dress? I swear people can’t do anything right.”

“If people ask just say you’re supposed to match me,” Jungkook said referring to his slacks, “Yeonie won’t be mad her Maid of Honor is wearing off-white.”

“I guess,” you sighed, letting go of your dress and not bothering to look back at him as you said, “Undo the back.”

Jungkook stood silently at the door, staring at you with dark eyes. The fabric of your dress was thin and soft to the touch—he could just tell with the way your figure had so effortlessly shaped the dress. It is a real pity you had to change out of it, he’ll admit that, but now he’s been asked—no, demanded—to help you to take it off.

He has no idea why you think you could just boss him around but this seems to have always been the case. The two of you were never close in the past but the very few times you would run into each other… as much as he hated it, there was always some sort of tension there.

With your back to him, you hadn’t seen the way he silently made his way across the room, shutting the door behind him as he went right to you. You could sense his presence behind you, see his reflection in the dark window and feel his rough fingers brush against your back.

“I meant to tell you, I like your shoes,” You said casually, his fingers beginning to work the knot that tied the ribbon of your dress, “My friend wore them in Paris just a week ago.”

“Friend?” Jungkook raised a brow curiously, his eyes trained slowly on the ribbon he was ever so slowly pulling loose. His gaze shifted to your reflection in the window as he pulled a little rougher than earlier, “Is this the one you’re always running off on the phone with?”

“You mean Park Jimin?” You asked, not bothering to react at all to his roughness or his speed, “Yes, him.”

You could feel Jungkook’s deep exhale as he pulled it as loose as he could while still being appropriate, “Are you seeing him?”

A mischievous smile couldn’t help but make its way to your face as you turned to face him, holding your arms around yourself modestly, “Is that what you wanted to talk about all along? You could have asked me earlier instead of spending who knows how long looking for me.”

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself agreeing with you, and with a tense jaw he asked again, “Well, are you?”

“I’m going to get changed,” you motioned toward the door, telling him to leave, “Unless you want to help me with that too.”

A scoff left his lips as he took a step back, annoyed that you wouldn’t just answer his question and annoyed he even cared enough to ask. What did it matter to Jungkook if you took a date? He wasn’t in a relationship with you and he barely considered you a friend.

When he wasn’t here and he was traveling, he was perfectly fine not knowing a thing about you aside from whatever article or magazine you appeared in. Why now that he returns and he sees how… glamorously beautiful you are, is he curious about you?

“And just so we’re clear, no, I’m not seeing Jimin,” You told him as he walked toward the door, stopping midway to listen to you, “Because I know it would make you jealous.”

To be honest, you didn’t think he would actually be jealous, it’s just a joke. Something about you just gets under Jungkook’s skin and it wants you to push his buttons that much more. As obvious as it was that he wasn’t at all amused by your sweetness, it was your arrogant charm that seemed to get him every time.

You knew you were beautiful, you knew you had every right to be arrogant and as much as Jungkook could deny he’s attracted to you at all, it’s very noticeable. You’ve never been told no a day in your life. You’ve never been rejected either and you know Jungkook wouldn’t dare reject you if you actually went for it.

Despite how vocal he is about his distaste toward you, you can’t help but still get giddy in his presence. You just want to rile him up and know that he’s attainable to you. You’ve always had a thing for him, he was an absolute gorgeous man and he was wealthy, extremely wealthy. He was educated and had class but at the same time he was rugged and intimidating. You’ve seen the small glimpses of ink on his knuckles and you just know that under all his long sleeves, he had more to show.

Whether you felt seriously for him or if you just figured it’s a spur of the moment situation, you want him.

“Jealous?” Jungkook attempted to scoff but the word caught in his throat with some truth to it, “Why would I be jealous?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, sliding the strap of your down your shoulder, “Because then you would have to share my attention with someone else.”

Jungkook knows he should leave. You had asked him to leave yet you kept going back and forth, and it was stopping him from doing so.

He should go.

He needs to go before he does or say something he’ll regret.

If he caves in to your taunts then he’ll be disappointed in himself, like part of him was allowing his return to his old lifestyle of luxury and privilege.

“Y/n, you always say things you don’t know,” Jungkook asked you with a deep voice that had you smiling, practically feeling him give in. His gaze was dark and there was no hiding the growing tension, “And you must think you’re real cute trying to act out now that we’re alone.”

“No, I know I am,” you said, not backing away from the eye contact. “And you know it too.”

“I don’t,” Jungkook loomed over you, eyes tracing down the curve of your nose and to the slight part in your lips, “I think… I think you’re…”

You blinked up at him, “Well say it, or are you too busy thinking about kissing me?”

An annoyed huff left his lips as one of his hands pulled you toward him at your waist and the other tilted your chin up until his lips were grazing over yours. You reached toward him, making the first real press of your mouths together and there was no use in acting like he hadn’t been in fact thinking about kissing you.

Jungkook let his eyes fall shut as yours did and he pulled you closer into his chest with the hand on your jaw sliding down toward the curve of your neck, making sure you didn’t pull away just yet. You kept up with the pace he had set of slow yet hungry kisses, pulling on your lips or letting his tongue slide against yours tenderly.

“Well?” You gasped feeling his soft lips kiss along your jaw, his soft black hair brushing against your face, a light scent of his shampoo or cologne that left you feeling intoxicated. The hand he had on your waist tightened at your words, pulling away with a quiet grunt, he looked you in the eye.

“Don’t ask me any more questions,” Jungkook groaned, the taste of your lips still on his tongue and there was a light sheen of gloss coating his lips from yours.

It’s shameful for him to admit how easy it was for you to break him down into every other man who seems to fall at your feet when given the chance. This is exactly what he didn’t want and now he’s pulling the godforsaken stained dress he undid and watching it slip down your body, revealing your naked form to his hungry eyes.

Above your bedroom was a deck filled with people celebrating the soon-to-be newlyweds while the Best Man and Maid of Honor are in the master cabin, half undressed, and stumbling onto the bed.

Jungkook was gentle but firm, he wasted no time popping the buttons of his shirt open, exposing the toned muscles of his body and the ink covering most of his arm. Your eyes scanned the markings, surprise and wonder evident on your face with how well he managed to hide how much he’s gotten done since he left.

“Surprised?” Jungkook asked, eyes low when your hands ran over his slacks, pulling at his belt and nails lightly scratching at his abdomen. His voice dripped with arousal when you sat up from beneath him, pressing light butterfly kisses to his abs and tattoos.

“You always surprise me,” You admitted, not as teasing as before but with a hint of playfulness still there. You looked up from his chest, the height of your sitting form and his standing one looked endless as he towered over you. “For instance, I didn’t think it would be this easy to get you in my bed.”

You kissed along his neck now, sitting on your knees to reach him better and nipping at his sensitive spots. His hand tightened around the neck of your head, not pulling your hair but definitely getting your eyes on his, “Why do your words sound so dirty when you say them so… “

Jungkook couldn’t even finish his sentence before succumbing to you once more and kissing your lips. With little force applied, he was laying you back down on the bed with his tattooed and muscular body just melting into yours effortlessly. With one hand on your neck and the other sliding down to the curve of your thigh, it felt like he was all over you.

“Let’s take this off you,” Jungkook murmured between kisses down your neck as he began to finally take off the ruined dress that had been in his way since you got him to undo it in the first place, “You’ve been teasing me with this since earlier.”

“Maybe because I wanted to see you get worked up,” you sighed as you made yourself comfortable on the king side bed, your body slowly unveiled to his hungry eyes. Once he had pulled the dress off you completely and threw it to the side, sitting up between your spread legs and staring.

Jungkook didn’t bother with discreteness as he eyed down your naked body still in shock that he was seeing it before him. Your breasts were on full display and the only piece of fabric hiding you was a thin lace underwear that felt so nimble and soft under his fingertips, so easy for him to just tear off of you. You looked gorgeous laying so pliantly underneath him and he couldn’t help but let his hands slide down from your bent knees to your inner thighs.

“Did it work?” You asked just above a whisper as he hovered over you, leaving needy kisses between your breasts while he tugged at the hem of your panties until he was sliding them down your legs.

“It really fucking worked,” Jungkook groaned as he cupped your boobs in his hands, letting his tongue lick at your pert nipples and feeling the way they stiffened underneath him. Your hands went to his hair, legs nearly wrapping around his torso when you felt his teeth lightly press into your nipple, sucking and tugging when needed.

His kisses began to run down toward your navel with his hands replacing his lips and kneading your breasts in the palm of them while he moved down to lay between your legs, “I want a taste, pretty girl.”

“Then get one,” you said in a whiny tone that had his big rounded eyes turning to look at you with surprise. A knowing smirk falling on his lips as he lifted your knees and pulled your thighs apart as far as they could go until he was eye level with your pretty cunt. Jungkook was never one to stop and tease when he needed sex, he had a tendency to get a little rough and take what he wants but it’s so hard to move it along when he’s met with the sight of you laying so pretty for him. He could tell your patience was running thin with how long he was taking to do anything and just before he felt you close to snapping at him, he leaned into you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped in surprise with the sudden swipe at your clit by Jungkook’a flattened, long tongue and you’ll admit it caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You couldn’t see the way he smiled as his hands circled around your thighs, repeating his teasing flick of his tongue, feeling the way your folds began to react to him.

He felt your fingers run through his soft hair for anchor and for some reason that slight grip you had on him had his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let himself get lost in the taste of your pussy. No longer up for any sense of teasing, Jungkook lets his mouth fall open, kissing your wet heat with his tongue pressing between your folds and finding your clit. Your hips were slowly bucking into his face, showing him just how much you liked his tongue and he knew just what to do to have you coming undone underneath him.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, his lips wrapped around the hard bud while his tongue swiped against the tip of it. He began a repetition of that and grazing his teeth ever so softly against your sensitive folds knowing he found your weak spot when he sucked your labia into his mouth and had your soft moans filling the cabin.

“Jungkook,” you moaned softly, fingers tugging at his hair roughly, “Oh god.”

He didn’t dare pull his mouth off you to give you a response and instead let his actions grow rougher. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and slipped it down to your pussy where he let his finger begin to draw patterns into your labia, so close to your entrance that he could feel your arousal quite literally leak out of you.

Your body was filled by pleasure that Jungkook was bringing you and you couldn’t help but bring your free hand to your neglected chest, trying to fill the void that Jungkook’s hand had left as you groped your breasts. Jungkook looked up completely enamored with the way you played with yourself while he ate you out and without any second thoughts, he pressed his long middle finger into your waiting cunt.

“That’s it,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss along your pelvis, “Cum for me, darling.”

“Jungkook,” you whined as he pushed a second finger in, hooking them upwardward just past your pubic bone and finding that soft, spongy spot with ease. With the way your walls fluttered around his fingers, he knew you were close and all it took was his lips around your clit while thrusting into that pleasure spot of yours, for you to wrap your legs around his shoulders and shake with release, “Oh my god.”

“Mm,” Jungkook groaned with pleasure, feeling your arousal flood his fingers in your release. He looked down at his wet hand, bringing it to his lips where he licked off the release that threatened to drip down his forearm, “Sweet.”

You looked like a mess trying to catch your breath and come to understand what had just happened between you to think too long about the fact that he was pressing his fingers into your waiting mouth till you licked your own release off him. He lifted a brow as your tongue circled around his fingers while sucking on them with your cheeks hollowed in. It had his breath hitching, trying to pull his fingers back out before he came just from that and began to pull at his own pants.

“Condom?” He asked in an unusually low and raspy tone. You blinked, “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”

He didn’t press for more as he kicked his slacks and briefs off, hard cock pointed up stiffly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You wanted to wrap your lips around him and take him deep in your mouth because his dick was surprisingly so fucking pretty you just needed it desperately.

With your mind decided, you attempted to sit up when he pushed you back down, cock in his hand as he gave himself a couple strokes to relieve some tension and pulled your legs apart, “I need you now.”

“Impatient, are we?” You asked with a laugh, making yourself relax when you felt his cock head brush against your exposed clit. Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to what you said as much as he was to the way his mushroom tip fit perfectly between your folds.

A soft gasp left your lips as he pushed it against your clit, playing with your labia and letting the clear liquid that dripped out of his tip, coat your clit.

“Fuck,” Jungkook took a deep breath as his cock nearly slipped inside of you, playing with your earlier release to cover his length in it, “Such a pretty pussy.”

With an annoyed roll of your eyes, you grew tired of his teasing and with a quick hook of your leg around his slim waist, you pushed his cock into you eliciting a deep groan [almost growl] to slip from his lips, “Fucking hell, Y/n.”

“You were taking too long,” you moaned, legs falling back again as you tried to ease the slight pain that came from his thick member entering your tight walls. Jungkook’s hair was brushing against your face as he looked down at the way you took him in, “I was trying to be gentle.”

“Did I ask you to be?” You asked with a scoff. Jungkook rolled his eyes, spreading his legs further apart and digging his knees into the bed for support as he covered you with his body, laying down to plant a quick kiss to your lips. “Brat.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” your manicured nails traced down his back until your hands were under his thighs as if ready to make him move on your own, “Are you going to fuck me yet?”

He couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief, an amused smile on his face and without saying a word, he pulled out until on his tip was past your ring of nerves, and suddenly pushed back in. Your lips fell open in a silent gasp as your eyes locked with his and he smirked.

“You need it that bad?” Jungkook asked as he pulled your legs up, pressing them toward your chest and holding them down with his arms as he kissed your neck, dragging his cock back out, “How bad?”

“Jungkook,” you groaned, trying to move your hips but in this position it was useless, “Start moving.”

“Make me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, slowly sliding himself back in just a little. You rolled your eyes, moving your hand to hide your face as you felt yourself getting annoyed.

Jungkook was smiling like this was all just so amusing to him and with his lip pulled between his teeth, he thrusted in with little restraint, starting a slow yet steady rhythm, “Don’t hide your face, darling. I wanna see the Y/n L/n moaning for me.”

“Fuck you,” you shook your head feeling your pussy tighten around him with your legs pulled to your chest unable to escape his thrusts that were becoming more rough by the second.

“Come on darling, you can do it,” Jungkook groaned, feeling like he was on cloud 9 from the way your pussy took him in. He doesn’t know how to explain it but he felt really fucking good right now. He’s not sure if it’s that he hasn’t had sex in a while, or if it had something to do with the fact that it was you, but he was fucking you with all his energy, letting himself relax and just feel good in the moment.

“Jungkook,” you moaned his name, hand slipping from your face so you could wrap it around his neck, “Kiss me.”

“Kiss?” He asked, out of breath as his rhythm faltered and without thinking, he let go of your legs and let them fall back onto the bed as he tilted your chin up with a hand to kiss you. He set his other hand down on the bed for support, getting lost between your lips and your tight pussy.

Jungkook’s tongue licked against yours swallowing your moans, “Y/n, it’s s’good.”

“Mhm,” you circled your legs around him, “Fuck.”

Jungkook kissed down your neck, hands sneaking down to your waist and with one swift movement, rolled onto his back with you on top. He needed a change of pace because if he kept going, he would cum sooner than he wanted to and he needed you to cum one more time for him so if that meant letting you get in top, he would.

And it had been such a good idea because the sight of you sitting on his cock, leaning back and placing your hands on his thighs instead of chest, made him more excited. Your knees dug into the bed and with your fingers scratching at his muscular thighs and raised your hips, lifting yourself off his cock before plunging him back in.

“Fucking hell,” Jungkook groaned throwing his head back into the pillows, a hand on your hip but not daring to take control, “That’s it darling, fuck yourself on my cock.”

“Jungkook,” the new position was having him reach newer parts inside you that had your thighs shaking, “I’m so close.”

“Take it,” Jungkook growled, holding you in place as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck up into you, “Take my fucking dick, fuck.”

“Oh my god,” you fell forward, hands scratching at his chest, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “I—I can’t. Jungkook, baby, oh my—“

“Take it,” he groaned, grabbing your hips harshly and moving once again so he was on top, thrusting into you despite how hard it was getting to pull out of your tight walls, “Take it.”

“I—I,” your lips fell open in a loud cry, pinching his biceps for stability, and felt your walls come undone. For the second time in less than hour, your orgasm hit you hard. Jungkook released a string of grunts, feeling your pussy convulse around him and his cock was greeted with a flood of warmth that had his legs shaking, trying to support him but he couldn’t take it. He barely had time to slip out before he was letting go, his cum dribbling down to your thighs as he let out one final moan of your name.

His body seemed to collapse down next to yours, panting and out of breath, “Fuck.”

The two of you were a mess, sweaty and sore and all you wanted to do was lay down and possibly sleep but where you were did not go past you unnoticed. You searched around for your cellphone, knowing you set it down somewhere before trying to change and found it on your nightstand with six missed calls from the Bride-To-Be.

Jungkook took a deep breath, sitting up and looking down at the mess the two of you made on the bed. He got up, not bothering with covering himself up as he found a towel and tried cleaning himself off with it while you got on your phone.

“Duty calls,” you joked with a sigh as he came to your side and began to wipe down your thighs. Yeonwoo sent you a dozen messages talking about a midlife crisis of some sorts. You sat up carefully, thanking him for handing you your robe and you slipped it on.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked with an awkward clear of his throat as he began putting on his clothes again. He’ll admit he was taking his time getting dressed and you left to the bathroom to freshen up.

“I don’t know, something with the gift boxes for everyone. I think Yeonie’s assistant forgot them,” you told him as you found new underwear to wear, making sure you were cleaned before putting them on. You left the door to the bathroom open to talk to him but you still changed into the white Jacquemus dress from earlier.

You walked up to him and he got the memo about zipping your back up and this time he couldn’t help but lean down to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, “Are you going up yet?”

“I’m gonna touch up my makeup first,” you told him honestly, “You go ahead.”

When Jungkook reached upstairs again, finding the party just as he left it earlier, it’s like nobody noticed he had even left for so long. They were all too focused on your new dress — which Yeonwoo absolutely adored on you. He found a glass of champagne and tried to escape from the swarm of people trying to hold a conversation with him when he wasn’t thinking clearly at all.

Unfortunately for the two of you, the matching off-white shade of your clothing and the sudden mark on his neck wasn’t lost on anyone else. Soon, pictures from every angle possible would paint a story neither of you wanted.

There was a sense of guilt that came with disassociating yourself from your best friend’s wedding plans. Jungkook could barely remember what they had done once they got to the island after a surprising night of visiting your cabin.

He hasn’t had an actual conversation with you since that night and he has to be honest and say, he barely remembers the actual wedding. He hadn’t seen you since the yacht before being dragged away by Hoseok the following day to do some activities for Namjoon’s groomsmen. You had gone to do your Maid of Honor duties and he’s felt out-of-loop since.

The entire day had been packed with things to do and he’s aware he looked dashing in every photo the photographers took of him in his 12,000$ Kiton suit. The matching suits they all wore made the groomsmen look classy and cohesive while the Balmain dresses the bridesmaids wore made them elegant and surreal—well at least for you.

That’s what he thinks is the problem.

His best friends got married and yet all he was able to think about was you. It didn’t help that despite the wedding being on a private island, there was still press everywhere, capturing every angle of this beautiful matrimony between nepo babies.

The reception had been filled with various questions from various interviewers that left all your shared friends staring at you suspiciously—especially when questions of the hickey on his neck came forward.

As awful as it sounded considering the 46 million dollar wedding in the mountains of an island was stunning, he could barely remember half of what hadn’t been photographed. He left the day after the wedding with an excuse that he had things to take care of where he’s currently at and his friends bid him farewell.

He got to the mainland a day before the others and it gave him time to return home before he left on another voyage alone.

“How was the wedding?” His older brother asked, swinging his mallet just slightly, trying to find his nail before shooting the ball through the hoop, “I can't believe I was caught up in meetings all week in Tokyo.”

Jungkook looked oddly bright today compared to how he felt and he didn’t want to say it was because his casual and boring clothes he wore abroad stuck out here in ways he didn’t like. That’s why today—his last day home—he visited his family’s 150 acre estate for a game of Croquet and possibly tennis, wearing a matcha colored Loro Piana cashmere polo with short sleeves.

“Um, it was great,” Jungkook said as he brought his cigarette to his lips and lighting the end before inhaling.

“That’s it?” JungHyun asked with a scoff as he motioned for Jungkook to take his turn and he took his brother’s cigarette, “Did you have an orgy with any models or were you your usual gentleman self that won the crowd against me?”

His older brother had been well known in his younger days for many reasons, his partying, his charm, his youth and education. When he was in his mid twenties, you could always catch him in some article their parents tried taking down in regards to driving under the influence or insulting a server. Unlike Jungkook who preferred a quiet life he could escape to, his brother did not and now he’s some big shot finance guy because his attitude growing up had ruined his chance of inheriting everything from their grandparents. Now it will all go to Jungkook—something they’re all aware of—and maybe that’s why JungHyun makes snide remarks here and there.

He’s not asking about the wedding because he’s curious, he’s bitter that despite his perfect appearance and Jungkook’s more intimidating kind, Jungkook was still the most well-mannered of the two and therefore the favorite—if only he stayed and fulfilled his duties.

“No orgy,” Jungkook said with a hint of disgust as he finished his round of the game, one step closer to winning, “Just Y/n.”

JungHyun had been mid-swing when he mentioned you and his aim went astray making him miss the next ring, “What do you mean just Y/n?”

“I slept with her—“

A loud and annoying laugh cut him off as JungHyun let his mallet go, “Ah, so you can’t remember the events of your best friend’s wedding because you were too busy sleeping with the nation’s sweetheart? Oh I cannot wait till father hears about this, maybe your wedding is next and then you’ll finally step up to the plate.”

Jungkook scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means now that you’re back, and dating the richest girl in the country, there’s no way Father won’t hand you down the company now,” JungHyun said bitterly, “And everyone said you running away would be a bad thing, but clearly it’s reminded you of who you are.”

“I’m not… I’m not staying,” Jungkook said, “I leave tomorrow but I wanted to see you all. And Y/n and I aren’t going to date, it was a… um.”

“Mistake?” JungHyun asked, “Jungkook, don’t be an idiot. You’ve been obsessed with her for years.”

“I have not.”

“You have, you just don’t want to admit that all your talk about being independent and leaving the money behind to be free was complete bullshit,” JungHyun said with a scoff, “Or why would you mess around with her of all people. A relationship with Y/n is going to put you at the top once again and there’s nothing that won’t be handed to you—and she’s someone mother would approve.”

“You’re dramatic,” Jungkook huffed, “One night doesn’t mean we’re dating or getting married or any of that other shit. I still don’t want to run the business… I just want, I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you never know what you want,” JungHyun said, “But whatever, if you’re set on running away again, so be it. I’m tired of trying to make you see how you blindly follow along with everything you seem to hate.”

“Master, your wife is on line three and she’s wondering who is picking up the kids.”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” JungHyun groaned, annoyed and no longer interested in talking to his little brother, “The driver?”

Jungkook watched his brother leave him behind and with a defeated sigh, he left.

“So are you leaving?” Youngi asked him as he watched the bubbles in his pink champagne, “Or have you changed your mind?”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” Jungkook said stiffly as he fixed the suit jacket he was currently getting fit into, “I’m just postponing my leave but I have a few things to take care of here.”

“Like with you and Y/n?” Youngi asked, making sure the fitting room at Dolce & Gabbana was empty aside from just them two. Jungkook didn’t even flinch at the mention of you. Since the two arrived at this store his vision has been filled with large framed photos of you and your dear friend Park Jimin all over the store. Apparently you were one of the brand’s favorite Ambassadors and they made it known you modeled their products. Right now he’s facing the mirror with a picture of you modeling a satin baldonétte bra and high waisted panties. You looked beautiful and seductive and its been hard for him to not just stare at all your pictures since he got here. Now Yoongi is attempting to bring you up and he refuses to give in to the extent his relationship with you has gone.

You haven’t even spoken since the wedding and even that had just been an exchange of pleasantries and no real depth to either of your words.

“No, with my father,” Jungkook said stiffly as he shrugged off the suit jacket and called in the stylist to find something else. Yoongi sat up in his seat slightly more interested, “Really? About what? Don’t tell me you're back in the running.”

“We're going to discuss it,” Jungkook mumbled to himself.

He wanted to make one thing clear, his decision to seek out his father and work out some sort of plan where he can get back into the job he had been assigned to do, while also having freedom had absolutely nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re here, and he’s interested in you, and that it would be his parent’s dream for him to stay and be in a relationship with you and also take over the business finally…

This was his decision because his brother’s right. He can't just keep running away.

“And what do you mean, with Y/n?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced up at your five foot photo framed above the mirror, remembering the shape of your body against his, moaning his name and tightening your walls around him.

“Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Youngi asked as he got on his phone, “It seems as though you have competition.”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told more as he took Yoongi’s phone from his outstretched hand and read what was on the screen with furrowed brows.

At the end of the article, in big, fat letters, the conclusion said: ‘Now the question is, will L/n choose the best friend, Park Jimin, or the elegant and influential Best Man, Jeon Jungkook—possibly as the country’s newest IT couple?’

When he gave Yoongi his phone back, there was no denying the sudden irritation that contorted his features. It’s not like he expected this to not happen but… he doesn’t like what they’re implying. Yoongi studied him closely to see if he would get a response, but Jungkook gave nothing away. Instead he just ordered the tailor to pack the two suits he tried on so he could buy both, “I’ll meet you out there.”

Yoongi left Jungkook to get changed and while he stood alone in the fitting room staring up at your boudoir photos framed around him, he took his phone and dialed your number.

“Hello?” Your end of the call sounded hectic, louder and busier than his did. You were in the middle of an interview for Vogue and were taking a short break. It seemed like he called at just the right time since you were getting your makeup touched up.

“Are you busy?” Jungkook asked with a sharp tone that fell on deaf ears when the call went silent for a moment. He really did admire the photo of you, remembering just what it was like to trace his hands along your figure.

“Who is this?” You finally asked, making his jaw clench slightly.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh you see, I wouldn’t have known that considering you didn’t even say a hello or anything,” You told him in a sarcastic tone that made him want to smile but also roll his eyes, “Besides, I am busy.”

As if on cue, the call of your name in the background made your claim concrete. He bit his lip in thought, wondering what it was you were doing and how long it would take, “When can I see you?”

A smile played on your lips as you held up a finger to your assistant who was trying to hurry you along, “Did you make an appointment with my assistant?”

He couldn’t help but scoff as his gaze turned toward a glare, practically imagining that picture of you smiling at him, “I didn’t know I needed one, darling. When can I schedule one?”

“I’m not sure, i'll let you know,” you said and before Jungkook could respond, the call ended and he was left in shock that you just hung up on him. He gathered his things and met Yoongi outside to pay, completely bewildered by the fact that you just hung up on him so easily. He knows you haven’t spoken since the night of the wedding where you were forced to speak but this is all he gets?

“What took you so long?” Yoongi asked as they left Dolce & Gabbana with new things.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: Appointment scheduled for, 6:30 pm today, L/n Residence @ the Northbrook Estates

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the confirmation of an appointed meeting with you tonight.

The night on the yacht had been unexpected yet also long-awaited and now that its done with, neither of you seemed to know what to do about it. You wont lie and say you didn’t enjoy that moment with him but you were also realistic. You and Jungkook would just never work out, you’re too different on the outside and that’s why you’re so confused now as to why he called you.

“So, Y/n, its been a busy season for you this year,” an interviewer said as the camera zoomed in on your expression as they continued, “Not only did you walk thirteen shows but I hear you also celebrated your close friends wedding. How was that? You must have been exhausted.”

“You know it was a lot but it was exciting, I hold my friends dearly and I’m just thankful I was able to make time for such an event,” you said and you’ll admit your response sounded scripted. You didn’t dive too deeply which is what you’re sure the interviewer wanted. You should have known that this stupid interview wouldn’t just be about your newly established modeling career.

Whether you’ve become Model of the Year for your catwalk, or for nepotism, you didn’t are much either way. All you cared about was the fact that the interviewer has found a way to slip in questions they didn’t need to know. It’s like you can just sense the things they’ll ask and have already prepared and calculated the exact responses you need to give.

“Of course, and what a star-studded party,” the interviewer continued, “The Best Man being Jeon Jungkook must have been exciting for you.”

“Well, we’ve all known each other for a long time now so…” You cleared your throat, looking a bit disinterested.

“Yes, of course,” the interviewer said with a nervous laugh, “And pardon me, Y/n, but I just have to ask, did anything happen between the two of you on this very intimate trip?”

Your smile strained but you never looked anything less than sweet as you said, “We are all just very close friends. Most of them have supported me in modeling.”

It was a clear attempt on your part to direct the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about. She ignored your last comment and said, “So… I guess we’re all curious, some pictures from the parties were released of the two of you awfully close in certain open waters, and an evident hickey on his neck—not to mention the matching clothes, please, is there something between you and the heir of Jeon Corporation?”

“Nothing that should concern you, no,” you smiled sweetly and the interviewer seemed to freeze up, unsure if she had gone too far in her questions.

Silence filled the space around them and there was no way to cut these parts out since it was a video shoot and after a while of the interviewer struggling to find which questions to ask, a person who worked for you stepped forward, “How about another short break?”

The interviewer released a shaky breath while the both of you made your way off camera and your glam team was quick to touch up your hair and makeup as the director of the shoot approached you, “Y/n darling, how are we feeling?”

“Annoyed,” you answered honestly, “I thought this was supposed to be about my modeling.”

“You’re absolutely right, darling, we apologize for any mistake we’ve done on our part, I—She must have taken it as an opportunity to ask her own questions and I promise you, we will have a deep conversation about this. We aren’t TMZ…” the director said and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m done filming if she’ll be the one continuing the interview,” You told him as you began to walk away from him, not caring for the excuses or whatever and you can hear your publicist repeat your words to him.

It wasn’t even that she was bad at her job or that she asked anything too deep but she just quickly got on your bad side with her persistence to not let the subject drop.

In the end you got your wish and filming ended smoothly before you were driven away to whatever was next in your schedule, trying not to think about the interview or the fact that there was a chance you would be seeing Jungkook later.

Things are evidently strange between you two and its not like you’ve been blind to the articles or posts about you but you don’t want to address anything. That night on the yacht seems like a fluke and like it shouldn’t have happened at all despite how you felt in the moment. Your parents aren’t the type to be invested in what is put in the tabloids but when their lifelong, country club going, friends call them and ask if there’s anything between you and Jeon Corporation’s Jungkook, they’re going to want answers.

It was just one night, one night where the two of you put aside whatever indifference you had toward each other just so you could release tension and this is the consequence for that. Of course everyone would want to know and of course no one was able to turn a blind eye to you. Even Yeonwoo managed to ask what you had been doing in the cabins withJungkook or so long that night and even when you tried to ignore her she kept pressing you for an answer.

In truth you had nothing to say. You were both adults and it didn’t matter if anyone else was dying to know if there was anything going on between you.

You resented each other.

You had sex.

Plus, he’s going to leave soon and you don’t think that bothers you?

When your driver pulled up to the tall skyscraper you called home, you headed inside alone.

“Good evening, Miss L/n,” the lobbyist held the door open for you, “You have a visitor waiting in the lobby.”

Your brows furrowed, checking the time before heading to the library where sure enough, Jeon Jungkook was sitting by the fireplace reading whatever magazine was set out for him. At the sound of your Miu Miu kitten heels, he turned staring at you with his big rounded eyes being the only thing you could see beside his face mask, “You’re early.”

Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist as he pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting and you did the same, he joined you in the elevator and said, “I like to get to my appointments early.”

“You’re lucky my shoot ended early or else you might have had to wait outside like a dog,” you teased as you pushed the button for the top floor where your penthouse was located. As part of the infinite amount of wealth your family has, you also dabble in real estate, mostly in the country as luxury apartments but you do have some homes overseas: Paris, New York, Argentina, etc.

The place you call home is a top floor penthouse with terrace and rooftop. The floor in which it was located was completely shut off for just you and included a private gym, yoga studio, three walk-in closets, and on top of that an elevator parking garage with a Mary Kay Pink Rolls Royce sitting pretty inside it.

Jungkook has never stepped foot in your home before and it was overwhelmingly stunning with four bedrooms, two living rooms (one on the top floor and one on the main floor too), an open kitchen, poolside terrace, and five bathrooms. You lived in ultimate modern luxury with traditional themes throughout the home like its hand carved wooden furniture and expensive marble walls.

“Is this different from your little magic treehouse in the woods you ran off to?” You asked, tempted to push his buttons as you removed your coat and handed it to your housekeeper who waited at the door.

“Well, considering my magic treehouse is worth 2.6 million dollars, no I wouldn’t consider this that different from it,” Jungkook couldn’t help but boast, feeling like he’s competing. It’s like when he was in school and the students would brag about whatever exotic trip they got to go in the summer and he would have to make sure to tell them what he did was better. “Maybe I’ll bring you with someday.”

Fuck. Why did he say that? Why is he indulging in any of this in the first place? You and Jungkook should never be together, right?

“Speaking of which, I thought you would have ran off now that the wedding is over,” You said as you mumbled something to the housekeeper making her leave, “Drink?”

“Water is fine,” Jungkook said as he made his way down to your 70’s inspired talking pit of suede Anabei sectional couches, “And I thought I would have been gone by now too”

“What changed?” You skied curiously, “Don’t tell me it's because you would miss me.”

You held your hand to your chest as if to seem touched by the thought and Jungkook just rolled his eyes as you continued, “How would all the other girls feel knowing I’m keeping you here?”

Jungkook scoffed as he practically pushed your legs off his lap, “Can you not joke for just one second?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if part of you felt confused wondering if this was supposed to be a serious moment or not. Jungkook huffed, running his fingers through his black hair, “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you about all those articles. My parents are working on taking those down, are you okay?”

Your eyebrows knitted together with confusion, “Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’ve never seen anything bad written about you and suddenly you’re being painted as a two-timer by spending a night with me while also… doing whatever it is you do with that friend of yours.” He was not jealous. He swears.

To be clear, there really is nothing going on with you and Jimin. You’re just two friends in the modeling world who happen to like attending secret parties together and maybe making out drunkenly every now and then. That’s it. You’ve never slept with him and Jimin has too many girls on his line for you to ever consider him.

“I’ll survive,” You mumbled as you looked over at him, seeing him in deep thought.

“I’m thinking of staying a while longer,” Jungkook said suddenly with a clear of his throat.

Jungkook was not the shy type and to be honest he’s not even sure why he’s letting you know [as if it made a difference] but the words just slipped out.

He did not like you.

Well, he didn’t like you like that. It sounds harsh he’s well aware of that but he was never romantically attracted to you before so how is he going to suddenly feel that way after only a week in contact again. Maybe it was just unresolved sexual tension after years of feeling that way but that can’t be the only thing that’s making him want to revert back to what his life was like before he left to live on his own.

He escaped all this so that he could live somewhere quietly and do what he really wanted to do without worrying about anything else. Now he’s contemplating moving back and possibly involving himself with his father’s business again. Too much is going on for him to understand why.

“For how long?” you asked as your fingers began to softly run through the ends of his hair making him look at you. You couldn’t hide your curiosity and how close the two of you are.

When he had pulled you down to sit with him, it was with your legs thrown over his lap which he had been caressing every now and then.

An arrogant smirk formed on his lips as he licked them, tapping your calf lightly, “How long do you want me here?”

Fuck, Jungkook is staying to get back in business… not for you.

It’s not for you.

It’s not for yo—

His breath hitched as a sudden weight shifted to his lap, his hands immediately went to your waist, helping you get comfortable on him. It’s embarrassing the way Jungkook didn’t hesitate to reach for you when you sat on his lap feeling your arms thrown around his neck, “Here as in…”

You looked down at the short skirt you wore which rolled up a little from how your legs straddled his thighs and said, “Under me?”

A scoff in disbelief left his lips as he couldn’t help but laugh, sliding your hips closer, “Yeah.”

It was attractive the way your conversations never seemed to fall unless you wanted them to. It was a constant cat and mouse game, banter back and forth and he catches on quickly.

You couldn’t help it, okay. Anytime you would see pictures of Jungkook since he left, he was always in a hoodie and sweats or something that just hid his entire body. Right now he’s wearing this Christian Dior white button-up shirt [which he rolled the sleeves up at some point since he got here] and it was messily untucking from his black slacks and he looks so hot right now. His hair was messy in a sexy way and he looked just like he used to, except this time with tattoos and a different sense of maturity.

Without wasting another moment debating if you should or shouldn’t, you leaned down and kissed him. Jungkook’s lips parted against yours, stretching his neck to kiss you with more need. Unlike the first night you kissed, this one wasn’t as rushed and angry. He took his time longer, pulling your bottom lip between his and doing it over again.

You pressed your chest against his, with your tongue swiping against his lip teasingly until you met his. Jungkook’s hands pinched the satin fabric of your skirt, feeling it tighten and rise, unable to stop the growing desire he was feeling for you. His briefs were getting tighter every time you shifted on his lap and whatever he had been thinking before you started making out.

“You want to play?” He asked, shifting his head to deepen the kiss without bumping noses. You pulled away feeling desperate to catch your breath as his kisses began to travel down toward your exposed neck, licking and nipping under your jaw while beginning to make

“Maybe,” you sighed in pleasure, running your hands through his hair when you felt him kiss down your collarbone, closer and closer down the deep-v in your Miu Miu chiffon top. The strap to your shirt slipped down your shoulder as Jungkook’s rough fingers traced down the side of your arms.

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to go back to kiss your lips as you felt his growing erection press into you. It was hard for him to ignore the fact that the only thing covering what was under your skirt was a flimsy, thin piece of lace he shifted you closer until his bulge was tucked between your legs, placing your hips right over where he wanted them to be. Now that he moved you, his outline was more evident and had you grinding along him.

Jungkook released a groan with a sharp breath once he felt that sudden move and he couldn’t help but buck his hips against you, feeling the fabric of his briefs constrict his hardened cock. It was a frustrating feeling yet he felt so eager with his tongue down your throat and his covered dick tucked nicely between your covered folds that he couldn’t even think to stop and remove the layers.

His lips were feeling swollen against yours yet he didn’t want to pull away, the friction he was getting from the way you humped him was turning him on with how needy it felt. You kissed along his jaw, grinding against his aching dick while your nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt.

“God damn,” Jungkook groaned as he threw his head back, relishing in the way your hips moved expertly against him while kissing down his naked chest. He slid his ass down your back, stopping over your butt and pulling your skirt out of the way for him to get a better feel of you underneath. With firm hands, he turned your sensual grinding into harsher and more deep movements that he met with his hips.

He’s not sure he could take just this any longer. Anytime he’s with you now it’s like he can’t do anything but fall for you and despite how annoying it is, he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, he welcomes it and right now all he wants to do and rip off the remaining layers between you so he could have your legs wrapped around him once more. It’s only been days since the first time and he has not been able to stop thinking about it.

The day of the wedding he had been so distracted by you that he barely remembers any of it and now his best friends are on their honeymoon and he’s here thinking about you again.

Giving up on arguing how much he wants to have you, he wanted to get your clothes off and you were letting him. His hands had barely made it to the end of your top, ready to pull it off, when a loud ringtone cut through the living room, echoing off the walls and hard to ignore. The two of you looked at each other confused.

He sat up, reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone, annoyed that someone had thought to call him.

“Answer,” you said breathlessly as you looked at the caller, already sliding yourself off his lap.

“It’s just Hobi,” Jungkook said, letting out a huff in annoyance as he set his phone back down, turning to kiss you but it rang once again. Your eyes met his and he begrudgingly grabbed his phone and swiped to answer, “Hello?”

“Hey man, I just got off the phone with your Yoongi,” Hoseok said as he sat in a large closet filled with designer clothes, “And why am I always the last to know if you’re leaving or not?”

“What?” Jungkook looked visibly annoyed with his scrunched brows and tense jaw and for some reason that made him hotter to you. His shirt was undone completely and his belt was halfway pulled off and with his legs spread, it was very hard to ignore his hard on.

Your eyes softened with curiosity and you couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you decided to just go for it. First, your hand rested on his thigh as he listened to whatever Hoseok said, but slowly you made your way toward his bulge.

“You’re gonna start working with your dad again?” Hoseok asked, unaware of the way Jungkook’s attention had drifted down to the palm of your hand, right over his dick. Your fingers pressed against the underside of his member, massaging your palm into it and feeling the way his hips raised. “What happened to not caring about the money and the company and all that blah blah blah?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but roll his eyes, snapping back to his friend instead of what was going on. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, tightening their grip as if in warning. It was a useless attempt considering he tried helping you pull his belt off and saying, “Come on man, it was never like that.”

He could hear his own tone falter somewhere between lying and having his cock free from the confines of his tight briefs with your hand feeling him.

Hoseok laughed, debating what suit he should wear, “No, it’s exactly like that.”

Jungkook’s hand went to your head, softly caressing you as you kissed down his navel, your hand wet with spit, jerking him off while licking just above his dick. He didn’t bother with a response to his friend as he continued speaking anyway, “Is it true you and our princess are messing around? It’s all over the tabloids.”

Sarcasm was evident in Hoseok’s tone but Jungkook was too focused on your tongue licking up the length of his hard cock, wetting it with spit that made your hand movements smoother.

“Look I get it, you’ve had all this tension something was bound to happen but damn, why didn’t you tell me that either?” Hoseok asked with evident shock, unaware of the blowjob his friend was receiving on the other end. Your lips were wrapped tightly around his length and with your hand too, it was hard for Jungkook to keep his reactions to a minimum.

“Hobi, I—I, yknow I just,” Jungkook cleared his throat uncomfortably to hide an evident groan. He was beginning to fidget under your ministrations, especially when you squeezed under his cock, massaging his balls, “Sorry.”

“Sorry?! That’s all you gotta say after chewing me out for giving you condoms as a joke.” Hoseok was lying in a pile of Louis Vuitton suits on the floor, engrossed in his one-sided conversation, “Our friendship seems one-sided buddy. I thought when you came up to me… I thought, ‘Hey, maybe my good buddy Jungkook will get in this dandy hot tub with me’ but no, you know what you do instead? You ask where Y/n is! God I should’ve known—“

Jungkook threw his head back in a mixture of pleasure and obvious irritation that he couldn’t take it anymore. His finger pressed into the red button and the call was cut to end suddenly. As soon as his phone hit the couch, you pulled off his length with a deep huff for air, “That wasn’t very nice of you.”

“He’ll get over it,” Jungkook mumbled as he reached for your hand to pull you toward him, “Come here.”

“I’m not done,” you leaned away from the kiss he was trying to give you but his hand held your head in place, not caring to kiss the lips that had just been around his hard dick. Jungkook wasn’t as gentle as his need grew heavier and with a strategic pull at your top, it ripped down the back, “Jungkook!”

“What?” He asked with a giddy smile, tempted to be playful, “It was in my way.”

You rolled your eyes, sitting up to take your skirt off yourself and prevent another hazard while Jungkook finished undressing himself. “It was custom, asshole.”

Jungkook’s smile dropped with worry, lips parted in surprise until you burst out into a laugh and fell onto his lap, “You should see the look on your face.”

“Ha ha, don’t scare me like that,” Jungkook chuckled, “I was already thinking about the fortune I would have to pay to fix that.”

“Jungkook,” you ignored the fact that the two of you were naked, in the middle of an intimate moment and asked, “What did you mean earlier?”

“When?” Jungkook asked, caressing your leg, “About staying? Yeah, I’m serious.”

“You are?” You crossed your arms over your bare chest, “Why?”

“Why?” He was visibly taken back, “What do you mean why?”

“I mean… just a few days ago you were adamant on leaving right after the wedding and when you left the resort before everyone else we all kind of figured you had left but you’re here now and…” You took a deep breath in thought.

“Do you want me to leave?” Jungkook asked, sounding more hurt than he intended to. All this time pushing and pulling his feelings for how he felt about being here and seeing you was getting to him. He’s very aware how confusing he is and spending a night with you shouldn’t have changed his mind this quickly while he also refused to admit.

“We didn’t talk about what happened at the party,” you said suddenly, feeling Jungkook drape his shirt over your naked figure as the conversation shifted drastically.

“I know,” he dropped his head, “I’m sorry, I was really confused and I couldn’t tell what I was feeling or how you were feeling and I was mad and… I thought you probably didn’t care.”

“I mean, I didn’t,” you shrugged, “But because I figured it was just a one time thing since you were very obvious with how little you thought of me and now you’re saying you’re staying longer while visiting me at home and it just… I don’t get it.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jungkook was in his slacks again, trying to fix whatever mess he might have made over time, “I just… I was just being dumb. I wanted to act like I wasn’t into you at all because I was mad at everyone else and it wasn’t fair that I took it out on you but I thought you didn’t like me either.”

“And you’re right, you were mean to me,” you nudged him with your foot, “So really, I shouldn’t even be in this position with you right now.”

Jungkook didn’t dare argue when you called him out, “You always pretended to hate me even when you’d get jealous if someone else talked to me and you could never take your eyes off me.”

His brows furrowed, reminded of the trip and how everyone always joked that he wanted you when he was so stubborn on saying he didn’t. He didn’t like how predictable his life was.

“Because I knew everyone thought you were perfect,” Jungkook tried pulling you toward him, “And they didn’t know how you liked to push my buttons and say things you knew would get to my head and how you were actually so unbelievably perfect that it pissed me off everytime I let you get to me.”

“Don’t sweet talk me now,” you teased when he leaned over to lay between your legs, content with the sight of you in his Dior shirt, “How are you gonna repay me for being such a dick?”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook admitted, “Say the word and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I have everything I want,” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Come on Y/n, don’t make this hard on me,” he whined playfully, “Everyone else is already making it hard and I just want to spend the night with you. I’ll let you use me.”

Your brow raised and with a soft laugh you pulled him toward you for a kiss, “I get to use the Jeon Jungkook? What will everyone say?”

“That they saw it coming,” Jungkook chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours, “So don’t stop the inevitable.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling your arousal from earlier slowly make its return, “You’re so spoiled.”

“I know.”

Jeon Jungkook now knows what an awful liar he’s been these last couple of years. All of this talk about wanting to be different, break free from his family’s influences and the world of money and power, was meaningless in the end. He tried, he really did but his rebellion of running off and doing whatever he pleased, refusing to acknowledge the company, the wealth and the people in it was short lived because he never actually wanted to escape it.

He was still going to be friends with the people he grew up with and fall back to his old routine of country clubs and parading on yachts or private islands.

He was still going to take over his share of his father’s company and dress himself up in designer Kiton suits that he used to despise wearing.

He was still going to fall for you, the person he despised simply for being an exact reflection of himself. You were perfect for him in every way on paper and that made him want to push you away but in the end, he still fell for you like he knew he would.

Some people dream about having the life he does, or growing up the way he did and yet here he was selfishly wishing it all away. It was perfect, it was so insanely perfect and unfair that Jungkook ever thought he wouldn’t be happy with what he had been handed down to him for simply being born.

“This person gathered valuable experiences in the world and has shown such a strong will to portray it all into commitment for the company and that makes me a proud father,” A deep voice spoke from behind a podium with an echoing mic that had the attention of over a hundred people, “Please, welcome the newest V.P. for Jeon Corporation, my youngest son, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook had an arrogant smile on his lips as he walked onto stage, thanking everyone for congratulating him on his quick and easy advance in the company—even surpassing his older brother.

“Honestly, it is a big thank you to everyone close to me, for helping me see how ready I am to step into this role and fulfill my duty as a member of this corporation,” Jungkook said confidently, looking at all his friends who had a mixture of confused yet knowing smiles on their faces.

“What a brat,” Hoseok joked with Namjoon, “And I blame you for this.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen someone get pulled back into the country’s good graces so easily,” Namjoon laughed, remembering all the articles about how my ridiculous Jungkook was for publicly stating he would never be a part of the company.

“That’s because he’s spoiled,” Jungkook’s older brother chimed in, “Even after he says he’s gonna walk away from it, he’s still gonna be welcomed back with open arms.”

Taehyung released a playful sigh, “I want to be Jeon Jungkook when I grow up, the perfect life just handed to me and I’m just too blind to appreciate it.”

“Tae, you’re rich,” Yeonwoo whispered to him, Taehyung grinning at her reminder and sitting up straighter.

“How was it?” Jungkook asked his friends as he looked around the table.

“Well rehearsed,” Taehyung gave him the thumbs up, “Also, where’s Y/n? I thought she’d be here.”

Jungkook checked the time on his watch, his leg already bouncing underneath the table, “Yeah, I thought so too.”

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal to him. This was all just some flashy way for his father to make Jungkook’s debut in the business widely anticipated and you had other things to do than be here. The two of you aren’t even officially together yet so it’s not like you owe it to him or anything.

“Y/n,” Jimin whined as he watched the valet open the limo door for you, “Please don’t ditch me. I’m your best friend, imagine how much fun we could be having. Everyone’s going to ask where you ran off to after the dinner.”

“Well you can tell them,” you hurried to finish applying your lip gloss, “That I had more important things to do than get drunk at some fashion party.”

“Right, just throw me to the side like I mean nothing,” Jimin said dramatically, “Is this how you treat friends now?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was only trying to cause a scene. Jimin knew you would be calling it an early night but he just wanted it to be difficult. With a small sigh, you double checked that you looked fine in the mirror and said, “Okay, wish me luck, I’m hoping I get laid tonight.”

“I also hope you get laid tonight so that I don’t have to listen to you talk about how much you want to see him,” Jimin said as you made your way out the car, “Goodnight.”

By the time you got to the banquet, the cameras had been long gone from the entrance and so you were able to make your appearance quietly. You would have been here earlier if there hadn’t been an ambassador dinner tonight that you had already agreed to do before Jungkook decided on staying and you just couldn’t miss it.

You felt bad because Jungkook had asked you to come be his date but he understood why you couldn’t make it right away. If anything he should be happy that you hurried over from dinner to the banquet without an outfit change. Despite the number of attendants, it was really a private affair with only a couple people from the press but nothing too grand and over the top. It made arriving late less miserable and finding Jungkook and your friends much easier.

And when you first involved yourself with Jungkook in this way, you should have known it wouldn’t all be easy. You were now somewhat seeing the most eligible bachelor in the country and nobody knows about it aside from speculation. Speculation won’t stop spoiled rich girls who want him to themselves and that’s what you saw when you found him.

“It’s so great to have you back Kooky, it’s like… the best thing to ever happen,” some girl gushed at him from the once empty seat to his left. She seemed unaffected by the stares she received from around the table and didn’t care at all that Jungkook wasn’t even glancing her way. He doesn’t know her, she’s probably just the daughter of some wealthy couple who thinks she has a chance with him.

Jungkook stared forward, watching his friends’ faces as their eyes softened, no longer listening to the girl who said, “Maybe we can get together some time.”

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, soft lips brushing against his ear as you said, “Maybe we can get together some time too.”

There was no denying the smile that grew on his face as he turned to look at you and how close you were to him. Jungkook’s lips parted in pleasant surprise, ready to talk to you when someone else spoke up.

“Excuse us, sweetheart,” Namjoon said to the girl, “It seems our table is full, maybe you can try somewhere else?”

She left with an annoyed scoff, making room for you to sit down, “Sorry I’m late, did any of you miss me?”

You had a sweet smile on your face, a camera clicked somewhere else in the distance surely capturing how close you were to Jungkook specifically, who was tracing his hand along your thigh.

“Dearly,” Jungkook said as he leaned into you for a quick kiss on the lips, “Thanks for coming.”

“I told you I’d try and make it,” you said to him, “I missed the speech didn’t I?”

“It was nothing special,” Jungkook’s hand began to slide down the space between your legs—or at least as far as your dress would let it, “Just the usual talk about how amazing I am, it was all very boring.”

“But I love talking about you,” Your tone was sarcastic yet flirty, your hand falling over his in warning when he began to pull up your dress just a little. You were sitting at a table with a large draped tablecloth that hid your legs underneath but you were still very aware of the fact that your friends were all around the table.

“Y/n,” Hoseok called for you from across the table, “How does it feel to have the Jeon Jungkook wrapped around your finger?”

Jungkook turned to his friend with a harsh glare, knowing he was just poking fun at it all but still managing to get under his skin. You looked at Jungkook with a knowing grin, “Like nothing I didn’t expect.”

He scoffed, squeezing your thigh possessively, “I think the feelings are mutual, darling.”

You leaned into him, not caring for being around so many important people with cameras trying to capture whatever moment they can, “They are.”

::.

a/n omg it took me literally forever to write this and idk how I feel about it but yknow what 😭it’s finished and that’s what matters. I was in the mood for some rich kdrama feel fic and I hope I managed to pull that off at least a litttlleeeeeeere

thanks for everyone that waited patiently and please feel free to lmk what you think <3

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]

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tteokdoroki · 7 months

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☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. a better man.

about. you’re a girl that’s way out of his league and he’s the bad boy you couldn’t help but fall for. what happens when ryomen sukuna fails to meet you in the middle?

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive towards the end, no curses!au, modern!au, it’s implied that sukuna is in a gang, mentions of fights, reader is a rich girl, they’re kinda in love :( bad boy!sukuna, fem!reader.

“you’re mad at me. aren’cha?”

sukuna mutters with an air of faux nonchalance as he lazily jogs up the final marble steps that lead up to the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at nearly two hours ago. the evening traffic zips by, red and white headlights parting through the rain to illuminate your boyfriend’s features. heavy water droplets take residence on the slope of his nose and Cupid’s bow, some even daring to cling on to the tips of dusty rose-coloured hair.

if you weren’t so angry right now, you might take a moment to appreciate how good sukuna looks in the moment — especially with the way the rain makes the designer tux you’d gotten for him cling to his skin. exposing every ridge and dip and curve in his muscle while his inky black tattoos become all the more visible.

“of course i’m mad.” you step aside to let sukuna under the shelter of the entrance, avoiding him as he swoops down for his usual hug and kiss. “tonight is important. it was important.”

“babe c’mon on, i was—“

“you were late. they’re serving dessert in there, ryomen.” your tone is coloured with shades of annoyance and a hint of warning. like a mother about to lecture her child. you’re pissed. it’s written all over your face too — in the way that your brows crease and you pout so adorably. he’ll try to play it off, like he doesn’t care, but it almost makes sukuna sick to his stomach to know that you’re angry with him.

the rain picks up outside of the restaurant and you continue. “all you had to do was show up on time. come to this stupid fancy restaurant and be there to meet my parents. but of course, you got yourself caught up in—“ you grab his dress shirt in frustration, noticing the blood on the collar that doesn’t belong to him. his split knuckles and the bruise on his lips. “— in whatever this is.” you roll your eyes, blood boiling.

“it’s nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” sukuna scoffs, lips spreading wide in his signature smirk. the excuse is lame, but he doesn’t want you to worry for him any longer. “since when did you care about what your parents think, anyways?” but you see it in his eyes, that same old worry. that he’s not good enough for you, that a scumbag like him doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you. he’s always told you to find someone better, someone able to feed into the glitz and glamour that you were brought up in.

but you’ve always told ryomen sukuna that you have everything you need right there with him.

cupping his face, the heat of anger dispels from your body and you exhale deeply though your nose. “i don’t care about what my parents think. if i did, i wouldn’t be dating you.” you cast a thumb over the thick lines of ink decorating his face, accenting sukuna’s high cheekbones and chiselled features while the rest of your fingers sink into his smooth, dark undercut. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to meet them. they’re just as special to me as you are. i want the most important people in my life to know each other.”

your boyfriend’s hands settle on your wrists as he grunts noncommittally, indicating that he’s aware of his wrong doings. if there’s one thing that sukuna hates, it’s upsetting you. he doesn’t care what the world thinks of him, it’s never mattered before. yet, even the slightest look of disappointment from you has the man in shambles. “‘m sorry,” he drawls, his grip on you shifting down to cup your waist — pulling you flush against him. “what can a guy like me do to make it up to you?”

“you can go on in there and charm the hell out of my rich, uptight parents so that we can hurry up and go home,” your voice lowers an octave as you stand on your tip toes for the extra height so that you can nip at the shell of sukuna’s ear. “where you can rip this dress off’a me.”

“such a dirty mouth for such’a prim ‘n proper girl, hm? i should wash it out with soap.” he purrs right back, leaning down to kiss at your neck until you’ve had enough of his frayed pink hair tickling your skin. he damn near melts when your fingers inch up to tug at his roots — earning a deep and thrilling growl from the man. “that was a dirty move. who taught you that?”

