prettyboysun

[prettyboysun]

show me | l. at

virgin!anton x fem. reader | 7.5k words

stop writing fics with mutual hopeless pining challenge FAILED.

contains: loss of virginity

“are you going on a date next week?”

you tried to sound even as you asked the question. you hid behind your phone while you spoke, only turning your head to the side to see anton’s reaction. you swore you could feel him tense beside you on the bed before he went back to his phone, swiping away on some social media app as he nodded his head.

“i didn’t know you knew about that.” anton said simply.

you went back to your own phone, trying desperately to ignore the way your stomach dropped.

“your mom told me.” you responded.

you could hear anton sigh beside you, mentally cursing himself for trusting his mom with such personal information.

“we are going to go eat.” anton slid down his notification window on his phone, probably too see if his soon to be girlfriend had texted him “then we are going to watch a movie at her place.” he said.

knowing the details of the date made the pain significantly worse. it was already bad enough that you felt perpetually stuck in the friend zone with anton. the two of you were always like this—at one point in time all you wanted was to be his friend. but you grew up and so did he, and as your personalities began to differ you saw him as less of a friend and more as a partner. 

it didn’t help that skinship with anton never changed. you two would still hold hands like you did when you were kids, and you two laid in beds and sat so close together on couches that your thighs would touch. one day you saw it platonically and one day you did not. you felt your body become hot when anton would get too close, and you would hesitate for no reason. anton was oblivious to it all, so much so that he started letting himself be pursued by girls. you had no choice but to watch it happen, girls that didn’t pay attention to anton talked to him now couldn’t get enough of him. you sat quietly, forced to seem as neutral as possible when they would curiously ask you what anton’s type was. 

one girl was able to break through, giving anton his number and eventually asking him out on a date. this is what you gathered from his mother, atleast. she took you aside when you first came into their house, curiously asking you what you knew about a girl named belle. you remembered her, one of the more recent girls that tried for anton’s attention. you told her what you knew, that she was a girl who seemed nice. anton’s mother gave you a knowing smile as she told you anton had a date with her next week. she always had that smile on her face when she spoke to you now, especially when she caught you and anton sitting next to eachother on the couch when there was so much room left on the sofa.

you couldn’t hide your shock, quickly walking up to anton’s room as his mom was on her way out. something about running low on groceries and picking up anton’s brother from practice. everything was lost on you, the only thing occupying your mind was the thought of anton going on a date next week. 

you tried to keep it to yourself, atleast until anton decided to tell you himself. but as you laid next to anton on his bed watching him scroll wordlessly on his phone you felt the question bubbling in the back of your throat. when you saw a notification from her pop up on anton’s phone you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing it up.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

anton only shrugged, clearing the notification from the top of his phone before turning off his device. he let his phone rest on his chest as he covered his eyes, an awkward laugh coming from his lips. he took his hands away, not making eye contact with you as he confessed.

“i’m embarrassed.” anton said.

he was still laughing lightly, even as the tips of his ears turned red. you shook your head, propping yourself up from the bed to look down at him.

“you’re my bestfriend, anton.” you try not to focus too much on his lips or his eyes as you try to remain neutral. “you don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me anything.” you say.

anton props himself up on his elbows, his face coming closer to yours. he is significantly worse at remaining neutral. anton’s eyes immediately go to your glossy lips and stay there. he swears they sparkle in the light of his room, and our eyes stare back at him so intensely he can’t look at them for too long. 

too many times you have been stuck in this position with anton. you above him, your lips dangerously close to touching his. in times like this, almost always someone would interrupt this moment. whether it was his mom coming to tell you two food was ready, his brother barging into his room unannounced, sometimes even a notification on anton’s phone would bring you two back to the present. each time there was an outside force that would pull you two apart, acting as a buffer so you two could go back into your normal habits without mentioning what happened moments earlier. but now there was nothing to break the tension or to pull you two apart. it was only you, anton, an empty house, and unresolved feelings that existed in the space between your lips.

when you shifted on the bed and your hand got closer to anton’s body he couldn’t stop himself.

“i’ve never been with anyone before.” he rushed.

you blinked, pulling away from anton to sit up on the bed. you looked around the space of his room, until you circled back to him.

“is that why you’re nervous for your date? because you have no experience?” you asked.

the fog in anton’s mind almost made him ask you what date you were talking about. it wasn’t until anton’s phone rang from another texting notification that he remembered his obligation next weekend. maybe antoon was reading too much into the moment he shared with you, the shimmer on your lips distracted him. so anton nodded at your question, still feeling dizzy after being so close to kissing you. 

anton sits up on his bed, leaning against his headboard as he draws his knees to his chest. he focuses on his knees, a habitual shy smile across his face as he avoids your gaze.

“i’m not prepared at all, if we go further.” anton brings one hand to scratch at the nape of his neck. “if she has experience i’m screwed.” anton says.

he can only bring himself to look at you when he feels you look away again. you look past anton to stare at his window, deep in thought as his eyes roam your side profile. you look so pretty like this, he wishes he had the nerve to tell you. part of anton wants to reach out and caress your soft cheek, something he hadn’t been able to do in so long. he has to hold himself back when you turn your head to look at him again. 

“what about this.” anton sees the figurative bulb light up over your head as you shift on his bed. “what if i help you. like if i tell you what to do when you’re in that situation with her.” you say.

anton tilts his head when you paused before sayign her. the two of you have been going to school with anton’s future date for as long as he could remember. you knew belle’s name, you were her partner in a project together last week. why was belle suddenly her?

“what do you mean?” anton asked. 

anton sees you feign annoyance, how even you realize what you’re proposing is ridiculous. regardless, you lean forward and move in front of anton. your balled up fists hold you upright on his bed, dipping the mattress as you try to justify your reasoning.

“i want to help you not be embarrassed.” you lean back, sitting on the back of your legs as you gently smooth out anton’s sheets with your hands “so you can become confident in expressing your feelings.” you say.

what you say fully sinks in for anton. he feels heat blossom in his chest and spread across his body like a wildfire. he doesn’t know if there’s enough confidence in the world to help anton. he can’t even bring himself to confirm what you’re offering.

“do you mean—” he stutters.

“we can go as far as you’re comfortable with.” you put your hand over anton’s quickly as if you’re trying to compensate for coming on strong. “i don’t want you to mess it up with her.” you reason.

there’s that her again.

“with belle?” anton specifies.

you don’t say her name, only nod your head as you keep your hand on anton’s. he doesn’t know if he should believe you, the situation is too confusing for anton to navigate. you were unpredictable in this way, sometimes so non-assuming you didn’t know what you were hinting at. anton had to be direct, but he had to let his heart calm down first. his eyes went back to looking at your hand resting over his. you were squeezing him at first, but your grip loosened to the point that anton feared you were going to pull away. he had to keep you there, he had to keep feeling your soft hand on top of his.

“just a friend helping another friend out?” anton asks, looking up at you from your hand.

anton sees you hesitate before you nod.

“completely as friends.” you confirm.

anton nods his head, bringing his knees down to sit criss crossed on his bed. now that you two have agreed, neither of you knew how to proceed. it was almost awkward. you felt the urge to go back on your word.

“should we start with kissing?” anton asked.

you nodded your head, scooting closer to anton on the bed. he got closer too, you could see his chest raise and fall quickly as his hands moved towards you. anton talked himself out of touching you, his hands falling back onto the top of his mattress.

“you should touch her first.” you look down at anton’s hands, wishing they were on you instead. you bring wide eyes back to anton, trying to blink away how wet they already feel. “it’s hard but making the first move from the start matters.” you say.

anton nods, bringing his hands up to your shoulder. it’s awkward, you can tell he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he hesitates on where to put it. he squeezes gently and shakes you softly, smiling at you. you smile at him for a second before a shy laugh slips out. anton does the same, giggling as he brings his free hand to cover his toothy grin. 

“i don’t know if i know how to kiss.” anton giggles out truthfully.

you nod, and when your laughing subsides you bring anton’s hand from his mouth to rest on your cheek. instantly he’s caressing your skin, light as a feather as you fit into his hand perfectly.

“you can still bring her in.” anton begins pulling you in, his mouth slightly opening as his lips get closer to yours. before they can touch, you speak, desperate to cut through the tension. “let her guide you once you start and you’ll get the hang of it.” you say.

you look up to anton’s eyes one more time, and he nods again before going back to his previous position. he brings you in an you follow in closer, screwing your eyes shut your your lips finally touch. 

anton melds to you like it’s second nature. he follows the curves of your lips, and only stumbles for a second before following your lead perfectly. your hand finds its way to his hair, holding the soft strands for comfort. when you tilt your head anton follows, and when you move to the other side anton does the same. 

you go from pecks to lingering wet kisses. the sound of your lips parting fills the room, the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. it’s soft like anton’s hand on your cheek, how he got the courage to tilt your head up to his liking. you submit instantly, reveling in anton taking the reigns. it’s him who slips a tongue into your mouth first, and you let him explore your mouth. when his tongue presses against yours you do it back, swapping spit between eachothers mouths. 

you’re the one that has to pull away for air first. you almost stay there, intoxicated by the way anton sighs contently into you. but you feel your heart is about to explode. when you finally pull away you’re breathless, looking at your fast learner in awe. anton looks at you with wide eyes, running his tongue over his glossy lips to see if he can taste you again.

“you’re a natural.” you say breathlessly.

“thank you.” anton says back.

he’s just as rattled as you, his mussed hair reflecting his scrambled mind. anton pulls you back in with both hands while you still try catching your breath, placing one last wet kiss on your lips. your hands go to his shoulders and stay there even when he pulls apart from you.

you two still hold eachother, huffing in air like you both just ran a mile. anton comes back first, eyes determined as he takes his hands away from your face.

“what’s next?” anton asks.

you have to sit there and think, not because you don’t know what comes after passionate makeout sessions. you have to gather your thoughts, thinking how you can be normal about your friendship with anton if the two of you go any further. you decide that’s something for later when anton puts his hands on your legs and gives you a look that has your heart leaping in your chest.

“she might only let you finger her since it’s the first date.” you start reaching for your pants. “you have really nice hands so that’s a plus. definitely play into that.”

you wanted to cringe at how you sounded, saying something so lewd so casually. anton was all ears though, not teasing you for the compliment you have wanted to tell him a million times before. his phone was long discarded as he sat up on his bed in front of you. he had his fisted hands pressed into the mattress beside him, flexing his fist as he listened to what you were saying. he nodded at everythin, eyes focused on new parts of your body that were exposed as you got yourself undressed. first it was your thighs and then your calfs as you struggled to take your pants off.

anton was too shy to offer his help, but something inside of him liked seeing you struggle and liked seeing you get undressed for him. before you could expose your stomach, you paused. anton’s eyes went from your thighs and how they were pressed together to your face.

“this is a disclaimer, before we go any further.” anton clenched his fist again when you let go of your shirt, letting it drape down your body again. “she might want you to do things a different way. not all girls are the same.” you say matter-of-factly.

“just show me what you like.” when your eyes got wide anton quickly defended himself. “i can figure out the rest with her when the time comes.”

you nodded your head, agreeing with his reasoning. you and anton sat like that for a minute in complete silence while you gathered your thoughts. anton was patient and he was obedient, giving you his hand instantly when you reached out for it.

you brought his hand to your face, using your own hands to bring his ring and pinky finger to his palm. when only antons thumb, index finger, and middle finger were left you guided his hand to rest on your lips. you slowly opened your mouth and anton understood, shivering while he pushed his fingers past your plush lips.

when his fingers were inside of your mouth he left them rest on top of your tongue. you nodded approvingly, and anton nodded back as he let his thumb rest underneath your chin. he took charge slightly, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks.

what you truly wanted anton to do was stick his fingers so far into your mouth that you gagged on them. but you settled for his large fingers pressing lightly on your tongue. you could see his mouth fall open as you made a show of sucking on him.

“okay now pull them out” you mumbled around his fingers.

anton nodded his head, but before he pulled out his fingers out he brought your chin forward with his thumb, eyes focused on his fingers as he stuck them further into your mouth. the entranced look in anton’s eyes distracted you, and before you could prepare yourself his fingers went too far. you gagged pathetically when anton’s fingers went past your tongue.

anton’s gaze went from his fingers in your mouth to your eyes. he had a look you had never seen, so different from the your shy bestfriend. he kept them there for a beat too short, before you could ease your throat to stop your eyes from getting glossy anton withdrew his fingers slowly. when he saw your eyes get glossy he pulled them out slowly. both of you looked at the the string of spit that connected your lip to his fingers.

“sorry” anton said sheepishly.

as fast as you saw the look in anton’s eyes it was gone, replaced with the same shy expression you were used to seeing. he kept his two fingers together in the air, waiting for your next instructions. you look down at your legs, how they pressed together. the image of anton prying them apart while he had that look in his eyes flashed across your mind. you closed your eyes before looking back up at anton with a thinking look. anton shifted on the bed as you leaned back, following your movements until you moved your legs from underneath you. 

when your legs were bent in front of you, anton stayed still. his wet fingers were still in the air, drying from the cool air in his room. you smiled before reaching forward and grabbing his hand, putting it on your knee.

“make sure you always ask if everything is okay, especially if it’s the first time.” you say.

you start applying light pressure to anton’s hand on your knee, showing him to lightly spread your legs apart. he understands immediately, bringing his other hand to your other knee to part them.

“is this okay?” anton asks.

it’s genuine, the way he looks at you with big eyes. you wordlessly nod your head, leaning back to prop yourself on your hands while anton continues spreading you apart.

when you add resistance against anton’s push, he stops completely. you can see him remembering the distance between your parted knees. she is so lucky.

when a sigh slips from your lips anton’s gaze snaps up to you. you play it off well, moving your shoulders slightly to feign contemplation. before anton can ask you what next, you point your feet.

“help me take my underwear off.” you say.

any attempt to sound bossy is hindered by the hush in your voice. you’re being too soft but you can’t help it. you’re lucky anton is too focused on getting you undressed he doesn’t notice the way you bite at your lip nervously.

anton’s hands are timid as his fingers go underneath your waistband. he thinks it would be easier if he approached the situation like ripping off a bandaid, but it’s slow as he pulls your panties up to your thighs and down your knee. your pointed feet helps anton in the end, he leaves the pair next to him on the bed, dropped gently from his hand.

anton sees the first definite crack in your composure when he can’t take his eyes away from your core. you glisten and seize around nothing. the pornos he’s watched and the stories he’s heard falls short—nothing can compare to you.

“wow.” anton sighs.

your knees wobble as you try to close them in subconsciously. anton keeps them apart, slotting himself between your legs to stop them from closing completely he will fight anything that tries to obstruct his view of you. anton looks down at you to watch you change your pleased expression a beat to late.

“flattery will get you very far, anton.” you say.

you try to be sarcastic, but anton is serious as he shakes his head. one of his hands leaves your knee to press on your pearl that protrudes at the top of your cunt. you jolt from the feeling, fists balling the sheets. maybe the pornos got some things right. anton looks at your face, watching more and more of your resolve crumbles in from of him. you are stubborn, clearing your throat to try and bring back some volume to your voice.

“i’m wet already. feel it.” you say.

anton’s finger that presses your pearl drifts down. he can feel you wet and slick against his fingers. he pulls his hand away from you and rubs it between his thumb and index finger.

“that’s how you know you’re doing something atleast a little right.” you shift your hips closer to anton, inviting him to touch you some more. anton went back to touching your folds, pressing in slightly. you could tell he was looking for your hole, and you let him find on his own. you shivered as anton got closer and closer, going further down your cunt. when he found he he pressed in slightly. you showed him he was right by sighing and arching your back.

“it’s lower than i thought.” anton laughed quietly to himself.

“yeah.” you said breathlessly.

you were caught up in the feeling of anton’s probing fingers so close to being fully inside of you. you almost forgot you had a job to do as anton’s bestfriend.

“start off with just one finger. your hands are big.” you say.

anton pushes in a finger, looking up at you as he eases in. you clamp around his fingers before relaxing, allowing him to go all the way inside of you. anton pulls his finger out before pushing it back in, watching the way his digit disappears inside of you.

“holy shit.” anton whispers.

you clench around his finger, before telling him to put another finger in. anton heeds your request, adding his middle finger to sink into your cunt. you can’t stop your hand from grabbing his bicep. anton stops, and you guide him to a faster pace. 

your hold on anton’s bicep doesn’t falter as he picks up the speed. when he takes it upon himself to face his palm upwards the discomfort in his wrist is gone immediately. his fingers can fuck you smoothly when he faces his palm upwards. the confidence anton gets when you close your eyes and turn your head to your shoulder makes him add another finger. he can hear your toes crack as you flex your feet, and anton sees your free hand ball up in the sheets.

“do this with your other hand if you can.” 

the words fly out of your mouth at your hand on anton’s bicep goes to your clit. you show anton the speed you like immediately, touching the pearl gently in comparison to anton’s hasty pumping fingers. his free hand goes to your hand, mimicking the movements. when you’re satisfied you move your hand away, letting anton take your place. he falters for a little bit, trying to synchronize his pumping fingers to his gentle hand on your clit. soon enough he can feel you squeezing tightly against his fingers, and your eyes are screwed shut.

“i’m so close.” you say around the teeth digging into your lip.

anton nods, wishing he was good enough at multitasking to kiss your turned cheek. instead anton only nods, sitting down on his bed to get a better angle.

without his body between your legs, your knees close in on eachother. it’s pathetic, the way you whimper and withhold moans as you come undone around anton’s fingers. you’re so quiet he doesn’t know you came. so anton continues, waiting for you to call out his name and announce to him how good he’s making you feel. anton doesn’t know you came until near cries come out, and your hands go to his wrists to stop him. anton looks at you confused, until he sees the tears dotting your vision again and your shaking shoulders. anton experimentally presses a finger harshly to your clit, you jolt and whimper again.

“sorry.” anton says unapologetically.

you fall onto your back, looking up at anton’s ceiling fan. it’s completely turned off, you imagine the blades are spinning to try and occupy your mind. your knees are still closed on eachother and you tremble occasionally. you put all your brainpower into the nonmoving blades to distract yourself from anton’s hands on your thighs that spread you further apart. you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. when his breath fans your center you shiver, still dealing with the after effects of your orgasm. when anton comes so close that his nose pokes your fold you pinch the covers on his bed between your two fingers.

“what should i do?” anton asks.

even if you are not looking at anton, you can tell he’s not all the way there with you. you can feel his eyes boring into your heat, you can almost hear him bringing in your smell. you have to clear your own thoughts to focus getting words out from your dry throat.

“you have to tease first.” you swallow on nothing. “to like build the tension, ya know?”

you don’t know when you’ll drop the act of trying to remain nonchalant. hiding your moans requires self control you don’t have anymore. when anton presses a kiss to your thigh you let him hear the sighs you tried so hard to suppress. anton smiles against your skin when he kisses the other side.

“how should i eat you out?” anton asks.

you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at anton. he’s curious, eyes filled with you as he presses a kiss closer to your cunt. you bring your your legs to rest on his shoulders.

“pretending like you’re making out with me.” you whimper.

anton’s eyes widen at your desperate voice. you can’t bring yourself to care anymore, you can’t hold back when anton keeps eye contact with you as his tongue gets closer and closer to your heat. he looks down at your pussy like it’s his next meal, latching his lips to your clit and sucking. 

instantly your back is pressed into the mattress again, squirming as you try to stop yourself from thrusting into anton’s mouth. he’s a step ahead, putting hands underneath your ass to prop your lower half up. he goes into his own groove, letting his tongue occasionally poke past your hole to taste you. when anton compares your noises, he finds himself driven to continue sucking on your clit. he knows he made the right decision when he hears your moan rip through his room for the first time. he looks up to your with satisfaction, when he starts using his fingers to fuck you again your hand grips his hair tightly.

“are you sure you’re a virgin?” you ask genuinely.

when anton’s laugh vibrates against you, you dig your back into the mattress. you pathetically lift your suspended hips into anton’s mouth. you feel euphoria building over you again, and you push antons face back from your pussy with a hand to his forehead.

anton looks at you like a man starved before licking his lips.

“is everything okay?” anton asks.

you nod, a hand going to your face as you wipe sweat away. you close your eyes to save yourself from the stimulation, remaining quiet until your foggy mind can form full sentences again. you sit up fully on the bed and anton’s meets you, bringing you in to kiss him again. you can taste yourself on his lips, and you can feel his wet fingers touch your face. when you pull away you still keep your lips against his.

“do you want to wait until next week—” you look at anton unsure, feeling his hot cheeks underneath the pads of your fingers. you don’t want to assume his feelings for you, or take something he might’ve been saving for someone that isn’t his bestfriend. “do you want to wait until next week to go all the way?” you ask

anton shakes his head, both of his hands going to the side of your head to force eye contact. you look him in the eyes before he brings you in for another big kiss. 

“i think i found the confidence to tell you how i feel now.” anton says.

“i’ve wanted you for so long.” you say.

anton nods his head, telling you he’s felt the same way.

“we are a mess.” anton says laughing.

you laugh with him again, your head going to anton’s shoulder as you recall all the moments you both chose to ignore. the fleeting looks, the accidental touches, the almost kisses. it’s almost embarrassing that it took you guys this long to come to terms and to confess, under these circumstances nonetheless. it would’ve been embarrassing if it wasn’t so funny. 

anton pulls you from his shoulder and kisses your forehead again, and you grab his face to kiss his forehead back. anton smiles and pecks your lips.

“i’m ready.” anton says.

you nod your head, trying to sound as assertive as possible.

“the guy should always bring a condom.” you say it matter-of-factly, holding up a finger like it’s a fact.

anton laughs at you again, before reaching to his drawer. he pulls out an unopened box of condoms, mouth opening getting ready to ask anton a question.

“my dad.” when your eyes widen anton only shakes his head. “don’t ask. please don’t ask.” he says.

you nod your head, grabbing the box from anton to open it. you pull out the first one, tearing it from the foil like and the opening the package. anton watches you pull out the rubber, small in your hand. you look at anton, still clothed, clad in tight jeans that strain against his dick and a shirt that is too hot on him. as if on cue he stumbles over the edge of the bed, taking off his pants and shirt leaving him in his briefs.

when he gets on the bed in the same position, you still hold the condom in your hand. you look at anton twitching in his boxers. you resist the urge to pounce on him when you see the wet patch in his underwear.

“can i see it?” you don’t hide the desperate lift in your voice. anton is nervous, hands pressed flat to his thighs in efforts to wipe off the sweat. “please?” you beg.

anton nods, leaning back on the bed the same way you did when he took your underwear off. you lean forward on the bed, handing the condom to anton and you gently pull his waistband down his legs. you imagine anton wanted to be treated the same way he treated you, slow and gentle like you’re made of glass. by the time his underwear is off his face is red in splotches, the tips of his ears hot to the touch. you would’ve seen anton’s face get more red by the second if you weren’t staring at his dick, it was thick, shooting straight up without the confinements of his briefs. his tip was pink and soft like his lips, and beading endless with precum. the translucent pearls made his dick look like porcelain. you smile at anton before sticking touching his leaking tip gently. 

“so pretty.” you coo.

anton shakes his head, his large hand clasping around your wrist when you tried pumping his dick. his sensitivity went without saying, and you didn’t want to waste it either. you tapped on anton’s wrist to make him open his eyes, pointing to the condom in his clenched hand when he looked at you.

“sorry.” anton said. 

“don’t apologize.” you pinch the tip of the condom, sliding the band down until anton’s dick is covered completely. “you don’t have to apologize to me.”

anton hisses, bucking his hips up when you experimentally squeeze his length.

“and why is that?” anton asks.

“i’m your bestfriend.” you say casually.

when friend falls from your lips anton scoffs and shakes his head. he checks to see if the condom is on securely, touching his length to see what contact feels like.

“think we are a little more than that now.” anton says under his breath. 

you coo at him, pinching his cheeks before letting your hands explore the rest of his body. when you reach anton’s shoulders you gently tug at him, bringing him to you. you let yourself lean back on anton’s bed again as you continue pulling him by his shoulders. when your back is against the sheets anton is hovering over you, and he’s so close that his hair touches your face. he moves a hand to plant into the mattress beside your head to hold himself upright. his other hand grips your hip, a hold so tight like anton thinks you’ll slip away. you’re the same, a white knuckle grip on his shoulders. 

you look up at anton, and he swears he sees your eyes soften. they’re gentle and welcoming, like your pupils have become heart shaped. anton uses his hand planted into the mattress to move some hair from your face. you pucker your lips and make a kissing sound, signaling to anton to press his lips against yours. when he pulls back you take a hand from his shoulder and trail it down his body. you look at him with each inch you cover. when anton bites his lip you hesitate, worried that he might suddenly decide he’s not ready. but anton hangs his head low to look between your two bodies, how close your hand is to grabbing his dick again.

he whimpers and instantly goes to the crook of your neck, his sheets balling up in his clenched fists. you pump his dick a few times, wishing to yourself that a condom wasn’t separating the two of you. there will be plenty of time for that later you have to tell yourself. you focus instead on anton, how he hopelessly sucks on the skin of your neck as you jerk him off.

“i really won’t last long.” anton says.

his words are hushed and fan across your skin in warm huffs. you nod, moving your other hand to the back of anton’s head.

“it’s okay.” you continue jerking anton off until he lets out a shaky exhale. you stop pumping, pulling his head from the crook of your neck so you can look at him. “can you help me?” you ask sweetly.

instantly anton nods his head.

“what do you need me to do?” anton asks.

for a moment he thinks he might be crushing you underneath his body weight. before he can pull back your hand that moved to his shoulder blades keeps him in pace. you’re sheepish, the hand that was on anton’s dick goes to his hand that’s on your hip. you wrap your hands around his pinky finger, holding tight as you tug at his hand slightly.

“let’s put it in together.” you say.

anton swallows, both of your hands are slow going back to his dick. the anticipation has you both ready to leap out of your skin, and when you put your hands to anton both of you gasp. it’s a new feeling, your hand over anton’s as he guides his tip to your cunt. you already feel your hole fluttering around nothing, pulsing like a heartbeat. anton has to take his hand away when he gets too close, instead propping his elbow beside your head so he can hover above you. 

his lips are already parted, and you see the glossy look in his eyes as you pump his length a few more times.

“are you ready?“ you ask.

you feel nearly out of breath yourself. when you move lower down on the bed anton’s tip prods your entrance, almost inside of you.

“i’m ready.” anton says.

you almost close your eyes when you feel anton push his hips against yours—the only thing that keeps them open is so your can look at anton above you. his eyes shut in euphoria as he pushes deeper into you. you don’t tell anton to stop while taking all of him, you revel in the stretch and the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part even more. a whimper slips past anton’s lips and he lets his head hand when he’s all the way in. he whimpers again when you seize around him, and a big hand squeezes on your waist.

“so big.” you whisper to anton.

he stays like that above you for awhile, falling victim to your warm wet fluttering walls and your sweet voice. his grip on your waist is rough but it the only thing keeping him grounded. anton twitches inside of you and he clenches the first next to your head. each attempt to move fails, it’s almost like you’re pulling him back in.

“can i move?” anton asks.

when he lifts his head back up, he sees you wide eyed nodding vigorously. you lift your own hips slightly, giving anton room to pull back to meet you again. he draws a shaky breath as he feels his dick dragging out of you. when he slides back in slowly anton’s head goes to the crook of your neck. your hand goes to anton’s back, pressing gently to bring him closer.

“what does it feel like?” you draw your hips back and forth, giving anton shallow thrusts. 

“warm and wet.” anton’s voice shakes as he slowly starts thrusting into you. “like a really nice hug.” he says.

you hum at anton’s observation, desperate to know what it feels like to him. you want to tell anton how good he’s being, how he fits perfectly inside of you and makes you feel full. but this is about anton, you have plenty of time to tell him how he makes you feel later.

you wedge your hand between your bodies and press on your stomach, letting out a sigh when you feel your stomach tighten. anton keeps the slow deep thrusts, panting into the crook of your neck. when he snaps his hips a particular way, an unexpected choked whine slips past your lips. anton pulls away from your skin looking down at you.

anton’s blown out eyes look down at you. you can already see his face becoming red and splotchy as he takes you in. he looks at your lips, where a sound he’s never heard before came from and to your eyes that were wet just like his. the previous accidental thrust becomes purposeful, anton snaps his hips the same way he did before while looking at your face. the sound falls from you again, and you have to fight to keep your eyes open. anton does it again, and you can see his hair and the apples of his cheeks move from the force. the fourth time anton snaps his hips harder, and your back arches off the bed.

“so big.” you say into anton’s ear. 

you press your hand deeper into your stomach, ad anton presses his forehead to yours to look down between your two bodies. he looks only for a second before his hooded eyes go back to yours.

his mouth opens as he looks down at you, words caught in his throat as he focuses on thrusting inside of you. but you already know what he’s going to ask. you press your hand deeper into your stomach while nodding your head.

“so deep.” you whine.

anton’s parted lips turn into a smile, a quick smirk that reveals his perfect teeth. you only see it for a second before anton goes back to feeling weak. anton switches his snapping hips to something more languid, trading the harsh slapping for the smooth and wet sound you two make together. 

anton’s hair is wet with sweat as you fist it, pulling it away from his face so you can see all of him. you keep his head against yours, pressing gentle kisses to his plush lips.

“you feel so good inside of me, anton.” you tell him.

he can only nod quickly, drops of sweat falling onto you as he picks up the pace. your hand that pressed into your stomach moves to your clit. when you touch the bundle of nerves the moans fall from your lips, moving anton to do the same thing. his sounds are airy gasps, almost crying while yours become pouty.

the two of you no longer speak while you chase your instincts. anton’s languid thrusts turn to rutting hips, and all your reservations flies out the window as you bring your knee to your chest. anton’s hand on your hip helps you, applying force to the back of your thigh to press it closer. the new angle makes anton fuck you deeper and harder, you give up circling your clit to put both hands on anton for stability. he lifts his body from yours slightly, looking down at all of you. when you feel his eyes drift down from your face to your chest, you arch your back to come closer to his mouth. anton gives you a quick look of uncertainty and you soften your features to show him how desperate you feel, how close you are. you don’t get the chance to beg for something more when anton bends his body to attach his lips to your nipple.

you’re quick reacting to anton wet tongue that laves your senstive skin. you’re propping yourself up on one of your elbows in a second, forcing your hand to grip anton’s sheets to find stability. you arch your back and fist anton’s hair, the stimulation from his rutting hips and teeth grazing your sensitive skin makes you pull his hair at the root.

“i’m so close.” you whimper.

you look down at anton, how he is so content sucking on your chest. when he looks up at you with little hearts swimming around in his big brown eyes you let your head lean back. 

it’s too fast, you can’t announce you’re cumming before it hits you in full force. your leg twitches as anton’s grip on your thigh tightens, pushing you further to open you up more. he hits deep, and your cries bounce off the walls in his room. you are nearly crying when anton stills inside of you—he didn’t get the chance to warn you either. one moment he had control the next he didn’t, emptying into the condom as your name falls from his parted lips in pants and high-pitched whines. anton has to screw his eyes shut from the relief that takes over his body, and when he finally comes down he slumps against your body completely.

you let anton crush you, loving the feeling of his sweaty body pressing into yours. you can still feel him twitching inside of you and you can still feel your walls flutter around him. 

neither of you move until you hear the front door open and anton’s mom call you both down to help bring the groceries inside. the two of you were so caught up in your own world you forgot other people existed. you nearly kicked anton off of you, pushing him backwards so you could put your clothes back on. anton’s door was left open, and you could hear his brother making his way up the stairs. the two of you rushed trying to become decent. you threw on anton’s shirt and almost put your jeans on backwards. anton ended up grabbing a completely new outfit, tripping over his feet as he put his shorts on.

the steps were getting closer to anton’s room when you guys started to desperately smooth out eachother’s features, trying to lay anton’s hair down straight while anton time making his shirt on you not look like his shirt.

his brother did a once over of you and anton, standing in the middle of his room looking frazzled. he decided he didn’t care, walking out of sight as he went into his room.

“mom said to come downstairs.” he said over his shoulder.

“okay.” when anton’s voice sounded too hoarse he cleared his throat. “be down there in a second.” anton said.

[prettyboysun]

anything 4 u | j. sc

brothers bestfriend!sungchan x fem. reader | 9k words

loosely inspired by “anything 4 u” by lany. this damn near killed me to write omfg.

contains: arguing, double standards, a little possessive? on both sides, sungchan and the reader are both a little mean. unprotected sex.

before you came into the world as shotaro’s little sister, sungchan was his bestfriend. they were friends before they could walk, gravitating towards one another even as crawling babies. sungchan was shotaro’s first sibling, crossing the threshold of being his bestfriend in such a short amount of time. shotaro was the closest thing sungchan would ever have to a sibling, he was the only child in his house. 

“can you stop messing with her, sungchan?”

when you joined the mix, sungchan wasn’t on board. he discovered jealousy as a toddler, having to share shotaro’s attention with his new little sister. he didn’t understand what was so interesting about you, why shotaro wanted to spend all of his time watching you be an annoying baby instead of playing outside. sungchan would complain when his bestfriend would drop everything to go to you when you’d cry. sungchan would complain when they couldn’t play rough with you or that you couldn’t play video games. sungchan would go over to shotaro’s house only to find out he was going to be the plus one at your princess tea parties.

sungchan let his jealousy turn to teasing and he became the first and only person to get away with it. shotaro only watched your interactions and laugh, knowing you’d get him back tenfold. by the time both of you were preteens, you and sungchan had built a relationship that bordered bullying. you always made sure to come out on top, only having to tell shotaro that sungchan was bothering you so he could collect his friend. 

when you two first became teens, sungchan found himself seeing you in a different light. the teasing had started to become forced on sungchan’s part in an effort to hide his emotions. he was able to convince himself that it was normal to feel that way about you from the proximity of being together and how familiar your personality was. but when sungchan was around you he forgot his words and only received your teases instead of dishing them out the way he used to.

by the time sungchan was about to go off to college, he had started to become protective of you. he tried to make his protectiveness logical, blaming it on the fact that he would be going to school away from his bestfriend, like he was compensating for the future knowing he’d be so far away from his friend. sungchan also blamed it on the fact that no one else seemed to notice you were always texting someone on your phone and you coming to the house late at night. sungchan was basically forced took to bare the burden of being your protector and to stop you from making bad decisions.

when you found out sungchan was no longer the immature boy who pulled your pigtails or stole your toys, you found yourself coming to him more. he was able to give you unbiased opinions, and you could tell him about the crushes or failed relationships that broke your hear. he was a familiar face in your life, one you didn’t mind spilling your heart out to. sungchan had found you a couple times crying your eyes out over something unimportant. sungchan followed the sound of your gentle sobs when you thought you were alone, slowly opening your door telling you everything was going to be okay. each time he was comforting and nonjudgemental, letting you get it all out before helping you find a solution.

the relationship you had with sungchan turned into something strange. you found yourself telling him things you could never tell shotaro or anyone you saw as a brotherly figure. at the same time sungchan didn’t feel like just a friend. there was something more when it came to sungchan, something you tried to ignore. you combated the turbulent emotions it by telling sungchan about all your newest romantic endeavors, hoping that it would make you only see him as a friend.

sungchan found out quickly he couldn’t be someone you came to in relation to boys. you had shown sungchan one too many photos of your direct messages, filled with non-deserving boys trying to get with you. the messages all began the same, all of them acting ignorant to the fact that you were shotaro’s sister, or that sungchan was always near you. too many of the faces and named were familiar, some of them even running in the same social circles as sungchan and shotaro. seeing the messages made his blood boil, causing him to accidentally tell shotaro something he wasn’t supposed to know about.

shotaro was surprisingly calm about the situation. sungchan saw his friend be the calmest he’s ever seen when it came to protecting you. shotaro only tilted his head slightly while asking extremely specific questions. sungchan answered calmly, suddenly embarrassed that he seemed more angry about you seeing guys than your overprotective brother was. when sungchan was done answering shotaro’s questions everything was back to normal. the two continued playing basketball like nothing had happened. 

sungchan had almost forgotten what he told shotaro until you came home the next day. the two were playing a game when you stomped through the house screaming their names. sungchan was wide-eyed and shocked, but shotaro was completely calm as he continued to play.

“up here.” shotaro said casually.

sungchan could hear each stomp up the stairs. sungchan had stopped playing, only focused on shotaro’s closed door that he was sure you was going to break down soon. 

you came through the door so fast the door hit the wall and recoiled back. shotaro only looked up after he killed sungchan’s character in the fighting game, looking at his door that slammed against the wall.

“mom is gonna kill you.” shotaro said evenly.

“i’m going to kill you!” your wild eyes locked on sungchan’s, and you brought a finger up to point at him. “then i’m going to kill you!” you yelled.

that’s when shotaro got upset and leapt to his friend’s defense. when shotaro stood up and started yelling back at you sungchan was frozen on the bed with his head on a swivel watching the screaming match in front of him. sungchan had no siblings, so he could never understand how you two were going at it so viciously or loudly. what sungchan understood was to keep his mouth shut as you two went at it. he knew better than to interject and become the new target both of you focused on. 

so sungchan held his tongue, even when he knew shotaro was acting irrationally. he could tell you knew your brother was being ridiculous by the way you let out a deep breath and pinched the bridge of your nose. before you could argue back sungchan saw you give shotaro a simple smile and a head tilt. it was the same expression shotaro gave sungchan when digging for information about your date.

you said nothing else to shotaro or sungchan. you turned around and left, slamming your door behind you. sungchan looked around shotaro’s room to see his pictures on the wall shake. only a moment passed before shotaro went back to the game like nothing happened. sungchan had to act he didn’t just witness the most brutal screaming match he’s ever seen in his life. sungchan only continued playing on the game with his friend, subtlety trying to sneak looks to your closed bedroom door to see if you would come out.

“she’s going to act out like crazy now.” shotaro said.

sungchan had to pull his attention away from your door to his friend. shotaro tried to remain calm, but he could see his friend was visibly bothered. when the round of fighting was over, shotaro turned off the game and rubbed his temples from the stress.

“you know her top pick for college is the place you’re going to?” shotaro asked.

sungchan was the first one you told when you got accepted.

“i had no idea.” sungchan said, shaking his head.

“can you look out for her when she goes there? just until she finds a group of friends?” shotaro asks.

sungchan knew he should’ve said no. you already had friends and you were going to be an adult soon. sungchan had also promised himself that he would stop doting after you when he would leave for college. the distance would do him some good, maybe he’d finally be able to calm his heart when you came around. you were more than capable of making your own decisions, both sungchan and shotaro knew that. but when shotaro looked to sungchan and told him he’s the only person he could trust, sungchan couldn’t say no.

so when you came to campus a year after sungchan, he did what his friend asked him to. he looked out for you and kept tabs on you through mutual friends. sungchan even found himself at the frat parties you would be at on friday nights under the guise of seeing his friends. he wouldn’t drink, knowing that it would be him guiding you and your drunk friends back to the dorms. he had become your confidant, the incident from highschool long forgotten. you knew now sungchan was looking out for your best interest—the man you were going to see that night wasn’t a good person. 

once sungchan found out he was in your good graces again he was wrapped around your finger. he followed you around campus, making sure you got to your classes before he even thought about going to his. he was there for you the moment you called for him, and he found himself taking you anywhere you asked. sungchan put his car to good use, taking you to the store or to pick up food for you. sungchan was able to find an excuse for doting on you, telling himself that it was because he had to look out for you after shotaro asked. 

he only told your brother the good things. you were doing great in school, and you had found a good group of friends. sungchan never dared to tell shotaro that you went to parties in cropped shirts and even shorter skirts, that you were seeing boys, or that he was slowly developing feelings for you.

sungchan was determined to play the long game with you. he never made the first move, never even expected you to reciprocate his feelings. sungchan was happy to just be your guardian angel at the frat parties you frequented, or the person you could come to with your problems. sungchan saw himself as such a constant in your life that you didn’t notice his developing feelings. how were you supposed to know he was doting on you when you’ve been doted on your whole life?

it wasn’t until he laid on the floor of your dorm with you that he couldn’t take it anymore. you were in the middle of telling him about your most recent conquest, some random guy who was your partner for an upcoming project. sungchan sat up suddenly, not looking down at you laying next to him as he spoke.

“i don’t think it’s appropriate for you to tell me about the men you’re seeing anymore.” sungchan said.

you sat up too, not used to sungchan putting his foot down or him telling you no. 

“why not?” you seemed to think for a second before your mind started filling in the gaps of sungchan’s silence. “did you talk to my brother?” you asked.

he defended himself quickly, shaking his head to show you he was being honest. you visibly calmed down before asking your question again.

“i mean i talk to your brother everyday, but not about who you’re seeing.” sungchan said.

sungchan pulled in a deep breath and let it out. he came clean then and there on the floor of your dorm room. he told you about how shotaro asked him to watch after you when you came to campus and how he enjoyed taking care of you a little too much. 

before sungchan could confess his feelings, you did it first. you pulled sungchan in for a big kiss, throwing all of your body weight onto him. he caught you and held you, reciprocating your kisses and smiling when you pulled away. it was wordless your confession, everything communicated through smiles and shining eyes.

from that point on you and sungchan have been in a relationship. everything was the same as usual, except you didn’t go to parties as much and sungchan talked to shotaro a little less. sungchan found it extremely hard to talk to your brother about your life with you in the room. that’s why sungchan was on the phone with his bestfriend now, trying to smack away your teasing and persistent hands that messed with the buttons on his flannel.

“just say you’re busy.” you whisper.

you make sure to say it close enough to the speaker that forces sungchan to crane his body away from you.

“sorry taro i was watching a show. what did you say?” sungchan smiles when he talks to shotaro but turns away from his phone to give you a stern look.  

you hold up your hands defensively like you’re doing nothing. when sungchan’s attention goes back to his phone you go back to messing with him, pulling at the end of his flannel and leaning in to kiss his neck. 

“one second let me pause the show.” sungchan puts his hand over the speaker of his phone and looks at you. “stop it.” he commands.

sungchan’s eyes are large and indignant, trying to get you to listen to him. you try to take sungchan seriously for his sake but you can’t stop yourself from smiling. sungchan trying to boss you around is when you find him the funniest. your smile only grows when sungchan grips both of your wrists with one hand. even as he holds both of your wrists to keep you away from his body he doesn’t use much strength. it’s all for show, both of you know sungchan would crumble to you immediately if you asked. but you humor him, sitting patiently on his lap while he continues talking on the phone. 

sungchan eyes you, still holding your wrists as he listens to shotaro.

“you need me to pick her up?” sungchan looks at you, trying hard to pretend like you’re not in the room. 

“that fancy italian place? no i haven’t been.” sungchan looks at you again when you make a tiny ooh sound. “i don’t know if she’s been shotaro. how am i supposed to know that?” sungchan says.

“okay. we will meet you there at 6:30.” when sungchan sees you shake your head he stops shotaro mid sentence. “actually does 7:30—” sungchan checks your expression and when you give him a thumbs up he nods his head. “does 7:30 work instead?” he asks.

you still sit on sungchan’s lap, messing with the bottom of his flannel as he gets confirmation from shotaro. 

“okay. see you then.” 

when sungchan hangs up his phone you let your hands go underneath his shirt. he lets out a sigh of relief from being off the phone while you draw your breath in. sungchan is solid underneath your fingers, and so warm you find yourself wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

your chest is pressed against sungchan’s when he brings his arms around you too. he kisses the top of your forehead, letting a sigh slip from his lips again.

“we almost got caught.” sungchan says quietly.

“no we didn’t.” you say

you were the complete opposite to sungchan in regards to shotaro. sungchan didn’t know how you weren’t constantly panicking at the thought of shotaro finding out. sungchan knew shotaro well, and he knew that he did not play when it came to you. sungchan’s stomach dropped at the thought of shotaro finding out about the two of you. the betrayal and anger that would cross shotaro’s face winded sungchan. he couldn’t stop thinking about every single terrible outcome possible as the two of you got ready to meet shotaro for dinner. sungchan found himself not saying a word the entire car ride to the restaurant, mentally practicing how he was going to talk to you with your brother around. sungchan put his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching for your hand, and he walked in front of you to stop his mind from subconsciously trailing close behind you.

when you and sungchan met shotaro in front of the restaurant, shotaro went to hug you first. whatever playful teasing was happening was lost on sungchan, he was too busy overthinking how close he might’ve been to you. he looked at your hand twitch in between the space of your two bodies. he casually moved, afraid that you were going to grab his hand in front of shotaro. he felt the side eye from you and the confused look on shotaro’s face before he brought sungchan in for a hug.

sungchan was so focused on trying to remain as neutral as possible that the night went by him in a blur. you filled in the silence or the awkward gaps in the conversation that were a result of sungchan not listening. he was grateful for your easygoing personality, but sungchan found himself tipping his head occasionally at you, surprised you weren’t nearly as effected as he was. you were the same version of yourself, no pauses in your words or shrugging your shoulders in confusion. the only reprieve sungchan got from conversation was when the food arrived.

“i hope you guys enjoy the food.” sungchan watched the waitress smile to you and shotaro, both of you nodding your heads the same way. when the waitress got to sungchan she put a hand on his shoulder and pointed at the food on his dish. sungchan’s eyes snapped up to hers as she pointed at the plate. “i put a little extra on your plate for you.” she said, smiling at sungchan.

before sungchan could say anything the waitress was gone. he was left with the with an extra serving of food on his plate with you and your brother staring at him. shotaro had a facetious smile on his face as he continued eating his food—you looked at sungchan with wide eyes and a straight face. he couldn’t stop his face from feeling hot, trying to play off the very obvious flirting. 

“she must’ve seen how tall i am.” sungchan laughed nervously, trying to find a reason for the extra food.

“oh she must’ve.” you scoffed.

shotaro didn’t pick up on the nuance in your voice, how annoyed you sounded. he only laughed, focusing on the attention that sungchan was getting. 

“you’re all red in the face.” shotaro teased.

“no i’m not.” sungchan said back.

sungchan felt like his face was on fire as he could see you progressively get more and more upset. sungchan silently wished for his friend to be quiet, to stop digging sungchan into a hole he couldn’t get out of. the more shotaro talked the more annoyed you became, by the time the waitress came back with the check you were clenching your jaw, wordlessly pushing food around on your plate with your fork. even when the conversation shifted to sungchan catching up with shotaro, you were completely silent. sungchan wordlessly took the initiative to fill in the gaps in the conversation with questions about shotaro’s studies, or how he was adjusting to being away from home. you barely contributed to the conversation, never reacting to sungchan’s quick glances to you when shotaro was occupied with his food.

you knew that sungchan could tell you were pissed off. the way he would shake his head profusely anytime shotaro brought up the waitress  made you blood boil and when he stole quick glances you felt like rolling your eyes. you couldn’t stop thinking about the waitress and the way her eyes lingered, or how she gave sungchan nearly double his serving of food. everything was too obvious, right in sungchan’s face and he actively denied it. he was denying everything for your sake, but you had eyes of your own to see the scene laid out in front of you. you never considered yourself to be the possessive type—you never had to be. arguably the only positive effect of being spoiled was that you never had to greedy or clinging—you never had demand for something if it was handed to you without having to say a word. 

but you had a mean streak when it came to sungchan. he knew it too. he knew that you never had something not go your way. he knew you always got what “rightfully” belonged to you and never settled for anything less. but here sungchan was, blushing and shaking his head bashfully while a waitress blatantly flirted with him in front of you. a voice in the back of your mind that you’ve never heard whispered to you that sungchan liked the attention. the thought made bile brew in your stomach and the anger almost pushed you to stab your fork through the plate in front of you.

“i think we should get the check.” sungchan looked at you pushing food across your plate, a majority of it was untouched. he could see your jaw clenching and he could feel your legs becoming restless underneath the table. “it’s getting kinda late. i have a class early in the morning.” sungchan says to shotaro.

sungchan almost feels bad seeing the confusion flash across shotaro’s face, but he knows it’s time to go. sungchan was unsure how much time he had left in this restaurant before the hole he accidentally dug himself into was too deep. shotaro understood, motioning for the check to the waitress. sungchan ducked his head when he felt her gaze on him. unfortunately for sungchan you saw it all, following the waitresses line of sight straight to the side of his head. 

sungchan couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze while the check came. he focused solely on shotaro, head resting on top of his clasped hands as his own legs started becoming restless. when the waitress placed the check between shotaro and sungchan, sungchan failed at snatching the paper before shotaro could. his eyes glossed over the prices of the dishes, instead focusing on the tiny note written at the bottom. shotaro elbowed sungchan playfully, and sungchan tried to telepathically get shotaro to not say anything else.

“sungchan, she left her name and number on the receipt for you.” shotaro whispered to sungchan.

shotaro was amused by the sight, showing the paper to sungchan. before shotaro could show the receipt to you sungchan quickly snatched it from his hands. shotaro let out a small sound of surprise, raising his eyebrows comically when sungchan shook his head.

“she handed the receipt to you, so it must’ve been for you.” sungchan said quickly.

shotaro shook his head and you were so close to losing it you smiled and laughed to yourself briefly. never in your life would you have thought you’d be in this situation. you felt insane and sungchan quickly put his card in the folder to pay. he pulled out cash to tip instead, too afraid to take the pen to the paper.

“she was definitely flirting with you.” shotaro said when the waitress circled back around to collect the form of payment. “i mean look at how much food she gave you.” shotaro continues.

“it wasn’t very good though,” sungchan looks to you legs crossed in the seat, eyes wandering around the dining area apathetically. “right?” sungchan asks you.

you only shrug your shoulders, letting out a sigh as you scratch at your scalp. sungchan turns to your brother, not reacting to your extremely obvious annoyance. shotaro only focuses on sungchan, side-eyeing him when the waitress comes back. when sungchan sees you looking away he puts up his hands frantically motioning him to stop. when you look back to sungchan, shotaro gives him an extremely obvious wink. sungchan sighs and puts his reddening face in his hands. 

“hope to see you guys again!” the waitress calls after the three of you while you walk to the door.

“you will!” shotaro says playfully.

sungchan continues to walk, speeding up to try to make it to the door of the restaurant before you can. before sungchan can open the door for you, another man beats him to it. the biggest smile you’ve had all day adorns your face, and your eyes do a quick look up and down of the man holding the door open as sungchan stands directly behind you.

“thank you.” you say.

your voice is saccharine, and your eyes invite the man to look you up and down the same way. the man doesn’t spare sungchan a glance as your face takes up the lens of his sunglasses.

“you’re welcome.” the man says back.

the moment is quick, flying past shotaro as he falls behind sungchan. however sungchan freezes in front of the door then and there, replaying the moment in his mind. the candied looks and the complete turn in your mood at the drop of a hat. the honeyed look the man got is nothing like the glares sungchan got all night, and the sweet demeanor is nothing like the closed off girl that stands in front of the restaurant looking back at sungchan in annoyance. shotaro bumps into sungchan, complaining about him stopping the flow of traffic. sungchan ignores his friend, letting the quick burst of jealousy fire off in his brain. it intensifies and mellows out at the same time as sungchan clenches his fists, following shotaro as he brings you in fro a hug. 

sungchan can still see the unmistakable sour look on your face soften for the second time, your previously crossed arms open to hug shotaro back. the straps of your purse are still caught in your white knuckle grip, and you purposely avoid looking at sungchan as shotaro sways you back and forth. sungchan turns his head to face the night breeze, maybe the calm weather could calm him down.

“what are your plans for the rest of the night?” shotaro asks.

sungchan looks to you as you answer the question. he can see the gears in your mind turn, and he swears he can see the smallest smile flash across your face before your lips turn to a pout.

“i’m tired. i wanna to go back to campus.” you complain.

“what’s wrong?” shotaro stops in the middle of the parking lot, putting his hand to your forehead to check for your temperature. “are you feeling sick?”

sungchan has to remain benevolent, acting like he doesn’t feel your piercing gaze as look directly at him.

“i’m feeling very sick.” you put your hand over your stomach. “like i might throw up, actually.” you say.

shotaro is instantly worried, asking about food poisoning and asking you if anything tasted bad. sungchan looks at you making a scene in front of your brother, indirectly complaining about something sungchan couldn’t control. sungchan was able to be calm and levelheaded when it came to you, but sometimes your spoiled attitude cut through the patience. the way you looked to your brother with fake pain made sungchan scoff out loud.

“dramatic.” sungchan said under his breath.

you smiled to yourself when shotaro snapped his head to face sungchan. 

“look who’s talking.” you sneer.

sungchan felt like he was a kid again, rolling his eyes and stomping his feet at shotaro babying you. maybe sungchan was jealous that he couldn’t be the one doting after you, holding your purse in one hand while checking your temperature with the other. but he put himself in the position of being only your brothers annoyed bestfriend, so he was going to act like it.

shotaro played his role well too, stopping the two of you before you could start bickering. shotaro looked between the two of you, stern as he told sungchan to take you back to campus. sungchan fake protested—all three of you knew it was just for show. sungchan only crossed his arms across his chest before nodding his head silently. shotaro smiled and pinched his sungchan’s cheek, talking about how good of a friend he is.

“i gotta start driving back now before it gets too late.” shotaro says.

he hugs both you and sungchan, hoping that you feel better after a long rest. sungchan has to convince shotaro you’ll be alright, going the extra step to say he’ll pick you up medicine from the store if you still feel sick. shotaro thanks his friend before pulling him in for another hug. you two walk shotaro to his car to send him off.

“drive safe.” you say to shotaro.

“text me when you get home!” sungchan tells shotaro before he shuts the door.

both you and sungchan wave shotaro off as he backs out of the parking spot. you continue to wave, even long after his car disappears down the road.

almost immediately, sungchan tries to put a cautious arm around you. you look up at sungchan with your meanest look, shrugging his hand off your body as you start walking towards his car.

you can hear sungchan sigh as he starts to follow behind you, still keeping a hand close to your back incase you stumble in your heels. you looked uncomfortable in them the whole night. if you would’ve let sungchan he would’ve gladly picked you up and carried you to the car. he still opens the door for you despite you trying to beat him to it, and you have to pull the seatbelt from sungchan’s hands to stop him from buckling you in.

when sungchan gets in the car and puts the key in the ignition, neither of you say a word. you hope that sungchan doesn’t speak before you have the chance to calm yourself down. you close your eyes, to try and muster up the last bit of understanding in your body to not snap at your boyfriend. when you close your eyes all you can see is the waitress, how she flirted with sungchan and he did nothing to stop it.

when sungchan doesn’t pull out of the parking spot you open your eyes. when you hear him pull his keys from the ignition you start to get irritated. when sungchan clears his throat, you practically have smoke coming from your ears. 

“it’s not my fault a girl flirts with me.” sungchan says.

your eyes widen, indignation across your face.

“it actually is your fault.” you say.

now it’s sungchan’s turn to look upset, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you confused.

“what did you want me to do?” sungchan asks.

“maybe not pretend like you don’t notice? she was practically fucking you in front of me.” your voice starts bouncing off of the walls in the car.

sungchan’s eyes go wide and he laughs in shock, mouth open in amusement at your dramatics.

“you know you’re being ridiculous.” sungchan laughs.

hearing sungchan call you ridiculous makes the remaining bits of your patience crumble. before you know it you’re pointing an accusatory finger in sungchan’s face, your manicured nail almost poking his nose.

“you’re the one that won’t even tell my brother we’re dating!” you yell.

“he’s my bestfriend!” sungchan says, raising his hands in defense.

“but you’re my boyfriend!” you draw your hand back,fingers flat agaisnt your palm as you feel the car heating up. “what if i flirted with a waiter or went out with the guys shotaro has tried to hook me up with?”

you point is proven when sungchan has a visible reaction. he can’t help it, the way his eyes close and his mouth dips in disgust. he didn’t even realize he reacted until you pointed your whole hand at him.

“so that’s what’s ridiculous.” you say.

when sungchan says nothing back, your anger starts dipping. it turns into defeat, and the adrenaline leaving your body at such a fast rate causes you to you lean against your seat. you’re defeated, between the dinner and your unregulated emotions getting the best of you, you’re suddenly exhausted. you only lean your head against the window, staring outside as you feel the stone forming in your throat.

“just take me home, sungchan.” you say quietly.

he hears you clearly, putting his keys back in the ignition before silently pulling out of the parking lot. 

the drive back home is silent. songs play from the speakers of sungchan’s car, many of them are songs that remind him of you. he feels sick seeing you upset, leaning your head against the window not saying a word to him. you won’t even look at him, your eyes trained on passing building and stoplights. sungchan almost wishes that you’d yell at him, that you would let it all out. but he only continues to drive, the hand that would usually be on your thigh grips the steering wheel hard.

the closer sungchan got to campus, the more he felt that sinking feeling in his stomach. his mind went to the worst possibilities—you calling it off or making him choose between you and shotaro. when sungchan pulled in his reserved parking spot, he felt like he was going to be sick himself. 

sungchan didn’t know that the sick feeling in your stomach dissipated a long time ago. the migraine you got from your frustrations melted and traveled to your stomach, making your whole body feel warm. you didn’t know what to do with the jealousy and the possessiveness you felt for the first time tonight. when you noticed the empty spaces in the parking lot of students that went home for the break your mind started to wander. the feeling in your stomach turned to something that churned and pulled you towards sungchan when you noticed the deep tint of his windows. 

sungchan was too busy turning the engine off, trying to figure out how to get you to speak to him. he turned his key, hand still on the ignition as he turned to you.

“and what about you,” sungchan looks over to you. “treating shotaro like an attack dog still after all these years.” he says.

sungchan watches you take in his words through one ear just for them to fall out of the other. you’re spoiled and can never admit when you’re wrong. it’s shotaro’s doing but sungchan is no better, your attitude comes from years of everyone around you giving you what you want. sungchan remains steadfast, refusing to back down to your irrational anger. but he doesn’t see the anger in your eyes when you look to him. he sees a playful glint, and he feels your eyes look him up and down. sungchan subconsciously straightens his posture, letting silence fill the car again. 

you mess with the locks on sungchan’s door, slowly switching back and forth. the sound makes sungchan feel uneasy, how slow and constant it is as you very clearly think about something. he remains still in the drivers seat, trying to not falter. sungchan only lasts a second before looking back to you and clearing his throat.

“you’re really just not going to say anything?” sungchan asks.

sungchan feels the hair on the back of his neck raise when he sees the smile on your lips.

“get in the backseat.” you said from your spot. 

sungchan remains still, looking to you in disbelief. at a time like this, in the middle of a fight in the student parking.

“we need to talk about this.” he says.

sungchan believes that he still has authority. he can be mean when he has to be. although sungchan’s sternness is fleeting he believes that he can channel it when necessary. but the way you look at him with glossy puppy eyes reminds him why you’re so so spoiled

“can’t we talk in the backseat?” you pout.

sungchan wasted no time, barely looking at the mostly empty parking lot surrounding him as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. he pulled on the backdoor handle twice impatiently, waiting for his car to automatically unlock. 

when his car finally decided to listen, he clambered into the backseat, laying across the cushions like he has so many times before. when your relationship was new and your roommates were nosy, the only option you guys had was the backseat of his car. what was awkward at first turned to second nature, and then it became a rarity when sungchan got his own place. but now here he was, shirtless waiting for you in the backseat while you stayed in the front. sungchan looked to you, already feeling an ache in his pants from the anticipation and tension from the night.

“babe?” sungchan called out. 

you moved in the front seat, causing the car to slightly shake. sungchan was filled to the brim with excitement, reaching for the button on his pants to push his jeans down. sungchan saw your pretty manicured hand—paid by him—reach to to the backseat. your panties hung by the end of your nail, dangling in the space by sungchan’s face. before they could fall to the floor he grabbed it a little too quickly, balling it up in his hand and bringing it to his face. although he couldn’t see you he could hear you scoff and say some degrading word that made him twitch in his pants. 

sungchan wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was nasty when it came to you. he liked licking his cum off your body to clean you up. he liked pulling you up after you sucked on his dick and tasting himself on his lips. he liked making a mess of you when you were together, and he liked stealing your panties when you weren’t looking to hide them for himself. he liked smelling you after a long day after work, taking in big huffs of you as you bashfully hit his shoulders. he liked rutting his dick pathetically against your body. he liked doing those things because when he did it you’d look at him with that almost disgusted glint in your eye and call him a freak. he wore it like a badge of honor. he was a freak for you and you alone—your freak. so when he heard his title fall from your lips, all he could do was nod his head. you finally came into his view, body hunched as you made your way over the center console. 

sungchan reached his hands out to help you, one hand still holding your balled up panties. you declined his help, sitting on the other side of the car.

“are you going to keep those for yourself?” you mocked.

sungchan nodded, realizing he couldn’t see the look in your eyes well enough. he stretched to turn on the light in the backseat, illuminating the space. he could see your foot propped on the seat while the other was planted on the floor. your legs being spread gave sungchan an almost clear view of your cunt, only obstructed by the fabric of your dress fell down between your legs. sungchan squeezed your panties in his hand while licking his lips.

“come over here princess.” sungchan said.

sungchan settled against the door and spread his legs, trying to look as inviting to you as possible. he even went the extra mile to throw in your nickname, one that he used to tease you with until you would raising your voice at him. you thought about it, eye raking down his body before you shook your head.

“i don’t think you deserve it.” you say simply.

you shrug, your hands starting at your knees working their way up. sungchan clenches his hands at his side, seeing you tease yourself the same way he always does. when you reach the ends of your dress you teasingly lift them up, giving sungchan a quick peak of you. when he reaches forward to touch your inner thigh you smack his hand. sungchan recoils, going back to leaning against the door.

