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i-am-lifeform24 · 17 days

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🌱Pose🌱

Tags: Multiple Creampies, Mind-Break, Submissive Seulgi, Bratty Seulgi

*Snap*

“C’mon babe… please?”

“Not now! I need to finish this, okay?”

*Snap*

“We’ve been taking photos all fucking morning, what did your manager say anyways?”

“Here here, i’ll kneel beside the stool. Make sure you get the bag in the frame alright?”

*Snap*

“I’m not your fucking photographer babe, and you promised we’d, you know…”

“L-later! Let’s take more photos, I promised manager-unnie i’d get a lot for this promotion. I don’t want her to get mad at me okay?”

*SLAM*

“B-babe? Babe?!”

Stomping towards Seulgi, you throw the camera to the studio couch. She lies on the floor, tanned arms still balanced on the wooden stool, creamy legs spread out beneath her in a vulnerable, provocative pose. You’re so pent up, so fucking horny for her. That dress was already bad enough, black fabric perfectly hugging both fuckable thighs and perky breasts. But once she started posing? Once she started refusing you the very thing you’ve been asking for all morning, while focused on sticking her ass out like a whore for the camera? Forget her manager, you’re the angry one now.

You grab Seulgi’s arms, pulling her up, and pushing her face into the wall. “I’m done asking. You’re my girlfriend. You know what that means.” you growl, squeezing her arms as you pin them above her head. Your hard-on rubs between her ass cheeks, acting as another point of delicious pressure to push Seulgi into the cold, hard surface.

“S-stop! Babe! This isn’t… funny!” Seulgi squirms, her toned body trying to squeeze out of your grip. All you feel is softness. Delicious tension laces her skin in her escape attempt. Dainty shoulders. Shaking breasts. Gyrating Hips. Writhing thighs. They all serve to only increase your arousal, to push your leaking rod against Seulgi’s ass, and soak the fabric that separates you from your prize.

*Zip*

“No panties, huh? Good girl.” Keeping one hand to secure Seulgi’s wrists, you use the other to line your cock up with her pussy lips. As your tip touches her labia, you feel a sticky substance coat your head. She’s dripping, she’s into this.

“S-stop, b-babe, we need to S-SHOOT! AGH!” Seulgi moans as you push, hilting your member inside of her with one aggressive stroke. Normally, you’d let her savor it, let her feel every ridge of your big, dominating cock. Let her drip all over you before you move. But today, you’re angry, today, you’re going to break her.

*Slap* *Slap *Slap*

Seulgi’s muffled moans echo throughout the small studio. Her cheek is pushed up against the wall, dress bunched up around her hips as you piston your cock into her.

Her eyes widen with a particularly deep thrust, “S-slow down, please, too… b-BIG! UGH!” Seulgi keeps her legs together, allowing you to use your rod to push into the wet space between her thighs, to slam her into the wall again, and again, and again.

“I. Don’t. Care.” You growl, prompting a moan from the girl as you slide a strap of her dress down her left shoulder. Seulgi keeps on squirming, but it’s futile. Your hand tightens around her wrists, and with every twist of her body against yours, you get more and more aggressive.

The stench of sex quickly fills up the small studio, and the addictive slapping of Seulgi’s ass against your crotch only spurs you on. You swipe brown hair over her shoulder, leaning down to suck on the back of your mate’s neck as you take her. “Mmm. Tense. You’re too tense babe” you mumble, nibbling on her soft skin as she groans in frustration. Seulgi hates being off schedule, hates making a bad impression at work, and your little morning escapade would set her back at least the rest of the day. It shows in the firmness of her skin while you suck, in the incessant, bratty squirming of her body, trying to slip out from under you.

“AGH! Stop… stop… AGH!” She begs, turning her head and looking at you with pleading eyes. If you hadn’t been with her for so long, you might actually stop, actually pull your cock out from between Seulgi’s sultry legs, and apologize to the top idol. But she’s your girlfriend. Your woman. Your slut.

It’s time to remind her.

*THUD*

Sucking up your breath, you slam Seulgi against the wall, letting her wrists free as you buck into her with a frenzied, animalistic pace. “B-babe, stop! You’re gonna… break… me, FUCK!” Your girlfriend looks back, the beautiful arch of her lower back, still covered by soaked fabric, making the perfect grip for one of your hands. As your fingers dig into her exposed skin, massaging the tightness out of her hips, she moves a hand up to cover her mouth, moans leaking out of her upper lips, and slick squeezing out of her lower ones.

*THUD*

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re just a slut, my slut, my woman, understand?” You snarl, feeling Seulgi shiver beneath as you push her cheek against the wall. She’s starting to loosen up, the pressure of her hips trying to push you away slowly fading. Her upper body however, still needs convincing. Her creamy shoulders push against your mouth as you kiss along her nape, sweat from her futile resistance almost comical at this point. She’s like a broodmare, begging to be tamed, trying to throw off her mate one last time before she is mounted, before she is owned.

You smile, nose sucking up the scent of your mate. Time to mark her.

*THUD* *THUD**THUD*

“B-babe, not here, i’ll break, i’ll…” Seulgi begs. She can feel it. The dull throb of your cock inside her walls, the tightening of your grip on her hips. While she begs, she her hips push back against you a little bit more, her legs spread a few more inches. You smile. Deep down, she wants it. Deep down, she’s ready.

Your thrusts get more rampant, Seulgi’s hand quickly dropping from her mouth as she screams. You hunch over her, husky breaths filling the soft skin of her earlobe, “Shut up. I’m going to cum in you, slut. You’ve left daddy waiting for far too long.” For a moment, Seulgi looks back, wide eyes begging for you to stop, to keep her in her dignified, upright, hardworking form. Your girlfriend, bent over, begging you to stop?

It’s enough to make a man explode.

“FUCK! TAKE IT!”

“No… NO!! F-fuck! D-daddy!”

Seulgi’s eyes shoot open as you push her against the wall, soft breasts between your rough fingers as you thrust up into her, pinning the woman into the hard surface as she is filled. Hot, virile seed fills her pussy, and you feel her cum, hard. Her walls grasp around you, the wet appendage sucking up her partner’s cum, accepting it lovingly like a proper girlfriend would.

“It.. it’s so much… UGH!” Seulgi throws her head back, her mouth, previously set into an “o”, slowly melting into a satisfied smile.

You grin, turning her head to kiss her, your hips still spearing into the prone woman. “Attagirl… see? That wasn’t so bad, right?”

“Mmm… mhm… d-daddy?” She looks back at you, a glazed expression painting her face. Gone is the camera-hungry Seulgi, always worried about the quality of her work. Gone is the veteran idol, always ready to lug you around to her next schedule. Gone is the reluctant girlfriend, always forgetting who’s occkslut she is, who she’s supposed to spread her legs for.

Here is your slut. Your woman. Your mate, staring into your eyes, lips opening in torrid request.

“M-more… please”

“Mmph!”

Seulgi crashes unto the floor, her sweaty back leaving marks on the gray cement. You kiss her. Hard. “Fuck yes baby, mine, you’re MINE!” You mumble into the kiss, feeling her red lips curve up into a smile as she sticks her mouth into your own. This is what you’ve been waiting for, for Seulgi to break, for your hot, slushing cum inside her pussy to remind the girl who she belongs to, who she’s meant to serve.

“Daddy… Mmm” Seulgi mewls, feeling your quick hands rip her dress off. The black fabric crumbles quickly under your fingers, silky satin replaced with toned, tanned skin as your woman is left naked before you. Sitting up with a hand on your cock, you smile at the sight. Perky, medium sized breasts. Tight hips. A pink pussy. And long, creamy thighs. Seulgi’s hair fans around her, and the idol’s eyes meet yours as she bites her lip in anticipation.

She’s beautiful.

She’s yours.

“Fuck me… F-fuck me… Daddy… DADDY! UGH!” Seulgi’s scream fills the room as you bottom out inside of her, the girl’s long legs wrapping around your hips as she is entered. Your thrusts are long, slow, and ravenous. In the morning light, Seulgi’s squirming almost looks like a lioness stretching, sweat shining on her midriff as she is taken by her mate.

“AH- AH- AGH! Y-yes! I’m yours! I’m sorry… daddy! Please…” Her head whips around as she apologizes, hips raising up to meet your thrusts in remorseful lust. You break into a grin, and Seulgi’s walls convulse around your cock as you spear into her core, owning her, claiming her, mating her. There’s something utterly gratifying about seeing your girlfriend like this, seeing her drop the hardened exterior of a busy, focused idol, and surrender herself fully to the pleasure of sex.

You hunch down, quickly sealing your lips on a pert nipple. “That’s right, lift your ass up babe, just like that, mmm, good girl.” You egg Seulgi on, your slut craning her neck against the cold concrete as her ass pushes against your crotch. It’s an offering. The taste of sweat as you suck on her nipples. The feeling of her walls, now slick in arousal, dripping around your rod. The smell of dirty, filthy squirt permeating your nose. An offering you’re glad to reward.

“F-FUCK! YES!” A roar exits your mouth as your balls slap against Seulgi’s buttcheeks. Plastering her lithe body to the ground, you can feel her writhe against you as you cum. The girl’s head is behind yours now, and you watch as her eyes roll up into her head, tongue lolling out to lick at your ear as you seed her. Your lioness. Mated. Grateful. Happy.

As the last spurts of your cum are deposited into her walls, you whisper into her ear, “Good girl… good girl Seulgi” She’s so warm, so sweaty, so filthy. Strands of hair stick to her forehead as she pants, and you can feel toned abs shift beneath you, the girl trying to keep your softening member inside of her.

“Daddy… no, don’t leave…” Seulgi tries to kiss up your chest. You slowly draw your cock out of the mewling girl, the head sensitive as pussy lips, leaking your cum, still try to hold onto it. You look at the mess you’ve left. A puddle of squirt on the floor. A sweat stained Seulgi, legs open as you kneel in front of her. A fitting scene for a morning photoshoot.

Oh yeah. The photoshoot! You still need to process the photos, fix the edits, give that damn manager a reason to keep you at Seulgi’s side. Your cock hangs limp in front of Seulgi’s face as you stand up, mood already soured thinking about obligations that don’t have to do with fucking your now submissive girlfriend.

“Seul, where did your manager ask us to go for the next photoshoot again? I forgot the place, but it shouldn’t be too-”

*Slurp* *Suck*

Seulgi lies on her knees, legs spread as she runs a soft, wet tongue over your cum stained shaft. A hand lies between her thighs, furiously massaging her slit as she smiles, kissing all over your length. She’s still ready for more? After how much you’ve came in her?

“Daddy… screw the schedule, I don’t want to pose for anyone else.” Seulgi gives your cock a kiss, and you shiver at the loss of her soft, warm lips. Still shocked, you can only watch as she lies down, spreading the mix of cum and squirt on the floor, moistened tits pushed flat against the concrete. You lick your lips. Seulgi’s delicious body. Taste it. Feel it. Fuck it.

She looks back at you with a sultry, submissive gaze. “Ruin me, your girl wants her man’s cock, daddy.”

Moans fill the room as you kneel behind Seulgi, spreading open her legs to mount her in an aggressive pronebone. “Say it. Whose cock do you love, WHO?” You huskily growl into your girlfriend’s ear, her cum filled walls flexing around you as she is plastered onto the floor. You’ve been waiting for this, waiting for her to make the first move, to initiate your little mating ritual. Even after all the earlier debauchery, your cock throbs harder inside Seulgi’s pussy, your earlier releases scraped out of her walls with every dominating thrust.

“Y-yours daddy! AGH! Yours! Only… UGH! YOURS!” Seulgi screams as you pull her up, wrapping a hand around soft brown hair to leash your little pet. Compared to earlier, where all you felt was the squirming of her wet body under your own, she’s all the more receptive, all the more compliant for her fucking. Your lips seal around her neck, and you can feel earlier marks you’ve left on your girlfriend in every sweaty ridge you lick.

You let Seulgi lay on her forearms, rough hands gripping red hips as you give her a final warning, a final prelude to your biggest release yet. “That’s fucking right, now spread those legs, bitch”

“Y-yes, daddy, I wi-”

*SLAP* *SLAP* *SLAP*

Your balls slap against Seulgi’s bubby ass as your cock reams her open. She’s not a lioness anymore, not even a girlfriend, just your obedient, screaming, fucktoy. Sweat drips down the beautiful arch of her toned back as you fuck her, and she leans up to try and kiss your neck while you hunch over your mate.

“Yes… Yes! YES! I’m-FUCK! Yours!” Seulgi kisses your ear, the extra stimulation only serving to urge you on towards your inevitable explosion. Who would’ve thought. Red Velvet’s Seulgi. The most proud, courteous, dignified member of the group. Naked in a puddle of cum and slick, thighs planted on the floor as she begs for you to mate her one last, glorious time.

“I’m gonna cum, Seulgi” You warn. Self control has gotten hazy over the last few seconds, sweat stinging your eyes as you exert yourself to the maximum. Seulgi’s body is addicting. Every thrust sending you closer and closer, every twitch of her tight, obedient pussy a silent begging for her man’s seed.

Seulgi looks back, hair swinging out of your grasp, and half lidded eyes meet yours in a pleading whisper, “Cum in me… I need it… I need daddy’s seed…”

“FUCK! YES!”

A torrent of cum explodes out of your rod, veins throbbing in ecstasy, balls shaking in joy as you deliver your last payload. Seulgi’s eyes shoot open, and she cranes her neck in a throaty moan of submission. You can feel her thighs ripple, silky legs kicking, her body with nowhere to release the energy of her intense orgasm. In this position, your girlfriend is nothing but a mount for you to cum into, a fuckable, sexy pet, stuck to the floor, forced to obediently receive your seed.

Eventually, you pull out. “Yes, cum… cum��” Seulgi chants, her wet cheek against the floor, legs still spread, calves still folded upwards while your white seed drips out of pink pussy lips. She’s a work of art, ruined, frozen in the position of her ultimate domination. You like her more this way, love her, more this way, and you grin in satisfaction.

“You know what babe? That might be my favorite pose yet.”

#kpop smut #male reader smut #red velvet seulgi smut #red velvet smut #seulgi smut

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ecl1pse · 2 years

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siyoon reminds me so much of seulgi in that theyre both so fierce & amazing performers on stage but so cute off-stage. also just their faces lol

#like especially ehen siyoon has black hair #tell me they wouldnt pass for sisters or at least cousins on a tv show #seulgi #siyoon #red velvet #billie

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lustspren · 8 months

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P.S.T EP. 7 | Hold on Tight ft Aespa.

length: 6.6k words ✦

Aespa & Male Reader

genres: airplane sex, blowjob, oral sex, kinda fivesome, hard sex, footjob, squirt, ass eating

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“H-hello…” you stammered. You were sure that when you first met them you hadn't acted like an idiot, but this time it was a different situation. They were waiting for you, hunting like a pride of perfectly coordinated lionesses. You weren't going to let your nerves get the better of you that time, you decided that you would be confident at all times. As much as they allow you, of course.

They all looked exaggeratedly beautiful for just a simple flight. Karina's bangs looked exaggeratedly pretty, she was wearing a kind of short black dress, with separate sleeves that went from her shoulders to her hand, covering it like a glove, and black boots. Ningning wore her brown hair down and in slight waves; a gray knit crop top, a black sports skirt, and chunky platform Mary Jane shoes. Giselle also had her dark hair down, dressed in a long, loose black skirt, a long-sleeved black blouse, black shoes, and a black choker. Winter looked the most stunning by far, with a light brown bob haircut, a black knit crop top, baggy jeans that revealed her milky, flat belly, and high-soled converse.

When they finished their joint laughter, Winter stood up, took a few steps down the hallway and leaned her shoulder against a wall to look at you, as if she were waiting.

"You can leave your things here, we'll go somewhere else," Karina, despite appearing intimidating many times, was by far the friendliest and kindest of all of them. She was the leader, you wouldn't expect anything less.

"Somewhere else?" You took off your backpack and left it on your seat, you hesitated whether to leave your phone there or not, but you thought about it for a second and considered that maybe you wouldn't need it for the trip. You wouldn't be too far from reality. You left your phone in one of the front pockets of your backpack.

While you were doing that, the rest of the girls had already stood up and were heading towards the hallway. Karina waited for you while the girls were behind.

"Follow me," Karina nodded at you toward the hallway, and you, moving away from all your belongings, followed her, "you know, we're really excited to have our own 'personal assistant'," she made quotes with her fingers.

"Oh my god yes," Giselle confirmed a few steps ahead of you, "our companions do nothing but talk about the wonders that happen in that fucking spa."

"I can confirm that," Winter said as she walked with her hands in the pockets of her jeans, looking to the front, "I've done nothing but die of envy over the past few weeks."

While they were talking you couldn't help but focus your attention on Ningning, who so far hadn't said a single word and was just walking with a relaxed look on her face. She didn't seem as impatient and forward as the other three, in fact, she seemed unexpectedly shy, you would say reserved, as if she didn't want to appear vulgar towards you.

"Fuck, Seulgi-unnie couldn't stop talking about how much she loved how you worshiped her feet," Karina said, as you stopped at the door that led to another booth, "you must be good huh?" she asked you, raising an eyebrow with an amused expression on her face.

“I do my best,” you shrugged.

"Let me believe you do a lot more than that," Karina laughed, and just then Winter opened the cabin door for you to walk inside.

The cabin you had entered could easily be part of a Star Wars spaceship thanks to its design and futuristic atmosphere. White leather furniture and black trim, each and every one of them with white LED lights underneath; the floor and walls were a perfect combination of varnished walnut wood and satin white paint, with abstract divisions that matched the fluctuating ceiling and the number of curved shapes that the cabin had.

To the left were two chairs facing each other, which, like the rest of the furniture, lacked legs attached to the floor, instead, they were fixed to the wall. Embedded in the curved wall was a long screen, which indicated the cabin temperature and certain data that you didn't stop to detail. To the right was a small U-shaped sectional couch, with a thin table in the middle sticking out from the wall. On that same wall were the tinted windows of the plane.

Further on to the left was a chair exactly like the previous one between two semi-walls, and in the last visible section of the cabin, which looked like the rest area, a bed with curved edges embedded in the wall to the left, and a long sofa on the right that looked unconventional but at the same time extremely comfortable. On that same couch, sitting while she looked at her phone, was Noze.

The exaggeratedly beautiful woman, dressed in a wide, loose black T-shirt, sweatpants of the same color, and a pearl pink cap, had her legs drawn up on the sofa in an Indian position, a cushion in her lap and her fanny pack at her side. She seemed focused on her affairs, so you noticed how you disturbed her peace as you approached her.

She took off both AirPods, turning her head towards you as she examined you up and down; she let out a funny and sexy little smile that left you cold. How was it possible that she was just a manager and did not dedicate herself to being a model or actress? She had everything to be one, from her face, her body, and even her charisma.

"Welcome aboard, pretty boy," she greeted you, as each of them took a seat except you. Winter and Ningning on the bed in front of Noze, Giselle on the chair behind you and Karina next to Noze, "everything okay?"

"Well, you could say so," you shrugged, looking at the cabin around you, and then at the navy blue curtain a few meters away from you that marked a division, you were sure there was more space behind there, "I certainly never expected to get on a Mercedes-Benz private jet."

"Life takes many turns, you of all people should know that," she laughed, "for now just focus on holding on tight for what awaits you."

"Are you trying to terrify me with a reference to one of their songs?" at that moment Ningning began to sing the beginning of Hold on Tight very quietly, only audible thanks to the small silence that was generated between your question and Noze's answer. You all turned to look at her, she opened her eyes wide, and a small wave of laughter flooded the cabin for a few seconds.

“Hey, don't just stand there, come here,” Ningning, who was still blushing thanks to the embarrassing moment she went through just now, moved to the side to give you enough space next to her.

"Oh, thank you," you and her looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds as you smiled at her, sitting in the space between her and the inside wall of the bed. She smiled back at you, but then turned around surreptitiously.

At that moment, two men dressed in elegant and immaculate suits entered through the curtain, each of them had a tray in their hand, with glasses full of what appeared to be Champagne, six of them, one for each of you. On each tray there was also a box of Melatonin, a medicine to help you fall asleep.

"Thank you," Karina said to the butlers, as they let you take your glasses, you all gave them your thanks too. Unlike the others, you hesitated whether to take a pill or not.

"I recommend you take it," said Noze, taking a sip of champagne, "it will be quite a long trip, and that will help you with the jet lag," at that moment they all took their pills with the help of the champagne.

"Are we going to sleep right now?" you asked, leaning forward slightly so you could see Winter next to Ningning, you also looked at the others.

"Yup, so make yourself comfortable," Karina said cross-legged, making circles with her glass to stir the champagne.

"Uh..." you looked around, knowing there wasn't enough room for all of you to sleep and lie down separately, "where?"

"I don't know, there are a lot of seats, some of them should work for you," said Karina, after finishing all the champagne in one go. Giselle imitated her, as did Noze. Winter took her time, and Ningning only left the cup half empty.

"The back couch is mine, you have to sleep in a chair, darling," Giselle said, standing up, blowing you a kiss and going to the couch near the entrance.

"Do you want to sleep with us, pretty boy?" Noze asked as she lay down with Karina behind her on the couch, "we could make a sandwich with you in the middle," the unintelligent you would have accepted without question, but your brain reminded you that that could easily be a joke and that it wasn't serious. So you decided not to push your luck.

"Uhm, I think I'll be better off in a chair, thanks," you said more nervously than when you climbed aboard, Karina and Noze laughed, and then snuggled together.

"Hey, would you give us some space?" Winter asked you in a low and adorable tone of voice, seeing that you were still taking up space on the bed.

"Oh right," you stood up immediately, and exchanged glances with Ningning again.

"I don't like that you have to sleep in a chair, I'm sorry," Ningning said, and you noticed the honest regret in her tone of voice.

"You have nothing to apologize for," you smiled, shaking your head, "it's not my first time sleeping in a chair, in fact, compared to these chairs the old ones are pieces of scrap metal," Ningning laughed, and her laugh rubbed off on you. You automatically felt your cheeks warm and your stomach ticklish. Oh no, it was happening again.

"I'll see you in a bit then," she said.

"See you in a bit, yeah," you nodded, and without taking your eyes off her, you slowly retreated to your chair, which was not too far away but when you sat down you could only see Giselle, who had settled into the sectional sofa just a few feet from you.

"She likes you," Giselle said with a mischievous smile, covered up to her neck in a blanket. You looked at her with a frown and an expression as if she had said something very stupid. She started talking to you with her very nice and charming English.

"Of course not, you're trippin," you returned, also in your English, "and lower your voice, she's probably listening to you."

"You're not very smart at reading eyes, are you?" she asked, laughing at you like you were a fool. You probably were.

"Not really, but why would she like me?" Unlike her, you did lower your tone of voice, "she barely knows me."

"I don't know, you're cute," she replied, shifting so she was on her stomach facing you.

"Is that enough for you to like a boy?" You raised an eyebrow.

"No, first I have to know if they have a big cock," Giselle rested her head on her forearms, letting you see how her ass formed a big bulge under the blanket, "and you have it."

You felt like you were going to get tongue-tied coming up with an answer, so you stayed quiet for a few seconds, breathing deeply as you stared at her, Giselle just laughed. It was going to be a pretty long tour.

"You know there's a completely free spot on the couch that you're not using, right?" you asked her, masterfully changing the subject.

"Yup, I know perfectly well," she nodded.

"Aren't you going to offer it to me?" You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to grab a blanket that was folded over the back of the couch.

"I could, yeah," she raised her head to see you, "but what if I woke up out of nowhere wanting to suck a cock? There wouldn't be a bell to save you, what's happening on that side of the couch can't be seen over there," she pointed her finger to the space behind you, where the other girls were.

"It's a risk I wouldn't mind taking," you replied, playing her game as you hugged your still folded blanket. Giselle bit her lip and smiled.

"Alright then," she motioned her chin toward the free space, "rest well, I'll see you in a few hours..." she shifted position on the couch again, this time with her head toward the corner and her ass purposely not covered by the blanket for you to see.

"Aha, rest well too," you said, and got up from the chair to go settle into the free space of the sofa. On the table in the center of the couch, there was an unopened bottle of water that you used to take the pill. Minutes later, after waiting for it to take effect, you lay down on your side of the couch and soon fell asleep.

—————————————————————————

You woke up feeling a little strange, colder than normal. You remembered covering yourself with the blanket when you fell asleep, but why couldn't you feel the soft cotton fabric against your skin at that moment? You also noticed a slight pain in your spine, and you had to stretch your neck from side to side to relax it. You hadn't opened your eyes yet, first you wanted to rub them, like you always did when you woke up, but when you wanted to raise your wrists to bring your hands closer to your face, they didn't move.

"Hfmm?" you stammered, opening your eyes slowly as you felt something cold in your crotch. The light blinded you for a few seconds, but when your vision cleared, you almost had a heart attack.

In front of you, standing at different points, were the Aespa girls completely naked as they watched you (Noze wasn’t there). Karina with her arms crossed, Giselle with her hands on her waist, Ningning with her hands on her back, and Winter… Winter was measuring your erect cock with a transparent silicone dildo.

"Hm, it's even bigger than my favorite toy," Winter said, as you slowly regained your senses. You tried to stand up, but it was useless since you were tied hand and foot to that chair, which you were originally going to fall asleep in a few hours ago.

"What the fuck?!" you exclaimed, clenching your fists with a worried expression, "what the hell have you done to me?"

"Wow wow, relax silly," Karina intervened, taking a step forward, and your gaze inevitably went to her heavy tits and the rest of her milky body, "we would never have done anything to you while you were asleep, and Ning had Winter under control."

"How the hell did you move me here and why?" You weren't as upset as you were at the beginning, but you still deserved a good explanation.

"Your sleeping pill was a little stronger, otherwise we wouldn't have been able to move you there," she explained, "Look, I know this isn't to your liking, but we've heard great things about you, and we wanted to somehow... test your reputation before anything."

"Weren't all the so-called tests that Noze put me through enough?" you asked, indignant at the aforementioned manager who at that moment was not among the faces in front of you. You would have loved that, tho.

"Those were tests Noze set up for you, we were never involved in quality control," she exonerated herself, "so this is our quality control."

“Fuck…” you cursed under your breath, “so be it,” you said out loud, followed by a sigh of pure resignation.

"Alright..." Karina took a couple more steps forward, gently pushing Winter away to sit on your thigh, you felt her bare buttocks against your skin, and your cock throbbed, "this is what we're going to do, sweetie," she put a hand to your hair and started caressing it, "we will all have our turn, and at least three of us have to cum so that your test can be considered passed."

"And what happens if I don't get it?"

"Then our tour will be drastically different for you compared to how it's planned so far," she said with an innocent smile, giving you a kiss on the forehead, "no pressure."

"Anyway, I can't move, everything is your responsibility and in that case, the fault wouldn't be entirely mine," you defended yourself.

"That's true, but I don't care," she patted your chest and stood up, "good luck," she winked at you, and gave way to Winter, who had a hungry look on her face as she climbed right into your lap.

Her small tits were just a few centimeters in front of you, you wanted to put your hands on her small, tight and delicious body, but all the effort was useless. Without saying a single word, she let out a big spit on her hand and brought it to your cock, to lubricate it a little before raising her hips and impaling herself completely on your throbbing erection.

"Oh fuck! And it feels even better than my damn toy!" Winter whimpered after letting out a long moan with you. Her tight pussy smothered your cock from all directions, and you began breathing heavily with her ass resting against your pelvis. She hadn't started to move and she already felt fucking wonderful, in addition to that, you could notice a slight bulge protruding from her lower abdomen, it was the tip of your cock.

"That fucking whore has been wanting to do that ever since we tied you to the chair," Giselle said, sitting on a chair with her legs crossed, one meaty thigh on top of the other.

"And it'll be worth all the waiting," Winter moaned, gripping her hands on either side of your neck firmly as she began to slowly move up and down, feeling how easily your cock slid in and out of her before she dedicated herself to frantically bouncing on you.

Winter moved over you with the ease and lightness of a feather, filling the entire cabin with the dry sounds of her tight ass slapping against your pelvis and thighs. She dug her nails very superficially into your neck, before completely embracing it with her arms and immersing herself in your lips with a kiss lacking affection and care, instead, she attacked you furiously with her tongue between incessant moans.

That was being much more difficult than you expected, it was torture not being able to hug her small frame, or her thin waist while she jumped full of vigor and desire on you. She separated from your lips, and looked into your eyes with her face flushed and distorted by pleasure, you looked down, noticing once again how the tip of your cock constantly made a bulge in her abdomen.

"Fuck, I'm getting really horny..." Karina said close to you, but you couldn't see her since your gaze was fixed on the cutie in front of you.

"Me too, you can tell that cock is filling her up so well..." Giselle confirmed.

Winter tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling it hard and then planting her feet on either side of your hips and starting to bounce even harder against your cock.

"He's filling me up too fucking good!" Winter squealed, letting her head fall back as she bit her lip and closed her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the immense pleasure your cock was giving her before she climaxed, "Oh my god!" she screamed, clinging to your neck again and pressing your heads together.

She violently impaled herself downwards, and when she lifted her hips to pull you out of her pussy she squirted all over you, wetting your cock, your thighs, and even the floor. Her body began to shake between violent spasms, screaming and moaning with her nails digging into your shoulders.

"Fuck, this girl made a mess," Karina sighed, "whatever, we'll clean up later."

When her orgasm had passed Winter lowered herself to her knees over you again, looking into your eyes with an evil smile and heavy breathing.

"Consider that a gift," she winked at you, "it was obvious I was going to cum."

"Thanks, I guess," you said between gasps, still recovering from the wonderful ride she just gave you. She stood up, and you noticed how she had gone to lie down so she could rest.

Your vision was clear now, and your eyes went to each of the girls to see who was next. Karina, with her arms crossed and a small smile of satisfaction, did not stand up, Ningning, who had her cheeks flushed and licked her lips while looking at your cock, did not stand up either, the one who stood up was Giselle.

She was without a doubt, the complete package and the definition of luscious and thick body. Her meaty thighs were a work of art on their own, not to mention her surprisingly big juicy tits and her massive round ass. She walked towards you slowly, noticing that your eyes never left her thighs.

"You seem to love my thighs, don't you?" She asked, standing between your legs, even knowing the answer, "and what do you think of my ass?" When she said that she turned around so that you could have her ass facing you, she leaned forward very slowly, and grabbed her buttocks to spread them apart and let you see her plump pussy and butthole, "I bet you would love to have this ass bouncing on your cock."

You said nothing, your mouth watering as you stared at the exquisite work of art a short distance from your face. At that moment, by the work and grace of God or some guardian angel of yours, a timely turbulence shook the plane and the cabin, everything shook, and thanks to that Giselle staggered and, unintentionally, fell on your face, which was buried between her soft buttocks.

Instinctively the first thing you did was devour her like a hungry animal, using your tongue to lick between her delicious, wet folds. You sucked, kissed and moved your tongue in different possible ways, and Giselle, between cute moans, didn't even try to separate her ass from your face, on the contrary, she leaned even further back to lean on you.