“my good for nothing boyfriend, he’s kind of a bad influence.” you tease back, despite having to physically push sukuna away in order to avoid setting off his inner beast before dinner with your parents is done — and instead, take to grabbing his larger hand in yours so you can lead him from the front of house to your family’s reserved table.

and like always, sukuna trails after you like a lost puppy enamoured with the person that found them, have them love and warmth. because, while you didn’t change him, you made him want to be better — to give up the knives in his back and the bullets looking over his head for something better. something softer.

something like you.

ryomen sukuna wanted to become the someone he thought you deserved.

that’s why he put on this stupid suit and tie, why he let you take his hand, why he follows you to the the table that’s sure to seal his fate with you.

behind all that rough exterior, is a man who loves you.

and in front of sukuna, is a girl who loves him and all of his flaws right back.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #don’t look at me lawl #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork

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jeonride · 11 months

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wonwoo reading list / fic recs part 3 !

don't forget to like + reblog fics that you like to support the authors <3

navigation

FICS ! ✧*。

A Winter Interlude (fluff, light angst, children's book illustrator!wonwoo) by @/ wondernus

Introduce Me A Good Person (fluff, angst, friends to lover, doctor!wonwoo) by @taeyegu

The Peephole (smut, roommate!wonwoo, obsessive tho) by @rubyreduji

Work Husband (fluff, smut, slice of life, coworker!wonwoo) by @bitchlessdino

I Found Love in Your Smile The Series (fluff, angst, doctor!wonwoo x lawyer fem!reader) by @wonlouvre

Bloodily Safe (smut, psychopath!wonwoo) by @starlightxsvt

Pretty Boy (fluff with smut, gamer!wonwoo) by @/fvllingflower

The Other Woman (implied smut, angst, fluff) by @idyllic-ghost

Silk (smut, established relationship) by @angelwoozi

Underlying Pretense (smut) by @lovelyhan

The Bore Next Door (smut) by @ncteez

Blown Up Love (fluff, gamer!woo, university au) by @starsstuddedsky

With Wonwoo (ceo!wonwoo x ceo!reader, fluff) by @wonlouvre

Nameless (fluff, some angst, firebender!wonwoo) by @twogyuu

Until It Feels Like You're in Heaven (smut, fluff) by @odetojeons

Sweet Chaos (angst, light fluff, assassin!wonwoo) by @viastro

One for The Tales (fluff, royal au) by @leejungchans

X + Y = You and I (smut, rivals to lovers, college au) by @angelwonie

Bookworm (fluff, highschool au) by @viastro

Your Mess (smut, angst, fluff) by @onlymingyus

Rich Girl (smut) by @blushnote

Jeon's Anatomy The Series (neurosurgeon!wonwoo x pediatric!reader, Grey's Anatomy au) by @hansols-yoda-boxers

A Moon Without Stars (angst, smut) by @chocosvt

Pomegranates (angst, royal au) by @idyllic-ghost

Knuckles to Ink (fluff, humor, literature agent!wonwoo) by @dropsofletters

Ten Questions (angst, contains blood, violence, guns) by @chocosvt

Off Limits (fluff, angst, smut) by @hinaaspanda

Campus Crush (fluff, tutor!wonwoo) by @starlightxsvt

Play Again (romance, fluff, mild angst) by @shuarush

Loving Him Was Red (fluff, angst, sugar daddy/ceo!wonwoo) by @boowanie

25c Magic (all flufffff!!!) by @thepixelelf

Matters of The Heart and Capri Sun (fluff, angst, strangers to lovers) by @twogyuu

You Mean The World To Me (fluff, angst) by @svtskneecaps

A Boyfriend for Christmas (fluff, friends to lovers) by @junkissed

Game On (smut, established relationship) by @ahloveisboo

Wonwoo : Protector [Tales from The Pack] (mentions of smut, angst, werewolf!wonwoo) by @gamerwoo

Love Sonnet (fluff, established relationship) by @ann-non

Danced Around an Impossibility (fluff, angst, humor) by @dropsofletters

Sweet As Peach (romance, friends to lovers) by @xddaengx

Players (smut, slowburn) by @smileysuh

DRABBLES / SCENARIOS ! ✧*。

the way wonwoo kiss (fluffy and soft!) by @/gyuslcve

yin and yang (all fluff!) by @/boosari

drabbles below are made by @/pepperonidk

In this Life and The Next (fluff)

loving moments with wonwoo (all flufff!! <3)

the drabbles below are made by @hansols-yoda-boxers (wc. above 1k)

day (smut)

night (smut)

how to spice up a lecture (smut)

"bite me." "if you insist." (smut)

this sofa costs fifteen thousand dollars, don't you dare to ruin it (smut)

wonwoo x nipple play (smut) by @/sluttyminghao

andante, andante (smut, 3.1k words) by @sluttywonwoo

lazy days with bf!wonwoo (fluff, smut) by @/ressonancee

just as we are now and will always be (fluff, dad!wonwoo) by @februaryflowers

valentine's day event (fluff, kinda humor tho) by @etherealyoungk

and they were newlyweds (fluff, husband!wonwoo) by @viastro

wonwoo + pda (fluff) by @jeonhwang

별로 not enough (fluff) by @cheolsblackgf

in deep shit (fluff, college au) by @yjncty

late night (fluff) by @idyllic-ghost

wonwoo as synaesthesia (this is so beautiful please you have to read this) by @fairyhaos

tickling tendencies (fluff) by @heavenshoon

wasted (fluff) by @leejihoonownsmyheart

#wonwoo imagines #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo #svt scenarios #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo imagine #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #reading list #fic recommendation #fic recs #seventeen fic #wonwoo fic

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latetaektalk · 8 months

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love to hate you | jjk [vii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 17.966

— warnings: swearing/cursing, alcohol consumption, jealousy, no communication skills whatsoever

— playlist: to be added

— a/n: after almost two years of no update its done. it would be a lie to say that i was always one hundred percent sure this was gonna see the light of day but its finally here, and im so so so happy to just put it out there and give it to you guys. @koocycle has listened to me bitch abt this one so much so thanks to her, also for kinda inspiring me to get back into tumblr.com and writing !! enjoy!! and once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

“You’re really showing your wealth, you know?” you said as Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat, shutting out the cold air. He raised a brow, handing you the bag for you to hold onto, shivering slightly from the cold, his neck exposed to the harsh wind.

“How so?”

The engine sputtered to life as he slotted in the keys, his phone mounted to the dashboard, showing him the way. You pulled out the one-hundred-dollar expensive wine bottle from the bag, scrutinising it. Some of the glitter from the red ribbon the salesman had wrapped around it in an effort to be more festive and fitting today’s occasion peeled off.

“This is too much.”

“Yeah, I know, the bow’s tacky but I couldn’t stop Kangjoon from-”

“No, I mean the hundred bucks you dropped on it. It shows your wealth,” you repeated, scrunching your nose. “Also, didn’t know you were on a first name basis with the salesman.”

You let the bottle slip back into its bag, scared Jungkook was going to make a sharp stop and cause you to drop and waste the bottle. God knows you didn’t have one hundred bucks casually lying around like him—even though you were sure Jungkook wouldn’t make you replace it and would definitely just buy it again himself.

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t like Kangjoon? He’s a great man, very competent.” And just as you were about to tell him that Kangjoon scammed him, Jungkook continued, “Also isn’t that the whole reason why you’re dating me? My wealth?”

He said it with a grin, turning to you as he let a family of four pass, receiving a thankful hand raise from both of the parents as they ushered their young children across the street. And even though he meant it purely as a joke, his smile and tone indicating as much, his words made you scrunch your face like you’d been stung by a bee.

“It’s so unnecessary. We wouldn’t know the difference between this and supermarket wine, and Chae literally said not to bring anything. She’s gonna scold you, you know?”

If it had gone your way, you’d have gotten the second cheapest bottle of semi-fancy alcohol they had and called it a day but Jungkook swiped his card before you could intervene, ever so easily charmed. Well, actually if it had gone your way at all, you wouldn’t have brought anything to begin with. Chaeyoung hated it if her guests brought anything anyway.

“Gotta impress your friends, don’t I? Can’t have them not like me,” he argued, and you rolled your eyes.

“First of all, no, you don’t-”

“You don’t want your friends to like your boyfriend?” Jungkook gasped, staring at you with his mouth agape and eyes wide as you came to a stop in front of a red light. You shook your head.

“No, can I speak?” you sighed, frowning as Jungkook laughed, clearly getting his kick out of annoying you. “My friends already like you, and you know that. We’re driving to Ji’s and Chae’s place now for a Christmas party. One that you were explicitly invited to. So I don’t believe you for a second when you say that you got this wine to impress them. Also, Chae said not to bring anything. You just like spending money.”

Jungkook pursed his lips, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Do I now?”

“Am I not exhibit A?”

He gave you a look as if to say touché.

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “But just so you know, I gladly spent my money on that wine if it means I’ll impress your friends and make them like me more. And I’m even more than happy to spend it on you, cabbage.”

He looked at you by the end of his words, flashing you a grin. A grin that made him look so pretty and adorable, that would have made your knees buckle if you hadn’t been sitting, that wrapped your heart into his grip even tighter. A grin that made you wonder if a parachute would be enough to stop your fall for him, or if you were simply doomed for this fate, for the bone crushing landing.

You turned your head to the window, glad to see you had made it to Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s place.

“I think you’re just happy to have an excuse to spend your money,” you mumble, pretending to busy yourself with the straps of the bag.

“Sure—” There was a shrug, and you should have prepared yourself for the worst, should know better by now that Jungkook couldn’t just agree with you and leave you in peace. “—or you’re just the love of my life, cabbage, and what’s mine is yours.”

The words remained casual on Jungkook’s tongue, easy as ever. And they remained difficult and frown-inducing for you.

“You’re-!”

A laugh bubbled up from Jungkook’s upon your silence, and though you were trying your deepest and most desperate to resist, your heart skipped a beat. It was fatal, cardiologists would say. How deeply you’d fallen, it was fatal. Your heart couldn’t be saved.

And as if he hadn’t said the most impossible thing ever, Jungkook pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, a grin plastered on his lips.

“Alright, let’s-”

You yanked the door open, stepping (of course) in a puddle. With a groan and wince, you slammed the door shut. Your breath came out white and cloudy, December coming into its full swing. The weather had been harsher than ever—wind dragging on your skin until it was painful and tense, air cold enough to dry out your throat and mouth, every window coloured a milky white, and clouds hanging far and wide in the sky for every hour of the day. The urge to crawl back into the oh so warm car was strong. The urge to run away from Jungkook however was just that much stronger.

The bottle bumped your hip bone as you rushed towards Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s apartment building. You didn’t turn around as Jungkook called after you to wait with a laugh, fumbling to unhook his phone from the dashboard.

You reached the glass front door rather quickly, a handprint smudged across it that hadn’t been there last time. You cringed, but couldn’t think about it too much, worrying a lot more about the diminishing distance between Jungkook and you as you waited for one of your friends to open the stupid door for you. You knew for a fact they were already there, spotting Hoseok’s car parked on the side of the street. If he was there, Jimin was too, always catching a ride with him.

“Do you really think you can outrun me?” Jungkook called out, just a dozen steps behind you.

You pulled on the front door as if it made a difference, pressing the bell repeatedly. He slowed his walk, burying his hands into his pockets. All so very smug. Your features twisted into a frown.

“You’re so slow. You always run from me as if I won’t catch up with you in two-”

For once fate seemed to be on your side, the buzzer cutting through the air. The door almost hit you in the face when you yanked it open. You slammed it back shut again, just right in front of Jungkook’s nose. He pulled on the handle. The lock had clicked in. You watched his features twist as he realised he was too slow. His lips pressed together, curling inwards as he watched the biggest and proudest grin spread on yours.

“What were you saying? About me being too slow?” you said. A smile tucked on the corners of his mouth as he shook his head at you.

“Open up.”

He knocked on the glass, right in front of your nose.

“What? I can’t hear you.”

You put your hand to your ear, tilting your head.

“Just open up.”

“You gotta speak louder. I really can’t hear you with this door between-”

“Cabbage, you better open the door for me now, or I’m gonna make you regret it,” Jungkook said, narrowing his eyes, tongue poking in his cheek. And even though you were certain it was an empty threat—how was he going to make you regret it?—, you contemplated for just a second if maybe you should listen and open the door.

“I’m gonna count to three.”

You scoffed. Were you a kid? And even more so, what was Jungkook going to do to you? Were you going to cave because of an empty threat?

“Please do,” you smiled, eliciting one from Jungkook himself.

“Three.”

He raised a brow.

“Two.”

You folded your arms in front of your chest.

“One.”

A moment passed.

Nothing happened.

“Alright, fine,” Jungkook said before dramatically ringing the bell. And even though you rolled your eyes, you did inch back. He was going to chase you, that one was for sure.

The moment the buzzer rang, you took off. Jungkook let out a laugh.

“Now, you run?” he taunted, pulling the door open, his steps echoing through the hallway. You took two stairs at a time, yelping when you realised that Jungkook was hot on your tail. Maybe you should have run earlier. Or maybe you should have opened the door for him. But who were you, letting a guy threaten you? No less Jungkook of all people, that idiot.

You made it up the flight of stairs faster than you ever had, your lungs lit on fire. The front door already stood ajar for you. You could distantly hear Chaeyoung call out for Jisoo- A hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. Jungkook stood right in front of you, chest bumping into you, the biggest grin on his lips.

Shit.

“Gotcha.”

Your face soured.

“Oh, h-how are you?” you coughed with a smile, and he chuckled, never taking his eyes off of you even as he grabbed the bag from your hands and placed it down. You had completely forgotten about it. “Don’t look at me like this. T-that’s not fun.”

“Neither was having the door slammed in my face.”

You backed into the wall. Turns out being tough was a lot more difficult when there wasn’t a door to shield you and Jungkook was actually in front of you, just centimetres from your face and staring at you like you were his favourite thing in this entire world. His hand sneaked around your waist, slipping underneath your sweater, fingers grazing the small of your back. His touch was light and delicate, teasing in all the right ways. It was cold too, making you arch and almost wince. And it was all too much—a tingle spreading across your back, rushing straight to your heart.

“Any last words before I make you regret it?” Jungkook hummed, and you should snort and laugh because he should sound ridiculous. But somehow, his words made you tense, the mere thought making your head spin in rounds and rounds. You bit on your tongue, silencing any sound that might just want to crawl up your throat.

You shouldn’t let Jungkook be this close to you. You needed distance for your sanity. But you couldn’t bring it over your heart to push him away. You didn’t have it in you. Not when there was very much a part of you that wanted to find out what Jungkook exactly meant.

He drank you up with his eyes, gaze dark and full of something hazy. Full of something you couldn’t pinpoint. But you loved it, you did. Maybe a little too much even. You loved the way it made your heart thump and rumble in your chest, made you forget that this was too much and far and dangerous, that Jungkook and you should keep your distance because in just a few weeks all of this would be over and you’d go your merry ways. But right now, with your back against the wall and Jungkook caging you in, thrill and excitement rushing through every single one of your cells, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t think you ever could.

“Got nothing to say now, cabbage?”

And when you still wouldn’t respond, he smiled. His face inched closer to yours, his nose brushing yours. Your fingers itched to hold onto something, onto him, curling and uncurling in the air. Because you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. But you did, hands gripping his sweater as if you were lost in the sea and he was all you had to cling to.

You closed your eyes, anticipating and waiting for Jungkook to kiss you, your breath stuck in your chest. Any time now. It was going to happen-

“Oh my God, please don’t do this in my hallway.”

You whipped your head around, your heart dropping to the floor. Jisoo stood in the doorway, face twisted in utter disgust.

“Please, anywhere but my fucking hallway. That's all I’m gonna be able to think about. Seeing the two of you eating each other’s faces.”

There was even clearer disgust in her voice.

Oh God.

“Hello, Ji,” Jungkook smiled, and you expected him to back away from you, but he gave you no distance. He wasn’t even the slightest embarrassed, if anything you sensed the slightest annoyance swinging with his words.

“Please step away from her, Kook,” Jisoo asked, gesturing for him to move backwards. But he wasn’t all too eager to follow, staying cemented right in front of you, hands still around your waist. He paused to think.

“I’ve got a really expensive bottle of wine.” He pointed to the bag. “I’ll give it to you in exchange for five more minutes.”

“Oh, you brought something? Chae’s gonna kill you,” Jisoo laughed before changing her tune, tilting her head to the side. “But how expensive are we talking?”

“Like one hundred bucks.”

You stared holes into Jungkook, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Were you not right here too? Did you become air? It was like you were cattle being sold off.

“Oh,” Jisoo gasped before shrugging. “Okay, deal-”

“Yeah, no way,” you laughed before doing what you should have done earlier—you pushed Jungkook away, making him tumble backwards a little. You stepped around him.

“But, Y/N, it’s one hundred-”

“Ji!” you gasped, making her laugh and reach out for you. She wrapped her arms around your neck, giggling as she did.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I would never,” she told you, and you raised a brow at her. “Right, Kook?”

“Yeah, we were just kidding.”

“I don’t- hey! I can see you two exchanging looks!” you gasped, neither of the two even trying to be subtle. “Do you think I’m blind?”

“Ha, funny, I think-” Jisoo cleared her throat. “—I think Chae is calling for me? Oh my God, do you hear that? Yes, I’m on my way, Chae!”

And as if she hadn’t just stabbed you in the back, she slipped inside. But not without grabbing the bag and thanking Jungkook for it. You rolled your eyes, turning to head inside when he cleared his throat.

Jungkook was staring at you with his brows raised, clearly expecting… something.

“What?” you barked. He gave you a smile before stretching out his hand. You groaned. “Seriously? We have to get inside-”

But he waved his hand around, not budging. Rolling your eyes and with a long exhale, you took his hand into yours.

“You’re a child-”

Jungkook pulled you towards him, shutting you up with a kiss. One hand cupped your cheek and the other rested on the small of your back, pushing you into him. The kiss was tender and soft, gentle and light. And still, it was enough to have your heart thumping louder and harder in your chest than ever before. You asked yourself if Jungkook could feel it at all. That heart of yours that was oh so tight in his grip. That heart of yours that was bleeding in your chest. That heart of yours already ached at the thought of this all ending in just a few weeks.

It was a lovely kiss, a devastatingly lovely kiss.

And when Jungkook pulled away, his eyes so full and beautiful, you felt gutted and empty. Because this meant nothing to him. This meant nothing at all. You looked away. Jungkook laughed, pulling you flush to his side, all too unaware.

“Let’s go?”

You nodded slightly.

Jimin was first to greet you, leaping up from the couch and pulling you into a hug. “You made it!”

“Took you long enough,” Taehyung mumbled, sipping on his beer, earning himself a look from Namjoon that he simply ignored. “We could hear you two yelling around in the hallway.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Tae,” Jungkook laughed, and the older one frowned at him.

“It’s December 10th.”

“In other words, it’s almost-”

“No, it’s not-”

Hoseok greeted you with a hug, ignoring Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s bickering because otherwise he would never get to say hello to you. “Looking good.”

“Thanks.” You stared at his sweater. “That’s one really ugly Christmas sweater.”

He laughed, thanking you. Seokjin and Namjoon were next to give you a quick hug, followed by Jennie and Yoongi, exchanging a few words with each of them. Taehyung and you stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. And though he tried to hide it, a smile formed on his lips. A smile you could only return. You blamed it on the holidays. They made you especially sappy and sentimental.

You were first to reach out. Taehyung reciprocated the hug. It was a little awkward and short and one-armed. It was more than anyone could ask of you. Jungkook nodded in both amazement and approval when you caught his eyes for a split second, and you just scrunched your nose at him.

“So how-”

You tuned out Seokjin, taking a minute to admire the decoration around you instead. Chaeyoung (because Jisoo wasn’t particularly all too fond of Christmas, but did put up with all of it because Chaeyoung very much was) always outdid herself every holiday season: red little fuzzy stockings hanging off shelves and cupboard knobs, cinnamon-scented candles lit up all throughout the place, miniature Santa and reindeer figurines sitting on every surface alongside bowls of chocolates and peppermints with fake snow underneath. There was even a small fake Christmas tree crammed into the corner of their living room with colourful baubles (some of which Jimin had gifted and had pictures of you all printed on them) and equally colourful fairy lights hanging on it. And of course, Michael Bublé was on heavy rotation, his voice carried throughout the home.

“Where’s Chae?” you asked Jisoo when she came up next to you, both of you standing in front of the Christmas tree.

“Oh, you know-”

“Ah, great, you guys finally made it as well,” Chaeyoung exhaled, coming out from the kitchen, and seeing Jungkook and you among the other guests. There was a slight edge accompanying her words, and you doubted for no second that her nerves were running high from having to host tonight and needing all of this to turn out perfect. (Even if she chose this fate upon herself.) Her updo was falling apart, strands sticking out in the wrong places. Still, she looked pretty. Especially with her reindeer apron tied around her waist. She had had it since middle school, and seeing it brought back all kinds of memories. You couldn’t help but grin, Jisoo and you exchanging looks. And when your gaze met Chaeoyung’s, she knew. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“Yeah, I know,” she mumbled, speaking to you too only and confusing the others in the process. Jisoo and you snickered.

“Anyway—” Chaeyoyung waved her hand around, “—I’ve got some unfortunate news. Dinner isn’t ready. I’ll need at least another thirty minutes. Hope you guys didn’t come too hungry.”

“Do you need help with anything?” Jungkook asked, already getting up from the couch. Yoongi raised his hand, silently extending the offer as well. Jennie nodded, clearly willing to get her hands dirty too.

“Yeah, anything we can do to help you?” Taehyung asked, making an effort to get up too, but Chaeyoung was quick to shake her head.

“No, I don’t need help,” she mumbled, clearing her throat. “I just wanted to inform you guys. You all would help if you guys just busied yourself and didn’t come into the kitchen.”

And before anyone could insist on their help, Chaeyoung disappeared back inside the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t we-?”

“If you wanna stay on her good side, don’t take a single step into the kitchen. Don’t even breathe in that direction, or think about helping her,” Jisoo explained, and Jungkook looked at you as if to ask if this was exaggerated at all.

“Yeah, Chae’s… very peculiar with that kind of stuff.”

“But there are so many of us. Is she really gonna do all of it on her own?” Jennie asked, but Hoseok waved her off.

“Trust me, she is and she will. Chae gets super stressed, but she also loves to host. If you don’t let her, she’ll be in a bad mood for ages. It’s better to just let her do her own thing.”

“And if it actually gets too much, she’ll come out and ask for help at one point. Trust me,” Jimin added.

“You think? I’m not so sure about that one,” Jisoo snorted and moved over to grab a handful of chocolates. Almost instinctively, she placed a hand on Jennie’s shoulder, and for a moment, you wondered if Jungkook and you ever looked this natural and comfortable with each other. If you looked as much as a couple as Jisoo and Jennie did. “When has she ever asked for help?”

“There’s no way she can do all of this on her own,” Taehyung said, frowning.

“You don’t know Chae.”

“Maybe. But it seems humanly impossible to pull off this entire thing without asking for at least some help.”

Jisoo raised her brow at Taehyung, pausing a moment. “Oh, do you wanna bet?” Her mouth pulled into a grin at the mere prospect of making some easy money. “Ten bucks?”

Hoseok and you exchanged glances over their heads. This was very much typical of Jisoo.

“Don’t bet with her, Tae. She’s a scammer,” Jimin said, pushing Jisoo’s hand away as she waited for him to shake it.

“I won’t,” Taehyung laughed, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I don’t do-”

The ear-shattering sound of a pan clashing with the kitchen tiles emerged from the kitchen, followed up with a few loud curses and an “It’s fine!”. You cringed when something else you couldn’t identify fell to the floor a second later, eliciting even more curses. Almost instinctively, you turned to Jisoo, nudging her. Because as much as she was right that it was a bad idea to go help Chaeyoung, it would actually be worse not to go in right now when everything seemed to go off the rails.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. My cue to jump in,” she grumbled, begrudgingly making her way to the kitchen, knowing already she would have to endure Chaeyoung’s snappy attitude. She squeezed Jennie’s hand in goodbye.

“See, she’s getting help,” Taehyung said to no one in particular and righteously took a sip from his beer. Jungkook applauded him sarcastically, and you were about to say something when-

“Oh, this is cute!” Seokjin gasped, coming up to you. You followed his gaze to the bauble he was admiring. It had an old picture of you and your friends on it, faces curving around the porcelain. “How old are you guys there?”

You pursed your lips. “That’s probably senior year? So like seventeen maybe? Eighteen?”

“What are you guys doing- oh my God, you guys look so young.” Namjoon hooked an arm around Seokijn’s shoulder, marvelling at your younger selves. “Look at that one!”

He pointed out one with just Jisoo, Chaeyoung and you on it. It was one of the first pictures you three had taken together. All three of you still stuck in middle school. You couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed or nostalgic.

“Is that Ji? Her hair, oh my God!” Seokjin laughed, pointing out the blunt bob Jisoo used to rock.

“Don’t be mean!” And yet, Namjoon laughed too.

“You’re lucky Ji can’t hear you right now because she’d kill you,” you said. “But actually, you should see some of Seok’s old pictures. He looks so different-”

A hand snaked around your waist. You tensed. But you relaxed a second later when you realised who it was. You peeked over your shoulder just to check and smiled when you turned out to be right. He placed his chin on your shoulder.

“Hello,” Jungkook whispered, and you squirmed, his breath tickling your ear. He was so close to you, too close. You could practically feel his heart beating behind yours.

“Hey,” you returned, a bit breathless and pitchy. You cleared your throat.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, uh, nothing really,” you mumbled, waving your hand around.

Jungkook frowned, but didn’t ask any further. “Okay, well, I wanted to get you something to drink. You think I can go into the kitchen without getting murdered?”

“Yeah, you’re fine. Ji’s there too,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you, eyes big and so full and a smile on his lips.

“Okay, then do you want anything in particular?”

You shook your head. “Uh, no, whatever is fine.”

“Whatever it is.”

But rather than just leave to get you said drink, Jungkook lingered, not moving away from you just yet. You raised a brow at him, making him smile. As if he could read your mind, he loosened his grip around your waist, but not before pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Getting you that drink,” he smiled, backing away.

You touched a hand to where he had kissed you, gripping, feeling hot all of a sudden. It was stupid, you were stupid.

“Jesus.”

And albeit, it was quiet and muttered under his breath, you heard it very clearly. You looked at Seokjin, eyes big as he stared back at you with a grin on his lips. There was a fondness in his eyes, a look you always saw on Jimin’s face. Namjoon wore it too.

“What?” you asked when the expression wouldn’t disappear.

“It’s just-”

He sighed and shook his head.

“What?” you repeated, but Seokjin wouldn’t continue.

“You guys are just cute,” Namjoon supplied.

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, shaking your head.

“You guys are exactly like Jin and Mina used to be,” Yoongi said, coming up next to you, having witnessed the entire exchange from his spot on the couch.

“What?” you laughed, shaking your head over and over again. “I have no idea what-”

“Don’t deny it, Y/N,” Namjoon laughed and looked at you.

“It’s gross really,” Yoongi scoffed, taking a sip from his beer. “How smitten he is for you. How happy and—” He shuddered for the drama of it all but wore a smile on his lips. “—stupidly in love you two are.”

Wait, what?

“It’s cute,” Seokjin corrected, and you stared at him with stunned silence.

“Is it though?”

“Don’t be like that, Yoongs. When have you ever seen Kook this happy before?”

The question, though not directed at you at all, made you freeze. And when you looked at Yoongi and he made no effort to disagree, you froze.

“You make him really happy,” Namjoon said with a smile and tilted his head when you didn’t speak or react at all, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “You know that, right?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, crashing down on you and compressing your lungs. Because, no, you didn’t. You didn’t think about it ever, and why would you? It never seemed possible to you because it simply wasn’t possible you made Jungkook happy. You didn’t have that power over him.

Was this really how you looked like to others—two people who were in love and happy? It sounded ridiculous to you, impossible. So much so, you just had to shake your head and wave your hand around as if the words loomed in front of you and had to be physically dismissed. Your heart banged in your ribcage, loud and far too heavy.

“You guys are exaggerating!” you chuckled, voice wavering the slightest bit. “This has nothing to do with me- Finals are over and it’s Christmas, so obviously-”

A single look from them was all it took to silence you. They didn’t have to say a word for you to know what they were collectively thinking.

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Seokjin said.

“For god’s sake, just look at that boy,” Yoongi laughed, pointing behind you, and your gaze followed his hand. Right then Jungkook came back with two drinks, one for you and one for him.

He seemed surprised, stilling as he saw that you were all looking at him. But he recovered, mouth pulling into a big smile. Your eyes met his. You would have missed it if you hadn’t looked so close and paid attention to every little thing he did. But you saw it, the tiny smile he offered you, and only you. It was like a little secret. Just for you and him to know and share and see.

Did you really make him happy?

“Why are you guys staring at me like that?” Jungkook laughed, coming to a stop in front of you and handing you your drink. You took it passively, and purely from the warmth, you knew it was your favourite, green tea. “Are you guys talking shit about me?”

“Oh, yeah, you know just the usual shit talking we do about you,” Namjoon snorted.

“Mhm, the usual stuff. How you always-”

Seokjin’s voice faded away when Jungkook moved closer to you, his arm already lifting to sneak around your middle. But you couldn’t do this. Not now.

“Sorry, I gotta pee,” you mumbled, wringing out of Jungkook’s grasp, his fingers just barely brushing your skin. You didn’t know who you interrupted, but you offered them all an apologetic look but you never quite looked at Jungkook. Your exit seemed natural enough though, you thought. No one made an effort to stop you.

Some of your drink spilt over when you put it down on the coffee table too quickly, and you even almost bumped into Hoseok, but rather than apologise properly and clean up your mess, you hurried into the bathroom.

The moment the lock clicked shut behind you, you let yourself crumble, knees giving in. If only just a little.

Oh God.

It wasn’t very environmentally friendly, not very Save the Turtles! kind of behaviour of you at all as you just let the water run and run into the sink and down the drain. You didn’t even wash your hands or face, just needing something to fill the silence as you sat on the edge of the bathtub and let yourself calm down.

You felt ridiculous. You truly did. Insane and crazy even. The behaviour you were exhibiting was probably therapist worthy. The panic. For what? And why? It was behaviour you never imagined yourself exhibiting. No less because of Jeon Jungkook. But here you were, playing his pretend girlfriend for money so he could win a bet. And you got all of your friends involved even! You should have really thought this through-

“Cabbage?”

And somehow, both dread and warmth crept up with his voice. You closed your eyes, thinking for a second to shut off the tap. It seemed just a little too exhausting to do that.

“Yeah?”

“Are you good?”

“Yeah.”

It was quiet for a few seconds.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m peeing, Jeon.”

A lie. He knew. You knew.

“Fine, come in.”

When you wouldn’t move, Jungkook gave the door handle a try, surprised to see you hadn’t locked it. You had forgotten, and so he did it for you instead. The moment he saw you sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the tap carelessly running, he stopped, features folding into something nice, pleasant, empathetic.

“Stop,” you groaned, rolling your eyes and turning away from him, shutting off the tap as if that minimised how sad you had to look right now.

Jungkook chuckled, burying his hands into his pants, carefully walking towards you. He sat down next to you, knee pressed against yours. Neither of you pulled away. There was a part of you that should tell him to give you space, but you couldn’t. If anything, you turned a little to him.

“How are you always running off into the bathroom when you feel bad? It’s so obvious,” he mumbled, pinching your nose.

“Ow, stop!” you hissed, swatting his hand aside.

He gave you a look, shaking his head, and you pouted like a child would. It made him chuckle, and you tensed when Jungkook put his head on yours, too tall to lean against your shoulder comfortably, his eyes falling shut.

“What did they say?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence after a while.

“What?”

“Joon and the others. What did they say to make you run off like that?”

You pressed your lips together, disliking that you were so easy to read.

“Who sent you?” you snorted, wanting to figure out which of your friends just earned themselves a plus point.

“No one.”

“What?” you blinked, and looked at him, but he kept his eyes closed. “So you-”

“No one sent me. I just… wanted to make sure you were fine myself.”

And hearing that was somehow utterly awful. Because it meant Jungkook cared. At least to some degree, at least enough to want to check on you. It meant that he was able to read you so easily, that he really knew you.

“Now, what did they say? You can tell me. I’ll talk to them for you. Or I won’t if you don’t want me-”

You shook your head, sighing. “Nothing. They said nothing.”

It was true. Because none of what Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi said was worth running off. It wasn’t insulting, or hurtful.

“Are you sure? Seriously, you can just tell me. I’d talk to-”

“I’m serious,” you interrupted, not even wanting to hear how far Jungkook would go for you. “They said nothing. I just had to pee.” You shrugged. “And I just needed a moment to breathe. It’s nothing. I promise.”

Jungkook sat up, glancing at you with his mouth pursed and eyes narrowed. “So just a moment to breathe?”

Your hand almost came up to cup his cheek, the urge to brush over the little scar on his cheekbone tempting you. It was difficult to resist when he was looking at you like that. There was this need, to plant your lips against his. Kiss him and assure him. But you didn’t let yourself. You turned your head to the other side, curling your hand around the cool porcelain of the bathtub until the skin stretched thin over your knuckles and almost hurt. Just anything but Jungkook and his stupidly pretty face.

“Just a moment to breathe,” you mumbled.

Jungkook hummed, straightening up. He let his head hang for a few seconds before lifting it up again and turning to you.

“Is it fine if I stay with you then?”

It was a delicate question, an honest question, a devastating heartbreaking question. Because of course, he could. Of course! He could do anything, as long as he remained by your side. And that realisation, albeit not entirely new to you (you were aware of it to some degree all along), was mortifying.

You closed your eyes, a knot forming in your throat. There was nothing for you to say, a silence stretching between you. A silence Jungkook took as a “yes”, and when his hand gripped yours, it was sealed for you. You didn’t pull away, put your head on his shoulder. What would be the use of resisting? What good would it do? What would it change? Nothing.

So you enjoyed it instead, the moment between him and you. For as long as you could. For now.

“We should probably get back out,” you mumbled when you heard the laughter get louder in the living room.

“Probably.”

And yet, neither of you moved. A few more moments passed. It was the next bound of laughter that ripped you out.

“We should-”

“I think it’s time-”

You both stopped, nodding, knowing. Jungkook was first to get up, groaning like an old man before turning to you and offering you his hand. With one loud sigh, you took it, allowing him to pull you up. You shared a look and a smile.

It felt like you were walking into another world when you stepped outside, still holding hands. Before it was just Jungkook and you. Now it was everyone else too. And almost as if you had said that exact thought out loud, everyone looked at you as you walked back in. You stopped, the same way Jungkook had when he had returned and found you all staring at him. You frowned, the grin spreading on Jimin’s and Jisoo’s (When had she made it back?) faces worrying you. Jungkook seemed as clueless as you.

“What?”

No one said anything for a second.

“Can I?” Jisoo asked, pleading with everyone else, and you narrowed your eyes. She was giddy, and her being giddy was never a good sign, especially for you. Most times it meant you’d be miserable.

“Do the honours,” Jimin said, gesturing for her to ahead.

Jisoo leaned back, grinning from ear to ear. She seemed to stretch the moment thin, take her sweet time to reveal to you what exactly entertained her so much. Jennie shook her head next to her, but she wore a smile on her lips, amused.

You kept close to Jungkook, almost instinctively. As if he could protect you. His hand brushed the small of your back, soothing. Taehyung’s irritating snicker grabbed your attention for a second, but before you could frown at him for it, Jisoo spoke,

“Look up.”

Fuck. You should have figured.

“Ah,” Jungkook laughed upon seeing the mistletoe above your heads.

“You guys are funny,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “And very cute for thinking that we are gonna do-”

“You have to!” Jimin interjected, leaning forward and pointing at the two of you. “It’s the law. The rules of the game.”

You frowned, and the lines deepened even more when you saw everyone from Namjoon, Seokjin and Jennie to Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jisoo nodding along. Of course, they found pleasure in your misery.

“It’s bad luck if you don’t,” Hoseok reminded you of the stupid rules, and you could have thrown something at him. How was no one on your side?

“That’s… made up.”

“Well, if you wanna risk the bad luck, be my guest,” Hoseok chuckled, shrugging, and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, please, no one believes that!”

But you were met with no ounce of support from anyone. You turned to Jungkook, expecting that he was equally as ticked off as you. But he seemed perfectly fine, his features not even slightly twisted into anything resembling irritation. If anything, he was smiling a little when you met his eyes.

“I don’t know, I’m never one to tempt fate,” he said, and you couldn’t quite decide how to react. Jungkook reached for your hand again, playing with your fingers. “Why risk the bad luck? Also, it’s not like we have never kissed in front of them.” He grinned. “Remember how you jumped me and-”

“Oh my God, I didn’t jump you!” Your voice leapt up a few pitches too high and remained there when your friends began to laugh.

“Now that’s a lie. You practically threw yourself at-”

“Jeon!”

Jungkook cackled, and you could have strangled him right then and there. Your friends laughed too, and you would have snapped at them if your cheeks didn’t warm to an uncomfortable degree. To the point the blood boiled in your ears, so much so you didn’t even hear Namjoon’s holler about how it was just a kiss!

It wasn’t completely lost on you that it was stupid to be embarrassed, considering how boldly you had claimed Jungkook as yours in front of a room of strangers just a few weeks ago. Especially considering that all of your friends had a slight alcohol level going on anyway already and were most definitely moving on the second the kiss happened. But it was different. At the Halloween party, you were positively buzzed, your vision blurry and fuzzy. But more importantly, you were jealous to the point of turning green. It seemed so much more intimate to kiss Jungkook in front of everyone now. And so very vulnerable because you wanted to so much. Kiss him. You always did these days, yearned to. That desire scared you, was mortifying in more ways than you could describe, particularly in this moment because what if they could all sense it? What if Jungkook realised it all of a sudden? That you really wanted this? That your entire heart ached for him?

And as if you had the fear written all over your face, Jungkook reached for you, tugging on your elbow and turning you back to him. He gave you a smile, his head tilted to the side. A few strands slipped out of his perfectly messy hair, and a soft shadow covered half his face. Right then, he seemed all so delicate to you, so good, so precious. It was instant, your heartbeat dwindled into something calmer and wilder at the same time. Somehow, it seemed almost easy and much more difficult to kiss him and pretend it didn’t dig daggers into your heart. None of it made sense, the effect he had on you, but you supposed a lot of things hadn’t made sense in your life since Jungkook’s first appearance.

“It’s just a kiss, cabbage,” he mumbled, shrugging.

It was. It was just a kiss, to your friends, to him. It was nothing, a small price you had to pay to entertain your friends. It was fun and simple. It was just unfortunate that it was so much more to you.

You held your breath when Jungkook placed a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, gentle and soothing. He was doing everything right, and yet, you could have thrown up right then and there. Jimin gasped and squeaked as Jungkook inched closer to you, Jisoo grasping onto his arm because oh my God, they were going to kiss! All while you were desperately, almost frantically, fisting Jungkook’s shirt, as if you would float away otherwise and it was the only thing keeping you on the ground.

And Jungkook kissed you all too delicately.

To the point, you could have believed him. That you meant something to him, that he might just be in love with you. It was horrible, to be kissed like that. You weren’t sure if this was how it felt like, to be in love and to be loved. You hoped it wasn’t.

You pulled him closer to you, deepened the kiss, allowed him in. For just a while, you told yourself. Just until you found the strength in you to resist him, until you deemed your own well-being more important than these fleeting highs with Jungkook.

“Alright, dinner’s- oh.”

Chaeyoung stopped right before she could bump into you, and you quickly pulled away. But Jungkook kept holding you, not letting go of you. Chaeyoung placed her hands on her hips and shot Jimin and Jisoo a long look.

“Ah, who of you idiots did this?”

“Why do you assume it was-”

“So it was you,” Chaeyoung said, interrupting Jimin and shaking her head. “Take it off. Dinner’s ready.”

Jisoo slapped his shoulder, laughing, clearly enjoying seeing him getting reprimanded by Chaeyoung. Jimin rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how Chaeyoung was no fun but he followed her orders, getting up and reaching for the bundle above your heads. You backed away-actually you jumped. It made Jimin pause and narrow his eyes, his mouth lifting into a smile when he saw the opportunity.

“Oh, what if I hold it over you-”

“No, don’t even!” you hissed, pushing Jimin away from you and seeking refuge behind Chaeyoung.

“Oh, it’s just one more kiss, Y/N!” Jimin taunted, following you. You shrieked, moving further from him, irritated by the constant laughter spilling from his throat. He was enjoying this too much. Too much!

“Fuck off!”

“Don’t be like-”

“I’m serious, stop!”

“It’s fun-”

“Okay, no, enough,” Jungkook said, stepping in and swiftly taking the mistletoe from Jimin. He slapped him with it lightly, eliciting a gasp from Jimin. “No more chasing my girlfriend with mistletoe, okay? Or you can do your physics assignments on your own.”

Rubbing his cheek, almost convinced he was allergic to mistletoe now, Jimin gasped as if Jungkook had just declared an end to their friendship. “Kook! How could you say that?”

“Stop chasing my girlfriend then.”

“Oh my God, fine, I won’t,” Jimin groaned, pouting. “You’re so lame.”

When he reached for the mistletoe, Jungkook hesitated, looking over to you and even though you preferred him not to hold it in his hands again, you knew Jimin would get even more offended if Jungkook withheld the bundle from him. So you gave him a nod.

“Okay, alright, dinner’s getting cold,” Chaeyoung said, clapping her hands together when Jimin was back in possession of his mistletoe. “So how about we take this party into the kitchen, yeah?”

Like you had said he would, Jungkook got an earful from Chaeyoung when she noticed the expensive bottle of wine suddenly appear on the dinner table because how dare you bring something when I clearly said not to? And on top of that such an expensive bottle too. Do you shit money? Somebody needs to teach you how to manage your finances. Rather than come to his help, you left Jungkook to fend for himself which earned you puppy eyes from him, but hadn’t you told him better? Surprisingly however he managed to convince her to open the bottle anyway. You were sure she’d get him to return it, or at least take it home again. Jungkook could be very compelling. But you knew that already.

“If the teaching thing doesn’t work out—” Namjoon had his mouth stuffed as he spoke, and you caught Yoongi cringing next to him. “—I think you should become a cook, Chae.”

She smiled sheepishly, waving him off. “Oh, please. My mom’s cooking is so much better.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” he laughed. “This is seriously so good.”

Hoseok shoved a big bite into his mouth, a drop of sauce splashing onto the table. Chaeyoung smiled and wiped it off for him. He thanked her.

“It’s the best food on Earth. I’d die for it,” Jimin sighed, a little too loud and dramatic, his mouth full with food, giving you all a glimpse into what his stomach must look like. His cheeks were tinted a slight pink, the red wine slowly flushing him through. “Like that one Gordon Ramsey meme? Where you know—” He sat up, changing his voice in a failed attempt to mimic the British celebrity chef. “—he’s like ‘Finally some good fucking food.’ or whatever. That’s how I always feel when I eat Chae.”

For a second, there was silence. Jungkook and you looked at each other with big eyes, a hint of a smile on your lips because it was obvious that Jimin hadn’t realised what he had said, blabbering on and on without a second thought.

“Maybe you should calm it on the alcohol,” Seokjin mumbled, pushing Jimin’s glass away from him. But it had the opposite effect, making him reach for it instead and down the entire contents of his glass in one quick go.

“Never!”

“You mean… her food. When you eat her food, you could cry, right?” Taehyung clarified, and Jimin looked at him with big eyes.

“Oh, yes of course! What else would I mean?” he laughed, loud and boisterous. “Chae’s all yours, Seok. Don’t worry. I’m not your competition.”

Chaeyoung almost choked on the wine, and Hoseok turned a few shades redder.

“Someone get this idiot some water,” Yoongi snorted, and Namjoon already got up.

You turned your gaze to Jisoo when she leaned into you, taking the chaos as a chance to just talk to you, her hand grabbing yours.

“How’s the scarf going by the way? Are your loops now clean?” she whispered, careful to keep her voice low. You glanced towards Jungkook, but he was busy trying to convince Jimin to drink a few sips from the water at least. And though he hadn’t heard a word, you glared at Jisoo, shaking your head.

“Not with him around,” you hissed, and she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, look at him. He’s not paying us attention. I wanna know. I’m invested now, especially because you always called me a grandma for knitting. How’s it going?” she asked, and you knew it was best to just quickly answer her because she wasn’t dropping this.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it now. It’s almost done-”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Jennie asked, leaning in, eyes wandering between Jisoo and you.

“Y/N’s knitting a scarf for her boyfriend for Christmas.”

“Ji!”

Your features couldn’t decide whether or not to contort in embarrassment or fear Jungkook had overheard this time. It’d ruin your surprise. You were in luck though because he wasn’t paying your conversation any mind.

“Oh, that’s cute!” Jennie squealed. “I only thought Ji knits. I didn’t know you knit too, Y/N.”

“I-”

“She doesn’t. She just sews a little,” Jisoo said, beating you to it. She leaned towards Jennie as if she was telling her a secret and didn’t want you to hear, but she deliberately kept eye contact with you and didn’t even lower her voice, her lips curling up. “She learned how to knit for her stupid little boyfriend. She asked me so many questions and bought so much yarn too. It was so annoying-”

You kicked Jisoo in the shin, shutting her up. She sharply sucked in her breath, hands flying to her leg, mouth agape in a silent screech.

“You’re talking too much,” you hissed, not remorseful at all even as she rubbed her shin. Jennie laughed.

“That’s really cute of you though, Y/N,” she said, smiling at you. “I like the idea. He’s gonna love it.”

“It’s just a scarf,” Jisoo mumbled, rolling her eyes, words dipping into an astonishing amount of immaturity. “It’s not that cute. I could knit you a better scarf-”

“Stop bragging. It’s different. You’ve always knit. Y/N made an effort to learn how to for Kook.”

“I’d learn how to do something new for you.”

“So do.”

“What? Like I won’t?”

You took that as your cue to exit the conversation, glancing over to Jungkook instead. He hadn’t noticed your conversation at all. In fact, he was stuffing his mouth full. Some extra sauce decorated the corner of his mouth in his haste. Without missing a beat, you wiped it off with your thumb before cleaning it on his napkin. He turned to you, eyes as big as a reindeer caught in headlights. It hit you only then as he stared at you and you stared at him, what you had done. How intimate the nature of the gesture had been. You might as well have ripped out your heart and told him to keep it. It would have been the same.

“Did… you just-”

“Oh, the wine is actually so good!” Jisoo sighed, putting down her glass, and right now you were very glad she sat next to you. “I think that’s the best wine I’ve ever had.”

Jungkook’s eyes darted between her and you. He was thinking, contemplating if he’d engage with Jisoo in a conversation, or tease you until you were just about ready to be swallowed by a hole. Maybe it was the way you wouldn’t even look in his direction and kept your gaze trained on Jisoo, or maybe because he was planning on bringing it up another time, but in the end, he decided to spare you.

“I’m happy to hear you like it,” he grinned before jabbing you in the side. You flinched, grabbing his hand before he could do it again. “See, and you said they wouldn’t taste the difference.”

“She doesn’t,” you grumbled, brows creased together.

“She’s just saying that because she knows how expensive it is,” Taehyung said, and for once you agreed. Jisoo rolled her eyes at him, mumbling something about not wanting to argue with an idiot and picking a piece of lint off of Jennie’s shoulder instead.

Jungkook shrugged. “Whatever. She likes it, so worth every penny.”

You were about to let go of his hand, feeling any kind of contact was a step too much, a step into a very wrong and dangerous direction. But Junkook interlaced his fingers with yours, holding it firm, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. For a second, you contemplated pulling away because this was too much, too close. You didn’t, not finding the strength in you to do it.

“Actually, I haven’t learned half of my mom’s cooking. She always makes this amazing pork belly stew for every Christmas. If you love this, you’ll love that,” Chaeyoung said, pulling you into their conversation that seemed to have circled back to her cooking.

“Are you gonna go back home for Christmas? Because I’ll go with you if so. That stew sounds amazing,” Yoongi said.

“Oh my God, if you are, please take me with you too because this is so good,” Jennie sighed dreamily, making Chaeyoung laugh.

“Excuse me, what about our Christmas plans?” Jisoo gasped with faux upset, and immediately Hoseok, Chaeyoung, Jimin and you exchanged glances.

Moving fast, Hoseok mouthed and you nodded. You had no idea. At the same time, it seemed to work for them.

“Oh, can’t we just drop by for dinner really quickly for some food?” Jennie tried, pursing her lips into a pout, but Jisoo just clicked her tongue and shook her head.

“Good food is all it takes, huh?”

Jennie laughed.

“Is everyone going home for Christmas?” Namjoon asked, wiping his mouth before grabbing his glass of wine, holding it up to his lips, speaking into it. “I know Kook is for sure.”

Jungkook nodded. “Got me there.”

And even without looking at him, you knew he was smiling and more than excited to go back home. He squeezed your hand, and you could tell he did so unconsciously. You squeezed back, happy for him that he was happy.

“Oh, right, I’ve been meaning to ask!” Jimin gasped, turning rather dramatically towards you. You blinked, unsure of what was about to spill from his lips.

“Is it true that you’re going back home with Kook, Y/N?”

What?

Everyone turned to you, Chaeyoung raising her brow at you because were you? You stared back at her, mouth opened and closing because no, right? You weren’t, or were you? Your eyes lifted to Jungkook, and he had that same look on his face. Neither of you knew what to say or do. This wasn’t something you had discussed. And why would you have? It’d be ridiculous to assume that you’d be going back home with Jungkook to meet his parents for Christmas.

“Uh-?”

“I’m just asking because Kook’s parents have been asking me if I knew if he’s actually gonna bring you,” Jimin continued, shrugging. And maybe you would have focused on how much you wanted to strangle him right now and needed him to shut up if your mind wasn’t reeling from the fact that Jungkook seemed to have not only told his parents about your existence but also that you would be spending Christmas with them.

What?

“Okay, yeah, no, wait,” Jungkook interjected, a clear panic in his voice, turning fully to you. “I can explain.”

You blankly stared at him, unable to even make a single sound. He dug a hand through his hair, looking even more panicked the longer you said nothing.

“So, uh, my brother saw my posts and stories online and might have told my parents… that I’m dating you. And so they’ve been really curious and asking about you a lot, and it was a little annoying, so I just told them that I might bring you around for Christmas to shut them up. But—” He held out his hand as if to get ahead of you saying anything. “—I didn’t promise them anything. I just said it to get them off my back, you know?”

You continued staring at him, unsure of how to react or what to say because well, you hadn’t thought that either of your parents were ever going to get involved in any shape or form. You hadn’t even played with the idea of telling your parents. And why would you? All of this was fake! A ruse, so Jungkook could win his stupid bet!

“It wasn’t planned, or anything, okay? I wasn’t going to tell them about you-”

“You weren’t?” Jimin blurted out, brows pinching together. He seemed to have lost all ability to read the room, just a glass or two of wine enough to dull his brain. “Ow-!”

He glared at Taehyung, rubbing his arm. It still wasn’t enough to shut him up however.

“What was that for? I’m just saying I’m a little surprised that Jungkook, the definition of a mama’s and papa’s boy, was planning on keeping his girlfriend a secret when he hasn’t shut up about Y/N for months-”

“No, wait it’s not like that,” Jungkook quickly scrambled, gesturing wildly. “It’s just that my parents, you know, can get a little much. And, I don’t know-”

His sentence didn’t find an end, and Jimin seemed to just take that as a sign to go on,

“Didn’t Narae meet-”

“Okay, how about you finish your food, huh?” Taehyung interrupted, taking Jimin’s fork and picking up a big piece of meat before shoving it into his mouth. Namjoon and Seokjin exchanged glances, cringing. Yoongi lowered his head, and Jennie slid down on her seat. Chaeyoung looked at you with big empathetic eyes and Jisoo even gave your hand a squeeze.

If there was anything genuine between you, this would have been devastating. Luckily, there wasn’t. So it couldn’t hurt. And yet, your heart felt like it was bleeding in your chest, a dagger shoved in, a dagger with Jungkook’s name. He was staring holes into you, but you couldn’t look at him, settling on the edge of the table instead. You weren’t hurt. You weren’t hurt that Narae with her perfect smile and manicured nails and beautiful hair and glossy lips got to meet his parents and you didn’t. It didn’t bother you at all! That was what you told yourself at least. Because you couldn’t possibly be hurt. Not when your relationship was transactional and just an act. And yet, to your misery, you were hurt, deeply. You hated it, how you weren’t all that unbothered as you wanted and more importantly, should be.

You were pulled out of your thoughts though when you saw the glare Hoseok was looking at Jungkook with. It dawned on you how awful all of it had to sound to your friends then. Narae, who never even was Jungkook’s official girlfriend, got to meet his parents, but you, who was officially (at least to them) his girlfriend, he not only didn’t want to introduce to them but also planned on keeping a secret?

“Oh my God, you guys!” you laughed, loud and light, like it was all so very dumb and stupid. With a big swoop, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand on the table, hoping no one saw the shake in your fingers. Everyone looked at you.

“You’re misunderstanding. We had agreed from the beginning that we should take it a little slower, and not tell everyone immediately. I knew he wasn’t going to tell his parents. I told him not to.” You put on your most convincing smile, swallowing the knot in your throat, hoping desperately it was enough. Everyone was looking at you, and you looked right back at them, at everyone except for Jungkook. Your vision almost blurred, hazy at the edges, feeling your composure threaten to slip.

“It’s nothing.”

There was a slight shake in your voice, the tiniest of a waver. You couldn’t tell if your friends noticed, their faces unreadable to you. A moment of silence stretched across the room, the food long forgotten about. In the end, it was slightly tipsy Jimin, the one who started it all, to break the awkwardness.

“Okay, well, do I text them… yes or-?”

You wondered if Jimin was this stupid, or trying to put you through hell on purpose. His question made Taehyung next to him sigh and shake his head, lips pressed together as he stared daggers into the older one.

“What?” Jimin whispered, offended. Maybe you should have taken the wine from him sooner.

You looked at Jungkook finally. He didn’t seem to have an answer at all, his eyes big and wide like a child’s. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost seemed like he wanted you to agree, say yes, of course, you’d meet his parents. You had to be imagining it. As quickly as it had come, you squashed the thought.

It was up to you. The decision was in your hands. Everyone was waiting for your answer. Jungkook would have to go with whatever you were saying, whether or not he liked it.

A lot of it was probably spite, spite that Narae met them already and you hadn’t. And how would it look if you weren’t there when Jungkook inevitably made a post about being back home with his family and you weren’t there in the pictures? What would Narae think? You could already see a backhanded Instagram story in front of your eyes, how there was trouble in paradise. It was something you wouldn’t put past her at all, seeing as she had done so before, posting just an hour after Jungkook celebrated your one month anniversary about how cringe some couples could be. Anyone doubting your relationship might just lead to Taehyung doubting your relationship and then to Jungkook losing his bet and all of this would have been for nothing. That couldn’t happen, right? You had to do something against it!

“They probably won’t stop bothering you until you tell them yes, right?”

You tried your hardest to sound casual, nonchalant, chill as some might say. This was no big deal, you told yourself.

It wasn’t what Jungkook had expected. He thought you’d give some roundabout answer that in the end summarised that you needed to keep things slow and easy. But you agreed. You were going to meet his parents. He searched for something in your features, anything to tell him how you genuinely felt about it. He was trying to read you, but it was like he had the wrong dictionary.

“If that’s alright with you-” Maybe it was to hit the nail on the head, finish it off, you couldn’t say. But the urge was strong right then, just once to say it. “—babe?”

You turned to him and looked at him almost confidently. It was both your face and the pet name, but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, now you were going to call him babe. A grin spread across his lips.

“Okay, yeah.” He held your hand firmer and tighter. “I’d be more than happy for you to meet my parents. They’d be thrilled.”

He was a great liar. It sounded oh so very genuine.

You squeezed his hand and turned to Jimin. “I guess you can text them I’m going.”

“I think that was it,” Jungkook said, handing you the last few dirty plates.

“Alright,” you hummed, moving around some of the dishes to make some more space in the dishwasher.

“Oh,” Chaeyoung exclaimed in surprise upon seeing Jungkook standing there with you, “you can head out first. I’ll help Y/N.”

She wore a smile on her lips, but you knew better.

“It’s fine. I’ll just help-”

“No, really, get out,” Chaeyoung interrupted, slipping just the slightest bit and you gave Jungkook a look, almost reaching out for his hand and giving it a squeeze. She was curt, too curt. It surprised him, clearly. “I’m the host. I’ll clean up. Join the others in the living room.”

You offered him a nod, and with that Jungkook slipped out, receiving a more genuine smile and a quiet thank you from Chaeyoung on the way out because she knew he was more than confused by her just now. Before he even had the chance to turn to ask whether or not he should close the door, she did herself. You knew to prepare yourself, putting the stack of dishes aside. She folded her arms in front of her stomach.

This was an interrogation.

In another world (read: in a detective TV show), there’d be a metal table between you and you’d be handcuffed to it. A clock would decorate the blank walls, ticking away in the background, and the air would be chilly and humid, stifling almost. Chaeyoung would dramatically slide pictures across to you, and they would be incriminating ones, blurry but clearly depicting you in the middle of whatever crime you were accused of. She would point at them and tell you how you had one chance to tell her the truth.

“How are you?”

Just the question almost made you laugh. It was heartwarming. You knew exactly what she was trying to get out of you—if it hurt you at all that Narae had met Jungkook’s parents and he had seemingly wanted to keep you a secret. You dried your hands on the kitchen towel.

“I’m fine, thanks. How are you-”

“Are you lying?”

She took this very seriously, her face not even holding a hint of a smile. Again, in another world she’d stare you down, gaze cold and unwavering, and ask if you wanted to try again.

“Do I look like I am lying?”

You were lying about all of it, about most things concerning Jungkook and you these days. But you couldn’t say that. You couldn’t admit that the entire conversation during dinner hurt you to the degree it did, to a degree you would rather not admit, that it hurt at all to begin with. Because being hurt implied you had some sort of right to be, implied Jungkook owed you… something. And that was just not true.

Chaeyoung paused, sizing you up. It was hard to figure out what conclusion she came to, her eyes narrowed and sharp. She opened her mouth, but right then, someone announced themselves with a knock on the door. Without waiting, they poked their head in, and it could realistically only be one person.

“What did she say?” Jisoo asked.

Were you air today?

“Says she’s fine,” Chaeyoung said, wrinkling her nose.

“You don’t believe her?” Jisoo slipped inside and slowly closed the door, making sure beforehand though that no one was in earshot. Chaeyoung scrutinised you for another moment before coming to her conclusion with a long sigh.

“No, I do.” She paused before looking at you. “You know I’d- we’d rip him into pieces for you, right?”

You had no doubt for a second they would. Actually, all of your friends would, but Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be the first ones to throw a punch.

“I do, and I love you guys for it,” you say, smiling genuinely because God, you did love your friends so much. “But you don’t have to because I’m fine. And like I said, we had talked about it. You know how I am. Parents aren’t my thing.”

“Well, for that you just agreed to go meet them,” Jisoo mumbled, scrunching her nose, and you swallowed. Maybe it was hearing it from someone else, or maybe it was because you were no longer sitting around the dinner table with everyone expectedly staring at you and awaiting for an explanation, but it finally hit you. What exactly you had agreed to. Once your mind wasn’t clouded with the thought of Narae, you realised that oh my God, you were meeting Jungkook’s parents.

It was funny how quickly things could change. How just a few minutes ago, you didn’t worry about it at all, only thinking of Narae and her stupid perfect grin and the fact she had met them, and now you were worried because what would they say about you? Would they like you? What if they were like Jaehwa’s parents and-

“Now, don’t make that face,” Chaeyoung interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder, noticing your spiral. “They’re gonna like you.”

“Yeah, you don’t have anything to worry about at all, Y/N,” Jisoo reassured. “If anything, they should be on their best behaviour. Because if not…”

And like the amazing friend she was, Jisoo started punching the air, showing you her swift moves that she would put on Jungkook’s parents.

