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forlix · 6 months

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𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠・h.h.

— you're uninviting, there's no doubt about that, your resolve like unpolished diamond and tongue like broken glass. but hyunjin finds you're not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.

words・11.1k

pairing・idol!hyunjin x female stylist!reader (inspired by this)

genres・fluff, angst, eventual smut so MDNI, some hurt/comfort, some humor, mc is a bad bitch and hyunjin is a #simp, enemies? to lovers, sexual tension, workplace relationship, mutual pining, slow burn, nonlinear narrative, alternating perspectives

warnings・cunnilingus, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex!!), mild dacryphilia. again, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WITH THIS POST WILL BE BLOCKED.

warnings (cont'd.)・reader vividly remembers an anxiety attack. alcohol is consumed. lots of compartmentalization and imperfect communication. latter half is just kind of sad in general tbh but what do u expect from a fic based off alex turner lyrics

playlist・farewell, neverland by txt・like crazy by jimin・black friday by tom odell・collide by justine skye・crying lightning by arctic monkeys

a/n・call me victor frankenstein bc i've given birth to a MONSTER (except i actually love and care for mine ofc). this was easily the greatest challenge of my fanfiction-writing career and it feels like my magnum opus; i hope it's worth the wait! also a huge shoutout to sahar for being my voice of reason and my biggest supporter :’) i don’t deserve u i love u

Present day. Cannes, France. 5:54 P.M.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that Hwang Hyunjin is incapable of shutting up for more than five minutes.

As it is, the man has a mouth that runs like a cross-country marathon; then throw in his uncanny aptitude for annoying you, and what do you get? A nonstop slew of terrible jokes and teasing quips, tailored according to his thorough mental manual of what gets under your skin hardest and fastest.

This is the reality you live in, presumably because you were evil in your past life, and you’ve steeled yourself to see it through.

But twenty minutes have passed since you and Hyunjin ducked into the back of a cab and gave the driver the show’s address—and, as stunning as the red rooftops and lazuline coastline of Cannes are, you find you’re more interested in Hyunjin’s peculiar silence.

You move your gaze to his face. He’s looking outside, his chin resting upon the palm of his hand, the afternoon sunlight dusting over his chiseled features like polish on pottery; his complexion an exuberant gold against the cream-colored linen that makes up his clothing.

Maybe it’s because you opted for a simpler makeup look today, leaving the most telling contours of his face warm and bare, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last year committing his every mannerism and expression to memory. Nevertheless, you see through his pursed lips and tight brow right away.

“Nervous?”

Hyunjin’s head swivels towards you with a small snap, like he’s forgotten you’re here. His lips fall open, their glossy peach color glinting with the small shift.

“No,” he replies reflexively, but then his facade flickers. “Fuck, maybe a little. It’s just hard to believe, you know?”

You do know. It was a huge honor for both of you when Hyunjin was named the newest global ambassador of Versace. For you to be attending the brand’s pop-up show in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, among some of the world’s most prolific creatives, is truly incomprehensible. Even you’ve been feeling antsy since you landed; you can only imagine Hyunjin’s anxiety.

You have never been good at consolation. You think your mouth is too coarse, your propensity for honesty too strong. But you’ve always known just what to say when it comes to him.

“Just remember who you are.”

Hyunjin takes a few seconds to process your words, but his understanding washes over his whole body; straightens his back; hardens his gaze. You don’t see this change in posture, though. You’re too busy looking anywhere else, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed.

Nor do you see the private smile that disperses across Hyunjin’s lips; his eyes softening so, so marginally when they peer at your profile; his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, as if contemplating reaching for you with a mind of its own.

Thirty seconds. That is the amount of time you have left to bask in this otherworldly tranquility. And then he speaks.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

Your arm reacts before your mind can. Without having to turn your head an inch, you smack him squarely in the bicep, sending him crumpling against his door with a bark of a laugh; “please,” he adds, and you’re biting back a smile as you hit him again, with less conviction this time.

The cab driver nearly misses an exit, too busy wondering about the peculiar pair in his backseat and the nature of your relationship. He can’t tell if you hate each other or if you’re married.

One year ago. Seoul, South Korea. 8:42 A.M.

“I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“For my newborn daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for your newborn daughter. What does that brat have that I don’t?”

“My genes, to begin with.”

“That’s unfair. She’s using—”

An important-looking pair of women step out of the nearest elevators, the clacking of their heels ricocheting sharply off the lobby walls. Hyunjin straightens his back so quickly he thinks he pulls a muscle. He and Seojun incline their heads in perfect sync, their “good morning”s prim and professional.

“She’s using cheats,” Hyunjin hisses the second the women are out of earshot again, and this wrests a laugh from the older man at last.

Around one month prior, Seojun confided in Hyunjin that he and his partner were expecting their first child soon, and that he would be putting his career on indefinite hiatus to welcome her into the world.

Hyunjin had never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he’d grown closer to his stylist over the last two years than he’d thought possible, and he knew it was stupid to be anything but delighted for him and his expanding family. On the other hand, it was precisely because they’d become so close that he wanted to grab the man by the ankles and shake the decision clean out of his body. He couldn’t imagine a dressing room or tour bus without him.

Today is a Saturday, but it’s also Seojun’s last day with the company. Hyunjin dragged himself to the JYP building at half past eight with much less reluctance than he let on. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Fourth floor,” Seojun instructs after the pair enter the elevator, and Hyunjin presses a knuckle to the according number. “Thanks.”

The doors slide shut; the floor numbers tick upwards.

“What was her name again?” Hyunjin asks.

“Y/N,” Seojun returns. “Y/L/N.”

“Is she here already?”

“No, she’ll be here at nine.”

There’s a small pause.

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like I’m being married off to another family for political reasons.”

“God, I can’t wait to be free of your theatrics.”

At this, the two men make eye contact; exchange smiles. The elevator announces their arrival to the fourth floor, and they step through the doors.

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seojun reassures. “She’s the best of the best. I hear she’s basically running the industry these days. I’m surprised she agreed to take you on.”

“I’m surprised an old fry like you knows someone like her,” Hyunjin replies, and the look Seojun gives him is so withering that he thinks he pulls a muscle again with his apologetic bow.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Seojun concedes. “We happened to work on the same project back when she was still a small name, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a great kid. Ambitious, hardworking, strong as hell—”

They arrive outside their destination, and Hyunjin holds open the door to the conference room. Only to find that Seojun has stopped in his footsteps, temporarily stunned by a new realization.

She reminds me of him.

“He’s forgotten how to walk,” the him in question whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary, and the moment is over. “Is this what fatherhood does to a man?”

Seojun kicks Hyunjin into the room by the seat of his pants.

The minutes pass slowly. Seojun moves his eyes between the door and his phone every few seconds, visibly antsy about the imminent meeting. In the meantime, Hyunjin makes the groundbreaking discovery that these office chairs are absurdly and almost suspiciously comfortable. All it takes is a chin upon his palm and a few seconds of shut-eye, and he’s suddenly slumped over the table, snoring softly into the crook of his elbow.

At 8:57, Seojun’s phone lights up with a new notification. At 8:58, he notices that Hyunjin is asleep, and closes his hand around the crumpled receipt in his pocket. At 8:59, he scrunches said receipt into a ball and launches it in Hyunjin’s direction. It hits him squarely on the head, and the boy is nearly knocked to the floor like a bowling pin.

“For that,” Hyunjin sputters, “I’m the godfather.”

“Absolutely the hell not.”

Then, it is 9:00.

When the door of the conference room opens, Hyunjin is still trying to gather his wits, wondering if the bastard is leaving the makeup industry to secretly pursue a career in professional basketball. He just barely notices the unfamiliar figure who steps into his line of vision.

“There she is,” Seojun greets warmly, rising to his feet right away. “God, how long has it been? Two, three years now?”

You’re not doing anything remarkable when Hyunjin sees you for the first time, simply walking across the room and bowing graciously in Seojun’s direction, but he is immediately under the vague impression that you’re cutting through space as you move, scorching the particles of air that dare obstruct your path.

With his head cocked slightly to the left, like a fascinated puppy, Hyunjin watches the stunning smile that forms on your lips when you take Seojun’s hand; your finger as it tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the elegance of rippling silk. His mind feels impossibly slow, like you’ve tapped open his skull and robbed him of his ability to think.

Then, you toss Hyunjin a look over your shoulder, and he’s reminded of lightning forking towards the earth. Terrifying, volatile, beautiful.

“Something like that,” you say, turning back to Seojun, and time starts to move again. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Lee. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Please, Seojun is fine,” he answers hastily. “And thank you. Thank you for all of this, actually. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you.”

“You’re too kind—I’m excited too.”

Upon uttering the word “we,” Seojun delivers Hyunjin a fleeting side-eye; he takes the hint and pushes himself to his feet, feeling uncharacteristically clumsy as he moves towards you.

The second time he meets your gaze, it feels wrong, almost, for him to hold it for as long as he does. Like he’s approaching your throne with his chin held high and eyes fixed forward instead of his head sweeping the ground.

Except he swears he senses a strange warmth within the rings of your irises, and he spends every second of eye contact following, chasing it, almost craning his neck with how badly he wants to get a closer look. Until he’s as close to you as is socially acceptable for a first meeting and comes to a halt.

He ends up losing its trail, but he won’t forget that it’s there.

“My client, I’m guessing?” You say, extending your hand. “Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

Your fingers are freezing cold where they meet his, and Hyunjin already knows that melting the permafrost that coats your flesh and guards your soul will be the tallest task of his life.

But he finds his next words accompanied by an involuntary smirk; he’s nothing, if not tenacious.

“Hyunjin,” he returns. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Nine months ago. Paris, France. 6:16 P.M.

Hyunjin isn’t sure why—maybe you forget that he can still steal glances at your reflection over your shoulder or through the gaps of your fingers—but he’s learned over the last four weeks that you’re different, gentler, when you’re doing his makeup.

Your cold hands request instead of demand that he angle his head a certain way or suck in his cheeks. Your syllables are rounder somehow, your voice never traveling above a murmur. Even your eyes mellow out when you move in really close, your pupils dilating as you detail the final touches to the fresco you’ve painted upon him.

Your expression doesn’t give you away (it never does), but his hunch is that there’s a sprinkle of doting somewhere among the intense focus. That would explain why he feels like a flower in the moments when your fingertips and gaze move so carefully over his skin, like you’re touching his petals, trying not to tear them.

Too bad you never let him daydream for long.

“Close.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes. Close them.”

His lashes have hardly brushed his lower lids when you begin to empty what feels like an entire bottle of setting spray on him. At the moist surprise, Hyunjin’s features scrunch up around his nose and he lets out a distraught hack like an old man.

A few seconds later, the barrage stops, and he cracks open a wary eye to scope out his surroundings. You wait until he does this to give his face one last spurt.

“Witch,” Hyunjin mutters, clawing back up the vanity chair.

“Thank you,” you reply, completely earnestly.

And whatever Hyunjin was going to say next suspends instantly on his tongue when you bring the pad of your thumb to the very edge of his lower lip and drag it across the soft flesh. He wonders if you know how hard he tries not to look at your mouth whenever you tend to his. He wonders if there’s anything you don’t know.

“You smudged your lipstick already.” There’s a small streak of coral pink on your hand when it falls back to your side. “See? That’s why we need the setting spray.”

“Uh huh.” And Hyunjin spots a ghost of a smile flit across your face, gone nearly as soon as it appears. The only evidence of it ever existing is the quickened heartbeat it leaves behind within him.

“You’re done, by the way,” you say, stepping aside. “Take a look.”

He slips out of his seat and moves closer to the vanity, peering at his reflection as curiously as if he’s never seen it before. But that’s how he’s felt since he started working with you.

Seojun was right: you are the best that the makeup industry has to offer. Hyunjin has come to understand this for multiple reasons. Your phone screen is incessantly illuminated by new notifications and incoming calls. The other stylists heed your advice like it’s the law. Brushes and pencils move like water when it’s you maneuvering them. And then some.

He would call what you have “talent,” but he knows it’s more than that. You show him a new version of himself every time you turn a mirror in his direction, like there are facets of him that are visible to you and you only. As much as he delights in the notion that you have such intimate knowledge of him, it should be impossible, considering you’ve only known him for two months. So no, it’s not just talent that you possess. It’s some combination of talent, hawkish perception, and raw artistry that is utterly inhuman—and sexy as fuck.

Speaking of sexy. Hyunjin’s look is relatively rudimentary tonight, the makeup light, the outfit a simple black tank top beneath a jacket and pants made of bright red velvet. But it’s the details that tie the whole thing together: the wide, loose sleeves causing the jacket to slip continually off his shoulders; the inner layer tight in all the right places. His face doesn’t look half bad either, with the sultry carmine powder that fringes his eyes and the intentionally mussed state of his hair. He pushes a hand through the dark locks, regarding himself with thorough appreciation.

You appear in his periphery as you start cleaning up your work station. “You can just take the jacket off when your sweat glands start malfunctioning, by the way. I thought you’d appreciate that detail.”

At this, his smize cracks into a laugh, the sound loud and uninhibited and uniquely yours to hear. “You suck.”

He looks away from his reflection just in time to glimpse another of your phantom smiles, and he thinks it’s so painfully on brand that the two times it’s appeared tonight have both been from you making yourself laugh. You might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. He might be obsessed with you anyways.

“Well?” You implore. “What do you think?”

“No notes.”

It’s the answer you’re expecting. You survey him from head to toe one last time, decide that you, too, are satisfied, and slip your makeup into your bag; hike its strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you after the show, then.”

You have an important conference call to attend before tonight’s concert, hence why Hyunjin had to come in early for hair and makeup. This is also the reason why the two of you have been the only people in the dressing room for the better part of an hour.

It’s rare that he ever gets you alone, and he doesn’t want it to end. Not just yet.

“I lied, actually,” he calls. “I do have notes.”

You already have one foot out the door when you hear this, and you turn around so slowly and in such disbelief that he has to fight to constrain his laugh—the concept of imperfection is truly unthinkable to you. Insufferable, like he said.

“Do tell,” you say, dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“You have any jewelry for me?”

You chew on this for a moment. You did have a selection of necklaces prepared for tonight, but they were heavy and numerous, not exactly the best-suited for the group’s dynamic sets. You still like them, granted, and you know Hyunjin would as well.

You articulate all of this to him, and he asks if he can take a look at them anyways. “Come here, then,” you say, the words so tantalizing when they fall from your lips that nearly trips over himself trying to obey.

You take out a flat rectangular box from your bag and set it down in front of the lightbulb-studded mirrors. Hyunjin observes quietly as you show him its contents: three thick, gold chains with varying lengths and boasting different pendants, plus a beaded bracelet and an assembly of rings of the same material. His devious plan aside, he does love the selection.

“You’re sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”

He nods, and you pick up the longest of the three chains; turn to him expectedly. He takes this as his cue to move closer to you, except he overshoots a little, and he feels the tips of his shoes accidentally bump into the ends of yours; discerns the warmth emanating from your body against his own. He expects a withering glare, a kick in the shin, maybe, but you don’t seem bothered by the proximity at all, unblinking as you bring your hands around the either side of his neck and fasten the first necklace with a soft tap. Your fingers then brush over his collarbones to adjust the pendant, and he thinks your hands would have to be numb not to perceive the frantic heartbeat threatening to burst straight out of his skin.

Entire minutes pass before Hyunjin musters the courage to actually look at you. By then, you’re already working on the third and final necklace. It’s not a surprise that your face is mere inches away from his; he’s been watching your reflections out of the corner of his eye; he knows you’re closer to each other than you’ve ever been. But there are parts of you that the mirror doesn’t show—the soft curve of your lashes, the concentrated narrow of your eyes, the shapely protrusion of your pursed lips—and these surprise him so thoroughly that he slips and slides out of his right mind.

You are the type of beautiful that’s been around longer than humans have, the same as that of the true blue color of forget-me-nots. And Hyunjin feels enveloped, intoxicated by you from this minuscule distance. The idea forms numbly in his head that maybe, just maybe, he was put on this earth to admire you.

In this inebriated state, he makes a venturesome decision.

When you finish centering the last pendant upon the his chest, you are about to take a step back and review the updated look, but you’re debilitated by the feeling of fingers grazing over your hip—lightly, so lightly that you mistake them for a gust of wind at first, but the contact is enough to push the small of your back against the edge of the counter. Then, both of Hyunjin’s hands reach behind you, pressing flat against the marble surface, and, just like that, he has you right where he wants you, ensnared between cold stone and hot flesh.

And so begins an equilibrium so fragile that it’ll shatter if one of you so much as blinks the wrong way, your rattled breath fluttering against his lips, his eyes dark and hooded and out of focus as they survey the fine lines of your expression. It still doesn’t give you away (it never does), but he finds that in this moment he just doesn’t care.

“Let me take you out,” he murmurs. “One date.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You reply under your breath.

“You know what I’m talking about, beautiful.”

Upon uttering that last word, he angles his head almost imperceptibly, the movement challenging, daring you to say something about it. But you don’t. You merely hiss out a whetted “you’re fucking crazy,” and that’s his opening to drag this on a little longer; push your limits a little more.

“About you? Damn straight.”

At this, finally, fucking finally, there is a semblance of something in your face that isn’t just your usual mildly-irritated nonchalance. Instead, he detects surprise in the whites of your eyes as you widen them; as you part your lips with a response that only comes much later.

And he’s surprised by your surprise. Surely, with your skills of observation, you would’ve noticed long ago how his world shrinks down to only you and your gorgeous voice and your confident glare and your shitty sense of humor whenever he’s been granted the privilege of your presence.

This might be the first time he’s admitted it out loud, but he hasn’t tried—hasn’t been able—to hide how he feels about you, not now, not ever. It’s been that way since the moment the sole of your shoe met the carpet of that conference room on the fourth floor of the JYP building.

“Hwang—” You begin.

“Hyung!”

At the sound of a third, new voice, your arms tense like you’re about to shove Hyunjin off of you, but he only leans in further, so that his lips almost graze your jaw and your hands have nowhere to go except the taut surface of his chest. The surprise is gone; now you’re just pissed. He can feel the heat of your furious eyes and the tremor in your hands as you form fists around the fabric of his top. But he takes his sweet time in scooping up the bracelet and rings, and only afterwards does he pull away from you and straighten to his full height.

“Hey, Innie!” Hyunjin chirps, and Jeongin materializes in the doorway, looking thoroughly perturbed by the older boy’s sunny tone. “What’s up?”

In the meantime, you turn around to snap the lid of your jewelry box shut, and it takes a singular glance in the mirror for a truly horrible realization to settle upon your shoulders. You don’t think anybody would be able to tell even if you announced it outright, but you know yourself and the little nuances of your face all too well.

You’re flustered.

You feel like a horror movie heroine breaking the fourth wall.

“Nothing, weirdo. I was just announcing my arrival,” Jeongin says. Thank fuck you did, Hyunjin thinks to himself, completely unaware of the epiphany you’re having behind him. “Chan-hyung mentioned you were here already? Why?”

“She’s in high demand.” Hyunjin points out the she in question by jutting his chin in your direction. “The usual.”

“Ah.”

Jeongin inclines his head towards you in polite greeting. You return his hello, but your expression starts to feel tight when his eyes dart between the strange smile on Hyunjin’s face and your awkward stance (still glued to the edge of the counter) as he drops his duffel by the couch. The boy isn’t stupid, unlike his older counterpart.

“I saw a vending machine on my way here,” Jeongin says, turning to leave the room again. “You want anything, hyung? Noona?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say.

“I’ll have whatever you have,” Hyunjin says.

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up and dips out of the room, perhaps a little more hastily than he intends to come across. And then there are two. Again.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then you turn to glower at Hyunjin so intensely that he thinks you’re about to place a curse on his whole bloodline.

Then, your phone starts vibrating, and he knows he’ll live to see another day.

“You still owe me an answer,” Hyunjin calls as you turn around and leave the room.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply.

One day, I’ll break her, is the predominant thought that resides in Hyunjin’s head as he slips on the remaining jewelry; watches your figure disappear around a corner. One day, I’ll break his face, is the predominant thought that resides in yours as you stalk away. That’s the two of you, in a nutshell.

Six months ago. Osaka, Japan. 3:03 P.M.

When you walk into the dressing room, you find Haeun hunched over an overflowing photo album with her hands forming fists in her hair, muttering to nobody in particular, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

There’s an amused look in your eye as you set your bag down by Hyunjin’s empty vanity chair. She hasn’t noticed your presence yet; approximately three hallways down, the members are rehearsing for tonight’s performance on the main stage of the Kyocera Dome, and the music is so loud that you think you actually saw the walls vibrating while you were in the hallway moments ago.

You rise to your tiptoes and encroach upon her, waiting until she’s within reach to tickle the back of her neck. She nearly flies out of her seat with a shriek that can be heard over the heavy bass.

“Never gets old.” You hand her the photo album that went soaring also, and Haeun snatches it back with an affronted flourish.

“I can’t remember the last time you said hi to me normally, unnie.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it.”

Haeun and Han are your favorite stylist-idol duo in the world because they’re so eerily similar—and it’s adorable. They both illuminate every room they walk into; they both have grins too big for their faces, laughs too loud for their lungs. You always regret leaving your sunglasses at home when you catch sight of the effulgent pair.

But today you cannot detect the usual radiance in Haeun’s voice, nor so much as a hint of her easy grin. Then again, that’s another quality that she and her client share; they’re both well acquainted with the burdens that come with unwavering passion.

Every stylist has their own modus operandi. Haeun’s is a scrapbook of images that she cuts out and saves from catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, et cetera. You’ve seen it many times before, but never in such a state: messy handwriting stuffing the margins to their very brims, numbers and symbols like clusters of rainclouds over a sea of different outfits, arrows and circles and squares highlighting pant cuffs and cascade collars and dangling earrings. Telltale signs that Haeun hasn’t a clue as to what Han will be wearing tonight.

You gnaw on your lower lip, deliberating your next move. You end up placing a firm hand against the album’s cover and pushing it closed.

“Come with me,” you say. “We’re gonna try a new approach.”

Haeun opens her mouth to protest, but unfortunately you have an extensive track record of being right.

“What do you have in mind?” She sighs instead.

“You’ll see.”

With that, you stand up, tuck a small towel under your arm, and angle your head in the direction of the music.

The two of you make your way through the labyrinth of hallways that comprise the venue’s backstage. Eventually, the color of the floor changes from speckled white to solid black, and you step onto the part of the stage that is concealed from the audience by drawn curtains and heavy equipment. You say a quick hello to the group’s manager as you dip past him, and eventually reach the edge of the curtains, where you and Haeun have a good view of the eight members as they run through their setlist for tonight’s concert.

Haeun settles into the spot beside you, still confused as she follows your gaze.

“Let me ask you this,” you say, just audible over the din. “Can you style a performer if you don’t know how he performs?”

And understanding seeps over her features like poured tea.

“I want you to watch him,” you continue. “Tell me how he performs.”

Han’s part begins, as if on cue. His voice rings out through the empty stadium as he ducks to the front of the formation, a microphone held loosely to his lips, his face taut with focus. Haeun stares at him for some time, silently trying to fathom her observations, but she sees you shaking your head in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t think, Haeun. Just speak.”

She blows out a deep breath before obliging. “It’s hard to picture Han doing anything but laughing or making other people laugh, he’s so goofy and lighthearted most of the time. But he’s like a different person on stage. He’s so intense, it’s almost intimidating. Not intimidating in a douchey way, though—you just get the impression that he’s very confident in himself and his music.

You don’t say another word, but don’t need to. She’s hit her stride.

“His voice and enunciation are so clear. It’s crazy how he sounds exactly like the studio recording. Plus, his delivery feels genuine; he’s not just reciting lyrics, but speaking straight from his heart.

“And this is gonna sound bad, but I didn’t know Han could dance. Like, yeah, I knew that he could dance, but not like this. His movements are so sharp that I feel like my attention is being—”

Right there.

She cuts herself off, reaching the same conclusion.

“It’s his turn to talk, and he wants you to cling to his every word," Haeun articulates slowly. "He’s demanding your attention. He needs you to listen. That’s how he performs.”

A satisfied smile bolts across your face like lightning. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Haeun pictures her scrapbook again, and there are now only a few articles of clothing and accessories that fit the framework you’ve helped her forge. She’s almost dizzy with disbelief, tearing her eyes from Han to look at you instead.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“I do, but I appreciate the reminder.”

She can’t help but giggle. It’s a you answer if she’s ever heard one. “Do you do that with all of your clients?”

Haeun asks the question arbitrarily, without thinking. But you respond in a way that she doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed before, and she’s momentarily baffled by the sight: you hesitate.

As the song’s final chorus approaches, Hyunjin is the one folding himself into the center of the eight-person throng. You can only see his back from this angle, but even then it’s palpable how expertly and effortlessly he molds his body to the modulations of the music; how much fervor and feeling he expresses with every jerk of his spine and flex of his hands.

Within a few short seconds, innumerable descriptors and sensations skim the surface of your mind—but one word knocks the rest clean out of the water, the way it always does when you watch Hwang Hyunjin perform.

Artistry.

“No,” you reply. “Not all of them.”

And where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?

Haeun furrows a brow, understandably puzzled by this response, but you don’t elaborate. Partially because you feel like being coy, but mostly because you know that any explanation you offer will sound like a confession.

The song ends, leaving your ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. The members hold their poses with heaving shoulders, staring out into the empty stands until the stage manager’s voice comes through the monitors.

“And that’s a wrap! We’re all set for tonight. Good work, everyone.”

There is a ripple of movement around the stage as the boys relax. Jeongin jogs over to Minho, hoping to review a particularly challenging dance break; the manager asks Chan if he has a second to discuss travel logistics; Seungmin plops onto the edge of the stage and downs the rest of his water; Hyunjin beelines toward you the second he sees you, because of course he does.

You get a good look at him as he skips closer. Stray blonde locks plastered against his damp skin, tank top dyed several shades darker by the perspiration rolling down his neck, the muscles of his arms actually rippling as he swings them around stupidly, a shit-eating smile plastered across his stunning face.

You’re annoyed before he says a word.

“I didn’t know they were letting fans backstage now,” he hums happily. “Want an autograph, gorgeous?”

“Put a sock in it.” You whisk the towel you’ve been holding in his direction. “Wet freak.”

But he catches and tosses it over his shoulder straightaway, and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle. You’ve seen this movie before. You know how it ends.

“No.” You take a shaky step back. “No, nope, don’t even think about—”

The next thing you know, Hyunjin is lunging towards you and winding his arms around your waist, nearly sweeping you clean off your feet as he pulls you into his sweaty embrace. To your complete dismay, your face presses flat against the clammy plane of his chest. “Call me a wet freak again, go on,” he manages to say through his laughter.

In response, one of your hands wriggles free of its slippery prison and snatches the cuff of Hyunjin’s ear with impressive accuracy. He yelps and loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t relent completely, not even when he catches sight of the murderous expression on your face and cackles so forcefully his whole head is thrown back.

You tighten your grip. “Wet,” you seethe, “freak.”

“Ow—okay, don’t make it hot, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wha—what’s wrong with YOU?!”

As the two of you dissolve into your fatuous arguing, Haeun is no longer sure that she’s still standing here. She’s not even sure if she’s in her right mind anymore. She thinks she might be hallucinating the way everything about Hyunjin softens next to you, or the way your biting tone only seems to nibble when it’s him on the receiving end.