“what’s gotten into you?” sungchan said.

you always had the habit of bossing sungchan around, it’s been there since you both were young. but more often than not the one time you were pliant in taking whatever sungchan wanted to give you in the bedroom. the two of you came to the agreement that sungchan was more than capable of taking care of the both of you, because his pleasure was dependent on yours. he liked seeing you get weak underneath him and he liked having to take you the rest of the way when your legs failed you while riding him. 

but this was different. 

you had told sungchan so many times breathlessly that you liked when he grabbed you, you liked seeing how you seemed to fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, even if your flesh spilled out between his fingers. sungchan has seen your eyes screw shut from pleasure at from touches that were light as a feather. so sungchan had no idea why you were denying yourself the pleasure of being touched by him. he was forced to watch you sit across from him as you lifted up the bottom of your dress. you subjected him to watching you slip a small finger into your cunt, forcing him to see and hear you whine from frustration when it wasn’t enough.

“i told you that you don’t deserve it.” you added another finger, and sungchan watched you try and bend your fingers the same way he did when he was inside of you. “you don’t even act like my boyfriend.” you pouted.

sungchan kept his hands tucked underneath his thighs, nails digging into his skin. he shook his head like an idiot when he saw your mind try to comprehend you weren’t getting what you wanted.

“i’m your boyfriend baby, i promise.” sungchan squeezed your balled up underwear in his hand as you unskillfully fingered yourself. “touch your clit too.” sungchan said, nearly drooling.

you snapped out of your haze when sungchan tried to give you orders, narrowing your eyes at him. his eyes were immediately apologetic when he saw that you stopped fingering yourself completely, sliding out of your cunt with a shudder.

“i know how to masturbate, you fucking idiot.” you seethe.

sungchan nods quickly, biting his lip at your insult. the way your words cut through him with the airy tilt from stimulation has sungchan aching in his pants. he presses against the fabric of his underwear, he has to shift and move his jeans down his leg to allow for more space.

“i’m sorry baby. i just want to help.” he apologizes.

you go back to your show, smiling at your pliant boyfriend. the one who was so adamant about standing up for his wrong opinion was malleable before you, doing anything you wanted with just a simple look. all you had to do was press your finger to your clit and look to the button on sungchan’s jeans before he was hastily pushing them down of his legs. when you opens your legs a little wider he nearly tripped over himself to put hands on your body.

sungchan saw every part of you call to him—your chest that moved in tandem with your body, the dip of your hips that always allowed sungchan to have a perfect grip of you. even your eyes called to him, blown out with want and your cheeks begged to be touched. sungchan covered the expanse of your body in seconds, gasping and clutching at anything as you continued touching yourself. sungchan pressed wet kisses to your neck, trailing all the way up until he got to your ear. you loved when he did that, shivering with each kiss pressed to your skin.

“you’re mine right?” you whimpered.

sungchan pulled away to look you in your eyes. his hand tilted your chin and kept it in place when you tried to turn away. he saw your eyes almost gloss over when his hold on your face tightened.

“yes.” he said.

sungchan’s voice was no longer desperate, no longer apologetic or looking for approval as his other hand started trailing towards your cunt. you had taking your hand away from your core completely, one hand already holding the back of the driver seat for stability.

“you’re mine.” sungchan said.

he saw your head dumbly move up and down and your long eyelashes bat as you blinked away tears. your soft pretty hand from never working a day in your life went over sungchan’s large hand, slowly guiding him to your center. your plush lips almost mouthed please as sungchan just let his hand rest there, unmoving.

sungchan smiled in your face, reveling in the defeated look. all the anger was just a show, you were now desperate and nearly begging for what you wanted. this was nothing like the girl who had people submit to her like it was nothing.

“you really don’t know what to do when you don’t get what you want, huh?” sungchan cooed at you, tapping on your cheek as his other hand on your center didn’t move.

you nod your head before shaking it, hesitating before you see sungchan’s smile get bigger. he cups his hand around your head, and you pitch your hips forward slightly to get closer.

“you just get mad and hope for the best, don’t you?” sungchan asks.

you nod again, and you continue nodding until sungchan slips his iddle finger and ring finger into your heat. your eyes close and your hand goes to sungchan’s hand that still holds your face. he doesn’t stop pumping into your heat, looking down at your furrowed eyebrows and your wobbling legs. he slides in so easily, and he can see how pitiful you are so clearly from up here. sungchan taps your lip with his finger. you part your lips so sungchan can lick them, and you open wider so he can slip his tongue into your mouth. you whine instantly, bringing both hands to grip sungchan’s shoulders. you tilt your head to give him a better angle, even if it sacrifices your own comfort.

he picks up the pace of your fingers, just to feel how you fall behind his kisses. sungchan pulls away, purposely letting spit dribble from the corner of your lips.

“you’re so spoiled.” sungchan says amazed.

“it’s your fault. you always give me everything i want.” you say nearly breathless.

you have a small smile as you struggle to open your eyes. when you finally do, sungchan picks up the speed to wipe the knowing look off your face. you’re a mess all over again, mouth opening while pitiful high-pitched whimpers fall from your lips.

before you can tell sungchan you’re close he speaks first.

“i don’t think you deserve to cum.” he says mockingly.

instantly your eyes open, tears threatening to spill at the denial of something so sweet. sungchan only watches you in amusement, still trying to decide your fate.

“you want me to give it to you?” sungchan asks.

you nod, hands reaching down to pull at the elastic of his underwear. sungchan smiles, pulling away from you to free his dick from his pants. you pull your legs from the center console, tucking them underneath you while you wait for sungchan to give you what you want. with your underwear still balled in his hands he beckons to you, spreading out his naked body like he’s your new seat. 

you close the small space quickly, pushing your face into sunghcna’s. it’s rushed, you miss a beat when he smiles against your lips at your desperation. he guides your hips to straddle his hips, and you put your hand against the fogging window as the other rests in the crook of his neck.

when you pull apart sungchan bunches your dress at your hips, exposing your lower half to him. he looks down before letting a glob of spit land on his heavy dick. it’s against his stomach, occasionally twitching upwards when you dig your nails into his skin. his hand goes to his dick, mixing the spit and precum down his shaft as lubrication. his other hand guides your hips forward until you hover above him. you pull in a gasp in anticipation.

“ready?” sungchan asks, smile on his lips.

before you can say yes, sungchan slides you down on his dick. he stretched you out, this new angle in the cramped space causes your body to seize before relaxing. sungchan hisses as he finishes sliding in. your head goes to the crook of his neck, whimpering at his pulsing dick buried deep in you. sungchan’s face is void of pity as he drags your body up to make you take him all again. you do nothing but whine and moan pitifully into sungchan’s neck, sucking on his skin to satisfy your oral fixation. sungchan takes your hand that presses against the window to pull it behind your back. lack of stability causing you to lean more into him, and takes away any attempt you could make at pulling yourself up from sungchan.

“you like it?” sungchan pulls your body up before bringing you down harder. “when i tell you that you belong to me?” sungchan whispers into your ear.

his voice is strained, holding back grunts from the way your walls squeeze around him and pull him in.

“i do.” you whine.

sungchan lets go of your hand but you keep it there, placing it on his thigh to try and hold your body up. sungchan thrusts up into you quickly at your suspended state, completely changing the pace he had set. you dig your nails into his flexed thigh as a result. he watches your chest bounce in the confines of your dress. part of him wants to rip it off of you, but a bigger part of him wants to keep you completely covered in case someone catches you two out here. sungchan refused to have too much of you exposed in public, seeing your body in all its naked glory was reserved for him and him alone.

“this pussy belongs to me.” sungchan presses his finger to your clit, and your body curls into him even further. you’re a whining mess, letting yes repeatedly fall from your lips when sungchan rubbing revolutions on your bundle of nerves. “you don't even treat her right.” he scoffs.

“please give it me sungchan.” youpull away from the crook of his neck to reveal your tear tracks, wet and shimmering down the sides of your face. 

sungchan tried his best to remain mean. but seeing your glossy self-bitten lips and your wet face softened sungchan. he still snapped his hips up into you that caused your chest to jump and his car to shake, but he cooed at your pitiful face and kissed your salty tears before swiping them away with his thumb. he kissed your forehead and wrapped an arm around your back underneath your arm to bring your chest close to his.

“anything for you, baby.” he moaned quietly.

sungchan’s voice was gentle with you, but the change in the way he fucked you was not. suddenly the arm wrapped around your back pulled you up and he snaked his arm underneath your leg to hike it up. he lifted your body with small grunts to bring you down harshly, making you cry out loud. crescent moons were digging into sungchan’s skin and you could feel your nails bending from the pressure. the sound of your hips coming down on sungchan’s filled the car, mixed with moans he finally let slip from his lips. you were both getting high off of getting fucked, your walls clamped around his dick in a vice grip that had sungchan cursing your name. how could he not give you everything you wanted while you felt like this inside. you both looked down where you two met, watching sungchan disappear inside of you to hit deep in your stomach. he looked up at you, blowing a piece of hair from his line of sight.

“look at me.” sungchan grunted in between thrusts. 

you listened immediately, eyes glazing over as you got close to your peak again.

“you’re gonna cum just for me?” sungchan asked.

you nodded, words fractured anytime you tried to speak.

“so close.” you stuttered.

“i can tell.” sungchan said knowingly.

“cum—” you stopped mid sentence to lean into sungchan’s chest. you looked up at him from your place on his chest and he looked down at you, eyes full of love as he watched you become more and more undown. your walls held him a little tighter when he tried lifting you. “cum inside. all yours.” you babbled.

that was all sungchan needed to hear. he pulled you down one last time, gridning his hips against yours to stimulate your clit. sungchan’s eyes looked everywhere, and felt your drool on his chest as you slapped his thigh. it was always a telltale sign for you, trying to relieve your tension. sungchan grabbed your hand to limit the movement and continued moving his hips.

you let out one final cry before arching your back against sungchan’s chest, and he held you in place. you squeezed around him over and over, milking his dick until he had no more left to give you. your wet walls still pulsed, so much that sungchan could feel his cum seeping out past his dick. you went completely limp against him, your loud cries turning into soft whimpers as your body started shaking. if sungchan touched you, you whined, and when he didn’t touch you you pressed your chest closer to his. it was a game sungchan didn’t want to win.

“i really always do give you what you want.” sungchan said.

it was a quiet revelation, one you had a long time ago back when you two were kids fighting over pointless things.

“yeah. you do.”

[prettyboysun]

anything 4 u | j. sc

brothers bestfriend!sungchan x fem. reader | 9k words

loosely inspired by “anything 4 u” by lany. this damn near killed me to write omfg.

contains: arguing, double standards, a little possessive? on both sides, sungchan and the reader are both a little mean. unprotected sex.

before you came into the world as shotaro’s little sister, sungchan was his bestfriend. they were friends before they could walk, gravitating towards one another even as crawling babies. sungchan was shotaro’s first sibling, crossing the threshold of being his bestfriend in such a short amount of time. shotaro was the closest thing sungchan would ever have to a sibling, he was the only child in his house. 

“can you stop messing with her, sungchan?”

when you joined the mix, sungchan wasn’t on board. he discovered jealousy as a toddler, having to share shotaro’s attention with his new little sister. he didn’t understand what was so interesting about you, why shotaro wanted to spend all of his time watching you be an annoying baby instead of playing outside. sungchan would complain when his bestfriend would drop everything to go to you when you’d cry. sungchan would complain when they couldn’t play rough with you or that you couldn’t play video games. sungchan would go over to shotaro’s house only to find out he was going to be the plus one at your princess tea parties.

sungchan let his jealousy turn to teasing and he became the first and only person to get away with it. shotaro only watched your interactions and laugh, knowing you’d get him back tenfold. by the time both of you were preteens, you and sungchan had built a relationship that bordered bullying. you always made sure to come out on top, only having to tell shotaro that sungchan was bothering you so he could collect his friend. 

when you two first became teens, sungchan found himself seeing you in a different light. the teasing had started to become forced on sungchan’s part in an effort to hide his emotions. he was able to convince himself that it was normal to feel that way about you from the proximity of being together and how familiar your personality was. but when sungchan was around you he forgot his words and only received your teases instead of dishing them out the way he used to.

by the time sungchan was about to go off to college, he had started to become protective of you. he tried to make his protectiveness logical, blaming it on the fact that he would be going to school away from his bestfriend, like he was compensating for the future knowing he’d be so far away from his friend. sungchan also blamed it on the fact that no one else seemed to notice you were always texting someone on your phone and you coming to the house late at night. sungchan was basically forced took to bare the burden of being your protector and to stop you from making bad decisions.

when you found out sungchan was no longer the immature boy who pulled your pigtails or stole your toys, you found yourself coming to him more. he was able to give you unbiased opinions, and you could tell him about the crushes or failed relationships that broke your hear. he was a familiar face in your life, one you didn’t mind spilling your heart out to. sungchan had found you a couple times crying your eyes out over something unimportant. sungchan followed the sound of your gentle sobs when you thought you were alone, slowly opening your door telling you everything was going to be okay. each time he was comforting and nonjudgemental, letting you get it all out before helping you find a solution.

the relationship you had with sungchan turned into something strange. you found yourself telling him things you could never tell shotaro or anyone you saw as a brotherly figure. at the same time sungchan didn’t feel like just a friend. there was something more when it came to sungchan, something you tried to ignore. you combated the turbulent emotions it by telling sungchan about all your newest romantic endeavors, hoping that it would make you only see him as a friend.

sungchan found out quickly he couldn’t be someone you came to in relation to boys. you had shown sungchan one too many photos of your direct messages, filled with non-deserving boys trying to get with you. the messages all began the same, all of them acting ignorant to the fact that you were shotaro’s sister, or that sungchan was always near you. too many of the faces and named were familiar, some of them even running in the same social circles as sungchan and shotaro. seeing the messages made his blood boil, causing him to accidentally tell shotaro something he wasn’t supposed to know about.

shotaro was surprisingly calm about the situation. sungchan saw his friend be the calmest he’s ever seen when it came to protecting you. shotaro only tilted his head slightly while asking extremely specific questions. sungchan answered calmly, suddenly embarrassed that he seemed more angry about you seeing guys than your overprotective brother was. when sungchan was done answering shotaro’s questions everything was back to normal. the two continued playing basketball like nothing had happened. 

sungchan had almost forgotten what he told shotaro until you came home the next day. the two were playing a game when you stomped through the house screaming their names. sungchan was wide-eyed and shocked, but shotaro was completely calm as he continued to play.

“up here.” shotaro said casually.

sungchan could hear each stomp up the stairs. sungchan had stopped playing, only focused on shotaro’s closed door that he was sure you was going to break down soon. 

you came through the door so fast the door hit the wall and recoiled back. shotaro only looked up after he killed sungchan’s character in the fighting game, looking at his door that slammed against the wall.

“mom is gonna kill you.” shotaro said evenly.

“i’m going to kill you!” your wild eyes locked on sungchan’s, and you brought a finger up to point at him. “then i’m going to kill you!” you yelled.

that’s when shotaro got upset and leapt to his friend’s defense. when shotaro stood up and started yelling back at you sungchan was frozen on the bed with his head on a swivel watching the screaming match in front of him. sungchan had no siblings, so he could never understand how you two were going at it so viciously or loudly. what sungchan understood was to keep his mouth shut as you two went at it. he knew better than to interject and become the new target both of you focused on. 

so sungchan held his tongue, even when he knew shotaro was acting irrationally. he could tell you knew your brother was being ridiculous by the way you let out a deep breath and pinched the bridge of your nose. before you could argue back sungchan saw you give shotaro a simple smile and a head tilt. it was the same expression shotaro gave sungchan when digging for information about your date.

you said nothing else to shotaro or sungchan. you turned around and left, slamming your door behind you. sungchan looked around shotaro’s room to see his pictures on the wall shake. only a moment passed before shotaro went back to the game like nothing happened. sungchan had to act he didn’t just witness the most brutal screaming match he’s ever seen in his life. sungchan only continued playing on the game with his friend, subtlety trying to sneak looks to your closed bedroom door to see if you would come out.

“she’s going to act out like crazy now.” shotaro said.

sungchan had to pull his attention away from your door to his friend. shotaro tried to remain calm, but he could see his friend was visibly bothered. when the round of fighting was over, shotaro turned off the game and rubbed his temples from the stress.

“you know her top pick for college is the place you’re going to?” shotaro asked.

sungchan was the first one you told when you got accepted.

“i had no idea.” sungchan said, shaking his head.

“can you look out for her when she goes there? just until she finds a group of friends?” shotaro asks.

sungchan knew he should’ve said no. you already had friends and you were going to be an adult soon. sungchan had also promised himself that he would stop doting after you when he would leave for college. the distance would do him some good, maybe he’d finally be able to calm his heart when you came around. you were more than capable of making your own decisions, both sungchan and shotaro knew that. but when shotaro looked to sungchan and told him he’s the only person he could trust, sungchan couldn’t say no.

so when you came to campus a year after sungchan, he did what his friend asked him to. he looked out for you and kept tabs on you through mutual friends. sungchan even found himself at the frat parties you would be at on friday nights under the guise of seeing his friends. he wouldn’t drink, knowing that it would be him guiding you and your drunk friends back to the dorms. he had become your confidant, the incident from highschool long forgotten. you knew now sungchan was looking out for your best interest—the man you were going to see that night wasn’t a good person. 

once sungchan found out he was in your good graces again he was wrapped around your finger. he followed you around campus, making sure you got to your classes before he even thought about going to his. he was there for you the moment you called for him, and he found himself taking you anywhere you asked. sungchan put his car to good use, taking you to the store or to pick up food for you. sungchan was able to find an excuse for doting on you, telling himself that it was because he had to look out for you after shotaro asked. 

he only told your brother the good things. you were doing great in school, and you had found a good group of friends. sungchan never dared to tell shotaro that you went to parties in cropped shirts and even shorter skirts, that you were seeing boys, or that he was slowly developing feelings for you.

sungchan was determined to play the long game with you. he never made the first move, never even expected you to reciprocate his feelings. sungchan was happy to just be your guardian angel at the frat parties you frequented, or the person you could come to with your problems. sungchan saw himself as such a constant in your life that you didn’t notice his developing feelings. how were you supposed to know he was doting on you when you’ve been doted on your whole life?

it wasn’t until he laid on the floor of your dorm with you that he couldn’t take it anymore. you were in the middle of telling him about your most recent conquest, some random guy who was your partner for an upcoming project. sungchan sat up suddenly, not looking down at you laying next to him as he spoke.

“i don’t think it’s appropriate for you to tell me about the men you’re seeing anymore.” sungchan said.

you sat up too, not used to sungchan putting his foot down or him telling you no. 

“why not?” you seemed to think for a second before your mind started filling in the gaps of sungchan’s silence. “did you talk to my brother?” you asked.

he defended himself quickly, shaking his head to show you he was being honest. you visibly calmed down before asking your question again.

“i mean i talk to your brother everyday, but not about who you’re seeing.” sungchan said.

sungchan pulled in a deep breath and let it out. he came clean then and there on the floor of your dorm room. he told you about how shotaro asked him to watch after you when you came to campus and how he enjoyed taking care of you a little too much. 

before sungchan could confess his feelings, you did it first. you pulled sungchan in for a big kiss, throwing all of your body weight onto him. he caught you and held you, reciprocating your kisses and smiling when you pulled away. it was wordless your confession, everything communicated through smiles and shining eyes.

from that point on you and sungchan have been in a relationship. everything was the same as usual, except you didn’t go to parties as much and sungchan talked to shotaro a little less. sungchan found it extremely hard to talk to your brother about your life with you in the room. that’s why sungchan was on the phone with his bestfriend now, trying to smack away your teasing and persistent hands that messed with the buttons on his flannel.

“just say you’re busy.” you whisper.

you make sure to say it close enough to the speaker that forces sungchan to crane his body away from you.

“sorry taro i was watching a show. what did you say?” sungchan smiles when he talks to shotaro but turns away from his phone to give you a stern look.  

you hold up your hands defensively like you’re doing nothing. when sungchan’s attention goes back to his phone you go back to messing with him, pulling at the end of his flannel and leaning in to kiss his neck. 

“one second let me pause the show.” sungchan puts his hand over the speaker of his phone and looks at you. “stop it.” he commands.

sungchan’s eyes are large and indignant, trying to get you to listen to him. you try to take sungchan seriously for his sake but you can’t stop yourself from smiling. sungchan trying to boss you around is when you find him the funniest. your smile only grows when sungchan grips both of your wrists with one hand. even as he holds both of your wrists to keep you away from his body he doesn’t use much strength. it’s all for show, both of you know sungchan would crumble to you immediately if you asked. but you humor him, sitting patiently on his lap while he continues talking on the phone. 

sungchan eyes you, still holding your wrists as he listens to shotaro.

“you need me to pick her up?” sungchan looks at you, trying hard to pretend like you’re not in the room. 

“that fancy italian place? no i haven’t been.” sungchan looks at you again when you make a tiny ooh sound. “i don’t know if she’s been shotaro. how am i supposed to know that?” sungchan says.

“okay. we will meet you there at 6:30.” when sungchan sees you shake your head he stops shotaro mid sentence. “actually does 7:30—” sungchan checks your expression and when you give him a thumbs up he nods his head. “does 7:30 work instead?” he asks.

you still sit on sungchan’s lap, messing with the bottom of his flannel as he gets confirmation from shotaro. 

“okay. see you then.” 

when sungchan hangs up his phone you let your hands go underneath his shirt. he lets out a sigh of relief from being off the phone while you draw your breath in. sungchan is solid underneath your fingers, and so warm you find yourself wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

your chest is pressed against sungchan’s when he brings his arms around you too. he kisses the top of your forehead, letting a sigh slip from his lips again.

“we almost got caught.” sungchan says quietly.

“no we didn’t.” you say

you were the complete opposite to sungchan in regards to shotaro. sungchan didn’t know how you weren’t constantly panicking at the thought of shotaro finding out. sungchan knew shotaro well, and he knew that he did not play when it came to you. sungchan’s stomach dropped at the thought of shotaro finding out about the two of you. the betrayal and anger that would cross shotaro’s face winded sungchan. he couldn’t stop thinking about every single terrible outcome possible as the two of you got ready to meet shotaro for dinner. sungchan found himself not saying a word the entire car ride to the restaurant, mentally practicing how he was going to talk to you with your brother around. sungchan put his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching for your hand, and he walked in front of you to stop his mind from subconsciously trailing close behind you.

when you and sungchan met shotaro in front of the restaurant, shotaro went to hug you first. whatever playful teasing was happening was lost on sungchan, he was too busy overthinking how close he might’ve been to you. he looked at your hand twitch in between the space of your two bodies. he casually moved, afraid that you were going to grab his hand in front of shotaro. he felt the side eye from you and the confused look on shotaro’s face before he brought sungchan in for a hug.

sungchan was so focused on trying to remain as neutral as possible that the night went by him in a blur. you filled in the silence or the awkward gaps in the conversation that were a result of sungchan not listening. he was grateful for your easygoing personality, but sungchan found himself tipping his head occasionally at you, surprised you weren’t nearly as effected as he was. you were the same version of yourself, no pauses in your words or shrugging your shoulders in confusion. the only reprieve sungchan got from conversation was when the food arrived.

“i hope you guys enjoy the food.” sungchan watched the waitress smile to you and shotaro, both of you nodding your heads the same way. when the waitress got to sungchan she put a hand on his shoulder and pointed at the food on his dish. sungchan’s eyes snapped up to hers as she pointed at the plate. “i put a little extra on your plate for you.” she said, smiling at sungchan.

before sungchan could say anything the waitress was gone. he was left with the with an extra serving of food on his plate with you and your brother staring at him. shotaro had a facetious smile on his face as he continued eating his food—you looked at sungchan with wide eyes and a straight face. he couldn’t stop his face from feeling hot, trying to play off the very obvious flirting. 

“she must’ve seen how tall i am.” sungchan laughed nervously, trying to find a reason for the extra food.

“oh she must’ve.” you scoffed.

shotaro didn’t pick up on the nuance in your voice, how annoyed you sounded. he only laughed, focusing on the attention that sungchan was getting. 

“you’re all red in the face.” shotaro teased.

“no i’m not.” sungchan said back.

sungchan felt like his face was on fire as he could see you progressively get more and more upset. sungchan silently wished for his friend to be quiet, to stop digging sungchan into a hole he couldn’t get out of. the more shotaro talked the more annoyed you became, by the time the waitress came back with the check you were clenching your jaw, wordlessly pushing food around on your plate with your fork. even when the conversation shifted to sungchan catching up with shotaro, you were completely silent. sungchan wordlessly took the initiative to fill in the gaps in the conversation with questions about shotaro’s studies, or how he was adjusting to being away from home. you barely contributed to the conversation, never reacting to sungchan’s quick glances to you when shotaro was occupied with his food.

you knew that sungchan could tell you were pissed off. the way he would shake his head profusely anytime shotaro brought up the waitress  made you blood boil and when he stole quick glances you felt like rolling your eyes. you couldn’t stop thinking about the waitress and the way her eyes lingered, or how she gave sungchan nearly double his serving of food. everything was too obvious, right in sungchan’s face and he actively denied it. he was denying everything for your sake, but you had eyes of your own to see the scene laid out in front of you. you never considered yourself to be the possessive type—you never had to be. arguably the only positive effect of being spoiled was that you never had to greedy or clinging—you never had demand for something if it was handed to you without having to say a word. 

but you had a mean streak when it came to sungchan. he knew it too. he knew that you never had something not go your way. he knew you always got what “rightfully” belonged to you and never settled for anything less. but here sungchan was, blushing and shaking his head bashfully while a waitress blatantly flirted with him in front of you. a voice in the back of your mind that you’ve never heard whispered to you that sungchan liked the attention. the thought made bile brew in your stomach and the anger almost pushed you to stab your fork through the plate in front of you.

“i think we should get the check.” sungchan looked at you pushing food across your plate, a majority of it was untouched. he could see your jaw clenching and he could feel your legs becoming restless underneath the table. “it’s getting kinda late. i have a class early in the morning.” sungchan says to shotaro.

sungchan almost feels bad seeing the confusion flash across shotaro’s face, but he knows it’s time to go. sungchan was unsure how much time he had left in this restaurant before the hole he accidentally dug himself into was too deep. shotaro understood, motioning for the check to the waitress. sungchan ducked his head when he felt her gaze on him. unfortunately for sungchan you saw it all, following the waitresses line of sight straight to the side of his head. 

sungchan couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze while the check came. he focused solely on shotaro, head resting on top of his clasped hands as his own legs started becoming restless. when the waitress placed the check between shotaro and sungchan, sungchan failed at snatching the paper before shotaro could. his eyes glossed over the prices of the dishes, instead focusing on the tiny note written at the bottom. shotaro elbowed sungchan playfully, and sungchan tried to telepathically get shotaro to not say anything else.

“sungchan, she left her name and number on the receipt for you.” shotaro whispered to sungchan.

shotaro was amused by the sight, showing the paper to sungchan. before shotaro could show the receipt to you sungchan quickly snatched it from his hands. shotaro let out a small sound of surprise, raising his eyebrows comically when sungchan shook his head.

“she handed the receipt to you, so it must’ve been for you.” sungchan said quickly.

shotaro shook his head and you were so close to losing it you smiled and laughed to yourself briefly. never in your life would you have thought you’d be in this situation. you felt insane and sungchan quickly put his card in the folder to pay. he pulled out cash to tip instead, too afraid to take the pen to the paper.

“she was definitely flirting with you.” shotaro said when the waitress circled back around to collect the form of payment. “i mean look at how much food she gave you.” shotaro continues.

“it wasn’t very good though,” sungchan looks to you legs crossed in the seat, eyes wandering around the dining area apathetically. “right?” sungchan asks you.

you only shrug your shoulders, letting out a sigh as you scratch at your scalp. sungchan turns to your brother, not reacting to your extremely obvious annoyance. shotaro only focuses on sungchan, side-eyeing him when the waitress comes back. when sungchan sees you looking away he puts up his hands frantically motioning him to stop. when you look back to sungchan, shotaro gives him an extremely obvious wink. sungchan sighs and puts his reddening face in his hands. 

“hope to see you guys again!” the waitress calls after the three of you while you walk to the door.

“you will!” shotaro says playfully.

sungchan continues to walk, speeding up to try to make it to the door of the restaurant before you can. before sungchan can open the door for you, another man beats him to it. the biggest smile you’ve had all day adorns your face, and your eyes do a quick look up and down of the man holding the door open as sungchan stands directly behind you.

“thank you.” you say.

your voice is saccharine, and your eyes invite the man to look you up and down the same way. the man doesn’t spare sungchan a glance as your face takes up the lens of his sunglasses.

“you’re welcome.” the man says back.

the moment is quick, flying past shotaro as he falls behind sungchan. however sungchan freezes in front of the door then and there, replaying the moment in his mind. the candied looks and the complete turn in your mood at the drop of a hat. the honeyed look the man got is nothing like the glares sungchan got all night, and the sweet demeanor is nothing like the closed off girl that stands in front of the restaurant looking back at sungchan in annoyance. shotaro bumps into sungchan, complaining about him stopping the flow of traffic. sungchan ignores his friend, letting the quick burst of jealousy fire off in his brain. it intensifies and mellows out at the same time as sungchan clenches his fists, following shotaro as he brings you in fro a hug. 

sungchan can still see the unmistakable sour look on your face soften for the second time, your previously crossed arms open to hug shotaro back. the straps of your purse are still caught in your white knuckle grip, and you purposely avoid looking at sungchan as shotaro sways you back and forth. sungchan turns his head to face the night breeze, maybe the calm weather could calm him down.

“what are your plans for the rest of the night?” shotaro asks.

sungchan looks to you as you answer the question. he can see the gears in your mind turn, and he swears he can see the smallest smile flash across your face before your lips turn to a pout.

“i’m tired. i wanna to go back to campus.” you complain.

“what’s wrong?” shotaro stops in the middle of the parking lot, putting his hand to your forehead to check for your temperature. “are you feeling sick?”

sungchan has to remain benevolent, acting like he doesn’t feel your piercing gaze as look directly at him.

“i’m feeling very sick.” you put your hand over your stomach. “like i might throw up, actually.” you say.

shotaro is instantly worried, asking about food poisoning and asking you if anything tasted bad. sungchan looks at you making a scene in front of your brother, indirectly complaining about something sungchan couldn’t control. sungchan was able to be calm and levelheaded when it came to you, but sometimes your spoiled attitude cut through the patience. the way you looked to your brother with fake pain made sungchan scoff out loud.

“dramatic.” sungchan said under his breath.

you smiled to yourself when shotaro snapped his head to face sungchan. 

“look who’s talking.” you sneer.

sungchan felt like he was a kid again, rolling his eyes and stomping his feet at shotaro babying you. maybe sungchan was jealous that he couldn’t be the one doting after you, holding your purse in one hand while checking your temperature with the other. but he put himself in the position of being only your brothers annoyed bestfriend, so he was going to act like it.

shotaro played his role well too, stopping the two of you before you could start bickering. shotaro looked between the two of you, stern as he told sungchan to take you back to campus. sungchan fake protested—all three of you knew it was just for show. sungchan only crossed his arms across his chest before nodding his head silently. shotaro smiled and pinched his sungchan’s cheek, talking about how good of a friend he is.

“i gotta start driving back now before it gets too late.” shotaro says.

he hugs both you and sungchan, hoping that you feel better after a long rest. sungchan has to convince shotaro you’ll be alright, going the extra step to say he’ll pick you up medicine from the store if you still feel sick. shotaro thanks his friend before pulling him in for another hug. you two walk shotaro to his car to send him off.

“drive safe.” you say to shotaro.

“text me when you get home!” sungchan tells shotaro before he shuts the door.

both you and sungchan wave shotaro off as he backs out of the parking spot. you continue to wave, even long after his car disappears down the road.

almost immediately, sungchan tries to put a cautious arm around you. you look up at sungchan with your meanest look, shrugging his hand off your body as you start walking towards his car.

you can hear sungchan sigh as he starts to follow behind you, still keeping a hand close to your back incase you stumble in your heels. you looked uncomfortable in them the whole night. if you would’ve let sungchan he would’ve gladly picked you up and carried you to the car. he still opens the door for you despite you trying to beat him to it, and you have to pull the seatbelt from sungchan’s hands to stop him from buckling you in.

when sungchan gets in the car and puts the key in the ignition, neither of you say a word. you hope that sungchan doesn’t speak before you have the chance to calm yourself down. you close your eyes, to try and muster up the last bit of understanding in your body to not snap at your boyfriend. when you close your eyes all you can see is the waitress, how she flirted with sungchan and he did nothing to stop it.

when sungchan doesn’t pull out of the parking spot you open your eyes. when you hear him pull his keys from the ignition you start to get irritated. when sungchan clears his throat, you practically have smoke coming from your ears. 

“it’s not my fault a girl flirts with me.” sungchan says.

your eyes widen, indignation across your face.

“it actually is your fault.” you say.

now it’s sungchan’s turn to look upset, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you confused.

“what did you want me to do?” sungchan asks.

“maybe not pretend like you don’t notice? she was practically fucking you in front of me.” your voice starts bouncing off of the walls in the car.

sungchan’s eyes go wide and he laughs in shock, mouth open in amusement at your dramatics.

“you know you’re being ridiculous.” sungchan laughs.

hearing sungchan call you ridiculous makes the remaining bits of your patience crumble. before you know it you’re pointing an accusatory finger in sungchan’s face, your manicured nail almost poking his nose.

“you’re the one that won’t even tell my brother we’re dating!” you yell.

“he’s my bestfriend!” sungchan says, raising his hands in defense.

“but you’re my boyfriend!” you draw your hand back,fingers flat agaisnt your palm as you feel the car heating up. “what if i flirted with a waiter or went out with the guys shotaro has tried to hook me up with?”

you point is proven when sungchan has a visible reaction. he can’t help it, the way his eyes close and his mouth dips in disgust. he didn’t even realize he reacted until you pointed your whole hand at him.

“so that’s what’s ridiculous.” you say.

when sungchan says nothing back, your anger starts dipping. it turns into defeat, and the adrenaline leaving your body at such a fast rate causes you to you lean against your seat. you’re defeated, between the dinner and your unregulated emotions getting the best of you, you’re suddenly exhausted. you only lean your head against the window, staring outside as you feel the stone forming in your throat.

“just take me home, sungchan.” you say quietly.

he hears you clearly, putting his keys back in the ignition before silently pulling out of the parking lot. 

the drive back home is silent. songs play from the speakers of sungchan’s car, many of them are songs that remind him of you. he feels sick seeing you upset, leaning your head against the window not saying a word to him. you won’t even look at him, your eyes trained on passing building and stoplights. sungchan almost wishes that you’d yell at him, that you would let it all out. but he only continues to drive, the hand that would usually be on your thigh grips the steering wheel hard.

the closer sungchan got to campus, the more he felt that sinking feeling in his stomach. his mind went to the worst possibilities—you calling it off or making him choose between you and shotaro. when sungchan pulled in his reserved parking spot, he felt like he was going to be sick himself. 

sungchan didn’t know that the sick feeling in your stomach dissipated a long time ago. the migraine you got from your frustrations melted and traveled to your stomach, making your whole body feel warm. you didn’t know what to do with the jealousy and the possessiveness you felt for the first time tonight. when you noticed the empty spaces in the parking lot of students that went home for the break your mind started to wander. the feeling in your stomach turned to something that churned and pulled you towards sungchan when you noticed the deep tint of his windows. 

sungchan was too busy turning the engine off, trying to figure out how to get you to speak to him. he turned his key, hand still on the ignition as he turned to you.

“and what about you,” sungchan looks over to you. “treating shotaro like an attack dog still after all these years.” he says.

sungchan watches you take in his words through one ear just for them to fall out of the other. you’re spoiled and can never admit when you’re wrong. it’s shotaro’s doing but sungchan is no better, your attitude comes from years of everyone around you giving you what you want. sungchan remains steadfast, refusing to back down to your irrational anger. but he doesn’t see the anger in your eyes when you look to him. he sees a playful glint, and he feels your eyes look him up and down. sungchan subconsciously straightens his posture, letting silence fill the car again. 

you mess with the locks on sungchan’s door, slowly switching back and forth. the sound makes sungchan feel uneasy, how slow and constant it is as you very clearly think about something. he remains still in the drivers seat, trying to not falter. sungchan only lasts a second before looking back to you and clearing his throat.

“you’re really just not going to say anything?” sungchan asks.

sungchan feels the hair on the back of his neck raise when he sees the smile on your lips.

“get in the backseat.” you said from your spot. 

sungchan remains still, looking to you in disbelief. at a time like this, in the middle of a fight in the student parking.

“we need to talk about this.” he says.

sungchan believes that he still has authority. he can be mean when he has to be. although sungchan’s sternness is fleeting he believes that he can channel it when necessary. but the way you look at him with glossy puppy eyes reminds him why you’re so so spoiled

“can’t we talk in the backseat?” you pout.

sungchan wasted no time, barely looking at the mostly empty parking lot surrounding him as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. he pulled on the backdoor handle twice impatiently, waiting for his car to automatically unlock. 

when his car finally decided to listen, he clambered into the backseat, laying across the cushions like he has so many times before. when your relationship was new and your roommates were nosy, the only option you guys had was the backseat of his car. what was awkward at first turned to second nature, and then it became a rarity when sungchan got his own place. but now here he was, shirtless waiting for you in the backseat while you stayed in the front. sungchan looked to you, already feeling an ache in his pants from the anticipation and tension from the night.

“babe?” sungchan called out. 

you moved in the front seat, causing the car to slightly shake. sungchan was filled to the brim with excitement, reaching for the button on his pants to push his jeans down. sungchan saw your pretty manicured hand—paid by him—reach to to the backseat. your panties hung by the end of your nail, dangling in the space by sungchan’s face. before they could fall to the floor he grabbed it a little too quickly, balling it up in his hand and bringing it to his face. although he couldn’t see you he could hear you scoff and say some degrading word that made him twitch in his pants. 

sungchan wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was nasty when it came to you. he liked licking his cum off your body to clean you up. he liked pulling you up after you sucked on his dick and tasting himself on his lips. he liked making a mess of you when you were together, and he liked stealing your panties when you weren’t looking to hide them for himself. he liked smelling you after a long day after work, taking in big huffs of you as you bashfully hit his shoulders. he liked rutting his dick pathetically against your body. he liked doing those things because when he did it you’d look at him with that almost disgusted glint in your eye and call him a freak. he wore it like a badge of honor. he was a freak for you and you alone—your freak. so when he heard his title fall from your lips, all he could do was nod his head. you finally came into his view, body hunched as you made your way over the center console. 

sungchan reached his hands out to help you, one hand still holding your balled up panties. you declined his help, sitting on the other side of the car.

“are you going to keep those for yourself?” you mocked.

sungchan nodded, realizing he couldn’t see the look in your eyes well enough. he stretched to turn on the light in the backseat, illuminating the space. he could see your foot propped on the seat while the other was planted on the floor. your legs being spread gave sungchan an almost clear view of your cunt, only obstructed by the fabric of your dress fell down between your legs. sungchan squeezed your panties in his hand while licking his lips.

“come over here princess.” sungchan said.

sungchan settled against the door and spread his legs, trying to look as inviting to you as possible. he even went the extra mile to throw in your nickname, one that he used to tease you with until you would raising your voice at him. you thought about it, eye raking down his body before you shook your head.

“i don’t think you deserve it.” you say simply.

you shrug, your hands starting at your knees working their way up. sungchan clenches his hands at his side, seeing you tease yourself the same way he always does. when you reach the ends of your dress you teasingly lift them up, giving sungchan a quick peak of you. when he reaches forward to touch your inner thigh you smack his hand. sungchan recoils, going back to leaning against the door.

“what’s gotten into you?” sungchan said.

you always had the habit of bossing sungchan around, it’s been there since you both were young. but more often than not the one time you were pliant in taking whatever sungchan wanted to give you in the bedroom. the two of you came to the agreement that sungchan was more than capable of taking care of the both of you, because his pleasure was dependent on yours. he liked seeing you get weak underneath him and he liked having to take you the rest of the way when your legs failed you while riding him. 

but this was different. 

you had told sungchan so many times breathlessly that you liked when he grabbed you, you liked seeing how you seemed to fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, even if your flesh spilled out between his fingers. sungchan has seen your eyes screw shut from pleasure at from touches that were light as a feather. so sungchan had no idea why you were denying yourself the pleasure of being touched by him. he was forced to watch you sit across from him as you lifted up the bottom of your dress. you subjected him to watching you slip a small finger into your cunt, forcing him to see and hear you whine from frustration when it wasn’t enough.

“i told you that you don’t deserve it.” you added another finger, and sungchan watched you try and bend your fingers the same way he did when he was inside of you. “you don’t even act like my boyfriend.” you pouted.

sungchan kept his hands tucked underneath his thighs, nails digging into his skin. he shook his head like an idiot when he saw your mind try to comprehend you weren’t getting what you wanted.

“i’m your boyfriend baby, i promise.” sungchan squeezed your balled up underwear in his hand as you unskillfully fingered yourself. “touch your clit too.” sungchan said, nearly drooling.

you snapped out of your haze when sungchan tried to give you orders, narrowing your eyes at him. his eyes were immediately apologetic when he saw that you stopped fingering yourself completely, sliding out of your cunt with a shudder.

“i know how to masturbate, you fucking idiot.” you seethe.

sungchan nods quickly, biting his lip at your insult. the way your words cut through him with the airy tilt from stimulation has sungchan aching in his pants. he presses against the fabric of his underwear, he has to shift and move his jeans down his leg to allow for more space.

“i’m sorry baby. i just want to help.” he apologizes.

you go back to your show, smiling at your pliant boyfriend. the one who was so adamant about standing up for his wrong opinion was malleable before you, doing anything you wanted with just a simple look. all you had to do was press your finger to your clit and look to the button on sungchan’s jeans before he was hastily pushing them down of his legs. when you opens your legs a little wider he nearly tripped over himself to put hands on your body.

sungchan saw every part of you call to him—your chest that moved in tandem with your body, the dip of your hips that always allowed sungchan to have a perfect grip of you. even your eyes called to him, blown out with want and your cheeks begged to be touched. sungchan covered the expanse of your body in seconds, gasping and clutching at anything as you continued touching yourself. sungchan pressed wet kisses to your neck, trailing all the way up until he got to your ear. you loved when he did that, shivering with each kiss pressed to your skin.

“you’re mine right?” you whimpered.

sungchan pulled away to look you in your eyes. his hand tilted your chin and kept it in place when you tried to turn away. he saw your eyes almost gloss over when his hold on your face tightened.

“yes.” he said.

sungchan’s voice was no longer desperate, no longer apologetic or looking for approval as his other hand started trailing towards your cunt. you had taking your hand away from your core completely, one hand already holding the back of the driver seat for stability.

“you’re mine.” sungchan said.

he saw your head dumbly move up and down and your long eyelashes bat as you blinked away tears. your soft pretty hand from never working a day in your life went over sungchan’s large hand, slowly guiding him to your center. your plush lips almost mouthed please as sungchan just let his hand rest there, unmoving.

sungchan smiled in your face, reveling in the defeated look. all the anger was just a show, you were now desperate and nearly begging for what you wanted. this was nothing like the girl who had people submit to her like it was nothing.

“you really don’t know what to do when you don’t get what you want, huh?” sungchan cooed at you, tapping on your cheek as his other hand on your center didn’t move.

you nod your head before shaking it, hesitating before you see sungchan’s smile get bigger. he cups his hand around your head, and you pitch your hips forward slightly to get closer.

“you just get mad and hope for the best, don’t you?” sungchan asks.

you nod again, and you continue nodding until sungchan slips his iddle finger and ring finger into your heat. your eyes close and your hand goes to sungchan’s hand that still holds your face. he doesn’t stop pumping into your heat, looking down at your furrowed eyebrows and your wobbling legs. he slides in so easily, and he can see how pitiful you are so clearly from up here. sungchan taps your lip with his finger. you part your lips so sungchan can lick them, and you open wider so he can slip his tongue into your mouth. you whine instantly, bringing both hands to grip sungchan’s shoulders. you tilt your head to give him a better angle, even if it sacrifices your own comfort.

he picks up the pace of your fingers, just to feel how you fall behind his kisses. sungchan pulls away, purposely letting spit dribble from the corner of your lips.

“you’re so spoiled.” sungchan says amazed.

“it’s your fault. you always give me everything i want.” you say nearly breathless.

you have a small smile as you struggle to open your eyes. when you finally do, sungchan picks up the speed to wipe the knowing look off your face. you’re a mess all over again, mouth opening while pitiful high-pitched whimpers fall from your lips.

before you can tell sungchan you’re close he speaks first.

“i don’t think you deserve to cum.” he says mockingly.

instantly your eyes open, tears threatening to spill at the denial of something so sweet. sungchan only watches you in amusement, still trying to decide your fate.

“you want me to give it to you?” sungchan asks.

you nod, hands reaching down to pull at the elastic of his underwear. sungchan smiles, pulling away from you to free his dick from his pants. you pull your legs from the center console, tucking them underneath you while you wait for sungchan to give you what you want. with your underwear still balled in his hands he beckons to you, spreading out his naked body like he’s your new seat. 

you close the small space quickly, pushing your face into sunghcna’s. it’s rushed, you miss a beat when he smiles against your lips at your desperation. he guides your hips to straddle his hips, and you put your hand against the fogging window as the other rests in the crook of his neck.

when you pull apart sungchan bunches your dress at your hips, exposing your lower half to him. he looks down before letting a glob of spit land on his heavy dick. it’s against his stomach, occasionally twitching upwards when you dig your nails into his skin. his hand goes to his dick, mixing the spit and precum down his shaft as lubrication. his other hand guides your hips forward until you hover above him. you pull in a gasp in anticipation.

“ready?” sungchan asks, smile on his lips.

before you can say yes, sungchan slides you down on his dick. he stretched you out, this new angle in the cramped space causes your body to seize before relaxing. sungchan hisses as he finishes sliding in. your head goes to the crook of his neck, whimpering at his pulsing dick buried deep in you. sungchan’s face is void of pity as he drags your body up to make you take him all again. you do nothing but whine and moan pitifully into sungchan’s neck, sucking on his skin to satisfy your oral fixation. sungchan takes your hand that presses against the window to pull it behind your back. lack of stability causing you to lean more into him, and takes away any attempt you could make at pulling yourself up from sungchan.

“you like it?” sungchan pulls your body up before bringing you down harder. “when i tell you that you belong to me?” sungchan whispers into your ear.

his voice is strained, holding back grunts from the way your walls squeeze around him and pull him in.

“i do.” you whine.

sungchan lets go of your hand but you keep it there, placing it on his thigh to try and hold your body up. sungchan thrusts up into you quickly at your suspended state, completely changing the pace he had set. you dig your nails into his flexed thigh as a result. he watches your chest bounce in the confines of your dress. part of him wants to rip it off of you, but a bigger part of him wants to keep you completely covered in case someone catches you two out here. sungchan refused to have too much of you exposed in public, seeing your body in all its naked glory was reserved for him and him alone.

“this pussy belongs to me.” sungchan presses his finger to your clit, and your body curls into him even further. you’re a whining mess, letting yes repeatedly fall from your lips when sungchan rubbing revolutions on your bundle of nerves. “you don't even treat her right.” he scoffs.

“please give it me sungchan.” youpull away from the crook of his neck to reveal your tear tracks, wet and shimmering down the sides of your face. 

sungchan tried his best to remain mean. but seeing your glossy self-bitten lips and your wet face softened sungchan. he still snapped his hips up into you that caused your chest to jump and his car to shake, but he cooed at your pitiful face and kissed your salty tears before swiping them away with his thumb. he kissed your forehead and wrapped an arm around your back underneath your arm to bring your chest close to his.

“anything for you, baby.” he moaned quietly.

sungchan’s voice was gentle with you, but the change in the way he fucked you was not. suddenly the arm wrapped around your back pulled you up and he snaked his arm underneath your leg to hike it up. he lifted your body with small grunts to bring you down harshly, making you cry out loud. crescent moons were digging into sungchan’s skin and you could feel your nails bending from the pressure. the sound of your hips coming down on sungchan’s filled the car, mixed with moans he finally let slip from his lips. you were both getting high off of getting fucked, your walls clamped around his dick in a vice grip that had sungchan cursing your name. how could he not give you everything you wanted while you felt like this inside. you both looked down where you two met, watching sungchan disappear inside of you to hit deep in your stomach. he looked up at you, blowing a piece of hair from his line of sight.

“look at me.” sungchan grunted in between thrusts. 

you listened immediately, eyes glazing over as you got close to your peak again.

“you’re gonna cum just for me?” sungchan asked.

you nodded, words fractured anytime you tried to speak.

“so close.” you stuttered.

“i can tell.” sungchan said knowingly.

“cum—” you stopped mid sentence to lean into sungchan’s chest. you looked up at him from your place on his chest and he looked down at you, eyes full of love as he watched you become more and more undown. your walls held him a little tighter when he tried lifting you. “cum inside. all yours.” you babbled.

that was all sungchan needed to hear. he pulled you down one last time, gridning his hips against yours to stimulate your clit. sungchan’s eyes looked everywhere, and felt your drool on his chest as you slapped his thigh. it was always a telltale sign for you, trying to relieve your tension. sungchan grabbed your hand to limit the movement and continued moving his hips.

you let out one final cry before arching your back against sungchan’s chest, and he held you in place. you squeezed around him over and over, milking his dick until he had no more left to give you. your wet walls still pulsed, so much that sungchan could feel his cum seeping out past his dick. you went completely limp against him, your loud cries turning into soft whimpers as your body started shaking. if sungchan touched you, you whined, and when he didn’t touch you you pressed your chest closer to his. it was a game sungchan didn’t want to win.

“i really always do give you what you want.” sungchan said.

it was a quiet revelation, one you had a long time ago back when you two were kids fighting over pointless things.

“yeah. you do.”

[prettyboysun]

⟢ to swallow a star | c.bg

pairing: wizard!beomgyu x apprentice!f!reader. genres: fluff, romcom, fantasy. wc: 1,7k. warnings: this is so silly and unedited 💀. an: i was trying to make a point with the last paragraph but my brain isn’t working, but i am a howl girlie so just pretend u get it 🤣 found the last photo on pinterest with no credits, so credit to the original artist 🫶🏻

it is late afternoon down by lilac lane. the spring sunlight douses the cottage in gold, lighting up the grassy hills and fields, glittering off a nearby rushing creek. it allows warmth to seep in through the windows.

normally, on a cozy sunday such as this, you would be curled up on the soft upholstery armchair in the sitting room, with tabby purring in your lap and a volume of the Wizard Howl’s Why One should Not Swallow Stars series between your fingers. But today you were not, and it vexes you greatly to think of it. rather, you are standing on the tips of your toes, leaning over the sink, to squint through the kitchen window.

a great deal of time had passed since you saw the Wizard Beomgyu, under whom you were serving an apprenticeship. he had disappeared into the fields behind the cottage earlier that very afternoon, promising to teach you a new charm once he had returned. and this promise had pleased you.

for the first few weeks in his care, you and beomgyu had gotten along remarkably well. he would teach you spells and enchantments, you would prepare meals and you would share chores and tending to the cottage equally. in your free time you would tag along on his jobs in town, or you would read and he would paint.

but in the next few weeks that took you up to the current third month at the cottage, his behavior had changed drastically. the good-natured, occasional prankster of a man had reverted to a sulking, misbehaving teenager who had not taught you a thing in days.

so the thought of his unhappiness being cured and him now having the time to teach you, enlivened the witch in the exasperated nurse you had become. but that excitement had long since met its end. and as the clock struck five o’clock, your blood boiled.

a flash of green sweeps through the open window and you drop onto your heels. tabby lifts her head from where she had sat napping between the potted plants near you on the sink, one eye opening slowly to follow the squawking bird.

“toto,” you say, relieved to see the wizard’s familiar. you follow him into the sitting room, where he glides around once more before taking his perch. “where have you been? where is your master?”

he squawks. “miss (y/n), master requests your presence at poppy hill.”

“poppy hill?” you say in surprise, “i thought he was in the fields. is something the matter?” then your eyes shine, “is it time for my lesson at last?”

toto lets out a nervous squawk. “you should take your leave before last light, miss.”

“will you guide me to him, toto?” you ask politely. the parrot nods his head before hopping from his perch and sailing through the kitchen window once more.

you tighten your boots quickly, pausing only to check on tabby. “are you coming, girl?”

her countenance was such that, if she were a person, you’d imagine she would sigh unenthusiastically. but she nevertheless hopped off and ran after you at your heels.

you follow toto deep into the fields and up onto poppy hill where the Witch Karina grew and nurtured her genus of wild flowers. it pales you to imagine he had spent the entirety of his afternoon here, but you perk up when toto leads you down the windward side of the hill.

you come to a stop as you find the Wizard Beomgyu seated amongst red common poppies, the last light catching his features and making them glow. the gentle breeze brushes through his long, golden brown hair as he soaks it up. when the light disappears behind the mountains at last, toto settles atop his head and his eyes flutter open. he greets toto with a smile, then turns to you and his eyes light up. you gulp.

“(y/n)!” he says, climbing to his feet. as his hands clear the grass and dirt from his trousers, he starts toward you and continues, “i’m glad you could make it. i was just talking to karina and—”

you fix your hands on your hips and a severe expression on your face. he stops, fear in his eyes. you march toward him and he shrieks. “where have you been! you promised you would teach me today, beomgyu! what is the meaning of this!” you say, poking a finger into his chest.

“i was—”

“i have been patient! so patient with you these weeks and you go and leave me at noon until evening! what have you to say for yourself, sir!”

his frown morphs into a smile and you are simply flabbergasted. but before you can berate him further, he takes your hand into his gently. he presses his lips to your knuckles and then rubs his thumb over them gently.

“i have left you? why, i could never do such a thing my dear,” he says and your face burns red.

“wha– wai– i beg your pardon!” you exclaim. but he maintains his hold on your hand and leads you further down the hill until you reach the middle of the slope. “do you think you can treat me like those swooning ladies in town!”

the sky is now dark and the stars are twinkling above, the moonlight shimmering silver against the blades of grass beneath your feet. you try and use the fragrance of the flowers and the earth to distract you from how warm and soft his hand feels, but then he takes your other hand and pulls you toward him.

“there is going to be a meteor shower tonight.” he says excitedly, as if it explains anything. but you are much too distracted by his closeness and his touch and his prettiness to argue. “i have planned it all with Karina. she will—“

you finally manage to yank your hands from his. “i do not care to be in your presence now, sir. you refuse to explain your behavior! i am your apprentice, you are supposed to teach me. if our arrangement— if my company is not to your liking anymore simply say so and I will take my leave.”

you start your walk back up the hill, which, being now by your full senses, proved to be a lot more taxing than the journey down it. it only aggravates you more. but you gather your dress in your hands and push on. he rushes after you.

“i will swallow a star!”

you stop in your tracks. you turn to him. “what?”

“i will swallow a star,” he repeats, folding his arms across his chest with a resolved expression on his face. “so that i may compete with that pretty boy you like so much.”

you blink. “compete? with that pretty boy? who– The Wizard Howl? Pendragon?”

he does not answer, but turns his face up to the night sky with a pout. your jaw drops in absolute bafflement. then you burst out laughing. his cheeks turn pink.

“oh, beomgyu,” you sigh, taking his face into your hands and turning it to you. “howl’s books are about why we should not contract deals with demons for power; his own autobiography. and you are a powerful wizard of your own accord, why should you need to be like him?”

toto squawks. “that is what i told him, Miss.”

“you shut up,” he snaps, swatting his familiar away. when your hands drop from his face, he returns them to their place and he leans into your touch, still pouting. “but you like him so much. you’re always reading those things and talking to tabby and mrs rochester from the bakery about him.”

you grin, a blush glowing in your cheeks. “beomgyu, the wizard howl is a happily married man with a sweet two-year old son. the story of his life is remarkable to me, so I read about him.”

he stills. “really?”

you drop your head and giggle. when you look up again, he is watching you with a look in his eyes that makes your chest flutter.

“and what about you?” you say, fixing your hands on your hips again. “what were you doing all day with Miss Karina?”

he perks up. “oh! i spent the afternoon trying to convince her to let us borrow her field for the evening. she agreed on the condition that i promenade with her in town tomorrow.”

you glare at him and smack his shoulder. “And you said yes? i cannot believe you! courting couples promenade together! i—“

he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest. “i am a cunning wizard, darling. i may have pulled one on her,” he shrugs, “besides. how could i dream of courting anyone else when you are right here.”

then his eyes flit to your lips, asking, and when you nod, he takes them between his own in a sweet kiss.

when you break apart your breath is shaky and you think that if he should remove his arm from your waist you would fall straight to the ground. he smirks, as if he reads your mind.

“sh- she’s going to curse you once she figures it out. d-do you not know of howl and the witch of the waste?”

at that moment the meteor shower begins, like glittering diamonds shooting across the heavens. you stare up in awe. tabby meows and rubs her head against your legs, while toto perches on beomgyu’s shoulder.

he gently takes your chin between his fingers and draws your attention back to him.

“do you know of the wizard beomgyu and the apprentice who stole his heart?” he says softly, bringing your face closer and closer and closer. “they say she was was vivacious,” he kisses one corner of your mouth, “unyielding,” then the other, “a powerful witch in the making who was not wise of what she was doing before it was far too late.”

your breathing is heavy and your eyes hooded, “w-what happened to them? the wizard and the apprentice?”

his lips curl into a soft smile. “the apprentice and her wizard’s fates became inseparable, and they were destined to love one another in this and every lifetime.”

he pulls you in once more, this kiss much different from the first. he holds you impossibly close, a hand buried in your hair and the other lifting you up to his lips. it is enrapturing and toe-curling and your insides melt.

you decided then and there that the Wizard Howl Jenkins Pendragon was a charlatan. for if this is what it felt like to swallow a star, to give your heart to another and share a life, you would choose it with beomgyu, every single day.

scintillasofbeomgyu © all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost in any way.

[prettyboysun]

i ❤️ baby-girls and jaehyun, please do more girl dad!jae, angel ☹️☹️🫶

girl dad! jaehyun

warnings: a bit suggestive, cursing, jaehyun being idealized. and a cliffhanger!!!!

a's/n: requests always open!! hope u like this anon!!

[prettyboysun]

성찬 : An angel slept on my shoulder, & now it feels like sunrise.

❝ wherein Sungchan wakes you up differently than you are used to.

pairing: f!reader × jung sungchan ⁝ tags: um, he is a meanieee, as in the most adorable, most dreamy. inspo; photographer era sungchan, this pic! (hopefully, there will be more of them) ep14 of rize&realize in terms of his styling. wc. 3k

this a sslight reupload from two weeks ago given it got eaten in the tags, sry.

Poets write more about perfect love than toothpaste and alarm clocks, though there are intriguing ways in which our morning routines shape our lives.

Already, months of mornings spent waking up to find Sungchan lying next to you──someone u would gladly wake up beside for eternity. 

A comfort, a constant, a habit. Someone whose smile lifts, heals, and puts all you want to hear into words; someone gentle and kind who winces when you try to brush an eyelash away from his cheek. Just a really sweet person who smiles w his eyes & something about it flutters ur heart... But that’s only the beginning.

On certain days, you wake up on different sides of the bed; on other mornings you find yourself waking up next to his warm skin; and on certain days, his schedule demands that you wake up alone.

On this particular day though you awaken to an odd camera shutter sound. The sound isn’t new to you──you have heard it before, but not this close, this intimate, or this early in the morning.

It takes a few more hearings of the shutter and click sound before you manage to slowly open your eyes & realize that this isn’t a lucid dream. 

He is just lying there beside you, curled in an odd way, holding what you think is a black object, though you cannot quite make out what it is yet due to blurry vision.

You try to reach out to him & get him to take his seemingly favourite new toy off of your face, but all u can manage is a husky, “What are you dooing?” and shut your eyes instantly.

Sungchan pulls back, securing his camera teasingly away from you, and putting more distance between the two.

Gradually adjusting your eyes to the light that has evidently been let through the curtains on purpose, you make another whiny remark, “It’s tooo bright in heere.”

In the most foul, deep tone a person in the morning can have, he cheekily says, “Morning.”

Ouch…

White sheets separate you as you are trying to get a closer look at him by tapping the puffiness of the duvet to discover why he is acting so meanly this early in the day.

There it is—that click again.

The shutter sound reverberates more because of the silence in the room. It loops similarly to how wrinkled sheets do and similarly to how waves do, as he continues to force his finger onto the shutter button.

At this point, you know he is holding a camera; you are just curious about how he got it, since you have never seen it and he has never expressed interest in that kind of thing before.

“You make a perfect subject,” he admits.

Sure, it is too early for him to flirt, but is not something you are unfamiliar with either. He has this ability to ease and comfort even in the most tense situations. Which then also equals the number of times he has flirted with you, even in the most unusual circumstances. 

There is just something about Sungchan that thrives on the abnormality of situations. His level of extrovertism is as high as it gets on your hot-cold scale, making you feel everything from extremes, but you would not trade that for anything. And if that means you are flirting with him at the dentist or while feeding an animal in the zoo, so be it.