“Can’t you see? They say one wrong thing, and it’d be over for them. Ji would do these weird punches and knock them right out,” Chaeyoung said. “It’s gonna be fine. Has to.”

“Also, with the way Jungkook acts with you, let’s be honest he’s head over heels for you,” Jisoo argued, putting an arm around you. “I can see him standing up for you.”

“Yeah, I hate to give a man any credit, but he would.”

“And again, if he doesn’t…” Jisoo didn’t finish her sentence, instead showing you her oh so brilliant and not wobbly but actually super fatal kick.

They both turned to you, and you slowly nodded. Maybe they were right. You didn’t necessarily think Jungkook would stand up for you, not because you didn’t believe he would but because you didn’t even let yourself go there. If you did, if you assumed he would do something like that for you, you’d be having expectations for him and you had no right to. But you knew that Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be there for you, and it was a comforting thought. That was enough. Your friends were enough. And maybe, you just liked to believe them too—that it would all somehow turn out just fine.

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumbled.

“It’s gonna be fine!” Chaeyoung repeated, squeezing your shoulder.

Before you could dwell on it any further, a knock on the kitchen door interrupted you.

“Yeah?” Jisoo said, and a moment later, Hoseok stuck his head in, offering an apologetic smile because he obviously knew what was going on in here.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Jimin asked for you, Chae,” he said, sounding unsure. He clearly hadn’t gotten a reason as to why he was supposed to call for Chaeyoung. She frowned and seemed less than willing to go, but you saw this as a great opportunity to put an end to this conversation and move on. Ignoring the fact you were going to meet Jungkook’s parents wasn’t going to solve the issue, but right now your brain felt mushy and drained. Too much of today’s focus had been on you, you couldn’t do it any longer.

“Let’s just all go,” you said. “We’ve been here for too long anyway.”

Jisoo agreed, mumbling something about how she couldn’t leave Jennie alone with all of the guys outside any longer, not in good conscience at least. She helped you put the last few plates into the dishwasher, and hooked her arm with yours as you made your way back into the living room, her head resting on your shoulder.

“Did he say what he wanted?” Chaeyoung asked Hoseok, the two walking behind you.

“Probably something stupid.”

And indeed it was.

Because the moment Jisoo and you had made it past the doorstep, Jimin jumped up and pointed at Chaeyoung and Hoseok. The two froze, all eyes on them, and when you turned to look, you found them in the same fate as Jungkook and you had been in earlier.

“Oh, Jimin,” you chuckled, shaking your head. He beamed with pride, chest out and a grin bigger than his entire face.

“We aren’t-” Chaeyoung couldn’t even finish her sentence, sputtering for words. “No! This is… stupid!”

“You have to. Otherwise, it’s bad luck,” Jungkook grinned. “That’s what you said, right, Seok?”

Hoseok looked positively ready to strangle him, but you couldn’t have been prouder of him right now. Even though Jimin was the one to orchestrate this, it felt like sweet revenge to get back at Hoseok. And really, you were helping him and Chaeyoung. Maybe today was the day finally something would happen.

“Seok and I aren’t- we aren’t-”

“It’s just a kiss!” Seokjin said, and you nodded. Because as much as you felt for them, having been in their position, you knew Chaeyoung wouldn’t have come to your rescue. She might have disapproved, but she would have definitely enjoyed the show and let it go on until you kissed.

“Just do a quick peck,” Taehyung suggested, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek to demonstrate. The older one wiped his cheek and shook his head, but there was clear amusement tugging on the corners of his mouth too. You laughed at the absurdity of it all, especially when you caught the embarrassed looks on Chaeyoung’s and Hoseok’s faces.

“Also if you hadn’t walked in together like I had predicted you obviously would, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Jimin said, and Hoseok let out a noise that could only be described as a weak and mangled attempt at faux upset. “You guys are so clearly in love with each other anyway, just kiss!”

“Oh my God,” Chaeyoung let out a scoff, but it sounded pitchy and panicked, “seriously? H-how many times do we have to tell you guys that we are just really good friends? Just like Jimin and Y/N!”

“Don’t be ridiculous here, Chae,” you laughed. “Jimin and I are just friends, but you two? Oh, please.”

“There was an attempt, huh?”

Chaeyoung glared at Jisoo, her cheeks gaining a deeper shade of red with every passing second. In a last ditch attempt, she turned to Hoseok, hoping for some backup from him.

“Tell them-”

This time when her sentence got lodged in her throat, it was for a very different reason. Because Hoseok was looking at her like he was ready to risk it all in front of everybody. Like he was ready to just say it, do something. And Chaeyoung knew, freezing to a statue.

Jisoo and you looked at each other, gasping. Her nails dug into your arm and you held onto her just as strongly. Your breath hitched in your throat as Hoseok placed a hand on Chaeyoung’s cheek, pausing and hesitating for a moment, as if he waited for her to reject him before ultimately kissing her. And instantly, she pulled him closer.

It was like a scene out of every 2000s romantic comedy, the finale of the third act, what you had all been waiting up to. It was a scene to swoon and die for.

A sense of joy you had rarely felt overtook you, a rush. You began shaking Jisoo, mouth split into a grin. As much as you had wanted and actually still wanted to strangle Jimin tonight for bringing that stupid mistletoe, you were just about ready to kiss him (platonically and only figuratively of course).

“See!” Jimin laughed, pointing at Hoseok and Chaeyoung, both of them flushed red to the tips of their ears. But they were smiling too. This had been good.

“I can’t believe that this is how you guys get together,” Jisoo laughed, Chaeyoung and Hoseok looking at each other, his arm wrapped around her middle. They laughed, shrugging.

Jimin proudly pointed at himself, beaming brighter than a Christmas tree. “All my doing.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi laughed, trying and failing to kick him in the knee. And though his attempt wasn’t successful, it earned him a thank you! from Chaeyoung. Jimin looked over to Namjoon for some kind of help, but he simply shrugged. He scoffed when he saw Seokjin squeeze Yoongi’s shoulder, mumbling something about how he was just jealous.

“I mean… neither did I,” Hoseok chuckled, seeming still completely out of it, unbelieving.

“Thought about it a lot, huh?” Taehyung asked, grinning, and for a moment, you could see Hoseok struggling to answer, decide whether or not he wanted to admit the blatant truth, confess that he’d been imagining this more times than he should have. In the end, he cared less about saving face and looking cool, and much more about who he had his arm wrapped around, finally.

“Yeah, always.”

And just like that, Chaeyoung pulled him down for another kiss. The sight warmed Jisoo’s heart because she turned to Jennie, reaching out for her. With a slight tug, she was at Jennie’s side. You laughed, shaking your head, just to catch Jungkook looking at you. For a moment, you didn’t quite know what to do even though you weren’t the one caught staring. The same couldn’t be said about Jungkook. He didn’t seem to care at all, eyes not holding an ounce of uncertainty. It was obvious that he was much more confident and comfortable with being seen by you. Something you still weren’t at this point, not entirely at least, not right in this very moment, or… actually ever.

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he stretched his hand out. You hesitated, if just for a second. Because maybe you shouldn’t. Not when your heart was beating the way it was. And yet, you did take it, did let him pull you close and hold you and press his lips to the top of your head.

“You don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to.”

He whispered it, spoke in a soft and warm voice. His words floated to your ears, and you knew. You didn’t have to do anything ever actually. Not for him at least. He expected nothing from you. You closed your eyes, and listened to his heartbeat in his chest. Strong and firm. It was the opposite of yours. Yours was a mess, thumping and skipping beats.

“I will.”

Jungkook smiled as bright as the sun, pressing another kiss to your head. You could feel the excitement rushing through his fingertips, his arm tightening around you. You didn’t know the reason for it, his excitement. It didn’t make sense why he would be, you weren’t his girlfriend after all. You refused to think about it, preferring the bliss of ignorance.

God, you loved him so much. You did. You loved Jungkook to an indescribable amount. And God, was it time to stop all of this.

The video had been playing for less than twenty seconds when the call came in, your phone lighting up beside you. You paused your laptop, his name taking up your entire phone screen. And though Jungkook and you had begun calling each other more frequently now, spending at least once a week on the phone together, you were confused when you glanced at the time. But you accepted the call, sliding your thumb over the glass. Some ruffling met your ears before finally, he came through.

“Hi.”

For some reason, there was a smile on your lips.

“What do you want?” you laughed, glancing at the time in the upper left corner of your phone. 01:24. “It’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Could say the same about you,” Jungkook argued, and you rolled your eyes, scoffing slightly, already sensing where this was going. You leaned back into your couch, looking at the ceiling with renewed interest.

“I’m not tired.”

“Neither am I.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then neither do I.”

“Well, you had a full day of classes today, so you must be at least a little tired,” you shot back, and a beat of silence passed. For a moment, it seemed like you came out victorious.

“You know my schedule?”

The question hung in front of you, and you were glad that this was just a call. Because you could see it, his stupid face. The proud smile on his lips, the grin that adorned it. He would inch closer to you, push you to answer, and you would cave and crumble terribly.

“... no.”

And Jungkook began laughing almost immediately, his voice booming through your phone. You cringed, biting your tongue.

“I’m going to hang up.”

“No, no, no, don’t,” he said, still laughing however. “I’m sorry.”

His apology didn’t sound an ounce sincere, but you were never going to actually hang up. A comfortable silence passed, and you could have stayed on the phone forever.

“Oh, have you watched the newest video I sent you yet?”

“You mean the two hour long video essay about the phenomenal music scoring of Avatar?” you hummed, glancing over to your laptop to see the screen dark already. “Yeah, I was about to watch it when you called.”

Somehow, you could hear his smile forming on his lips. “You should watch it.”

“Yeah, I will,” you said, sighing and rolling your eyes.

There was silence for another few seconds.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, and you could tell he was genuinely curious. You blinked, having completely forgotten what you had been up to until he called. You looked at the ball of yarn sitting in your lap, your attempt at a scarf hanging between the two knitting needles. But you couldn’t tell him, it would ruin the surprise.

And so, you returned the question instead. “What are you doing?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

Jungkook sighed. “You’re very fun to talk to sometimes, you know?”

You laughed, not missing the irony in his voice. “Thanks. You are too.”

“Just tell me,” he said, and you frowned at his poor attempt to get you to talk.

“Why don’t you tell me first?”

He let out a small scoff, and you could picture his face perfectly. The way his tongue would be digging into his cheek and his eyes rolling back because God, you were frustrating sometimes! But there would be an undeniable smile on his lips. There always was.

“Alright,” Jungkook said, and you raised your brows. “I’m outside.”

You frowned. “Where are you going? At this hour?”

“Why don’t you guess?”

“Just tell me.”

He paused, hesitated. Somehow, you could hear his grin turn bigger.

“How about you look outside and see for yourself instead?”

Your heart sank in your chest, something strange taking hold of you. You moved without a thought, almost knocking over one of your pothos sitting on your window sill when you pulled the curtain aside. The glass was cool to touch, but you pressed your entire hand against it, just to feel something steady. Because right now, you felt the opposite of it, heart jumping to your throat and beating there like it was bound to fall out. Because there was no way that he was here right now! This wasn’t a cheesy romcom! But you also knew that he wouldn’t lie to you.

And he didn’t.

There he was, standing on the sidewalk, in front of your building, phone pressed to his ear, head in his neck, mouth in a grin and waving up to you.

You opened and closed your mouth several times, scoffing in the end and shaking your head.

“You’re so… stupid, Jeon.”

Jungkook laughed, “Well, that’s been established before.”

“You’re such a ridiculous stupid little man, Jeon!” you went on, pressing a hand to your forehead and squeezing your eyes closed for a moment. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, is it a crime now to drop by your girlfriend’s home when you miss her?”

The words rolled off his tongue with a certain confidence and ease. Two things you rarely ever had, even less around Jungkook. It always seemed so very fragile and dangerous, to be so open and vulnerable. You couldn’t snap back, tell him how ridiculous he was because you had just seen each other two days ago at the Christmas party. Hell, you had been spending almost every day with each other—either on the phone or in person driving to Seo’s bakery to pick up your needed batch of cookies or watching Avatar until you both could recite every line. And yet here he was, telling you that he missed you, so much so that he needed to see you in the middle of the night, at 1:42.

Right then, it became blatantly obvious to you—that Jungkook and you had crudely blown the lines you had established beforehand, agreed to contractually, into absolute smithereens, that you two had made new ones, dangerous ones, ones that resembled an actual relationship, and that, even worse, you had not only never talked about it but gotten used to the new rules, comfortable.

And even with that realisation lingering in your mind with big glaring bright red flags hissed high above and every possible alarm blaring in the air, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Jungkook that this was wrong, that he should go home. You should, it would spare your sanity. But your heart had only grown bigger and fonder of him. And it was horrible because you knew even more time with him, alone, in your own four walls, was the worst thing you could do. There would be nowhere for you to go, run off to. But you couldn’t send him home. Because really, you didn’t want to. Because it did excite you. That he was here. That he had gotten up, changed, and made his way to you. That the cold hadn’t even been enough to stop him.

“Now, open up. It’s freezing. My hands and feet are already blue,” he told you, adding a dramatic shiver to his words.

You paused, frowned, searched and didn’t see it anywhere. It clicked with you. You hadn’t heard the engine or turn signal during the entirety of your call.

“Did you- did you walk here? Why didn’t you take your car?”

“Felt like it.”

“You’re so stupid, oh my God,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you repeatedly pressed the buzzer to open the front door for him. “Never ever do that again. It’s freezing outside!”

Jungkook responded with a laugh. It echoed on the walls of your empty lobby, reverberating through the phone. “Alright, I won’t. I promise.”

“Also, shouldn’t you be writing that stupid paper about Newton or Einstein or whatever?”

“It’s not about either of them, but I still have a bit of time until the deadline,” he explained, and you heard him walk up the stairs. “Thanks for remembering though.”

You pressed your lips together. “What if I was sleeping?”

“But you aren’t.” He sounded so incredibly smug and proud. You could have punched him. “Also, I know you, cabbage. You’d rather die than go to bed at a reasonable time.”

And somehow, that admission embarrassed you. It did. Terribly. Because he did, he did know you oh so well.

You left the front door ajar for him, waiting there with your hands folded in front of you, fingers picking on each other, as you listened to his steps grow closer and louder. His hand was the first thing you saw, reaching and touching the doorknob, and then it was suddenly just all of him. In front of you. He smiled at your sight, and you knew you looked more embarrassed and unsure than ever before. You were relieved you still hadn’t changed the lightbulb that had burned through all those months ago, allowing the dark to obscure you from him, a soft shadow across your face.

Jungkook shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the hook behind the front door and revealing his maroon knit sweater and black pants to you. When he looked at you again, his gaze softened.

“Hi, cabbage.” His cheeks and nose were brutally red from the wind, but he seemed as happy as ever. “I made you something.”

You noticed the metal lunchbox in his hands only when he pushed it towards you, and when you took it, it was still warm. Like whatever he had prepared, he had packed up the minute it was done and came straight to you.

“What did you make?” you asked, and you knew he wouldn’t tell you, waiting for you to open the lunchbox instead and discover for yourself. You peeled open the lid just a little, revealing a small corner when the smell hit you. Your eyes shot to Jungkook, and he looked both sheepish and proud.

“You didn’t.”

A gasp, your features melting. He wrinkled his nose, turned his head to the side.

“I was gonna go get some from Seo’s Bakery, but they- did you know they’re on Christmas break?”

You nodded, eyes unable to take off of him, blabbering, “Yeah, of course. They always are. Every Christmas. Have always been.”

Jungkook made a gesture towards you, shrugging. “Well, so I thought- I don’t know. I’d make you some instead. You gotta fuel your addiction somehow, right?”

There was no denying how many sweet gestures Jungkook had made ever since you’d been doing this (whatever one might classify this as). The amount of flowers and cookies he’d showered you with. The amount of smiles and laughs he’d pulled from you. The amount of love he’d shown you, even if it wasn’t real.

You put the lunchbox aside, needing to return the gesture at least once. Leaning over your couch, you grabbed the half-finished scarf you’d made for him. You wanted to show him, reciprocate some of the affection and love. But in your haste, you forgot the ball of yarn the scarf was connected to.

“Oh, fuck.”

Like a roll of paper, it unfurled, and though it would be annoying to roll it all up again, you shoved the scarf into Jungkook’s face, uncaring.

“It’s not finished- or particularly well done. But- I made that… for you,” you hesitated, a lump lodged in your throat. “I also just chose a random colour- if you don’t like red, I could definitely change it, you know. It’s not even done-”

He took it from your hands, silencing you. Your brows knit together as you watched him admire the intricate and detailed rows of red yarn. And then, he wrapped it around his neck even though the scarf was still attached to the ball of yarn and the knitting needles were poking into his neck.

“Wait, no,” you laughed, already reaching to take it off. “You don’t have to wear it or anything- Like I said, it’s not even done. I still have to-”

Jungkook took hold of your hands. Your eyes met his. He smiled at you.

“You’re so cute, cabbage,” he told you, his gaze so full and soft. And you melted right then and there, your face lit up like a fire. Melted even more so when Jungkook kissed you and pressed his forehead against yours. “I love it, cabbage. Thank you so much.”

“Really?” you said it softly, delicately, anxiously.

As if it was a proper way of responding, Jungkook took your hand and placed it on his chest. You could feel it then, under your palm and fingertips, through the fabric of his sweater, his heart.

“Really.”

And you let yourself believe him a little.

You don’t know how. It was blurry to you, all of it, but somehow, his head ended up in your lap with your fingers threading through his hair and your back pressed to the side of your bed. You both shared the batch of cookies while you finished a few more rows for the scarf before ultimately calling it, putting it to the side, promising him you’d finish it as soon as possible. Instead, a bottle of supermarket wine found its way into your hands, the glasses always filled with the red liquid. Neither of you said much. And really, there simply wasn’t a need to, the minutes ticking by as the night went on and on. An intimacy lay between you, an intimacy most would never know, an intimacy that could only come from the strange nature of your relationship.

“What?” you said, almost laughing, sure you had to have misheard him.

“I’m serious. I really like it here,” Jungkook repeated. “I like your home, a lot.”

Your mouth opened and closed before you shook your head and laughed. “But why?”

To you, there wasn’t much to like about your home here. If anything there was more to dislike than like. It was too cramped, too small. The furniture was old and shabby and the lights didn’t even work properly. On bad days, it would get either unbearably freezing or hot in here. And on particularly bad days where your luck had run out, the water would run cold and the electricity cut out. There wasn’t much to love here, except for your big bed and pothos you had on your window sill.

“I feel like I get to see another side of you,” Jungkook told you, shrugging and wrinkling his nose. “You seem much more relaxed at home.”

You frowned. “Where else should I be relaxed if not at home?”

He rolled his eyes at your comment, shaking his head. “No, I just mean… you don’t seem on guard at home.”

“I’m on guard?”

There was a pause. He looked at you for a long time, eyes wandering across your entire face.

“Yeah, sometimes.” He wrinkled his forehead a little. “I think you used to be more on guard, or at least you were around me.” There was another pause, another beat, another moment of suspense. “Wouldn’t you say you’ve opened up to me more since you let me in here for the first time?”

The question stumped you. Because did everything really change then? You couldn’t say. To a certain degree, Jungkook was right. Things had drastically shifted between him and you. Before you would have never been in this position—on the floor together, in your home, his head in your lap and your hands combing through his hair as you shared cookies and wine. But before you would have talked about it, established rules and laws and all kinds of conditions, and gone through every possibility. Now though, the two of you had gotten awfully comfortable with just simply not.

“Why? Because I slept with you?” you quipped, knowing already even in your slightly tipsy state that it wasn’t that.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said, sighing. You wrinkled your nose and looked to the ceiling for a few moments, leaning your head back.

“Should I be on guard?”

“Around me?” Jungkook said, shaking his head. “No, never. I’m an honest boy.”

You laughed, even more so when you looked at him and he was grinning proudly into your face, standing by his cheesy words. “You make me want to kick you out.”

“Please don’t,” he said, offering you puppy eyes and snuggling even closer to you. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you did.”

He winced when you tugged on his hair, slightly away from you. “You’re annoying.”

Jungkook laughed, and you went back to silence for a while.

“Are you ever going to tell me what Joon and the others said to you that made you run into the bathroom the other day?”

It was probably the alcohol, all the time you had spent together, sitting there on the cold floor. Your mind wasn’t the clearest anymore, and neither was his.

“They just told me how whipped you are for me. How deeply and madly you’re in love with me,” you snorted, teasingly inching closer to his face with each word before pulling away.

He smiled a little, clearly expecting worse. “Really? They said that?”

“I know.” You took two big sips, downing more than half of what was in the glass, not wanting to lose that fuzzy feeling in your veins. “It’s funny, right?”

You snorted, knowing exactly what he was thinking—That was ridiculous!

“But true.”

Jungkook didn’t hesitate. But he said it softly. So softly in fact you looked at him to check that you hadn’t made it up. When his mouth widened into a grin, you scoffed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“It’s true. I do. I am.”

It sounded so very ironic to your ears. You shook your head and scoffed. “Is that what you told Narae too?”

Her mention from your lips surprised Jungkook, his eyes growing a little wider. You were equally as taken aback. But it was true. Because you did think about it sometimes if he did and said the same things to Narae. If everything you experienced with him had been experienced before, just with someone else, someone with a perfect smile and perfect parents.

“You don’t know me at all, Y/N,” Jungkook mumbled, and it sounded accusatory.

Your heart dropped in your chest. It felt like you were shot, the hurt instant. You looked away, teeth sinking into your tongue. But he wasn’t off. You didn’t know Jungkook very well. Why should you though? Not like he and you were anything meaningful, like you shared anything truthful. And it was so very embarrassing, so very embarrassing that you felt hurt at all.

Jungkook seemed to surprise himself with his words, seemed not to mean it like that because he was scrambling the very next second, lifting up from your lap and pleading for you to look his way.

“No, no, no, I-I don’t mean it like that,” he said, voice a little higher than usual, reaching for your hand, squeezing. There’s a desperation in his voice, a panic swinging with it that he might have just ruined a perfectly fine conversation.

“You just seem to,” he hesitated, “have this very weird and funny idea of me in your head. I-I never told Narae anything like that. You’re the first one.”

You looked at him. There was a deep crease between his brows, and he went on when you wouldn’t say anything.

“You’re the only one who’s ever made me do these weird things, you know?” He added a chuckle, but there wasn’t much humour to it at all. You tried to smile for him, feeling this conversation was taking a rather serious turn. It was in dire need of some lightness.

“I make you do weird things?” you mumbled, slightly shaking your head, looking away. “I don’t think I’m capable of that.”

“Do you really think I’d try to bake cookies for anyone else in the middle of the night? Or walk to their home at night, not knowing if they’re even actually home because I wanted to surprise them? Or send every Avatar video essay I come across? Do you really think I’d want to dress up with anyone else in a couple’s costume than you?”

You couldn’t find the right response then, your lips pressing together. It was difficult for you to say whether or not you believed him. Because you didn’t think you did, not genuinely at least, not deep down. You never really did with Jungkook, believe him. Because you never let yourself go there, not fully. In the back of your mind, you knew that this was ending, only started because of a stupid little meaningless bet, that your relationship whichever form it had morphed to had no real genuine basis.

“Do you really think I’d tell anyone else I-”

You shoved a cookie into his mouth, silencing him. Your gaze turned sideways, it was easier to speak for you then. If you looked at Jungkook, you wouldn’t be able to say anything.

“Alright, I got it, Jeon. Now, eat your cookie and shut up,” you chuckled, and your words were accompanied with a lightness, a lightness you forced out of yourself and hoped was enough to quiet Jungkook. He stared at you, eyes big, before ultimately letting out a chuckle himself when he saw you smile at him. He held onto your hand, squeezing it.

“If I wasn’t too lazy to reach for my phone, I’d take a picture of you right now,” he told you with his mouth stuffed, matching your tone, keeping it light and fun. It was amazing, how both of you simply moved on. He broke off a piece and held it to your mouth. You took it from his fingertips, letting him feed you. The sugar melted on your tongue. “Really thought you had learned your lesson, you know? That you were less judgemental now.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, still chewing. He laughed when you rolled your eyes.

For a few minutes, neither of you said anything. It seemed like the moment had resolved as easily as it had come up. You took a few sips from your glass, filling it back up when you emptied it, and Jungkook shared the last bite of the cookie with you, holding the piece in front of your lips and allowing you to pull it from his fingertips. And when he kept his fingers in front of your mouth, you pressed a quick kiss to them. He smiled and took your hand into his again, fingers interlacing.

“You’re so weird,” you said, the corners of your eyes creasing when you smiled.

Jungkook returned it, opened his mouth to retort something clever and funny, but it was like the fire died in him, as if he simply couldn’t let the moment from before slide as easily as you both had hoped and tried for it to. He reached for it again, pulling it back on shore. His face changed, morphed into something else. You couldn’t pinpoint his exact expression, but your stomach churned. For a second, you felt this brief need to cry.

“You—” He hesitated, afraid to ask because he knew you didn’t want him to and he shouldn’t but he needed to ask. “—believe me, right?”

And somehow that question carried the entire weight of the earth because you suffocated underneath it in an instant. There seemed to be so much. It didn’t make sense, there shouldn’t be any deeper meaning behind his question. After all, he and you weren’t anything! And yet, he looked at you as if you were. When you wouldn’t respond, looked away instead, Jungkook let out a chuckle. But it sounded empty and dry, and you knew you had hurt him.

“I’m sorry.”

There was a sadness to your words, and he noticed. It was the same kind of sadness he heard colouring your words when you had told him about Jaehwa and the heartbreak that had come with him. And he knew then not to take it to heart, your inability to believe him.

“I’m sorry. I want to- It’s just-”

There was desperation, hurt, frustration. You buried your face into your hands, eyes closing. It’s just hard sometimes! I don’t really believe anyone really, you wanted to say. But you didn’t. The admission felt too much, too hard to bring over your lips, too honest. You couldn’t do it.

Jungkook didn’t say anything, and you waited for him to take all of his things and go. The front door would click shut and with that, you would have ruined it, all of it, the past few months. But it didn’t happen. You didn’t hear his steps moving away from you, or the front door opening. Instead, Jungkook cupped your face with both of his hands, a smile on his lips when you finally looked at him.

“It’s fine.”

And you wished it felt like that to you. Fine. But you hadn’t felt quite fine for a while now. Not since your heart began filling up every time you looked at him.

“Is it?”

His gaze softened, melted like the first layer of snow in the early morning hours. His thumb brushed over your cheekbones, and his touch was so very warm and comforting. You closed your eyes, and he pressed his lips to yours. It did feel fine right then when he kissed you. He held you firmly and strongly, he wasn’t going to let go. Even if you might not believe him and had your doubts. Your hands curled around his shirt, and you were the one to pull it off of him. Because you needed that right now, something simple.

“Are you sure-”

You silenced him, removing your shirt. He looked at you for another second before kissing you again. You moved up from the floor to your bed. His lips pressed to every inch of your skin, slow and delicately. Your breathing flattened, soft whimpers emerging from your throat when his hands wandered, brushed the inside of your thighs. Jungkook was everywhere, holding and gripping and squeezing and kissing. It made your chest swell, and for a second, you thought you needed a second heart. Another one to hold it all in. All the feelings brewing inside you, all of your feelings for him. It was too much to bear for your one singular heart.

He held you, stayed close. He never allowed any space between him and you, never allowed you to think he’d get up and leave. And you never let him slip away from you, not tonight, caging him in. One day he would, you were certain of it, convinced. The contract was running up with each day, but right now, he was here, closer than ever.

And in the high of it all, your breaths mixed with his, the air smelling of sweat and lust, your faces flushed and bodies sticky, there were words lying between him and you. In fact, there was so much, it felt heavy. You hoped, in vain, he would let it slide, quietly.

“Y/N, I-”

Jungkook stopped when you shook your head, pleading. You knew the ending of his sentence, he had told you it many times before. And right now, the thought of hearing it, hurt you more than it ever had before.

“I-”

But he stopped again when you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his in response, hands cupping his face. He hesitated at first before kissing you back, hoping you’d understand either way. That he wanted this. That he wanted you. You didn’t say it, but Jungkook knew not to cross that line, not right now. As if him not saying it would prevent the inevitable heartbreak you’d be going through in just a few weeks, would change anything. As if you didn’t already love him more than you could comprehend. As if loving him didn’t hurt you.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook implied smut #bts x reader

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peachypinkygloss · 10 months

Text

call me later — jjk

Summer break is always your favourite period of the year, enjoying the fresh water of the pool and the sun kissing your skin. Everything's going great until a sudden boy appears in your life and becomes the centre of your world.

☼ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

☼ genre: strangers to fwb to lovers, summer break au, university au, smut

☼ word count: 2.5k

☼ warnings: kinda inspired by outer banks, rich kid!oc, jk's a munch, oc pushes jk away 😔, they're a bit awkward together lol, outdoor sex, unprotected oral sex, cunnilingus, fingering, brief overstimulation, cum eating.

a.n.: don't get fooled... this isn't cherry!jk ik this one's a munch too but they're very different. you'll see 😉

The sunlight gently graces the skin of your face, enveloping you in a warm embrace, relaxing both your limbs and mind. It's around one p.m., the perfect hour to sunbathe by the pool and to reread the PLL series.

That's what you had planned for today, but you ended up doing something vastly different. Something a bit unpredictable and perverted... To your defence, this would have never happened if he hadn't decided to show up.

Technically, he didn't decide, he's just following the schedule your dad gave him, but still. This isn't entirely your fault; it takes two people to do something like this.

Your chest heaves rapidly as you're looking down between your legs, a hand pulling on his black locks while the other is thrown over your forehead. The lounge chair doesn't allow you to have much space, but you're handling it pretty well you think.

He's handling it well too because you can't imagine how his knees must hurt right now. They're probably all red, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's such a good boy. He knows you'd do the same for him, so he doesn't complain.

Your book is long forgotten on the ground beside your chair and the bookmark has been quickly secured between the pages the moment things have begun to be more intense.

You softly moan, your sounds accompanying the chirps of the birds and the far away noises of the neighbours mowing their lawns. This is public, yet very private. The fences prevent anyone from looking — and there are small chances of people hearing you, considering how big your backyard is and how far your neighbours are — but that doesn't mean nobody can't walk in on you two.

This was really impulsive of you.

Though it's risky and kind of stupid, you regret nothing. How could you when he's so skilled with his tongue...

"Are you usually that vocal?" Jungkook wonders, a stupid grin drawn on his pretty face. He rubs slow circles on your clit to compensate for the loss of his mouth, waiting patiently for your answer.

You let out a pleasant sigh, watching the pads of his fingers playing with your pussy, tattoos inked on his skin and chunky rings adorning his fingers.

You sink your teeth in your bottom lip, collecting your thoughts as Jungkook traces your entrance, dipping his fingers in just a little bit. He really likes to tease.

"When I like the guy," you say breathily, lazy eyes blinking up to stare at him. This only brightens Jungkook's smile and you're confused as to why it makes your stomach flutter.

"You like me?" He smirks, satisfied you've just confessed to liking him.

But you didn't. Or did you? Damn it.

You roll your eyes and grip his hair again. "Get back to business," you groan. You don't miss the laugh he lets out while you push down on his head, shoving his face back between your thighs.

He slides his fingers in completely and you gasp softly, loving how they stretch you out really well. You roll your hips slightly, getting used to the feeling of being full.

Jungkook parts his fingers, scissoring your insides to see how much he can stretch your pussy. He hums as if he was listening to it, and you don't know what it told him, but that was surely good advice because the next thing he does sends you over the moon.

He pumps his fingers in you and wraps his lips around your clit, stimulating two areas at the same time. "Oh, my god, Jungkook," you moan in pleasure, twisting his hair in your fist.

You have a hard time focusing on anything else than him, feeling the cool silver of his piercings brushing against your skin and your wetness dripping down your ass every time he thrusts into you.

You pass your fingers through his hair, your eyes not once looking away from his pink lips sucking on your poor little clit. His digits enter and exit your wet cunt at a rapid pace, eliciting moans and whines out of you, taking your breath away.

You clench your thighs around his head, feeling so overwhelmed right now, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all, on the contrary. Your legs hang over his large shoulders, shaking a little bit as he darts his tongue out to lap at your swollen bud.

He's changed the rhythm of his fingers, going in less faster — but still fast enough to make you roll your eyes back — to go deeper instead. Your juices drip down to his knuckles and he can't believe how wet you are, especially during a hot temperature like this.

"Mmmh," you hear him mumble against your pussy, completely obsessed with it. "Your pussy's so wet, baby," he observes, circling your clit with his thumb to look at you for a second. "Taste so fucking sweet."

You know it's just dirty talk, but you have to admit it has your heart beating excitedly in your chest. He smiles at you as you're a little bit dizzy, drunk on your sexual pleasure.

"Thanks," you reply and he chuckles, finding adorable how you become a bit stupid from getting fucked by his fingers. He curls them into you and you moan out when he brushes against your magic spot, knitting your eyebrows together. "There!" You exclaim, feeling Jungkook's hot breath hitting your pussy as he tilts his head down to look at his hand.

"Right there, baby?" He repeats to make sure he has found the correct spot. You nod repeatedly when you feel the pads of his fingers patting the spongy spot inside you, the knot in your stomach tightening. "Yeah? Okay, I got you, princess," he coos and continues sensually moving his fingers in you.

He focuses on his digits, calculating every single one of his movements. Your pussy quivers around him and he understands you won't last long if he keeps going at this rhythm, but that's exactly his goal, so he continues.

Then he comes to lick at your puffy clit, left alone for too long now. You whimper when he does so, flattening his pink muscle over your bud and moving it from side to side, still pumping his big fingers in and out of your sloppy pussy.

"Fuck, Jungkook!" You whine, being so close to your orgasm. He has such a good technique that works for you, it's so hard to not fall apart as soon as he puts his mouth on you. "I'm gonna cum," you warn him, voice breathy and kind of desperate at this point.

He hums against you, sending vibrations through your body. You curl your toes as you feel it burning at the pit of your stomach, ready to rip off and send you over the edge.

"Don't stop, please," you beg him, but you don't have to worry, he has no intention of stopping, especially not when your moans sound so sweet to his ears.

You're not sure if you should cry, moan or scream. Your little brain is so confused, never been that close to an orgasm all because of a man's fingers and tongue.

Where was Jungkook all those times you couldn't make yourself cum or you were left frustrated by useless men who had absolutely no idea how a pussy worked? He really should have come sooner.

This is it, it grows rapidly in your stomach, a sensation so intense and euphoric, exploding and passing through your entire body like an avalanche. Your moans are stuck in your throat and your fingers pull harshly on Jungkook's hair, trying to not fall too far.

Your legs shake beside his head and he groans when you clench around him, sucking his fingers in, his tongue gently stroking your clit as you slowly drive off your high.

He slips out of your pussy, quickly licking his fingers clean before pulling your legs apart wider. He lowers his mouth to your quivering hole, literally making out with it and drinking your arousal out of you to satisfy his thirst.

He opens and closes his mouth on your pussy while your legs are still shaking, coming down from your previous orgasm. "Jungkook, this is too much," you say in a whiny voice, gasping softly when you feel his tongue teasing your entrance.

It's only when he hears the sound of a car parking at the front of the house that he pulls himself away from your leaking sex. You look at him, as confused as he is. He hurriedly wipes his chin with the back of his hand and he picks up your bikini bottom from the ground, handing it to you.

He stands up as you put back on your bikini. "I thought you said my dad wouldn't come back until five p.m.!" You whisper-shout at Jungkook, passing your fingers in your hair, trying to detangle it and make yourself presentable — and not like you've just received head from the hot guy your father hired to mow the lawn and maintain the pool this summer.

"Yeah, I thought so too," he answers, guilty he may have misheard what your dad said to him.

You sigh, taking your towel and your book in hand, ready to go back in the house, but before you can Jungkook grabs your arm. "Call me later, yeah?"

You look up at him, surprised he just asked you that. Does it mean he wants... more? See you in another context than at your house?

You swallow, wondering if that's what you want. You guess you never considered boys could be interested in knowing you or hanging out with you after having sex. You didn't think Jungkook would want that either.

Your attention is brought to your dad when he enters the backyard, waving at Jungkook and you. "Hey, kids!" He yells from across the yard and you can't help but roll your eyes. He walks up to you two and you wish you could escape, but you don't want to get reprimanded by your dad after.

"Hi, sir," Jungkook greets him, smiling politely. "I did the front of the house like you asked," he explains, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I've cut around the patio, too."

"That's awesome, you did a great job, Jungkook," your father nods his head, clearly a sign that he's really proud of him. "How long did it take you?"

"One hour and a half, I'd say," he answers, not really sure when he got the job done since, well, he's been a little distracted by something else.

"Good. I'll go take my wallet, I left it in the truck," he points behind him and then glances at you, giving you a tap on the back. "You enjoyed the pool, honey? You applied sunscreen, right?"

"Yes, dad," you groan. You want one thing and it's to get out of this awkward situation as soon as possible. Your father then disappears, going to take his wallet to pay Jungkook.

This one looks back at you, sweet eyes laying on you. "So?"

"I'll call you later," you confirm, not giving him time to answer and going back inside.

·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡

You look around the convenience store, searching for energy drinks. When you find them, you open the fridge's door, hesitating between a Rockstar or a Monster. There aren't many flavours, but you know you definitely won't take one without sugar. You decide to settle for a Monster, Pacific Punch flavour.

Now for the food. You eye the tteokbokki, but also the spicy ramen. You should combine both. And take some for your father, too. He always has night cravings like you.

As you check the different brands of ramen, wondering which one you feel like eating the most, someone says your name.

"You didn't call me."

You turn around and your eyes widen when you see Jungkook standing in front of you. Your heartbeat accelerates and you don't know what to say.

Your plan was to hide in the house the next time he'd come, avoiding him seemingly the best idea you've thought about, but of course, he had to find you here.

You feel bad as he looks at you with disappointed eyes as if he actually thought you'd call, that you were different and not like the others. Turns out that you're not. You're exactly like them, exactly like the people who you grew up with and who you live with.

"Um, well, I..." You stammer, caught red-handed. You glance down, biting down on your lip, too much of a coward to hold Jungkook's gaze. "No, I didn't," you sigh, admitting your mistake. "I... forgot."

He only lets out a 'mh' and you're really embarrassed. Yes, it was childish of you, but you don't understand what he expected. He works for your dad, you don't go to the same university, you don't have the same circle of friends, you have nothing in common.

Yet, when you look at him, it's like he knows everything about you — every single one of your secrets and fears.

"You don't have your eyebrow piercing anymore," you comment suddenly, desperately searching for a way to make things less awkward, to redeem yourself or whatever that would make him stop looking at you like you're a bad person.

He touches his eyebrow as if to confirm his piercing's really gone. "Yeah, it was a bitch to disinfect," he shrugs and hides his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

"I really liked it," you say honestly.

The corner of his mouth tugs upward and you can't help but do the same, butterflies erupting in your stomach. "I've noticed." His eyes glint and your face heats up immediately when you understand what he's referring to.

Last time, you couldn't stop running your fingers over his face, touching his eyebrow piercing when he was kissing you. You don't know why you were doing that, but there was something that really fascinated you about it.

Fortunately, Jungkook didn't mind you touching him. He quite really enjoyed it, in fact.

When he doesn't say anything else, you quickly take two packs of ramen with the tteokbokki and your energy juice. You turn around and Jungkook's still there.

"Are you eating with someone?" He questions and he knows how it sounds, but he's only curious. If it's the reason why you didn't call, he wants you to tell him.

"Um, it's for my dad and me," you reply. "We're the kind to eat at like... one a.m.," you chuckle and he smiles at the sound of your laugh. "And you?" You ask back even though he's not holding anything other than his cellphone.

"Oh, just filling up the gas tank," he points outside where his car is parked. "But I might take a snack. Yours make me hungry."

"You should," you nod your head.

He sends you a faint smile before passing by you, walking to the other aisle. You watch him for a second, analyzing his outfit. Black baggy jeans, a graphic white hoodie and beige beanie.

You go pay for your items and it's only when you push the door that you get a glimpse of Jungkook walking up to the cashier. He doesn't see you so you exit the store, refraining yourself from looking back.

·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡

a.n.: hellooo you guys... 🤭

i had jungkook working for oc's dad in mind for likeee a long time and since it's summer, i finally found the time to write it... i have more planned for this fic (obvi because I wouldn't make it end like this 🫣), so this isn't just a drabble, it's more like a test to see if you're interested in this story. so tell me if you want it to become a lil series. ngl, i'm very insecure about this one idk why 😭 but let me know if you'd like to read a next part!

part 1: call me later ☼ part 2: call me soon ☾ part 3: call me tomorrow ☼

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

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txt-trash · 10 months

Text

clever girl | choi soobin

summary: you’ve only ever viewed choi soobin as your rival in school. he was cute and sweet at times but for the most part he usually acted cold toward you—or at least tried to. out of nowhere you hear about his grades dropping and in an effort to save your only motivation to push yourself harder, you accept his persistent offer to tutor him. you quickly learn he had an ulterior motive to always get you to spend time with him and despite how mean you think you might be, Soobin loved it.

➣ college au, smüt, fluff, enemies to lovers [but it’s one-sided]

➣ academic rival!soobin x f!reader [she/her, afab]

➣ 13.8k words

warnings: smut. oc is kinda mean to soobin. soft jealousy scenes. soobin asks oc to tutor him. really clingy. super cute. the smut is… nashty lowkey. heavy on foreplay. oral [both receiving]. handjöb. oc sits on his face. virgin soobin/experienced oc. oc gets jealous at times too. oc is kinda possessive. sub/dom themes but I swear soobin is a switch. breastplay. missionary. no condom. a lot of plot. multiple orgasm. soobin got that cream im sorry. soobin is a known perv. oc got big boobs. soobin is very obviously a boob guy. oc is lowkey dom, aftercare bc soobin cries. oc calls him a perv, dirty talk. soobin is best boy but also brattiest boy.

You never considered yourself a particularly smart person. You weren’t gifted — as teachers would say — but you weren’t dumb either. You rode the fine line of somewhere in between but you also studied your ass off to get good grades so you could get a scholarship to the college of your dreams. It’s for that reason specifically that Choi Soobin drives you absolutely insane.

You’ve known him for two years but not close enough to consider him a friend. If anything you consider him the opposite of a friend. For the past two years he’s been your number one contender in class. He’s really smart, like book smart but lately he’s been plummeting his grades and that only seems to piss you off more. He’s the reason why you would push yourself so hard to be number one but now that he’s barely trying it’s not as fun. You’re a competitive person.

So, when he approached you today asking you if you could please tutor him you seriously stopped to think about it. If you tutored him then you could possibly have your competition back but tutoring him would also mean having to help him and he did not need your help. You knew he was smart enough to learn things on his own and he’s just in some sort of stump.

“Why don’t you hire one of those expensive tutors I know you can afford?” You asked him after pondering on it for damn near two minutes. You stood just outside the library where he had practically ambushed you before you could make it inside the building.

Soobin was one of those rich guys you weren’t so fond of. He had money, he didn’t have to work hard to get good grades and he could afford to go to any school he wants to while you have to work double as hard to do anything. Or course it’s not his fault but for him to ask you to tutor him when you know for a fact he doesn’t need you to just really bothers you.

He looked a bit lost by what you said, looking a bit bored like you’re the one holding him up instead of the other way around, “I don’t know, I figured you could help me out since we’re in the same major.”

You huffed out in annoyance, “Am I going to get paid?”

His eyes widened just slightly but you couldn’t if he was in surprise or in disbelief, “I guess, however much you want, I need the help.”

A small sigh left your lips as you rolled your eyes, “No you don’t, but whatever, if you pay me, I’ll think about it.”

“Can I get your number then?” Soobin asked, already taking his phone out. You didn’t say anything as you typed in your number and before he could say anything else, you left for the library.

He watched you leave without a smile on his face, keeping up his unamused act until you turned your back to him and his lips couldn’t help but curl up in a smile. Soobin knows it’s a bit weird for him to ask you to tutor him. You’re just one year younger than him but you take most of the same classes so he figured you were his best option.

And also… maybe he dropped his grades on purpose to have an excuse to talk to you but that’s something he’ll never admit to your face.

It all started two years ago. He had already been in school for a year or so and he was just soaring by. You were right when you said he could just hire some expensive tutor to help him but he never really needed it. He was book smart even though sometimes he lacked common sense in the real world. Growing up he had it all, tutors, piano lessons, private schooling, et cetera. He was a smart kid all the way until his third year of University.

Well… he’s still smart but things are different now. He’s spent the last two years practically racing you in classes you shared to do better like that would impress you but it didn’t work. Then, he tried being cold to you like you were to him but he could never do it right. It only seemed to push you away and after a while he realized the only reason why he did it was because he wanted to get a rise out of you. You just won’t notice him no matter how hard he tries to get you to and if this is the only way he’ll get you to talk to him more then he’s going to do it.

“So, did it work?” Kai asked, walking up behind Soobin and scaring the life out of him. Soobin released a loud yell that heads turning in his direction but he barely notice as he whipped around to face his friend, “Did what work?”

“Your little scheme to get Y/n to talk to you,” Kai said as he walked toward the library with Soobin on his tail, “What scheme?”

Kai stopped and gave him that look that told Soobin the gig was up, “You’ve been working on this for weeks now, you think I wouldn’t notice? You used to tutor me and now you’re saying you need to get tutored by the one person who seems to want nothing to do with you?”

Soobin cut in front of him to reach the door first as he swung it open, “No clue what you’re talking about. I’ve been struggling in class lately, probably stress over the internship this summer.”

“Right…” Kai rolled his eyes following his friend into the library, “Or the stress of getting ignored by Y/n no matter how hard you try. It’s been two years, pack it up already.”

“How do you know Y/n ignores me?” He asked getting into the elevator with his friend to get to the next level where more computers and desks were. Kai shrugs, “I mean it’s pretty obvious.”

It took days for you to get back to him and he waited anxiously to see what you would say. He didn’t want to blow up your phone because he had a cold image to uphold but every time his phone dinged he checked if it was you. By the third day he had almost given up hope until the simple text you sent nearly made him burst into a million fireworks.

you: meet me outside the library tomorrow

He got there earlier than intended but he acted like he didn’t. He had done at least two laps around the tall building just waiting for you to arrive and when you did, you said nothing to him. You only walked into the building and headed straight to the elevators like he wasn’t even there.

“It’s raining.”

Jesus Christ.

So stupid, Soobin thought as he turned away from you. This is what happens when he tries to make small talk with someone who sort of hates him. He still doesn’t get why you don’t like him much but he assumes it has something to do with your grades. You’re both art majors and have to take similar prerequisites so you see each other a lot. You’re both also at the top of the department and practically battling for the same summer internship so he thought taking a step back might’ve made you happier but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

You looked at him for a second and when he wondered if you would say something you just looked back down at your phone like he wasn’t even there. This elevator ride felt like it would never end. He knows it’s only been a few seconds but it feels so suffocating.

“Did you change up your hair? It looks good,” he said cautiously and you finally looked at him again. He didn’t expect a thank you or anything but maybe a smile.

All he got was; “Why are you talking to me?”

“It was like this last time we talked,” you finally said and looked forward again.

The elevator dinged and he released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in until he was off. The two of you walked down the hall with you a couple paces ahead of him in complete silence.

Suddenly you turned around to face him as he stumbled back a step in surprise when you said, “I like the black hair, it’s different from the blonde.”

He absentmindedly touched his hair as a smile grew on his face, “Thank you.”

Your brows furrowed, surprised that he was even smiling at you. Usually he acts just as cold to you as you do to him and that’s why you barely acknowledge him nowadays. You knew he wasn’t a bad guy but he always had a smug face when he came out on top in class and it drove you insane. He would even laugh sometimes when you would stumble over your words during a presentation and make fun of you, not even caring if you heard or not.

Of course you didn’t know he was giggling because he found you so cute even when you made mistakes.

Soobin happily followed you to an empty table, just happy to be there and ignored the hand you had outstretched to motion for him to sit across from you just so he could sit next to you instead.

You just looked at him unamused as his smile dropped, “What? How am I supposed to see what we’re doing if I’m sitting all the way over there?”

You released a sigh, “Alright, did you bring your last exam?”

Soobin nodded his head, reaching into his huge backpack to retrieve his laptop and work. He quickly opened his laptop and got onto the school website app to find his most recent Psychology exam. He knew you were in that class too even if you took it at different times [he only signed up because of you and got the time wrong].

You looked at his laptop where a fat 65/100 score was typed in red that made you gasp, “Soobin?! How?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered, “I’ve been stressed, can’t pay attention well.”

Soobin was looking at you with soft eyes, unable to help himself from looking over what you wore today. He hasn’t seen you all day aJust as you opened your mouth to scold him, a high pitched feminine voice cut you off, “Binnie?”

You both turned in your seats, a cute brunette with hair just above her shoulders dressed in a cute coquette style smiled at him sweetly, “I thought I recognized you.”

You knew her well too, you used to call her Soobin’s little sidekick in a class you shared last semester. She always followed him around complimenting him over every little thing he did and laughing at all his jokes, even the ones that weren’t funny.

“Hi Jia,” Soobin said as he looked back down at his laptop. Jia smiled before sliding her gaze over to you, “Hi Y/n.”

“Hey.”

She cleared her throat, “So, Soobin, good thing I found you, I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’re free any time soon.”

“Um,” Soobin look at you, “For what?”

“Oh!” Jia blushed, “Um, I’ve been having software problems and I know you’re a game wizard so I figured you might know how to fix it.”

She already had her laptop out and you watched as she pulled up a chair from a different table to sit on his other side and he looked just as taken back to be sandwiched between the two of you now. Soobin didn’t say anything as he took her laptop once she showed him what’s wrong and he hurried to fix it. His lips were parted in concentration yet his dimples still showed and you couldn’t help but look at him over. You never once thought Soobin was ugly, he had to be one of the most attractive guys you’ve ever seen but you would never even think about it. If anything it’s a bit too late to imagine you and Soobin being anything more than rivals or even tutor and student. It would just be too much.

She smiled leaning into him, "Thanks, it's like you're the only one who knows how to fix it."

"Then you should probably learn how to do it yourself for when he’s not around," you responded out of the blue, flashing Jia a tight smile, "I could teach you but it's just a troubleshooting problem and it doesn’t take a brainiac to figure that out."

"I'd rather have Soobin teach me," Jia smiled looking back at Soobin who looked down at his own laptop to hide the fact that he was furiously blushing at how snappy you sounded. You smiled watching him ignore her, the jealous immature side happy he's not giving her much attention but you couldn’t understand why.

“You hear that Soobin?" You asked, nudging him with your knee, he released a breath stopping what he was doing and waiting for you to talk. Just like that, he didn't ignore you at this moment. "Jia wants you to teach her how to fix her own laptop, she’s taking advantage of your kindness, y’know."

Jia went to argue but the damage had been done. Soobin wouldn’t disagree with you, maybe you were right. He did always get bothered by all the girls who asked him to help them with something and he always felt bad saying no. In the end, half of the girls would use it to flirt with him and compliment him every chance they had and it made him uncomfortable.

Even if what you had said was a bit of a lie and probably more beneficial to you than him, Soobin was on your side — even if you sounded a bit mean, "Sorry I'm too busy but if you take it to the tech lab I'm sure they'll help you."

"He's too busy," you repeated smugly looking up at her again. You’re telling "Oh, I understand," Jia sighed, "Soobin are you doing anything? Maybe we can meet up and do some work."

You couldn’t help but scoff, Soobin immediately looked at you as you moved just a fraction away from. You looked annoyed and he knew it was once again because of him. He asked you to tutor him and yet here you are having to watch another girl try and take him away.

"Um, I don’t know, I’m kinda doing something with Y/n right now and I don’t know how long it’ll be," Soobin said mindlessly, eyes glancing in your direction like you would reward him for being blunt, he turned to you, "Can we continue?"

You stared at him in surprise. This is not how you expected this moment to go. You were almost certain that was thrilled at the idea of ending this and leaving with someone he appears to be close to. Sure, you watched him tell her he was busy but she kept pushing and you assumed he would just go with it instead. You were also being a little rude and she was his friend right, why else would they have looked so close last semester? You assumed he would’ve been annoyed by the way you responded to her and would want to end this study session before it could even start.

“I don’t know,” you said, sounding a bit more harsh than you expected, “Do you want to?”

Soobin looked genuinely caught off guard that you would even think that. Why would he not want to? He’s been thinking about this for weeks, he’s worked for this — or well stopped putting in the work so you could tutor him. Do you think he’s going to want to leave to hang out with Jia?

“Yes,” Soobin said looking all doe eyed and you’ve never seen him make that face to you. You looked to Jia, “So, can we finish studying or is there anything else you want to tell Soobin?”

She stared down at you with a glare but you didn’t budge, looking at her unimpressed and not intimidated at all. All you wanted to do was finish this study session, get paid, and go home. Why were they making this so complicated? Was it even worth all this trouble when you haven’t even gotten to reviewing his answers yet.

The more you thought about it the more you realized it was actually really annoying. Would you have to go through this every time you study in the library? Would some girl with a fat crush on Soomin come and try and take him away? Did you really want to put up with that?

Soobin practically jumped in his seat when you stood up, “It’s getting late and we haven’t even started, let’s just try this again some other time, I guess.”

“Y/n!” Soobin’s voice was a little too loud for the people in the library and a few felt perfectly fine telling him to shut up as he ran to the stairs completely forgetting Jin was standing there waiting on him.

The elevator came to a stop on the first floor and you swung your backpack onto your shoulders, head down as you caught up on your notifications. You barely made it past the elevator doors when you bumped into a very hard service. A strong arm grabbed you from the waist as you nearly stumbled back, your phone unfortunately did not have the luck of having someone grab it before it fell. Your hands clung to the shirt of the person and you finally got a good look at him, annoyed huff leaving your lips, “Soobin!?”

“What?” Play it cool, Soobin “I was coming to see where you went after ditching me up there.”

“I literally said we could do it some other day,” you released a sigh as you picked your phone up and shook his hands off your waist. Soobin loomed over your shoulder, “Damn, your screens cracked, when did that happen?”

He wasn’t thinking straight when he said that, all common sense completely left his body as he looked at your phone with pity, only snapping out of his thoughts when he felt you turn your head to look at him. It was then that he realized just how close the two of you were with him leaning down to look over your shoulder. He couldn’t help but attempt a smile noticing just how close your lips are to his and you smelled so goo—

“About two seconds ago, Soobin,” your voice was laced with sarcasm that had goosebumps raising on his skin at how annoyed you sounded, “When you bumped into me, remember?”

He blinked once in realization, feeling his cheeks heat up, “I did that?”

A tired sigh left your lips as you decided to ignore him. You weren’t sure if he was playing dumb to get on your nerves or if he actually was clueless but now you were more annoyed than before. You don’t have the money nor the time to get your screen fixed and you definitely can’t afford a new one.

“I’m going home,” you mumbled as you turned away from him, “Go find another tutor, probably Jia will help—“

“I don’t want to,” Soobin’s deep voice cut you off as he followed you out the door into the outside, “I want you to tutor me, Y/n. I’m sorry about your phone, I’ll fix it but don’t take back your word, you already agreed.”

You groaned, “Ugh, Soobin there’s so many girls who’ll tutor you and for free, you don’t need me and besides, we can’t study in the library if someone is going to interrupt.”

“Y/n it’s been one day,” Soobin said harshly, “Did Jia bother you that much?”

Soobin couldn’t help but feel hopeful and he wasn’t sure why. He knows you don’t like him so there’s no way you were jealous but to see you act just a little possessive over him made him blush. He liked it. He liked it a lot and he was determined to make you admit it any way you can. He watched you roll your eyes, expression laced with attitude, “I don’t care about Jia, Soobin, but if I’m trying to help your studies I’m not interested in others tagging along.”

He couldn’t help but bite his lip as he tilted his head to the side curiously, “So you want me to yourself?”

Once again you rolled your eyes, turning your back to him, “I’m leaving.”

“No,” Soobin grabbed at your wrist softly, “I’m kidding, come on, let’s figure something out, yeah?”

“Like?” You asked, still not sure why you’re willing to put yourself through this when you don’t even like him that much. You watched as his shoulder rose and dropped in a shrug, biting his lip in thought and you released a small sigh to let him know you were running out of patience. He looked down, “I don’t know, maybe we could go somewhere that it’s just us two.”

You could barely understand him from the way he mumbled but once you processed what he said, you just nodded, “Alright, I’ll go to your place tomorrow.”

“Really?” He asked, clearly thrilled at the idea but trying to play it off. You just nodded and he finally let you leave.

What were you getting yourself involved with him?

Soobin couldn’t sleep all night. He went to his classes looking like a complete zombie and for once he had an actual reason for not paying much attention. As much as he wanted to see you all day you made him wait till late because you had work after your last class. It only made him more anxious and he cleaned around his apartment twice, just to be sure you didn’t think he was messy even if he kind of was. The entire time this all happened, his friend watched him from the comfort of Soobin’s bed.

“So what makes you think Y/n would even want to hang out in your bedroom?” Taehyun asked as he watched his friend go crazy. Soobin was acting like he was preparing a date, he saw him put on Chanel perfume about three times, each time saying he couldn’t remember if he put any on. He even styled his hair on.y to mess it up and restyle it differently.

Soobin shrugged, “I don’t know, but my desk is here, Y/n might.”

Taehyun just nodded, not seeming fully convinced but went along with it anyway, “Wishful thinking, bin, wishful thinking, and just speak your truth, what’s the real reason why you want to be in your room instead out in the living room?”

He smirked watching the way Soobin’s face flushed red, “Privacy.”

He chuckled, “From who?”

Soobin didn’t answer him and it only made Taehyun smile in amusement, “I love you, but it’s never going to happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Soobin asked as he checked his phone, already smiling at the text you sent a few minutes ago that said you were already on your way.

soobin: ok just lmk

soobin: I’ll come down if u want

You didn’t respond but he didn’t expect you to, he only just sent the message but he still found himself waiting for those three dots to pop up on the message thread.