“Psst. We’ve been placing bets on them. You want in?”

Han suddenly materializes next to Haeun, and she would have been jumpscared into a different dimension if she wasn’t so fixated upon the bizarre occurrence before her.

But what if she’s not hallucinating?

No, not all of them, you’d said, like you were disclosing a forbidden secret.

“Yes,” she says, and Han beams. “Absolutely.”

Three months ago. Seoul, South Korea. 2:26 A.M.

On a tranquil Saturday night, you’re sitting at your desk, your knees tucked to your chest, the newest episode of your drama playing quietly on your laptop, a half-empty glass of rosé and open sketchbook laid before you. This is your happy place—a safe haven that the trials and tribulations of the real world can’t reach. But you think you’ve really gone and lost your mind when you find yourself thinking about your job.

Well, not your job, exactly. More like the man who makes your job feel fucking Sisyphean.

You know your way around fabric and foundation better than anyone, but you have never struggled with anything as much as you have trying to navigate Hyunjin. You show up to work every day ready to just put some makeup on the man; instead, you wind up stumbling around the potholes of his dimples and the hills of the veins that run over his forearms and hands like a hopeless drunkard. Scouring the creases of his smile and the oscillations of his voice like they’re topographical maps. Mentally replaying your interactions with him time and time again like you’re monitoring security footage, trying to detect illicit activity in every casual touch he leaves on your shoulder or waist; every babe or gorgeous he throws your way, seemingly without a second thought.

You’ve been trying to understand him and his intentions for seven months now, and your efforts have yielded no fruit whatsoever, save for a few theories that you feel insane for even humoring.

You down the rest of the blush-colored liquid, and as you set down your empty glass you notice your fingers itch with a familiar urge. The pen that you’ve been twirling over your knuckles stills, then swivels; its tip hovers over the last free corner of the sheet of cartridge paper below you. And then it presses upon the surface and starts to move, as naturally as if on its own.

When you were little, you came across a children’s book that you no longer remember the name of, about a little girl with a magical pen that brought her every drawing to life. You decided then that you would one day be that girl.

At some point, the subjects of your incessant sketching became almost exclusively runway models and makeup advertisements. You cemented that you wanted to work in fashion as early as your high school graduation, and by then you already possessed the conviction and charisma of the industry’s most experienced members. Your portfolio was stellar; your personality prophesied of wild success. So your career took off, propelled by the neverending positions and projects that various companies continually laid before your feet.

You stand and pad to your kitchen to refill your glass, only to bring the entire bottle of wine back to your room instead. With one hand, you flick the cap off and lift the whole thing to your lips; with the other, you seize your pen again, not wanting to lose momentum.

For the year or so after you joined the industry, you basked in your idyllic prosperity. Even the doodles you scrawled on random napkins during banal business lunches would appear on some of the world’s most renowned faces the next week. You had indubitably become the little girl from your story; made a career out of giving your imagination tangible form. And what a fruitful career it was going to be.

If only you knew how it would strengthen you in ways you never wanted.

The first time someone called you cold, it took you a while to realize that they were talking about you. The phrase was said so casually and lightheartedly that it sounded at first like a piece of unimportant small talk. But the whisper of cold bitch was then followed by a bout of stifled laughter and what was undoubtedly your name. Your heart stopped along with your footsteps, and you looked towards the source: two interns whose names you had yet to learn, while yours was already in their mouths.

You felt nothing until you were three stops away from your apartment, and then the bottom of the subway gave out beneath you and suddenly you were feeling everything. Only confusion, hurt, and rage at first, but then the other emotions that you’d been smothering tirelessly for who-knows-how-long tore free of their cerebral shackles too, and together they formed an amalgamation of anxiety that closed up your throat within seconds.

As your pen studs details into a shapely jawline, you remember how you’d shoved your way off the subway and made a mad dash into the night air. You remember how you collapsed against a utility pole in an unfamiliar neighborhood, how your knuckles paled around the ashen wood, how your tears tumbled over your lips and salted your tongue. You remember wanting to go home so badly that you thought your ribcage would cave in on itself with the weight of it. You remember begging for air, for you.

By the time the oxygen had returned to your lungs, the streets were empty save for you, crouched on the curb, your face buried in your arms, spent, shattered, and alone. You were only nineteen at the time.

You are now twenty-two, and the word “cold” has become a regular guest in the lodgings of your heart. You never invite it over, but you’re no longer surprised to find it at your door. It’s a thief, swiping pieces of you when it thinks you’re not looking—a fragment above the fireplace, a scrap from the cracks between the couch—and you know whenever you’re being robbed, know that you lose parts of yourself upon its every visit. But better that than acknowledging what you lose.

You allow it to walk away with full pockets every time.

Hyunjin does not.

“Three words to describe yourself. Go,” he said a few days ago, the two of you heading back to the tour bus after a filming session.

You were so used to these irrational inquiries of his that you didn’t bother trying to dodge this one. “You first.”

“Smart, sexy, suave,” he said immediately, but burst into a sheepish laugh at the sight of your weary glare. “Fine, fine, let me think. Ambitious, for one. Introspective, definitely—maybe overly so. And artistic. I’d like to think so, at least. Satisfied?”

The most creative person you knew doubting his own ingenuity was absurd to you, but you nodded begrudgingly. It was a good answer, for the most part.

“Now you.”

Honestly, the thief had surfaced the moment you heard the question, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to inform Hyunjin of its existence. Not because you didn’t trust him—you did, more than you had anyone in years—but because you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if he agreed. You weren’t sure your heart would be able to take it.

When you met the boy’s gaze, though, the carob brown of his eyes was so curious and so comforting that you suspected that was never a possibility.

“Cold,” you mumbled. “I’ve been called cold before.”

There was a pregnant pause. You found yourself holding your breath. And then—

“That’s a joke, right?”

Hyunjin began to count off his fingers.

“Mean. So mean. Impossibly, infuriatingly confident. Talented, stubborn, strong. Funny, sometimes, I guess, though I’d rather you hit me with a metal pipe than admit that ever again.”

At this, you caved; a laugh erupted from your lips, leaving a genuine smile in its wake.

“Determined. Eloquent. Bossy. Some kind of evil, twisted genius. Contemplative, caring, compassionate. Fearless,” he went on. “You get my point. You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but cold isn’t one—”

He was about to say something mind-numbingly stupid. You could sense it in the air.

“—and not just because you’re hot.”

You smacked his bicep, the smile on your face now an uninhibited, helpless grin. And as he vanished into a fit of high-pitched laughter, you thought you sensed him crack open your door and slip your missing artifacts back to their rightful places.

Hyunjin began to climb into the bus, and you caught the cuff of his sleeve, your feet still planted on the pavement.

“Thank you,” you said.

The tremors of his fond chuckle traveled to your very core.

“Idiot,” he sighed softly.

Idiot, you write, and the drawings are complete.

When you stand up, the bottle is mostly gone—and so are you. You splash some water on your face in lieu of your skincare routine and prod the inside of your mouth a few times using a dry toothbrush, and then you dive beneath your duvet and are dead asleep in minutes. Your slumber is interrupted only by dreams of a world where your theories about Hyunjin aren’t just theories.

If you’d had even one mouthful less of rosé, you might’ve remembered that you picked up your phone and opened your most recent conversation somewhere between steps two and three.

[3:10 A.M.] To: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids, JYP) Audio Message.wav

Hi. I’m drunk and I’m going to regret this tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow’s business. There’s something I need to tell you tonight.

After I moved to Seoul, I used to get these bouts of homesickness. Not in a standard ‘I wanna go home’ kind of way, but in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below me. I was always ready for it to swallow me alive. I would’ve been happy for it to.

But I haven’t felt that way since I met you. I realized this not too long ago, and it threw me for a fucking loop. I’ve never felt seen the way you see me. I’ve never been known the way you know me. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, it feels so much like returning home that I don’t have to dream of it anymore.

You called me fearless the other day, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that history is going to repeat itself, that another home will slip through the cracks between my fingers and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. And that’s why I’m so hesitant towards you, towards whatever this is, because I don’t want to go through that ever again.

So the thing I need to tell you is that I care about you. I care so much that I’m scared speaking it into existence will make it real and vulnerable to all the worst parts of the world. But it’s not speaking it into existence if I’m drunk, right? Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll never even hear this. So it doesn’t count. That’s how that works, surely.

Sorry if this was totally nonsensical. And sorry that I’m so bad at feelings. You must think I’m impossible, and I don’t blame you.

Good night, Hyunjin. Thank you, again.

One month ago. Los Angeles, United States. 12:37 A.M.

When Hyunjin steps out of the hotel’s tall glass double doors, he’s wearing a teatree facemask, and his bags are draped over the crooks of his elbows like he’s an upper-echelon socialite on his way back from a lavish shopping spree. And then he sees you standing next to the curb, and the situation dawns on him in bits and pieces.

You’re the only one here. The vans that were supposed to take you to the airport are nowhere to be seen. Boarding begins in four minutes.

A soft flinch crimps his features. Oops.

“Tomorrow night,” you’re saying into your receiver, but your attention is on him only, your penetrative gaze putting the dead in deadpan. “The absolute earliest. You’re sure?”

When you finish listening to the manager’s response, you heave a sigh that sags your shoulders and end the call with a jab that should’ve splintered your screen protector.

Then, you start walking towards him.

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, his eyes pleading for mercy. “You are so talented and beautiful. I don’t tell you that often enough, do I?”

He expects you to grab him by the cuff of his ear again, to throw him a retort that’s twice as mean as it is witty, something along those lines. But you merely push your suitcase in his direction, and it is then when he notices that your face is hard enough to chip enamel; that your eyes are eerily, entirely empty. The tendril of warmth that’s always dancing among the subtleties of your expressions, that he’s always pursuing to the very borders of his dreamscapes, is nowhere to be seen.

A shiver travels down Hyunjin’s spine as he curls his fingers around the plastic handle.

Something’s not right.

“We’re gonna have to stay here another day,” you say. “Can you check us in? I have some calls to make.”

“Us?” Hyunjin repeats.

“Junghan could only reserve one room,” you reply, your phone already glued back to your ear. “The hotel is fully booked for the next few months.”

With that, you’re already preoccupied with the next thing, turning to the side to reschedule a meeting. But Hyunjin can only stare blankly at your profile, trying and failing to grasp that he’s going to spend a night with the subject of his every daydream. Though you might be leaning more towards the nightmare end of the spectrum at the moment, considering the way your head snaps back in his direction like a woman possessed.

Go, you mouth, and he obliges.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin is in the elevator by himself. He speculates it’s an ingenious, intentional choice that the lights are turned off, so that whoever’s inside can watch the psychedelic lights of Los Angeles sprawl further and wider the higher they go. But he can’t think of anything except for the subzero nothingness where your irises should’ve been.

Hyunjin’s initial guess was that he crossed a line with this missed plane, but the more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes that this isn’t an isolated issue. It’s the culmination of something bigger. Something continuous.

You have become as familiar to him as the lines of his eyes or the ridges of his knuckles. He’s learned where to look for your feelings when he can’t find them in your face; studied your words and the undertones of your voice like they’re verses of scripture. Yet, it was around two months ago when Hyunjin looked at your side profile and couldn’t recognize you. He’d blinked, startled, and then you’d asked why he was looking at you so strangely, and everything returned to normal. He wrote it off as a side effect of sleep deprivation and paid it no more mind that day.

Except it happened again a few days later; again, not too long after, and Hyunjin began to suspect that he was losing his mind. You didn’t seem all that different—a bit more taciturn than usual, maybe, but you’d been busier than usual, too, your workspace always full of empty coffee cups by the end of the day, the pages of your planner more colorful and crammed than ever. The minor variances never struck him as a reason for worry.

“Stupid,” Hyunjin whispers bitterly.

He replays your interaction one more time. You, shoving your suitcase against his palm, telling him to go check in. Him, fastening his hand around the handle, sensing the bottomless void within you, feeling like he’d been dismissed from before your throne.

As he steps off the elevator and walks towards your designated room, he doesn’t understand how or why—but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

Nearly an hour passes. The room only has one bed, so Hyunjin turns off the lights, folds himself onto the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, drapes a complimentary robe over his shoulders, and tries to sleep. He doesn’t know why he even tries. He’s exhausted, but he knows damn well there’s no hope of him getting any rest until he has you in his proximity again.

He doesn’t look at the door when he finally hears it open, but the knot of tension in his chest comes undone as soon as your silhouette appears in the hallway. He takes out his first real breath since leaving you at the hotel’s entrance.

You hear the sound it makes. You fall still.

“Hyunjin?”

His heart physically aches at how tired you sound. “Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” you answer. “Move to the bed. You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

He remains where he is, his chin resting on the side of his fist, his eyes glued to the flickering panorama of neon lights below him. You crouch to unzip something, and there’s a heavy thud of metal meeting cloth, presumably your laptop being tossed onto the bed’s mattress.

“Hello? Did you—”

“Is everything okay?”

A short pause follows his interruption.

“I still have a few emails to write, but everything’s been rescheduled, so as long as you don’t miss tomorrow’s flight, too, we should be—”

The robe slides off his lap as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

The only source of light in the room is the lone light above the entrance, but it’s enough for him to see your face and the surprise etched upon it. You open your mouth, utter one syllable, and stop yourself immediately after, stunned into silence by the sobriety in Hyunjin’s expression.

“Enlighten me, then,” you say finally.

“You really don’t know?”

“What is there to know? That you missed a flight and pissed me the fuck off? Trust me, I’m aware.”

“No, that’s not—”

“So what are you talking about, then? Why are you talking in riddles? Fuck, what is it that you want from me?”

There’s real frustration in your voice, and it’s the first time you’ve shown him any emotion in pure, unadulterated form. With this, Hyunjin understands that he was right; this conversation is heading towards a culmination of some kind, and so are you, with the devastating force of a natural phenomenon.

He wonders if you’re prepared to destroy yourself, too.

“I know how you are around me,” you whisper. “You’re always acting like you’re trying to unearth something, and I figure this ‘something’ must be wonderful, because you look at me like I’m made of stars; you speak to me like you’re serenading a lover. But I am constantly, ceaselessly haunted by the possibility that this ‘something’ doesn’t exist, that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong person.

“I know it’s selfish to ask for anything more than what you’ve already given me—you’re so kind, Hyunjin, and you’ve been nothing but since the day we met. But grant me one more wish, even if it is the last time you ever do.

“Tell me what you see in me,” you plead. “Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my life mourning the months of yours that you wasted on me.”

With that, it occurs to Hyunjin, falls upon and cracks open his mind like a piece of firewood, that you have never been aware of—never asked for—the throne you sit upon.

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides of your dark hotel room. You haven’t felt anything like this in a long time, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths, your vision muddied by both the lack of light and the desperation searing through your windpipe.

When Hyunjin finally begins to speak, his words wrest the oxygen from your lungs.

“After you moved to Seoul, you used to get these bouts of homesickness.”

Your mind careens; your heart reels.

“They came in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below you.” He takes a tentative step towards you. “You thought it was going to swallow you alive. You would’ve been happy for it to.”

You never got to listen to your voice note. You were blacked out when you recorded it and horrified when you discovered it in your chat logs the next morning; the wretched thing was unsent so quickly that you couldn’t check for a read receipt.

But there’s not a doubt in your mind that these are your words falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“You haven’t felt that way since you met me, though.” He is only a few feet away from you now, and getting closer still. “You’ve never felt seen the way I see you. You’ve never been known the way I know you.”

God, you said that? Did you propose to him too?

“You’re terrified that another home will slip through the cracks between your fingers and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.” Hyunjin flattens his left hand upon the drywall next to your ear; pushes you back ever-so-gently against the hard surface. “I must think you’re impossible.”

And he brings his face so, so close to yours; looks at you with so much adoration, so much tenderness, that you feel the final bulwark around your heart fracture—

“I don’t,” Hyunjin breathes, cradling your cheek, “because you’re not. And I want to prove it to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. That’s what I see in you.”

—and crumble.

You form fists in the lining of his hoodie. Hyunjin’s hand tightens where it lays over the curve of your jaw.

When you crash your lips upon his, he tastes the metallic sheen of electricity and the salt of tearwater both; he witnesses crying lightning, for the first time in human history.

Present day. Cannes, France. 9:15 P.M.

Hyunjin never thinks when he fucks you.

One part of it is that he physically can’t; his cognitive facilities shut down when he has you quivering beneath him, like his desire to pleasure you is too overwhelming for his mind to bear. The other part is that he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid that the voices of cynicism and trepidation that plague his mind every waking moment will taint the actualization of his wildest dreams.

Lucky for him, you manage to erase his mind on a daily basis with only one accidental touch or an apparition of a smile, so he doesn’t stand a chance whenever you let him between your legs.

“Trust me?” He whispers, imprinting the words upon the inside of your thigh.

“More than anyone,” you breathe, and just this has him tenting against his satin slacks.

Hyunjin used to see you scolding managers or moving racks twice your weight and think that was you in your element—tonight, he learned otherwise. You were so confident that even just the way you puffed your chest out prompted heads to turn and low voices to ask for your name; so charming that even by the end of your self-introduction you had every guest you spoke to eating out the palm of your hand.

Eating out your pussy, though, is Hyunjin’s privilege alone.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your dress and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of red fabric around your midriff; slides your panties off your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. All obstacles out of the way, Hyunjin winds his arms around your thighs and pins your hips to the mattress, slotting himself between your knees as they fall apart. Your ankles fold over the top of his head, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay like this, but then you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds—and every word of every language you’ve ever known is dispelled from your brain and your mouth in the form of a stuttered, euphoric moan.

He teases you first, drags his mouth over you so that he’s lapped up all of your slick, and just when you feel your patience thinning he pulls you apart with reverent hands and begins to suckle on your clit, as attentive to your every solicitation as always. You arch your back so high off the bed that your ankles knock Hyunjin’s head down a few inches, but the new angle is even better; grants him access to more of you.

He reinforces his grip around you, presses his torso right up against the side of the mattress, and gorges: sluices your labia until you’re spilling from his chin onto the sheets; flicks against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating and swollen on his mouth; fucks his tongue against your favorite spot until you’re curling your toes, seeing the whole solar system.

“Coming,” you blabber after some time. Tell me something I don’t know, he thinks to himself. “Coming, Hyune. I’m—fuck—”

Hyunjin is aware of the way you clench so hard around nothing that your pelvis hurts. He is aware of the way you’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re genuinely struggling to breathe. He doesn’t care. He wants to get the cadences of your climax tattooed into the gray matter of his brain, and there can’t be rests in the sheet music, can there?

He presses a hand flat on your stomach in preparation for your body’s protest, then returns his face to its place between your thighs; starts to leave kitten licks around the edges of your puffy folds before you can finish riding out your high. You press your tongue against the back of your front teeth, emitting a pained hiss as you draw a sharp breath, tears stinging at your eyes.

“Son of a bitch—”

“Trust me?” He asks again, his voice vibrating against your sore cunt, and your complaints quiet into whimpers as you bring a hand over your quivering mouth, and nod.

At least Hyunjin bridles his thirst the second time he eats your pussy open, his lips smacking openly and slowly over your every inch except the one that would be truly unbearable for you right now. He’s so rough and so fucking careful at once like he can’t decide between obliterating and worshipping your cunt.

He’ll end up doing both.

Within a few minutes, your legs have gone slack on either side of Hyunjin once again, and another coil has begun to tighten behind your bellybutton, equal parts pain and pleasure—but he knows your pussy just as well as he does your person by now, and it’s not long before the former is compounding with the latter.

Round two has a faster ascent and a steeper drop. He finds your spot again with the precision and ease of a trained marksman and fixates upon it like a man starved. It has your cries devolving to incoherent profanities and, to his unfettered delight, your foot actually shaking, your heel tapping against the back of his neck every time it comes down.

As if referencing a metronome, Hyunjin matches the rhythm of his tongue to your accelerando. Only when your leg is nearly convulsing does he wrap his lips back around your clit; slide two fingers into the place he leaves empty and pumps them into you until you are liquifying, igniting around him, your mewls lamenting the second orgasm he plucks from your core.

After your body has stilled, Hyunjin lifts his head, his face drenched in perspiration and saliva and you. His eyes travel over the slopes of your arms and the hills of your breasts, over the tears streaming from your eyes and staining the pillow you lie on. It is this last bit that has him shrugging off his shirt and undoing his dress pants with one hand, palming his throbbing cock with the other.

He clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, your mouth falling apart when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, strands of spit suspending between your tongues before dripping down onto your collarbone. You can sense what he wants in his craving lips, his pleading tongue—and you know he won’t ask for it. He’s tested you enough tonight; he’d rather your comfort than his pleasure.

But you guide his leaking head to your entrance, returning his stupefied look with a watery smile.

“Love me?” You ask this time, for the first time.

There is not even a nanosecond of hesitation when he answers, “with everything in me.”

He comes inside you the moment he bottoms out, your name leaving his lips in breathless, desperate repetition like a broken prayer as he topples off the same cliff he’d dropped you from moments ago. You curl a hand in his hair as he stutters against you, bring your lips flush against his ear, and whisper that you love him too—and the sight of you beneath him blurs he also starts to tear up.

This is the reality Hyunjin lives in, presumably because he was a saint in his past life, and it would be his utmost pleasure to see it through.

Two years later. Milan, Italy. 11:28 A.M.

For the last half hour, a ray of sunlight has repeatedly struck the diamond that sits between the second and third knuckle of your ring finger, and the Vogue journalist on the other side of your desk thinks he is slowly losing his vision. But when he asks his final question, your hand comes to a much-appreciated stop, the fountain pen you’ve been twirling around clattering to your tabletop.

“Where do you find your inspiration?”

As the journalist blinks the phosphenes from his eyes, he finally manages to get a good look at the face of Versace’s newest designer, and he detects something ineffable and warm in your expression.

“My inspiration, hm?” You fall silent for a short time, thinking. “If you asked me this at the start of my career, I’d have said ‘people.’ Their postures, their expressions, their wardrobes. I knew I was a goner when I watched a fashion show for the first time and noticed how the models’ attire helped them harness their innate power and grace—I wanted to orchestrate that kind of symbiosis, too. In that aspect, nothing has changed, actually. I still find wonder in human beings, and not just the ones on the runway. I think it would be difficult not to, don’t you?

“Some time ago, a good friend of mine was having trouble with an outfit for her client. She asked me a similar question, and only then did I realize that it was no longer just people that inspired me most, but a singular person. I had always been skeptical of the idea of a ‘muse’ until I met him. But I could only spend so long denying how he ventured closer to my soul than anything ever had, how he knew me and saw me like nobody ever could. He understood my art. He was my art, so—”

Your eyes dart over your ring, and the journalist would’ve flinched out of habit if he wasn’t so mesmerized by your eloquence.

“—where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?”

A few seconds elapse, and then you clear your throat and straighten your back, returning to your office from your trip down memory lane.

“That’s the long answer, anyways. The short answer would be my fiancé.”

The journalist laughs, and he doubts you’ll give him this next piece of information—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“And who would that be?”

He’s right. You don’t answer the question. But you do flash him an enigmatic smile, and for some reason it reminds him of lightning.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe

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jazzyoranges · 3 months

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Pinky Promise - drabble

Tara Carpenter x gn!reader

Summary: cuddly Tara strikes again

Words: 0.9k

A/n: very much inspired by this fic, please go read it i beg you

This was your worst fucking nightmare. Well, something close to this.

You’d expect maybe Anika or Mindy to set you up for failure, but your own mother? You were her kin, for christ’s sake!

Not to mention the woman knew what she was doing. Once she pulled the “Oh, it seems there isn’t enough beds for all your friends! My, I must’ve counted wrong!” You knew it was over from the start.

Mindy and Anika shared a bed, Chad and Ethan shared an air bed, leaving Tara to sleep on the couch. Which, you offered Tara to sleep in your room while you slept on the couch, but god did she make it fucking hard. The brunette insisted you sleep on your bed since you were the one driving most of the time during the road trip, but unfortunately your urge for hospitality rivaled her

You argued Tara looked far sleepier, and you thought it was settled when she didn’t respond

You were pretty fucking wrong.

When the time came and you eventually left your bathroom to go to the living room, you don’t expect to see a Tara in a band tee that was about two sizes too big on her, Hello Kitty shorts that barely poked out of her large shirt, and a bunny stuffed animal you gave her not too long ago

She grabbed your hand before you knew what was happening, and pulled you into your room. Half of the reason why you didn’t want to sleep in there was because of how you could distinctly tell your teenage self wore too much eye makeup and chains. The thought makes you cringe, and Tara only laughed at your expression

“Let’s go to bed, please?” You should’ve fucking said no. But how were you supposed to? Tara was looking up at you with her big brown eyes, a shirt that was probably yours, and a sad expression. You couldn’t have said no if you tried.

So here you were, looking at the ceiling in a small bed with Tara’s back touching your arm. A blanket covered her entire body while it only covered your midsection with your hands fidgeting on top of it

You feel the younger Carpenter shiver due to your close proximity, and you realize it’s actually cold in the house. Well, you were awake and you did live here, so it was probably your responsibility to make sure everyone was comfortable. If Tara was cold, everyone else probably was too

It takes a little maneuvering to get up with as little squeaks as possible, but you’re eventually successful. You think so, until you feel something around your wrist

“Don’t sleep on the couch…” You hear Tara mumble half asleep

“You were shivering, I’m changing the temperature” You whisper back, leaning towards her as she huffs

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

Your forehead wrinkles as you think, but you eventually have an idea

“I pinky promise” You stick out the small digit of your hand, and Tara eventually meets you halfway. When she lets go you assume she approves of your leave

The journey to the thermostat isn’t a very long one and you’re back in about a minute, the only challenge being not running up the stairs because you’re afraid of the dark

Tara acts like you’ve been away for years when you come back. Once you’re in arm distance, she pulls you down very quickly

“S’not enough, still cold” Tara mumbles into your chest as she crawls on top of you like it’s nobody’s business. Her arms trap you on both sides after she pulls the blanket over you both. You can tell she’s warm when she sighs and makes sure you know how comfortable you are

“You’re like a teddy bear… my teddy bear” You don’t know how to respond, but Tara obviously does

“I can’t believe you got up for nothing”

“The others might’ve been cold, you know”

“The others can fuck off” Tara yelps when you pinch her nose

“Don’t be mean”

“Mmm… whatever” The brunette sighs again, who’s now in a position with you that resembles a cheetah and their support dog

Now this was your worst fucking nightmare.

Tara, god bless bless her, was a light sleeper. If you moved an inch she’d feel it but now that she was on top of you, you were really fucked

“You’re tense”

“Go to sleep” You whisper

“Pillows are supposed to be soft, not hard” She whispers back, looking directly into your eyes

“Last time I checked, people aren’t supposed to be pillows” Tara snickers at your dumb joke and you resist the urge to poke at her dimples

“Now you’ve got me all awake”

“Be so for real, you’d fall asleep instantly if I stopped talking to you”

“Yeah, you’re right. I would” The brunette rubs her cheek against your shirt, almost like she’s trying to burrow into your chest. A few moments pass, and you’re finally feeling the effects of driving for most of the day. You can feel your body relax more every second

“I love you” Tara whispers so quietly you don’t know if you’re hearing her correctly. You fall asleep before you figure it out

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #scream #tara carpenter #scream 6 #jenna marie ortega #ethan landry #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #anika kayoko

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jeneveuxrein · 3 months

Text

kiss and make up (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 10.1K

(posted right when the clock hits midnight in seoul, i hope everyone enjoys)

tw: brief depiction of sexual assault and actual assault

-- -- --

You watch her slip her dress on, blonde hair swept to the side as she reaches for her zipper.