In less than a minute Giselle was already going completely crazy between moans and whimpers while you ate her pussy with utmost greed. Her folds were deliciously soft, as were the fluids that seeped through them, it was without a doubt the tastiest pussy you had ever eaten in your entire life, closely followed by Lia's.

"Don't think it will be so easy to make me cum, boy," Giselle said with one hand on your head, fingers clinging to your hair, "higher," you obeyed and moved your tongue up through her slit, reaching her entrance to insert there your tongue, Giselle let out a louder moan as you explored her pussy inside with your tongue, but it wasn't enough, "I said... higher," she whimpered, and you smiled, realizing what she meant.

You raised your tongue a little higher, and when you reached her beautiful butthole, the first thing you did was spit all the saliva accumulated in your mouth onto it, and then make circles with your tongue around it. Giselle tensed her body, and she let out a louder moan as she felt the contact on her butthole. Great, another butt play lover.

After a few seconds of just playing with her you finally began to force your tongue into her tight butthole, causing loud squeals to come from her. You moved your tongue in circles inside her, hitting places that made her jump and jerk with pleasure. She was incredibly delicious, and you let her know that by eating her ass like a hungry dog.

Her buttocks felt too good, pressed on either side of your face, and feeling them tense was the last straw for you. You clenched your fists and arms tightly, making a tremendous effort to try to free yourself from your bonds; you tensed your entire body, pressing your forearms upward. A vein stood out from your temple, and you stopped eating Giselle's ass only to grit your teeth, let out a grunt, and finally free yourself from one of the restraints.

Your right hand was completely free, and it immediately went to one of her buttocks to squeeze and grope it as much as you could, returning again to her ass and slowly taking Giselle towards her peak. The seconds passed, and between loud moans she climaxed in an intense attack of spasms that made her collapse onto your lap, pressing your cock between her round buttocks while her body shook constantly.

"You better use that strength to stop me from walking," Winter said from somewhere behind you, in contrast to her adorable little tone of voice. You could only laugh in disbelief, with Giselle's back resting against your chest. Your chin rested on her shoulder, from where you could see her pair of tits rise up and down between heavy breaths.

After a few long seconds, Giselle finally gathered enough strength not to get up, but to lean forward as far as she could, put her hands on the floor and slowly lower herself towards it, making sure that your cock passed between the folds of her pussy before getting on her knees and hands. She looked at you over her shoulder, winked at you, and began to sensually crawl away from you, knowing that your gaze was on her dump truck.

You were completely mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she walked away from you, but soon your attention was transferred to Karina, who had stood up and was now walking confidently towards you, swaying her hips from side to side. You admired every corner of her hourglass shaped body, from her voluptuous tits to her creamy thighs, not ignoring her pretty, shaved pussy. At this point you were too horny, and your cock hurt from how hard it was.

"Maybe there was more than just melatonin in that pill you took earlier," she apologized when she was standing in front of you, "I'm sorry, but I couldn't risk that cock dying early."

"I don't even care at this point, you tied me to a chair against my will," you shrugged, looking her up and down, "Well? Come get me, precious," she stared at you in silence for a second.

"You're having fun, aren't you?" she asked, and before you could answer, she raised one leg and put one foot inside your already opened mouth, you sucked on her toes as much as you could, and then she rested her sole on your chin. Understood, you were never going to be in charge with her.

You didn't try to answer her question, instead you started kissing every part of her foot as much as you could, going up from her sole to her toes, which you sucked and licked with great care and delicacy. You raised one hand to bring it to her foot and give it a kind of massage while you used your tired tongue to lick between her toes, leaving them completely wet and sloppy.

Karina noticed the tiredness in your tongue as it danced between her fingers, and in an act of mercy, she lowered her foot from your face and placed it now on your crotch, her fingers gently placed on your balls, you held your breath, with fear that she would apply pressure.

"You're incredibly lucky that you had enough balls to break free from one of your restraints," she said with her arms crossed, staring at you, "otherwise you wouldn't have had a chance with me," after saying that, she picked up your wrist and guided your free hand to her wet pussy, which immediately felt warm against your fingers, "now then, I repeat... are you having fun, darling?" she applied light pressure to your balls.

"I'm enjoying every damn second, Yu Jimin," you replied, as you began to rub her pretty pussy with your fingers, concentrating on her clit first. You made small slow circles, and then moved your fingers along her slit to moisten them with her fluids.

"Was Minjeongie's pussy tight enough for you, honey?" You turned your head, seeing Winter on the bed slowly rubbing her pussy as she watched the two of you.

"I fucking loved it," you responded between gasps, taking one of your fingers inside Karina's pussy to begin pumping very slowly in and out, "I loved how my thick cock slid so easily in and out of that tight little pussy," Winter started moaning and touching herself faster, "I also loved how it made her pretty belly bulge, and how that pussy squirted all over me at the end."

With that answer, Winter inserted two fingers inside her pussy and began pumping them frantically between adorable moans, and Karina began to play with your cock with her foot, running her soft fingers up and down over it. In response, you inserted another finger inside her pussy, pumping slightly faster.

"And tell me, did Aeri taste good to you? Was she delicious?" Karina asked, playing with the tip of your cock between her toes.

"She had the most fucking delicious holes I've ever tasted," you gasped with a small smirk, then biting your lip. Saying this, Karina removed her foot from your cock and planted it on the ground, only to raise her another foot from it and stick it directly into your mouth.

"You're only saying that because you haven't tried mine," she said, removing your hand from her pussy as well, "but you will."

During her little interrogation you had been applying force with your other wrist, the ties were already loose, so you only had to give a small pull upwards to free your other hand, which you brought to her ankle to hold it and keep her foot still, while you repeated the same work as with the previous one, distributing kisses, licks and sucks to her toes.

Karina allowed you to continue working on her foot for a few long seconds, until she placed it on your cock again to slowly rub it from the balls to the tip. With your two hands now free, you brought the left one to one of her beautiful tits and squeezed it, feeling how soft and spongy it felt, while you brought the other one back to her pussy, quickly rubbing her clit as you pinched her nipple.

“Fuck… Seulgi was right about you,” she moaned, slowly falling for you, “do you like my feet, baby?”

"I love them," you responded between gasps as her foot continued to work on your cock.

"And you'd like to fuck my brains out, wouldn't you?" She asked, moaning slightly louder, as you continued to rub her clit and then stuck your fingers back inside her pussy, pumping them hard. Your other hand was still on her tit, squeezing and massaging it. Her foot was making your cock twitch, and you felt how little by little she pushed you closer to the edge.

"Believe me, I would do anything to pin you against the wall and hammer that pussy," you said between moans.

"Now tell me..." she paused slightly, closing her eyes as she controlled her moans, "Do you like my feet better than Yuna's? Does Aeri taste better than Chaeryongie? Is Winter tighter fucking than Yeji?" In the midst of that flurry of unexpected questions your anger began to heat up inside you, she saw it in your eyes and smiled, and you became rougher with your touches on her, "I'm sure Yuna loved how you fucked her in that mall," she laughed, "Oh, and how does Lia's ass feel? I don't think it's as tight as Aeri's."

"Unnie, you're going too far..." Ningning finally spoke close to you, she was sitting on the back of the sectional sofa, with her hands crossed on her thighs as she waited patiently for her turn.

"Shut up!" Karina said to Ning, looking at her, and then back at you, "do you want to know how I know all those damn things?" She said angrily, removing her foot from your cock, and you had no choice but to please her.

"I like your feet better than Yuna's," you started, now pumping three of your fingers in and out of her pussy as fast as you could, jiggling her thighs, and also squeezing one of her tits, "Aeri tastes a lot better than any of Chaery's holes... and Minjeong is much tighter than Yeji."

When you finally gave her the answer she was waiting for she reached her orgasm between loud moans and whimpers, her spasms shook her completely, and she fell to her knees while her entire body trembled. You heard another wave of moans behind you, these ones higher pitched and smaller, Winter had come for the second time in 20 minutes.

Karina was still on her knees, with both hands on your thighs as she caught her breath. When she did, she struggled to her feet and looked into your eyes with a devilish smile.

"Good boy," with that, she walked away from you, her smile still stretched from ear to ear. She had left triumphant.

“Fucking b...” you muttered, and caught yourself when you saw Ningning separate herself from the couch to slowly walk towards you, her hands on her back and a slightly worried expression on her face.

"You already passed the test, don't worry," she said with a calm and soothing voice, "you don't have to test your skills on me."

"Huh?" She fell on her knees between your legs, and as she looked at you with her beautiful big eyes she took your cock with one hand and started pumping it slowly, "Oh..." you stared at her, feeling your stomach become ticklish again, you felt affection for her, and maybe something more.

"You're a cute boy… you deserve it," she said as she continued to move her hand up and down your throbbing cock. You felt your cheeks warm again.

"T-Thank you..." you thanked and then gasped, when you did, she brought the tip of your cock to her mouth. You moaned louder, and Ningning began to suck on your tip slowly and sensually, being careful but still perfectly working her tongue and head motions.

She brought her mouth further to the middle of your shaft, slurping softly on your cock with one hand at the base and the other caressing one of your thighs. You two exchanged glances, and once you did, you couldn't stop looking into each other's eyes for a single second, not even when she took your entire cock inside her mouth, sucking something faster without the need to be disastrous.

You raised a hand to gently caress her face, your finger on her cheekbone and the rest of your hand on her chin. Her eyes changed at that moment, and you could notice how they somehow transmitted affection and gratitude towards you, they were extremely beautiful, and you were hypnotized.

Ningning took you out of her mouth for a few seconds, licking, kissing and sucking on your balls as her hand pumped quickly on your cock, and after giving your balls enough attention, she returned your cock into her mouth to take you straight down her throat. She didn't show any gag reflex, she just scrunched her face up a little as she looked into your eyes and rested her nose against your pelvis. You moaned loudly, and she pulled you out of her mouth with a long gasp of air.

She didn't give herself any time to rest, a few seconds later she dove back into your cock, giving it more sensual sucks and slurping all the saliva that was dripping from it. Your breathing was agitated and you felt how you were slowly reaching the top. Karina noticed your expression, and quickly took a step forward.

"Stop right there," Karina said to Ningning, who had pulled you out of her mouth, walking over to you and sitting next to the confused girl. She leaned back, bringing her feet up and closer to Ningning's face, "prepare them."

Ningning looked at you for a few seconds, once again as if to say that she was sorry, and then grabbed Karina by the ankles to lick and kiss her feet as disastrously as she could, leaving them all slippery and full of saliva.

Once her feet were ready, Karina turned her body towards you and raised her feet onto your lap, trapping your cock between them and starting to give you a footjob which completely suppressed the rage you felt at that moment thanks to her. Her feet moved deliciously up and down, your cock sliding easily between them and throbbing as your orgasm was just around the corner.

Karina's toes also swirled over your tip every time they went up, and one massaged your balls every time they went down. That resulted in an inevitable downhill slope from which you had no salvation.

"Cum baby," Karina moaned, moving her feet faster around your cock, "Cum on these pretty feet that you like better than Yuna's."

That last sentence made your blood boil, but at that point you couldn't do a damn to show it since you started shooting multiple thick jets of cum everywhere. You held on tightly to the chair and squirmed on it, while Karina drained you completely with her pretty feet, which were being completely covered by a layer of white liquid. You squeezed your eyes shut, still spasming slightly as your throbbing cock spilled the last drops of cum onto Karina's feet, which dripped your cum into your pelvis.

Karina stopped, and removed her feet from your cock to turn around and present them to Ningning once more.

“Go ahead honey, clean up,” she ordered in a cute, kind voice that sounded really fake to you.

Ningning sighed, and took Karina by the ankles again to begin passing her tongue through every corner of her feet, collecting your cum and swallowing every little drop without even complaining, on the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it, knowing that the true architect of that great load had been her. Once Karina's feet were completely clean and shiny, Ningning took the liberty of ignoring her and began running her tongue over your pelvis, collecting the small pools of cum that accumulated there before taking you into her mouth. again, just to suck your cock clean for a few seconds and then pull it out.

At that moment, a small beep was heard through the plane's speakers.

"Attention, passengers, we are approaching the final descent," the pilot's voice said over the speakers, "so please, we recommend that you fasten your seat belts properly," another beep sounded, and the pilot fell silent.

"Well, you certainly won't need to fasten the seat belt properly," Giselle joked, followed by a loud laugh, you looked down, and noticed that your ankles were still stuck to the chair.

"Fuck you, Aeri," you told her in English.

"You'll have time to fuck me later, don't rush it silly," she replied back in English.

—————————————————————————

Spren Notes:

FINALLY P.S.T IS BACK AND ON FIRE FAM.

#aespa smut #smut #giselle smut #karina smut #winter smut #ningning smut #kpop smut #fanfic smut #kpop fanfic #x male reader smut #male reader smut #male reader insert

2K notes · View notes

beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months

Text

Girl Code (18+)

pairing: student!jihoon x student!reader

genre: college au, angst, smut (MDNI), lotta crack, friends to...?

description: when you and your friends find out jihoon's been writing down everything you've off-handedly said about "girl code", you simply have to know why.

warnings: brief bondage/restraint, heavy insecurity on readers part, self-doubt, dirty talk, pet names, dom!uzi, sub!reader, desperation, oral (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), muscly uzi, unprotected sex (dont do it guys....), pining, bad writing, red velvet are your friends, theyre super fun, mingyu is excluded badly, he just wants to b a part of it :(

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "i am simply a hole for him", "pussy? wet. heart? pounding. me? yearning", "every1 talks ab sapphic yearning but what ab just. jihoon-yearning?",

wordcount: 12.0k

a/n: idk why but this is deffo not as good as my previous works. n e way also sorry to @onlyseokmins bc i promised her a seokmin fic WHICH IS STILL COMING i just felt like this was kinda genius and needed to happen first ok bye

It’s mid-spring, and the world is blossoming and flowering around you. Grass sprouts greener, plants drink in the heavy rainfall and flowers are blooming, slowly unfurling their pedaled heads to crane into the beautiful sky. At odds with nature, people walk the street to be drenched in the downpour, only to be dried off by the shyly peeking sun, and to have freckles surfacing on their skin and hair, getting frizzy from the humidity, when they’re biking along the streets. It’s serene, it’s natural. You’re reminded to love the place that birthed and fostered you.

But that’s out there.

You’re sitting, bottom planted firmly on the sticky surface of Joshua Hong’s couch, looking distantly into artificially colored lights, flickering across the floor, where people are dancing on one another in skimpy outfits and makeup, and everything is very far from the moon and the flowers.

“The second one is a lie!” Seulgi yells over the music, cup of god knows what in her hand, and slurring her words.

Sitting on the couch and stools surrounding the coffee table is you, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Seulgi, Irene, Yeri and Jihoon.

“No, I know she likes anal!” Screams Soonyoung giddily (forever oblivious to his surroundings), receiving a glare from your roommate, Yeri. You were currently playing two truths and one lie, and attempting to discern whether Yeri was lying about being on television, lying about having black belt in taekwondo or lying about having tried anal. “It’s about whether or not she’s tried it!” Irene rolls her eyes and huffs. “My point still stands,” Soonyoung grins and eyes Yeri, and you watch somewhat disgusted, reminding yourself to ask her about it later.

You’re sitting next to Mingyu, utterly small next to him, and the two of you are only watching the scene unfold, sharing snickering glances when something funny happens. “I’ve never done taekwondo!” Yeri screams at Soonyoung, and you and Mingyu fall back in your seats laughing and slapping each other, when Soonyoung’s face drops for a moment.

“They’re so dumb!” Mingyu cries, and you nod buried in a decorative pillow.

“Screw this noise, I’m finding Junhui,” Hoshi mumbles, a little deflated from his loss. Then he’s standing up, cargo-pants and all, and trudging away, pouting over his shoulder when he hears the laughing continue.

Jihoon - who’s been incredibly quiet and observant throughout the night, only sipping a single bottle of beer, slaps his thighs. You’re hoping in his ever searching eyes he hasn’t seen the way you’ve been staring at him all night. Are you drunk or is he so complex and sexy, and wearing a t-shirt that shows his huge arms and pants that show his thick thighs? You’re almost certain you can chalk this up to only ever seeing him in sweaters that totally swallow him - almost. “I’m going too,” he announces, standing up and not leaving much room for argument.

“Why? I’ll be the only guy,” Mingyu whines, pout pushing out his bottom lip. You scoff. You know he loves feeling like he’s one of the girls. “Paper,” Jihoon says, and adds more, when he realizes he’s being so curt it’s almost rude: “Tomorrow. I have a paper tomorrow.”

The group seems to accept this, knowing the stresses of college are weighing on each of them heavily. But your eyes narrow. You’re not buying it.

You watch him sling his jacket across his body, biting back more words. He’s quiet, sure, but never this quiet. With how he’d slumped back in his seat all night, almost bent into himself, there must be something bugging him. Jihoon’s eyes meet yours. It’s a half a second, but you feel like he knows you’re on to him, the way he hides his face under his long, black hair again and turns his back to you. All of a sudden he’s hurrying away, excusing himself half-heartedly. You narrow your eyes even further and purse your lips.

“Be right back,” you say. Seulgi pouts.

You’re trudging after him, fussing with your hair all of a sudden and adjusting your dress and - God, you care so much how he sees you. But you suppose you care more that he’s okay. That’s why you’re squeezing through the dancefloor, getting grinded on by several anonymous bodies, before pushing out to the entrance and finally breathing air that wasn't coming directly from someone else’s mouth.

“Jihoon, wait-”

You catch up to him by the doorway, where he’s stopped his journey, to slip Vernon a bill for a ziploc of mediocre weed.

“Jihoon!”

Finally, he hears you and he turns to you, where you’re regaining your last leg from the mass of bodies. Vernon is apparently still sober enough (you wouldn’t have thought so) to understand time and place, so he gently pushes past the two of you into the crowd.

You’re not ready for the look he gives you. Eyes so sharp and face darkened from his shaggy hair, curling into his face, and frowning and furrowing his brows as if he couldn’t understand why you’re here.

It sends your out-reaching body slamming backwards. You’re shrinking away from him, eyes flitting downwards self-consciously. You consider your history with him for a moment, weighing it in a glass of vodka-cranberry. This is pathetic, you realize, and it feels terrible. You’re pathetic and desperate and clingy and why would you feel the need to ask him this.

And then one moment to the next you’re scolding yourself for thinking that way. For thinking it was wrong to reach out a helping hand.

Jihoon apparently has enough of you debating with the angel and the devil on your shoulder, because he speaks finally: “What is it?”

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay?”

Another pause. You watch Jihoon’s face soften in shock, mouth falling open for a split second, before he’s closing it again and looking away. The ziploc crunches in his fingers, when they tighten and he shoves it into his inner pocket.

“I’m good,” he says.

“Okay.”

And this time and even longer pause! You can barely take it, the way he looks at you, and it almost feels like he suspicious of you, like he’s trying to discern what you’re doing here in front of him.

“Have a good night,” you say. He nods slowly and begins to walk off, and you watch him and the way the moonlight fills the entrance, so you’re coated in for a moment. Then it disappears with a slam of the door. You let out a shaky sigh.

Why did you do that? Why would you even think to do something like that?

You decide against standing there for any longer, not allowing yourself to overanalyze it, and you turn around to go back to your friends. Yet again comes the song and dance of trying to navigate the most terrifying human cesspool, face scrunching up in disgust as you make your way back to the sofa, almost unscathed, except you think you accidentally got caught in an armpit.

“Y/n! Come quick, so you can be a part of this momentous- momentous.. Moment!” You hear Mingyu calling and when he’s finally in view, you realize something very, very terrible is about to happen.

Mingyu’s holding a leather notebook between his fingers - Jihoon’s notebook. It’s the one he’s always writing in; the one he shuts closed whenever anyone gets too close, the one he keeps tucked under his arm at all times; the one he’s inexplicably writing in, even if he’s blasted on Vernon’s weed. And it’s private and he’s somehow forgotten it.

“We’re not opening it,” you say immediately, power-walking back to your spot in the couch. Mingyu snaps his head towards you, and he almost looks offended at that. “What do you mean we’re not opening it, of course we’re opening it!”

“It could be private, Gyu!” You retort and Seulgi chimes from her spot on the couch: “I’m with Y/n.”

“No, what? Fuck you guys! We’re seeing what’s in that notebook!-” Irene spits. “Thank you!” Mingyu says.

“Yeri, it’s up to you,” you say, eyeing your roommate sharply, as you sit down again. The entire group turns to her, fury behind their retinas, and she gulps, shrinking a little.

“Me, I just…” she shrugs abashedly and trails off. There’s a moment where you think she’ll side with you and leave the poor boy alone. You have some semblance of faith in your friendship, and maybe, maybe she’ll back you-

“He’s a music major, it’s probably just angsty lyrics, now open!”

“Yes!” Irene and Mingyu gloat, and despite wanting to respect his privacy, you scoot closer to Mingyu (he scoffs at you, but does not mention it further, as he is itching with curiosity). With a solemn, heaved sigh, as if about to unfurl the world’s grandest mysteries, Mingyu’s large hand flips the book open.

There’s no justified way to put word to the shock that follows this. The first page reads:

“Girl Code Rule #1

Guys should bring flowers on the first date. Either lilies, roses or tulips. Depends on vibe.”

There’s a confused silence - as much as silence as you can get from a bass-boosted room of drunk college students.

“What?” Irene quacks in disappointment, leaning closer to read it again. “Why-.. Go to the next page.” And Mingyu does, turning over the page and the next couple of pages follow suit.

“Girl Code Rule #2

Whoever offered the date pays for dinner. First date should always be dinner, ‘none of the bowling crap’.

Girl Code Rule #3

Guys are more attractive the more hygienic they are.

Girl Code Rule #4

It’s an ick to wear skinny jeans. *Google what an ick is.”

They come one after another, each more confusing than the last, and it’s not until number 5, that the heavy, suffocating spread of realization begins blooming among you. Clarity - your minds open like leaves of a flower in spring.

“Girl Code Rule #5

The cinema on Attacca street is a nightmare and we hate them. Never go there.”

“That’s-” you begin.

“Us!” Yeri finishes, pointing her finger at the page but directing her eyes, wide and pupils small from shock, towards you. The group exchange gaping glances. It’s undeniable - the cinema thing is relating to an incident that had happened months prior. You refuse to go into detail, but it had gotten grim.

“These are all things we’ve said!” Seulgi snatches the book out of Mingyu’s hold, beginning to mindlessly scroll through the book with furrowed brows, etch growing deeper and deeper in outrage.

“That’s- This is crazy. That’s so not cool!” You shriek and Yeri nods in agreement: “Girl code is for girls only!”

There’s a general agreement on the outrageousness of this. That is, except for one big boy on the couch.

“I meaaaan,” Mingyu is looking a little sheepish sitting in the middle of you and Yeri and Seulgi and Irene. All eyes flit towards him, small and sharp. He’s talking slowly, lowly and carefully: “You guys have to have said it out loud while he was there, so you weren’t exactly being discreet…”

“Men don’t usually listen to women, we thought we were in the clear!” Irene hisses.

“No man has ever listened to me in my entire life,” Seulgi deadpans, looking at Mingyu from beyond the book. Mingyu throws his hands out, incidentally hitting Yeri in the face, and ignoring her pained groans when she falls back on the couch. “I listened. Just now. Check that off your list-”

“Why is he writing this down..?” You mumble, seemingly the only one grasping the gravity of the situation (although maybe there is none? You can never tell when it’s with him) and it truly is such a mystery. Was he attempting to pry open the minds of women? You don’t exactly think he has trouble finding dates, so you’re left a little at a loss.

“Let’s ask him-” Mingu says.

“He just left, dumbass,” Irene spits and you can tell she’s almost disgusted with herself for ever siding with him.

“Let’s ask him tomorrow, then, after class,” you say decidedly.

“Ugh, don’t talk about tomorrow..” Yeri groans, and you can see the regret settling in because why do all the hot guys throw weeknight parties? “Y/n, can we go home?” she asks and you’re nodding immediately.

“Seul?”

“Yep.”

And in the span of just a couple of seconds, your entire friend group is packing up, Seulgi stuffing the book into her tote bag. Mingyu’s still sitting, much smaller when you’re standing over him, and when he has that almost starstruck look on his face. “I’m so glad I’m a part of this, guys.”

“You’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu counters, clearly thinking otherwise. He’s grinning stupidly. “Hey, wait, where are we confronting him tomorrow?” he calls out suddenly, but you’re already on your way out.

“GUYS! WHERE ARE WE MEETING?” _____________________________

You, Yeri, Seulgi, and Irene sit side by side on the middle-back row in class, eyeing Jihoon from the peaks. It’s a quiet, morning class, and the teacher rambles on while the four of you glare down at him. Or at least they glare. You hope it’s not noticeable how there’s something softer in your eyes - something almost tender. He’s fidgeting a little. Maybe he feels the pairs of eyes on the back of his black-buried head or maybe he’s noticed the book is gone and he feels the consequences coming.

It was certainly a strange situation to tackle. Mingyu did have a point, if it was a private conversation, you certainly had not discussed it as such. And even then, was there a crime in what he was doing? You just couldn’t understand how Jihoon possibly felt the need to garner all this information on women. He’d never had trouble picking up girls. You would know.

You shake the terrible, terrible thought away, when Irene speaks up: “The coward is all nervous.”

“Okay, let’s calm down. We can’t know he’s an evildoer, before we find out his true intentions.” Seulgi reasons, a hand soothing over Irene’s arm. Yeri nods softly. “God, I wish class was over.”

And suddenly it was. Well, twenty more minutes of suffering through a class that was totally lost, picked up by the pollen-saturated wind. Then the professor is excusing himself and wiping the board.

Never in your life had your group been so fast at packing up their things, pencils and computers shoved down bags, before you’re strutting (model-walking) over to Jihoon. “We need to talk to you,” Yeri says, once she’s in front of his desk, hand on the wood. Jihoon looks up from where he’s packing his bag, eyes peeking through the thick strands of hair. He nods. He knows.

As you wait for students to exit the class (Minghao giving Jihoon a confused grimace, before he squeezes out), you study Jihoon. He’s still sitting, and you’re all towering over him. His pale skin is glowing in the light and he purses his lip and bounces his leg - God, his thick leg - in nervous await.

Students are slipping out the door in droves and when the last, tired body escapes, Seulgi reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather-bound book. “We read it.”

“I figured,” he mutters. He’s avoiding your eyes, flinching a little when Irene slams her hand onto the book. “So, why have you been writing down the girl code?”

Jihoon sighs. His lips make a tight line, and you can see how he wonders what to say. The pause would’ve been more tense had you not had the girls with you.

“The girl code is for girls only,” Yeri supplies.

“Well, you weren’t exactly being discreet about it-”

“Just answer the question, Jihoon!” Seulgi snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is, like, top-level strange.”

“Alright!” Jihoon throws his hands up in the air. His eyes flit to you, totally quiet and scratching your nails on the wooden table. You look away. He sighs a little. “I… It’s..”

You almost want to hug him when he buries his face in his hands, tugging at the ends of his hair.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

The four of you exchange glances.

“We won’t.”

He pauses.

“It’s.. IhaveacrushonthisgirlandIdon’twanttomessitup.”

There’s a beat, where the information glides cooly into your skulls and you begin to process. Jihoon - cold, cynical, loner Jihoon - has a crush on a girl and is trying to improve himself for her?

Holy hell.

“Jihoon!” cries Seulgi and Irene chimes in, equally as adoring and diffused: “That’s so cute, you should’ve just said something!”

There’s an uproar of coos and cries and oohs and ahhs and compliments being thrown at Jihoon and he just sits there, cheeks blazing bright red, although with a little, shy smile on his lips.

And then there’s you. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you help the slight disappointment that lowers on you, like the fog does in the blooming season? Why can’t you smile wider, happier for Jihoon? Why do you feel this way? Does it really take all this commotion for you to realize how much you want him? You half-smile and look at your shoes. Just as how your feelings blossomed like a flower in spring, you hope they, too, are destined to wither away once more.

“Congratulations,” you say to him, giving him a dignified nod. Jihoon looks at you for a moment, before he smiles tightly and thanks you.

“Jihoon!” Yeri says, and you know you’re about to hate her for what comes next: “We can totally help you with the crush!”

Jihoon’s eyes widen. “Really? I mean- you guys don’t have to-”

“No, no! You can come to our girls’ nights and we can tell you everything!” Irene cuts in, nodding in reassurance. Jihoon smiles to himself a little sheepishly.

“Who is it?” Seulgi asks, and you can tell her heart is triple its usual size.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Come on!” Seulgi begs, but Jihoon is steadfast. He gives her cheeky smile and shakes his head again. “No way. It’s my secret.”

“We can keep a secret!” Yeri begs, bending her knees in plea. You, unusually quiet, speak up again: “We can.”

There’s a pause while Jihoon looks at you again. He narrows his eyes and it’s almost like he’s trying to decode you. Maybe he’s noticed you’re just as quiet as he was, at that party. You hate yourself when your heart picks up at the thought of him caring about you.

Suddenly he’s snapping out of it and smiling and shaking his ruffled head of hair again. “No. If girl code was supposed to be a secret, then I don’t even wanna think about telling you.”

This time there’s no talkback, only somewhat embarrassed nods.

“We deserve that.” _____________________________

You come back to your dorm room that afternoon, and lie down in bed. Thoughts of Jihoon plague your mind and you feel disease-ridden, attempting to push away the thought with the same useless reminder: You should do your paper, gotta do your paper now, it’s due very soon…

But no matter how many times you tell yourself, you can’t overcome the crushing feeling in your chest, like your entire rib cage is being compressed.

You know when these emotions started. It was at the Halloween party, six months ago, and Jihoon had been wearing a cop-outfit and you, with a more humorous approach, a lobster costume (Mingyu was a chef). Somehow, he’d still found you sexy though, because he was laughing in the bathroom of Seungcheol’s frat house, ripping the costume off of you.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck a lobster,” he’d said in between kisses, laughing again as he caught sight of the costume, discarded on the floor. You giggled. “Me neither. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know?”

And he’d thrown his head back, still with that black hair, still in that sexy fucking uniform, and his nose all scrunched and adam’s apple bopping in time with his joyful laughter. “Stop making me laugh while I’m trying to get you wet!”

“I’m already wet,” you’d shrugged, “you’re hot.”

And before you knew it you were handcuffed and he was rutting into you against the sink. His cock was disappearing and reappearing from your pussy, hooked onto him like a vice. Groaning and listening to your withheld moans, he’d left the most sinful hickies along your shining neck, while mumbling desperate praises to you: “You’re so pretty, N/n, letting me have you like this, so fucking hot.”

You supposed you’d buried those feelings, because you felt so pathetic for catching feelings from a one night stand.

And it is pathetic. And you are pathetic, and desperate, and alone, and God, is it even Jihoon, or is it the way it suddenly feels like no one wants you?

“Stop that,” Yeri says suddenly, lying on her bed on the opposite side of your room. You tilt your tired eyes towards her. “What?”

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” She said nonchalantly, dropping her phone, that she’d been mindlessly scrolling through. Cheeks bunched up on your pillow and mascara smudging under your eyes, you look at her and sigh.