“I’m talking about how badly you want to hook up with Y/n,” Taehyun said, making Soobin look up at him completely shocked.

“I hate Y/n,” obviously he didn’t but he didn’t like the idea of his friends knowing he liked you without knowing how you felt and he had a reason for this. If they knew he liked you despite how mean you were to him, they would think he’s a masochist… it’s better they think he hates you too but apparently he wasn’t fooling anyone considering Kai caught on pretty quickly too.

Taehyun let out a laugh, one of those really loud and obnoxious laughs that told Soobin he was actually very amused by whatever was happening. He went as far as wiping away his cheek like a tear had fallen and said, “Good one, almost believed you there.

“I’m serious,” Soobin said as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, fixing a wrinkle in his shirt, “Y/n is mean to me, why would I like her?”

“I wanna know why too,” Taehyun said as he rolled onto his stomach only making himself more comfortable on the bed, “I mean, she’s hot, but she’s mean—wait a second, you like that she’s mean, huh?”

Taehyun was just teasing him at this point and when Soobin refused to respond, his eyes only widened, “Oh my god! You like that Y/n’s mean to you, are you a perv, Hyung?”

He was only teasing, he swears it. He doesn’t care what his friend is into, what he likes is totally up to him but it’s just fun to poke fun at him when he gets so flustered about it. He doesn’t blame Soobin for liking you, like he said, he can agree that you’re attractive, but you’ve blown Soobin off for three years. Did he really like you enough to keep up his charades and if so did he really go as far as failing his classes just to get you to talk to him? God, what will you do to Soobin once you find out?

“I’m not a perv!” Soobin yelled, a little louder than expected. He’s really not. He’s not a perv… he’s just… he just likes you. Yes, he likes that you’re a little mean to him, yes he likes when you scold him, yes he likes pushing your buttons and yes he especially liked it when you do it and he can see down your shirt or look at the squishiness of your thighs but… but he’s not a perv!

Okay, maybe he’s imagined what it’s like to feel under your shirt and has struggled to pay attention to anything but the sight of you in a short skirt but that doesn’t make him a perv, he’s just an easily distracted guy…

Before Taehyun could rebut, a loud knock was heard on the front door that had both of their eyes widening in surprise. Soobin was practically sprinting toward the door as his friend gathered his things to leave. He meant to leave before you were here but clearly time passed by way too fast and now he’s getting ready to leave just as Soobin was opening the door to you.

You looked at Taehyun curiously as he ran past you and out the door, yelling, “Hi Y/n! Bye Y/n!”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you let yourself into Soobin’s apartment, “What’s up with him? Why’d he leave in a hurry?”

“Uh,” Soobin gave you a blank expression that sort of reminded you of a confused bunny and you watched him scratch the back of his head in thought, “You said no distractions and… and he would be a distraction, right?”

“I guess,” you took the chance to look around his apartment, it was huge, way bigger than your apartment and it was so painfully obvious that he came from money. He had a grand piano in the corner for fuck’s sake. There was even a chandelier hanging above the dining table and a fireplace by the tv. Too distracted to notice Soobin move behind you, you nearly hit him in self defense when he began to pull on your backpack to take it off your shoulders. Without bothering with a thank you, you headed toward his marble dining table waiting for him to follow but he just stood in place.

“We’re studying in my room,” Soobin said in voice that radiated confidence, completely opposite of the desperate tone he used to prove to Taehyun that he was not a perv. He had an act to play, he assumed you liked mean guys. He’s heard of some of the guys you used to talk to and they all had one thing in common… they were intimidating and Soobin didn’t feel like that at all so he had to play the part.

You didn’t even question it as you followed him into his room, eyes immediately zoning in on the white cage set on its own stand, two different levels to it and a small hedgehog inside. Soobin cleared his throat awkwardly, “That’s Odi, he’s a hood boy.”

Fuck, Soobin thought, why would he say that about a damn hedgehog?

“Cute,”you said coolly as you took the main desk chair, making him have to pull up a smaller chair next to you. You thought Odi was cute after he called him a good boy? Or did him calling Odi a good boy not affect your thoughts on the hedgehog? Oh god, his mind was completely scrambled.

Soobin didn’t have to be asked this time to show you his most recent exam. He knew it was what you were going to ask to see first and he wanted to show you that he could be a very good listener. He looked to you to see how you would react to his quick obedience but you barely even blinked as you pulled it toward you. You pursed your lips in thought and he watched your mouth closely. Your lips looked so soft, so plump and smooth with light lip balm on them.

He wondered how soft they would be in a kiss. Were you a good kisser? Would you think he’s a good kisser? How far would the two of you go or would it just be kissing? He would someday like to get to a point where he can openly adore you because there’s just so much from your pretty hair to your pretty legs and everything in between.

He had a dirty secret that’s not so much of a secret considering his thoughts from earlier but… he can’t help but always notice your breasts—after your cute annoyed face of course—he wasn’t a complete bimbo. He respects you, he can’t just immediately look at your boobs despite the fact that today you were a low cut fitted shirt. He tried paying more attention to your face as it looked like you were about to talk but his eyes couldn’t help but slowly trail down your neck to your collarbone until he saw just the smallest hint of cleavag—

“Are you listening?” He snapped his gaze back to yours looking completely red handed as he nodded his head, clearly not listening.

You released a sigh as you looked at him in thought. Soobin was smart, you knew how smart he was so why did he seem so clueless right now?it’s like he had no thoughts in that cute head of his an—did you just consider him cute?

You blinked in surprise at your own thoughts and just as you were going to ask him to repeat what you said, you saw in real time the way his gaze seem to drop once more and you finally understood what was going on.

Soobin was trying so hard not to stare and failing yet the attempt was cute, especially when he seemed to let his lower jaw go slack and lips part slightly at the sight. Normally you would immediately be disgusted but it’s Soobin… he’s annoying and a know-it-all but just look at that brain empty expression of his, not caring at all now if he gets caught.

Without thinking you dropped a hand to his thigh, squeezing slightly and making his gaze return to yours, “What did I say?”

“What?” Soobin asked, shaking his head like he was snapping out of a trance, the cold and deep voice was back. You rolled your eyes, “You said you were listening so I’m asking you to repeat what I said.”

You’ll admit this was all a bit out of character but you just had to see if you were right… was Soobin really staring at your cleavage openly, and if so, how did you feel about it?

“Um…” Soobin looked down at your hand, “Um…”

“Um?” You repeated sarcastically, “Can you focus? If not, I’m going home.”

“Yah!” Soobin whined with a low groan, “Stop saying that, you already agreed to tutor me, stop trying to back ou—“

“Then pay attention!” You said back and he practically stomped his foot in a tantrum, just wanting to argue now.

“I’m trying but you—you’re,” he groaned in frustration as the words died in his throat and with a defeated sigh, he mumbled, “I’m sorry… I wasn’t listening.”

You smiled proudly, not at all in a rush to figure out what had him so distracted, and instead said, “Good boy, don’t you feel better being honest?”

The words just slipped and you didn’t think much of them as you went back to the laptop, already writing down answers to the questions he got wrong, meanwhile Soobin is trying to calm the painful red blush in his cheeks.

There was a small sphere in the palm of your hand, it was a shade of dark blue with a white swirl on it and it matched the same one Yeonjun held in his hand. You’ve shared one class with him in the last two years and it’s in the one you’re currently in. The two of you have never spoken a single word to each other and the semester started six weeks ago. He looked just as surprised to realize his partner was chosen randomly by a stupid marble.

He released a small nervous chuckle, clearly just caught off guard by this. He’s almost a 100% certain you’re like the only person in class that he hasn’t spoken to. Now, that didn’t mean he didn’t notice you, you were pretty and never talking to you really did make you seem a bit mysterious to him. He cleared his throat, “Alright, when should we get started?”

You checked the time on your phone, you were supposed to be meeting Soobin soon to study at his place but you’ve just been completely blindsided by this sudden partner project in class. You only had about a week to turn in the research paper and you had to work a couple nights this week. You agreed to study with Soobin on days you didn’t work but now with this on the table, you seriously don't know what to do. Well, obviously you have to do the assignment but you don’t know how to tell Soobin. If you just sent him a text about it you’re pretty positive he will just blow up your phone nonstop because for some reason he desperately needs you to continue these study sessions.

“When are you free?” You asked him trying to figure out what time would work best for you to work on this. You were only getting tomorrow to do research in class and after that the two of you are basically on your own as the unit confíes on in class.

Class has just ended so the two of you walked together outside of the room trying to figure out when would work best. It was hard to ignore the looks you received from some of your other classmates and you knew why. Yeonjun was attractive, really attractive and he was popular too.

Yeonjun brought his phone out too, checking his schedule, leaning a little closer to talk to you, “Um, I could do… well I work tomorrow after class… are you free later to get started?”

Soobin had a smile on his face that he knew soon he would need to drop it, he couldn’t let you know how excited he was to see you right now. He was in a good mood, anytime someone said hi to him he was quick to say it back but if a girl tried stopping him to talk he would excuse himself saying he had to go somewhere.

His class ended a little earlier today so instead of waiting in the parking lot for you, he went to your last class.

Just as he turned the corner, his smile seemed to fall without his control anyway. Standing just a few feet away from him he found you and you looked so pretty today in a pair of jeans that hugged your curves just the way he liked it and… and you were standing with Choi Yeonjun.

He watched you smile at whatever Yeonjun said and he debated if he should just wait. He could wait, of course he can and honestly it’s what he should do. You’re just talking to another guy and it’s not like you’re flirting, right? It shouldn’t even matter to him, you’re not dating—you don’t even like him! So why does he feel bothered?

“Hey,” Soobin’s deep voice surprised you as he came up behind you, so close that you felt him press against your backpack, just looming over you with a hardened gaze. You looked back at him, “Hey.”

“Are you ready?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady and he couldn’t help but shift his gaze toward Yeonjun, who he definitely wasn’t happy to see was just standing there.

You looked at him apologetically, “I don’t know if I can make it tonight. We just got assigned this project and we don’t have time to do it in class so…”

Your words slowly died down as you watched his facial expression change. His lips turned downward and eyes seemed to sadden, “What?”

You looked at Yeonjun, “I’ll see you in the library.”

He took the hint and left you alone with Soobin who loomed over you with his height looking like a kicked puppy. You’re not sure why this expression really bothered you and you’re feeling really guilty now even if it wasn’t completely your fault. You found yourself saying, “I’m sorry.”

“But we agreed to meet up today,” Soobin said.

“I’m sorry but we want to get at least the outline finish—“

“Then what about after?” He rushed to ask. You looked at him apologetically, “It depends on what time we get done.”

You’re not even sure why the look on his face was making you feel bad but it was. The two of you didn’t even start to get along till just a couple weeks ago and sometimes he’s just so different from the cold side you’re used to. Sometimes he gives you snippets of how desperate he might be to see you but you can’t help but always brush it off. You just can’t tell what’s the real side of him and you’re starting to be affected by his cuter clingier side even if you couldn’t understand it.

“I’ll be waiting,” Soobin said, rushing away because he didn’t know what else to do. He was leaving before you could say that you can’t keep any promises. You rolled your eyes at how pushy he was but part of you smiled, shaking your head in disbelief and clearly amused.

Soobin didn’t lie either. He waited at home playing video games and checking his phone every couple minutes. He would occasionally send you a text, just a little reminder that you can’t forget him.

soobin: what time do u think u’ll be done ☺️

you: I don’t know yet soobin

soobin: :(

*five minutes later*

soobin: almost done?

you: not yet

soobin: 🥺 well hurry

you: …

soobin: 😞

*twenty minutes later*

soobin: 😞

you: what’s wrong

soobin: nothing :)

soobin: did you forget?

you: ?

soobin: study time?

you: no, I didn’t forget

Listen, the texts were annoying. They were so annoying because you and Yeonjun were trying to finish up the rough draft for your outline but Soobin just kept sending you text after text. It was annoying but…

It was pretty fucking cute. Ugh, he was just being clingy and though you found it annoying it was also so cute and it had you hurrying up your time with Yeonjun so you could text Soobin.

you: just finished

soobin: ok 🥰hurry

That’s how you found yourself sitting across from Soobin in his overly large living room trying to talk to him but his eyes were just straying away from your eyes. It wasn’t his fault though, like he said earlier, you just looked so pretty. Your shirt was fitted today and like usual he can’t seem to get over your chest. All of you really, your pretty face, pretty voice, pretty laugh and smile… your boobs and your butt and your cold attitude, it all just turned him into mush.

“Hey,” your voice scared him out of his gaze and he looked up at you blankly and clearly caught off guard, “Can you look at me when I’m talking to you?”

“Okay,” he nodded his head obediently, “Sorry.”

“You don’t even have your backpack,” you said as he looked down at his lap, “You were blowing up my phone the entire time I was with Yeonjun and you’re not even ready to study.”

“I know,” he gulped, eyes unable to help themselves from slowly looking down to your cleavage again. “I’m sorry.”

You released an annoyed groan, grabbing his shirt suddenly and shaking him, “Are you?”

“Yes,” Soobin nodded, “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again Y/n, I’ll be good, I promise.”

“So next time I’m doing schoolwork with Yeonjun what are you going to do?” You asked.

He released a sudden huff that made it clear he was less than happy to say this but said it anyway, “I’ll wait patiently for you to finish.”

Nodding your head you turned toward the small coffee table where your laptop was, “Kay, go get your bag so we can start reviewing this.”

Soobin jumped to his feet, running away with a smile, “So you’re not mad at me?”

“No,” you said feeling him practically squeal next to you, making you only the more confused but couldn’t help yourself from saying, “It was annoying in a cute way.”

Soobin bit back the urge to smile and did as told. When he came out he had a white bag in hand that he handed you watching your eyebrows scrunch together cutely as you asked, “What’s this?”

“New phone,” Soobin said casually and your eyes widened in disbelief.

“Soobin, why would you get me—“

“Because I broke yours,” Soobin said helping you open the box, “I already called your service and asked if you would be able to add your line to it and they said yes. I can drive you if you want me to.”

You shook your head no, “This is crazy, you didn’t have to do that! I could still use my phone, it was just the screen.”

“But,” Soobin looked down, “But it’s a gift from me to you, can’t you just take it?”

“Soobin…”

“Soobin is so cute,” your friend Yuna said one night as you got to Beomgyu’s house for a party.

You’ve been filling your friends in on your past two weeks with Soobin and it was all a surprise to them. You seemed to despise Soobin for some time and suddenly you’re all about hanging out with him. Even Soobin seemed to always act cold around you so for you to tell them that he’s been surprisingly clingy is in fact very cute.

“He probably likes you,” Beomgyu said with a shrug of his shoulders that had you spitting out your drink in shock. It’s not like you hadn’t wondered the same thing but for a while you wondered if you had just been reading too much into it and then you felt stupid for even thinking about it. Beomgyu bringing it up so suddenly shocked you, maybe it wasn’t all in your head.

“You think?” You asked genuinely and Beomgyu laughed out loud.

“Are you kidding?” Beomgyu asked, “He’s been staring at you since he got here and I bet you he’s been trying to think up an excuse to talk to you.”

“I’ve known him for like three years now, there’s just no way, I’m not even nice to him,” you said as you looked around for Soobin only to find him already looking at you as he talked a

To some of his own friends. He gave you a big and energetic wave that had you lifting your hand to wave back too. You smiled a little when he did and Yuna sighed, “You like him too, huh? I mean he’s cute—“

“No! No, I don’t,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, “I mean… even if I did, would it even matter? He thinks I’m mean, right? It wouldn’t be fair to him.”

They both gave you a blank stare and just as you were going to respond, an arm came around your shoulders as a low voice said, “What are we talking about?”

You said a quick hello to him as your friends started talking, “Soobin and Y/n got a thing for each other and neither one of them will admit it.”

“That’s not tru—“

“Oh, yeah, it is,” Yeonjun said with a laugh, “You should’ve seen the look he gave me when we were talking the other day and yesterday he ignored me when I tried saying hi. I even told him he can have you back because our project was over and he just ignored me!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “That doesn’t mean he likes me, we’ve just been studying…”

Soobin was not a mean person, he swears it. He’s really nice and gentle and he would never dislike anyone without a reason. He’s too shy for confrontation yet right now he would really love to go up to you and just pull Yeonjun’s arm away from your shoulders. You’re done with your project so why is he s next to you and why is he touching you? Soobin hasn’t even had the chance to hold you so why does he get to? He watched closely as you talked to your friends and Beomgyu trying to make sure Yeonjun wouldn’t try anything. He let Yeonjun take your attention away from him pretty much all last week so why is he still around you? It wasn’t fair, Soobin should be the one next to you. He was such a good listener this week, after you got him in trouble and he promised to be good, he did just that. He only sent you two texts throughout your time with Yeonjun and he didn’t even bother you in class!

“Who are you staring at and are they hot?”

Soobin jumped in surprise, drink spilling down the front of his shirt as he whipped around to find Kai standing there laughing.

“What?” Soobin asked as he looked down at his wet shirt. Kai just sighed, “Nevermind, go clean your shirt.”

If Soobin was mean, he would’ve smacked the kid upside the head but he was nice and nice people only attack with pillows and there’s no pillows close enough to use. He’ll get Kai back soon, just not now, now he has to clean his shirt. He looked back to you and Yeonjun as if making sure there wasn’t any funny business and practically ran to go clean himself off.

He skipped past the line to the bathroom and walked down to the end of the hall where he knew Beomgyu’s room was. His friend was throwing the party anyway and though the room was off limits, he would understand. Soobin rummaged through his closet and went straight to his bathroom so he could at least wipe off some of the intense smell of alcohol, hurrying himself along so he can watch Yeonjun.

The music from the party was loud enough for him to hear a muffled version of it even hidden away in Beongyu’s bathroom and that made him feel nervous. While he’s in here cleaning off the stench of liquor, you were probably out there surrounded by guys hitting on yo—“Ow!”

Soobin’s head whipped back with a loud thud and his hands immediately flew to his nose as pain shot right through it. The person who pushed the door open stood there in shock, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Bin?”

A pool of red began to fill his cupped hands and he moved over the bathroom sink with a groan. You visibly cringed as he moved around you and reached for the toilet paper as you stood there shocked, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I—oh my god.”

He finally looked over at you, heart racing as he pulled the paper towel away, blood beginning to dribble again, “Y/n?”

“Soobin, I’m sorry, I saw you come over here and I wanted to sneak up on you but,” your face cringed, “Soobin please, you’re still bleeding.”

“Oh right,” Soobin held the paper towel to his nose again.

“It’s a lot of blood,” you said apologetically, “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

“It’s fine, this happens all the time,” he waved you off with a bloody hand and you bit down on your bottom lip looking hurt, “No it doesn’t, I’m so sorry.”

You sniffled a bit as you looked at your reflection in the mirror while Soobin carefully wiped off whatever mess was left until it was all clean. You struggled to look at him and his red nose even if he was completely clean but he didn’t even notice. He was more excited that you came to see him instead of staying out there with other guys, “So you wanted to sneak up on me?”

“Well you had been staring at me all night and I was just gonna see if you would say hello. I should’ve just waited outside, this is awkward right?” You were rambling a bit but he just smiled lovingly.

He shook his head no as the two of you left the bathroom, “No, not awkward, right? I wanted to say hi but you were busy.”

“Busy?” Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”

You weren’t busy, you were just talking to your friends. Nothing you talked about was serious or anything you just talked about Soobin, he could’ve said hi at any time. Soobin’s smile dropped, going serious for a moment, “Yes you were, with Yeonjun, I saw.”

You blinked in thought, “We were just talking, you could’ve come over any time.”

He released a deep sigh, looking around the dark bedroom happy that it was just two despite the dozens of people out there getting drunk with loud music. Letting his gaze fall back on you, he made a small pout, “Well, how was I supposed to know that? Last time you got me in trouble for not leaving you alone when you’re with Yeonjun an—“

“Soobin, that was just when we were studying, I didn’t realize you were thinking I meant all the time,” you said apologetically. Soobin stepped closer to you, “I was just trying to be good and listen. If I knew then I would have pulled you away the second I saw Yeonjun even come close to you!”

You looked genuinely taken back by his tone, if you didn’t know any better you would say that he almost sounded jealous. Even the look in his eye made it seem like he wasn’t happy and you weren’t used to this at all. The other day when you talked to Yeonjun for the first time, Soobin stormed up to you and took you by surprise when he appeared behind you, so close that you felt his breath on your shoulder.

Now you’re starting to see that it was possibly all because of jealousy.

“Are you jealous of Yeonjun?” You asked him and he audibly scoffed.

He was not jealous of Yeonjun. He didn’t think Yeonjun was better than him, if anything he thought they were pretty much on the same level of attractiveness. Yeonjun was more extroverted than he was but Soobin wasn’t worried about that. He didn’t feel so insecure over things like that so no, he’s not jealous.

He’s possessive. Soobin knows you aren’t dating and he knows that you probably still don’t like him yet but… but you’re his. He’s already called dibs, he’s already put in so much work to make that happen. Obviously he’s not going to be happy if your attention strays away from him, he wants you looking at him and thinking about him all the time, the way he does about you.

“No,” Soobin finally said, “But… but you’re… yknow, you’re mi—“

“Why are you in my shirt?” Beomgyu asked as his bedroom door opened and he stood in the entrance. He looked between you in surprise, “Wait, am I interrupting something?”

You stood there in shock, you weren’t sure what he was about to say but part of you also felt like you had an idea. It really did seem like you had an idea. After all your friends have basically instilled it in your head that he might like you it wasn’t hard to guess what he was going to say but you just can’t bring yourself to fully believe it yet. He was so nice, you can see it now so you just felt bad to think that he might like you after you were mean to him at times. To make things worse, he seemed to be totally okay with you always snapping on him or just ignoring him and you just felt bad because you were genuinely starting to fall for him and you can admit that now.

Soobin shook his head no. He had been watching you the entire time and he can just tell you’re overwhelmed by something right now. He just smiled cutely, “I had to borrow your shirt because mine got wet, sorry?”

You looked up at him, and he smiled wider, eyes crinkling, “I think I’m gonna head home now but I’ll text you.”

Soobin said goodbye to you and Beomgyu and before you could make your leave, Beomgyu pulled you back in, “What happened? What were you guys doing? Were you making out? Ew, oh my god please don’t tell me if you did anything on my bed.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, clearly thrown off, “No, we were just talking, if you hadn’t interrupted then I would have known what he was going to say.”

He gasped, “I didn’t interrupt, you’re in my room, remember? And why didn’t you just go with him, you like him too.”

You bit your lip, “How do I tell him? I just missed my chance.”

“I don’t know, you’ll probably just have to show him.”

When Monday came you went over to Soobin’s place for your usual study lessons. After the party the two of you have been texting but it wasn't about anything deep. It’s like you were tip toeing around a possible confession that neither of you wanted to do through text. After your last class he invited you over with the intention to just be straight forward and hope that you would want him but he’s still a little scared.

If you tell him you hate him he thinks he might cry so he’s been trying to seem cool and collected this entire time.

He fidgeted in his desk chair as he watched you take your laptop out. With a clear of his throat he stood up, “Um, do you want water? I can get us some.”

“Sure, where is your textbook? I forgot mine.”

He pointed to his backpack and let you get it as he left for the kitchen. Without a single thought, you reached for his huge backpack in search of a familiar textbook. Once you found the book you pulled it out of his overly stuffed bag accidentally bringing a few papers with it too and as you looked them over, your eyes widened.

CHOI SOOBIN

SCORE: 65

You didn’t think about it for a second, he’s been showing his assignment scores and it has been improving little by little bit as you took a closer look you could clearly see a layer of whiteout and the score 98, crossed off. It made your brows furrow in confusion and you looked at the pages finding answers erased and replaced with wrong ones crossed out in red.

It’s like he was purposely grading himself bad and as you put the papers back away you realized why. He asked you to tutor him and you never understood that. He was always smarter than you so you couldn’t wrap your head around why he asked you of all people to help him. Even when it came down to the actual study sessions, Soobin always got things right away and very rarely struggled to find an answer but then he would come to you and quickly show you his bad score and ask for your help again.

Sometimes, studying was the last thing on his agenda when he was with you and you always found him distracted and not fully listening so now you know he’s been lying to you. He lied to get you to study with him yet all you’ve seen was him stare at your boobs, get clingy, and pretend to get bad grades.

Was all this just a little scheme to get you to hang out with him? If that’s the case then did he really like you and expect you never to find out?

Sure, you’ve come to realize that you like him too but for him to go this far just for you to talk to him… well, you’re not all that happy about it. Did he expect you never to find out and now that you have what was your plan?

Soobin came in with a smile on his face, “I brought snacks.”

“Mhm,” you said, moving to sit on his bed and away from his backpack, “Let’s work on the bed today, I wanna get comfortable.”

He watched you make yourself on his bed and all he could focus on was the way your skirt fluttered around your legs exposing more of your thighs and when he looked up at you, your eyes were already on him, catching him red handed in the act of checking you out. This time around you smirked a bit now knowing that he’s been lying this whole time just to get you to hang out with him. It was cute and he was cute so you can’t be mad but at the same time, he was very bold in getting mad when you had to study with Yeonjun, made you feel guilty too. You gotta let him know you know about his lie but you’re working up a plan.

It’s not no surprise that he likes you, that has become painfully obvious and you like him too but you want to get him in trouble. He lied and he thought you would never find out. How long did he plan on keeping this up? He’s gotta get in trouble, right? Maybe a little teasing, just to see if this really was all just to study or for him to get a good look at you when you’re alone together. It’s not like you never noticed the way his eyes would trace down your body while you’re trying to do homework.

If you’re going to tell him you know about his lie, you’re going to make it fun.

“O—okay,” Soobin stuttered as he sat down with a foot of space between you, “I mean, yeah cool.”

You smiled at his awkwardness, now you can see that he’s not as cold as he wants to to think he is and it only makes him look cuter.

The two of you studied for a bit, you couldn’t come right out and tell him you knew the truth, where was the fun in that? You had to play along a bit and see how he would take it so that’s what you did.

“Soobin, you keep getting the answer wrong and I’m starting to get annoyed,” you said as you watched him hesitate over the right answer before choosing the wrong one, eyes sliding over to look at you every now and then. You were wearing a low cut top again and matched with your miniskirt it was getting hard for him to not get distracted and the two of you are alone in his bed… he just can’t focus.

“Sorry, Y/n,” his eyes lingered on your thighs a little longer than usual and you subconsciously unwrapped them a little, the small gap from where the skirt ended and what covered your underwear, slowly widened. You released a heavy sigh, “Why are you so distracted?”

At that his eyes seemed to fall toward your cleavage, catching himself in the act of staring and looked back down, “I don’t know.”

You had to bite back a smirk and without any hesitation, you moved closer to his side, “Do I need to punish you? Will that get you to pay attention?”

You were half joking but tempted to see what he would say and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he seemed to become mush at your words, “H-how?”

You released a deep sigh, “How? That’s the wrong answer, I shouldn’t have to punish you. You should say, ‘Okay, Y/n, I’ll pay attention.’ What are you? A perv?”

Soobin went quiet at that and for a second you thought you might’ve said the wrong thing. His face flushed red and he looked down at his lap sadly but before you could apologize for asking him that, he said, “Maybe.”

“Maybe? So you’re a perv?” Your brows raised in surprise, “You want me to punish you?”

He gave a subtle nod of his head making you grow quiet, well this just got interesting. With a huff, pretending to be annoyed, you shifted even closer taking his hand in yours and pulling it to write on his paper with yours over his, “Start writing.”

“What am I writing?”

“Write: I am a liar and a perv,” you said jokingly and he looked up at you cutely so you helped him write, “I lied to Y/n about needing help, and I can’t stop staring at her boobs.”

His hand froze up mid sentence, “Y/n, how’d you find out?”

You smiled, he didn’t even bother hiding it this time, “Because I found your exam scores, you’ve been lying to me Soobin, after telling me nonstop how good you are,” you said with a stern voice.

“Are you mad?” He asked shyly. You released a sigh, pretending to contemplate, “Maybe? Are you going to listen and pay attention from now on?”

He nodded his head, watching curiously as you moved to sit behind him, turning to stare at you but you snapped your fingers forcing him to look forward again. You scooted close until your legs were spread around his big frame with your breasts pressed against his back that had his breath hitching in surprise. They already felt squishy and your arms moved to hug his waist. Soobin sucked in a breath when your hands rested on his thighs and he immediately looked down, already feeling himself begin to fidget in excitement and nervousness.

“I want you to read the question, and tell me the answer, I know you know it,” you said, making him nod his head, throat too dry to give you a verbal response, “But since you’re a perv, I’m not going to make it easy for you, I’m gonna touch you and if you stop, I stop, got it?”

As if to further explain what you meant, your hand moved toward his groin area making him breath heavier, “Mhm.”

“Yes or no.”

“Yes,” he sighed, “I’ll listen.”

His head tilted to the side when you began to teasingly touch the zipper, slowly pulling it down and undoing the button of his jeans, “Start reading.”

Soobin swallowed dryly, unable to help himself from thinking about the fact that you’re brakes today, he could practically feel your nipples against his back and when your hand ran over the expanse of his growing length, he couldn’t find the right word. You were a little surprised to feel his immediate response to your touch, already feeling him harden before you even did anything and you smiled, “I said, start reading.”

“Mhm,” he hummed with a nod of his head, blinking to try and collect his thoughts, “First question, When a gene is expressed, it means that the protein—ohh.”

His breath hitched in surprise as your hand wrapped around his clothed cock feeling him just continue to get more erecting. You even gave it a little squeeze, “Did I say stop? No, so keep going.”

“Mhm, protein that it codes for is being made by transcription and translation…” his word slowly when your thumb circled around his tip, still not touching him under his briefs, teasing him, “Imagine two genes in a eukaryote. One is gene X. The other is gene A—Y/n, I can’t focus.”

“So did you lie to me again?” You asked, finally sneaking your hand under the waistband or his briefs, “You said you would listen and pay attention.”

Your fingers wrapped around his thick length giving him a soft and teasing stroke, feeling his dick twitch instantly as he nodded his head. The words were bef ninny to get blurry when your palm hugged the head of his cock, twisting your wrist and smearing it in his own precum, surprised that it was already leaking. Soobin licked his dry lips trying to focus again, “In the cells you are studying, gene X is being expressed, and gene A is not being expressed—oh my god.”

He stopped when he felt you lean further against him, soft lips pressing a gentle kiss against his neck, fingers brushing along the underside of his tip and he couldn’t help but buck his hips just a little. You pulled his cock out of his underwear, “You still haven’t even finished reading the first question.”

“I’m trying,” he released a moan, “But it’s so hard, Y/n.”

You glanced down at his dick over his shoulder, nearly joking and asking if he meant his dick or the action. The head was red with need and precum leaked from the tip with a thick vein nearly throbbing everytime your hand stroked him. You gave him a small squeeze hearing him moan freely, “Keep going.”

With an annoyed groan he nodded, still waiting a moment when you began to pump his length using his own excess precum to lubricate him for an easier slide. He attempted to pick up where he left off, “—and gene A is not being expressed—ngh. Which prediction below is most likely true in these cells?”

You kissed his neck again, “Now what’s the answer?”

He released a throaty moan that made you suck harshly against his neck with the vibrations of it, stroking faster, squeezing at his base and flicking your wrist around his tip, unable to ignore the way he raised his hips to fuck into your fist. You put your legs on to of his lap to keep him from bucking, holding him in place, “I’m waiting.”

His head lolled to the side, hissing in pain when you stopped, tightening your fist and looked at him expectantly. He had to use his stupid brain, “Ugh, i—it’s B. There are more activa—oh my god—activators for gene X than for gene A.”

Your tongue licked a long stripe toward his ear, sucking on his ear lobe as you said, “Good boy, Soobin, next one.”

“Mhm,” he whined, feeling his heart leap at the name, “Good boy,” he repeated to himself. Unable to help himself he turned his head to look at you, big sparkly eyes staring into yours and without much thought, you leaned forward, letting your tongue slide into his mouth, never once stopping the jerking of his cock until finally… you felt it.

It was a complete overflow of warmth, thick and creamy cum that wouldn’t stop leaking from his tip as he threw his head back with a loud moan, hips lifting up even with your legs holding him down. It felt never ending, your fist was completely covered in his cum and it drenched his jeans and boxers, you were genuinely surprised. You didn’t know someone could cum this much from a simple handjob.

Soobin released a dry groan as you finally freed yourself from the absolute puddle of cum, looking down at the white cream that coated your fingers, letting him go and watching him fall limp against you. His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath and he looked absolutely fucked out that you allowed him to lie down as you pushed the textbooks off the bed, wiping your hand against his own jeans, tugging them off, “Soobin.”

“Mm,” he hummed, looking completely zoned out but let you undress him. You clicked your tongue, climbing on top of his spent cock watching it twitch with life as you sat down, “Did I tell you to cum, bunny?”

His lip quivered as he looked at you, wordlessly shaking his head no. You released a deep sigh, “So you weren’t listening? Is that good or bad?”

“Bad,” he said sadly, “B—but I couldn’t Y/n, I—“

“You what?” You asked teaching for the end of your shirt, “You just thought to cum soon, like a dumb virgin?”

He stayed quiet, watching and feeling completely hypnotized by the sight of your bare breasts for his eyes only, finally. They were just how he imagined, big and soft with nipples he could see harden under his intense gaze. He was so lost in the sight that he absentmindedly said, “Yes.”

You seemed to stop as you flung your shirt to the floor, only wearing your small miniskirt, “Yes what?”

“Dumb virgin—“

“What?” You asked suddenly watching his face redden and you felt goosebumps raise on your skin, “Are you saying… are you a virgin?”

He nodded blankly, eyes on your boobs and nothing else, his cock coming back to life, “Mhm.”

“Oh my god,” you nearly jumped off his lap but his hands moved so fast to hold you by the waist and stop you. Your eyes widened, “Soobin, I—are you—oh my god, is this your first time getting a handjob?”

He blushed, nodding his head shyly, hands unable to stop themselves from sliding up your sides until they were just under the curves of your tits, thumbs nearly touching, “Yes and my first kiss, bu—“

“I am so sorry,” you tried to move but his hands were suddenly cupping your breasts, a blank expression on his face as he stared at them in awe, catching a feel while you tried apologizing, “Soobin, we shouldn’t. I—I—“

“I want to,” Soobin groaned, thumbs running over your nipples, “Please Y/n, I want you so fucking bad. I think about you all the time, I think about this all the time.”

You couldn’t help but grind against his naked cock at his words, “You do?”

His big hands felt good as they groped you, “All the time.”

It didn’t take you long to realize what he meant, a small smile on your face, “When you touch yourself?”

He nodded, releasing a quiet whisper as your nipples became hard pebbles that he couldn’t help but pinch, you smiled, grinding on his fat spent cock, “When you watch porn?”

Once again he nodded.

“When else?”

“Whenever you leave here,” he confessed, completely hypnotized by the bounce of your tits when you grind on his dick, “I tried using a flesh light but I’m too big, it always rips an—“

Now he was blabbing but it made you so fucking horny. He was big, too big to be a virgin and the territorial side of you was taking over. You’re the only one who’s made this big, stupid cock cum and holy shit, he came so much just from a handjob!

Feeling a bit more confident, he tilted his head cutely, looking up at you, “You’ve got big boobs, Y/n.”

“I kno—“

“Can I kiss em?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and a wicked smirk came to your face, shimmying up his torso, “No.”

His jaw dropped sadly, “Bu—“

“I got something better you can kiss,” you said seductively and he looked up at you with the cutest doe eyes you’ve ever seen. How could you ever dislike him? Just look at him.

“Really?” He looked down at the space between your legs, a thin thong right there between your folds and he could make out a wet spot. Licking his lips his big hands found your thighs, taking the honor to help you move up, “I’ve never, y’know…”

“I know, bunny,” you said even as he moved you closer and closer to your head with anticipation, “I’ll talk you through it bu—Soobin!”

A small squeal left your lips as he nearly knocked you forward, face between your legs, “Wait, I’m heavy, don’t do that unless you want me to suffocate you.”

Soobin wasn’t listening, his face was already against your pussy, nose brushing over the soaked fabric of your underwear, “Is okay, I want you to.”

He licks the wet spot on your underwear, lapping at the puddle with a moan, “Smells so good, Y/n, love it.”

You softly tugged his hair, leaning more and more of your weight onto his face and rocking, “Careful, okay? If it’s too much just tell me to stop.”

Soobin nodded his head against your clit, giving you a thumbs up before he completely yanked at your frail panties making you gasp as he tore into them. You yelled his name once more and he made a pout, “Sorry, they were in my way.”

“Slow down Binnie,” you reminded him, for a guy who’s never done it he seemed so experienced. Maybe it was all the porn he watched. You didn’t have much time to dwell on it as his tongue began lapping between your hole and your clit, sucking on it like it was a fucking lollipop, swirling his tongue around it hungrily. It’s not his fault. If you weren’t so pretty with such big boobies and a big brain and a cute laugh… he wouldn’t be so eager. He felt the moment your strength dissipated, hips no longer hovering and practically suffocated him, and he loved it.

He got sloppy, wanting to stick his tongue into your cunt as far as it could go, bunny eyes staring up as you rode his face now, losing yourself to the feeling, “Oh my god.”

Soobin began a repetitive motion with his tongue against your clit, before fucking you with it, he spread your ass with his big hands but his eyes were on the way your tit juggled with each breath you took and he imagined your clit was a nipple. His cock twitched at the thought, legs moving restless against the bed as he tried finding his own release but he jumped bucked his hips into the air.

You were so close, so so so close, moaning like a bitch in heat and accidentally tugging on his hair too hard, but he didn’t mind one bit. He liked it, it egged him on and he made out with your pussy so good that you couldn’t hold back, cum spilling into his open mouth with your thighs clenching around his head. A low moan fell from his lips and as you tried coming down from your heavy orgasm, his own cock released another stream of cum. You turned to look at it, a puddle of white coating his stomach, culling untouched.

Your jaw dropped as he let you go and before you could offer up a break, he was flipping you onto your back, head immediately going between your breasts.

“Fuck,” you breathed out as his mouth attached itself to your left tit like he wanted to swallow them whole. His mouth was covered in your cum and some drool. His cock lay perfectly between your folds and you just felt how hard he was, bringing your hands to his hair, coddling him, “You love my boobs, don’t you?”

At the feel of your hands in his hair, he groans, teeth gently nipping at the hard buds, “Mhm. Love ‘em.”

“I know, that’s why you always stare at them, naughty bunny,” you teased, feeling his shaky inhale. He kissed your tits and sucked on your nipples as his erecting cock jumped your folds, “Not naughty.”

“Really?” You asked, biting back a moan when he shook his head against your boob just soaking in the softness of them against your cheek, “Just being a perv then?”

“Mm,” Soobin moaned, “Wan’ fuck you, Y/n, baby.”

Your brows raised in surprise as the pet name fell from your lips already feeling his hand sink down toward his cock while tonguing at your sensitive nipple. You couldn’t help yourself at this point, stroking your fingers gently over his nipples, smiling as he shudders at the feel, cock slippery in his hands as you said, “Fuck me then.”

With a quick nod he lined himself up, missing your hole a few times till you offered him help and moaned. His body fell against yours, not sure what to do as the tightness of your pussy completely overwhelmed him, face between your tits, tongue trying to lick you even if he was so far away. He whined, “Y/n, Y-Y/n, help—“

His words died when you grabbed his hips, guiding them back before thrusting them into your own pussy until he got the rhythm. You didn’t even think twice about the fact that you weren’t using a condom. You were on birth control and though it wasn’t fully effective it was safer than not having anything and clearly it was too late. You didn’t expect the virgin to have condoms anyway.

“It’s okay, baby, nice and slow—fuck, Bin,” you moaned softly. Where did this new Soobin come from? He was fucking you now at a steady pace dragging his stupidly fat cock out till only his tip was in and drawing his hips forward till he impaled you. His mouth lazily kissed at your breasts before moving up your neck, humping his cock into your stretched out cunt with moans falling from his lips repeatedly.

Soobin was gasping for air and his grunts became louder and louder, slamming into you like his life depended on it, “So good.”

“Yeah?” You asked, clinging to him, “Love your first pussy?”

He kissed you nastily. Tongue down your throat and you could still taste your cum but it only made you moan. He was fucking you roughly, nails digging into your plump hips making sure you couldn’t escape his brutal thrusts even if you wanted to. It was his turn to lose control and fuck, he was so close.

It was a scene out of a porn video, it reeked of sex and his bed sheets were completely ruined. His stomach was covered in his cum that just soaked yours from the way he rutted himself against you and it was just nasty and horny. You hugged him close, legs wrapping around him, tits pressed against his chest, “I’m close, bunny, you gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm,” he whined fucking you so good you were seeing stars. His dick was just so big and the girth on it was insane, he impaled you over and over again, “Gonna cum.”

You know you should tell him to pull out. It’s the right thing to do but…

But…

Hot ropes of his creamy cum filled your cunt suddenly with a cry as his body shook against yours. Despite cumming twice already it felt never ending and you couldn’t help yourself. The stimulation was just too much, his cock still thrusting into the wet space between your thighs.

Soobin sniffled, face between your breasts, clinging to you so hard you had to practically pull at his hair, “Soobin, bunny, I know it was a lot but you have to move.”

He shook his head, you could hear his sniffles get louder, “Don’t wanna.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, pouting when you found his reddened eyes, “I need to clean up.”

He shook his head cutely but he knew better. He slowly pulled out, watching with starry eyes as globs of cum left your pussy, an urge to finger it back into you strong but he let you sit up in shock at the mess.

“Did you lie to me again?” You asked jokingly but it went right over his head even as you said, “You don’t fuck like a virgin.”

“No! I didn’t! You’re my first, I promise,” he basically followed you out of bed, “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not going to,” you assure him, “But I need to use the bathroom.”

“You’ll come back, right?”

You smiled, “I can’t just stay in there, can I? Lay down, I’ll help you clean up next.”

He nodded his head tiredly, doing just what you asked as he yawned.

Once you were done, hoping you got most of it out you opened the door to his bathroom, nearly screaming when you found him standing just on the other side of it. You gasped, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he sniffles and it looks like he’s been crying, “Sorry.”

“What for?” You asked, trying to lead him back to his bed feeling sad. What happened? You’re not used to Soobin like this. You laid him down and joined him, “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry for lying—I—I—I just like you so much and—and,” he struggled with words and you pulled him in for a hug, his head immediately on your chest.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay, I promise,” you said, “I like you too, why don’t you try and get some sleep? It was a lot for your first time, I’m sorry.”

“I liked it,” he said with a content sigh, “Promise you won’t leave?”

“I promise,” you said brushing his hair back but he wouldn’t budge.

“Pinky swear?” He asked hopeful that you smiled.

“I pinky swear,” you said, kissing the tip of his nose, “We’ve gotta talk anyway.”

He pouted once more, “About? Y-you don’t like me?”

“Binnie, I already told you I do,” you said softly, feeling him relax, “But we need to talk about what to do, right?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, finally relaxing against you, “Want you to be my girlfriend.”

“Aren’t I too mean, though?”

“Yes,” he said cutely, “But I like it.”

::.

ok this took me forever 😭😭sorry friends but I hope it was worth it.

taglist: @laylasbunbunny @bangchansbae

#choi soobin #soobin #soobin smut #soobin fluff #soobin fic #soobin oneshot #soobin fanfic #soobin imagines #soobin x y/n #Soobin angst #txt smut #txt soobin #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt post #choi yeonjun #kang taehyun #hueningkai #choi beomgyu

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 8 months

Text

❝ WHY AM I IN LOVE ALONE? (WHY AM I HURTING ALONE?) ❞

Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst with comfort | unrequited love, ex-cheater!Gojo, arranged marriage | wc: 8.5 k | not proofread

warnings: character death (Geto Suguru), mentions of infidelity, r! has self-esteem issues, r! has some dark thoughts about su!c!de, mentions of parent death, abuse from parents (r! is from an influential sorcerer clan, his family kinda sucks), talks of virginity

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

authors note: there are some time skips here and there, hopefully, it isn’t too confusing! I really appreciate all the comments on the first part of this and I hope this satisfies you guys!

The flame of the candle casts the room in an evershifting blue. Pulsing and moving, pushing and pulling as the shadows undulated. It resembles the way sunlight dances on the waves of the ocean, piercing through the waters to reach as far down as it could.

It reminded you of —

Of summer.

The candle flickers, sparks of orange briefly flying, just as your father walks through the door of cement. It takes five men to push but they do so without complaint. Your eyes squint to protect themselves from the fluorescent lighting of the hallway and the flame burns upwards in the offence.

The men hastily pull the door closed. Your ears itch from the grinding noise of stone and your skin warms from the candle but you say nothing.

Your father kneels across from you. Unbothered by the still-furious flame.

The candle is the only barrier between you. It sits on top of cylindrical stone; the melted wax nearly covers the top, some dripping down the sides but you’ve never seen this candle shrinking or the flame dimming.

The room you’re in is one of great importance to your family. It was taller than it was wide. Dark as sin without this cursed flame. The (L/N) family nearly fell into ruins some century ago, a member of your clan decided to turn this room into a place where no secrets would be safe, so you’d have no enemies.

After he had done this, your clan flourished.

It served its purpose. No lies could be told in this room.

“Is Gojo Satoru in love with you?”

The flame calms from its fury. As if listening.

“Yes.”

Sparks of orange fly, shooting from the wick and pathetically fizzing out. His eyes darken, swallowing that gorgeous blue like a black hole.

“So your mother speaks truthfully.”

He had hoped it was just mindless gossip — misplaced anger from his own infidelity. Your father was never one to admit your mother was right.

“Geto Suguru.”

His name makes you turn your eyes down to your lap. Your father’s frown deepens. Further settling into permanent lines of displeasure on his ageing face.

“My son, born of the (L/N) clan, promised to marry Gojo Satoru. A six-eye user, soon-to-be head of the Gojo clan. My son who had centuries of ancestors fought to put him in this position of power with a strong family name, riches and opportunities beyond belief.”

“Bested by a boy whose parents aren’t even curse users.”

That haunting blue burns steadily.

“This is your duty, as son of the (L/N) clan.”

“Father, how could I compete with Geto Suguru — “

Your father reaches through the flames and grabs your face. The skin of his arm reddens as the flame roars at the disrespect. It licks at your eyebrow, your eyes, your cheeks. It burns. Though not like a regular flame would. It doesn't eat away at your flesh and render the fat past that — the flame hisses, digs under your flesh, and sets your nerves ablaze.

The pain is white hot and you swear you burst a vein in an attempt to grit your teeth together. It's like you're burning from the inside out, your skull heating up and glowing from where your skin is stretched thinnest.

You've been through this time and time again but the pain never dulls. It pries your lips open and a strangled wail is ripped from your throat.

Your face is held so tightly your cheekbones feel as though one more gram of pressure would shatter it. His face splits through the fire as he scowls down at you.

“I will not let the decision of a 15-year-old boy destroy what I’ve tried so hard to build. This is bigger than you ever will be. Your marriage to Gojo Satoru will make our clan more powerful than ever.”

You weep as you nod your head while nails dig into the flesh of your thighs. He lets you go, pushing your face away from his hand as if he was tossing trash away. You back away, hands shakily hovering above where your skin feels as though it's sizzling. Like you always do, you lean on the wall and the cool wall is like heaven.

The flame calms just as your heart does, at times it is as though it pulses with the beating in your chest.

In those minutes, your father stays stoic.

“Love is worthless in matters of power. The things I ask you to do will strengthen our clan, and strengthen our abilities. Put your selfishness aside, boy. This is a debt you owe to your flesh and blood.”

“...Yes, father.”

“Why do people stay with someone like that?” Megumi scoffs from behind the couch. He’s dressed in his pajamas, hair still damp from the shower he took. Meanwhile, you were sitting watching the television, dressed for bed yourself.

“I think it's sweet,” you say. The series was truly ridiculous and overly dramatized. Some cheesy and soapy drama that plays at night when lonely adults need someone else’s problems to obsess over.

“He stays with her even with all her flaws.” Megumi’s face says more than he ever could. You laugh, beckoning him over to settle next to you.

This is the usual. Gojo is always busy with missions here and there. Sometimes even needing to get onto a plane - he could be gone for days at a time. Leaving you, Tsumiki and Megumi.

Well, just you and Megumi now.

He doesn’t react as you squeeze him a little closer, just tucking his legs comfortably to lean on you.

“Okay, but that doesn’t negate the fact that she’s hurt him. I mean, it’s honorable but — isn’t he tired? I mean, she slept with his dad. Twice!”

You chuckle, grabbing the towel he had slung over his shoulders to help him dry his hair.

“You were paying attention! I thought you hated this show,” Megumi rolls his eyes. “How can I not pay attention? It’s so stupid I can’t look away.”

“Please. Just admit you like watching shitty tv shows,” you tease.

“I really don’t,” he denies. Megumi shrinks a bit despite his words and you chuckle. The dialogue from the TV continues and Megumi relishes the ambience.

The way you gently dry his hair. The dumb characters talk about who slept with whom and what impossible surgeries they wanna do. The lingering scent of the takeout dinner you indulged in with him today. Your shampoo and body soap and the smell of the detergent you use help him sleep easier at night.

“Is it the same for you?”

He feels your fingers pause. Not frightfully, more confused. He continues as your movement does.

“You’re like this doctor. You stay even if he hurts you.”

“What are you talking about? Gojo’s never hurt me,” your tone was perplexed.

“I’m not blind," Megumi mumbles. You pull your hands away from Megumi, his towel now on your lap as you wait for him to turn around. He does.

Then a commercial plays, something about a new aquarium that’s just opened; it casts the living room in blue and your heart gets caught in your throat.

‘ It’s not the same, ‘ you tell yourself, ‘ I’m not my father. ‘

“Whatever gave you that impression?”

“You rarely call him by his name. You stay up when he’s here but turn in early when he’s not. You go to clan meetings alone but he brings you around everywhere when he’s here. Dates, gifts, compliments.”

Megumi shrinks under your gaze but meets your eyes unwaveringly.

“Every time you look like you’re about to smile at his jokes you just...pause and remind yourself about something...is it Geto?”

Megumi inhales sharply at the expression on your face. The commercial had come and gone and the next that plays is a stream of constant colour; chaotic and disarrayed. The red-orange and yellow make you look like a curse.

But then your eyes soften and his grip on his knees loosens.

“I — I saw a picture.“

There are pictures of Geto in the house. Gojo said he would be fine without it but you found it ridiculous how much hurt he thinks he’s saving you from. You were already brought to your knees and metaphorically beaten down by the man you love and the man he loved; your best friends.

A picture of the four of you in high school wasn’t going to make you less or more pained.

Megumi’s asked about Geto before. But not like this; not like he knows something he shouldn’t. Geto wasn’t a forbidden topic.

But.

Your children deserved better than that. They should believe that love is important and that their fathers are there for them through whatever it is. That Satoru and (Y/N) were not going to just disappear and leave them to fend for themselves.

“On his flipphone.”

Of course.

Of course he kept that useless piece of crap.

Of fucking course.

“The wallpaper was of them. They seemed closer than friends. Did Gojo hurt you because of Geto?”

“Despite his flaws, he’s still my husband, Megumi.”

That doesn’t satisfy your son. His brows twitch and he gets that defiant look in his eyes that makes your stomach twist into knots. The ghost of that man, Megumi’s biological father, always sweeps through your brain every time he gets so stubborn.

You don’t hate Megumi because of it. Gods know how much you wish you weren’t a (L/N) — you wouldn’t have chosen your parents. Your mother, absolutely. Your father could go rot in hell with his new wife.

“But you’re unhappy.”

“I’m not — ”

The trailer of a movie plays; it casts the room in orange for a brief few seconds.

“You are. You’re lying. I’m not a little kid anymore, I’d be fine if you...if you divorced Gojo, I don’t mind if you move out. If you’d let me, I’d stay over. A kid from my school has divorced parents, he seems fine. He said it made his parents happier.”

“Megumi — “

“I can take it. You don’t have to stay together for Tsumiki and me anymore. You’ve raised us well.”

Not well enough if he’s pleading for you to leave Gojo.

“You’re just a boy. You don’t know what you’re saying. I think the TV show is really starting to get to you,” you jest. Megumi’s never been one for jokes though. Especially not ones as dumb as yours. Your awkward grin falls and you sigh.

“It wasn’t because of Geto. Suguru and Satoru...”

Megumi’s ears prick. He could count on his hands the number of times you’ve uttered Gojo’s name. Each time, it’s said with such bitter longing. The rotten essence of first love and cruel summers dripped from every syllable. This time, however, there’s a softness to it, an emotion Megumi would later know as yearning.

“They were the strongest and they were inseparable. With Suguru, Satoru could just be. With Satoru, Suguru felt worthy.”

“I was,” you sucked in a breath. “I was...there. Yes, it hurt me but I love Satoru, Megumi.”

How could you not?

Those heavenly eyes and boyish grin. His lips seem painted by the angels and his hair spun from those impossible-to-reach clouds and the purest of light. Satoru was beyond beautiful.

He was funny, brash, and annoyingly persistent. His very existence was irritating to some; he was good at everything. His hands were like Midas, everything he touched turned into gold.

Nonetheless, he was human. You would know better than most. When Suguru left Satoru looked like a facade of a young god. That’s what Suguru did to him that you never could. Suguru made him human.

So you didn’t blame Satoru for falling in love. You couldn’t even blame Suguru for falling in love.

You were an obligation chosen out of his own comfort. (Y/N), his precious friend whom he’d marry once the two of you were 17 years old.

You were duty and honor. You were a reminder of his godhood. He was untouchable and ethereal; even so, he wanted nothing more than to fall into the arms of the one person who could make him unravel his soul. He held Suguru more preciously as you aged until he couldn’t anymore.

“I love him.”

“But you’re sad. He makes you...sad.”

It pained you to see Megumi try to understand. He was your son. This talk of a loveless marriage and divorce, him saying he would be fine with the aftermath as if he would have to carry responsibility for it.

He was just a boy. He was your boy and he’s trying to protect you when it should be the other way around.

So you shake your head and reach forward to cup his cheek in your palm.

“I still love him, Megumi. Sometimes, that’s enough.”

Megumi wants to tell you it isn’t.

If love was enough, his mother would be alive and his shitty father would have stayed to be a father to Tsumiki and him.

If love was enough, Tsumiki wouldn’t be in a coma.

But he says nothing and just shrugs. He murmurs a half-assed agreement and then stands from the couch. He goes to bed that night, wishing nothing more than to see the world from your eyes. You were his father. More than his own was.

Gojo was a busy guy so he warmed up to you first. Despite how tough it was for you to navigate being a teenager yourself as you raised him and his sister.

He just wanted to make you happy. Because clearly, you were incapable of doing it.

Megumi found it hard to sleep that night.

“Awh, asleep already?” Gojo frowned as he peeked into Megumi’s room. He was supposed to arrive the next morning but he missed his family. So he took an earlier flight.

A creak made him look your way and his eyes widened.

“Don’t bother him, Gojo.”

“(Y/N)…” his footsteps sound tentative as he walks towards you.

“Don’t look at me like that, I was just watching a sad movie is all. Megumi stayed up late, so don’t wake him. He’s got school tomorrow.”

Gojo doesn’t believe you. The way he’s gazing at you is as if you were the most pathetic curse to have ever graced the earth. Had he ever looked at Suguru that way before his betrayal?

Gods, even the thought of him has your brain pulsing. Those lost summers and cozy winters were yours too but of course, for Satoru, it must’ve been different.

To you, they were everything because your friends were there. More importantly, Gojo was there.

To him, his Suguru, they were all they needed.

You wipe away some of the tears, sniffling and turning away from Gojo. “You came home early. I didn’t cook dinner tonight, but I can heat-up some leftovers,” Gojo follows you to the dining area. He wants to ask if you are okay, even if he already knows the answer.

‘ Is it Suguru? ‘

It’s on the tip of his tongue. It’s been 9 years since his betrayal, your mother's funeral, your father's wedding. Between Tsumiki and Megumi, and the missions there was never a chance to have that conversation.

But what if it wasn’t? You were more than that. You existed beyond the shadow that Suguru cast — in Gojo’s eyes anyway.

The microwave dings and it casts the kitchen in a warm yellow glow. “How was the mission?” He watches you make a plate, standing near the kitchen island with his arms by his side. “It went great. The uh, the plane ride there was sorta bumpy though.”

“Yeah? You got scared or sumthin’?” He takes his bandages off, eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place.

‘ He’s making jokes, talking casually, ‘ Satoru thinks. His palms feel a bit clammy. “Hah, as if. Even if the plane was fallin’ I’d definitely get out of there,” he boasts with that careless smile.

You offer a chuckle, turning just as your smile fades into a polite purse of your lips. The plate is placed in front of him and he’s not hungry but he sits anyway.

Huh.

So this is what having an intimate dinner is supposed to feel like? It creeps in that you’ve never been on a date outside of this marriage. He had never wooed you before Geto. It was all casual and friendly. Even if it was just the two of you, your guardians would keep watch to ensure that nothing got too passionate.

Where were they when Gojo snuck into Geto’s room? Night after night, week after week...

He had never touched you like that. Every time he tried, you found yourself pushing him away. Not out of bashfulness or lack of attraction. You just can’t help but wonder if he’ll replace you with Geto in his mind and your heart breaks every time.

9 years of marriage and still, your bed was cold as ice.

At times you would feel panic, wondering if Gojo is with another body to fill that void that you can’t fill but then it ebbs away.

Because they weren’t Geto either. So they were just as meaningless as you.

You grimace.

To think you’d blush and swoon at the idea of your marriage. Enamoured at the fact Gojo chose you. Now here you are. A resentful friend, a horrid husband, and a failing father.

If it weren’t for Tsumiki and Megumi you would’ve been hanging from the ceiling or perhaps you’d “let your guard down” during a mission. Maybe even in front of your husband. Your train of thought is cut short as your mother’s face appears. Stiffening your lip, you turn your gaze to the table to collect yourself.

Gojo watches you shifting around and reaches a foot forward to bump into yours. He smiles at the way you get wide-eyed, frozen for a second.

“How was your day, my beloved?”

“I went to Jujutsu High to oversee Megumi’s transfer,” his brows lift.

“Already?”