And he is being unconventionally alluring once again this morning. No matter how long you have been dating, he still has an insatiable desire when it comes to pushing your boundaries. Specifically, he is manipulating your emotions today from behind that too-small-for-his-hands rectangle thingy.

Burying your face in the pillow, you whine,  “Sungchannn,” since you are actually given something to be upset about in the first place. Why is he like this?

You know he has that ‘trouble’ smile on his face, even though you are not looking at it.

Click.

He takes a little longer to play as he inspects the new toy, looks down at a picture of you on the screen, peers at you through the viewfinder, and then peeks at you over the camera. 

“It feels strange that I can practically touch you through the screen.”

It is too early, you swear, and this time, he is disturbing your tranquillity, but when he goes above and beyond to get your full attention, can you really blame him?

Said into the pillow, you refuse to give up and look at him, so it comes out muffled. “You are unbelievable, you know that?”

“I consider that a compliment,” he taunts.

You instantly lift your head in reaction to the counterattack, intending to bother him even more “Well, yes, when” Despite the bright light coming from the windows, you force yourself to open your eyes. “when—”  

The sight ..… You are only now experiencing it after your drowsy vision has subsided and things are beginning to become more clear.

The ball formed at the end of your throat is hard to swallow. “when—When… you,”  you continue to glitch ── thinking, speaking, looking at him, and moving on are all challenging. 

“Well… yes,” Sungchan continues his ribbing of you. “When…” 

However, you are preoccupied with something else so much that you miss—you...

The fucking sight!

He is bathed in the most dazzling morning light. Someone who, naturally, has reached the pinnacle of confidence is someone who woke up significantly earlier than you and spent time with himself. Having had a great start to the day, worked out, showered, and taken care of himself, he has made the decision to make yours even better.

Propped up on his elbow, the devastation continues the more detail your eyes begin to take in.

The sunlight is skating on his hair. Pulling the camera away from his face, the drowsy light drips from his hair, still damp from the shower.

Golden, golden, golden — ‘the warm sun’ is burning your lips, cheeks, shoulders, and skin. 

Here he is, seemingly creating ‘art’ when in fact he is it. 

Considering that you have not yet experienced a view like this in the morning, the Leica in his hands enhances the rest of what you begin to perceive as his artistic movement. 

Sungchan repeatedly tugs the camera strap in and out of his fingers as he plays with it. Even though your brain has just started working, you can understand the gesture’s flex and meaning.

Additionally, aside from the wet hair, the softness of the white sheets contrasts sharply with the print of the camo pants. It is hard not to be confused by the brutality of his choice.

His faded Diesel hoodie is completely unzipped, displaying his flawlessly squared abs, where the sun also appears to like to hang out. And you think that if he had been naked in bed instead of ‘completely clothed’, it would have seemed more natural. However, here you are.

Although the artwork you are viewing lacks logic, that is precisely the complexity of art.

As you continue to examine him more, your words linger at the back of your throat.

He remains unaffected. The flexing of his hands and abs is in harmony. The low rise of his camos tases the downward curve of his hips, and internally, you lose it a little. His toned physique exudes such an artistic quality. It is something you want to touch, feel, & experience with your hands to appreciate the artistry. But you know that you must go through hell to get there. 

Apparently, you are his subject today, and you are aware of how dead-set Sunghcan can get when he has a goal. You are aware that you must tolerate his shaninagins this morning.

Alongside the obnoxious look, he has got going on──is the most mind-bending smile. It begs the question of how a smile can dig down that deep. All are capable of smiling, and all do smile, and you witness a hundred smiles every day, but none quite like his.

His smile has a subtle twist that gives it the ability to appear both devilishly seductive and angelically sweet. That is very exciting in both senses. It makes you shaky. A smile so intense and alluring that it simultaneously makes you feel afraid and terrified because it conveys how much you are falling for him. And even though you have been falling for a while, it always feels brand-new.

What is it that makes his smile so sincere? Why is it speaking back to you as well? And, why does it tell you what you want to hear?

Your mind is full of feelings. Your heart is full of feelings. There is no logic to you, as he starts to draw nearer, and your heart rate picks up too. You get so vulnerable every time you realize how much power this gentle giant has over you just by being so close.

He poses a question in an effort to highlight the fact that you are staring at him, “Would you like to see them?”

“Se—” you falter, raving deeply with your emotions. Not to say that he has caused you brain damage, but he most certainly has. “See-see what?”

“The pictures, angel.”

“Oh, yes,” you say, waving your head, “the-the pictures.”

An angel? You cannot remember a time when he called you an angel. This is the first instance. Your morning face freezes blankly, and all your efforts to stop the confusion from showing are useless. He finds appeal in it, so he grins.

And now, at a closer range, you can detect the scent of raspberry shampoo in his hair. His lips even; velvety and waxy, glazed in the same balm… The scent is vividly juicy, sweet, and slightly acidic, and it clings to your nostrils, gaining access to your thoughts and making you feel ecstatic.

The tension in your throat finally eases as you swallow it all. Still, it is not like you had a choice. You were forced to do it out of fear.

Fear of him. The fear of being approached by him in an awake state as opposed to a dream. This. The reality. The truth of his hoodie falling off his shoulder and his bare abs being dragged across the sheets...

You let out a sigh. No one could have prepared you for this morning. 

Sungchan eventually tries to show you the photos he took of you on the LCD screen, but you are dying from the close proximity and the raspberry stench. As your itching, agitation, & restlessness increase, you try to cover more of yourself by pulling the sheets.

He picks up on all your signs—your desperation is adorable to him. He still appears naive enough to exploit you, though. “What?” 

“N-nothing,” you respond, a little dizzy. “It’s just that this morning is giving me a really strong kickstart.”

He seems interested in what you just said, as his stare narrows. “Really?” His fluffy smile and curious eyes watch your lips for a reply.

How annoying…

After giving him a side eye, having grown tired of his lure, you turn back to the camera. “Show me.”

The pictures start to speed up one after another, & you aren’t sure how to react because you were the one being photographed without permission, but they are strangely gorgeous. Raw in the sense that perfection is surrounded by flaws.

You can see how he has fed his curiosity by taking a more romantic & delicate approach to your ignorance (you sleeping). There is no denying that the thematic progression perfectly conveys the raw emotions of someone being in love. The subject matter: tender sensuality, body art, and safe spaces.  

Each and every one of photos discloses an intensely private detail about you that only he sees. Deeply asleep & oblivious to everything, including him and his camera, you are rendered completely helpless in those pictures.

Sunghcan looks at you and waits for your response while grinning to himself and twirling his finger around the edge of his lips.

At last, you say, “Um…”

He retracts, “Ummm? Just an umm?”

You make an effort to maintain your modesty and ignore what you consider weak pictures, considering how frail you look in them. “They are fine, I guess.”

“Fine!?” His brows furrow, and he gives a sad little pout. “Baby, no one else gets to see you like this but me.”

“A little possessive, aren’t we?” you flirt back, and naturally, the unintentional provocation is immediate. It works quickly, causing him to leap over you and threaten you with his new gadget.

With his knees bent, he straddles your body, & looks down on you. “Then let us improve them.”

You are still warm and sensitive from your sleep; the last thing you need to do is look at him standing on top of you as if you are viewing some grand statue from below...

And not to mention his low-rise camos and his unzipped hoodie with one sleeve hanging down his arm, exposing his bare shoulder. Incredibly ‘babygirlfied,’ if that makes any sense.

All of it is too much and something you do not need to focus on right now, but you can not really complain, can you? He is as dual-edged as the idea of his contradictory smile. Someone so irresistible.

Still,  

“Sunggchaan,” you object, your hands covering your sleepy face, knowing that your protests never work against his determination anyway. 

Waving the camera, he begins to goof around and document everything in the process. He is gazing at you and frantically pressing the shutter button, and the montage of pictures keeps going. Pretty soon, it is more about the moment than what he is photographing.

The room grows excessively bright as the walls begin to come to life one by one. It explodes with giggles and tickles and pillows thrown around as the peachy tint fills it.

The push-pull, trying-to-resist cat-and-mouse game is an engaging exercise to ensure you are fully motivated & prepared for the day. And it is nonstop movement, much like a workout.

Inside the sheets, then outside of them. Click.

Folded limbs & naive scratches. Click.

Teeth pulling at the strap of your tank top.

Teeth digging into the camera strap... [An artistic moment of reflection.] Click.

Your hand in reach for his camera. Click.

A Backhug. Speaking lip touching earlobe. Secrets spilling. A Promise.

And again, your palm (Click) on his lens.

A groan.

The Leica being thrown onto the bed.

Your wrists being pinned.

Stuck.

Tasting without touch.

Warm lips pressing a kiss against your cheek.

⠀

Finally, he pulls away from you, a photographer who takes his work seriously. He assumes the first position, straddling your body & stopping movement by glaring down at you.

It is just hitting that the constant motions and how you two emoted through the last couple of minutes lead into a new series of super artsy & super candid couple aesthetic—the ultimate romantic declaration.

Despite the camera being in his face, he looks at you over it. There is something so romantic about the prolonged primal eye contact you two share. Following everything is too intimate, beautiful, harsh, and full of passion.

Click.

It is impossible not to tease Sungchan, even though he is made you feel a little tired and increased your dopamine levels. “That is not how you shoot a photograph.”

“Oh, yeah?” He bends down, tongue pocking at his cheek and thumb resting on the delicate column of your throat. “Care to teach me?” 

Pressing slightly, slightly...

the gentle thumb pressure to reduce your airflow is purely psychological.

Love tickles the shallow parts of your spine as his body heat seeps through the sheet that you badly force on yourself to cover your body. You too are fevered, & you have been since opening your eyes.

He observes every inch of your face, for you are his dream girl.

His lashes battle as his damp hair slides into his deer eyes. His breath and the raspberry scent are waiting on your lips. To say that he just imagines a kiss that would stop time and give you another hour of his undivided attention would be an understatement. 

Butterflies start to swarm your whole body, you really want nothing more than to bite into that ivory shoulder!!

His soft pink tongue dances along his teeth as it tries to get your attention.

And while with sweet thoughts, a loving heart, and kind deeds, Sungchan radiates happiness like a sweet puppy, he also doesn’t mind being naughty...

You shy away, smiling—embarrassed by your own ideas. Mean, mean, mean. He is so mean!

This doe giant, the type to hold your face in his hands and say, “Come closer.”

You feeeel insane...

The camera sits on the nightstand, battered but full of memories. Somewhat of an unusual late morning—the city appears blood orange in the distance.

Your skin is being caressed by the gentle amber light of the morning as your legs entwine with his. The material of his pants is rough against your exposed skin, but there is something about the uncomfortability that makes you feel even more sensitive.

Ultimately, the final product is...

Well,

it is all about the mess of unmade bedsheets, uncareful kisses and blurry photos. The birds chirping their morning melody, and your face buried in his neck as you take in a deep breath.

They say a picture encapsulates a moment, but you come to realize that there is no better view than this one,

waking up to Sungchan’s dreamy face in this heaven-like bedroom every day──a safe space where you let him speak and have his way with you. That pictures can document a tiny fraction of those feelings & emotions it feels like bonus.

© 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.

[prettyboysun]

read this and the prequel from 3-5 am and cried at least 6 times. i love it so so much FXCKKKKK

the city that never sleeps | c.bg

PAIRING | beomgyu x fem!reader

CAST | choi beomgyu, choi yeonjun, yoo jimin (karina), mentions of choi soobin, yang jeongin (i.n), shin ryujin, lee heeseung, kim minjeong (winter)

WC | 28.2k

GENRE | angst, smut, childhood friends to lovers, friends to lovers, neighbor!au, boy next door!au, right person wrong time (sort of)

WARNINGS | explicit language, explicit smut & sexual content, infidelity, toxic relationship, verbal abuse, mc has a present mom and dad, vaping & smoking cigarettes, marijuana mentions

SYNOPSIS | SEQUEL TO IDLE TOWN! // it’s been ten years since you last saw choi beomgyu in the flesh, but a high school reunion prompts you and your fiancé, yeonjun, to return to your hometown one last time. unfortunately, it seems like old habits die hard, and the harder you try to stay away from beomgyu, the closer he seems to get.

A/N | i was not planning on a sequel but sometimes the heart wants what it wants and i just had to write this. idle town readers, welcome back, and if you haven’t read the prequel then it’s linked in both the synopsis above and next to my masterlist below. it’s not required to read part one, but it’s helpful and provides context.

request to be added to current and future taglists HERE!

listen to the playlist here!

MASTERLIST | IDLE TOWN (PT. 1)

TEN YEARS LATER.

The day that you receive the envelope in the mail was the day that everything started going downhill. Now that you think about it, when was your peak? Was it as soon as you stepped foot in the city you’d always dreamed of living in? Was it when you met Yeonjun? Was it when you started working at that publishing company with amazing pay and benefits? 

All in all, you’re not really sure. But if you had to pick a simple “best moment,” it would probably be your college graduation. 

It was the perfect summer day. You’d aced your last semester of classes and had numerous colorful cords around your neck, showing off your accomplishments from the past four years. You sat between two people that you were semi-close with now, what with being almost forced to talk to them during rehearsals and all. They were alright, maybe you’d have even been friends with them in school if you met them earlier. Maybe being the key word. So instead, you sit between them, exchanging excited words in hushed whispers, making small talk, asking them what their plans are after the ceremony is over with. One of them invited the two of you to an end-of-school party that one of the frats is throwing; you had no clue about it. But as they explain the theme, saying that it’d be fun to end your last year with a typical college party—something that you’d probably never get the chance to do again—you start thinking, why not? What do you have to lose? 

The ceremony itself is great. Nothing goes wrong, even though in these sorts of situations you always expect something to go awry. It doesn’t start raining, no one trips or messes up their words, the speeches aren’t too dull (as far as graduation speeches go), and the cheers for you as you walk across the stage are almost deafening. You can’t help the wide, almost cocky grin that spreads across your face as you turn to the crowd and wave once towards the area you know your loved ones are sitting in, spotting Yeonjun’s pink hair right away. He sticks out like a sore thumb, almost neon in the bright sunlight in comparison to the people around him. You hear his voice rise up above everyone else’s cheers, yelling your name amongst praise and sweet words. It makes you blush, how he’s not afraid to say such sappy shit in front of your parents, in front of your friends—in front of your entire graduating class, really. 

The rest of the ceremony goes by in a blur. You can’t stop smiling even if you’re a little clammy underneath your cords and robe and cap, and your grin grows even wider once you’re able to toss your cap in the air and then go find your loved ones. 

You see Yeonjun first, parting the crowd like the Red Sea. It’s kind of impossible to not see him. That’s something you’ve always equally liked and disliked about him—he attracted attention wherever he went. And not always from those who were sexually attracted to him, though that was, admittedly, a large portion of the attention that he got. No, he emitted this glow when he walked into a room. There was something about him that demanded your attention, even if you were unwilling to give it up. It was partially his looks—god, was he stunning—but also, the charm that basically oozed from his pores. You’d never known anyone that didn’t like Yeonjun. Even if they were apprehensive at first, no one could resist his genuinity, his kind nature that collided with his sharp visuals that sometimes made him come off as the cold or arrogant sort of attractive. But of course, no one ever thought of him as cold or arrogant as soon as he opened his mouth. 

You liked this about him because it was easy. Everyone loved him: your friends, your classmates, and most importantly, your family. “He’s such a catch,” your friend Yeji said jealously, eyeing him as he walked away after dropping off lunch for you. “I wish I had a partner that would bring me a homemade meal.” 

“And he drove half an hour to get here,” you bragged playfully, shaking your little dosirak full of food, still warm to the touch. 

When he met your parents, your mother waited until he left the room before nudging you and smiling. “That’s a keeper,” she said happily, “I couldn’t think of anyone better for you.” The only issue with this was the fact that you noticed her stumble over the second part of that sentence, and it made you think of someone that you hadn’t bothered to think about in years. 

But when Yeonjun was there, any semblance of thought towards that someone melted away almost immediately. 

You run into his arms, almost crushing the massive bouquet of flowers that he’s holding gently. He holds it above the both of you with one hand and catches you in a tight embrace in the other, laughing and trying to speak through his giggles to congratulate you. “You are the most wonderful person in the world,” he says astutely, caressing your face gently as you part. Before you can get too far, he brings you back in to kiss you softly, his hand dropping to the small of your back to bring your body closer to his. Once he lets you go, he hands you the colorful bouquet that you almost squished. It’s beautiful. The entire thing is so heavy, full of flowers that are almost as big as your head. It hides the bottom half of your face as you hold it in front of your body and he laughs, pinching your cheek and calling you cute before everyone else arrives to congratulate you. 

Is it selfish of you to think of that as your peak? Why do you consider it so? Your immediate answer to that is because of how you felt, how happy you were. You were so happy that you had no more room for any other emotion, save for perhaps excitement—but even that bled into happiness, blurring the lines between which was which. But maybe you think of that as your peak because of your achievements—no, that’s not it. You’ve achieved much more since then. Then the last conclusion, and the one that you dreaded to consider, must be correct. You consider it your peak because of everyone else’s reactions. They celebrated you that day, they all paid attention to you and how much shit that you’d done in those four years. And to be fair, it was a well deserved celebration—you worked your ass off in your undergrad years, so much so that sometimes Yeonjun would have to physically stop you from pushing yourself before you collapsed from exhaustion. 

Your other option for your peak in life isn’t a singular moment. But it’s happier than considering yourself to peak in college. You consider your life as a whole since you moved out of your parents’ house to be your peak. That time frame between getting on the airplane to New York City and receiving that letter in the mail, that was your peak. 

It has been ten years since you left your hometown far behind when you pull that letter out from between a catalog for lacy underwear and your electricity bill, and promptly spit your coffee all over your dinner table. 

The address is from your home state, your hometown. It’s the address of your high school, and sure as hell, that’s your full name written across the front of the envelope. The stamp in the corner is of the school mascot—well, the same animal as your school mascot, anyways. 

Hands shaking, you wipe your mouth quickly and then use a butter knife to cut a slit in the envelope. A single piece of dense paper slides smoothly into your palm, and you gnaw on your lip until you taste blood as you read through it, eyes following the dark print, chasing it as it registers in your brain. You swear you can feel your tongue dry and your heartbeat slow as the words “HIGH SCHOOL REUNION” echo in your head. You toss the invitation back on top of the opened envelope and busy yourself with wiping up your mess of spewed coffee. 

Of course, this is when Yeonjun comes back. 

You hadn’t expected him to be gone long; he’d just stopped by the local bagel place to get some fresh breakfast to pair with your coffee (though your cup is now half gone, spat across your dinner table). 

“What’s wrong?” he asks immediately. 

That’s another thing about Yeonjun—he can read you like an open book. It’s a little annoying at times, when you want to keep certain things private or hide surprises from him, but most of the time you appreciate his intuitiveness. 

You don’t say anything, but point towards the invitation that’s still on full display, laying on top of the envelope it came in. Yeonjun kicks off his shoes and sets the box of bagels on the kitchen counter before walking over to you. He kisses you on the temple and picks up the invitation, leaning against the table as he scans it. Sucking in a deep breath through his teeth, he taps the thick piece of cardstock against the solid wooden surface of the dinner table and looks at you, concern clear in his eyes. He takes in your ashen face, bloodless and unsure. 

“Well,” he says, “are you going to go?” 

You groan loudly and slump forward in your chair, your forehead colliding with the table with a resounding clunk. Yeonjun coos, babying you like he knows you want him to, and drapes his slim frame over your back. His weight is a welcome comfort, like your very own weighted blanket. 

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. Your voice is muffled, but he understands. 

“If it’s stressing you out this much already, then…” he trails off, but you already know that he’s going to suggest not going. For some reason, this pisses you off a little and you nudge him off of you and pick up your head, scowling at him. 

“What if I want to go?” you ask, frowning. 

“Then go, of course,” he says, walking back into the kitchen to retrieve the bagels. His voice echoes through the hallway, preceding his physical return to you. “I just assumed that you didn’t want to because—“ 

“Because of Beomgyu,” you finish for him. 

Yeonjun stops, freezing up at the sound of his name. You do too. It’s like you’ve been literally frozen—you feel so unbearably cold, and you can’t move an inch even though you’re the one that said it in the first place. 

“I was going to say because of your reaction to the invitation,” Yeonjun says carefully. He still does not finish his route back to you. Instead, he stands there, halfway between the kitchen and you, very still. In his slim fit dark pants and sweater, he almost blends into the background. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that settles between the two of you, making itself comfortable atop all the surfaces in your home. Outside, it begins to rain. The only sound is the scattered raindrops that are beginning to pit-a-pat against the roof of your apartment building and the tiny fire escape. 

After what seems like an eternity of stunned silence—you’re both still so shocked that you even uttered his name—you clear your throat to break the ice and say, “Well, I probably won’t go anyways. I hate that town.” 

“Right.” 

You both resume your day as usual, but the air is different. You’re both much more reserved and careful with what you say, something that’s rare for Yeonjun, who usually likes to speak his mind even if it comes off as a bit brash sometimes. 

The reunion is not discussed any further until the week of, when you slide two plane tickets across the dinner table to Yeonjun, the destination being your hometown. 

“Come or don’t,” you say, “but it’ll be uneventful either way.” 

“I know this means a lot to you even if you refuse to say it out loud,” Yeonjun says knowingly. “I’m not an idiot.” 

“You’re not an idiot, but you’re also unusually good at reading my mind,” you murmur. This prompts Yeonjun to crack a smile. 

“Well, since you already bought me a ticket…” 

“I can get a refund,” you retort, but he knows that it’s a lighthearted joke. 

“Not a chance.” He snatches up the tickets and walks over to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and holding the papers up to the light. “High school reunion, here we come.” 

—-

Maybe you should be more nervous. 

Or maybe it just hasn’t kicked in yet. 

Because the thing is, it’s not like you haven’t been back to your hometown at all since you left for college. You come home for certain holidays, for special days, for celebrations or times of mourning. 

So far, it feels like another one of those times. 

In your head, it’s just like you’re going home for Christmas, or for your mother’s birthday. Nothing has been really different just yet, so it has yet to hit you. 

It’s only once you’re back in your childhood bedroom, with Yeonjun standing next to you, that you begin to feel uneasy. The only time you’d stayed in your childhood bedroom (after you’d moved out, of course) was for a long weekend during Christmas a few years back. Every other time, Yeonjun had come with you, and the two of you stayed in a nearby hotel. This time, before you could book a room, your mother had called you and demanded that the two of you stay in your childhood home. 

“Cancel your hotel room,” your mother said cheerfully, once you’d picked up her call. 

“Why?” you asked, stifling a yawn and blinking your dry eyes simultaneously; she’d woken you up from a late afternoon nap. Golden sunshine was pouring into your bedroom like honey, splashing across the length of your shared king-sized bed. It was the first real sunshine to penetrate through the thicket of fog and storm clouds, the last lingering signs of spring before summer took over. The air was warm and heavy, scented heavily with the spices Yeonjun was using to cook dinner in the kitchen. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and of course this is why the smell of food was so strong. You sit up as your mother starts talking again, wrapping a soft throw blanket loosely around your shoulders. It’s only a few steps to the window, but your bare feet are quickly getting chilled from the hardwood floor as you peer out the window at the setting sun. 

“You and Yeonjun can just come stay at the house,” your mother prompts, but her tone is a little off. 

“You know I love our house, but it’s just too small for me and Jun to stay in my room,” you say, walking back over to sit down on the edge of the bed. “We sort of tried that one year at Chuseok, remember? We tapped out at around eleven after tossing and turning for like half an hour in that tiny bed.” 

“I know, but still,” she says, trailing off. 

You lean down to inspect a chip in your floor. “But still what, mom?” 

“We’re selling the house,” she finally says. You freeze, heart skipping a beat as you lick your dry lips. 

“You’re selling it?” you ask hoarsely. 

“We can’t take care of it any more,” she explains, and you can hear the pity in her voice, sweet like cough syrup. “We’re going to move to a little complex a few towns over at the end of the month.” 

“Oh, Woodbury?” you ask faintly, a flash of a memory of a Woodbury Apartments catalog sitting on your parents’ coffee table the last time you’d visited, around the winter holidays. 

“We just thought that you might like to stay here for the last few weeks. We’re mostly cleaned up and starting to pack…” 

Your head is swimming in the warmth of your bedroom, suddenly too hot for your taste. The blanket slides off of your shoulders as you mumble an excuse to your mother and hang up before she can even reply. You feel your phone buzzing in your hand and you know that your mother is texting you and asking if you’re alright, but you don’t answer her. You sit there until Yeonjun comes to get you for dinner, and once he sees your frail figure, shaking and clutching your phone to your chest, he scoops you into his arms and you listen to his heartbeat until the words come spilling from your lips. 

You grimace, thinking back upon the memory of that phone call, as you yank the zipper on the side of your suitcase, trying to get out the bag that holds your toiletries. You packed it on top of all your clothes for easy access, for this reason exactly. The memory of your mother breaking the news to you wasn’t a good one, and the worst part was how stupid you felt for being upset about it at all. You were nearly thirty years old and you were having a breakdown over your parents selling their house? 

“You grew up there, there’s a lot of memories. It makes perfect sense to feel the way you do right now,” Yeonjun had soothed, when you whimpered out your worries about sounding dumb. But you still felt shitty about feeling shitty. 

But like you’d said before: nothing really felt different until you actually got back and you were unpacking in your childhood bedroom. You’d specifically asked your parents to leave it untouched so that you could pack things up yourself, and they obliged. Every other room in the house had been scrubbed clean and left simplistic, easy to clear out in just a few hours when the time came to leave for the last time. 

Luckily, that wasn’t for a while yet. 

First, you had to get through this damn reunion. 

It took place the night after you landed, starting around eight thirty. You assumed that people would show up early, so you prepared yourself to arrive at crisp eight forty-five, just so that there was no chance of you being early nor late. You wanted to attract the least amount of attention possible from your old peers. 

“If you don’t even want to see anyone, why did you decide to go?” your father asked sharply over dinner that night. A mixture of your annoyance, the tension in the room, and probably some of his pain medication for his back, was all building up. You watch through slightly narrowed eyes as your mother slips another few pills to him, a new wrinkle line appearing on her forehead. She’d tended to your father day and night since he fell off a ladder a few months ago. His tone made your head ache, and you sighed harshly—perhaps a bit too harshly, you realize, as you watch him flinch—before replying. 

“I do want to see people,” you say, scowling into your dinner. Even though it’s delicious as always, prepared by your parents, you can’t seem to get much of it down before your stomach starts turning. You put down your utensil and rub your eyes, making your parents exchange an uneasy glance with an awkward Yeonjun. He didn’t really know what to do about the tension between you and your father, so he helplessly draped an arm over your hunched over frame and rubbed your shoulder comfortingly as he made a kind, somewhat pitiful expression towards your father. “It’s just that—I don’t want to see most of them, and I know that most of them haven’t ever left town. What if they ask me questions? What if they want to be friends? What if they expect something from me just because we were in the same class?” 

“Woah there,” Yeonjun said, speaking up before either of your parents could offer a singular reassuring word. “Doll, if they didn’t care ten years ago, they probably won’t care now. At most you’ll get a few curious questions but it won’t be from a harmful place.” 

“You weren’t there,” you glower at him, “you don’t get it.” 

“Did something happen?” he asks, eyes widening. “I didn’t know… You never said anything about… Are you alright?” He stutters, trying to find the right thing to say to soothe you.  

You kind of feel bad at this point, with both your parents and Yeonjun staring at you with the same concerned look written across their faces, the food in front of them untouched since the conversation started. You didn’t mean to be bitchy and bitter about it—after all, you were the one that chose to come back and go to the damned thing after all. But this was why you wanted to do it alone. As soon as it was over with, you imagined yourself returning to the playful, slightly more cheerful version of yourself that everyone knew and loved. You exhale loudly, then stand up. Your three loved ones mirror your actions, with Yeonjun straightening up to his full height beside you immediately, as if he could read your mind, and both your parents half-rising, mirroring out of pure empathy. 

“I’m sorry,” you state, “I’ve just been stressed about this.” You want to say something more, give them more information about what the hell has been going on inside your head since it really clicked as you were standing there in your childhood bedroom, but your tongue feels glued to the roof of your mouth. Your jaw clenches and unclenches as the three of them stare you down, expecting more, but when they realize that is all you have to say, you watch your parents’ wrinkled faces deflate into a more relaxed expression. One that says, “my child has issues, but they’ll work through it themselves and there’s nothing we can do about it so let’s just stop freaking the fuck out.”

“It’s okay, sweetie.” Your mom says this solemnly. 

When your eyes meet, you feel anger bubbling in your chest again. There is nothing but pity behind those old eyes. You know that your mom feels bad for you, her child that’s completely exiled from the hometown that they once lived in. The child that ran away to a big city and never came home again. The child that’s back home for the last time before they finally, really turn into an adult and let go of the last strings of childhood forever. 

It settles, though, as she reaches over to place her cool, dry hand over yours. You look down, a little ashamed now that you’re calmer and can think clearer. 

“I think I’m going to turn in early, so that I can… pack tomorrow before the reunion,” you explain, and your hand moves to pick up your dirty plate. Before you can lift it an inch off the table, your father swipes it from you and waves you and Yeonjun off. 

“We got this. You two go get settled.” 

You lock eyes with your father and you give him an appreciative nod. He smiles in return—yes, a sad one that is full of pity for you—and kisses you on the top of your head as he walks by you on his way to the kitchen. 

You press your lips into a thin line, a slightly awkward silence emerging between the remaining people at the table. Your mother jumps up before anyone has the chance to attempt to rekindle the conversation, and brings both hers and Yeonjun’s dirty dishes to the kitchen, following your father and disappearing behind the cream wall of your dining area. 

“I guess we’ll do what they say,” Yeonjun says, exhaling slowly and standing up. He pushes his chair in and tries to brush off imaginary dust from his place mat, and then looks to you for direction. Though he likes to take the lead, it seems that there is an exception when it comes to your childhood home. 

You take the creaky stairs by two and slip around on the slick wooden floor, warped and smoothed down from years of sock hockey and communal use. Your childhood bedroom door is there at the end of the hallway like it always has been, illuminated by the ceiling light that’s clearly just been replaced by the sheer brightness of it. The door, which has faded crayon lines and your name in wooden letters, blue tacked to the wooden frame, is slightly ajar, just how you had left it when you went down to dinner. 

The two of you sidle into the room, feeling a little claustrophobic. You spy an old purple bikini string overflowing out of one of your old dresser drawers, and your chest lurches a little as a memory of Beomgyu resurfaces. In the brief flash, Beomgyu is sitting in the middle of your bed, mud-caked high tops kicked off and laying on your shag rug. The browned laces are messy and askew, because of the haphazard way that Beomgyu had untied them messily and kicked them off carelessly. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and baggy, light colored jeans. His white socks have a hole on the left bottom and you can see pale flesh peeking through because of the way he’s laying, slumped onto his back with his feet sticking straight out in your direction. His hair is dark, long, and messy, with those white streaks that you loved so much. His brown eyes are twinkling in the dim yellow light, and just as he opens his mouth to say something to you you snap out of it. 

When the image of Beomgyu dissipates completely, you realize that you’ve been staring at Yeonjun this whole time. His stature almost mirrors Beomgyu’s in the memory. But instead, Yeonjun is perched politely on the corner of your mattress, and his pointy-toed, shiny black boots are neatly lined up next to your teenage collection of shoes in your closet. Your own ankle boots had been kicked off and left in the middle of your old rug, just like the illusion of Beomgyu’s Vans had been. Yeonjun’s hair—it’s a mushroom-y shade of brown now, rather than pink—glows warmly in the light alongside his sharp, sparkling eyes, a stark contrast to Beomgyu’s midnight locks and rounded boba pearl eyes. 

“Hey you,” Yeonjun teases, “where’d you go off to in Dreamland? I missed you for a few moments there.” 

You realize that you’ve been fidgeting with your fingers this whole time, picking at your cuticles and peeling the surrounding skin. It’s a bad habit that tends to resurface when you’re stressed, and your fingertips burn now. You regret it, but it’s too late. 

You chuckle. “Sorry, I got lost in my memories for a second.” You swallow hard, feeling choked up for some reason. 

Yeonjun picks up on your watery voice and your inflamed fingers, and he smiles that goofy smile that always makes you feel soothed before he kisses your hands and starts rummaging for his own luggage to find a first aid kit. You let him baby you for a bit, jabbering over your wounds and gently rubbing in a medicated ointment to soothe the throbbing. He selects the worst wounds to bandage up, reassuring you that the other ones would be fine as long as you didn’t touch them again, but it was too late already. Your skin wouldn’t heal before tomorrow, and after that you hardly had a damn about anyone and what they thought of you. You mentally insult yourself for a moment before feeling weary, pushing Yeonjun away after he finished fixing your last finger but rewarding him with a long kiss. 

He’s desperate for something more, for your attention to be solely on him. You again feel bad; your mind has been elsewhere for days now, and you know that Yeonjun can feel it. 

So you relent even though you’re exhausted, and you kiss him with what you hope is passion, dragging your nails down the curve of his back to make him groan and pull you closer to him until your front halves are smushed together. Chest to chest, your bare breasts beneath your thin t-shirt brushing against his hard pecs, his groin grinding against yours. You wrap your legs around his slim waist, pulling him ephemerally closer, closer, closer. You suddenly desire him so much that it burns. It hurts in your chest and your stomach and your head and the burn can only be soothed by his touch. Slowly he pulls away from your lips though he feels intoxicated by them; if he could, he’d kiss them forever. He starts at your head, pressing light kisses to your forehead, nose, and lips. He lingers on your lips again, the feather light drag of flesh against flesh driving you insane when you were craving depraved, rough handling. 

Maybe Yeonjun really did feel your desperation as you gasped aloud and clung to his frame. That faked passion in the beginning was so foolproof that you yourself feel victim to your own lying. 

Yet, nothing more really happens that night. You both take off your clothes, locked in each other’s embrace, and you feel his hot mouth attaching itself to your neck, your chest, your clavicle. His wet tongue laves over the bruises he’s suckled onto your flesh, narrowed eyes looking up to you for approval. You stroke his hair, and the texture is even different from Beomgyu’s—you remember when he would lay his head in your lap during your sleepovers, and every now and then he’d shift and lock eyes with you, grinning foolishly like he always did. You didn’t realize how much you missed him until now, until you found yourself in a place that reeked of familiarity, that reeked of him. If you closed your eyes and tried hard enough, you think you could smell the cologne that he wore all those years ago. It’s musky, yet sharp, and he wore so much of it sometimes that you couldn’t ever hug him without your eyes watering and your nose wrinkling. 

Yeonjun’s mouth parts from a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, a string of saliva from his lip connecting to your neck for just a moment longer before breaking. He places a soft, wet kiss on your lips, lingering there for just a little too long before he pulls away and smiles at you. 

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he says quietly. You fix your gaze on your fiancé, his face smooth and soft in the warm glow from your bedside lamp. That’s the only source of light in the room apart from the slivers of pale moonlight that are barely creeping in through a crack in your dusty butterfly patterned curtains. 

“I know.” You place a kiss on his forehead, which he receives gratefully, happy to have your attention. At least, some of it. More than he’d been receiving recently. 

“Do you want me to come with you tomorrow?” he asks, following you to the bathroom. 

You clutch at the plastic bag holding your toothbrush and toothpaste, along with other toiletries. “Do you want to come?” you ask, as he closes the bathroom door behind him as he walks in. You turn on the faucet, wetting your toothbrush and squeezing a blob of mint green toothpaste onto the bristles. Yeonjun reaches over to turn off the water. 

“Do you want me to come?” he asks. “It’s your high school reunion, and if you’re more comfortable going alone then I understand. But if you want me to come—especially because he might be there—I would love to.” 

You accidentally jab yourself in the gums with the hard plastic of your toothbrush at the mention of Beomgyu. Even though he didn’t say the name aloud, you knew that was who he was referring to. You groan, spitting out the mixture of blood and foamy toothpaste into the sink as you turn the water back on and watch the mixture go down the drain. “I know I’ve made it seem like a really big deal,” you said, choosing your words carefully, as to not offend your somewhat hot headed fiancé, “but it’s really not. I think I was just overwhelmed because of all the memories here, and the fact that my parents are selling the house. But really Jun, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ll be there for an hour, max.” 

“Then you’ll be back and we can finish packing,” he says promptly. 

A warm feeling washes over your body at the way Yeonjun always used words like “we” and “us” constantly. It always made you feel like part of a team, like a relationship should be. Such a simple gesture made you feel so safe and loved. 

“Yes,” you said, pinching his cheek playfully, “then we can finish packing, and my parents can sell the house and we can go home.” 

Yeonjun grabs your hand and plants a kiss on the back of it, making you blush as you pull it away. “I can’t even brush my teeth in peace,” you tease. 

“What can I say? If you’re gone for more than five minutes, I start to miss you too much.” Yeonjun winks before leaving you to finish washing up in peace, and you sigh softly as he closes the door. You look in the mirror, and you look tired even though you’ve yet to start packing at all. Really, it won’t be a big job. What’s more exhausting to think about is the reunion. 

You can almost picture a devil and an angel on your shoulders as you stare at your reflection in the mirror as you pat in your skincare. 

Listen to everyone else, the devil-you scolds. She scowls up at you. Why are you even going to the reunion? You could just skip it tomorrow and help your parents pack up the rest of the house. Your trip home won’t be a waste, and you’ll suffer less. It’s a win-win situation, she pressed. 

Because she has to prove to her old classmates that she’s successful now! the angel on your other shoulder pipes up cheerfully. And isn’t it nice to see old friends anyways? 

The devil scoffs. If she has to prove that she’s successful, is she really successful at all? And what old friends are you even talking about? She had Beomgyu, and that was all. There is zero point in going to this stupid reunion. 

Maybe if we see Beomgyu again, he’ll fall in love with her again and she can live the life she always wondered if she could have if she’d just forgiven him—

You throw a fistful of water at the mirror, washing away the hallucinations. Your eyes are rounded and panicked, from the angel speaking your greatest fear aloud. You always told yourself that if you never thought about it again, it wasn’t real. You didn’t really think or care about it; it was just an intrusive thought. 

Now, it was too real. Your angel spoke the truth. 

You may not be in love with Choi Beomgyu, but you sure as hell have laid awake many nights wondering what would have happened if you did love him back. 

Even more so, what would have happened if you’d never gone to New York in the first place, and stayed with him like he wanted you to. 

—

“That’s the last box of books,” you wheeze. 

Collapsing on top of a freshly sealed box filled with your dusty collection of Harry Potter books, you stare up at your ceiling. Yeonjun’s sweaty forehead appears in your line of vision, a playful expression on his pretty face. “Tired already?” he asks, pulling you up. You groan loudly as you get back on your feet, squeezing his hand tightly. 

“The books are heavy,” you complain. 

“That’s your fault for being such a nerd and having ten million books crammed into one room,” he retorts, wiping his brow with his forearm. “But enough of that. We’re done with it now.” 

You sit down on the floor, which is bare now. The first thing you two had done was roll up your old flower-patterned rug and take it down to the main floor so that the movers could easily pick it up with the rest of your parents’ stuff once they arrived early next week. A half empty bottle of water sits next to you, and you reach for it and chug the remaining liquid. A bead of sweat rolls down your temple and collects in the collar of your dusty t-shirt. 

“We did a lot for just one day,” you praise, as you look up at your newly empty shelves. “It already looks so much emptier in here.” 

“It really does,” Yeonjun says, sitting beside you and squinting at the empty bookshelves. 

You pick up your phone, and your eyes widen at the time. You wanted to give yourself enough time to get ready without rushing and stressing yourself out further. 

“You better get going,” Yeonjun said, noting your reaction to the time. “Don’t want to be late.” 

“I won’t be,” you say confidently. You give him a quick peck on the lips before dashing off to take a shower and wash away all of the dust and sweat before getting dressed. 

Besides stressing yourself out about going in the first place, the next big thing you worried about was what you were going to wear. You didn’t want to show up under or overdressed, and you’d done countless hours of research on what was usually proper. You even scoured some of your old peers’ social media to see if they’d posted at all about the reunion, any hints of what they would look like. Well, their outfits, at least. 

Luckily, it seemed like a lot of your classmates still liked to over share, and you found out more about what others planned to wear that night. Turns out, you had stressed out over almost nothing, as usual. You picked out an outfit from the few choices you’d stuffed into your suitcase, finding something almost new and just fancy enough to put your old classmates to shame. Yes, you were definitely going to outdo your frenemy Shin Ryujin, and without looking tacky too, as Lee Heeseung tended to do. Lucky for him, he was handsome enough that people looked past his terrible sense of fashion and liked him anyways. 

You almost tripped down the worn wooden stairs as you tried to multitask and double-check the location while pulling on your left shoe. It wasn’t like you even needed to look it up on your phone; you knew the way to your old high school like the back of your hand. You’d walked there every day for four years, and driven there countless times with other people. You could close your eyes and find yourself there in a matter of fifteen minutes (or less). 

Yeonjun had insisted on driving you there himself, and he promised you that he’d pick you up as soon as you texted him as well. You felt your heart flutter as he insisted on escorting you, liking the feeling of being cared for. He played music from a decade ago and sang along, making you giggle and pushing your anxiety to the back of your mind. 

Then before you knew it, with a quick kiss, you gathered up your things and left your parents’ car, and stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of your old high school. It’s littered with cigarette butts and old chewed gum, just like it was back in the day, and a wave of nostalgia fills you as you inhale the familiar scent of marijuana and crayons, a jarring juxtaposition that oddly made your heart ache for those years you spent on the cusp of adulthood and the cliff edge of childhood. The very same years that you spent suffering through high school in the very building you were staring at now. 

The front entrance is decked out in colorful balloons and a long white banner that reads “WELCOME CLASS OF ‘08” in crooked black paint. You manage a tight-lipped smile at the staff at the entrance, and duck into the main hallway, where a few people are mingling by the sidelines. The gymnasium is booming with music, and it’s almost too similar to your senior prom (which you of course attended with Beomgyu). 

You don’t recognize the few people talking outside in the hallway, so you prepare yourself to enter the gymnasium. You have to take a deep breath and look down at your outfit to make sure you’re not in your seafoam green prom dress. The watch on your wrist almost feels the same weight as your oversized corsage made of baby’s breath and small dyed blue buds. Your ankle boots seem to morph into dirty black Converse with scribbles on the toes. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the shiny reflection of the freshly repainted lockers, and your rippled reflection is ten years younger, with unblended green eyeshadow plastered up to your eyebrows and a brown-red lipstick on your lips. Your hair is very reminiscent of the time, and your nails are bitten but painted with matching green nail polish. Underneath your dress, your toenails are slathered with the same shade even though they wouldn’t show with your choice in shoes. 

You feel ten years lighter, ten years dumber, ten years younger. 

TEN YEARS BEFORE.

You’ve never had a panic attack before, but you think you’re having one now. 

In the girls’ bathroom. 

At school. 

During your senior prom. 

You’re breathing heavily, wheezing as your lungs seem to collapse in on themselves. Your manicured hands are gripping the sides of the porcelain sink so tightly your knuckles ache, and you’re staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes are teary, but you know that if you let those tears fall your face will be streaked with metallic green trails for the rest of the night. You grit your teeth and will the wetness in your eyes to go the hell away. 

Beomgyu was waiting for you outside the bathroom. 

He’d never even asked you to go to prom with him; he just assumed that the two of you would go together. The week before prom, you complained about not having a date, and he’d turned to you with a surprised look, asking why you couldn’t go with him. For some reason, it hurt your feelings a little when he said that you were his best friend, but it healed the wound a little when he said that there was no one else he’d rather go with. 

He was so handsome in his suit. You knew that his mother picked it up at Dillard’s and had made slight adjustments herself so that it would fit him perfectly. Even so, the white shirt underneath was wrinkled and his tie was crooked, veering to the right. It didn’t matter to you though, and you’d smiled nervously, blushing from your nose to your toes as he offered you a corsage and you held out the boutineer. 

You felt like he was your boyfriend even though you walked the same way to school you did every day. The only difference was that you were all dressed up—and the simple fact that anyone who saw the two of you would assume you were a couple. Especially with the way he had offered his arm to you, and the way you were currently walking perfectly in time as you clutched his thin but muscular arm. 

It was too much when you both got to the school and he kissed you on the cheek right before the two of you walked into the gymnasium. Choppy locks of his messy wolf cut fell into his big brown eyes as he grinned at you, cocking his head to the side innocently as you nearly sweat through your makeup. 

Then, you ended up in the bathroom. A messy stuttered excuse to Beomgyu had to suffice, and you rushed away from him, clammy hands lifting up the train of your dress so that you didn’t trip as you ran away. 

He’s your best friend, idiot, you murmur under your breath, staring at your ragged reflection in the mirror. Stop acting like such a freak. You have a month before you go to school an hour away, and then you won’t have to worry about these feelings ever again. 

You place a hand over your heart, feeling the rapid beating start to finally slow as you take deep breaths and reassure yourself that it’s going to be okay. It’s been harder and harder to tamp down the weird bubbling feelings towards Beomgyu, and you’ve never been happier to be attending your back-up school in the fall. Anything is better than here, you think, grimacing. Anywhere away from Beomgyu will help me work out my shit without him interfering. 

“Your shit” refers to these odd feelings. Obviously. 

You finally let go of the sink and take a step back, relaxing your shoulders and looking at yourself one last time. You look normal. Your face is no longer scrunched up in a confused, panicked expression, and your chest isn’t heaving with shallow breaths. Your hands are less clammy and you feel more at ease. Right before you turn away, you fix the corner of your lipstick with your pinky finger, then spin on your heel and exit the bathroom. 

Beomgyu is waiting there, slumped against the lockers, picking at a cuticle. When you come back, his face lights up, and you can’t help but allow yourself to love him more than a friend, even if it’s just for one night. 

TEN YEARS LATER. 

You practically relive your senior prom in that same bathroom, clutching the sides of the sink and staring at your reflection with a mixture of nausea and anger bubbling in your stomach. This time, all you have to do is take a long drag from your vape before the tension in your head starts to loosen. You exhale, a cloud of white slipping from between your lips as you stuff the little device back in your purse, between your lipstick and your box of cigarettes. 

You feel like your old wallflower self again as you lean against the door before pushing it open to exit the bathroom again. For some reason, being in that bathroom again reminded you of the days where you’d skip class and eat lunch alone. You didn’t want to go back out to the crowd, something that you didn’t have any problems with after you graduated high school and came out of your shell for once and for all. But now, surrounded by your past, your hand hesitates a little before pushing the door open and leaving the confines of a place that’s seen you at your best and your worst for the better part of four years. 

Then it starts to feel like things are moving in slow motion. 

You’re hyper focused on the fact that the heavy bathroom door had dragged a clump of wet paper towels out of the bathroom and across the freshly waxed floors. You grimace as you step around the sodden mess, making a face and successfully avoiding the paper pile. 

You look up, the ghost of a scowl still present on your face, and then you see him. 

It’s been ten years since you’ve seen Choi Beomgyu, and it’s such a strange feeling that resonates through your entire body that you actually feel bile rising hot in your throat. You swallow hard, tasting bitter stomach acid, and can’t do anything else but stare. 

It’s stupid really; you feel, again, like your stupid teenage self. The one who froze up in uncomfortable situations, the one who cried too easily, the one with seemingly permanently sweaty palms that no boy would ever want to touch, especially not when you were around other more radiant individuals. No, you felt like you hadn’t changed at all as you stared at Choi Beomgyu the same way you did when you were eighteen: with nothing but love and pure adoration in your eyes. 

But that’s not to say it wasn’t terribly conflicting. 

As soon as you saw him and it actually registered in your mind that it was him in real life and not some ghostly memory, you felt your throat tighten as you thought of the last interaction you had with him. Those old familiar feelings of softness and love faded as you remembered the full extent of what he did, and it was hard to just pretend like that didn’t happen. You would never forget that. 

But god, was he gorgeous. 

Ten years had nothing on him. Even though twenty-eight wasn’t old in the slightest, you could still see signs of aging in your other classmates. Some had hairlines that had receded much further back than they were when they were eighteen, some had the beginnings of smile lines and crow’s feet, and some even had some wisps of gray hair, though it was only a select few. 

Beomgyu on the other hand looked exactly the same, yet so oddly different you almost couldn’t recognize him unless you looked very closely. You wondered for a moment how different he’d look in your eyes if you’d been by his side for the past decade and watched him age right beside you, rather than miles and miles away, both physically and metaphorically. Then, you attribute the weird unfamiliar feeling in the pit of your stomach to the fact that you haven’t seen him in years. Because really, you hardly know him any more. You can’t really call him your best friend if you have had zero contact for a decade. 

His hair, which you remembered was always messy, shaggy, and unkempt, was cut shorter. Instead of the dark natural black with white streaks, it was a reddish brown. It was just short enough to be acceptable for a professional job, but long enough that it still looked like Beomgyu. His bangs still fell into his eyes the same way as he leaned forward to laugh, and your heart ached as you heard the tail-end of his goofy chuckle. He stood right outside the gymnasium entrance, talking with a guy whose name you think was Soobin. You distantly remember him at the graduation ceremony. He leans against the lockers nonchalantly, making you remember your senior prom again, but this time the way he does so isn’t in a cocky way. He looks genuinely relaxed as his shoulder rests against the cold painted metal, nodding along as Soobin chatters away to him. 

This entire time, you’ve been standing right outside the women’s restroom. You’re kind of surprised that no one’s asked you to move out of the way, given how long you were standing there like an idiot with your mouth hanging open like a fish’s. 

Luckily, no one really gave a fuck. 

People were flying by, most of them on the phone and saying something like, “I was just there! You told me to meet you by the entrance! No, the front entrance!” Others were just standing around, either focusing way too much on their own conversations or typing aggressively on their phones without paying any attention to those around them, which included you. 

You fight the urge to whip out a cigarette right then and there, feeling a headache coming on. 

Taking out your own phone, you shoot a quick text to Yeonjun, who’s already asking you when you think you might be ready to leave. Unsurprisingly, you already feel exhausted and plan to just stop by the main room and then get the fuck out. 

When you look back to the entrance of the gymnasium, Beomgyu and Soobin have disappeared, and you catch a glimpse of Beomgyu’s pale blue dress shirt and Soobin’s khakis rounding the corner to the men’s room, opposite where you’re standing. You breathe a sigh of relief and enter the main room, chewing on your bottom lip as you look around for anyone you know. 

It really is like senior prom, you think grimly, as you sidle over to a table with drinks and snacks. You pick up a can of lemonade and pop it open with the little tab, taking little sips from it as you look around some more. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you here.” 

You swallow a mouthful of lemonade and turn to the source of the voice, eyes widening a little in surprise. 

It’s Karina, who looks as beautiful as ever. Like Beomgyu, she doesn’t seem to have aged at all, rather, her beauty seemed even more radiant. You knew immediately that she was the type to simply get better looking with age, and you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at that thought. 

She offers you a small smile and stands next to you, looking you over with a satisfied look. “You look really good,” she said honestly, “how have you been?” 

You let out a long sigh, ending it with a bitter chuckle. “I’ve been good, finished school, got engaged. After I finish helping my parents pack up the house I won’t have a reason to come back here ever again, so I thought why not?” 

“Right, I heard about them moving out. Where to?” 

“Some apartment complex, I forgot the name.” 

“Was it Autumn Oaks?” 

You shake your head no, pursing your lips. “No, that’s not it…” you mumble. trying to remember. Then it comes to you, and you snap your fingers at no one in particular. “Woodbury!” you say, silently commending yourself on remembering the name. 

“Oh! I must have been wrong then,” Karina laughs, and you’re again jealous of her because of how delicate and pretty she sounds. It’s like the tinkling of little silver bells. Her eyes scrunch up when she laughs, and your gaze washes over her pretty face. Her laughter subsides, and it becomes just a little awkward as she clears her throat. “So, engaged, huh? Who’s the lucky guy?” 

You feel a blush creeping onto your face; your cheeks feel hot. 

“Yeah, his name’s Yeonjun. I met him as soon as I got to New York and we’ve been inseparable ever since.” You feel a little sheepish talking about him for some reason, and you’re unsure why. You’re very proud to have a partner as loving, handsome, talented, and successful as Yeonjun. Yet, it’s still weird to admit your love for him. It’s like he doesn’t fit with this version of you. And then you wonder, for a brief moment, if that really matters—have you really changed that much since high school? So much so that Yeonjun doesn’t even fit into the world you used to live in? 

Awkwardly, you show Karina the home screen on your phone for reference. It’s a cute selfie of you and Yeonjun from the past winter holidays. When the photo was taken, you and Yeonjun had been on an evening stroll when it started to snow, and heavily. The snowflakes were more like clumps, so many little particles gathered together all at once. In the photo you can see the snow clumps clinging to your winter clothes, your hair, even some resting on your eyelashes and eyebrows. Your noses are red from the cold, a single puff of breath escaping your mouth as you’re caught mid-laugh, mid-smile, permanently in the picture. 

At first you hated that picture. You hated that Yeonjun took it when you were caught off guard, hated the way you looked in it. But the more that you looked, the softer your reaction got, and eventually you came to love the photo as much as Yeonjun did. At least, you loved the way he looked in it. With his eyes almost closed from his whole face being scrunched up with laughter, his exposed teeth in his wide smile, and his strong arm wrapped around your shoulders, he looked like the sweetest boyfriend ever. 

Karina seemed to think so too as she audibly cooed at the picture. “You guys are adorable,” she declared. Then she stops talking, swiftly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before she locks eyes with you and continues. “Honestly, and I don’t mean this in a bad way at all, I promise—I always thought that you and Beomgyu would end up together.” 

There’s a pregnant pause, and it was like everyone in the room held their breath before you remembered where you were and laughed, a little too loudly to be natural. “That’s crazy!” you say between fake chuckles, feeling your stomach turn. You briefly wonder what Karina would do if you threw up all over her, and then pray to any higher being out there that it wouldn’t actually happen. “What makes you think that?” you ask quickly, before she can respond to your exclamation. 

She flushes a dark pink. “Oh you know…” she waves a hand in the air. “You two were always together, like always. Everyone thought you were already dating, even if you never were. We all thought so.” 

You get déjá vu, remembering the last time you talked to Karina—when she asked you to hook her up with Beomgyu. You get irrationally angry over this, pushing aside the fact that it’s been ten years since she liked him, and you have a fiancé who obviously isn’t Beomgyu. 

You force a tight-lipped smile, squeezing your can of lemonade so hard it crunches in your fist a little. Karina doesn’t seem to notice, taking a long sip of her own lemonade. 

“Well, it was really nice catching up,” she says, after it’s clear you’re not going to further the conversation. “Good luck. Not that you’ll need it.” She holds out her free hand to you, and you grip it firmly as you both shake. You both burst out into giggles at the odd formality, and the butterflies you get from laughing with a female friend is like nothing else. You wish that you’d had a friend like her in high school. Maybe you even wish that you’d been her friend back in high school. 

“Thanks,” you say, “you too. It was so good to see you again.” You find that you genuinely mean it, and a fire roars in your chest. This was what you wanted. You wanted to come back for closure, and now you have it. You saw Beomgyu and he seemed to be doing just fine without you, mended things with the one person you weren’t on great terms with, and you’re folding it all up in your metaphorical box of childhood memories. You can just feel the satisfaction of tying the ribbon and moving on to the next chapter of your life without anything weighing you down. 

How mature, you think, to be able to move on from childhood just like that. 

You feel accomplished, and a weight that you didn’t even know about has been lifted on your shoulders. You feel lighter than air; you felt as if you could walk amongst the stars if you tried. There’s nothing more for you to do, so you gather yourself and take a deep breath before exiting the gymnasium, giving it one last look. Still, it felt like only yesterday that you’d walked these halls as a student. Those miserable (yet wonderful) years felt like a lightyear and a day away simultaneously. 

You’re fumbling through your purse for your phone, to text Yeonjun when your keychain falls out from your vigorous digging. It lands with a loud clink, metal hitting linoleum, and you groan, moving to pick it up, but another hand snatches it before you do. 

Standing up, you readjust your purse as the person holds the keychain out to you. “Thanks,” you sigh, reaching for it. 

They tug it away then, and you jerk your hand back in surprise. “Where did you get this charm?” the person asks in an accusatory tone. 

You finally get your purse back on your shoulder and look the freak in the eyes, but just as you’re about to give them a piece of your mind it clicks. Your breath is stolen from you; you feel like you’re shriveling up on the spot, no oxygen flowing through your veins. 

Choi Beomgyu is standing in front of you, frowning at your old matching keychains. 

Why hadn’t you gotten a new one, damn it? It’s not something that you regularly thought about; you always made a mental note to get a new one but it always slipped your mind. It was never important enough for you to write down. 

You try to say something—what, you don’t know—but your mouth is so dry that you hardly rasp out a single word. Beomgyu finally looks up, dark eyebrows angry and scowling, but as soon as your eyes meet, he melts. You see the hurt, confusion, and warmth flow through his face like waves onto a shore. He drops the keychain again, eyebrows furrowed and hands shaking. 

What are you supposed to even say in this situation? You have no fucking idea. 

That’s why you run. You squat down quickly to snatch your keys up, and then sprint for the front entrance. The doors are wide open, and you can see the pink and purple sunset, just out of reach. You don’t look back, and you’re soon you’re half running, half tripping down the staircase and then slipping on the dirt pathway all the way back to your house. 

It’s stupid. It’s juvenile. It’s immature. Why did you run from him like a maniac? Why didn’t you just say hello and then goodbye like a normal person? No, now things were definitely going to be weird. 

Sweat is running down your back when you finally get back to your house. It’s not a long walk, but even though the sun had now fully gone down, it was still hotter than ever. You forgot how nasty summers in your hometown could be. 

Musty, muggy air surrounds you as you wipe your moist forehead with your wrist. You feel suffocated in your semi-fancy outfit, and your dress shoes are killing your feet. All you want is to get home, take a shower, and forget that you ever saw him. 

So that’s what you do. You don’t tell anyone that you saw him, even though you know they’re wondering. Especially Yeonjun, who was so eager to pick you up from the school and hear all about the reunion. You can see it written across all their faces as you eat dinner together—while they ate, at least. You still felt so sick that all you did was pick at it with your fork and push things around on your plate. 

Afterwards, you kiss Yeonjun on the forehead and slip out the door. It’s too early to go to sleep just yet, and you want some fresh air. 

Now that the sun had fully gone away, the air had cooled more, but just a little. It was thick and warm, and the buzzing of mosquitoes and other pests hummed in your ears as you itched an already inflamed bite on your ankle. Fireflies danced close to the grass, the flashing yellow lights illuminating the dark blades. Distantly, you could hear big bullfrogs croaking and crickets chirping, and you knew that it came from the small stream that you and Beomgyu liked to mess around in way back when. You lost a sandal there once, you think.

The road from your house to your school started off as black asphalt, but later turned into a winding dirt path, carved by human feet alone, through a small thicket of trees fondly referred to as “the forest.” There were multiple ways to get there though; you and Beomgyu just liked this one best. You stand where dirt meets concrete, staring into the forest, and puffing on a cigarette, exhaling plumes of smoke floating up towards the massive full moon. It’s still too hot out, but you somehow feel more suffocated inside the house. Something about Yeonjun and your parents staring you down, their eyes practically begging to know what happened. You don’t need their damn sympathy, you just needed to chill the fuck out. 

“Big city girl needs her nicotine fix?” 

Somehow, you knew this would happen. A part of you knows that’s why you came out here tonight. 

“Only when I’m stressed.” You purposely take an exaggerated, long drag.

“Because of me? I’m flattered.” 

Beomgyu finally stands beside you, heels on the asphalt and toes brushing against the loose dirt. You refuse to look him in the eye. You refuse to look at him at all. The only light is from the moon and your lit cigarette, flashing reddish orange every time you breathed in. 

“What do you want?” There’s no softness in your voice despite your opposing feelings inside. You drop the remains of your cigarette onto the dirt ground and stamp it out with your shoe, which you now realize are an old pair of Converse, worn down and caked with dirt. 

And, complete with faded Sharpie scribbles made by you and the cocky bastard standing next to you. 

“You ran away from me earlier.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“You ran away from me ten years ago too.” 

You groan loudly, wiping your face dramatically until the reds of your eyes showed. “I’m not doing this again,” you say, in a voice that’s much higher pitched than normal. You’re getting mad. 

“What, you’re just gonna run away again? Very mature,” he said sarcastically. Your heart panged with hurt; there was venom in his words. Clearly, he was still hurting from you leaving. He hadn’t healed either. 

“Say what you want to say, I’m only here until the end of the week anyways,” you snap. 

Honestly, even though you’re still mad at him, a part of you still cares deeply for him, and it makes your throat tighten when you see the despair on his face. You know you did the right thing back then; leaving, and never talking to Beomgyu again. You never wanted to let him think that what he did was okay, and you knew that if you ever reached out to him and apologized he would assume that. Even so, there were so many nights where you sobbed into your pillow, restraining yourself from calling his number, not even knowing if he ever got a new one. Maybe that was another reason why you didn’t want to call; if you tried to call and couldn’t reach him, it’d be ten times more humiliating. 

“You know I’m sorry, don’t you?” he asks quietly. 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it okay,” you mumble, dejectedly. “Just because you said that you’re sorry, just because you are sorry, it doesn’t mean you didn’t try to purposely ruin my future. For selfish reasons too.” 