“Let me,” The blanket slides down your stomach, resting on your waist as you sit behind her. You slowly bring the zipper up, kissing her softly on her shoulder as she straightens the fabric. “Do you have to go?” You murmur, lips tasting her skin, the audible sigh coming from her body.

“I do,” Rosie nods, straightening her hair to fall freely along her back. Her head turns slightly, “You know I can’t stay. He’s expecting me.”

“Are you going to have sex with him?” The question comes out harsher than you intended.

“Stop,” Rosie scoffs, shaking her head as she stands. “We haven’t done that.”

Yet, you add quietly for her in your head.

Neither of you say anything else as Rosie reaches for the ring on the nightstand, slipping it on her finger.

You’d love nothing more than to toss that offending piece of jewelry into the Han River. Hell, you’d fly over the Pacific Ocean and drop it where no one could find it.

Because if Rosie was ever going to get a ring, it was supposed to be from you.

“Are you going this weekend?” Rosie asks, placing your clothes on the bed.

You nod reluctantly, as if you had a choice about the event taking place this weekend.

It’s the annual gala for the wealthy and affluent of Seoul. Your family along with Rosie’s are attending. Her father will be saying a few words, which you’re sure that his youngest daughter’s engagement will be announced as well.

“You’re not going to leave him, are you?” It’s a rhetorical question, one you wish had a different answer.

“It’s not that simple,” Rosie rolls her eyes. You’ve known her long enough to learn her tells, and this being one that she’s tired from having the same conversation.

“It’s been a year,” You point out, reaching for your shirt. “You’re engaged now, Chaeng. It seems pretty clear that this isn’t going to continue.”

The thing with you and Rosie is that neither of you wanted to be in this position. You were born into this, this being a stupid rivalry between your fathers. You were raised to hate each other, attending the same schools, competing for the top of the class while juggling the pressures from the public eye.

Being part of Seoul’s elite made you want nothing more than to leave as soon as you finished at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. You wanted to live abroad, working for someone without having your last name be the reason you were hired.

You couldn’t, as much as you tried. You were set to inherit the family business, even though your older sister, Jisoo, was much more capable and wanted to. The multiple arguments you’ve had with your father fell on deaf ears because you were the only son and naturally, you were next in line.

Rosie, on the other hand, wasn’t set to inherit anything except for a cushion that would support her for the rest of her life while her older sister, Alice, ran the company.

It wasn’t easy for her either since her father wanted Rosie to marry someone of equal status, ultimately expanding the Park name into other industries.

When Rosie was introduced to Wonwoo, you knew that was who her father had in mind.

God forbid it be you.

As much as you two acted like you hated each other growing up, one night after a charity event three years ago was where things unfolded.

Having drunk a little more than usual at these types of events, you confided over the shared misery of your families and why everyone just couldn’t get along. Besides that, you found out how much you had in common, sharing the same interests and similar values that sparked what led into something that neither of you were prepared for.

You don’t remember who kissed who first, but that didn’t matter since you both ended up in your bed, spending the night together and realizing that this was the person you wanted to spend all your nights and mornings with.

You’re in love with Rosie, and she’s in love with you.

It’s tragic, really, at the end of the day.

Neither of your families would approve. The media would have a field day if the secret, forbidden relationship got out. You’ve imagined the headlines countlessly throughout the course of the relationship of how the media would tear you apart about two major business conglomerates’ children dating.

If not them, then your parents.

The only people that know of your affair are your siblings, Jennie, and Lisa. Though, the relationship between the latter have their own complexities that you couldn’t fathom.

“What’re you saying?” Rosie asks, crossing her arms, even though she knows exactly what you’re implying.

“We can’t do this anymore,” You say softly, tears pricking your eyes. It kills you to say that out loud, but that’s your reality. You might be meant to be together, but there’s too many things weighing on you that you don’t think you could survive. Hearing Rosie publicly engaged to Jeon Wonwoo is at the top of the list.

“What?” You’re not surprised by her reaction. You’ve had a soft spot for her and she’s always gotten her way with you, but seeing that on her finger changes things. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” You frown, avoiding her gaze. Sure, it’s a bit messed up after what you just did together, but it’s even more messed up that Rosie showed up at your apartment right after Wonwoo proposed. He’s too smitten to believe that she was going to get drinks with Lisa, celebrating the engagement.

(You absolutely knew that if you just proposed to Rosie, you’d be balls deep in her as soon as you were inside the car.)

Wonwoo’s not a bad guy, just collateral in this fucked up situation that he has remained blissfully unaware of for the past year and a half. How oblivious could he be that you’re the one Rosie fucks on the regular, screaming your name as she tells you how much she loves you, is something you didn’t understand.

You’re selfish, wanting her all to yourself, reminding her night in and night out that she was yours as much as you were hers.

When you meet Rosie’s eyes, you almost fold. She looks like she’s about to tell you off, but you watch as she slips into the cool demeanor she carries whenever she’s in a board meeting. That very same demeanor that made her into one hell of a lawyer.

“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You say honestly, “Wonwoo’s respectful, but I’m sure at some point soon, he’s going to want to make the relationship official.” In a way that you and I do, You think bitterly, biting your tongue.

“Right,” Rosie nods, a tight smile forms on her face. “So this is it? I get engaged, fuck you right after, and you’re now ending things.”

You want to argue. You want to say something like how she agreed to date-date Wonwoo while actually being in a relationship with you. It might’ve been for appearances and to please her father, but you both know that what you were doing was wrong on so many levels.

“I guess. I love you, I want to be with you, but you’re engaged. It changes everything.” She knows things will change once this engagement goes public.

Rosie doesn’t say anything else, nodding before walking out of your room, out of your apartment.

Out of your life?

You hoped not, but you’ve never had any control of your life to begin with.

“Stop moping,” Jisoo hisses, forcing a smile when another executive walks by, briefly stopping to shake both of your hands.

“I don’t want to fucking be here,” You smile, nodding politely as you greet the wife of said executive.

You’ve been quietly arguing with Jisoo since you arrived. Thankfully you didn’t share a car together because that would’ve given you a headache.

Your sister knows what happened. She pounded on your door an hour after Rosie left because allegedly the woman you’re in love with called her, in tears and distraught, telling her how you ended things. There was one missing vital piece of information that wasn’t shared—something you had to tell your sister, softening as soon as the words fell out of your mouth.

“We have, like, ten more minutes of this before you can wallow away at the bar,” Jisoo nudges you with an elbow once your aunt and Jennie approach.

You give the two women a hug, commenting on their appearance because they are Kims after all. Everyone in your family looks good, and Jennie tells you so too.

“Wow, oppa,” Jennie gives you a gummy smile, straightening your bow tie after she hugs you. “You’re actually dressed up for once.”

“Not in the mood, Jen,” You say flatly. Jennie takes a second look, and her eyes narrow.

“What happened?”

“Not the time nor place,” You wave at a bunch of people you don’t recognize. All for show, their faces blurring together as they pass. “She didn’t tell you then.”

Jennie stares at you, waiting. When you remain stoic, she rolls her eyes, walking away to most likely find the woman in question.

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Jisoo warns quietly, elbowing you in the side a little harder.

You don’t bother engaging with your sister anymore, just saying hello and answering any questions that people ask you as they walk by. It’s mechanical for you, something you’ve spent years perfecting on how to appear to people when you honestly couldn’t care about all this. You’d give it all up if that meant you could be with Rosie.

These past few days have been absolute hell for you. You’re pretty sure your body’s going through shock. You feel it in your chest anytime your mind so briefly thinks about her. You’ve dated before Rosie and heartbreak has never felt like this.

When you see the next family approaching, you automatically smile. Jisoo notices your face light up, which she scoffs because she isn’t exactly the biggest fan of who you’re smiling at.

“Hi Nayeon,” You ignore your sister, beaming as the eldest Im stands in front of you. She smiles, that same toothy one that you’ve teased her countlessly for over the years since it makes her look like a bunny.

“Hey,” Nayeon chuckles, shaking her head as she goes in for a hug. You do her one better and wrap your arms tightly around her waist, nearly lifting her feet off the ground. She lets out her boisterous laugh, hitting you on the shoulder. “Put me down!”

You’re laughing, actually giving a genuine smile, as you do what she says. You keep your arms loose around her. Anyone passing by would think you’re together, which you do hear them commenting on how close you are.

“If either of you want to make headlines this evening, please for the love of god, stop,” Jisoo mumbles, shaking her head as she greets Nayeon’s sister.

“We’re just having fun, Sooya,” Nayeon rolls her eyes, taking a step back before sending you a wink.

“Yeah well, the night’s going to get more interesting,” Jisoo tilts her head toward the entrance. “The Parks are here.”

You don’t want to look, but you can’t help yourself. Your gaze lands on Rosie. She looks absolutely stunning, wearing a strapless white gown that hugs her body perfectly, hourglass figure and all. It reminds you of a wedding dress, and something inside you breaks when you see Wonwoo right behind her.

“Wow, Chaeyoung looks gorgeous,” Nayeon comments. Her sister nods approvingly while you don’t miss the concerned look on your sister’s face.

You excuse yourself without waiting for any of the women around you. You beeline straight for the bar, needing something to ease the tightness in your chest. Hearing the crowd murmurs of Rosie and Wonwoo don’t help either. You even catch someone mentioning the ring, causing you to pick up the pace.

Lisa intercepts you when you’re a few feet away, “Hey,” Her hand wraps around your bicep, stopping your rendezvous with a bottle of scotch.

The brave face you put on at the beginning of the night cracks and she gives you a sympathetic smile. If there’s anyone Rosie would confide in, Lisa will be at the top of the list.

“Hi Lili.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lisa asks politely, gently guiding you towards the bar, the grip on your arm strong enough to keep you from running in the opposite direction.

“Not entirely,” You shrug, but not enough to shake her arm off.

Lisa doesn’t push, which is one of the many reasons you consider her a close friend. Aside from the fact she’s secretly dating your cousin, she’s someone you trust. Even though Lisa’s a foreigner, she blends in well with this crowd, and that’s saying a lot. Everyone’s aware she’s not Korean by any means, but she’s networked enough that she has a seat at the table. The relationship she has with all of you have helped too, something she acknowledges, but it’s all her.

Once you reach the bar, you pull out the chair for Lisa. You get teased a little for acting so gentlemanly since your relationship with her has always been platonic—for obvious reasons.

“You haven’t spoken to her.”

“Of course I haven’t,” You nod when the bartender brings over your glass of whiskey. You take it one go. The usual burn doesn’t faze you as it travels through your body.

“She misses you,” Lisa says casually behind a wine glass.

You scoff. Your temper flares because while it could be true, there hasn’t been any moment since you last saw Rosie that she let you know how she felt. You’ve laid it out to her that you’d give up everything if it meant you could be together, but she was scared.

“She wants to be with you.”

“Sure she does,” You answer sarcastically. “If she did, we’d be engaged. Probably married by now.”

“Come on, don’t be like this,” Lisa shakes her head, placing her empty wine glass on the counter.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up before you could respond. You’re suddenly hyper aware of someone’s presence behind you, that you don’t need to turn around to see who it is.

“Hi,” You hear Rosie greet softly.

Lisa turns around first, standing to hug her best friend. You don’t make any moves to engage, at least not without signaling to the bartender for another drink. He’s in front of you, giving you a heavy pour before moving onto the next person. Without waiting, you take the drink in one go again, the liquid amber burning stronger than the first.

Slipping on the mask you had when you arrived, you turn to face the two women. “Chaeyoung,” You nod, acknowledging her for the first time this evening. It’s a low blow to call her by her Korean name because she’s reserved her English name just for you. “You look great,” You say with an easy smile.

There’s more you want to say, like how she’s beautiful and all that, but you don’t think that’d be appropriate given the time and place and circumstances.

“Thanks,” Rosie says quietly, the smile on her face hardly reaches her eyes. “Can we-”

“I’d love to stay and chat, but you know, duty calls,” You interrupt, scanning the room for anyone to pull you out of this conversation. Ironically, your gaze meets Nayeon across the crowd, waving you over. “My presence is needed,” You tilt your head in Nayeon’s direction. Rosie’s eyes narrow when she sees who’s exactly demanding your presence.

That’s a whole other story because you’re all aware of the crush Nayeon’s harbored for you over the years–something that peeved Rosie knowing that your mother’s approval of her if something were to happen.

But maybe it was time for you to move on.

“Have a great night, Chaeyoung,” You bow slightly before sidestepping around Lisa. “Congrats on the engagement, by the way. Wonwoo’s a lucky guy.”

You don’t bother waiting for her response, walking away before you could hear it.

Each step away feels heavier the farther you go. Every nerve in your body screams at you to turn back around.

You don’t.

You tend to sneak away in events like this. It’s a habit you developed as a teenager when high power executives and the like would talk to you about things you had no interest in.

That’s how you end up on the outdoor terrace. It’s empty aside from a couple members of the event staff taking a smoke break, but they don’t pay you any mind, too engrossed in their own conversations about the worst person they’ve interacted with so far. You know that they’ll be back to work in a few minutes.

You lean against the railing, letting the crisp cool air invade your lungs as you stare at the city skyline. It sobers you up just a bit, but you’ll admit you’re drunk—more than what your mother would deem appropriate at an event this big.

You have to thank Nayeon for your current state. She immediately knew something was off after you left Rosie and Lisa at the bar. She didn’t ask, but she offered to ditch once the speeches were over. You compromised, only wanting to stay for the foundation’s before Rosie’s father spoke. She understood without question. She didn’t prod as to why specifically before that speech.

The sound of heels coming to a halt behind you breaks you out of your thoughts. You sigh because there’s only one person that knows this habit of yours.

“What do you want?” You ask without turning around.

“Can we talk?” Rosie asks quietly that it forces you to turn around.

“Okay, go ahead,” You cross your arms, jaw clenching as you try to control the wave of emotions crashing through you as you stare at her.

“Let’s go somewhere more private, please,” She reaches for your arm, but her hand drops when she hears the quiet chatter from the staff a few feet away.

You relent, pushing yourself off the railing as she walks back inside. You have no choice but to follow her, and you’re on edge when she chooses to walk into a private bathroom.

Once the door shuts, you hold your breath, the tension between you much more obvious in an enclosed space. You feel suffocated by being this close to her when all you want to do is pull her against you.

“What do you want, Chaeng?” Your shoulders drop, the mental and emotional exhaustion catching up to you. You’re tired and just want to get as far away from this, from her, to think clearly.

“I…I don’t know,” Rosie looks away, leaning against the marbled counter as the door holds you up.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” You gesture to the space in between you. “If anyone sees us together, we’re both screwed.”

You watch her move, something brewing beneath as she keeps her eyes on you. She walks toward you, bringing her arm back. Your head tilts in question as her dress slowly slides down her body.

“Chaeng,” Your voice comes out low, hoarse as Rosie reveals what’s underneath–a white lace corset with the matching bottoms to go with. For how long you’ve been together, she knows your weaknesses, and if she had the garter belt, you would’ve taken her right there.

She planned this.

“What?” Rosie stands in front of you, keeping the smallest bit of space in between you that any movement, her body would be pressed against yours.

“You’re engaged,” A strong reminder more to you than her. Your hand twitches, but you keep it at your side, not wanting to give her the upper hand.

“I’ve told you time and time again, it’s not that simple,” Rosie leans forward, her breath ghosting over your lips. “What’re we supposed to do? Just leave everything behind?”

“Yes,” You shake your head, frustrated. It’s the same conversation you’ve been having with her since she started public dating Wonwoo and it’s still not sinking in that you’d make it work. “It’s not like we don’t have connections outside of our family to support ourselves.”

“You think too much,” Rosie rests her weight against you. Your cock stirs at the contact. “I love you, you know this. Is that not enough?”

“Chaeng,” You gulp when her hand slips in between your bodies, palming your cock over your slacks. You’re naturally conditioned to react to whatever Rosie does to you, big or small. She could tie her hair in a ponytail and you’d immediately get hard at the sight. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?” Rosie drops to her knees, her eyes demanding your attention.

You grit your teeth as she undoes your belt. Her hands deftly work to unbutton your pants, tugging them down as she pulls your cock out. “What’re you doing?” You groan, head falling back against the door, the sensation of her soft hands wrapping around your girth.

“Are you complaining?” Her tongue sticks out, licking the tip before she kisses the same spot. Her hands were doing wonders on you as all the blood in your body rushed south.

“You know I’m not,” You moan as she takes you fully into her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks. You glance down, which is a mistake, to a filthy sight of your length halfway in her mouth.

“Then shut up,” Rosie takes a breath, pulling back slightly before repeating the motion. Her hands weren’t idle, stroking at a pace that spread her saliva along what wasn’t in her mouth.

You obediently listen, biting your lip to cover your moans as she goes lower with each movement.

You don’t know what came over her.

That’s a small lie. You could assume what spurred this. Besides your feeble attempt at ending things a few nights prior, Rosie seeing you interact–flirt–with Nayeon would be at the top of the list. It’s not like she would outright admit that she gets jealous because she’ll swear up and down she doesn’t, but you’ve been with her long enough to know how possessive she gets when it comes to you.

Your hand finds her hair, gently rubbing her scalp as she continues her ministrations. The moment you tighten your grip to increase her pace, she stops all movement. She lets off your cock with a resounding pop before standing up.

“We have to be quick,” Rosie mutters, standing to turn, and walks to the counter before stepping out of her thong. Your eyes never leave her form, watching her expression darken in the mirror. She bends slightly, shaking her ass in front of you.

You’re a simple guy. Naturally when a woman as gorgeous as Rosie offers herself up to you, you can’t exactly say no. You’ll deal with any ramifications later, but right now the only thought coursing through your body is to fuck her, and fuck her hard.

“We’re not supposed to be doing this,” You say, even though your hands grab her waist to steady you both. Her bare bottom presses against your very erect cock, the length in between her cheeks. You see how much precum leaks out of the tip as she tries to get you inside, missing completely.

“You’re clearly not stopping. We don’t have much time,” Rosie moans softly as your length rubs against her clit.

You shake your head, meeting her gaze in the mirror, a fiery look set in her eyes. You feel something weighing on your shoulders because you said you were done.

“Just fuck me,” Rosie demands and one of your hands drop, gripping your cock.

You tease a little, rubbing the head against her opening. She’s absolutely drenched that you slide right in.

Both of you moan, her eyes rolling back at being filled. You clench your jaw as she takes you in, the inner muscles tightening at the sudden intrusion. Once her bottom presses against your pelvis, you take a breath, needing it so you wouldn’t cum right away.

Based on how her pussy keeps contracting, it won’t take you very long.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Rosie hisses, and you pull your hips back before thrusting again. “I need your cock now.”

You set a quick pace, watching the sight of your cock disappearing in and out of Rosie’s body. You stifle your moans by resting your chin on her shoulder, biting down as she lets out a gasp with every movement. You realize she’s getting louder, the pitch getting higher. You did not need anyone walking in, especially since you didn’t lock the door.

Your free hand snakes around to cover her mouth, but Rosie surprises you when she pulls your hand to her throat, your fingers encircling her neck.

Rosie nods, giving you the green light, as your fingers gently squeeze. As soon as you do, her pussy tightens more and she pushes her hips into yours, meeting every thrust as the skin slaps. You knew her body well enough that she was close, especially the right angle to hit her sweet spot as she rolls down and along your length.

“I’m not going to last,” You whimper, panting against her ear.

“Inside,” Rosie gasps out, back arching as you lose your rhythm. Her orgasm triggers yours, causing you to thrust wildly, pounding, stretching, and the grip on her neck tightening. Her hand clamps on your forearm, loosening the hold as you paint her insides white.

You lose focus for a second, mind going blank as Rosie’s pussy rhythmically squeezes your cock, milking you for everything you have.

You didn’t know how long it had been. It could’ve been five minutes or five hours, but your cock softens as you slip out. You kiss the back of her head, as both of you catch your breath.

You don’t get the chance to see your cum flow out of her because her back straightens. Rosie turns, her chest against yours, arms resting loosely on your shoulder. Her fingers play with the hair on your neck while she stares up at you. She kisses you softly on the lips, smiling, before leaning against the counter. She keeps you close, spreading her legs that you slot perfectly in between as she gently pecks your cheeks and jaw.

It feels different to be with her like this.

You know what you’re doing is wrong on so many levels, but she’s your greatest weakness that you couldn’t resist her even if you tried.

“We should go back to the party,” Rosie mumbles, nipping at your bottom lip before letting out a sigh.

“Sure, whatever you want,” You honestly wanted to go back to your apartment and just cuddle, but you couldn’t exactly leave without drawing attention or questioning from your parents.

“Seriously, we should go,” Rosie makes no move to leave. Instead you feel her tongue in your mouth.

“Okay,” You nod against her mouth, which is also doing wonders, tempting you to go for another round.

Rosie pulls back, kissing you sweetly one last time. Her hand taps your shoulder, and you automatically step away, instantly missing her because you don’t know when, or if, this is going to happen again.

It’s a familiar sight as Rosie picks up her clothes from the floor. She fixes her hair, straightening the strands as best she could. You pulled your pants up, tucking your shirt in while she washed her hands.

“You should probably wait a few minutes after I leave,” Rosie says softly, wiping her hands before bringing her gaze to you in the reflection.

You agree, nodding, as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

No other words are said as you watch Rosie open the door, poking her head in the hallway as she checks if the coast is clear. Before walking out, she says, “I love you.”

One moment you’re chuckling at something Lisa says as she and Nayeon follow behind you. Nayeon invited Lisa on the way out as the speeches were commencing, which based on how it was looking with Jennie for the evening, Lisa made the decision to leave as well. She said she’d tell Jennie to meet after.

The next moment you hear someone in distress around the corner. Your pace slows when the women bump into you.

It takes you a split second before you realize that the person in distress is Rosie.

Wonwoo has Rosie pressed up against the wall, her leg straining against his as you notice his hand squirming to get in between her legs.

“Oh no, I’ll get security—Wait!” Nayeon gasps quietly behind you, but you hardly hear it because in the next moment, your feet move on their own accord and you swing your fist at Wonwoo, knuckles hitting square in the jaw and knocking his balance for him to get off of Rosie.

You think you hear Rosie scream, but you tune everything out because you’re pummeling him into the ground. You don’t care if you’re making a scene. There was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever let something like this slide with any woman, but the fact that it’s Rosie, the woman you’re in love with, all bets are off.

It isn’t until a few moments later, someone grabs you by your blazer, tearing you off Wonwoo, when everything equalizes. You hear Rosie crying behind you with Lisa trying her best to console her. Your hands ache as you open your fists, a searing pain along your knuckles. The grip on your blazer slackens before you realize it was Rosie’s father—Mr. Park himself—that pulled you off.

“What the fuck is happening here?” His voice comes out stern.

You notice the security guards tending to Wonwoo, whose face is covered by his hands, blood smeared all over his skin.

You’re going to be in deep shit from your parents, but you didn’t give a fuck. You would’ve killed him if no one stopped you.

“Mr. Park,” Nayeon interjects and you see a police officer next to her. Said police officer is her uncle—the police chief of Seoul. “We saw Wonwoo forcing himself on Chaeyoung. I went to grab security.”

A multitude of emotions cross Mr. Park’s face and you’ve never seen him angry before, but this would probably be the first time. It’s terrifying.

He doesn’t respond to what Nayeon says, walking over to where Wonwoo is. The Jeon heir looks up as Mr. Park says something to him none of you can hear when his eyes widen, desperately shaking his head, as he loudly apologizes.

“Oppa, let’s get you cleaned up,” Nayeon suggests, a loose hand wraps around your forearm.

You nod numbly, avoiding Rosie’s eyes as you walk by. Lisa’s still comforting her when Jennie and Jisoo rush over.

“Why are your hands covered in blood?!” Jennie freaks out, hand covering her mouth.

“Later, Jennie,” Nayeon pulls you away as a crowd starts to form, hiding you as best she could before anyone notices.

Nayeon leads you out of the building, forcing you to sit on a bench as she makes a phone call. She lets you know she’s calling her driver to take you home, but it doesn’t process as your blood’s still boiling over what you witnessed.

You have half the mind to go back inside and continue with your fists, but when you go to stand, Nayeon’s pushing you down. “No,” Nayeon says firmly, “Sit your ass down. You’re not going back in there.”

“But-” You try to speak for the first time since.

“Absolutely not.” Nayeon glares. “My uncle will take care of it. Leave the rest to them.”

“Fine,” You pout, rolling your eyes.

Nayeon keeps her gaze on you as she speaks with her driver. She ends the call, “Habin will be here in about ten minutes.” She sits next to you, crossing her legs as she stares at you curiously.

After a few seconds too long of feeling uncomfortable, you can’t take it anymore, grunting out, “Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Nayeon says, shrugging, but you can sense the curiosity getting to her.

“You’re staring.”

“Would you believe me if I told you you're hot?” There’s a teasing tone in her voice that has you rolling your eyes.

“No.”

“Well you are,” Nayeon chuckles, “But that’s not why I’m staring.”

“Stop beating around the bush, ask what you want.”

“How long have you and Chaeyoung been seeing each other?”

The question catches you off guard. Of all people, Nayeon was the last one you expected to pick up on your relationship. Jennie told you that Nayeon was sharp, having a good intuition about things, and you should’ve believed her.

You go straight into denial, “What? Rosie and me? That’s absurd.”

Nayeon clicks her tongue, a satisfied humming sound leaves her throat, “Rosie?”

Shit.

None of Seoul’s elite refers to Rosie as ‘Rosie.’ In business meetings with foreign companies, yes, but in a casual conversation like this, no.

You sigh dejectedly. There’s no point in denying it. Nayeon wouldn’t believe you either way.

“A little over three years,” You confess, head dropping into your hands.

“Assuming her parents didn’t know their youngest was already in a relationship before Wonwoo?” Nayeon asks, hitting it right on the money.

“They did not,” You confirm, nodding in your palms.

“Wouldn’t approve, eh?” She’s right again as you grunt, taking that as an affirmative. “Well, I hope things work out in the end. If this doesn’t prove to Mr. Park you care about his daughter, nearly killing someone, then he’s an idiot.”

You actually smile.

-- --

It’s Monday and you’re not in your office.

Your assistant, Mina, texted you early this morning that you were to report to the Park’s building for a meeting with the CEO—Rosie’s father. You tried to get out of it, calling her as soon as you read it, but she couldn’t do anything. Your father specifically, borderline demanded, requested that your morning be cleared for this.

You hadn’t spoken to your parents since the gala. They blew up your phone as soon as they realized you left and after finding out what happened, thanks to Jisoo tipping you off about the flurry of messages and calls coming your way. You turned your phone off the following day, taking a much needed break from everyone. You didn’t hear from Rosie, which you were glad because you couldn’t face her. You were ashamed of getting violent in front of her. She didn’t need to see that side of you, but you couldn’t help it because it was her that was in danger.

You don’t regret it one bit though. You’d do it again without hesitation.

So here you are, waiting awkwardly in the seat as Mr. Park’s secretary types away at the screen.

When you arrived, she didn’t say anything to you except to have a seat and Mr. Park will be with you shortly.

You have no idea if you’re in trouble. The police didn’t show up at your place the day after, so you could safely assume no one was pressing charges. You do want to know what he said to Wonwoo that had him begging for forgiveness.