“Just to make things easier, Gojo. So it isn’t so last minute. He practised summoning his Divine Dogs today too.”

You’re wringing your hands together, folding and unfolding your fingers all while glancing at the table. It reminds him of the day he found out you had feelings for him.

You were sat across from him just like you are now. The both of you were 15 and hungry, so you offered to pay for lunch. Suguru and Shoko had gone off to grab condiments and he saw it; that look of adoration in your eyes.

You were handsome and kind. A true friend to him, Suguru and Shoko. Then an idea popped into his head, an idea he’d never proceeded with if he had known the repercussions.

If he wed you, he’d still be able to be close to Suguru.

He was selfish. Suguru told him that it was cruel, you were their friend and this would hurt you.

“Satoru that’s cool-blooded. He’s had a crush on you for a year now, you shouldn’t,” Suguru murmurs.

“It’s just a crush, he’ll probably divorce me or something. Then, I’ll marry you, Suguru.” He interlaced his fingers with Suguru. Naked shoulder pressed to naked shoulder. His 16th had just passed, he’d have to marry you after his 17th birthday but it’s alright. He told himself you would get the message and he’d have Suguru. Duties fulfilled and promises honored.

“What?” Suguru’s eyes were so wide it was almost hilarious. Satoru turned on his side, outlining the traces his lips left on Suguru’s skin.

“Will you marry me, Suguru?”

Satoru’s guilt wraps around his heart with its sorrowful roots. He wonders if you think you’re ugly, or unworthy. His fondness for you wants nothing more than to hold you. You were his friend after all, before all of this; the missions the four of you would go on together were the highlights of his life.

He didn’t mean to hurt you.

The food tastes like ash in his mouth but he swallows it down.

“We should go out tomorrow.”

You blink at him, contemplating. He can see the tearstains on your skin, the wetness on your philtrum that you’ve tried to wipe away and the way your lashes are clumped together.

“Anywhere you wanna go, after we drop ‘Gumi off we’ll be off to the races. We could go shopping or —”

“I want to go on a mission with you.”

That catches him completely off guard. You offer a grin, and the slightest flash of teeth has Satoru nodding before you even get to say another word.

He owes you this. You deserve happiness.

“Of course, anything you want.”

Gojo should’ve stopped there. Said nothing else.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

All at once, he sees your eyes turn hollow and your smile tightens.

You don’t believe him.

“...Thank you, Gojo.”

Ever since, that’s the only way you responded to his “I love you’s”.

Thanking him for trying to convince you and himself that it was true.

Megumi’s never seen your father before. He looks so out of place at home. His hulking form and intimidating face were so rough like unpolished stone. He should be elsewhere, not eavesdropping like he is now but he can’t help himself.

Gojo had to tend to business and you couldn’t turn away your father. You knew what he was here to talk about anyway and after last night's screaming match with your husband, you were as tightly wound as a coiled snake.

“How is your wife, father?”

“She is healthy.”

A vein bulges from the side of your head, rage pumping through it as your jaw clenches. His gaze scrutinizes you in such an obvious way it makes you want nothing more than to exorcise him.

“Gojo Satoru killed Geto Suguru. Is this true?”

How could it not be true? You thought bitterly. My guilt, Gojo’s crying, my outburst — all proof of his death.

He scoffs, a pleased quirk on the corner of his lips.

“I suppose you’ve done well then, my son. You didn’t even have to do any bloody work.”

“You know nothing, father. Geto Suguru’s death was a tragedy, don’t you dare turn it into a victory,” you seethe.

“He was a troublemaker. A waste of breath — a weakling. He deserved all that he got, don’t tell me you’re sympathizing with a murderer?”

“He was my friend!” Megumi flinched as you yelled.

“If you hadn’t pushed me and Satoru to marry, all this pain would have been avoided. We would still be friends, I could grieve for him without bitterness in my heart!”

You have no more tears to give. Instead, your anger burned like an inferno, burning you from the inside as you glared at your father.

“You’ve ruined me just like you ruined my mother. Where is duty? Honour? All of that is just trampled by your greed! You are dishonorable! Disgusting! Selfish!”

“You dare speak to me that way?” He lifts his hand and Megumi's palms hover close to stop him. The doors slide open. Satoru stands there. Even with his blindfold on, his gaze is heavy.

He calls your father's name. He doesn’t hide his disrespect. No titles were shared. No acknowledgment of his relation to you. He was beyond mad.

“It’s best if you leave, old man.”

Your father lowers his hand and you realize your nails are digging into your palm as blood seeps through your fingers.

“This younger generation truly knows no respect. Does it pain both of you to be together? Is my son so ugly, Satoru?” He laughs derisively. “Put a pillow over his face as you take him then! Gods knows I did the same with his mother.”

You open your mouth and yell, an ugly yell that's so full of anguish and anger; no words or vulgarity. A scream that makes Gojo’s throat hurt hearing it. Your father looks at you in disgust, shaking his head as he turns his back to you.

“Pathetic.”

You lunge at him and Gojo stops you, gathering you into his arms as you try to reach for your father.

“I’ll kill you!”

“Beloved, that’s enough —”

“You monster! I’ll burn you alive!”

“(Y/N)! He’s gone! That’s enough!”

Gojo doesn’t know why but he lets his infinity down. He lets you dig your fingers in his shoulder, and scratch the back of his hands as he tries to gather your wrist and grunts as your head bumps into his.

“I’ll kill him! Let me kill him!”

He grabs your wrists and pushes them against your chest. You’re pinned to the wall and the more you struggle the more he presses on your chest. It forces you to take deep breaths, and for your brain to catch up with your body.

“He should be the one that’s dead! Not my mother! Not Suguru! Him! Why isn’t he fucking dead!?”

Satoru can’t help but think of those final moments with Suguru.

How ragged his breathing was as he leaned against the wall.

“At least curse me a little at the very end.”

Suguru’s smile makes Satoru feel like a teenager again. He reaches forward and Suguru noses into his palm. Satoru’s breath comes out in a shudder. There he is, the man he loves more than anything, dying.

Suguru hums as Satoru leans over to hug him. Using the bit of strength he has left his head slots where it belong; in the junction of Satoru’s neck and shoulder. He remembers how ticklish he was there and manages a chuckle as Satoru flinches as his hair did just that.

He has so many things to say.

But he feels that wedding band and he’s glad that Satoru won’t be alone.

“You went on a date with (Y/N) at the crepe restaurant, I could sense your curse energy.” His daughters had wanted to go there after and Suguru remembered how bittersweet it was to sit where the two of you had sat. He had imagined himself as you and he’s struck with the want to see you and Ieiri and —

“I should have married you.”

Suguru’s eyes water. “Satoru —”

“All I do is hurt him. You were right, Suguru. I was cruel. If I married you, we would all be happy. Your daughters and my children, they’d be siblings. (Y/N) would have found someone who would never be as cruel as I am. We would still be friends. I should’ve married you. I should’ve married you.”

Suguru was selfish too. He resented you for having Gojo. It pained him to think about how lucky you were — he wished you misfortune.

What kind of friend does that?

You’d met his parents. Spent birthdays together, and went through lessons and missions together. How could he resent you and love Satoru and Shoko so dearly?

“I chose my path, Satoru. But in another life...in another life, we’re all happy.”

Satoru feels Suguru’s lips press to his jaw.

“You can make it right, Satoru. You love him, you’ll know what to do. Just don’t be so crass, yeah?”

Your yelling doesn’t cease. He’s half a mind to yell along with you because there’s truth in your words.

Why is it that everyone that mattered wasn’t here? Because they’d hold you and tell you were alright. Your mother would’ve done everything she could to ease your pain. Suguru would be here to do the same for both of you. What would they say if they were here?

What could they do to help you?

Help him?

Satoru lets you push him away. Megumi wonders if he should walk in now. He’d never seen you like this. He takes one step forward and Satoru speaks.

“I want a divorce.”

A pin could drop and Megumi was sure it would sound like an explosion. Your chest heaving slows as Satoru watches you straighten your posture.

“Do you live to embarrass me, Satoru?” You can feel his infinity go back up.

“Or is it me that embarrassed you? Should I allow my father to mock Suguru’s death? What am I meant to have done? What could I do to satisfy you, husband?”

“This marriage is hurting us.”

Your bark of laughter makes Satoru’s heart clench.

“A marriage YOU could’ve prevented. Did you forget that? You’ve had all the time to stop it. In those 3 years, you fucked Suguru and confessed your love to him. What exactly did you intend for my life?” You cross your arms, trying so hard to keep everything contained but your mouth can’t stop itself.

“Because I could have been fine. Maybe my father would have cast me aside but at least I would have moved on. Instead, you wormed yourself into my heart and infected me from the inside out.”

“Your mother just passed. I didn’t want to cause you more pain by canceling our wedding —”

Your palm doesn’t strike him but that isn’t with lack of trying. He can see the way your hands shake as you attempt to nullify his infinity. The trails of blood that drip down from your nails piercing through your palm from earlier. Your eyes were as dark as night as you stared at him with a blank expression.

“You are dishonorable, Gojo Satoru. You are selfish, and you deserve nothing you have. Not me, not Megumi, not Tsumiki, not Ieiri and you sure as hell didn’t deserve Suguru.”

He snaps at you. Slapping your hand away as he points a finger in your face.

“You don’t get to scream at me when I tried to make this marriage work! For 10 years all I’ve ever done was love you!”

“All you’ve ever done is bury Suguru by using me, Satoru!”

“Oh, that’s bullshit!” Megumi is frozen in place. He had never seen you fight before. Had never ever seen Gojo yell or lose his cool. He feels his heart hammering against his chest and clasps his hands together.

“Every time I touch you, you pull away! Every time I kiss you, you flinch — Fuck! Do I repulse you?”

“You don’t get to be pissed about not being able to fuck me, Satoru.”

He takes off his blindfold and those cerulean eyes shine with fury.

“Of course I fucking do! You want to be the martyr so fucking badly and you did it, (Y/N)! You’re the martyr!”

You don’t let him poke his finger into your chest but despite your smacks, he touches you anyway. He grasps your wrist and his grip is so tight you can tell it’ll bruise.

That horrifying blue sears your skin.

“I may be selfish but you’re fucking vindictive, (Y/N). You tell yourself that you’re nothing and somehow it comes true. Living, stewing, in a dead man’s shadow just so you can feel good about not returning my efforts!”

Just a few nights ago he was sweet. Telling you that he loves you and he wanted you. You never believed him and here was your proof, the labor of your hurt and pain stands before you with righteous ire.

“So I’m done! I’m done.” You shake your head. He scoffs, letting you go as if he was tossing trash away.

“(Y/N) — ”

“We’ll divorce next year. Next year on this day, I’ll allow you to divorce me. But not now. Not today. Call me a vindictive, vengeful, stubborn asshole. But what I’ll not allow you to do is humiliate me all over again.”

Satoru wants to say something, but the whine of an animal stops him.

When you find Megumi clutching the neck of his Divine Dog your anger disappears in an instant. He isn’t crying though it’s obvious he’s simply holding it back. The dog's part as you reach to cup his face, whispering his name as he attempts to steel his expression.

“...I’m so sorry, Megumi. I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugs. Satoru sighs, combing his fingers through his hair as he crouches next to you.

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t have to listen to that," Satoru sighs. “I’m old enough — “

You stop him by pulling him into a hug. He’s stunned, his face would have been comical in any other situation so Satoru smiles.

“You’re just a boy. Don’t act so tough so soon,” Satoru reminds him.

The few things Satoru and you could relate to was how your children would never have to face the theft of their youth as long as you were alive. You squeeze him tighter and he returns it, burying his face into your shoulder.

Despite being pissed at Satoru, he says nothing as he feels him stroke his head.

The dogs whine again and nuzzle Satoru and you, licking Megumi’s ears and cheek to dissipate this acrid scent of fear and anxiety.

“Can I stay over with you sometimes?” You know what he actually wants to ask you.

‘ When you leave am I still allowed to need you? ‘

His shoulders sag in relief as you nod.

“You don’t even have to ask, Megumi. You know I love you, right? I’ll always love you, my beautiful son.”

“Couldn’t have gotten a place with better Wi-Fi?”

Shoko glares minutely as you pluck her cigarette out of her mouth. You put it in yours and she gags at the indirect kiss which makes you roll your eyes.

“Just because you’re single doesn’t mean I’m interested, (Y/N),” you scoff and shove her shoulder. She stiffens on purpose but sways a bit. It makes you laugh.

The house you bought was a cute duplex penthouse. Something small for yourself and for Megumi when he slept over. Shoko was the only person to have seen it so far — other than Megumi of course.

Your divorce was months away but it was far too awkward to sleep on the same bed as Satoru after that fight. This was for the best; baby steps until you’re officially separated.

“Hm, even if I was interested in women you’re not exactly my type.” She lights up another cigarette and leans on the railings of your balcony. Man, hate Satoru all you want but he sure was generous with his money. The view was stunning. It must have cost a fortune.

“So. You’re single now.”

You cringe and shrink down, limply holding the cigarette as you brace your chin on your arm.

“For the first time in 13 years...”

“27 is a perfectly good age to fuck around. Not too old to scare anyone of a respectable age off but not too young to make people feel like a creep.”

“You’ve such a way with words, Shoko,” you mutter dryly.

“I’m just saying, sex is a great way to get your mind off of things.”

“Says who?” She laughs, turning to you with a cocked brow.

“Satoru may be the golden child of the sorcerer world but he’s not a sex god. His dick isn’t that good, alright? There’s someone out there that’ll make you feel like a virgin again,” her laughter dies out as she takes note of your bashful eyes.

“...No.”

“What?”

Shoko's brows furrow. It’s the most expressive she’s ever been.

“10 years and not once?”

You hide your face further into your arms.

“(Y/N)!”

“Okay! We never had sex, alright? I — I don’t know if he ever went to get his dick wet from somewhere or someone else. But me and him never fucked. I’m an adult virgin! Sue me!”

“Not even a handjob?”

You groan, smushing the cigarette into the ashtray before going back inside. She follows, belatedly smushing her cigarette when you remind her with a look.

“Ok — Okay, but do you want to be a virgin? It’s perfectly reasonable if you do. I’ll respect your choices. But, why didn’t you...?”

“Shoko, every time he touched me...I felt like the ugliest person on this goddamn planet. We tried,” you sighed. “He tried a few times. Never pushy, never forcing but no matter what fucking angle he approached it from. I just couldn’t.”

Shoko slides her arm over your shoulder and you pliantly turn to return the hug. Her shirt, unsurprisingly, reeks of cigarettes but it brings a semblance of comfort. For a moment you’re washed over with nostalgia though for once, it comes with no pain.

“Well, you’re good-looking and you should definitely take half of Satoru’s money in the divorce. You’re good with kids too, a definite catch,” she presses a kiss on your forehead and you accept it with a loose grin.

“You deserve someone and if you don’t want anyone that’s fine too. Just promise to invite me out sometimes,” her eyebags suddenly seemed darker and so you give her another hug.

“I love you, Shoko.”

“I know. Unfortunately, I do too.”

“You love me,” you tease as your fingers wiggle and she pushes your face away ruthlessly.

“Heavy emphasis on the unfortunately — tickle me and I won’t heal you.”

She lets you escape her grasps, flabbergasted at her statement.

Satoru twists the ring, the light that it catches shimmering bashfully at his attentiveness. His husband had moved out, Megumi decided to sleep over after a whole day of helping him settle in and Satoru didn’t know how to feel about it. His hand feels naked and uncomfortable. The air that breezes lightly on the bare skin make gooseflesh ripple. The ring is enclosed by his fingers and he props his face on the fist, peering at the papers of this mission and that. The writing all look like giberrish, floating aimlessly in his brain as he thinks of (Y/N).

Had he truly never felt Satoru’s affections? It might have not been the love he deserved but to call it nothing was egregious. Or was he being selfish again?

Satoru pinches his nose bridge. His throat longs for the burn of alcohol which surprises him. He wasn’t much of a drinker — he wasn’t a happy drunk.

The ring grew warm in his hold and Satoru squeezed it. It always had the funniest way of doing that. It was as if it was alive, like a cursed object made to punish Satoru. Whenever his eyes wander or his mind reminisces of passionate nights, it burns and he resents himself for it. 10 years of involuntary celibacy was not something he thought of when he was younger. He liked sex. He doesn’t know if it was because it was good or because it was with Suguru. Regardless, Satoru enjoyed it.

He thought that if you got over that hurdle in your relationship, the two of you could fall into sync. He knows he cares about you and he knows you love him.

The house was so quiet. Satoru wants nothing more than to hear your soft breathing, Megumi’s sleepy mumbles and Tsumiki’s shifting around in bed.

He was supposed to be the strongest so why couldn’t he keep his family together?

Suguru told him that in another life they were all happy. But Satoru can’t help but ask himself why not in this life?

His hand unfurls and he slips the ring back in place.

(Y/N) Gojo is a Grade 1 sorcerer with extraordinary skill and wit in battle. His face was crafted by angels with feather-light touches, ones that thumbed the furrows of his brow with a sense of melancholy and kissed his eyelids with love; Satoru did not deserve you. He didn’t deserve to wake up with you by his side, caught by how beautiful you were when your guard was down.

Satoru suddenly wonders what made him unable to fall. It wasn’t your personality, nor your voice. You were funny, intelligent, headstrong, resilient, and everything most men fantasized about. Was it him? Even with all his attempts, his sweet gestures and words, did you see through it?

Did you see him?

What was it that you saw?

A tall child craving for his favorite person to come back?

…Was it a pathetic sight, (Y/N)?

Did you heart bleed for him?

Satoru stands, slipping the mission papers back into their files.

His guilt is a willow tree you had planted within him, tended by his own hands and watered with your tears. It’s beautiful and lonely, surrounded by flowers that climb and choke its branches as it hopes for someone to understand it.

You had. You understood the isolation he felt being on top and you supported him and got stronger to reach him. You saw right through him and he remained blind to you.

Shoko's name flashed across the screen of his phone. Satoru picks it up mindlessly, sitting on the end of your — his bed.

“You better give him half of your belongings in the divorce,” she says. He hears the burn of the cigarette as she inhales.

“Suguru was my friend. Just as much as he was (Y/N)’s.”

Satoru’s brow twitched. “Excuse me?”

“Suguru. I was there, believe it or not, and so was (Y/N). Suguru was our friend, our brother, our Suguru. We grieve him every day. Even before he was dead, we grieved him. I don’t fault you for being a shitty husband because of your grief, (Y/N) wasn’t the best husband either.”

“Don’t pretend to understand — “

“Get out of your head and stop mourning alone. All those years. When have you ever come to see me, Satoru? I was hurting too. ”

She exhales, flicking the ashes away as Satoru covers his wet eyes.

"I fucked up, Shoko." That was an understatement of the decade. She glances at the night sky, watching the buildings breeze past.

"I fucked up."

“Itadori Yuuji?” You squint your eyes at the papers, ignoring the warmth that Satoru emits from your side. You were at a clan meeting. One that Satoru decided to join so, you had no choice but to listen to him.

“Sukuna’s vessel,” he tilts his head, scratching the back of his neck from the uncomfortable button-up you forced him into. If he wanted to annoy you, you’d gladly return the favor. It was a few sizes too tight and the tie you put around his neck choked him but, he acted as cool as a cucumber.

“The boy Megumi found?” He nods and you read his papers with more fervor.

“You fought Sukuna?” He smiles cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear as he spins in place.

“I won,” he cheers. It takes all your self-restraint not to throttle him. “That was reckless,” you hissed out, ignoring the servants eyeing the both of you as they set down the trays of tea and finger foods.

“I’m the strongest. I would’ve won anyways,” he peers over your shoulder to read through the report again.

“Why are you showing me this? The higher-ups already called for his execution.” He places his chin on your shoulder. Your breath hitched yet, neither of you commented on it.

“I told them I’d kill them if they executed Itadori Yuuji,” he faces you as you turn to glare at him. Your lips were centimeters apart. Satoru takes note of your racing heart.

“Are you insane?”

“He’s just a boy doing what he could to save our son. Itadori shouldn’t have to be killed for doing the right thing.”

He lets you push his head away, slipping the papers back into the document sleeve and sliding it over to him.

“He will be executed once he eats all his fingers, he is a lamb sent to slaughter.”

At times like this, you think of Suguru and wonder if he was telling some truth about the world you lived in. Kids dying in droves because of curses that would never exist if non-sorcerers didn’t exist. But really, this was no one's fault but Sukuna. The old bastard couldn’t just die instead, he prolongs his existence like a roach.

"Megumi blames himself for that,” your heart squeezes at the thought. “They get along great, such rambunctious students. You would love them, you could spend more time with ‘Gumi.”

“Satoru, I’m not going to be a teacher. I’ve no patience for it,” he looks befuddled at your words. “You’ve been my husband for 10 years, so that’s a lie.”

The reminder of your marriage earns him a stink eye that he just giggles at. The official papers were to be served in a few more months. Until then, you were still together in the public eye.

“Just...think about it, (Y/N). I know you’ve been busy with missions and these boring meetings but I also know you miss Megumi and he missed you too.”

Gods, he’s playing that card. Why does he always need to play that card? He knows you give in every time.

“How have those missions been? You’ve been traveling a lot,” he puts Itadori’s file away and gives you his full attention. “Exhausting but it is fun to sightsee and make new friends,” you reach for the cup of tea.

“...Ya popped your cherry yet?”

The tea sprays onto the table and you cough violently as you save yourself from the near-death experience. A servant gasps and rushes to clean the mess, another asking if you’re alright and if the tea was too bitter or hot.

“You’re — You are — “ he grins as you cough and pats your back. “You are so gross, Satoru!”

He cackles at your flustered expression.

The servants leave eventually and you stew as you sit across from Satoru, back turned to him to stare out at the courtyard. Your silhouette makes his smile widen. He props his chin in his palm, taking in the sight of you.

“I wouldn’t mind if you had. I was just asking, as a friend.” He’s glad your shoulders don’t stiffen. The only reply he earns is your middle finger.

“Whaaat? I just wanted to know if it was good.”

“Is this how you’re going to convince me to be a teacher? By asking vulgar questions?”

“Not my intention but if I can kill two birds with one stone then why not?” You groan as you hang your head, hoping the ground will swallow you whole. Satoru hums a tune as he awaits your answers.

“Fine! Fine. I’ll be a teacher.”

“You’ve earned one mark! For a full mark, answer the other question!”

You’re tempted to throw the whole tea set to his face but can’t help the smile that crawls on your face at his animated movements. So you turn to face him, shaking your head as you sigh.

“No, I haven’t. Does that satisfy you?” Satoru’s slack jaw makes you want to punch him.

“Nearly four months of traveling and missions and meeting other people. Not one got into your pants?” You huff and cross your arms.

“So you’ve let someone into your pants, husband?” Satoru gasps. “How dare you? I’ve been a dutiful teacher and my students will attest to this!”

He then placed his elbows on the table, looking like a schoolgirl about to gossip.

“You should tell me all about your type, I’ll be more than happy to help you,” he draws hearts in the air with his finger.

Your type? You wanted to scold him and maybe even degrade him for acting like a perverted cuckold but this question catches you off guard.

You found Satoru attractive. Then again, who didn’t? But what was your type? You place your chin between your thumb and finger. Satoru waits patiently.

“I don’t know, I mean, I know I like men but...huh...”

You scratch the back of your neck.

“I guess I never really thought about it.”

Satoru exhales, endeared by the worry on your face. He was a shitty husband but Satoru was a good friend. You had put your life on pause for his. It was only fair that he helped you. He may not be able to fully piece together your heart but he’ll do what he can until you can smile again.

Those months away helped, there’s no doubt about it, but he knows you miss home and you needed to put down new roots in soil that wasn’t infested and toxic.

He knows you’ll probably take years to forgive him. He’s willing to wait, so he can have his friend back.

“We can start simple. Which one of our friends would you sleep with?” Your shrug makes him list some names. Then the sight of your eyes widening as he says Nanami Kento makes him gasp.

“Nanami!? Our underclassmen!?”

As Satoru guffaws and goes on about how boring Nanami was your mind ponders on this tightening of your chest.

Were you too lenient with Satoru? After all he has done?

You weren't without sin or fault. You understand that much but this feels so different. Familiar, actually, there's no expectation in Satoru's affections.

It was casual and it made you feel lighter than you have in a long time.

Should you be angrier? As a boy, his friendly attitude felt like a slap across the face. Now, it just feels right. Has your heart finally stopped beating for Satoru? All it took was 10 years of a shitty marriage?

It was rare for sorcerers to live as long as you have. A sense of panic grips you. For a moment, the thought of time wasted flashes. Then, those sweet memories of Tsumiki and Megumi seep in. Memories of Shoko, Satoru, Suguru and you laughing boisterously at something stupid while eating at the school field.

Your eye creases as your cheeks lift. Satoru is still rambling about Nanami and the only thing that makes him stop is a sound from his fondest memory.

You're laughing. Clutching at your stomach and tear-pricked eyes kinda laugh. His huff of disbelief transitions into a chuckle.

Oh, you forgot how good it felt to laugh this hard. It felt so nice to have him as a friend again. So fucking nice.

"His cheekbones are something to behold, I know, but did you forget his old hairdo?"

Satoru can see the warmth seep back into your skin, your eyes are glowing again as you cover your face; those heavenly shades of (E/C) peek through your fingers. The ring glimmers, and for a moment Satoru's chest doesn't feel heavy.

"You can do better, husband," he says. Your teeth are in full view. No longer hidden by a grimace or frown or a tight-lipped grin. There was still a long way to go but Satoru was willing to go the distance. For his beloved friend who deserves it all.

He can't wait to tell Megumi you are back for good this time. He can't wait to see you interact with his students. He knew you'd get along with them, they'd love you. Gods know they need a break from him at times.

"You're so fuckin' dumb, 'Toru," you exclaim. He agrees with a hum and for the first time in a long time, you feel like yourself again.

"Made you laugh though," he dodges the pillow you'd been kneeling on with glee.

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #gay reader #male reader insert #male!reader #satoru gojo angst #satosugu #satoru gojo x yn #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x male reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x male reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you

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acidsoju · 3 months

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CLASS PREZ

genre: smut, high school seniors! nonidol au, enemies to ??? (fuck buddies maybe?) pairing: class president!soobin x troublemaker!reader warnings: nsfw, dom!soobin, a lot of swearing, oral (m. receiving; f. kinda receiving), unprotected sex (dont!), unedited so probably bad writing word count: 4.4k summary: when student council president, choi soobin, becomes the terror of the whole school and you must do something to stop him.

Soobin used to enjoy his time at school. Always having been a lil’ of a control freak, when he was elected as president of the student council he felt as if he held the world in his hands, even thought it was the mere administration of students’ affairs. Still, things changed since he climbed to the top of the student’s pyramid, changed for good if you were to ask him; where you could see students running down hallways before, now there was peace and quiet and those who’d dare to break the not running rule, would have to spend hours scratching gum from down the desks.

Where you could see girls with extremely short skirts, the thin clothe flying mindlessly at their movements putting on disposal to everyone who’d walk by their thighs and, sometimes, even a sight of their panties, now if you were to break the not more than five inches above the knee rule, you’d had to endure the oldest professor in school’s lecturing.

Earrings were gone; make up, gone; comics and non-educational books inside the building, gone. Wearing earphones was a no; nail polish was a crime; no wrinkles in your school uniform were allowed to be seen. Some kids even started fearing talking on the halls, just a normal conversation between friends.

Things had to stop.

“This guy is a tyrant.”

A fist bumped against the cold, single table inside the small janitor’s room. The dim light of the mere light bulb hanging on the center of the room barely made everyone’s faces visible. Vibes were the same from that old mafia movie you had seen last night, except for the fact none of you were rich old men in their forties.

“We have to do something about him.” Beomgyu continued saying, his fist pressing down on the table, eyes looking straight into everyone else’s. “This is too much!”

“Quiet, please, we don’t want to get caught, remember.” You mumbled, your hand going up and resting over his clenched fist. You looked at the two other people in the room.

“But what can we do? I mean, we voted for him.” Said Hueningkai, arms crossed over his chest and a nervous look washing his features, the threat of being caught practically hiding and conspiring against the number one at school making him feel sick on the stomach.

“I didn’t vote for him.” Taehyun added, shrugging.

“Listen, now…” You spoke, getting up from your seat and placing your palms against the table as you leaned closer. “There must be something we can do, we need to break him, make him fall from his position.”

“I may have an idea…”

Oh, Beomgyu and his ideas; somehow you always were the only one getting the worst part.

That was what you thought as you waited at the end of the hall. The boys had cut short your skirt a little too much, more that they had promised, barely covering your ass; your lips shone thanks to the gloss you applied and that would occasionally stain the gum in your mouth whenever you’d make a balloon with it; you were sure the music from your earphones was loud enough to hear it if you passed by. Your tie hung loose around your neck and the first two buttons of your shirt were unbuttoned, showing a little the line of your breasts popping up, more skin that you were supposed to show on the sacred grounds of school.

“And you’re sure this is gonna break him?” You had asked Beomgyu once you had change into your perfect attire. He nodded, looking up and down at you, eyebrows furrowing, looking to whatever was missing according to him before offering you a piece of gum.

“Yeah, just be yourself—And I mean, a pain in the ass.”

Your head snapped to look over your shoulder when you heard footsteps coming down from the stairs. That’s him, you thought after checking at the time on your phone; the student council meeting must have ended around this time. And you confirmed it when his tall, tidy-self appeared in your vision, the widening in his eyes worthy of the cartoon’s praises. He froze in his place, three stairs before reaching your floor, and tilted his head to a side, eyes taking the sight of you completely.

Shit, you even could hear the alarms running off in his head. His eyebrows twitched, looking up from the sight of your bare thighs to your unbuttoned and loose shirt before going back at your eyes, not going unnoticed by him the way you grossly and purposely chew the gum in your mouth, making disgusting sounds. His mouth opened, probably ready to tell you were going to be expelled even though he didn’t have that kind of power in his hands, but the words were caught in his throat when you smiled, grinned, at him, your eyes beaming in mischief before looking away and making a run from him.

“He-hey! No running in the halls!”

Feeling the rush of adrenaline in your veins, you couldn’t stop the giggling that scaped from your lips as you heard his hurried steps behind yours. As some people peeked through the classrooms’ windows and doors at the noise outside in the hall, you spotted Beomgyu reaching out with a file of papers in your direction, that you quickly grabbed and shot them up, papers spreading all over the hall as they fell. You stopped before the stairs at the other end of the hall and looked over your shoulder, caughting Soobin’s angry stare glued to you; his eyes, again, widening at the realization of your next move.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, don’t-

Pressing down your thighs over the cold railing, you lifted your feet from the floor and suppressed the urge to squeal as you slid down, hair flaying back. It had been some time since last time you slid down a railing, probably since you were fourteen, but it was just as riding a bike.

You still could hear Soobin’s footsteps following close behind you, trying to get a hold on you, so when you reached the last floor, you didn’t stop running and instead, hurried your pace. Soobin stopped trailing you when he saw you exiting the main building and turning on a corner around it, loosing the sight of you. He panted, anger flushing his veins, his ears fury red; lucky for him, as he fixed the slid down frame of his glasses he spotted at his feet a pair of earphones that, oh so responsible of you, had a small tag with your name on it.

The plan didn’t go as you hoped: Soobin’s tyrant habits didn’t stop nor lessened, but you had had so much fun and, one thing you noticed was that things around school sure were so much lively since the rumors of your little performance from a few days ago had spread all over the school.

“Damn, what I would give to see the look on his face!” Exclaimed Beomgyu with daydreaming eyes again and again, fascinated when you had told the boy all about the president’s reaction.

“Maybe next time you should dress up-

Words hung in the air when your classroom’s door opened a few minutes before class was supposed to star. Of course, it wasn’t your professor; the coquettish giggling from some other students gave it away. The student council vice-president, Yeonjun, wasn’t even half-terrible or intimidating as the president was, but still if you were ever to caught him moody, god, it was the end for you.

You hoped this wasn’t the case.

His cold eyes scanned your classroom and when his gaze stopped in yourself, practically hiding behind Beomgyu’s frame, a small smile draw in his pink, puffy lips.

“Y/n?”

“Fuck.”

“Y/n? When today’s classes are over, the student council president would like to see you.”

Oh, oh, oh, you were so fucked.

So, after that day’s final class, while your friends hugged you goodbye as if it was going to be the last time you saw each other, you promised not to follow ever again a plan of Beomgyu, if it, of course, you were to make it alive today.

The student council’s office was on the last floor of the school building and it was as big as two of your classrooms combined. You heard some talking inside when you stopped in front of the tag that read ‘student council member’s only’, before knocking slowly against the door three times. The noise inside stopped.

For the second time of the day, Yeonjun stared at you, nodding as he opened the door and took a step aside to let you in. Some of people inside gave you one of the nastiest looks you had ever received in your life, but instead of looking away you only snarled back at them, some of them gasping at your so rabid reaction.

Soobin was there, of course, sitting down on his personal desk; hands clasped covering the bottom half of his face as his dark eyes followed you closely, like you were some kind of prey.

You stopped in the middle of the room, eyes never looking away from his.

“Leave us.” Soobin spoke calmly to the rest of the people in the room; they, of course, obliged hurriedly, giving you some more ugly stared before walking out. The last one was Yeonjun who, with a lazy and small smile on his lips, just nodded in your direction and walked away with his bag hanging from his shoulder, closing the door behind him. Your eyes went back to Soobin, whose eyes were piercing at yourself, even from behind the glasses on his face. “Sit.”

“No, thanks,” You could tell the way his stare only hardened at the mocking tone on your words. A sigh scaped his lips, before resting down his hands over his desk and leaning back on his seat, head slightly tilting back as his eyes stared holes into you, looking up and down at your clothes. “Needed something from me? I’m kinda in a hurry…”

“What a shame, then.” He licked his lips, eyebrows narrowing in fake concern. His fingers traced down a file over his desk and he flipped it open, eyes flicking to the papers inside and then started reading out loud. “Y/n, senior, nineteen years old, transferred from Daegu with your cousin Choi Beomgyu two years ago, grades average, behavior bad; sleeping at class, eating at class, non-compliance of the school’s policies, making a ruckus in the middle of the hall, taking back at teachers, sneaking from classes and I could go on and on.”

Your eyes fell open into an ‘o’ shape, mockingly. “Don’t tell me you run a background check on me, you perv.”

“Incredibly disrespectful.” He added, his eyes went up to look into yours again, putting down your file. “Now what should I do with you?”

“I have an idea,” You smiled trying to give him the best innocent look you could give him. “Why don’t I just go back home, reflect on my actions and we both pretend nothing of this ever happened, uh, prez?” Soobin cracked a big laugh at your words, throwing his head back and smiling in obvious irony at your words.

“Cute, but don’t even think about it.” He got up from his seat and walked around his desk, stopping in front of it and sitting down, arms crossing over his chest as he faced in your direction. “Since I’m a good prez who listens to everyone’s opinion before making a decision, I’ll hear yours, so you chose; we can give you a three weeks ban from school plus doubling your obligatory homework or you can do some voluntary work with the school janitors for two months.”

You snorted at the terribly, awful options you had; Soobin took in your reaction and licked his lips, smoothing the growing smirk in his lips as your mouth fell open in annoyance and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Well, aren’t you pretty fucking nice, prez?” You snarled, eyes scrunching down at his relaxed frame awaiting an answer from your doomed-self. “This is completely your fault!”

“Excuse me?” Soobin questioned, his back stiffening. “How is it my fault that you’re such a brat?”

“You’re the fucking tight shit that wants us to roam around school like it's some kind of prison,” Soobin’s eyebrows went up and his hands closed in fists against the desk. “I mean, school supposed to be fun- “

“School is for learning.” He cut you off, his frame lifting up from his desk and talking a step closer to you. “Which, if I look at your grades, doesn’t seem like you’re doing.”

“You’re so full of yourself, shitty-head.” You took a step closer to him as well, pointing your index finger to his face, eyes throwing knives. “For some of us it’s actually hard the study part.”

Soobin snorted, his cold breath hitting against your face as you had grown closer to each other. “Agh, please! You don’t even try! All I have ever saw you do is walking around in that slutty skirt of yours and batting your eyes to whoever crosses your path.”

“Oh? What is this? Is the prez an actual perv?” You tilted your head, an amused smile growing in your face as you pushed your finger against his firm chest. Soobin’s stare becoming darker and darker each second as he held your gaze. Still, you traced up and down your finger. “Have you gotten so mad at me because you’re the only loser I haven’t let take a peek under my skirt, uh?” You pouted, mockingly feeling himself shudder under your touch.

His breath hitched when your finger went up from his chest and brushed against his neck, his Adam’s apple moving as he gulped down.

“Such a shame that your pretty face is going to waste when you have this fucked up attitude all the time,” You shook your head, disapprovingly. “why don’t you be nice for once and just let me go, uh?”

“You’re actually such a bratty slut, aren’t you?” He growled, his voice coming off lower and deeper than it actually was, making your knees weaker. His hand closed tightly around the one you held up against him. “Trying to sweet talk your way out of this? Out the mess you made?” He licked his lips, his eyes dangerously glancing down at yours, so closed to his, so pretty opened in amusement at his sudden snap. “Shouldn’t I be a good prez and teach you a lesson myself?”

You weren’t able to react on time before Soobin redirected your hand and pressed your open palm against the dump in his pants, hard, tight. Your eyes widened at his action and quickly tried to pull away, but his hold in you only hardened as he pressed your palm against him, his hips barely rubbing against the touch.

“What the fuck? Are you an actual pervert?”

Soobin snarled. “Such a pretty mouth but you only talk shit every time you open it.” His other hand went up to grab your face in between his long fingers, squishing your cheeks forcing you to pout; his hips rubbed a little harder against your palm. “Let me give your mouth a better use, okay?”

He let go of the hold on your hand against his crotch and used the same hand to unbuckle the belt of his pants that quickly fell to his ankles. Your breath got caught at the prominent bult on his boxers, making you salivate a little. Soobin noticed the look on your eyes because he chuckled darkly, letting you eat him alive with your eyes.

“You’re so quiet now, uh angel?” He mocked, his long fingers tracing down against his own clothed dick, the sight only making you weaker and weaker on the knees. His hold in your face loosened and his hand went up your head, pushing you down to get on your knees in front of him, your pretty, big eyes looking up from underneath him made him want to shove his full length right into your mouth.

And that’s exactly what he did.

You didn’t have time to catch on when he shoved down his boxer and placed the tip of his hard cock against your lips; darting open by surprise, Soobin took the opportunity to thrust his hips against your mouth. A heavy sight scaped his lips as he reached the back of your hot throat that clenched around him; he watched the beautiful scene you made as your eyes filled with tears and some spit trailed down from the corner of your lips.

“So fucking prettier with my cock in your mouth.”

You groaned as he thrusted faster and harder against your mouth, traying to breath from your nose and not to react to those gag reflexes. His big hand grabbed your hair making a sloppy ponytail on his fist and started pushing you up and down his cock. His bottom lip was caught by his teeth as he panted heavily, his dick twitching inside your mouth anytime you’d whine against him.

“Such a little brat taking me so well, oh, fuck, do that again.” Soobin lips darted at the way your tongue danced around his swollen and leaking tip, tasting the pre-cum on your mouth. “Gonna cum and you better swallow every single drop, okay angel?” You hummed at him, the vibrations from your mouth on his dick sending him to heaven as his pace only fastened, his hips uncontrollably thrusting into your mouth and the grip on your hair tightening. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, take it, doll, mmmh- good.”

You mouth filled with the ropes of cum that flew hard against the back of your throat, almost making you choke but you managed to swallow everything, licking clean his dick that sloppily moved inside and outside of your hot and wet mouth.

“Show me.” Soobin said and you obliged, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. He hummed pleased and let go of your hair. He caught the needy look in your eyes, his lips stretching into a cocky smirk as he watched you get up and pressed your tights together. Your tights that were so exposed with that little skirt of yours. “Come here.” Soobin’s arm rounded your waist and pressed you against his body, while his free hand traced down from your hips to your ass, grabbing it hard before it went down even further.

His fingers pressed against the wet, dampened clothe of your panties. He chuckled, his breath hitting your neck as he towered over you and look at the glistening on his fingers.

“My dick got you so wet, uh?” He whispered against your ear, before his plump lips nibbled down at your earlobe, making you flinch. “You were being such an annoying brat just earlier, should I just leave you like this as your punishment?”

“N-No…”

“No what, angel? What do you want me to do, then?” Soobin’s nose trailed up and down your neck, taking in your aroused odor, licking occasionally against your skin. “Use your words.”

You inhaled sharply, feeling the pressure of Soobin’s fingers against your wet folds rubbing up and down at such a slow pace. Your hips moved on their own against his hand trying to get as much friction as you could, making Soobin clicked his tongue at your actions.

“Prez, I- mh-“ the words caught in your mouth as Soobin went further with his big hand, cupping your warm pussy, his middle finger barely caressing your clit over your panties. Soobin hummed in your ear.

“Yeah? I’m listening.”

“Want you to fuck me so bad, prez.”

Soobin smirked and turned you around, walking you to his desk until your legs were pressed against it and you fell over, your legs opening as he positioned himself in between them. His large hands grabbed your tights and pushed up your skirt all the way up, his eyes devouring the sight of the dampness in your panties. His fingers slid down the waistband of your panties and pulled down, throwing them somewhere in the classroom over his shoulder.

You, on the other hand, found yourself staring mesmerized at the boy in front of you. This sight was one you never thought, never in your life it had crossed your mind, that you would be able to witness. Soobin’s plump, bottom lip caught in between his teeth, his frames slid down to the tip of his nose, his wet -always so perfectly styled- hair falling over his eyes; and his eyes, that were glued to your core in unbreakable concentration.

Oh, how bad you wanted to touch him even more.

Your hands moved on their own, grabbing Soobin’s tie and pulling him down towards you, forcing his attention back to you. One of his big hands pressed against the wood of the desk on your back, his face just millimeters from yours. You leaned in trying to push your lips against his, but he quickly moved his head down, to your lap. Your mouth fell open when his lips brushed against your wet folds.

“So, so bad, angel. You really think you’re in control here, uh?” His breath hit against your core, making you shiver underneath him. Oh, how he liked that look on your face. “I was going to fuck you because you asked me so nicely, but now I guess I should do something else…”

His hot tongue pressed flat, immobile, against your pussy; eyes flickering up to you before he started moving his muscle up and down, licking you. You moaned, head falling back, and Soobin like that sound so much that he started moving his head, painfully slowly, reaching every inch of you with his tongue; so much more skilled than you ever thought?

His tongue found your hole and he didn’t hesitate before pushing it in and out, earning more beautiful sounds from you as he only went faster; his hands grabbed hard your hips, keeping you in place against his desk. One of his hands went down, two fingers moving faster against your clit, again and again and again, while his tongue thrusted into you unstoppably.

“Ah, fuck, prez- gonna cum, mmh-“ Soobin pulled away, stopping all of his movements suddenly, making you whine in pain and shut your eyes open at his smirking self.

“You don’t get to cum in my mouth, angel.” he got up, his big hand sliding up and down his throbbing dick before placing his tip against your clit and rubbing against it making you buck up your hips. “So needy for me, I’m gonna fuck your pretty hole numb.”

Air left your system when he pushed his tip into you. Your mouth fell open at the feeling of being so filled up and your head fell back, your eyes reaching the end of your head as a loud moan scaped your lips.

“So fucking tight, angel, oh-fuck.” Soobin hissed as you clenched around him. He didn’t wait until you had got used to his side, instead he started ramping merciless against you gaining more louder noises from you. He licked his lips, focused on the spot where his balls smacked against your skin. “Oh, you’re taking me so good, isn’t this pussy made just for me, uh?”

You whined, barely caughting on any words he said and he noticed that. Groaning, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you up, closer to him before his lips smashed against your, his tongue bullying into your mouth the same way his cock was going in you. A string of spit connected both of your lips when he pulled apart, dark eyes staring into your glossy ones.

“Out already? But I just started.” He laughed at you, only making you clench more around him. Soobin hissed but still managed to smirk at you. “Such a pretty look on your face the fucked out one, angel.”

Soobin grabbed one of your tights and stretch it up, forcing you to turn to a side as he still snapped his hips against yours. The switching position only making him go deeper in you, reaching the sweetest spot.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, prez s’good.” You mumbled, mouth hanging open. Soobin groaned and turned you around, your chest falling against the desk and your hands stretching to grab onto anything. Soobin’s hands gripped your ass hardly, leaving red marks all over your cheeks. He salivated at the sight of your ass bouncing against his hips. “Agh- fuck, Soobin, more-“

Soobin’s eyes rolled to the back of his head hearing his name left your pretty lips. His hands moved you up and down even more rabidly against his hips, the sound of wet skin against wet skin filling the room as well as your uncontrollable moans.

“Say my name, angel, fuck, say it again.”

“S-Soobin, I’m cumming, cumming, cumming, oh- god.”

You snapped, finally reaching your climax. Soobin’s teeth chew harder on his lip as you covered his dick in your hot juices, making everything even sloppier and the sounds nastiest. It didn’t take much more for him to cum inside you as well, his cum mixing with your own, his hips never stopping even thought you had both finished.

Soobin finally pulled off and you were catching your breath, when his big palm pressed against your back and his hot breath hit against your ass. His hands grabbed your ass-cheeks and pulled them apart, exposing the wet disaster on your entrance, juices mixed and dripping onto his desk. He stuck out his tongue and slurped all of it until you were clean, enjoying the tiny whines leaving your lips and the way you tried to squirm away from him.

“So good, angel.” His thump caressed your ass before he finally, very reluctantly, stepped back from you, admiring your exhausted, ruined self over his desk.

Soobin fixed his frames over his nose.

“See you next week.”

Things started to change around school; the mood was livelier, laughter could be heard around, boys made ruckuses on the halls, girls giggled between them, Beomgyu got back the comics the student council had took away from him, gum wasn’t a crime anymore and, if you were lucky, a slightly mistake on the uniform policy was overlooked.

Yeah, things were great.

“Y/n, do you have a moment after class? The student council president wants to have a word with you.” Informed Yeonjun the same day only one week apart.

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ts19009 · 7 months

Text

Seventeen Fic Rec's

(CONTAINS SMUT AND MATURE SUBJECT MATTER)

(Bold title means favorite)

(UPDATED: December 4th, 2023)

OT13

In Pursuit of Wedded Bliss (Updated Masterlist) (A Seventeen Regency!AU Series) @fantasyescapes17

seventeen fic recommendations

Kim Mingyu

In Soft Hands | Part 2 (Mingyu) @beahae (SingleDad!Mingyu x DaycareTeacher!Reader(f))

what’s your number?; kmg @nevernonline (synposis: after finding an online article about the number of sexual partners a woman should have, your day with your neighbor turns into him being lucky number eighteen. paring/s: model! mingyu x afab! reader, ft. little brother! chan.)

again and again ⟢(exes, fake dating, mutual pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut) @lovelyhan

creep (Halloween, ghost!mingyu, serial killer!mingyu, etc…) @smileysuh

Aphrodite (smut, friends to lovers, established relationship, fluff at the beginning) @highvern

Covert Desires (spy!mingyu x assasin!reader (fem!reader themes: spy au, mafia, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, mutual pining, spies, angst, fluff, killing) @etherealyoungk

Slowly; All At Once (fluff, best friends to lovers with Mingyu, boyfriend material!Mingyu, slight angst.) @gyuwoncheol

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1) (brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut) @gyuswhore

His Smile(smut, fluff, slowburn, fake dating!au) @angelwonie

Parties, Yachts and Wishful Thinking (enemies to lovers, reader and Mingyu are rich, Mingyu is kind of an asshole but so is reader, parties, mentions of reader crushing on Wonwoo, drinking, cursing, tennis, yachts and pure filth) @ithinkilikeit-reactions

Other Mingyu recs @novalpha

we don’t usually hold hands (m) || kmg & reader (angst, fluff, smut, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, sort-of-mean!oc, nice guy!mingyu, emotionally constipated!oc honestly) @gyukult

kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity (smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au) @shuaflix

the very first night. (exes to lovers, roommates!au | romance, angst, smut) Link works on pc and through my reblog i think

OVER MY HEAD (brother'sbestfriend!mingyu, fratboy!mingyu, pining, friends to lovers, angst (only a little), reader's a chronic overthinker, slow burn, smut, f reader, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, wonwoo's kinda absent </3, crying (blame mingyu), etc.) @hannieehaee

it’s all fun and games (mingyu x female reader ) @dontflailmenow

Hong Joshua (Jisoo)

Loverboy (regency era romance, historical, drama, slow burn, angst.) @starlightxsvt

cranberry concoctions (bartender!joshua x f!reader) @onlyhuis

Mr (not) so perfectly fine (Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, not super relevant to the plot but, this is a Non-Idol AU, exes to exes with benefits, elements of angst) @hwanghyunjinenthusiast

the devil wears baby blue (mut (minors PLS dni!), strangers to fucking lol) @onlyseokmins

Virgin Killer (cheerleader!reader, nerd!shua, virgin!shua, he’s kinda cold in this but is lowkey still a soft boi, drinking, teasing, jealousy, reader has a little bit of a corruption kink, loss of virginity, oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation) @wonusite

isohel (all time joshua fav) (slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff) @toruro

mr. nice guy (, neighbor!joshua, joshua's muscles deserve their own tag tbh, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption (NOT drunk sex), petnames (sweetheart mostly :pp), biting, spit kink, unedited as alway) @toruro

eyes meeting, hearts apart ⟢ (; bartender!reader, requited unrequited love, immense pining, angst, flowers, slow burn, smut (MINORS DNI)) @lovelyhan

Jeon Wonwoo

Jeon’s Anatomy - Cast (surgeon au) @hansols-yoda-boxers

Blown up love (gaming is all fun and... well, games, until you start crushing on the only person that takes pity on you and saves you from mobs.) @starsstuddedsky

I found love in your smile (doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc) @wonlouvre

wonwoo reading list / fic recs part 3 ! @jeonride

meet cute of the century (meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, discourse abt being an idol as a career, mild angst, smut) @lovelyhan

Licentious (babysitter au, cheating au, smut) @wonusite

to build a home (idol!husband! jeon wonwoo x actress!afab!reader) @tomodachiii

X + Y = YOU AND I ||( jeon wonwoo academic rival!wonwoo x fem!reader) @angelwonie

yoon jeonghan

just one day (fluff // angst // nonidol!au // brother's best friend // fake dating!au // they're idiots lmao // not edited nor proofread so pls bear w me lol // cursing and. two? kissing scenes.) @wonwoonlightligh

to live again (ime travel!au, childhood friends to lovers!au, slow burn, angst, some fluff, some humor) @viastro I WAS CRYING PLS READ

Pathetic Series @leejihoonownsmyhearthoonownsmyheart

Jeonghan’s Guide to Insurance Fraud (And Falling in Love) (fluff, angst, non-idol au, elementary school teacher!jeonghan, f2L, fake relationship) @starsstuddedsky

xu minghao

✧ the letter (slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l) @toruro

✧ flight of the stars (mut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff) @toruro

✧ oh my! @toruro

fixer upper (s2f2l. “beg” minghao. LOTS OF PLOT with eventual smut. slow and i mean SLOW burn. some member slander(affectionate),) @seungkwansphd

Glacial Pace (fake dating au, friends to lovers, fluff, smut) @wonusite

To Keep You Warm @idyllic-ghost

Kwon Soon-young

My Best Friend's Mother (is the One For Me) — ksy (milf chaser!soonyoung, milf!reader) @rubyreduji

driving lessons for dummies (fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au) @shuaflix FAV ATM XD

be sweet (prince!hoshi x princess!reader) @heartkyeom

charity f*ck (virgin guy who lives with his parents!soonyoung, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that format for a lil bit (THIS IS NOT A SOCIAL MEDIA AU), facetime-sex, real life sex) @ncteez

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frenchkisstheabyss · 5 months

Text

୨୧ ʝαɯႦɾҽαƙҽɾ (σɳҽ) ୨୧

୨୧ Pairings: rich boy!seonghwa x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!choi san x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!hongjoong x chubby!fem!reader, mentions of yunho

୨୧ Genre: graduate school au/smut/angst/a lil fluffy

୨୧ Summary: It was never your intention to infiltrate one of the most exclusive social circles at your new university, seducing rich boys to get who and what you want. Wait, no, it was.

୨୧ Word Count: 1.7k-ish

୨୧ Warnings: reader's in her villain era, demon line are wealthy low key villains too, strong language, some dom demon line/sub reader dynamics, you sleep with everyone darling, oral sex (m & f receiving), swallowing, pet names (good girl), obsession, probably a praise kink (who am I kidding? it's for sure a theme), jealousy/light possessiveness, sugar baby origins, unprotected sex, a lil drop of rough sex, marking, fingering, mention of multiple orgasms, public spicy stuff, light choking, scratching, nibbling, dry humping, & that's it, babes.

୨୧ A/N: This baby has sorta just been chilling in the drafts cause I kinda get nervous to post sometimes but I'm gonna let her be free now. This one focuses on Hwa moreso but Joong and San will get their time too. Yunho's also a part of this, just not quite yet. So, yes, I hope you like it!

୨୧ Part Two is Here ୨୧

Observe a weekly study session held by three best friends. It takes place every Sunday, almost ritualistically so, at 3:00pm sharp in the apartment of ringleader Kim Hongjoong. Situated at the top floor of an old university office turned luxury apartment building, it has a vintage charm to it that somehow makes it feel more absurdly expensive than it already is.

Observe that, despite their long held agreement that this is a “study” session, no one’s actually studying. Not Choi San lounging in the brown Italian leather chair, mindlessly chewing on one of the legs of his round rimmed glasses when he should be wearing them instead.

Not Hongjoong painstakingly rearranging the shoes by the door. Seonghwa’s black Dior Oxfords can’t go near Hongjoong’s custom leather Prada sneakers. They are custom after all.

Not Seonghwa who’s leaning by the window doodling on the crisp pages of his $200 copy of the Netter Atlas of Human Anatomy, an act that would be blasphemous to someone like him on any other day.

But no one’s doing anything they’d do on a normal day because this isn’t a normal day. They’re distracted, unable to peel their minds free from the events of last night and it’s all your fault.

Staring down at the space between his legs, San can only think about the fact that you were there. You, the new girl with your pretty face and soft cheeks. Cheeks that were even softer as he gently cupped them, pressing the tip of his cock to the back of your throat.

The way that you whimpered, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth, is etched into his memory. If he could rewind time he’d do it over and over just to hear those same whimpers muffled by his cum filling your cheeks. You swallowed him so well, not spilling a drop.

“Such a good girl” he’d whispered, petting your hair as your head lay in his lap. Such a good, good girl.

By the window, Seonghwa’s still sketching away. The level of intensity and focus on his face does wonders to make it appear as if the motion of his hand has even a shred of intent behind it. None of it means anything, just a half hearted attempt at busying a brain that keeps reminding him how he fucked you against the very window he leans upon. This exact spot actually.

You, with your plush body and sweet voice had begged, as his lips met yours, “Please don’t stop.” It was pure bliss to have your nails digging into his forearms, the walls of your deliciously warm pussy clenching around him.

You were wet enough that your thighs were almost too slippery to grip when he parted them to sink in deeper. No girl has ever been that needy for him before, so desperate to be ruined by him. Fuck, he wants to ruin you.

“I need a drink” Hongjoong huffs, rushing off to the kitchen. Drinking’s never been something he’s just done. He considers self medication through alcohol to be silly but what else is he meant to do? He needs something to overwhelm his palate and kill the nagging craving to taste you on his tongue.

You, with your bright eyes and innocent smile, had hopped your cute ass on the counter and let him drink from your pussy until he saw stars. How adorable you’d been, kicking your feet each time his tongue stimulated your sensitive clit, his fingers teasing your sweet spot. “One more for me” he cooed and you gave him exactly what he wanted. More.

It’s all any of them want now. More, more, more. They made a promise to each other that what happened last night could only ever happen again if you were all together. The four of you. Not three. Certainly not two. The boys would do with you what best friends do with all things, share, but sharing’s much easier said than done when you don’t truly want to.

Seonghwa slams his book shut, snapping back to reality at a speed too dizzying for the others. “I need to go” Seonghwa announces, scrambling to shove his things into his bag. San sits up in the chair, popping his glasses back on.

“Go? Where are you going?”

“I, uh, I have to go look for something. I’ll see you guys later.”

Hongjoong steps back into the living room just in time to hear the door slam as Seonghwa exits. “Where’s he off to?” A question with only one logical answer that pisses San off the second it dawns on him.

“Where do you think?”

The scholarships aren’t nearly enough. They were enough to get you here but being able to stay? That’s a different story. And so you find yourself here on a Sunday evening, picking up hours at the university’s library to make some extra money.

It’s a grueling schedule. Weekdays waitressing at a five star restaurant, weekends at the library, and every waking hour outside of that spent with your face buried in your books. Well, almost every waking hour. Lately you’ve managed to find time for other things.

Wheeling a cart full of books down one of the aisles, you nearly run over some girl’s feet. “Hey, watch it!” she shouts, shooting you a look that says she wants to tear your head off. “I’m really sorry” you apologize, slinking to the side to let her squeeze past.

“These shoes cost more than your rent, you know that?” she spits before storming off in the other direction.

Everyone’s like that here, always throwing their money in your face. Mommy and daddy’s money anyway. You don’t have what they do, it’s like they can smell it on you, and they’ll never let you forget it. “These shoes cost more than your rent, you know that?” you mock, picking up a book to slip onto one of the shelves. “They’re fucking hideous anyway.”

“Uh, hey, everything okay?” a voice asks from behind you. You jump, nearly tripping over one of the cart’s wheels. Seonghwa grabs you by the arm before you lose your footing. Your knight in shining armor. Well, a cardigan really but close enough, right?

“Oh my god, Seonghwa. You can’t sneak up on me like that. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“It’s a library” he laughs, straightening out your shirt, “I thought we were supposed to be quiet.”

“Not that quiet! What are you doing here anyway?”

That came out a bit harsher than you intended. Thankfully Seonghwa finds it cute when you’re sassy. “Yunho told me you work here on weekends and I thought…I wanted to see you.” “See me?” you ask, the book now clutched in your arms like a stuffed animal.