He doesn’t reply for a minute, cocking his head to the side like he always used to do. Seeing him with his old mannerisms makes you feel sick. 

“I know,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “I was a stupid kid. I didn’t want you to leave, even if it meant holding you back. It was so damn selfish, and I am so sorry.” 

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Okay. Thanks.” Again, Beomgyu doesn’t reply right away, and instead he turns to face you. The moonlight hits his face perfectly at this angle, and his features are lit up by the beams of silver. You can’t help but look over at him too, staring into his brown eyes that look completely black in the night. They’re so big and dark, but the moonlight reflects sparkles into them. Your scowl softens as you take in the slight signs of aging that you realize he’s beginning to show. His jawline is much more square now; his chin and nose slightly more prominent. There’s faint smile lines traced into his smooth skin, so light that you know you wouldn’t be able to see it in the daylight. The faintest whisper of stubble was only obvious on his chin, if you looked very closely. “Is that all you wanted to say to me?” you say finally, after what seemed like an eternity of you two staring into each other’s eyes. 

“No,” he admitted. “There’s so much I want to say, but I’ll forget most of it before I even begin. But I missed you a lot. And I still love you a lot too.” 

You wince at the declaration of his feelings, and you hope to any god out there that he means he still loves you as a friend, as someone he’s known for so long. But you know that isn’t what he means. You ask anyways. 

“And by love… you mean…” 

“I never stopped loving you,” he said fiercely, and his eyes look wet in the pale light. “I never will.” 

“You’re crazy,” you say, but your voice cracks, and when you see Beomgyu’s pleading eyes finally spill over at the sound of emotion breaking through your rock solid facade, you shatter. 

You’re leaking like a broken faucet; no sobs or cries, just silent tears streaming down your face non-stop. Beomgyu’s crying too, but he’s the opposite. His shoulders are shaking so hard from the force of holding his sobs in, and you can hear his little chokes as he swallows them down. Against your own better judgement, you mentally say fuck it, and walk over to him to take him in your arms. 

You regret it and love it at the same time. 

He smells just like he did back then; you can tell he uses the same cologne and it makes you smile into the top of his head, where your chin rests softly. And yes, the smell still makes your nostrils sting initially—but you find it doesn’t really bother you like it used to. His body against yours feels different physically but the same in memory. He’s broader, a little taller, a little more squishy now that he’s out of his teen boy phase where he grows faster than he can eat to catch up. But the way his hands clasp around your back, the way he buries his face in your neck, the shake of his left leg (you can tell he’s genuinely nervous because of this), it’s all the same. 

You watch your own tears drip down into his red-brown hair, smoothing them away before they can soak in. You sit there on the asphalt in silence, stroking his soft hair and holding him close, as you both cry. 

You almost press a quick kiss to the top of his head, but as soon as you look up you see Yeonjun standing there, flowery apron on and an oven mitt on one hand. Right, he’d been in the middle of baking dessert when you’d run out. You push Beomgyu away, a little too roughly, as Yeonjun looks the two of you up and down suspiciously. “Is that Beomgyu?” he asks sharply, and Beomgyu, upon hearing another man’s voice, turns around before you can even open your mouth to reply. 

“I am. And who are you?” Beomgyu asks, rather rudely. You shove him again and stand up, walking over to Yeonjun and shaking your head. You bring your wrist up to your eyes and roughly wipe away any of the remaining tears. Yeonjun notices this and his expression softens as he bends down to try to look at your face. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” he murmurs softly, rubbing your back gently. “This asshole didn’t try anything, did he?” 

“What did you just call me?” Beomgyu asks loudly. 

“I called you an asshole because that’s what you are,” Yeonjun snaps. He gently takes you by the arm so he can guide you back to the house, and you let him. “And just so you know, I’m Yeonjun, her fiancé. So fuck off.” He sends one last bone-chilling glare at Beomgyu before he wraps an arm around you and walks you back down the road. Beomgyu can see him leaning down to whisper in your ear, and he grits his teeth angrily, knowing that you’re both talking about him. 

“It’s fine, Jun, really,” you say, between stuttered gasps for air. You’re crying again, harder this time. It’s embarrassing; you’re not sad, you’re angry. 

“Are you sure? He didn’t try to pull anything? Promise?” 

“Promise,” you choke out, and Yeonjun presses a swift kiss to your wet cheek as he closes the front door behind the two of you. 

“Then… can I ask what was happening when I found you two?” he asks quietly. 

You avert your eyes and stare at the ground. You’ve tracked in some dirt, and you know your mom will be pissy if you don’t clean it up before you go to bed. Yeonjun says your name, reaching over to tilt your chin up so you can look him in the eye. 

“He started crying because he felt bad, so then I felt bad and… I just hugged him. He looked so pathetic.” You tell Yeonjun the truth, and he accepts it immediately. There’s no question about it; he trusts you completely. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that alone,” he says, sounding genuinely sorry that he wasn’t there with you. “I would have beat his ass.” 

“And that’s why we walked away,” you said, laughing a little and wiping your teary eyes. 

“That’s right,” he repeats, pulling you into a tight hug. An immense wave of guilt washes over you as you flinch; your first thought was something terrible. 

You like Beomgyu’s hugs better, and you always have. 

—

The next morning dawns hot and dry.

Unlike the previous day, in which the air held so much moisture you could feel your clothes clinging to your seemingly permanently damp body, this heat was unbearable in a different way. 

You swear you can feel your skin cracking and drying as soon as you step into the direct sunlight, no matter how much sunscreen you apply. Heat waves are practically visible when you look outside; they’re distorting the image of the big tree in your backyard. 

This morning, you’re sitting on your front porch with a paper plate and a steaming mug of coffee. On the paper plate is a blueberry streusel muffin; courtesy to your fiancé’s above average baking skills—and also the reason behind the flower-patterned apron he had been wearing when he came across you and Beomgyu having a weird emotional snot-fest. The muffin is a little soggy, as muffins tend to degrade to once they’ve been shut in a tupperware overnight, but the promise of a sweet treat first thing in the morning far outweighed the initial disappointment upon seeing a second morning muffin. 

Chewing slowly, you dust off your streusel sticky hands, crumbs rolling off your palms and landing onto the peeling wood of your front porch. You watch one big crumb of streusel roll down the expanse of your thigh and down two, three steps until it lands in a patch of sunlight further down the stairs that lead to the street. It’s early enough in the morning that the sun isn’t directly overhead and therefore burning you as soon as you walk out the front door, and you’re grateful for the temporary shade. Your bare feet brush against the edge of the shadows, toes dipping into light and spreading across the sun warmed wood. 

It’s a gloriously individual morning, and you breathe in the smell of trees and warm grass. If only you could freeze this moment in time and revisit it whenever you wanted. If only you had such an escape that you could return to when times got tough. 

But really, that morning is the only peaceful part of your day. You’re arguing with your co-worker on the phone as soon as you down your last sip of coffee, which had by then cooled into a lukewarm liquid. You hate the last few gulps of a hot drink, because there is nothing worse than a lukewarm drink that’s meant to be hot. Then, irritable from your row with Jeongin, who fucked up your entire project and needed help restoring a few very simple documents, paired with the misery of living in a house with no AC during the hottest, driest summer months, you end up being snappy with Yeonjun. 

Also, your mother made your least favorite dish for dinner, and as much as you appreciated your parents for cooking for you, there was no way in hell you were eating it. 

Stomach growling, head aching, and fingers sore from furious emailing (thanks to Jeongin), you curl up on your side in bed. Your hair is still damp from your recent shower, and your face is shiny and a little sore from you taking out your anger on your face when you were washing it. 

You’re plucking at a piece of your hair, just toying with it mindlessly, when you feel the edge of your bed dip down as someone sits on it. You freeze, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth to chew on it nervously until you taste blood. 

“Long day, huh?” Yeonjun asked softly. You scoot over a little to let him lay next to you, but you don’t turn to look at him. He sidles in carefully, leaving just a little space between your bodies in case you’re not comfortable with too much contact tonight. You shrug in response, the only sound being your t-shirt brushing against your bed sheets as your shoulders move up and down in place of real words. 

“I was just annoyed, and everything piled up so quickly after I had to fix Jeongin’s shit.” You spit out Jeongin’s name like it’s poisonous, and Yeonjun can’t help but chuckle at your petty behavior. 

“He’s a kid,” he chided, “but he is a pretty dumb one, at that. I thought young people were supposed to be good with technology.” 

“Doesn’t apply to clueless idiots,” you mumble, your words muffled from your lips being pressed to your pillowcase. 

“It’s been a long few days for you, hasn’t it?” he asked, forgetting about Jeongin and his antics. “Are you sure you don’t wanna fly home early?” 

Home. Fly home. Right, this wasn’t home any more, even though you always referred to it as that. I’m going home for Christmas. This girl I knew from back home got married last month. My hometown is a wasteland and I never want to go back. But I don’t want to lose it, either. 

“I’m okay,” you start, and you can just picture Yeonjun’s doubtful frown without turning to look at his face. “Fine, I will be okay once this is all wrapped up and over with. It’s a stressful time but it’s something I have to do. I had to come back to my high school reunion for closure. I had to at least see Beomgyu one last time. I had to help my parents clean and sell the house.” You’re laying it out for him, word by word, and he pays attention to your intonation and serious tone, moving a little closer so that he could rest his head right next to yours. His nose poked the back of your scalp as he inhaled the scent of your shampoo, and underneath that, the scent of you. 

You swallow hard, feeling all of the anger from your long, stressful day melt away. Yeonjun’s steady breathing and complete attention to your stupid rant had calmed you. Silently, you both stare up at the warm-toned walls, washed with a dim yellow light from the small lamp on your nightstand, the only light in the house left on at the moment. It was late, past midnight, and you two were the only two souls in the house that were awake. 

Holding your breath, you slowly move closer to Yeonjun until your bodies are pressed so tightly to each other that you couldn’t wedge a single finger between where you two were connected. He breathes in harshly at the feeling of your hips connecting, flexing his hands into fists to try and control himself. Then, with a shaking hand, you reach over to find him, and once your fingers brush against his, you slip your hand into his hold. His fingers are warm, soft, familiar. Especially from the past few days of moving heavy objects. You bring your intertwined hands up to your chest, and then they part—you press his newly free hand against your breast, letting him feel your hardened, sensitive nipple. He groans softly, deeply, into your hair as he thumbs at the hardened nub over the thin material of your shirt. 

You exhale, happy that he seems to have missed you as much as you missed him. 

Now you feel his hard length pressed up against your backside, grinding roughly into you and making you slick with anticipation, though you were both still fully clothed. Momentarily, he let go of your tit, and before you could whisper a question he slipped his hand underneath your shirt to grope at them freely, without any barriers. He’s breathing heavier now, soft grunts escaping his lips ever now and then. You’re holding back a whimper as he sucks hickies onto your neck, his hot tongue making you squirm. 

All in one quick fumble, you’re facing him now and your lips are pressed to his. Your neck is stinging from his teeth, your nipples burning from his calloused fingers pinching and teasing. Worst of all, your clothed cunt, grinding against Yeonjun’s hard muscular thigh, which he had pressed roughly between your legs as soon as you turned to face him, gasping. 

You feel your teeth knock against his as you choke down a moan when your clit nudges against his thigh just right, and he reaches up with one hand to grab your throat gently, just enough to get your attention. He shushes you, and you whimper quietly as his fingers move up from your throat to inside your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the digits, sucking them deeper into your mouth, eager to please as you stare at his gorgeous face, half hidden in the shadows. His lips are swollen and red in the limited light, his eyes hooded and dark as he stares at you sucking on his fingers, desperate and longing. You haven’t felt this way in a long time. When was the last time you wanted to please a man this badly? 

Yeonjun pulls his fingers out of your mouth, staring at the string of saliva that connects them to your bottom lip momentarily before it inevitably breaks, and then he reaches down into your pants, spit soaked fingers expertly finding your clit, as they have done for years and years. He knows everything about your body, and better yet, everything about your mind that makes your body react. 

He’s going to give it to you exactly how you like it, exactly like he’s done for years and years. He’s never let you down before, and he isn’t planning on it now, even when it’s in your childhood bedroom. 

He winks at you before ducking under the covers, and you feel his hands grabbing at the waistband of your pants. You lift up your ass, letting him remove your shorts and panties at the same time, and finally, you feel his warm breath tickling your inner thighs as he leans in. 

He presses sloppy, wet kisses down your thighs as he works his way to the center, and finally you feel his fingers teasing you with light touches, poking and prodding just to get on your nerves a little so that you’ll pull his hair the way he likes it. And that you do, tangling your fingers in his brown locks as he smiles into your cunt, your wetness dripping down his chin. 

Yeonjun reappears once he’s done his job, so well that you had to stuff your fist into your mouth when you came so that you didn’t wake up your parents with the loudest, most pornographic moan you’ve ever uttered. Your legs are shaking as he emerges from between your legs, your slick making his lips and chin glisten in the light. You reach up to grab him by the shirt, dragging him down to you so that you can taste yourself on his swollen, pouty lips. It’s salty, a little bitter and musky, and you can smell it all over his face as you messily make out with him, lips sliding over each other as you fumble with the bottom of his shirt to try and tug it up. Feeling your cold hands on his stomach, he reluctantly stops kissing you to rip it off his body, tossing it onto the floor with a flourish. It joins the pile of clothes on the floor, alongside your shorts and panties, which had made their way closer and closer to the edge of the bed before finally just falling in a sad heap, forgotten about in the heat of the moment. 

You watch his muscles flex in the dim light as he tosses his shirt onto the floor, your eyes glowing with lust. He dives back in; kissing you like it’s the last time he’ll be able to taste your lips as he fumbles with his pants. You part once more to rid yourself of the remaining clothing items clinging to your bodies; your shirt and his pants. 

You’re already reaching over with a spit soaked hand to grab at his dick before he even gets the chance to toss his boxers on the floor, and he sharply inhales at the feeling of you sliding your slick hand over his cock head. You feel it twitch under your touch and giggle. The effect that you have on him has never dimmed; you are the most gorgeous person in the world to him. 

Before you and Yeonjun had officially gotten together, you had just been friends. He was two years older than you, an upperclassman already, and he didn’t want to hold you back with a relationship as soon as you got to school. No matter how much he liked you, he kept his distance just a little as he watched you grow and change as a person in those first few months as an adult. In this time, you managed to rack up a few sexual experiences, some better than others, all being below average at best. 

It was hooking up, that’s all it was. That’s the only kind of sex that you had, the only kind that you thought existed. Fucking. Hooking up. Having sex. Such plain, brash terms. 

Then, you were with Yeonjun. 

Fucking had a different meaning with him. There was affection, an underlying softness even when he was being rough, an overflow of love pouring from his heart into yours every time he was inside of you. It made you feel weird at first, and you actually avoided him for a bit after you started crying during one heated night due to feeling so safe in his arms. It was so new that you got scared; you thought it was wrong. 

It wasn’t just fucking any more, you later thought, he was making love to you. It was as simple as that. You had previously thought that fucking, having sex, making love, hooking up—it was all pretty much the same thing; they were all synonymous terms. No, the difference with Yeonjun was that he made love to you, and that was the missing puzzle piece in your previously deeply unsatisfying sex life. 

You knew that this is what he was doing now, especially tonight when you were both feeling so vulnerable. His lips hardly leave yours, save for when one of you needs to take a gasping breath, and his hands roam your body, embracing and worshiping every single part of you. It’s driving you crazy, as you’re doing nothing but kissing though you can feel his hard cock brushing against your weeping slit every time he leans forward. To remedy this, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer to you. Now he’s grinding against you, his length pulsating against your cunt with every movement either of you make. 

“Please Jun, please just do it already,” you whine, over and over, crying in his ear. 

He teases you endlessly, stuttering his hips to make your breath catch in your throat, smirking at your visceral reactions to him. In the middle of your begging, he angles his hips differently, and his head slips into you, a breathy moan leaving your lips. He bites down hard on his lower lip, resisting the urge to groan aloud and slap your tit to see it jiggle, and pushes the rest of his cock in, warmth enveloping him as he closes his eyes. 

Your hands scrabble for something to hold onto, and his shaking hands find your flailing ones. He grips your hand tightly, pinning it above your head as he rocks his hips into you. The covers slip off of his narrow hips at the slow, constant thrusts, exposing all of you in the light. You look down to see where you’re connected, see the ring of your slick around the base of his shiny cock, and throw your head back with a whine as he pushes into you particularly roughly. 

Yes, sex with Yeonjun is always full of passion, full of love. It elevates the experience for you, when you feel so deeply and wholly for the person that you’re having relations with. 

You can’t help but pull him in for another kiss when he chokes out a quick warning, words spilling from his trembling lips. You’ve orgasmed twice already, from Yeonjun putting off his own orgasm in order to make sure you achieve yours. His neglected cock, edged multiple times, was red and leaking copious amounts of precum by the time his trembling hand directed it back inside of your swollen pussy after your second high. 

You feel warmth erupt from his cock as he cries into the kiss, unable to tamp down the soft groans that escape his lungs. Slick, wet sounds are the only thing you can hear apart from the both of your labored breathing, as he keeps thrusting his softening cock inside. You feel his cum leaking down your ass cheeks, and your cunt clenches around him as he stills inside of you. 

Somehow, the two of you fall asleep like that. It’s just so warm and fuzzy and sticky, and you’re so tired that when he lays his sweaty face in your chest, you close your eyes and don’t open them again until the early hours of the morning, when you feel like you’re about to piss yourself. 

You leave Yeonjun in the cum-stained bed; it’s still just past two in the morning, but you know you won’t be able to fall back asleep now. At least, not while there’s rivulets of dried semen down your inner thighs and you smell like a mixture of saliva and sweat. After you flush the toilet, you stare at the reflection of your hickey covered neck in the mirror hanging on your wall, pressing against one lightly with your pointer finger and grimacing at the purple color. It’d be a bitch to try and cover. You want to shower again so badly, but first you need a smoke. You find a half empty box of stale cigarettes in your purse and a gas station lighter on your nightstand, and you open your window and step out onto the roof. 

It’s a cool night. Your bare feet and legs—you only put on Yeonjun’s shirt and a fresh pair of panties when you woke up—scrape against the rough surface of the roof tiles. You’re clutching the box of cigarettes so hard you think you might have dented a few of them. Balancing one between your lips, you light it and inhale deeply, tossing the lighter down and leaning back before exhaling. You watch the exhaled smoke rise up to the dark sky before eventually dissipating. 

“I seriously think you have a problem,” a disapproving voice states, and you curse aloud, almost dropping the lit cigarette off the roof as you sit up. 

Again, Beomgyu stands there, looking wounded. “Why the fuck are you here?” you ask. Suddenly, the way that you’re dressed makes you extremely uncomfortable. Beomgyu seems to notice this too, eyes following the length of your bare legs, disappearing beneath the oversized shirt you have on. With disappointment, he realizes this is probably Yeonjun’s shirt covering your body. This is quickly remedied when you sit up in annoyance and he catches a flash of your panties underneath. He feels like a teenage boy when a simple glimpse of white panties makes his cock twitch in his pants. 

“I wanted to be an adult and say I’m sorry,” he says indignantly, offended at your violent tone. 

“At one in the morning?” You scoff, stubbing out your cigarette on the roof tiles even though it’s only half-gone. You don’t feel like smoking any more, not with Beomgyu’s judgemental eyes on you. 

“He get you into that shit?” 

“Jesus, Gyu,” you snap. 

“Fine, fine! I don’t care. I’m sorry.” His lithe figure, bathed in moonlight, moves closer to you, but with a slight caution. You know he isn’t completely sure how you feel about him. 

“Just sit down already.” 

He sits.

“You called me Gyu again.” 

His voice sounds thick, pained. You habitually reach up and touch your chapped, kiss-swollen lips. You hadn’t even noticed that the old nickname slipped out; it felt so natural to say even though it had been so long since you had. The closest you came to saying any variation of your ex best friend’s name was the silent mouthing of the vowels and consonants that made up one of the most beautiful names you’ve ever heard. The loneliest nights, mostly the ones that you struggled through right after you moved away, were spent with the ghost of his name on your lips. You were too cowardly to go any further, as if the simple singular utterance of his name might summon him from across the country and into your dorm room. The wound was so fresh that even the made-up version of Beomgyu that came with the memories was too much for you to bear. 

“Remember all the nights we’d come out here and just look at the stars?” he asks suddenly, and all of a sudden you truly feel eighteen and heartsick again—staring up into the dark void of nothingness above you, rendering you and Beomgyu smaller than the tiniest ant, nothing more than two less than microscopic specks on such a vast planet. 

“Yeah,” you manage to get out, though your voice sounds oddly strained. 

“The night before you left—the last time I saw you—I was looking at the stars and thinking of us.” He laughs a little, and you can’t help but turn to look at him, your dry eyes burning with the possibility of tears. You’re on your side now, facing him; he’s still laying flat on his back with his hands clasped behind his head. His eyes are locked on the night sky, so focused that he doesn’t even realize that the girl he loves is staring at him with tears in her eyes. “And then, you just appeared. It was like I manifested you. You looked fake in the moonlight too.” 

“Fake?” 

“Yeah, you almost didn’t look like yourself. You were wearing this dress, a floaty looking one with flowers, and you looked so pretty that I thought I was imagining you standing in front of me. I thought I made it all up, until I grabbed your hand and you were warm and solid and real.” Now he turns to look at you and realizes that you’re facing him, paying full attention to his rambling. Slowly, he mirrors your pose, turning to look at you. Your faces were close enough now that if you both leaned in, you’d kiss. The very thought of that makes your stomach turn—with anticipation or dread, you’re unsure. 

“Like now.” He whispers this last part, before looking down and taking your hand in his gently. His hands are different from Yeonjun’s; instead of being smooth and soft, they are dry and calloused. You can see how years of work in his dad’s old shop has taken a toll on his poor hands; the days where his hands were young and clean were long gone. You hold his hand up to your face to study it closer, to memorize each little line and freckle so that when you left for the last time you could remember exactly what Choi Beomgyu’s hand looked like, exactly how it felt to hold. Years from now, you will be sick and dying in bed, and you will wonder if the pale, slight freckles on the back of his hand will disappear amongst dozens of age spots. Will his fingers gnarl and twist like his grandfather’s did, falling victim to arthritis? Will his nails grow thick and yellow, like so many other elders’ do? You take in the cracked fingertips, the dirt and oil under his nails. 

“Like now?” you ask thickly.

He nods, head slightly bobbing up and down. It was so subtle that you almost didn’t catch it, instead focusing on his full lips and how they glistened. How was it possible for a man to have such perfect, delicate features? You’d never seen anyone so pretty in your life. There’s something about seeing a beautiful man in the middle of the night; the moonlight will illuminate their face in a completely different way than sunlight does. It will make you see an entirely new side of him, and it will only make you fall deeper in love with this unattainable, gorgeous boy. Once you see a beautiful boy in the moonlight, you will never be able to forget about them, and this is when you know that you will never be able to let Choi Beomgyu go. More time could elapse—ten, fifteen, twenty more years—and you’d still think of him too often for it to be normal. You’d still hope that one day, you get another chance to try things again. 

That is how you find yourself kissing Choi Beomgyu, nothing but a single pane of glass separating the two of you and your sleeping fiancé. 

His lips are slightly chapped. They’re warm, but his tongue is hot and wet as it glides across your lips, begging you to open your mouth. You do so after only a brief hesitance, sighing a little into his mouth as he cautiously puts a hand on your waist. The feeling of his hands on you seems to snap you out of your daze, and you quickly pull away from him, sitting back up and looking at the window, panicked. It’s still dark. No one is awake but you and Beomgyu. 

He reaches for your hand again. “Are you okay?” he asks. It’s a stupid question, you think—you just cheated on your loving, perfect fiancé—and he’s asking if you’re fine? Of course, he’s guilt-free in this—Yeonjun’s feelings mean nothing to him. 

“I just can’t do this. Not while he’s sleeping right there.” You look away, guilt already melting away as you stare into Beomgyu’s gorgeous eyes. It’s like you forget all about Yeonjun as long as Beomgyu’s there in his place.

Beomgyu ponders your words for a moment, looking off into the distance and pursing his lips. “Then… let’s go somewhere else.” 

You bite your tongue. Somewhere else? 

“And that means…?” you ask. 

“I know a place,” he says mysteriously. “Do you trust me?” 

You know you do before you even say it. Before the incident, there was no one you trusted more than Beomgyu. And even after the incident, you know that you would be safe with him. 

You quickly climb back into your room and snatch up a pair of shorts that are laying on the floor, pulling them on so that you’re not walking around in your panties. You also slip on some shoes, the first comfortable pair you see. 

After you climb back out the window and shut it as quietly as possible, he motions for you to follow him. He shimmies down the side of your house, whispering directions to you when you try to mimic his moves. You slip a little more than halfway down, your panicked scream catching in your throat, reducing it to little more than an exhale, but you land in strong, firm arms. Beomgyu rolls his eyes at your clumsiness, not the least bit phased, but you have to calm your rapidly beating heart before you even think to thank him. 

You feel a new fire burning in your chest, the thrill of doing something so daring, so wrong, waking up your hibernating rebellious side. You’re reminded of other moonlit walks you had with Beomgyu, years and years ago. You snuck out the same way, through your bedroom window—you just didn’t fall halfway down. 

It’s only when you’re more than halfway there that you realize where Beomgyu is leading you. He helps you across a shallow stream, telling you which rocks are safe to step on and which are slick with damp moss, and then a memory pops back into your head. You land safely on the dirt ground, clutching Beomgyu’s hand, and you grin. “Are we going to Thomas?” 

Thomas—the nickname that you and Beomgyu gave to the abandoned boxcar in a clearing in the woods. At the time, you were regularly babysitting a child in the neighborhood, who was obsessed with the animated show about a talking train named Thomas. For a few months, you and Beomgyu watched a little more of the show than you’d like to ever admit. You also both enjoyed it more than you’d like to admit. But something that you were more than happy to admit, you now had a good code name for the train car in the woods. 

“You still remember!” he exclaims. “I was starting to think you seriously forgot about him.” 

“I did, until we crossed the stream,” you admitted. “It’s been a while.” 

“It really has,” he agrees, “since when, junior year of high school?” 

“Something like that.” 

You only have to walk a little longer before the trees thin out, and you spot the faded old car on the other end of the small clearing. You take Beomgyu’s hand, and you both run over, laughing openly and bumping into each other playfully. He boosts you up into the car first, and then hoists himself up and sits beside you. 

The door had been ripped off the car since you’d found it, and it was now covered in moss and broken down into splinters behind the structure. This meant that there was a section of the car that was lit up by the moonlight, so you weren’t stuck in complete darkness. That was where you and Beomgyu sat, legs hanging over the edge, until he nudged you and got up, walking further inside the car until he sat down at the far end, motioning for you to come inside. You follow him, kneeling beside him, heart hammering in your chest as he slowly takes your hands. 

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks quietly.

You swallow hard, but nod. You shut your eyes tightly before your lips collide, but as soon as he’s kissing you again you don’t care any more—there’s no more hesitation. You’re bringing his hands to your chest eagerly, sucking his tongue into your mouth. 

He pushes you down, so that your back is flat on the floor of the car, and he’s slotted between your legs. He’s groping your tits over your shirt, pressing his knee into your cunt. 

You pull out of the kiss, opening your eyes and studying him. His lips are swollen now, and he’s panting. “I want to see you,” you whisper. 

“Then look,” he says sassily, cocking his head to the side, shifting his bangs into his eyes. 

“No,” you whine softly, “I want to see all of you.” 

He holds his breath once he realizes what you mean. You watch intently as he slowly sits back on his heels, taking off every item of clothing carefully. You do the same, making a neat pile so that you don’t lose anything. 

You’ve seen him shirtless before, when you’d go to the pool or he’d change his shirt in front of you on the occasion. But now, he looked different. He’s more muscular, more solid. He’s still slim, but it’s clear that he’s worked on his body and grown into it more over the years. You can’t take your eyes off of him as he takes off his pants, gaze fixated on the bulge in his boxers. He flushes a dark pink when he follows your eyes, and gets back between your legs, staring at your naked tits. Your nipples are stiff in the cool night air, and he gently tweaks one of them, smiling when you inhale sharply. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, when his mouth is an inch away from your breast. His warm breath ghosts over your skin, and you moan quietly, nodding and pushing your chest against his lips. He sucks your nipple into his mouth, grazing his teeth against it, and you can’t help but place a hand on the back of his head and lean into his mouth. 

When he’s done admiring your tits, which he’s dreamed about for years, he places wet kisses down your body, until he reaches the band of your panties. “Okay?” he asks again, just as his fingertips curl underneath the elastic. 

“Yes, please,” you gasp, and he pulls them down your thighs, tossing them into the pile of clothes in the corner. He places his hands on your knees, spreading your legs, eager to see you. He leans down, parting your glistening lips in the moonlight, and feeling prideful—you’re wet because of him. He did this, not Yeonjun. 

It seems that the differences between Beomgyu and Yeonjun keep growing—the two of them eat pussy differently too. 

Beomgyu’s messy with it, spit already dripping down your cunt and down his chin. He’s rough too, pressing his tongue against your clit until your thighs are shaking uncontrollably. His soft hair curls around your fingers as you pull his head closer to your cunt. 

You cum, surprisingly harder than you have in a while. You’re whining and bucking your hips into his face, until he finally lifts his face. His lips and chin are wet, and he has a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“What?” you ask, suddenly embarrassed at the way he’s staring you down. 

“You’re so hot,” he sighs, and you feel yourself blushing at his genuine glee. 

“Whatever,” you mumble, suppressing a giggle, but he doesn’t stop smiling to himself as he takes off his boxers. 

You think it’s completely, wholly unfair how beautiful he looks naked. 

Something about his skin makes him look extra luminous in the moonlight that washes over his body in pale stripes, slipping through the slats of the wooden walls and pouring in through the door frame. His auburn-brown hair looks dark cherry red in the limited light, so different from the fine black hairs that litter his arms, legs, and stomach. This is where your gaze dips lower, towards the one part of Beomgyu you’d never seen before. 

His cock, hard and leaking, twitches as he feels you staring. You’re impressed—but really, you weren’t expecting to be disappointed. You’ve never seen him naked before, but you weren’t an idiot. After seeing him in his swim trunks that last summer, you couldn’t help but bring that image to mind whenever your fingers traveled beneath the elastic band of your panties. You swallow hard as he drops back down, hovering over you. He’s breathing heavily, nervously, as he tries to decipher the unassuming expression on your face. 

“I hope I’m not disappointing you,” he can’t help but blurt out, not thinking straight. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face close to yours again, kissing him long and deep. He melts into your embrace, quickly reciprocating your excitement. You feel the head of his dick nudge against your slit as he moves closer, and you unconsciously buck your hips up, slipping it inside for just a moment. You both shudder at the sudden closeness, the sensation of being closer than you ever have before, and you part—he stares so deeply into your eyes that you swear he’s staring at your soul. You feel more naked than ever; it surpasses your physical body. You’ve exposed your loves, your fears, your darkest secrets and the skeletons in your closet, before baring your tangible nudity—something you’d never done before. 

His eyes drop to your neck and chest, and the adoring fuzzy gaze disappears as he takes in the dark marks left by Yeonjun. His hold on your hips tighten, so hard that you’re gasping from the tingling mixture of pain and pleasure, and he attacks the same spot on the side of your neck, the same one that Yeonjun had been nibbling at as he worked you through an orgasm. It’s sore, swollen—the skin is hot to the touch and bruised already, but Beomgyu’s hard teeth reignite the pain ten times over as he roughly rubs your clit. You cry out, thighs squeezing his hand as you come again, feeling over sensitive already. 

He positions himself at your entrance, looking up to you for confirmation. Your chest is heaving as you pant, still woozy from your orgasm, but you know you won’t be wholly satisfied until you feel him completely. This time, you need him in a way you have never had him. You nod, and he reaches up to clasp your hand above your head, rough fingers pinning you to the wooden floor.

He enters you in one fluid motion, so smooth you don’t register it until he’s fully sheathed inside and the two of you let out a simultaneous deep groan. 

“Does he fuck you as good as I do?” Beomgyu can’t help but spit out between moans, slamming his hips into yours so roughly that the slap of skin on skin echoes around the empty car. 

You’re getting annoyed at how you keep comparing Beomgyu to Yeonjun, so when his thrusts differ from your fiancé’s too, you completely block the thought of your loving partner out of your head. You forget that he’s asleep in your childhood bedroom, cuddling with your favorite stuffed animal, surrounded by the smell of you. You forget that it’s too late to ever go back, to ever regain what has been broken. And you forget that you ever hated Beomgyu, because it was hard to hate him when your mind was so clouded by lust you couldn’t think of anyone else. 

The last thing you think about before you fall asleep in the early hours of the morning with another man’s cum leaking out of your sore cunt, is how angelic Beomgyu’s face looked when he filled you up. It made you want to wrap your legs around his narrow waist and let him fuck it into you, so that he would never be apart from you again. You never wanted to see another face ever again, after you saw his delicate features scrunched up in pleasure. 

You’re so exhausted by your sneaking around, so sore from the splinters and scrapes, that you curl up right next to Yeonjun without showering off your night. 

It’s a pity, that when Yeonjun wakes, long before you do, he doesn’t suspect a thing when he sees a twig clinging to the back of your shirt, or fresh mud on an old pair of your shoes. He trusts you, so wholeheartedly, that he pressed kisses on top of your exposed hickies—though not without noticing that they looked a lot darker than they did the last time he saw them. 

—

“Excuse us, ma’am!” Two children—no older than ten and twelve—squeeze past you in the crowded aisle, the younger one brushing against a box of uncooked pasta and knocking it to the ground. Without a glance backwards, they speed off towards a tired looking couple with a shopping cart full of sugary cereal and cheap plastic toys. It’s then that you register the name that one of the kids called you, and you’re disgruntled—do you really look that old? You catch a glimpse of yourself on the reflective surface of a colorful advertisement standee, and frown at your appearance, feeling older and more out of place than ever. 

You toss a box of uncooked pasta into your cart and go forth, braving the chilly aisles of the grocery store without your jacket, which you stupidly left in the car, thinking that you’d be fine. You make a mental note to never trust the temperature again. 

As you’re studying the nearly identical packages of grapes, a pale hand reaches for the same bag you were going for. The both of you spring back, surprised, and you lock eyes with Karina. 

“Oh!” you exclaim. You try to make yourself say hello, but there’s already been an awkward silence after your surprised outburst. 

She smiles, unaffected, and says, “Hello, (Y/N). How have you been?” 

Damn her perfect ability to navigate a conversation. 

“Hey, Karina!” you say, crossing your arms to try and mimic a comfortable position. “I’ve been good! Just busy, moving and stuff, you know. What about you?” 

She laughs, the same delicate laugh that makes your stomach jump with excitement, before replying. “I’m good too! Trying to soak up the last few weeks of summer, then everything starts up again. This place really revolves around the kids, you know? When school starts again, it feels like the whole town just wakes up after a long sticky summer nap.” She pauses. “Oh, I’m rambling.” A little embarrassed even though you’re clearly not offended, she places a delicate hand over her chest. A pretty silver ring sparkles on her fourth finger.

You shake your head, assuring her that it’s fine, that she’s right anyways, but you’re staring at her ring the whole time. She notices, gaze following yours and quickly flickering down to her hand, and smiles broadly. “Oh! Did I tell you last time? I’m married now!” she exclaims. Her cheeks are pink, flushed with excitement. Clearly, she was very happy in her relationship, eager to talk about it. The very thought of your own relationship now made a rock appear in your stomach—a heavy, dark, massive boulder that weighed you down and made you sick. 

“Congratulations!” you say, and you both share a little moment right there in the fruit and vegetable aisle—it makes you miss your girl friends from back home, and you again wonder if it would have been possible to be friends with Karina way back when. If that would have made things different. Better, even. 

“Thank you, thank you.” She looks down, trying to hide her wide smile, and brushes a long lock of her dark hair behind her ear. “He’s the best.” 

“That’s sweet, I’m really happy for you,” you say, and you find that you actually really mean it. You exchange goodbyes as the conversation naturally trails off, and head off in opposite directions—both of you carrying a bag of grapes, neither one being the initial same choice. 

As soon as you get into the car and place your hands on the steering wheel, your phone starts ringing, and you groan and reach over to fumble around in your purse for the vibrating device. 

“Hello?” you ask, answering the call, which you now see is from Yeonjun. You feel the rock in your stomach press down harder on the sensitive walls of your stomach lining, and you wince. 

“Hey, babe,” he coos, “are you on your way back yet?” 

“Yeah, just finished grocery shopping,” you say honestly, propping your purse back up. You work on tossing the mess back into the open mouth of the bag; you ended up spilling an expired container of Tic-Tacs all over the passenger seat when you tried to feel around for your phone. 

“Good! I was thinking that maybe we could go on a drive tonight?” 

You freeze up, a handful of fruit flavored mints falling from your hand. “Why?” you ask carefully. 

“No reason, I just… I guess I just miss spending time with you alone,” he confesses. “As much as I love your parents, and this place, it’s not the same. I’m excited for us to go back home, and for things to go back to normal.” 

Your heart aches at the melancholy, tired voice on the other end of the line. “We leave soon, babe,” you assure him, “we’re almost done here.” 

“I know, I know—I’m sorry, I’m complaining. This is a lot for you, I shouldn’t be wrapped up in my own feelings.” 

“No, no! I understand, I do, and I miss you too. Look, the drive sounds good. I’ll be back soon, and as soon as I finish putting the groceries away we can leave. Does that sound okay?” Your grip on the phone tightens, and you feel guilty. If not for the complete betrayal, then because you’d genuinely been neglecting him since you got home too. 

“Yes, it does.” He sounds content, relieved even, and you smile to yourself as you say goodbye and hang up. You place your hands back on the steering wheel, and take a deep breath as you head home, away from Mr. Kim’s grocery store—which is now owned by his son. Another small change, another thing that makes you feel like you never knew this town in the first place. 

Outside, the sun is setting. Orange and pink bleed through your cracked windows, painting warm stripes across your body. The air is warm and thick, almost soupy from the humidity, but it feels familiar and comforting. 

Yeonjun is baking again when you return, the same flowered apron that’s too short on his lanky frame tied in a messy pink bow at his back. He’s pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven when you push the door open, hands full of groceries. 

“Welcome back!” he exclaims, quickly putting down the cookies to rush to your aid. Gratefully, you hand off a few bags. Yeonjun bustles around the vanilla scented kitchen, putting things away quickly as you dust off your hands and sneak a cookie from the tray. Sweetness floods across your tongue as you bite into one. It’s still a little too warm, the center burning your tongue a tad and the rest of the treat falling apart in your hands. “They’re not cooled yet!” he scolds, finally noticing your struggle. 

“Couldn’t help it, they looked too good,” you say around a mouthful of cookie, and he rolls his eyes before walking over and planting a peck on your messy lips. 

“I’ll finish up here, you do what you need to do,” he says, kneeling down to sift through the remaining few bags. He shoos you away as you cram the rest of the cookie into your mouth, giggling. 

Really, you don’t need to go off and do anything. You already had everything in your purse. So all you did was check your reflection quickly before walking back into the kitchen, where Yeonjun has finished putting the groceries away and is hanging up the beloved frilly apron. 

“Ready?” he asks. 

“Sure am.” 

He grins, wraps an arm around your shoulders like he always does, and presses a kiss to your temple. The two of you don’t bother to close the windows or lock the door, because it’s a small town where everyone knows everyone. It’s still a bit unnerving for Yeonjun, who has always lived in the city. He was brought up sternly, always told by his parents that if he ever left a door unlocked or a window open, someone evil would surely get in. And in the city, that’s not too far of an assumption. That was probably Yeonjun’s least favorite part about you—if he had to choose. Though you were much better about it now, for the longest time he saw you as a little country mouse lost in a big city. You would leave the door of your dorm room open all day after leaving for class. You would often leave the windows unlocked overnight. One warm autumn evening while going out for dinner with some friends, you left your window completely open and Yeonjun was the one that found the intruder under your bed. To be fair, the intruder was a rather chunky squirrel who didn’t have the gymnastic ability to hurl himself back up onto the window ledge, but still. You remember all of this fondly, as you watch Yeonjun double check that the front door is closed in the rear view mirrors before pulling away from your house. 

The sun seemed to be taking its sweet time, wanting to give a magnificent show to anyone who spared the time to watch. You stare down at the small clouds of reddish dirt being spit up by the wheels of your car, then refocus your attention on the splendid landscape before you. The warmth of the setting sunlight bled golden everywhere, turning the green grass a springy hazy shade and shining rays of sparkles onto any moving creature. A pair of songbirds flew by quickly, twittering and warbling a good night song as golden light danced across their waxy feathers. You squint at the tree that the birds have landed in, and you gasp as you recognize it. “Jun,” you plead, “can we stop by the blackberry bushes? It’s just the right time to pick them.” 

“Blackberry bushes?” Yeonjun exclaims, “you don't have to tell me twice.” 

“You sound like my dad when you say stuff like that,” you groan as he pulls off to the side of the road. 

“I am honored. He is a fine gentleman,” Yeonjun insists goofily, watching you with adoring eyes as you leap out of the car and into the meadow. 

“It’s just past this tree,” you claim, pointing to the very same tree that the two birds landed in earlier. “I used to come here with—I used to come here all the time,” you said, stumbling over your words. Your mouth feels dirty, almost saying Beomgyu’s name aloud, and in front of Yeonjun too. 

If Yeonjun notices, he doesn’t say anything about it. He lets you lead him past the tree with the gnarled bark and further into a thicket of younger trees. Your grasp on his hand tightens as you spot the patch of bushes, their branches heavy with fruit. You bound ahead, letting go of his hand and plucking a few large berries, the dark juices staining your fingertips. Yeonjun walks up beside you, pulling a large handkerchief out of his pocket and holding it out to you. You pile on blackberries immediately, knowing that was why he was offering it. 

“Your lips are purple,” Yeonjun says accusingly, using his free hand to point at your face. You feel your cheeks heat up slightly; you’re embarrassed for acting so juvenile and stuffing your face with blackberries. 

“And yours aren’t,” you say in the same tone. His eyes flicker from your lips then back to your eyes. You feel your heartbeat speed up as he gently sets the handkerchief of berries down on the soft grass before scooping you into his arms and pressing his lips to yours. 

“So sweet,” he murmurs against your purple lips jokingly. 

“I told you it was blackberry season,” you retort, giggling as you feel him squeeze your hips.

You keep the handkerchief of blackberries in your lap for the rest of the ride, crying out when Yeonjun would reach over and slap your fingers away as you tried to sneak another berry into your mouth. “I want to use those in some scones!” he insisted playfully.

The lightheartedness of the banter and the gorgeous golden light painting your hometown in nostalgia was an escape. It was almost like you were back home with Yeonjun in your apartment, looking back on fond memories you shared together. The setting outside your window looked fake because of the dreamy haze, and you wished you could freeze in this perfect moment with the perfect man. Everything in the snapshot would be perfect; it wouldn’t capture the thoughts that plagued your mind as soon as you stepped out of the car and looked up at your childhood home. Guilt, pain, and hurt bloomed in your chest as Yeonjun parked the car and took you by the waist, so that the two of you could walk back inside together. You masked the guilt of another man’s touch behind a smile, but it didn’t last long. As soon as you looked up, your blood ran cold. An ambulance was parked right in front of your house, and the front door had been thrown wide open. 

Yeonjun grabs your hand as you both run up the front stairs and into the house. You see your father sitting on the floor of the kitchen, an oxygen mask covering his lower face. Your mother sits a small distance away from him, her face gray and her lips pressed into a thin line. An EMT pats your father on the shoulder before mumbling something to your mother and nodding at you and Yeonjun on his way out. The ambulance pulls away, luckily without a patient inside. 

“What was that?” you blurt out, running up to your father, who is having trouble standing up on his own. His face looks gray too. 

Your parents exchange worried looks before they look back at you. “Sweetheart,” your mother coaxes, “remember when your father fell off that ladder a few months ago?” 

“Yes, but you told me everything was okay. Isn’t it?” you ask in a small voice that sounds childish, naive, and stupid—even to you. You feel Yeonjun stiffen beside you, and you turn to look at him. He’s always been bad at hiding things, so you immediately know. “You knew this whole time,” you say to Yeonjun, pulling away from him. 

“Doll,” he says pleadingly, his eyebrows furrowed with pity and regret. 

“We didn’t want to upset you,” your mother clarified, “it happened right before you and Yeonjun got engaged, and we didn’t want to spoil anything.” 

“That wouldn’t have spoiled it!” you say shrilly. “I would have come to help you and Dad if I knew!” 

“We knew you would, that’s why we didn’t tell you. It took so much planning and time and effort for Yeonjun to plan things out for the proposal and we didn’t want to ruin the mood before or after, and by then months had already passed…” your mother trailed off. 

“I’m your daughter, I’m supposed to help you when things like that go wrong,” you say, feeling your eyes starting to well up with tears, though you’re not completely sure why. “And why does Yeonjun know, and I don’t? It would have been his planning that got ruined, not mine.” 

“It was an accident,” your father says abruptly, and you see that he’s been able to stand up on his own. He leans against the kitchen table heavily. “Your mother accidentally ordered my medication to your address and Yeonjun was the one that found it.” 

“Autumn Oaks will be good for them,” Yeonjun pipes up, trying to help. “They’ll get all the help they need there.” 

Your eyes almost bulge out of your skull. “Autumn Oaks? The assisted living facility in town?” you ask. You pick your brain for the moment you first heard the name, and then you get it—Karina. “Even Karina knew before I did?” you fret. 

“Karina? Nurse Yoo?” your dad asks. 

“You know her?” 

“She works there. She’s actually the one that showed us around. Do you know her?” your mother asks. She seems very nervous now, clearly due to your building emotions. 

“I went to school with her,” you mumbled. Your head absolutely aches, and you stare out the front door, still hanging wide open, into the dark night that had crept up on the four of you since you got home. “I need to go for a walk,” you say. Your parents again exchange looks. “I’m not mad,” you snap, “I just need a minute to process everything.” 

You feel Yeonjun start to follow you timidly, but you look back at him with narrowed eyes. “Alone,” you emphasize, and he shrinks back and lets you go. 

Luckily, you had the sense to hang onto your purse the entire time, and you fumble through it for your cigarettes and a lighter. You shove one into your mouth and light it, tossing the box and the lighter back inside the mess of your bag. You don’t know where you’re walking, but the night is warm and muggy and you can feel insects swarming. You want to go back home and take a long hot shower, especially as you feel a bead of sweat slip down your back, but you don’t want to face everyone again. You feel like an idiot for acting like an emotional child, and you don’t know why you have been ever since you got back to your hometown. It was like you were reverting back to the person you were the last time you stayed that long. As if simply breathing the air and drinking the water were enough to take away ten years. 

You stop walking naturally in front of a house. A large, old tree stands strong in the front yard, casting a large black shadow over the whole space. Though it’s been repainted a new color—a light beige, instead of the misty blue it once was—it still feels like your second home. You’re very sure that Beomgyu doesn’t live here any more, mostly because he said he hated bland paint colors and you simply couldn’t picture the Choi Beomgyu living in a beige house of all places. But also because your parents had told you that his parents moved out years ago and retired somewhere sunny and warm, leaving the family business to Beomgyu, who was more than willing to take over it by then. They had no news about where Beomgyu had moved to. 

You feel like a freak, just standing outside someone’s house like a stalker, so you turn on your heel and start to walk away, when someone says, “hey,” in a low voice. 

The front door of the blue-turned-beige house opens, and Beomgyu stands there in pajama pants and a thin white t-shirt. “Why the fuck are you here?” he says, mimicking the voice you used when he appeared on your roof. 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m joking. Come inside already. Aren’t the mosquitos pissing you off?” He steps aside and opens the door wider, motioning for you to come inside. 

So you do. 

You’re not sure what you’re expecting when you step inside. Maybe, you expected it to look exactly how it did the last time you saw it, with his parents’ furniture and decorations and family pictures on the walls. There’s a few hints of the old decor as you look around and focus on a few minor details, but for the most part it looks completely different. New furniture, more modern and young, paintings on the wall that definitely weren’t there before. There’s even an entire wall missing, the one that separated the kitchen and the front room entirely. Something about an open concept, you think solemnly, recalling an episode of HGTV you watched when you were too drunk to get up and get the remote to change the channel. 

“It looks different in here,” you say bluntly. 

“Well, my parents don’t live here any more, do they?” he asks cockily. “Come on, let’s go up to the bedroom. The old house still doesn’t have AC, but my bedroom has a really good fan.” 

The stairs creak the same way they did when you ran down them sobbing the last time you were there. It’s bittersweet, and you hold yourself back from rolling your eyes at your old dramatic self. 

Beomgyu’s right about the fan, at least. The bedroom is much cooler than the rest of the house, and it’s cast in a cold bright light from the flatscreen TV mounted on his wall, facing the foot of his bed. “Nice place,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Did you get an interior designer or something to help you with all this?” 

“Or something,” he says, shrugging. He gets in bed too, patting the spot beside him once he got comfortable. You inch forward, a bit awkwardly. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel like a middle school girl sitting next to her crush at the movies or something equally as corny and butterfly-inducing. 

Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you and pull you in closer, so that your legs are draped over his and his hand rests on your waist. His big hand starts to slip under your shirt, toying with the hem and teasing you. He already knows why you came to him; he can see that you’re upset. He rightfully assumes that Yeonjun is a part of the reason, and he knows that you want him to take his place, even if it’s just for a night. 

Boldly, you take his hand that’s teasing you and place it firmly over your breast. Beomgyu stops pretending to watch whatever is playing on his TV and looks at you, a crooked smirk on his face. “That’s why you’re here,” he says, wanting a verbal confirmation. 

“‘Course it is. No one knows how to comfort me better than you do.” 

“Not even Yeonjun?” Beomgyu can’t help but ask, venom lacing his words. He can’t hide his jealousy, even when he thinks he can. It always comes spilling forth from his lips like sick word vomit. 

“Not even Yeonjun,” you whisper as he closes the distance between your lips, unsure if you’re lying or not. 

It’s not as frantic this time, because you know you have time. No one is expecting you home anytime soon, and Beomgyu doesn’t seem to have anything going on either. It’s a sudden but welcome change; the soft sheets instead of the splintering wood of the train car, the cool controlled breeze instead of the sweltering mugginess, the silence of closed walls instead of the risk of open air. 

You let Beomgyu take off your shirt and shorts, and you settle between his legs as he whips off his own top. You pull down his pajama pants and boxers in one fluid move, taking his cock in your hand and suckling on the head. The saltiness of his precum coats your tongue as you swallow it down, your nose pressing against his crotch as his hand gently presses on your head, wordlessly begging you to take it all. It’s better than you imagined, and you’d imagined it many times. 

His breathing grows ragged as you start jerking him off, his dick slippery with your saliva, and you take one of his balls into your mouth. His eyes roll back in his head as you do so, and he groans loudly. “I knew you’d be good at this,” he pants as you take his length back into your mouth. 

You make a noise of confusion, the vibrations making him whimper. 

“I just wanted you so bad,” he babbles, “I knew—I knew no matter what, I’d never forget—” His eyes squeeze shut as he cums, and you hollow your cheeks and swallow, eliciting a high-pitched squeak from him due to the slight overstimulation. Shaking, he opens his eyes to look down at you, and you sit back up obediently, using a finger to push a small pearly rivulet of cum into your mouth; it had been dripping down your chin. 

“You’d never forget?” you asked, crawling up to him on all fours. Beomgyu feels his cock jump again as he stares at you taking off your underclothes, and he grips your hips tightly, squeezing the flesh there and exhaling deeply. 

“I won’t,” he says breathily, as if he’s making a promise to you, “I won't ever forget.” 

You press your forehead to his, feeling his sweaty bangs stick to your skin. The two of you stay like that for just a moment as his heavy breathing slows, and then he slowly reaches up to caress your cheek and pull you in for a kiss. He shifts beneath you, his muscles flexing as he lifts you up and tosses you down onto the soft mattress so that he’s the one on top now. 

“I was having fun up there,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist. You can feel his dick, half-hard, nudge against your clit. 

“I think you’ll have fun down here too,” he says with a wink, as he presses sloppy kisses down your neck. Your toes curl as his warm breath ghosts over your nipple; he’s making his way down your body, making sure to worship every inch of your skin with his slick lips. He can’t help but flick your nub with his tongue, watching your reaction as you flinch at the unexpected contact. He envelopes your nipple and the surrounding area into his mouth, suckling hard and making your toes curl with pleasure as he grinds against you simultaneously. His teeth graze against your skin, eliciting a low moan that erupts from deep inside, so animalistic you hardly recognize yourself. You realize that with Beomgyu, unfamiliar parts of you emerge and take charge—both parts that remind you of your youth, as well as parts that you’d never met before, or even knew existed at all. 

A string of saliva, glistening in the faint bluish light, connects his lips and your breast for just a second before it breaks. He looks up at you with big doll eyes and smirks, a juxtaposition of innocence and naughtiness, before mouthing the valley between your breasts and kissing his way down to your navel, then between your legs. Beomgyu’s words echo in your mind as you flush with slight embarrassment, realizing he’s staring straight at your sopping cunt with great interest. The fact that you’d both been taking your time this time around made you much more aware that he was perceiving you just as much as you were perceiving him, and that thought was making you just a bit anxious. 

After all these years, he can still read you like a book. He feels your thighs tense up as he gently slides a calloused finger through your slick, and though he thinks your pussy might be the prettiest one he’s ever seen, he stops, and makes eye contact with you. Your brow is slightly furrowed, your lips pressed together—a sure sign that you’re worried about something. “Everything okay?” he asks, wiping his finger on his sheets. “You look like you’re thinking long and hard about something.” 

“More like I’m thinking about something that’s long and hard.” You catch his eye for a split second before you start to grin and he bursts out laughing. 

“You had me there,” he admits, settling back between your legs. “I thought you were having your reservations.” 

“What, you thought I wouldn’t want to double dip or something?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head, trying to suppress a smile. “I’m trying to go down on you and be all sexy, and you’re making jokes that align with the humor of an immature thirteen year old boy.” 

“Sorry, I do that when I’m nervous.” 

“Don’t be. It’s just me.” You lock eyes with him, but this time it sends a real chill down your spine. Different from the chills that you got when you saw him at the reunion and he handed you your keys. It was so much more than just those five words that he spoke aloud—in that phrase, he cemented the fact that you two have history, and that there is so much meaning in the actions that you’re committing together. It’s just Beomgyu—but how can he be “just” Beomgyu when your feelings about him have been the exact opposite forever? It’s never been simple. He’s never been “just” Beomgyu. 

Your clouded mind is suddenly cleared when you feel his lips connect to your clit and he starts suckling roughly, similarly to how he was attached to your nipple earlier. You can feel his teeth biting at your cunt, teasing it with little flashes of pain that make your back arch and your thighs start to close in on his face. He holds your legs apart, devouring you like he’ll never have the pleasure of tasting you again, and knowing that that could be the reality. You feel a mixture of his spit and your juices running down your inner thighs and soaking the sheets beneath you, but you hardly care. You want to leave a mark in his bed, in his house—in that moment, you want it to be known that you were there. 

You finish as he plunges his thick fingers into you and curls them upwards just right, and your moan catches in your throat. You almost choke on it, a few stuttering gasps being the only thing that escape your lips as you come down from your high. 

Before you can fully reorient yourself, Beomgyu’s sliding his cock against your slippery pussy, whining like a bitch. He’s too embarrassed to ask if he can fuck you, but you know he wants to. You want it too, but unlike him you’re not afraid to say it. “Please,” you whisper, just like you did in the woods, “please.” 

Without another word, he’s pushing into you, which is quite easy given how much lubricant there is. He grips the headboard of his bed, his knuckles turning pale from the effort, as he waits for you to tell him to go on. You reach for him and he listens immediately, almost giddy as you pull him close. You want to feel his sweat on your skin, have his spit in your mouth, feel his stuttered breaths as he gets close. 

He slips a pillow under your hips before readjusting himself, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable, before he starts drilling his hips into you. 

The way he fucks reminds you a bit of your hookups in college, before you got with Yeonjun. The desperation, a bit of inexperience, and the quick but deep thrusts are all too reminiscent—but in a good way. It’s different, than the way that you’d been fucked by Yeonjun all these years, and you realize that you’ve missed it. The carnal urge to just fuck like animals, without caring about staining the sheets or worrying about someone hearing you. 

You don’t realize just how far you’ve shifted until your head is hanging over the side of his bed, and your eyes are level with his nightstand. You can feel him getting close already—which you’re not surprised by, given how long he’s been waiting for it—and you’re getting close yourself until you lock eyes with a framed picture sitting beside his lamp. He groans loudly as he slams his hips into yours one more time, and you can’t help but gasp as you feel him filling you up, but your eyes are focused on the picture. It’s upside down, because of the angle you’re at, but it’s pretty obvious what it is. You don’t need to be right-side-up to know that it’s a wedding photo. And not just any wedding photo either—it’s a picture of Beomgyu and Karina. 

It hits you like a ton of bricks. You’re the other woman, just as he’s the other man. You try to sit up, forgetting that he’s still hovering above you and trying to recover from having two orgasms quite close together, and smack your forehead into his. 

“Ow!” he exclaims, pulling out of you and sitting back. 

“You’re married!” you blurt out, scrambling away from him. His gaze drops to the photograph on his nightstand, and he wrinkles his nose guiltily. 

“Well—yeah… But you’re engaged.” This time, it’s your gaze that drops—and you look down at the diamond ring on your finger. There’s a deep, gnawing pain that’s arising in your stomach, and you know what it is immediately. Guilt, so thick and dark you swear anyone who looks at you could see it seeping from your very pores, is tearing you apart. You feel yourself tearing up, which is somewhat ridiculous because you’d known this whole time that you were cheating. You weren’t an idiot and you weren’t manipulated either—you were a completely conscious and self-aware asshole that chose to cheat on her fiancé with her first love. And so was he. 

You furiously wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand and stand up, crossing your arms over your chest as you scan the room for your clothes. You go around and pick up your garments one by one and put them on, and Beomgyu watches you solemnly. Neither of you say anything until you’re fully dressed and he’s at least pulled on his boxers and pants. You stand there at the foot of his—no, his and Karina’s king-sized bed, and glare at him. It’s hypocritical to be mad at him for cheating when you’ve been doing the exact same thing, but for some reason that’s how your brain is functioning. 

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” you asked, staring at the floor. You don’t know if you’ll cry or fall for him harder if you look into his eyes again. You fear that it might be both. 

“I don’t know. It just never came up,” he says lamely. You narrow your eyes at his half-assed reply. 

“I helped you cheat on her.” 

“So what? I’ve been helping you cheat on Yeonjun. How’s this any worse than that? In the end we’re both just assholes.”

“Because I know Karina! She was the closest thing I had to a girl friend here in town!” you exclaim, “It's not like you know Yeonjun—you don’t care about hurting him. I care about hurting Karina!” 

“But you don’t care about hurting your own fiancé?” Beomgyu rubs the back of his neck, confused, and stares at the floor. “I don’t get you.” 

“That’s not the point,” you mutter, “but it doesn’t matter. Whatever. It’s already done, and like you said, we’re both the assholes in the end.” You can feel his cum leaking out of your cunt and pooling in your underwear. You want to go home and shower, without anyone seeing you or talking to you. You briskly walk over to his bathroom while rummaging in your purse for something to touch up your disheveled appearance. 

You’re wiping at the makeup that’s started to slide off your eyes with a dry makeup wipe you found at the bottom of your purse when Beomgyu appears behind you in the mirror. He’s still shirtless, and somehow still beautiful in the shitty bathroom lighting. You stop your futile attempts to fix your appearance and stare at his reflection with weary eyes. He wraps his arms around you and presses a long kiss to the top of your head as he inhales your scent and takes it all in, knowing that you won’t return. You let him. 

“I just got you back,” he mumbles, “and now you’re leaving again.” 

“I wasn’t ever planning on staying. I wasn’t even planning on seeing you again,” you say firmly, though it’s obvious when your voice shakes that you hardly believe your own words. 

“But you did,” he whispers. “Doesn’t that mean something? Doesn’t—doesn’t the fact that you’re standing here in my house, in my shirt, with my cum leaking out of you, mean something?” 

You look down. You are, in fact, wearing his shirt. Somehow you must have pulled it on instead of your own. Even worse, you recognize it as an old band t-shirt that he used to wear in high school. You shake your head and pull it off, throwing it aside as you walk back to his bedroom and find your own shirt crumpled in a mess on his floor. 

Looking wounded, Beomgyu appears in the doorway, clutching his abandoned shirt. “Are you really leaving?”

“Well, I don’t know when Karina will be back but I don’t want her to see me sleeping on her side of the bed,” you say coldly, “and I have a fiancé I need to get back to.” 

“A fiancé who doesn’t know his future wife is a dirty cheater,” Beomgyu says, glaring at you. You see tears in his eyes, the hurt evident on his face. 

“Don’t start that shit with me,” you snap. “And don’t contact me ever again.” 

“I did a pretty good job avoiding you for ten years. What’s another ten, twenty, thirty more?” Beomgyu spits back, but his tears start to spill out and he turns away, not knowing you already saw them. 