“Just tired,” you hum. _____________________________

Jihoon has been adopted. For a whole week following that incident, suddenly, your friends are taking him with them everywhere, and your safe space is invaded by his hair, his laugh, and his subtle cologne. It’s him with you during movie nights, it’s him during girls’ nights, and it’s him while you’re getting ready for a bar-night, all sitting in Irene and Seulgi’s pink-tastic room, doing makeup on the floor and on the desks and on the bed.

“I love your eye makeup,” Seulgi says to Yeri (it’s a pink number with glittery inner corners), under eyes totally covered in white powder, as she’s baking her makeup. Jihoon is sitting on the floor, hair tied up in two pigtails that Irene had given him. “Thank you, Seul.”

You’re doing your own makeup, working blush into your cheeks and trying not to look at him, the way he’s half-lying on the carpeted floor, looking absentmindedly into his phone. His thighs are huge, and he’s wearing gray sweatpants, and you think you’re going insane.

Irene (who’s done with her makeup before anyone else, always) looks up from her own phone. She narrows her eyes deviously. “Jihoon, what do you think of Yeri’s makeup?”

Jihoon snaps his head up, pigtails bouncing. “Uh,” he looks a little lost, when he turns his head over to Yeri, who smiles sheepishly, not totally understanding what was happening. “It’s nice.”

“Just nice?” Irene smirks, and Jihoon finally seems to catch on to the fact that this is some sort of test. Indeed it was, and you knew it from the moment Irene began to talk. Your eyes flit between them, sitting behind you in the mirror. “Can you elaborate on that?” Irene smirks.

“It’s…” Jihoon considers what to respond, almost nervous. “She looks better without makeup.”

“Son, no!”

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!”

It’s a cacophony from the girls, even a pillow is thrown at his head, which he dodges in shock. “Never say that to a girl, Jihoon! It’s rude!” Irene lectures, a finger pointedly thrown in his direction. When he doesn’t seem to get it, Yeri explains: “Imagine spending time on something, only for someone to say they’d wish you hadn’t done it all.”

Jihoon, who’s been bristling like a disturbed cat up until now, softens in understanding. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, our child, you’re learning,” Irene says, face turning back to her phone, as she apparently has lost interest in the conversation.

You watch quietly with a bemused smile, having paused your ministrations on your face, brush held in the air before you. Jihoon’s eyes flicker over to you, an unreadable expression on his face. You meet his eyes in the mirror, pitch black and blank. You look away quickly.

You can feel him, still looking at you, and you feel self-conscious at the way you crooken your back to better focus on your face. What’s he thinking? That you look ugly? That your back is ugly? Your makeup?

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

You freeze. His voice is soft as ever, and you understand now, better than ever, why he’s a music major, because it’s so melodious and sweet in your ears. All eyes in the room snap to you and you eye them all in the mirror. “Yep.”

Yeri sighs, exasperated. “She’s been depresso for, like, a week.”

“I’ve been fine,” you correct, smudging out the pencil on your lid. “I’ve been fineeee,” Yeri mocks, making her voice nasally and high. You glare at her through the mirror, but all she does is stick her tongue out at you.

“I’m just stressed out, okay? I've got a lot on my plate,” you mumble bitterly, and it’s true, because every time you’re trying to do assignments, papers, write notes and focus in class, you think of him, and how he doesn’t want you. And one wrong thing leads to another, and then you’re thinking about how no one wants you, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since you entered college. And then it’s something about how you look, or it’s something about how you are, as a person, and you just sit at your desk with this terrible feeling in you gut, trying not to cry, or hoping that your sniffles don’t overpower Replay by Shinee blasting in Yeri’s headphones, as she’s eating crackers in bed, just a few feet away from you.

“Just talk to us if you need anything, okay?” Seulgi frowns and you smile at her, hoping it looks convincing. She nods at you, turning back to her handheld mirror. But alas one person stays staring at you. You avoid his eyes, trying not to look like you’re about to cry.

“I can arrange a spa day? We can get our toes done,” Irene asks, and she wiggles her toes in the air for emphasis. “Ooo, yes!” Yeri exclaims.

Finally, Jihoon’s attention is ripped from you, wincing at the thought of another person handling his feet. “Can I skip out on that, maybe?”

Irene scratches her chin, pretending to think about it. Then she says, bluntly and directly: “Nah.”

_____________________________

“Let me come with you to the spa!”

“No! Jihoon, walk faster,” like a mother, Seulgi is grabbing Jihoon’s wrist and dragging him further from the tall, huge man behind you. Mingyu is following you all like a dog, whining and crying, and pouting. “Please, guys! I don’t wanna go with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, they’re mean!”

“Spa day is for girls only!” Yeri yells over her shoulder, as the five of you stumble away from Mingyu, crying out to you. “What about him?” Mingyu yells and points.

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” Seulgi tells Jihoon and he nods very seriously. “He’s our adopted son! Now shoo!”

Finally Mingyu gives up the chase, and you disappear behind the outerwall, beginning down a busy street towards Irene’s favorite spa. “I don’t get how you’re friends with that guy,” Irene says, elbowing you, and you both snicker. “He’s a pup,” you shrug.

The streets are filled with people, the sun is shining, and it’s spring, and everything should be great, because you’re with your friends. But he’s here too. Swallowed up by his hoodie, pitch black in a sea of colors, he’s still here and his very presence has you tense, and yearning for the touch of a masseuse. The streets that had grown so familiar, that you thought you had learnt and mastered, had become so foreign, and you’re trying to escape into yourself, trying to find a backdoor out of the constant blabbering, teaching Jihoon the importance of gossip and female communication and companionship. These are your friends. The sadness eventually musters into frustration.

Soon enough, you’re sighing so hard you think your soul escapes with it through your mouth. A spa-worker begins massaging your feet, and working her thumbs into your sore soles. Irene laughs at your reaction, two seats over. “Told you all you needed was a spa day!” she beams. Yeah, a spa day and maybe a new friend group that wouldn’t adopt the guy who you should certainly not be around!

And speaking of him, he’s sitting in the chair right next to yours, grimacing and flinching back from the disdained worker.

“What are you gonna tell her?” Yeri quips, smiling at the end of the row. Jihoon takes a second to snap out of his constant flinching, looking over at her nervously. “Oh, uh…”

The girls are all looking at him expectantly, but you’re squeezing your eyes shut and wishing your ears could shut too.

“Probably, like.. ‘Hey, I like you, would you maybe wanna go out on a date sometime?”

“Pssh!”

“Absolutely not!”

“As if!”

Jihoon is a little flabbergasted.

“Here’s what you’re actually gonna say,” Seulgi leans over in her chair towards him, directing him with a finger in her armrest. You hear Jihoon scramble in his chair, and you know he’s taking out that stupid notebook again.

Seulgi lowers her voice to mimic his, when she talks again: “‘Hi, crush, how are you?’ Wait for her response… Then: ‘I’ve always thought you were very beautiful. Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date, would that be okay with you?’ And be suave about it.”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

Yeri and Irene burst into laughter, hitting the armrests of their chairs and covering their bright smiles with their hands. Even you snort in amusement. “What?!” Seulgi exclaims, outraged. “What’s so funny about that?”

“Nothing, I just-...” Irene wafts herself, trying to ease away that tears of glee that spring in her eyes. “I can’t imagine any man, let alone our son, saying that to a woman.. Wow.”

“It’s good! I would be flattered,” Seulgi defends herself viciously. Yeri snorts from her seat: “It’s not a drama, Seul!”

“Well!” Seulgi scoffs, twisting her upper body to face Yeri now. “Maybe I would like my life to be a drama, thank you very much!”

Their argument continues viciously, insults and laughter being thrown at each other left and right and you can almost begin to tune them own, letting the feeling of pads on your feet and a gentle, cool brush on the nail lure you to sleep.

Then there’s a hand on your forearm. You peek an eye open and see him - God, it just has to be him - leaning over his chair to gently grasp you. He looks at you through lashes, and he’s so sincere that it kills you when he says: “I can tell you’re not okay.”

You’re a little taken aback, one second prior you were being lulled to sleep and now he’s talking to you, so low, so seriously, while the girls try to attack each other behind him. You wish your heart isn’t suddenly galloping, and you wish his warmth on your arm and radiating onto you isn’t so nauseating. “I-”

“Don't say you are, when you're not. You’re very obvious, you know?” he hums, smiling softly when he sees you flush from his intense gaze. You avert your eyes nervously. “Uhm. I just.. I don’t really want to talk about it, Hoon.”

You flick your eyes back up to his to survey his reaction. His expression softens at the nickname, and he holds your gaze for a moment longer, before he nods in understanding, all the warmth of his closeness disappearing, when he sits back down in his seat.

“That’s okay,” he smiles at you in reassurance, and your heart leaps, and you can’t help but think that he doesn’t need anymore training to make his crush - whoever the lucky girl is - completely and totally happy for several lifetimes.

He’s a beautiful, sun-beamed flower, where he sits, light flitting through the store-front windows. You’d be happy for several lifetimes. If only he wanted you. _____________________________

“What is going on?!”

It’s Mingyu, and he’s somehow found you, as you’re trudging out of your latest class, suddenly hot on your trail and outraged about something or other. “What?” you mumble, heading to the cafe near the end of the hall.

“With Jihoon?! Why does he get to be your son when I don’t?!” Mingyu wafts his arms and pouts and you cringe, leaning away from his loud voice. “Ugh…”

“I need to know why he was writing that girl code stuff, Y/n. Why is he suddenly allowed at girls’ nights, when I’ve been trying to get in for months?!”

You take a turn into the cafe and sigh at how crowded it is, immediately placing yourself in line, Mingyu right behind you. “Calm down,” you say, just wanting a sandwich and maybe some peace and qui-

“I will not!” he snaps back, brows furrowed and a determined look on his face. You look up at him, pursing your lips in thought. Did Mingyu deserve to know? Maybe. He had been trying to get into girls’ nights forever, always going on about being ‘an honorary member’.

“I’m not sure I can tell you- Hey, can I get a tuna sandwich, please?” You say, quickly turned to the clerk behind the counter. “I won’t tell anyone, pleaseee- Can you get me one of those too? Thanks.”

You’re handed your sandwiches, and you hold both of them, drifting over to a table by the window, both of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders and his voice in your ear: “Please, please, please, pretty please with the sugar on top?”

You plop down in your seat, simply exasperated, and hand him his sandwich. He’s settling himself down when you answer: “Okay.”

“Yes!” Mingyu fists the air in victory, mumbling self-assured under his breath: “Begging always works.” You snort and take a big bite of your sandwich.

“Stop eating and tell me!” he whines. “I’m hungry– Hey!”

Mingyu snatches the sandwich right out of your hands and grins at you deviously, dancing with it. You hate him. You hate him, but it is a little endearing.

“Jihoon has a crush on some girl and he’s been writing down the girl code in an attempt to understand women,” you deadpan, and when Mingyu’s mouth and guard drops, you snatch your sandwich back and begin gulping down hungrily.

“Are you shitting me?!” You shake your head.

“So, that's why he's allowed at girls’ night?” You nod your head.

“So, that’s why you’ve been so down?” You almost choke on your food.

“What?”

“Because you like him,” Mingyu says seriously and, with a totally stunned look on your face, you shark down the bits of sandwich in your mouth painfully. “How do you know that?!” you cry, head suddenly snapping in seventy different directions, relief washing over you, when none of your or Jihoon’s friends are around.

“Because you’ve been acting all weird around him since you fucked at Seungcheol’s Halloween party,” Mingyu shrugs. You wave your arms wildly.

“How do you know that?!” Whining, you throw yourself back in your seat, and bury your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. Your delicate secret, the one that could have - should have - simply faded away into summer, was now out and open, and you look out the window, and it’s spring.

“I know everything,” Mingu says ominously, giggling evilly.

“Mingyu, I will fucking kill you.”

“Fine! I needed to pee and you guys were super loud,” Mingyu pouts and takes a bite of his own sandwich. “No need to be so rude.”

“I can’t believe you know,” you groan, head collapsing on the table. Mingyu, forever and always silly, finally softens and frowns. You’re scattered.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you say. Then, a moment later (in true Girl Code fashion) you’re lifting your head from the table and burying it in your hands: “I just. I don’t know, Mingyu. I feel so pathetic for liking him after a one night stand! And now he’s doing all this for another woman and he’s with us all the time…I haven’t had a boyfriend in college, Mingyu. I just feel so…” There’s a pause, when you’re trying to find the right word, and Mingyu stops breathing, looking at you and fearing the worst. Then comes the word, ripping itself from your lips:

“Unlovable.”

Mingyu’s frown deepens. Big, puppy Mingyu who’s always silly and happy, just slumps in on himself. “You’re not unlovable,” he mumbles, sounding genuinely disbelieving. You scoff.

“Thanks, Mingyu, it’s just.. That’s how it feels,” you admit, running a hand through your hair and looking at your half-eaten sandwich on the table. Mingyu’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks up again, he’s determined, and you can discern almost immediately that there’s no escaping this plan. Or he’ll for God’s sake start begging again.

“I’m going to wingman you,” he’s nodding to himself, and you can see the plan falling into place in his head, “I’m gonna wingman you and set you up with my friend at the party on Saturday!”

“Please, don’t,” you groan half-heartedly, but a piece of you brightens with hope, with summer, like maybe this was the thing you needed to get over your schoolgirl-crush on Jihoon.

“No,” Mingyu responds simply. “This is happening.” _____________________________

Indeed, it is happening.

The frat house is practically bumping with each beat of whatever pop song is playing over the speakers, and you lean into the rhythm that reverberates in the kitchen table beneath your fingers.

You somewhat wish that you hadn’t been as excited for this as you were, that you hadn’t spent hours picking out the perfect pink dress and doing your makeup, and that you aren’t hopelessly dependant on Mingyu (of all people) to find you a fuck. But you are. Putting on that dress and hoop earrings and doing your hair and declining Yeri’s invitation to the girls’ (and Jihoon’s) pre-party, you feel like you’re scrambling, like constantly falling through the air, flailing for something to ground yourself on.

Now, scanning over the tinted lights and the dancing people and feeling the slight, warm buzz of vodka in your blood, you know you need this. And still, you combat that slight anxiety, the insecurity that you hadn’t felt in years - what if Mingyu couldn’t find a single guy that wanted you?

Mingyu doesn’t seem worried though.

“Okay! We just gotta figure out who to set you up with. Take your pick,” he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing and gauging your reaction. Your brows furrow as you shrug. Somehow, even when half the guys are objectively hot, you can’t say you find yourself drawn to any of them. You don’t linger on the feeling, fearful that maybe you’ll realize all the things they’re missing, the things they’re falling short of, are just Jihoon’s traits. “I don’t know, man. I just-..”

Mingyu senses your struggle and elects to give you his excellent guidance. “Alright, well you could do Joshua?” He’s pointing somewhere in the crowd, and sure enough, you notice Joshua, majoring in communications or something like that. “He’s a star: total hottie, super smart, sweet and considerate, and-”

“And he fucked Yeri,” you deadpan, head lolling over to look at Mingyu disapprovingly. Mingyu’s mouth falls open: “What?!”

“Yeah, like, two months ago!” you argue, wafting your hands. Mingyu’s mouth stays open, and he’s seemingly totally appalled by this.

“What?! Okay- nevermind. How about him?” He points his long limbs again, and this time you notice-

You narrow your eyes confusedly. Hopefully Mingyu was not trying to set you up with the biggest player in your year? “Jeonghan?!”

“What? No, the guy beside him, dickwad,” he playfully smacks the side of your head as you refocus your eyes. Indeed, a blonde guy is standing next to Jeonghan, seemingly whining at him. “Who’s he?”

“Lee Chan. Super sweet, great bod, a little dumb, but very doting-”

“Is he a freshman?!” you cry, almost as if it were a crime. Mingyu huffs. “You’re not making this easy, you know?!”

“I’m not dating or fucking a freshman,” you cross your arms and Mingyu senses the air of finality in your words. He sighs, slumping behind you for a moment, before he spots something across the room.

“Wonwoo! What about him?” he doesn’t even bother pointing at this point, simply tilts your head towards the man, who was currently talking to Seungcheol a little ways from the kitchen. You spot him. You suppose you’d always been a little curious about Wonwoo. From what you’d seen of him in passing, he was sweet and polite, absolutely gorgeous and extremely smart. You nod solemnly.

“I could- I could see that,” you say and Mingyu’s eyes light up. He bounces victoriously, punching the air. “He’s great, you’re- you’re gonna love him,” Mingyu delights and before you can even get another word in, Mingyu’s yelling across the room: “Hey, Wonwoo! Wonwoo, scootch over here!”

Your eyes widen in shock. “Wha- we’re doing this now? Just, on the fly? No warning?”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu waves you off, eyes trained on where Wonwoo is now walking towards you.

“Do I look okay?” your voice is wavering nervously. You still can’t help how you feel, even in your dress and your makeup. Where had all your confidence gone? The confidence with which you’d literally fucked Jihoon in a lobster-costume? Even the thought of him stings. Mingyu’s confident facade falters for only a split second at the vulnerability in your tone. His gaze softens and he looks at you: “You look great, N/n. Calm down, Wonwoo’s super nice.”

“Hey, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is cool, as he approaches Mingyu. Standing in front of you and Mingyu, he briefly scans you, then acknowledges you with a nod and a sweet smile. “Wonwoo, hey, you know, I was just wondering if you’ve already done the history paper?”

Wonwoo is unamused. “I’m not doing your paper again, Mingyu.”

“Oh well, shucks, that’s simply too bad,” Mingyu (poorly) feigns annoyance and defeat, before he’s grabbing your shoulder. “Anyway, Wonwoo, have you met my very good friend, Y/n?”

You fake a smile, hoping the absolute pain of the current interaction was not showing on your face. If you’d known Mingyu was this bad at wing-manning, you would’ve gladly put up with his begging instead. You want to crawl into a hole and die, because based on Wonwoo’s smug smile, he has a pretty good understanding of what’s happening.

“Whoops, look at the time!” Mingyu looks at his wrist. He is not wearing a watch. “Damn, I guess I gotta go and- and leave my two good friends alone with each other, such a shame, uh, anyway!” As he speaks he backs further and further from you, trying to ignore the glare in your eyes, before he’s bolting at his last word.

There’s an awkward silence as soon as Mingyu’s gone. You feel like an unshelled turtle. You purse your lips and stare at your heel-clad feet.

“So, Mingyu was trying to wingman you?” Wonwoo’s voice is deep and bemused. You look at him in horror, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation.

“Yeah,” your breathe, and he immediately begins laughing. “Sorry about that, he was- he was just trying to be helpful, although it’s hard to defend him right now.”

“He’s wingmanned me before, too,” Wonwoo muses and, thank God, this was actually a good thing. You find a balance on the common ground. “Really?” you grin, looking up at him.

“Yep,” Wonwoo admits, “safe to say I did not get my dick wet.”

You laugh hard, and it feels like a switch has flipped inside you, restarting your joy-generator, because you’re laughing and hitting Wonwoo’s arm, and he’s smiling because he’s just made a pretty girl laugh.

“He’s so bad!” you say when you’re done laughing. “Everytime!” Wonwoo drawls, “Everytime he pulls that shit and he’s never wearing a watch!”

You and Wonwoo laugh together, throwing (good-hearted) snarky comments about Mingyu around, and your cheeks are rosy and shining in the kitchen-light. Finally, party still bumpin’ and pumpin’ in the near distance, your laughter dies down and you’re both half-leaning against the counter. Wonwoo looks down at you with a smug smile.

“What?” you ask, growing insecure again under his gaze. He hums.

“So you asked for me?”

“Hm?”

“When Mingyu was wingmanning you,” Wonwoo reminded you, tilting his head. “You asked for me?”

“I-” you stutter, and your heart clenches nervously, because if things had been right, if things were different at least, you would have asked for Jihoon. It’s this gut-punching guilt. It feels wrong to use him, Wonwoo, to overcome Jihoon. “He was laying down my options.”

“Options?” Wonwoo quips, brow raised questioningly, but he doesn’t interrogate further. Instead, he leans his head down, so he’s much, much closer to you, breathing hitting your face when he whispers: “But you wanted to fuck me. Isn’t that right?”

You gulp. His presence is almost suffocating. Avoiding his eyes, you flicker them onto the dancefloor, where-

Where Jihoon is storming out of the house.

You squeeze your eyes shut - something Wonwoo thinks is out of embarrassment, from the question he’s just asked you - and try to refocus on Wonwoo. Try to ignore how the thoughts about Jihoon come bubbling in your head. It was probably something with his crush. You want to do nothing more than comfort him, hold him, steal away every bad thought he may ever have.

You open your eyes, hoping that somehow seeing Wonwoo’s face would fill you with a need for him - him, and not Jihoon - but seeing him in the low lighting only serves as a reminder that Wonwoo is not him.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I gotta go. I’m really, really sorry-” you say suddenly, and immediately you’re scurrying towards the door. Wonwoo frowns, eyes following you in your path. “Did I- Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, you were hot!” you say absent-mindedly, before you’re disappearing into the entrance, and then further along, out the door.

Wonwoo stands alone at the counter, still somewhat leaned towards your ghost in front of him, and shakes his head in confusion. “What the fuck?” _____________________________

“Jihoon?”

You exit just in time to see him, stomping on the other side of the road, armless denim jacket wafting in the wind. It’s spring, just warm enough that you’re not freezing, but still cold enough that you curl your arms around yourself. Your hair blows gently. It smells distantly like flowers.

He turns around at your voice. When he does, you know your suspicions were right. He looks so defeated. His gorgeous long hair, that usually only makes you clench your thighs together, is limp and drags him downwards. His arms hang similarly at his sides, fists clenched at the bottom, causing veins to ripple along the forearms. He stands just below a street light, spot-lighted, as if on a stage.

“Leave me alone!” he yells out to you across the road, voice breaking halfway. This does nothing to dampen his demeanor - this tough front, this anger he suddenly carries. You still in the grass beside the road, looking at him pleadingly. He can’t hold your gaze.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Jihoon,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “But I can just.. Support you. You don’t have to be alone right now.”

This almost seems to piss him off more, clenching his jaw, sharply defined by the harsh shadows, and steering his head away from you, like a sunflower following the sun in the sky. It hurts your heart. The way he almost seems angry with you. And yet again you’re made to feel pathetic for following him out here. Like you’re on your knees and he’s standing there in front of you, spitting on you. Why does it hurt so much? You almost wish you’d stayed with Wonwoo - that you’d followed him to his room and let him fuck you and pretended you weren’t thinking about him the entire time.

“Shouldn’t you go back inside?” he’s prickling with hostility. “You seemed like you were having a good time.”

“Jihoon,” you say breathlessly. “None of us is having a good time if you’re not.”

Whatever cog you unturned, whatever screw you unscrewed, Jihoon’s tightly wound posture unwinds, and he softens and withers before you, one hand clamping over his eyes. You take this as a sign to move towards him, heels clicking on the asphalt warning him of your advance. It’s deadly quiet, save for the heartbeat of the frat house behind you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally lowering his hand and looking at you. You smile sympathetically, relief flooding you, when he lets you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

The two of you begin to walk in silence, and you recognize it as the path that leads back to the dormitory. It’s calm, steps becoming rhythmic and breeze easing your muscles with its cool touch. You study his face as it’s lit and unlit by the systemic presence of street lights. You’re able to put your own feelings aside for him, to be a martyr, and to sacrifice yourself to comfort him. It feels like cutting your own throat to talk to him about another woman, a woman he loves, truly, but you know it must be done.

“So,” you muster finally. “What happened in there?”

He scoffs bitterly, looking at the pavement underneath his shoes. You frown. “Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” you repeat, a little confused.

“I didn’t tell her.”

“Oh.”

You’re honestly not the best comforter, you realize, cringing and hoping you’re not making it worse by talking to him about it. You see the faint outline of the dormitory at the end of the street.

“Why not?” you quip quietly. His mouth makes a tight line. He breathes out shakily, and you fear you’re riling him up again by asking further.

“She was talking to some other guy,” Jihoon says, eyes flitting to yours before immediately ducking back to the pavement. You furrow your brows. Could it be you? That thought nurtures the spring garden in your stomach, the one you’d been trying to kill. But the insecurity that had come with it, and with him, only manages to squander that light.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say softly, hand finding his arm, but he pulls it away from you immediately. Ouch.

“Yeah,” he chuckles without humor.

Finally, you decide to just shut up, to stop pushing him when he’s so vulnerable, but this time it’s Jihoon who doesn’t stop speaking. “You know,” he begins and again he’s laughing, but you can tell it’s only a cheap plaster for the pain in his voice, “I’d memorized that- that confession thing Seulgi made. And I followed all the- the style advice and the-” his voice breaks and he hisses at how pathetic it sounds. “Everything. I did everything,” he summarizes finally and when you look you see orbs of tears forming at his waterline, like the dew drops that sparkle on leaves in spring.

You don’t know what to say. It’s almost too hard to see him like this. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but Jihoon shakes his head.

“Stop saying that,” his voice is harsher, groggier, thick and stained by the sobs in his throat. You pause your steps. You’re standing in the yard outside the dormitory now. Hundreds of windows become an audience to where you now stand before each other.

“Why?” you ask.

“Because-” he wipes the tears away aggressively, composing himself before he finally, finally looks at you. “Because you’re gonna make me think that you actually care.” His voice is suddenly laced with venom again. The hostility that you’d tamed returns and it’s so much stronger, more bitter. You’re taken aback.

“I-I do care? Why do you think I don’t care-”

“Oh, please, Y/n. You didn’t want me at your girls’ nights or at spa day or fucking whatever. You didn’t- You don’t care about my book or my crush or my-”

“I do care!” you interrupt, voice stern and much louder. “What, you think I follow you out of parties for fun? Because I don’t care about you? And yeah, maybe I didn’t want you at the girls’ nights, but what does that matter-”

“It matters because!–” he stops himself in his tracks, hand coming out to halt you. “Fuck it, wait here,” he orders, and suddenly he is trudging into the darkness of the courtyard. You stand still, flabbergasted, and thoroughly confused. It’s so dark you can’t even see what he’s doing, only hear him in the dirt, silhouette blending into the shadows. Then, he’s walking back to you and you finally see him.

There are flowers in his hands.

It’s a makeshift bouquet, held tightly in between his veiny, pale hands, consisting of flowers that grow in the courtyard, red, yellow and lilac. It’s a slow-burning realization as he stands himself before you, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that is laced with pain. You know this part of the girl code.

“Hi, Y/n, how are you?” he breathes, and his voice is shaking and he’s looking at you and practically begging you to play along - to indulge him, even if you would turn your back on him. You can hardly register anything but him and those flowers, because your surroundings, the moon, the stars, the shadows and the streets are overpowered by the blooming in your chest. A single flower unfurls the pedals of your heart until you are open before him. You meet his eyes.

“I’m good.”

He nods.

“I’ve always thought you were very beautiful,” it almost seems like it physically pains him to admit these breathless feelings. “Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date,” another pained, gulping pause. “Would that be okay with you?”

It’s as if time has stopped in this moment; how his chest rises and falls under his shirt, how his hair gently nuzzles his face, how his eyes blear out at you from underneath his bangs, how he glows in the moonlight, and how his hands shake around the stems of the flowers.

“Was I..” his voice is hoarse, “Was I suave about it?”

“Yes,” is all you can manage, because all those flowers that you had stomped into a half-death were coming alive again and this time it was more than welcome.

“Yes?”

“Yes, you can take me on a date,” you break into a wide smile and, upon realizing you probably look like an idiot, you lower your gaze and your warm, shining cheeks to the pavement. He gasps, and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“But- you and Wonwoo-?”

“Do you wanna know why I was even talking to Wonwoo?” you ask, and when you meet his eyes again, he’s also smiling. You can’t help but reach out a hand to wrap around one of his, still frozen in holding the flowers. He quickly maneuvers the bouquet to the other hand and intertwines your fingers. Your heart soars. “Mingyu found out that I was sad because you had a crush on someone - I didn’t think it was me, you know? So he promised to wingman me at this party.”

“Son of a bitch,” Jihoon whispers, and you laugh, feeling so floaty and lovely. “Don’t call him that,” you say, but Jihoon only smiles cheekily, eyes matching the crescent moon in the sky above you.

“No, I meant me,” he says. He looks down at the flowers and frowns. “Is that why you were so quiet? On girls night?”

You nod and he sighs. “I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. You’re so sweet,” you say genuinely, and Jihoon nearly melts at how much you mean it. There’s something so wonderful about the way all the words, that he would never use to describe himself, float around your head and sparkle in your eyes in this moment, looking up at him.

Jihoon needs to kiss you. He’s not sure he’s ever needed anything as badly. He rips his free hand from yours only to place it tenderly against your cheek, pulling your face and your warmth into him, bouquet held out at his side to allow you snugly in his chest.

His lips are so soft and his nose nuzzles your own, plush hair tickling your forehead, and his huffed out breaths dance along your cheeks. Your lips mod perfectly, unlocking the shackles with which that earth-shattering yearning had held onto you. The world is anguish but will momentarily and suddenly be interrupted, cleaved apart with a sudden gash, by a planet-killer: love.

You truly don’t mean to make it heated, hell, you’d be content just kissing him forever, feeling how his tongue prods at your lips and meets your own, but his sculpted chest under your fingers draws out a pathetic moan. His eyebrows spring up and he pulls back to look at you. You blush under his gaze, fiddling with your dress.

“Holy fuck, that was so fucking hot,” he gasps, lips swollen from your insistent sucking on them, panting into the night air. You brighten at his compliment. “Inside. Now. To my room.”

“You know, girl code says to not have sex before on the third date,” you say smugly, unprepared when his free hand pushes you back into his chest, and his lips drag over half of your face, finding home at your ear. His voice is a growl: “Fuck. Girl code.”

He begins a somewhat dramatic march to the front door and you can’t help but run after him, taking his hand, and seeing how he smiles at that feeling. He looks so happy. Your heart skips a beat, because it’s you - you’re the one making him so happy.

And he’s so hot, it’s all you can think about as he drags you along the corridors, how nice his arms look in the sleeves denim, how pretty his hair is, his fucking face, and the chest you just barely felt under your fingertips. You’re watching doors pass in a monotonous routine, jittery and unable to wait for the one that might be his, for him to take you through it, and for you to bloom, totally and perfectly under him.

“Fucking finally,” he breathes, voice gruff and much lower than you’re used to when he stops at his door, fishing for his keys in his pocket. It enters the lock and with a click, everything you fantasized about is opening to you.

As soon as you’re inside, he’s kicking the door shut and pushing you against the wall, nails gripping into your dress, when he finally drops the makeshift bouquet on his nightstand. He cries out into your mouth at the way your chest bounces from the impact, immediately capturing your lips in his again.

You can’t help the way you’re tugging at his hair, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of him, when he shoves a thigh between your legs. You moan into his mouth, rutting into him, while his wandering hands pull your skirt up you to pool around your waist. He pulls back to look at you, how your hips cant into his strong, big thigh, and how your pink, lacey panties cling to your wet pussy.