Seonghwa moves between you and the cart, pinning you against one of the shelves. This position feels familiar, a flash of heat rushing over your body and settling between your legs. Seonghwa toys with the hem of your short skirt, his knuckles brushing your exposed thigh.

“Do you like it?”

“Hmm?”

“Working two jobs. Do you like it?”

“Honestly, I hate it.” You draw in a sharp breath when his fingertips touch the marks he left behind on you last night. Sneaking both hands beneath your skirt, he traces your hips, relishing in the fullness of them.

Your thighs part and he carefully eases his knee between them, the moist cotton of your panties all that separates your aching core from his slacks. Seonghwa leans in to nibble at your bottom lip, “Then quit.” “Hwa, you know I can’t, ah…” you squeak, the book tumbling to the ground as he slowly grinds you along his leg.

He kisses you tenderly, angling you forward to stimulate your clit in just the right way. Seonghwa can already feel you soaking through his pants. You get wet so easily for him and it eats away at his self control. “Quit” he repeats, “I can get you a job at one of my father’s offices. His secretaries there don’t really do anything. You can kind of just sit there and be pretty. I know you can do that.”

Letting go of your waist, he pulls back enough to watch how perfectly your tits sit as you ride his thigh. “Look at you, doing so well already.”

The quiet one. That’s how Yunho described Seonghwa before you met him. He’s quiet but no more innocent than the others are. Never let that innocent exterior fool you, he has a switch and when it flips he’s someone you won’t even recognize.

That switch, you can see it flipping on and off. His eyes bright with admiration one second and darkening with lust the next. There’s something dangerous about him but you aren’t exactly harmless now, are you?

“You’d do that for me?” you ask, taking his hand and pressing it to your cheek. You nuzzle into his palm, taking his thumb between your lips. “Of course I would. I’d…” he loses his train of thought as you start sucking his thumb, the rhythm of your hips picking up speed.

“Anything you want.”

You can feel his pulse quickening. See his face taking on a pink hue. Your breathing grows shallow, the tension building in your core making your body shudder. “So close” you whine, running his hand down to your neck, “I want you to make me cum.”

Anything you want. Anything for you. Seonghwa holds you by the neck, his other hand slipping into your panties. “Cum for me then like a good girl. Like my good girl.”

There’s a chance someone could hear you. Between the splashing of his fingers in your juices and the moans that spill out from your lips onto his, there’s more than enough noise to draw a little attention. That’s what makes it hotter. What has his cock straining against his pants and your eyes glossing over as the tension finally snaps.

Ruin you, that’s what he wanted to do, and look at you now, coming undone so wonderfully. How can he be anything short of obsessed with you?

“So gorgeous when you’re falling apart.”

“Only when I’m falling apart?” you ask, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder. Seonghwa wraps an arm around your waist, kissing you on the forehead.

“No,” he sighs, “And I think that might be the death of me.”

#ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez x female reader #ateez smut #ateez au #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x reader #choi san x you #choi san x reader #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #choi san smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 31

part 1 | part 30 | ao3

updating the rating to E. cw: recreational drug use/marijuana, foreplay, mild-to-moderate spit kink

“I feel like a water bottle,” Steve slurs. At some point he wiggled his way between Eddie’s legs to get a better look at his tattoos — starting at his ankles and working his way up, pointing at each piece and asking, "What's this? And what's that?"

Eddie explained each one in turn: the quotes, the lyrics, the silly art. "This one's the Elvish word for friend. That one's from an Iron Maiden song. Oh, the asterisk? It's supposed to be an asshole. No, I'm serious! That's how Vonnegut drew them in his books."

Now Steve’s lying flat on his back between Eddie’s splayed thighs, eyelids heavy, body warm. 'Go Your Own Way' plays softly on the stereo, and Eddie continues his tattoo tour, the fingers of his free hand weaving patterns through Steve's hair — lazy, twirling zig-zags that send skitters of sensation across his scalp and down his spine.

Steve feels like he could die right now. Happy. Held. Content.

Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

“This is fucking awesome,” he hums.

“Good,” Eddie grins at him, “I’m glad.” He scratches lightly at his scalp. “What were you, uh— what were you saying about a water bottle?”

Oh, right. Steve lifts a hand; pantomimes tilting a bottle back and forth. “Like, uh….. Sssloshy.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie snorts. “You’re so high.”

“Mmmmhm.”

“And you look like you’re jerking off a ghost."

“I’ll jerk off your ghost,” Steve mutters petulantly.

"I’m sure my ghost would love that.”

Eddie reaches for the joint and takes another drag, and Steve tilts his neck, arching up to look at him. Bites his lip at the pretty picture Eddie makes: the sharp shadows and delicate lines, the shape of his full lips exhaling rings of smoke. Big for a guy's. He remembers thinking that a couple weeks ago. That they were big. That they looked soft.

And now he thinks: Kissable.

Steve licks his lips. “What about your, uh- not ghost?”

Eddie laughs like he’s watching a newborn puppy try to walk. “You want to touch my dick so bad.”

“S’probably a good dick,” Steve shrugs, unashamed.

He probably should be — ashamed. Guilty for the feelings stirring deep inside his chest; feelings weed brings to the surface, sends southbound, turns to need. He can imagine how the good, god-fearing Catholics who raised him would react if they could see him now, how they'd foam and froth and rage, red-faced and covered in spittle as they shouted that he's condemning himself to Hell.

But the thing is, he's already in Hell. He's been here since July.

And anyway, Hell's kinda nice. Gentle and warm, surprisingly kind. Hell smells like leather and tobacco, like weed and aftershave, and it sounds like Lindsey Buckingham, and it likes to braid Steve's hair.

Hell has endless, inky eyes and probably kisses him with tongue.

Heat spreads through him like molten honey at the thought, spilling hot over the edges, curling in his core, and Steve turns his head to the side and drags his mouth over a tattoo on Eddie’s inner thigh — a cartoon cloud over a curled-up snoozing fox. He noses at the edge of Eddie's shorts; pushes them up.

Goosebumps pebble under the warm press of his lips. "What's this one?" Steve whispers, nudging the fabric further up.

Eddie’s laugh is quiet and strained. "Something I don't want to discuss with your mouth this close to my dick. Stevie," he warns, but it's breathless, full of want. There's a wet spot on his shorts.

Steve pushes onto his belly, blows hot breath over the spot, liquid fire coursing through him at he stares at the bulge in Eddie’s shorts. Blistering heat, the sweetness dense, rich and thick on his tongue; in his veins. He mouths at the crease of Eddie's thigh. Eddie smells so good, like skin and sweat and boy, and Steve wants this. Wants it so badly he feels the ache inside his teeth. I dreamed the goddess poured ambrosia...

Steve feels it drip from head to toe.

"Steve." Eddie's voice is sharp this time, commanding and firm as he fists a hand in Steve's hair — not hurting him; not letting him move. Keeping him from putting his mouth just where he wants.

Steve makes a desperate sound and rocks his hips against the bed.

"Steve, stop," Eddie scolds. Pulls his hair a little harder, like he’s tugging on a leash.

"Eddie, please.” Steve’s eyes roll back, and he shifts his hips again. Just once; just a bit. Not nearly hard enough.

"No. Behave. Be good."

Steve freezes — tenses every muscle, holds himself so still, his face flushing with shame, because he didn’t mean to not be good. Didn’t mean to do anything bad. He blinks at Eddie with watery eyes and says he’s sorry, his voice cracking around the word.

"God," Eddie groans. His fist tightens in Steve’s hair, and his hips twitch off the bed, the curve of his cock brushing the tip of Steve's nose. Fuck. "Holy shit. Roll over."

"What?"

"On your back, like you were before." He’s panting when he says it, and Steve does as he's told; flips over onto his back, face bracketed by Eddie's thighs, the tent in his own shorts embarrassingly big. Obvious.

"Good,” Eddie exhales. “That’s- Jesus. Yeah, that’s good." He sinks back against the wall with a winded sigh.

And then he doesn't say anything else.

Doesn’t even move, just slouches down to catch his breath.

Steve kind of wants to cry; feels chastised and stupid, because of course Eddie doesn't want this. He already said he didn't, didn't he? Not tonight, anyway. And now Steve’s ruined things by being high and dumb and selfish, getting himself worked up over nothing and making it Eddie’s problem, and he'll probably spend the rest of this night miserable and blue-balled because he's a horny idiot, but that's—

It’s fine, if Eddie wants to cool things off; if he doesn't want to— he's allowed to not want—

"Here's what's about to happen.”

Steve snaps his head up to listen. Twists his neck around, sees Eddie lounging against the wall like a bored king on a throne, one ringed hand cupping himself loosely through his shorts. He squeezes once, takes another deep breath; lets it out long and controlled. Steve’s gonna fucking drool. "You’re gonna touch yourself for me.”

Steve moans. Guttural and loud, the sound punched out of his lungs, because Eddie’s voice comes out like gravel — husky, deep, the words authoritative and slow; like Steve needs to be punished; like Eddie’s merciful.

“You’re going to touch yourself exactly how I tell you to, and only how I tell you to. If I say stop, you stop. If I say faster, you speed up. If it's too much—" His hand moves to Steve’s cheek, slapping lightly against the bone. “—you tap out, or you tell me.”

Steve nods his head, entranced. Eddie’s thumb moves to his mouth. “And if you’re very, very good…” He tugs his bottom lip; presses in; lets him suck. “…then I’ll let you watch me come. How does that sound?”

Steve whines; hollows his cheeks, sucking harder, flicking his tongue. Eddie’s thighs clamp down around him, and when he pulls his hand away the spit clings to his thumb, a delicate string connecting them before it breaks. “Asked you a question, sweetheart.” He smears the spit over Steve’s chin. “Does that sound good?”

Steve nearly swallows his tongue.

—

part 32

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #rated e #my writing #my fic

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koqabear · 6 months

Text

Like Cat and Mouse!

☆ Playlist! ☆

"You seemed to have garnered quite the reputation for you on campus— one that had the word “trouble” following you like a shadow. But when you give Beomgyu an offer he couldn’t possibly turn down in exchange for helping you get your grades back up, how could he refuse? You can’t possibly be that hard to handle, right?"

Beomgyu x fem!reader, ft. Hueningkai

Genre: college au, slowburn (kinda..?), tutor!gyu x rich girl!mc, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 37.1K

Warnings: mc is a bitch, and maybe a bimbo? gyu wears glasses, and he’s like super super shy, mc gets sick for a scene, she rambles but its part of her character ok!, toxic relationships, pining/unrequited love, Yunjin is so fake here im sorry Yunjin, mentions of alcohol/drinking, the puppy gyu agenda is fucking strong here !!!

Smut warnings: multiple smut scenes first of all, fwb!huening, dom!hyuka, switch!mc, sub!gyu, (the worst case of sub gyu yet), virgin!gyu, breast play, dry humping, biting, pet names (f rec: princess, m rec: puppy, good boy, baby, slut, etc.) mentions of bondage (f. rec.), spanking (f. rec.), degrading, praise, praise kink, finger sucking, oral (f. & m rec.), handjobs, mouth fucking, cum eating (?), explicit, verbal consent is not stated in two scenes but both parties are willing! Semi-public sex, overstimulation, slight thigh riding, marking, hair pulling (m. rec. lol), begging, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, cockwarming

notes: i don't even know what to say... there's really no reason for this to be so long, how did we get here. i hide my face in shame.

It all starts as an accident— a very inconvenient accident.

Really, it wasn’t your fault; how were you supposed to keep up with these endless assignments that only seemed to get worse as time went on? You had better things to do with your life— studying is way too much of a headache for you these days.

Instead, your days have been filled along the lines of parties and trips your friends hold, gaining connections with people that always help things go next level; Empty vacation homes, yachts, even a private jet once— you were lucky enough to land a friendship with these type of people, the thought of taking things slow and worrying more about your education not crossing your mind anymore once you got a taste of the fast life.

Which is exactly how you got where you are now.

“There goes your man,” Yunjin’s elbow is sharp against your side as she whispers teasingly, the jab only making your frown deepen as you weakly attempt to shake her off.

“Shut up.” That’s all you can manage as you go to lay your head down on the dining hall table, your appetite long gone as your head swims and your stomach twists with nausea; her single jab is enough to remind your body of its terrible shape, your eyes shutting tightly as you fight through the urge to hurl then and there.

You’re not even sure of what she might mean— you don’t remember telling her about any recent hookups— hell, you don’t even remember gawking at anyone in your vicinity; so for her to be teasing you about this “man” of yours was strange, a pout forming on your lips as you try to focus on the cool feeling of the wood beneath your skin.

“I gotta go,” Yunjin says abruptly, your eyes opening to send her a confused look. All she can do is give you an eager smile, patting your head as she grabs her now empty coffee cup from the table. “Your man is coming this way.”

Before you can ask her what man she could possibly be talking about, she’s off, not bothering to look back as she sends you a little wave over her shoulder, perfectly manicured nails glittering under the sunlight that shines through the windows.

The seat in front of yours is quickly filled.

“You weren’t at our study session yesterday.”

Jesus.

There’s not much you can say to that, clearly guilty as you choose to press your forehead against the cool table in response. Maybe, if you close your eyes, he’ll disappear— if only it were that easy. But instead, you’re stuck with Choi Beomgyu and the warm scent of coffee that follows him— god knows how many cups he drank as a substitution for sleep. Your lashes flutter against the table as you attempt to drown out his whines, surprised that he hasn't taken your unresponsiveness as a hint to go away.

“Have you ever gone to Paris?” You ask, the sentence flying from your mouth and interrupting his rambles. It’s enough to shut him up, sitting up as you plant your hands firmly on the table in a weak attempt to not lay your head back down.

“No, I haven’t.”

His response is typical— you didn’t care whether or not he would say yes, leaning into the table as you stare into his eyes; it’s clear he’s flustered by the action, leaning back in reciprocation as his pupils land everywhere but on you.

“If you had the chance to go to Paris right now, would you?” It takes a moment before Beomgyu nods his head hesitantly, mouth opening as he prepares a new line of questioning for you. But you’re quick to cut him off again, clapping your hands in satisfaction as you stand up— his eyes follow your every movement, face resembling a lost puppy as he watches the way you get ready to leave.

“Exactly; Paris really is beautiful by the way, definitely recommend going. So you can’t blame me for ditching our study session yesterday, can you?” Tilting your head, you watch the puzzles connect in his mind. “We can always make it up or whatever, not that big of a deal.”

Turning around, you don’t bother saying goodbye to Beomgyu; your only thoughts center on your beautiful, comfy bed and how you’ll spend the rest of your day in it. You can hear him calling out to you, the sound of a chair scraping against tile catching your attention as you force yourself to walk faster.

“We have class in fifteen minutes— where are you going?!”

He’s gaining up on you. You don’t care if you have to sprint out of the building, but the last thing you’ll do is get stuck in another of Beomgyu’s self-righteous rambles as you curse wildly under your breath.

“Home— I’m sick!”

Carelessly, the exit door is slammed on Beomgyu’s face— by accident, of course. Glancing back, you’re able to catch a glimpse of his pathetic puppy face, clearly discouraged from trying to continue chasing after you.

Normally, one would be compelled to feel guilty— but the day is simply too nice, the weather so perfect as a spring wind brushes past your skin; the sun that slightly worsens your headache truly doesn’t seem that bad anymore.

A perfect day to drive around and shop, in your humble opinion.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

This new purse would be divine in your collection.

The luxury bag in your hands is sleek and smooth as your fingertips glaze over the details, entranced by its chic beauty as you let your thoughts wander— formal events, birthday dinners, oh, the places you could take it…

The price tag is no joke— it has you counting numbers in your head, pondering just how much of your monthly allowance you have left; if you buy it now, you’ll have to say goodbye to the girls’ trip at Yunjin’s beach house in Cancun…

Treat yourself, a tiny voice whispers in your mind, you can always beg your parents for more money.

The devil on your shoulder is compelling— it warps your vision, a pout forming on your face as it practically forces your eyes to see the item in a heavenly light; the last item in that specific collection, and it’s right at your disposal, only a card swipe away…

“Pretty bag,” your little devil hums, “It would look nice with that little black dress you’re always looking for an excuse to wear.”

His hand is delicate and teasing on your shoulder, his hold on you tight as he pulls you into him protectively. You’re not as surprised as you should be as you look up at Hueningkai, pouting face innocently looking up at him as you shake your head in distress.

“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to go with Yunjin to Cancun during spring break,” you whine, petulant as always as you refuse his reasoning— yet also refuse to let go of the bag and walk away.

Anyone who knows you knows how you get about accessories— how obsessive you become with collecting them, your closet always filled to the brim as your need to buy becomes a borderline addiction.

Maybe that’s why Hueningkai finds your dilemma so amusing, deft fingers snatching the purse from your hands and walking away wordlessly, leaving you to trot behind him as you continue to rant and stall, lingering by his side as a new item catches your eye; you inspect it curiously while the words uncontrollably fly out of your mouth.

“I mean it’s not like I don’t have enough money, cause I could always ask my parents for more— and they’d gladly give it to me— but I always feel so horrible to ask for more, especially now that I’m supposed to be getting more independent, even though they always talk about spoiling me because I’m their only daughter, but still, I really want it but if I buy it I’ll have to ask them for more money, and it’s not even a big deal but it feels—“

“Oh my god, okay!” It seems you were too distracted by the tweed Chanel bag in your hands to anticipate the shopping bag that Hueningkai thrusts into your hands, exasperated at your ramblings as he swiftly manages to shut you up.

You’re left speechless, sorting through the filling paper dumbly as you’re greeted with the same bag that Hueningkai snatched from you— your sparkly eyes look up at him in awe, unsure of what to say as he simply smiles at your reaction.

“Huening…” you pout, clutching the bag to your chest with one hand as you slap his chest with the other— his very firm, strong chest… “you shouldn’t have.”

He’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you into him and guiding you out of the store as he leans into you; you can smell his cologne so perfectly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers softly into it.

“It’s okay,” he smiles, endeared by the way your eyes shine with anticipation to his words, “I know of a few ways you can make it up to me.”

There’s no need to call your driver— Hueningkai knows the way to your apartment like the back of his hand, one relaxed at the steering wheel while the other plays with the hem of those skirts you always like to wear.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“You’re such a tease,” Hueningkai’s lips are plump and bitten at as you smile against them, his hands never straying from your ass as he grasps at it, enjoying the way you grind against him expertly.

“Just wanna make you feel good,” you pant, the warm feeling of his hands on your tight-clad thighs making you whine, your pussy slotted perfectly against him as you feel the way he grows harder underneath you.

“You’re always so good to me…” you trail off the moment his lips begin to wander down your neck, attempting to pull off your thin sweater as his hands immediately find themselves on your breasts. He can only let out a breathy laugh at your words, his teeth sinking in the plump flesh softly before his fingers are working your bra off.

“Always buying you your favorite things?” He rasps, groaning softly at the sight of your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as he looks up at you teasingly, “my princess will do anything for a pretty purse, hmm?”

Frantically, you nod, his hips bucking into you as you feel the way his cock presses against you effortlessly; he’s as eager as you are, warm tongue on your skin making your thoughts run wild as you imagine what it would feel like to have him pressed against your cunt, helpless to your needs as your fingers card through his hair.

“Come on pretty girl, show me how grateful you are,” your thoughts are immediately dispelled as Hueningkai pushes you off, a gentle hand pushing away your hair before he’s guiding you down to your knees; his favorite sight, your doe eyes fluttering at him innocently as your hands make quick work of his belt. He can’t help but groan at the sight before him, lip caught in his teeth as he silently wishes for you to hurry.

Hueningkai takes the belt from your hands, placing it to the side as he smiles down at you coyly— you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation, your mind going back to the many memories of your face pressed into the mattress as your bound hands desperately begged to touch him. Your fingers are delicate as they pull down his zipper— he’s become impatient, lips parting as he gets ready to make a witty comment.

His thoughts are interrupted by a persistent ringing of your doorbell.

He’s devastated as he flops back into your mattress— a loud groan escapes him, brows furrowing as he grows irritated at the ringing that echoes throughout your apartment.

“Jesus, what the fuck is their problem?” He complains, running a hand through his hair before he sits back up; he’s smiling fondly at you as he caresses your cheek, sighing softly as he nods his head towards the door, “go see who it is, won’t you princess? Make it quick.”

The look that you two share is nothing but mischievous, his lips connecting with yours in a chaste kiss as he helps you up; he’s tugging your sweater roughly over your chest, straightening your skirt before he’s sending you off— not without one last feel of you, the stinging sensation that lingers on your ass making you yelp as you send him a playful glare— he can only send you a sly look in return.

This better be important, you can’t help but think, sighing heavily as another three persistent rings of your doorbell echo throughout— you groan, rolling your eyes as you swing the door open wildly.

You can’t say you’re surprised as Beomgyu stares back at you in shock, his wide eyes blinking rapidly as he takes you in.

“What.” Your tone is unwelcoming as you lean against your doorframe, arms crossing to cover your chest as you raise a brow at him in anticipation— he stutters uselessly, pushing up his glasses as his eyes fly about your apartment wildly— refusing to look at you for more than a second.

“You didn’t answer my messages,” or calls, he whispers weakly, tugging at the hem of his sweater as he stares down at his dirtied shoes, his other arm hidden behind his back. He clears his throat, gulping as he looks into your eyes, pushing past the annoyed look that greets him as he continues, “You didn’t look well this morning, so I wanted to check up on you.”

You’re not sure what to say as Beomgyu whips out what was hidden behind his back—you’re leaning back as you stare at the cute, floral lunch bag that Beomgyu thrusts into your face, hesitantly taking it as you look back at Beomgyu in confusion; it feels warm in your arms.

“It’s soup.” He says, his ears reddening as he takes in the bewildered way you’re staring at him, “It’s my mom's recipe, it’s— it’s really good.”

“Yeah? We’ll be the judge of that,” Hueningkai has snuck up behind you as he wraps an arm around your waist, effectively pushing you back against him— you can feel how hard he is against the swell of your ass, eyes widening as you get what he’s hinting at, impatient fingers digging into your skin softly.

Beomgyu seems just as surprised as you are at Hueningkai’s appearance, if not more. It becomes your turn to become embarrassed as you look over your shoulder to meet Hueningkai’s smug smile, his eyes glistening with curiosity as he looks back at Beomgyu, tilting his head as he frowns.

“Who are you anyway?”

Beomgyu seems quite offended by his statement, looking at you in shock. You’re scrambling to cut Hueningkai off, letting out a soft laugh as you place a firm hand on his chest— the last thing you need is for Hueningkai to drive away one of the few people that would be willing to tutor you.

“He’s just helping me out in some classes, that’s all,” you say, placing the lunch bag in his hands before you’re shooing him away, “Put this on the kitchen counter— I’ll see you in a bit.”

Beomgyu doesn’t miss the look the two of you share— if anything, it makes his stomach twist in embarrassment, wanting to do nothing more than turn around and pretend as though he hadn’t interrupted you while you were— whatever it was. Hueningkai is cheery as he walks back into your apartment, not bothering to spare Beomgyu another glance as he disappears from your sight; your clearing throat is what gets Beomgyu’s mind back on track.

“Right. Well,” you say, smiling awkwardly as you reach out for the door, “I’m feeling better. Thanks though!”

Beomgyu is unable to get out another word as you’re closing the door on him, sneaking in a last comment as you cheerily yell “tell your mom I said thank you!” Uncaring of his reaction as the door shuts in his face; he suddenly thinks back to this morning, shuddering at the memory of him having to walk back to the other exit of the dining hall, towards the building his classes were in— your shared class, specifically— forced to ignore the strange looks everyone gave him as he stared straight at the ground.

“Isn’t he younger than us? Why was he talking to me like that,” he quietly pouts, his protests left unheard as he’s forced to walk back home, eyes glued to the sidewalk in dismay— the feeling is dreadfully familiar.

“Well that’s sad,” Hueningkai remarks, peeking through your blinds as he watches Beomgyu’s figure grow smaller, “Are you actually gonna eat that?”

His eyes flick back to the lunch bag that sits innocently at your counter—you simply shrug, feeling oddly protective of the item as you tuck it behind you, leaning against the counter as you sigh softly.

“His mom made it, I’d feel bad if I didn’t,” you say, biting at your lips as you watch the way Hueningkai laughs in disbelief. You feel a bit bad as you think back to the way you turned him away, his expression pitiful and sad as you slammed the door on his face for the second time today. Yet you don’t get much time to think about it as Hueningkai begins to approach you, hands effortlessly finding themselves on your waist as your head tilts to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss.

“Can’t believe he interrupted us for so long,” you feel him smile against your lips as he presses you back against the counter, ready to hike your skirt up as his other hand is eagerly wrapping your leg around his waist, “will you make it up to me?”

Beomgyu disappears from your mind like smoke— the smile against your lips is contagious, your hand gently pressing against his chest as you roll your hips teasingly into his, a broken moan falling from both your lips.

“Of course.“

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The rest of the day is quite underwhelming.

You’ve been left with a good fuck and a nice purse, but as you lay in your bed, you can’t help but notice the way your headache never really left— it’s been nothing but a dull ache until now, the pain persistent and growing as you sigh in exasperation; none of your usual remedies have worked for you so far.

Your body feels hot and weak, yet you’re left shivering as the blankets keep endlessly stacking on top of you. Not even your weighted blanket can lull you to sleep, your figure restless as you toss and turn in your bed, your phone buried in your puzzle of fabric. You’re in nothing but pain— you hate feeling like this, and the sudden grumbling of your stomach truly isn’t helping either.

Left with no other options, you trudge to the kitchen, opening your fridge as you mentally brace yourself— it’s been a while since you’ve shopped for groceries; there’s not much in there that you could eat quickly, and you can’t find any energy within you to cook.

The cool fridge door is welcoming against your skin— yet it’s also bothersome as you begin to shiver at the cold, closing the fridge quickly as you frown to yourself; whatever your body has come down with, it sure is annoying. Taking a moment to think, you suddenly find your eyes gravitating to a certain item; ergo, the floral lunch bag that remains untouched on your counter.

It hasn’t been that long— an hour or two, at most. Whatever Beomgyu gave you couldn’t have spoiled by now, right?

It’s soup, you recall him saying, biting your lip as you take the lunch bag to your small table, my mom's recipe.

Unpacking the contents, you hum in surprise— yeah, this looks like a mothers cooking. The Tupperware he’s provided you with is filled to the brim with a nice broth that is still warm to the touch, a side of rice and vegetables also packed inside for you; you’re unable to stop a small awe from escaping you as you take out a small container of tea that has been stored inside for you as well, surprised at how much Beomgyu’s mother packed for you.

Does she think we’re friends? Is this her way of making me stick with him? You wonder, biting at your lip as you hold back a laugh at the thought— a poor momma’s boy, struggling to make friends as his mother attempts to subtly help him.

It’s no secret that Beomgyu was a bit of a loner— that’s why you reached out to him in the first place. You knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse you, because he couldn’t even give you the excuse that he had no time; that, and the hefty sum you gave him in exchange for tutoring someone as difficult as you.

To a degree, you were self-aware— but it only came after the fifth person rejected your offer, saying that you probably wouldn’t even commit once you started. No matter how pissed you were when you were first told that, you were unable to disagree; unfortunately, it also sparked a deep spiraling of self-reflection as your new self-awareness brought you to Beomgyu; by then you were so desperate and ashamed that Beomgyu probably only accepted because he felt bad.

Tutoring with Beomgyu had its benefits; he was nice, and quite the pushover as well. He never protested too much when you canceled on him, and the most you ever got from being annoying was a long scolding or an exasperated sigh from him— plus, now it seems that free food has been thrown into the mix.

Settling down at the table, you found yourself oddly restless as you went to fetch a small blanket from your bed— it was only then that you were able to find your phone, gasping as it landed roughly on the floor. Going back to the kitchen, you were now able to make yourself comfortable, sitting at your table as you took off the lids of everything that was packed for you— even the tea was still nice and warm in its thermos, everything packed with such care and attention to detail that you couldn’t help but take a picture of it.

It was delicious as well; the soup was comforting and not too overwhelming on your senses as you mixed in bites of the white rice, fluffy and cooked to perfection as you melted in your seat with every spoonful. The vegetables were steamed and well seasoned; you practically squealed from happiness as you ate, not used to having such a big meal cooked by someone else these days.

It filled you up quickly— the ginger tea was soothing against your throat, the taste of honey and lime mixed in leaving you warm and fuzzy as you tiredly trudged to bed; you’d have to beg Beomgyu to invite you to his mother’s house later.

Maybe it did work, you briefly think to yourself, your mind quickly emptying as you make yourself comfortable in your bed, that only made me want to talk to Beomgyu more— maybe it wouldn’t be too bad being his friend.

A soft laugh escapes you at the thought— your eyelids feel heavy as you struggle to stay awake, eager to sleep through this brief sickness that threatens to overtake you. After this, you’re sure it’ll be an easy recovery.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You think you’re dying.

You’re hot and sweaty as you kick away your blankets for the umpteenth time, irritated as your body quickly begins to shiver instead. You’re only able to sleep for a few hours at a time, on the verge of tears as the clock on your bedside table reads nine pm— you’re unsure of what to do, already taking medication a few hours ago that seemed to do nothing. Your body is burning up as you toss and turn a bit more, dreading the new train of thought that enters your mind.

Maybe you should call someone.

Maybe they’ll know what to do, you think, holding back nausea that threatens to knock you out as you slowly sit up; scrolling through your contacts, you hesitantly press call to the first person you could think of.

It rings once— then again, then a few times more before it goes straight to voicemail.

“Hey, you’ve reached Yunjin’s voicemail. Please leave a messa—“ you sigh as you hang up, attempting to call a few times more before you give up entirely.

She’s probably at a party. Or with some boy.

Scrolling through your contacts, you choose your next person carefully— you’re sure they’re not busy right now, they’ve never been one to go to parties as often—

Ning Ning’s phone goes straight to voicemail as well.

Groaning, you lay back as you feel your head pounding, your mind racing as you attempt to go through a mental checklist of who you could call— but all you can conclude is that they’re busy, wouldn’t want to help, or you’re simply not that close to them.

“What the hell,” you mumble, pressing your face against your pillow as you sniffle softly— your headache has become unbearable, and you’ve always been a big crybaby whenever you got sick.

“Do I not have any friends?” You ponder, your stomach sinking at the thought— there’s no way! If anything, your phone was always on silent from the number of notifications you got in a day; you always knew at least ten people when you walked in a room, the elite definition of a social butterfly— the last thing you would consider yourself is friendless.

Maybe it’s just an unlucky time, you think, playing Russian roulette with your contacts as your finger presses on a random one; Hueningkai <;3 glares back at you in bright letters, your eyes narrowing as you consider calling— he’s always been one to spoil you, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched for him to help you this once, right?

You’re nervous as the phone rings out into your room, your fingers tapping on your bed impatiently as you wait for him to pick up— just when you think he won’t, his voice greets your ears like a miracle.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” His voice is a bit rough as he speaks, his speech slow and relaxed as your eyes narrow at the sound; he’s probably high again.

“Hueningkai,” you cry out softly, unable to help the way you become emotional in your state— your voice is muffled, your face buried in your pillow as the pain becomes far too overwhelming.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice has become more alert at the sound of your sniffling, the sounds of rustling from his side making you wince, your hand going to lower the volume of your phone.

“Dunno. I’m sick,” you say, flipping over onto your back as you stare up at the ceiling— you feel tired, yet you’re unable to get comfortable enough to sleep. You hear more rustling on the other side of the phone— Hueningkai sighs, mumbling something to himself before he clears his throat.

“Why don’t you go to the doctor, hmm?” You frown at his words, shaking your head at the thought— you weren’t really expecting this outcome.

“I— I can’t really get up, I feel dizzy…” you confess sheepishly, the realization that you truly don’t have enough energy to even stand for too long weighing down on you, “I was wondering if you could come over?”

“Come over?” Hueningkai echoes, humming softly at the thought— it’s silent, the tension leaving you biting at your lips as you wait for him to respond.

“Listen, uhm,” you sigh softly at his words, closing your eyes as you attempt to ignore the way your stomach dips with disappointment, “I’m kinda busy right now. But if you want, you can call me tomorrow and I can take you to the doctor, ‘kay?”

Attempting to swallow down your disappointment, you nod, a moment of silence passing before you realize that he can’t even see you.

“Yeah. Okay.” There’s a lump in your throat as you speak, and you can’t help but feel the way your body heats up as the line falls silent; from embarrassment, this time. It’s awkward, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Hueningkai mumbles a soft “okay then. Goodnight,” the sound of him hanging up the last thing you hear before you’re shrouded in complete silence, the darkness of your room threatening to swallow you whole.

The sound of your stomach growling angrily is the only thing that breaks the silence.

A frustrated groan tears through you— you’re oddly emotional as you force yourself to sit up, pausing as you attempt to maintain balance; your head is spinning, and you’re beginning to realize how long it’s been since you last ate. The floor is cold under your feet as you trudge to the kitchen; you can’t bring yourself to turn on the lights, your slippers lost somewhere in your room as you feel a shiver wrack through your body.

What will you do? Your fridge is practically empty and takeout doesn’t sound too appealing to you; you can feel tears well up in your eyes once more, a pout forming on your face as you slump down on a chair in defeat. Sighing, you think back to earlier— the homemade food Beomgyu brought to you, so soothing and filling it almost reminded you of the meals your cook back at home would make for you— maybe you could call your driver to take you home for a bit.

It’s hours away and he’s probably off right now, you frown, checking the time on your phone just in case— 9:45— yeah, he’s definitely home by now. Of course, nothing is stopping you from calling him and telling him it’s an emergency, but then you’d feel far too guilty about ripping him away from his family just for you.

He spends enough time at our home as it is, you think, placing your phone on the table as you go to massage your temples weakly. You need to eat something— maybe you’ll get some energy from it. But, picky as always, you can’t seem to find anything that sounds appealing to you; even the restaurant you frequently eat at doesn't seem to be doing anything for you, your mind inevitably going back to the one thing you were avoiding.

Hesitantly, you pick up your phone— you can’t believe you’re actually going to try this, you think, biting at your lip before you finally press call; then again, this isn’t entirely out of character for you.

A lonely college student that doesn’t have many friends— if anything, he’s probably up studying right now, you think, frowning as you press your phone firmly to your ear, and if he was willing to check up on me, he should be willing to do this small thing for me too.

“Hello?” The relief that floods through you is surprising; you’re becoming lax against your seat as the sound of Beomgyu’s uncertain voice meets your ears— his voice is gruff and soft as he speaks, unsure of whether or not you called him on purpose.

“Choi Beomgyu,” you whine, already feeling yourself becoming unnecessarily emotional as you allow yourself to rant to him, “I’m sick. Can you do me a small favor?”

On his end, Beomgyu is oddly surprised— why would you go to him of all people? He’s a bit weary as he listens to you carefully, thinking back to the way you were able to shut him out effortlessly; if anything, he must’ve been your last resort.

“What is it?”

You’re unable to hold back the sigh of relief that escapes you— a smile graces your lips, and for the first time during this miserable experience, you don’t feel helpless.

“Okay, hear me out please,” you start, sitting up as you clear your throat; unbeknownst to Beomgyu, you’re about to begin one of your infamous ramblings.

“I know you might be busy studying or whatever, but I promise I’ll be quick. So, you remember the food you gave me earlier? I actually ate it, and it was really good! Your mom is a good cook, but then again, I’m pretty sure all moms are pretty good cooks. But like, I’m gonna be honest with you, I forgot to get groceries earlier this week, so I don’t really have much to eat— I could go order takeout or something but the thought of eating something greasy right now makes me wanna puke. I was thinking that since you probably don’t go out that much your mom might have given you extra servings of that soup, and I know it sounds really entitled and a bit bitchy but do you think you could please please please drop some off?

“I promise I’ll pay you whatever and you seriously only need to drop it off at my door, it’s just that her cooking was really good and I almost started crying when I ate it— I get really emotional when I’m sick so I also think it’d be best for you to leave as quickly as you can; please please please please I promise I won’t ditch our study sessions for a good week at least, I’ll be good and study! I just think I’m gonna pass out right now and your mom’s food is the only thing I can think of right now… please?”

You feel out of breath as you finally finish your seemingly endless ramble— on the other side of the line, Beomgyu lets out an exasperated laugh.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be there.” You’re not sure when you began to get emotional over nothing, but you’re surprised to feel hot tears streaming down your face at Beomgyu’s words, a few hiccups escaping you as you let out a soft really? “Yeah, I’ll just leave it at your doorstep.”

Standing up, you stumble a bit as you wipe your tears away. If you hadn’t scared Beomgyu away before, you surely did now.

“Drop it off inside. My door’s gonna be unlocked.”

There’s an odd pause after you say that; you’re about to question what happened before you hear rustling on his side of the phone, Beomgyu’s soft hum the last thing you hear before he lets out a soft “okay. I’ll be there.” You’re unable to thank him as he’s quick to hang up— and the exhaustion that has been building up inside you all day is suddenly released, the promise of food making your brain at ease as you slowly make your way over to the couch.

You’re so tired— a small nap wouldn’t hurt, right? It would be nice to wake up to the sight of food at my doorstep, you think, a small smile easing onto your face as you find yourself curling up at the end of your couch; oh, you really can’t help yourself— your eyelids are becoming excruciatingly heavy.

For the umpteenth time today, you allow yourself to sleep— even if it’ll only last twenty minutes at most.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Beomgyu is a little off-put as he peeks inside your apartment.

He feels odd, extremely guilty, and a bit shameful as he pops his head inside, all of his calls have gone to voicemail as he chose the next best option— you did say your door was unlocked, after all.

He expected you to be scolding him for taking so long after forty minutes had passed, but he found himself pleasantly surprised (and somewhat worried) when his phone remained entirely unbothered; so now here he stands, multiple heavy bags filled with ingredients in his hands as he kicks off his shoes clumsily.

He finds you fast asleep on the couch; he’s extremely concerned at how trusting you are, but he decides to chalk it up to the fact that your skin is burning hot to the touch and you’re probably not thinking straight— Beomgyu is quick to pull his palm away from your forehead the moment you stir even slightly, jolting into action as he flees into your kitchen instead.

Placing the bags on your table, he looks back at you in worry— all he can do for now is wet a few paper towels, wringing out as much water as he can before he’s making his way to you cautiously; you’re burning up and sweaty as he dabs the towel on your skin, tutting softly as he finally places the towel on your forehead.

“I knew you weren’t feeling well,” he scolds you softly, pulling the blanket that has fallen off your shoulders back on you carefully before he’s pulling away, rolling his eyes at the sight, “you’re lucky you practically pay my bills.”

Quietly, Beomgyu gets to work— he feels a bit bad for rummaging through your kitchen so boldly, but he’s sure you wouldn’t really mind if you woke up; you’re the one who invited him in the first place.

At some point, Beomgyu finds himself quite comfortable in your kitchen— it’s quite spacious and allows him to get lost deep in his thoughts; he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s unable to pick up on the fact that you’re wide awake and slowly trudging your way to him.

“Choi Beomgyu,” the sound of your voice is enough for him to practically jump out of his skin, narrowly missing his finger as he hurriedly drops the knife in his hands, spinning around wildly as he presses himself tightly against the counter— your tired and puffy face is eerily close to his as your lidded eyes stare up at him, still heavy with sleep as you frown softly.

“What,” you mumble softly, taking in his flustered expression before your eyes are wandering to the mess behind him— the cutting board of vegetables, the stovetop that is busy with two pots simmering away, a familiar aroma filling your apartment; your eyes flick back to the way he seems both guilty and embarrassed, your head tilting as he watches you slowly piece everything together, “what is all this? Where’s your mom's food?”

Well, maybe not.

Beomgyu sighs— the sight of him shaking his head in dismay is enough to have your eyes widening with surprise, watching as he slowly turns his back to you; the constant rhythm of him cutting vegetables is the only sound that fills the room, and it seems that Beomgyu won’t be answering your question any time soon; you’re ready to protest and annoy him until he talks, but it seems he’s quick to beat you to it.

“My mom wasn’t the one who made it,” he sighs, putting his knife down as he quickly goes to the pot of soup to give it a mix; your eyes are fluttering shut at the smell, a small smile gracing your lips as you fight the urge to have a taste then and there; but you’re snapped back to reality from his words, stammering as you look at him in confusion.

“But— you said it was—“

“My mother's recipe,” he draws out, dropping the seasoned vegetables into a third pot as you watch them get steamed, “I’m the one who made the food.”

You think back to the floral lunch bag he handed to you hours earlier; how he seemed so hesitant to give it to you, oddly pouty as he watched the way you were quick to hand it to someone else— you feel yourself become embarrassed by your behavior, oddly defensive as you remember how much you begged for him to give you another taste.

“Oh. Okay,” you say, clearing your throat as you slump back down on a chair— you found it entirely too exhausting to be standing for that long, “it was the next best thing for me anyway— my driver is off right now so I have no one to take me anywhere.”

“I see you’re feeling better,” Beomgyu mumbles, rolling his eyes at your actions as your usual bratty self resurfaces; he almost found your delirious, emotional self from earlier more welcoming than this, forced to listen to more of your ramblings as you watch him cook.

“No. Not at all actually,” you complain, the ache in your body suddenly much more noticeable than it was a few minutes ago as you cross your legs on the chair; you’re huddled up in your blanket again, staring at his back as you practically take out your pain on him, “my head feels like its gonna explode— my body’s so fucking hot but I can’t take this blanket off or else I’ll feel like I’m freezing my ass off. I don’t know what to do because I never get sick like this; if anything, I should’ve called our family doctor instead of you.”

You feel a bit bad as the words come out sharper than you intended— Beomgyu is easy to read as he flinches at your statement, head ducked down and an awkward silence permeating the room as he says nothing in response.

“…you’re lucky your mom taught you how to cook,” you backtrack, your voice oddly soft as you press your lips together; you refuse to say anything more as you curl up tightly on the chair, laying your head down on the table as you attempt to let your blanket shield you from the world— you’re back to your unpredictable, emotional self as you feel a lump forming in your throat, a feeling of longing forming inside you as you wish you were home instead of here, pestering your poor tutor in exchange for a hefty sum of money.

“Hey,” his voice is much closer than you expected it to be as you peek up from your small fortress, raising a brow as you stare at the glass of water and pills in his hand, “take this. I’m guessing you haven’t taken any medication for your fever in a while.”

A soft ‘hmph’ is all that leaves you as you reluctantly accept the medicine (because the truth was that he was right). It isn’t until he shows you what he’s giving you as you take the pills begrudgingly; you hate that he can see through you so easily. Chugging down the glass of water, you fail to notice how he waits beside you patiently, sending him a petulant look as you wait for him to say something— instead, he raises a small thermometer to your forehead, taking your temperature as he lets out a soft tsk.

“Your temperature is way too high. Eat, then go back to sleep,” he says, only leaving your side to get you a proper serving of soup; it’s the same meal you had earlier, but you’re oddly excited as you notice the hefty amount of rice he gave you, a new side of him peeking through as he watches you carefully— it’s only when you send him a questioning look that he becomes red in the face, clearing his throat awkwardly as he points back to the mess behind him.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it,” he mumbles, not bothering to look you in the eyes as he quietly begins to take care of the dishes.

“I wasn’t going to,” you remark, your mouth still full of rice as you scoff softly at his excuse— you find yourself oddly annoyed with him as you take in just how much he’s doing for you, unable to fathom anyone else doing all this for you, unprovoked.

He must really need the money, you reason with yourself, unsure of why else he would do such a thing— you roll your eyes at the thought, any intimacy that might have come from all this dissolving into thin air as you become oddly irritated with him.

But you will admit, this soup really hits the spot.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You’re out like a light moments after.

If Beomgyu said he was surprised, it would definitely be a lie; you were barely awake on your couch for more than five minutes, and by the time Beomgyu finishes cleaning up and putting away the leftover ingredients in your fridge (which was criminally empty for someone who had so much money) you’re already curled back up in your corner of the couch, your temperature only having gone down slightly as you begin to toss and turn in your sleep.

The wet paper towels that Beomgyu had placed on you earlier are folded neatly on your coffee table— Beomgyu huffs softly as he discards it, wetting some more before he’s placing it carefully on your forehead; he’s unsure of what else to do now, standing back awkwardly as he considers staying to watch over you— your condition seemed pretty serious from how high your temperature was, and it certainly didn’t help that you straight up rammed into the kitchen table and injured your shin from how unstable you were.

And that’s when you became a crybaby once more.

He can still see the lingering tears that cling to your lashes, a soft pout forming on your lips as you shiver slightly at the touch of the cool towel. What to do, he ponders, sitting on the couch opposite to you as he watches over you carefully, he’s not sure if there’s anyone else that could take care of you.

Hell, the fact that he’s here of all people is enough to prove that to him; but also, he should really be studying for that upcoming physics exam that has been concerning him a bit. He glances back at you— calm, undisturbed, only shifting every once in a while as you tuck yourself deeper into the blanket you wrapped tightly around yourself— and he sighs, finding himself oddly torn as he wonders whether he should leave you or not.

He could go back home and study, but he knows that he wouldn’t get very far, thoughts of you and your condition plaguing his mind as he desperately tried to focus. His thoughts are disrupted as you groan softly in discomfort, shifting restlessly on the couch before your eyes are fluttering open, locking with his instantly.

“You’re still here,” you murmur, squinting at him as you cough softly, “thought you’d be gone by now.”

Beomgyu doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him; it’s oddly condescending as he finds himself standing up instantly, clearing his throat as he looks away from you and your searing gaze.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling strangely flustered as he makes his way to the front door; your eyes follow him the whole way there, and he feels so small under your gaze as he goes to slip his coat on. “I was just leaving.”

“Oh. ‘kay,” you shrug, shifting restlessly on the couch before you’re turning your back to him, curled into a ball as you wave at him weakly, “I’ll Venmo you later.”

He can’t help but feel bristled at your careless attitude, still not used to the way you’re always ready to spend money at the drop of a hat despite tutoring you for weeks now. Tying his shoes, he can’t help but glance at you one last time; it pains him to admit he’s slightly worried for you, but the rational part of him tells him it’s just because he doesn’t want you calling him to come back the moment you’re feeling nauseous again.

Yet you remain still, resembling a rock as your figure is hidden under countless piles of blankets— judging by the steady rise and fall of it, he figures you already fell back asleep.

It takes Beomgyu an embarrassingly long time to leave— but only because he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t wake up spontaneously and start whining, of course— you remain dead to the world the whole time he watches over you.

By the time Beomgyu finally makes it out of your doorway, he feels more frustrated than anything. Because even once he gets home to study, he can’t help but keep his phone close-by, worried that you’ll call out of the blue asking for help.

His phone remains silent all night.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The next time Beomgyu sees you, he’s reminded as to why you had so many difficulties getting a tutor.

You’re flashy and perfect as always as you stand in the doorway of his apartment, arms crossed and eyes no-doubt narrowed behind your expensive designer shades. Your foot is tapping impatiently at the concrete outside as you tilt your head in annoyance— Beomgyu had made the mistake to ignore the first few rings of his doorbell, much too distracted by his game to remember that it would be you waiting for him.

“So? You gonna let me in, or do you need to tidy up first?” Beeomgyu’s mantra consists of how short your lesson will be today and the paycheck he’ll get out of it— one of the perks of you being desperate was that Beomgyu got to raise his rates shamelessly— and it takes Beomgyu a second to push past your intimidating and prickly demeanor to nod his head and step aside, watching as you push your shades up and secure them on your head.

It takes you a second to slip out of your shoes as you daintily put them aside, and Beomgyu can feel his ears become hot as he watches the way you wince slightly at the pair of guest slippers he hands you— though he tries to tell himself you don’t mean to be like this, a soothing lie that lets him lead you to his living room as he ignores his insecurity.

“Wait, can’t we just go to your room? I don’t feel like studying on the couch right now,” the yawn that rips through you is uncontrollable as you face away and cover your mouth politely— Beomgyu tries to not let his jaw drop to the floor in response. For someone who had never been to his apartment, you sure were demanding. He shouldn’t feel too surprised though, given how blunt you’ve proved to be the entire time he’s known you.

He’s unable to say no as he gathers the textbook and notebooks on the table and leads the way; he can feel his heart pounding against his chest in fear that you’ll judge him, heart pounding slightly as he goes to lead you to where his room is. (He just hopes you’ll judge him internally, at the very least.)

Meanwhile, you’ve been biting back a smile this whole time; you know you’ve been quite bitchy to him this whole time, but you’d like to think it’s karma for making you study first thing at nine in the morning— his excuse had been the long shift he’d have to cover straight after the tutoring session.

You’re quite surprised at the size and state of his apartment, expecting something much… cheaper, as you kept in mind how quick Beomgyu was to do something whenever you offered him money. Yet as you walk to his room, you’re left quiet as you take in the way everything in his home practically shines; his coffee table, the couch that lacks any crumbs or trash, and his carpet that seems to be recently vacuumed.

You find yourself so caught up in the appearance of his apartment that you fail to notice another presence in the living room; specifically, one that lets out a loud chirp, your body jumping back from the startle and eyes growing wide as you search for the source of the sound— your eyes land on a cage tucked in the corner of the room, a bright green bird with big eyes staring at you curiously from within.

“What the fuck is that?” you say softly— much louder than you intended, really— and Beomgyu is turning back around to see what you’re talking about, eyes widening as he realizes you’re currently staring down his bird with a slight wonder.

“Oh— that’s Toto,” Beomgyu says, rushing to put everything in his arms down and scurrying after when he notices you beginning to get closer; he’s hovering over you, taking in your expression of curiosity carefully before he continues. “He’s my parrot.”

You let out a soft oh. You seem rooted to your spot as you watch the bird continue to climb around the cage, clearly much more active now that Beomgyu is nearby; the said man notes your obvious curiosity, and before he can stop and have any second thoughts, he’s reaching over you to open the cage.

“Wait wait, what’re you—” a yelp escapes you and you’re jumping back the moment Beomgyu is reaching inside, hiding behind him and peeking over his shoulder to watch the way he extends a finger out to the bird— Toto— your mouth falling open dumbly as you take in the way the bird immediately climbs onto his hand.

Beomgyu is careful to take him out; you’re still peeking from behind him as you stare down his bird with wide eyes, body tensed as though it could fly away any given moment— you’re flinching in surprise when he’s turning to face you, hands coming up in defense as the bright green bird swings along, not a thought in its beady eyes as it’s suddenly thrust into your face— you step back again, the movement sudden and startling the bird as its wings flap slightly, which in turn startles you again— Beomgyu merely watches in amusement, and he tries his best to contain his laugh in fear of facing your prickly attitude.

“What the hell,” you breathe out softly, brows twitching and knitting together as you stare at Toto as though it were a foreign creature you’ve never seen, “It’s so… weird looking.”

Beomgyu can only gawk at your comment.

“He’s— he’s not,” is all Beomgyu can say in rebuttal, offended as he looks over at Toto, examining him in reassurance before he pulls his pet closer to his chest.

“He’s a handsome little bird,” Beomgyu mutters, and you’re sure you definitely weren’t supposed to hear that, watching in amazement as Beomgyu strokes Toto’s head fondly, the said bird bowing its head so he can get better access, “you’re such a cool guy, don’t listen to her Toto.”

Glancing back at you, Beomgyu seems to realize what he’s just said, and blushes a soft pink— though you’re not sure why he’s acting so shy, you’ve literally been standing there the whole time— and he clears his throat awkwardly, casting his gaze back to his pet and running his finger along the bird gently before he’s speaking again.

“Do you wanna hold him?”

“I— what?!” you say indignantly, eyes growing the size of saucers as you stare at him, acting as though he’s just told you something extremely offensive, “I don’t want that thing near me, what if it— it…”

You’re trailing off slowly— Beomgyu looks absolutely dejected. You can tell he’s trying not to show his hurt, avoiding your gaze and staring down at Toto instead, but he simply reminds you too much of a kicked puppy to let you continue your baffled ramblings; a moment passes where the two of you don’t say anything, but you finally break the second Beomgyu looks like he’s about to put Toto back in.

“Fine.”

He looks back at you immediately; his eyes look like they’ve been filled with stars.

“Give— give me the bird,” you mumble offhandedly, outstretching your hand awkwardly and finding yourself unable to look at him for once; you can feel the heat of embarrassment threatening to creep onto your skin, but you will it away and bite your cheek as you wait for Beomgyu to do something.

After a second, you feel it; the pressure on your finger, the weird texture and the claws that dig into your skin as the bird’s little feet wrap around you, unable to contain the way you shudder at the feeling; your arm has gone rigid and you’re reluctant to look at the pet that is now perched on your hand, afraid that it might attack you or something— but after a deep breath and some mental encouragement, you do it anyway.

This thing is so fucking creepy, you find yourself thinking, face screwing into one of disdain as you take in the way it simply remains still, freaking you out even further when it suddenly tilts its head in curiosity.

It begins to climb up your arm.

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” you breathe out in a panic, extending your arm away from you as steadily and quickly as you can, the thing now perched on your forearm as you bite back a squeal of fear— you’re looking over at Beomgyu in a haste, expression blatantly screaming help me!— and he quickly springs into action the moment your eyes meet.

“Toto,” Beomgyu coos, clicking his tongue and reaching out to place his hand at Toto’s feet; but the bird only continues to climb up and runs away from Beomgyu, a long, slightly terrified, groan leaving your lips as you can only watch it in horror, much too afraid to jerk your arm and send Toto flying; the moment it’s talons find its way onto your shoulder, you find yourself looking away and praying.

“Toto,” Beomgyu tries again, a little stressed now as he watches his bird perch peacefully on your shoulder— you, on the other hand, are in utter distress, shoulders tense and eyes screwed shut as you mentally pray for the thing to not peck at you— you think you’ve started to hold your breath now.

Through your eyes that peek slightly in fear, you’re able to see Beomgyu reach down at the storage unit beneath the cage and grab something; Toto seems to shift on your shoulder from the sight, and you grow tense as you wonder what the hell the man could be up to— with another call of Toto’s name, the bird finally jumps off your shoulder and over to Beomgyu.

Your body practically slumps in relief.

Beomgyu is back to holding Toto in his hand; your brows furrow at the sight of it eating something strange, your obvious confusion making Beomgyu smile slightly.

“It’s millet,” he explains, slowly moving to put Toto back in the cage before he places the said millet inside as well; with one last gentle scratch at Toto’s head, Beomgyu closes the cage. “It’s like a treat for him.”

“Whatever,” you say dismissively, glancing at Toto one last time before you shudder and turn away, “I don’t wanna see him again.”

Beomgyu isn’t too offended by your comment; if anything, he smiles in amusement, muttering softly that Toto seems to like you— you make a point to blatantly ignore his comment.

Any confidence Beomgyu had built up from before disappears the moment you finally arrive before the door that leads to the room; he’s found himself nervous once more, shifting the materials in his arms and reach out to open his door cautiously; he hopes you didn’t take notice of the way his hand shook slightly.

His room is no different than the rest of the apartment as you stand in the doorway, curiously surveying it all; your brow raises in amusement as you take in the way his personality is scattered throughout the small room. His bed is neatly made and the sheets are pressed to perfection, and the nightstand contains a stack of books that are both thick and annotated.

In front of you, you watch Beomgyu awkwardly place the books in his arms down on the bed, pushing up his glasses as you allow your eyes to continue drifting around— they instantly land on the desk setup in the corner of the room, your eyes widening as you’re able to recognize how expensive the setup is; two monitors display a random game you seem to recognize, and you let your curiosity get the best of you as you approach it slowly.

The keyboard is lighting up before you and a headset is hung on one of the monitors, and you let out a soft tsk as you take in the empty coffee cups beside the mouse, the only messy thing about his whole room; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s spilled the liquid over the setup before.

What surprised you the most however, are the countless picture frames and cute figurines that are scattered all over the room— a lucky cat is perched right at his windowsill, waving at you repeatedly as you’re unable to hold back your laugh of bewilderment; everything seems to be dusted and well taken care of, you’re surprised Beomgyu can ever find the energy to do such things.

“You play League of Legends?” Is all you say, turning around as you meet Beomgyu’s flustered face; Beomgyu had been on the verge of melting into a puddle of embarrassment the entire time you looked around his room, unsure of what to say or do the moment you approached his gaming setup. He was sure you’d make fun of him, but instead he’s pleasantly surprised as he silently hopes his face isn’t a raging red at the moment. (It definitely is, but you’re kind enough to give him a break and not tease him about it.)

“Oh— yeah. You play?” It’s oddly adorable to watch the way his eyes light up and his whole body perks up excitedly, but you find it even more adorable to watch the way he deflates as you bark out a laugh of surprise, your whole face lighting up as you cover your mouth in apology, feeling a slight pity for managing to make him look like a kicked puppy again.

“Fuck no!” You say in amusement, unable to imagine yourself doing such a thing, “Huening used to be obsessed with it though.”

You roll your eyes at the memory, recalling all the nights back in high school where he’d leave you alone in his bed, staying up late gaming with his friends while you hid in his room during social gatherings— but now he “outgrew that childish game,” according to him. If anything, you think he outgrew gaming all together, especially after you expressed how ridiculous the whole thing seemed to you.

“Huening, the guy from your apartment?” Beomgyu says meekly, eyes downcast as he flips through his notes mindlessly; you scoff, flopping on the bed next to him as you cross your legs daintily.

“Yeah, the guy from my apartment,” you say, leaning in to try and catch his gaze, “what, you jealous?”

Your comment is enough to have Beomgyu a sputtering mess; you don’t think he could get any redder than he is now as he shoves his notebook into your lap, clearing his throat weakly as he scoots away from you, leaving an offending amount of space as he squeaks out a defensive no.

“Wouldn’t blame you if you were,” you tease, staring down at the notes as you try to decipher what the hell it could all mean— it’s embarrassing when you’re left on your own for a good minute, unable to say anything about the material before Beomgyu is finally jumping to your aide and explaining things to you; slowly, you settle down and allow him to begin the session.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You’d like to pat yourself on the back for lasting so long. Lasting so long without being difficult, that is, because the hour of peace Beomgyu got was short lived before you became a short-tempered brat before him—the only thing that surprises him at this point is the confidence you get to be like this all the time.