But you don’t care. You don’t want to care. So you gather your things and you go, slamming his front door so hard that the stained glass wind chimes hanging on his front porch fall and shatter on the wooden floor. You don’t even give the mess a second glance as you stomp down the stairs and down the path home. 

The lights are all off, except for one. Your bedroom light is on, and you know that Yeonjun must have left it on. Whether he’s awake or not, he was waiting for you, and that makes the guilt sink into your stomach even further. You didn’t know it was possible to feel even worse than you did while you were laying in Beomgyu’s bed. 

As quiet as possible, you unlock the front door and close it behind you, re-locking it and wincing as the heavy iron lock clicks into place. You creep up the stairs and peek around the corner, sighing with relief when you realize that your bedroom door is closed. You’re allowed to slip into the bathroom and wash yourself of all the evidence of Beomgyu before being confronted by anyone. Usually, you’re plagued with thoughts in the shower—whether that’s stress about work or dinner plans for the night, your mind is always running as you shampoo your hair. Tonight, it’s the opposite. You feel blank and numb as you rinse yourself and step out of the tub, toweling yourself dry before tiptoeing down the hallway and letting yourself into your bedroom. 

Yeonjun is wedged against the wall in your childhood bedroom, leaving space for you in your little twin bed. You’re realizing just now how bare the room looks—everything is gone except for the bed and the little nightstand, where Yeonjun’s glasses and your cup of water live every night. He’s scrolling on his phone but he looks up immediately when he hears the door, and his face lights up when he realizes it’s you. “Welcome back,” he says carefully, not wanting to breach the subject unless you propose it. 

You leap into his arms, feeling the guilt twisting your stomach into knots as he presses warm kisses to your clean skin. “I went to a friend’s house,” you clarify, “and we just smoked and sat there for a while. I just needed to get away for a minute.” 

“Okay,” Yeonjun says, rubbing your arms comfortingly, “thank you for telling me.” 

“It was an acquaintance from high school. Her name is Minjeong.” 

Though he didn’t ask who the friend was, you can see relief flood across his face as he realizes it wasn’t Beomgyu—or even another guy. “I’m glad that you feel better now,” he says, pressing a kiss to your naked collarbone. You slide off his lap and get dressed, tossing the towel onto the floor. 

“Come to bed,” he coaxes, “it’s nice and cozy.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” you reply, sidling in next to him. As soon as you lay down, he wraps an arm around you and kisses your cheek. “I love you,” you say, desperate for him to say it back, even though you know he will—from his knowledge, he has no reason to doubt you at all. 

“I love you too doll,” he mumbles sleepily, and then he’s gone. Asleep, dead to the world, no nasty thoughts plaguing his mind. 

Unlike Yeonjun, you lay there awake for hours, unable to fall asleep for a multitude of reasons. Even worse, you know that most of these reasons are your own fault, and that guilt is eating you alive. Every single thought that you had managed to avoid in the shower was haunting you now, forcing your eyelids to stay open and keeping your heartbeat racing. 

—

On the last morning that you will ever spend in your childhood home, you are awakened in the early hours of the morning by a massive moving truck trying to parallel park right beside your driveway. Yeonjun is already stirring, both from the noise outside as well as your movements, and he blinks hard as his eyes adjust to the bleary light. It’s so early that the sun hasn’t fully risen yet, and you can see from your window that the late summer has given birth to a smattering of dewdrops stricken across the greenery, giving it a haunting, blurred look. The palest of sunlight spreads across the land, a subtle “good morning” before the dry heat that’s sure to come once the quiet early morning hours wither away. Your parents are shuffling about downstairs, pushing all of the boxes and furniture into the front room so that the movers can have easy access and you can all hopefully be out by the designated time. The faint smell of dark roast coffee reaches your nose, and it reminds you of the youthful years you spent here, and how you got so used to that smell of coffee in the morning. When did you forget about it? When did you adopt a new norm? 

Yeonjun presses a sleepy kiss to your cheek before climbing over you and claiming the bathroom first, and you hear the shower turn on. He’s always been a morning person, whereas you prefer to bathe during the night. It works out well in your apartment, where you only have one bathroom. You glance down at your phone, which has coincidentally given you an update on a few places the two of you had been looking to move. The crowded apartment, though now nostalgic and homey, is simply too small now. You’ve outgrown it. 

You busy yourself with cleaning up a few stray clothing items scattered across the hardwood floor, your bare feet making small pattering sounds as you walk about. It’s hard to sort between your clothes and Yeonjun’s clothes—you tend to share a lot of garments, and you have a similar taste. 

As soon as you zip up your own suitcase and sit down with a huff, Yeonjun strolls back into the room, a towel clinging to his waist and another slung around his neck. He uses one end to rub at his dripping locks, and you jump up to escape to the bathroom, suddenly very aware of where you were last night, as well as the fact that you’re unsure how to further explain yourself if anyone asks. “I’ll be down in a few,” you say to him, “I’ll help bring down our suitcases and everything.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it,” he says, shaking his head. “Take your time. Your parents have coffee on the table too if you need some.” 

“When did you have time to go and say good morning to them?” you exclaim, your voice echoing down the empty hallway. 

“I didn’t! I just know!” he yells back, and that makes your skin prickle. The ease of Yeonjun becoming a part of your family—it makes you feel that guilt even more. How could you take him away from your parents now? How could you take your parents from him? 

Once you’re done washing the sleep away from yourself, you get dressed and frown at the room that’s now completely empty. You’d heard people coming up and down the steps, but you didn’t think they’d touch your room. Now, even the bed that you’d just slept in was gone. For a moment, you stand there in your bedroom alone. Though, you suppose you can’t even really call it that any more—you don’t possess it. How long has it been since it was really yours anyways? A decade? More? Less? You try to hold your emotions back, because it’s just a house, but it’s to no avail. You have to return to the bathroom and wipe your tears carefully with your sleeve while staring in the mirror and realizing just how much your reflection has changed. 

“Are you sure? We can stay and help, it’s no problem,” Yeonjun’s voice echoes up the stairs. You sidle into the kitchen and stand in the doorway, looking at your parents and your fiancé. They’re standing across from each other in the kitchen, all holding steaming mugs of coffee. 

“Oh, don’t worry about us. We don’t want you to miss your flight,” your mother insists, “the movers said they could help us just fine. They’ve been moving a lot of folks into Autumn Oaks lately.” 

Your chest clenches a bit at the thought of your parents in assisted living—were they really that old already? They seem perfectly capable, aside from the incident with your father. You suppose that’s reason enough to consider assisted living. 

“Okay, but call immediately if you need anything,” Yeonjun says warily, placing his empty mug down on the kitchen counter. “I’m going to call a car.” 

He ruffles your hair when he notices you standing in the doorway, and then walks out. This leaves you with your parents, the both of them standing there and smiling at you. You know it’s because of Yeonjun. You know they wholeheartedly think you’re safe with him, and that he’s your forever. Who are you to say he isn’t? 

“We really can stay and help you guys,” you offer again, but your father shakes his head. 

“And we told you we can handle it,” he says softly, “you have a flight to catch.” 

Your shoulders sag as you sigh. Perhaps, you weren’t only wanting to stay for your parents. You don’t want to let go of the house, of your aging parents, of Beomgyu. You don’t want to let go of your hometown, even though you hate it so much. And even though Autumn Oaks was just a drive away, hardly even separate from your hometown, it still felt like the end of an era, a disconnect, a severing of the last attachment you had to your childhood and everything that came with it. You got your closure, and that was what you wanted—so why did it feel wrong? For the first time in so many years, you feel like you’ve made bad decisions that you cannot come back from. 

“Okay,” you say. “It was really nice seeing you. And I guess—to see the house one last time.” You will your emotions to stay under control. “I’m going to miss you.” 

“We always miss you too,” your mother says, pulling you into a hug. “But we’ll see you come Christmas, won’t we? Maybe we can come and visit you and Yeonjun in the city this year.” 

“That would be really nice, Mom,” you whisper as she lets go. She stands back, still holding onto your arms, and looks at you. 

“You’ve grown so much. We’re so proud of you,” your dad says, and it’s like he’s reading your mother’s mind as a tear trickles down her face. The three of you briefly embrace, a final wordless reminder of every memory that you had together in that house, and then you blink and it’s all gone. 

Yeonjun comes for you when the car pulls up outside, and before you know it you’re staring out the airplane window, looking at all the miniature houses down below. You’re finally going back home, but you know you left a piece of yourself in your hometown, and you’ll never see her again. 

Maybe that’s for the better. 

EPILOGUE. 

Yoo Jimin, known most commonly by her nickname Karina, is fucking exhausted. 

It’s the first snow of the year, she’s worked two double night shifts in one week, and she’s trying her damn best to get the household ready for the holiday season. She’s a woman who knows what she wants, and though this means she takes charge and gets shit done, it also means she burns out. Fast. And frequently. 

Her vision is slightly blurry on her drive home from Autumn Oaks, where she’d been busy tending to two new residents. They had made sure to try and shoo her away, claiming that they were just fine on their own and getting settled in, but it was her job to check in on them every now and then. She groans aloud in her car, thinking about how much she wanted to sink into a hot bath and just be alone for a while. 

The windshield wipers obediently push the fat snowflakes gathering on the glass away and out of sight as she pulls into her driveway. At least it looks cozy from the outside, as she’d made sure to tell her husband to put up the Christmas lights outside. He did, and they were twinkling warmly at her as she stepped out of the car. 

She knows that Beomgyu is sleeping. He sleeps a lot, and not just because she tends to work nights and he always works days, but because he’s been avoiding her. 

It was a natural conclusion that she came to, and that would be just fine with her because she knows that marriage isn’t some perfect fairytale, but there’s something that’s been nagging at her for months now. Beomgyu had been acting normal until the end of summer, after the reunion. It was quite popular amongst the gossipy folks, mostly because of a certain quiet individual who had become vastly successful in her market after leaving town about ten years ago. She was by no means a celebrity, but her success and emerging personality was a pleasant surprise to a lot of people—Beomgyu included. 

This was worrying for two reasons. 

One, because everything lined up pretty perfectly with the last time she was in town. 

And two, because she knew damn well, more than anyone else, of that individual’s history with Beomgyu. 

Maybe that’s a bit of a stretch. Everyone who knew Beomgyu knew about her too. Everyone thought they’d get married and stay in town forever, so it was quite a shocker when they ended up fizzling out and she left for New York so abruptly. It’s a little odd that everyone’s still so obsessed with their failed love story, but small towns tend to hold onto any bit of drama they can get. When tornadoes bring in people from the past, it’s inevitable that a rainstorm of gossip will come along with it. 

The house is quiet when she walks in. She sees Beomgyu asleep on the couch in front of the fireplace, which is only dying embers now. They glow a faint red, barely sparking, but are still exuding a fair bit of warmth. The entire house smells like firewood and sugar, the latter scent being courtesy to Beomgyu’s newfound hobby. Baking, of all things! Karina simply didn’t understand where it was coming from. This too began at the end of summer, when he declared that he was sick and tired of store bought treats (he’d never had a problem with them before) and that he was taking on the task of providing the two of them with fresh baked goods whenever they wanted. 

He was horrible at it, for a while. He’d never baked anything edible in his life, and he went through a fair bit of money buying ingredients because of how often he would mess up and want to try again. If anything, his determination was what linked banking to his other interests. He had always been a stubborn asshole, especially when it came to working at the auto shop, previously owned by his father, and before that his grandfather. 

But eventually, he got better. He liked to make muffins, and he would leave them out for Karina when she returned from her night shift, still warm to the touch—he’d often be awake well into the early hours of the morning to try and get a new recipe right. It was enough overlap that Karina, who got home around four in the morning, was able to get to them while they were still fresh. Eventually, this was the only was she ever felt warmth from her husband. 

She walks over to the couch quietly. She had slipped off her shoes as soon as she walked through the door, wanting to keep the floors clean. 

Beomgyu looked peaceful when he slept—a facial expression that never occurred naturally around her any more. She smoothed a lock of reddish brown hair out of his eyes, and he winced at the contact. She removed her touch from his face, but the damage was already done. Her husband opened his eyes, one before the other, and frowned in the firelight. “What time is it?” he asked. “Did you just get back?” 

“Four fifteen,” she confirms, “what did you make tonight?” 

“Blueberry streusel,” he replied, sitting up and yawning. He did not, however, move to go to sleep in their bed, with her. 

“Muffins,” she said quietly, staring at the muffins, still steaming from the oven. 

A silence settles upon the couple, in which nothing is heard but the howling winds outside and the faint crackling of the dying embers in the fireplace. 

“I think I’m gonna head to bed—“ 

“I can’t live like this any more—“ 

The two of them stare at each other, both cut off by the other. “What do you mean you can’t live like this any more?” Karina asks sharply, any semblance of sleepiness immediately gone from her body. “What does that mean?” 

Beomgyu rubs the sleep from his face and groans into his own grasp. “I just—I don’t think I’m happy like this.” 

“With me,” Karina says, though it’s more of a question than anything. She already knows the answer. 

“Just with everything. I feel like I’ve done nothing with my life,” he explains, ruffling his own hair. Her fingers twitch, wanting so desperately to run through those soft locks. 

“What does that mean for us?” she asks in a small voice. She hates how meek she sounds. 

Beomgyu shrugs, as if she’s simply asking him what he wanted for dinner. “I don’t know.” 

She’s suddenly angry more than sad, but she feels tears coming to her eyes either way. “It’s because of her,” she spits, to which Beomgyu’s eyes widen. He already knows who she’s talking about. 

“Who?” he asks, eyes darting around wildly. 

“You know damn well who.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t respond to his wife, and instead they stare at each other as a frigid cold settled over them. She couldn’t undo what she said, and he couldn’t undo what he did—that was that. 

Silence ensued for the rest of the night, and in the morning when Beomgyu awoke again his wife was gone. He had a voicemail left by one of her friends, stating that she’d be around every now and then in the coming week to pick up Karina’s things little by little. Karina, it seemed, did not ever want to see Beomgyu again. 

He understood that decision—honestly, he did. He felt guilty after he realized just how much warmth and love she had provided him, even if he never picked up on it before and surely took it for granted. There was a cold void left behind, and it was slowly overtaking the entire house. 

Beomgyu didn’t know what else to do—what else could he do? With his wife gone, his auto shop mediocre at best, and no one important left in his life? Other than his parents, who had already retired and moved away years ago, he had absolutely no one left. All he had was shattered remnants of past relationships—and in grasping onto those shards desperately, not caring whether or not they cut into his flesh, he sold the house and used his funds to move to the city that never sleeps, in the hopes that someone somewhere would be able to wake him out of the waking nightmare he’d been living for the past decade.

DIVIDER CREDIT | @firefly-graphics

[prettyboysun]

txt beomgyu fic recs

idle town (11.2k, angst, smut)

the city that never sleeps (28.2k, idle town sequel, my personal fav)

come home tonight (angst, break up)

into the cold water (2.3k, friends to lovers, fluff)

how to get the girl (21k, fluff, friends to lovers)

love love (3.7k, best friends to lovers)

the only exception (12k, summer love)

mogi (14k, friends to ??)

2am (4k, all smut)

are you sure? (1.3k, fluff)

[prettyboysun]

hello anton | l. at

boyfriend!anton x fem. reader | 7.6k words

i recommend listening to n side by steve lacy when reading this! a mix of two requests that i felt were kinda the same :3

contains: anton gets a lil messy! protected sex (yassss), nothing else i can really think of.

“oh my god.” anton said breathlessly.

anton can barely take in the sight of you underneath him. anton sees your body that’s shiny from sweat move in tandem with his thrusts amd he watches your mouth slightly open while you moan. anton sees you take all of him, and he can feel it too. anton can see the way your chest heaves, each shaking breath in brings your boobs closer to his face and each time you exhale it ends with a tiny whine. your shy eyes flicker between where anton slides into you to his flushed face. anton gets high off the fact that you can only focus on his eyes for a moment before looking away, letting your head lean over the edge of the bed as you try to gather yourself.

the view you and anton make is mesmerizing. he just wishes it wasn’t so blurry.

anton blames it on his lack of preparation for the night. you two meticulously planned every aspect of the day, determined to finally be alone. there were some surprises along the way, like you showing up to anton’s door with hello kitty pajamas and your plushies in an extra bag. that was a minor bump in the road, anton knew it came with the territory of dating someone so cute. neither of you could deny that the plushies were a bit egregious, but it was something you said you couldn’t sleep without. anton wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, so he helped you take out all your plushies to lay them on his bed. it wasn’t an inconvenience to anton at all. what truly inconvenienced anton was the fact that he ran out of contacts and completely forgot to replenish his supply. it was unlike him to forget something so important; it was fair to say you distracted him.

so now anton had no choice but to look at your naked body through the fogging lenses of his glasses. he could’ve taken them off—they were half way down his nose threatening to slip off anyway. but anton had to have a clear view of you for your first time together. after you guys spent all week making sure everything fell in place for you to be together alone in his apartment he wouldn’t settle for anything less.

your planning started on saturday. usually early morning was when you guys were alone so you two knew you didn’t have time to waste. the moment you heard the door close you wasted no time getting on top of your boyfriend to straddle his hips. while you felt his body anton’s hands roamed frantically, lifting your shirt and cupping your chest over your bra. 

you moaned into anton’s mouth each time he gave you a gentle squeeze. you let your head fall back with a sigh, catching a glimpse of the show on anton’s macbook before bringing your focus back to him. in moments like these you couldn’t get many words out, anything in your mind being replaced with the thought of someone coming in and interrupting you guys. you spoke to anton through actions and the way you pressed your hips close to his told him you needed more. 

anton took the initiative to guide your back to his couch, slotting himself between your legs as he continued to kiss you. his grip on your chest only tightened when you wrapped your leg around his waist to pull his legs closer. anton left your lips to focus on your neck, breathing so heavy the sound of his huffs crackled in your ears. anton sucked and nibbled on the skin of your neck and your hand moved to the armrest of the couch to steady yourself. your other hand went to the back of anton’s head to press him deeper into your neck. you let him suck harder and you could feel his teeth indent your skin. when he bit down slightly you pulled away from him to see his glossy lips and blown out eyes.

“take your shirt off anton.” you whimpered.

immediately anton heeded your request, leaning back to lift his shirt over his head. 

before he could even put his hands on the bottom hem of his shirt, the door opened. you let out a sound of surprise and so did anton, his body whipping around to see who came through the door. you quickly got up from the couch too, pulling yourself from under anton to peer over the top of the sofa. 

sohee stood in the doorway, only frozen for a second before realizing the scene before him. after seeing you and anton’s position on the couch he rolled his eyes before walking fully into the room.

“you two are disgusting.” sohee murmured. 

sohee set his bag on his desk next to the door as he went to get on his computer. you and anton fixed your appearances and you cleared your throat.

“we weren’t doing anything.” anton said shyly. 

“yeah okay.” sohee scoffed while putting on his gaming headset.

“also you couldn’t knock?” anton said.

“it’s like eight in the morning. i thought you two would be asleep still.” sohee said.

this was a common occurrence when coming to the dorms. it was almost impossible to get a moment alone with anton, always getting interrupted right as things started to get really interesting. more times than you could count you and anton would be in the heat of the moment and have someone come through the door, or a guilty conscious would stop you from taking things further. 

there was a day when the two of you were locked away in anton’s room while sohee was in some classroom taking a test. making out was your favorite thing to do with anton when sohee wasn’t there, but sungchan being in the shared space of the apartment stopped you guys from going any further. you can’t say you didn’t try, but when you let your hand drift downwards anton held your wrist.

“i can’t focus while sungchan is right outside.” anton said quietly.

“he’s probably back in his room.” you whispered to him.

you made a feeble attempt to fight against his grip, smiling at the fact that anton was barely exerted any strength. despite anton having a hold on you and the upper hand in the situation, he became a blushing mess purely at the thought of being walked in on. even when you took off your shirt to entice him he would only look entranced for a moment before bashfully shaking his head.

“you look amazing, but i can’t. i’m sorry.” anton said, blush creeping across his face.

you understood anton’s reservations, but you wanted nothing more than to go all the way. it seemed like you two were destined for a relationship filled with heavy petting and interrupted make out sessions. it seemed like this situation had happened too much, with both of you hot and bothered on the couch while sohee was sitting on his computer.

“there’s food outside by the way.” sohee said.

you and anton left the room while sohee had his headset on. you shot sohee your meanest glare, sohee only rolled his eyes before focusing on the game. 

it was embarrassing being caught by sohee, but it was not nearly as bad as anton’s other roommates in the kitchen. they pulled themselves away from their food solely to tease you guys as you emerged from anton’s room. anton’s face was beet red by the time they were done asking their prodding questions and making jokes.

“what were you two doing in there with the door closed?” eunseok asked obnoxiously.

anton had to just lower his head while you laughed all of the comments off. it wasn’t until seunghan said something about making a big car fit into a small garage that you were stunned into silence. you were able to get out of the situation after that, saying you had a class to go to. anton nodded his head a little too quickly when you asked him to take you, extremely happy to get out of his current situation.

on the walk to your class you guys started planning how to be alone in his apartment. it worked out perfectly, convincing sungchan to throw a party at the place he shared with shotaro. all you had to bring up was an important game on campus and the rest was like clockwork. the hardest part of the plan was trying to get sohee to go. after anton groveled and promised to help him with his composing assignment he folded. 

the planning and devising led to the moment of you knocking on anton’s door, overnight bag and duffle in hand. you smiled big when anton opened the door, nodding to show you your grand scheme worked. you hugged and jumped into his arms. anton smiled from ear to ear at your excitement, closing your door while you were jumping.

anton took your bags and kissed your forehead, walking over to his room. you followed behind anton buzzing with every emotion, excited for what the night had in store for you both. 

it hit anton a little differently, he was suddenly nervous at what could potentially happen tonight. what if someone came in while you two were together? what if anton wasn’t good enough for you? anton turns around and looks at you, stuffing his hands nervously in his sweatpants. he sees you look him up and down, pointing at your duffle bag. anton hands it to you and you squat to the floor to open it.

“i have something for you. well for us.” you laugh.

anton peaks into your bag and sees all of your plushies, then anton sees you reach into the depths and pull out a matching pajama set for the two of you. 

anton sighed heavily at the matching hello kitty pajama set just to see your reaction. you still had a big smile on your face when you handed anton his set. when he looked a little hesitant all you had to do was slightly pout your lips and look crestfallen before he took the pajamas from your hands wordlessly. he changed into his set quickly, feeling ridiculous in the cute pajamas until he saw your large smile. anton almost thought it was embarrassing how willingly he’d do anything for you just to see you happy. anton followed your smile all the way to his bedroom, trailing behind you with your overnight bag and duffle bag.

you and anton set up your plushies on his bed, turning them away from your body so you could change. anton sat on the edge of his bed watching you too, not even trying to hide it. he debated on holding one of your hello kitty plushies in his lap to cover her eyes like he did when he was at your apartment. but when you took off your shirt anton forgot what he was thinking about completely. his hands instinctively went to his eyes like he hasn’t seen you naked countless times. when anton peaked at you through open cracks in his fingers you both laughed. 

when you were all dressed anton put his hands down, a light blush started to spread across his cheeks. you imagined you felt the same as him in this moment, your face becoming so warm it was almost uncomfortable. you gave anton a little twirl, laughing about how the pajama set was just a size too big. the sleeves hung past your hands and the waistband was loose on your waist. anton’s ears started to become a light red when you lifted your hand to let the loose sleeve drop to your elbow. anton gives you a big smile, one that lifts his glasses slightly on his face.

“you look cute.” anton said.

anton held out his hand to you and you came closer to him. you let anton put his hand on your waist, acting as your impromptu human belt. he doesn’t know why his hand gravitates to the dip on your body, resting there whenever he gets the chance. you like it though, because anton’s neck was like a magnet for your hands. on the rare occasion you got the chance to clasp your hands behind anton’s neck you took it. so you come closer to your boyfriend as he sits on the edge of his bed and put your hands on the base of his neck. anton has to tilt his head upwards to look at you, his large frames helps him take you all in.

“we look cute,” you bend down to kiss anton’s forehead. “we look super cute actually.” you say.

you started messing with the stitching of anton’s shirt. it as soft underneath your fingertips, and felt just textured enough to distract yourself from looking at anton for too long. standing above him in between his legs makes you feel jittery. anton pushed his glasses up his nose bridge with the hand that wasn’t on your hips and sighed contently. when he leaned his head against your hand, you had no choice but to look at him.

 “how many times have we been able to be alone?” anton asked.

he spoke to you but his mind seemed like it was somewhere else. his thumb mindlessly rubbed your waist, causing the extra fabric of your shirt to fold underneath his finger. you tried to recall the times you two have been completely alone and it was a struggle. even at your own apartment you lived with roommates and the apartment’s dog. the only time you could think was on a date, but even then it wasn’t completely private. study dates were in the public library and movie dates were always in packed theaters. 

“less than what i can count on my hand.” you answered.

maybe that’s why you were so nervous. it was hard to imagine what it would be like being truly alone with anton, if he would change knowing that you two couldn’t be interrupted.

anton sighed and you understood why. maybe you two would eventually move out soon so you could spend the rest of your days together. but that was a conversation for later. right now you wanted to focus on the finite amount of alone time you had with your boyfriend. almost instantly it was like a switch had been flipped, the unresolved tension between you two filled the room. anton’s other hand came to your hip and he held you there in place. his words bobbed in his throat like his adam’s apple and you saw anton swallow twice before you made your own move. 

you looked at anton with your most unassuming expression when you clasped your hands behind his neck and moved to sit on his lap. you couldn’t bare to say what you were doing out loud so you were happy anton got the hint. he opened his legs enough for your legs to rest between them. anton clasped his hands on your waist and smiled as you sat on his thigh.

anton looked up at you with shining eyes and you unclasped your hands to move some hair from his face. you let your hand rest on his shoulder, using the socket joint like a stress ball. when anton looked at you a certain way you subconsciously squeezed him.

“are you nervous?” anton asked.

you wish you were nervous. you have always been nervous, to the point that you knew how to handle it. when you felt the nerves building up and got so bad to the point where you couldn’t think, you knew what to do. you learned breathing exercises and counting things until your breathing steadied and you stopped shaking. but this was something you didn’t know how to manage. it started wherever you touched anton and blossomed around your whole body, feeling like a million ants were on you. it was going to consume you whole if you didn’t do something about it soon.

anton’s hand that was on your waist had found a way to sneak underneath your shirt and rest on your bare stomach. seeing your boyfriend in glasses was arguably an even bigger distraction. the way he kept constantly pushing the glasses up his nose bridge had you thinking things that left your whole body feeling hot. anton was no better, lifting the fabric of your shirt as an excuse to clean his lenses. you settled further on anton’s lap and enjoyed feeling him get tense underneath you. you liked teasing him the same way he teased you, trying to get a rise out of him.

it was a challenge for anton to not be tense, especially with you on him like this. he had a perfect view of your whole body and he could see you practically swimming in your oversized pajamas. he wonders if you purposely bought your sets to be the same size just so you both could revel in the difference. anton’s eyes kept going to his hand that was pressed against your stomach, a faint outline showing through your shirt. he tried to be subtle when let his hand drift a little lower to the waistband of your pants. anton’s middle and ring finger finds their way underneath the elastic, the rest of his fingers rest on the outside of your pants. 

you looked up at anton from underneath his chin, smiling at him trying to be inconspicuous. you bring anton in for a kiss and he reciprocates. the hand that isn’t drifting further into your pajama pants wraps around your body to give you stability. feeling anton’s hand on your shoulder makes you desperate, you push your face further into his with your quick kisses, and anton takes it all. with each push he pushes back and you think he might be just as desperate as you are. 

all of your plushies watch as you kiss anton all the way down to the bed, pushing up from him to stand up. anton gets on his elbows to watch you take off your ridiculously large pajama shirt, throwing it on the ground. anton follows your lead and takes off his shirt with one hand. he sets it on the bed next to him over a cluster of your hello kitty memorabilia.

anton fully gets on the bed and you get on after, maneuvering until you hover over him. it’s almost awkward, not knowing what to do next. you two have spent so much time trying to get to this moment you never stopped to think what comes after. you look at his eyes past his frames, how he pushes them up and lets his hand go to your waist. you kiss his lips again, and you can feel the cool frames of his glasses press against your nose. 

you both find your rhythm again together. like when you were sitting on his lap, anton cups your heat again. you straddle anton’s legs to give his hand that’s in your pants more room to work with and he presses two fingers against your covered slit experimentally. you nod your head and pause kissing him, too distracted by the sudden feeling. anton loves being the reason why you lose your train of thought and he loves being able to see it in real time. he presses his fingers harder, feeling the fabric stick to your folds. 

“can i—” anton asks.

“yes please.” you answer. 

anton puts his hand into your panties teasing your clit with his index and middle finger. you continue to kiss anton as he runs his finger through your folds. anton runs his fingers up and down repeatedly, letting your slick gather on his fingers. you start taking the lead on kissing, tilting anton’s face with your hands to put your tongue into his mouth. he moans and opens his mouth wider. you occasionally let your eyes open for a split second, to see anton’s glasses fog up and the way his lips move with yours. 

when anton puts two fingers inside of you, you lose the beat of kissing anton. you two had been in this position many times before, with anton finger fucking you while you squirmed above him and each time it was the same. you would go into it determined to keep up with his speed, and not lose your mind while kissing him. but it was no use—you were kissing him back a beat too late, and interrupting his tongue in your mouth with little whines. you were so distracted by the feeling of him inside of you that you had to abandon kissing him completely. you retreated from anton’s lips and put your face in the crook of his neck, panting right into his ear. he loved hearing you get desperate and feeling you push your hips back to meet his hand. 

anton’s arm across your back kept you in place and his legs kept yours spread. anton knew you had a habit of closing in on yourself like a supernova when you were close, evident in the countless times he’s fingered you before. he’s had to keep a hand on your thighs many times using gentle force to keep you from locking his hand in place. but anton had to admit he had gotten a little carried away in this position. when anton lifted his head to look down he saw that part you were spread the farthest he’s ever seen you. even as you were straddling him, anton had spread his own legs to keep yours even further apart. anton felt no resistance as he plunged his fingers in and out of you. it actually felt like your hole was pathetically trying to keep his fingers inside of you, pulsing around his digits like a heartbeat. anton saw it all, the way your legs bent and twitched as you got closer. anton could barely make out where your legs ended and his began, the matching pajama set throwing him off in the best way possible. 

when you pressed your hips to anton’s straining dick he groaned. you looked up from his neck to see his adam’s apple bob in his throat and how he pressed his head into his mattress. you pressed your hips against his again to try and illicit the same reaction. anton looked at your through his big frames. they were falling down his nose and you used a shaky hand to push them back up. anton smiled and stuck his fingers into you deeper, bending them at the knuckle. your head went back into your boyfriend’s neck and he cranes his neck to kiss your temple.

“thank you baby.” anton said.

you tried to say you’re welcome but it turned into a whimper. anton didn’t stop, his hand drifting down to grab a handful of your ass. you whimpered again feeling anton knead your supple skin. you couldn’t stop yourself from digging your fingers into the skin of his shoulder. the same way he was leaving a handprint on your ass you were leaving crescent moons on anton’s shoulder. he picked up the pace of his fingers and you couldn’t stop squirming. you felt the you started slowly losing your mind, trying to parts of anton to hold on to.

“you’re close, right?” anton asked.

you pick your head up from the crook of anton’s neck to look at his face. you nod your head like anton didn’t already know. your heart thuds in your ribcage and you’re certain anton can feel the beat against his sweaty chest. you nod your head pitifully when anton increases his pace.

“yeah” you whined.

“hold onto my arm.” anton said.

instantly you reached your hand behind you back to grab anton’s arm. you flail a couple times, grasping at nothing until you put your hand over anton’s the rests on your ass. anton lets go of your ass to grab your hand, pushing down so your stomach presses into his hard dick. you try your best to push your body down on your own accord but you can’t control yourself. all you can focus on is the way anton’s fingers bend and pump in and out of you. you let anton use his strength to press your body against him, loving the feeling of him twitching against your stomach. 

you clench around anton’s three fingers and hold his hand tightly. the orgasm is white and hot and you take it out on anton’s neck, biting and sucking his skin in effort to bring anton pleasure too. he notices your attempt and sighs contently feeling your tongue on his skin.

“just like that.” you whine in between kisses.

anton nods and keeps thrusting his fingers into you. the sound fills your room, even anton makes sounds of surprise as he feels how wet your are. he doesn’t stop until you are a shaking mess on top of him. you use the last of your strength to pull yourself from anton’s neck to see his face. he looks down at you over the top rim of his glasses. your body turns to jelly on top of him, resting your head on his while he slows down his fingers. your moans become high pitched and airy. 

by the time anton pulls his fingers from your heat you drooled onto his chest and your body almost feels numb. anton kisses the top of your head and you sigh, chest still heaving. you rest your head over anton’s heart and hear that his beat matches yours. it reverbs in your ear as you steady your breathing, and anton rubs you back in an effort to bring you back to earth.

you roll off of anton towards the edge of the bed when your breathing finally settles. you’re right next to the cluster f your plushies that anton covered with his shirt. anton turns to face you, propped up on his elbow as he places a hand on your stomach. he rubs the skin there and he can feel the muscles in your stomach tense. you’re so sensitive and nearly jumpy from his touches but anton can still see that hungry look in your eye. he pushes his frames up one more time and darts out his tongue to wet his lips. 

“are you okay?” anton asks. 

“yeah.” you answer.

anton’s fingers trace shapes over your abdomen. he only adds a little pressure behind his touches occasionally, just to gauge your sensitivity. your body doesn’t let you calm down. when you remember you’re truly alone in this apartment the same antsy feeling returns over your body. anticipation builds underneath your skin and in between your legs. the anticipation makes you put your hands over anton’s that rests on your stomach. you nod and pull his body towards you, trying to silently show anton you want him to get on top of you. he obliges, clambering over your body to hover over yours.

anton goes from his elbow to his palm to get a better view of you. he liked this angle better, this way he would be able to see your expressions quickly and see what you were looking at. he could see clearly from up here that you couldn’t really manage to look at him to too long, your eyes drifting to his nose or shoulder every so often.

“is this okay?” anton asked.

you nod and moved your legs, giving space for anton to slot himself between your legs. he watches your expression behind his glasses as he experimentally presses his bulge into your clothed heat. you sigh and nod your head vigorously. 

“i need you so bad anton.” you whine.

it’s frustrating how many layers of clothes separate you from anton. you pull down your pajama pants and ruined panties in one go. you don’t bother taking them off all the way before lifting your feet to push anton’s waistband down. you have never been this impatient in your life, but you feel like you may burst into flames if you don’t quell the fire that has been building up to this moment.

anton goes back on his haunches, putting a hand on your bent knee.

“i’ll be right back.” anton says before getting off the bed completely. 

you watch him walk over to his dresser and you finish taking off your bottoms, leaving you completely naked on his bed. the air in anton’s room is cold and you let your knees come together to hide your bare center. 

anton comes back to the side of the bed quickly, holding two condoms and a completely full bottle of lube. it makes your face a little hot, knowing the condoms and lube you two bought together was about to be put to use. anton feels it too, his face already dusted with blush. he awkwardly bends down to put the things in the crater of his sweater that still lays on his bed. 

you start thinking about your plushies that lay underneath anton’s sweater only for a moment before you see anton pull his pajama pants down. he’s left in just his boxers, standing on the edge of the bed looking down at you. you sit up and let your legs drape over the edge of the bed. you look up at anton and let your shaky hands go to his waistband. before you can pull his boxers down, he puts his hand over yours.

“are you sure?” anton asks.

“yes,” you nod your head. “are you?” you ask.

anton nods and puts his hands on his waistband next to yours. you two work together to take off his boxers together, his dick springing free. it bobs in the air, so close to your face if you stuck out your tongue you’re sure you be able to taste him. you reach out your hand and wrap it around the base of anton’s dick. it never ceases to amaze you how it’s so heavy and big but still sticks straight forward. you are also driven by the light sighs and gasps of anton when you drag your hand down his length. it glides easily, from all the precum that beads at his tip. you stick out your tongue and anton puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“i won’t last,” anton gently pushes your shoulders back until you lay down on the bed. he positions himself between you and the wall once you’re down. “and i’ve waited so long.” he says.

you nod and put your body at an angle to try and give anton more room. his body is large and awkward as he figures out the best position for both of your bodies. you two end up laying diagonally on the bed, with anton on his haunches slotted between your legs. you reach behind you blindly to feel around for the foil packet. when it’s in your hands you give it to anton, propping yourself on your elbows to watch him.

anton is gentle ripping the foil packet, putting the trash on top of his pile of clothes. you feel lightheaded seeing anton put the condom on himself. you can see his abs flexing and his dick twitching from the stimulation. you think about how anton touches himself when you aren’t around, if he throws his head back the same way he does when you give him a handjob. you have to stop yourself from asking him to touch himself and you bend your legs, spreading them more for anton. he pinches the tip of the condom to make sure it’s secure before coming to you. 

one of his hands is beside your head when comes down to kiss your lips. you reciprocate, reaching a hand between your two bodies to stroke his dick. he sighs against your lips before replacing his hand with yours. you both look down, the weight of what is about to happen starts sinking in. you start to realize how big anton truly is as he hovers above you. you wonder if he’ll be able to fit when he lets his tip prod at your slit. anton kisses your cheek when he looks down at you again. 

“tell me if it’s too much, okay?” anton says, pushing up his glasses.

anton intertwines his fingers with yours and kisses your knuckles as he lines himself up. he’s so big above you and the position you’re currently in only makes you feel smaller. your nose touches his adam’s apple as he kisses your forehead and slowly pushes himself in.

you both gasp when anton puts his tip in. you feel the stretch and anton feels your walls clenching around him as he slides further in. you clench around him in uneven intervals, your pussy desperately trying to get use to the stretch. your squeeze anton’s hand as he sinks further in, and it’s his turn to go into the crook of your neck as he tries to compose himself.  he curses into your soft and sweaty skin, kissing the skin there to try and soothe you.

“you’re so big.” you whine.

anton doesn’t know if you meant to say it out loud, your thoughts coming out without a filter. regardless, he can feel his dick twitch from you words and the way you whimper while taking him. he’s happy he was able to finger you and the extra lubrication of your previous orgasm helps anton fit inside of you snuggly. each time anton curses in your ear or gives you praise he can feel your walls closing in on him. you become a mess underneath him when he bottoms out, feeling like a heartbeat around his length. you finally open your eyes and move a hand to his shoulder, lifting him from the crook of your neck. you have to readjust his glasses for him, and there’s fog from the hot air radiating from your skin.

“keep going anton.” you say.

anton looks down at you then to your plushies that are covered up by his shirt. he pulls out all the way before sliding back in just as slow. he giggles a little bit and your eyebrows furrow in confusion, mind partially occupied by the feeling of anton easing back into you.

“good thing they’re not watching.” anton said quietly.

you wanted to retort but you couldn’t when you felt his hips kiss yours as he bottoms out inside of you again.

the same way anton’s hips were slowly bringing you over the edge of the bed anton was crossing over the edge of something himself. he was actively abandoning the meek version of himself that could only huff and whimper at the feeling of you wrapped around him. he was becoming someone more dominant, someone that pressed his hand to your lower stomach before he pulled out of you all the way and pushed inside of you again.

“can you feel me here?” anton asked.

he was close to your ear when he asked his question. anton’s breath stuck to your sweaty skin and the humidity between your two bodies fogged his glasses. 

“so big.” you said nodding your head.

“so small. and tight too.” anton replied.

when you dug your fingernails into his skin it gave anton the confidence to continue. 

he raises up from your body to look down at you. this gives a whole different angle, and it feels like anton might split you down the middle. 

anton knew he didn’t have a dominant personality. he didn’t hate it, he felt like the label of gentle giant suited him well. if his voice was any indication he didn’t know how to be the domineering type. he stuck with being the soft-spoken and calm one, even in your relationship. anton left his friends wondering how he even got the bravery to approach you or ask you on a date. honestly, anton didn’t really know either. he knew it was all your doing.

but when anton looked down at the sight below him through his low hanging glasses he felt different. anton could see you struggle to take all of him and he could feel your nails digging into his arms to steady yourself. he saw your eyebrows crease and your mouth open as you struggled to get anything besides tiny whimpers and moans out. anton could feel himself needing more, and he decided he would be the one to get it out of you. 

anton came to a complete stop inside of you. he loved the way your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and how expressive your eyes were when you looked up at him. 

“what’s wrong?” you asked.

anton physically shivered seeing the tears in the corner of your eyes and the way your voice was still shaky and pitched high from your whining. anton bends his body close to yours, so close that your nose pushes his glasses up. anton puts his arm underneath your knee to hike it up slightly and he lets his lips ghost over yours. 

before you can repeat your question anton quickly pulls himself out of you all the way and thrusts back inside of you. it’s the roughest he’s ever been with you, the force pushes your body slightly over the edge of anton’s bed. anton’s lips still ghost over yours, his eyes scan parts of your face that he can see. he sees the way your eyes close and the way your lips part. anton stills inside of you again, waiting for you to open your eyes. 

you keep eye contact with him, pupils blown out from lust when anton pulls all the way out of you again. you brace yourself for it, feeling his hand press deep into your lower stomach. anton thrusts into you again with the same force and you let your moan rip through the room, letting your head lean over the foot of anton’s bed. this is when anton pulls away from you guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. you do so immediately, loving the way anton manhandles you. you’re happy he spares you from hearing his commanding voice. if anton told you to do something right now you think you would finish on the spot.

you can barely recover before anton starts fucking you again. he doesn’t pull out all the way like he did before, but thrusts into you with a force that’ll push you completely off the bed soon. you have to hold onto his arm to stay in place. 

anton lets your small hand wrap around his bicep, he flexes to give you something steady to hold onto. he folds back over, putting a hand on the top of your head to try and push your body ever closer to his. the way you look constantly has him changing positions. anton can’t control his mind from telling him to give you everything he has. and anton watches you take it all.

“i just can’t get enough of you.” anton sucks on the lobe of your ear.

he ruts into you now, the momentum causing your chest to move. anton wishes he had more hands to touch you with, so he could tweak your nipples and press deeply into you stomach and stimulate your clit all at the same time. but anton makes the sacrifice of feeling himself in your stomach to move to your chest. he revels in the fact that you fit so easily in his hand and he can’t stop himself from taking your tit into his mouth, sucking up and looking at you.

anton can barely see your through his sweaty bangs that fall past the rim of his glasses and blocks his view. he knows you like it by the way you moan his name and arch your back. your hand goes to rub anton’s head, like you’re petting him for being a good boy. this only makes anton pick up the speed and push you further over the edge of his bed. you head leans completely over and you can hear the sound of his creaking metal frame and the dull thud of your plushies falling off the bed.

you think you hear something else, but it’s forgotten when anton pulls your upper body to meet his like you weigh nothing. before you can comprehend anything anton plants his foot on the ground next to the bed so he can fuck you sitting up. you put your foot on the edge of the bed beside him to get closer. anton laughs and kisses your face at your fucked out expression.

“not too much, right?” anton asks.

you shake your head and kiss anton back. 

“it feels so good.” you whine

“good. i just want you to feel good.” anton says.

his words come out a little rough, cut short by how determined he is to fuck you. when you see anton look at your chest again you arch your back up to him to give him access. he doesn’t suck on your chest, only runs his wet tongue whenever he can reach. he has to look at you over the rim of his glasses now, and he sees your blurry lips suck on his fingers when he presses them on your tongue. he can see shine coming from the corners of your lips and spit covers your chest. you are a complete mess and it’s all for anton to partially see. 

“you close?” anton asks.

you nod pitifully, words failing to get out as you nearly gag on anton’s fingers.

anton looks down to where your two bodies meet. he lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth and he misses landing it on your clit. it falls on your abdomen and mixes with your sweat to glide down your body. anton takes his hand that was wrapped around your body to gather the spit and circle your clit. you start clenching around him uncontrollably the same way you did when he first slid in. anton hisses and works through the nearly blinding pleasure, continuing his motions.

“so tight i can barely move.” anton groans. 

you can barely keep your body upright anymore. your leg that was bent behind anton slid on his sheets and your thigh rests on his leg that’s planted to the floor. anton sits taller than you on the bed, and he kisses your forehead because he knows your close. you being so close makes anton desperate. he continues to hit the spot that he knows drives you crazy as he talks to you.

“i need to see you cum baby.” anton cooes.

you can only nod your head weakly before it hits you. you pull anton into you by his shoulders, your hands digging into the skin on his back. you’re the loudest you’ve ever been in your life, nearly crying out anton’s name with curse words wedged in between. anton continues to look down at you and kiss your face as squeeze around his length. anton waits for you to open your eyes to see the determined look you get. anton notices that you try to move your hips to meet his.

when anton cums he lays you down back to your original position. he forgets he’s wearing a condom when he stills inside of you after going as deep as possible. he ruts into you like you are taking every last drop and it ignites something inside of anton that he didn’t know existed. 

“fucking take it.” anton says quietly into your neck.

you lift your hips in response, and you milk anton as he empties into the condom. something was just ignited inside of you too.

when both of you come down from your high, anton settles his weight on top of you. you can only let him stay like that for a moment before tapping his shoulder. he looks up from your chest and is genuinely lost for a second like he forgot how big he is.

“oh shit. i’m sorry.” anton says.

the sweet innocent boyfriend is back in the blink of an eye. he pulls out of you to tie off his condom, looking back at your naked body as you roll on his bed. anton he picks up your plushies off the ground while you try and fight sleep away, slipping back into his hello kitty pajamas. anton gives you your clothes back before leaving the room. 

you can hear a faucet running, far off somewhere in another room before anton returns. he sits you up on the bed and wipes down the areas where he was the messiest. he gets the corner of your mouth and your chest, and he wipes down your thighs and core. you are still sensitive and preen from his touch. when you groan sleepily anton puts your head gently.

“you were amazing.” anton says. 

you open your eyes and pinch your boyfriend’s cheek, smiling at how cute he is. 

“you were too.” you say.

anton kisses your cheek and helps you back into your clothes. you both settle in bed, exerted and ready to sleep. you grab a hello kitty plushie and put it in between your two bodies. both of you kiss the stuffed animal’s head like it’s your baby.

you fall asleep on anton’s chest as he rubs your back, both of you finding a million different ways to say i love you

[prettyboysun]

anton with an injured s/o

(this is so self indulgent bcus i rolled my foot the other day and have to use crutches now lol) nsfw/suggestive at the end. ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ first off, size and strength kink goes crazy in this. anton's just your sweet and kind gentle giant </3 you hated using your crutches, even though they were required for you to recover properly. anton would always remind you and pester you about it in that soft voice of his "baby, i know it sucks but you have to :(" he hated seeing his pretty gf hurt. well u never used your crutches and it hurt for you to walk on your foot and for anton to witness it, so thats how the piggy backs happened! going to class and anton isn't busy? ok just wait there your strong and cute boyfriend will come get you <3 want to go for a midnight walk? he's at ur front door at 12 am. and dont even worry about being heavy to him! but when you guys are at home he never fails to princess carry you and it makes your heart soarrrrr. all of those hours in the gym and at the swimming pool paid off, he doesn't even break a sweat carrying you. plus you secretly get to feel up his chest, back and shoulders whenever he carries you and ogle at how big he is compared to your smaller frame.

and ur so grateful for ur sweet and kind bf so you always pepper kisses on his neck and cheek while he carries you, any places on his skin that you can reach tbh. at first his ears would turn red from your abrupt kisses but later on he started wanting to give you kisses in return, but in his position it's almost impossible. the only way for him to do so is when you stick your head out to give him kisses, but you always pull away too fast for him to return them >:( and giggle at him with a cute "hehe, too slow!" or "you'll have to be faster than that" not to mention the GIFTS. small gifts here and there to make you feel better. it's hard to go out and get ur favorite snacks or foods or drinks when ur foot is injured so he always brings you your favorite treats as a surprise. you told him before to stop buying u gifts in general (when u first started dating or were friends, he literally gave u gifts every week, ranging from small snacks to full on clothes and trinkets) but now that ur injured he uses it as an opportunity to spoil you hehe (evil smirk) he sees you as so frail and tiny (only bcus hes so freaking big and strong) that he's sometimes TOO gentle with you. "anton u can hug me, it's only my foot that's injured :|" omg omg when ur NEEDY, you love ur boyfriend and all but it's like he's TOO gentle for his own good. "i don't want to hurt you though...." while he rubs your arm softly while he looks into your eyes with warmth and worry. he only agreed to touch you after you gave him your best puppy eyes and were on the verge of tears from being frustrated. "i promise you won't break me, pleaseee?" he stays silent for a seconds before sighing and giving you a reassuring kiss on the lips. "fine. 🙄 your foot can't get even more broken than it is anyways..." he teases you before finally giving you what you want, but you can only get his fingers!! and he makes sure your injured foot is elevated on a stack of pillows the WHOLE TIME LOL in the end, thanks to anton and his methods you made a speedy recovery!

#anton fluff #anton x reader #anton smut #riize x reader #riize imagines

[prettyboysun]

trigger finger | j. sc

boyfriend!sungchan x fem. reader | 4.5k words

a request and i kinda just rolled with it lol.

contains: emotionally regulated sungchan gets his buttons pushed by his rude girlfriend, rough sex ???, unprotected sex, semi public

sungchan was patient. he was kind. he never raised his voice at anyone or lashed out. it took him awhile to become this way, so even keeled and calm. a majority of his late teens and early twenties was dedicated to taming his turbulent emotions and occasional outbursts. after years of learning to regulate all of his feelings he had become a person who could approach any situation with a balanced mind. 

he had channeled ebullient emotions into sports and working out. he figured if he could control his body to score a goal or hit a new max weight that same control could be transferred to his mind. because sungchan followed this mentality, by the time he had turned twenty his body and temperament had completely changed. he got compliments now not only about his height but his build too, people who knew him in his teens exclaiming how “different” he was compared to back then. sungchan learned by the time he was twenty one that they were trying to subtly mention how well adjusted he had become. sungchan was no longer the stubborn kid that would defy teachers and roll his eyes at his parents. he was a gentleman—one that held doors open even if ten people had to come through, one that removed his hat indoors and always volunteered to get the short end of the stick. he ate the figurative shit the world threw at him with a smile on his face; he took it as penance for the little demon he was growing up.

sungchan believes that’s what drew you to him. sungchan was twenty two now, so used to the being pleasant it became an intrinsic part of who he was. it was an automatic reaction for sungchan to meet your teasing words with a smile, a smile you found yourself falling for easily. if you were fire sungchan was water, if you were the pull he was the push, and the give to your take. 

you found out quickly that sungchan was a good boyfriend and an even a better person. it came out in every aspect of the relationship. he was unfazed by your guy friends that seemed nervous around him. he was friendly to almost every girl, letting them down easy anytime they tried to make an advance. he never responded to you when you tried to pick an argument or instigate a screaming match. sungchan would always grab your hands in his and urge you to sit down and “talk it out with him”. he was the type of person you needed in your life but it irked you to no end how pacific he was. you wanted to believe it was a facade, that sungchan felt negative emotions as strongly as you did. you were grateful to date someone who didn’t have a short fuse, but you started to find it alarming that he seemingly had no fuse at all. 

even in the four walls of your bedroom underneath the safety of the sheets sungchan was never anything less than sweet. he was a fast learner after you showed him how to treat you in bed and what you liked, but beyond that there was nothing. sungchan never bossed you around, never dared to put a pushy hand on your head. he never continued after you came once, and absolutely refused to act on his own selfish needs. everything was about you and you hated how much you hated it. you often recalled you being in the heat of the moment and telling sungchan breathlessly that he could do whatever he wanted to you. the only thing that came from your confession was sungchan finishing inside of you, a kink he told you about sheepishly after the fact. it was everything you wanted but so short lived. it was the only time you saw sungchan be even remotely self-serving. you found yourself rewinding the way he moaned “fucking take it” into your ear as you clenched around him before his hips stilled inside of you. your whiny sounds of approval and surprise didn’t influence sungchan to continue being dominant in bed, in fact it took him almost two days afterwards to initiate sex with you. and with a boyfriend like sungchan, two days felt like a century. 

the next time you two had sex it was the normally scheduled program, sungchan finishing in a condom while he kissed your forehead. you sat next to him leaned up against the headboard as he rubbed out your unexercised muscles. you looked down at your sweet boyfriend with his doe eyes and secretly made it your mission to bring out the other side of him.

that’s why you were at this party, dancing on a dining table surrounded by men you didn’t know. you always had fun at the gatherings that evolve to parties, feeling safe to be unhinged knowing your doting boyfriend with water in his red solo cup was watching you from across the room. this was unlike you though. you weren’t the type to be on the tables or start borderline flirting with random men. but you felt your unofficial bodyguards’ eyes on you after you evaded his very obvious hints that it was time to go home. the fleeting looks you spared towards sungchan egged you on, and you could see his look become more and more agitated throughout the night. when you snuck away from him while he was distracted by a friend you knew that if he saw you in your current state he would have to snap.

sungchan didn’t like parties too much, so he would stick to the walls and casual conversations with the people he knew that would be there. his main job every party he went to was to keep an eye on you, letting you have your fun while he kept you safe. you and sungchan had a unspoken rule though, that he would stay at the party and let you enjoy yourself only for as long as he allowed. he would come up to you when the party was winding down or if you looked bored and say something along the lines of “don’t you have an early morning tomorrow?”, “it’s getting kind of late”, or “do you want to go eat?” when sungchan said those words he knew that you knew it was time to go. so it was beyond sungchan why he had exhausted all those phrases and you were both still here. 

he had already had a long day at work when you told him there was a gathering you were going to and you wanted him to come along. he had no idea how defiant you would be at this gathering, or how the gathering was actually a party. sungchan felt his body tense up the more he thought about the day he had and the night you were subjecting him to. he saw you get too close with some men while they chatted you and your girl friend up, saw you grab another mans arm and squeeze before casting a glance to him. sungchan had to take deep breaths to keep him from crushing the life out of the cup in his hand. 

he almost got you to leave when you gravitated towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. he saw you mindlessly fiddling with the empty bottles of dark liquor, almost like you were waiting for him to approach you. before sungchan could put on his most stern voice and tell you it was time to go, his friend shotaro distracted him.

“sungchan!” shotaro exclaimed. 

sungchan turned away from you only for a moment to greet his friend. they saw eachother at work not even three hours earlier, sungchan noticed that shotaro had simply thrown on a leather jacket over his work uniform. 

“what are you doing at this party?” shotaro asked.

sungchan had to lean in to yell into shotaro’s ear over the music, the dimly lit room made sungchan think he was yelling into his friends hair. 

“i’m here with my girlfriend. we are about to leave though.” sungchan said.

calling you his girlfriend was the most possessive he ever let himself get. he liked the way the phrase rolled off his tongue, or the look of acknowledgment on people’s faces when he said it paired with him putting a hand on your hip. when sungchan turned around to touch you, he saw that you were no longer there. 

he quickly peered over the crowd, using the height advantage he had on a majority of the partygoers to find your face. it turns out he was looking too low, not noticing you until shotaro let out a sound of surprise.

“isn’t that your girl on the table?” shotaro said. 

shotaro pointed the same hand that was holding the beer towards your dancing body. sungchan was speechless as he saw you swaying and turning on top of the table, giving the men that were circling you earlier like a shark a show. when your eyes locked with his and your movements didn’t cease sungchan instantly felt adrenaline course through his veins.

he left shotaro without saying goodbye, walking through the sea of people straight for you. you kept your eyes locked on sungchan the whole time, a sly smile coming across your features as he stood in front of you.

you looked down at sungchan as he stared up at you. you could tell that he was trying to actively calm himself down, trying to repress the sungchan that you wanted let out.

“we’re leaving.” he said sternly.

this was the most authoritative you had ever heard him. people around him moved their bodies to the music, bumping into sungchan. you could tell that he was mad because his body didn’t budge to the people colliding with him. you continue to smile as sungchan reached out a chivalrous hand to guide you down from the table—one that you ignored while you continue to dance.

“i’m finally taller than you.” you joke.

this was the breaking point for sungchan. you can see your boyfriend’s body physically tense and his eyes widen. for a split second you smiled, seeing sungchan’s unbounded emotion. this only lasted for a second before your smile was replaced with a surprised gasp as sungchan used the same hand to wrap around your waist and bring you to the edge of the table. 

he put your body over his shoulder with ease, a single arm locking your legs in place. you could feel the plush of your thighs squish together as you kick your feet in surprise and prop your hands on his lower back to try and keep yourself upright. some people laughed and others cheered for you, but most of them go back to dancing as if nothing happened. you can feel sungchan place a hand on your lower part of your dress, pulling down the fabric so it covered the swell of your ass. 

sungchan is silent as he walks you through the house. it’s almost humiliating, being paraded around a crowded house party for everyone to see. in a weird twisted way you like it, indirectly showing off your boyfriends strength and your ability to push his buttons. you don’t know if sungchan knew how possessive he seems in this moment, showing everyone at the party that you’re his. it had been a whole night in the making, you have never worked so hard in your life. you hope it’s all paid off when sungchan carries you upstairs, using his long legs to clear two steps at a time.

once you’re in a quieter part of the house, walking down the corridor of closed doors you try to be as fake bossy as possible.

“put me down!” you grumble. 

you’re putting on a show now, your own facade of the irritated girlfriend. you lightly hit sungchan’s back as he checks each door in the hallway, seeing which knob will turn. he moves his body around, not taking into account your upper body whips back and forth from the momentum.

“sungchan i’m serious.” you say. 

still no response. you pray that a door will open up soon as you continue to whine in his grasp. you pray he can’t hear the smile in your voice as you struggle a little bit more in his hold.

“i wanna go back and dance.” you whine.

you hear the slap before you feel it on your skin. it hits you suddenly, like a lightning strike. it’s at the speed of light, sungchan’s large hand smacking where your thigh turns into your ass. it’s such a hard slap that it sounds all the way down the corridor and has you jolting forward in his hold. the pain flashing takes you by surprise, making you yell out loud.

“be quiet.” sungchan says.

his tone is even but assertive, and for the first time in your life you feel like you have bitten off more than you can chew. you obey him immediately, holding back all the other taunts you had floating around in your head. somehow hearing sungchan have an even tone in this situation is scarier than him raising his voice. the smack still stings on your skin as a doorknob finally turns for sungchan, revealing an empty room.

sungchan makes it to the bed in just two strides and wastes no time launching your body to the center. you are jostled and caught off guard as your ass lands first, momentum forcing you to land on your elbows for support.

you’re forced to look up at sungchan as he stands next to the bed. you are in a risqué position to say the least, your dress had ridden up well past your thighs to sit bunched up at your stomach. your knees closed together are the other thing hiding your core from sungchan’s piercing glare. you didn’t think your boyfriend was capable of looking at someone so intensely, his eyes felt like they were burning holes into your skin. when you were in this position with sungchan, it was usually you beckoning sungchan towards you with a finger while you slowly spread your legs. but now you looked up to him waiting for his next move or next order, his previous command and the thrill that followed still ringing in your ears and on the back of your thighs.

sungchan turns his back to you to go to the door, you follow him carefully. you watch him slowly close the door and hear the familiar sound of a lock clicking. while sungchan’s back is turned you quickly straighten your dress and quickly pat down your mussed hair, trying to seem as appealing as possible.

when sungchan comes back to his previous spot next to the bed you try to figure out what this new sungchan is going to do. you open your mouth and sungchan puts a finger up. you bite your lip to stop yourself instantly. his hands go to his hips and he starts breathing heavy even breaths. the anticipation makes you want to squirm. you have to use your last ounce of self control to keep yourself still.

“what do you want from me?” sungchan asks. 

the question catches you off guard. your hand that was playfully tracing shapes over your dress stills.

“what do you mean—” you start.

“do you want me to be mean? yell at you because you flirt with some guys?” sungchan asks.

you think that you’re about to get lectured before you see sungchan take off his jacket. when he throws it to the floor you watch him carefully, not sure what’s going to happen next. when his hands slowly reach for the buttons on his pants you can’t help smiling from excitement, hands going to the bottom of your dress. 

“i’m better than that.” sungchan says matter-of-factly.

you shimmy out of your dress, getting it halfway off before sungchan helps you the rest of the way. he throws the garment to the side carelessly before roughly pushing you down on the bed. you are nothing against his strength, your body hitting the mattress with a dull thud. sungchan crawls on the bed to rest on the back of his legs in front of you, his bottom half completely bare. your eyes are locked in on his dick as it twitches in the cold air of the room.

“if you want it like that so bad i can give it to you like that.” sungchan says.

you look your boyfriend in the eyes and nod your head, lifting your hips so he can roughly slide your underwear down your legs.

sungchan has a hand on your knees before pushing it the opposite way, telling you to put yourself on view for him. you oblige, spreading your legs as far as they will go.

“what was the food we shared on our first date?” sungchan asks.

you try to think of the answer as you see a large glob of spit leave sungchan’s mouth to drop on his dick. you see him pump his length a few times before looking at you, raising his eyebrows to indicate impatience.

“uhm. popcorn?” you guess. 

it was hard to think anything in this position, but you know you got the answer right when sungchan nods his head and moves forward on his knees to slot himself between your legs.