“Off,” he mumbles, apparently having decided that the simple tugging of the fabric of your dress won’t be enough. You turn around in a daze, not even uttering a word, simply shoving the zipper at the back of it.

Jihoon groans, he has to, seeing the way you stick out your ass to him, while your hand lay flat on the wall. You shake your hips teasingly at him, and his hands float to your ass, petting it and squeezing it in his fingers, and biting his lips because it looks so fucking good and plump, and there’s a wet spot in your panties. He grabs your hips and rubs his dick into you. You gasp at the feeling, nails scratching against the wall.

“You make me so hard, baby,” he says breathlessly, unable to help himself humping against you, pre-cum spilling from his tip. “Shit,” he grunts, and you’re squeezing your eyes closed at the outline of his dick pressing into your pussy.

Finally Jihoon collects himself and his cold hands drag the zipper down. The top of your dress loosens and slides down your shoulders, where Jihoon aids you in slipping it off. His hands spin you around, finally taking a breath to marvel your bare chest in front of him.

You blush, suddenly so bashful, when just before you were wiggling your ass at him. You curl your arms over your chest, but Jihoon’s own come to stop them. “No, no, no, no,” he tuts, almost sad, “why are you doing that?”

You don’t answer immediately, but apparently it’s not a rhetorical question. His hands intertwine with yours to prevent you from covering yourself up. “Uh, I don’t know,” you stammer sheepishly, “I don’t wanna, like, kill the mood or any-”

“You’re not killing the mood, pretty,” Jihoon whispers so, so achingly sincere and your heart hurts.

“Sorry, it was just-”

“Don’t say sorry,” he lectures, interrupting again. He tilts his head and he looks at you with a flaming intensity. “Try again.”

You pause, flustered out of your mind.

“I-I’ve just been feeling a little insecure lately, I guess,” you say and you’re positive your face is beet-red, but if it is Jihoon says nothing, only pouts and releases one hand only to direct your eyes back to his with a hand on your chin.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he says and even when you seek it out, you can’t find even the slightest hint of lying in his voice. “I want to show you, but I can’t do that if you cover up. Understand?”

You nod, lips breaking into a little smile, that his heart becomes hot like the spring-sunshine. “Okay,” you say and he smiles brightly, releasing your chin from between his fingers.

He guides you onto the bed, but it’s no longer heated and rushed, it’s so soft and gentle, and he pulls off your underwear only after you whisper in agreement, and then he lowers himself into it, again, only allowing himself the pleasure when you whisper a strained yes and nod vigorously.

He fully makes out with your pussy - his lips are wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking it, and fucking moaning into it, sending vibration straight to the coil in your stomach. You’re moaning so loud, broken cries bouncing off the walls, while your finger wrap into his hair and your legs thrash. His tongue flattens against your folds, then dips down to trail around your slit.

“Jihoon!” you cry, hips bucking into his mouth. He groans again, releasing your pussy with a soft pop. “Fuck, baby, keep saying my name like that.” And then his face disappears in your pussy again.

And you do, everytime his nips and gums on your sensitive folds, tongue trailing back up to your nub to fully envelop it. He sucks, hard. And you think you might cum the second you look at him, because the image of his full head of hair buried in between your legs and lapping like a starved man is so pornographic, your head spins.

He might go insane from just the taste of you, he realizes, because even when you cry that you’re cumming, and your legs shake around his head and your pussy is soaked with your cum, he can’t bring himself to pull away, strong arms wrapping around stomach to still you as you begin to wiggle from the feeling of his tongue just continuing to lap at you.

“Jihoon! Fuck, t-too much,” you whimper and the sound shoots straight to his cock. He finally pulls away, eyes still trained on your pretty cunt, and the way it clenches around nothing. “Clenching so hard, sweetheart, only for there to be nothing, shouldn’t we fix that?” he hums, leaning down to trail his finger through your folds, gathering your wetness on its tip.

You whimper uncertainly, when he crawls back over your body, hair tickling your face when hovers just above you and he shushes your pathetic squeaks. He pushes the wet finger into your mouth and you suck obediently. “Shh, baby, just taste yourself on my finger, how can you be insecure with a pussy like that, hm?”

You cry around his single digit, tongue sliding over it eagerly. He wants to fuck your face, the way your pretty, plump lips wrap around his finger, but he’ll save that for another time. “Shh, baby, I know. You’ll be stuffed full of cock soon, don’t worry,” he rasps soothingly, and slips his drenched finger from your mouth.

Finally, he rips the denim jacket off, white tee following soon after, and you’re left, mouth gaping, at the how toned his stomach is, how big his pecs are and how fucking thick his arms are at his side.

“You’re so fucking hoot, Hoonie,” you drawl, making grabby hands to urge him back to you. He smiles at those words, even gains a small dusting of pink on his cheeks, but he shakes his head. “Gotta get my pants off, baby.”

“Hurry up,” you grin playfully, and he scoffs at you from where he stands, pants and boxers coming off in one fell swoop. “So needy,” he mumbles to himself, but you can tell by the overjoyed expression on his face, that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

His cock is finally freed, and your eyes float to it, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so pretty and so red, and a single vein creeps up its curved surface towards the oozing head. You gulp, eyes sparkling.

“Wan’ it in my mouth,” you mumble, where you’re now half sitting up and glowing from your first orgasm. Jihoon looks at you and laughs, as he climbs on top of you again.

His face hovers over yours, finger carding through your hair tenderly. He looks in your eyes. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He coos at you, eyes flickering to your lips for a moment, and you feel his cock twitch where it rests heavily on your stomach. “Not right now, pretty, I wanna fuck you.”

“You don’t have to cum-” you reason, mouth practically watering at the thought of having him in your mouth. He stops you though, hand still brushing through your hair, so delicately, as if you were a lily, or a rose, or a tulip.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you look at me like that with my fucking cock in your mouth,” he whispers, and it’s so intimate, despite being so vulgar. How warm you both are, naked and holding onto each other and his dick is oozing onto your stomach and your pussy is leaking onto his sheets. “Like that,” Jihoon emphasizes, when you look up at him adoringly. You smile.

“Okay,” you say, a determined look on your face, “later then.”

He laughs. “Eager baby. Relax, you’re gonna get a pussy full of cock now, your mouth can wait.”

You wanna retort, say something snarky, anything, but you’re abruptly interrupted by the feeling of his cock pushing into you. You moan and your nails claw at his back, because it’s so big and so raw in your pussy, you feel that fucking vein dragging against your walls. “Shit, Hoonie. Fuck, fuck.”

He’s groaning too, hands on your waist and face in your neck. “So fucking tight, so pretty.”

You’re both panting when his cock is fully nestled inside you, sitting snug against your walls. You look up at him and he’s pretty, all flushed and lips swollen, and the sight makes you clench. He hisses, jerking abruptly, making the both of you moan.

“Fuck, baby, can’t just clench on me like tha-”

“Please, please, just fuck me now, can’t wait anymore!” you cry, clawing at him, nails raking over his flexed biceps, where he holds onto you. And he can’t help but fulfill your wish.

You honestly don’t know where he gets his stamina, because the second you’re done asking, he’s ramming into you so hard and so fast, your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a long whine. The whole bed is shaking from the impact, as his hips sheath and unsheath from your warm, welcoming pussy.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he drawls, hands trailing up from your waist to your bouncing chest, thumbing over your nipples. “Bet Wonwoo wishes he got to see you like this, hm?”

The way your pussy has his cock in a chokehold, the way you’re lying beneath, it has him fully dazed, and now he babbles all that comes to mind. “Yeah, but you’re mine, princess. No one else gets to see you like this, no one else can have you crying like this for their cock, right?”

“N-No one else,” you whimper, sopping cunt clenching and unclenching around his dick. “That’s right,” he pants, humid breath on your cheek, “Say you’re mine, pretty girl, say you’re fucking mine.”

“A-ah, ‘m yours, Hoonie,” you cry and he thinks he might cum just like that, at your blissed face, glowing beneath him, and your pussy sucking him in, and you obeying him thoughtlessly.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he rewards you by dragging his hand down your stomach to rub your clit. Your whole body convulses into his, hands dragging over his big arms for support. “Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock now.”

And you do, the tension in your stomach tightening beyond what you can take, before it finally unfurls, and it blooms, and it’s spring, and your squirting all over Jihoon’s abs, because God, he’s so fucking hot and he fucks you silly with his dumb, big muscles and his dumb, cute face.

The sight of your squirting, thrashing and shaking underneath him is all he needs. Jihoon shoots you full of his cum, making you feel so full and wet, before he finally halts his rutting hips, stilling on top of you.

You’re both panting. You’re sweating so much, your hair sticks to your forehead, and you’re gasping for air. Jihoon is still on top of you, holding himself up somehow, and licking at your neck appreciatively.

There’s a pause, where you’re basking in each other's warmth, and there’s so much love between you it’s almost suffocating. Then you're narrowing your eyes at the head of hair in your neck, growing suspicious.

“... Are you still hard?”

He laughs into your neck, peering up at you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you still open to that dick-sucking thing?” _____________________________

“So,” Yeri trails off.

You’re sitting in front of her, Seulgi and Irene at the campus cafe after a thorough round of congratulating you and Jihoon’s new relationship. They’d been both surprised and somehow not-at-all-surprised.

“He can’t come to girls night anymore,” Irene states the obvious, and immediately you, Seulgi and Yeri are nodding along.

“Thank God, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.”

“It just wouldn’t work,” you supply, agreeing.

There’s a pause. Seulgi pouts. “I can’t believe we don’t have a son anymore. They grow up so fast,” she says and she sounds genuinely sad about it.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to play this card. Then you say: “I know someone who would like to be our son.”

“Oh, no..”

“Don’t say..”

“Yep,” you shrug, and then you hear him. Lumbering clumsily down the hall, like a galloping horse.

“I HEAR THERE’S A NEW POSITION OPEN DURING GIRLS NIGHTS!!!!! I MADE MUFFINS!!”

Mingu is running through the cafe, dodging stools and chairs like he’s on Ninja Warrior.

Irene frowns. “I guess he’ll do as our new son.”

“We can always kick him out if he gets too annoying,” Yeri shrugs, just in time for Mingyu to stand before your table with a fresh tray of muffins.

“Yes!” he cries with glee, voice incredibly high because he just can’t believe it.

“Begging always works!”

#svt smut #svt x reader #woozi smut #woozi angst #woozi fluff #woozi x reader #svt woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #jihoon x reader #jihoon smut #svt angst

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itsbeeble · 4 months

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Gorgeous

SUMMARY: Minghao was the black sheep, though you'd never understood why. Maybe it's time you figure it out.

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst (MAJOR ANGST)

PAIRING: Xu Minghao x afab!reader

WC: 5.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: this is actually really dark, infidelity, rich people core, p in v sex, exhibitionism (yn gets fingered in the back of her car while on the phone), minghao is possessive, stalker themes, criminal, mentions of blood, reader gets injured, a lot goes on actually i've never written something like this el oh el

A/N: this was NOT supposed to end up like it did, but I decided on a whim to do this. Thank you to @sungbeam and @mosviqu for beta reading this (even if some of it was very last minute). I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I did teehee

“Who is that?” You tilt your head, eyes trained in the direction of someone you’d never seen before at these functions. Your friend, Jang Gyuri, follows your eyes and kisses her teeth.

“Xu Minghao,” she brings her lips close to your ear so only you can hear her. No need for prying eyes and ears to hear what she has to say and spread unwanted rumors. “I’d stay away from him if I were you.”

“Why?”

Many people would have described you as innocent. You came from “new money” as they would call it. Your father practically struck gold when he decided in his early thirties to start a business. The company grew quickly, the products being released becoming popular all over South Korea and, eventually, internationally. You knew that you should pay more attention to his work, as you’d likely inherit it one day, but you can’t find it in you to care. With this recent rise to power, you’d been taking advantage of your seemingly neverending access to parties of all kinds. Galas, clubs, birthday parties for the spoiled brats that had been born into this life. You were a free spirit, never one to avoid cameras, and that made you dangerous in the eyes of many in this country. Gyuri told you that, though old money was never afraid of new money, new money had the power of intimidation.

She’d told you many names as examples: Wen Junhui, Choi Yeonjun, Lee Chan, Han Jisung, Bae Joohyun, Kang Seulgi, Chwe Hansol. Though their families weren’t necessarily liked, they held status among the wealthy children for varying reasons— proving their worth being the main reason, intimidation being another.

Xu Minghao, however, was never a name you had heard in these recent months. Maybe there was a reason for that, you note when your eyes meet his lidded ones and he flashes you a lazy smirk. Your cheeks heat up, and you turn your gaze back to Gyuri. She’s giving you a dirty look, her painted red lips pursed and her eyebrows knit together.

“He’s bad news, Y/N,” she warns. “Seungcheol will tell you about it, and he’d want you to be careful around him.”

“Seungcheol,” your voice is laced with venom, “is in the bathroom with Seo Yookyung. I don’t think he cares what I do, so long as I don’t ruin his reputation.”

“That’s not exactly what I would call a healthy relationship.”

Both you and Gyuri flinch, startled by the interruption, and turn to scold whoever jumped into a private conversation.

You fall short, however, your mouth partially hanging open with shock and, honestly, awe.

From afar, you could tell that he was attractive but now that he’s up close? You feel like you could sink and drown in him. Long dark hair, thin and pointed face, scrutinizing eyes. He was intimidating to most, this you could tell. But to you?

He was the most gorgeous person you had ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on.

“Xu Minghao,” Gyuri’s tone is cold and she shuffles to stand just slightly in front of you, something both you and Minghao notice.

“Jang Gyuri,” Minghao mocks, sticking one of his hands into a pocket in his slacks.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you know by now that you aren’t welcome?” Her words are sharp, and it almost scares you. Gyuri, despite her reputation for being cruel, had always been kind to you. She’d been a sort of mentor to you, teaching you the rights and wrongs in terms of “rich behavior”. She taught you the right people to associate with, and the wrong people to associate with. However, she had never once raised her voice or made you feel unwelcome. Quite unlike how she talks to Minghao.

“I go wherever I please, Jang Gyuri.” Minghao sighs, a puff of air that makes a few loose strands of hair flutter out of his face. Then his eyes return to you, scanning your body but not in a seductive manner. No, he’s curious. You can see it in his eyes, behind the cold front he puts up. “And…who might you be?”

“None of your business—”

“L/N Y/N—”

You and Gyuri speak at the same time, and you shut your mouth quickly when she shoots you another nasty look. Minghao, however, is amused. One side of his mouth quirks up in a mild show of this, the corners of his lips picking up.

“So, which is it?” He inquires. “None of your business or Y/N L/N? I’m not a betting man, but I’d wager that it’s the latter.”

You poorly stifle a laugh, covering it with a cough.

“What do you want?” Gyuri hisses out, tapping a heel on the marble floor impatiently. Minghao presses his lips together, loosely shrugging his shoulders.

“Just wanted to see if I could buy your lovely friend here a drink.”

“She’s taken.”

“She,” you finally interrupt Gyuri and place a hand on her collarbone to gently push her back. “Can speak for herself. And she will need a few more drinks to make it through the night.”

Gyuri sputters out an argument, trying to get you to stop, but Minghao grins down at you and offers his arm. You gladly take it, giving Gyuri one more warning look before you’re tugged away through the crowd.

“You’re new money.” Minghao leans against the counter next to you while you sit on one of the few open stools left. There’s a martini in front of you, one that’s barely been touched since you received it a few minutes ago.

“Is it that obvious?” You tilt your head and Minghao smiles, his head dipping down a bit.

“Not entirely,” he looks back up and shifts his weight. “Only if you know what to look for.”

“And what, exactly,” you lean toward him, resting your chin on the back of your hand, “are you looking for?”

His tongue runs over his lip, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

“You’re interesting, Y/N L/N.” Evading the question.

“Oh?” You finally bring your martini glass to your lips, taking a small sip of the alcoholic beverage. “Why is that, Xu Minghao?”

“You don’t…you don’t know who I am, do you?” Your lips quirk into a small smile.

“No, I don’t. Is it something important?”

For the first time since you’d begun talking to him, he falls quiet in a way that shows discomfort. Your smile drops, and you lean back on your stool.

“Minghao,” you start. “Is there something I should know?”

You see a muscle in his jaw feather, see his eyes dance around you to see who was around. One of your hands falls to your lap, playing with the expensive fabric of your dress. Now he’s avoiding your questions.

“I’m…” he huffs out a breath, tilting his head back and scoffing out a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to someone I just met, but…there’s something about you that I just can’t place.”

“I’ve been told that by many people.” Minghao shifts closer to you, his arm resting on the back of your chair.

“What else have they told you?”

“That I can be a bit…straightforward.” His other hand is on the counter, and your fingers dance just a bit closer to his, the tips brushing together slightly. “That when I get nervous, I either talk too much or not at all.”

“And…?” He leans his head down a bit.

“That you’re bad,” your voice lowers, your lips curling into a smirk. “That I should stay away from you.”

“And I take it you don’t listen to these people, do you?” Minghao asks, his voice dropping an octave. There’s tension around you, something so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Not at all.”

“What would they do if I asked you to leave with me?” His fingers finally lace with yours and you hum, pretending to think.

“Seungcheol might not like that very much.”

Minghao scoffs. “You know damn well that he left a long time ago.”

“But still…” you sigh and shake your head. “Someone has to be loyal.”

A nod from the man in front of you, and a sly smile.

“I understand, and I won’t make you do anything.” He squeezes your hand once, and you feel him slide a piece of paper into your palm. He waits for your fingers to close around the paper before he pulls his hand away. “You’ll know where to find me when you change your mind and drop him. And, when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

When he leaves the building, you feel like you can finally breathe. Your shoulders relax, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You’re in the middle of trying to get your body under control when Gyuri stomps back over to you.

“What the hell were you thinking, talking to a man like him?” Her nails dig into your upper arm, scraping into your skin and causing you to suck in a sharp breath. “Are you stupid?”

“I don’t see what your problem is,” you sigh and finish off your martini before sliding off your barstool. Your feet are aching at this point, and you’re just itching to get out of this dress. “He isn’t as bad as you think he is.”

“Xu Minghao isn’t the man he’s seemed to convince you he is.” Gyuri warns you. “He’s a liar, just like his father is. He’ll hurt you, Y/N, and don’t come crying to me when he does. I’ll just tell you that I warned you and tried to stop you. I won’t help you if you get yourself tangled up with him.”

“It’s a good thing I won’t need your help then, isn’t it?” You retort, tearing your arm out of her grip and straightening your posture. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Gyuri, and I won’t let you or Seungcheol stop me anymore.”

“Gyuri tells me you’ve been talking to Xu Minghao.” Seungcheol looks at you in the mirror as he tightens the tie around his throat. You’re in the middle of sliding on another pair of uncomfortable shoes that will have your toes bleeding by the end of the night, and raise your gaze to look at him.

“I have. Only once, though.” Your eyes return to the ground to grab the second heel. For two weeks you had been talking to this…mystery man. You’d learned more about him every day, of his father’s scandals that would have left his family bankrupt had Minghao not come out and saved the company. You found it admirable but most chose to despise him, refusing partnerships and refusing to admit the good he’s done for his company and family as someone so young.

And, of course, you had only done this with a little bit of research and a quick phone call to the number he slipped into your hand. You’re sure Seungcheol knows this, knows that you’re too curious for your own good. This is something the two of you had argued about far too many times to count, and he’s since given up on trying to stop you.

“I’m sure that you’re aware of everything, then?”

“Aware of Minghao’s father or of your infidelity?” You rise to your feet, and Seungcheol freezes for just a moment before carrying on.

“Ah.”

“If you’re going to whore yourself out,” Your hand brushes against your boyfriend’s shoulder and you spin him around so you can tie the fabric around his neck. “At least do it where no one will see you.” Your lips are drawn into a tight smile and you rest your hand on his chest. “At least do it where no one will see you, my love.”

“I take it…” Seungcheol watches you walk away and listens to the clicking of your heels on the ground. “...that the engagement is off, then?”

“Correct.”

“What will you do?” You turn to look at the man you once tolerated, now finding him disgusting.

“I think that I’ll be just fine. I have an apartment, I have a family that loves me, and a thriving company that I need to learn to lead. You, however, should worry about your status once news of your actions hits the papers come Monday.”

Seungcheol nods slowly, his tongue digging into his cheek.

“I have a ride to the gala,” you make your way for the bedroom door, lips drawn into a thin line. “I will have someone collect my things tomorrow morning, so make sure everything is exactly as it is now because they will have a list and I will come for everything you have if your toy for the night has the gall to take my belongings again.”

Seungcheol looks at you for a long moment, watching you leave the room before choosing to follow you.

“And what of the deal your father made with my company?”

“Find someone else,” you shrug. “My father just wanted to make connections and you happened to give him the perfect opportunity to benefit both companies.”

“I could tell people, you know.” Seungcheol places his hand on the front door, stopping you from leaving. You turn to face him, your eyes narrowed. He doesn’t appear angry, yet he isn’t looking too pleased either. “That you had an affair. They would believe me. They would never believe someone like you.”

An easy smile passes over your lips, and you place a hand on his chest. “I don’t need them to believe me. Gyuri, on the other hand…” you kiss your teeth. “She can be quite the devil, no?”

“Gyuri trusts him?” Seungcheol asks and you can practically taste the disbelief.

“No, she doesn’t,” your lips draw into a thin line. “She does, however, trust me.”

A silent type of anger radiates off Seungcheol as you turn away from him again. This time, when the door shuts, he doesn’t follow you. You’re glad he doesn’t. It makes it much easier to steady your breathing and the shaking in your hands.

You arrive at the party alone this time. There is no Gyuri and no Seungcheol to protect you from the cameras, from the invasive questions, and the microphones shoved into your face. It startles you and before you can get one foot out of the door, your body freezes up. One of the guards your father hired yells something, and then there’s someone sliding into your car and pushing you back.

“Take a breath,” a soft, silky voice pushes through the yells outside the car. A hand cradles the back of your head, tangling in your long strands of hair, pulling you closer and tucking you into the crook of his neck. “Just breathe, love.”

Maybe it's the adrenaline, maybe it’s the freedom you now know you have, but suddenly you’re laughing and pulling away from Minghao. He looks just as stunning as the last time you saw him. Dark hair, narrowed eyes, lips drawn into a thin line. He’s wearing a suit similar to last time— all black, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone.

“Are you alright?” His hand comes to your cheek, letting you nestle into his gentle hold. “Talk to me, love. Are you alright?”

But you just keep laughing, and then you’re clutching at his collar and yanking him toward you for a furious kiss. He freezes against you, one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist. It takes him a moment to reciprocate, to get over the initial shock and sink into you. His lips move softly against yours, forcing you to calm down and actually breathe like he’d requested.

After a few moments, you pull away and lean your forehead against his.

“So that’s what this is about?” Minghao murmurs. “You just wanted my attention, is that it?”

“Not necessarily,” you pull away from him, but he doesn’t let you go very far. His hand is just around the curve of your waist, holding you near to him. “I have other reasons.”

“And what would they be?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach like a teenager in love.

“I like you, Xu Minghao.” God, you sound like one as well. “Very much.”

“I like you too, Y/N L/N.” Another kiss, this time tilting your head to reach the corner of your jaw. The car starts moving again, and Minghao calls out an address. His address, you assume.

“You’re gorgeous, Minghao,” He laughs against your skin, trailing his lips down your neck slowly. “It makes it hard, you know.”

“Makes what hard, my flower.”

“To focus. To talk to you. You make me so nervous, it’s infuriating.” Your breath hitches as he sucks gently at the skin above a vein. Your hand curls around his neck, tangling in his long strands of hair.

Minghao doesn’t respond, but you don’t mind. Not when he drags you into his lap, the fabric around your body now splayed across the backseat of your car. You can hear your phone ringing, but you ignore it until the sound disappears. You focus on Minghao, focus on the feel of his lips on your skin and his hands all over your body. You focus on swiping your tongue over his lip, on pressing forward until his back is digging into the door, the armrest uncomfortable against his spine but neither of you cares.

Your phone rings again and, this time, Minghao pulls away from you, tilting your chin up and handing you the slim device.

“It’s your father, I think.” His lips press against your jaw, and you exhale shakily. “Shouldn’t worry him too much.”

“Minghao—”

“Answer him.” His hand replaces his lips, giving your jaw a slight squeeze. “Or I will.”

The third ring comes, and you swallow hard. Minghao smiles, his lips curling up as he takes the phone from your hand and swipes on the green button.

“Y/N.” Your father’s voice is steady, and you can hear the exasperation. “What is this I’m hearing from Choi Seungcheol that the engagement is off?”

Minghao’s lips touch your neck again, his fingers sliding under the fabric of your gown to trace up your thigh. It takes all the power in your body to not gasp into the microphone, your eyes fluttering as he touches you.

“He— what did he say?” You briefly stumble over your words, trying desperately to keep a firm grip on your phone and nearly failing when Minghao’s hand dips past your lacy underwear. Two fingers prod at your core and your breath hitches. Your free hand drops down and grips Minghao’s wrist tightly. He shoots you a playful smirk, lips puffy from kissing you and from sucking at your neck. You let him go.

“That you’ve left him. That you had an affair with…” you hear shuffling on the other end of the line, and then a loud sigh. “Xu Minghao?”

“That would be a lie, father.” You inform the older man, and Minghao’s fingers sink deep into you. It’s a wonder you haven’t moaned into your phone yet but with the way his skillful hand pumps in and out of you, soon you very well might. His thumb pushes at your clit, and you let your head drop into his neck, begging silently for him to have mercy on your poor mind and body.

“Is that so?”

“Seungcheol had an affair. Well, several affairs. Minghao simply helped me realize that I wouldn’t—” Your voice cracks as a little whimper almost makes its way out of your mouth. Minghao leans his head against yours and you can feel his cheeks stretching into a smile as he continues to drag his fingers in and out of your sopping-wet walls. He scissors them a bit, and then you feel a third sink into you. Your legs begin to shake and try to close, and with his free hand Minghao grabs onto one of your thighs to hold them open. “—wouldn’t be happy if I stayed with him.”

You hope that the shaking in your voice can pass as upset tears.

“I don’t— It doesn’t matter if you end up happy. I want what’s best for you and the business. Marrying Seungcheol would have balanced this.”

“Marrying Seungcheol would lead to a miserable life and the downfall of two companies.” You snap back, and you hear Minghao beginning to whisper praises into your ear. With red cheeks and a swelling heart, your hips begin to roll down on his fingers. “Minghao, at least, will keep me happy and will benefit both companies in many ways.”

Silence on your father’s end, and a knot begins to form in your stomach.

“Don’t cum yet, flower.” Minghao murmurs, licking at the skin under your ear. “Wait until he hangs up.”

I can’t. You want to scream. Every curl of his fingers, every brush of his thumb against your clit. It’s all becoming too much for you. It’s incredible you’re able to keep yourself together while on the phone.

“Is this what you really want?” Your father asks, and your whole body shudders against Minghao.

“It— it is.” You gasp. Another pregnant pause. Fuck, it’s like your father wants you to suffer.

“Have him come by my office tomorrow for lunch. We’ll all talk then.”

You don’t get the chance to respond before he’s hanging up the phone and the car is rolling to a stop. Minghao rips his fingers out of you, effectively ruining the high you’d been approaching.

“You’re— you’re horrible.” You whine, watching as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean.

“You love it, though.” He grins and slides you off his lap so he can get the door. Your body feels like jelly, your mind in a haze. You hardly notice Minghao tugging you by the hand, guiding you out of the car and to the front door of a beautiful house— so beautiful that it nearly takes your breath away.

Minghao’s arm is placed delicately on the small of your back, and you let him guide you into the house and up a grand marble staircase. You can’t begin to express the awe you feel. You can’t help the giddy feeling in your bones when you reach the top of the staircase and Minghao takes your hand. It appears, however, that he is feeling just about the same as you when he smiles so wide that you fear his lips would become stuck like that, and he drags you quickly toward a bedroom.

You let him press you down on the bed and let him kiss his way from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, and begin to peel the straps of your gown down your body so he can expose more and more skin. You feel like you’re burning up, feel like your body is being set ablaze wherever he touches your body. The zipper along the side of the dress is tugged town, and you raise your hips so Minghao can peel it down the rest of the way and throw the fabric somewhere across the room.

“I should be mad at you for that,” you say to him, although you relish in the feeling of his lips trailing down the valley of your breasts. “That dress was a very expensive gift.”

“Oh?” Minghao’s voice is muffled, and he tugs your panties down your legs as he speaks. “From who?”

You watch as he begins to rid himself of his clothing, watch as he reveals every gorgeous inch of his skin to you.

“Seungcheol.” His gaze hardens when he sees you smirk.

“Then I should burn it, I think. Replace it with something newer, prettier, pricier.” He hovers his body over yours, lacing the fingers of one hand through your own and using his free hand to align himself with you. A pleased sigh is emitted from your lips as he sinks in, back arching as he begins to stretch you out.

“Is that so?” You breathe out. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer until you can kiss him.

“Mmm.” Minghao hums against you, beginning to roll his hips slowly into yours. “I should burn everything that he has ever given you, I think.”

You can barely respond, your voice seemingly broken and replaced by gasps for air as he begins to thrust into you harder and faster and you can’t seem to get control of your body. He doesn’t care, though. He doesn’t care that you can only roll your hips into his, can only bite into his skin, and leave dark marks that he won’t be able to hide (not that he would want to). Knowing that you’re enjoying this, fucked too dumb to speak even though he’d only been inside of you for barely a few minutes, it’s all enough for him. It’s more than enough.

“What would he say if he saw us like this?” Minghao continues, his hands sliding down your legs and gently pushing them farther apart. “Hm? Would he stop me? Would he try to fight for you?”

You try to tell him he wouldn’t, but all that comes out of you is helpless babbles.

“I would,” he hisses, and the knot in your stomach returns. It builds and builds, growing tighter and tighter with each passing moment. “He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve to touch you, to feel you.”

“And—” you finally manage to choke out a few words. “And what— what m-makes you—oh god, Minghao please— think that— that you do?”

“You already know why, my flower.” Minghao’s hips are slapping against yours at a pace— at a furosity— that you can’t keep up with, “Do you really need me to spell it out for you?”

The knot in your stomach snaps, your walls fluttering around him but he’s relentless. He pounds into you as your body convulses underneath him, your pathetic whines and moans turning into desperate wails.

“I’m better than him in every way,” Minghao grits out, desperately fighting off his own orgasm. “Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you? How long I’ve wanted to take you from him? You have no idea how hard it was to not take you into the bathroom that night and fuck you the way you deserved. I wanted so badly for you to be mine.”

Overstimulation begins to wash over you, becoming a pleasurable sting that you don’t want to go away. His cock twitches inside of you and his breathing becomes heavier. You can see him trying to say something more, but all that comes out of him is a heavy groan, and then his hips are stuttering against yours. Warm cum spills into you, mixing with your own, and spilling out onto the sheets beneath you. Your legs thrash in Minghao’s grip, but he pins you down as his hips slow. His hair is messy, his forehead tinged with sweat. You can see his mouth hanging open a bit, heavy breaths rolling out of him.