“I seriously don’t get this stuff,” you whine, kicking Beomgyu softly as you hold back a smile— it was clearly done to tease him— laying back on his bed as you cross your arms childishly, “I think I should just change my major.”

Beomgyu isn’t surprised that you find that so easy to say— for a moment, he dreams of being able to do the same when times get tough, but he was quick to come back to reality as he watched you kick at him petulantly; you managed to lay on his bed and make yourself comfortable, splayed over his pillows as you continued to mess around with him.

“Can’t we take a break? I’ve been good,” you pout, tapping your fingers on your bicep as you look at him sweetly— Beomgyu has to look away in order to say no, tapping his pencil on his notebook as he quietly prays for you to settle down and focus again.

“Come on, you’re lucky I showed up in the first place,” Beomgyu’s gaze is glued to his notebook as you roughly sit up, your denim shorts riding up your thighs as you kneel close to him; taking a deep breath to calm himself proves to be a mistake as he gets a good smell of your expensive perfume, biting his lip as he watches you try to get his attention by getting closer to him.

“You only showed up because I did you a favor,” it’s odd that you find the way his voice trembles and his ears turn red adorable, but then again, you’d be a little sad if a man didn’t react that way to you.

You have him wrapped around your finger— it’s a fact that dawns on you as you watch the way he doesn’t shut you down and forces you to study. Scooting closer to him, you lean down, pressing your cheek against his bicep as you stare down at the countless notes that lay before him.

“Well, that and because you’re kinda cute,” you admit, holding back a smile at the way he flinches at the sudden contact, “But seriously, I’m so bored.”

Beomgyu thinks you might have gone insane as he watches the way you take the materials in his lap away from him, setting it to the side before you’re stringing yourself across his lap, stretching cutely as you stare up at him with wide doe eyes— he’s quickly looking back up as he fails to find the strength to push you off.

“I can’t believe I actually came here this early,” you say, adjusting yourself on his thighs before you’re grabbing his hand, playing with his sleeve coyly as you wonder how far you can take this, “How’d you afford this place all by yourself? It’s in a good area too.”

“I didn’t,” Beomgyu stutters out, clearing his throat as he pulls his hand away from your grasp shyly, “I have a roommate— Yeonjun.”

“Choi Yeonjun? Captain of the baseball team?” You say, eyes widening as you watch Beomgyu nod softly; you’re sitting up, ignoring the way Beomgyu visibly relaxes at the action, “Is he here right now?”

“No, he’s out,” Beomgyu frowns, watching as the gears turn in your head, your pout obvious as you take in his response, “he won’t be home for another three hours.”

How in the hell did he and Beomgyu become roommates? It’s a question you’re quite literally fighting the urge to ask, but knowing that one of the most attractive guys you’ve had your eye on currently lives in the same house as the man before you makes you want to stick around longer— though you think you might be too obvious about it, judging by the way Beomgyu’s frowning at you.

“That’s nice,” you hum, feeling a bit bad for the way Beomgyu looks away in defeat, “but that means we’re all alone here?”

Your question is enough to have Beomgyu sitting up straight— your tone is so dangerous, the way you slowly crawl to him even more so.

He quickly finds himself scooting back, eyes flying around wildly as he almost falls off the bed— you’re quick to catch him, pulling him by the collar of his sweater as his adam’s apple bobs visibly. His long hair falls back and his face is left exposed to you, your body finding comfort on top of his as you straddle his thighs comfortably. His glasses are left on the tip of his nose as his ears quickly turn red, cheeks dusted with the same color as he uselessly props himself up on his elbows; you’re practically nose to nose as you tower over him, your cute blouse hanging and exposing your breasts in a way that has Beomgyu staring straight above your head— in return, the reflection of your sunglasses is all that meets him.

“Do you ever take a break?” You ask, letting go of his collar before you’re gently smoothing it out; he’s shivering at your touch, eyes fluttering shut nervously as he exhales at the feeling of your warm hand— he knows you can see the way he tenses as you begin to trail your palm down his chest, pressing teasingly where his heart resides as you tilt your head cutely.

“Ever stop studying and just…. Take care of yourself?” The implications of your words couldn’t be more obvious with the way your voice drops, your thighs clenching around his body as you watch his breath hitch at the action; your fingers delicately drum against his chest as you wait for him to say something, to push you off and tell you to never speak to him again— instead, he shakes his head, his shyness intensifying as his eyes remain shut.

“Will you let me take care of you?” You breathe out, entranced with the way his eyes finally open to meet yours— within them, he sees no malice or mockery, just an intense fire and need that has his stomach twisting and his hands grabbing at his neatly pressed sheets in anticipation.

Softly, he nods.

You’ve never experienced this before; you’ve never had a man pliant and weak under you, ready to take whatever you give him with adoring eyes that sparkle under the lights. You’re so used to being the one in that position, of allowing yourself to be used and molded how they’d like— so to say you’re quite surprised at the thrill you feel is an understatement.

“You’re like a little puppy,” you mumble sweetly, reaching up to caress his heated cheeks— the whine that escapes him is involuntary, your eyes clouding with lust as you take in the way he reacts to your nickname; leaning up, you grab the collar of his sweater as you guide him to sit up with you— you’re in awe of how obedient he is as he follows your command, hands hovering politely as he waits for your next move.

“Do you like it when I call you that?” You tilt your head, laying your hands by Beomgyu’s collar bones before they’re sliding up, intertwining lazily behind his nape as you’re leaning in teasingly; you’re so close to him, you can feel his breath fan on your face as you tease the corner of his lips with your own— you’re pulling away the moment he tries to chase you, giving him an expectant look as you wait for him to answer your question. “Puppy?”

“Y—yes, I…” he’s unable to finish his sentence the moment he feels your chest press against his, soft breasts teasing him as he squeezes his eyes shut; you’re everywhere, your lips planting feather-like kisses on his cheeks as you begin to overwhelm his senses. Your warm thighs that encase him, your hands that play with the nape of his hair, your perfume that he gets to inhale as you tilt your neck closer to him— hell, as you reach his jaw, he’s able to smell your shampoo, the scent addicting and no doubt expensive as you press yourself firmly against him.

This is insane. There should be no universe where Beomgyu should have one of the richest girls in his university pressed against him and on his lap, and there’s no way he’s the one submitting himself so pathetically in it. Yet here he is, practically leaning into your touch and chasing after you the moment you pull away, feeling a whine escape from his throat as he finally finds the courage to place a hand on your hip; keeping you in place, fingertips splayed over the swell of your ass as you try and fail to hide the smile that breaks out on your face.

“Stupid puppy wants me to kiss him?” You pout mockingly, and instead of feeling the usual shame bubbling within him from your condescending tone, Beomgyu can only feel himself melt pathetically, pouty face and shining doe eyes begging you to give in as you brush away a strand of hair that fell in his eye; Beomgyu’s eyes flutter shut at the gentle touch, lips parting before he finally feels you swoop in and take him by surprise.

Your lip gloss is sweet and sticky as you ravish the boy below you, able to feel his inexperience and eagerness with the way he’s practically ready to push you back into the mattress— but he holds himself back, allowing you to swipe your tongue along his lip and tease him before you’re venturing further.

It’s all so lewd and desperate, and Beomgyu feels dazed by the time you’re finally pulling away, a Cheshire grin on your face as you swipe his bottom lip that’s shining with lip gloss and saliva; like instinct, his lips part and close around your thumb, eyes never straying from yours as you feel his tongue swipe over the finger teasingly— your gaze darkens at the sight, mind racing with all the things you could do to him as you watch the way his plush lips circle around the digit.

The pop that sounds throughout the room when you pull away is enough to make you let out a soft groan, your eyes tracing along his body until you finally find the very thing you’re curious about— smiling, you’re not as surprised to find his dick straining against the neat fabric of his trousers.

“Can I touch you, pup?” You ask, your voice breathy and deep as you wait patiently for his answer; once again, he gulps, shining eyes just as dazed as you are before he finally lets out a soft yes; slowly, your perfectly manicured hand makes its way down to his khaki trousers, playing with the button before you’re finally undoing it— the sigh that Beomgyu lets out once you undo his zipper is practically lethal, your lips twitching in delight at the sound.

It’s cute to see the way his hips buck up into the air as you reveal his boxers, helping you pull down his pants until you’re face to face with the very thing you’ve been wanting the most. It’s odd, but it seems as though Beomgyu brings out a side you didn’t think existed, a teasing smile creeping its way onto your face as you plant your core firmly on him; he’s letting out a strangled gasp at the sudden pressure and warmth, his eyes screwing shut as his lips are falling open, the sight tempting as you resist the urge to kiss him again.

Beomgyu is like an instrument under your touch, and you’re eager to learn how to play as you slowly begin to rock your hips back and forth; the reaction is instant for him as he bucks up into you, whimpering cutely as his eyes remain shut the whole time. Your thighs feel so soft against his own, and he’s sure he won’t last long if he’s forced to inhale your intoxicating scent the whole way through.

It isn’t until you’re climbing off his lap that Beomgyu’s eyes are finally flying open, meeting yours in a confused haze as he allows you to push him back and tower over him as he lays; he looks so enticing and pretty with his hair splayed out around the sheets, lidded eyes and fucked out expression oddly addicting to you as you go to straddle one of his thighs.

“You’re so cute,” you coo, pushing his sweater up as you run your nails teasingly over his stomach— you laugh softly as he flinches at the feeling. Slowly, you’re pulling the waistband of his boxers down until his cock is finally springing out and smacking against his stomach; his tip is red and sticky as a line of precum is left connected to his stomach, his eyes shutting in embarrassment once more as he turns his head to the side in an effort to turn away. He’s so long as you take him in, appreciating the vein that runs along the curve of his shaft with a soft hum.

“Please,” he whines, covering his face with his hands as his body grows hotter the longer you stare at him; you can only laugh fondly at the sight, watching the way his hips buck up uselessly at the sound.

“My puppy, you’re so pretty,” you sigh, spitting in your hand before you’re finally reaching down to grab ahold of him; the feeling is unexpected as Beomgyu lets out a soft yelp under you, his cries dying out the moment you’re beginning to stroke him teasingly.

“How long has it been since you let out some steam?” You tease, running your thumb across his tip and spreading the precum along as he simply moans in response; he’s so whiny and breathy as none of your words seem to register in his head, enamored by the pretty girl that’s sitting on his thigh and stroking his cock so well.

You can’t help yourself when you readjust to kneel between his legs, his face still covered by his hands as he doesn’t anticipate your next move— Beomgyu swears he almost came the moment he felt your mouth wrap around his tip. Your mouth is practically watering around Beomgyu’s cock as you slowly take him in, surprised by his length yet determined to hear more of his pathetic gasps and whines as you slowly take him in.

“Oh god, oh god, you’re so— y-you’re so warm, oh,” Beomgyu is a babbling mess as his hands land helplessly on your head, unsure of what to do with them as he feels the tip of your nose press against his navel; his eyes are practically rolling back as he feels the mess you’re making on his cock, your mouth so hot and wet he can’t help the way he subtly thrusts into it.

“I’m sorry, I— I didn’t mean to…” his words are dying on his tongue the moment he feels you reach for his hand and pull back, guiding him to set the pace as you run your tongue over his tip— that’s enough to have Beomgyu whining and out of breath, but he’s able to pull himself together as he slowly begins to fuck your mouth.

“Shit, you’re so pretty, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Beomgyu breathes out, fascinated with the way you remain completely cool even as he begins thrusting his cock into your throat, “so good.”

The sudden confession doesn’t process in Beomgyu’s mind, but it has your mind reeling as you close your eyes, determined to make this man fall apart under you as you ignore the flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

It takes Beomgyu a second to find his pace as he’s gently stroking your hair, face warm and shining with embarrassment as he tries to ignore how inexperienced he may seem— contrary to what he might think, you don’t really care; the only thing you care for is how melodic he sounds as his hips begin stuttering into your mouth, the feeling of your tongue running along his shaft too much for him as his breath hitches pathetically.

“Wait wait wait— oh my god, I’m so— Ah, please don’t stop,” he’s whimpering and babbling at your touch, his hand attempting to pull you off as he nears his release; you only sink further in retaliation, the loud moan that Beomgyu lets out giving you satisfaction as you feel his cum spurting against the back of your throat— your eyes are barely able to catch his expression as he throws his head back, hips stilling entirely as he rides out his orgasm.

Beomgyu is still trying to catch his breath when he feels his hips bucking subconsciously, the feeling of you pulling away making him whine softly from the sensitivity. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, his glasses skewed and his vision a haze as his gaze meets yours— he’s able to catch the way you swallow, your mouth empty as a teasing grin sneaks onto your face.

His stomach flips at the sight.

He’s unsure of what to do as you sit up, your hair mused and your clothes in disarray as you take him in with an intense stare— he feels oddly shy as he tugs down his sweater to cover himself, gulping nervously as he begins to wonder if this was all a twisted joke— some sort of childish dare, anything that was meant to humiliate him.

Instead, he feels you reach forward to fix his glasses, brushing away the hair that was stuck to his forehead as you smiled sweetly; Beomgyu thinks he forgot how to breathe as he takes in your proximity, left frozen as you leave a slow, chaste kiss on his lips.

“I should go— you have work, right?” The question is enough to snap Beomgyu back to reality, nodding softly as you finally get up from his bed; turning to his mirror, you fix your appearance, brows raising in curiosity as you notice the guitar that’s propped up beside it— you briefly wonder if he’s good at playing it, and find yourself wanting to ask if he can sing; you refrain. “I’ll let you get ready then.”

There’s not much Beomgyu can say as he watches you go to his door like nothing happened; he flinches in surprise as you turn back to him one last time, a grin on your face as you send him one final goodbye.

“This was fun.”

Beomgyu is left to decipher your words and intentions as you walk away.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Why did you do that.

“Oh god, why did I do that?”

You’re a puddle of embarrassment as you roll around in the back of your driver’s car, your hands plastered on your face as you try to melt away from this reality— instead, the memory of Beomgyu’s flustered and fucked out face is the only thing that meets your eyelids.

You’re not sure what took over you— what in the world possessed you to fuck your tutor? You knew that if you told your friends you’d never hear the end of it, but you think you might be at risk of losing the only thing that was helping you get your grades up after this.

It was already difficult to get Beomgyu to agree to be in a room alone with you— and now you had to absolutely fuck up and push the boundaries to a place where you’d never return.

Out of all the men, it just had to be Choi Beomgyu. It’s a fact that makes your face heat up and your head hit the back of the car seat in defeat as you stare out the window in dismay; instead of going for someone who was in your league, you chose to go after a nobody.

You didn’t even get anything out of it! The thought is humiliating as you shut your eyes and groan, ignoring the way your driver glances back at you in concern; you sucked his dick and dipped— that is so unlike you.

Everything about the situation is unlike you— you would never go after someone like Beomgyu, he didn’t align with your type at all! The feeling of dread in your stomach is only worsened as you mentally go through the people you’ve been with in the past, cringing the more you realize how much of an outlier Beomgyu is.

“Mr. Kim,” you call out, pulling down your shades as you avoid the rays of sunlight that are hitting your face. He’s perking up in response immediately, glancing at you through his mirror before he nods his head to indicate he’s listening.

“Take me to Hueningkai’s house please,” you say, taking your phone out of your purse as you absentmindedly text Huening that you’re on your way— Mr. Kim’s yes ma’am is left unanswered as you watch Hueningkai respond within seconds— all you can do is sink further in your seat at his eagerness to see you, the implications of his message more than clear to you.

The drive to his home is long and silent, and you’re forced to reflect on yourself the whole way through— the more you do, the more flustered and confused you feel, forcing yourself to set those thoughts to the side as Mr. Kim pulls up to Huening’s driveway.

Yet even as you’re walking to his doorstep, an eager smile forced on your face as you wait for Huening to answer, you can’t help the way your thoughts stray. It all seems to linger on the same subject, gulping nervously at the way Beomgyu’s small whines still ring out in your head.

“Hey,” Hueningkai smiles, leaning against the doorway as he takes you in; you try to ignore the way his hungry eyes take you in, greeting him softly before you’re pushing past him and going inside, kicking your shoes off at the doorway.

“What’s up?” Hueningkai immediately asks, noticing the way you don’t indulge in any of his games or teasing, your face blank as you plop down on the couch. “You need something?”

“No,” you say, oddly defensive as you lay along his couch, crossing your legs as you proceed to do the same with your arms, “Can’t I just chill at your place without needing anything?”

Hueningkai raises a brow at your huffy comment. Tilting his head, he smiles, a gesture sly and teasing as he watches the way you stand your ground.

“Well, whenever you come over it’s usually not to just chill,” he says, repeating your words with clear amusement, “so forgive me for thinking something was off.”

You’re in a bad mood today; Hueningkai is quick to pick up on it as you scoff at his words, looking away from him and pouting as you remain silent. Slowly, he makes his way to you, testing out the waters before he’s sitting down at your feet.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks, slowly beginning to hover over you until you can’t help but look at him; he’s everywhere, a holding himself up with a hand by your head while the other finds its way to your hip— playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly teasing you until he’s pushing past and caressing your skin— you flinch at the feeling of his cold hand.

“Come on, we can talk,” he says, but you know he doesn’t really mean it with the way his leg is trying to pry your thighs open, pressing up against your core as he feels something unexpected— his eyes are lighting up as he smiles down at you, raising a brow as he takes in the small change of your expression.

“Or maybe you don’t wanna talk?” He says, the surprising heat that meets his thigh is more than welcome as he watches you become flustered under him.

“Fuck off Huening,” you groan, pressing a hand against his chest as you turn away from him— all you get in return is a dark laugh, his lips ghosting along your jawline as he presses a firm kiss under your ear, his hand pushing your shirt up as it wanders towards your breasts.

“Hmm, are you sure?” He huffs, adjusting his position so that he’s able to place a hand on your hip, grinding your hips against his thighs as he bites his lip at the sight, “won’t you put those pretty lips to use at least?”

The irritation that had been brewing inside you is far too much to handle as you scoff at his words, your head snapping back to glare at him as you push against his chest firmly, catching him off guard as you knock him off his balance entirely; he’s knocked out of his lusty reverie as he stares at you with wide eyes from the other end of the couch, lips parting as he attempts to say something, only to be cut off by you.

“Seriously Huening, I’m not in the fucking mood!” You snap, pulling your top back down harshly before you’re standing up— he’s left to watch in confusion as you readjust yourself, your brows furrowed in a mean frown as you glare at him once more— and to think you thought you’d be able to spend more than five minutes with Hueningkai without him wanting to fuck you.

“Come on baby, you know I didn’t mean it like that—“

“Do you ever think without your dick when you’re around me?” It’s annoying to see how nonchalant Hueningkai is as he laughs off your words, crossing his arms defensively as he tries to play off what just happened.

“You didn’t even think to check up on me when I was sick!” You thought you were over the bitter moment, but the memory still seems to sting as you remind him of a time where you needed him the most, “ever since we started this whole… stupid friends with benefits thing, you’ve been acting like such a prick!”

“Don’t be like this,” Hueningkai groans, throwing his head back as he runs a hand through his hair, “you’re being dramatic.”

“Oh my god!” You bark, left in disbelief as you pace around his apartment, “like seriously, are you listening to yourself right now?!”

You’re more than fed up as you make your way back to the entrance, gathering your things and slipping on your shoes as you hear Hueningkai following close behind, spouting excuses and other nonsense to try and make you stay.

You’ve opened the door when Hueningkai grabs onto you desperately, tugging you back into his chest and asking you to listen to him as he sets firm hands on your hips; you’re looking at everything but him as you remain silent, your hands pressed defensively against his chest as you give him on last chance to redeem himself.

“Come on baby, you know I don’t wanna lose you,” he says, his voice soft and vulnerable as he leans in, watching as you tilt your head away from him and continue to refuse to meet his eyes. Feeling him press you harder against him, your jaw clenches as he places a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“Lemme make it up to you. Please?”

You know perfectly well what his words entail as you push him away from you once more, swinging your purse and smacking him harshly as you let your anger out on him. He has the audacity to laugh and cower away from you as he apologizes, telling you that it was just a joke as you continue to hit him relentlessly.

“Fuck you!” You say, out of energy and left a huffing mess as you swing the door open behind you, “asshole!”

You don’t stay around to see his reaction as you slam the door shut, storming away and walking along the sidewalk as you pull your phone out.

Pick me up please.

Huening’s being an asshole, I’m waiting outside.

It’s moments like these where you regret being irresponsible with your car, left with nothing but your driver as you still wait for your precious baby to come out of the repair shop; to this day your parents still scold you for an accident that happened over a month ago, the words “bad driver” tacked on along with the rest that curate your reputation.

In a perfect world, Hueningkai would’ve come out by now; he would’ve gone after you, apologizing and hanging his head in shame in regards to his behavior— in a perfect world, he wouldn’t have turned into the person he is now, forgoing your friendship entirely to satiate his needs— you hadn’t given much thought to what the consequences to this “friends with benefits” thing would be, but if you could go back in time to the moment where he drunkenly proposed it to you, you would’ve been quick to shut him down with an incredulous laugh.

It was your fault for having a soft spot for him. Your fault for wondering what his lips would feel like one too many times, for being caught staring at him back when you were just kids and you were forced to attend dinner parties together, trying and failing to conceal the way he could fluster you with just a single smile.

Now that his desires have been satiated, you doubt he has any use for you now— which is why you find yourself waiting pathetically outside his apartment, not used to this feeling that festers in your stomach as you wait patiently— whether it’s simply for your driver or for the glimmering hope that Hueningkai will own up to his actions and take you back, you’re not sure.

But what you do know is that you’ve never felt so small.

Moments later, your driver arrives; you swear you try to hold back, but you can’t help yourself from turning around and taking one last peek at Huening’s quiet, dull apartment— gritting your teeth, you flop inside, groaning obnoxiously as you rub your temples in annoyance; your driver is unfazed by your behavior— meeting his eyes, you sigh.

“I need to go shopping.”

Wordlessly, he nods— you don’t bother to stare out the window once you finally feel the car moving, in fear that your mind may begin to imagine scenarios that simply won’t happen.

The car ride is silent, and you realize with a frown that you may have left with a mood worse than before.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

This department store is useless.

Geez, did you piss off some god above or something? Because as you stand in your tenth store in the past hour, nose scrunched and brows furrowed unpleasantly, you feel as though you may be getting karma for something— though what it may be exactly, you’re unsure.

Everything around you is either already in your closet or simply outdated. Your fingertips tap rhythmically against your crossed arms, eyes narrowed as you take slow strides around the aisles of the stores— a part-time employee follows closely behind you, hands folded neatly and a pleasant smile glued to face as she comments on every item your eyes fall on, even if it’s just for a second; your jaw ticks at her cheap tactics to sell to you.

There’s only one thing that would make your mood at this time— a limited edition purse you have had your eyes on, trying your best to catch your usual stores at the right times in hopes of getting your hands on it. Yet, with every failed attempt, your frustrations and efforts only grow, and you’ve found yourself visiting these stores more often than you’d like, always leaving with an item or two despite telling yourself not to do so.

“Excuse me,” you say sternly, your steps coming to a halt as you slowly turn to the employee. She’s meek and her voice is airy as she speaks to you, eyebrows raised as though she seems genuinely interested in what you might say next— her act only displeases you more.

“I’m trying to shop in peace, please leave me alone.” you say, watching as the woman simply flinches at your comment, smile stiffening on her lips before she’s swiftly apologizing seconds after— if you weren’t careful, you could’ve missed the way her lips turned up with irritation as she turned, muttering quietly to herself as though you weren’t two steps away to hear it.

Rich snob, you pick up, blinking in surprise as you watch her steps becoming hasty with her retreat. You don’t allow yourself to be fazed by it, a smile tugging at your lips from amusement before you turn back around; scanning the store, you glance at the mannequins on display, taking in the outfits briefly before you catch onto something else— and before you can control yourself, you’re walking again.

Don’t be stupid, your brain tells you, yelling at you as you exit the store with haste, pushing past the people standing around as you make your way to the store across, Don’t do this, this is a bad idea, don’t—

Do it, your heart tells you, pounding against your chest as you adjust the purse strap on your shoulder, gulping slightly as you swing open the door, you’re not here for him, you’re here for the very thing you’ve worked so hard for.

And if it so happens to be in his hands right now, then is it really your fault that you find yourself standing before the very man that hurt you mere moments ago?

“Cute purse,” you breathe out, eyes glued to the way it shines beautifully under the lights of the store, “Though I don’t really think it’s your style.”

Hueningkai doesn’t bother looking up. He’s too busy handling the limited edition purse that you’ve so desperately been searching for, nimble fingers running over the details as though he were actually taking his time to inspect it; instead, he hums softly at your words, pretending to ponder for a second before he’s frowning.

“You really think so?” he asks, tsking softly to himself before he’s shaking his head, straightening up before he runs a hand against the surface; you watch the way his fingers slide across the material, teeth tugging at your lip as you fight the twitch of your brows, wanting nothing more than to take the item from his hands and walk away.

You stand there in silence, for a moment; you wonder slightly if Hueningkai is simply ignoring you, and the idea is enough to have you bristling with anger, your jaw clenching as you decide that it’s better to leave now than to look helpless before him— but he’s looking up at you, lidded eyes catching you in a daze as he tilts his head, sending you his signature charming smile.

“It wasn’t for me,” he says, looking down at the purse in his hands and holding it close to him, as though gauging its weight, “It was going to be a gift.”

“A gift? Quite the gesture on your part,” you scoff, looking at the display area in exasperation— fuck, the only purse in this awful store is in his hands, you realize— leaving you with no other choice but to hope that he’ll stop playing games and leave the purse he clearly never had any intentions of buying, “But I don’t think those other girls you talk to would be very interested in such a specific item like this— I’d suggest appealing to their own interests a bit more.”

With gritted teeth, you reach out to take the bag; an impulsive move on your part, not exactly surprised with the way Hueningkai immediately backs up and holds the bag close to him. You can practically feel your blood boil from the sheer anger that’s taking over from his antics, unamused entirely at the way he merely sends you an innocent smile.

“Don’t be rude,” he smiles, taking yet another step back, making more distance between you two, “Who are you to say what they would or wouldn’t like? Plus, I saw this first, and I had full intentions of buying it.”

You remain silent— whether you’re too baffled to speak or are simply trying to not explode and yell at him in the middle of the store, you’re not entirely sure— but, as you watch him raise a brow challengingly, you can only find yourself thinking one thing.

Fuck this. You’ll just order it online.

The idea takes away the very joy of being able to find it by chance, but you’d rather die right now than grovel to Hueningkai— like he very clearly wants— in hopes that he’ll take pity on you and give you the purse; spinning on your heels, you make your way out with brisk steps.

You don’t get very far before you hear him calling out your name— but you ignore it, a baffled scoff escaping you in response to his sheer audacity to act so shameless after belittling you a few hours prior; you’re a few steps away from the exit when you feel a tug on your wrist, jolting you back and preventing you from leaving.

“What, Hueningkai?” you say, huffing exasperatedly as you shake off his grip on you, “Can’t you just leave me alone for once? I’m not in the mood to play your stupid games.”

“Well then why don’t you talk to me instead of running away childishly?” he says sharply, and you have to bite your tongue in order to not point out his hilariously hypocritical statement, “you’re acting so weird, what the hell happened?”

You think you might just do something that’ll get you banned from the store— but something catches your eye before you can act out on your impulses, and you’re ripping your wrist from Hueningkai’s hold with one last harsh tug. Your gaze is no longer on him; he tries to follow your line of sight, but fails to catch onto what you’re looking at.

“Get out or leave me alone,” you say, giving him one last cold look before you’re brushing past him, “I’m not interested in talking to you.”

You’re weaving through the displays and getting out of his sight quickly— and Hueningkai is left with a purse he had no interest in buying, looking down at the item before he scoffs; he throws it off at a random shelf and exits promptly after.

Your footsteps are haste and your heels click rhythmically on the tiled floor; you’re making your way to the cash register, watching his meek stance and the way he flinches under your gaze, a flush running up the back of his neck and coloring his ears red— but you don’t dare to look away from him, placing a rough hand on the counter and leaning close as you inspect him.

“You didn’t tell me you worked here.”

Beomgyu is attempting to stutter out a weak response; his cheeks are colored and his hair is tied back neatly, and you can see the way his hands twitch, undoubtedly resisting the urge to run a hand through the neat style.

“Why— why would I tell you? It’s not something you’d need to know. Or– is it…?”

You’ve confused him, that much you’re sure of. His brows have knitted together and he remains flustered beyond belief— you’re sure you can guess what’s running through his mind right now, and you fight the twitch of your lips at the mere thought.

“I thought you worked as a server.”

“I– I do?” he’s tilting his head in confusion, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly, “I have two jobs.”

“Three,” you quip, drumming your nails against the counter rhythmically, “you tutor.”

“I… guess…?” Beomgyu says, fighting back the urge to correct you that he really doesn’t— you’re the only one he’s ever tutored before.

“Why would you need to work three jobs? How do you get the time for this?” you don’t really know why you’re pestering Beomgyu about this so much— but you’re also fascinated by it, now beginning to understand where Beomgyu’s lack of social life stems from.

He’s unsure of how to answer your question again; you don’t seem to be particularly patient today, (but then again, when are you?) so you’re waving him off with a dismissive swat of your hand, shaking your head and clicking your tongue before you’re changing the subject; Beomgyu is left to watch as you pull your phone out, scrolling on it for a bit before you’re placing it on the counter and spinning it around for him to see— his eyes are narrowing in concentration as he takes in the picture.

“This purse,” you say slowly, tapping your nail on your phone screen, as though Beomgyu wasn’t currently looking at it, “do you have it in stock? This guy already got one, but I need to know if you have others— I’ve got to have it.”

The urgency in your voice is a bit surprising to Beomgyu— he takes in your expression, solemn and a bit scary, and gulps— then he watches the way you melt in relief the moment he nods hesitantly.

“I’m sure we just got a shipment in today— we, haven’t really, uhm, stocked up properly yet,” he stutters, wincing slightly at the sound while you remain unfazed; your brows lift expectantly, and he’s snapping out his daze and sending you a shaky smile, “I’ll go check.”

He scurries out of your sight and into the employee door quicker than you can process— and when he turns around to take a peek at the small window, he finds you leaning on the counter and on your phone— probably texting, judging by the way your thumbs fly by on the screen— and he feels another heat of shame wash over him, his head spinning and his legs turning into jello.

How can you act so casually? He wonders, glasses slipping down just a bit farther down his nose, nimble fingers pushing it back up with ease, like you weren’t just in his bedroom a few hours prior… like he wasn’t under you…

Beomgyu practically jumps the moment your eyes flicker up and meet his; you simply smile, glossed lips stretching slowly before you give him a wink.

In response, he spins around and begins to actually look— his heart hammers in his chest.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

So pretty.

So perfect and smooth to the touch, cool under your fingertips— you take your time to feel, to trace over every detail, intricate and crafted by the gods as you let out a shaky sigh— your eyes meet Beomgyu’s, and you have half the mind to feel a bit sheepish, retracting your hand quickly and returning to a socially acceptable state of mind.

“Sorry,” you say, beaming at him before you’re reaching into your current bag and handing him your card; his eyes widen comically at the smooth black plastic you place in his hold carelessly, “It’s just… all I could ever ask for. I can’t believe I finally have my hands on this…”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu rings up your inexplicably expensive item, swiping your card and watching the way you don’t even flinch at the sum that shows up; he feels a bit jealous at your nonchalance.

You’re carrying the purse like it were a baby; it isn’t until Beomgyu offers to bag it for you that you finally let it go, placing it gently on the counter and smiling fondly as you watch Beomgyu place it carefully in the equally luxurious gift bag, placing filler paper on top and handing it back to you, his movement practiced and calculated as he says his usual lines— his mind is running on autopilot once more, but you’re particularly eager to break him out of it as you reach out to take the bag from him, warm hand wrapping around his and tugging him slightly towards you.

“Thank you for all your help today,” you purr, shining lips stretching into a coy smile, leaning against the counter and watching as he gulps, adam's apple bobbing, “I think I’ll do well on our upcoming quiz— you’re such a good tutor.”

You don’t bother to stick around after that; your steps are brisk and you’re hugging the purchase close to your body, as though someone were after it and ready to take it, confidence in your step as you exit the store— Beomgyu, on the other hand, practically crumbles the moment you’re out of sight, fingers turning white from how hard he grips onto the edge of the counter; his heart pounds and the sound of blood rushing fills his ears, mind inevitably going back to your teasing action before he’s flustering again.

You’re laughing to yourself the whole ride home— his reaction plays on your mind like a loop, beyond amused by the sight as you pat yourself on the back for being able to come up with something so clever on the spot.

What you don’t realize, however, is that there are consequences to your actions— consequences that are far beyond your control.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“Are you for real?”

“Uh-huh,” you grin, placing a fond hand on your cheek and batting your eyes at Yunjin, “totally aced it.”

“That’s something I never thought I’d hear from you,” your friend says, poking her fork at her salad before taking a bite; she furrows her brows as she takes in your expression, mouth agape and eyes wide, as though you were offended. “What? It’s true.”

“Okay, first off— I’m not stupid, just lazy,” you clarify, pointing an accusing finger at your friend as you pout, “and second of all, you should really believe in your friend a little more.”

“I mean, it was a little hard to when all you would do was skip classes and go shopping instead,” Yunjin says, raising a challenging brow when you open your mouth to refute her claims— then proceed to promptly close it again, finding that you really can’t deny that— and a small smile tugs at her lips, the kind that lets you know that she’s about to say something really annoying, “but I guess your study sessions with your little boy toy really did work.”

“Boy—?!” you’re in the middle of taking a sip from your iced coffee when she says that, the straw slipping from your mouth and a bit of the liquid escaping from the sheer surprise of her comment— you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling a slight heat rush to your face as you stare at her incredulously, “boy toy?”

“I mean, am I wrong?” Yunjin challenges, tilting her head in curiosity while you simply try to deny her claims, “you were literally just telling me about the way you had him wrapped around your finger a while ago—”

“Not like that though!” you huff, feeling worked up from the mere idea of Yunjin finding out the complete and utterly stupid slip up you had a while ago, “god, he’s literally such a fucking loser, don’t try to pair me up with him— other people might get the wrong idea. It’s already bad enough that I had to get a tutor, because it’s not like I was doing bad in my classes until recently. I mean, it’s still my fault and I did let myself go, but I didn’t think I’d have to stoop so low! And now I have to take so much time out of my day to spend my time studying with him and even worse, you’re trying to insinuate something that definitely isn’t true—!”

“Yes! Okay! Enough of that please!” Yunjin says exasperatedly, glancing over your shoulder briefly before she’s taking another bite of her salad, muttering something about you having a motor mouth, “god, it’s just that… people have seen you two together a lot, you know? And with the way he’s looking over at you right now, anyone would think that he’s like… in love with you, or something.”

You’re sitting up straight and whirling around at that; following Yunjin’s previous line of sight, you’re able to pinpoint the said boy immediately— sitting a few tables away, catching him staring at you over his laptop, clearly distracted from his work— the moment your eyes meet, he flinches, hunching down so the screen hides him; it doesn’t work very well, and you’re able to see his downcast eyes and reddening face with ease.

Oh my god, you think with horror, a cold wave washing over you as you stare at him longer— and after a few seconds, he’s peeking back up from his screen, meeting your eyes once more and scrambling to hide unsuccessfully yet again. You decide to turn back around before anyone else around you catches on to this interaction.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, meeting Yunjin’s gaze as she simply nods at you, her face screaming I told you so, “how long has he been there?”

“Like… basically this whole time,” Yunjin says casually, not fazed in the slightest by your horrified expression, “been staring at you for a while too.”

“Ugh, gross,” you groan, throwing your head back in defeat and staring up at the ceiling with a frown, “I think I might’ve gotten his hopes up too much.”

“C’mon, go easy on him,” Yunjin teases— your head is straightening up to look at her again, but a single glance is enough to tell you she merely finds this situation amusing, “it’s probably his first time properly interacting with a woman.”

“That’s even worse,” you mourn, slumping down and placing your head in your hands; a sudden reminder of your schedule is popping back into your head, and your peeking through your fingers in dismay as you relay the information to your friend, “and I have a study session with him today too.”

“Aww!” she coos, clearly having a blast as she grins, glancing behind you and undoubtedly at Beomgyu once more, “I’m sure he just can’t wait to see you again.”

“God, please shut up,” you whine petulantly, but your friend brushes off your pleas with a mischievous smile, “you’re making me wanna throw up.”

“What, you gonna cancel then?”

Silence. Any other day, you would’ve immediately jumped to say yes, pulling out your phone to text him and bailing like it was nothing. But today, you find yourself oddly reluctant to say this three letter word, unsure of why the answer is difficult to voice before you finally give in to the truth— your head slumps with defeat and you’re too ashamed to look Yunjin in the eyes.

“No.”

“Oh wow,” you hear her say, still blatantly teasing you as she laughs giddily— you don’t bother to react at this point, choosing to ignore the unspoken question of why you’re not ditching him this time.

“Hope you have fun,” she muses, taking one last glance behind you before she’s giggling to herself, “try to go easy on him, m’kay?”

Fuck, this was so embarrassing.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Today, you’ve changed up your meeting spot quite a bit; Beomgyu was thoroughly surprised when you asked him to study later on in the day, in a more secluded area on the upper levels of the library, telling him to pick a table and wait for you to get there after— usually, you tried to make your meetups as convenient for you as possible, choosing places that you could easily flee from.

When you finally come into his line of sight, Beomgyu frowns. You carry your bag with you, along with a troubled expression and tense posture, glancing around you continuously even if there was no one around, even if the table was hidden behind bookshelves— as though you were afraid of getting caught for something.

You’re dumping your things onto the table unceremoniously— and instead of taking your spot across from Beomgyu like always, you’re sitting next to him, catching him off guard and missing the way he tenses at the action— you’re scooting your chair closer to him and filling his senses with your scent, making him gulp thickly as he tries to not let his mind wander off; he realizes with dread that it’s really not working.

Beomgyu is a stuttering mess today; you pick up on it with ease, frowning at the way he continues to blunder through his explanations and having to repeat things to you multiple times, hands shakier than usual as he points out certain things in the text before he’s relating it back to the assignment.

“That— that’s one of the things the… the uhm, the professor said would be important to remember,” Beomgyu stutters, feeling his body heat up at the way you raise your brows at the sound of his cracking and meek voice. With one glimpse at your (clearly) judgemental and demeaning expression that you didn’t even bother to hide, Beomgyu is scrambling to get his act together.

It works, for a while; the two of you are left in silence as you work on the homework your professor assigned to you, and you remain unfazed at the feeling of Beomgyu catching glimpses at you from time to time; whether that be to look at what you had written down or simply to look at you, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care.

You’re snapped out of zone of concentration at the sound of rustling; a peek from your peripheral vision allows you to watch as Beomgyu has now begun to dig through his bag, wondering what he could be up to; with a roll of your eyes, you’re focusing back to the question you were working on, not bothering to glance back again even once the rustling has ceased.

Without warning, something is placed gingerly on the open surface of your textbook; you’re blinking in surprise before you’re registering what it is that has been put before you, brows knitting together as you wonder how you should react.

It’s a… mini paper flower bouquet.

You’re staring at the item for a solid few seconds before you slowly turn to look at the culprit. Beomgyu meets your intense gaze the best he can, putting up a confident front and fighting back the heat that threatens to engulf his face.

“Y–You— I heard you did well on your test.” He says, glasses slipping down his nose and bangs falling into his eyes, gaze flickering away for a split second before he wills himself to look at you again. Your stare is dead and unreadable.

“I never told you that.”

Beomgyu is losing this battle, his confidence visibly wilting away as his cheeks begin to get dusted with pink. His eyes are wide like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to respond as you give him a look that is expecting an explanation— his cheeks are now a bright red.

Even without his explanation, you both know how he got a hold of this news— and you’re thinking back to Yunjin’s teasing, the fear of being seen with him during today’s study session, and the flustered boy in front of you— and your mouth is running faster than you can stop it.

“Choi Beomgyu, do you like me?”

If the floor around you was already quiet before, it’s dead silent now; you’re even able to pick up on the stuttered breath Beomgyu lets out, his eyes growing comically wide as he simply stares at you; almost as though he couldn’t believe what you just asked of him.

“Actually, don’t even answer that,” you wave him off, choosing to ignore the way this seems to spring him into action, stuttering and failing to put together a proper sentence to tell you that no, he definitely doesn’t— you just caught him off guard!

But it’s not like you would believe him anyway, with the way he remains flustered long after you asked the question, unable to even look your way for the rest of the session, staring straight at the textbook and nowhere else whenever you would ask him a question— after a while, you begin to tire of his behavior.

“Choi Beomgyu,” you call out again, soft and dangerous as you turn to face him— he was attempting to explain a question to you, words dying on his tongue as he took in your sudden proximity— leaning in toward him, you tilt your head as you observe his reaction, watching the way his lips press together and his adam's apple bobs as he gulps softly; his puppy-like eyes shine as he waits for you to say something.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, your voice beginning to dip into that coy lilt that you’ve used on him only one other time— and that’s enough to have Beomgyu’s mind spinning, the poor boy thinking thoughts that he’s tried to suppress this whole time— your affect on him is beginning to show once more.

“You look a little…” your eyes flicker down beneath the table, a smile tugging at your lips before you’re looking back into the boy's eyes; catching where you were looking, Beomgyu can’t help but tug his sweater over his lap in embarrassment.

You’re leaning even closer now— your breath is fanning against the shell of his ear, the boy’s face practically on fire as his hands remain clenched and tense on his lap— he’s practically a statue due to your proximity.

“Distracted.”

Your hands are mischievous; curious, setting your pencil down carefully before they begin to wander, sliding across the table before it falls off the edge, nails scratching at the wool material of Beomgyu’s sweater before it lands on top of his hand that covers his lap— you grin at the choked breath of surprise he lets out from the simple touch.

“What— what, what are y–you—?” Beomgyu is about to bite through his lip at this rate, eyes wide and panicked as he watches your hand push his away, taking in the bulge in his pants as a flush of shame rises up his neck; you’ve caught him, but you don’t seem to be fazed in the slightest as you’re cupping him gently, looking up at him with doe eyes and lashes that flutter innocently— he thinks his heart might just explode from how quickly it’s pounding.

“Wait, wait wait— we’re in— other people might—” he’s tripping over his words, saying so much yet nothing at all, but the way his eyes skirt over the perimeter is enough to tell you what he’s thinking— yet all you see are bookshelves that surround and hide you well— beneath the warmth of your hand that has yet to move, you can feel Beomgyu hardening within seconds.

“It’s late. There’s no one else here right now,” you say sweetly, too sweet, a bit patronizing as you lean in close and coo the words directly into his ear— you’re brushing back his long hair with a gentle hand, tucking it behind his ears that he always seems to hide; they’re a pitiful bright red and decorated with silver piercings, absentmindedly caressing along his jaw with the back of your hand; his eyes flutter shut at the tender action, along with the feeling of your hand finally beginning to rock against his cock gently— and he melts into the chair, like putty in your hands as you watch his shoulders slump and cave into himself, his head hang at the stimulation; you’ve barely done anything, yet he’s already a mess— the sight surprises you.

“Go ahead,” you continue softly, hand cupping his jaw and cradling it carefully, attempting to get him to look at you again— and he follows your commands effortlessly, pretty eyes fluttering open and his head turning at the gentle push of your hand— and he’s looking at you with glassy, wide eyes, cheeks flushed pink and mouth parted as his eyes begin to flutter shut again— and your thumb is rubbing soothing circles along his cheekbone teasingly, leaning in slightly to whisper again, close enough that he can feel your breath fanning against the tip of his nose, “Puppy, look at me.”

He follows your command in a heartbeat; he’s met with another of your sickeningly sweet smiles, deceiving and comforting all at the same time.

“Go ahead now puppy,” you murmur, any movements of your hand ceasing entirely as you watch him with eager eyes, watching the way he seems to sober up at the loss of your touch, “take my hand off— c’mon, take it off if you really want to.”

A moment passes— he really should be taking your hand off, shouldn’t he? But his mind is clouded now and you look so pretty under the warm library lights, pristine and perfect as always, glossy lips and lidded eyes encouraging him with a deceivingly fond look— but Beomgyu loves it, and he loves the way you laugh mockingly at him, unable to control the way he whines petulantly and shakes his head, giving you your answer by thrusting his aching cock into your hand desperately.

“Good boy,” you utter absentmindedly, a compliment that makes Beomgyu’s hips stutter as you finally begin to inch up his bulge, careful fingers making quick work to undo his pants— and with one last glance at the deserted area around you, you’re slipping your hand inside and past the tight waistband of his boxers.

“Haah—!” Beomgyu is slapping a hand over his mouth and beating you to it, eyes wide and face even more flushed than before as he stares down at the way your hand disappears beneath the material of his boxers, expertly wrapping around his length and slowly beginning to jerk him off underneath the table.

You don’t seem to be worked up by any of this at all; your eyes are lidded with a slight boredom, a tiredness he’s seen at every one of your study sessions, watching the way you turn back to your homework and begin reading the instructions, hand still working expertly at his length as you do; Beomgyu has to press another hand firmly against his mouth the moment your thumb is swiping over his tip, collecting the constant arousal that collects there and using it as lube— you don’t even bat an eye at him during all this.

After a few minutes, you’re able to hear the slick sounds of your hand working against his cock effortlessly; the poor boy is aroused and leaking beyond belief, now sporting a wet patch against his pants that you seem to be dead-set on worsening— your pace is picking up and you don’t bother to glance at Beomgyu to check up on him, though you also don’t bother to hide the way your lips quirk in amusement at the sight of him trying (and failing) to keep his composure.

“M–mmh, agh— close, s’close…” Beomgyu stutters out pathetically, bucking his hips up messily and turning back into that desperate and rambly mess from the first time you sucked him off; his voice is deep and breathy as he whispers out these pleas to you, begs to not stop, to go faster, to—

“Beomgyu,” you whisper coyly, using this chance to finally put your plan into action, “Beomgyu baby, d’you wanna cum? Hmm? Want me to make you feel good?”

He’s nodding thoughtlessly; of course he’s nodding, his mind has gone blank and there’s nothing else in there that seems to make sense except for the way your warm hand wraps around his cock so perfectly, unable to stop the choked whines he lets out every time he feels you squeeze him teasingly.

“Then you gotta do something for me, okay pup?” you coo out, making sure to use the nickname you know he loves so much— he lets out a choked whimper at the sound, brows knit tightly together and hair falling in front of his face with the way he hangs his head— and you’re leaning in close to him again, breath fanning on his skin and your palm slapping his cheek softly, tapping at it to get his attention; it works like a charm, and his glassy eyes are meeting yours once more. “Puppy, are you listening?”

“I’m—” his words get cut off by a weak whine, feeling your hand tighten teasingly around him, “I’m listening— I’m listening.”

“Good,” you coo out, feeling the way his hips buck and he starts becoming restless, “now if you wanna cum, you gotta promise me something, okay?”

Anything, anything for you, he breathes out absentmindedly, and you’re sure he has no idea what he’s even agreeing to at this point.

“Don’t act like you know me when we’re in public,” you say sweetly, muddling his mind by increasing your pace, by doing exactly what you’ve noted makes him squirm and cry the most, “I don’t know you, you don’t know me— we’re strangers.”

You notice the way his face is twisting up in confusion; his mouth is parting and he’s fighting to say something, to ask why— but you’re not giving him a chance to, brushing his hair back and cupping his face, turning him to look at you and digging your nails into his cheeks to get him to meet your eyes; through the intense pleasure you give him, you can still see the hurt that swims within. You let out a soft coo at the pathetic sight.

“Come on, promise me, okay?” you pout, “you’re a good boy, right? You’ll keep your promise?”

His hips are stuttering and fucking into your fist again; you’ve got him pinned down precisely. Any coherent thought is fading out of Beomgyu’s mind and the only thing he’s concerned himself with is his impending orgasm, the feeling of pleasure that is only heightened with every string of praise you say to him.

“Be a good little puppy and say you’ll promise me,” you say, thumb swiping over his bottom lip before you’re pulling at it, dark eyes observing the way he melts before your touch and finally gives in— he’s nodding, you’ve got him right where you want him, and all you needed was a little bit of mindless praise. “c’mon, say it, say it and you can cum.”

“I promise,” he breathes out, whiny and high pitched and strained, as though speaking was a challenge for him, “I’ll do anything, please— pleasepleaseplease, let me cum, I’ll— I promise.”

“There we go baby,” you hum in approval, pressing a peck to his pouting lips and taking in the way his waterline is filled with tears that hang precariously, “such a good boy— my good boy.”

His hips stutter, rising off the seat, and you’re feeling warm spurts of cum land on your skin. His mouth is falling open and you’re sure he might just let out a loud noise, so before you can think twice, you’re pulling his face close to you and smashing your lips against his; he whines weakly into mouth, and you’re swallowing it greedily, kissing him languidly and guiding him through his high with praise that makes his breath stutter and his knees weak.

You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and good.

It takes a while before Beomgyu is finally coming to his senses. He’s panting softly against your mouth, lips swollen and bitten at, his cock sensitive as the feeling of you continuing to pump him slowly suddenly becomes too much; with a shaky hand, he presses against your shoulder and attempts to signal you to stop. You’re pulling away immediately.

Beomgyu looks, for lack of a better term, absolutely destroyed. His face is flushed and his eyes are droopy with exhaustion, hair mussed and messy and his clothes in complete disarray; you look down, and you’re wincing in half amusement and half pity at the sight of the wet spot against Beomgyu’s jeans. He’s following your gaze, and if he could turn any redder, you’re sure he definitely would’ve; his ears burn.

Your hand is messy; his cum is still coated on your skin, sticky and incriminating as it sticks to your fingers and pools in between, a grimace twisting your face into a look of dismay as you stare down at the mess— before you can even think of what to do about it, Beomgyu is handing you a tissue.

His hand is shaky as he extends it out to you; your gaze is snapping up to meet his, only you’ve found that he can’t look at you at all— it seems as though the fog in his mind has already subsided and he’s realized what you’ve asked of him, lips pressed together and face still flushed as you finally take it from him. He turns away from you immediately, pulling his sweater over his lap and staring down at the disarray of textbooks and notebooks before him.

The silence is suddenly unbearable. You feel awkward as you wipe at your skin, even more so when you’re stuck with nothing but a soiled tissue and a hand that’s still undeniably dirty, the tension between you two now growing tenfold by the second as you finally decide that you should probably just go— it’s not like he’d be surprised by it anyway.

You’re opening your mouth to excuse yourself— to ignore the elephant in the room, to simply run away with a coy smile like you always do— but Beomgyu is beating you to the punch, and you can’t even hide the startled flinch your body does as he stands and begins to pack up hastily, shoving his materials into his book bag without a second glance to see if everything is perfectly aligned and neat.

You can only sit there and watch; it’s clear that your words seem to have gotten to him, and though you were expecting the awkwardness that would stem from it, you didn’t expect Beomgyu to be upset; your mind races to find reasons why, to try and wrap your head around why he would be feeling this way.

“I asked the professor how you were doing in the class, since you never seem to want to tell me,” Beomgyu finally says, breaking the tension and adjusting the materials in his bag to be just the way he likes it; he zips his bag shut in one aggressive swoop, and you can’t help the surprise on your face when he sends you a harsh glare.

“He says you’ve been improving greatly; said you were a good student from the very start, that you only needed to catch up on the materials.” he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder, pushing the chair in and taking a step back from your dumbfounded figure, “so it looks to me that you achieved your goal with our sessions.”

A moment passes— and your eyes widen slightly, catching on to what he’s trying to tell you, finding that you really want to deny the professor’s claims, even if they are true. But your pride impedes you from uttering a single word, knowing that it would kill you to try and coax Beomgyu to stay with you, to keep these study sessions going— and through this sudden urge, you catch yourself wondering why you would even want this to continue.

“I’m glad my help seemed to work— but it seems that you don’t even need it anymore,” Beomgyu finalizes what he needed to say, and you can see the way his shoulders practically sag from the relief of getting his thoughts across; his hand goes to tug his oversized sweater down, completely covering his lap and the mess you left— he grimaces softly.

“What? So that’s it?” is all you can say, watching his face harden at your words, “Just like that? What about me?”

His face twists up in anger— your words have struck a nerve, and suddenly, he’s remembering why no one wanted to tutor you in the first place.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” is all he says, taking another step back and increasing the distance between you two, “anyone would be willing to tutor you with the rate you like to offer.”

You both know what he really wants to say— just use your money on someone else to get what you want, like you always do. You find that you can’t really say anything to that. You remain silent.

Beomgyu turns around, and leaves; he doesn’t bother to say goodbye, and you’re left to watch his retreating figure, the hastiness of his pace and the way he continuously tugs his oversized sweater down over and over, even if it doesn’t move an inch.

That’s it, you tell yourself, leaning back against your chair, staring down at the display before you, at the notes you were actually taking, the work you were finally doing, you finally got what you wanted.

After a moment, the seat next to you is feeling a lot emptier than it did seconds ago; the room feels endless, as though you were left alone in this lonely labyrinth. Beomgyu’s words echo in your head, and you frown.

Is this what you wanted?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Beomgyu has kept his promise well; you haven’t seen him in weeks.

Not around campus, not around the dining halls, not even in the library, a place you’ve found yourself actually attending regularly— not even in the only class you shared— and it seems as though he’s vanished off the face of the Earth.

You’ve found yourself thinking about him more often than you’d like; wondering if he’s okay, if he’s off at one of his many jobs again, if he’s resting— it makes you shiver with disgust every time you catch yourself, grimacing at the idea that you would even find yourself worried about him— and while you tell yourself that you’ve finally gotten rid of one of your biggest burdens, you can still feel the nagging feeling to talk to him every time you see his contact in your phone.

“Did you finally get him off your trail?” Yunjin asks you one day, when you’re busy checking the due dates for this week’s assignments online, making a mental schedule of what to work on first as you leave your food untouched; her words are snapping you out of your trance, looking up at her with a gaze that screams I wasn’t listening, what?

“Your little plaything— the loser guy?” she drawls, watching your face carefully, taking your small reaction as a sign that you’ve caught on, “did you finally shake him off?”

“I— yeah, I did,” you say apathetically, letting out a soft tsk as you’re looking back at your laptop, “finally.”

“Wow, look at you,” Yunjin awes, seeing the way your brows furrowed in concentration and you have yet to eat, too immersed in your course load to roll your eyes at her clear, mocking tone, “looks like he really did a number on you— I didn’t know you used your laptop for anything other than shopping.”

“Yunjin, come on,” you sigh, jaw clenching as you suddenly don’t find yourself in the mood for her teasing, “I mean, I know I’ve been slacking really bad recently, but you know that’s not true.”

She doesn’t seem to take you seriously— then again, no one ever really does, a constant in your life that makes you jaw tick and your eyes mentally roll— and she laughs, shaking her head and pouting as though you were a thing to be pitied. You wonder how much of this is supposed to be friendly teasing.

“Yeah sure,” she sighs, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand and leaning over to look at your screen, “Don’t work too hard though, it might hurt your brain.”

You ignore her comment; Yunjin doesn’t seem to care about your silence, doesn’t bother to gauge your reaction as she continues to poke at yet another of her salads, pushing the contents around with her fork in boredom as she speaks up again.

“You know, hopefully he has the same effect on me.”

This gets your attention immediately. Yunjin is looking at you with surprised eyes that feign innocence, raising a confused brow at your narrowed eyes.

“What do you mean by that,” you ask slowly, attempting to keep your tone indifferent as you speak.

Yunjin shrugs, as though what she was about to tell you next wasn’t of any importance— and it really shouldn’t be, but you still can’t ignore the way it makes your body feel like you’ve been shocked with a wave of electricity.

“I mean, your little tutor seemed to be such a good influence so…” she stabs at her salad lazily, bringing up the fork to her lips before she’s sending you a small smile. “I thought I’d give him a try.”

You bristle quite visibly at that; your mind is running a million miles an hour, wondering where this sudden idea is coming from, being friends with Yunjin for longer than you can remember as your mouth begins to run before you can stop it.

“You said your parents have tried to set you up with multiple tutors— the best in the country,” you say, brows knitted together as Yunjin simply shrugs her shoulders, raising her brows as if to say and? “You said you’d rather die than to get tutored— you said it was a waste of time.”

“Yeah… but…” Yunjin shrugs again, and you wonder how much of this is just an impulse from her as she continues, “I don’t know, my parents are on my ass again about giving me a tutor, and I don’t wanna deal with all those stuck up pricks they send to me.”

She admits her true motives with her next words.

“And I don’t know… he’s kinda cute?” she says, laughing like a schoolgirl who was embarrassed to admit a crush, “In like, a pathetic kinda way— and now that he’s done tutoring you, I’m sure he has a slot that opened up.”

Your mind is spiraling with things to say to her; you want to tell her to stay away from Beomgyu, to not try to mess with him— tell her that he’s a loser that isn’t worth her time, a nerd with an obsession with a lame game and the owner of a creepy bird— but you catch yourself, biting your tongue and taking in the way Yunjin simply looks at you expectantly; as though waiting for your embarrassing outburst, you realize.

With a scoff, you’re slamming your laptop shut— Yunjin flinches in surprise.

“I’m sure one did— I’m leaving,” is all you say, knowing that nothing would change, even if you tried anything. Yunjin scrambles to try to get you to stay, but all attempts fall short— you tell her there’s an exam you need to study for, and she sighs in defeat.

“You’re coming to the party this Saturday, at least?” she says, clearly annoyed at your sudden sensitivity, at your sudden change in attitude, “you promised you would.”

Your mind is attempting to remember what she could be talking about— then you’re finally remembering the event she spontaneously planned a few weeks back, telling you that she hasn’t seen everyone together in one place in so long— and while you found yourself agreeing excitedly back then, you don’t have much energy to do so now. But Yunjin is staring at you expectantly, raising a brow at your silence, and you find that there’s really not much of a choice for you. (There is, but you know there’d be consequences if you chose wrong.)

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Perfect!” she beams, eyes crinkling and her hands clasping together happily, as though there was no previous tension between you at all mere moments before, “I’ll see you then.”