“say that if it gets to be too much.” sungchan says.

before you can say okay, sungchan fully pushes his length inside of you. the anticipation coats your walls, that aided with sungchan’s lubricant helps him slide in easily. your pussy clenches around him, sungchan is already hissing at how your practically sucking him in.

sungchan puts both hands on the back of your thighs and pushes them to your chest, loving the way you whine underneath the stretch.

“you just wanna get fucked so bad.” sungchan exasperates. 

he’s captivated by the way you dumbly nod your head, so desperate to be mocked. it almost makes sungchan want to withhold the side of him that wants to fuck you into the sheets. maybe he should be gentle with you and edge you until you’re crying in missionary. but sungchan thinks he’ll let out the possessive, jealous, and mean side of him he’s spent all this time taming. he presses your thighs even closer before leaning his head over yours. his bangs graze your forehead as he looks you dead in your hooded eyes.

“you just want me to fuck you the way you deserve?” sungchan asks.

you would say yes but sungchan moves his fingers into your mouth. his digits press down so heavily on your tongue it comes out gargled, spit dribbling down your chin as he continues to thrust into you.

“i get jealous baby i just hide it well.” sungchan says. 

your eyes get wide as you realize sungchan found out about your little mission. he smiles at your expression, fingers pressing down with a force that almost makes you gag.

“everyone wants a piece of you. drives me fucking crazy.” he says.

you moan in response, you don’t know how sungchan is able to keep his voice and words even while dragging his dick along your walls. his demeanor makes you clench around him without meaning to.

“wanna keep you...” sungchan has to look up at the ceiling to stop himself from moaning. “locked in a box sometimes. i’m crazy right?” sungchan asks rhetorically.

you wish you had known about this sungchan long ago. you would’ve done this way sooner if you had known this is what he was hiding from you. you work around sungchan’s fingers in your mouth to try and beg him to go faster.

“faster? i like going slow though.” sungchan fake pouts. he purposely slows his hips even more, dragging his tip along your folds before pushing back in. “because i know you hate it.” he smirks.

sungchan sits up a little to be perpendicular to your body, putting your calfs on his shoulders. the same arm that locked your thighs in place on his back straighten your legs, making you moan from another stretch. sungchan fucks you in this new position, moving his head to bit and suck on your ankles.

he thrusts into you with such a force that it makes your tits gyrate. sungchan is locked in on them, using his large hand to cup your breast. he roughly pinches your nipple, rolling the bud between his index finger and thumb. the extra stimulation and the pain has tears prickling your vision and has your skin prickling with electricity.

“already?” sungchan asks.

he can tell by the way your eyebrows furrow and legs spread that you’re close.

“just from this?” sungchan asks again. 

his pace doesn’t change, keeping his tempo as he sees your face contort in pleasure. sungchan smiles and moves his hand that was kneading your chest down to your clit.

“you’re too fucking impatient, didn’t even know you liked it slow.”

“me neither.” you say. 

your attempt at trying to sound as calm as sungchan fails miserably, you sound meek and whiny as you try to even your tone. sungchan laughs at your feeble attempt, hand that locks your thigh in place going to your cheek quickly to pinch the fat.

“you have no control.” sungchan says. his hand speeds up the revolutions on your clit. ”just let it out baby.”

that’s all you need to hear as you spasm around sungchan’s dick. you slick makes gives his thrusts new lubrication, helping him throughly fuck you through your orgasm. sungchan coos in response to your whines and says your name back to you when his falls from your lips.

you had come down from your high a long time ago, being driven to insanity solely off of sungchan teasing you. you start to squirm against him, trying to push your hips forward to suppress the stimulation. you see sungchan smirk before he flips you over, your face pressing into the sweaty indent of the mattress. 

sungchan uses a hand to push your stomach flat to the bed and spread your cheeks simultaneously. the sudden change in position has you going crazy. you swear you can feel sungchan in your stomach as he presses his sweaty chest to your back. he sucks and bites on the skin of your neck, not pulling away until you cry out from the feeling.

“not done yet.” sungchan whispers against the shell of your ear.

he traces the outline of your ear before taking your earlobe into his mouth. you have never felt all of these sensations at once. usually it was one or the other, sungchan was careful with how much he gave you in bed. if he had you in the prone bone position he was careful to not give you his full length, if he was inside you he usually only paired it with kisses on the lips, and he had never took the risk to overstimulate you. but now sungchan pounded into you mercilessly, leaving bruises on your neck and ass due to the way he was holding you. your subsiding orgasm was building back over your body and it left you like putty, your ass turning to jelly as sungchan fucked you in a faster pace. 

“you like this don’t you?” sungchan teased. “when i just use you?”

sungchan’s fingers were no longer in your mouth but still spit dribbled from your mouth and words were caught in your throat. whatever you said was intelligible, a string of broken words and moans that couldn’t be deciphered. sungchan still cooed anyway like you understood you, placing a sweet kiss to your cheeks as he lifted his body up.

“now you have nothing to say?” sungchan asks.

sungchan’s speed picked up when he raised his body, and his hand went to rest beside your head. you brought your hand to clasp around his wrist, nails digging into his skin as you felt him go a little deeper inside of you. having something to sink your nails into let you gain your bearings enough to speak in between his thrusts.

“i’m gonna—” you mumbled.

“this pussy is mine right?” sungchan said.

he still had that venom laced in his voice, but it came out airy. he was close, maybe even closer than you were.

“all yours.” you cried out.

your walls spasmed around sungchan’s dick as he pressed down into your again, spreading your folds with a single hand to reach deeper than he did before. sungchan finished while buried deep inside of you, a stop he knew no other man would ever be able to reach. you made sounds he had never heard from you before, your usually controlled moans turning into high pitched whimpers and begs. sungchan gave you what you were begging for when he pulled out just a little to push right back in, feeling a little bit of his cum seep out of you.

your high pitched moans drowned down to you repeating his name over and over again in a quiet voice. sungchan kissed you cheek and pulled out, standing up from the bed to take in the sight of you all fucked out and pliant on the mattress. he could see some of his cum leak out of you, a pool of drool making the sheets around your mouth dark. sungchan wishes he could take a picture to show the next man that ever looked in your direction, or show you the next time you got mouthy. he settles for turning you to your back and kissing your lips. 

you are still so fucked out your actions are delayed, behind the rhythm of sungchan’s lips by a beat. the only thing that brings you out of your trance is the feeling of sungchan’s fingers pushing his cum back into your slit, the extra lubrication making a lewd squelching sound. you can feel hot tears come down your face and sungchan kisses them away, retreating his fingers when a majority of it is back inside of you.

“i’ll be right back baby. don’t move.” sungchan whispers.

even if you wanted to move you doubt you could, your body shakes and your muscles ache at even the thought of lifting a finger. 

sungchan comes back to the room just as fast as he leaves, holding a warm wet rag and a dry one. sungchan cleans you up and pats off your sweat, helping you back into your clothes and pulling you up from the bed. it all happens in a haze, paying attention to sungchan’s words of praise that comes out in droves. before you know it you are standing on shaky legs. sungchan looks at your state and laughs at you, poking your sides. you swat his hand before giving him your meanest look, one that definitely has much less bite after the events that just transpired. sungchan still puts his hands up in defense before kissing your forehead.

“there’s my girl.”

[prettyboysun]

AMAZING.

before everything

★ pairing: kang taehyun x reader

★ summary: spinoff/prequel to after everything – how you and taehyun first met and how you got to where you are now 

★ warnings: lots of marijuana/weed (recreational) use, stoner!mc, chubby!mc, mc is older than taehyun by a year-ish, mc also has daddy issues (explanatory reasons), taehyun has tattoos, getting a tattoo mention, boxer&nerd kinda!taehyun, situationship/fwb, slight humiliation kink, semi-public sex, oral (fem / th receiving), gagging, marking, back shots, lots of licking and drooling, slight cum eating, mc and th are both pervs, mention of greening out, multiple sex scenes, first time as a couple, harassment, minor violence (punching), lots of profanity, argument, protection is used <3, use of term ‘girlfriend’ and fem terms, btw some details may not align with the other one shot

★ word count: 17.6k

☆ dedicated to: @vividl3ss for reading n loving this story just as much as i do <33 & a very very late happy birthday to taehyun <3 soft tapioca pearled encyclopedia gym cat squirrel tyun, you are so loved!

★ playlist: feel free to listen and/or read

every now and then, you catch yourself in the past, hung up on the memories or the events that led you to where you are here and now. the arrangement of thoughts stem from a good place, preceding an even better situation. the thin sheet of sweat on your bare skin cools you down completely. with your temple resting on firm muscle, you hear taehyun’s heartbeat against the shell of your ear. it winds down little by little. your cheeks still run hot and your parted lips let loose the flow of your lingering panting. it had only taken three rounds to get you to where you are now. somehow, as much as your limbs feel like gelatin, deep down, the hot magma of arousal still rolls like a tide in your core, burning hot and unsatiated. it might take more than that today. unbeknownst to you, taehyun’s eyes are fixed on you, like always, lifting a hand to rub up and down your naked back. with the way things are now, including the way taehyun intends on keeping them in his own, secretive but planned way, you couldn’t imagine not being with him now. 

back then, however, the existence of you and him together seemed eons into the abyss of impossiblity.

the only reason his presence was even in your orbit was due to the undeniable crush you had been harboring on him since your second year. 

it was not until a year later that you were actually introduced. the night you two met was at some party that your friends went to. your friends were beomgyu and kai, who comprised the other two roles of your trio that had been going strong since your freshmen year. you had met beomgyu at orientation. within the first few weeks, you also met kai, who had been dual enrolled. it was a perfect friendship. the chemistry between you all was undeniable with the overlap of shared interests, compatible personalities, and charm, but the main thing that glued all three of you had to be pot. it was clear from the start that beomgyu was well connected and great with people, every single kind, including his plugs. kai on the other hand was less social and more laidback. you fit right in with their little group. there was also soobin and yeonjun, but you were still a bit shy around them as they were both upperclassmen. 

the social butterfly beomgyu was, it was inevitable for him to befriend anyone. he knew better than to formally introduce you to every single soul he encountered with you running a hyperbolized take on kai’s personality in terms of timidity and inept socialibility. but whenever beomgyu did introduce someone to you, you knew they were important. and this certain individual he was about to introduce to you just so happened to be –

“y/n! come’ere! come! come!” beomgyu’s chipper voice bled through the bass of the music that rattled the walls of which you were leaning against. it was a packed night. the air ran thick with humidity, sweat, and the breaths of too many people. outside, you, kai, and soobin were taking dabs with kai’s cute, little rig. all you’d wanted to do that night was get high anyway. everything ran slower after you smoke, as did the anxiety that came with being among so many people that you did not belong with. 

beomgyu was a bit more persistent than he usually was, not to mention the fact that for once he wasn’t high. this current state of your friend certainly warranted your attention. with all the fuss, soobin swatted his hand, grumbling to himself about something, unmoving, but it didn’t phase beomgyu what with his gaze that was set on yours. 

it meant something. it meant someone new. sharing a look with kai, he and you followed the elder, who all too eagerly led you back into the crowd, cutting through pairs, swiping past big groups before you had all ascended to the pleasantly quiet loft at the top of the stairs.

your eyes had grown heavy from that one hit, but it wasn’t something you hadn’t experienced before. what was new had to be the face that you were taking in this closely. one of the ceiling lights was broken inwards, a shard or two reflected the light starker than intended. the glow that surrounded this person pierced through the sleepy weight on your eyelids. it was your campus crush. 

as formalities exchanged, the weight of his eyes got to the point where they were too much for you to handle, so large and sharp. he’d changed his hair since the last time you’d seen him. it had been longer and chestnut, but his hair had not been the only thing that had transformed. his bulky build was far more prominent than you would have ever thought. you didn’t move your eyes away from him once or utter a single word. 

to your friends, you wore the same look that you would have when you were high and hopelessly trying to pretend that you weren’t. yeonjun and kai giggled into each other. you see, all four of them knew him, still so fresh in the friendship, but it was clear from the start that he would be a friend for life. beomgyu just couldn’t wait any longer to bring his two worlds together.

his silver chain disappeared into his thin shirt. his pretty skin was sun kissed. his raven hair was trim with an undercut, all so brand new in comparison to the last memories you’d of him. the past instances had all been sightings from around campus. the corner of his lips lifted with this smirk that you didn’t catch, all too focused in his eyes. 

it was last semester when you’d last seen him. that late night at the gym led to you encountering him and for some god forsaken reason, you could never get away from him – not that you really wanted to. his muscle shirt revealed his muscles flexing. his back was turned to you, but the mirrored walls only fueled the instances of eye contact you’d make. he smirked, watching you watch him. his hair had been a faded out gray or smoky blue. it seemed he changed just about every time you saw him. 

but, you were somewhat oblivious, and even now, high as ever.

“holy shit, kai, how much did she take?” beomgyu was baffled, waving a hand in your face that finally ripped your red tinted gaze from your crush. kai was a mess, falling into yeonjun, who had a sloshing beer in his hand. chatter was whizzing and zooming over your head as your mind fought to keep up with the messy pace of it all. your sheepish heart followed behind from its own distance.

“huh, what?” you said, quick as ever (not). the man before you chuckled at that. a cold rush of anxiety shuddered down your spine at this introduction. 

“i said i’m taehyun, and you are?” he inched close for this interjection. your heart pounded in your ears, swallowing a dry lump borne of your cotton mouth. so, you answered him. 

in acknowledgement, he blinked before closing in a little more, tilting his ear to you, so you could repeat yourself. 

when you did just that, he grinned. and this time, you met his dimple. the one. oh, he instantly had you. you were done for. down by your sides, your palms grew clammy. just like that, that sweet moment of proximity died. he moved back just one step, standing up straight, but the notes of woods and amber, something richer far beneath them, lingered in the air. it only made you all the more entranced.

“sorry, tae, didn’t know she’d be this zooted.” you heard beomgyu apologize on your behalf, and everyone laughed again. you laughed, too, even if you didn’t feel like it. taehyun’s close proximity to you fucked with your heartbeat. was this all a sick joke? was everyone in on the fact that he was your crush? you’d never even said a word about it, but you were at a level of high that petered towards paranoia. 

“you guys want any drinks before we go?” yeonjun asked, which perked your attention towards him. you never left this early. “huh, where are we going?” you ask.

“to the gas station. maybe get some snacks. we’re stopping by to visit my guy~” beomgyu answered gleefully. kai’s ecstatic squeal rang distantly. 

something in your stomach flipped, and it wasn’t just the butterflies from being next to the hottest guy you’d ever seen. the lights above your head dangled, as though they were ones that hung down, when the reality was that they were in the ceiling, fixed ones, at that. your head was spinning slightly. a whirlpool of nausea turned in the pit of your stomach. oh, so it’s not just a crush. it’s –

“hey, you don’t look too good.” taehyun spoke from somewhere beside you, in a direction unknown, since your eyes shut. him saying that hurt your feelings a little bit. thanks, you wanted to say, but instead of pushing him away or turning, you accepted the arm he offered. his muscles were more than definition: firm and taut. 

it certainly wasn’t your first time greening out. that’s the conclusion you come to. you’d taken a short break from smoking, about a week or so, since your grades had dropped and you had to work your ass to get caught up. it was a short, depression period anyway. it explained why taking a dab felt like more than you could handle. 

“i feel kinda sick, you guys.” you managed, trying to salivate, but it only fueled the tide in you. your skin had paled yet flushed with sweat. taehyun let you lean on him more, welcoming your weight onto his side. his hand on the small of your back did wonders for you through the haze.

the guys moved around you, talking amongst themselves, trying to get you to further communicate, asking what would feel better, accommodating each movement with your responses. you were maneuvered down the stairs and helped onto the couch. with them helping you, the crowd parted and gave you room to breathe in. and through it, somehow, taehyun remained by your side. it threw you off.

he’d administer water that one of your friends had fetched for you. you mumbled for him to help you lay down, so he did. you asked him to move your hair, so he did. 

after an hour or two, clarity broke through and you no longer were outnumbered by your symptoms. the music refocused, bass aligning with the treble, and you were back. when you sat up, the crowd had lessened, but the party was still unfurling.

“damn, what time is it?” 

from the other side of the couch, taehyun’s chuckle jolted you, earning your attention. a bud light was in his hand, the can wet from the condensation, and damn if that smile didn’t make you wanna swoon. he turned his upper body, bringing his arm over the top of the couch. in the dim light, the shine of perspiration became more pronounced. after all, the packed room and the humidity made it warm in here, but he was by far the hottest. this was the closest you’d been to one of your crushes. 

with his undershirt hung low on his chest, the inked edges of a tattoo peaked out. the pattern and fine lines of the ink piqued your curiosity too much. taehyun easily caught you eyeing him, biting his tongue with a smile. 

he had a fucking tattoo. 

“i have another one, if you wanted to look at them,” he said. of course, you didn’t catch that. you blinked at him before asking him to repeat himself with a “huh?” why did he find that so funny?

“i said i have another tattoo. did you wanna see them?” you almost wanna look around to verify that he’s talking to you, but you know damn well he’s intentional with every single word, look, and thing he says or does. even in the gym, he’d waste no time and burned through his routine efficiently. your weeks of “innocently” watching him proved so. but, it wasn’t stalking! 

he stretched his arms up over his head and you caught the way his hem lifted over his abs. you remembered a few beads of sweat trickling down his torso when it would happen, lifting weights high up over his head like clockwork. okay, maybe it was.

taehyun wasn’t stupid or heedless. oh, he was highly observant, not to mention amused by your reactions. 

“could i actually?” his grin widened. his canines were practically fangs. wow, he kept surprising you. he nodded, rising and reaching a hand out to you. you swallowed the lump down in your throat. 

“i think i’m okay to walk on my own.” you said, still taking it and letting him gently pull you up. he snorted, enjoying your developing antics around him. it was a nice change of pace, going from watching you dreamily steal glances to welcome him, even if you were still shaking off your nerves. “all better?” he asked, tone teasing. 

somehow, you both had wordlessly decided to go out on the porch. the bass reduced down, as did the number of partygoers. it was just you two out here.

“yeah, actually. you did a great job taking care of me, like you knew what to do, and it worked. thank you, by the way,” you smiled at him, leaning your back against the glass, sliding doors. the cool air ruffled through your hair and clothes. it hit the sheen of damp sweat on your skin, wracking a shiver or two out of you. he nodded, reciprocating your gratitude.

“it was no problem. i mean, i take care of beomgyu every now and then. you’re a piece of cake compared to him,” you understand the context, which is nowhere where your mind went. still, it was childish, feeling so giddy to hear him call you that. 

taehyun, on the other hand, knew what he meant. he chose his words incisively, smirking to himself as he finished the last of his beer. you really were a piece of cake with how you smelled, lovely aroma wafting in the air every time you moved, sweetened with your sweat. it piqued his attention. you made him curious. would you taste as decadent as you smell? 

maybe even more. 

when he had helped you down, your weight pressed into his body and his eyes could have fluttered. the shape of you, your plush body, flesh so pillowy and supple pressing into him. to think what that would feel like around his head… your thighs. those thick, luscious thighs. oh, he felt like a dick. he’d just met you for the first time. 

well, sorta. he remembered you from all those other times around campus and had known you from all the stories beomgyu and the guys would tell him. 

“yeah, but we just met. so, i wouldn’t call that easy,” you grieved, sighing a big sigh. taehyun set the can down on one of the spare tables that was across from you, leaning back onto it to maintain his eye contact with you. 

there was this immense gravity in between you, something you had not found before. something worth noting as a discovery, settling down to carefully understand the traverse being made around, and preserving with awls, chisels, brushes, maybe a rock hammer, and cameras, even. 

“what would you call it then?” he posed, less rhetorically, but more teasing. taehyun’s button up, which incidentally was being worn as the opposite of its name, slipped off his shoulder, exposing one muscular shoulder, warm against the cold backdrop of the pale porch behind him. 

your own zip up jacket seemed to like the idea enough to mirror him, sliding off your own shoulder. your jacket was zipped up, stopping at the swell of your chest, just below the neckline of your lacy top. it occurred to you that your outfits were similar. 

“i don’t know,” you stated, plain and simple, tilting your head and shrugging. that cocky smile of his softened with a snicker. “um, if you don’t mind me asking, where’s your other tattoo at? it’s not somewhere gross, is it?” 

he chuckled, shaking his head, fluidly moving towards you from his seat. 

“it’s on my back, don’t worry. you can get a close look if you want though.” he was ready to shrug off but stopped himself, hands at the buttons, watching you. his hesitance and patience put you at ease, an ooey-gooey kind that did a lot more than calm you, perhaps doing the opposite. a fire ignited in the pit of your tummy.

“could i see the one on your chest actually?” he obliged, nodding, and settling at an arm’s length away from where you stood. tugging down a bit on the neckline, his fingers slowly exposed the tattoo: a cyber-sigilism star with each point extending into flame imitations. it looked like it was on fire, long and pretty, on his skin, right above his heart. his pectorals were defined, chest muscular. the ink was dark as the night, pigmented so nicely against his tanned skin. 

full of outward nonchalance, you nodded. his eyes rested on you and drifted across your entire face, maybe dipping down, but those must be delusions. 

the chain sat so pretty on his skin. the way he presented himself to you, even in this minute way, did things to you. 

“like what you see?” the question came out teasing, but you registered the cadence with lightheartedness. you snickered and nodded, like you weren’t drooling.

“does it have a meaning? or is it just an accessory?” he let go of his shirt, letting it take its natural place over the ink. 

“when you put it that way, i guess you could call it an accessory, but yeah. it’s pretty. i think so anyway. it doesn’t mean anything, so, i’d figured that my mom and sister had less room to question me for it,”

“what? they don’t like tattoos?” he immediately shook his head, laughing. 

“absolutely not. my mom and dad were upset. my sister thought it was weird, but they both don’t care for it now. my other tattoo though… they hate that one. they think it’s stupid,” his smile faltered, melting bittersweetly on his warm face. 

“i’m sure it’s not. do you like it?” his eyes flickered back up to you, after his gaze had dropped briefly. 

“yeah. it’s just, it looks like a tramp stamp except it’s on my upper back. it’s got a heart in the middle. i like the look of it. i like the sex appeal. i like the statement of it.” you nod along to every word. it’s too late to go back and actually ask to see it, your random bout of anxiety tells you so. 

“then, that’s the only thing that matters. sounds cool. i think your first one is pretty. i’m sure the other one is, too.” you noted that taehyun’s smile was a constant throughout the night. 

“you’re also pretty.” taehyun said, getting closer and practically enclosing you against the door. you swallowed hard, a big lump in your throat, and a knot in your tummy.

“you are, too.” you said, sounding so sure, with your own smile. watching his eyes get big with a shatter of his cool resolve. it made you all too giddy. you were giggling into each other before it died down. his hand came up to lean against the wall beside you.

taehyun must have forgotten that you were still high because in response, you giggled really hard about it. it was like you couldn’t stop! you wanted so badly, but it couldn’t be helped. the muscles in your abdomen were getting worked out basically. he joined in on the infectious fit of laughter, before the moment resumed back, silence surrounding your atmosphere. 

“may i?” he asked, face ghosting over yours, and his ginger voice just above a whisper. 

“yeah. please.” was all you’d gotten in before he finally moved in for the kill, pressing you against the cold glass. 

fuck the excavation of whatever this moment was. all you knew was that he was kissing you, and you were more than okay with that. 

one of his hands lifted up to cup your face and the other rested on your waist, pinning you to the cold surface behind you. everything about him invaded you. the weight of his pillowy lips, the taste of him, his hands on you, the drag of his mouth on yours, hot breaths teetering onto soft sighs from his throat, it all electrified you. everything already felt nerve deep because of the drug, but when it all became taehyun, you craved more and more. you pressed a little more on him. your senses were tingling. every brush of him against you had you preening, you gasped into his mouth. his thumb worked at your skin in motions. could he hear how loud your heart was beating, too? it was humiliating how shameless you were.

your hand was on him now, yanking the front of his undershirt to pull him closer, because this – whatever this was – wasn’t close enough. the fire in the pit of your belly swirled something harder, more tangible that you bucked your hips for. you needed him. that cologne of his only made you more intoxicated, body heat so warm it radiated and doubled your own, the other hand settled on his hip. when you felt the seam of his hot tongue on yours, your own unrestrained arousal, which was clearly goaded on by the high that sought more of this gratification, you realized you were shaking. drool began to collect around your mouths, a bit of it running down your chin. taehyun slurped at one point, and you made a sound you’d never made before in this kind of situation.

“ahh, fuck!” your voice was muffled. the exchanges were so hot in contrast to the cool of the night. your heart pounded in your ears. distantly, your noises grew more frequent, stuttering, and soon, the brief instances of trying to catch your breath were not enough. here, like this, it must have been minutes, you didn’t know. you were panting so hard.

taehyun parted from your lips with a grunt in the space between. in slight, deep breaths, they filtered across your now swollen lips. his round, wide pupils were dark with the night and lust that coursed through his veins. his hand drifted down your neck before he drew up one of yours, bringing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. 

your knees wobbled so bad you had to lean against the glass. how did he do that?

“you alright there?” he had the gall to ask. 

“mhm.” was all you could manage. assessing all that had occurred, without any idea or measure of the time, the connection between you, the fire he lit up within you, you easily were overwhelmed. the attraction was something however you didn’t feel quick to question. your curious eyes caught the tent in his pants. in fact, the very-much-there shape of it wasn’t something you could ignore, but you had to, looking back up at him with widened eyes.

“how about we sit down, hm?” meekly, you obliged, taking his hand and letting him steer you to one of the short, flat ledges on the patio’s margins. 

nearly every part of your body seemed to have a heartbeat, thrumming, so you welcomed the change of pace. it surprised you. you observed that taehyun was not uncomfortable with your vulnerability, or maybe he hid it so well. he was calm, unthreatened by your rocky seas, even if this was your faded state. 

“are you sure you’re alright? can i get you water or anything?” his flurry of questions resonated just as softly as sleet. it was sweet. he made you smile. “no, i’m good, actually. thank you, though.” he nodded, alternating his footing. you stole a peek again; how had it still not gone down?

“of course. happy to help,” a quiet fell around you. the music’s volume had significantly dropped, but still pounded the walls of the big house beside you. a breeze filtered through your clothes and hair. “you know, i remembered you as soon as i saw you tonight.”

the thought of him recognizing and identifying you, picking you out from a crowd, having a name and face to put to the memories he’d been given… why did that turn you on? 

“you did? that’s crazy!” you burst into a fit of giggles. “where did you even remember me from?”

“well, all those times you were obviously watching me from afar, at the gym, around campus, in the student hall... who could forget those eyes? so curious…” he smirked as he spoke. his smugness curved his tone. oh, fuck no, this wasn’t happpening.

“oh… no, tae-taehyun, it wasn’t, i wasn’t, it’s not what it looks like!” he reached an arm over to settle on your other side, leaning in your face, easily crossing over the threshold that had been so close to resuming as a barrier between two people who had just been introduced to each other through a mutual friend. however, with the way his eyes practically ate you up, he hovered over you, easily shutting you up. you, who was casual and talkative. there was hardly an inch between you. 

“never said i didn’t like the attention, baby. think it’s cute coming from you.” you swallowed, nodding, trying to desperately salivate through the thick of your dry mouth. 

“okay.” you said for no particular reason. he chuckled, leaning back, looking so casual, unlike your hammering heart. the proximity he’d given you just now had ended as soon as it had started. 

“so, i’ve been at this school the past four years, and i’ve only recalled you for the last two. how long have you been going here? beomgyu says you’re a third year. can i ask what it is that you’re studying?” 

his interest shocked you way more than it needed to. from there, you realized conversation was surprisingly very easy with him. it flowed so easily, back and forth, with pauses mainly on your end when you had trouble recalling certain bits of information led to you. he was patient with you. the engagement and absorption he possessed for you caught you off guard every now and then, especially considering the fact that you two had been sucking face and feeling each other up not too long ago. he talked about how he came to know your friends, chunks of his life, which included his family and other passions, and only did so on volition upon learning about you, or at least however much you shared. 

you had started the same year as beomgyu. taehyun was the same year as you, but considering how many credits he took each semester, he was fast tracked to finish school a lot sooner than you or beomgyu. in your defense, you had taken a year off after your first, even then, you had taken a gap year. you were about two years older than taehyun. even if his accomplishments were clear as day, he didn’t make you feel bad about yourself at all, genuinely interested in what you were studying. 

“i don’t know. at the end of the day, i’m not even sure what i can do with my degree or what i actually would do,” your tone slowly turned into unease, and taehyun caught it immediately. 

“it depends on what you want to do. there’s something i know your heart must want. it’s easy to feel like you’re not sure what you can do with it. i know we don’t even know each other like this yet, but you can do it. i believe in you. we can both be confused together and help each other. does that sound good?” he asked so softly into the night, snickering at your stunned, cloudy little expression. 

“yet?” you eyed up at him, hindering the words he thought would have been most important. he laughed at that. 

“yet.”

taehyun was so easy to talk to and with. besides the ease that it took to communicate, there was also this desire that made you want to keep talking, want to know more, want to dig deeper, and that must have explained why the hours passed by within what felt like minutes. it was nearly five in the morning when beomgyu called taehyun, who put him on speaker, and demanded to know where you both were. 

you both shyly giggled, reporting that you were in the same spot. 

taehyun walked you out and with you to get in beomgyu’s cute, little car where everyone was packed in. just to hotbox. it was small and compact, meaning you had to somewhat get on taehyun’s lap, which he definitely enjoyed, considering the semi consistently under your ass. you turned your head and offered him from the roll up, to which he shook his head. you asked him one more time, and his hand found its way onto your side, clutching onto your fleshy hip. you gasped and he gave a smug little smile. he promised he was sure. 

kai was devouring his mexican pizza from taco bell in the very back. everyone was having so many conversations at the same time, only two of the windows slightly cracked open, all of them foggy. 

the implication of it all hung in the air between you two. taehyun’s hand pressed into you when you rolled your hips a little. 

when the sun started to rise, beomgyu decided to drop you all off, one by one. you and taehyun stayed chatting in the back the entire time, lost in your own little world. 

when it was time for you to go, taehyun gave you this knowing smile and kissed your cheek. “sleep tight.” he said as you hopped out the car. yeah, you were done the moment you’d collided, and it was taehyun who had solidified it. 

following that night, your regard for taehyun had changed. the events or actives between you were definitely accountable for such a shift, but how could you  not? especially when taehyun encouraged you to do whatever your heart desired with him. 

certainly, a part of of you desired an answer as to why he was so down with you, all of you. the bigger part, however, didn’t want to throw this away. you’d crushed on him for so long, and with his addition to the group, it was like everything got better. he studied hard outside of parties. he coached kickboxing on the side. he had a good, part time job aside from his paid internship for his major. 

it hadn’t intensified. your hopeless crush had loosened, letting you breathe a bit, but it only surrounded you more, this strange flurry of unprecedented giddiness, adrenaline, unfettered lust, if you could call it that. taehyun was on the same page as you, however. this bubble between you would remain that way. if people got involved, it would get messy. full disclosure: all you did was explore your attraction with each other and as you did so, you got to know taehyun better. after all, he became a part of your beloved friend group. it had been a month into your friendship when finals came around. at least at first it was the case. an open, unofficial sexual relationship that also existed on the same tangent as friendship. friends with benefits? friends who benefited from making out and sexually fantasize about each other? 

you didn’t know what you were, but you were sure you were friends at the end of the day. 

during winter break, the group became inseparable. it was one of the happiest times of your life: so carefree, in control for once, and fuck, it was like you were riding a double edged high all at once. once the group chat had been started, you and taehyun accessed each other’s numbers through there. talking about each other’s classes turned to learning each other’s schedules, gaps in each other’s schedule turned to opportunities to spend time with each other. you and taehyun would have study sessions during the day right after your classes. you learned a lot about yourself through your fun with taehyun. he helped you, actually. 

the man single-handedly made you so desperate you accepted his help studying. of course, when it all began, you were skeptical. maybe he thought you were stupid, maybe he wanted to mock you, maybe he wanted to mansplain and got off on thinking he was smarter than every girl, but then, he proved you wrong. 

when it came down to studying, he asked if it was okay for him to do his homework with you, asking if you’d taken this class before, etc. the place to study and do homework together was actually a cafe, which soon became a favorite of yours. he’d buy your drinks and let you have the booth side of the table. he was a gentlemen in every step of the way. 

one late, baked night, you were at yet another party, smoking outside with your friends. taehyun stood next to you with his red solo cup of whatever fuckass beer he always drank, over one of the beach chairs you sat in. everyone minus taehyun was super high already, you and kai were just below their level, passing a joint between the other, but that was the only thing that was keeping your semblance and sanity together. 

taehyun had been training for his boxing matches. ‘child’s play’ he liked to call it, never one to even openly invite his friends to his matches, too shy to do it. with that established, it was why taehyun had been bulking like crazy, always coming back from practice or ready to go after your hangouts. this time, he was wearing clothes he’d wear to gym, his skin flush, as he was definitely still cooling down from his previous session. only reason he hadn’t showered yet was because you picked him up straight from the gym, convincing him through text to hang out at a party first. he saw right through you. 

even on the ride back, you tugged at his shoulder, sheepishly asking, “could we do something later?” 

“like what, sweetheart?” he teased, wanting you to use your words.

(the back and forth ended with you shyly and exasperatedly telling him you wanted him, in your mouth, his mouth on you, inside, etc. his pretty eyes only grew inches, blinking, blushing, and he agreed. ‘we’ll see if you remember how much you need me then’, he said when he got off your car.)

of course, you’d remembered. hours in, you were horny as fuck, wanting nothing more than to be all over him since the moment you’d even woken up that day. his raw scent fresh from the gym, practical pheromones mixed with his cologne, were far more prevalent than needed. it wasn’t fair at all. 

“you can have the last of it, y/n,” kai yawned, stretching his arms over his head, and letting you gladly finish the joint off. taehyun smirked, watching your face light up with the roach in your hand like someone won a lollipop. 

“guys, i wanna order pizza.” beomgyu suddenly confessed, looking around.

everyone seemed to agree and plans for acquiring pizza were started. some looking at places that were delivering or that were even open at all. it was three am, so the chances of finding anything were little to none. 

you and taehyun didn’t move. you were spaced out, letting the last of your blunt fall. taehyun moved to step over it to kill it, leaning down to ask, “you alright there, baby?” in your ear, gravel whisper only detected by your sensitivity. it wracked a shiver down your spine. you met his eyes slowly, so unashamed at how you carefully inspected and gazed over his every feature, even going so far as to look at his body. 

‘need you’ was all you could mouth. the movement of your lips only stirred his further arousal, needing that mouth to be wrapped around his cock. how could taehyun resist that look?

“since we’re not finding any delivering, um, guys, what if we drove an hour to pick up the only one that’s open, hmmm?” beomgyu announced, gleeful grin on his face, directly looking at soobin, who sighed. soobin was neither drunk nor high since he arrived not too long ago to the party. yeonjun started hugging him from behind, trying to hype him up, and get him to agree to their plan that was locked in before anyone could disagree. 

“fine! but when you’re all sober, you owe me pizza when i’m not. only fair that way.” they all cheered. you laid back in your beach chair, trying to calm down, trying not to squeeze your thighs together, trying not to feel taehyun’s warmth right beside you. 

“hey, jun,” you called out since he was the second closest to you. he turned to you, inquisitively, and lowering to listen. “i’m gonna stay back if that’s okay. don’t feel like being in a car right now.” your confession made him nod. yeonjun was so kind and quick to take care of you. taehyun watched silently, starting to brood over how easily the elder was on you. 

“hey, how about i stay back, yeonjun? don’t feel like being in a car either. cool to stay and take care of y/n.”

your little friend group was already going inside to leave, but yeonjun stayed, ensuring that you and he, more like everyone, was okay with what was said. you gave yeonjun a smile. 

“alright, just make sure she gets taken care of. we’ll be back with pizza, guys~!” with that, yeonjun was off, taking a few drinks from the coolers near the sliding doors before he was gone, leaving you two out on the patio. 

a good beat of silence filled the space between you until taehyun turned to look down at you with a smirk on his face. you gulped as his hand found its way to cup your jaw. “you were saying?” he asked, curious himself as to what you could want to do. what he could do for you. you looked so pretty, makeup half smeared off and melting into your soft features. 

“can we go to the bathroom?” you mumbled and he leaned in, raising his eyebrow more. you repeated yourself a little louder, making him chuckle. 

“sure, baby.” he linked fingers with you, helping you up and leading you through the lingering partygoers to the bathroom with a hand on your lower back. you could have moaned out there if you didn’t have some self restraint. 

when he opened the door, he guided you in, so you could walk in first. taehyun was about to close the door without him inside, but then you called out his name. 

“wait, taehyun…” you spoke up quietly, standing with your legs close together. “want you in here.” he hadn’t ever seen you simultaneously shy and bold at the same time. something about you like this made him wild.

he obliged, stepping in and closing the door behind himself, arching an eyebrow. those red, heavy eyes of yours beamed with your smile. that smirk of his made you giggle some more.

“now, what, hon?” he asked, feeling you lean forward and he rounded his arms on you, arm folded over your soft supple curves. you reached upwards for a kiss, and oh, taehyun’s heart leapt out of the solar system and into a black hole. 

he reciprocated easily, so easily, leaning down to return it. it started out sweet, passionate, and fun. you were eager, as ever, but taehyun reveled with how quickly you got nasty with it. the kisses grew heavy, wet even. his hands land on your sides, caressing the skin. 

“shit, sweetheart,” his breaths were heavy, filtering through your open mouth. “what do you need, baby?”

each inhale and exhale was done so shakily. it was the slight hint of voice in your breaths that made him get harder and harder. what really did it for him, giving him a near painful erection was — 

your hand slipped under his shirt and rubbed pathetically at his abs, pawing. 

“fuck, i’ll just guess then,” he purred, slight lilt to his deep moans. it made you moan, too, from deep in your throat.

soon, the shirt was scrapped. back and forth led you to move on your knees, hushed consent, whispered into heated ears, asking if it was okay to give him head. however, on the way down, you couldn’t help but kiss down his chest, licking and moaning against his skin.

“want your mouth here, didn’t you, baby? oh, you’re so nasty it’s so fucking hot, fuck. my nasty girl. so desperate,” you whimpered as you trailed marks and kisses. your dazed eyes dreamily were stuck on his, as you moved from his shoulder to his pectorals to his abs to his side. “you just want to trace my body with your tongue. god, you’re so messy and nasty. all for me… aren’t i so lucky?”

when your hand played with his nipple, he squeaked, ears and cheeks darkening beautifully. at this rate, though, all he could do was throw his head back, knocking against the door, groaning. 

your hands played with the waistband of his gym shorts, and despite the cotton mouth, you found yourself beginning to drool all over his abs, down his hard length that you took out. 

“oh, this is what you wanted, huh? when you said you needed me… this was what you meant, right? y/n, shit… won’t keep you waiting any longer then, sweetheart. go ahead. take what you need, baby.”

you found yourself unprecedentedly excited seeing and feeling him in your hands. you even spit down the base, red tinged eyes looking up and stroking, moving to start licking at the tip. taehyun’s noises were warbled and high pitched with this throaty edge to it that only made you wetter and wetter. with every passing second that you took him in and the harder your head bounced on his cock, you took matters into your own hands, one of them literally undoing your own jeans, pushing aside your damp panties, to play with your messy self. the gagging of him deep in your throat made you moan weakly, the vibrations only made him get further stimulated. fuck. he was going crazy. 

watching from above, taehyun could only groan loudly, involuntarily bucking his hips into your mouth. time moved slowly for you, movements even more embellished and lingering. taehyun wanted to cum so badly but felt so aroused he burned to keep feeling this, trying his best to hold off. 

“fuck, y/n, oh my, fuck. you’re so fucking — ah!” he groaned into the air. “fuck, i’m gonna cum! fuck! come on, sweetheart, you gotta pull off!” his lungs seized, and it was the hand on your jaw so gently pulling you off that brought you out of your trance. you pulled back, heaving, and watching as he came all over his fist. the prettiest, quivering sounds and sight unfolded before all of you. 

taehyun leaned back completely onto the door, catching his breath, and stroked until there was nothing left to give. so pretty, you thought, the way he clutched himself. your fingers were still very much buried inside you. he looked down at you and closed his eyes shut, cursing under his breath.

“fuck, do you want me to cum again?” he asked and you laughed, as if you weren’t playing with yourself. “can i take care of you, too, baby? hmm? looks like… you need a hand…” 

taehyun haphazardly cleaned himself up, knowing he was probably going to have to do it again later. 

the bathroom was growing steamy and foggy, as if you were showering. it made you both feel filthier and filthier, but somehow you reveled in it. 

taehyun then had you seated on the counter, legs spread, face buried between them. as soon as he had stripped your lower half, taehyun groaned at the sight. your resolve was pushed to have your back against the mirror.

sweet words and praise dropped from his lips as he blew air on your wetness. those alluring, grand eyes of his stared up at you, smirk spreading. he reached down, kissing your inner thighs. he had a meticulous pre-oral ritual, but the reason you found it somewhat strange was that you had never been taken care of like this. sure, when it was just you jerking it, you knew you needed foreplay. when it came to experiences with others, they had all been careless, as if the slightest bit of wetness was the green light to be intruded. a few had even just never cared about how you felt entirely. 

taehyun knew what the fuck he was doing. sucking alongside his fingers, bringing his mouth close to spit gently, playing with your clit, adjusting to your body language and what you said felt good, making you wetter, easing his finger in once you said you were ready — at this point, you were moaning lowly, squirming, and clutching at the wall for stability. once he had your legs spread wide, he couldn’t help but start a rhythm, eyes looking up from his knees at your face. with your lip tucked by your teeth, your strained sounds remained muffled in your throat, heavy breathing, hips slightly bucking against his face, trying to grind against his mouth, nose beginning to rub on your clit with each punctuated move. 

“ahh!” it spilled out, head thrown back and taehyun groaned against you, the vibrations further stimulating. taehyun’s external stimulation was making you so incredibly wet and sensitive, you didn’t think you could last any longer. 

“can feel you getting close. fuck, y/n, so reactive and pretty for me. taste so good, so warm, shit, look at you, you like this, baby?” he spoke against your sticky flesh, the wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out, the feeling itself, thicker longer digits stretching you far better than you ever could by yourself, making you clench and whimper at how filthy everything was. 

“mmh, love it, tae, gonna cum!” you let out a hiccupy cry, panting hard, hands trying to find purchase on the wall despite the humidity. a part of you feared he would do the thing… slow down, go faster, change rhythm, pull out, etc. they always did that and ruined the orgasm altogether. why did they always do that? 

“do it, baby, cream all over my fingers. want to see you fall apart. so pretty. i’d die a happy man making you cum so prettily and feel so good. so good, pretty girl, so good.”

but, you don’t expect for him to bring you to cum so fast and hard, very hard. it felt like a freight train hit you. your breath was stolen and instead, all you could do was muster a weak sob, gasping for air once you fell down the initial high, trembling and whimpering weaker and quieter, spilling all over his fingers, clamping on them, rutting on his fingers and the lower half of his beautiful tanned face until your movements ceased altogether. 

that was probably your first good orgasm from someone besides yourself. 

taehyun pulled away with a huge grin, lips shiny in the low light, groaning at the sight and feeling of his fingers slowly, gently pulling out. you gasped and laid back. taehyun licked what he could. as he stood up, you expected him to immediately give you a tissue or something else, but instead, he leaned in towards you, hands on your waist, breath fanning over your face. 

“wanna taste yourself, baby?” he whispered. you nodded, delirious. done for. taehyun eased in to kiss you, licking into your mouth and doing so passionately. you could taste it all. his saliva and your juices. the idea should have made you think ‘ew’ but it made you melt even more into it. 

“pretty girl, you did so good. did that feel good?” he asked once he pulled away to catch his breath. you were nose to nose. 

“yes, jesus christ.” you laughed at how he asked. did your pathetic orgasm not give away how amazing that was? he laughed with you. 

“did you like…that…? i didn’t want you to feel like you had to go down on me…” you got shy again. taehyun loved it. he sighed with a tender smile, cupping your face. 

“i loved it. watching you fall apart like that is like the cherry on top.” he said. 

“really?” he grinned and kissed your nose. “really.”

taehyun gently cleaned you up from there, helping you off the counter, sliding you, which made you giggle like crazy into his chest. he found wipes and gently cleaned you. you both cleaned, realizing this may not have been the first nor the last orgasm in this very space. as you both finished fixing each other up, beomgyu called you. over speakerphone, he notified you that they were back with the pizza and they stopped at taco bell, asking if you wanted anything. you got so excited and happy that taehyun had to take over, your unintelligible noises being deciphered out by him. 

regrettably, it must have been a lot better than you expected. your legs were wobbly and you suddenly felt like you’d been starved. so, when the guys returned with so much food, you sat outside wrapped in a blanket, seated next to taehyun, who couldn’t help the smug look on his face. you ate and you ate. yeonjun was even confused, “damn, y/n, did you get sick before we got here?” you shook your head and quietly continued feasting with a dopey grin. taehyun thought this sight, after what you could describe was the best orgasm of your life, was something he could never get tired of. 

it was a good night.

a week later, the day after you failed one of the exams taehyun had helped you study for, you told him the news, notifying him that you would be skipping class to go get a tattoo. breakdown moment. 

taehyun found the fact that you told him and let him in on this to be equivalent to the way one of the gears unlocks when a key is being turned. he was in one of his classes. his do not disturb was set, but you’re one of the few exceptions that he allowed notifications for. he pondered it, contemplated and decided within five seconds, that he would ditch his next class, too. taehyun grabbed his things and left during the break of his three hour class, the intermission in which his professor would take a smoke break. 

taehyun joined you that day. a few nights prior, while playing games on your game cube, in your room, high as fuck, you were in the midst of a ramble and you had confessed how you had wanted a tattoo since you’d graduated high school. he knew you. 

so, he turned up to the tattoo parlor you said you were at, standing in the entrance like your savior, smiling wide, big eyes gleaming. taehyun waited with you and sat with you while you got your tattoo, a spiky heart, pretty and colored, holding your free arm, fingers locked with his. 

at the unprecedented pain of being inked for your first time, all you could do was press your face into his shoulder. he had used his other hand to rub up and down in soothing motions. 

then, it was all done. a spiky heart right on your left shoulder. something that looked cute and felt right. taehyun made a friend out of the tattoo artist while he helped you from the chair, talking his ear off as he even paid for it. he ran you through the aftercare of the healing process. taehyun also made sure to be gentle with you every time you’d meet up, as well. 

every other sunday, you would help taehyun train for his matches by working out, fetching water for him, helping him do sets and counting with him, and just watching sometimes as you cooled down. taehyun chose the best times, too, so there weren’t too many prying eyes. he respected that the environment in gyms made you anxious and was quick with making accommodations. 

the less people only made it easier for you both to ogle each other’s bodies. taehyun’s tattoo on his muscular upper back rippling, sweat sliding down the one on his chest, lifting his shirt to blow air on him when he got too hot… he enjoyed too much the swells, crests, troughs of each curve on your body flexing and sometimes shaking, eager smile and funny remarks from your mouth while working out. he had to cool with how his stares lingered, not at all wanting to publicly look like a creep. the way your supple flesh jiggled, too, when it came to certain movements on the machines, oh… he felt crazy. as a joke, you even signed him up for a zumba class, but he actually got excited. 

he was just there for you in every way, shape, and form. it made you so stupidly happy, but, even with the girls you talked to, as giddy as they, too, would feel when hearing your stories and things that taehyun would do for you, there was still this part of you that wouldn’t wallow and enjoy it fully. in the end, none of it meant anything. he didn’t call you his girlfriend. you didn’t call him your boyfriend. neither of your friends knew. the knowledge of this slowly took a toll on you.

it didn’t feel right hiding and for what sake? getting dick? your heart was tired and ached. he probably thought of you as just another body. the thing that troubled you about this was what made you think otherwise. he made it known to you that you were friends, that you were cared for, that you were someone with value. 

taehyun brought food over every time he came over or would make a scheduled delivery whenever you would come by his place when everyone was out. taehyun even took it upon himself to prepare food and water for you, especially at those stupid parties you both attended. he kissed you when no one was looking, smiling against your lips, and caressing your face. 

but, you knew more than anything how boys were. you could be treated the very best, made to feel so good, do all the intimate things relationships entail, and they would still pull the rug from under you to tell you that they have a girlfriend, that they aren’t ready for a relationship, etc. you knew better than to believe any of it, but the foundation of friendship you had sure made it a lot harder to distinguish fantasy from reality. 

taehyun’s pace was unfettered, feverish, desperate. the speed and accuracy with every thrust, the grip on your hips, his hissed fuming from between his gritted teeth were all but evidence of it. your arms, flesh moistened by the  sweat across the entirety of your skin, weakly did their best to brace and hold you up against the bathroom counter. the same bathroom of the same house where all the parties took place, music so loud it bled through the crack under the thick wooded door. 

you and taehyun had only just arrived, too, after picking him up from his training at his gym. it was just like every other day. it felt like it, too. 

he had greeted you when he hopped in your car, kissing your cheek then your lips, brushing your hair back, examining you with a warm smile. you had tried not to show how much the heat and fatigue of the situationship was getting to you. you wanted him so bad, wanted so bad to be more than just a body, but to make something worth all of this, to confirm the undeniable love between you that you could only hide, like it was some painful secret. maybe taehyun caught on. maybe he didn’t. 

nonetheless, your interactions in the car didn’t change the fact that taehyun was giving you the backshots of your life. 

your own thighs trembled, doing their best to withstand such a momentum. his swollen balls snapped against your puffy clit. that knot deep inside was beginning to uncoil, so full of heat it was boiling over, “feels mmm really mm good! ahh, taehyun, taehyun, ahh!” was just about all you could make out through your clenched teeth and harsh panting. 

“taking me so fucking good, so fucking pretty! needed me to take care of you so bad? fuuuck, y/n!” 

he found the array of hickeys he left on your shoulder blades and a touch behind your neck so fucking hot he felt molten practicaly, not to mention the slightly dark tinge of color on your ass from the smacks he had not let back on. taehyun could not help himself when you were so pliant, so beautiful and wanting someone like him. feeling wanted did something to him in ways he almost couldn’t understand. 

you were even closer now, more like you had been throttled towards the finish line. taehyun could feel it, too. your body’s reactions were much louder than your pathetic cries. it was a lot, so good, mind full to the brim of him, just like your insides. shakily, taking control, through whimpers, you reached one of your hands back over your back, unable to convey what you wanted before your conscious even wanted to, but taehyun knew. his hands found yours, locking in a grip, pulling your body forward to meet his thrusts, shoving his cock deeper and deeper. 

it had reached that point where you were both on the brink of falling apart. taehyun decided to lift up one of your legs and lay it up over the counter, reaching it even deeper, ramming your sweet, worn out spot. a scream squeezed through your dried out throat at the change in angle and precision. his free hand found your clit to rub with a heavy thumb, smaller but harsher thrusts, until you came apart over his cock so violently. 

your hips bucked, thick thighs jiggling as the muscles underneath rippled, the longest, softest cry tumbled out through your drooly lips. your sounds were punctuated by each of his own, unraveling thrusts, going harder and harder, the smack of skin and his light grunts so high up in your space of sensations, your hands underneath visibly were sprawled to keep up, your weak insides, erratically pulsing around him, in a way that made every part of him want to explode. coming deep in his condom was enough. feeling the weight of his body on your lower half made you continue to clench around him.

just when you felt ready to sink down onto the clammy counter, taehyun was quick to wrap his arms around your front, bringing you up into his embrace. as he tried to catch his breath, all you could hear and feel were his hot, heavy breaths hitting the shell of your ear. such rich sounds that you could hear more clearly, not grated by the strenuous task of fucking someone, they now sounded like purrs. 

having his strong arms tightly wrapped you close into him, so intimately, almost made you feel like you hadn’t quite left that high. you lifted your head after some time, looking up in the mirror to realize you have the biggest, fucked out smile on your face. the mirror is somewhat fogged up, the light sheen of the walls and their humidity because of everything. taehyun also looked up, following your gaze, and cracked the cutest, sweetest laugh. as his hands followed to rub your hips, lowering your leg back down, he reached to give you a kiss on your cheek.

“how are you feeling, y/n? did that feel good? hm? because you were so good, so pretty for me, perfect as usual.”

“mmm, good. like, i just smoked a blunt,” that makes taehyun chuckle. “god, i could really go for a joint right now.”

he hummed, dipping down to kiss over some of the mark he had previously scattered, which made you melt even more. 

“let’s go then,” your eyes getting large were not missed at all by taehyun. “yeah?” you asked, shocked.

“yeah. that way, i can pick up some food on the way and we eat, anything you want, you can smoke, and most importantly, we can do whatever you want.” he gave you a grin, stroking your cheek with his thumb before you agreed, all too excited.

if he so much as pulled away, you and he both could feel that you weren’t quite done. even as he tried to separate and take care of you, the extra, affectionate smack on your ass made you give a short fall forward. 

from there, you and taehyun snuck out, ass still raw from the hits, even after he had kissed, rubbed, and cleaned you, giggling once the door shut behind you both. hand in hand, you went to your car, sharing messy, giddy kisses right before he helped you in the passenger seat. 

from there, you picked up food from your favorite restaurant that was open, taehyun adding an extra dessert at the pick up window.

that was how you ended up sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed, in taehyun’s room, in his and beomgyu’s apartment, sharing swipes of the dessert in between you with him, high as hell. you were dressed in a change of taehyun’s sweatpants and hoodie, sinking into the cloth, smiling dopily. he had helped you in the clothes, undressing you of your musty previous outfit, rubbing some of his lotion into your tired muscles, giving kisses all over his more prominent marks he left behind. 

all you could feel was peace, one that vibrated and thrummed just above the surface of your warmed skin. taehyun rubbed your shoulder and smiled at you.

“how are we feeling, y/n?” he laughed lightly. you nodded eyelids impossibly heavy, and clearly over the moon after having fulfilled your munchies. the biggest glass of water bottle also sat beside you, cold and refreshing. 

“like a caterpillar.” “oh. well, that’s new.”

you shared giggles and took another forkful of the sweet treat. taehyun grabbed a napkin to clean the corner of your mouth and chin. 

“yeah, hehe. like a caterpillar like the… at the fair, the rollercoaster?” you asked, tilting your head. taehyun smiled and shook his head. 

“can’t say i know what you’re talking about, baby.”

“exactly. also, i feel so good right now, like that caterpillar we were talking about earlier. you remember, right? i’m just so filled with joy and warmth like a piggy bank, like i want to get out of my crystal-my crishal-my, you know, the crysall… chrysalis but i can’t stay this way…” taehyun’s carefree smile slipped when he saw yours do the same. 

“what do you mean, y/n?” his voice was so soft. you nodded along to it. 

“when this moment ends, we have to go back to pretending and hiding. maybe it’s just me. i don’t want get back in my cocoon, i want to be out like a butterfly. i don’t wanna sneak around anymore. i want to be yours, i want all of this to mean something…” you gazed into his eyes, shimmering, and fond smile. “but, maybe the weed was a little too good and i’m reading too deep into that orgasm from earlier and the, you know, our friendship and the cooks who put their goddamn souls in the food you bought me. how do you feel? do you want to stay hiding? how do you feel about me?”

taehyun could only blink at you dreamily, eyes fluttering, time slowing down, running through the gates of this air vent of this building of life. his heart raced in his chest, pounding impossibly faster in his ears. do you even know that you were saying everything he had only dreamed of hearing?

“i want nothing more than to be yours and for you to be mine,” he whispered, eyes stinging while your smile simply grew. “did you know i like you more than a friend?” 

you blinked at him for a bit, eyes skimming his features, while he did the same for yours.

“i didn’t know that.” you answered, earning an amused, lighthearted hum.

“would you be okay if i wanted you to be my girlfriend?” he asked, that one dimple of his and his pearly fangs captivating your heart and attention. such a question, along with the very active high still in your body, made you giggle. 

“uh, i think i’d manage,” you teased, finding that all too funny. taehyun cupped your face, smiling so warmly. “would you be okay if i wanted you to be my boyfriend?” 

he snorted and mimicked your response, in the same tone and everything. soon enough, he leaned in completely to kiss you gently and passionately, swallowing down your soft, light noises. 

debuting your relationship to the guys came with the announcement via group chat: a picture of taehyun kissing your cheek, your red, heavy eyes and dopey smile, heightened by the brightness from the flash. with that, you also texted: guys guess what.

kai immediately responded with an ‘i knew it’. your relationship was met with joy and excitement, even some ‘finally’’s. apparently, beomgyu wanted you guys to get together from the start. yeonjun and soobin were over the moon for you two as you both explained that you had liked each other for some time. the girls in your circle celebrated with you, albeit with an impassioned, overdue impatience. 

taehyun was eager to be able to share the person who had been on his mind for so long, someone he had caught feelings for, someone who he was proud to call a friend and his girlfriend, someone who filled his whole being with joy. from there, you were inseparable, this time during the day moreso. 

he was just happy to be with you, wanting to bring you around everywhere, but once the first few days of euphoria washed, he eased up on such pda, leaving you slightly disappointed. it was like nothing had changed but with a bit more benefits, so you couldn’t complain. 

it amazed you how secure taehyun was with himself. sure, it rubbed off on you to some degree, but you found yourself feeling a bit opposite.

being out in the open, actually trying in school and job hunting made that vulnerability spiral into instability.

it was all fun and games until reality set in. nothing ever bothered you much since you smoked; it made you down to earth and truly instilled this barrier that prevented you from really taking things that people said about you to heart. and this wasn’t a bad thing, for the most part, but taehyun broke down such a wall. he helped you take a big step over the rubble and pushed you to get out of your comfort zone, even if that was what you were already trying to do for so long. 

it not only set up your once cloud perspective but made you hear everything a lot clearer. 

of course, taehyun paid no heed to whatever anyone said. college students, our big age, know at least to talk behind people’s back. at least most of them. when he introduced you to certain people, you recognized a handful, the ones that you’d caught showing some judgment over graduating late, not having a career plan, etc. he encouraged you not to listen to anyone, only yourself; he did this because he wanted you to not rely on him since, to him, you were laid back and always brushed off the bullshit.

taehyun liked holding your hand or linking arms if you ever walked around campus, or rather just about anywhere. his warm, round eyes possessed this glow about him every time he looked at you. this and his princess treatment for you only deepened your feelings for him. it was all good. everything was good with him.

despite that, your fears and insecurities had a little kick to them. it packed a fucking load.

it was another party night. you were actually showing up for the first time in a few weekends, either too embarrassed to leave your room or you were hanging out with taehyun elsewhere. tonight, you showed up together. 

those insecurities had reason, in their defense. you were older than your boyfriend, graduating late by a year, possibly. sure, this was the first time in a long time that you were trying, so of course, your efforts wouldn’t make you graduate alongside him.

then, you got the results of a test to get into a program you had gotten your hopes up to get into: fail. it hurt more since taehyun helped you study for it.

in fact, he was the only reason you decided to focus more on school. he reignited a passion you hadn’t seen since high school. 

you found your passion, devoted time to researching such a program that would help you achieve your career goal, paid for the entrance exam, studied for it on top of all your other classes, and the smartest person you could ever know helped you. but, you still failed.

this was why you didn’t like to try. this was why you liked being high all the fucking time, so you could ignore all your problems, your stupidity clear as fucking day. receiving such news only highlighted what more of a person you were: a sore loser with a bit of self destructive streak.

“baby, maybe you shouldn’t… not tonight…” the look you gave him was blank but indifferent, eyebrow flexing with a threat. 

“really? fine, then. whatever you say.” your last word evaporated with a lingering glare. 

on the inside, you didn’t mean any of this. you don’t know why you suddenly bite. you have every reason to be happy, albeit disappointed with yourself, not angry at the one person who had made you discover yourself and your passion, changing into a better person. he didn’t deserve this. why did you do this?

beomgyu was rolling up a joint in front of you, talking about something you could only process as words but lacking meaning, while you sat beside him, quiet and sullen. 

it was another night outside. another one. honest to god, you didn’t know how many you had left in you, living like this. at least with the way you were feeling. now was not a good time. beomgyu could sense the unease between you two, uncomfortable, so he scooted the tray forward to taehyun and gave your hand a pat, smiling. 

“i’ll be right back, you guys.” his voice came out as a lull, soft and like a whisper. he made sure to give your shoulder a squeeze before walking past you both.

neither of you continued to speak or move even after he had slid the door shut, leaving you two outside by yourselves. the silence between you two was louder than the music that bled through. taehyun’s eyes trained on you. you could feel it, but you remained unfazed. understanding the situation wordlessly, he continued where beomgyu had left off. for someone who didn’t smoke, he knew well enough how to do it.

there was a lot you wanted to say, but you kept your mouth shut. it wasn’t the right time. 

“oh, look what we have here!” your heads turned to the unfamiliar voice, multiple footsteps and guys you had only seen briefly around campus. taehyun sat up, facial expression hardening, but still smiling and trying to look friendly. he was a friend. you didn’t think you were going to like this friend. that ball of dread in your gut knew it, too. 

“damn, kang, didn’t think you were chill like that.” he continued, laughing. this guy, whoever he was, stood a few inches taller than the rest, voice just a bit louder than the others. it was just guys out here, leaving you alone like you were surrounded by wolves. taehyun only chuckled. 