You haven’t seen your parents either. You’re under the assumption at least one of them would be here, but Mina herself didn’t know when you asked.

The office door opens and when you look who it is, it’s your father, motioning you to come in.

You bow when you stand, walking inside the office to Mr. Park leaning against his desk. He gives you a gentle smile when he sees you.

You automatically notice Rosie sitting off to the side on one of the couches near the window. She averts her gaze when she meets yours, something deflating inside of you.

“Please,” The Park patriarch gestures to the seat in front of him. “Sit.” It’s not a demand, but there’s no question you won’t do what he says.

Your father takes the seat next to yours, clearing his throat, “Chaeyoung told us some things this morning.”

You brace yourself, not sure which direction this conversation was going to go. You and Rosie never discussed what you would tell your parents, so she could have literally said anything.

When you don’t respond, your father continues, “It’s been brought to our attention that you’ve been actually dating for the past three years. Is that right?”

You nod, waiting for the pin to drop.

It never does because Mr. Park says, “Thank you for protecting my daughter.”

Uh?

You laugh awkwardly, hand reaching to scratch the back of your neck, “Yes, of course, sir.”

“No, you don’t understand. My daughter was engaged to him, and he’s disgusting,” You’ve never heard such contempt from someone. “If I actually announced their engagement while he tried something like that, it would look bad and my daughter would be stuck with a monster.”

“What he’s saying,” Your father can tell you’re confused, “Is that if you and Chaeyoung decide to be together, we approve. Your mother’s very proud of you for being quick to stop something bad from happening, though a little scared what would’ve happened if no one intervened, but regardless, it’s okay.”

Your shoulders feel so light after hearing those words come out of his mouth. You nod in understanding, doing your best to keep your composure.

“We’ll let you be. We have lunch to go over some things,” Your father says, a gentle hand squeezes your shoulder.

Mr. Park’s hand’s in your face, forcing you to shake it as you stand up, bowing graciously as they walk out of the room, leaving you alone with Rosie, who still hasn’t looked you in the eye since you walked in.

Once the door shuts, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Rosie,” You say softly, but she still doesn’t look up. She keeps her eyes focused on the floor. You roll your eyes, walking to stand in front of her, kneeling to be in her line of sight. “Chaeng.”

“I’m sorry,” Rosie’s lips quiver, tears visibly forming in her eyes. “I should’ve called you yesterday, but my mother and Alice took me out of the city. I was so shaken up.”

“Hey, hey,” You reach for her hands, kissing them softly to soothe her worries. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re okay right?” She nods solemnly. “Then don’t worry.”

“I should explain-” Your index finger presses against her lips.

“No need,” You brush off casually. You didn’t need to hear it. There’s a high chance you’d just get riled up having to hear about it.

“I was breaking up with him,” Rosie mumbles against your finger. “I started to walk away so I could tell my father when he, he-” Her voice cracks.

You move swiftly, wrapping your arms around her as you pull her into an embrace, gently soothing her arm as you kiss the top of her head, “Baby it’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here.”

“I love you,” Rosie cries into your chest, burying her face into you as her body shakes against yours. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Words aren’t needed. You hug Rosie tighter, silently promising to never let her go. You can’t change what happened, but you can control what happens next.

“I love you,” You whisper against her temple, kissing softly as she breaks down in your arms even more. “Is it a bad time to ask you out?”

Rosie shakes her head, giggling through the tears, “Like on an actual date?” She lifts her head, a watery smile painted on her face.

You nod, lips curling up as you wipe the tears away.

“Yes.”

-- --

You hang your arm loosely around Rosie’s shoulder, waiting for your driver to pick you up to take you home. She laughs at something Jennie says, but you’re hardly paying attention to their conversation.

Your mind is preoccupied on other things.

It’s Rosie’s birthday and Lisa rented out a club in Hongdae to celebrate.

It’s been a few months since that night. Rosie and you have had to learn how to navigate your relationship in the public eye. Aside from many gossip columns speculating about the sudden romance, there have been numerous business analysts forecasting a merger between the families.

Which your father has told you would happen if you were to propose to Rosie in the future.

Something that you want to do now, even though Rosie thinks it’s best to wait a year for the sake of appearances.

“Oppa,” Jennie whines as Lisa holds her up, the effects of alcohol hitting her and the woman next to you. “Let’s go to one more place! I’m hungry.”

“Go to McDonald’s,” You roll your eyes, irritated with your cousin.

You want to spend some time with Rosie, alone, because of the little stunts she’s been pulling throughout the night.

She’s been relentlessly teasing you, drifting her hand on your thigh, even brazenly palming you over your jeans underneath the table while the cake was brought out.

You did your best to keep a straight face through it all, but it was hard when she asked you to dance with her friends. You usually shied away from any public displays of affection besides holding hands, but you couldn’t resist her.

Especially with the way she was dancing on you.

“Baby,” Rosie pouts, looking up at you. “Can we go with them?”

“Chaeng,” Your jaw clenches, sending her a pointed look.

“Oi,” Lisa laughs. You see her shaking her head in your periphery.

“Please,” Rosie ignores her friend. She even makes her lip quiver, that you have no choice but to say fine. She claps her hands excitedly before giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll make it up to you,” She murmurs against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“It’s your birthday,” You clear your throat. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” Rosie leans back, raising an eyebrow.

You nod hesitantly. There’s a mirthful gleam in her eyes that whatever you had in mind, she has something else.

Rosie’s lips move slowly against yours, tongue dipping in and around your mouth that has every nerve firing. Your hands tighten on her hips, guiding her movements, even though you’ve been powerless since you arrived back at your place.

There’s too many things going on at once that have you blanking out. The only thing you can remotely focus on is the sensation of her slick over your cock.

It’s been torture watching, feeling, Rosie grind herself on you without letting you inside. You’re not sure what her end game is, but you’re dying for something other than this. It’s hot, no shit, but you’ve been on edge the whole night that you’re almost ninety-nine percent sure the moment her walls touch your length, you’ll bust.

“God,” Rosie moans against you, body shaking, and it’s orgasm number two for her without any relief for you.

“Baby, please,” You whine, hands gripping her waist as she starts moving again. You’re at the point of begging.

Rosie’s hands are on your chest, pushing herself up. You make the mistake of glancing down and your cock’s nestled in between her lips, covered in a light sheen from her orgasms, and there’s precum leaking from your tip.

“What’s wrong?” The teasing tone in her voice as you watch her swirl her hips in a circle has you hypnotized. Your cock brushes against her clit and you swear you feel her pulse.

“Why are you being a fucking tease?” You groan, head thrown back as she continues to rub herself along your length.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rosie murmurs, placing her hands on your abdomen.

After a few more minutes, your tip brushes against her opening. She lets out a surprised moan at the unexpected intrusion. Much to your dismay, she doesn’t take you in.

“Chaeng,” You inhale sharply. “Seriously, come on.”

Rosie hums, clicking her tongue as if an idea just came to her.

“What if I got pregnant?”

What?

“Like, can you imagine? My father would probably kill you,” Rosie says casually when you don’t respond, too stunned by her question. “You’re practically throbbing down there.”

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind. You’re definitely going to propose to Rosie when she thinks it’s the right time. You’ve talked about having kids, something you couldn’t care much for, but she’s thrown around the idea of it. If you wanted kids, you’d want her to be the mother.

Though, the process of having kids is what gets you the most.

Something Rosie knows absolutely gets you wild, nearly feral at the thought of filling her m as much as possible.

“Chaeng,” Your voice is low, hands stopping her movements. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck a baby in you?”

“I mean,” Rosie shrugs, casting her hair behind her back, “Wouldn’t that solve the problem?”

“What fucking problem?” Your patience’s running thin as your hips involuntarily roll up.

“You know, the one where girls think you’re still single, even though all of Seoul should know you’re taken,” Rosie rolls her eyes, and her attitude is pissing you off.

Your mind replays every situation, every interaction you had tonight. Mostly everyone that was there was your friend. There were a few people you knew of, but didn’t engage with them as much since they were more Rosie’s friends than yours.

Nothing stands out, except for one.

A light bulb goes off in your head because Rosie doesn’t get jealous, per say.

Possessive is a better word to describe it.

While Rosie was off taking shots with her friends, you were idly sitting at the table, waiting for Jungkook and Minwoo when a girl you didn’t know walked up to you. You weren’t sure if she was Rosie’s friend, but when she introduced herself as Chaewon, you knew what she wanted and you were her target for the night.

You generally don’t entertain women when they come up to you, but Chaewon had disarmed you easily, charming you with a coy smile and flirty glances that you completely missed the daggers Rosie was sending her and you across the room.

The moment immediately passed as soon as Rosie plopped herself on your lap, crossing her legs in between yours, before kissing you heatedly that by the time she took her lips off you, Chaewon disappeared.

It paints a clearer picture why Rosie’s suddenly dangling pregnancy in your face. It’s more for her to claim you than anything.

“Is that what you want?” You sit up, wrapping your arms around her body. Kissing her softly before murmuring, “You want people to know who I belong to?”

“I’m sure people know,” Rosie whispers seductively, “But it wouldn’t hurt for them to know that I’m the one that you can’t keep your hands off.”

“Baby, I’m sure they know,” You smile against her lips.

“Well,” Rosie huffs, too distracted by the way you move your mouth over hers, tongue finding its way in between her lips. “I want them to know for sure.”

“Then let me fuck you baby,” Your hips roll up, brushing against her clit as she moans. She shakes her head, gently pushing you to lay back.

Rosie’s hand slips between your bodies, a light grip encircling your cock as she aims the tip to her opening. She gently slaps the head, catching her clit in the process, before settling at her entrance.

“Rosie,” You grit out, eyes locked on your cock in between her folds.

“Watch me,” Rosie positions herself, careful not to slide you in just yet, placing her hands to balance on your cock.

It’s something you’ll never tire of, no matter how many times you and Rosie have sex—and it’s a lot.

Her hips swivel, adjusting, as she slowly drops down, your cock disappearing in her body. You’re engulfed by her heat, her walls stretch to accommodate your size, and you see stars as your eyes roll back.

“Baby,” Rosie’s voice cracks, “Eyes on me.”

Your gaze falls back to your cock gone, completely sheathed by her that she uses her inner muscles to squeeze. You can’t help but thrust into her, jolting her body as her breasts bounce.

“Nope,” Rosie clicks her tongue, shaking her head in disappointment. “Hands here,” She places them in the divot where her legs meet her hips, hands over yours as she slowly rocks her hips.

“God,” She chokes out, “We fuck a lot, yet it’s always so much.”

You don’t have any words because you’re too blissed out by her movements. Any coherent thoughts are out the window because she’s right.

It is so much.

You’re lost in her that your eyes roll back once she moves up carefully, methodically, before dropping her hips over you, repeating the motion that has you gripping her thighs roughly.

“Imagine,” Rosie says lowly, looking at you through hooded eyes, “If you did get me pregnant. Just me carrying your child because you couldn’t help yourself. The media would be all over us.”

Her words trigger a memory of the first time you and Rosie had sex, deciding together to go without a condom because she was safe and she trusted you enough. You don’t think you’ve ever fucked anyone like you fucked her.

“Baby,” You can’t control the moan that falls from your lip after a hard drop. “Don’t.”

“What?” She stops her movement, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t want to? You’re the only guy I’ve ever let cum inside me.”

“Jesus fuck, Chaeng,” Your hands drop from her hips. “You’re a fucking—”

“Tease? Slut? Whore?” Rosie swivels her hips in a figure eight, cutting you off. “It doesn’t matter what anyone calls me. I’m yours.”

You have no control over your body as your hips move on its own accord, meeting every one of her gyrations with precision.

“Come on,” Rosie goads, bending forward to kiss you briefly on the lips, “You don’t want everyone to know that?”

Of course you do. People do know that Rosie’s yours, but the love bites and the like don’t compare to her being pregnant—the ultimate claim.

In a quick move, keeping your cock in between her legs, you reverse positions, and Rosie’s on her back.

“God yes,” Nails digging into your shoulders as you slide your length from her warmth before snapping forward.

You buck into Rosie, thrusting wildly as the need to breed her takes the forefront of your mind. The thought of her belly swollen has you nearly going feral.

You try to lean back, wanting to see your cock spearing through her walls, but her grip takes her with you. You watch as she rolls her body in waves, mesmerizing you as your cock moves in and out. Your hand splays over her stomach, and you could be imagining it, but you swear you feel your cock hitting her front walls.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Rosie taunts, eyes barely open with a dopey smile on her face.

You grunt, too engrossed as she leans back, one hand on your shoulder as the other rests over your hand. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, bouncing rapidly on your cock like she’s in heat. Your thumb sneaks down, slipping underneath her hood to rub her clit. Her eyes widen before a sudden pressure grips your length.

Rosie screams as her orgasm rips through her body, back arching as she pushes her chest forward, before convulsing, spasming all over you before you feel your cock getting forced out. A stream of clear liquid expels from her, drenching your crotch and thighs. You groan at her squirting because it’s happened before, but holy shit this feels more intense, more primal as you watch her eyes roll back at the pleasure consuming her body.

She lets go, body falling limp on the bed as you stare at the woman you love in complete awe. Her pussy’s soaked, hole pulsing as she swings her leg over you, rolling onto her stomach.

Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, but you’re surprisingly still hard, that you can’t wait. You move her legs with ease, straightening one and slightly bending the other before settling between her legs.

“You didn’t cum?” Rosie asks, surprised, voice shaking as you aim your cock at her opening again.

“No,” You’re able to answer before sinking in, engulfed by her heat once more.

It won’t take you very long because you’re rutting into her like your life depending on it. Hips rolling after every thrust has your stomach tightening from your impending orgasm.

“You fuck me so well,” She moans uncontrollably, sobbing into the pillow as she continues to babble nonsense, hands balling into the bedsheets.

You’re hardly paying attention to what she’s saying as you watch her ass ripple with every thrust. Your hands grip her cheeks, spreading them wide to her puckered hole.

“Would you let me fuck your ass?” You ask, absentmindedly massaging the muscles. She doesn’t need to answer because her body does for her, her walls tightening at the question. “That’s a yes,” Chuckling as you save that for a later time.

Rosie mumbles something into the pillow that has you leaning forward, pressing your cheek against hers.

“What was that?” Hips never ceasing as they continue their onslaught, slamming in and out.

“Daddy please. Cum inside me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried.

The word had never been used before, but it sparked something dark in you. Your hips stutter, breaking your rhythm, after one, two, three thrusts you explode inside of her, painting her inner walls that trigger another orgasm from the woman wrapped around your cock.

“God—shit, fuck,” You lazily thrust inside her one more time before groaning against her hair.

Your cock twitches as her velvet walls keep contracting, draining you for all that you have, making sure you don’t leave her empty.

You move her hair to the side, exposing her neck and back, placing soft, tender kisses—a stark contrast to what you were just doing to her—all over her skin. You don’t want to pull out, too comfortable with her snug warm walls, and you’re almost certain she wouldn’t care if you stayed inside her, too cock drunk to even notice.

Rosie lets out a pathetic whine as you regretfully pull out. Your cock’s covered in your shared fluids as her you take a good look at the mess you made. You notice a dribble of cum ooze out of her lower lips, and just to fuck with her more since you’re a little shit, you use your finger to push it back in.

“Hey,” Rosie moans softly as you deftly massage her walls, spreading the load. “Too much.”

You nod, removing your finger, but not without brushing over her clit. She weakly slaps you away as you chuckle, dropping your weight next to her. She immediately turns to face you, pulling you into her and throwing a leg lazily over yours.

You bask in the moment, letting the endorphins release as you listen to Rosie sigh contentedly.

“You’re not serious about getting pregnant, right?” You ask, slightly nervous as the post-orgasm clarity hits.

Rosie giggles, shaking her head as she looks at you, “You really think I’d go off birth control without talking to you?”

Smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. It just caught me off guard.”

“Sorry, just felt extra attentive for you tonight since it was my birthday,” Rosie kisses your jaw.

“Do you mean jealous?” You quip, which earns you a light slap on the chest.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I don’t get jealous,” Rosie pouts all cutely that you chuckle.

“I can’t help that I’m such a hot commodity,” Another slap.

“Yeah well you’ve been off the market for almost four years, you think I’m going to really let some girl get to me?”

“I’ve had to go on dates with people my parents set me up with. How do you know I didn’t sleep with them?” You tease, earning a pinch this time.

“Because you literally came over after every single one,” Rosie rolls her eyes. “I’d remind you that there wouldn’t be anyone else, don’t you remember?”

The few dates your parents forced you to go on resulted in some of the hottest sex you’ve had with Rosie. You remember vividly the things she did so you never had to think twice about being with another woman.

It’s making you hard again at the memory.

“I feel you twitching,” Rosie smirks, shaking her head. “Let’s sleep first, okay?”

“Fine,” You pout. Though, you have one more question. “One last thing?”

Rosie hums, snuggling into the crook of your neck.

“Marry me?”

Rosie pulls back, gaze meeting yours, searching your face for an answer she only knows. “You’re serious this time.”

“I’m serious every time I ask,” You scoff.

“No, but this is different,” Rosie sits up. “Do you have a ring?”

“In my sock drawer, all the way in the back,” You answer simply.

You watch her slide out of bed, walking to the dresser. She slips on one of your old university shirts from when you studied abroad before digging through the mentioned drawer. She pulls the small velvet box out before joining you on the bed.

“How long have you had this?” She asks softly, staring at the box.

“Honestly?” Rosie nods. “Two years. Lisa’s the only one that knows. Jennie might, but if she does, she’s never said anything.”

“You were that sure about us?” Her voice trembles as she looks at you.

“Yeah.” You didn’t know what was going to happen back then, but all you did know was that you wanted to be with Rosie. You would’ve given everything up right then and there if your parents didn’t approve.

You still would.

“You’re a big softie, you know that?” Rosie smiles.

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone. I have an image to uphold.”

The small box is placed in your hands, and Rosie gives you an encouraging smile.

“You sure? Didn’t you want to wait a year?”

Rosie shrugs, “It was advised by Alice, mainly because it was already a big deal that two rivaling companies’ kids were dating that she suggested waiting was the best for the news outlets to cool down. But at this rate, I don’t think I could wait.”

You open the box, the diamond shining brightly in the low lit room.

It’s a fond memory of how you picked this ring, mainly because of the woman you took with you. She dragged you to five different places, even suggesting flying to Paris since she had connections there. You argued that leaving to Europe would raise suspicion to Rosie. Lisa pointed out some ostentatious design with diamonds around the band would be the best, which the jeweler agreed—most likely wanting to get a bigger commission. You shook your head, opting for a simple solitaire, a three-carat diamond that still had a hefty price tag.

You take a deep breath, smiling at the woman in your bed, unshed tears in her eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes,” Rosie cries, throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a heated kiss.

You drop the box, uncaring about where it goes. Your hands find themselves on her hips, lifting your fiancée onto your lap. Neither of you are clothed from the waist down, and you’re surprised with how wet she is.

“Already?” You murmur against her lips.

“Shut up,” Rosie breaks the kiss, embarrassed as she buries her face into your neck. “Can’t help it,” She sucks lightly, marking your skin.

“What about sleep?” You moan, rocking her body along your hardening cock.

“Later,” Rosie mumbles, “I’m engaged. Let me celebrate, daddy.”

You groan at the new nickname, earning a giggle.

“Who knew you had a daddy kink,” Rosie teases, kissing you on the lips again. “I probably have a praise kink.”

“Be a good girl for me then,” You say, easily slipping into character.

“It’s not hard to be,” Rosie trails her lips along your jaw, peppering kisses as she slyly slides her hand in between your bodies. “Especially with a cock like this,” She sighs as she slowly strokes your stiffness.

“I love you,” You tilt your head back as she moves herself lower, eager for whatever she has in store.

“I know, I love you too, my fiancé.”

-- -- --

#blackpink smut #blackpink rose #blackpink park chaeyoung #rosie smut #park chaeyoung smut #park chaeyoung

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kooktrash · 7 months

Text

LIMERENCE | jeon jungkook

summary: a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back

warnings: angst. smut. [jk and oc in videos: 18-20 | jk and oc now: 26] retired emos. exes to lovers. unprotected intercourse [listen it had been six years they weren’t waiting 😭] jk has a bellybutton piercing and he smokes. jk owns a camera shop. supportive besties Jimin and Tae and Yoongi. Y2K styled camcorders. a small argument on one of the tapes

LIMERENCE MASTERLIST

➢ genre/au: exes to lovers, smut, Y2K videotape style [ ex boyfriend!jk x ex girlfriend!y/n [she/her. female anatomy ]

➢ 18.4k words

song inspo: risk — deftones, 505 — arctic monkeys, afraid — xavier omar, who [feat. BTS] — lauv

The end of a chapter in your life always came when you least expected it. You’ll wake up one day and it’ll hit you that you don’t talk to the same people. You don’t do the same things or act the same way and when you look back at before, it will feel so far from the person you are now.

Standing before your half empty apartment began to bring this growing feeling of sadness inside you. It made you feel stupid but you just couldn’t help it, this was the end of a huge time in your life where you felt like you really began to develop into who you are. After seven years living here, you’re finally moving on and everything that happened here would be left behind. All the laughter, the crying, the break ups that left you balling your eyes out on the kitchen floor. You would soon move into a clean slate and for some reason that was hitting you hard.

It probably didn’t help that your dear friend managed to find a box of things— you haven’t thought about in quite literally years—hidden away in an old storage space on the ceiling. The sides of the cardboard box were in ruins with wet patches and bent corners. There was no writing on the sides but on the top a big line of red duct tape with the words ‘JJK’ and a few small scissors stab marks next to it. Jimin looked up at you with a raised brow, “Are you keeping this one?”

Your expression seemed to flatten as you looked down at it, unsure what to say and he sighed, “Come on Y/n, it’s late, I want to get as much of this out as we can. Are you keeping this one?”

“Um,” You looked back down at it, nodding your head, “Yes.”

Since the day you found that box and told Jimin you were keeping it, all it’s done is collect dust in the corner of your new living room, out of place and constantly on your mind. Your friends were a big help in the move, especially Jimin who had hauled that huge cardboard box up three flights of stairs to your new place without question to what was in it. It wasn’t until he got tired of seeing it sit in the corner for an entire week after everything had been unpacked that he really began to get curious about it.

“So what’s in that thing?” Jimin asked that Friday night you lounged around your apartment, proud to have finally gotten everything out. Tonight was the first night your mutual friend would be over and it was like a housewarming party with the only two people who can stand being around you.

“What’s in what?” You asked, catching a glance at your friend, Somin, who’s knowing eyes bore into yours—already knowing what he was talking about. The thing is, Somin was very aware of what was in that box and she’s been biting her tongue all night from asking why you still had it.

“The box, it’s just been sitting there,” Jimin said pointing to it, “It’s kinda ruining this whole vibe you’ve got going on here with all the black decor and house plants.”

“Just some old stuff,” you shrugged it off, looking back down at the playing cards in your hands, “I haven’t found a place to put it.”

Somin raised a brow at you but you ignored her this time to continue your game of cards and drink your wine. Jimin looked at her, “Do you know what’s in it?”

You sighed, “Jimin, I told you it’s just some old stuff.”

“Yes, Y/n, but old stuff can be a lot of things and that box was heavy so I’m curious,” Jimin said exaggeratedly, “Can’t a man be curious these days?”

“It’s no—“

“It’s a bunch of old home videos,” Somin said as she poured herself more wine casually like she hadn’t just exposed what was inside your secret box. Jimin’s jaw dropped, “Wait, Y/n, you used to do porn?”

“What!?” You nearly choked, “No—well, like on—no! Those aren’t that type of home video, they’re just… y'know old tapes.”

“Like from when you were a kid?” Jimin asked with a scoff, “Let’s watch them.”

“I’m not a kid,” You said shaking your head no, “And no, let’s not watch them.”

“I agree with Jimin,” Somin cut in after watching you begin to panic a bit, “You kept them for a reason, let’s see why. Jimin’s never seen them.”

You laughed nervously, “Come on, it’s just silly stuff, I just kept them for the memory, that’s all.”

“We don’t doubt it,” Jimin said with a smirk, “But come on, let me see one—just one.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine!”

The three of you huddled around it with a pair of keys using the jagged end to cut into the old tape and the box nearly fell apart just like that. When Jimin pulled the tabs open, the three of you seemed to lean in closer and closer with anticipation for the reveal until finally, a silence fell over you.

Jimin didn’t hesitate from reaching into it, scabbing row after row of old VCR tapes with white labels on the sides with similar titles in a numerical order.

‘JJK 1’

‘JJK 2’

‘JJK 3’

‘JJK 4’

There were 24 tapes in the box and he counted every single one meaning these spanned two years with one tape filmed per month. The same initials that had been on top of the box had been written on the tapes and he couldn’t help himself from picking up the first one. “Let’s watch it.”

“No! No,” you said, taking it out of his hands, “You wanted to see what was inside and you saw, be happy with what you get, I don’t have anything to play these on anyway.”

“I do!” Somin piped in, “I’ve got my old tape player back home, say the words and I’ll go get it.”

“Not neces—“

“Do it.”

What you wanted at the moment seemed to be outnumbered by your friend’s curiosity and your other friend’s need to satiate it. You were left alone with Jimin for twenty minutes as Somin left to get it and he rummaged through them trying to ask you what they were, only for you to evade each question out of stubbornness. Now she’s back and you’re watching them set everything up on your flatscreen while you sat back on your couch chugging back your glass of wine nervously.

Jimin smiled mischievously as he held up a tape, building anticipation before placing it into the player and letting it start.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 1 : THE SHOP ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

There was a pungent chemical smell surrounding the register you currently sat on that had the customers in line scrunching their noses in disgust but that didn’t seem to stop either one of you from what you were doing. He worked with one hand as best as he could while you worked on the other applying a cold layer of polish onto his fingers.

A small black nail polish was set down on the counter next to a silver cam recorder that had been angled at the two of you this whole time, capturing on video the way you painted your coworker’s nails. Jungkook bid them farewell before turning his attention back on you, “Hurry up, we’re starting to get busy again.”

“Shh,” you pointed a manicured finger up, “You can’t rush perfection.”

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you,” Jungkook said as you brought his hand closer to your lips trying to dry his nails with your warm breath. The video seemed to have a perfect view of the way his eyes glossed over with affection when he looked at you and you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh my god, every girl is going to want to sleep with you,” you eyed his nails proudly, “You look hot.”

“I’ve always been hot,” Jungkook said looking down at his black nails that complimented his black leather and beaded bracelets that lined his wrists, “Okay but how cool do these make me look? Like, would you sleep with me?”

He tilted his head toward you in curiosity and for a moment you just looked at him in thought before finally shrugging, “Yeah, I’d do it.”

“Do what?” Jungkook asked, shaking his black hair out of his face. With the way the camera was aimed, the two of you looked zoomed in but it still managed to capture the way your eyes stayed on each other wordlessly, the tension felt through the screen.

‘Can someone help get a shirt down?’

He watched you hop off the graffiti-covered counter and grabbed the long hook that helped get things down and left with her—not before responding with a simple, “You.”

Once your answer registered in his head, he wasted a single second to look at his camera, wondering if it had caught this small flirty moment the two of you had while you painted his nails and the thought alone made him smirk, biting against his lip ring too. He didn’t think he would get his nails painted at work today but when he saw you doing your own, you convinced him and he spent the last ten minutes messing around with you, flirting here and there.