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

The sentence replays over and over in your mind amidst the scattered post-sex thoughts.

How long I’ve wanted to take you from him?

Minghao rolls to the side, laying beside you on his large bed.

He didn’t say anything to you, and you didn’t say anything to him.

It was pure silence. A silence that allowed for clear thoughts.

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

The drive to your father’s company the next day is…quiet to say the least. There’s an air of discomfort around the two of you and you’re unsure of whether it’s due to him having to meet your father or the conversation that will follow. Minghao, much like the night the two of you met and you’d asked about why everyone seemed to disapprove of him, was tense. His hands were set on his knees, squeezing tightly to the point of his knuckles turning white. His head is turned away from you, keeping his gaze on the city as you drive. It makes you nervous. Had you done something wrong? Was he regretting everything?

You swallow hard, mimicking his position and turning to look out the window.

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

There had been something so off about the way he said that. You still couldn’t quite figure out what it was, and it had your stomach churning uncomfortably.

The feeling only worsens when you pull up in front of your father’s building and Gyuri is standing with Seungcheol. Both look upset, standing straight with their arms folded behind their backs.

“What is this?” Minghao murmurs, thanking the driver quietly when his door opens. You slide out behind him, taking his hand in your own as he helps you stand.

“I’m…I’m not sure what this is.” You admit, your eyebrows knitting together as Gyuri approaches you. “Gyuri, what’s happening?”

“You need to come with me,” she tugs at your arm, attempting to pull you away from your new lover.

“What?” Your hand tightens in Minghao’s, your feet gluing into place. “What— what are you talking about? Gyuri, what’s going on? What is Seungcheol doing here?”

“Y/N,” Seungcheol steps toward you, but Minghao is faster and pushes you behind him. Your hand dislodges from his, and you yelp as Gyuri practically rips you away from him. Your knees hit the ground, skin scraping against pavement. The door of the company building practically flies open, a few police officers filing out with your father taking up the rear.

“Father?” Your throat is closing up, too many emotions pulsing through your body.

“What is this?” Minghao is yelling. People are stopping on the streets to stare. Gyuri and Seungcheol pull you to your fight, and you don’t think you have the strength to stop them. “Y/N, WHAT IS THIS?”

For a moment, you’re afraid. He lunges for you, and two officers grab at him. He looks rabid, his eyes crazed and teeth bared like some animal as he yells and screams and kicks against the people holding him. Your father approaches you, relief replacing the typical stone-cold gaze he gives you.

“What’s happening?” You’re sobbing now, blood washing down your legs. Gyuri is crying with you, and Seungcheol’s hands are shaking.

“Are you alright?” Your father asks. “Did he do anything to you?”

“I— what—” you can’t breathe.

“Xu Minghao,” an officer speaks over the commotion. “You are under arrest for the crimes of criminal harassment, assault and battery, and extortion. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney—”

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME—” Minghao’s hand flies out, nearly clipping the officer in the jaw as he finishes speaking.

He yells obscenities, yells for you, at you, at the people around him. He curses wildly, using every name under the sun, threatens death upon everyone.

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

“I’m sorry.”

Gyuri is sitting on the chair beside you as you get your knees treated. You stare blankly ahead of you, and she turns her head to Seungcheol, silently pleading for help.

“Y/N,” he says slowly, “do you understand what’s happening?”

No response.

“Minghao…we told you he was not the man you thought he was. You fell too hard, too fast, didn’t give us time to tell you everything.”

Silence. Gyuri starts talking again, not knowing if you heard anything they were saying.

“He’s…he was planning on using you, Y/N. Using you to get…to get your father’s company, just like he did with his own father. It…it was all fake. Everything you learned about him, everything we all thought we knew about him…it was all lies. It was in the small details.”

People always said you were innocent. People always called you naive. You trusted too easily, loved even easier. It made it easy to use you, to take everything you had and throw you to the side. Some people of new money were able to gain the respect of those of old money, but you?

No one would ever respect you.

Not after you fell for the gorgeous man, fell for his gorgeous lies and fantasies.

Thinking about him here in this hospital room…

Something about it makes you want to sink and drown and die. Maybe that would be easier.

“Can… can I leave?” you look up at Seungcheol, tears welling in your eyes. He looks heartbroken. “I want— I want to leave, Seungcheol. Can we leave?”

Heartbroken. That’s the look in his eye that you couldn’t recognize last night. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t the realization that he had lost you.

“We can go. It’s over now.”

170 notes · View notes

tatumrileyslover · 4 months

Text

Please Take Me Anywhere But Home

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Sejanus Plinth Headcannons ˚୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x Capital!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: nothing really it’s just fluffy, lil bit of self doubt from Sejanus, wintertime, small mention of the war :P

A/N: this is a small apology for pt2 of Capital Don’t Cry taking so long, this is kinda inspired by take me anywhere but home by Seulgi (my love) you’ll all need some cute Sejanus fluff before the angst of the next part (also none of this is proofread)

ೀ Sejanus is actually the sweetest boyfriend ever

ೀ is 100% a caregiver

ೀ you feel slightly ill he's making sure you're tucked up in bed and Ma will send an entire basket of homemade pastries

ೀ he's definitely a neat freak

�� if you hurt yourself in anyway at all, he has something for it

ೀ your stomach hurts, he has painkillers

ೀ you cut yourself, he has bandages

ೀ you have a killer migraine, he somehow has some morphling to help ease the pain.

ೀ and he tops it all off with a forehead kiss

ೀ definitely a paranoid type

ೀ knows you would cheat on him ever, but the second he sees you talking to someone else, he's immediately insecure

ೀ I think he feels he's not good enough for you

ೀ a successful Capital citizen, your family is very powerful, you already had your foot in some of the business your family owned.

ೀ he was just him, no matter how hard he tried, he'd never be seen as Capital, he was the black sheep of his family and the black sheep in the Academy

ೀ you never cared about his background

ೀ at the Academy he was the only person you met who wasn't self-centred and vain and that was really fucking attractive

ೀ probably thought you were only trying to be his friend because of a friend or something

ೀ definitely a bit cautious of you at first but that man is head over heels in no time

ೀ definitely the type to buy you flowers and a teddy bear

ೀ let's be honest you probably have a collection of teddy bears from every date you've ever been on

ೀ definitely love physical touch

ೀ always walking round hand in hand

ೀ loves walking you from class to class, just the feeling of your small hand in his makes his heart soar

ೀ he's also big on forehead kisses

ೀ he's definitely embarrassed of his Ma the first time you meet

ೀ she's pulling out the photo albums, all Sejanus's baby pictures on display

ೀ he genuinely wants the world to swallow him whole in that moment

ೀ assumes (incorrectly) that you'll see him as inferior, since you're seeing photos of him when he was in the district

ೀ it honestly makes you fall in love with him more, getting to see him in his childhood home

ೀ that night he walks you back to your apartment, snow falling, walking hand in hand

The Capital look beautiful at this time of year, arguably more than usual with Sejanus by your side. The cold breeze that left the tip of your nose red to the plush scarf Sejanus insisted you wear on your walk back to your apartment. The snow crunched beneath your feet, bring back memories of your childhood. Innocent memories of winters past spent making angels in the snow and the bleak, grim wintertime during the war. Although the snow brought unpleasant memories, it also brought you him.

His soft black hair had begun to turn white, sprinkled with powdery flakes. His Ma insisted he wear a woollen hat but he tore it off the second he was out of her sight. You could tell he was a bit embarrassed all night, she immediately took you in as if you were family, showing you all the family photos, including ones of him as a child.

He looked so cute, seeing him back in his home back in District Two. His Ma told stories of their town and flaunted photos of the picturesque mountains they lived near. Ma Plinth was proud of her home, and you could tell she missed it dearly. You wished you had the same type of bond with your home like she did but the Capital wasn't a place to be proud of. You felt like a songbird stuck in a cage, only to be ogled at. You wanted to be free, that's what drew you to Sejanus in the first place, he was a breath of fresh air. Lost in thought, you slowed down a bit.

"Are you alright?" Sejanus looked a bit concerned, he was convinced that his Ma's sales pitch of District Two had completely turned you off. He was almost certain that you'd never speak to him again after tonight. You turned you head to him happily humming examining his red cheeks.

"I was thinking..." Sejanus froze in his tracks, turning to face you, fearing the worst. His heart melted when he heard what came out of your mouth.

"After we graduate from the Academy, if you'd like to take a trip to Two, you could show me around the place, I'd love to learn more about where you grew up,"

"You want to visit District Two?" Sejanus was shocked, thinking the idea of visiting the districts would never cross your mind.

"Well, your Ma made one hell of a sales pitch, it sounds like the most beautiful place," you're soft hands pushed some hair out of his eyes, resting softly on his cheek, "you don't talk about it often and I know how important it is to you, I want to learn more about your life before you came here," Sejanus's hand covered your own, he looked at you in awe, he couldn't have dreamt up a better partner.

"Are you sure you want to?" You smiled brightly, nodding while pulling him closer to you. It was like a scene out of a movie, the snowflakes continued to fall in clusters across the quiet streets of the Capital, the entire city fell silent. His brown eyes bore into your soul, his hands tenderly cradled the back of your neck, pulling you in swiftly to unite your lips. He couldn't help but smile throughout the kiss, happiness radiating within him. He pulls back gently, his hand resting on your cheek, carefully examining your face.

"I'd go anywhere with you, just take me anywhere but home."

258 notes · View notes

imma-hallyucination · 2 months

Text

take it

female reader x non-idol!seulgi (feat. lackey!bang chan x reader)

2558

18+. MDNI.

Additional Warning From The Author. This is very explicitly noncon. A lot of potentially triggering words, phrases and emotions are graphically depicted. If the warnings are triggering to you, please do not read this fic. I do not condone or approve of the actions depicted in this fic in any way, shape or form.

dead dove: do not eat—rape/noncon; pwp; gangbang; drugging; smut—dom!seulgi and bang chan; rough sex (face and pussy slapping, choking, scratching, hair-pulling); humiliation, objectification (toy, doll, etc.), degradation (whore, r@peslut, etc.), acting “like a child” used as an insult; vaginal fingering; oral (f. receiving); face-sitting, scissoring, missionary; semi-public sex, drugged sex, unprotected P-in-V sex; watersports (piss kink), mommy/daddy kink, voyeurism, exhibitionism, bondage (reader is tied and gagged for most of the encounter); snuff porn (reader is being filmed, it’s implied the video is posted online)

“baby, fuck your life / and I know you want it, baby / you know I want you / don’t underestimate the things that I could do„

Completed 14.02.2024 (dd/mm/yyyy)

Masterlist. Navigation. AO3.

You blink your eyes open, fighting to gather yourself in spite of your foggy vision and the setting sun shining into your face. Your jaw hurts from having a sweat towel stuffed in your mouth for god knows how long, and you groan around it at the heavy pounding in the back of your skull.

You wriggle where you lay, attempting to sit up or roll over—anything—but your hands are tied behind your back with what you think is rope, the skin around your wrists itchy and raw. It makes you whine, arching off the ground before realizing with a slow start that your back is bare.

You crane your neck and let out a confused noise when you realize you’re naked, something nature emphasizes by blowing the wind against your bare pussy. You shiver, and your nipples perk from the cold.

Your eyes struggle to focus and your head hurts—your skin tingles all over and the grass against your bare ass makes your skin itch. How did you... Did you come here alone? You can’t remember. You can’t—

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

The hair on your arms raise as you roll your eyes almost to the back of your head, locking eyes with a pretty woman around your age. Your brain is fuzzy and you can’t put a name to her, but you know you know her and she makes your body spasm with the need to run.

“Look at you,” she tsks from where she sits crouched above you, brown hair rolling over her shoulders in waves. Your eyes catch on the studded band on her upper arm, and it leads your eyes over the loose black boob-tube covering her chest. Your eyes glide over the exposed skin of her sides and stomach all the way down to the frilly black skirt hiked over her knees, gawking at the sight of her black lace panties. “So weak,” she tuts. “So vulnerable.”

She stands up and walks next to you. You turn your head, swallowing nervously at the sight of her Doc Martins. She turns to look over her shoulder at a man in all black (has he always been there?), his dark blue jeans ripped at the knees and tucked neatly into a black pair of combat boots, fluffy black hoodie enveloping his broad frame. A black mask covers his face, and he has a handheld camera pointed right at you. “You getting this?” the lady asks him.

His voice is deep and accented when he replies, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” the woman says. And suddenly you remember her name is Seulgi. Your head pounds like a jackhammer is being held to your skull as flashes of a bar enter your mind, closely followed by more flashes of a pretty girl. Lots of shots. Getting sick in the the bathroom. Seulgi taking you to her place. Blurry, out of order flashes of having your clothes forcefully removed by a man you don’t know, and of pills being put into your mouth and forced down with water.

Dread settles in as you recall these memories—what are you doing here? What does Seulgi want to do with you? She steps forward and your head spins with panic. You feel fuzzy and light, and even though you want to move away, your limbs are heavy and tied and you’re itching all over.

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” Seulgi taunts, crouching next to you. “Aren’t you ashamed to have gotten yourself into this situation?” She runs her fingers down your side, over your hips. You shiver, squeezing your legs and whimpering into the towel.

Seulgi chuckles darkly, her eyes sparkling as she looks you over. The man with the camera walks around you, trying to keep your face in frame as Seulgi reaches up to palm your tits, her slender fingers wrapping around the flesh and squeezing. You whine in the back of your throat, trying to push yourself away; confusingly, your back arches off the grass and into her hand.

“A rapeslut, aren’t you, darling? Arching into mommy’s hand like that.” She smiles sadistically, pinching your nipple painfully hard. “Need mommy to touch you?” Her hand travels from your chest to the inside of your thigh, teasing so close to your entrance your thighs spasm with the desire to get…away?

The tears come without warning. They pool in your eyes, blurring your vision as they fall down your cheek, dripping down to your ear. You can’t beg, so you cry and vehemently shake your head, whimpering into the cloth stuffed in your mouth like a little girl crying into a stuffed animal.

“Stop crying,” she orders coldly, and the hard smack she delivers to your cheek is shocking enough to momentarily quiet your cries. “Haven’t even started yet and you’re sobbing like a fucking child.”

Despite the clear warning in your voice, the sting in your cheek and the fear that twists at your stomach when you feel one of her fingers slide through your folds makes you cry harder, wriggling to get away from her and failing miserably—your limbs are heavy and your head still hurts. The cameraman is standing over Seulgi’s shoulder at an angle that looks down on you as she moves to stand in between your legs. “You wanna cry?” she asks mockingly, a sadistic, borderline psychopathic smile pulling her face into a horrifically beautiful warning sign. “I’ll give you something to cry about.”

You whip back and forth to the best of your abilities, sounds of distress muted by the cloth muffling your mantra: NO NO NO NO.

“Come around here,” Seulgi orders the cameraman. He walks around and sits next to her, holding the camera in a way that captures the full extent of your nakedness while still keeping Seulgi in frame. She forces your legs apart with her knees, and the cameraman takes a second to move the camera closer to capture how you involuntarily clench at the way the wind blows against you.

You’re still crying, and scream into the cloth when Seulgi drags her finger through your folds, the squelching sound making shame and disgust curl around your throat. She does it once more, this time hard-pressing the pad of her thumb against your clit—it makes your back arch. She laughs. As much as you hate it, you crane your head to see what she’s doing, your head pounding so hard you feel dizzy, your vision blurred by tears that never dry up.

She’s spreading your pussy open for the cameraman, who’s got the camera close to her hand, and you involuntarily throw your head back when she inserts a finger. You try to close your legs, but she shoves them open again with a hard smack to the inside of your thigh. You sob into the cloth even as you shiver when she adds another finger and curls it inside of you, the squelch it emits making you sick to your stomach.

“Fucking pathetic,” Seulgi scoffs, eyes honed in on where her fingers disappear inside you. “Fucking whore. You enjoy getting fucked in the open like this? Enjoy getting raped? Recorded? Fucking rapeslut,” she growls, pressing down hard against your clit. You squirm against the floor and pant hard, flinching hard when her hand comes down hard and fast against your pussy, tears streaming down your cheeks in a never-ending river of frustration at not being able to do anything to save yourself.

“Look at her, Chan,” Seugli sighs, spreading your pussylips for the cameraman—Chan—to zoom in with the camera. “God, people are going to go crazy over this…”

You shake violently, clenching and unclenching without meaning to. Your eyes are pounding, if that’s even possible, the drugs they gave you making you lightheaded even though you’re laying down.

When Seulgi leans away from you, you allow yourself a relieved sob, thinking that maybe, maybe, this was all they wanted—they’d blackmail you into silence, but they’d spare you anything else.

Of course, god isn’t kind enough to grant you that mercy.

Seulgi hoists her skirt up over her hips, spreading her legs so Chan can record the dark spot on her panties as she rubs herself over the material, biting her lip in a way that makes your thighs glisten with arousal. You cry into the cloth, shame stabbing you in the stomach: your body betrays you even now.

Seulgi pulls her panties down, circling her clit a couple of times before scooting closer to you, and you only realize what she’s about to do once she’s straddling you.

You shake your head, whimpering and sobbing and shaking and begging, begging her to please stop, please let me go, even though you doubt she can understand you with your mouth full.

She slaps you again. “Shut up, whore. Take it like a good girl. Don’t disappoint your mommy.”

You cry still, even though it gets drowned out by the unholy, treacherous moan that leaves your lips the second she starts rubbing against you, rolling her hips in a way that makes your eyes roll back.

Your entire body is tense, and you can’t stop crying, but you feel a distantly familiar coil in your stomach as your clits rub together. Seulgi’s hands are painfully tight around your breasts, and then scratch down your breastbone to just above your bellybutton hard enough to make the skin angry and red and burning. Burning as you cum, burning as your cum mingles with hers, as she slowly grinds against you, riding it out.

Your eyes flutter open; tired, red and irritated, only to land on Chan—camera focused on your and Seulgi’s intertwined bodies, one hand palming his crotch.

“Sit on her face,” he breathes, like it takes actual effort to speak.

Seulgi glares at him. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I’m sorry, madam,” Chan apologizes immediately, though he doesn’t stop playing with himself. “But I think it’d be good. For the video.”

Seulgi rolls her eyes at him even as she stands up, pulling her skirt off and standing over you. “Fucking perv.”

She leans down, and removes the cloth from your lips.

“Please,” you beg hoarsely, crying with your whole chest. Your wrists are raw, and your head hurts—you can barely focus on anything else. Your muscles are so tense they’re starting to cramp. “Please, I just want this to end, please, I—“

Seulgi squeezes your cheeks until your lips turn into a pout, uncaring of the tears staining her palms. “Shut up,” she hisses. “No one likes a talking doll. They’re annoying. You’re a fucking toy. Toys don’t speak.”

You sob again, trying and failing to shake your head. “It won’t end until you make mommy cum again. I don’t care if you get tired, hell, you can suffocate for all I care,” she squeezes your cheeks so hard the skin around her knuckles turns white, “you will make me cum.”

And just like that, she’s letting go of your cheeks to lower herself over your mouth. You try and turn away, but she’s on you, and you can taste her on your tongue.

She grinds down on you, rubbing her cum all over your face. You try and keep your mouth closed, but she grabs your hair and roughly pulls at it, hard enough that you yelp in pain.

“You better start,” she warns, grinding more vigorously against you.

Afraid of what might happen if you don’t comply, you gingerly press your tongue against her, hating yourself when your stomach clenches at the lewd moan that leaves her lips in response.

As you drag and suck and kiss over her pussy, you’re painfully aware of Chan’s camera situated by your shoulder, and you can’t stop yourself from crying at the realization that your face is going to be all over the internet.

You push your tongue in and out of her awkwardly, your jaw hurting as she continues grinding hard against your face, tugging harshly at your hair either because it’s not enough or for her own amusement—you can’t tell—but the cry you let out in response is what tips her over the edge.

She cums, and it’s everywhere. Your cheeks, your nose, dribbling down your chin onto your neck, in your mouth.

You pant as she stands up on shaky legs, your chest heaving, tears mingling with Seulgi’s essence, and then, before you can realize what’s happening, she’s pissing. All over your face, squatting above you as golden liquid mingles with all the other fluids already sticking to your skin. Seulgi groans as she releases, her stomach muscles contracting and relaxing, holding still above you even as her thighs shake; waits until the stream tapers off to stand to her full height.

You gag as the acidic taste mingles with the saltiness of your tears and the sweetness of her cum, as the stench seeps into your skin.

You don’t even have the energy to cry anymore—your throat is scratchy, and the pounding behind your eyes is enough to make your vision blur and dot around the edges. You’re nothing more than a toy—something to be marked; pissed on, fucked, used—a sexdoll meant to take it like a good girl.

“Let me have her, mistress?” Chan asks, and you notice now that he has his dick in his hand—big and veiny and leaking with precum. “Please?” he adds for good measure.

Seulgi, you notice, is sweating, and she gives a dismissive wave over her shoulder, holding a hand out for the camera. Chan gives it to her immediately, not even bothering to push his pants further down than his knees before he’s laying on top of you.

“Please,” you beg, and then choke and cough when he shoves two long fingers down your throat, pressing against the back of your tongue so you gag around them.

“Always liked you better quiet,” he groans against your jaw, rolling his hips against yours.

The tip of his dick snags on your entrance, and it makes your entire body jolt.

“Dirty girl, getting fucked in the open like this,” he says, rubbing against you—maybe that’s all he wants to do, you hope. “So fucking naughty. Fucking slut,” he growls, making you gag around his fingers again before leaning back to align himself to your entrance.

You scream when he shoves himself all the way in, biting down on his fingers. He yells angrily and pulls his fingers out of your mouth to slap you across the face. Your vision swims and you groan, your back scratching against twigs and stones when he pounds into you.

“Fucking bitch,” he growls, wrapping his hand around your throat, applying enough pressure to make your head spin. “Biting daddy’s fingers like that, like an ungrateful whore. Gonna show you.”

You hear squelching beside you and realize dumbly that Seulgi is rubbing herself in time with Chan’s thrusts, your body bouncing with each painful thrust he delivers.

As he nears his release, his grip on your neck gets tighter, and when he cums inside of you, you let the dark embrace of unconsciousness spare you any of what happens next, a single tear dripping down your cheek and into the dewy grass next to your shoulder.

105 notes · View notes

wendysimp · 1 year

Text

Sharing is caring

Smut, threesome, blowjob, deepthroat, pussy eating, face fucking, squirting

Continuation and part 2 of Best Lollipop Ever!

Enjoy!!!

Y/n’s POV

After that amazing “game” I played with Wendy, I decided to head into my room to chill and wait for my turn to take a shower. I get on my phone and decided to check out Wendy’s friends. And my god are they really something. I wait for a few more minutes for Wendy to finish then get up to grab myself a towel and-

“Hey dumbass! Go take a shower, you stink.” She says after she opens my door and peaks her head in.

“My friends are coming over in a few minutes.” She leaves and heads downstairs. She really does get annoying sometimes, but anyway I’m gonna head over to the shower.

15 minutes later

Just finished up and wrapped myself in a towel. I make my way downstairs to grab a drink but then got stopped by someone who spotted me.

“Mmm who’s that hottie Wendy?” The tall girl with long black hair and bangs asked. I see Wendy’s friends and herself as she looks at me with an annoyed look.

“Really!? Y/n go put some fucking clothes on!” She throws the cushions at me but I catch them all and throw them back on the couch.

“Okay okay I will now stop.” I put the cushions back. I smile as I look at the girls and introduce myself. “Hey there ladies, I’m Y/n, and welcome to our wonderful home.” I say and Wendy rolls her eyes.

“Guys this is my dumbass brother Y/n, Y/n this is Irene, Seulgi, Yeri and Joy.” She introduced them and I come over to shake there hand. They all smile except for Irene. She kinda looks annoyed by me too but, oh well, she’s hot too.

Wendy gets more annoyed and pulls me upstairs and tells me to put some clothes on. “Ugh, okay okay I will!”

Joy’s POV

“Wendy, your brother is hot!” I couldn’t get his muscular body and handsome face out of my head. Wendy rolls her eyes.

“Eww, no he’s not.” She says as we all head to the couch and sit down then turn in the tv.

“Yes he is! Do you think so too Seulgi?” Yeri asked her after agreeing with me. Seulgi looks up and nods as she bits her lip a little and blushes.

“I can’t lie Wendy, he is.” She admitted and Wendy rolls her eyes in disgust. “What do you think of him Irene?” She asks and Irene doesn’t say anything as she wasn’t interested. She shakes her head and gets up.

“Let’s make something to eat instead of talking about her brother.” Irene says as she walks of with Wendy and Seulgi. Yeri and I just continue to watch but then a thought came into my head. Do you know what it is? Yep, Y/n. His body, his abs, his face. Fuck it’s getting me so wet. I get up and look over at Yeri as she watches.

“I’ll be using the bathroom.” I tell her and she nods as she focuses on the tv. I make my way up the stairs and sneak my way to find Y/n’s room which I did as his door was a little open. I quietly tippy toed my way over and take a peak inside and there he was. Damn! Look at that body.

I keep watching and bite my lip. Oh my! He’s gonna drop his towel! He slowly takes it off and drops it. Oh. My. Fucking. God! H-his cock is fucking huge as well. Fuck, now I’m more wet! Oh fuck this, I can need to get a closer look.

Y/n’s POV

I drop my towel but then heard my door shut. I turn around and see Joy as she entered my room and looks at me but specifically at my bottom half. I quickly try my best to cover my cock but was slowly getting hard as I look at her sexy outfit and body as well as her beautiful face.

“W-what are you doing here!?” I say nervously as I see her bite her lip and slowly walk over to me. She doesn’t say a word as she walks up closer and closer in front of me.

“Holy fuck you’re huge! And fucking hot!” She finally looks at me and tries to move my hand but I stopped her.

“Joy stop!” I tell her as I didn’t want anyone to find her here in my room.

“Oh come on, your cock is so big. Let me see.” She moves my hand and grabs onto my shaft with one hand to get a feel. I couldn’t stop her and let out a soft moan. “So… thick… so warm.” She looks at my cock then gets onto her knees for a better view.

“J-Joy they might be looking for you.” I try to get her to stop. I can’t lie, this is fucking hot. My tip is literally near her face.

“No they won’t, and besides, I know you’re liking this.” She smirked. “You got a girlfriend?” She looks up at me seductively as she slowly strokes my now hard cock. I shake my head and she bites her lip even more.

“Good.” Is what she said and wastes no time and takes my cock into her warm and hot mouth. Fuck! Am I in heaven?

Third Person POV

Y/n leans his head back in pleasure as Joy works her magic down on his shaft. She takes his length out of her mouth, then spits onto his cock and strokes him, making sure she covers your whole cock with it.

“Mmm you like that Y/n?” She winks and smirks as she slaps his tip onto her tongue. She continues her work blowing his hard cock whilst playing with his balls. She was loving every single second of this. Y/n decided to make sure the opportunity doesn’t slip away and grabs a fistful of her hair, making a ponytail and face fucks his cock into her welcoming mouth. Meanwhile downstairs, Yeri noticed Joy was taking a little too long in the ‘bathroom’ and gets up to look for her. She makes her way upstairs and sees that the bathroom was not closed. She was a little confused but then heard a gagging sound and some words. She follows the sound which lead to Y/n’s room door and listens in.

“Mmm f-fuck… y-your c-cock… is huge!” She hears Joy as well as slight moans from Y/n. She bites her lip knowing what they were doing and slowly trails her hand into her pants and rubs herself, slowly becoming wet from what she was hearing in the room. Joy was loving the reactions from Y/n and pushed him onto the bed to sit down and get in between his legs. They both hear the door open and pull away from each other quickly as they panicked. In comes Yeri, she makes sure to close the door and looks at the both of them as they were caught in the act.

“I fucking knew it! You got to taste him before me?!” She looked upset that Joy got to him first, but also turned on by the sight she was seeing. “Oh well, now it’s my turn to show him I can do better.” She licks her lips and pushes Y/n back onto the bed. Joy rolls her eyes after Yeri’s comments and watches as she blew on his cock. “Mmm Y/n, you’re so big in my mouth.” She she spits onto his cock and keeps up the work on him. Joy gets a little jealous and tells Yeri to move aside. Yeri pulls away as she looks at Joy.

“Fuck off, he’s mine!” Joy looks at her with a glare which Y/n found hot.

Yeri laughs as if she said a joke. “He’s not yours, he’s mine! He clearly loves having my mouth on his cock more than yours!” She argued back. Y/n decided to step in and make sure nothing goes further.

“Okay guys, calm down.” They both look at him. “Look, there’s no need to fight okay? There’s one of me, and two of you, so how about we have some fun all together?” He suggested and they look at him before looking back at each other. They think about it for a bit and smirked as they nodded and both began to take his cock together. Y/n was on cloud nine as he had two beautiful girls sharing his cock.

They both take turns taking his cock, while the other sucks on his balls. Their moans fill the room as it starts to get all hot. They both pull away and smirk as they stood up and start to strip each other naked in front of him. Y/n was absolutely loving the view of their bodies and rubs his hands all over them. One playing with Joy’s nicely shaped ass, and the other playing with Yeri’s perfectly shaped tits. They loved what he was doing then both lay next to each other on the bed and spread their legs.

“Come on Y/n, we know you’re really hungry.” They both say as they gesture Y/n to come over. He smirks and gets down on his knees, rubbing both of their wet pussies. They moan out together and smile as they feel his gentle fingers rubbing them. Y/n leans down and dives in to get a taste of both of them. Yeri rubs Joy’s clit as he gets eaten out by Y/n, making her moan out loud. “M-mmm f-fuck yes! Just like that!” Joy moans out and grabs onto Y/n’s hair. Eventually, Y/n will finally switch and give Yeri what she was patiently waiting for.

“Fuckmefuckmefuckme! Yess Y/n!” She was basically screaming out his name as he devoured her pussy while Joy returned the favour by rubbing her clit and also kissing her neck and whispering dirty things into her ear which was turning her on even more. Y/n was loving how crazy they were getting as he eats out the both of them.

“Ahhh fuck I’m gonna cum!” Yeri yells out.

“F-fuck me too!” Joy also yells out. They both rub each other’s clit and felt a special feeling in their stomach and squirt all over the bed as well as cum into Y/n’s mouth. They were both satisfied and try to catch their breath as they sit up.

“You’re so fucking good Y/n, but now it’s time that we return the favour. We both want to taste that fucking cum of yours.” Joy smirks and Yeri nods in agreement.

“So lay down and let us help you.” Yeri seductively whispers into his ear which sent chills down his spine, as he listened to her words. He lays down and they both connect their lips together with his tip in between them, making out with each other as they sandwich his cock with their mouths. He holds onto the back of their heads as they both give the same amount of pleasure he gave to them. He moans out and watches as they both take turns, taking him deep into their throats.

“F-fuck you guys are so fucking hot!” He moans. “Suck that cock! And I want you both to swallow both my load.” His words turns them on even more as they do their job more intensely. He let’s them know that he’s close, and they pull okay as they both stroke his cock and open their mouth while making eye contact with their best friend’s brother.