“it’s not for me, actually.” he said, matter of factly. then, you felt caught by the other’s eyes, a glint in them, as you did your best to hold onto that always-there polite smile of yours. 

“oh, it’s for you, then, huh, sweetheart?” he asked, careening his head to better scrutinize you. 

“no, it’s —” 

“taehyun, this is the girl you’ve been banging? the one you’ve been ditching all our meetups and game nights for? ” this cunt cackled dryly, leaning over the chair. he eyed you as if you were nothing more than the object of a sentence. 

every girl was born with a sixth sense, unfortunately; in this case, you used it to feel his eyes linger up and down your body. you could feel another one of these boys pull out their phone, not so subtly angle the camera towards you to take a snapshot. your heart clenched in tandem of his thumb hitting the capture button, a leer on his face. why did they act like this?

“her name’s y/n, and don’t get to talk about her like that.” taehyun answered, eyes trained upwards to him, with a deepening purse of his lips.

“y/n, huh? the one that still needs tutoring? heh, not bad, i guess. didn’t peg you as someone into big girls,” the words rolled off his tongue. your eye twitched. “if i knew you were looking for some ass, maybe i could have hooked you up with someone else, and you wouldn’t have had to settle for this.” 

humiliation and rage rolled heavy as a wave, crashing all over you, sweeping you in a riptide. 

you made eye contact with taehyun, who shook his head, which you didn’t understand. something turned inside of you, rage into disgust towards him, but you had more pressing matters to attend to. even if this boar of a man spat illogical nothings at you, somehow taehyun’s silence cut deeper.

“who the fuck do you think you are to speak about me like that?!” oh, but this reaction only garnered amusement, even a flare of annoyance. 

he raised his hands up defensively, more so mockingly, looking half bewildered and amused. he turned to taehyun, pointing at you, while the others laughed.

“dude, tell your bitch to chill. you could do so much better, taehyun. she’s like a three at best. fuckin’ pothead loser!” he laughed, others jeering, the weight of their eyes and laughter practically shattering all that backbone and heart you had in you. they laughed and they laughed and they laughed. 

your heart rate pounded in your ears. the smell of blood flooded your senses. it had to be yours. everything was loud, heartbreak, shock, disappointment, fury, pain, humiliation. you couldn’t hear anything, much less anything clearly, only turning to taehyun and glowering blankly. he was standing beside you. you couldn’t read his expression. 

only his silence, stupid and open mouthed. 

“fuck you.” you hissed at them all. 

they’re all the same anyway. 

in turn, hanging on the last syllable that left your seething mouth, taehyun moved. you watched him pivot on his heel suddenly, pulling back his arm, and time slowed down, heart rate, blood pumping in your ears and vessels at a steady pace, like newton’s cradle. 

you watched taehyun, who always seemed to smile when he practiced boxing and working out, suckerpunch the guy. 

it was a hard hit. even as he pulled his fist back, he brought it back down to continue raining blows. you didn’t know the creep’s name. certainly, taehyun wasn’t even going to let you recognize him either with the way this was going. the others who watched hesitated but tried to intervene, getting tossed aside in whirlwinds. taehyun managed to knock him down and climb over him to keep beating on him. 

you have no idea how long this went on. you called his name, in shock, out of desperation, fear of the consequences, but it was the sliding door slam against the door frame and beomgyu’s yell that may have slowed him down. soobin and beomgyu ran over to pull him off, fist bloody and bruised, the figure underneath reduced to hues of purples and reds.

he stood now to the side, panting aggressively. his eyes slowly found you, looking for you even if they had only a short journey. the night around all of you was peaceful, nature seemed to be forgiving tonight, but you didn’t know if you could say the same. 

it was a bit of a circus, so many voices and movements, yelling, gasping for air, coughing, and yet all you could hear was your heartbeat. 

your legs decided to move on their own, turning to enter the house. this led you straight into the dark of the kitchen, abandoned, quieter, but the bass still rattled everything. 

the sliding doors narrated taehyun’s entrance behind you.

“y/n, are you okay?” he asked, not moving any closer. you turned on your heel to look at him. his fist was dark underneath the skin and spotty over with blood that wasn’t his.

“yeah, are you?” you asked, a hint of sarcasm in your tone. taehyun sighed at that. 

“you don’t need to give me an attitude. i’m just asking because i’m concerned. am i not allowed to be, y/n?” 

you rolled your eyes. you didn’t mean that. there was a lot in your heart and even more in your mind, impulsivity shoving your love aside. 

“taehyun, i think you should just leave me alone.” in response, he huffed, stubborn.

“no, something’s wrong. talk to me.” he got closer and you turned around again. there was a light in your eyes he had never seen before. 

you recognized that unfamiliarity. a twinge of pain wracked your body at that. 

“fine, i think it’s fucked that no matter what i do, i’m always gonna be subjected to that kinda bullshit, and  i think it’s also fucked up you allowed that to go any further than it did.”

his scoff made you something behind your eyes sting. men were so quick to change up. was it always them or was it also you?

“i beat his ass, didn’t i? a ‘thank you’ would be nice to hear.” 

“fine, thank you. thank you for being friends with that loser and all those other losers out there that you tell me not to listen to,” you definitely didn’t mean soobin and beomgyu, but it didn’t matter. “it’s just so telling that he’s your friend.”

“what are you even talking about now?”

“you’re really just a man at the end of the day. if he can say things like that out in the open, i can’t even imagine what he says in the locker room. i can’t imagine what things you say either,” he sighed again.

“i’m not like that, y/n.”

“really? then, why didn’t you let me tell him shit or why didn’t you?” 

truthfully, his only reasoning was because he wasn’t worth it. you didn’t have to fight scum like him. it was why he was there. 

“for fuck’s sake, taehyun, he didn’t even know we were dating!” you added. the look on his face was more than annoyance. you were going to make him hate you, weren’t you?

“now, i’m confused. is this all because your test or because of who i’m friends with? i’m sorry, y/n, but there’s better things to be upset about, especially that are actually what you can control. are you going to start choosing who i’m friends with now?”

“that’s not what i’m even fucking upset about! you truly don’t see how shitty this all makes me feel?”

“well, i don’t think you do either!” he raised his voice for the first time, making your tough expression dissolve. it was nothing close to what you’ve experienced from the other men in your life, even from your own father. 

it seemed like no matter how far you moved or what you did, he would always seem to haunt you, whether it was in the person you thought you could love or yourself.

“can you blame me? i’m not a mind reader, y/n. fuck, all we had said was that we wouldn’t be hiding what we did. we’re not even dating! what do you want from me?”

“oh…”

this nasty thought set in, filling your stomach. your sinuses loosened. your throat closed up. your eyes stung and grew heavy. maybe it was true, then. 

taehyun was just like every other guy.

his own eyes widened at the betrayal of his slip. he seemed to understand the gravity of all that he had said, of all that he had done, and you seemed to finally recognize the taehyun you always knew. even then, you considered him a stranger. 

“how could i be so stupid?” you whispered, practically mouthing the words, to turn completely away from him, from it all. jaunting through the crowd, shoving to get further away, it was as if no one moved out of the way for you. how could you have thought you actually mattered? 

taehyun called after you, again and again, desperately, but it drowned out with the overlapping conversations and heavy music weighing down over every single thing. it was all so loud. you caught kai’s and yeonjun’s eyes, briefly glancing at them from where they stood by the staircase. while they had held your broken gaze for only seconds, it felt like an eternity. in that moment, you dismissed them with a hand. it was a request for them to hold their places. for you to be alone. 

lucky you had planned it right. deciding to be sober in every way, you got into your car, blindly switching it on and hitting drive until you made it back, parking, trudging up to your room, crashing on the untended bed. 

your phone buzzed and buzzed, screen lighting up every few minutes with calls and texts from your friends, especially from taehyun. his were few in quantity but large in quality.

two phone calls, one voicemail, and three text messages. poignant as ever. 

you answered all except his, letting the silence speak for itself. that was easy enough for a message to grasp right?

or did he take you as easy like every other fucking man? 

the thoughts you let yourself wallow with deepened you further into the quicksand of the sallow foundation of a place you fought so hard to never hit. it was sort of the reason you were always stoned.

raw dogging these feelings was like stepping barefoot over hot coals. without the use of substances, you couldn’t distance yourself from the reality you tried so hard to deny. 

you weakly lifted yourself, shaking arms, to sit up and bury your face in your hands. 

maybe you would never be capable of being loved by a man. after all, you don’t even have a clue of what it looked like.

for the next day, you stayed in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. a splitting headache would greet you each time you would wake up. the ceiling’s reflection of the sunlight or lack thereof was the only semblance of time you would allow yourself. it hurt so bad, but you let it. maybe not smoking or eating a gummy would do you some good. at least a little break, at least.

there was a knock on your door the next night and your phone vibrated, a notification that had been sent despite the do not disturb focus set. 

soobin and yeonjun had sent over food, bagged up and in styrofoam containers; you had to eat it. the meals inside were comfort foods from their upbringing, warm stews, savory side dishes, and yummy rice, ones that they had introduced to you, when they had you over at yeonjun’s aunt’s party. everyone had been so kind and welcoming. taehyun was there. it was before you knew now that maybe you shouldn’t get out of your comfort zone. you didn’t know. you really didn’t know anything. 

kai sent you tiktoks back and forth, and you two played cookie run or roblox or among us together the entire night.

the next morning, just at dawn, you awoke to beomgyu texting you and telling you of the aftermath. he also apologized and told you that he cared about you; he would always be there for you. 

that guy fortunately didn’t press charges, but he did need a couple of stitches. he decided to take accountability by at least cutting off ties with certain people. unbeknownst to you, he had even curated alternative tests for you, so that not all hope was lost. taehyun didn’t show up for his practice, couldn’t sleep well or even stomach much, all things considered.  he and all the guys talked it out, wanting to clear up any miscommunication or misunderstandings. 

the guys did not hold back on lecturing and scolding taehyun. you were a treasure. their treasure.

at the center of your mind, you felt like you were on the path to getting past everything, moving on in your own way, accepting that all was lost, especially since he said there was nothing to begin with. 

then, your weekend of peace was put to an end when someone dared to knock on your door late in the night, just at the hair of midnight. 

you assumed it to be beomgyu since you had been in contact with him hours earlier, texting here and there to talk about everything else besides the drama. 

when you swung the door open, about three seconds of silence hung in the air before you tried to slam the door on the very person you tried to not think about. taehyun wore his glasses and sweats, looking every bit of a mess. good. 

he had shoved his foot between the crack, letting out a quiet ‘ow’. you sighed deeply before opening it and using your hand to show him in.

taehyun stayed put at the door, knowing he wasn’t welcome. 

“i’ll make this quick. promise,” he exhaled. “y/n, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry for not listening to you, for being a coward, for being harsh and unkind, for not being sympathetic, and especially for saying that we weren’t dating when that isn’t true.”

the stare you gave him was hard, eyebags tough under your tired eyes. taehyun’s eyes welled up. the sight of you and hearing you like this only made him want the dams brimming at his eyelids want to break.

“look, i’m… also sorry. i took my frustration out on you when you’ve been nothing but good to me, and i provoked you. hard. didn’t even truly appreciate you beating the shit out of some guy who gave me a hard time,” you exhaled, trying to find the strength. 

“i had been so confused and hurt when you said we weren’t dating. i still don’t know why, but i think it’s because i realize now that wasn’t what you wanted. i was high. you’re just a nice guy. we’re friends, sure, but we’re two different people. fuck, just look at me. it’s not your fault.”

taehyun gaped at you, scrambling to do something, anything, for once. 

“you have nothing to be sorry for. oh, baby, no.” he said with urgency while you brushed him off. 

“it’s fine, really. taehyun, it’s all okay.”

“no, y/n. i didn’t mean anything i said. you can call bullshit on it, but that’s up to you. i’ve never felt this way before, and feeling it so early… it scared me. i could only imagine that it would terrify you even more. from what you’ve told me, and from the men you’ve told me about, they’ve all done that. they’ve scared you in some way, and i didn’t want to feed into that. only now i see i was doing the opposite of making you feel loved, and i’m so sorry.”

a pause of silence allowed for you to calm your quivering breath. 

“feel what?”

taehyun swallowed hard, looking the most nervous you had ever seen him. 

“i’m in love with you. i’ve tried to deny it, brush it off, but it’s because i didn’t know what it felt like before until now. i… i didn’t know what to do with it. i didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“you don’t mean that either,” you half stated and suggested, but he dismissed it. 

“please tell me that’s not true.” you begged, heart melting and burning in flames at the brunt of your ego, your pride, your stupid fucking shield. 

“i love you. please, y/n. i’ve known for so long. i don’t want to be a coward anymore. i love you.” lifting his head at the right angle, the dim lighting of your led light shined over his shiny tear tracks, one dipping into the seam of his dimple. your face betrayed you. 

“i know you feel the same way about me, too. that’s the only reason why you beg me to deny it.” he exhaled and you took two steps into your stride towards him, legs working before you. 

taehyun met you halfway and took your face in his hands to kiss you like it was a lifeline. it was. it felt like it was. it must be. his fingers stroked your skin, imperfect under his, but he did it like you’re treasure. 

“what about everyone else?” you croaked between the film of wet kisses. 

“what about everyone else? you are above everyone and everything. you shouldn’t ever have to worry about all those stupid things.”

“what about your friends?” 

“then, they were never my friends in the first place. i’m not losing anything if i’m with you. it doesn't scare me. it shouldn’t scare you either. nothing should. my brave y/n, you’re so amazing. i’ll make you see one day. in the mean time, i’ll remind you over and over.”

as he kissed you, pulling you in and in, your tears, too, gave in, leaving your kisses salty. 

“but, what if i meet your parents and they hate me?” you asked through deep breaths. the two of you chuckled, laughs feeding off another, and melted further in each other’s abundance of kisses. “they couldn’t. if they hate you, then they hate me. i wouldn’t let them.” 

taehyun kissed your forehead and held you close. 

“it’s okay if bad things happen. it’s okay if we get scared. it’s okay if we have disagreements, excluding the important stuff. everything’s going to be okay, i promise. it might not look the way you have in mind, but things are always going to be okay.” 

you held him close and felt peace restored in your own mind and heart. you felt like you believe him. maybe everything was going to be okay.

“hey… are you nervous, baby?” taehyun spoke right at the seam of your tingling lips, pulling off. his hands cupped your face so carefully. could he feel how hard your heart was pounding in your vessels? could he hear it? “no, no…” you could only manage. he gave you space, helping you sit up. this kind of atmosphere was definitely new. sure, the circumstances weren’t, but something about this was a lot for you. in a good way. 

after catching up, you and taehyun decided to go to a hotel, just to be away from everyone and everything. focus on each other, especially now that you felt more confident in your relationship with him. 

the idea was good in the moment, blushing, passionate kisses that needed to be let out. now, having made it to your room successfully, two beds, one for fun and the other for sleep, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed… 

it was the first time he was seeing you like this. it was the first time you were pretty much not high. it was the first time you were going to do this so intimately and technically. it was the first time you were doing this since you had become official. it was the first time you were going to experience something like this with someone like him: perfect with perfect. a part of that suggested you weren’t enough. 

taehyun lovingly kissed you and undressed you, moving down to kiss the more skin that got exposed.

“so pretty, baby. look at you, all spread out for me…” he murmured to himself. he left a few marks here and there around your torso and thighs before pulling away. 

“is it okay if i take off my clothes, too, y/n?” he whispered, stroking your cheek. you nodded and he kissed your temple. “going to grab a condom, too, baby.” he squeezed your side affectionately before going to his bag you’d both left by the door. 

without his presence and warmth, you felt immediately naked. your heart pounded in your ears. quietly, you moved under the covers. you knew he liked your body, but a tiny part of you made you embarrassed about being so spread out in your nakedness. chubby girl, lying flat over plain white covers. maybe it would make you look worse. 

taehyun walked back, already having tossed his shirt behind him to find you peeking out from behind the cover.

he looked so hot, it only made you want to be swallowed up by the comforter.

taehyun unbuckled his jeans but didn’t continue. he leaned forward and touched your leg through the fabric, making you gasp. 

“being playful, y/n, or is this too much?” the question was casually said, but you knew that he wanted to know the truth of how you felt. you slowly sat up, removing the cover from your upper half, still covering your body with your hands. you sigh.

“just shy. it’s your first time seeing me like this. it’s a lot being naked in good lighting, without using weed, to calm down my nerves, and especially seeing you fully, so fucking hot…” taehyun smiled softly and took a seat beside you. 

“i’m sorry, beautiful,” he paused to kiss you on the shoulder, upwards, down your chest and soft stomach. “for the record, i’ve been dreaming of this moment with you, baby. you’ve got nothing to be afraid of. if you want to stop, we can.”

you let him kiss you and rub his arm until he pulled off. 

“nothing could make me change my mind about you, y/n, if that’s really what you’re thinking. i love you. please don’t be afraid to tell me what’s on your mind, sweetheart.” he added, but this time, you leaned in to continue. 

soft, sweet whispers were exchanged, full of love and praise to each other, breathy moans in between. taehyun undid his jeans and pulled them off, moving to take off your cover hiding your body. these were all movements that you were too busy to watch happen, hands wandering, feeling up, caressing, playing, but still very much there. 

sober but hopelessly in love, it felt like you were high. everything felt blurry and warm, so good it bound you speechless, taehyun was on you and even in you, prepping mostly, wetness, lube, and saliva coating your slit. 

you felt insane. the further it went, the more a trend showed itself. oh, you felt crazy. 

there were too many sensations all around. it was hard to decipher where taehyun wasn’t. his hands, his sounds, his scent, the sweat from his body on yours, his cock dragging in and out of you, stealing and squeezing every breath from you, it was all so much. and this was even after the hurdle of about ten minutes ago, when he had finally pushed his tip in, splitting your folds, pushing out more of your sweet essence the further he moved, and your walls had latched on. it was hard for him, too, but oh so obviously, not as hard as how you had it, with the way you gripped on his bicep, drooling, crying out. 

he never once made a move without talking to you through it, stopping, cradling your head, asking so kindly for you to communicate what you felt; if it hurt, if you wanted to stop, etc. you smiled through your tears, regaining composure and told him to give you a moment to settle. he did, kissing your face softly, sprinkling them. he murmured hums and praises as your chest progressed from harsh breaths to slow and steady ones. 

but, now, here you were, again. you felt bad, in the back of your mind, as opposed to the forefront occupied with the heavy sensations around you, on you, in you.

catching your staggering, elevating breaths was found to be quite an insurmountable task. your heart fastened in its pace and it even felt like it had been lurched into your throat, blood pounding in your ears, drool hanging down the sides of your throat. 

“relax for me, y/n. take deeeep breaths. breathe for me. yeah, that’s it. come back to me.” taehyun’s voice sounded distant in the field of your overwhelmed noises, but he guided you through it. 

he breathed in and out slowly, waiting for you to follow him, which you did. it eased him immediately. 

“that’s my good girl.” he praised, wiping a stray tear. 

“needed a second… it just all feels so good. too good, taehyun. imagine if i was high!” you managed, finding wiggle room to snicker to yourself, as if the head of his dick wasn’t kissing your leaky slit, begging to part such dulcet folds. taehyun also found that comment funny, moving some hair from your eyes to stay put with the help of the moisture all over you. “sorry, by the way, that we have to keep stopping. i… just get so excited like everywhere everywhere, and i can’t calm down. are you turned off?” 

taehyun’s face dropped when he gasped, rushing forward, eager to shush you and convince you of how he felt, which was so endeared and how he was very much turned on. his dick twitching on your clit made you keel, body writhing. 

then, there was a segue of taehyun reassuring you before your hand was searching for his erection to shove back in. he found your ardor sweet, comical even. he loved it. he loved you.

taehyun leaned down to kiss you, lips relaying quietly of his love for you, as he entered you from below. little by little, he eased himself inside and after a second of accommodating, you gave him the go. it hit you both hard.

taehyun slid in and out, playing with your clit, using the pad of his finger to move in the killer motions that he learned did it for you perfectly, lifting your legs a little higher and further apart. your eyes grew glossy, pupils spacing out and crossing, and the pitchy cries ripped at your diaphragm, but these were signs you were getting closer and closer to falling apart. your thick thighs shook in his hold, the jiggles made some of your stretch marks ripple like water, and he groaned loudly in your ear, revving up the speed and accuracy of the strokes. he was so far in, ramming your sweet spot over and over again, doing a little more to take it a little further. 

“oh, god! keep doing that, please, tyunnie, don’t stop, please, please! oh, my god!” you wailed. he growled, obeying without hesitation, lifting your legs some more to bend at your chest, folding you completely. this position concentrated your thick flesh to get full and to be squeezed between your already thick thighs. your breasts pressed together, tummy rolls just the same, rippling in response to each hard stroke into you. it made him grunt and somehow accelerate. 

your walls were fluttering, squeezing, clit pulsing, nails sinking into his arms and that spot where his tattoo was. 

“f-fuck, i’m close! taehyun, i’m so, so close! i’m gonna come. oh, god, i’m really gonna come!” you grew increasingly loud, breathy whimpers louder and messier, in the way something gets torn to shreds. 

“come on, baby. come for me. i’ve got you, y/n. go ahead, when you’re ready. you’re so beautiful, sweetheart. finish for me, yeah. just like that. you’re doing so well for me, taking me so good, so proud of you. let me hear you. let go when you’re ready — ” you interrupted him when you came. you wondered what more he could have said. in reality, you heard white noise for a minute or two when you did let go, jolting around, hips rocking around, and he loosened the grip on your legs, letting them drift out of his hold. taehyun continued praising you, kissing you, wiping your tears you hadn’t realized had fallen in such large heaps. 

by the time you were returning from your high, taehyun was slowing down. much to his surprise, weakly, you told him to keep going, to please, please come, and to take off his condom, to do it over your boobs or tummy. he whined, smacking the underside of your ass, saying, “fuck, y/n. at let me pull out first!”

his hand stayed on your fleshy hip, fingers digging into the softness of your ass and thumb on your thigh. that sweet look in his eyes had been replaced by something ravenous, dark and lusty. you rutted against him, desperate for him to do something, anything, even if your insides were teetering onto overstimulation. 

“whatever you want, baby, it’s all yours.” he exhaled, smoothing his sweaty fringes back. it was like something in him must have snapped when taehyun began to jackrabbit into you, folding your body even more, body shaking, bed creaking loudly with each movement. your throaty cries were forced out of you with each thrust into the rhythm of momentum, hands grasping at straws, at the mess of sheets underneath you to hang on. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” you managed, back arching perfectly, and the familiar clench in your stomach foresaw what was to come. taehyun immediately smirked, gritting his teeth, and went even faster somehow. 

wordlessly, you came undone under him, all but taehyun’s name coming out of your open mouth as a warbled sob. he eased his pace, slowly lowering your bottom half, while the aftershocks lingered and continue to roll through you like the rumbles of thunder following cracks of lightning. the thick flesh on your thighs trembled violently, hips bucking, and your hands fisted the sheets. he cooed, rubbing your tired hipbones.

“i know, baby. i know…” your tired cunt fluttered around him, still, making it harder for him to stave it off any longer. “shit, y/n, gonna cum. that okay? baby, is that okay? where do you want me, baby?” his voice elevated in pitch, feeling the effects of his high running at him faster than he could control. he needed this. he needed you. you were going to be the death of him.

“mmm, stomach, please!” you whimpered. he pulled out without hesitation, one stroke under his hand, to release all over your soft tummy, spurting warm, full strings that decorated the color of your skin. so pretty. some of it fell into the dip of your belly button, and some slipped in the valley of your breasts. every spurt aligned with taehyun’s pitchy groans. it was so good. you felt like your body was numb, on another dimension, and almost like being high should feel like. fuck, your toes were still curled. 

he leaned over you, trying to catch his breath, and once he did, he locked eyes with you and smiled gently at you, fangs hidden behind the seam of his unflexed lips. his hand cupped your face.

“y/n, you did such a good job. so beautiful. my pretty, pretty girl. how do you feel, baby?” he asked, pulling you back down to the current dimension, into the reality you could only think described a dream. 

look at him. look at the way he looked at you, like you were made to be revered. 

“i feel good,” you felt your world turn, faces of the earth being hit by the sun, days turning, and knew confidently that this was meant to be. you and taehyun. taehyun and you. you had your whole lives ahead, but you could see it in each other. “i think i’m good.”

[prettyboysun]

summer, night | choi beomgyu

pairing: f!reader x beomgyu w.c: 1.9k

genre: fluff, smut, boyfriend!beomgyu

summary: while on a date with your boyfriend, you are forced to wait out a rainstorm in his car - now you just need to pass time.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, public sex (parking lot but its empty), its all very soft & not rlly descriptive, praising if you squint, petnames (pretty girl, baby) lowercase intended

song rec & inspo: summer, night - jeon jin hee, w2e

💭: very self indulgent and very much inspired by the constant (and random?) rain in my state & my new headphones

“beomgyu,” you whine, ”i seriously can't do this!”

beomgyu comes to a slow stop on his skateboard, kicking the board up and holding it up with one hand. he turns around and faces you, seeing that you were still about fifteen feet behind him, he grins widely at your frazzled state.

“baby, it's not as hard as you're making it out to be.”

“it is!” you reply, falling to a crouched position dramatically. “it’s not fair, you're already a pro. i can’t even balance on the stupid thing without you holding me.”

beomgyu makes his way towards you, the grin on his face never falling. “do you want me to hold you then?”

you look up at him and scoff.

“stand up, pretty.” he takes you hand in his and balances you back onto the board. “you’re doing fine, you just keep freaking yourself out and it messes you up.”

he lets go of your hands, leaving you to balance by yourself. beomgyu crouches at your feet, softly moving your feet as you grab onto his shoulders for support. when he stands up again, you feel comfortable in your stance.

“does that feel better?” he asks you. you nod your head in reply and he turns to step back onto his board to demonstrate. “when you want to move, keep this foot planted on the board - make sure to keep your weight on it too.”

you slowly copy his movements, flailing your arms in the process in fear that you’ll fall if you don't.

“don’t do that either,” beomgyu catches your arm, setting it down by your side, “you’ll lose balance quicker and lose focus of the weight on your board. now watch, baby.”

beomgyu slowly gains speed on his skateboard, making sure to stay as slow as possible while demonstrating his movements clearly for you. “your turn. slowly.”

he sits there as he waits for you to start moving, but you remain frozen, staring at the cement in front of you. you were beyond thankful it was later and beomgyu had brought you to a smaller, more quieter skatepark.

“can you just-” you pause, motioning your arms towards yourself. “please?”

beomgyu lets out a faint sigh as he makes his way towards you once more. you smile to yourself when he places his hands on your waist, “ready?”

“yes!”

beomgyu holds you upright as you start to press down onto the ground to move. you start slowly so you can gain balance and momentum (and so your boyfriend can keep right next to you) but after a minute, beomgyu has let go of you, unnoticed, and soon you were gliding smoothly around the park.

“oh my god, babe!” you shout. beomgyu watches, smiling wide at the way you weren’t freaking out. “i’m doing it!”

“see! i knew you could do it.” he shouts back. “slow down a little, baby, i want to ride next to you.”

slowly but surely, even after a few accidents, you and beomgyu were side by side skating - holding hands at some points and laughing with each other when one of you (mostly you) would trip up and fall off the board.

half an hour later, you and your boyfriend were sitting side by side along one of the ramps in the park, dangling your legs against the drop. the park had emptied out not long ago and you both became tired after skating for a few hours straight.

beomgyu had many hobbies, from music to photography, and one of them was skating. it wasn’t something he did often but he had mentioned wanting to teach you on your first date together. now, fast forward almost 5 months later, he finally got to.

“i can’t wait for you to get really good at this so we can skate in my favorite spots together,” he suddenly says, his breath showing in the cold air. “and so you can do sick tricks and i can totally film them then post them to show off how i totally got you to that point.”

“oh, you’re so romantic, beomgyu.” you know your shoulders against his.

he lets chuckles quietly, muttering how he’s just that good of a teacher.

“but you’re right, it gets easier when i stop thinking about how i'm constantly going to fall.

you fall deep into conversation, resting your head on his shoulders as you watch him fiddle with the digital camera in his hands. beomgyu brought it to record small parts of the date and take pictures of you both. it’s only been five months since he had asked you to officially be his girlfriend, but you were sure he would be the one you were to spend the rest of your days with.

you flinch when you feel small droplets of water hit your hand, looking up, you can see the sky softly light up from lightning.

“was it supposed to storm tonight?” you ask beomgyu.

he digs in his back pocket for his phone, pulling up the weather app when he retrieves it.

“i could've sworn it was going to be clear skies tonight,” beomgyu replies, flashing his screen towards you, “look. It’s supposed to storm for the next few hours.”

you sit up and stretch your shoulders, rolling your head around to stretch your neck, “well, let’s get back before it starts here. movie at mine?”

“sure. i parked kind of far so we should go like… right now.” a loud thunderclap strikes when he finishes his sentence, making you and beomgyu both jump at the sound.

as you both make your way to beomgyu’s car, the wind picks up and rain falls harder, urging you to speed walk. not even seconds pass before puddles are forming and the rain is coming down harshly. you and beomgyu are practically running and screaming, spitting out profanities when you reach his car and it’s not immediately unlocking when he clicks his fob.

“it’s freezing!” you squeal out, reaching for the knobs inside to turn the heat on. you scream and hide your face in your hands when cold air blows out instead of hot, uncovering your face when the vents start warming up.

“god, it’s fucking pouring.” beomgyu states.

“we probably shouldn’t drive right now.” you say, watching large puddles form in the parking lot. you turn in your seat to face beomgyu, who was already staring at you. “what?”

“you look really pretty tonight.”

you mess with the sleeve of your sweater, blushing at his sudden words. beomgyu taps at his phone, eventually finding a calming playlist to play, setting his phone down on the center console. you continue to observe beomgyu, your gaze catching onto his strong facial features. his long, fluffy hair that was slightly damp from running in the rain - it was your favorite physical attribute of his, you could lay for hours treading your fingers through his hair, the best part was that he’d always let you.

“you too.” beomgyu shoots you a confused glance.

“you also look really pretty tonight.” you whisper.

“i tried. took me all day to get my hair like this and took me three days to pick these.” he replies, motioning towards his ripped jeans.

you giggle and swat beomgyu’s shoulder, “i should refrain from complimenting you.”

“wait baby, noo, compliment me more!” you shake your head no at his pleas, calling him egotistical. beomgyu leans closer to you, resting his elbows on the console in between you both. “tell me i’m pretty again.”

you place your hands on both of his cheeks, squeezing them softly. “you’re soo pretty, my love. the prettiest ever!”

he laughs loudly at your praises, “outsold. ate. face card never declining.. well, sometimes.”

“hey!”

you giggle at his response.

“what do you mean sometimes?” beomgyu whines. “mean girl.”

you close the gap in between the two of you, gently laying a kiss on his soft lips. when you pull away, beomgyu goes in for more. “how should we pass time?” he asks in between kisses.

“i feel like you already have something in mind.”

“we don’t have to, baby. we are in a parking lot so i understand.” he mutters against your lips.

“only if you don’t want to.”

beomgyu shakes his head, “get back there, cutie.”

you smile, climbing over the center console and yelping when beomgyu suddenly pinches your thigh with his nails. he follows you to the back seat, immediately landing his lips on yours before he even situates himself. you comb your fingers through his hair, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. beomgyu wastes no time sliding his hands up and under your flowy miniskirt, grabbing your hips from underneath the material and pulling you under him.

you let out a quiet moan when beomgyu suddenly grinds into you, the material of his jeans creating more friction. beomgyu trails wet kisses down your neck, pulling the collar of your sweater down to reach your collarbones, sucking at your skin every so often.

“was this your plan?” you breathe out, your boyfriend looking up and smirking at you.

“do you mean the rain?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“the sex in the c-” your sentence coming to a stop when beomgyu suddenly lays the pads of his fingers under your panties, circling your clit.

“sorry? i didn’t quite get that, baby.” you roll your eyes and bring him back to your lips, passion burning through more than before as he continues to work you with his fingers.

despite not even being together for half a year, beomgyu knew how to work your body perfectly - even with just his hands he can have you falling apart. it’s no wonder why you found yourself falling head over heels for him so fast. the knot in your stomach grew tighter as beomgyu continued his pace, occasionally slipping his fingers in your warmth, stretching and curling them inside of you.

“mmh- beomgyu, almost.” you moan against his lips.

“go ahead, pretty.” you arch into him as your orgasm hits you, whining into beomgyu’s neck as he rides you through it.

“i don’t have a condom, baby. do you?” he asks.

you shake your head rapidly, whimpering and grabbing at his jeans, “don’t care, just need you please, gyu.”

soon enough, beomgyu is thrusting inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you take his length. one hand lays under your sweater as the other is against the window to steady himself.

“so good, baby, you’re so good,” he groans, “so pretty and perfect for me.”

it’s not before long when you’re reaching your second high as beomgyu reaches his, falling into your neck as he cums inside of you, groaning and slowing his thrusts to a stop. you try to catch your breath as you run your fingers through his hair, tugging softly as a way to let him know not fall asleep despite the compromising position. he sits up, leaving a few more soft kisses on you.

“you look beautiful like this.” he said, rubbing your side softly. you chuckle and mutter a soft thank you, wincing when he suddenly pulls out to clean both you and himself up.

the rain hadn’t stopped, but it had gotten way lighter. you laid against beomgyu, comparing his hand size to yours as you both watched the rain continue to hit the windshield.

“gyu?” you break the comforting silence.

“yeah?”

“thank you for choosing me.”

your eyes meet each other, and you can almost see the genuine love he has for you within his. the way his gaze meets yours is nothing but soft and full of love and adoration for you.

“i should really be thanking you, my pretty girl.” beomgyu replies, voice barely above a whisper as he lays a kiss against your head. “i love you. let’s go watch that movie at your place, yeah?”

rushed editing & rushed smut ill be back to this tmmr <3

[prettyboysun]

random memes/posts online that remind me of txt warnings: cursing yeonjun:

soobin:

beomgyu:

taehyun:

huening kai:

#txt imagines #txt fluff #txt drabbles #yeonjun fluff #beomgyu fluff #soobin fluff #taehyun fluff #hueningkai fluff

[prettyboysun]

──★ 𝚝𝚡𝚝 + 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚑𝚌𝚜

NSFW, MDNFI! drugs, obviously. sub!soobin, perv!sookai, masturbation (m. rec), couch sex, daddy kink, lazy sex, oral sex (m and f rec.), shotgunning, service top!beomgyu, vaginal fingering, anal sex (f. rec), dom!hueningkai, himbo kai vibes, manhandling A/N: this is a repost from my old account!

soobin ★

he gets SOO horny when he's high oml.... all he can think about is getting his dick wet ><

 turns into a bigger perv than he already is, gets so hard over the tiniest things… n he’s so embarrassed ab it too!! tries to go n hide in the bathroom so he can fist his cock.. but he’s so noisy n you know him so well so you catch him every time heehee

 so subby!!! too out of it n desperate to take what he wants n take control, just use him n make him feel good :( he’s always such a service top, always focused on pleasing you… esp loves having his face ridden omg loves the suffocating feeling loves the lack of air LOVES how you whine n pull on his hair <3 ughhh sitting on his face w his glasses on, the lenses getting all foggy as he laps at your cunt :(

 gets so dumb n so fucked out… only able to whimper n whine, stuttering out broken “s-so good!”s and “so tight!”s when he’s fucking you :( likes lazy sideways sex on the couch or draping himself on top of you on bed, just lazy n staccato thrusts in n out of your cunt 

yeonjun ★

daddy kink upped to level 100. will call himself daddy even if you don’t, even when you’re not having sex. can you get up and grab daddy a bottle of water? thank you, princess. come sit on daddy’s lap? that’s his good girl.

 will whine and beg for sex absolutely lol 

 gets soooooo lazy when he’s baked heehee >///< will not put much effort into sex at all, absolutely will make you ride him while he just lies back n watches!! makin fun of you for being so needy n slutty when you’re bouncing on his big dick, acting like he wasn’t groping your ass n tits the entire night >< need daddy’s cock so bad, huh baby? there we go, show daddy how much you need it~

 also loves having his dick sucked when you’re smoking together ack!!!! loves you between his legs giving him head while he smokes a joint n runs his fingers through your hair… ugh i need him so bad 

 jjunie loves shotgunning so much omg, loves having you on his lap while you make out, loves breaking away to take a hit just to blow it into your mouth <3 you always take whatever he gives you so well~

beomgyu ★

weed has the opposite effect on beomgyu than it does on the other boys, where it makes him so sated n vanilla :< 

 doesn’t get super horny, just cuddly n affectionate :( wants to spoon you n make out, lay his head in your lap, have you play with his hair…

 but if you’re the horny one? high gyu is such a service top, doesn’t care about his own satisfaction and is 100% focused on making you feel good n making you cum hard ><

 slowly SLOWLY fingerfucking you, letting you feel every drag of his fingers against your walls… landing gentle slaps to your clit to watch you squeak n squirm,, holding your thighs apart while he eats you out so nice n thorough :(

 high sex for him is all about you, how many times he can make you cum, can he get you to squirt? laughing sweetly at all of your cute reactions… he’s so in love :’<

taehyun ★

i’ve always seen tyun as the most “vanilla” out of all of them, so concerned about your safety n pleasure :( but getting him high would make him so much more open to dirtier, kinkier sex heehee

 more dirty talk, new positions, trying out some fantasy you’ve had tucked away in your mind… tyun is just so much more open to experimentation ><

 especially loves anal when he’s high UGHHHHHH,, when he’s sober he’s too worried about hurting you ;< he’s not very long but he’s THICK n he doesn’t wanna stretch out your lil hole to the point you’re hurtin :( 

 but when he’s high, anal is allll he can think about eeeeek >///< i think he’s secretely such an anal enjoyer but only indulges when he smokes.. can’t help but sit on the couch baked out of his mind daydreaming about his girthy cock in ur tiny tight ass, listening to you scream as he pounds you @_@

 def a little more talkative too, mumbling shit like “fuck yeah, take it, that’s it, daddy’s good girl~” when you move your hips back to meet his thrusts… tyun will not stop calling himself daddy when he’s high, just like jjunie!!!

hueningkai ★

is actually a worse pussy fiend than soobin when he’s high

 he tries VERY hard to hide it, sweet boy, but he’s sooo obvious, squirming with a pillow in his lap, trying to be secretive adjusting his big stiff cock in his sweats… ugh the dick bulge

 it’s so fun to tease hyuka when he’s high n horny cos unlike soobin he’ll eventually snap and take what he wants eeee >< showing off your legs n curves, letting your cleavage peek out from your low cut top, being a little touchier than usual… baby can only take so much before he’s flipping you over n prying your legs apart <3

 literally uses you like a pocket pussy, so high n focused on his own pleasure, head completely somewhere else!! deaf to your cute lil whimpers of “too big!” “slow down!” “hyuka, too much!”, only spurring him on more to wreck your poor tiny pussy even more :( he just doesn’t understand how big n strong he is!!

[prettyboysun]

AMAZING AMAZING AMAZING

TRY HARD

SUMMARY: Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

GENRE: smut, crack, fluff, minimal angst

PAIRING: Lee Juyeon x afab!reader (ft. sangyeon, sunwoo, and chanhee)

WC: 8.7k (oops)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: name calling (reader calls Juyeon stripper boy, baby, and pretty boy. Juyeon calls reader pretty girl), swearing, mentions of college parties, Y/N roasts Juyeon like a lot, Juyeon stops a door with his foot, one bed trope (for like two seconds), sunwoo slander (learning from Fawn <3) Juyeon is not god's strongest soldier, masturbation (m and kinda f), p in v sex, implied unprotected sex, restraints are used, dom!reader kinda, bratty!Juyo kinda, really poor attempts at humor, i think there's more but that covers the big stuff

A/N: This was NOT supposed to be almost 9k. It was supposed to be 3k at MOST but i will not lie i will prolly end up doing this again for most of the fics I'm putting out for this collab oops. Anywayyyyy let's kick off the collab with arguably my funniest fic.

The first time you meet Lee Juyeon, you’re dressed in sleep shorts and the biggest sweatshirt in your closet. He’s standing at your door, and for a moment you can’t help but be confused by the fact that yes, there is a hot man in a white tank top and cargo pants leaning against your doorframe. And yes, he is, in fact, there for you and not the girls living down the hall from you. 

And, to be fair, it wasn’t your fault that you thought he was a stripper. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that you see a guy with a body to die for and the face of an angel. 

“Are you some sort of stripper?” For a moment, the two of you are quiet. There’s a look of pure astonishment on his face that eventually turns into him fighting back a grin. 

“Do you want me to be?” His tongue brushes over his lower lip while he scans you up and down and you scoff. 

“No. The girls you’re probably looking for are down the hall, the last door on the right.” You begin to shut the door. “Have fun.” 

“Wait!” His foot catches in the door before you can slam it shut and you hear him swear loudly. “Shit, that did not feel good.” 

“Are you fucking stupid?” You swing the door open again, scowling at him. “Why would you try to catch this heavy ass door with your foot?” 

“I thought it would look cool!” He winces, one hand gripping your door frame and the other cradling his aching foot. “Like in the movies!”

“I don’t know if you know this…” you trail off, squinting at him and realizing you have no idea who this man is. “Stripper boy,—”

“Juyeon,” you can practically hear his teeth grinding as he speaks. You hum.

“Stripper boy,” you bob your head. “That’s what I’m gonna call you.”

“Please don’t—”

“Anyway,” you interrupt again. “I don’t know if you know this, but romance movies are fictional. Of course, it’s not gonna look like the prop door and they’re gonna catch it like it’s nothing. This, however,” you hit your fist against your door, “is solid metal. Not gonna feel good when you catch this shit, dumbass.”

“Whatever,” Juyeon rolls his eyes and straightens his body out. “I was just making my rounds across campus, wanted to see if you’d be interested in supporting your local fraternity.”

You raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out to take the flier from his hand. 

College Hunks Hauling Junk!

Need to get rid of some junk? Well, these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited-time offer)

Scan HERE to book your appointment!

“College hunks hauling junk,” you can’t help but laugh at the name and take the flier from Juyeon’s hands. He grins at you. “People are actually paying you guys to haul their shit away?” 

He shrugs. “It’s free, technically. You’re allowed to donate, but we’re really just doing it for free. You know, help out fellow students and spread the word.” 

“You sure it wouldn’t be easier to just do some stripping if you can’t pay the rent?” You ask. “Also, what do you mean spread the word?” 

“I’m glad you asked.” Juyeon points a finger at the bottom of the flier, completely disregarding the first part of your sentence. Fuck, his hands are big.

This ad also doubles as your invitation to Tau Beta Zeta’s parties for the rest of the semester. Cash this in at any time and get into ANY parties for free! (Code word will be given at the time of flier being cashed in) (Girls get in for free, Guys $5 @ the door)

“We’re having a little competition with the sorority down the road from us,” Juyeon explains. “Whoever has more people by the end of the semester gets to host the end-of-the-year party and the other frat or sorority has to buy food and drinks.” 

You stare at the paper for a second, pondering your options. Then you smile, look up at the man that you are still pretty damn sure is a stripper, and hand back the flier. 

“I’m good, thanks.”

The door shuts, and you turn to go back to bed. The sound of paper sliding across the ground stops you, and you can see in the faint light that streams under your door that Juyeon slipped the flier into your room. 

Fucking try hard.

The second time you see Lee Juyeon, he’s handing out fliers again. Only he isn’t walking around random apartment buildings with a weird seductive look that you honestly don’t doubt was working. This time, he’s in a hoodie and jeans and walking around the center of campus with people that you can only assume are his frat brothers. 

At first, you almost don’t recognize him, but then his eyes meet yours, and you can see the corners wrinkle when he smiles. Again, you’re confused. Is he smiling at you? 

Your head whips around, trying to find someone around you that he might be looking at, and when you turn around again, Juyeon is approaching you.

“Have you thought about it, pretty girl?” He asked and you stared at him dumbly for a moment. Did he just call you pretty girl? 

“Thought about what?” He holds up that flier again, placing it in your hands similarly to the other night. “Oh.”

“Did you think I was kidding?” He leans down slightly, keeping eye contact. Your free hand places itself on his chest— which you hadn’t realized before was very solid— and pushes him back. He barely moves. In fact, you are the one who gets pushed back. 

“Listen, stripper boy—”

“Juyeon—” 

“Stripper boy,” you mimic the exasperated tone he uses with you. “If I wanted an invitation to a stereotypical frat party with a bunch of drunk 20-somethings and cheap beer and bad pizza and try-hard men like yourself, I would’ve gone by now.” You fold up the flier, smoothing out the edges before holding it out to him. He doesn’t take it, and you can see the gears turning in his brain. 

“So what you’re saying,” he starts to smile and steps toward you again.”

“Stripper boy,” you warn.

“…is that there’s a chance?”

“Absolutely not, there is not a chance in hell that I’m gonna call some college hunks to haul junk out of my college apartment that I can barely afford to live in let alone pay you to take things out of.” Juyeon shrugs.

“Like I said, payment is optional and can come in…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “many different forms, pretty girl.”

“That’s gross, stripper boy.” You scrunch up your nose and he laughs. “Also, why are you calling me that?”

“Calling you what?” his smile only grows and you huff. 

“Pretty girl.”

“Because you are a pretty girl.” 

“No, I’m—” You catch yourself in the sentence when he leans forward onto the tips of his toes, ready to stop you. “You know what, fuck you. I know that was a dirty little trick and I’m not gonna fall for it just so you can swoop in and say something like oh nooo, don’t say that about yourself! You’re so pretty! And then you’ll tuck my hair behind my ear and you’ll try to kiss me and then—” You stop yourself again. Juyeon’s smile is almost scary at this point, stretching all the way across his face as if this had been his plan all along and you walked right into it. 

“And then…?” He teases. 

“…fuck you and your frat, stripper boy. God, you guys are such try-hards.”

You hold onto the flier this time, whether too embarrassed to give it back or genuine curiosity, you aren’t sure. You do know that you can’t stop the pounding in your chest, or the heat rising in your cheeks. 

“Who was that?” Sunwoo slings an arm over Juyeon’s shoulder, both men watching you walk away with the flier held tightly in your hand. Juyeon smiles. 

“Just someone I know.” 

“Didn’t look like she was too happy to see you.” Sunwoo snickers and drops his arm down to stand straight. Juyeon turns to the younger man, the smile he had when standing with you now gone and replaced with a permanent scowl. 

“Who even asked you, Sunwoo?”

The younger raises his hands in defense. “I’m just saying! It looked like she hated you. Oooh, maybe you’re finally gonna get that enemies-to-lovers arc that Eric is always— WHOA, HEY—” Sunwoo nearly trips over himself trying to get away from Juyeon as the older frat brother swings his arm out in his direction. “Don’t hurt this pretty face! How else is the soccer team gonna get their funds?” A hand in the shape of a finger gun finds its way under Sunwoo’s chin, and the star soccer player smirks. 

“I think they’ll manage,” Juyeon swings his arm out again, wincing when Sunwoo lets out an ear-piercing squeal. 

It’s like you’re seeing him everywhere. Every class you go to, it’s like he’s always there handing out fliers or chatting with his friends. And, unfortunately, every time you see him, he sees you too. He animatedly waves at you, calling your name or running over to you. Every time, you somehow end up with another flier to add to your collection.

For weeks you’ve been seeing him in places that you swear you’d never seen him in before. You swear that he’s not in your environmental course. You swear that he’s not in your sociology course. He just has to be following you. 

That, or you just have shitty luck with Lee Juyeon.

It must be bad luck, you think as you watch the fire department evacuate your flooded building. It must be, you tell yourself as you stand there in the pouring rain in pajama shorts and a sweater, sans an umbrella. There’s nothing else it could be.

Your eyes narrow at the sight of Juyeon standing near a group of girls with those damned fliers in one hand and some umbrellas around the wrist of the other. Your hands tighten around your arms, body shaking from the cold of the rain. Your lips twist into a deep frown when he approaches you, his eyebrows knit together and his lips pursed at the sight of you. His mouth opens to say something, and you hold your hand up to stop him. 

“Save it, stripper boy. I don’t want your fucking spiel right now.” His shoulders slump a little.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted an umbrella.” He holds one out, the last one on his arm. “You have to be freezing right now, and you’re absolutely soaked.” Your hand wraps around the umbrella, your eyes still narrowed with suspicion.

“Thanks…” he smiles and backs up to give you space to open it. You would never admit to his face that he was right. That you were freezing your ass off in this godforsaken weather. 

“Are you okay?” You look up at him, sniff, and shrug.

“I mean, my home is currently flooding which leaves me homeless for at least a few days. It’s piss-pouring rain out here, I’m in my pajamas with all my clothing inside the flooded building, and now here you are probably trying to get me to buy from your stupid fundraiser thing.” You take a deep breath, finally looking him in the eye. “So no, I don’t think I’m okay, Juyeon. Thanks for asking.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then a small smile breaks onto his face.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Juyeon.” You bite your tongue and turn to walk away from him. “Wait, fuck, Y/N it was a joke. I’m sorry.” He grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. You can see a little bit of panic in his gaze. 

“Yeah, well it was a shitty joke.” You scoff. 

“I know, poor taste, I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He pulls his hand from your arm, and you almost feel bad. It’s quiet between you two, and you think that this is the first time it’s ever been completely silent. Well, save for the chatter of other tenants and incoming sirens and the yells of officers. 

“This fucking sucks,” you grumble, and Juyeon huffs out a laugh.

“Do you have anywhere that you go?” 

You shake your head. “Nah, none of my friends have space for another person in their apartment or dorm.” 

“You could stay with me.” He says it so fast, so suddenly, that you thought you misheard him at first. 

“Excuse me?” Juyeon clears his throat, his cheeks and ears flushing and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold or embarrassment. 

“I— I mean you— I’m just—” he stumbles over his words and you smile. 

“Is the Lee Juyeon embarrassed right now? In front of little ol’ me, nonetheless?” 

“I’m not embarrassed,” he snaps, pressing the back of one of his hands to his neck in a poor attempt to cool himself down. “I’m just— I—”

“Juyeon,” your hand comes up to his arm and he flinches. You let your arm drop down to your side. “Are you trying to ask me to stay with you while the building is being repaired?” 

You’re smiling at him, and it’s like that tiny action brings back all of his previous confidence. He’s smirking again, leaning down under the tiny umbrella he gave you. It’s your turn to blush now, but your eyes don’t leave his.

“Because,” your voice nearly betrays you. “That would be a little…odd…wouldn’t it? A girl living with, what, ten men? People would talk.” He hums.

“But they would also find it odd if I just…left you to live in your car for god knows how long, wouldn’t they?” His hand is on your waist, and the breath in your lungs hitches. 

“That’s true…” you hum and pull away from him. “I don’t have any clothes, though. I’d need to find some before doing anything.” Juyeon clicks his tongue and leans back, a thoughtful look taking over the previous…you don’t even know what to call what you were doing. Was he flirting with you? Were you flirting with him?

“That’s true,” he nods his head. “We can grab some from the store tomorrow? And for now, you can borrow some of my stuff— I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” He stumbles over his words again, and you can’t help but laugh. “Kevin’s clothes might fit you better but— you’re laughing. Why are— why are you laughing at me.”

“You’re just—” You break into another fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your hand to try and muffle the noise. “God, you’re so dumb.”

“How am I dumb?” Juyeon pouts at you, and you know he just wants you to be comfortable. 

“Never mind,” you wave him off, “let’s just get going. I’m tired and wet.” Juyeon raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Not like that, stripper boy.” 

“I know,” he grins at you and tugs you by the sleeve to get you to start walking. “I just wanted to mess with you a little bit.”

“Seems like that’s all you do.” You roll your eyes. “And please tell me you drove here. I am not walking to the house in shorts and slippers.” Juyeon clicks his tongue. 

“As if I would walk anywhere in this weather.” He reaches into his pocket and you hear the click of a button, and then the lights of a car in front of you light up. He jogs forward, grabbing the handle of the passenger side door for you with a bright smile on his face. “After you, m’lady.”

“What a gentleman,” you shut the umbrella and duck into the vehicle. 

“Only for you, pretty girl.” He winks at you and shuts the door.

Juyeon is quiet when you exit his bathroom. Your hair is wrapped in a towel, your body swamped in Juyeon’s clothes. He’s lying flat on his back on his mattress, his legs dangling off the edge and his fingers drumming on his stomach. Your feet shuffle against the ground, the fabric of his sweatpants covering your feet entirely and dragging behind you. His t-shirt is almost like a dress on you, hanging down to your thighs and the sleeves baggy along your arms where it would be formfitting on him. 

“Where should I put these?” Juyeon lifts his head, and you hear a sharp inhale. He’s staring at you, and the gaze is heavy with something you can’t place. 

“You—” his voice cracks and he sits up fully, resting his elbows on his knees. “You can just toss them in the basket next to you. I’ll— I’ll wash it tomorrow.” You hum, doing as he says and tossing your clothing into the basket. 

His room is…weirdly clean. At least, it’s cleaner than you expected it to be for a frat boy. There’s a bit of laundry scattered across the room, sure, but you don’t feel gross just standing there. The floor is clean, the bed is made. 

The bed.

The one bed in the room. 

“Where— where should I set up a spot to sleep?” You wring your hands behind your back.

“What?” Juyeon stares at you dumbly, his eyes blank and jaw dropped slightly. If you look closely, you swear you can see a puddle of drool on the floor in front of him. Unintentionally, you snort and immediately slap a hand over your mouth. 

“I just— I mean this is your room, stripper boy.” You shrug, trying to keep the air as light as possible. “Where should I set up camp for the next three days?”

“You are not sleeping on the floor.” Juyeon shakes his head and pushes off the edge of his bed.

“Then where am I gonna sleep?” 

“The bed?” He says it as if it’s obvious. “The fuck? You really thought I was gonna make you sleep on the floor?” 

“Stripper boy, I am not sleeping in your bed.” You click your tongue.

“Yes, you are, pretty girl.” He takes a step toward you. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor! First of all, you’re a guest. Second of all, I’m a gentleman. Third of all, I’m—” he cuts himself short again and you raise an eyebrow.

“Well, then I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. That’ll solve it.” You move to the door, but he grabs your upper arm and pulls you toward him. “Dude, you have got to stop grabbing me like that. It’s kind of annoying.”

“Sorry.” He exhales and lets go of your arm, brushing his hand across the skin he grabbed as if to soothe it. It sends sparks of heat through your arm, and you fight back a shiver. “I just— what if we share my bed?” 

You stare at him for a moment.

Then another.

And then another.

And then Juyeon is wincing and stepping away from you. 

“I was just— that was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“I mean…” you purse your lips. “If it solves the problem, then sure.” 

“Wait seriously?” His eyes bug out of his head and you laugh. “You’re comfortable with that?” 

“Stripper boy, if you thought I was gonna kick you out of your bed, then you have a whole new thing coming.” He rolls his eyes. “We can just…I dunno. Put pillows between us?” 

“Yeah, that works. That works just fine.” He sighs heavily. Just fine. He’s gonna be just fine these next few days.

Juyeon realizes very quickly that it will not, in fact, be fine. He realizes this when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the pillows between the two of you thrown to the edge of the bed and your body wrapped around his like a vice. One of your legs is hooked around his, the other strewn across his hip to lock him down. You have one arm tucked under his, holding his shoulder while your free arm has slipped around his waist, under his shirt so your fingers are splayed across his abdomen. Your head is seemingly strategically placed on his chest, and he can feel every breath you release. He can feel every pulse of your heartbeat against his leg—

Wait.

…

Oh, this arrangement is not going to be good for his heart. 

He tries desperately to shift away from you, to gently pry you off of him, anything to get the pounding in his chest to go away. Anything to stop the blood from rushing to his dick like some goddamn virgin. It’s a normal thing. It’s not something to get fucking hard over, Lee Juyeon. Pull yourself together.

It feels like ages before he’s able to pull himself free, nearly falling out of his bed to get away from you. He freezes in place when he hears you shift, a quiet moan leaving you when your sleeping self finds the spot Juyeon once lay frozen is now empty. His heart is pounding, his feet padding quickly against the floor to get to his bathroom. He’s quick to shut the door, cringing at the squeak of the hinges. Gotta get those fixed, he notes. For future reference, of course.

He’s hard in his sweats, his dick straining against the fabric, and his body feels like it’s on fire. Juyeon leans against the counter, tapping his foot anxiously while he stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and his pupils are blown out. He grips the marble counter, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to god that he softens soon because he cannot and will not jerk off to you. Not when you’re right there, one thin wall over. 

Thinking that was a mistake. His dick twitches in his pants at the thought of you waking up and finding him in the bathroom, cock in hand, and frantically trying to rub one out. 

Oh, he’s so fucked, he squeezes his eyes shut as he shoves his sweatpants down just enough to be able to grab himself. Just enough for him to spring free and let the cold air wash over him. 

Juyeon is completely, royally fucked, and he knows it as he spits on his hand. He knows it when he wraps his hand around his cock. Juyeon knows it when his body shudders from the first pump of his hand, the brush of his thumb across his tip. He knows it when he fights the whine trying to erupt from his throat. 

He knows it when he cums in his hand, ropes of white covering his palm when he places his hand over his tip to minimize the mess. He knows it when all he thought about was you. You and your pretty face. You who calls him stripper boy, who hasn't hesitated to shoot him down every chance you get. You who he’s pretty damn sure is into him in the same way he’s into you.

It’s hard for Juyeon to get back in his bed and lie down next to you knowing that just a few minutes ago he came in his hand to the thought of you. It’s even harder for him to fall back to sleep when you wrap yourself around him again, relaxing against his body and releasing a contented sigh. He tries so, so hard to relax with you, to steady his pounding heart. 

God, he’s so fucked.

"When did you get here?” There’s a boy— a man, really— standing at the counter when you and Juyeon walk into the kitchen in the morning. The man is holding a ceramic Garfield mug that you assume is filled with coffee, and he’s got his phone in his free hand. You give him a short wave, and he nods back at you. 

Juyeon had been odd the whole morning. Or, at least, the two hours you had been awake and the one hour since he’d woken up and immediately rolled to his feet to get away from you. Something about morning wood. Since then, he’d been keeping a healthy distance from you, flinching away from your touch and giving short responses to your questions and statements. It makes you nervous. Were you intruding? Did he regret asking you to stay? 

“Last night,” Juyeon answers for you, leading you to the bar counter and pulling out a chair for you to sit in. “Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He’s the Tau Beta Zeta president. Sangyeon, this is Y/N. She’s gonna be staying with us for the next couple of days.” 

Sangyeon squints at you, gnawing at his lip in thought. 

“And you guys are…what? Friends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?” You scoff and Juyeon whips his head around, nearly spilling coffee onto his hand. 

“None of the above,” you wave your hand and almost miss the flash of emotion in Juyeon’s eyes. “Just someone who needed a hand, and strip- Juyeon happened to be there.” Sangyeon turns to Juyeon with an inquisitive look on his face. Juyeon shakes his head and turns back to you with two mugs in his hand. 

“I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just threw some cream and a bit of sugar in there.” The mug he slides over to you is shaped like a ladybug, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the sight of his mug. Normal, compared to yours. Just plain white with text that says ‘Stupid people shouldn’t breed!’. “What’s so funny?”

“Just the…interesting arrangement of mugs you all have here.” You smile at Juyeon, but he just scoffs. Sangyeon excuses himself and pats Juyeon on the shoulder before making his exit up the stairs.

“I’ll have you know that I picked these all out.” He defends, but you can see the embarrassment in the flush of his cheeks, the dark color spreading to the tips of his ears. “You got a problem with them?”

“No, no,” you smile into your mug and take a sip. It’s bitter, and a bit watered down, but you’re grateful for the caffeine boost. “It’s cute, really. You made some great choices, stripper boy.” 

“That sounded sarcastic,” Juyeon pouts at you and you shake your head.

“It wasn’t!” You reassure him, leaning your torso onto the counter. Juyeon stands near you now, on the shorter edge of the counter and he scoffs. 

“Sure it wasn’t. Because you’re the most supportive person in the world of my decisions.” He turns away from you, staring at the magnetic words on the refrigerator instead of at you and you rise from your seat to stand by his side. 

“Juyooo,” your voice is sing-song in tone and Juyeon fights every instinct inside of him that screams to pin you to the counter and fuck you senseless. “Are you mad at me?” 

“Of course I am,” he rolls his eyes and tilts his chin up when you come to stand in front of him. 

“Why?” You frown, but the corners of your lips fight to turn up.

“You made fun of me!” 

“Yeah, but it was all in good fun!” You protest. “I think your choice of mugs was cute!”

“No you don’t,” he scoffs and crosses his arms. “You think they’re stupid.” 

“No,” you shake your head. “I think they’re adorable.”

“Bullshit,” Juyeon says. “You think they’re stupid.”

“I do not.” You groan. 

“You do!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do no—” 

Juyeon’s lips are on yours, and you let out a startled gasp, your hand flying up and finding purchase on his chest. 

You try to push him off, you really do! You think about it, you tell your body to push him off, and then somehow you end up pulling him closer, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Isn’t it so weird how that happens?

Your hand is holding his shirt tightly, keeping him close to you while your lips mesh in a sloppy kiss. His lips are rough against yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip and then his tongue slips out and soothes the bites. The repeated actions have your legs trembling, your breathing becoming shaky, and your hand that isn’t in his shirt rises to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.