The shift had been boring for the most part and all the songs that played he'd already heard a million times over. This is his fifth time singing along to Falling Away From Me by Korn. Do you think he wants Korn stuck in his head all day?

His beanie clad head bobbed to the rifts in the song, quietly lip synching as he went back to doodling on an old receipt paper. Some of the ink from the pen he used was smudging and the black hearts he drew were getting ruined but he didn’t care. He’ll either throw it away or stick it on your back if he wants to.

“Beating me down! Beating me, beating me down, down, into the ground,” a voice sang loudly in his ear making him jump in fear.

“Don’t moan in my fucking ear, bro,” Jungkook said holding a hand to his ear, the softness of his beanie tickling his fingers. Taehyung threw himself against the counter with his back pressed against it looking at his friend, “You know you liked it.”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook said as he blew air on his nails again, drawing Taehyung’s attention to them. He stuck a hand out as if waiting and Jungkook put his hand over it to show him his nails.

Taehyung seemed impressed as he asked, “Who did them?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n!” Taehyung shouted abruptly and Jungkook flinched away with annoyance, ready to tell him you were helping a customer when you popped around the corner with a t-shirt and hanger in your hands and the customer behind you.

“What?” Your brows arched in confusion as you looked at your coworker who has spent the last twenty minutes in the stockroom between Nirvana posters and new Metallica tees hiding so he could play his Nintendo GameBoy. Jungkook was careful not to fuck up his black nails and took the shirt from you so he could check the customer out.

Taehyung pointed to Jungkook’s nails,“Can you do mine next?”

A scoff left your lips, joining him next to the counter standing close to ask, “Are you going to pay me?”

His jaw dropped as he turned back to Jungkook, “What the fuck? Did he?”

“Thank you, have a good night,” Jungkook mumbled to the customer as she left with a new t-shirt before turning to the other two, “I’m buying Y/n lunch tomorrow.”

“I’ll buy you lunch the day after.”

“You can’t. That’s not original.” You said to him with a teasing smirk. The two of you were standing close to each other as you talked, Taehyung’s voice dropped when he spoke to you, “You know what, just because the two of you got a little crush on each other doesn’t mean you’ve gotta favor him.”

Jungkook looked down at the drawing he made, trying his best to act like he hadn’t heard what Taehyung said, but it didn’t stop the growing blush to his cheeks. It’s true, maybe he does have a thing for you but it’s still too early to tell, y’know? He’s not sure how to explain it but you seem to get him. The two of you like the same kind of music and know the same sort of things. You listen to him talk and when he’s quiet, you don’t question it. You make him feel comfortable and when you flirt with him he wonders if you feel the same.

Honestly, that’s all he’s wanted these days, his attraction toward you to be reciprocated anyway it could be. He thinks about you constantly, probably more than what’s healthy but he can’t help it.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the shuffling movement of Jungkook pulling himself up on the counter, “Just say you’re jealous and feel left out.”

“Bitch?!” Taehyung scoffed, “I wouldn’t feel this way if you treated us fairly, instead you give him special treatment.”

“You realize you’re arguing with me over getting your nails painted?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly annoyed and once Jungkook saw that he was fully pulling you his way. He threw an arm around your neck, hugging you from behind as he sat on the counter and rested his head on yours, “Ignore him, he’s in a mood because he just got dumped.”

“Fuck you, I broke up with her!” Taehyung nearly yelled, staring at the two of you with disgust as Jungkook fixed the beanie on your head that had slipped a little too low over your eyes.

Just as you were getting ready to respond to him, the door of the stockroom opened and your boss was coming out with a blank expression, “Can you guys do your jobs instead of fuck around?”

“Yoongi, I’m being bullied,” Taehyung argued, “Fire them already.”

“I’ll fire you too,” Yoongi teased before looking at Jungkook, “Get off my counter.”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video came to an end as your old boss stood in front of the camera, blocking out the footage that ended with Jungkook whispering something into your ear.

“Who’s that guy? An ex boyfriend?” Jimin asked as the video came to an end. Somin released a soft laugh as she looked at your blank expression, unsure what to say. Before you could speak up, she was doing it for you, “That's the ex boyfriend. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Don’t immortalize him,” you said with a slight roll of your eyes as you watched Jimin rummage through the box in search of another video to play. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as a strange ounce of nerves began to set in, watching him unlock a deep rooted memory you had told yourself you had forgotten. Somin sent you a knowing look as she matched the roll of your eyes with her own, “How else should I refer to him as? The guy who filmed a video each month that you two were together?”

“Damn,” Jimin laughed, slumping back in a chair as he looked at you, “So how come I’ve never heard of this videographer.”

“Because Y/n’s asham—“

“Alright! No more wine for you,” you leapt forward to snatch the glass out of your friend’s hands watching her giggle drunkenly, “You’re just saying things now.”

“Come on Y/n, I’m curious,” Jimin said tugging on your sleeve, “If you won’t let her tell me… you gotta do it. Don’t act like you don’t still think about it, why else would you have all these tapes still?”

“Because it’s not everyday someone makes 26 movies for you—and not all of them are as happy as this one,” you confessed as you looked down at ‘JJK 1’ it had been a video log of when the two of you really began to show some attraction toward each other just before he asked you out. Looking back at the video all you could think was how back then you were both young, you could see it on your faces and the sparkles in your eyes. Not all of the videos in that box would be like this one.

“Alright,” Jimin sighed, “Well then just tell me who Jeon Jungkook is.”

Sounds of a rock song’s electric guitar blurred out the noises from inside the dark shop. The store was covered in black and dark blue with its black walls and blue hues of light that shined down over dozens of cameras and melancholic portraits. It had an obviously cold aura and for some reason that had a tendency to always bring him comfort.

He felt warmth in the coolness of his small shop and oftentimes it was difficult to leave it behind, even when the night sky had appeared and the ‘closed’ sign had been flipped. The only thing that kept him from spending yet another night in the store was a set of plans that had been made days prior by someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer. When it came time to leave, he locked up shop and left on his motorcycle.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” his dear friend raised a glass of whiskey to him as he sat alone at the bar, “I was wondering if you were gonna come or not.”

“I didn’t realize I had an option,” he joked bitterly, making his friend send him a glare that was quickly wiped away when something came to mind. “So I met this chick, she’s got this friend wh—“

“No.”

“Jungkook,” his friend said, watching his friend stir the ice in his scotch, “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

Jungkook released a scoff as he looked at him, “You were going to say that this friend wants to meet me and that I should go and get drinks with her or something.”

He sat there quietly, speechless by how spot on his best friend was, “Alright, maybe you did know what I was going to say but just hear me out… she’s hot. Uh, um, she’s your type—honestly, I’m your best friend so trust me.”

“No, Taehyung, you always say the same thing and it's always a huge waste of time,” Jungkook shook his head adamantly, “I don’t get why you’re always trying to set me up with someone whenever you get into a relationship. We’ve been friends for eight years and you’re still this clingy?”

“Okay first of all, fuck you, I’m not clingy,” Taehyung told him with a scoff, “Second, I’m trying to do you a favor considering you can’t keep a relationship to save your life.”

That made Jungkook roll his eyes as he looked anywhere but at his friend. The two sat at the counter of some quiet lounge bar where they had agreed to meet at. He raised his glass to his lips for a drink as he said, “Some people aren’t meant to be in relationship—“

“No, you wanna know what your problem is?” Taehyung cut him off, “It’s that you’re too damn picky. Hate to say it friend, but nobody is ever going to be her.”

His expression hardened as he forced his glare on the silver rings he wore, listening to the way they clinked against the polished bartop. He didn’t give Taehyung a response right away, too busy trying not to roll his eyes again but it was no use, his tongue poked against his cheek and his friend knew he got a reaction. Jungkook tilted his head in thought, “Why do you still bring Y/n up?”

“Because she was your longest relationship,” Taehyung said with a shrug. He was pushing his friend for a response and he felt a little bad but sometimes he just needs to get his friend to talk. Jungkook has always been on the quieter side, even years back. All he did was listen to music and videographed things he liked. He was a bit intimidating—still is—but it was only because he was so quiet. Sure, he knew how to joke around but Taehyung’s known him long enough to feel the difference in his friend lately. He’s become more of a shut-in, busy with the store and not focused on anything else.

“Yeah, six years ago,” Jungkook emphasized with a scoff, “And she broke up with me, remember?”

“I mean… yeah but… don’t you ever think about it?” Taehyung asked suddenly, “I still think about my first love.”

“Y/n was not my first love,” Jungkook’s brows furrowed, remembering the two girlfriends before he ever met you. Taehyung gave him a look, “Not your first girlfriend but definitely your first love. What do you think Y/n’s up to?”

He hadn’t noticed how his leg began to bounce anxiously as he took a sigh, “How would I know? You’re the one who still talks to her.”

“Not true,” Taehyung shook his head no, “We haven’t talked in over three years.”

“Hm,” Jungkook sounded unimpressed as he chugged back the rest of his drink, motioning the bartender over to ask for another round. He wasn’t in the mood to keep talking about this and it caught him off guard.

He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about you but he’s got no doubt in his mind it was because of Taehyung back then too. This is the problem with being best friends with the guy who was with you through all the ups and downs and hasn’t seen you put your all into a relationship since. The only thing Jungkook doesn’t get is why Taehyung is stuck on the idea that he never got over you.

You both were young back then. The end of your adolescence started with the beginning of adulthood and the two of you had just so happened to spend the first two years together like that. You dated when you were 18 and broke up when you were 20, it was so long ago and now it’s just a last memory to him. He hasn’t seen you in six years and the only time he ever wastes time thinking about you is when you’re brought up. He’s managed to push you so far back in his head that he’s only reminded of you when someone else mentions you and every time it happens, it hurts a little more.

Taehyung has this problem with revisiting the past anytime he’s drunk and since he met him at the same time that he met Y/n… it’s no surprise that some of those early memories had you in them. He never failed to remind Jungkook that he had felt like a child with divorced parents having to choose a side when you two broke up. Time and time again Jungkook reminds him that he could’ve gone off and been best friends with you if that’s what he really wanted but then it would end in an argument over the friendship.

Jungkook reached into the pocket of his black jeans for his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Taehyung, “So tell me about this friend.”

“She’s blonde—natural or not, I’m not sure—but she’s attractive and nice. She seems a bit extroverted, kinda bubbly so I don’t know how you’ll feel about that but I’m telling you… you’ll like her,” Taehyung said, happy to drop the current topic to go back to the original point in conversation.

He tried to listen to his friend’s description of this woman he wanted Jungkook to meet but he couldn’t. It was really all Taehyung’s fault for making him think about you and all his past relationships. He’ll admit, he’s been in quite a few and none have lasted more than a few months aside from the one with you. It was normal for yours to be the one that left the biggest impact on him but he wouldn’t say that’s why he stays away from relationships.

There might be a time here and there where Jungkook does indulge in carnal desires and sleeps with someone but they’re never anything more than that.

He’s got too much shit going on to waste time dating someone.

After a long night of hearing his friend go on and on about a woman he thinks is good for him, he returned to his loft apartment tired and alone. Like his shop, his apartment had the same cool tone to it. The walls were black and some brick, blue lights were tucked away in corners angling up toward photographic portraits he’s done in the last few years and his black 1968 Gibson Custom Les Paul Electric guitar hanging proudly in his living room. His Doberman leapt happily at the sight of his owner and he followed after Jungkook as he stepped onto his couch taking the guitar off its hooks to examine it.

To be honest, he rarely plays the guitar nowadays and it’s not because he forgot how to play or because he lost his love for it but it’s not the same anymore. Now it just sits as a reminder of who he was with when he got it and just how he got it. As if this guitar wasn’t a constant reminder of you, his dear friend felt the need to bring you up too.

It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault things happened the way they did and it’s not his fault that it fell apart for him too but… sometimes he wonders if things would have been different if Taehyung didn’t push him to date you all those years back.

For days on end all you could do was think about that stupid box. It didn’t help that you had no room for it so it remained in your living room taunting you, pressing you to play just one more video. It’s strange how you hadn’t thought about this box or Jungkook in a long time and now he’s randomly showing back up in your life without even knowing it. Honestly, it was embarrassing.

You’ve randomly begun to think about a guy you dumped when you were 20 years old and for some reason that’s starting to get to you. It was making you anxious like all of a sudden you’ve realized how much time has passed. If it wasn’t for moving out of your old apartment, you wouldn’t have even thought about this but not that you’re looking back… this was supposed to be that ending.

You were supposed to leave it all behind when you moved and instead you brought it with you to your new beginning.

“Y/n.” The man across from you called your name as you stared off in the distance. He released a small sigh, “Come on kid, you wanted to get lunch, what’s up?”

“I’m not a kid,” you told Yoongi with a glare in your eyes, “And maybe I just wanted to catch up with an old friend of mine.”

Yoongi lifted an unamused brow, “Are you calling me old or our friendship old?”

“A little bit of both,” you said with a teasing smile, taking a sip from your drink as the two of you waited for your food, “But anyway, no, I haven’t seen you in like a month and I kinda missed you.”

“Right…” Yoongi looked away, “So what have you been up to? How’s the new apartment?”

You released a sigh as Yoongi began to ask you things and tried sorting your answers in your head, “I’ve been too busy moving but the apartment is nice, a little less space than I originally thought but nothing I can’t manage.”

“And how’s the magazine?” Yoongi asked, taking a short pause to thank the server who brought your plates out, “Did you get that promotion?”

“Yes!” Your eyes widened and a smile came to your face, “I did, we’re still working on transfers but you’re looking at the new Editorial Assistant.”

“Soon to be new Editor,” Yoongi said proudly, “I can’t believe I’ve seen you grow from some emo kid who used to work for me to an adult on their way to their dream job.”

“I know,” you released a sigh at the thought of how far you’ve come. When you graduated high school you worked at a streetwear shop and you stayed there part time when you started college. It’s gotta be the best place you’ve ever worked at and the environment was always laid back. Yoongi was the one to push you and ask what you wanted to be and when you told him your plan to work at a magazine he was always right there beside you. Now at 26, you’re just a step away from Editor. It’s crazy how much can change in six years and that alone made you ask, “I know this is random but do you still talk to old employees?”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed, “I talk to you.”

“I mean beside me,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you poured yourself more water in your glass. You wanted to say this was all just out of curiosity considering he’s the one who brought up the time you worked for him but in reality… you planned on asking him this when he agreed to lunch.

“Mm, not really. I talked to Taehyung for a while after he quit but it didn’t last long,” Yoongi said as casually as ever and he looked at you with curious eyes. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and you were no longer eating, just using your silverware to play with your food and he knew you well enough to know his answer didn’t satiate your curiosity. He purposely left out any mention of him but maybe that’s what you were looking for? “I haven’t talked to Jungkook since he moved—but last I heard he came back a couple years ago and opened up a store.”

“Store?” You asked, watching your friend’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah, he, y’know he opened a camera store, a couple second hand guitars too,” Yoongi said, “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head no, “When?”

“I don’t know, when he came back? Jin told me he had seen him around but I never talked to him. We didn’t keep in touch when he went back to Busan so I figured it would be weird to want to know what he’s up to now, right?” Yoongi said, unaware of the way you had tuned him out, lost in thought.

Talking about Jungkook to Yoongi felt strange because he knew the two of you in a different way than Somin did. Somin knew Jungkook because of you but you and him worked for Yoongi for two years. It’s like with Taehyung, he met you the same time he met Jungkook but the two grew closer even when you fell out. Your breakup with Jungkook was a bit of a tricky subject and you’ll take the blame for it. Back then you might’ve tried and argued that it was a mutual agreement but now that you’re older you’ll admit you were in the wrong, or maybe the things you said were wrong.

“Y/n,” Yoongi called your name, snapping your out of your state of daydream and caught your attention, “Have you really not spoken to him since the breakup? I don't remember it being that bad.”

You shrugged, “Honestly I can’t remember, a lot happened that I didn’t say and I’m sure he didn’t either so it makes sense.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, “I can tell something is on your mind, why’d you ask who I kept in touch with? Have you been trying to contact Jungkook?”

“No,” you nearly choked on your drink, “No, I just, um, I was just curious.”

Yoongi didn’t press you for more, he could see it on your face that there was more you weren’t telling him but he didn’t want to force you to come out with it. You ended your little lunch date with plans to meet up again and went back to your respective jobs.

It wasn’t until nighttime that you found yourself thinking back to that stupid fucking box that just grabbed your attention everytime you were home. If Jimin had never wanted to play the first tape then maybe you wouldn’t have been so stuck on them but you just can’t help it anymore. They’re all you’ve been able to think about which has led you to think about Jungkook. You have not questioned him or his whereabouts in so long and this sudden interest in how he’s doing is starting to get to you.

When you got home you tried distracting yourself from them. You still had to figure out where to put them if you even want to keep them and although you think you shouldn’t… you can’t just throw them away either. It’s a memory, a cute little memory if you only watch the first few videos and you’ve moved on so they shouldn’t bother you anymore—they don’t bother you anymore. You spent part of your night finishing up a project from work, drinking a glass of wine and listening to Bloodhail by Have a Nice Life, only looking at the box every now and then.

You always preferred working in your living room because it helped you resist the urge to lay in bed but right now you can’t focus on your project and you can’t take it anymore. You took a tape out of the box and put it into Somin’s tape player, turned on the tv and the volume up just a bit as the video began to play.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 2 : THE SKATEPARK┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The sky was dark and you doubted anything could be seen on the camera set up beside you but neither of you seemed to care. The camera had been rolling since the store was open and you had been filming with him since but you never expected Jungkook would ask you out. Could you call this a date?

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was calm and collected over the loud rock music that played in the skate park, “I’ll pull, all you have to do is try and balance.”

“I am trying,” you took a deep breath staring down at the skateboard underneath your worn out converse, “Just give me a second, alright?”

Jungkook just smiled, he took a cautious step back when you released his hands and he picked up his camera trying to make sure you were in view. Things have begun to change between you two drastically. Sure, you always did a back and forth flirting at work but lately it feels a bit more than that. You’ve been messaging every night talking about random things, sometimes talking about more meaningful things. Whenever he was near you his touch always seemed to linger and now he’s asked you out tonight—nothing serious… just feeling it out.

“Okay, okay, wait I think I got it,” you waved a hand excitedly as you called him back over. He didn’t hesitate to take your hand in his free one and aimed the camera down at your feet. He began to pull you forward, feeling your fingers lock with his when you nearly lost balance.

Jungkook was walking backwards as he helped you skate across the cement, not watching where he was going until he bumped into a ramp nearly yanking you off the board. The camera fumbled in his hand as he tried to save you instead and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady. You clung to his arm, heart racing from the near fall and yet you couldn’t help but laugh as you fumbled to keep the camera safe. Since you met him you realize he had a strong tie with his camcorder and got used to his need to always be recording, you found it cute so you didn’t want something to happen to it.

He was hesitant to let you go even when you stood up comfortably, tucking your hair behind your pierced ears and biting your lip, “I need a break.”

Jungkook didn’t question it as he followed you to sit down on a grassy hill just outside the cement confines of the skatepark. He reached into his black Jansport backpack and took out a bottled water to hand to you. You smiled, taking it with a thank you and asked, “So do you come here every night you close?”

“Sometimes,” Jungkook shrugged, watching you tip your head back to drink from his water bottle, a small droplet slipping down your chin that had him reaching out a thumb to wipe, “Helps clear my head.”

“That’s nice,” you said softly thanking him, cheeks flush red, handing him back the water and watching him take a drink next, “Is that why you’re always recording too?”

Jungkook looked down at his silver camcorder that sat in the middle on the grass, “I don’t know, I find it relaxing but at the same time… it makes me anxious? I want to capture everything I experience on video because I’m scared that one day I’m not going to remember any of this. Sometimes I wonder if I’m missing out on the moment itself but then I think about right now an—no, nevermind.”

Your brows furrowed as he stared down at the people skating, eyes narrowing as he listened to the next song someone played. It was late and that definitely wasn’t a skating song but it was one of his favorites and he had to say it, “I like this song.”

Bloodhail played somewhere off in the distance and he softly hummed to the beat but you were too focused on what he never finished saying instead, “What were you going to say?”

Jungkook played with his lip ring, the beating red light from his camera recording in his peripheral as he shrugged, “It’s nothing.” There was a small pile of loose grass blades he’s pulled from the ground next to him.

He looked at you to see what you had to say but instead you just stayed silent, slightly drawn back from him and he didn’t want that. It’s not like what he was going to say was bad but… the two of you have only ever flirted. What if he said something that pushed you away? But what if he chose not to ever speak up and you got tired of waiting?

The song really was one of his favorites but he’ll admit he used that as a distraction to change the subject but he couldn’t just not answer now.

“I think about what would happen if I didn’t have my camera when I’m with you,” Jungkook confessed, laying on his bed to look up at the stars, “Would I remember everything you said? What jokes I said that made you laugh? Or even the way you looked at me? I wouldn’t want to forget these things.”

All that was heard for a good long moment was the sound of the music and muffled noises from people still around. He felt his stomach tighten, shaking his head in the grass, “Shit, sorry, that probably sounded weird.”

Your eyes met and for a second he forgot where the two of you were or that his camera was still recording at a bad angle, “What will you do when you’re done filming us?”

“Give the tapes to you, maybe keep a couple,” Jungkook answered truthfully, “They’re as much yours as they are mine.”

“But you’re the one always recording,” you told him but he just shrugged.

“Because I like it and I like you and I just want to capture every moment we have,” his words sounded more confident now as he sat up not wanting to beat around the bus anymore, “So, Y/n, will you go out with me?”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

A chill ran down your spine as the song you currently listened to matched the one that had played in a video that was seven or eight years old. As much as you’ve told yourself you’ve changed your music taste has stayed the same and the strange serenity you felt in the beginning with Jungkook never changed either.

Why were you missing him?

It was another late night at the studio, Jungkook spent more time there than at his apartment lately and tonight was no different. Although he did have plans with Taehyung and that blonde he had been telling him about, he’s not sure if he’s interested in actually going. He met her a couple nights ago and Taehyung was right, she’s great, honestly, but something didn’t click right away.

If he met up with Taehyung for this ‘double date’ that might give her the wrong idea and he doesn’t want to hurt her. If he could have her as a friend that would be best. He’s just not ready to give himself to someone when his last break up ended because of something so stupid that he just couldn’t let go.

Jungkook stood outside under a poorly lit street lamp just outside his studio as he smoked a cigarette, taking a small break from photo developing. His studio was located on a quiet street uphill, it had a simple cinderblock look and it wasn’t big but it was somewhat popular. People liked to see his photographs and he would do photoshoots, sell cameras, fix them, he did pretty much anything you could do with a camera. Business might be slow at times but it was peaceful and he made a living wage off doing something that he loved, that’s all he had ever wanted. He was content with where he is now at only 26 and his own business. He didn’t mind being single nor did he care to change that… so he decided he was going to miss out on tonight.

Once he finished his short smoking break, he put the bud out on the floor with his shoe and picked it up to dump in the trash. Just as Jungkook turned back to the door of his studio, he seemed to go still.

For a second he debated rubbing his fists into his eyes in hopes of washing away this mirage but all he managed to do was blink, speechless and frozen. You weren’t better off despite being the reason he was stuck like that and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

It was very obviously Jungkook, there was no mistaking it but it also looked like someone completely different in a sense. The Jungkook you dated always dressed in band tees too small for him, spiked chokers, checkered belts, the full emo scene of the time minus the side swept hair—he preferred the longish curls instead. He had a lip piercing and a belly button piercing but that was it. Now you’re looking at him and you’re seeing a man after six years realizing just how much time had passed. He had a tattoo sleeve and small gages, a lip piercing and he wore overly baggy black clothes. His hair was short and straight but it looked good on him and you can’t believe you’re admitting that to yourself right now.

“Is this JeonStudio?” You asked as calmly as you could but your voice still betrayed you at the end. You avoided his gaze, choosing instead to eye the small building somewhat proudly and awkward too. Coming here was on a whim, you had been out with friends when you got curious and searched him up. Yoongi had told you he owned a shop so it wasn’t hard to find and honestly… you didn’t expect to go in and actually see him. Imagine your surprise when he caught you standing outside slightly tipsy? “I don’t suppose you’re open at this hour.”

Jungkook just looked at you, heart racing and half tempted to smoke another cigarette due to growing anxiety but you seemed so casual and he didn’t want to overreact. It’s been too long anyway, he’s dumbfounded. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before walking to the door, not bothering to look back at you as he held it open for you to go in.

Immediately you winced at the loudness of the rock song that played, ears nearly sore from the volume as you stepped into the dark studio. Korn’s ‘Coming Undone’ played loudly as it reared its end and Jungkook left you alone for a moment to lower it back down, skipping the song in favor of listening to something by Alice In Chains. You’ll like to correct yourself; Jungkook might look slightly different because he’s older—but he still seems like the exact guy you left six years ago.

“So what can I do for you?” Jungkook’s voice sounded deeper, more manly and when he stood behind his glass counter of cameras with his hands leaning against it, silver rings on his tattooed fingers and a slight smell of nicotine, you were brought back to before. He let his gaze travel over you in half surprise and half amazement.

Just seeing you after having you stuck in his head for a couple weeks now was a surprise, but to see how you’ve changed? He was amazed. It’s not that you were a completely different person but… wow you’ve grown. You no longer wore your ripped fishnets or beaten Converse and Dr. Martens. Your hair wasn’t in knots and your makeup wasn’t smudged or messy like you did it in the back of a bus on your way to work.

You looked… you looked good, like a matured version of yourself who wasn’t shy to show small hints at what you used to be like.

“I just…” you trailed off looking around the room, “I heard you had your own shop an—“

“And?” Jungkook asked with a firm expression making you look back at him, “I’ve had it for a couple years now, why the sudden interest, Y/n?”

He acted cold and it was a bit of a surprise and you scolded yourself for thinking that. It’s not like you expected him to be all smiles seeing you again. God, why did you come? It felt like one second you’re leaving your friend’s movie night to go home and next you’re standing outside of his studio as he smokes.

Maybe you’ll just leave before you do anything embarrassing.

Jungkook watched you with a blank expression but he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing as he watched you look around. He stood behind the glass case of cameras where the register was at and waited for you to say something.

The changes were subtle but there was no way he could miss them. The biggest was of course your fashion style now, it was different yet he could still pick up hints of how you used to dress. You still preferred black shoes and silver jewelry. Your hair was styled differently now but it still suited you perfectly, you still had your nose pierced and your nails painted.

Something that didn’t change was that familiar sparkle in your eyes when you were curious and right now he could see it as you did a 360 of his studio. He didn’t notice the way his finger began to tap anxiously against the glass waiting to see what you would say about it. He wasn’t looking to impress you or anything but…

“All of these are yours?” You asked as you stepped closer to a portrait on the wall with blue and black hues. Your gaze never shifted away from the portrait so he was forced to give you a verbal response, “Most, some are Taehyung’s.”

At the mention of your old friend you seemed to freeze up a little, “How is he?”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back a scoff as he crossed his arms over his chest, “He’s great, thanks for asking, don’t you want to ask how I am?”

Once again his slight attitude caught you off guard but you weren’t going to let it bring you down, you’ve come this far in your reconciliation. Your eyes narrowed as they met his glare and you rebutted, “I was getting there, jeez.”