“Cum for us Y/n! Give us your load and put it down our throats.” Yeri seductively winks at him. He grips the sheets hard as he felt so much pleasure than ever in his life before. They move in closer as Y/n’s load shoots into Joy’s mouth then Yeri’s shortly after. They smile and look at him as they open their mouths and stick their tongues out, showing the load then close them as they both swallow it all and show him that there was nothing left. Y/n was beyond satisfied by the two girls and smiles as he tries to catch his breath. Yeri and Joy both pull each other into a deep and hot make out which made Y/n want to join in. He grabs the girls and pulls them both beside him and takes turns making out with them both.

“Never did I ever think that I’d find myself getting lucky with two of the most sexy and beautiful girls I’ve seen.” He looks at them both as they blush and giggle.

“I’m glad we came over. This was definitely the best day of my life.” Joy smiles and kisses onto his neck.

“It sure was. Fuck Y/n, you got to have the best cock we’ve ever seen.” Yeri does the same on the other side of his neck. Y/n closes his eyes as he loved the feeling of their lips on his neck. A few minutes later the door opens and they all jump and cover themselves with the covers, and heart beating fast. The door slowly opens up and Seulgi’s head peaks in and her eyes widened as she gasps out loud, cover her mouth with her hands as she was shock at the scene.

“Seulgi, move! What is it that made you-.” She turns her head and sees her two friends and Y/n all in the bed together… naked. Her eyes widened as she was also in shock seeing them. The three gulped as they thought they were done for.

“W-what the fuck is going on here!” Irene glares at them all.

To be continued.

Hope you guys enjoyed pt. 2

#kpop smut #joy x male reader #yeri x male reader #joy smut #yeri smut #red velvet smut

700 notes · View notes

seulgiwifeee · 3 months

Text

Secret Admirer || Seulgi

pt. 2 here <<<

♡ Member: Classmate*Seulgi x Loser*Femreader

♡ Theme: slight angst and fluff at some point kinda?.. Idk just please read lol

♡ Warning: None

♡ Description: For months you've communicated with Seulgi by sending her secret admirer letters, but one day you decide to try taking things further between the two of you.

Word count: 4.2k ???

(Sorry if the time stamps might seem a little messy)

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It was like love at first sight.

At the beginning of the school year when your eyes spotted Kang Seulgi walking the busy hallways after exiting your pre-calculus class.

That silky jet black hair, those dangerously sharp monolids that tried to mask her dark yet alluringly soft eyes, her peachy pink lips, the seductive sway of her hips, the confidence in each stride she took, walking the halls as if she owned the school..

And you will never forget those long three seconds of eye contact you two shared that moment, she was so beautiful, your mind couldn't fathom that she was even real! And to top everything off, her shoulder slightly brushed against yours when you walked past each other, cold chills instantly being driven up your spine, your breath hitching and goosebumps rising upon your sensitive skin.

You paused right there in the middle of the moving hallways and flipped your head around, adjusting your big glasses as you curiously watched the girl approach her friends, hearing them all cheerfully call out for her. "Seulgi!"

"Seulgi.." The word melted off your tongue like ice cream, repeating and savoring the taste of the sweet name under your breath to lock it in memory. "Seulgi."

At first, you were intimidated by her mysterious allure, but with the bright smile she flashed spotting out her friends and hearing the warming tone she spoke in when greeting them, you realized she was just a fluffy bunny in disguise as a black cat. You turned your head back around with flushed cheeks, the girl's name echoing throughout your mind, and walked off to your next class with a satisfied heart. Just everything about those amazing fifteen seconds instantly locked you in, and soon after that, each day whenever Seulgi would walk out from her second period, you'd make sure to always stay near the lockers in time just so you could see her beautiful face passing by you and hear her tender voice when chatting with her friends.

Now you, Y/N L/N, have had plenty of minor crushes before, and you obviously knew you deeply admired Seulgi's beauty and charismatic personality, but after a few weeks passing by, you started to realize that this wasn't just an innocent hallway crush, you were becoming obsessed over Seulgi. Every time you looked at her it was like seeing her for the first time over and over again, giving you the same comforting and content feeling, you cherishing those strong feelings you didn't even know you could hold for someone!

You were catching feelings.

Deep feelings.

And you loved it.

For you, you felt like you had an advantage at crushing on Seulgi knowing that she wasn't really a popular student, so that meant there was less of a competition for you and it made you feel like you weren't too far down from her level.

The only downside of falling for Seulgi was that the two of you had no classes together, zero, nothing, nada, so other than walking past each other once or twice a day during the five-minute time period of switching between classes or possibly at lunch if you weren't sitting in the far corner, then there honestly wasn't any other way to see her.

But even if the two of you did have any classes together, there was no way in hell your wimpy, shy, introverted self could start any sort of clear conversation with Seulgi without freaking out and ending up making an absolute fool of yourself! That was the reason alone on why you hadn’t made any friends yet, so how would you had even expected to freely talk to someone you had feelings for?

Lucky you, you came up with a solution and your solution to this problem was to start writing secret admirer letters to Seulgi and slip them into her locker when she wasn't around. Trying to be cute, the nickname you came up with to use as your anonymous signature was "Candy."

Your first attempt at sending the letters was of a cheesy poem you had written about Seulgi's eyes. That entire day you had discreetly walked past her locker multiple times, hoping to catch her in the act of reading it, but either you missed her or she just ignored the letter, both thoughts as equally leaving you disappointed.

Fortunately, during your second attempt at sending a new poem the next day, you caught Seulgi with one of her friends hanging at her locker. You quickly hid and stood around the corner of the hallways, secretly observing the scene as your eyes only gave interest in to where Seulgi's hands were leading to next.

When Seulgi opened her locker, she was immediately startled from the envelope flying out past her, landing in the center of the non-crowded hallway. While she picked it up her friend peaked her head over, nosily asking Seulgi what it was. You watched closely as Seulgi carefully opened the envelope, making sure not to rip your heart sticker seal, and pulled out the note to which both of the girls instantly starting reading out loud. When done reading, Seulgi blushed, covering her mouth in bewilderment while her friend stared at her with her jaw lowered in shock.

You watched intensely, your heart booming in your chest, anxiously trying to read Seulgi's features to figure out whether or not she was feeling the letter, but seeing her bubble a coy laugh with her friend, holding the note tightly to her heart like it was her most prized possession, a wave of relief finally washed over you, confident in knowing that Seulgi was flattered by your poem. But your smile quickly faltered hearing Seulgi and her friend trying to guess who "Candy" was, all the names mentioned only being random guys from the athletic teams.

You were offended, honestly. All that effort and thought you put in just for them to think that any of the boys mentioned were capable of spending any time out of their day to write something as sweet and romantic as your poem?

Those boys wouldn't even buy a girl roses on the first date!

But their words also struck you like a knife to the chest, stinging you in the most sensitive place of your heart. It pained you that the only people in her thoughts were boys.

Boys..

Would Seulgi ever consider being with a girl?

Did the thought ever cross her mind?..

That upsetting question lingered in the back of your mind for a while, but even though the doubt wanted to take over you, it didn't stop you one bit. You were going to let your admiration for her be known no matter what! So ever since then, you'd consistently send Seulgi the admirer letters you'd spend all night working on, never daring to miss or skip a day.

What started from poems went to you asking questions about herself and her daily life, trying to get to know her better, to eventually just having casual conversations. At the bottom of the letters, you would tell Seulgi to write her response on the backside and place it on top of her locker so that you were able to access the letter again to respond back to her; Lunchtime would always be the time you'd check for her responses since you knew Seulgi and any of the people she hung out with would be too far away to spot you near her locker giving and responding to the notes.

In the span of just two months after starting these letters, you and Seulgi were pretty much like best friends. You were so confident in responding to her, it seemed like you knew so much about her now, like you were actually a known person in her life. Each new fact you learned about her only made you fall for her harder.

You were so comfortable, having already accepted to yourself that this was the only way you would continue to communicate with Seulgi, that you weren't at all prepared for what the upcoming second semester had in store for you when you got moved to gym class.

—

You walked into the gym awkwardly and uncomfortably cladded in the skintight gym uniform that you were positive had to have been a size too small. Your arms hugged your body tightly as you sat on the far end of the bleachers, trying your best to keep yourself hidden while you spectated the classmates around you, impatiently waiting for your coach to hurry and start class.

While your eyes glanced around the spacious gym, something, or someone, caught your attention almost immediately. You swiftly pulled your glasses off, cleaned them, and placed them back on to make sure your eyes weren't deceiving you, and surely enough as the gym doors closed you saw the raven head mark her entrance in.

Your hand flew to your mouth to hide your gasp when you saw the tall girl walk to the center of the gym with her friends alongside her. Your first-ever class with Seulgi and it had to be gym? You couldn't tell if this was a blessing or a curse because, on one hand, this would give you a better opportunity to interact with and finally get to see a new side of Seulgi, athletic Seulgi, but that also meant that Seulgi's first impression of you would most likely be as the embarrassingly unfit girl who fails miserably to do even the simplest of stretches, but that's only if she'd even care to spare a glance your way.

Your mouth was quivering and your legs shaking ogling at her slim figure in the fitted gym uniform from afar. And when class had started, you guys running laps and doing basic stretches, all you could do was stay distracted staring at Seulgi the entire time. You never realized how much more attractive Seulgi could get, so now athletic Seulgi was the only image invading your mind for the next couple of weeks when writing your next few letters.

You so badly wanted to write to her about how amazing you thought she looked each time you saw her in class, but you wondered if that would expose too much to her about who you truly were, so you ended up never mentioning it. You weren't confident enough to reveal yourself to her just yet..

—

During one class as everyone was running laps, you were weakly running behind Seulgi and her friends who were jogging with ease, all chatting with one another.

Your eyes were too focused on her lower half, distracting you from the untied shoelace that caused you to trip momentarily, you yelping and falling face-first into the freshly polished wood flooring, causing a dramatically loud thud.

You laid on ground in defeat like a stupid starfish for a few seconds before weakly lifting your head, scanning the area around you to notice everyone paused in their tracks to stare down at you with their confused eyes. Your eyes narrowed over to Seulgi and her friends who were only a few feet ahead of you, all turned around to look at you too. Some of her friends covered their mouths in shock while others were clearly trying to hide their laughs.

To say you were embarrassed was completely an understatement, but as your gaze averted to Seulgi's you noticed something that put you at ease. Although your vision was blurry from the lost of your glasses, you could clearly she wasn't laughing at you.

In fact, it seemed as if she looked genuinely concerned, like she wanted to help you up. But unfortunately, if that was her intention, a random guy had already beat her to it—him stepping in front of you, blocking her completely from your view and holding out his hand to help you. You reluctantly accepted his offer, pulling yourself up to your feet.

Some classmates tried to ask if you were okay, one of them giving you back your fallen glasses while you brushed dirt off your shirt, but you quickly dismissed them, placing your glasses back on and hurriedly ran off finishing your laps in embarrassment, your brain continuously repeating to yourself about how much of a loser you are.

At the end of class, you sat on the locker room bench, mindlessly sinking alone into your thoughts, blankly staring at the floor, but the light tap of a finger on your shoulder snapped you back to reality. "Hi!"

You clocked your head to the side, immediately recognizing that silky voice, and felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach when you made eye contact with the one and only Kang Seulgi. "H-Hi!" You stuttered, your cheeks burning red, trying your best to keep your focus away from Seulgi's abs poking through the cheap white cotton.

Seulgi sat down in the space beside you, keeping a fair distance between the two of you. "You know, that was a pretty hard fall earlier. I just wanted to know if you were okay," Seulgi said, her head tilted as she stared at you, her eyes full of wonder.

You fidgeted with your fingers, keeping your hands close to your chest while trying your best not to break eye contact even though your legs were starting to get equivalent to the feeling of jelly. You were very much still flustered from the earlier incident, so talking about it with Seulgi who watched the whole thing in 4K play out was embarrassing. "Oh.. uh, y-yeah! I guess it kinda hurt then, but I'm okay now, really!" You glanced down at your legs, discovering scraped-up knees you somehow didn't notice or feel earlier.

Seulgi smiled at you, her eyes turning to crescents and the corners of her lips reaching her cheekbones. "Well, that's nice to hear!

By the way, what's your name? I'm Seulgi!" Seulgi held her hand out, waiting for yours. You nervously lifted your shaken hand and joined it with her’s. Your nerves melted at her touch. "I'm Y/N.."

"Oh, yeah, Y/N, that's right! I remember now!" Right after when it looked like Seulgi was going to say something else, her friends walked up to her and told her to hurry with them so they could make it in time to their next class. Seulgi slightly frowned, but then looked at you one more time with a smile, waving bye, and exited the locker room leaving your awkward self all alone again.

Wow.

The first time you spoke to Seulgi, and it didn't end up terrible?

Unfortunately, you and Seulgi didn't go any further than that, that day being the last time you had made real-life conversation with her, but Seulgi fully acknowledging your existence alone is a huge step up for you, and now whenever you two make eye contact, whether it's in gym or the hallways, almost every time she blesses your shy soul with a warm smile to which you reciprocate back an awkward half smile.

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It's now the current date, February 12th, two days until Valentine's Day.

There's a plan you have in mind, but it's so far out of your comfort zone that you don't know if you'll be able to pull yourself to go through with it.

You look down at the note in your hands, rereading it, soaking in the words, pondering it, hoping that you can bring yourself to a conclusion quickly.

Tomorrow morning could we meet at that one tree near the entrance of the tennis court? I feel like it's about time you should know who I truly am!

— Candy ♡

Because it's been months of you and Seulgi hitting it off with the letters and since it's so close to Valentine's Day, you thought why not try to ask her to be your Valentine? You know that if you don't reveal yourself now, then you most likely never will, so why waste this perfect opportunity than to make your reveal to her even more special?

And besides, after a while, Seulgi will surely lose interest in talking with and responding back to basically an invisible person who's leading her on to nowhere.

You let in a deep breath to calm yourself down before sliding the note inside the envelope and sealing it closed with your signature heart sticker. The note is held close to you as you lie under the covers of your bed and turn off your lamp, trying your best to comfortably sleep through the night. You will go through with this.

—

When making your entrance into school the next morning, your mind is full of uncontrollable doubt. For some reason, you now think you're taking things too quickly.. maybe it's too soon? But you've already come this far, there's no way you can back out now.

You walk up to Seulgi's locker, making sure beforehand that no one's around, and hurriedly slip the envelope through the slot, quickly running away to your first class.

Class periods go by and soon it's lunchtime. You walk back to Seulgi's locker to check on the note, hoping to arrive back to a response, but when you search the top of her locker you frown.

There's nothing.

Quickly you're starting to get nervous again, imagining the worst, thinking that Seulgi's ignoring Candy now. Maybe she even threw away the note! You knew this was all just a mistake to do from the start!..

You grip your arm awkwardly, walking away from the lockers with your head held down in shame and dreadfully enter the cafeteria, grab a lunch tray, and look around in search of an open seat. You normally sit alone in the far corner of the cafeteria, but a random friend group for some reason stole your table today so now you're forced to actually be seen out in the open. You groan, looking around for empty tables with fail until you notice an open section at an occupied table. There's at least a two-seat distance from the other person sitting on that side of the bench so that's okay enough for your introverted comfort.

But what you didn't realize when sitting down at the table was that Seulgi and her friends were sitting at the other end. You froze as your eyes locked on her figure, stopping yourself mid-chewing with the fork still sitting in your mouth.

You could hear them speaking on the topic of Valentine's Day which instantly opened your ears to eavesdrop.

"So Seulgi, has anyone asked you to be their valentine yet?" One of her friends asks. Seulgi laughs shyly. "Actually, a lot of guys have asked me!"

Your heart sinks at the excitement in her words.

"But.. I haven't accepted any of their offers."

You're suddenly confused. You never saw any of the guys' said attempts, but you're so sure she would've accepted one of them by now since it seems like so many people have asked, right?

"Then who are you gonna go out with? Are you seriously going to ride single again this year?" Another one of Seulgi's friends chimes in, rolling their eyes as if they're disappointed in her.

Seulgi quickly shakes her head at them in protest and pulls out her backpack, digging deeply through it. You can see something poking out as she pulls something out, your letter, but then she hesitates and pushes it back down, zipping her bag closed. "I think I'll have a Valentine tomorrow.. You know, I know I haven't really updated you guys about anything, but I've still been receiving those letters from my secret admirer and honestly, it seems like he's been hinting at me that he'll ask me!"

All of her friends squeal, now starting to bombard her with questions. "What—Why haven't you told us? Can you show us a letter? Did he send you another one today?" Someone tries to reach for her backpack but Seulgi's quick to slap their hand away. "No! Move!"

You listen to the conversation in disbelief, slowly chewing on your lunch. Seulgi saw the letter, but she didn't write you a response to it, but she also basically just admitted she'll be your Valentine if you ask her out tomorrow, right?

Also, it's clear she's been keeping you a secret from her friends, but in a way, it flatters you because it makes this thing feel so much more personal. No friends with her to laugh at your conversations, just genuine bonding. It really seems like she's looking forward to you..

..But her words sting at you once again once she speaks the words "He."

You've never asked her if she likes girls or given her any hints you even are one, which is stupid, you know, but every time you thought about writing it you'd freak out and crumble up the note.

You almost feel bad. You're the mole amongst the table while the girls continue to wonder and guess who the admirer is, obviously expecting a hot football player, not someone like you. You bet she rejected all of the guys asking her out just so she could wait to be asked out by you, and now once she meets you she's probably going to be faced with disappointment..

In the deep corner of your mind, there was always a thought knowing that rejection for simply being a girl was a huge possibility, but you never fully registered how you would react, the embarrassment and shame that would come from it. You knew you weren’t ready to handle that.

On the detour back to your locker at the end of the day to grab your backpack, passing by Seulgi's locker, you spot a piece of paper sticking out from the top of her locker. Looking around to make sure no one's paying attention to you, you slickly grab the paper and quickly walk away to your locker trying not to look suspicious.

As you approach your locker you look down and read the note you sent Seulgi, flipping it over, reading over her response, and see her confirming she'll meet up with you tomorrow.

You want to smile at this, but nothing can distract you from the ongoing fear you have.

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You want to throw up.

After your long night of anticipation, it's finally the day you'll be asking Seulgi to be your Valentine.

There's no way you can back down now, she's already agreed to meet and if you don't and try to write her an excuse instead on why you didn't show up then she'll for sure never respond to your notes again!

You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, taking in deep breaths as you examine your curled pigtails. You never thought you would see yourself wearing your hair in anything other than down, but while you and Seulgi were talking a few months back she had mentioned her favorite hairstyle was pigtails, so why not do that? You already knew you weren't the most attractive person out there, so maybe she'd find you more appealing this way?

You walk out of the bathroom with your mind finally formed at some sort of peace, grab your bag, and pick up your gifts for Seulgi before finally gaining the courage to walk out of the house.

The wind is chilly as it swishes past your bare legs while you walk down the sidewalk. Soon, you reach the school grounds, being greeted with an unnerving chill up your spine upon entrance.

You so badly want to turn around to go back home and just forget about all of this—it's terrifying, really.

But you inhale one final breath, breathing in slowly and exhaling all of your worries and doubts away. You return on your walk through the school campus, the couples around you punching at your heart as you walk past them being all up and close on each other, the girls blushing as their boyfriends gift them roses, tiny teddy bears, and boxes of chocolates. You know, the stereotypical things.

You approach closer to the tennis court, your heart booming in your chest as the calm thoughts you thought you managed are overrun with fear. What if Seulgi's not even waiting there? What if this is just a waste of time?

You squeeze your eyes shut when turning the corner leading to the tennis court, not bearing to watch your failed plan. Your eyes slowly opening, your body tenses seeing Seulgi standing by the tree just like you had asked her, her scrolling on her phone as she waits patiently.

She actually listened to you. Well, to Candy.

You hold Seulgi's gifts behind your back and slowly but surely make your approach to her, your legs shaking in fear after each step.

Quickly, in the corner of her eye, Seulgi notices you and lifts her head, beaming a joyful smile your way. You gulp and smile awkwardly at her, stepping closer until the two of you are a good three feet apart. "What are you doing here, Y/N?" Seulgi innocently asks.

Your lips quiver, looking into her oblivious eyes, preparing your words. "I-I.. I wanted to give you something important.." You somehow manage out past your shaky breath. You hesitate your actions, but pull yourself together and hold one of your hands out, a note held tightly between your fingers as you offer it to Seulgi.

There really is no turning back now.

— Seulgiwifee ໒꒰ྀི♡˵ᴗ͈ . ᴗ͈ ꒱ྀི১

#red velvet #kpop imagines #red velvet imagines #seulgi #kang seulgi #seulgi imagines #kpop #wlw #seulgi x reader #seulgi red velvet #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #fem reader #fluff

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sanjoongie · 3 months

Text

Monster Under the Bed~ Topaz's Version

🖤Monster! reader (f) x Human! Wooyoung

🖤Collab w/@flurrys-creativity, Her fic is Monster under the Bed the reverse of my scenario!

🖤Au: Monster under the bed au

🖤Trope: monster/human lovers

🖤Word Count: 1,835

🖤Rating: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

🖤Warnings: ⚠wooyoung is listening to nsfw audio, looking to tempt the reader out and the reader thinks that wooyoung is genuinely reacting to her ⚠ both parties are consenting!!! ANYWAYS tentacles (m), anal play (m), oral (m), nipple play (m), gagged (m), Mommy kink (f), dom! reader, sub! wooyoung, brat! wooyoung, slapping (m), dacryphilia, aftercare

🖤Summary: you've been under Wooyoung's bed for a long time but where once you only fed off fear, you now feed off lust. And luckily for you, Wooyoung is good for both

🖤beta's: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland

🖤Monster by Irene & Seulgi as inspiration

🖤 divider by @cafekitsune

Wooyoung was tucked into his bed, his nightly ritual about to begin. You practically rubbed your tentacles together. Tonight was the night. You were going to reveal yourself to Wooyoung and rock his world. Why let him jerk off at night to some strangers' voices when you could offer yourself up? You knew you could make him feel good… you just had to let him know you existed.

You were the monster under Wooyoung’s bed. You had existed there to always feed from his fears but that had evolved through the years. Even though Wooyoung still got scared when you knocked something over on his dresser by his bed, the lust that wafted from his bed when he masturbated was much more delicious.

You listened patiently when Wooyoung’s bed creaked above you. You knew it was time to slip out from under when the bed shifted and you knew Wooyoung was pulling down his pants. You peeked from the lip of the bed and saw that his eyes were closed. Your eyes moved down the line of the bed and licked your lips. Wooyoung’s dick was so pretty. You couldn't wait to have it all to yourself.

“Mommy, I’ve been a bad boy,” Wooyoung whimpered.

Your lips curved up into a smile and you rose higher to sit on the bed. You crossed your tentacles and leaned on the bed to get a better view of Wooyoung. He liked to call you Mommy for some reason. You think he wanted someone to take care of him and scold him. You could do that for your Wooyoung.

“What do you deserve, my bad boy?” You wondered.

Wooyoung swallowed and then ran a hand up his stomach. He pushed up his shirt and then pinched his nipple. “Hnnnn, I deserve to be punished, Mommy.”

“But you like the punishment,” You teased him.

“Mommy!” He called out. His eyebrows were furrowing and his lips pouted, but still his eyes remained closed.

You moved easily; your lithe, transforming, always-altering, black shadow of a body hovering over him. Wooyoung’s hand went back to playing with his head. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over his slit, gathering the precum there and spreading it along his head. You pushed a piece of stray hair out of his face, that was making him flinch from tickling him. “Let me take you in my mouth, baby.”

“I’m too sensitive, wait, Mommy!” Wooyoung protested immediately.

“Be a good boy for Mommy and take it,” You insisted.

Wooyoung’s hand dropped from his body. His chest heaved at edging himself. With his palms flat on his bed, you knew this was your opportunity. “Please, punish me.”

You took Wooyoung into your mouth and sucked only on his sensitive head. Wooyoung’s hips surged upwards and then pushed back, body explaining that he liked the stimulation but it was also a lot. Your tentacles pinned his hips back to the bed. They also sought out to play with his balls and lick his puckered hole.

“Hol-holy shit,” Wooyoung cursed. "I knew I wasn't going crazy--you are real!"

You pulled off Wooyoung but let your tentacles continue to play with him. Wooyoung’s mouth was open in shock, one airpod pulled out of his ear, still held in the air, but his other ear clearly empty. Another tentacle pushed Wooyoung back down. “You stay laid down and take your punishment, bad boy.”

Wooyoung nodded his head dumbly. More tentacles slithered up his torso. Some forked off to play with his nipples and two thicker ones went straight into Wooyoung’s mouth. He moaned softly around your tentacles while the ones wound around his nipples. You squeezed Wooyoung’s pec’s, appreciating them while also gagging your prey.

Your mouth went back toWooyoung’s cock. You licked long strips up the length of his cock, starting from base and ending at tip. Your tongue was elongated and as black as your body. It also dripped with a liquid that was quite thick and stuck to Wooyoung’s cock like a second coat.

Hands suddenly clutched your head and shoved your head unceremoniously down Wooyoung’s length. He fucked your mouth, a few thrusts hitting deep into you before your tentacles wound around Wooyoung’s wrists and pinned his hands above his head. You rose above Wooyoung, the brightness of the moon illuminating your body that was becoming bigger and taller.

“That’s awfully naughty of you, Wooyoungie,” You scolded him.

Wooyoung whimpered in his bed and his dick couldn't be harder. You sighed in disappointment. “I guess you’re not cumming tonight.”

You edged Wooyoung through several almost-orgasms. The moon shifted so that your shadow cast across the room was slanted now. Wooyoung was a trembling wet mess and he couldn't have looked more pretty to you. Tears were streaming down the sides of his face, making a mess of the pillow below him. His legs were held aloft by your tentacles, so you could have access to his entire bottom half. Tentacles by the tens were suctioned along his balls, sucking and licking. Two pinky-thick tentacles were moving in and out of his puckered hole, at opposite timing. Wooyoung’s cock could not be seen, you had several tentacles wound around it like a spiraling pattern, tightening and loosening around his length. Everything was enough stimulation to keep aroused but not enough, never enough to give him an orgasm.

Wooyoung made a low puppy-like whine and you pulled the tentacles from his mouth. Even though he had requested to speak, his tongue still chased after the tentacle that had been engaging his tongue in a dance.

“Please, I can be a good boy,” Wooyoung pleaded.

“Are you done playing your games, Wooyoungie?” You wondered softly.

Wooyoung nodded but you were pretty sure he would agree to anything in order to finally cum, in the state he was in. When he didn’t answer you quickly enough, you slapped his face, first softly and then harder the second slap, sending his face against his pillow with the force. The mark there was red and Wooyoung’s pupils sharpened. “Yes, Mommy, I’m done playing my games. I promise. I pinky-promise.”

“I can start to fuck you, baby, but if you act up…” You let your threat hang in the air.

Wooyoung watched in horror as all your tentacles left his body. They all receded back into your body and you shrunk back to human size. “Nonono,” He chanted, “Please come back. I love your loving. Don’t stop. Please, I can be good. Please, fuck me. I want to cum for you. I want to be a good boy for you.”

You cocked your head curiously. Was he addicted to your tentacles? “Do I make you feel good, Wooyoungie?” You wondered.

You let your tentacles come out tentatively. You could see the pink on Wooyoung’s cheeks as he nodded and opened his mouth, spread his legs and waited for you to go back to torturing him. He really did love his punishment but you think that he would love to come a bit more. Before your tentacles could gag him again, he spoke. “Can you slap me again? But…” his eyes lowered downwards.

You smiled happily. “You want me to slap your ass?”

Wooyoung nodded, looking hopeful as your tentacles stuffed his mouth again. His eyes were quick to glaze over as most of your tentacles went back to their positions. You floated your torso over Wooyoung’s cock, shadow parting to reveal a very dark but very wet cunt.

“Oh God,” Wooyoung moaned, muffled by the tentacles inside.

“It’s all yours, Wooyoung, you just have to be a good boy to receive it,” You murmured.

The mischievous look in Wooyoung’s eyes spoke volumes on how he was always going to be a bad boy but you found that you didn’t want it any other way. And when his pupils blew when a tentacle slapped his ass, it confirmed it.

You slid down Wooyoung’s length, your body adapting immediately to his cock. Wooyoung whimpered but at this point, you weren’t sure he even knew what he was whimpering about anymore. He was getting fucked in every hole by you and now he was encompassed in your hole.

“See all the good things Mommy can do for you?” You can’t help but murmur as you begin to slide up and down his cock. “You don’t need to be naughty and touch yourself, Mommy can help you with that. You don’t need to beg, Mommy will always be here to fuck you.”

You lost yourself in the pleasure you gave to Wooyoung, and yourself. You knew it was going to be delicious to feed from the pleasure that wafted off Wooyoung but you didn’t truly understand how wonderful it was going to be to get fucked by Wooyoung. The feeling of him moving in and out of you made you unfocused and your tentacles got messy. You almost melted as you felt your pleasure build with Wooyoung’s.

Wooyoung’s noises under you were growing to a crescendo and you sharpen your focus. You couldn't very well get sloppy at the end of all this. There was a tentacle for every erogenous area Wooyoung could have had. They licked his neck, his nipples, even his perineum. Your tentacles fucked his ass and you bounced on his dick and then everything came undone. Wooyoung shouted, his back arching off the bed as he came. You could feel him unload inside of you but it was nothing like feeding off his climax. He was delicious, tasting like a full course meal, filling you up in another way as well.

Sated, you gently removed everything from Wooyoung and moved back to sitting on the side of his bed. His cock pitifully leaked on his stomach, sweat drenched most of his body, his chest heaved with heavy breathing, and his mouth was still open, letting out small whines with every puff of air leaving his lips. He looked wonderfully used and you felt proud for being the one who had done that.

You found a towel from his basket and wiped him down with the same tentacles that had pleasured him. You also found an energy drink he had placed beside his bed and raised it to his mouth. You watched as Wooyoung’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed a few before gasping when you pulled it away. His eyes cracked open wearily. “Thank you.”

You couldn't help but pull up his blankets and tuck him in, like you had always done when he was finished with his bad dreams and you had fed from him in another way. “Mommy will always take care of her boy.”

Wooyoung turned in the blankets, settling into sleep. “Always?”

You patted his head as you slowly moved back to your place under his bed. “I’m not going anywhere,” You promised.

“Good,” Wooyoung paused to yawn, “Because I need you to bend me over and slap my ass for being a bad boy.”

You chuckled. Even half asleep, Wooyoung was still a brat. “I doubt that’s far away in the future.”

Taglist: @mingsolo @hijirikaww @starlitmark @stardragongalaxy @k-pop-ology

suffer with me braincell: @smallfrye

#pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #ateez smut #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung smut #atz smut #jung wooyoung x reader #topaz's work #ღatz #bedtime stories with flurry and topaz

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ad0rechuu · 10 months

Text

★ MILKY WAY. ━━ (036) a strange feeling

WORD COUNT. 709

WARNINGS. this an angsty one bois but nothing to warn really, yn is called a little otter affectionately

credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33

THIS FEELS STRANGE.