You merely nod, turning around and taking your food to the nearest trash can— you weren’t really hungry, anyway.

You can feel Yunjin’s eyes pinpointed on you the whole way out.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You’ve always loved parties.

You loved to dress up, make yourself look pretty and catch the eyes of everyone with your pretty dresses and makeup done to perfection; loved the attention that came with it, the way you could let loose for once and not worry about your image, drinking and feeling your body become loose, mind finally being allowed to forget about any worries you had.

You were known to be a social butterfly; the pretty airhead that couldn’t stop talking once you got her started— always the life of the party, never one to cling to the wall and stare at the dance floor wistfully.

Standing before the beach house of Yunjin’s parents, one they didn’t use as much as they once did when Yunjin was only a little girl with an affinity to the sea, you begin to wonder where that part of you has gone.

You feel dreadfully out of place. You haven’t even gone inside yet.

Music is blasting and the windows are dark, save for the bright neon lights that come from an unknown source; Yunjin has always been a sucker for that club vibe, anyway. You want to go in, want to walk inside and pretend like it’s nothing, but this time, you can only stand at the bottom of the steps and tug your dress down a little more. You feel like a prude.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself— one in, one out, your chest rising and falling slowly as you try calm your racing pulse— and with a silent okay of reassurance to yourself, you will your body to begin its trek up the steps.

The door is unlocked; it’s not like you needed to knock to get in, anyway— only those with an invite even knew this party was happening. The place isn’t packed— nor is it meant to be— but it’s a bit crowded at least, filled with familiar faces for the most part; all people you grew up with or around, sons and daughters of influential families that grew to be nothing but partiers and troublemakers. In other words, your usual crowd.

There are some exceptions to these guests, however. People you’ve seen around campus, student athletes with a scholarship and business majors that have already found themselves internships to the companies others in the room are a part of— and it seems that no matter how much everyone here tries to pretend and deny, they can never really separate their personal lives from the responsibilities passed down to them at birth.

Your first instinct is to beeline it to the kitchen; in other words, to the makeshift bar Yunjin always sets up, an impressive display of alcohol and even a hired bartender making drinks left and right— you immediately ask for two jello shots, something Yunjin always made for herself and in extension, you, not in the mood for anything stronger as you opt to get this nervous energy out of you instead; you proceed to get two more a second after, just out of habit.

You should find Yunjin; let her know you’re here, make sure she doesn’t try to scold and bitch at you for promising to go to her party only to end up ditching— you’re sure she’d never believe you unless she saw you with her own eyes.

The kitchen is empty. The makeshift dance floor seems to be empty as well, spending a few minutes scouring the place and shrugging off any passing advances; with a heavy sigh, you decide that you should check upstairs, just in case, ready to make your way up before a rough hand is grabbing at your elbow and tugging you back; the smell of alcohol greets you before Yunjin can.

“You actually came!” Yunjin yells over the music, her face flushed from the alcohol and her balance off as she stumbles slightly; you make a quick move to catch her, eyes drifting down before you’re catching sight of the uncomfortable heels she dons— meeting her gaze once more, she pouts.

“I don’t even know why I wore these,” she groans, running a hand through her auburn hair, watching the way it falls back into place perfectly— she then proceeds to scan over your own outfit, letting out a sound of awe as she smiles, “you look great! Pretty as always.”

She’s muttering something else, but you can’t really hear it over the sound of the music; eventually, you find your eyes drifting away to the dancefloor, wondering if there’s anyone else you could recognize— your eyes lock with a particular, infamous athlete’s, one that you’ve been dying to get with since the beginning of the semester— and you’re suddenly thankful for the buzz the jello shots provided you, Yunjin eventually following your gaze and cheering at the realization of what you were planning.

She’s pushing you forward before you can even think things through; the man with dark hair simply smiles at you, coy eyes beckoning you closer— and with a deep breath, you decide to let go of any worries you had and go back to being your airheaded, carefree self— even if just for a moment.

“Hey,” he says simply, a hand going to rest on your waist; the music is much too loud for you to converse properly, but you don’t really seem to mind as you allow yourself to get lost in the rhythm instead— that, and because your tipsy brain has forgotten his name, and the low lights that obscure his face aren’t exactly helping either.

But it seems as though he was thinking the exact thing; he’s leaning down to ask the exact question you were wondering into your ear, deep voice and pouty lips that brush against the shell of your ear making you shiver— you’re muttering your name into his ear, tilting your head toward him to allow him to do the same.

Yeonjun. Your head seems to clear for the moment.

“Looks like we finally meet,” he grins, still close to your face in order for you to be able to hear him; your face twists up in confusion, and he laughs softly before continuing. “You’re just as pretty as I’ve been told— my friend talks a lot about you. You’re trouble, hmm?”

“Your friend?” is all you can say in response, placing a hand against his chest and leaning in closer, the music muddling his words slightly; his hand continues to hold you steady, and the two of you continue to sway to the rhythm.

“Yeah,” he laughs, staring at your face that’s twisted up in obvious confusion, “My roommate, Beomgyu? I heard he tutored you for a bit.”

His name is enough to clear your head entirely, as though a bucket of ice water has been poured over your body and drenched your figure.

“He— he told you about me?” you ask, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so pathetic, for feeling so curious as you stare at Yeonjun with undeniably hopeful eyes; instead, all you get is another amused laugh from him.

“Are you kidding? You practically traumatized him!” he jokes, though you don’t find yourself laughing along to that, lips twitching and a frown threatening to take over your features, “You’d think he was scared of you from the way he talked about you.”

You don’t respond to that; you’re not sure how you would respond to that anyway, letting out a weak laugh and falling silent as you look over his shoulder and fall back into the beat of the song— but it seems as though Yeonjun is too drunk, and frankly, unaware to take in your reaction, because he’s leaning into your ear and murmuring words that strike the final blow into your heart.

“He’s here, actually— Yunjin and him really seem to be hitting it off. Didn’t think he had it in him”

You chose to bite your tongue, biting back a bitter comment about how he really doesn’t have it in him to woo someone like Yunjin. But Yeonjun is too amused by his own comment to pick up on the sudden sourness of your mood, mouthing the lyrics to whatever’s playing and guiding your hips with a hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he sends you a wink. But you’re too shaken by this sudden news that you no longer feel the need to play along, much less try to hook up with him tonight. Now that you think about it, the once superficially important goal of chasing after the athlete before you had been pushed down the list of your priorities long, long ago.

“‘M gonna get a drink,” you mutter miserably, pushing against Yeonjun’s chest and ignoring the way he immediately begins to complain, untangling yourself from his grip as you leave with one final, half-hearted sorry!

Screw jello-shots, you think to yourself, stumbling back to the kitchen with sore feet, I need something stronger.

Something stronger comes in the form of a mysterious drink you let the bartender make for you; you didn’t exactly keep track of the ingredients he listed off to you, simply nodding instead when he asked if that’s what you wanted— if you think it’s strong enough, you replied with a smile, choosing to ignore the hesitant nod he gave you in return.

The speed at which you downed the drink was enough to have the bartender at your side with a water and a warning look— you ignored it, of course, drinking the water with a slight pout, only bothering to drink half before you were back to the dancefloor; maybe you could distract yourself with Yeonjun for a while, you think.

But any plans to track down the said man come to a glaring halt the moment you’re stepping out the kitchen; your eyes widen, surprised expression mirroring Hueningkai’s as he stands before you— his eyes scan over your figure, running back up and stopping at your hazed eyes and flushed face, the slight sway in your movement helping everything click in his mind; you’re a few drinks away from getting utterly wasted, and it seems as though that’s the path you’re getting ready to take.

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Hueningkai says, watching your face scrunch in confusion, taking a step forward to hear him better, “Thought you’d be too busy doing another study date to come.”

“Shut up,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and scoffing at the implications of his words, “And why do you care? I’m surprised you’re not fucking a random girl in Yunjin’s bathroom right now.”

“I tried,” Hueningkai rolls his eyes, smiling in that obnoxiously smug way as he watches you frown. He leans in, placing a hand on the doorway and above your head as he reaches out to grab your waist; tugging you close to him, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he mumbles quietly, “but she wasn’t anywhere as good as you.”

“You’re gross,” you glare, leaning back as you let your lips upturn in disgust, already knowing what he’s implying— asking of you— with a simple look at his face. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Are you still mad?” Hueningkai asks, beginning his chase even after you’ve successfully escaped his clutches, ignoring him with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms and make your way out to the living room, “you never even told me what was wrong, you just ran away and kept bitching at me.”

You huff; it doesn’t seem like Hueningkai will give up anytime soon, so you’re whirling around and sending him a pointed glare as you finally give him the closure he so desperately keeps asking for.

“I did tell you what was wrong,” you start, clenching your jaw at the way he immediately opens his mouth to refute that, “you treat me like nothing more than a fuck buddy, acting as though we weren’t actually friends before that! All you do is make me feel worthless, then you have the audacity to turn around and play the victim?! Like seriously, Hueningkai, is this all you see me as? A body to fuck?”

Hueningkai began asking you to keep it down the moment you felt yourself get riled up; volume rising, face heating up, you ignored him, ignored the odd looks you got from others, deciding that since the man before you wanted to hear your thoughts so badly, you’d let it all out.

“We used to be friends. We grew up together!” you say, feeling ridiculous for continuing to grieve the past, the days where things weren’t so complicated and all you felt for Hueningkai was a harmless crush. “I can’t believe I let you use me like this, just because I thought I liked— god, I’m so stupid.”

You don’t give him a chance to retaliate; you’re turning around and ready to weave your way through the faceless people and go outside, only making it halfway before Hueningkai is grabbing at your elbow and asking you to wait. His persistence garners yet another roll of your eyes.

“You what? Hang on, what was that last part?” he asks, trailing behind you and desperately asking for an answer— because of course he would hone in on that part. You continue to ignore him, tugging your arm out his hold and beginning to push through the crowd at the dancefloor— seriously, how many people did Yunjin invite? You seem to have severely underestimated the capacity of this place.

“You— did you like me? Do you like me?” Hueningkai’s last attempts to get something, anything from you are childish and do nothing but make your stomach churn, “Come on, we can talk this out, be mature about it— I can fix things, I can make it up to, yeah? Hey, don’t bail on me now—”

“Enough!” you yell, getting yet another round of side glances and strange looks from others; listening in like always, pretending horribly to be ignorant to it all.

You’re right before the doorway; so close, yet you know that if you leave now, Hueningkai will continue to follow and pester you— so as horrible as the timing is, you realize with a heavy feeling that now is your chance to do what you’ve been debating on for so long.

“Please, I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say, your words weak as you look right into his eyes— and everything surfaces into your mind once more, the innocent hope you once had of stealing his heart one day, “Let’s just end this— everything.”

The words feel familiar on your tongue, only this time, you realize that this is the person you should’ve directed this message to in the first place.

“We don’t know each other,” you say, jaw clenched at the way it takes Hueningkai a second to process things due to the music that tries to drown you out— you still catch onto the exact moment where it all registers in his head, eyes widening and mouth opening to protest— but you beat him to it, not giving him another opportunity to try and haphazardly fix thing, albeit momentarily. Your eyes meet his, and your heart wrenches upon seeing that he’s more annoyed than hurt.

“Don’t talk to me— we’re strangers now.”

The final blow is like a weight that is immediately taken off your shoulders; you reach to open the door and slip out. This time, Hueningkai doesn’t follow.

The air is cool on your face and a nice contrast to the stuffy air inside the house. Slowly, you make your way to the corner of the porch fence, stumbling over due to the soreness of your feet and the alcohol that still runs through your system. So many emotions course through you, seemingly wanting to bring about a wave of nostalgia and sadness, lingering feelings for the man you’ve just let behind— but you won’t allow yourself to cry over him, scoffing instead at the way you allowed yourself to foolishly bend over backwards for him for so long.

“Wow,” you hear a voice say, not bothering to look back as you immediately recognize who it is; Yunjin joins you, leaning against the fence and craning her head forward to properly survey you— you don’t bother looking at her, even more so when she finally continues,“That was harsh back there.”

You sigh. Because of course Yunjin heard that, and of course she’s the one to bring it up immediately after.

“Didn’t think you’d actually cut him off— I thought you’d always be like, head over heels, hopelessly in love with him— like a little girl, you know? You never seemed to grow out of him.” You glare at her, but continue to remain silent; she laughs, throwing her head back at the sight, only to wobble back slightly from the sudden motion.

“Oh come onnnnn, you know it’s true!” she coos, proceeding to poke at you teasingly and twist her voice to sound like you, “Huening called me pretty. Huening bought me the purse I really wanted. Huening wants me to go with him to dinner with his parents. Huening Huening Huening—!”

Her laugh is obnoxious, even after you’ve hissed at her to be quiet; she continues to mock you under her breath, drunkenly quoting things she overheard from your outburst, and you realize with a disappointed sigh that she definitely won’t be stopping soon.

“Heyyy, don’t get all sensitive on me now!” she whines, grabbing your hand and tugging you back when you attempt to leave; it doesn’t work, and you merely tug yourself out her grip, not even bothering to respond to her cries to stay.

Yunjin pauses her dramatics the moment you’re turning and leaving, scoffing at the way she offhandedly apologizes, words slurring together as she says that she’s sorry if you feel offended! You’re shaking your head at that, making your way back to where the stairs are, glancing back at the home one last time— and you’re freezing for a second when you meet Beomgyu’s gaze, the boy wide eyed and awkward as he stands at the doorway. Behind you, Yunjin cheers drunkenly.

“Beomie! Hey, could you tell her to stop being so dramatic? Like come on, I’m just trying to have fun,” Yunjin’s rambles are left unacknowledged by you both, and you finally find strength within you to walk away after a second; it’s not like you and Beomgyu had anything to talk about, anyway.

Behind you, Yunjin calls for Beomgyu to go to her and give her attention; her pleas fade from your ears and you’ve finally made it onto the beach, pulling out your phone and fumbling through your contacts before you’re finally ordering an Uber to pick you up instead— it was too late in the night for you to bother your driver.

The closest driver will be here in fifteen minutes; you’ll spend those fifteen minutes sitting before the ocean, clothes riddled with sand and body still sobering up slowly, your shoes placed to the side as you dip your legs into the water— fifteen minutes of silence, allowing you to ponder if these people are really the ones you’ve chosen to affiliate with for half your life.

You’ve become so entranced with the white noise of the waves that you couldn’t pick up on the approaching footsteps of another; it isn’t until the said person is sitting at your side that you’re finally snapping out of your trance.

Beomgyu settles down beside you without a word. You watch him for a second, taking in his appearance— he must’ve been dragged here, if anything, his attire not straying from the usual sweaters and jeans— and you look away, staring back out into the horizon as silence continues to drag down between the two of you.

“You’re not sensitive,” Beomgyu suddenly says, his voice so quiet and hesitant you almost missed it, “Or dramatic.”

You laugh humorlessly.

“I know.”

“You deserve to feel wanted,” Beomgyu adds, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, taking in your troubled expression and distant gaze, “...And, your friends are all assholes.”

“...I know.”

It’s quiet. You’re staring down at your feet, at the waves that slowly make their way up your shins before they retreat. Tonight made everything clearer than ever— why did you ever bother to associate with those people? Family and social status was the answer, but as you sit on the beach and away from the rowdy, ruthless crowd, you realize that you feel much more comfortable where you are.

“No one ever takes me seriously,” you say suddenly, staring at the ground and tracing shapes into the sand, “I mean, I never really gave them reason to; it was all just fun and games at first— since I was a girl, I mean. Everyone thought that because I was so obsessed with superficial things that I just didn’t have anything going on in my head, and I guess that was enough to let me become a joke to everyone. A pretty airhead who just thinks about makeup and clothes and purses.”

“I mean, I worked hard to get to where I’m at, y’know? There’s more to me than just that. I won’t deny that my parents and their wealth helped get me a lot, and I certainly won’t deny that I seriously slacked this semester, but I— I don’t know, I just wish people wouldn’t take the shit I say and do like an absolute cosmic joke sometimes; that everyone I know and surrounded myself with wasn’t so superficial and fake.”

Your mouth just began running without you realizing it, forcing you to spill everything that’s been weighing on your mind; you don’t even bother stopping yourself, refusing to glance at the boy beside you as you continue.

“And you wanna know what the worst part is? For a while, I started to believe what they thought of me, started to play into it if it meant them… liking me more. Ugh, that sounds so pathetic, seriously. I need to get it together.” You roll your eyes, tossing your head back as you scold yourself midway through your rambling, “I thought that if I acted all cute and stupid, if I just molded myself into what they liked, they… he would choose me. Would decide to keep me around for more than just a fuck. Would reciprocate years and years of pining and pretending to be cool with him fucking around with other people— all while he got all sulky if I even mentioned other guys.”

Silence. You go quiet for a moment, hand stilling for a moment, brows knitting together as you stare at the mess you’ve made in the sand; Beomgyu opens his mouth to say something, but is swiftly cut off by the sight of you sitting up straight abruptly.

“But I’m worth more than that, y’know? I deserve to have someone take it slow with me, to like me for who I am, to really take me seriously. Even if I act ridiculous sometimes.” You sigh, your lips twitching in a soft smile as you finally look up from the mess in the sand and at Beomgyu; his eyes meet yours, doe-like and wide as always. You laugh at his expression, and his face heats up at the sight.

“God, I’ve been really insufferable, huh?” you laugh, looking away from him the moment you felt your heart beating a bit faster, “I just never shut up, I’ve been told it’s really annoying— I didn’t mean to dump that all on you like that.”

“It’s alright,” Beomgyu says hastily, biting at his lip and averting your gaze as he continues, “I like listening to you talk.”

Your eyes widen and his words echo through your mind, bouncing off the walls and repeating the message over and over. I like listening to you talk.

Your mind seems to have entirely blanked out at that; how do you even respond? All you know is that your body seems to heat up entirely after a second, shivers running through your spine as you attempt miserably to find something to say, something that’ll probably shatter the mood entirely— but you can’t, and you’re stuck in a silence that grows tense as minutes pass.

The ding of a notification sounds from your phone; the two of you are looking down at the screen that lights up, and you immediately scramble to leave the moment you read that your car is here.

“I— I have to go,” you say lamely, wincing at your accidental stutter; you don’t give Beomgyu a chance to say anything more, wiping the sand off your clothes and giving him a half-hearted wave goodbye. “See ya.”

If anyone accused you of running away like a coward, you wouldn’t even bother to deny such claims— because it’s true, and you all but sprint away in order to get out of Beomgyu’s sight, eyes frantically sweeping over the street until you finally spot your Uber, sending a small wave and getting inside quickly.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say sheepishly, glancing down at your shoes that tracked in remnants of sand; slowly, the car begins to move, and you’re staring out the window and watching Yunjin’s beach house pass by— in the very distance, your eyes catch onto Beomgyu, who remains sitting still by the shore.

Your mind echoes his words to you, and you’re failing miserably to push down the way your stomach seems to be filled with a flurry of butterflies, the way your face heats up and a smile threatens to break through your face.

Fuck, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you’ve only felt something this intense one other instance, many years ago.

Fuck.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

It’s been a few weeks since Yunjin’s party; a few weeks since you stopped talking to her, a few weeks since you dropped all your snobby friends you only made for connections, a few weeks since you finally broke things off with Hueningkai.

A few weeks since you realized that you might see Beomgyu as more than just a nerdy, pathetic loser.

You’ve found that you have a lot more free time these days; now that you’re no longer worried about attending worthless cocktail parties or going golfing to help Yunjin impress a CEO’s son who she’s had her eye on for days, you’ve found that your life has become a lot more peaceful— or rather, boring.

Your social life is nonexistent; what else did you expect, after cutting off practically everyone you knew? You’ve become a homebody, much more focused on your work and finding more mundane hobbies— your grades have never looked better.

Avoiding Yunjin and anyone associated with her was simple; it was nothing, passing by her and pretending like you two never knew each other, like the two of you weren’t once attached by the hip. It never phased you to be in the same room as her, not even batting an eye when she found herself sitting a table away from you in the dining halls.

You just wish you could say the same about Beomgyu.

God, what the hell has gotten into you? You’ve become a fumbling, ridiculous mess, not even able to look him in the eye when you spot him in the halls, in the library, in cafes; your body heats up and words get stuck in your throat whenever he’s so much as close in proximity, always finding a way to flee as soon as possible— you don’t even bother being inconspicuous anymore.

It was apparent to anyone who knew you that this behavior was a complete switch from your usual self— cocky, flirty, bold— and Beomgyu, who had to spend hours on end with you, knew that better than anyone.

He’s able to spot your odd behavior immediately. Though unfortunately for him, he’s unable to come to a proper conclusion as to why you may be acting like that, and simply decides that you must be holding up your promise still; the promise to act like complete strangers, that is.

Beomgyu frowns, staring at your back as you stand in line at the cafe across the campus library; you’re rigid, as though turning around and acknowledging the man behind you could kill you. Did you really hate him that much? He thought he made progress back at Yunjin’s party, your moment of vulnerability allowing him to see you in a completely new light— because after a moment of thought, after you fled the scene with an awkward wave and an empty smile, Beomgyu began to think; he really didn’t know anything about you. He didn’t even know your major.

All he knew about you were superficial things— and Beomgyu found himself oddly irritated by the thought, wondering if he was any better than the very people you were complaining about; it weighed his mind, finding himself prattling off to Yeonjun about it one day, laying on the couch and petting Toto absentmindedly as he stared up at the ceiling.

“She’s an architecture major,” Yeonjun said from the kitchen, looking up from the stove and meeting Beomgyu’s surprised gaze, “Yunjin told me once that she’s been working to try and get an internship at her father’s company— starting from the bottom up and everything. Heard it’s super competitive over there.”

You were a lot more hardworking and studious than Beomgyu— or anyone, really— gave you credit for. And as he watched you recite your order to the cashier, something so convoluted that the boy wondered if it was even good, he found himself wanting to learn more about you. You stood off to the side, staring down at your phone with a concentrated pout, and he wondered if he should bite the bullet and finally attempt talking to you.

Just as Beomgyu was mustering up the courage to say something, just as he was about to open his mouth, your name was called and you picked up your drink with a swiftness he’s never seen before, making your way out and passing Beomgyu in the blink of an eye. He’s left waiting for his drink long after, snapped out of his reverie by a text notification.

Huh Yunjin:

im at the library rn r u coming ??

dont keep me waiting :(

Beomgyu sighs, and trudges his way to the library with a pout; the feeling is reminiscent, but he can’t help but find himself thinking that it was you he was studying with instead. He spots Yunjin’s bright head of orange hair instantly, eyes glued to her phone and brows knitted together in a soft frown— and though Beomgyu apologized for being late and asked her to start without him, she didn’t seem to bother to even get her materials out.

Internally, Beomgyu finds himself rolling his eyes— But he’s masking that with a soft clear of his throat, his calm voice asking Yunjin to get her textbook out so they can start their session— and she finally looks up from her phone, bright eyes filled with confusion before she smiles sheepishly.

“Oh right, the textbooks,” she murmurs, looking over at the seat next to her where she’s placed her bag, then across where Beomgyu sits; his eyes widen at the sight of her collecting her things, standing up and rounding the table before she sits next to him— before he can question what he’s doing, she scoots her chair closer to him, shoulders touching as she sends him an innocent smile. “I… forgot mine… you don’t mind if we share, right? You said you took this class last semester.”

Beomgyu can’t contain the way he lets out an exasperated breath; he pulls out his laptop, pulling up his digital copy as he mentally complains about how unprepared and demanding Yunjin always seemed to be— he can’t remember the last time she actually brought her own supplies; if anything, Beomgyu was sure she hadn’t even bought her required texts.

And as he scrolls through the index in search of the needed chapter, he feels Yunjin leaning in closer; all under the guise of seeing the screen better, but Beomgyu knows better than to believe that her intentions are all innocent. And despite Beomgyu’s multiple attempts to scoot away from her, he quickly finds himself trapped by the girl again, frowning at the way she laughs at everything little thing he says and tugs at his sleeve when she’s confused about something.

For a moment, Beomgyu wonders if she might actually be hitting on him— but he soon catches onto the way she peeks over his screen after each attempt to be touchy, how she glances in the same direction after every soft coo of that same nickname that makes him wince— and he follows the path of her gaze eventually, not entirely surprised at what he sees; if anything, it helps everything click together.

Beomgyu spots you sitting two tables away, face twisted up in concentration and headphones obstructing your ears, head bobbing rhythmically as you scribble things on your notebook, glancing back at your laptop’s screen ever so often; he catches sight of numbers and equations, and he realizes that you must be working on math homework.

Without realizing, he’s found himself staring at you; this side of you that he never saw much, private and calm and hardworking, the image you said you wished others saw in you— and, as though you could feel it, you’re looking up from your work, meeting Beomgyu’s eyes instantly and watching as he flusters and looks away; your eyes then fall onto the girl who has him backed into the corner of the table, who leans into him and glances over you with a slight quirk of her lips— she sends you a small wave, then turns back to Beomgyu, calling out his name softly.

Undeniably curious, you lower the volume of your music slightly— you didn’t expect Yunjin to actually go through with her plans of getting Beomgyu to tutor her, and much less her lasting this long— you’re bringing up a hand to your head as subtly as you can, moving the right side of your headphone away from your ear slightly and allowing yourself to listen in to whatever it is they talk about.

While Beomgyu attempts multiple times to tutor her and teach her materials, Yunjin can’t seem to stop steering away in a completely different direction; asking him entirely unrelated questions, blatantly flirting and acting coy as she pulls at his sweater everytime he seems hesitant to answer— the sight is slightly amusing, but you can’t deny the way it makes you wince with annoyance.

“Today’s your day off, right?” Yunjin asks eventually, smiling widely when he nods, albeit hesitantly, “Great! You know how you said you’d take me to dinner if I got a good score on my test?”

You hear the sound of Yunjin’s nails clicking against a screen; undoubtedly searching for something, the soft mutters of Beomgyu’s you were the one who struck up the deal, making you bite your tongue in a desperate attempt to remain inconspicuous; from the corner of your eye, you’re able to catch the way the said boy glances over at you.

“Well… ta-da!” Yunjin squeals happily as she shoves the phone into Beomgyu’s face, allowing him to see her results for the said test. Beomgyu hums absentmindedly at the sight.

“Your place at seven?” Yunjin grins, poking his shoulder teasingly; Beomgyu doesn’t answer, but she chooses to take that silence as a yes. “Great! I have to go actually; promised my girls I’d have brunch with them— you understand, right?”

Instead of fumbling with his words and asking her to not leave so abruptly, Beomgyu simply nods and hums a soft uh-huh. The sight is enough to have Yunjin scoffing, slinging her purse on her shoulder and reaching over to grab Beomgyu’s chin— she tugs it and makes him face her, the action so sudden that his eyes widen drastically— and she smiles, squishing his cheeks teasingly and pouting at his distant behavior.

“Don’t get all pouty with me— I’ll see you soon ‘kay?” before Beomgyu can even process anything, Yunjin leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling her lipstick transfer onto his skin— he’s slightly dazed, reaching up immediately to place a hand over the spot, staring at Yunjin with furrowed brows; she simply laughs and waves at him one final time, practically skipping out from how giddy she seemed.

From a distance, you watch Beomgyu quietly reach for his bag, his expression blank as he pulls out a tissue and his phone; you watch him use his front camera as a mirror, wiping at the lipstick with a soft frown.

From a distance, you laugh to yourself— the distaste that appears on his face is obvious to you, and you can’t help but shake your head at Yunjin’s ridiculous behavior; god, was that what you looked like whenever you would bail on him mid-session? The very thought was terribly humbling to you.

Yunjin’s attempts to get back at you by using Beomgyu were more than obvious; you think back to her actions, the way she blatantly flirted with him, the plans she suddenly tacked on him— on his day off, not to mention— and you roll your eyes, deciding that you might as well put an end to all these dramatics; not just for your sake, but for Beomgyu’s as well.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Beomgyu is groaning to himself the moment he hears a sharp knock on his door— the last thing he wanted to do on his day off was spend his time entertaining a girl who was clearly using him for some odd, petty reasons— but he got ready nonetheless, texted Yunjin his address hours prior after being told that her driver would come pick him up, (he hadn’t gotten a response in relation to that message, but she’ll probably see it soon) and waited patiently on the couch, albeit much earlier than the proposed plans.

Another sharp knock— Beomgyu wishes he had some proper excuse for her, told her that he already had plans with his roommate, but the said man was off on his shift already— he trudges over to the door, twisting the doorknob with a heavy reluctance, and sighs. He braces himself as he swings open the door to greet Yunjin with a halfhearted smile.

“Hey,” you pant instead, leaning against the doorway and ignoring his confused— and shocked— expression, “I— am I late? I thought I was early, did you get ready early?”

You gulp; since when could Beomgyu clean up so nicely? He’s forgone his usual, comfortable and casual outfits in favor of a perfectly pressed button up and a clean hairstyle— Yunjin must’ve planned to take him to quite the expensive place, you think to yourself.

“Of course you’d be the type to get ready an hour early,” you mutter bitterly to yourself, the comment enough to have the said man glancing at the nearest clock in confusion— and just like you said, a bright six o’clock greeted him on the digital clock.

“You— what’re you doing here?” Beomgyu stutters pathetically, unable to do much but relent to the way you step inside, closing the door behind him and turning around to face you, “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Yeah well, I lied.” you simply say, the words confusing the poor man even more, “I came to tell you to cancel your plans with Yunjin.”

“Can— huh?” he searches your expression for the traces of a joke, but finds that you’re dead serious. “Why would I cancel? That’s rude.”

“Jesus, can’t you see?!” You say exasperatedly, reaching out to place your hands on Beomgyu’s shoulders, fingers digging in so he can look at you— it’s only when he finally does that you continue. “She doesn’t want to do this— she’s using you. She’s doing this to get back at me.”

“But why would she…” Beomgyu utters, and you wonder with a roll of your eyes where that boy genius of yours went.

“Beomgyu,” you start, the sound foreign to the said boys ears as he blinks at you owlishly. You bite at your lip, brows furrowing at you think over what to say— you start again, but your words are hesitant and muddled. “She’s using you because she’s petty and because… because…”

He gives you a look encouraging you to continue.

“Because— god, are you really gonna make me say this?!” you break, letting go of his shoulders and taking a step back— your face feels like it’s on fire and your stomach feels like it’s been twisted into knots, your hands clammy as you glance over at Beomgyu again— and he looks at you with the most stupid, oblivious expression known to mankind.

You take a quick, deep breath, and you start again.

“Choi Beomgyu. She’s using you because I…” you say sternly, reaching over suddenly to grab his face, cupping his cheeks and taking in the way he becomes red at your touch. You bring him close to you, pressing your lips in a fine line and hesitating before you observe his face— and god, he looks so pathetic and lost that you don’t even seem to mind the way the next words tumble out of you, fluid and clear and true.

“Because I like you.”

Silence. You’re waiting anxiously in response, looking into Beomgyu’s eyes in anticipation, but all he does is stare. He stares and stares and stares, and for the first time in a while, you’re unsure of what to make of this reaction.

“And I’m not lying either.”

Still nothing. His skin is warming up under your fingertips, and his mouth opens hesitantly to say something, only to close again— he must still doubt you, so you decide to take a leap of faith and reassure him the only way you know how.

“I think you’re cute and kinda pathetic in an endearing way, I think that those glasses really compliment your face and make your eyes look super doll-like, and I don’t really mind Toto. I think he’s still a bit weird to look at but I love that you love him, and it makes total sense to me that out of all the pets you could’ve had you decided to get a big freaky green bird of all things, and I think it’s super cute that you’re attached to him— I think you look kinda hot when you get frustrated on a problem, and I think it’s really hard to hold myself back from kissing you when you start stuttering at me like an idiot— also, it’s really not that bad that you play League of Legends, and I can’t believe I’m gonna admit this, but I started playing it myself and it’s not that bad— but that’s not the point, what I’m saying is that you’re— you’re a nerd and a loser but I don’t mind because I really— fuck, I really like—”

His lips are mashing onto yours before you can process his sudden movement, rough and sloppy and desperate that all you can do is slide your hands into his hair and pull him closer; his hands wrap around you in response, one on the small of your back and the other against the back of your head as he pulls you closer still, close until your bodies are pressed flush together.

The two of you are so rough with your movements that he’s stumbling back, knocking against the wall and groaning softly at the impact; you’re sneaking your tongue into his parted lips, listening to the way he pants and moans against your mouth, slotting a leg between his and feeling as his thigh is quick to retaliate and press against your core.

“Mghh– ugh, fuck,” you moan mindlessly, feeling his hand press against the small of your back, forcing you to arch and push your weight onto his strong muscle, allowing yourself to rock against it desperately; your mind is running a million miles an hour, pulling away from his lips breathlessly and staring at the gloss that has transferred onto him; his eyes look dazed, lips parted and in need for more as he tries to lead your head back to his.

“Can’t believe she tried to use you against me,” you mutter, going back in to press quick, chaste kisses all along his face; he curls in shyly at the gesture, weakly grasping at your clothes as he feels the way you begin to trail them along his jaw, sucking and biting until you’re seeing the beginnings of marks that will bloom there, “shame it didn’t work— cause you’re all mine, right gyu?”

Like clockwork, he nods; his face heats up and he feels a bit ashamed at how quickly he’s melted under your hold, but any embarrassment is washed away the moment he feels your hand begin to fumble with his belt, clumsily undoing it before you’re moving to undo his jeans.

“Wait,” you breathe against his neck, feeling him shiver softly; he’s confused, whining softly at the sudden loss of touch until he’s watching as you pull away, glancing behind your shoulder before you’re meeting his eyes with a blank expression, “take me to your room.”

For a second, he’s confused about the sudden switch of your behavior— but then he’s looking over your shoulder and right at the direction you glanced at, a sudden laugh breaking through him when he spots Toto in the corner; sheepishly, he nods.

“Okay,” he says, smiling shyly at the way you reach out for the hand placed on the small of your back, intertwining your fingers so naturally it’s almost instinct, “yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

He watches you kick off your shoes and allows you to lead him straight to his room— he’s surprised you even remembered where it is— and smiles at the way you tug him closer by the collar the moment you step inside, palms pressing flat on his chest and making him walk backwards until his knees are hitting the edge of the bed— he falls back, hair splaying prettily on his sheets as he looks up at you with expectant, adoring eyes.

You’re straddling him immediately after; planting your core directly on his prominent bulge, taking in the way he lets out a broken whimper at the feeling of your heat pressing against him so well— his hands fly to your waist, fingers weakly digging into the meat of your hips as he attempts to subtly buck up into you; you tsk, shaking your head and leaning down to place a hand firm on his chest.

“Bad pup,” you say softly, hovering above his lips and watching as he desperately chases them, “You need to be patient, okay?”

He nods frantically, eyes fluttering shut the moment you press your lips against him slowly, feeling the way he desperately seeks to taste you— you allow him to, wandering hands beginning to unbutton his pristine white shirt slowly as he remains distracted.

Beomgyu is a lot more fit than you expected; lean muscle greeting you the moment you slip his shirt off his shoulders, leaning up to let him take it off and raking your nails down his skin— his stomach flinches at your nails scratch at it, and you smile childishly at the sight, the action reminiscent to the first time you got your hands on him.

“So pretty…” you mumble to yourself, tracing a path along his chest, down to his navel, watching as he shivers at your touch; a shaky gasp escapes his lips, hands grabbing at his sheets and eyes fluttering shut as he fights back the urge to buck up into you again— your eyes flicker up to study his expression, titling your head curiously as a smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re so pretty, Beomgyu,” you say again, leaning down to plant soft kisses along his neck, beginning to trail down until you’re at his chest— you’re able to watch the way his skin flushes a soft pink at your words, shy gaze averting quickly the moment you’re looking back up at him— and you laugh softly to yourself, hovering over his lap and trailing a hand down as you begin to undo his pants with ease.

“Y’know, I’ve never seen you so dressed up before,” you comment offhandedly, taking a moment to observe his pristine clothes, his styled hair— and your jaw clenches at the thought of Yunjin seeing him like this, an inkling of jealousy beginning to rear its ugly head the longer you think about it; you’re tugging at his pants, watching as his hips lift to help you tug them down more, and scoff at your wandering thoughts.

“Bet you would’ve loved to have her attention on you, hmm?” you say, beginning to roll your hips against his the moment he opens his mouth to protest— a sharp moan leaves Beomgyu instead, mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt grinding against his, the only thing separating the two of you being your thin panties and his boxers that are quickly becoming ruined; his eyes flicker down to where you continue to roll your hips, the sight of your skirt riding up and bunching up at your thighs enough to have his cock twitch.

“Just can’t control yourself when you’re with a cute girl— just can’t say no,” Beomgyu’s hips jump and he lets out a long whine at a particularly harsh roll of your hips, feeling his cock slot perfectly against your cunt, the material of your panties soaked and sticking to your pussy, able to feel you better the more pressure you add; his hands fly to your hips once more, but instead of trying to guide your pace, they simply remain there, grabbing at your skirt and fisting the material in his hands, flushed face and shining eyes begging silently for more.

“No— can’t, can’t say no— ah!” Beomgyu begins, unable to speak properly with the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of your warm cunt on his aching cock, “can’t say no to you… fuck…”

His words are enough to catch you off guard; your pace is stuttering and your eyes are widening, the brief pause enough to give Beomgyu enough confidence to continue— his eyes are glassy as he stares up at you, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles on your hips as he speaks.

“Could never say no to you…” he says softly, face reddening as he continues, “you’re too pretty to say no to.”

He doesn’t quite meet your gaze after that; he’s too shy to, but with the way you immediately begin to undress before him after a moment, he’s sure that he must’ve flipped a switch inside you.

“God, you’re so cute…” you mutter, throwing your shirt off in a random direction before you’re sliding your skirt off— and Beomgyu is growing flustered at the sight again, practically malfunctioning from seeing your body for the first time.

You’re left in only your underwear when you finally decide you’ve had enough of his shyness, grabbing his face with a firm hand and turning it to look back at you; your nails dig into his plush cheeks and his eyes grow wide at the gesture, meeting your eyes as you simply give him a coy smile and a peck to his lips.

“So pathetic too,” you continue, watching his adam’s apple bob at your condescending words, “I love it.”

You lean close to his ear; slowly, you take his hands and begin guiding them along your body, feeling the way his breath hitches and his chest begins to take shallow breaths, shaky fingertips grazing against your skin, up your biceps until you’re leading him to your back, straight to your bra strap.

“Undo it,” you murmur against the shell of his ear, able to listen to the way he gulps softly; nervous hands fiddle with the clasp, the way you place chaste kisses to the spot behind his ear not helping in the slightest— and after a moment, you’re finally able to feel the garment loosening around you, along with a soft sigh the boy lets out.

The straps slip off your shoulders slowly, and with a coy smile, you make a show of discarding your bra, sitting back and watching as Beomgyu’s face turns impossibly red; his eyes are wide and his hands are frozen, unsure of what to do as you simply huff at the sight— and your hands are taking his once more, guiding them slowly until he’s cupping your breasts; he gulps again, and you pout at the sight.

“Don’t you wanna touch me?” you pout, tilting your head and watching as the man underneath you remains reliant on your instructions to do anything; his eyes snap back up to meet yours at your words, shaking his head softly and opening his mouth to stutter protests.

“I– I do, I do,” he says, licking his lips nervously before looking back down at your breasts, thumbs experimentally swiping across your nipples; you shiver at the feeling, the sight of even your smallest reactions making Beomgyu’s cock ache, “I just… I’m not sure what to do….what you’d like.”

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, absentmindedly guiding his hands to touch and caress your breasts just how you like, your back aching slightly at the stimulation, “I can teach you.”

“Please,” Beomgyu whines out, hands finally beginning to move on their own as a smile grows on your face, watching the way looks at you with needy, fucked out eyes, “Please, wanna make you feel good.”

“Do you now?” you tease, titling your head and raising a brow at him questioningly; he nods his head fervently, eyes filled with an undeniably desire that leads him to take your body in hungrily, trailing from your chest down until he stops right at your cunt thats pressed so perfectly against him.

His line of sight is terribly obvious— though you don’t think it was Beomgyu’s intention to hide his desires anyway, not with the way your back is suddenly colliding against his bed, a gasp escaping you the moment you feel warm hands prying your legs open; you’re propping yourself up with your elbows, wide eyes meeting Beomgyu’s; the said man kneels on the floor and is now at eye level with your soaked cunt— his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, and with a soft laugh, you realize that Beomgyu is yet again waiting for further instructions.

“Can I taste you?” He asks meekly, eyes shining behind the lenses of his glasses, the sight endearing and a complete switch from the words that leave his mouth, “will you let me?”

Silence— all he gets in response is a slow sigh, the boy peeking through his lashes to get a gauge of your expression; he gulps at the sight of your narrowed eyes and pinched brows, mind undoubtedly thinking of scenarios that sour your mood— but the sight of you like this is much too tempting, and Beomgyu will be damned if he doesn’t get to lose himself in your pussy at least once; his cock pathetically twitches at the mere thought.

“I don’t know puppy,” you murmur, sneering at the way he pouts immediately, strong hands tugging at you and pulling you towards him more, body sliding at the movement— and though you can feel him breathe against your clothed cunt, he still refrains from doing anything, waiting loyally for your okay with pleading eyes.

“Do you think you deserve it?” you ask, throwing a leg over his shoulder, digging the heel of your foot in between his shoulder blades roughly— he practically keens at the feeling, a poorly stifled whimper escaping him, followed by a shaky sigh, “after seeing the way you’ll give anyone who approaches you all your attention like a slut, I don’t think you do.”

You make sure to punctuate your words with another dig of your heel, but Beomgyu remains unaffected— if anything, it manages to spur him on more, and you’re left to pretend as though his next actions don’t leave you terribly weak.

“Please…” he whispers, the sound so soft you barely miss it— he’s pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, lips lingering on the skin before he looks back up to meet your gaze; his eyes are glazed with nothing but need. The single word continues to leave him like a mantra, unable to do anything more than watch as he begins to litter kisses all over your inner thighs, soft begs slowly increasing their intensity the longer you deny him.

I deserve it, I do; please, please let me make you feel good, promise you’re the only one for me— please? Please, please please please…

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of Beomgyu’s broken, repetitive begging— his hair brushes against your sensitive skin that has been peppered with endless kisses, and if it weren’t for the way Beomgyu’s eyes were beginning to become watery from his desperation, you would’ve allowed yourself to enjoy the show a little more.

“You want it that much?” you seethe, a hand going down to tangle itself in his long hair— and, just as expected, he lets out a broken whine, followed with an immediate, breathy “yes” that affects you much more than you let on, “Go on then.”

You’re guiding his head to your cunt without another word, fingers still entangled tightly in the roots of his hair; he begins with a soft kiss to your cunt, the sight making you roll your eyes— for someone so eager, he sure was hesitant.

His tongue is hot and heavy against your clit; he’s running the tip of it along your slit, listening to the hitch of your breath and taking in every miniscule reaction you provide— he’s teasing you, albeit unintentionally, and the realization has you tightening your hold on his roots in warning; you feel the way he lets out a shaky breath at the action, and soon after, his fingers are tugging at the waistband of your panties, making slow work to properly take them off.

Beomgyu’s every movement is feather-like and hesitant; it’s clear he’s testing out the waters, unsure of what to do in order to please you— and while a part of you is endeared at the messy kitten licks of his tongue and the way he circles your clit sloppily, the other part of you seems to be feeling much more unforgiving— you’re tugging his hair and telling him to look at you with a harsh voice.

“What happened to wanting to please me? To deserving this?” you mock, lips quirking to a satisfied smile the moment his face heats up, ears tinting a soft red, “are you too much of a virgin to know how to eat a girl out?”

His face turns a bright red and he remains silent— you can only manage a bewildered laugh at the sight.

Of course, how did you not piece it together before? It seems as though you were much too generous to give him the benefit of the doubt before, because as you stare Beomgyu down with a gaze that’s nothing short of predatory, you’ve realized that his silence tells you more than enough; He’s a total virgin.

“Oh, you don’t know anything, do you?” you coo softly, letting go of Beomgyu’s scalp to caress his face softly, a grin threatening to break through your face from the simple sight of the man melting into your touch, “you need me to guide you through it?”

With a shaky sigh, Beomgyu nods— it barely takes a moment before you’re pushing at the back of his head and guiding him back to your cunt.

He didn’t bother to take off his glasses; you didn’t bother to remind him, smiling cruelly as you murmur soft instructions to him, telling him to suck on your clit or guiding his mouth to lick at your entrance, responding with soft sighs of pleasure whenever he does something particularly well; he’s sloppy, inexperienced, and undeniably nervous, but you suppose he makes up for its with his eagerness to do well as he continues, slowly taking note of what makes your hips buck and your fingers tighten against his hair— and after a few minutes, you’re no longer instructing Beomgyu step by step, but instead throwing your head back and letting your mouth fall open with unabashed moans.

Beomgyu’s eagerness is abundant and blatant. He’s pressing his face against your cunt after having gained confidence, mouth sloppy and hanging open as he allows you to grind against him, feeling his glasses slip down the tall bridge of his nose and fog up with every pant of breath— but he finds that he doesn’t really mind, eyes fluttering shut and lips circling around your clit as he hones in to the sounds you make instead.

You think Beomgyu’s head is completely empty at this point; his fingers dig into your thighs and he continues his attempts to bring you closer against his face, greedy mouth drinking up any arousal that slips from your entrance before he’s fucking you with his tongue— your hips buck unintentionally against him at that, and from the way he only increases his efforts even further, you think he might’ve enjoyed that.

“Beomgyu— puppy, fuck,” you hiss, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the way his nose is now pressed against your clit from how close he’s attempting to get to you. Your chest heaves and you can feel a tight knot forming in your stomach, body beginning to become restless as Beomgyu remains unfazed at your sudden squirming— you’re close, so close, and Beomgyu wants nothing more than to feel you fall apart against his face.

“Shit– right there, just like that— don’t stop, god, fuck—!” Your eyes are screwed shut as a sudden wave of pleasure breaks through you, your hand pulling at Beomgyu’s hair and your heel digging sharply into his back as you cum; the boy only lets out a pathetic whine at the feeling of you rolling your hips smoothly against his face, mouth left ajar and eyes fluttering shut as he lets you use him, riding it out with twitchy legs and soft moans.

Beomgyu only moves after your grip slips from his head entirely; your whole body is falling slack, a deep sigh escaping you as you attempt to catch your breath, eyes bleary and slowly opening after a moment— you’re able to watch as the said boy goes to stand, a weak hand of yours stopping his motion and grabbing at his shoulder— and you’re guiding him to hover over you, smiling coyly at the wrecked sight of him.

His glasses are completely skewed— a slight heat burns at your face from the sight, but it’s all washed away by the lopsided smile Beomgyu gives you, entirely unaware of his flushed and messy appearance; gently, you reach out to slip off his glasses, putting them off to the side as you reach to adjust his mused hair next— he merely watches your face with doe eyes as you brush his hair away gently, tucking it behind his ear before you cup his jaw, tugging him down to kiss you again.

“You’re sure you wanna do this?” you mumble against his lips, hands absentmindedly running along his skin soothingly, lips beginning to wander off as you trail soft pecks against his jawline, smiling at the way he doesn’t hesitate to nod, “you want it?”

“Need it,” Beomgyu whines, letting out a shaky breath as he grabs your hand, guiding it down his chest slowly, adding pressure once you’ve reached the bulge of his boxers— you can feel the way he twitches the moment you touch him, gulping softly before the continues to plead, “need it, need to feel you.”

His voice is sweet and soft in your ears, and you find that you can’t really bring yourself to put up a front and resist; it’s physically impossible to, especially with the way he ruts his cock against your hand, leaking pathetically and twitching at even the slightest stimulation.

Beomgyu’s attempts to remain calm and collected falls apart the moment you relent, face red and eyes wide with anticipation the moment he feels your hand go to pull his cock out; he falters above you for a split second, teeth sinking into his lip to suppress a whine that builds up in his throat. But his attempts are futile as always, a broken whimper leaving him the moment you press the head of his cock against your cunt, tightening around the shaft and proceeding to run it along your slit teasingly.

He’s practically panting above you, fingers gripping onto the sheets as he allows you to toy with him, eyes glassy and meeting yours as you simply coo mockingly at him, teasing him for being nothing but a toy for you to use.

The moment you press his tip against your entrance, the two of you tense; a shaky sigh escapes you at the stretch, looking up at Beomgyu and whispering for him to just put it in already; and he swallows, eyes watering at the feeling of him finally pushing into you— warm, wet walls that flutter around him, stretching and adjusting to his size; your hips that jolt with every inch he slides in, eyes widening and mouth falling open as you try to contain your composure— but his size is no joke, and curses leaves your mouth endlessly at the feeling of him filling you up.

“God— you’re so… so warm, so tight,” Beomgyu cries above you, hips stuttering and making him push himself deeper into you; a yelp escapes you at the feeling, hips pressed flushed against his as you stare up at him with wide eyes, cunt clenching at the anticipation of him fucking you.

But he simply remains still, and you’re just about to complain for him to move when you catch sight of his expression, screwed up into concentration as he lets out a deep breath— probably trying not to cum, you muse to yourself— and he sits up, no longer hovering over you as his hands move to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles on the skin as he looks down where the two of you connect; he looks up at you, puppy eyes begging for one thing.

“You— you can move,” you breathe out, cringing slightly at the weak sound of your voice, the way you trip over your words; Beomgyu nods, sighing shakily again before he finally begins to move, slowly pulling out until the only thing you feel is his tip catching at your entrance— then he thrusts back in, and you don’t bother to swallow down the moan that manifests from that.

Beomgyu isn’t faring any better than you; his brows are knitted together and his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips, voice pitchy and whiny as he attempts to fuck you properly— but his thrusts are sloppy and rough, and it seems as though he’s too concentrated on the feeling of you around him to find a good pace.

You’re opening your mouth to tease him about it, only to get cut off at the feeling of him bumping his cock against your sweet spot; a whine leaves you unexpectedly, the sound accompanied with the feeling of your legs attempting to wrap around his waist to pull him in enough to snap him out of his pussy drunk daze. He’s drinking up your expression, his pace slowing down enough to allow him to search for that spot again— it takes a few attempts, but once he catches onto it, he doesn’t relent.

“Sh–shit, just like that,” you whine, his thrust becoming more calculated as he begins to take note of what makes you feel good once more— though it’s still slightly sloppy and uneven, his weak pants and pitchy whines enough to tell you that his mind is much too hazy to care.

Absentmindedly, your hand snakes down to circle at your clit in search of more stimulation— only to get it knocked away roughly by Beomgyu’s, eyes widening at the action until he’s replacing you hand with his— and though you wish you could make fun of him for being such a desperate bitch, the stimulation has your voice getting caught in your throat.

“Does— does this feel good?” Beomgyu suddenly asks, puppy eyes watering and glazed as he picks up his pace, one hand gripping onto your waist while the other continues to rub your clit, “Am I– ah… am I doing good?”

You almost miss the last part with how softly he says it— but once you process his question, you let out a breathy laugh, biting at your lip in an attempt to suppress the smile that tugs at your face; you fail miserably, but all the patronizing look in your eyes does is make Beomgyu’s cock twitch inside you a bit.

“Does my stupid puppy need something? Need my approval?” you ask, pouting at the way he hesitates to answer, “I won’t know unless you tell me, baby.”

The pet names are enough to have Beomgyu short-circuiting again; his face feels hot and he lets out a petulant whine at the way you continue to tease, ignoring his pleading look as you reach up to cup his jaw, cooing his name so sweetly he’s unable to be ashamed at how easily he breaks.

“Tell me I’m doing good,” he whines, and you simply smile at him, stuttered breaths and soft moans the only thing leaving your lips as you notice the increased sloppiness of his thrusts, his erratic voice and face that slowly nears yours, hovering over you as he speaks.

“I’m— ‘m good, right? Your…” he trails off, punctuating his next word with a harsh, deep thrust that has you yelping, “your good boy— tell me, tell me I’m good, just wanna hear you say it, ah, wanna be good for you.”

He’s a babbling, whining mess, hiding his face in your neck immediately after the words escape him— and with a request so sweet, how could you ever deny him?

“So good for me,” you immediately respond, listening to the muffled whimpers as he buries his head deeper into your neck, wandering lips sucking and biting at the skin, “good little pup— fuck, are you close? Gonna fill me up?”

You feel the way he nods frantically against you, his hand leaving your hip to circle under your back, pulling you flush against him as he continues his rough, haphazard thrusts— and you turn your head to face him, pressing a kiss to his head before you lean in close to his ear, the sounds of your breathy moans and sweet voice enough to bring him over the edge.

“C’mon, cum for me puppy,” you coo, listening to the long whimper he lets out in response, hips stilling and pressing flush against yours as he follows your command, warm cum filling you up as he rides out his orgasm, cock rutting subtly into you all the while, “that’s it— such a good boy, so perfect to me.”

His chest heaves against yours; his other arm comes up to sneak under your body as well, successfully hugging you close against him, bodies pressed together and practically one with how tightly he’s got you in his grip— his cock remains inside you all the while, head nuzzled deeply in the space of your neck as you merely let out an amused huff, giving him a moment to catch his breath before you tease him again.

The moment of peace between the two of you is cut by the abrasive sound of his phone ringing, the two of you looking at the source with furrowed brows; neither of you make a move to get it, watching it continue to vibrate on the bed before it goes silent— you’re both falling back against the bed the moment in bliss the moment the ringtone disappears, and you can feel Beomgyu’s arms tightening around you even more, not expecting him to be so openly clingy—

“You didn’t cum,” Beomgyu suddenly gasps, head popping up from his hiding place as he hovers over you with wide eyes. You simply reassure him that it’s alright, already feeling your body get heavy with exhaustion— but he isn’t having it, shaking his head and standing back up as he looks at you with an unbelievably solemn expression, wincing softly as he pulls out of you, “No, I wanna make you cum— wanna feel you cum on my dick, wanna make you feel good.”

The words sound clumsy coming from him, oddly shy to say what he wants out loud— and it makes you laugh, attempting to tell him that you really don’t mind when you’re getting interrupted by the annoying sound of his phone ringing.

“Seriously, who the hell is…” you’re trailing off as you watch Beomgyu’s eyes widen, leaning over to snatch his phone as he reads the contact name, his horrified expression telling you all you need to know.

“Don’t answer it,” you seethe, ignoring the way he stutters about how he totally forgot to cancel, feeling a hot anger bubble in your stomach as he talks about how bad he feels for not communicating properly, “Beomgyu, don’t answer it!”

“I— what if she’s waiting outside right now—?!”

Your movements are much too sudden and swift for him to process; he can only watch and allow you to snatch the phone away from him, rough hands gripping his shoulders and hissing at him to fucking sit; he’s quick to comply, and you’re even quicker to climb onto his lap and situate yourself just how you like— he cries softly at the feeling of you grabbing at his sensitive cock, stroking it for a moment and aligning it with your entrance before you’re sinking down on him slowly.

“Who cares if she’s outside right now,” you scowl, digging your fingers in his cheeks and forcing him to look at you, swollen lips red and pouty as he merely whines at the feeling of you rocking slowly against him, “it’s the least we could do to get back at her for trying to fucking use you.”

His protests die down once you pick up your pace; oh, his face practically screams, eyes glazing over at the feeling of your warm pussy using his sensitive cock to get yourself off, soft cries leaving him as he merely watches you begin to ride him expertly, already feeling himself get hard inside you, the sight of you on top of him and the sounds of skin against skin riling him much more than expected.

“Hnng, wait, slow down please—!” he whines softly, hands flying to your hips yet making no attempts to control the pace— and you can only laugh at him, the sounds of his soft cries enough to encourage you more.

You’re close— so, so close, and all Beomgyu can do is sit and take it, tears of sensitivity pricking at his eyes and falling along his cheeks the moment he feels your walls clench against him— but he’d rather die than stop you, sp entranced with the sight of your face twisted with pleasure that his body screams at him to do what he can to make you feel good.

Like instinct, your hand tangles itself in Beomgyu’s hair the moment he latches his lips against your nipple, back arching and the tight knot in your stomach falling apart the moment his wandering hand goes to play with your clit; the way your walls spasm and hug him tightly is enough to have Beomgyu cumming inside you again, a pathetic keen sounding from him as he buries his head in your chest, beyond sensitive with the way you continue to ride your orgasm long after.

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of your panting and Beomgyu’s soft whimpers— but it doesn’t last long, a tired groan escaping you at the sound of Beomgyu’s phone ringing again; without much of a thought, you reach for it and finally answer.

“Leave him alone. He’s busy.”

You hang up immediately after— the girl on the other side didn’t get the chance to utter a single word, and you find that you couldn’t care less as you toss his phone to the side and look over at Beomgyu— you’re smiling softly at the way he seems mortified at your action.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel bad,” you sigh, placing your hands on his chest and pushing, gently guiding the two of you to lay down— he remains inside you as he pulls you in close, your limbs heavy and tangling quickly as he mutters a soft no, I don’t; you smile. “Good. Cause I almost got mad again.”

He chuckles softly at that, falling quiet after; you look up at him to gauge his expression, finding that he’s lost in thought. After a few minutes, he meets your eyes meekly and finally speaks.

“Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

A pause. You said a lot of things earlier— but as you retract on every little thing that's come from your mouth, you realize what he’s talking about— and you laugh, reaching to cup his cheeks fondly as you nod.

“Of course I did,” you grin, pecking his lips, your heart fluttering wildly at the way he immediately chases after you for more after you pull away, “I meant all of it— and more.”

Softly, he smiles. His arms that were wrapped around you pull you in close, closing the space between you and bringing you in for a slow, sweet kiss— he pulls away, leaning into your ear to whisper something with a coy smile.

“So do you wanna play League of Legends later?”

You let out an annoyed yell and punch at his chest— you practically fuck his brains out, and this is all he can say?

“You’re such a fucking loser,” you mourn, hiding your face in your hands.

Beomgyu laughs, and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“But I’m your loser,” he says sweetly, nuzzling against your hair with a content sigh, “all yours.”

Under the covers of your hands, you smile.

All yours. You like the sound of that.

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