This time around it was his turn to be surprised when you rolled your eyes and he hated that the corner of his lips threatened to turn upward in amusement. You finally quit looking at everything but him and turned in his direction like you were finally going to say something only for you to look up in search of the speakers that played a song you remembered he liked. Pink Maggit by Deftones started off slow and quietly but slowly raised volume that Jungkook had to lower it down a little more. He pretended not to notice his ringing phone that buzzed on the counter with Taehyung’s name displayed—probably wondering where he was.

“I don’t know if this holds meaning but I love this place,” you said and a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding slipped out.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said with a huff.

“Seriously Jungkook,” you stood in front of the counter now, “It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“It is,” he agreed, studying you and falling silent.

The longer he stayed thinking the harder it became to hold himself back and this time, more gentle and calm, he asked, “Y/n, why are you here?”

His phone lit up once more and he flipped it to face down and waited for you to respond. You were quiet for a moment as you tried gathering your thoughts and in the end you found yourself sitting alone in his studio with him confessing about the tapes.

There was a slight tension in the air that seemed to blur out the background noise of the restaurant’s chaos. He felt it but he pretended like he didn’t as he looked at his menu, not sure what to order or if he was even hungry.

“Yuna thinks you’re not interested,” was one of the first things Taehyung said to him as the two met up for dinner one night. Jungkook had already expected his friend to have something to say about the other night when he ditched their plans because something unexpected happened but… but he hadn’t processed what Taehyung had said until it was too late.

“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly, unaware of the glare Taehyung sent him that had him snapping back into realization, “Oh… Oh! Yuna? Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I mean it’s whatever to me but the two of you were really hitting it off,” Taehyung said with a shrug that had Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Come on, we’ve met once and I was drunk,” Jungkook said, “She’s cute but… I don’t know.”

He ignored the way Taehyung’s eyes seemed to narrow suspiciously, “You don’t know? You seemed to be pretty good talking to her over drinks and now you don’t know? What made you ditch out on me anyway?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Something came up—“

“No!” Taehyung groaned, “Don’t give me that bullshit. What was it?”

There was a slight pause in the conversation as the server came to take their orders but Taehyung just ushered them away to come back later. Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, seeming exhausted before saying, “Nothing, honestly, just…”

“Just?”

“Y/n came to the studio.”

Silence filled the space between the two again as Taehyung stared at him dumbfounded. Jungkook couldn’t even think of anything to respond with either so they just sat there feeling the tension grow thicker by the second. After a while, Taehyung released a nervous chuckle and sighed, “Alright, for a second I thought you were being serious. Come up with a better excuse ne—“

“I’m being serious,” Jungkook said and Taehyung was finally able to see the small difference in his friend. His hair was a bit messier and he looked tired but he didn’t look bad he just looked different. “I was working late and you were blowing up my phone to get me to meet up with you guys but there I am smoking a stupid cigarette and she’s standing there like nothing ever happened asking if it’s open!”

“Shit,” Taehyung listened, “So what happened? That’s it? Did you talk? What did you talk about?”

“She asked about you,” Jungkook said with a roll of his eyes, “Then worried about me later but, she still had the tapes.”

“What tapes?”

“The tapes,” Jungkook didn’t care to clarify because his friend should know exactly what he is talking about. It took Taehyung a moment but realization dawned on him and he gasped, “All of the movies you made with her?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said, “I-I had forgotten all about them, honestly but then she comes along telling me she was moving and a friend of hers found them and they made her curious a—fuck, it’s so weird seeing her again.”

“Did Y/n change?” Taehyung asked, watching Jungkook nod his head. Jungkook really did look exhausted like he’s been thinking about this nonstop.

“So much but like… at the same time, it’s still Y/n,” Jungkook said with a small hint of a smile, “She’s still got the same look in her eye and her smile is still the same. I don’t know, we talked about the tapes but that’s really it an—“

“So go talk to her, even if it’s just to catch up,” Taehyung tried saying, half expecting his friend to reject the idea the way he’s rejected anything that had to do with you so to hear that he ditched him because you showed up out of the blue… he wants to know what this means.

In truth, Taehyung cared a lot about you both despite not being friends with you anymore. The three of you met at an impressionable age in your young adult years so it’s hard for him to act like he didn’t care about you two. You would hang out at the skatepark, record stupid videos, do stupid things at work, and you had been one of his best friends. To even hear that you asked about him made him feel good because there’s been so many times when he’s debated just picking up the phone and calling you but never brought himself to do it.

“You think I should talk to Y/n?” Jungkook asked as the server came back once more to ask if they were ready yet but once again Taehyung asked for another minute. He nodded his head, “I think… the two of you didn’t end terribly and if she came to find you then it wouldn’t hurt to talk. I know that it’s been six years and you don’t care anymore [ you’ve said that so many times now ] but personally I would want to see the tapes.”

Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously under the table as he gnawed on his lip ring in thought. “So I should see Y/n?”

“I think so,” Taehyung said with a small smirk, “Or do you really not care because it’s been six years?”

There was a mocking undertone in his voice that Jungkook chose to ignore as he suddenly rose to his feet making his decision abrupt. Taehyung didn’t even bother stopping him as he left him behind in the restaurant, he just found it amusing. When the server came back to check if they were still not ready, Taehyung apologized for wasting their time and left them a tip before leaving too.

It has been six years, that thought hasn’t slipped Jungkook’s mind yet but that’s why he’s so confused. It’s been so long and you dumped him so for you to reach back out to him suddenly telling him you still have the tapes… don’t you realize how that can mess with his head? He’s over you, you’re over him so why would you do that? He has to know and that’s why he called the number you gave him the other night and asked to meet up.

When he got to your apartment building he was a bit taken back by the size of it. Compared to the small shoebox the two of you lived together in once upon a time, this was big and spacious. The inside was honestly what he expected. There was a record player in the corner with some old vinyls he knew you had: Deftones’ Around the Fur, Nirvana’s In Utero, Flyleaf’s Flyleaf, etc. You had a couple dead houseplants in various shades of dark green but no flowers, you seemed to still like the color black and you liked your bands and horror movies. On your coffee table was an arrangement of magazines all from the same publication and a drawing board next to it.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked from the kitchen, nervous to see him looking around so curiously. It was strange to have him here at your new place after claiming you were leaving the past in the past. Clearly that had been a lie because you’re the reason he’s here right now, you’re the one who reached out to him so you have no right to feel weird about him calling you tonight.

“Just water,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as his eyes casted down on the rundown box that he had been trying oh-so-desperately to avoid. It was shut but not well and the tape player laid next to it connected to the TV. He was itching to go through the tapes but he was also scared of what he would find on them.

Instead, he walked over to your record player looking through the various vinyls to see if he could play one. You’ve had the same player for years, it’s one he bought with you so he was well used to it and for some reason, he didn’t hesitate to go to it and play something himself like he used to. He chose a Deftones album and ‘Sextape’ began to play just in time for you to come to him with a glass of water looking at him curiously.

“Sorry,” Jungkook said once he realized he had subconsciously done what he used to do anytime he came over to your place, “Force of habit?”

It was stupid that a habit he had six years ago was coming back to him but for some reason seeing you again was making him realize how much the two of you used to love each other. He doesn’t think he has feelings for you still but he did miss you and he’ll never deny that.

Okay, false, he denied it all the time to Taehyung but that was then. He thought he would never see you again and if he did it was just in passing and that you would barely acknowledge him but that’s not what happened and he couldn’t help but miss you. If only he knew you felt the same but he always struggled to read you.

“It’s alright,” you said, moving to sit on the couch with his glass on the table letting him come join you. He sat down with a foot or two of space in between and looked around making you smile. You didn’t mean to smile but he just seemed so curious and intrigued by everything in here and as he looked around you looked at him.

God, he looked different. Last time you didn’t get a good look at his tattoos but right now you’re taking them all in with interest. Back then he would go on and on about all the tattoos he would get and now that he has them, you’ll admit he looks so good. He seemed to be doing so well for himself and that made you feel happy to see him doing what he always wanted to do. The confidence just radiated off him when before he was always a bit more insecure.

Not even just in his future plans but his looks too and now you’re noticing how buff he’s gotten. His arms and shoulders were huge and he looked intimidating, you’re sure if the 18 year old Jungkook saw what he looked like now, he wouldn’t believe it.

“How many have you watched?” Jungkook finally asked in regards of the tapes and for a second you forgot that’s why he came and it wasn’t just to catch up.

“A few, not all of them though,” you confessed looking at the box, “Some are hard to watch.”

He didn’t need you to elaborate to know what you were talking about. Toward the end of your relationship, there wasn’t a time Jungkook wasn’t recording you too and unfortunately that meant he caught a few rough moments on video. He developed them on tapes because he didn’t want to waste them and when he had given them to you he was mad and wanted to be petty so he gave them all but now he wishes he didn’t.

He realizes now that he’s not mad about the past. You dumped him because you were going to school and Jungkook wanted to go back to Busan with no real plan for his future. You worked so well together but it was so obvious that you reached a point where you wanted different things and you’re the one who had the guts to end it. Of course at the time it destroyed him but now that he’s grown from it, he can’t be mad anymore.

“Do you want me to play one?” You asked once he fell silent for too long. Jungkook bit his lip nervously before nodding his head shyly. You left his side to go set everything up and he just watched you feeling anxious. He hasn’t seen these tapes in six years and he’s not sure what to expect.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 21: THE ARGUMENT ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video started with a view of a snake terrarium in your old bedroom. It belonged to Jungkook but when he moved in with you, he brought it with and it stayed. It was red and warm with a small snake hiding in its cave but it was pretty and the two of you used to pass time staring at it with curiosity. There was a soft rock song playing in the background but it was muffled by your voices.

In truth, Jungkook had forgotten he was recording.

“So you’re going back to Busan?” Your voice was a bit groggy and low like you were scared to raise your voice too much. It was late and the two of you had spent most of your time at some manga store after work and have just now gotten home. You’ve been quiet since you had dinner and this is the first thing you’ve said to him since.

Jungkook was in a small Korn band tee that didn’t cover his full waist and showed a bit of his belly button piercing but he never really cared how his clothes fit him. His black jeans were always baggy and torn and his beanies always flattened his hair. He used to have a certain look that drew everyone’s attention even when he didn’t want it.

“Come with me,” Jungkook said in his deep tone, “I know it’s sudden, Y/n, but I don’t want to leave you, I don’t care if it’s not that far.”

“So why leave at all?” You asked, sitting down on bed avoiding his gaze, “You can do whatever you want here, why do you want to go back?”

Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment as he thought about it, “I don’t know, I don’t feel at home.”

You didn’t say anything as you sat on the edge of the bed staring at the wall to avoid looking at him. He hasn’t forgotten that you haven’t answered him yet, “Come with me.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted after some time contemplating, “What would we do?”

“We can stay with my brother for a while, find a job and start working,” Jungkook offered excitedly as he dropped down to his knees in front of you, making sure your attention was on him and not the ground, “We’ll find a place together.”

“What about school?” You asked. You’ve got about a year left, if that, and you can’t just move somewhere else and register all over again. You’ve got internships lined up and the right connections here. You have plans.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “You can transfer, it’s not hard, right? Just think about it Y/n, just you and me. We don’t have to worry about your family or anything else.”

“I can’t.”

For a second he wondered if you said anything at all because it was so quiet but when you looked up at him apologetically, he asked, “Why not?”

“I can’t just pick up everything and leave with you Jungkook,” you told him, slightly bothered by the fact that he didn’t understand that, “I’ve got plans that don’t involve me moving to Busan with a boy I’ve dated for a little over a year and who I probably won’t even be with for long.”

“What?” His face hardened as he listened to you, “You don’t want to be with me?”

“I didn’t say that,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant it, I just…”

“Just what, Y/n? Because last night we were talking about spending forever together and now you’re saying we won’t be together for long?” Jungkook said with a scoff as he stood up, his camera completely pushed to the back of his mind.

You ran your hand over your face with worry, “That was before you told me you want to move back to Busan,” you said honestly, “I don’t want to go anywhere, if you want to go and start over somewhere else then do it but you can’t just ask me to change everything I’ve had planned just so I could follow you. You don’t even have a real plan to go back. It might not feel like home to you here, Jungkook, but it does for me and it’s not fair that you can just ask me to pack up and leave when we’ve got nothing going on.”

“We have each other,” Jungkook’s voice was softer because he sounded hurt, “Isn't that enough?”

“For you, maybe, but not for me,” you argued coldly, “I can’t change my life for you.”

Jungkook stood there seemingly frozen as you got up from the bed, pushing past him and locking yourself in the bathroom away from him. He wasn’t sure what to think right now other than this was the first argument the two of you have ever had. It was an argument, right?

What even happened? You had spent such an amazing day together, he picked you up after your last class and you went out to eat. You went to a park where he played a song for you on the guitar you bought him and the two of you had been laughing all day. It felt so sweet until the moment he mentioned Busan and suddenly you had grown distant.

Suddenly you were saying the two of you wouldn’t last, is that true?

“Y/n?” You could hear Jungkook call for you with a small knock on the door, “Babe, can we talk?”

“I don’t want to,” you sniffled, “I just want to be alone right now.”

Jungkook pulled away from the door feeling dejected and blown off. He ran his fingers through his messy hair anxiously and looked around your shared bedroom for his things. He’ll just give you time to yourself and maybe later you could think things through again.

As he looked for his phone and keys, his eyes landed on the camcorder that captured the moment his snake left its cafe to curl up against a small log. He picked the camera up curiously, eyes widening as he saw it was recording.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

Jungkook sat there as still as ever, staring at the screen with glossy eyes as he watched the frozen image of himself pick up his camera—realizing he left it on. He looked down at his glass of water, feeling his throat become dry as he brought it to his lips, hand shaking.

Although it was six years ago and he had not thought about it once… seeing this video just brought him back to that day. It wasn’t the only argument the two of you had but he must’ve learned his lesson and kept the camera off. Later on the two of you argued and you said some hurtful things to him that you later apologized for but it didn’t make him feel any different.

That was the moment he realized maybe the relationship really would not have lasted long.

“Jungkook,” your voice was so soft now, slightly deeper and more mature but anytime you said his name it made his head spin nonetheless like he still couldn’t believe it.

When he looked up at you, you’re not sure what you had expected but it definitely wasn’t the sight of his reddened eyes as he took jagged breaths trying to calm his racing heart.

It’s just… back then he had been struck with such limerence that all he could think about was the two of you together anyway it could be. Sometimes it didn’t even matter if you weren’t sexually intimate, just knowing someone loved him and wanted him was enough and when you broke up with him… it hurt. It hurt really fucking bad and this video reminded him a bit of how that felt.

“I kept some tapes too,” he finally admitted, clearing his throat and changing the subject in hopes that you wouldn’t see how he was feeling. He circled the rim of his glass with his index finger as he looked down at his lap to avoid your soft gaze. A smile came to his face as he scoffed, “Um, this is kinda embarrassing to admit but… the last person I dated dumped me because I wouldn’t throw them away.”

“Because of the memories?” You asked quietly and he nodded. That’s how Jungkook was, once he told you how he never wanted to forget anything no matter how it made him feel and in this case he wanted to remember you no matter what happened and in a sense you had been the same. You wanted to keep the tapes because being with him had felt like home to you and you never wanted to leave it behind even if you said you were over it.

Watching them again was making you realize how much you needed Jungkook at the time and how much he had needed you. Maybe you still need him and it took you this long to admit that, knowing he couldn’t let you go either was like a slap in the face after the things you said to him.

The amount of times you argued that you had a future planned that didn’t need him in it only because you were heading toward different directions in life. Where Jungkook was more laidback, you were uptight and that had not been a good mix then. You told him you couldn’t just sit around in Busan and only have what the two of you had to rely on because one day he might decide he doesn’t need you anymore and throw you away after you changed your life for him. In the end, things happened in reverse and you wish you could just take it all back.

“Y/n—“

Jungkook went quiet as the soft buzz of a phone ringing cut him off and he was thankful. He didn’t even know what he planned on telling you and that scared him. Would he tell you that he missed you or that he thinks it would be best to never speak again?

You both looked down at your phone screen as it sat on the coffee table with a picture of you and Jimin smiling happily as he called. Your gaze shifted to Jungkook, “What were you going to say?”

The call came to an end and your attention was on him but he didn’t want to speak anymore and before he could tell you it didn’t matter, this stranger called again. He cleared his throat, “Um, you should answer that, it’s late anyway and we’ve both got work tomorrow. If you ever want to talk again… maybe we can, you have my number but I should go.

Your brows furrowed, shaking your head no as he set the glass down next to your ringing phone and stood up suddenly, “Jungkook, wai—“

He didn’t stop till he was out the door running his fingers through his hair, feeling exhausted and unsure of himself.

Watching that video reminded him that the two of you broke up for a reason and it had been valid at the time. It has been the right decision too even if it hurt and although it felt like a ‘Right Person Wrong Time’ moment, there’s nothing to do now and there’s no point in dwelling on the past.

He’s moved on.

Just as you debated following him out, your phone rang once more and with a dejected sigh, you answered, “What do you want?!”

“Whoa, chill on the attitude I’ve been trying to get you to answer because I have a serious question,” Jimin said on the other end of the line. Your face softened as you grew curious and worried “What is it?”

“Am I a gold or silver jewelry type of guy?” Jimin asked as he held up two matching bracelets in thought. You went quiet on your end and he raised a curious brow only to wince at the second your voice rose a couple octaves.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You groaned, throwing yourself back on your couch annoyed that Jungkook left in such a hurry because Jimin had been blowing up your phone.

“Dead serious.”

Click.

“Hello?” Jimin spoke to himself hearing the line end, “Did you hang up on me?”

The end of the week came quicker than you had expected and yet time felt to slow down for you too. Ever since Jungkook came to your apartment and watched that video with you, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The look in his eyes had captured your attention more than the video had but when he left without finishing what he was going to say… that’s when you got caught up. He used to always do that to you, he would start to say something and then try and push it away so he should know by now that you would think about it.

You just can’t help but wonder what he was going to say and it’s been eating at you for days.

“Y/n, can you pretend to listen to me?” Jimin asked as he bumped his wine glass again at yours to get your attention.

“What?” You asked looking up at your two friends who stared at you with confusion, “Sorry.”

Somin’s brows furrowed, “What’s up with you? You haven’t even touched your food.”

Your plate sat there barely eaten while theirs had been cleared out. You seemed to have forgotten where you were and it wasn’t until now that you looked around to see the three of you were still sitting in a dimly lit booth having an extremely late dinner on a Saturday night.

“Nothing, I’ve just been… y'know,” you shrugged, lifting up your silverware in hopes of finding the motivation to finish your meal. You bit your lip anxiously, your friends watching you made you nervous and it was very apparent. You haven’t told them about seeing Jungkook again but you’re not sure what they would make of it and that’s the only thing that has stopped you. You’re not sure what you even make of it, much less what they would think but you’re starting to realize maybe you need a second opinion.

“I met with Jungkook,” you finally said and despite the loudness of the restaurant, your table seemed to fall silent as they both looked at you.

“When?”

“Well, the first time, a couple weeks ago,” you said honestly, “The last time… two nights ago.”

They shared a look with each other that you had no desire to learn the meaning of before Jimin asked, “This is the ex boyfriend, right? The VCR tapes boyfriend?”

“That’s the one,” you said awkwardly, “We watched a tape the other night, it wasn’t a good one but… I don’t know.”

“You mean you invited him over?” Somin asked, making you shake your head no and she continued, “He just showed up? So did he find you first?”

“Nope, I looked for him,” you told them, hiding your face in your hands, “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” Jimin asked, “Did you two argue?”

“No,” you told him, “No, we didn’t… it’s just…”

“It’s just now you can’t stop thinking about him,” Somin said instead of asked and you nodded your head yes. She released a sigh, “It’s been six years, Y/n.”

“I know,” you groaned letting your head fall into your hands further, “That’s why I’m so confused.”

“But was he mad or anything?” Jimin asked.

“No.”

“Then why don’t you try and talk to him?” He went on making you look at him.

“And tell him what?”

“That maybe you should start over—“

“No!” Somin said, “No, it’s been too long. Do you honestly think Jungkook would want that? All they did was talk, it just doesn’t make sense. It’s not like he's been waiting six years to hear from Y/n.”

You had to agree with her, you have no idea what Jungkook thinks about all this if he even does.

Not far from where you were with your friends was a packed street filled with nightlife and club goers all getting into their Saturday night and he was amongst them. He rarely chooses to come out for drinks and loud music unless it’s with his friends and this time was no different. After spending the past forty eight hours practically shut in his shop, Taehyung finally got him to come out to meet with the girls from last time.

Although he had sworn off meeting with Yuna again so he wouldn’t lead her on… he found himself doing it anyway. He just needed a distraction, you’re all he’s been able to think about and it wasn’t good for him. He couldn’t think about you like this.

You were his ex-girlfriend from so long ago and though meeting with you reminded him little by little of how well you used to be together… he can’t get over the fact that you left him. You left him when he needed you and that should have been the end of it. That had been the end of it. He had gone to Busan and you went your own way, when he came back to Seoul he only thought about you every now and then like when Taehyung would bring you up… or when he would remember the tapes… or listen to Deftones… or look at the guitar you gave him…

Maybe he did think about you frequently but not as frequent as this and he didn’t like it. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first saw you standing under a street lamp not far from him asking if his studio was open. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first ever met you too and it’s not fair that after you left him you get to come back and try to reconcile as friends.

“Want a smoke?” Taehyung asked his friend after he realized Jungkook had gone quiet for too long even when Yuna tried to ask him things. He didn’t give a verbal response, only nodded his head and began walking out of the packed club in hopes of more room to breathe.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to reach into his pack of cigarettes and hand one to Jungkook watching his friend take it gladly and search his pockets for a lighter. He lit the end and did the same for Taehyung, looking up at the sky and attempting to tune out the loudness of the club behind him.

“So what’s up?” Taehyung asked, “You agreed to come out tonight but you seem out of it. Yuna’s been asking you questions nonstop and you’ve barely batted an eye at her.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook took a drag of the cigarette, blowing it out shortly after with a shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll tell her I’m not feeling good or something.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything for a moment as he studied his best friend, finally asking, “Did you end up seeing Y/n?”

When Jungkook didn’t immediately react, Taehyung knew the answer. He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and asked, “The night we had dinner?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, avoiding his friend’s gaze, “She didn’t ask about you this time, sorry.”

Taehyung just shrugged, knowing his friend was trying to lighten the growing tension but he didn’t care. He asked, “So then what did you talk about?”

“Not much,” Jungkook cleared his throat, a cloud of smoke covering his vision for a moment as he moved to the side to let a group of drunks through, “We watched one of the tapes though.”

“Which one?”

“It was an argument. I think it was when I first brought up Busan,” Jungkook admitted, kicking a rock with the tip of his black combat boot.

Taehyung nodded understandingly, “That’s it?”

“Pretty much, I left because some guy kept calling her,” Jungkook said, “I wasn’t sure if it was her boyfriend or not.”

Taehyung released a scoff, “You couldn’t have asked?”

“Why would it matter to me if it was?” Jungkook asked, “We’re exes for a reason, right?”

“And what was the reason, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked with a slightly harsher tone at his friend’s nonchalance, “Because you wanted her to follow you somewhere new and she didn’t want to. You’re back now, there’s no reason to not talk anymore so why didn’t you ask?”

“It won’t change anything,” Jungkook argued, annoyed by his friend’s need to always make him think about you when he didn’t want to, “So why bother?”

“Because it’s Y/n!” Taehyung said, “I get it, I really do. It’s been so long since you dated and it might not mean shit now but it did then and that’s never going to change no matter how hard you try and lie to yourself about it. And if it really didn’t matter anymore then you wouldn’t be out here tonight trying to forget seeing her again.”

“I went to see her because you told me to,” Jungkook said through gritted teeth.

“No,” Taehyung scoffed, “You went to see her because you wanted to, I just gave you the final push.”

“Nothing’s going to change thinking about her,” Jungkook said, “She’s a new person, so am I.”

“But on the inside you’re both still those same kids who ran away from home only to find it in each other again,” Taehyung said with a softer tone, “Come on man, I hate this sappy shit but open your eyes and realize that your home has always been with Y/n, that’s why you came back.”

“You’re wrong,” Jungkook glared at the ground, a lump forming in his throat, “She dumped me, she didn’t need me—“

“That’s not true and you know it, you grew apart because you wanted different things at the time but what about now?” Taehyung asked, “Y/n looked for you—I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you mad talking about it but Yoongi called me a few weeks back—right before you told me she went to the studio. Who do you think told her you were back?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he watched his cigarette burn on its own. He remembers when you went and you talked about the tapes but he didn’t have the courage to ask how you knew where he worked or that he had moved back. He should have asked but did it matter?

The muffled sound of music and chatter blurred out the silence that had grown between the two friends and Taehyung knew Jungkook had nothing to say. When a phone began to ring and the chest pocket of Jungkook’s black plaid flannel lit up with the outline of a screen and Taehyung didn’t have to ask to know who that might be. He dropped his cigarette on the floor to put it out with his shoe before placing an encouraging hand on his friend’s shoulder and leaving him outside alone.

For a moment Jungkook debated following him back into the dark nightclub and pretending like he was having the time of his life with Yuna but he knew he wouldn’t. He reached into his pocket and answered the call without another wasted second of hesitation, “Hello?”

“Jungkook, hey?” Your voice sounded a bit hoarse and he could hear noise behind you, “Are you, um, bu—do you have a moment?”

Jungkook looked up at the moon, taking a deep breath coming to terms with the fact that he’s afraid to open himself up to you again even if it’s just as acquaintances, “I’m not busy.”

“Really?” You asked slightly surprised, “Well, I—I was wondering if maybe you… um… maybe you wanted to meet me somewhere? O-or if, y’know you’re home… maybe I could come over to talk about us? My friend interrupted us last time and I feel like a lot of things went unsaid.”

You mentally cringed at yourself for sounding so nervous but what else was there to be expected? If you didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt now then maybe it’ll be another six years before you get to do it again—or worse, you won’t get another chance.

Jungkook looked around for the street sign as if he could imagine the distance he is from your place, “Where are you?”

Your heart seemed to raise, “I’m out with friends downtown but I can leave right no—“

“Where downtown?” He asked, walking just a bit away from the club entrance, listening to you tell him the street, “I’m a couple blocks down from there, at Club X.”

“Club X?” You asked and for a moment he debated telling you he was just with Taehyung but you quickly said, “Don’t move, I’ll walk.”

“Y/n, wai—“

Click.

Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair nervously, looking around once more knowing he should just stay put but you told him where you were too and the thought of just standing here waiting for you to arrive didn’t sit well with him. It would be too long of a wait and if he waits any longer he’s scared he’ll back out from wanting to see you too… so he ran.

You left your friends without much thought to how they felt about it, you paid your bill and left them just like that, practically running out the door. Before Jungkook could reject your proposal you hung up on him and that meant that if he didn’t want to see you then he would be leaving soon and you had to get to him before he did. You just needed to be honest.

Your feet ached from the heels you wore but that didn’t stop you from running down the uneven sidewalk, bumping into people on your way and checking for traffic whenever you crossed a street.

You wanted to be with him again, or at least try to be even if it was just as friends. It didn’t even have to be romantically [even if all the romantic feelings you had for him came back], you’ll take whatever he gives you as long as you know that he might feel the same. That’s all you want to know, that he might feel the same so you ran to him.