Usually when the two of you meet up, he chooses a quiet place where you don’t have to worry about getting recognized. But this cafe was bustling.

A little part of you wishes you had asked to meet up at the Hanuelsan café. San’s parents' café feels a lot more calming than the random Starbucks you are in right now.

He shouldn’t stand out but he does. He’s wearing a thick black coat, his mask pulled down as he sips his drink; and a bucket hat that hid his bleach blond hair, causing you to just barely see his eyes staring down at his phone screen.

But he does. He stands out to you somehow. Just like when you first saw him between all those other pretty idols, he’s the one that stands out to you.

As you make your way to the table tucked in the back, you try to remind yourself of what Seulgi and Fatou told you. The fact that he wanted to talk isn’t a bad thing and you shouldn’t work yourself up with imaginary scenarios.

You clear your throat and he looks up. You don’t make eye contact, instead opting to keep your gaze on the table. His coffee of choice and your favorite cold beverage sat there next to each other.

He gently grabs your hand pulling you to sit opposite him. The probably meaningless gesture to him has your heart palpitating out your chest.

“Thank you for coming. I’m so happy you and I were able to meet so fast.” He lets go of your hand and pushes the drink in your direction. “I ordered you something. I hope it’s alright.”

Yeah, ‘alright’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. You want to squeal like a teenager in love at his knowledge about you, but the familiar heavy feeling makes it hard to get words out.

“This is my f-favorite, thanks.” You manage to croak out.

He smiles in response as you sip your drink, it doesn’t stay quiet long as a notification on his phone breaks the silence between you two. A warm look finds a way in his eyes when he reads whatever someone sent him.

“I actually called you here today to meet my friend and..” He trails off as the apples of his pale cheeks turn a reddish color.

Before you can even think over his reaction, you respond. “And what?”

He throws his head back in a laugh at your curiosity, the pleasant sound doing something unexplainable with your heart.

“Curious, are we? This is also to explain why I canceled the other day.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “My friend, she locked herself out that day and she called me freaking out, so I couldn’t just leave her. I apologize.”

A small smile graces your face, he’s so caring towards everyone. You went in trying to ignore your feelings but he makes it very difficult. “It’s okay, I think it’s sweet.”

“Actually I also called you here today for selfish reasons.” He nods before looking down shyly. “To show her that nothing is going on between us.”

Your heart felt like it stopped.

“Because I like her and I don’t want to give her the wrong idea.”

You didn’t become an idol for the attention, but you couldn’t say that you hated it. In that moment however, you’re grateful that his attention is on something behind you because you're sure that he would’ve seen your feelings crushed there and then.

He waves as you try to blink back your tears and pull yourself back together.

“Oh, there she is.”

“Hey, Gyu.” A familiar voice calls behind you, you take a deep breath and turn around to face it, because it’s the right, polite thing to do.

“Took you long enough.” He laughs as he pats the seat next to him. “This Yn. Yn this is—”

You face her for the first time as she sticks out her hand for you to shake, the long brown hair, the heavenly smile, there was no stranger sitting in front of you. As if this day hasn’t been hard enough on you.

“Sera?”

“It’s been a while, little otter!”

Huh.

Heart break is a strange feeling.

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NOTES. listen i’m not saying yn isn’t gonna be happy again but buckle up from here okay? also now u know why yn uses an otter emoji (if u forgot who sera was look at extras)

TAGLIST. @bunnystrm @seongwin @aestheticsluut @meginthebuilding27 @gaebestie @stopeatread @pr1ncessm1ng1 @persphonesorchid @se0nghwaswife @seonghwasslytherin @leeknowsnothing @alixnsuperstxr @bluehwale-main @miriamxsworld @tocupid @rieuvie @sunoo-bby @jcngh0-hq @dudufodd @nikisbf @mrowwww @end0rchans @qtdenks @mintgki @dear-dreamie @leo-seonghwa @legohwas @evilsailorsenshi @seonghwaddict @choichaeyiul @iw4milf @yunstarz @cvberidiot @tubatu-wari-wari

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sparklingchim · 2 years

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long way home 18 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 3.2k

genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers, angst

rating: pg

warnings: underage drinking, jealousy, both of em being stoopid silly goofs again, baekhyun cameo !!!! , chanyeol's also mentioned !! 🤩

summary: the one where your foolish heart thinks it'd be a fun idea to kiss jungkook at a party.

a/n: i KNOW im so late w this im sawwryy but here it is <3

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08| 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |

masterlist | long way home masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

6 years ago

"My parents are never ever allowed to know that I own a dress like this."

Buying the dress in the mall already felt like a crime. But wearing it? You could be doing drugs right now and feel the same amount of guilt.

You tug the tight black dress down in a fruitless attempt to cover a little more of your bare thighs. You've been standing in front of the mirror in Jungkook's room for approximately 20 minutes.

"You're gonna stay at my place after the party?"

Jungkook's looks at you through the mirror from his place on the bed.

"No, my dad told me to come home." You turn around and point at the bag you brought. "I put some decent clothes in there to change in before I go home."

"Smart," Jungkook says, getting up from his bed. "Are we ready to go now?" Jungkook doesn't wear anything fancy. Simple pants with a simple black t-shirt. He doesn't need to put on specific clothing to look somewhat decent. Jungkook looks effortlessly handsome.

You run your fingers through your hair. "Uh, I think so?"

Jungkook sighs, stopping closer to you. "You look pretty. No need to be insecure."

"No I'm just..." You shrug.

"What?"

"Taehyung is going to be there as well, right?"

You don't wanna sound like you're still not over your ex, but that's exactly what you sound like.

"I mean, he's friends with Baekhyun so yeah, probably."

The thing is, everyone is friends with Baekhyun. You've got no clue who will be at his home party or not.

"I don't wanna see him."

"You're with me. Don't worry about it. It'll be fine. Jungkook grabs your hand, squeezes it. "You ready?"

"Is this okay?" You tug at the front of your black dress to cover your chest a little.

"You look pretty," Jungkook says, eyeing you up and down.

You grow shy under his gaze. "Stop doing that."

"What?" He draws his eyes back to your face.

"Complementing me like that." You crinkle your nose in feigned disgust.

Jungkook emits a laugh. "If you want me to tell you how ugly you look, just tell me next time."

You mouth falls open. "You think I'm ugly?"

"You'll probably be the prettiest girl at the party," Jungkook says, serious again.

"Probably?" you utter unconvinced.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and turns on his heels, leaving the room. "I'm starting to regret asking if you'd like to come along."

You stomp after him, taking big strides to keep with him. "Why'd you say probably?"

"You're a pain in the ass."

Don't worry. It'll be fine.

Jungkook's words ring through your mind as you lean against the couch and let your gaze wander over the crowded room.

You could be lying in your bed reading the new fantasy book you picked up yesterday is also a thought that's been plaguing you since you arrived.

When you got here you were really excited to have fun because everyone seemed so happy and nice and they were all dancing and drinking. You felt the excitement buzzing in you and were ready to have fun at your very first party.

But then, only a couple minutes after your arrival, this girl approached Jungkook and hasn't left his side since.

You don't wanna sound clingy, but Jungkook is the only one you know here. Your best friend Seulgi wasn't allowed to come because her parents didn't give her permission. It took an exhausting long time of pleading and sulking to get your parents' permission for Baekhyun's party. You were sad that Seulgi wouldn't come, but you still had Jungkook, so it was fine. Well, you thought it was fine.

Because now you're sitting here feeling like a third wheel while Jungkook and Hayun talk and laugh about whatever the hell it is they're talking about.

You haven't seen Taehyung yet. And hopefully it'll stay like this. Seeing Taehyung in school is inevitable but meeting him outside of school is weird. You know that Taehyung has been seeing other girls after he broke up with you. You saw him kissing a girl in the hallway. You'd like to say that you're over him as well but that'd be a big fat lie. When you love, you love big and you really liked - or like, you don't know, you're confused with your feelings - Taehyung. It's not easy for you to just surpress and forget your feelings.

But who knows. Maybe you'll meet a hot guy here and kiss him. That could become your thing.

"Y/n!" you hear someone shouting your name. You scan the room and find Baekhyun walking towards you. "I'm glad to see you here." He smiles widely and it immediately puts a smile on your face as well. "Jungkook." He holds his hand up and nods shortly to greet him. "You look really beautiful, by the way," Baekhyun compliments you.

Your smile grows wider. "Thanks."

Suddenly Baekhyun's holds his hand in front of you.

"Oh?" you stare at his hand before looking back up at him.

"You look bored. Lemme show you where to have fun."

You hesitate. You look at Jungkook and Hyuna next to you and yeah, you are bored.

When you set your gaze back at Baekhyun again, he winks. You try to supress a smile.

"Jungkook, I'm gonna-" he's not even looking at you, too immersed in whatever story Hyuna is telling him. You almost roll your eyes.

You take Baekhyun's hand. Doesn't matter where he takes you, anything is better than Jungkook right now.

Tumbling out of the room you realise for the first time that you're drunk.

And that you've got no clue how to get back to Jungkook.

You had a few drinks. A few too many. But Baekhyun kept bringing you something new and everything tasted so good. He is fun to be around. He introduced you to some people and frankly, you forgot all their names except for Chanyeol because...Chanyeol looked hot. And the names of hot guys stay in your little brain forever, no matter how much alcohol you've drunk.

You walk carefully down the stairs. Holding on to the banister not to trip over your feet.

"Y/n!" you hear Jungkook shouting from beneath. He takes two stairs at a time. "Where the fuck were you?" Jungkook asks, grabbing a hold of your arm to help you get down. He mumbles something under his breath about your heels.

"Was with Baekhyun" you answer and point back to where you emerged.

"Why didn't you answer your phone? I was fucking worried, y/n," he says when you're off the stairs.

"I'm sorry." You give Jungkook your puppy eyes and giggle when you see the his features gradually softening.

"Just stay by my side from now on, okay?"

"Mhm," you nod.

"What did you do? With Baekhyun?"

"He introduced me to some people." A little smile springs onto your face when you tell him, "You know Chanyeol? Really hot. I gave him my number."

Jungkook's jaw tightens. "Couldn't answer my call, but give dudes your number?"

"Priorities." You shrug. "Where's...?" What's her name again? You don't remember, but you're glad she's no longer clinging to Jungkook.

"I don't know where Hyuna is. I went to look for you and when I came back she wasn't there anymore."

Jungkook slides the strap of your dress, which must've slipped down, back onto your shoulder. "Are you okay?" He looks a little worried, staring into your eyes to make sure you're fine.

Oh.

He looks so pretty when he's so close to you.

When you don't answer, Jungkook puts his hand around your waist and leans down to have a better look at you.

Your heart stops beating for a moment. Jungkook carries stars in his eyes and you want to stare at them for the rest of your life.

"Jungkook?"

"Hm?"

You don't know why you said his name. He just looks so pretty right now.

"Can I..." You can't say anything to his face when he's so gorgeous.

"What?" he asks.

Can I kiss you?

But the words don't come past your lips, so you decide to take the easier way.

You cup Jungkook's face with your hands and stand on your tiptoes. With a hasty jerk forward, you press your lips to his.

Jungkook could have pulled out of reach, could have said something - but he did not. He simply tilted his head and moved his mouth against yours in a languid fashion.

His lips are so soft, the way they've always looked - the way you have always dreamed of.

First calm and tentative then fierce and bold. Jungkook's fingers digging into your waist as he tilts his chin up to you, eager and pressing, like this was something he had been dreaming of as well. The pressure intensified as he molded his lips to yours, as the fingers of his other hand wove into your hair.

You try to savour the moment because you know you'll miss it as soon as it's over. Jungkook's smell, his touches, the closeness, the intimacy. The slight sigh that escaped both your mouths once in a while, they way your lips needed a little practice before finding the right rhythm and angles. You wanted the moment to last for an eternity.

But then realisation started hitting you when you molded into Jungkook's broad chest and let your hands wander from his defined jaw to his fluffy hair, sighing into the kiss - a sigh that sounds awfully close to a moan.

You break the kiss, still lingering close to his mouth. Jungkook's laboured breathing touches your face and you slowly sink to your feet.

There are a lot of things going through your mind but the most prominent one is

I wanna keep kissing Jungkook forever.

Jungkook doesn't want to open his eyes.

He's afraid that if he opens them, he will find out that it was all a dream. That he will wake up in his bedroom and has another dream about you from which he wishes he would never wake up from.

But once he no longer feels the warmth of your body so close to his, he forces his eyes to open.

Your lips look plush and soft and Jungkook would kill to feel them on him again.

"Y/n?" Jungkook breathes. It was a simple kiss and yet it took his breath away.

Your gaze is fixed on something behind him. He turns his head and without having to search long, he immediately finds what you're staring at.

Taehyung is sitting on the couch - manspreading like the cocky bastard he is - a drink in his hand while the girl next to him he has his arm around, talks his ear off.

That explains the sudden kiss from you.

Jungkook's tongue prods the inside of his cheek when he turns back to you.

"Y/n," he repeats, hand on your shoulder to pull you back from your trance.

"Hm?" you say, finally looking at Jungkook after you've just conjured up dozens of butterflies in the pit of his stomach with your kiss.

"Why'd you kiss me?"

"Because I -" you hiccup "- wanted to."

Jungkook eyes furrow. "You're drunk." It's not a question, it's a statement. Finding out that the kiss only happened because you weren't thinking straight is just as much a slap in the face as if it turned out to be a dream.

You slowly shake your head. "I'm not," you claim, followed by another hiccup.

"How much did you drink?" He cups your cheeks with his hands.

You scrunch up your face and think really hard labout his question, but all that comes to your lips is "I dunno."

Jungkook sighs. He had been too overwhelmed by your sudden kiss to notice the taste of alcohol in your mouth.

"I gotta go back there." You point your thumb at the stairs behind you. "Baekhyun told me they baked cookies - no, brownies and I really need to try them."

"I'm gonna kill him," Jungkook whispers to himself as he grabs your wrist.

"You wanna try too?" An innocent smile lights up your face.

"We're going home. Now."

Your smile vanishes immediately. "But - I...the brownies, Jungkook. I can't leave before eating one. Baekhyun made them himself and said they're-"

"I can bake you brownies at home," he says, dragging you out of the house.

"You're the worst baker ever."

"I'm not that bad."

"Yes you are. Don't lie. I don't wanna eat brownies made by you."

"Stop whining and walk faster."

"Why are you hurrying? Slow down, I can't walk fast in these shoes," you complain.

"I need time to sober you up before I take you back to your house. Your dad would kill me if I brought you home like this." Jungkook opens the car door for you. "Get inside."

"I didn't get to say goodbye to Baekhyun," you grumble once the both of you are in the car.

"I seriously don't get what made you want to get fucking drunk." Jungkook starts the car. "I thought we both agreed not to drink?"

"Yeah, but then you left me alone." You struggle putting your seat belt on. Jungkook pushes your hands away and buckles you up. Your sweet perfume envelops him and for a short second fragments of the kiss play in his head.

Jungkook clears his throat. "I left you alone? You're the one who left with Baekhyun and left me fucking worried."

"Because you kept talking with that girl and completely ignored me."

"I didn't ignore you." Jungkook steers the car onto the road and drives to his place.

"Yeah, but once that girl started talking to you I was practi- practical-"

"Practically," Jungkook helps you.

"I was practically invisible to you." You huff and cross your arms over your chest like a little child.

"Remind me to never be around you again when you're drunk. You're insufferable."

Jungkook feels your stare. When he stops at a red light he tilts his head towards you. You're pouting. You look genuinely hurt.

"You're so mean." Your bottom lips start to tremble and Jungkook feels his heart growing all soft for you.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispers. Jungkook tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "Let's just get you sober and then I'll drive you home, hm?" You move your head in a tiny nod.

For a few minutes the car is complete silent. Jungkook appreciates the silence. It gives him time to sort out his thoughts, which have been all jumbled since he felt your lips on his. He wonders how long it'll take him to get over it. Because that's what he has to do. He has to get over it, because you didn't mean it. There was no other reason for your unpremeditated kiss than that you were drunk and bitter about your ex-boyfriend being with other girls. And Jungkook just happened to be at the right place at the right time.

Jungkook casts a brief glance at you. You're looking down at your lap, texting someone on your phone. Another side glance reveals that it's Chanyeol you're texting.

When you look up from your phone Jungkook forces his eyes back on the road, clearing his throat as he shifts in his seat.

"Jungkook?"

"Hm?"

"Uhh." You fiddle with your fingers. "Remember when I kissed you?"

Jungkook gulps. If he weren't so nervous about what you're going to say he'd be laughing at your silliness. How could he ever forget?

"Yup," he says tight lipped. "I remember that."

"So, like-" A hiccup interrupts you before you can continue. "I know it was probably stupid of me to just kiss you like that, but....I dunno I just wanted to-"

"Y/n." Your name falls from his lips in the softest way ever. "You don't need to explain yourself. I understand."

"You - you do?" He hears the astonished tinge in your voice.

"We're best friends, y/n. I don't need an explanation when you do silly things."

"We're best friends?" You sound dumbfounded and Jungkook wonders how many drinks you had while you were with Baekhyun.

"Yeah, we are, you goof."

"But I kissed you?"

"I know. And you're lucky I'm not mad at you, because kissing me was really the stupidest idea to get back at Taehyung."

It's silent again. Jungkook parks the car in the parking lot of the apartment building. You're looking out the window.

Jungkook doesn't know if he upset you, so he opens his mouth to speak but then you turn your head and say, "You think the kiss was stupid?"

"I mean, yeah, kind of. I bet Taehyung's still making out with that girl, so I guess the kiss didn't do anything." Jungkook is careful with his words. He feels like if he says one thing wrong and you'll start crying. Your feelings are all over the place.

"Why-" you blink a few times, a scowl setting on your face. "Why do you keep mentioning Taehyung? I didn't - you - it has nothing-" you huff frustrated when you don't find the right words. Throwing your head back on the seat you ask, "do you think we'll be best friends forever?"

A tiny smile tugs the corners of Jungkook's mouth upwards. "Probably. I hope so," he answers. "It's going to take a bit more than your weird actions to put me off."

"My actions aren't weird."

"If you would just stop acting on the irrational thoughts of your little brain we would all be better off." Jungkook taps his index finger against your head for emphasis.

"You're a meanie." You say as you look at Jungkook with furrowed brows.

"And you're acting like a pouty baby." Jungkook unbuckles your seat belt. "Let's go inside. Your dad is going to kill me if you show up this drunk."

"I'm not drunk!"

"You kissed me!" He yells as he takes his seat belt off. "I think that says enough?"

"Can we just-" you pause when you turn around too quickly in your seat. "Can we just forget about the kiss? It was stupid and I didn't think it through and you're right with everything."

"If you want to, yeah. We can do that."

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

"The kiss. I'm just now realising...it was really stupid. I'm stupid. I shouldn't have - I'm sorry."

Jungkook doesn't want to admit it, but your sudden apology and regret pulls at his heart and it hurts just the tiniest bit but it still makes him swallow to get rid of the lump in his throat.

"Shh, it's okay." Jungkook squeezes your bare thigh. "You don't have to worry. You're drunk and were a little confused. I'm not mad, honestly. Let's just never talk about it again, okay?"

"Never happened," you agree.

If Jungkook is completely honest, he hopes you're a little too drunk to even remember the kiss tomorrow.

The kiss messed with his mind - is still messing with his mind and feelings.

Jungkook likes you and doesn't want one stupid mistake to cost your friendship. He doesn't want it to get weird between you. And if the little kiss - well, if the little make out session was erased from your memory, it would be easier to pretend that nothing happened.

Because Jungkook truly doesn't know how to act unbothered around you when he enjoyed the kiss much more than he should have.

#jungkook fic #dilf!jungkook #bts fic #jungkook #jungkook f2l #jeon jungkook #bts imagine #bts fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine

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twogyuu · 1 year

Text

be here with me || ml

Pairing: Mark Lee x fem!reader

Synopsis:

And I keep saying okay (Okay) I never listen to my own heart I do whatever they say (They say) While looking like you're happy as hell (Oh, I) I really hope that you feel the same (Oh, I) Tonight

– 7PM, BooSeokSoon ft. Peder Elias

Alternatively: a series of events in one night that made Mark and you realize maybe you loved you each other more than a cherished childhood best friend.

Genre: Fluff with a good smattering of angst (DA NILE IS A RIVER IN EGYPT), crack, BFF-2-???, inspired by BBS's 7PM, clumsy heir!Mark, heir-to-normie!reader, struggling grad student!reader, secretary!Doyoung

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of food and alcohol, brief mentions of underage drinking, themes of social inequities, unhappy ending (kinda? up to reader interpretation), reader has long enough hair to be put in a bun

WC: ~8.9k

Taglist: @niinjo @dropsofletters @matchahyuck

A/N: A special thank you to @wooahaes for beta reading and keeping me company as I wrote my first Mark fic! 💙 In the words of Mark Lee, "This one's for you!" (and hopefully, he doesn't miss again 😭😂🏀🧺)

the playlist: anywhere but home (seulgi) >> 7pm (bss) >> sure thing (miguel) >> believe (paul blanco ft. crush) >> fallin' all in you (shawn mendes) >> with you (jimin and ha sungwoon) >> raise y_our glass (yunjin) >> abyss (woodz) >> cough (onew)

Winter was Mark’s least favorite season.

Winter meant shorter days. The sun barely peaked over the city skyline when he arrived at the office. Despite all the windows letting natural light into the building (his father’s insistence on creating an eco-friendly company), he hardly looked outside, busy tapping away on his desktop, eyes trained on screens with bland PowerPoints, or scrawling his signature on the umpteenth document with words that started to blend and blur together into streaks of black ink. When he left with his trusted secretary, Kim Doyoung, the glass building a seemingly lonely and empty ghost of the busy life it held during the day, the dark night sky with a heavy gray haze had swallowed the sun and he was greeted by with what he’d like to think were stars (they were just blinking airplanes and signal towers in the distance he’d come to learn as he got older). Seldom did he leave before his hundreds of employees and catch the last few rays of sun.

Winter meant the cold weather. His polyester suit sets already felt heavy on his thin frame. To have another layer and all the accessories that came with it was cumbersome. He had to watch how he turned his body so his wool coat wouldn’t accidentally take out a cup of coffee sitting on the table. He made a point to tuck his scarves into his chest, so the ends wouldn’t catch on the spinning doors of the entrance. He had an image to upkeep, which meant beanies that kept his head warm were not allowed for work attire. The tips of his ears would grow numb on the coldest days, just stepping out of his private car into the office. He felt bad for making Doyoung carry his leather shoes so he could change out of his snow boots while he was in the office.

There was one thing to look forward to in the winter though.

(Autumn, really.)

With winter, also came you: his childhood best friend.

Every year since the two of you were in high school, you’d spend your summers in Busan with your grandmother, helping her with her strawberry farm. In the fall, you’d return to the city for school, which also meant, Mark got to see you – when you weren’t busy with homework and your various part-time jobs, and him with his duties at his family’s company, that is.

Peering out his back tinted window of his black Genesis, his eyes skimmed across the other vehicles and their drivers sluggishly passing by. He wasn’t sure why, but traffic seemed to be stalling later than usual today. Most nights, Doyoung seemed to whiz down the highway without a problem.

A tired mother and her rambunctious daughter shouting and kicking in the carseat in the back. A taxi driver and a lonesome young boy sleeping on his seatbelt. An elderly woman with a fuzzy bucket hat pulled down over her eyes sitting in the front of the bus right behind the driver.

Despite the titles behind his name and the way his father’s business partners and employees praised and pampered him, Mark liked to think he wasn’t so different from all these people he was passing by on the drive. Life had its bright spots, but today was one of those seemingly dreary ones for everyone, glum and tired expressions painting their faces. It matched the dark, heavy gray clouds that loomed over the city.

Tugging at the knot of his tie loose, Mark shook his head and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to shake the fatigue off his eyes. He slumped forward, pressing his forehead into the cool glass, hoping the cold would jolt him awake like after a couple sips of an iced Americano and the caffeine started coursing through his veins. A patch of fog formed from his breath and Mark raised his hand to trace a childish smiley face in it. For no good reason other than it brought him the smallest amount of joy, his expression mirrored the doodle as he smiled lazily at it.

Sometimes, it felt satisfactory to just let things be and exist.

“We’ll arrive at the convenience store in about ten minutes, sir,” Doyoung announced from the front.

“We’re off duty,” Mark caught his secretary’s watchful eye in the rearview mirror, “I told you could just call me by my name when we’re not in office.”

Mark peered outside again, quietly counting the cars he passed like the seconds until he reached you.

“Right . . . Mark,” Doyoung huffed. “Sorry, force of habit." He cleared his throat, eyes flickering from the road back to his boss again. "Uh, but um . . .” his voice trailing off, blending with the car horns going off in the distance.

Mark knew he had more to say than announcing the ETA. He always did on nights like this – it was like clockwork at this point.

The older man glanced in the mirror again. He cleared his throat and asked, “Does your father know yet?”

Mark didn’t bother to look back up at him.

“No,” Mark replied curtly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, knowing well that a mini-lecture was coming. As great as Doyoung has been as a secretary, older brother figure, and a companion these past few years, he was a stickler for rules, structure, and tradition – something the two didn’t always see eye-to-eye on.

Doyoung sighed, shaking his head slightly. “You do know you know this . . . arrangement between you and Miss Y/L/N is only going to hurt you in the long-run, right? Your father –”

“‘Would be very upset with you associating yourself with anyone with ties to the fallen CEO of Choi Electronics, especially the former heiress, herself,’” Mark cut him off, quoting his secretary. It was not anything new – Mark knew this lecture like the Queen Mab monologue from Romeo and Juliet he was forced to memorize in high school: boring and long, but dramatic when it came from other people.

He continued, “‘It’s not good for your reputation if this gets out you’re still seeing her’ – I know,” he looked up at the rearview mirror again, a bored look in his eyes. “I know, but I can’t just . . . let her go like that. Not yet, at least; she’s . . . been my best friend since forever.”

“Mark,” Doyoung warned, though there was a hint of sympathy in his tone. Doyoung has been around long enough to know how fond the young heir was of you. Being one of the few children in the elite corporate world, the two of you were quick to befriend one another, becoming attached at the hip before anyone could blink. Despite the way your friendship waxed and waned as the two of you grew older, at the end of the day, you’d always find one another, some way, somehow.

The fall of your family name a few years ago didn’t seem to break that habit.

Doyoung knew, none of it was your fault. You didn’t deserve any of the misfortune that you had faced and were coming your way when you finished graduate school. You were merely a collateral piece of a larger, cruel game.

“It’s not my intention to guilt trip you, but do keep in mind, this is . . . much bigger than just you,” Doyoung sucked in a shaky breath. “If this goes downhill, she might get hurt – a lot more than you.”

Though Mark didn’t reply, the way his eyes dropped to his limp hands in his lap was enough to give Doyoung the slightest ember of hope that deep down, Mark knew. On the surface innocent meet up between friends, but the weight of the situation felt like a firework lit aflame, the wick starting to burnout towards the blunt and explode.

The facts were plain ans simple: the two of you were childhood best friend.

However, the media had a way of twisting facts into truths for the public.

If he was being honest, it was guilt, and perhaps justice, that gave Doyoung the will to bring Mark to meet you at least once per week. As much as his father pushed it and as much as he tried to hide it, Mark had never quite settled into his role as the future CEO of NCity, Inc. If Doyoung could characterize Mark, he was like a mural on the side of buildings in Hongdae: hidden, yet loud, colorful, and bright. He was clumsy and bluntly outspoken, speaking his mind and curiosities at the wrong times though with good intentions. This predestined career path forced him into a plain and gray box that veiled the majority of his personality. He grew hesitant of his words and thought twice before acting. Every now and then, you’d see flecks of his quirkiness that charmed the company staff and board of executives, but that was all that was allowed.

As fond as Mark was of you, Doyoung was just as fond of Mark, but in the sense of a younger sibling. Though he rooted for Mark’s success as the future CEO, there was a piece of him who also wanted the young man to be happy. From Doyoung’s perspective, happiness always seemed to stem from you. If he could give Mark just that much, Doyoung would risk breaking the rules.

The neon green, red, and white sign of the convenience store you worked at spilled into the interior as the vehicle neared. To a bystander, the black Genesis felt out of place in this neighborhood. The buildings were short and small, but cramped against one another. Small alleys offered uneven stone paths to travel between them. The concrete was cracked, the decade old coat of paint was chipped nearly bare. Dogs howled in the distance and a few construction workers, their cheeks stained with dust and soot, were seated outside the convenience store on the picnic tables enjoying ramen from white plastic cups and cheap soju, slurping at the noodles and moaning in satisfaction like it was a five-course dinner.

Doyoung parked the car at his usual spot: on the side of the hill leading up to the store, where Mark could see you, but you could just barely see the head of the car. Mark’s face visibly lit up as craned his neck to catch you smiling and handing change over to a middle-aged woman. He wondered if the woman was a regular customer who you were friendly with, based on the way you laughed at something she said and excitedly waved ‘good-bye.’ Loose strands of hair fell out of your bun as you bowed, your expression gradually falling to a calm when the women left and you returned to organizing chocolate bars at the side counter.

[Mark]: Dark or milk chocolate?

[Mark]: Grab one for me if it’s milk chocolate – employee discount pls :P

He peered out the window, watching your reaction.

Your phone buzzed, halting you in your task to fish it out of your back pocket to swipe at the screen and read the message. There was a moment of surprise that flashed across your face, quickly followed by a soft smile. You spun around, shielding your eyes and squinting out into the dark to try and make out his car.

You must’ve seen the black Genesis – your smile only grew as you turned back to your phone, tapping away at your screen.

“She’s coming,” Mark confirmed aloud.

Mark unbuckled his seat belt and fumbled with the loose knot around his neck. He hastily pulled off his tie and haphazardly threw it onto another seat and pulled on his trench coat. Folding the collar down and patting away any wrinkles, he quickly turned to Doyoung. The young man excitedly slapped the driver’s seat twice as if the older man already didn’t have his attention.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, bro! You can go home – I’ll get back on my own,” Mark explained.

“Mark–”

“Don’t wait up!” he waved Doyoung off, clambering out of the car.

You were already walking down the steps. Your faded yellow vest was traded in for your black puffer jacket. A white plastic ‘THANK YOU’ bag hung on your forearm, presumably containing the chocolate bar Mark asked for, amidst other snacks you got for free from time to time. You were trying your best to keep cool, but Doyoung could tell you were beaming. There was an extra pep in your stride and your lips were pressed into a tight line, but it looked funny because you were trying to suppress a grin.

“You’re here,” you greeted him. You stopped a landing above Mark, clasping your hands together in front of you. You rocked on your heels, your composure slipping, letting the corner of your lip quirk up at the way he looked at you. His dark orbs were wide, reflecting the LED lights of the convenience store behind you. Unlike you, he didn’t try to hide his excitement, a grin spreading across his face.