His hands are all over you. They run up and down your waist, brushing under the waistband of the sweatpants he lent you, pushing into your back to keep you close to him. They run under your shirt, grazing the underside of your shirt, and he smiles when he feels you exhale shakily against him. 

You hesitantly, and ever so slowly, push your tongue out, letting it run across his lower lip and you’re a bit too pleased when he opens up for you immediately. He lets you push your tongue into his mouth, lets you explore, and is ever so patient with your hesitance. 

Gently, oh so gently, he sucks on your tongue while you try to pull it back into your mouth and you release the tiniest, almost inaudible whine. 

Apparently, to your complete dismay, this snaps Juyeon back into reality and he pulls away from you. He pulls away quickly, almost stumbling back and into some of the bar stools. You’re standing there, almost in a daze, and both of you just stare at each other for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, and Juyeon can tell that you’re regretting what the two of you just did. 

And it hurts. It really hurts when you open your mouth, going to speak and nothing comes out. He smiles sadly. 

“I should find a way to get to the store. You’re gonna need some clothes for the next few days.”

“Juyeon, wait—” You reach for him, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s fine, pretty girl.” He reassures you, but his voice breaks and betrays him. “No hard feelings. Let’s just forget it happened.”

“I don’t want to forget that!” You protest, but Juyeon just shakes his head.

“Like I said, pretty girl,” He grabs his mug and smiles at you. There’s no emotion behind it, at least not one that you want to recognize. “We gotta get you some clothes for the next three days.”

It’s infuriating how quickly he seems to move on. Three days pass by, and not once has he even hinted about talking about what happened. It was almost like he’d forgotten about it entirely.

Which, to your dismay, was exactly what he wanted you to do. It wasn’t as if you regretted the kiss, at least not in the way he thought. The regret that you knew you had let slip was from pulling away in the first place. You had only meant to come up for air, knowing that you would likely drown in him had you given yourself the chance. Now, due to your own stupid mistakes, the tables have turned for you. 

He’d been avoiding you since you moved back into your apartment two days ago. He’d avoided you in the classes you were now all too aware that you shared. It stung that he no longer sought you out, no longer yelled your name from across the room, and drew unwanted attention to you. He no longer pressured you to call the number on that damn flier that sat untouched on your desk.

“You could always just, I dunno,” Chanhee is lying on your bed, scrolling on his phone while you rant about his frat brother. “Call the number? I’m pretty sure it’s his number anyway.” 

“Wait seriously?” You spin around in your desk chair, turning away from the project you two are supposed to be working on together. 

“Yeah, it just happened to be really convenient that the last four digits of his phone number spelled junk. What do you think of this?” He flips his phone around to show you a coat. A black trench coat, nothing too fancy about it. 

“Eh. You have plenty of those, don’t you?”

“True.” He nods and lays back down.

“Should I really call him?” You lean your head back on your chair, lacing your fingers together on your lap. “What if he hates me, Chanhee?”

“Trust me, Y/N,” Chanhee exhales heavily, “that man does not hate you.”

“But how do you know that?” You ask. “If he told you that, he could be lying to you!”

“Girl,” Chanhee throws his phone down onto your mattress and sits up straight. “If a man hates you, he is not going to jack off at 3 in the goddamn morning— with his frat brothers in the other room that connects to his bathroom, mind you— to the thought of you. Trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t— I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes are bugging out of your head and Chanhee grimaces in a way that tells you that he was not supposed to tell you that. 

“Oops…” 

“What do you mean he— Chanhee, what are you talking about?” Chanhee is already rising from your bed, grabbing his laptop, and sliding his shoes on.

“I think it’s time for me to get out of here,” he tells you with a tight smile on his face. He comes toward you though, holding the flier in his hand. “But, I really think you should call this number. Could really help you both, I think.” 

When the door shuts behind your classmate, you sit in silence for a moment. A few moments, really, just holding the first flier that Juyeon ever gave you in your hand. There’s a little bit of water damage from the flooding, but the number in the middle of the page is still there. It’s almost ironic that Juyeon’s phone number is the only part of the advertisement that isn’t ruined, like something was telling you that you needed to call Juyeon. 

Your phone rings once, then twice, and you hear the line click on the other side.

“Thank you for calling College Hunks, what junk can we haul for you today?”

It takes Juyeon a little over an hour to get to your apartment. By that point, you’d gathered anything that you didn’t want into trash bags and set them in your living room. Each bag is organized to an extent. Things to be recycled, to be donated, or just thrown away. Most of the items that needed to be thrown away were damaged when your apartment building flooded, each damaged beyond repair. Almost like fate, isn’t it?

There’s a knock on your door. One, two, three. Your hands are shaking a bit when you grab the door handle. One, two, th—

You practically rip the door open before Juyeon can finish knocking. He’s standing there, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. The outfit he’s wearing is the same as the day he first showed up at your door. White tank top, cargo pants, and some worn-out sneakers. For once, his hair isn’t styled. He’s parted it down the middle, a little bit of gel used to keep it from falling into his face too much. 

“Hi,” you breathe out. It’s like Juyeon is stuck in a trance, his hand still frozen mid-knock and his mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. “You— do you want to come in?” Juyeon blinks. 

“Uh…yeah, yeah sure.” You step to the side, allowing him to walk into your apartment. It’s awkward, to say the least. When you shut your door, the click makes both of you flinch and suddenly you’ve forgotten everything that you wanted to say to him. 

“Is this—” Juyeon’s voice cracks a little bit, and he turns to face you but he doesn’t look you in the eye. “Is this everything?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “yeah it is. Needed to get rid of some stuff after the building flooded, you know?” You laugh, but he doesn’t and you’re quick to shut your mouth. Say something, dammit. Anything. Your mind is screaming, whether at you or Juyeon you aren’t entirely sure. “Juyeon, can we ta—” 

“I should get started then,” he cuts you off and you grimace. “Got a couple of appointments today, so I can’t linger for long.”

“Right…” your voice trails off. “Yeah, I’ll get out of your way then.”

Plan A is a bust, then. 

Juyeon moves quickly. You don’t know if it’s work ethic or if he wants to get away from you as fast as possible, but it stings. You don’t say anything to each other the whole time, not that you staying in your bedroom the whole time did anything to help the situation. You can hear him moving around, carrying bag after bag down to his car, but not once does he come to talk to you. Not even about the junk he’s carrying out. 

Your forehead is against your desk, your eyes shut tightly as you try to block out the noise, knowing that he’ll be carrying out the last bag soon. The sound of your feet tapping on the ground is almost enough to drown out Juyeon, but not quite enough to drown out the knocking at your bedroom door. 

Your head snaps up, and you spin around to face Juyeon. 

“Hi,” he gives you a tight smile. “I just— I brought out the last bag so I guess— I guess I should go, huh?” 

Don’t, you want to tell him, don’t leave yet.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You stand up and clear your throat. “Here, what’s your Venmo? I can send you some money.”

Juyeon shakes his head. “I already told you that you don’t have to pay me.” 

“Yeah, you did,” you agree. “But I’d feel bad if I let you leave empty-handed.” 

“I’m not leaving emptyhanded, though!” He argues. “I have your junk! Which, surprisingly, all fit into the trunk of my car.”

“Go you,” you cheer halfheartedly. “That’s not gonna stop me from paying you.”

“Pretty girl,” he warns. “I’m not gonna let you pay me.”

“Then I’ll get Chanhee to tell me your Venmo.” You grin and Juyeon rolls his eyes. 

“You’re not gonna let this go, will you?”

“Nope,” you let the sound of the p pop when you say it and Juyeon lets out a dry laugh.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?” 

“That’s the plan.” you look at him, and this time he’s looking right back at you. The awkward air has cleared, and it almost feels normal. Like it was prior to the kiss. God, please let Plan B work. “Are you gonna tell me what your account is, or am I gonna have to find some other way to pay you?” 

There’s a spark of something in Juyeon’s eyes, and his eyebrows knit together. Please get it, please get it, please get it. C’mon Juyeon, don’t be dense.

“Some other way?” He echoes, and you mentally cheer when he steps toward you. 

“Mhm!” You bob your head. “Like you said, there are other ways to pay you, aren’t there?” 

He’s right in front of you now, and you swear you see him start to reach for you before he’s forcing his hands back down to his sides. 

“You’re not—” he inhales and squeezes his eyes shut. “Please tell me I’m not misinterpreting this.” 

“Depends on what you think I’m saying.” You smirk, and Juyeon starts to lean down, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips. 

“What I think you’re offering,” he speaks slowly and you can feel his breath on your lips. “Is not exactly…appropriate, pretty girl.”

“And I think you’re right.” You’re practically whispering, every movement from your mouth causes your lips to brush against his and you’re so close to caving and just yanking him down to crush his lips against yours. 

Thankfully, Juyeon moves fast and he’s grabbing you by the waist to yank you to him and your hands are in his hair by the time his lips are on your. 

This kiss is heavier than the first. It’s messier and sloppier and his tongue is in your mouth, pushing at yours and licking at every nook and cranny that he can reach. You walk him backward to your bed. You don’t separate your mouths, not when you push him down onto your mattress, not when you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little crescents indented into his skin. 

Juyeon groans at the stinging feeling, sliding his hands under your shirt and gently pushing it up. He does it slowly, giving you time to stop him, but you get impatient and shove him back until he’s lying down. His hands are still on your waist, and he’s watching with a hazy gaze as you lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere across the room. 

“Shit, pretty girl,” he breathes out and tries to slide his hands up to your chest. You’re smirking when you slap his hands away. 

“No touching yet,” you tell him and he groans in response. 

“You can’t just do this and not let me touch you!” He whines. “It’s not fair!” 

“You should’ve thought about that before you ignored me for a week,” you retort and he falls silent. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just get you back with this.” Your hands reach behind your back and you swiftly unclip your bra and throw that in the direction you’d thrown your shirt in. Juyeon’s hands lurch up to touch you again but you’re faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down to his sides with a click of your tongue.

“Y/N please,” Juyeon begs, his breath hitching in his throat when you leave him completely, and he can only watch as you unbutton your jeans and tug the rest of your clothing off. He’s practically drooling as he sits up, watching you undress for him. He watches you walk to your dresser, digging through your drawers for a moment before returning with a long piece of silk. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking joking.” 

You laugh at his reaction and toss the silk onto the mattress behind him. 

“Why would I be joking, Juyeon?” You stand between his legs, and you grin when he doesn’t even try to touch you this time. You can see the tent in his cargo pants and let your hands trace up and down his thighs. “Take off your shirt for me?” 

There’s a dangerous look in your eye, one that Juyeon can’t find himself wanting to disobey and he’s lifting his shirt over his head without a second thought. Your eyes widen ever so slightly and Juyeon can’t help but smirk. He knows he’s attractive, knows that his body catches people’s attention and he’s proud of that. 

With you, however, there’s something different about how you look at him. Something primal, like a predator looking at her prey and he shifts in his spot. 

“Pants too.” He nods and rises to his feet again, tensing when you raise your hands. “What are you stopping for? Get moving, don’t you have other appointments to get to?” Your hands are tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the way he flinches at your touch. You continue to trace his body as he bends down to lower his pants and boxers to the ground. Your hands raise to the backs of his shoulders, to the back of his neck, and let them slip down to his pecs when he stands straight again. 

You almost let yourself falter when you see his cock for the first time. It’s big, bigger than any you’ve taken in the past, and you can’t help but imagine what he’d looked like when he was thinking of you. Did he look as messy as he does now, eyes practically crazed, his breathing labored as he fisted himself? Did he watch himself in the mirror, imagining it was your hand instead of his own? 

“So pretty, baby.” You breathe out, letting your hand drop down to wrap around his cock. He sucks in a breath, letting it out when he whines at the feeling of you running your hand up and down, squeezing at the base, and rubbing your thumb along the tip. “So pretty.” 

You push him back again, releasing him from your grasp and following him as he slides up your bed. You take the silk in your hand, gesturing for him to put his hands above his head, tying the silk tightly around his wrists so he can’t get loose. Juyeon lets out another broken whine when you straddle him, running your fingers over your core and gathering the wetness on your fingers. You allow yourself to moan quietly, gauging Juyeon’s reaction to you touching yourself. He’s staring with his mouth hanging open, his cock twitching against his abdomen as he watches you sink two fingers into your core. He whines when your body shudders against him, when you curl your fingers up into you. 

“Is this what you think about, Juyeon?” You try your best to keep your voice steady when you speak. “Do you think about this when you touch yourself? When you lock yourself in the bathroom, jacking off to the thought of me like some little virgin?” He doesn’t respond, too lost in the sight of you riding your own hand. 

He doesn’t see you reach your free hand up, gasping when he feels you squeeze your fingers around his throat. Not too tightly, but enough to get his attention back on you. 

“I asked you a question, baby.” You pull your fingers out of your dripping pussy, gazing at the arousal covering your hand and humming in thought. “I guess I should give a reason to not answer, shouldn’t I?”

“Please,” Juyeon whispers out, and you smile when you raise your fingers to his mouth. 

“Go on then,” you tell him, “suck.” 

His head lurches forward, taking your fingers into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. He runs his tongue along your fingers, and you inhale sharply, your eyelids drooping when he tries to open his eyes, trying to watch and gauge your reaction. 

“Cleanin’ me up good, hm?” You pull your fingers from his mouth and Juyeon takes this time to catch his breath, to gather himself. You don’t give him long though, no more than a few moments before you’re grabbing his cock in your dainty hand and lining it up with your pussy. 

“Fuck,” Juyeon throws his head back, his hands curling into fists, and groaning as you sink down on him. Your walls are squeezing so tightly around him, and he knows it has to be a stretch for you but you act as if it was nothing for you, as if he didn’t hit that sweet spot inside of you just by you sinking down on him. You let your eyes drift shut, fighting back the urge to start riding him until he has nothing left to give you. You can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s close just from your warm walls squeezing around him. “Fuck, pretty girl, please.”

“Please what, baby?” You coo, the hand on his throat squeezing gently. He whines and you grin. “Use those words, pretty boy. You can do it.”

“Let me fuck you,” he gasps out and you let out a yelp when he thrusts his hips up and sends you falling over his body. 

Your breasts are in his face now, and he doesn’t give you the chance to do anything before he’s bringing his arms down and trapping you against him as best he can. He thrusts his hips up, driving his cock into you at a pace that you couldn’t keep up with if you tried. He reaches his head up, his teeth latching onto one of your nipples and practically forcing you to follow him as he brings his head back down. Juyeon sucks at your breast, pinning your chest against his face with his arms that he’s brought to rest between your shoulder blades. Every one of his thrusts sends you up his body, but he does his damn best to keep you in place, sucking and licking and biting at both of your tits, groaning every time your cunt clenches around him. 

You feel like you can’t breathe, the air being punched out of you in broken moans and pitched whines. Juyeon is in about the same state as you, the noises he’s letting out are louder than yours, more frequent, and it brings a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. 

“Are you close, pretty boy?” You gasp out. “Gonna— gonna cum for me?” 

“Fuck, yes,” He throws his head back, his hips stuttering against yours. You bring one of your hands down to your clit, rubbing furious circles into it, letting your walls flutter around him and drawing both of you closer to your orgasms. 

When you cum, it has you seeing stars. Your orgasm has you crying out his name, has you clenching around him so tightly that he’s finishing not long after you. You sink your body back, rolling your hips gently over his and placing a firm kiss on his lips. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, swallowing the sounds he makes as he pumps white hot cum into your core. It’s less of a kiss this time, though, and more teeth gnashing together and biting at each other’s lips. 

His hips slow down after a minute or two, and you let your body relax against his, reaching up to untie the silk around his wrists. 

“Fucking finally,” he groans and lets his hands roam your sweaty body. “Thought I was gonna die if you kept me tied up any longer.” You laugh, letting your head drop to his chest. 

“That’s what you get for making me wait.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at you. “And you called me a try-hard.”

“Because you are, Juyeon.” You roll off of him, staring at your ceiling while you lay next to him on your mattress.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he rolls his head to look at you with a cheeky grin on his face. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Your eyebrows knit together. He just keeps smiling. “What, stripper boy.”

“You know what all this means, right?” You shrug.

“That I have to go to all your parties now or you’re gonna hunt me down?” He laughs and you smile a bit.

“That, and I get to call you my girlfriend.”

“I never agreed to that.” You deny, turning on your side and facing him fully. 

“Sure you did! It was at the very bottom of the flier I gave you.” He tells you.

“No, it wasn’t.” You frown.

“Yeah, it was!” He sits up, reaching for the second flier he gave you that had been placed on your bedside table. “See? Right there at the bottom in tiny font that I knew you wouldn’t pay attention to!” You squint at the words he’s pointing at and let out a scoff.

“Seriously, stripper boy? If your name is Y/N L/N and you redeem this offer, you are legally obligated to become Lee Juyeon’s boyfriend, whether you like it or not. Xoxo.” You push the paper back into his hands. "When did you even put this on there? We hardly knew each other when you gave me this flier."

“I told you!” He beams and lays back down. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

"Cute, but that doesn't answer my question, stripper boy." He digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer to him, and grins.

"Does it matter?"

"I mean...I guess not?"

"Exactly."

“Does this mean that when we break up, I get half of all your assets?” He glares at you playfully.

“Fuck, no.”

“Damn…” you sigh and lay down with your head on his chest. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you for life then, huh?”

“Mhm.” He cards his hands through your hair, gently combing through the knots. “You excited to spend the next 75 years with me, girlfriend?”

“Not at all, boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are.”

“…Try-hard.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[prettyboysun]

SEEING STARS

SUMMARY: It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of schoolwork for you.

GENRE: smut, fluff, mild angst, crack

PAIRING: Kim Sunwoo x afab!reader (ft. Hoshi, Dino, Sangyeon, Kevin, Eric, Yuta, and Jay (Enhypen))

WC: 9.4k (you'd think i was doing this on purpose)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: mentions of injuries (concussions, Sunwoo gets sucker punched), Eric slander, Sunwoo slander, Hoshi stirring up trouble, Sunwoo being stupid, car sex/public sex, p in v sex, fingering, mentions of face fucking, marking, hair pulling, attempts at dirty talk kinda? idk if you can even call it that but wtv, i think that's really it

A/N: Part 3 of the collab is out! If you haven't checked out Try Hard or Excitement (written by my beloved Fawn) please do! Otherwise, please enjoy this. Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

In Sunwoo’s defense, everything that happened was Eric’s fault. It was definitely not Sunwoo’s fault that he believed his best friend when he told him that he should absolutely kick a ball at the girl of his dreams so she could bring it back to him and she would fall for him too and then they could live happily ever after. It also wasn’t Sunwoo’s fault that he forgot that he was their university’s star soccer player and that he had really strong legs. 

At least, this is what he tells himself while sitting in the ambulance with you, who is currently passed out with a lump the size of a clementine on your forehead. He’s nervously gnawing at his fingernails, chewing them to nubs with his eyebrows furrowed. The EMTs said that you’re stable, that you just have a mild concussion but they want to take you in and get you checked out to be sure. 

“Are you her…friend? Boyfriend?” One of the EMTs looks at Sunwoo with a curious look in his eye. 

“Friend, just a friend,” he says, but there’s a dark cloud hovering above his head that anyone could see if they tried hard enough. 

“Is there anyone that we can call? Anyone else that we should inform?” Sunwoo shrugs.

“Not that I know of. Her family is across the country so they wouldn’t be any help right now, right?”

“Right,” the EMT agrees. “I suppose you’ll be helping her out the next couple of weeks, making sure no one else is hitting her in the head with soccer balls?” Sunwoo grimaces and nods. 

You’re never gonna like me at this rate, he thinks to himself. God, why did he ever listen to Eric in the first place? What made him think that Eric, the man who spends 90% of his time completely bitchless and watching hentai, would give him good advice about women? 

Now he’s gonna have to deal with student loan debt, lawyer debt, and being single for the rest of his life. 

The first thing you see when you wake up is white. Not, like, a white ceiling. No, your vision is pure white for a few moments, and then you swear that you’re seeing stars. You can faintly, over the pounding of your head, hear someone speaking. The voice is familiar, but you can’t quite place it over the ringing in your ears. 

“…Eric, I swear to fucking god if I ever see you again, I will shove my foot so far up your ass— I don’t care if you thought it would be a good idea! I concussed the richest girl in school, the girl of my dreams mind you, because you thought it would be a fantastic idea to kick a ball at her!” 

You blink a few times, clearing your vision, and you can see a boy to the right of you. He’s wearing a soccer uniform, the same uniform your university’s team wears. You blink again, and now he’s facing you with a nervous smile plastered onto his face. 

“Hi,” he breathes out and you smile at him. 

“Hi…Woo…sung?” You wince at the poor attempt. Of course, you know who he is. Anyone would recognize the star soccer player. Maybe you weren’t positive about what his name was, but you knew him. 

He laughs, but it’s a humorless one that has both of you cringing after.

“Close,” he tells you with a smile. “Sunwoo.”

“Right,” you nod, but the action causes a painful throb to run through your skull. “Fuck, why does my head hurt so much?” 

Sunwoo laughs again, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and avoiding your gaze.

“About that…” his hand combs through his hair, pushing it out of his face despite it not being there in the first place. “I…may or may not have kicked a ball in your general direction, which may or may not have proceeded to hit you in the head and give you a concussion.” 

You kiss your teeth, eyebrows knitting together as you look at him. He begins to ramble, talking about how it’s his friend’s fault, and he really never meant for it to hit you. It’s cute, really, the way he practically falls to his knees and begs you to not sue him. 

“Sunwoo,” you try to interrupt, but it’s like he doesn’t hear you. He’s speaking too fast, too frantic, and you’re pretty sure he’ll faint if he doesn’t pause for air soon.

“I— I will do anything you want, I swear! I’ll— I’ll carry your stuff around campus for you. I’ll take all your notes so you don’t have to look at the screens. Fuck— I swear, I—”

“Sunwoo,” You reach your arm forward, wrapping your fingers around his forearm and his pacing jerks to a stop, his words caught on the tip of his tongue when you lock eyes. “I’m not gonna sue you.”

“You’re—” his voice cracks, “you’re not?”

“No,” you laugh and wince when your head begins to throb again. “Although, I wouldn’t mind if you helped me out with my schoolwork.” 

“I…” he trails off, his heart sinking to his stomach. “Yeah, yeah of course I’ll help you. But— but you really aren’t going to sue me? Because— because I wouldn’t mind if you were that mad at me but I think I would really rather you just have me arrested at that point, you know?”

“I promise, Sunwoo.” You squeeze his forearm, and his cheeks begin to darken with a tinge of pink. “I’m not gonna sue you.”

As it turns out, having the star soccer player around to do anything and everything you want him to is rather convenient. Sunwoo picks you up every day for your first class in his old, beat-up Toyota Corolla. He opens the door for you, hands you a fresh go-cup of your favorite coffee from your favorite cafe (which you aren’t sure how he knows, to be honest), and brings you to each and every one of your classes. It’s almost weird how you’ve gotten used to having him around.

“By the way,” you look up at Sunwoo as you’re getting into his car after your last class of the day. Sunwoo looks down at you, smiling brightly and you can feel yourself starting to melt at the puppy-like look in his eye. “Are you even taking classes this semester?”

Sunwoo tilts his head. “I mean…yeah? I kinda have to, you know, to play soccer.”

“But…you’re always with me these days. Are you not missing your own assignments? Your own exams?” 

“I don’t have any exams during your classes,” he informs you and then shuts the passenger-side door, gently to not hurt your head. You let your body rest against the tattered fabric seat you’re in, waiting for Sunwoo to get to his side of the car. “Plus, I have friends in my classes that send me shit when I’m not there.”

“You skip your classes often?” Your lips curl into a sly smile, one that he returns quickly.

“You know it, babe.” 

Your body tenses just slightly, not enough for him to notice. It was likely instinctive for him to say that, and you would never admit to anyone how the words had butterflies forming in your stomach, pushing against your flesh, and threatening to tumble out of you if he made one wrong move. 

Sunwoo slams the door of the frat shut and presses his back against it as soon as he enters the building. His eyes are squeezed shut, so tightly that he can see stars and it starts to hurt. 

“You alright?” Eric is sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees with a Nintendo controller in his hands. He isn’t looking at Sunwoo, his eyes trained on the fourth Five Nights At Freddy’s game being displayed on the TV in front of him.

“I don’t even want to talk about it.” Sunwoo dismisses, dropping his bag on the floor and tossing his keys into the bowl to his right. “Especially not with you.”

“The fuck did I do?” Eric’s eyebrows knit together, and Sunwoo scoffs as he walks behind the couch to get to the kitchen. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you were part of the reason that Y/N L/N is now concussed and probably hates my guts so I’m trying to fix it by helping her out with all of her school work, which is hard as shit, by the way. Did you know that she’s a mechanical engineering major?”

“No shit?” Eric’s eyes flick away from the TV screen for just long enough for him to nearly miss an animatronic approaching him. “I wonder if she’s in any of my classes.”

“Probably not,” Sunwoo sighs, grabbing a glass from the shelf and pouring himself some water. “She’s in Sangyeon’s year so her classes are a bit more advanced than yours.”

“Ah,” Eric bobs his head, tongue wedged between his otherwise tightly sealed lips. Sunwoo watches him play for a moment, wincing at a few jumpscares while he downs his water. “What’s that gotta do with me, anyway? Isn’t this, like, bonding time for you two? Finally land your girl?”

“Well, would’ve been perfect if, a) she hadn’t hated me and b) I didn’t call her babe in the car today.” 

Silence from Eric, and Sunwoo briefly wonders if his best friend had even heard him. 

“Why the fuck did you do that?” Eric pauses the game and tosses his controller onto the couch next to him as he turns around. 

“It was an accident!” Sunwoo defends. “It just kinda…slipped out while I was talking to her. A reflex!”

“You called the girl you concussed babe on reflex?” Eric exclaims in disbelief. “Are you stupid?”

“Says the one who suggested kicking the ball at her!”

“Yeah, well at least I didn’t give the girl of my dreams a concussion!”

“It was your fault!” Sunwoo yells, and Eric scoffs.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you feel better.” 

“He called me babe, Soonyoung,” you’re laying face down on your friend’s bed, kicking your feet in the air behind you with his tiger plushie tucked under your arms. 

“Mhm,” he’s not paying attention, instead focusing on the tiger Lego set that you had given him for his birthday. “Very nice.”

“Ugh, and he’s so sweet too.” You continue to ramble, grinning like a mad woman when you recall the notes he had diligently taken for you despite not knowing a damn thing about Applied Measurements. “Did I tell you about the notes he took for me the other day? The ones that he—”

“—Color-coded and annotated for you?” Soonyoung interrupts, finally slamming down the little pieces of plastic in his hand. You flinch at the noise. “Left little notes about things he found interesting or didn’t quite understand but tried to explain anyway? Yeah, you told me.”

You duck your head, trying to ignore the throbbing. It had mostly gone away, but occasionally loud noises would spike pain through your skull. 

“Sorry…” you mumble, letting your legs fall flat on the mattress. Soonyoung turns to face you, pursing his lips. 

“Y/N, if you like this kid so much then why not ask him out?”

“It’s not like that!” You protest, but a sharp look from your best friend makes you backtrack. “At least, not for him. He’s just doing this because he feels bad for me! And besides, I’m a few years older than him, so wouldn’t it be weird?”

“How is that weird?” Soonyoung inquires, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “He’s of age, isn’t he?”

“Of age,” you scoff and make air quotes. “What is this, the 1600s?” 

Soonyoung glares at you and sits back in his chair. “I don’t care if you’re concussed, I’ll make that lump in your skull bigger if you push me.” 

At his warning, you huff.

“Okay, fine, yes, he is. But it’s weird for me! I’m a senior in college, about to enter the work force if I can get my senior project proposal done, and he’s just a sophomore! He’s the university’s star soccer player, he’s just starting to get ahead. I don’t want to, like, stunt that for him.” 

“Y/N,” Soonyoung rolls his chair toward you with a sympathetic smile on his face. “I can almost guarantee that Sunwoo will not care if you’re a few years older than him. I don’t think he’ll care if he’s just starting college. If I’m being honest, he finds that all the more reason to be attracted to you. Young men love older women— but you aren’t old!” He quickly backtracks before you can cut him off. “You’re not old, and believe me when I tell you that not a single person in the world would be doing this for someone that they weren’t attracted to.”

“Are you sure?” You sit up, wrapping your whole body around the tiger plushie, and Soonyoung nods.

“I promise.”

“Then…how do I get him to know that I…that I’m also attracted to him?” 

Soonyoung grins and you feel your heart drop. 

“Boy, do I have some ideas for you.”

Sunwoo is getting worried. The last four days have been ridiculously quiet for him, his days empty and dragging on without you around him. 

You were avoiding him, he could tell. Whenever he showed up to pick you up from your dorm, someone else was already there. A man, your age and clearly friends with you if the wide smile on your face said anything. You would lock eyes with him, your smile falling when you saw the confusion and hurt in his eyes. You would turn your gaze away and the man would get your door for you, laughing about something you said. 

Then there was the avoidance of his texts. He would ask if everything was okay, how your head was doing, random jokes or comments about things he saw on campus. Things that he would tell you had you been with him during the day. It wasn’t like it was unusual for the two of you to text now. In fact, it was weird when you weren’t messaging each other about something but now…

It’s like you’re trying to block out his existence. 

“I’m telling you,” Kevin hands Sunwoo a case of beer, cutting into the younger man’s frantic rambling. “She’s probably just busy, dude.”

“Then why wouldn’t she tell me?” Sunwoo pouts, carrying the case into the house. Kevin follows with a case of his own.

“Hell if I now,” he scoffs. “You think I have time to psychoanalyze everything rich girls do?”

“I mean…isn’t that your whole thing?” Sangyeon chimes in. “Psychoanalyzing everything about everyone?”

“That’s not the point,” Kevin waves his hand in the air and huffs. “I’m busy enough with my own classes and practices, I can only do so many things at once.”

“Sunwoo,” Sangyeon turns to the soccer player with a stern look in his eye. “This is gonna be one of our biggest parties yet, I need you on top of your game to make sure people are enjoying themselves.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Kim Sunwoo,” Sangyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulders with an exasperated look on his face. “If I hear you ranting about the girl you concussed one more time I might just lose it. I’m putting you on door duty for the night.”

“What the fuck do you mean door duty?” 

Sangyeon scans the room for a moment before his eyes land on a metal detector stick that Hyunjae had bought as a part of his last Halloween costume. 

“Here,” He tosses it to Sunwoo and smiles sarcastically. “Use this, make sure people aren’t bringing weapons in or whatever.” 

Sunwoo looks down at the metal detector in his hands, eyebrows knitting together. 

“You’re serious?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Are you sure that your plan worked?” You’re peering up at Soonyoung with a nervous look in your eye when you roll up to the TBZ party. “You’re sure he’s—”

“I’m positive, my dear.” Your best friend pats the top of your head, squinting at the frat house down the road. “I didn’t think this many people were gonna be here tonight.” 

“Sunwoo mentioned that it was gonna be a big one,” you murmur. Soonyoung turns his gaze to you and sighs at the pout on your lips. You look pitiful, to be honest. At least in attitude, that is. 

“Y/N,” you look at him again, “if Sunwoo doesn’t fall head over heels at this party and fuck you until you literally cannot walk then I give you full permission to give me a concussion, just like he did to you. Look at you! You look absolutely stunning!” 

You find yourself smiling at Soonyoung’s words. He’s not wrong, you do look stunning. A loose, short black dress that dips down at your chest to reveal just enough cleavage. The straps are jeweled, glittering under the lights and highlighting the jewelry around your neck. The dress itself stops just low enough that it covers everything but shows enough to tease, and you’re wearing sleek black pumps with an ankle strap so your feet don’t fly out of them (you’d made that mistake before. Never again…). 

“Now,” He claps his hands together and grins. “Let’s go get you your man, and get me a drink.” 

In hindsight, you probably should have known that the party would not have been good for your head. Loud noises had never particularly been something you enjoyed. A lot of people assumed you loved parties due to your financial status, but that wasn’t true. In fact, you were a bit of a recluse. You had only a few friends, though you were nice to nearly everyone you met. Sunwoo happened to be an exception. 

He wiggled his way into your life with that soccer ball, and you truly don’t think you can see a future without him in it, even if he just stays a friend.

The second you walk up the driveway, your head begins to pound, your vision flashing with stars, and you squeeze Soonyoung’s arm tightly to keep yourself from wobbling on your feet. 

Then you see Sunwoo at the door, a large bucket to his right, and a hand-held metal detector in his hand. You can see him scanning people, waving girls in, and then stopping men and pointing at the bucket. You feel a lump forming in his throat when you take in the sight of him. His hair is a mess of curls, the same curls you’d come to love since he gave you a concussion. He’s dressed in a tight-fitting black tee shirt and baggy jeans, nothing fancy but it brings the butterflies back to your stomach in full force. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” The man in front of you scoffs at something Sunwoo said, and you blink yourself back to reality. 

“$5 at the door,” Sunwoo shrugs, “sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

“It’s your frat!” The man yells. Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow.

“Yeah…do I look like the president or something?” The man stays silent and Sunwoo sighs. “Look, I don’t have the time to deal with you. Are you in or not? There’s a line of people behind you, and all of them wanna get in so you should probably pick fast.”

The student huffs, digging into his pocket for a dirty $5 bill, tossing it into the bucket, and shoving past Sunwoo. The soccer player just rolls his eyes and sighs again. 

“Who’s up next—” he chokes on his words when he sees you, his eyes widening and his jaw-dropping. You smile nervously, raising your hand in a tiny wave while Soonyoung throws a few ones into the bucket. 

“I’ll see you in there,” your friend says to you. “Text me if you need me.” Soonyoung squeezes your hand and nods at Sunwoo before walking into the house. You step to the side, letting people move past you but keeping a little bit of distance between you and the frat boy who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you yet. 

“You’re here,” Sunwoo says, not even looking at the continuous line of people walking into the house without paying. “You’re— why are you here?” 

A sheepish smile crawls onto your face. “Do you…not want me here?” Sunwoo panics, shaking his head rapidly and grabbing your hand in his. 

“That’s not— that’s not what I meant.” He tells you, and you can’t help the warmth in your cheeks. “I just— your head. This can’t be good for your concussion, can it?” 

You kiss your teeth, nodding slowly. “Yeah…Kinda got a little bit of a migraine right now.” You don’t tell him that the concussion has completely healed.

“Let’s— let’s get you someplace quieter, ba— Y/N.” He tugs at your hand, pushing you in front of him and covering your ears with your hand. He leans in close to you, his lips brushing the shell of one ear and you feel your breathing hitch in your throat. 

“Cover your eyes a bit and look down, I can’t block your vision but I can shield your ears a bit, babe.” He lets it slip out this time, and you do as he says. 

Sunwoo walks you forward, and you can see feet shuffling around the two of you. His hands do more than you expected, the sounds around you fairly muffled and dulling the throb in your skull. His body is so close to yours, his legs bumping into you with every step, but he keeps the two of you steady. Someone knocks into you, and Sunwoo says something to them, something harsh that you can’t make out over the noise of the party. He stops walking for a brief moment, now talking to someone else. You faintly hear a name, Chang-something, and then he’s fleeing the scene, knocking into you on his way out. 

Sunwoo steps to your side when you reach a staircase, talking into your ear so you know exactly where each step is. Another person bumps into you, and Sunwoo takes a hand off your ear to wrap it around your waist.

“You can drop your hand,” he tells you. “The lights aren’t flashing over here.” You nod, and you feel his hand drop at the same time yours does. You’re still walking up the stairs and even though you don’t need help anymore, his hand stays on your waist, the touch sending electric shocks throughout your body. 

Sunwoo feels like he’s going to throw up.

Scratch that. Sunwoo is going to throw up. 

He really hadn’t expected to see you here. In fact, he hadn’t expected to see you at all for the rest of his college days. Had you finally decided to sue him? Are you serving him? He hadn’t seen any documents with you, but maybe—

“I’m not suing you, Sunwoo,” you sit on his bed with one leg crossed over the other. Your dress rides up your thighs, something Sunwoo tries desperately to ignore but he just can’t. “You can relax.” 

You can relax, he repeats the words in his head over and over and over again, but he can’t. In fact, his body just grows more tense with the time that passes. Sunwoo tries to look at you, and then he tries not to look at you. There’s a heat in your gaze, and he can’t tell what the emotion behind it is. He hopes it’s not anger, he prays that you haven’t gotten angry with him. 

“Are you—” he clears his throat. “Who was the guy you were with?” You tilt your head and he clarifies his question. “I just— I’ve seen him with you a lot these days so I was just— I just thought—”

“Who, Soonyoung? He’s not my boyfriend,” you tell him and laugh when he visibly deflates with relief. 

“Good. I— I mean that’s— I just—” his face feels like it’s on fire, his stomach churning when you continue to laugh at him. When you wince and bring your hand up, he practically trips over himself to find an unopened bottle of water for you. 

“How’s your head?” Sunwoo asks you, quietly now. You shrug and slide over so he can sit next to you on the edge of his bed.

“Concussion is better, just can’t do loud noises.” Sunwoo nods and you continue. “At the last check-up, my doctor said that I might get some headaches here and there though, at least for a little while.”

“Then why are you here? At a party?” 

“I…guess I just wanted to see you?” You had this all planned out with Soonyoung. Why are you so nervous?

Sunwoo’s eyebrows knit together. “Why would you want to see me?” 

“You’re joking, right?” You can’t help the scoff that leaves your lips, regretting letting it out when Sunwoo flinches and looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just…there’s no way that you don’t know by now.”

“Know what?” He presses, hoping that you’re saying what he’s been dreaming of you saying since he saw you on his first day at this university. You’re so close to him now, mere inches from him, and he fights every instinct inside of him that says to close that distance. He wants to hear everything you have to say.

You open your mouth to speak again, and there’s a knock on the door. Both of your heads whip around as it swings open, and Sunwoo’s heart sinks when he sees Soonyoung, the man you had entered the building with. He almost looked distraught that he’d entered the room. 

“Hi, so sorry to interrupt. Um…” he looks at you with a grimace. “We gotta go.”

“What?” Your eyebrows furrow. “Why? I was talking with Sunwoo—”

“Yeah, sorry again, but we gotta go.” Sunwoo watches you get up, albeit reluctantly, and you turn to him. 

“I’ll…we’ll talk later, okay?” You smile at Sunwoo, but you turn away before he can say anything to you. 

“Promise?” He calls out, but the door is already shutting behind you.

You really did intend on texting Sunwoo after, to continue your conversation, but ‘after’ turns into two days, and then four, and then it’s been a week, and suddenly it’s almost finals. You know that Sunwoo’s game is today. The last game of the season. He’d raved about it a few times while studying with you. You knew how excited for it he was, knew how hard he was practicing to make sure he was in his best shape. 

“What do you mean he’s about to be taken off the field?” You snap into your phone, scanning the lot around you for somewhere to park. It’s dark out, the lights in the lot hardly working so it makes it difficult to see any free spots. “Fuck, why is it always so fucking busy at these games?”

“He’s missed every shot— DAMN YOU DECELIS. YUTA GET THAT DAMN BALL—” You pull the phone away from your ear when Soonyoung starts to yell, hearing the crowd in the stadium erupt into cheers. “Another point to Decelis Uni. Anyway, no he’s been like…really off in his games, the only reason he isn’t off already is because of Lee Chan.”

“Thank god for him,” you sigh as you put your car into park. “Listen, I just parked, so just give me five minutes to get in there. Maybe he needs a good luck charm or something. Fuck it’s cold out here. Why did I wear a skirt to this damn game?”

“Did you just call yourself his good luck charm?”

“No, I just—” you huff.

“No, you’re right. I think you are because when you guys were talking, he’d been playing better than ever. Things went to shit after my plan.”

“Yeah, thanks for that by the way.”

“Any time, best friend. Get here soon. Maybe there will be a time out and you can kiss him or something.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

You shove your phone into your pocket, running toward the stadium as the crowd erupts into cheers again.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Lee Chan grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder when half-time is called. Both boys are dripping with sweat, exhausted from the game. There had been so much back and forth between the two teams, keeping them tied almost constantly for the past 45 minutes. “You’ve been playing like shit for three games in a row, Kim Sunwoo. This isn’t like you. I’m not afraid to get Coach to bench you if you don’t get your shit together.”

Sunwoo huffs, grabbing his water bottle from the bench and ignoring his teammate so he can hydrate. 

“I’m fine, just not feeling great.” He dismisses. Chan’s lip curls into a sneer. 

“If we lose this game because of you, I swear to fucking god I will get you kicked from the team.” 

“You wouldn’t do that,” Sunwoo rises to his feet and glares down at the team captain. He may be the star player, but it takes more than skill to hold a team together. Lee Chan has that ability. Morals, respect from his teammates, he has everything. That’s why Sunwoo backs down when Chan straightens his posture. 

“You think I fucking won’t? Remember who got you on this team in the fucking first place.”

Sunwoo’s ears start to ring, and he can hear someone yelling his name. It sounds distant, and he swears he’s imagining it so he ignores it. 

It happens again, louder this time and grabbing Chan’s attention as well. Both players whip their heads toward the crowd, and Sunwoo’s stomach drops. 

There you are, shoving your way through the crowd to get to the barrier. People yell at you, and you say something that shuts them up. He’s in awe, staring at you and the distressed look on your face. You wave your hands to get his attention, and Chan shoves him again.

“If she’s why you aren’t on top of your game, you better fix shit right now. I’m not losing this one, Kim Sunwoo.”

“Yeah, got it.” It’s like he’s running on autopilot, walking toward you and then running. There are three minutes left in half-time, so he needs to make this fast. 

“What are you doing here?” Sunwoo grabs onto the barricade and hauls himself up so he’s face-to-face with you, ignoring the people yelling around the two of you. 

You grin at him, a mischievous look in your eye. 

“You don’t want me here?” The panic in his eyes makes you laugh, and you lean toward him. He smells of sweat and grass and your nose wrinkles. 

“I don’t— you know that isn’t what I meant.” He snaps, but you know he isn’t mad at you. 

“Soonyoung said you were playing like shit, figured I’d find out why.” You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you so he can’t leave before you talk to him.

“I’m just distracted today.” You scoff and he narrows his eyes at you. “What?”

“You’ve been practicing for this game for weeks now, Kim Sunwoo. What could possibly have you so distracted today?” 

He hesitates, and you already know his answer. 

“I don’t have time to talk right now, Y/N.” He’s biting his lip, anxiously flicking his eyes to the clock behind him. You roll your eyes. Of course, he wouldn’t answer you. You knew he wouldn’t give you a straight answer, knew he was too nervous between the game and having you right in front of him to fully focus. 

“Then I’ll make this fast.”

“Make what—” your lips are on his, your hand on the back of his neck to hold him close while you kiss him. His body stiffens and then relaxes, and then his hand comes to your arm to keep himself stable. His face slides against yours, transferring his sweat to your body and you pull back.

“Win this game,” you look into his eyes, but it’s like he can’t focus on you. He looks like he’s in a daze, and you tug at the strands of his hair to get his attention.

“I— yeah, I’ll win.” He promises but he sounds far away. The buzzer goes off. “I— what was—”

“If you win this game, you can take me on a date.” You grin and let go of him. Chan yells Sunwoo’s name and the boy pulls back from you reluctantly. 

“Anywhere I want?”

“Anywhere.”

“Promise?” His eyes are shining when he looks at you. You smile, placing another gentle kiss on his plush lips.

“I promise.”

He’s running away from you now, a new lightness in his feet that had been missing the past two weeks. There’s fresh energy in his muscles, in his bones, and that overconfident attitude that his teammates and opponents despised returns in full force.

“I take it I’m not gonna have to pull you off the field?” The Coach eyes Sunwoo as he jogs by. Sunwoo slows and turns back with a wicked grin on his face. 

“Not a chance in hell, Coach.”

“Can’t believe you kissed him.” Soonyoung nudges you with a grin, and you roll your eyes.

“Why? Didn’t think I had it in me?”

“No, it’s not that,” he shakes his head and lets out a sharp whistle when Sunwoo steals the ball from the opposing team. “He was covered in sweat and grass. Don’t you hate that shit?”

“Worth it,” Soonyoung snorts when you smile at him. 

Since the start of the second half, Sunwoo had already brought their team into the lead by two points. You’d never seen him play before, but everything you’d heard was true. He was fast, agile, and strong. He was a beast on the field, keeping himself just out of reach of all the other players. You can tell the other team is starting to get agitated, starting the get rough with your school’s team. 

You bite at your thumb as you watch the game proceed. Two minutes left in the game, and they’re tied again. You can see all the players getting tired, everyone slowing down. Sunwoo seems to be the only one with the energy to keep going, but even he seems to struggle. 

30 seconds and Sunwoo has the ball again. The stadium has gone quiet and you could swear that you hear the ticking of the clock. 

10 seconds and Sunwoo is almost to the goal, you stand from your seat, and people around you rise as well. Anticipation. Tension. The stadium is filled with it. People start cheering again, the other school starts yelling at their team to move their asses. 

5 seconds and the crowd goes silent. Sunwoo is on the ground, a player from the other team on top of him. Players from all sides are running over, trying to see what happened. The announcers say that the opposing player, Park Jongseong, tackled Sunwoo, his hand unintentionally jamming the star player’s nose. A medic rushes over, but Sunwoo waves them away. You can’t see his face very well, but you can tell by his posture that he’s agitated.

Jongseong is penalized, and his coach takes him off the field for a moment. Sunwoo is set in front of the center of the goal, pacing while he waits for the ‘ok’ from the referee. He glances up at the crowd, and for a moment you swear that he looks at you. For a moment, you swear that you can see him smiling at you, through the throbbing in his face and the ache in his body. You could swear that he’s telling you I’m gonna win this. Trust me.

Jongseong is back on the field, the clock is set. The referee raises his hand, an indirect kick. Sunwoo rolls his neck, jogging backwards to get a headstart. Yuta and Chan are both ready to receive a pass. 

The clock starts.

5

Sunwoo is running. You and the rest of the crowd are yelling at him to run faster. He does.

4

The ball is sailing through the air, Chan and Yuta and all the other players on the field are running for the ball. Yuta gets there first.

3

Yuta kicks the ball, but another player knocks it out of the air. Sunwoo is already waiting, stealing the ball and moving to an open space.

2

Sunwoo kicks the ball and watches it sail through the air. He doesn’t stop running, not when there’s still time on the clock

1

The crowd erupts into cheers, deafening you and you feel Soonyoung grab your shoulders, shaking you and yelling just as loud as everybody else. You feel a yell building in your chest.

0

They’ve won. Sunwoo is being hauled into the air by his teammates, The other team is sulking by their coach. You can’t go to him. Not yet. The crowd is beginning to clear, some people moving from the stands to leave the stadium and chat with their friends, to wait for the team to come out. 

“You coming?” Soonyoung quirks an eyebrow at you but you know that he already knows the answer. A shake of your head confirms his suspicions and he grins. “Go get your man. I won’t interrupt this time.” He makes his way down the stands to the parking lot, and you smile while walking down to the field. The teams have dispersed now, done with talking to their coaches and making their way to the locker room. Sunwoo hangs back, talking with Chan as you walk across the turf. Your heart is pounding in your chest, so hard you fear it’ll burst from behind your ribcage. 

Chan sees you first, jerking his head in your direction and clapping Sunwoo on the shoulder. Sunwoo turns as he walks away, and you can see the way his eyes light up when he recognizes you. 

“I told you I’d win, didn’t I?” He grins at you when you get closer, but you don’t respond. You’re only a few steps from him now, and you take a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Your face is bruised…” you have to force yourself not to jump his bones right there, instead focusing on the blooming bruise on his right cheek. Your fingers brush over it and he doesn’t even flinch.

“It’s nothing,” he reassures you, resting his hands on your waist. “It’ll be gone in a week, I promise. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” 

You smile back at him, craning your neck to look him in the eye. 

“You think my head is pretty?” 

“I think everything about you is pretty, babe.” Your cheeks heat up and he presses a kiss to your lips. It’s gentle, far less frantic than the one you gave him on the bleachers. Your hand trails from his cheek to the side of his neck, holding him close to you. Your lips part against his, your head tilting to give a better angle to kiss him at and he inhales sharply. Your body is on fire everywhere he’s touching you. Your waist, your lips, your neck. It feels electric and it pains you when he forces himself to separate from you, his nose brushing against yours. 

“All that for winning a game?” he breathes out, pressing a light kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I should win more often if this is gonna be my reward from now on.”

Your lips curl into a smirk. “I’ll give you more than just a kiss if you want, Kim Sunwoo.” 

It takes him a moment to process what you said. Sunwoo stares at you, eyes wide and jaw hanging open for so long that you almost consider taking back what you said. 

“You’re— what happened to take me to dinner? What happened to hello, how are you?” His grip on your waist tightens and you shrug. 

“I have more important things in mind.” Sunwoo’s whole body is tense, so tense that you feel like he’ll combust on the spot if you aren’t careful.

“I’m covered in dirt and sweat.” He tries as an excuse but you scoff. “I don’t think you wanna fuck me while I’m like this, right?” 

“Do you really care about that?” He takes a deep breath.

“Me? No. I just…If I go with you right now I swear to god I’ll cum in my pants and I really don’t want that to happen during our first time together—”

“Sunwoo,” You grab his chin between two fingers and he snaps his mouth shut. “I don’t care about any of that. I care about you. I want you, whether or not you’re covered in sweat.” You reach one of your hands up, pushing his soaking wet hair out of his face and his features soften. 

“You really…you like me, don’t you?”

“I figured it was obvious when I kissed you in front of the whole stadium, Sunwoo.” You kiss your teeth and step away from him. His grip loosens on you and eventually falls when you continue to back away from him, that sly grin still on your face. 

“Where are you going?” He trails after you like a lost puppy but you just shrug. 

“Come with me if you wanna find out.”

You silently thank god when you find the parking lot already half empty. Sunwoo’s car is a distance from most other cars, tucked under some trees that cast shadows over that old Toyota Corolla. 

“You’re—” Sunwoo is cut off when you open the door to his back seat and shove him in. You hear some people behind you howling, briefly turning your head to see his teammates cheering him on. 

“Get some, Kim Sunwoo!” Lee Chan screams and you laugh before crawling into the car behind Sunwoo. 

You turn just enough to slam the car door shut, and then you’re on top of Sunwoo. He tugs you onto his lap, your skirt riding up enough to expose your thighs to him, but you give him no time to process anything, your lips already crushed against his. It’s sloppy, but the whine he emits just from the pressure behind it has heat curling in your stomach again. Your tongue dips into his open mouth, and he pushes against you with more force that you had anticipated. He curls his tongue around yours, sucking and licking at it, and your body begins to shudder against his. 

Sunwoo drags your hips down against his own, groaning at the feeling of your heat against his growing member. 

“Can’t wait to be inside you,” he hisses when he pulls away, moving his lips down to attach to your throat and sucking harsh marks into your skin. You whine at his statement, grinding against him of your own will once he’d set the rhythm. He feels so good against you, pressing against your clit in just the right way to have you curling against him with broken whines spilling from your lips. Sunwoo moves one of your hands to your hair, jerking your head to the side to expose more of your skin to him, and you know he grows impatient when your shirt gets in the way. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks you, his eyes glittering when he looks up at you.

“Really think I’d say no to you?” You smile, reaching your hands down and pulling your shirt off and tossing it somewhere in the front seat. Sunwoo looks like he’s in heaven when you unclip your bra and throw it back with your shirt, baring your breasts for him.

“Fuck…” he breathes out, cupping one in his hand and brushing his thumb over your nipple. You force yourself to keep your breathing steady, to let him do what he wants. “You’re so pretty, baby. Wanna drown in your pretty tits.” 

“Yeah?” You ask, your voice breathy. “Who’s stopping you, then?” He looks up at you like you’re his goddess, like he’d worship you every day and every night if you’d let him.

“Really?” He hardly waits for a response before he’s shoving his face into your tits, laving at the valley between them before ultimately choosing one to focus on with his mouth. He sucks at the nipple, tugging at it between his teeth and listening to the delicate whines you let out. The other breast doesn’t go unnoticed, one of his hands palming at it and tweaking the nipple for a few minutes before he switches sides to give each of your breasts the same treatment. 

You haven’t stopped grinding on him in this time, your eyelids fluttering shut while your roll your hips over Sunwoo’s. You can feel his dick twitching in his soccer shorts, can feel him fighting the urge to jerk his hips into yours. 

“Sunwoo,” you choke out, tugging at the strands of his hair. It doesn’t stop him, in fact you could swear that the action makes him suck harder on your tits and your voice breaks into a moan. “Sunwoo,” 

This time when you speak, you yank his head back. He whines, his neck now at an awkward angle as he tries to sink back into your chest. 

“Whyyyy,” he drawls with a pout. His lips are puffy and covered in spit, similar to your chest and you already know he’s sucked marks into your skin that’ll be visible for days after this. 

“Wanna fuck you, baby.” You plead. “Wanna fuck you so bad.” 

His eyes roll into the back of his head at your tone, and he pushes you off of him just long enough to shove his clothing off. You do the same, noting the way your panties stick to your slick cunt. With a smirk, you discreetly tuck them into the center console while his back is still somewhat turned to you. 

By the time he’s turned back around, you’ve stripped yourself of all your clothing and sunk your fingers into your core. Your eyes have fluttered shut with two fingers inside of you and your thumb rubbing circles into your clit. 

“What are— what—” Sunwoo sounds like he’s going to cry, and you force your eyes open. He’s staring at your glistening folds with a look of pure hunger and you can only assume heartbreak as you finger yourself. “Why are you—”

“Gotta get myself ready for you,” you tell him with a pout. “Don’t—f-fuck— wanna make sure you fit i-inside of me.” Your back arches off the door and Sunwoo lunges for you, yanking your hand away from your pussy. The suddenness of the action makes you yelp, your eyes fly open again when Sunwoo sinks your fingers into his mouth. You can’t tell if the moan he lets out is genuine or if it’s for show, but it’s guttural and has your walls clenching around absolutely nothing. His tongue laves over your fingers, sucking them as far into his mouth as he can, getting as much of your taste off of your fingers as humanly possible before pulling them from his mouth and lowering your hand back to your side.

“That’s my job,” Sunwoo hisses, and then he’s lowering his body down so he can be level with your pussy. Two of his fingers prod at your entrance, and your hips jerk toward him against your well. He clicks his tongue when he sinks them into you. “Loosened your little cunt up a little bit already, hm? Gotta stretch you out even more though if I wanna fit inside you.” 

You can only whine when he sinks a third finger into you, scissoring them inside of them and curling them into that sweet spot inside of you. The stretch begins to sting, ever so slowly ebbing away and being replaced by pure, unadulterated pleasure. 

“Oh god, Sunwoo.” You gasp out, your hand wrapping around his wrist but you can’t exactly figure out why. To slow him down? To force him to go faster? “Feels so fucking good, please.” You feel a coil beginning to tighten in your stomach as his fingers punch into that spot time and time again, his thumb rubbing harsh circles into your clit similar to how you were. Fast learner.

Sunwoo grins at the way your face twists and contorts with pleasure, the way you try to control how your hips buck against his hand, the guttural moans you emit. 

“Gonna cum, babe?” He knows the answer. He knows by the way you clench against him, the way your cunt tries to force his hand out.

“Yes,” you whine out, “yes, gonna c-cum. Sun-Sunwoo, please.”

“Please what, babe?” He coos. “Can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.” Just to tease you, he slows down. “Do you want me to stop?”

“NO,” you cry out, taking matters into your own hands and fucking down onto his hand. “Ple-please let me cum!”

“Ohhh, I see.” He hums and drives his fingers into you faster, harder. Your whines and whimpers have become broken little sobs. “Fuck, babe, it’s like no one’s ever made you feel like this.” He can’t help but laugh when you clench down on him again. 

“G-Gonna cum, Sunwoo!” He just hums, watching as you clench down once, twice, and then your body is jerking against his hand. Your cunt tries to force him out one more time but he continues to drive into you and work you through your first orgasm of the night. 

When your body has stopped shuddering, Sunwoo finally pulls his fingers out of you. He raises them up a bit, just enough for you to see the way the mix of your arousal and your cum. 

“Look at all this, baby.” He holds his fingers out to you with a broad grin on his face. “Have you ever tasted yourself?” Your eyes come back to focus when he prods his fingers against your lips. You let him sink his fingers into your mouth, nearly gagging when they hit the back of your throat. “Tastes good, doesn’t it?” 

You swallow around his fingers, taking in the bittersweet taste on your tongue. Sunwoo watches you with hazy eyes when you take hold of his wrist again, holding his hand close to you while your tongue swirls around his fingers. You know exactly what he’s thinking, know exactly what’s going on behind those hazy eyes of his, and have to force yourself to pull off of his fingers when you know you’ve cleaned him off completely. 

“Fucking minx,” he growls and grips your hips tightly in his hands, flipping you over so you’re on your hands and knees. “Did that on purpose, didn’t you? Knew I’d think of you sucking my cock, think of you gagging on it as I fuck your pretty little face?” You don’t have a response this time, only moaning when he shoves his cock into you with one harsh thrust. 

He gives you no time to adjust, gives you no time to work through the sting it brings you but you don’t mind. Not when the stretch feels so good. Not when his cock is fucking into at a pace so harsh it has your body sliding across the seats. Your arm reaches out, hand desperately trying to find purchase on something, anything to hold you steady against the roughness of his hips slapping against yours. 

His hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair and yanking on it to pull you against him. Your moans become louder, harsher until they’ve turned into screams and cries of his name. You can feel the fabric of his car’s seats digging into your knees, feel the old Toyota Corolla rocking back and forth while the windows fog up with the heat of your sinful behavior. 

One of Sunwoo’s legs slips down to the floor of the car, but he doesn’t slow as he adjusts his position. It gives him a new angle, new strength to fuck into you harder and faster, bruising your insides as he practically punches into your cervix from the force of his thrusts. 

“How does this feel, hm?” He coos into your ear, his breathing heavy from overexhertion. “Does this feel good? Am I fucking you good, baby?”

“S-so good!” You cry out. “Fuckin’ me s’good, Sunwoo!”

“Yeah?” He bends you over again, this time hunching over your body and humping into you like a dog in heat. Your back arches into him, your body shaking with seemingly neverending pleasure. “Gonan cum f’me?” Sunwoo’s arms are all over you, pinching at your nipples, squeezing your waist, gripping your ass. His lips place firm kisses onto your spinal cord, sucking hickies into your skin that no one but him will see.

“YES!” Your voice breaks and you cum again, squeezing so tightly around his cock that he emits a moan so loud and sharp that you fear you’ve broken him. 

Sunwoo pumps white hot cum into you in thick ropes that spill out while he continues to fuck you, overstimulating you both. The mixture of your cum drips down your legs and onto the fabric seats, and you pray that whoever sits back here after you doesn’t notice the white stain in the middle seat, doesn’t think to ask about this mystery stain and that Sunwoo refuses to give them an answer.

When his hips finally slow, when his dick finally softens inside of you and he slips out, you let your body sag against the seat. Sunwoo grimaces at the sight of you, dark marks littering your skin. He hopes that Soonyoung doesn’t ask questions about the way you limp into your classes the next few days. You hope he knows better by now than to question it. 

“For a sophomore,” you wheeze out while you roll over. Sunwoo runs his hands up and down your thighs, smiling thoughtfully. “You sure seem to have lots of experience.”

“Never judge a book by its cover, babe.” He squeezes just above your knee, running his tongue across his lips when he sees more cum dripping out of you. You catch the fiery look in his eye and groan while you squeeze your legs shut. He groans when you use one foot to kick him back against the door opposite you. 

“No,” you scold him. He looks like a kicked puppy.

“Whyyyy,” he reaches for your legs again and you push him back even more. 

“I’m tired, Sunwoo.” You say but he just crawls on top of you with a mischievous grin.

“You won’t have to do anything,” he bargains. “Jus’ wanna taste you a little. That’s all!” You glare at him.

“One time.” His eyes light up and he pries your legs open again. “You get one more from me tonight, Kim Sunwoo. You hear me?”

“Mhm!” He dives straight into you, knowing that this was far from the last time he’d get you to cum in his car tonight.

“I still think that you should be thanking me,” Eric shuts the door of Sunwoo’s car with a sly grin. 

“For what?” Sunwoo asks exasperatedly. 

It had been less than 24 hours since Sunwoo had fucked you in his car and officially made you his after a long year and a half of pining. He was tired. His body was tired. He didn’t have the energy to deal with his best friend this early in the morning, or at all really. 

“For getting you guys together! It was my idea, anyway.” Eric clicks his seatbelt into place and runs a hand through his dyed red hair. “Where are your car gummy worms?” 

“Center console,” Sunwoo puts the car in drive and has barely begun to ease his foot off the brake when Eric lets a gasp so violent and loud that he slams his foot back down again. “What, what happened?” He slams the car back into park, his face going white when he sees what his best friend is dangling between two dainty fingers. 

Black lace panties. 

Your black lace panties. 

“Sunwoo…you didn’t…” Eric chokes out with a mix of disgust and heartbreak on his face. Sunwoo rips the panties out of his best friend’s hands and shoves them into the pocket of his jeans. His face feels like it’s on fire, his heart pounding out of his chest. 

“Do not ever speak of this to anybody. Ever.”

“You fucking FREAK!”

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