Jungkook was out of breath but he moved at a quicker pace than you did, running so fast he nearly dropped the person that bumped into him but he caught them before they could fall and held them by the arm, “Sorry.”

You stopped, tightening your hold on his forearm in shock, “Jungkook?”

He nearly stumbled as he froze on the spot, looking down at the person he bumped into on his way to you and his heart raced, “Y/n.”

“Jungkook, I—I told you to wait,” you stuttered as the two of you stood there at the end of a crosswalk ignoring all the people that passed you, “I—it’s about us, I wanted to see you—“

“Y/n,” he repeated your name, eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might regret asking to meet him but he found none. Before he could stop himself, his hands had made their way to your jaw, pulling you closer and it was all you needed to see to throw your arms around his neck and drag him down to meet your lips with his.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate to kiss you back with as much need and desire as you had and let his eyes shut, relishing in the feel of your soft lips that he had forgotten the taste of. The small kiss had been everything he missed, so soft and tender yet there was no mistaking the intense longing in each languid movement of your tongue with his that he nearly forgot where the two of you were till a car was honking annoyingly at the public display of affection—egging it on.

You pulled back with a pant, trying to catch your breath as your eyes ran along his face trying to understand his expression, hands sliding down to his ribs unsure if you should hold him or not. There was a lot you wanted to say but right now you wanted to feel him like this more, “Where?”

Jungkook bit his lip, breathing heavily through his nose as he slid his hand into yours and pulled you toward the street raising a hand to call a cab, “Mine.”

He was also aware that the two of you needed to talk and he planned on doing that but first… first he just needed to have you in his arms again. He just needed to feel you want him back one more time before the weight of whatever the two of you talked about came crashing down and there was no going back. It’s been six years of not being with you, you would think any ounce of romantic attraction would be gone and yet every time he remembered you or thought about you, it hit him harder than before and he spent the cab ride kissing you like he would never get the chance again—and he might not.

When you got to his house, you didn’t get a chance to look around when Jungkook was dragging you back into his arms, kicking the front door shut and kissing you.

“We’ll talk after,” you said more to yourself than to him when he yanked off his unbuttoned flannel, walking you backwards down a hall.

“After,” Jungkook repeated, breathless as he pulled away to kiss down your neck, placing soft kisses along your jaw and down your jugular. You craned yourself back to give him more room and dunk your fingers into his short black hair. He let his hands roam down your body, memorizing the feel of you under his fingertips once more and gripping your sides as you released a small gasp when the back of your knees hit a bed and you were falling back. His hands went to your back feeling along the material of your short black dress he hadn’t had a chance to admire and gently touched your ass, making you breathless before you felt his fingers slip under the hem further to feel along your spine, pulling the dress up until you were taking it off.

“It’s been so long,” he whispered softly between small kisses along your shoulder blade, letting you fall back on the bed in nothing but your underwear and bra. He sat back on his knees, staring down at you with glossy eyes. God, he missed you so much. He missed everything about you from your body to the way you used to softly run your fingers through his hair.

Six years.

Six years without seeing you laying down underneath him sliding a finger between the valley of your breasts teasingly, reaching behind you to take it off. He watched, nearly hypnotized by the way you slowly revealed all of yourself to him, saying, “Too long, I’ve almost forgotten how you feel.”

Jungkook licked his lips looking down at your bare chest, sinking down to lower his head until his nose lightly brushed against your soft skin making you wither just a little.

“I’ll fix that,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours and pressing a light kiss on your exposed breast, warm breath tickling you and making you bite your lip with anticipation.

“I want to see you,” your voice was as soft as his had been and he couldn’t help but sigh in content, nodding his head and pulling back to undress. He yanked off the black t-shirt he had worn under his flannel and kicked off his black denim jeans throwing them off somewhere on the floor near his snake terrarium that produced a red light—a huge contrast to the blue hue of light the rest of his apartment showed. When he sat bare between your parted legs you took in the sight of him.

His tattoos danced across his skin with every flex of his arms and it was all so new to you that you wanted to memorize it all. You reached your hands out hesitant to touch him, and heard a quiet gasp come from between his lips when your hands ran over his chest feeling every ridge of abdomen muscle, until you touched the top ball of his belly button piercing—surprised he still had it. His muscles tightened, feeling your fingertip slide back up until you were tracing the patterns of ink on his arm and shoulder.

"Y/n," Jungkook said your name with such tenderness that you stopped and looked up immediately, watching him hover over you and lower his mouth to the expanse of your neck sucking on your skin lightly. You bit your lip with want feeling his kisses moving lower, kissing along your collarbone. You ran your hands along his back when his tongue licked down to the valley of your breasts, tracing circles around your hardened nipple teasingly, bringing one into his mouth and sucking gently. The tip of his tongue flicked at your bud before capturing the whole thing in his mouth and licking the end, hands running along your sides to keep your body in place.

He kept this up for some time that all you could do was lay there and attempt to catch your breath as he memorized himself with your body again. It wasn’t just your breasts that got attention, he kissed your ribs and stomach, down your arms and along your neck. When he kissed along your navel toward your pelvis, his rough fingertips played with the hem of your panties until you were lifting your hips enough for him to slip them off you, leaving you just as nude as he.

“I missed this,” he said hoarsely, hands sliding down your inner thighs until he was slowly pulling them apart and fixing himself comfortably between them, “I don’t think you realize how much.”

He didn’t even realize how much he had missed—he didn’t allow himself to and now that he’s done it, it’s all he could focus on.

“I missed you too,” your tone was soft yet he could feel the emotion through it and it made him pause for a moment, debating if this was a confession or not and if he should stop so the two of you could talk.

He hadn't even touched you in the place you needed him most and yet you were on edge already. It’s not like you had expected to even kiss—much less this—that you found yourself already aroused but it felt so good to have him touch you again. After so much time apart, your body still reacted to him the way it used to and part of that scared you to admit.

"Jungkook," you licked your lips when his hair tickled against your cunt meaning he was getting closer. He hummed in response. Your voice was dry as you asked, "Condom?" It took him a second to pull away looking you in the eye as he sat back. Realization hit him like a truck as he stared down at your naked body then his, painfully aware of his hardened member and how quickly you had made him like this with only some kissing and teasing. He shook his head, "I don't—"

You sat up enough to pull him down and kiss him again, wanting nothing more but for this to continue whether you had a condom or not. “I don’t care, if you don’t.”

It didn’t take him long to understand what you meant and with the way your tongue kissed his, he couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to. Before, he used to take his time with you, making sure he satisfied all your needs with his tongue or fingers—whatever you wanted and he had subconsciously decided to do that tonight too. The only difference is that it’s been too long to take his time, he needed you now.

Your eyes ran over his body, still in disbelief with the sight of him above you, watching his hand slide down his toned stomach to his aching member. He stroked the tip of his cock softly, in search of some release as he let you take all the time you needed to watch him. The room was quiet aside from your heavy panting and buzz of his heat lamp but it still felt so loud. Your blood rushed to your ears, realizing what the two of you were doing and for a moment you wondered if this was a good idea but it didn’t take long for you to realize you didn’t care either way. You could worry about the repercussions later.

Jungkook leaned down between your parted thighs until his lips brushed against yours and his hard cock pressed against your wet heat, “You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart dropped at his tender words, breath hitching in your throat and letting your hands touch against his arms, “Even after so long?”

There was a soft sound of a cricket not far outside the window and when he whispered, “Everlong,” to you, you had to stop and stare into his eyes in search of something to say. It was a small ode to Foo Fighters’ song ‘Everlong’ and how no matter how much time you spent apart, he would forever feel this way about you.

The red heat lamp did little to light the room along the moon but he still saw the way your eyes seemed to water, feeling your hands brush against his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

He seemed to freeze even as his cock aligned with your folds, coated in your arousal and all he needed was one push of his hips to feel you once more and yet he stopped, “Sorry?”

Did you want to stop?

Did you realize that this might not be the best idea?

Had he said something that made you want to leave?

“I was scared,” you admitted suddenly, “We wanted different things and I was scared that you would realize that after it was too late and you would just throw me away.”

He resisted the urge to scoff, bringing a hand up to push your hair out of your face and onto the pillow, “You know I never would have, baby.”

The pet name slipped out without his intention, “I never loved anyone as much as I loved you.”

It didn’t slip by either of you his use of past tense but you understood what he meant and you hated that you couldn’t before. It’s crazy how a silly little friendship between two coworkers who like the same music and style had developed so far out into the future that when your relationship ended, you couldn’t ever fully move on.

“I want to feel you,” you whispered, your nose brushing against his as he dropped his head to look down at the small space between your bodies. Jungkook was gentle in finding your entrance with the tip of his cock, guiding himself between your folds until you released a gasp at the stretch. Although it hurt for a moment, it didn’t take your body long to get used to him—like it had been waiting to feel him all this time and your mouths drew open in silent gasps when he bottomed out waiting there for the stretching. Even without foreplay your bodies seemed to know exactly what they needed to do and you hugged him, releasing a small moan in his ear as he dropped his head against your neck. Jungkook felt his heart race as you clung to him, letting him get used to feeling your walls around his dick once more and for a second it felt like too much, “Oh fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you so much,” you confessed with a sigh when he drew his hips back slightly before bringing them forward in a single thrust as if testing the waters first, “So much, Jungkook.”

What’s crazy is how you had been so unaware of it as if some of the things you did weren’t constant reminders of him that you had to force yourself to forget. You still wore beanies because of him, you listened to fucking Korn because of him, you still slept on the right side because he liked the left—even when past partners would argue that they liked that side too, you never changed it. You had craved him in every aspect of your life even when you had forgotten it… that’s why you kept the tapes.

You let out a moan from his slow thrusts, in and out, in and out, dragging his cock out slowly as if letting you remember what it felt like to have him inside of you against and it had your legs moving to wrap around his waist. You grip his shoulders tightly moving your hips in rhythm with his, it was a slow and sensual yet rough fucking that had you begging, “Jungkook, more."

He rose his head from your neck, hips thrusting his thick cock into your wet pussy, doing exactly what you wanted.

He licked the corner of your mouth as you watched his hips draw back before pushing forward harshly, “I wanted to stop thinking about you, baby, but I couldn’t.”

You heard him clearly and you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant, you simply ran your hands down his toned, muscular back guiding him to fuck you harder as he went on, “Even when I thought I hated you, I couldn’t let you go.”

The two of you were supposed to talk after and yet he he was losing his rhythm and talking to you while passionately and aggressively fucking you. “I’m sorry,” you repeated with a soft moan, “I should have never left you.” You kiss him for a moment before he moves down and leaves a bite on your chest making you whine out from it and he moves his hands down to your hips, gripping tightly as he fucked you harder, “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.”

" Jungkook," you moaned again, clinging to him, feeling your climax close, "I still love you."

He seemed to come to a halt at your sudden confession and you nearly pushed him away, surprised by yourself and your impulsiveness but he only pressed his body harder against yours.

"I love you so fucking much," he growled into your chest as he began to pound into you. The room filled with a string of moans as he fucked you unlike he ever had before, completely different yet still as passionate as he used to and moaned into your ear, “So close.”

“Ngh,” you gasped, “You feel so good, I think I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in content, clinging to you as much as possible, “Please, Y/n, I need to feel it, one more time baby, it’s been so long since you came for me.”

His thumb had slid down your body until it found your clit which had hardened with arousal and he rubbed light patterns around it, feeling your walls twitch and it became harder for him to drag his cock back out with the way you tightened.

“I’m going to cum,” he admitted, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs urging you to let him go but your legs held him in place and he realized what you wanted—he wanted it too. He didn’t want to pull away from you for even a second and as your walls convulsed around him with release, he couldn’t help but let go with a moan.

He held your body to his panting heavily as your sweat covered bodies clung to each other desparatelt, both letting your orgasms ride their wave before pulling apart.

It took him a moment to gather enough strength to pull out, doing so with a small tired grunt until he was rolling onto his back feeling out of breath, hand searching for yours on the bed.

The realization that the two of you just had unprotected sex after six years apart seemed to hit you first and you sat up worried, looking over at him as he struggled to catch his breath, “Bathroom?”

He lifted a tired hand toward his en suite and you left him tired and alone in the darkness of his bedroom.

You cleaned yourself up as best as you could, trying not to let what just happened cloud your mind and remind yourself that you had wanted to talk to him. You’re not sure what this meant, if this meant anything more than just sex between ex lovers or if this was more but you didn’t have much time to question it when Jungkook knocked on the bathroom door and let himself in. He walked past you to the large bathtub, running the water and letting it fill as he looked at you with worry, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, biting your lip, “You?”

A small smile came to his face as the water quickly filled behind him, “Yeah.”

When the bathtub was filled, Jungkook took your hand in his and led you inside the water, “But we should talk.”

“I agree,” you said, suddenly shy by your nakedness and brought your knees to your chest, sinking into the water with your back pressed against the side of the rub. Jungkook sat on the other end, never letting go of your hand as he pulled you toward him until you were between his legs with your back against his chest.

“Y/n,” his voice was soft as he cupped water in his palm to pour down on your bare shoulder, “I really did miss you.”

You released your lip from between your teeth, leaning further against him, “I missed you too.”

“And I want to be with you,” Jungkook admitted, “Even if it’s not how it used to be.”

It was impossible to be how it was six years ago and he’s realized that now but he doesn’t care. If you asked him to be friends even after the passionate sex the two of you had just had, he would do it as long as it meant he could be with you.

“You don’t hate me?” You asked sounding worried. You still loved him and it was embarassing enough to know you finally admitted it when he was inside you but it didn’t change the fact that it was true. You loved Jungkook so much and maybe you always had deep down even when you told yourself you didn’t but could the two of you really try this again?

“I could never,” he said placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as he began to wash the front of your body with his sponge, “You know that.”

“But I left you—“

“No, I left you,” Jungkook said, “I’m the one who wanted to move Y/n, not you. I’m the one who made you feel like you had to choose.”

You stayed quiet and he worried he upset you.

“I came back because I realized that my home wasn’t anywhere else but with you,” he confessed, “And I was too much of a coward when I came back that I didn’t go looking for you the second I had the chance to.”

“Jungkook,” you turned to face him, cuddling into him in the bathtub and eyes wide with affection, “Let’s try, one more time. L-let’s, let’s give us a shot… I… I—I have so much I wish I could’ve done better and if you just give me a chance I promise I will love and support anything you do—“

“Y/n, I would give us a million chances over again if it means I could be with you still.”

::.

yallllll the took me forever 😭ik there wasn’t too much focus on their relationship in the tapes but that’s bc I’m gonna do drabbles of them when I get the chance

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shunsuiken · 7 months

Text

HOW THE GENSHIN MEN FIND YOU DRUNK

pairing(s). kaeya, diluc, zhongli, childe, ayato, thoma, tighnari, kaveh, wanderer x gn!reader

genre. fluff + mentions of alcohol use ofc + reader is a lightweight (welcome to my life guys <3)

wc. 400-800 for each character

an. SOOOOO this was inspired by a cdrama i watched back in 2021 and when i saw it i just HAD to write about it <3 also i think i had a bit too much fun on zhongli’s and childe’s i hope its not so obvious dear god. also??? for some reason the ones i had the hardest time writing for ended up being the longer parts omg

kaeya alberich

after spending some time upstairs with a couple of treasure hoarders who were completely unaware of being thoroughly deceived by the cunning cavalry captain, kaeya decides to head down and run over the knowledge he collected with mond’s famed beverage, death after noon.

but as he walks down the staircase, he spots a familiar figure sitting by the bar. he squints his eye slightly, almost not believing the sight in front of him. is that y/n? on the high stool by the bar? dozing off to only a few shots of liquor? tonight just became even more interesting. now he’s starting to wonder what things you would say under the influence—for no shady reasons, obviously, as he genuinely enjoyed your company and witiful mouth. he’s just a curious man with the goal of unveiling a few other things about you.

he makes a beeline to the bar, setting himself on your right side so you’re in his line of vision. glancing around, he motions for charles for his death after noon. kaeya only turns to you once his drink arrives, quickly giving you a once over. seeing as how it looked like you came to angel’s share after work he might as well stir up a conversation.

your vision is blurry but you can definitely feel the presence of another person beside you. as you lift your head from your crossed arms, your brows crease in irritation. which imbecile decided to disturb your time alone? you’re literally brooding over the fact that captain kaeya would never be yours, so you irresponsibly decided an hour ago that some liquor would magically help you forget your worries.

you’re ready to scare the person off with a glare but what you’re met with is quite literally, much worse (because your glares don’t work on him and also because he's part of the reason you’re in your drunken state).

kaeya chuckles at your expression. “why the long face? it’s just me.”

you rub your eyes, groaning from the bitterness lingering in your throat. of all people, you weren’t expecting him. “you never stop by on wednesday’s. is something up?” you ask drowsily as kaeya watches you pick up your glass, clumsily squinting at the bottom of it to see if there was any more of your liquor left.

kaeya dodges your question, humming, “y/n sweetheart, you look like you’re on the brink of passing out.” he tilts his head, observing your flushed expression. if you can’t handle your liquor, he doesn’t mind taking you back home if it means securing your safety.

“am not,” you reply, turning your gaze to him. it’s all thanks to the alcohol that you can do so when in reality you actually struggle to maintain eye contact with him. “you… you haven’t answered my question yet. why’re you here?” your voice is hoarse and you’ve made enough voice cracks to entertain a crowd, but kaeya finds it rather endearing instead.

kaeya could reply honestly. but this conversation is one to be forgotten after you woke up tomorrow morning. he could lie and you would never know he did, but for a reason unknown the lie he was supposed to tell never left his lips. instead he blurts out the plain truth.

“somebody has to be responsible for you, y’know,” kaeya teases you with a grin but his actions are the opposite of his tone. he stands from his seat, pulling your arm over his shoulders to support your weight even when you attempt to resist his help. he keeps your body close to his so you don’t fall over. hopefully you’re drunk enough to be oblivious of the erratic beats of his heart alongside the cautious and warm touch of his hand on your waist.

diluc ragnvindr

he still can’t believe he has such a massive crush on you. it’s almost embarrassing to let others know about this secret because nobody would expect someone like diluc to have a thing for you. it’s even harder to hide that fact when you’re sitting at a table with venti and kaeya. they’re laughing their asses off at some joke you told them.

“cheers to y/n!” venti hollers, cheeks undeniably pink. “you are paying for this, right?” he leans back down momentarily, making you release another burst of laughter from your lungs at the way he mentioned it. “of course!”

after chatting, you decide to greet the man of the house by the bar. it’s been a while since you’ve seen the master diluc of dawn winery anyway. as you get up from the table to make your way over, you accidentally bump into a crowd of big, brawny adventurers who’ve just arrived.

“oh—!” tripping backwards, your hands fail to find something to keep yourself on your feet before your fall is cushioned by someone.

they hold onto your shoulder as your back collides with their chest. the force from being pushed aside has you breathing unsteadily, and it doesn’t help that you’re pretty tipsy right now too. however, despite how tipsy you are, you feel as though air is sucked right out of your lungs when you spot a tuft of crimson red hair from the corner of your eye.

you stand right up immediately, facing the person you fell onto.

“master diluc!” the dazed and naive look on a drunkard's face normally doesn’t appeal to diluc but this expression on yours actually makes you look rather adorable. your eyes are half-lidded and your smile is lopsided, and oh if he could squish those cheeks of yours-

“uh, master diluc?” you blink, toning your voice down a bit.

“oh.” diluc slides out of his mindscape, paying attention to your words. “yes? would you like a drink on the house?” because if you actually asked that, he would have sent one your way on the spot.

you wave your hands dismissively. “n- no no, not that! i was just asking how you were doing. you haven’t stopped by angel’s share since last month, i thought something was up so when i heard you were here today i…” you trail off, realising that you’re rambling and that diluc probably didn’t want to be greeted like this after taking a month off but when you look back at him, he’s still looking at you (and has been since you fell into his arms).

diluc raises his brow when he no longer hears your voice. but when he sees an expectant look in your eyes, he offers you his arm with a smile. “how about you tell me everything by the bar? that way i can serve you properly.”

your cheeks burn like a wild bonfire as you take his arm, now struggling to find excuses to somehow change the topic of conversation because if you continued your sentence from a minute ago, you would have exposed your secret attraction for the man in front of you.

(funny how you don’t even need kaeya or venti to expose you, you’re already the man for the job!)

diluc senses your sudden nervousness at the invitation. he does his best to bite away at the fond smile making its way to his lips. if he can help calm your nerves then maybe you’ll tell him about how much you missed his company at the tavern.

zhongli

zhongli didn’t know that his late night stroll around the streets of chihu rock would include witnessing your drunk state at third-round knockout. the streets have thinned out and it’s rather late too. he wonders what brought you over to the distinguished tavern.

the curious adeptus makes silent haste to peer over your shoulder. a cup in your hand and your head is lolling over. putting two and two together, you must have had your fill of alcohol for tonight.

zhongli finds himself chuckling before neatly folding his hands behind his back. “i wonder how y/n is faring on this wonderful night?”

your head snaps out of your drunken state momentarily, the coherent cells in your brain recognise that voice immediately but your vision is blurry. so instead of being able to greet the gentleman with dignity and grace, you end up tripping over the levelled bricks below you.

“oh—!”

zhongli is quick to open his arms and catch you, his reflexes still polished despite his retirement as the geo archon. your head bumps into his chest as you grunt at the slight fright. and after regaining your foothold on the bricked ground, it comes to your attention that your body is flat against the man in front of you. more specifically, his arms are wrapped around your waist to keep you steady and your hands are fumbling awkwardly in the air because you don’t know where to put them.

looking up to meet zhongli’s eyes is exactly what you expected but you can never maintain eye contact with him. it’s not your fault he’s so handsome! his kind gesture makes your cheeks warm up, and he probably doesn’t even mean anything out of it but sometimes your mind likes to be a little creative and indulges you in a variety of impossible scenarios.

“archons, zhongli i’m sorry—i didn’t see you i—”

“it’s not a problem, y/n. shall i walk you home?” zhongli offers, voice gentle and non-judgemental, like you didn’t just trip over a couple of bricks.

you shake your head, earning a raised brow from him. “i only live a few minutes away. plus, look at the time, we’ll look weird.”

“holding you in my arms will not make us look weird, rather i believe this is appropriate for us both. don’t you think?” the way zhongli tilts his head to the dominating tone in his voice makes you feel so small.

“i mean—sure but,” you reply, not daring to look directly into his eyes unless you were going to expose your hidden feelings for him. “but i’m drunk. it’s my fault, i can take myself ho—” your words are caught in your throat when zhongli lifts you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the steps and continuing down the street to bring you home.

this extra pinch of boldness is something that lays dormant within zhongli. but it always comes alive when you’re around. he has spent enough time around mortals to pick up the signs of the heart. your reactions to his touch, your flickering gaze and the heat from your face is no brainer. however, he will have to properly communicate with you when you’re sober.

for now, he only hopes that you will disregard the warmth radiating off his neck when you lean in to rest your forehead there.

childe

he’s dancing. dancing to his heart’s content. the band plays the second to last song but the harbinger barely feels like he’s lived up to the heights of the night. he requires more vigour, more energy from his dancing partners. sure, they were all wonderful dancers but he’s really only waiting for someone else to enter his field of vision.

childe knows you’re around here somewhere, you told him personally a week before the ball that you and your father were invited. after all, only the most distinguished noblemen and women were eligible to attend. and you, being the one and only child of one of the leading snezhnayan trade merchants, are an obvious guest on the list of invites.

childe dances, switching and gliding between different and eager dance partners, secretly hoping that the next gloved hand he would take would be yours. unfortunately, for the second to last song, he still doesn’t manage to find you amongst the crowd of participants dancing. so when the music stops he makes sure to return everyone a wave and entertain those who greet him warmly, doing everything in his power to stop the itch of impatience showing on his sweaty face. thankfully, he manages to maintain a calm and composed expression.

childe’s head perks up to a certain sound. amongst the music, the cheers and the clings of wine glasses he recognises a laugh. a laugh, to the extent of his knowledge, only he’s able to get out of you. he brings his wine glass away from his lips, licking the remnants of it from his bottom lip as he captures the sight of you chatting away with other guests.

scanning the guests’ faces, he concludes that they’re harmless thanks to information he was told prior to the event. so he makes his way over, smoothly including himself in conversation just to make an excuse to the other guests to ‘borrow your attention’ for a moment.

you take his arm that he offers you, holding your wine glass in your other hand. childe has always been a gentleman towards you, such a passionate person with excellent manners. you’re almost always guaranteed to have a grand time whenever he invites you out (obviously as friends, which you two have made known to the entire town).

“so ajax, tell me about your journey to liyue—” your throat interrupts your speech with a very clear hiccup. “—harbour.” your cheeks burn, quickly apologising for your lack of manners under your breath.

childe hums, loving how you used the name he told you to use when it’s just you and him. “your grace, are you drunk?” he gazes at your flushed face and how your styled hair looks more undone. he thinks you look better this way actually.

“i might be,” you sigh, wanting to hand your glass over to a butler but childe stops you before you can, taking your glass to quickly down the last sips of your beverage.

“ajax, what are you doing?!” you tap his arm repeatedly with concern, telling him to slow down.

you just got that glass a few minutes ago! but besides that, he’s drinking the wine you just had?! what if his lips touch the part yours did on the glass? not that you mind at all—you wouldn’t dare say that out loud but your thoughts are as clear as day on your expression.

childe enjoys the look on your face, satisfied and relieved that you didn’t show a hint of dissatisfaction. “i’ve not had the honour to dance with you tonight.” he passes the empty glass onto a passing butler’s tray. “shall i have the pleasure now?”

kamisato ayato

by this time in the evening, you, thoma and ayaka are probably done playing the hot pot game. which is alright since ayato knew he would return home from business later than usual tonight, but that doesn’t stop him from checking up on all of you. so when he slides the door open to see his faithful retainer, his sister and you sleeping soundly in the designated hot pot room at komore teahouse, the lord cannot help but stifle a fond laugh.

it then comes to his attention that the room reeks of alcohol. oh dear. that explains why everyone’s blacked out.

“‘yato?” he watches you lift your head from the table. ah, you’re still awake… and definitely drunk. no wonder you dropped the formalities all of a sudden. if you were sober you would have rushed to greet him by the door and refer to him by “my lord” despite all the protests he’s made to call you by his first name instead.

ayato hushes you gently, ignoring how his heart skips a beat at the mention of his first name leaving your lips and sits himself beside you. he’s almost taken aback by how you immediately lean onto his body for support. he knew you were an affectionate person but you normally asked before proceeding with anything just in case he felt uncomfortable (surprise! he never did). so seeing this side of you is rather refreshing to his eyes.

“what’re you doing here?” you blink hardly at him but it’s to no avail as the alcohol in your veins distorts your vision.

he brings you closer, gloved hand rising to caress the back of your head. “i just came to visit. however, it didn’t occur to me that you would all have so much fun without my presence.”

“nonsense!” you claim dramatically, a satisfied smile immediately appearing on ayato’s face at your predictable reaction.

you poke his arm you don’t realise is already sat on your waist. you’re too ready to defend your lord from his own words to notice anyway.

ayato scans your face. lavender eyes find your plumped lips, the thin sheen of sweat along your cheeks and your hair attempting to escape the confines of your hairpin—hold on a moment, he got you that hairpin!

the way ayato has to physically restrain a grin from showing on his face is uncharacteristic of him. he’s noticed that he uncovers new parts of himself whenever you’re beside him. such an interesting person you are…

“we were waiting for you—hic—however, we got a little distracted.” you admit, gesturing at ayaka who sleeps soundly on thoma’s jacket. you look up at ayato through your eyelashes, giving him a lopsided smile.