“I’m here!” Mark sang. Immediately, his arms flew open, welcoming you for a hug.

You rolled your eyes, but continued to descend towards him, settling to his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. The plastic of the convenience store bag crinkled and crackled between the two of you. Your cheeks already hurt from smiling so much. Though you saw each other frequently enough (though at strange hours), Mark was always a breath of fresh air in your routine; the warmth of the fire on a cold winter day.

“God, I missed you,” he muttered, his voice muffled.

“It’s only been a week,” you retorted.

“Still too long.”

Just as you scoffed, the honk of the car behind Mark tore your attention from one another. You turned to see that Doyoung had rolled down the window giving you both stern, knowing looks.

Doyoung was more than happy to arrange for the two of you to see each other at these hours, but he had two rules: (1) Don’t draw attention to yourselves and (2) stay safe.

“Be careful,” Doyoung warned. He turned to Mark, “Let me know when you get back, okay?”

Mark nodded and shooed him off.

“Why are you sending him away?” you exclaimed, peering over his shoulder as Doyoung drove away. “No Doyoung today?”

Sometimes the older man joined the both of you – as a good friend rather than a secretary. You all grew up together after all.

“Just you and me,” Mark sighed, letting you go. “We have a flight and long day tomorrow – he wants to prep.”

“Flight?” you frowned. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Milan,” he replied, “New business partners – dad wants to establish a holding in Europe.”

“Mark, you should’ve told me.”

“I want to be here,” he remarked. “I’ll be fine! Let’s just . . . enjoy the night. “You and me – quality alone time. It’ll be fun. I need it.”

“Ew,” you wrinkled your nose jokingly, “Don’t say it like that – you sound greasy.”

“But I do!” he scoffed. Hands stuffed in his coat pockets, he bumped your shoulder playfully. “I need it, it’s been a long week.”

“Company drama?”

He kicked at the invisible pebbles along the pavement and nodded. “It feels like a whole k-drama sometimes. He said this, she said that, you should go on this blind date."

You ignored the way your heart ached for him. As glamorous as it seemed on the surface, what lied underneath was complicated and overwhelming – it was like a knot unwilling to untie itself. With a heavy sigh, you nodded and turned to link arms with him. You led him down the street. Mark’s footing faltered at first, but was quick to fall in sync with your own.

“You know what tea is best served with?” you asked, staring up at the sky.

“Um,” Mark furrowed his brows together in confusion. “Honey biscuits?”

You jokingly shot him a disapproving look at his answer.

“Mrs. Jung’s spicy noodles.”

. . . .

The walls were thin – quite literally.

Only a faded blue tarp with an opening that flapped in the winter breeze defended the customers from the cold. Round metal tables were scattered inside, customers were scattered, seated on multi-colored plastic stools, sniffling and slurping on steaming bowls of noodles. There were no barriers between the kitchen and the seating area. A grill sizzling with meat and pots boiling on a fire stove greeted visitors. Spice and the smell of smoke wafted freely over the stainless steel edges, settling in the crevices of people’s coats and sweaters. The scrape of metal tools against one another clanged loudly and thwarted conversations, forcing people to shout to hear each other. Every now and then, Mark would bend over the table and ask loudly, “What was that again?!”

Mrs. Jung’s noodle shop was a street restaurant Mark and you stumbled upon in high school. You both were coming home from your first day of cram school – the “elite” one your mothers had tittered about just weeks before. It was in a part of the city neither of you were particularly familiar with and putting full faith in your navigation skills, Mark willingly followed you off three stops too early from home. Eventually, Mark ended up reaching out for his mother’s driver to rescue the two of you, but while waiting, you both grew hungry waiting and wandering around. Unfortunately, you only had 1248 won worth of money pooled together from the depths of your pockets – couldn’t even afford triangle kimbap at the 7/11 nearby.

Taking pity on the two of you, Mrs. Jung offered the both of you dinner on-the-house – apparently, you reminded her of her daughter who had left for university a few months ago. Since then, Mark and you made a point to visit at least once a month (with adequate funds, of course). You were especially regular customers during the depths of finals season, when you clung onto your last brain cells and hardly had the time or energy to cook.

Despite the less than luxurious conditions he was accustomed to, Mark liked dining here most. He felt at ease, like no one was watching. It was just him and his best friend, enjoying a simple meal under the stars (or so he’d like to imagine there were in this hazy city). It didn’t matter if he had sauce on his face. He could slouch, snort at a stupid joke, and slap his knee when someone said something funny.

“So,” you started as you leaned over, placing the last slice of beef in his bowl, “How was the blind date?”

Mark stopped mid-chew and peered up at you, harshly swallowing down the wad of rice in his mouth.

You sat back and waited attentively.

“Blind date?” he asked slowly as if he didn’t know what you were asking.

You nodded. “The one with the heiress of Jung Cosmetics – He . . . Hera? I think was her name? Her parents named her after the Greek goddess.”

“Ah, right,” Mark sniffled, returning to his food. He wondered why you were suddenly interested about it. “Hera – it was fine.”

“Did you like her?”

Mark paused mid-bite and glanced at you again. “She was fine.”

“Fine as in ‘she’s so fine’ or like fine as in she’s ‘meh’?”

“She was alright,” Mark explained, shoving the soft noodles in his mouth. “Didn’t like her, but didn’t hate her.”

“So . . . you wouldn’t marry her?” you asked.

He looked at you strangely, but answered you nonetheless. “No – I don’t think so.”

He faked a cough, hoping to change the subject, but he wasn’t sure what.

"So . . . uuuhhh," he wiggled his shoulders back and forth, eyes trained on a Sharpie stain on the table, refusing to look at you. "How about you? Meet any boys yet?”

Immediately, you scoffed and scowled at him.

Mark peered up at you playfully, dipping his spoon in his broth. “What?”

“Mark Lee.”

He raised a hand in surrender. “Hey, innocent question – you asked me, so I ask you. Plus, you’re cute, people are looking,” he shrugged, “And it’s university – according to Jeno, that’s like . . . the hot soup recipe for dating and all, ya know?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at his stupid analogy, pretending as if your heart didn’t skip a beat at his unintentional compliment. This wasn’t the first time and if anything, it was a term of endearment.

“Hot like this soup!” Mark exclaimed. “Well, was – it’s kind of lukewarm now.”

"You know I don't have time for dating, Mark," you grumbled.

Despite what he just told you, he blew at the broth on his spoon as if it was scalding hot and inhaled the liquid.

Within seconds, his eyes widened in horror as something caught in the wrong pipe. His lips pursed momentarily as he tried to keep his mouth shut to swallow whatever was left and prevent himself from spraying you. Mark finally started coughing up a fit, pounding at his chest. He turned away from you, covering his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh my god, you idiot – are you okay?” you asked.

“Hot!” he repeated in between coughs.

“About to be on your deathbed and you’re still on about that stupid joke,” you grumbled. Though you sounded upset, the way you adjusted yourself to hover over him suggested different.

“No!” Mark waved. “The broth was hot!”

“You said it was lukewarm?”

“Hot! Spicy! I choked on a pepper flake or something!” he stuck out his tongue and fanned it.

“Oh,” you settled back down in your seat.

You paused momentarily before the pieces clicked. You reached into your plastic bag, pulling out a short bottle of banana milk and handing it over to him.

“Here,” you pressed the drink into his hand.

He peered down at it curiously then back to you. “You sure?”

“Of course,” you chirped.

“It’s yours though.”

“I have more,” you fibbed. You split a pack of three with your coworkers earlier, each person getting one. You made a point to pull off the straw wrapped in clear plastic and puncture the top. “Drink,” you pushed it towards him. “It’ll help with the spice.”

Mark finally complied, taking a long sip. He let out a small sigh of satisfaction when he pulled his lips off with a pop. His eyes flickered from the drink to you.

“What?” you asked bluntly.

He giggled to himself like a drunk, shaking his head. “It’s been forever since I’ve had banana milk, you know?”

“When was the last time you had some?” you asked.

“High school,” he reminisced, “When Chenle bought all that alcohol and snuck it into our hotel rooms on the school trip? I woke up hungover and you gave me one saying it’d cure it.”

Your eyes widened in horror at the memory, causing Mark to laugh even harder.

"I . . . lied about that," you told him, monotonously.

"No shit," he took another sip, "But I believed you and still drank a full eight pack."

"It's all I could afford from the 7/11!" you defended yourself.

"Lying about this helping with spice now too?" he ignored your comment.

"I'm a little more skilled in the art of drinking and hangovers now that I'm older, thank you," you turned your face back down to your noodles to ignore him.

Mark snickered, relishing in the memory. Even though he felt like shit and probably a whole lot of work for you taking care of him, it was a pleasurable moment for Mark – a time when things were simpler and not much mattered.

Simple.

Like now.

These were small bits of his life he liked to keep close to his heart.

First hangovers, banana milk overdoses, and all.

. . . .

“I got this for you, by the way.”

Mark waved a small black gift box tied with a pink bow in front of your face as the two of you were exiting Mrs. Jung’s noodle shop. You stopped abruptly in your tracks, rapidly blinking at the item in your line of vision.

You wondered why you hadn’t noticed it before. It was simple, but the pink bow was hard to miss. Was he holding it all along? It was no bigger than his hand – you figured he might have put it in the pockets inside his coat, which is why you didn’t see it.

Your eyes flickered to him, though not with the excited expression he was hoping for. Contrary to his own bashful yet teasing and excited smile, your brows were furrowed together, a small frown tugging at the corner of your lips.

Eyes beaming, Mark shook the box gently – just enough to hear a quiet rattle inside the box.

“Mark, what did I say about gifts?” you sighed, pushing his hand down.

“Y/N,” he dragged on the last syllable of your name, “C’mon – please!”

“I thought we agreed ‘no gifts’ – unless it was the holiday or our birthdays?” you reminded him.

Mark was quick to press the box into your hands, wrapping his own around yours as to secure it and not let it fall to the ground. Your breath hitched a little at sudden touch and the warmth that encased your hands. You hadn’t expected him to be so . . . “aggressive” about this.

“I wanted to – for you,” Mark insisted.

You frowned, unconvinced.

Mark knew you didn’t like gifts – especially from him after your father lost his position at the company. He couldn’t completely understand it, but he knew enough that it lied within a feeling of guilt and discomfort. You didn’t want to feel like some charity project. On that same note, you didn’t want to be a burden to your childhood friend. After all, it was partially his father’s doing for what happened to your family.

The milieu surrounding your friendship of over twenty years was not the most ideal – not that it was either of your faults. A part of you always wondered if he still only hung around because he pitied you. You felt bad for even having such a thought – Mark had been so kind and understanding of you all these years. However, you couldn’t help, but question it when most have abandoned you. You didn’t dare push him away for you held onto the small sliver of hope that maybe he wasn’t like that.

To lose him was a reality you didn’t want to know. .

“Take it,” Mark pushed the gift closer to your chest. He took a step back. “If not for you,” he pointed to himself, “For me.”

Though you only answered with a heavy sigh, the reluctance evident in the way your shoulders slumped and your arms fell to your side, you took it nonetheless. You flipped it over in your hand, studying it with your eyes and examining it with your finger pads, grazing across the smooth velvet material of the box.

“Open it,” Mark urged.

You looked up at him again, feeling nervous.

He only nodded at you, gesturing with his hand for you to do so. He wanted to see your reaction.

You caved – never had you seen someone so excited to see another person open a gift before. Gently, you started pulling at the pink ribbon, the satin cool and smooth under the pads of your fingers. With ease, it slipped off – its once pretty and neat form now collapsed into a lifeless thread. Pulling off the lid and pushing aside the white tissue paper, a small beige wallet with cushion-style stitches and gold painted metal clasp sat inside.

Your eyes widened in surprise, your mind immediately flashed to last week’s outing when the two of you had gone window shopping after hours when all the storefronts had grown dim and the doors were locked.

“ That’s so ugly,” Mark giggled, his mouth half-full with red bean bungeoppang.

“I like it,” you insisted, reluctantly turning away from the glass display, the wallet sitting on a sterile white stand surrounded by purses and backpacks of similar styles. You joined him, continuing down the sidewalk.

The streets were quiet at this time of night. Nearly silent enough that you could hear each other’s breath and the click of your shoes against the pavement. Only a few lonely souls walked the streets, phones pressed to their ear as they chatted with their loved ones, hurrying to the comfort of their own home. The street lamps lit your pathway, casting a soft orange glow across everything, your shadows were long and slanted, accompanied by that of trees.

“It looks like something my grandma would use,” Mark tried to explain. He handed the bungeoppang over to you for a bite. The wax paper crinkled under his hold.

“Your grandmother is a woman of good taste!” you retorted.

“Is she?” Mark asked, thinking back to her last outfit choice at the art gala downtown. It was a bright pink business suit – she almost looked like she was a piece of artwork instead of the paintings and sculptures instead.

He threw one last look over his shoulder. Indulging in your treat, you failed to notice the way his eyes lingered a while longer, making a mental note of the store name.

“It’s classy,” you huffed. “Simple with sophisticated detailing.”

“Whatever you say,” he muttered.

Roughly, you handed the treat over to him, nearly wacking him in his chest. Unfortunately, Mark wasn’t fast enough to catch it; the bungeoppang slipped out of the wax paper and splattered onto the sidewalk.

“Dude!” you both groaned at the same time.

“Mark–”

“Ah!” he raised a finger at you, already anticipating your protest. “I don’t wanna hear anything except ‘thank you, Mark.’”

You closed your mouth, pressing your lips together. Your hands tightened around the small wallet, suddenly feeling heavy in your hands.

Once upon a time, goods like this were a ‘given’ to you – if you wanted it, you could have it. Not to say that you were a spoiled brat and received everything at a snap of your finger, but you didn’t have to think twice about the cost of it. It’s funny how things you once took for granted were now a privilege to even hold like this.

“Don’t think too much about it,” Mark finally said, breaking the silence. Hands stuffed in his pants pocket, he took another step closer to you, knowing your mind was reeling with thousands of questions, your heart twisted in every which way. He wrapped his hand around yours again, giving you a firm squeeze. “It’s alright to want it . . . to have it, to be given it.”

Sometimes, you hated the way he was so generous.

Sometimes, you hated how he knew you so well – even more than yourself.

. . . .

“Doyoung’s getting married at the end of summer.”

You stopped pumping your legs and let them drag against the pile of wood chips underneath you as you drifted backwards on your swing, skidding to a halt. The two of you stumbled upon an empty playground nearby, opting to loiter around and found yourselves on the swingset. Your bones creaked a little too much for the jungle gym and the seats of the seesaw were much too small for either of you.

Your jaw fell slack at the sudden news – it wasn’t bad news. It was actually really good news given what you’ve heard about Doyoung’s special romantic situation throughout the last couple years in passing. Though you wished your reaction could have been happier, it was the reality of the circumstances that made your heart feel heavy.

This was the first time you were hearing about Doyoung’s wedding. You had figured that if they already had a date set, that meant the plans were in process: invitations were made, venues were picked, wedding dresses and tuxes were tried, cakes were tasted, and seating charts had been laid out.

Yet you heard none of it.

You wondered why Doyoung and Mark had kept this from you on purpose on the few occasions you’ve met over the past few months or so. The last you heard about him and his partner was simply that Doyoung thought she was “the one” and thinking about getting engaged.

Perhaps they forgot to tell you about it with the new business deals and product launches Mark had talked about over dinner?

But was the answer really that simple? It was a wedding after all – one of the biggest events in a person’s lifetime.

You hoped they had good intentions, but the fact was you were no longer a part of their world despite your years of friendship and history together. It was as if the pluck of your dad’s name plaque at his office desk and you were suddenly a distant commoner among the crowds watching kings from aways on their pedestal. Of course, these kinds of affairs are never done without family politics. As lovely as she was, Doyoung’s mother was superficial – her only son’s wedding had to be pristine and fairytale perfect. You could only imagine the number of renowned names on the guest list, including Mark’s family.

If that was the case, you were on the blacklist.

There was a time where your parents were on the list of VIP guests – and you were dragged along. Not only weddings, but birthday parties, graduations, retirements – rich people always found a reason to celebrate. Then, Mark and you were twelve you were pesky wedding guests, trying your best to sit still for once while brides and grooms walked down the aisles, eyes wandering to the cake, your minds wondering about the dinner and the music selection for tonight.

You always knew, but with Doyoung being the first one to go, you realized you were getting to that age of business “proposals” and marriage. Now you wondered what twelve-year-olds would be watching Mark walk down the aisle.

When?

And with who?

You couldn’t put a finger on why, but your heart ached a little at the thought.

“T-that’s great,” you said softly, you looked away from Mark. “Congrats to them – really,” you choked out a half-hearted chuckle, “it was a very long time coming.”

Only the wind answered you. It nipped at the tip of your nose as if to tease you and seeped through the openings of your outerwear, sending chills down your spine. Your mind spiraling with questions that you didn’t have the answer to (or rather didn’t want to know the answer to), you failed to notice the longing and wistful expression on your companion’s face as he stared off into dimly lit streets.

“Do you ever think about us?” Mark finally blurted.

You whipped your head towards him. “Us?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, still refusing to look at you. “Like . . . when we’re going to get married.”

When we’re going to get married.

His last few words echoed in the chambers of your mind. Of course, the practical part of you knew that he meant when you were going to get married – separately. Him with someone else and you with someone else.

Yet for some reason, the way he said it, his tone laced with sincerity, made you want to believe he meant otherwise.

“Y-you and me?” you asked to confirm.

“Yeah,” he replied, drawing out the word.

You didn’t think he was understanding your question.

“No, no, no – as in . . . like,” you sucked in a shaky breath, “You with me?”

Finally, he tilted his head to look at you. You could hardly make out his eyes in the dim lighting, only remnants of the streetlamp slipping though the bare trees and past the jungle gym, reflecting off his face. However, perhaps it was for the better as the way his eyelids hung heavy made you nervous. It did not appear “heavy” in a sense that he was tired, but that mix of giddiness and bittersweet look of nostalgia that some people got when they were drunk.

Mark didn’t have any alcohol tonight though.

Could it be . . .?

He smiled cheekily, resting the side of his head on his thumb wrapped around the chain holding up the swing.

“You? Wanna marry me?” he asked.

“Mark,” you huffed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“If Doyoung and Emmy are enemies to lovers, we could be childhood friends to lovers,” Mark teased. He let out a heinous cackle, sounding like one of those hyenas in Lion King.

“Mark,” you gritted your teeth.

“I’m kidding!” he chuckled. “Geez, calm down – would it be that bad to get married to me?”

You didn’t answer him, pretending you didn’t hear his question and started pumping your legs again.

“What kind of story trope do you think your love life is gonna be like?” he continued to muse. “I think I’m an enemies to lovers kind of guy too.”

“If that was the case, you would’ve loved Hera already,” you remarked.

“Nah,” he shook his head, shoving his hands into his trench coat. “Didn’t hate her enough the first time.”

“Mark,” you whined, accompanied by an annoyed chortle. You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics sometimes. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Ey,” he got up from his swing and stood a safe distance from you. You weren’t moving that fast, granting him the chance to punch you softly in the shoulder when you swung by. “I’m just pondering and trying to make conversation.”

“Let’s talk about something else?”

“Okay,” he paused. “I’m curious – who was your first love?”

“Mark Lee,” you groaned.

“I think you’re a first love kind-of-girl,” he rambled on. “I know your first kiss was Haechan – gross, by the way, but your first love. I don’t think you ever told me.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “There’s a reason why I never told you.”

His interest piqued, Mark grabbed onto the chains holding up your swing, bringing you to a halt, nearly knocking foreheads with him. For the second time that night, your breath hitched, your faces so close to one another. He was too close for comfort – too close for best friends. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes – one that you don’t think you could handle for too long, tearing your gaze to the side. Unfortunately, he was quick to adjust his position and tilt his head to maintain eye contact with you. You couldn’t help but notice the way your lips were a finger-width away apart, and if you just tilted your chin up – god, you shouldn’t even be thinking about kissing him right now.

You let your hands slide down away from his own, tightening your grip around the rusted metal, somehow, finding solace in the way the rough and uneven surface of the metal dug into your palms. You let out a shaky breath and broke eye contact with him once more.

"H-Haechan," you replied softly.

Silence.

“My first love,” you cleared your throat and continued a little more confidently, “Was Haechan.”

Your answer came a beat late – enough to tell Mark that it was a lie. His lips quirked up, eyes still trained on you.

“I knew it,” he whispered, equally quiet, a hint of melancholy in his tone.

The delicate moment was suddenly interrupted by his Super Mario ringtone, his device vibrating violently in his pocket.

You let out a small, shaky breath and turned away – Mark noted the way your feet stuttered, pushing your swing to the left, further away from him in an attempt at courtesy of letting him take his call.

Cursing under his breath, he fished his phone out of his pocket and swiped at the screen.

Kim Doyoung.

However, rather than answering it right away, he stared at the name flashing across the screen. The green ‘answer’ button and the red ‘ignore’ button pulsed with each vibration, urging him to make a choice before Doyoung hung up or was sent to voicemail. It reminded him of the Matrix when Neo had to make a choice between the red pill and the blue pill.

Did Mark want to continue living in the reality he was born into?

Or to feign ignorance and live in the bliss you gave to him?

He knew if the older man called this late at night, nothing good would come out of it. He could come up with multiple scenarios right now: An emergency at work. Perhaps his father had found out and was furious, urging him to come home.

Or worse, the reporters and paparazzi.

Mark chose the latter.

He swiped at the ‘ignore’ button and readjusted the volume to mute all notifications.

Was it such a crime to crave happiness? Even if it was just for a minute? An hour? An evening?

“Let’s get out of here,” Mark said, breathlessly. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and stood up to face you, a strained smile stretching across his face.

His footsteps stopped when he was just a few inches from you, the toes of your shoes nudging against one another.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?” you asked.

He shook his head, extending a hand out to you.

“But it could be important,” you protested, your grip slipping off the chains.

“I promised,” Mark replied, “Just you and me tonight.”

You seemed unconvinced, however.

Mark let out a heavy breath, taking your hand in his own and gently tugged you off the swing. It didn’t take much – it’s not like you were trying to resist.

There was that sense of guilt surging in your chest again, but you tried your best to ignore it as Mark took off in a jog.

Though it was never said, you both knew, neither of you wanted this night to end just yet.

. . . .

It’s funny, isn't it?

When the two of you were no more than five, reaching for his hand, and him yours, was second nature – no questions, no hesitations about it. Whether it was him seeking your comfort after being chased by Renjun on the playground or you merely trying to catch up with him after seeing him down the red carpet at yet another lavish event, your chubby fingers would interlock like two adjacent puzzle pieces snapping in place.

It was comfortable. It was easy. It was fun. It was friendship. It was love – not romantic, but something innocent and untainted.

Yet as the two of you grew older and you were introduced to the concept of "cooties" at the end of first grade, unknowingly he and you slowly began to unlearn the habit of linking hands when you were with each other. It started when Jaemin teased you for holding Mark’s hand during a game of hide-and-seek. This was the first moment you were quick to let go of him under the watchful eyes and mocking snickers of your classmates. As second grade started, you grew bashful and more hesitant to keep doing so. With the two of you being in separate classrooms, however, it made the process easier and neither of you questioned it. Rather than at school, you’d find yourself falling back into old habits at company dinners where the two of you were bored and ran off to play, or when his father brought him over during a meeting with your parents.

However, these moments became less and less frequent until it was nothing.

The rule was simple and it had finally solidified when the two of you were ten.

Boys and girls didn’t hold hands.

Therefore, neither did you and Mark.

It was an unspoken agreement and has remained so until this day.

It didn’t faze you when he offered a hand earlier – the adrenaline and euphoria overtaking your consciousness and your senses to think properly, you willingly took his hand and ran wherever he wanted to lead you. However, when the fleeting and short-lived emotions had passed and you had fallen from cloud nine like a rain drop from a heavy gray cloud, your nerves were starting to get the better of you. Even if it was something so normal when you were children, it’s why now, even the ghostly brush of his fingers against the back of your hand brought heat to your ears and made your throat constrict as you stood next to Mark, shoulder-to-shoulder on a train to Cheomdangdong.

Bellies full and conversations fell quiet, but unwilling to part ways, the you both decided along the way for one last walk along the Han River. Having sent his driver home, there was no way to get to the other side of the city, except by train. Mark scanned his neon orange metro pass for the first time in months for a ride in comparison to your worn and scratched green one that you used daily.

The evening rush hour had long passed. Your cart was fairly empty sans the elderly businessman dozing off in the corner and the few bleary-eyed high school students in crumpled navy and white uniforms with Airpods jammed in their ears, returning home from cram school. There were an abundance of seats for either of you to sit, yet Mark and you opted to stand, holding onto the worn velvet straps tied around the stainless steel poles.

Only the rhythmic chugging of the train wheels rolling across the rusted tracks, rushed through your ears. The silence that settled between the two of you was comfortable, but the growing tension was deafening – at least to you.

You wondered if he felt the same.

When the train halted at the second to last stop on the line, the sterile white doors hissing open, he and you trickled out with the last few passengers into the dreary tunnel. Perhaps your steps were too wary and slow, hoping to fall in sync with Mark’s, because the elderly businessman was suddenly wide awake and hastily squeezed his way between you and the door, pushing you into your best friend. Reflexively, his arm came up to wrap around your shoulder, turning and pressing closer into his body, while the man grunted something under his breath before taking off in a speed walk down the strip.

It didn’t quite hit you, the position the two of you were in until Mark muttered, “Geez . . . asshole. Where does he have to go this late at night anyways?”

You turned in his hold and leaned away to look at him. Your best friend scowled at the stranger’s figure fading in the distance.

As if on cue, he peered down at you. He shifted his hands onto your shoulders, eyes scanning up and down your figure.

“You okay?” he asked, finally catching your gaze. Though it wasn’t his fault, he offered you what looked like an apologetic smile.

It wasn’t a rough shove, but Mark figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

You nodded, muttering, “It’s fine.”

Letting out a small breath, you readied yourself to take off towards the stairs that led to the streets and took a step or two backwards. Mark’s hands slipped off your shoulders, one of them falling a little faster than the other, just in time to graze against one of your own, sending heat to your ears again – though you tried your best to ignore the steam that were probably coming out of your ears out of embarrassment.

He was your childhood best friend for heaven’s sake.

Yet this time, instead of just letting it be like on the train, Mark didn’t let the opportunity pass this time. He was quick to lurch for your swinging hand, encasing it in his own. He feigned ignorance and courage, not paying mind to the look of shock and terror that flashed across your features. He gave your hand a small squeeze, marching forward into the night, not daring to let go.

Rather than looking forward, you continued to look at him, searching his face for any hint of anger or regret – any reason that would explain why he would suddenly hold your hand like this.

No, it was far from scandalous. It wasn’t like he kissed you unprompted or planned on taking you home to warm his bed.

Nonetheless, this seemingly familiar act from your childhood felt taboo and wrong. Something that once felt like two puzzle pieces fitting together, now felt like putting a spherical block through a square hole.

He was Mark Lee of NCity, Inc and you were Y/N Y/L/N of rented, tattered textbooks and the less than quarter full tip jar at the alley convenience store.

As hard as you looked, however, Mark’s nonchalant expression didn’t budge. Eventually, to avoid tripping on the stairs, you forced yourself to divert your eyes.

Only then, did his lips quirk into a small, gentle smile for a split second.

For tonight, he wanted it to be simple.

Just Mark Lee and Y/N Y/L/N. No titles, no obligations. Just childhood friends enjoying the little time that remained of the fleeting night, slipping through your fingers.

. . . .

Water lapped gently against the shore as Mark and you walked along the Han River in blissful silence. The half-moon casted a pearl-like glow across the waters, turning it blue. You’d like to imagine the two of you looked like you were silhouettes in the distance stuck in the Starry Night Monet painting. Black shadows blending into the night – seemingly unimportant to the critical eye.

Mark’s fingers still woven with your own, the weight and the warmth of his hold grew familiar and comfortable with each step. It was as if he were imprinting himself in your own hand, and yours, his. You’d both catch each other’s eye every now and then, only exchanging soft smiles before continuing your way to no end. No words were exchanged, but the both of you knew, the feelings, whatever they were, were there, wrapping around the both of you and settling on your shoulders like a fleece blanket on a cold evening. Friendship, love – you weren’t sure if you could even label whatever it was between the two of you, whether it be in the past, right now . . . what would be.

Tonight, however, selfishly, you just wanted to indulge in this moment: where it was just you, him, and the Han River. There were no expectations, no roles that neither of you needed to fill.

Though it seemed like the two of you were walking for hours, when the ring of your phone interrupted the peace, it felt like minutes cut short.

“Don’t,” Mark warned as you halted in your steps, already reaching into your coat pocket to grab for your phone.

The device, untouched for the past hour or so, felt cool against your fingers as you looked up at him.

“It could be important,” you muttered. “It could be my parents or my younger brother.”

“Or Doyoung,” Mark said, his lips crumpling.

“And if it is?” you gave his hand a firm squeeze.

“I don’t want to go back – not yet.”

You sighed, pulling out your phone nonetheless to look at the time, but inevitably also revealing the caller ID.

1:34AM.

Kim Doyoung.

The call ended, but started up again within the next few seconds, Doyoung calling again.

You glanced back up at him, a conflicted look flashing across your eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, breathlessly though he hadn’t run. Mark knew though, at the end of the day, you were a practical person and knew your place in the world too well. The urge to rip the device out of your hand and throw it into the river itself was strong.

“It could be . . . important,” you muttered reluctantly, finger hovering over the green ‘answer’ button. “Doyoung would never bother if it wasn’t.”

“I don’t want this night to end,” Mark blurted. “I don’t want this to end.”

But the both of you knew – with every night, came a dawn.

You smiled sadly, breaking away from him and answered the call.

“Y/N? Is Mark still with you?” Doyoung asked hastily. He was clearly worried.

“He is,” you replied, trying to stay calm.

“Send me your guys’ location right now – I’m sending a driver,” he urged.

“What’s going on?” you asked, peering at Mark.

Doyoung paused, letting out a huff into the receiver. “Y-You’re trending on Twitter – there are pictures and his father is furious.”

Your jaw grew slack – something both you and Doyoung feared finally manifesting itself into reality. After listening to his instructions on how to proceed, you handed the phone over to Mark as the older man needed to talk to him as well. The two argued, Mark not letting down his guard until Doyoung said something that brought about a look of devastation into the peaks and valleys of Mark’s sharp features. After a few nods and words of ‘yes,’ the younger hung up, handing you over your phone.

Silence engulfed the two of you again, but this time out of discomfort.

Nonetheless, Mark couldn’t quite let this night go just yet. Not caring if there were reporters around to catch this on camera, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed his lips against your forehead, letting his lips linger for a few seconds more before pulling away.

“This isn’t over,” Mark reassured you, giving you a firm squeeze. “We’ll talk about this, hm? I’ll find my way back to you.”

But just because it felt right, doesn’t mean it was right.

You belonged to two different worlds now; two worlds that were never intended to mesh.

Perhaps in another life, simple nights like this could last a lifetime instead of the seemingly few hours of dark.

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