“i remembered your—hic—advice when you said ayaka can’t drink more than a glass. she might even have it worse than me. but thoma, on the other hand, was a completely different story. that man was a mess!” you move your head to look at thoma’s body sprawled over the floor, ugly giggles leaving the back of your throat at how much of an idiot he looks like right now.

your hair tickles ayato’s chin but he pays no mind to it when he’s so immensely amused by your relaxed nature when drunk.

thoma

thoma mentally checks his list of things to do before retiring for the night. his lord is in his office, accompanied by a freshly made pot of tea, his lady should already be sound asleep and the other retainers are also readying to retire too. he sighs to himself, patting his jacket down as he heads to the kitchen to finalise his cleaning.

when he enters the kitchen, he is baffled at the sight in front of him. he stares blankly for a moment to process it.

there’s remnants of sake dripping out of a tipped-over tokkuri and his lover who plays with the o-choko absentmindedly with their finger, drawing invisible lines along the rim. thoma stifles a giggle, a curled finger covering his lips.

his giggle sends your consciousness back into focus. you only have the power to tilt your head ever so slightly to the right, your movements pausing on the o-choko when your gaze falls upon the view of your lover.

“tho—ma,” your cracked voice calls for him, making him rush toward you in such fondness so he could pinch your cheeks.

“oh, y/n, what are you doing?” thoma asks as giggles leave his lips, watching you squint at him dazedly. “it’s dripping from the corner of your lips as well!” he takes a napkin, sitting next to you to wipe it away gently.

“wh- where’ve you been, pretty?” your words are slurred but thoma hears you perfectly well.

the pet name makes him blush, but you’re too drunk to notice. “i’ve been doing my job—oh, honey—” he huffs when he brings you to lean on him instead. the longer you lay your head on the table, the more you’ll want to throw up later (and thoma makes sure to prevent that from happening).

you giggle at the little voice crack you hear when he calls you by your pet name, leaning onto his chest as your head rests on his shoulder blade. taking advantage of this position, thoma presses a cool ceramic cup filled with water by your lips and when you lazily open your eyes, you see that it’s the glass that’s been sitting on the side from earlier.

“drink up, honey.” you can’t refuse such a request when it’s mumbled so affectionately by your ear. you’re probably even warm at your cheeks from it, but then again, the sake has kept your cheeks warm for a while. you can’t even tell anymore.

after taking a few sips of water, your throat feels fresh and renewed—if thoma heard your thoughts, he would deadpan at you and say “y/n. it’s called getting hydrated” in a sassy little voice. this scenario amuses you and it causes a small laugh to leave your lips.

above you, thoma is confused. “what are you thinking about?” he asks curiously with a smile.

as you rest your head on thoma’s shoulder again, you reply, “you. i’m just thinking about you.”

tighnari

a shout from outside tighnari’s lodging brings his attention away from his documents, brows furrowing and pushing himself up from his chair to see why his forest rangers are making such a fuss at an ungodly hour (yes, tighnari was awake at said ungodly hour but that wasn’t because he was with his fellow rangers after a night out!).

“tighnari, we’re back!” a drunk forest watcher waves and yells at the figure of tighnari, who has his arms crossed in front of him.

a sigh leaves tighnari’s mouth, one of exhaustion, to be precise. “do you intend to wake all of gandharva ville up? go find yourselves home and rest.” he turns around to head back inside until another forest watcher pipes up.

“wait, tighnari! y/n’s black out drunk!” a female forest watcher, who’s eyes can’t even look at a single point any longer due to the alcohol running in her veins, displays your figure with your arm dangling over her shoulders. “you need to take them back, i don’t know where they live!”

tighnari raises a brow and chuckles, shaking his head. “yet you’re sober enough to tell me this.” he walks towards the group of drunkards and collects you easily from the forest watcher, carefully placing your arm over his shoulders while his other hand holds your hip.

you barely know where you are and what’s happening but it appears that your assigned guardian angel for the night has retired and put you in more capable hands—or, arms. you blink in an attempt to gather knowledge of your surroundings but it’s to no avail when everything is a blur of darkness with hints of warm light from the dew lights.

a grunt escapes your lips in slight frustration as you walk away with this other person, but they’re quick to hush you gently and in a soft voice you hear, “i promise we’re almost there, just walk with me, okay?”

“yeah, okay,” you reply promptly but to tighnari’s ears, he’s never heard such a tone in your voice ever since you were recruited. his heart skips a beat and his ear twitches along. it’s rare to see you so vulnerable and he can tell you have no idea that he’s the one carrying you back to… well, his lodging. because your lodging is simply too far away (it’s only a bridge away) and he can’t have you walking any longer when you look like you’re on the verge of passing out!

he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him when his gloved hand holds onto your forearm to keep your body steady against his as he walks you to his lodging. his body is going against him and his heart can only take the blame for such ridiculous delusions. what does he think he will get out of this?

he’s just your chief forest watcher, that’s all he will ever be to you—is what tighnari thinks. but in reality, you only went out with the others to spiral in alcohol due to your failed attempts of romancing your handsome superior. it seemed that the sumeru roses and the letter you left at his doorstep were blown away by the wind (you had to commit blasphemy on that day and curse the anemo archon), the pita pockets you made for him were stolen away by some petty treasure hoarders when you weren’t looking and overall, your thoughts were a mess thinking about your failed attempts. it was like your beloved archon forgot to bless you with wisdom to avoid these situations.

“see! i told you he had a soft spot for them!”

“it’s so obvious the feelings mutual, i can’t believe they didn’t believe us.”

“they’re literally the only one who can’t see it!”

tighnari clears his throat loud enough for the group to hear him. he turns around and gives them a pointed look until they’re all skipping away to their respective lodgings.

he glances at your drunken face for a brief moment and smiles to himself, continuing to walk you back.

it appears that all his worries were meaningless.

kaveh

the sight of you leaning against the door to his home almost makes his soul fly right out of his body.

“hello y/n, i thought we were meeting for dinner?” but when kaveh finally makes it to where you are, you are nowhere near sober. no wonder your figure was leaning against the wood so flimsily. you were akin to a ragdoll at this point. “great heavens, is the end of the world upon us? why are you drunk before me?” he hesitantly collects you in his arms while mehrak hovers beside him. he can’t have you just leaning like that!

“went to… birthday party… drinks…”

that’s enough information to bring kaveh up to speed with the situation. but also… why did you decide to go to his house?! was it instinctive?

kaveh cringes at his thoughts and opens the door with his free hand while his other hand supports you by your waist (he can feel his palm warming up to the touch on your body and it’s making the poor man sweat). “come on in, let’s sober you up.”

when you’re sat nicely on the couch, your eyes are still closed with zero awareness of your surroundings. how your head suddenly tilts backwards at such speed almost brings the most horrific yelp out of kaveh, he’s relieved to know his reflexes are still sharp enough to have caught your head before it snapped right off your neck.

“archons, you’re going to give me a heart attack!” he holds the back of your head and somehow manages to bring your body to lean against the spine of the couch. he doesn’t forget to put a pillow behind your back either, because you being drunk doesn’t mean you’re drunk enough to not feel discomfort.

after collecting himself from that scare, he returns with a cup of water, hands carefully hovering it in front of your lips. “here, drink up,” he says but you keep moving your mouth away from the cup that it’s slowly beginning to irritate him.

“y/n, you need to sober up if you’re going to walk home later,” he tells you in a more serious voice which makes you groan, throwing your head forward into your hands.

“you don’t understand.”

“what don’t i understand?”

what am i doing here? i swear i was in front of my friend's place… how is it that my drunk feet led me here? out of all the places on this continent, why did i take myself to the one place i’m trying to avoid?!

kaveh raises a brow and puts down the glass of water. “is something wrong, y/n? i haven’t even seen you since last week.”

“i’ve been… busy…” trying to keep my feelings at bay!

“i see,” kaveh responds before adding, “do you still feel drunk?”

“i wouldn’t say i’m drunk to the point of passing out—i did feel like that earlier but now that i’m sitting i can at least participate in conversation.” you remove your face from your hands.

why is his face so pink? you think to yourself, grabbing the glass of water from the table to take a sip before leaning back with your free arm supporting you. you grin to yourself, feeling a little cheeky.

you offer the glass of water you just drank from to kaveh, hovering it in front of his lips and you swear you almost watch his eyes fall out of their eye sockets.

“what—what are you doing?!” kaveh’s voice shakes and you let out this cute drunken giggle that makes his heart leap.

“i know i’m the one drunk, but for some reason you look drunk without even having drinks!”

kaveh touches his face and he purses his lips. his cheeks are so used to being hot from being in your presence that he didn’t even realise!

“allow me to assist you.” you lean your body a little closer so you can press the chilled glass of water against kaveh’s cheek.

his bottom lip falls and quivers when you lean closer towards him. last time you were this close, you were putting medication on his face after a run in with fungi.

the coldness of the glass somehow gives him time to think to himself—rationally. maybe in this moment right now he could…

“thank you, y/n.” you’ve never heard this tone in kaveh’s voice, it’s unfamiliar and so… tender. what he does next makes you finally meet his scarlet eyes.

a warm hand wraps around your wrist that holds the glass to his cheeks, your skin immediately lights up in fire at the contact. it makes you gulp so embarrassingly loudly before him.

he leans into the coolness of the glass, gazing at you with such gentle eyes that it’s tempting you to look away. as his thumb gently caresses your skin, he smiles. “it helps.”

wanderer

wanderer returns to his home a little later than usual tonight. he made sure to leave a note on the dining table to let you know of his whereabouts for the day. he knows you have the propensity to worry about him, despite his claims that he’ll be perfectly fine because of how well-versed he is in the arts of defence (and nasty attacks). which is why he left the note on the table, and he acknowledges how it was moved to another spot on the table from this morning.

you’ve seen it. he thinks to himself and now he wonders where you are. you’re not normally out at this time and from your cute daily schedule reports you tell him before bed, he doesn’t remember you mentioning that you would be out until this time. or if you were going out with friends.

that’s alright. wanderer can wait.

the tapping of his own foot is driving the man on edge. it’s been two whole hours—the sun is far beneath the horizon and the birds are already snoring. where the hell are you? wanderer cannot do this anymore, he rises from his seat and takes flight with his anemo abilities.

the city is rather easy to navigate at this height. in the dark, the city is at least still lit up by streetlights and with the help of one nearby lambad’s tavern, he spots your curled figure sitting on the floor very easily.

he hovers over the cement before landing smoothly on his feet. “what are you doing here at this time? it’s so late,” wanderer remarks with irritation, standing in front of you with his arms folded. he stares at your figure with a frown.

“h-huh?” your voice comes out hoarse, lifting your head and your eyes slowly make out the figure of wanderer. “o-oh it’s youi… where’ve you been?” you manage to say despite how the world shakes around you.

“tch, what do you—” wanderer stops himself, raising a brow then finally taking the time to scan your face and posture and it hits him.

you’re fucking drunk.

“you’re insane,” wanderer scoffs, kneeling down to silently take a closer look at your face and body for any drunkenly bruises. “do you even know what time it is? i was waiting for you.” he doesn’t exactly know what to do with his hands but he decides to offer you one to help you get up on your feet.

“you think i’m insane but really, you’re the one doing insane things all the time! you know, like fighting fatui agents in the rain… to avenge a bird!” you put emphasis on the word ‘bird’ and wanderer scoffs at the finger you point at him.

“it was in danger,” he replies simply before sighing, “but that’s not the point. you’re drunk outside at a time like this so i’ll be taking you home now.”

talking to him magically makes you more sober with every passing second. you decide to play with him a little, leaning back on the brick wall as the crease in your brow melts away. “ooh, shouldn’t you take me on a date first?”

wanderer groans, pulling his hand back. he’s never had to deal with you drunk before! so he thinks for a moment, and he stands tall on his feet, turning his head the other direction. “if this is how you will continue to act then i will leave you to your own devices, however if you come back crawling to me—”

wanderer almost gasps at your figure suddenly standing beside him, steady on your feet as you give him a hard and long stare. “you don’t have to tell me twice about how you wait for me at home, i’m well aware of that. complain all you want about me but your words aren’t consistent with your actions, my love.” you slide your hand down his arm to reach for his hand as you lean your head on his shoulder.

you feel him tilt his face in the other direction. curious, you briefly lift your head for a moment to spot your pretty artificial lover gritting his teeth as a sheet of pink blankets his cheeks.

“fool,” he whispers, but there is no malice behind it.

#kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #ayato x reader #thoma x reader #tighnari x reader #kaveh x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff

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stargirllanaa · 3 months

Text

୨⎯ "Bad Liar" - R.C

❥ Masterlist

Warnings: NONCON smut, Dark!Rafe, Toxic relationship, abusive relationship, Domestic violence, mentions of drinking, rafes pretty bad as usual

Summary: You snuck out to hang with the pogue’s… bad idea. Idea is from a comment on this post.

A/n ✎: OMG thank you for 200 followers!! I started writing Rafe like 3 weeks ago but the overwhelming support has been so motivating <333 love you all sm! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed!!! Btw my request are open again, don’t be shy ;)

Wc: 2.1k

18+ MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!

You quietly entered your house, locking the door behind you. It was 2 am, and you had just driven home from the other side of the island because you had to sneak around to hang out with your friends. Your boyfriend Rafe didn't like your choice of friends, often calling them ‘dirty pogues’ and claiming that they were all ‘trying to turn you against him,’ and that pissed you off.

Just because Rafe had a problem with Pogues didn't mean you had to, and frankly, his reasoning for hating them so much was stupid; because of his issue with them, you were frequently isolated. Still, you wouldn't let Rafe stop you from having a social life outside of him, so you would sometimes sneak out late at night, go to the cut, visit your friends, and return home like nothing had happened.

You did feel guilty about going behind Rafe's back, but what could you do? You weren't going to cut all your friends off because Rafe told you to. It wasn't like you were cheating.

You made sure to cover all of your tracks. Knowing Rafe had your location, you left your phone at home every time you snuck out. You always left at night so you could text Rafe ‘goodnight,’ and he wouldn't suspect anything from you not responding, and you would always make it back in three hours at the most just to be careful. You knew if Rafe found out about you sneaking around, he would be furious; you had been disobeying his wishes for months and lying to his face.

As you crept up your stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible, you couldn't help but smile; even though you hated to admit it, you and Rafe never had fun. I mean, you two had ‘fun’ in his way, like going golfing, parties, ‘Rafe stuff,’ but you two would never do anything you wanted to do, and with The Pogues, it was the opposite; you got to get messy, get drunk on the beach even do girly things like braid Sarah's hair or have Kie paint your nails, things that you could never do with rafe. It was a relief to do something you enjoyed.

You opened the door to your bedroom, which was pitch black; you had turned all your lights out before you left; you felt around on the wall for the light switch, flipping it upwards. The lights momentarily blinded you, but you jumped when you saw the manlike figure on your bed. When your eyes finally focused, it was worse than what you expected.

Rafe was sitting on your bed, staring directly at you; his face was unreadable and emotionless, which was terrifying. Your boyfriend was usually expressive, the type to lash out when angry; you had never seen him this calm, and you certainly didn't expect him to be calm after catching you going behind his back.

You stood frozen in the doorway, unable to tear your gaze away from him or move. This didn't feel real.

“Where were you?” Rafe asked, breaking the silence; his voice was monotone, empty of emotion as he sat on your bed, just looking at you.

Your throat felt dry, and your tongue heavy with unsaid words. You struggled to find your voice and form a coherent response, and the utter shock and fear rendered you speechless.

“I don't want to repeat myself,” Rafe mumbled under his breath; he was allowing you to come clean and save yourself from whatever he had planned if he caught you in a lie.

“I was…” you blinked a couple of tears back, thinking of what to say. “I went to the gas station… to get some.” you looked up and then back at him, fidgeting with your hands. “snacks.” you lied, voice cracking from nerves.

Rafe smirked, slighting, breaking his calm facade. Did this amuse him?

“Right.” Rafe nodded, looking at his lap as if he was thinking about what you just said. “So you went to the gas station, right?” he asked, awaiting a response.

You nodded, but you couldn't stop the tears from glazing your eyes and your whole body from trembling.

“And you left your phone at home?” Rafe questioned you, head tilting slightly and his eyes narrowing.

You completely forgot that since Rafe was waiting for you in your room and most likely saw your phone on your nightstand. Your lies were falling apart before your eyes.

“I forgot-” You mumbled quietly, still standing in your doorway. You hoped you weren't loud enough to wake anyone in your house, but you were too scared to get closer to Rafe.

“Y/n,” Rafe muttered, pushing himself off the bed, now standing in front of it. “I'm done with the lies. Alright?” the blonde sighs, now talking with his hands. “I've been here for,” he looks down at his expensive watch, taking in the time. “2 hours,” Rafe admits, fist clenching to his side.

Your face fell when he said that, he had caught you; he had to know; there was no excuse or lie you could think of to justify why you were at the gas station for 2 hours in the middle of the night. Your heart started to beat faster, and your tears finally spilled over; you weren't just scared, you were terrified; you didn't want to admit to hanging out with the Pogues, but what else could you do? You had tried lying and failed, making the situation worse, and Rafe probably already expected the worst. I mean, you were sneaking out in the middle of the night. That would look like cheating to anyone.

“And I don't see any snacks either.” Rafe sighs as he combs his finger through his hair.

He was right; you didn't even think of that; you were a horrible liar.

“So I'm going to ask you one more time.” Rafe’s posture was stiff, and his hands were shaky, “where. Were. you.” his tone was sharp, and his breathing was speeding up as he waited for your response.

“I was at the chateau…ok?!” You blurted out loudly, quickly covering your mouth after realizing your door was still open. “John B’s place, it was me, Sarah.” his eyes rolled when you mentioned his sister, “Kiara, Pope, JJ.” You were now half whispering and hyperventilating simultaneously; your tears were prevalent as you told your boyfriend everything. There was no point in lying anymore, he had caught you, and he was pissed.

“We were just hanging out, and I'm sorry; I know I should have-” You were just saying anything that came to mind, trying to improve this situation, word vomit.

“Come here.” Your boyfriend mumbled, cutting you off; his voice was low and shaky.

You shook your head. ‘No,’ you didn't want to be anywhere near him right now; you had just admitted to lying to him multiple times and didn't want to face the consequences.

“Ok,” he shakes his head before running his hand through his hair again and saying something under his breath that you didn't quite catch.

Before you knew it, he was charging at you. You tried to run out the doorway, but as soon as you turned, one of his arms was wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his stiff chest, and with the other, he used his hand to cover your mouth in one swift motion before using his foot to shut your door.

“You were lying to me.” he hissed into your ear, pushing you against your wall, back facing him. “Calculating plans behind my back.” he used the hand that was around your waist to grab a chuck of your hair, forcing your head to snap to the side. “To hang out with dirty Pogues.” he was now gripping your hair so tight you felt it might come out of your head. “And probably sleep with them behind my back.” His voice didn't raise once as he automatically assumed the worst.

You couldn't deny his claims; his hand was over your mouth tight, your parents were right upstairs, and he knew that.

“How many times? Huh?” Rafe questioned you, pulling your hair back just enough to make eye contact, and when you looked into his eyes, they didn't look normal; they were dark. “How many times did you fuck those disgusting Pogues while you pretend to be asleep?” he was dead serious.

He slowly moved his hand from over your mouth, waiting for you to respond, but when you let out a loud cry instead, he quickly covered it again before slamming your head against the wall, which was also noisier than he expected.

In Rafe's mind, he couldn't accept the fact that you and another guy could just be friends, especially not you and a Pogue; in Rafe's mind, you 100% cheated on him, and there was no convincing him otherwise. He was disgusted; who knows where those pogues had been or who they had been in? They were filthy and grimy; who knows what you could have given him.

“You're disgusting.” Rafe whispers in your ear before flipping your body around to face him, stuck between him and the walls.

“I can't believe I trusted you.” His hand was now grabbing at your hair again, gripping the top of your scalp and using it as leverage to push you down on your knees in front of him.

You fought back, trying to stand straight, but Rafe quickly overpowered you. And before you knew it, you were kneeling before him like he wanted.

“I'm going to let go of you, and if you make any noise…” he paused momentarily, looking deeply into your eyes. “I'll kick your fucking teeth in.” he threatened, voice still shaking. “Understand?”

You nodded to the best of your ability with his tight grip on your hair and face.

When he let go, you tried your best to stay quiet, letting out little cries and whimpers, but not enough for him to fulfill his threat. The tears hadn't stopped since he'd caught you, and you were so fucking exhausted from all the fun you had earlier and now the pain, accusations, and tears. But when you looked up to see Rafe unbuttoning his pants, you couldn't keep quiet.

“No-” You protested quietly, as you started to hyperventilate, tears now fully clouding your vision. “Rafe-” You couldn't even catch your breath. You were panicking.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe demanded quietly, but his tone was still harsh as he pulled down his pants.

“I can't breathe-” You were cut off by Rafe pushing your head, causing it to slam against the wall; you immediately rubbed the back of your head to soothe the pain as you cried harder.

Rafe was getting more annoyed with you by the second, jaw ticking every time he looked at you. He grabbed your chin roughly, pulling your face closer to his crotch.

“I told you to shut the fuck up.” Rafe sneered as he used his other hand to pull his boxers down and begin stroking his cock right in front of your face.

You couldn't stop crying. You couldn't believe this was happening; just an hour ago, you were out with your friends, having fun, not even worried about your boyfriend. You had gotten away with sneaking out so many times already; how could you have known today would be any different?

“Open your mouth,” Rafe demanded as he held his cock right in front of your lips.

You tried to turn your head to the side, but Rafe wasn't having it. His grip on your chin got tighter and tighter until you tried to cry out in pain, but as soon as you opened your mouth, he got what he wanted.

His hand holding your chin was back on your hair as he guided your head up and down at a quick, harsh pace. Sounds of gags and rafes and low moans filled the room. It was music to his ears but traumatizing for you.

“Fuck y/n.” Rafe moaned out, “I'm gonna miss this.”

You were a little confused, but if you were being honest, you were barely listening to Rafe anyway, too emotionally broken to pay attention to whatever he was saying.

“Can't be with a bitch who would fuck a pogue,” Rafe grunted out.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Enjoyed my fic? Leave feedback! Comment/reblog!

Wanna see more? Check out my fic Sweet little lies.

Also tagging @necroflame (bc I lied about the post time to many times 😭) and @fabienne6656 for the idea!!! Thx bye..

#dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #dark rafe cameron #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe x reader #obx imagine #dark!fic #dark!rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #obx fic #rafe imagine

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2chopsticks2eyes · 10 months

Text

Well Shit

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Fem Reader

Themes: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: ~30k | AO3

Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Alcohol, Cussing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe, Vaginal Sex, Protected Sex, Unprotected Sex, Friends With Benefits

Summary: Your ex is a cheating bastard who had been your only experience with sex (which he was absolute shit at). Getting back into the dating game was not what you expected, so your older brother's annoying best friend, Minho, decided to offer to show you the ropes on what it's like to have actual good sex.

Author's Note: This work was inspired by a request from @kyungpenguin33. This took longer than I expected because life hit me like a truck for a while. But hopefully, nothing slows me down for the next fic I have in store!

__________________________________________

“He didn’t even fucking deserve you anyway! You’re too good for a guy that constantly smells like pickles and dick cheese.” Your best friend Tiffany blatantly carped as she sprawled out on your bed while mindlessly scrolling away on her phone.

You had just recently broken up with your boyfriend of three years and for some goddamned reason, Tiffany had to bring up the topic constantly. Apparently, once you get to college, boys decide they want the next, new thing. You just wished he would have ended things with you before he started fucking half of the ‘sorostitutes’ that were willing to open their legs for him.

You felt like a jug of milk. What was once a refreshing, healthy relationship, started to slowly become sour and curdled. You thought you two were in love, hence the long-lasting relationship, but you guess he saw the expiration date before you did.

It had been about a month since you ended things with him, yet here Tiffany was, rambling on and on about how she always knew your relationship ‘was doomed to fail’ and ‘emotionally toxic’. You couldn’t help but wonder, if she ‘always’ knew that, why did she never say anything to you about it? Why did she constantly fawn over him? Why did she feel the need to whine about how she was ‘so jealous of you for snatching him’?

Now, you loved Tiffany, you did. She was always there for you when no one else was. Even if she mostly acted as if you were a child and considered herself your influencer. You learned to look over it because, whatever she did, she did it out of love, right?

That’s what led you to invite her over to your house, well, more like your family’s house because who the fuck can afford to live alone on campus as a broke college student these days?

Anyway, you were currently laying down on your stomach on the plush carpet of your floor with oodles of papers and textbooks spread around you while Tiffany, still on your bed, continued to berate you with nonsensical chatter.

“I knew he was a bad apple from the start, but I didn’t say anything because I wanted to be a good friend and be supportive of you. And now what? This is where it got you.”

You rolled your eyes and slumped your head down into your hands. “I get it, Tiff. I should have seen this coming. But I’ve moved on now…” You were… partially telling the truth. “...and so should you. I’m glad you care about me, but I don’t even want to think about that douchebag ever again.”

She lowered her phone and raised an eyebrow at you that silently screamed ‘uh-huh suuuure’, then she sighed deeply and returned to her mindless scrolling with a ‘higher-than-thou’ look on her face.

“Tiff, didn’t you come here to study with me? We have finals in two weeks and a paper due in economics tomorrow.” You said while assessing her lax composure.

“Oh, I’ve already gotten that taken care of. You really need to stay on top of that kind of stuff, ya know? Or else the next three years of your undergrad is going to be a disasteeeer~! Not to mention veterinary school after that!”

You scoffed and returned your attention to the mounds of work around you. Here we go again with the whole ‘I’m more mature than you’ act. It’s true that you really needed to pick up the slack, but you also knew that Tiffany was only at a marginally passing grade. She always half-assed her work.

The sound of a phone buzzing pulled your attention and you looked up to see Tiffany putting her phone up to her ear. “Heeey baby! What’s up?” You internally cringed from her zero to sixty babygirl voice. “Right now? Yeah! Totally free!..... Uh-huh….. Of cooourse….. Kay kay! Be there in a jiff! Love ya babe! B-byyyeeee.” You wanted to gag but quickly composed yourself when she returned her focus to you, sitting up from the bed as she spoke. “Jay’s wanting to go out tonight so I’mma bouce!”

You wanted to say ‘why did you tell him you were free if you were obviously here for me?’ But you decided to just let it go. You weakly nodded your head. “Kay, have fun.”

“Oh you know I will.” She said in a suggestive tone. She basically skipped away but stopped with her hand on your bedroom door handle. She turned back to you with a brazen smile. “Like, I know we’ve only been dating for, like, a week, but my god that man is way better in bed than my last boyfriend was.” She spoke quietly as if someone would hear her gossiping in this completely empty house.

“Who, David?” You engaged ruefully, not quite sure which poor soul you friend was preying on this time.

“No, silly! It’s Mark! David was the one I dated before Chad and Chad was the one before Mark.” She giggled bubbly.

You chuckled. “Man, you really know how to pick ‘em, huh?”

She rolled her eyes and looked at you pitifully. “I can’t help it that I have standards that these guys can’t live up to!” She released the doorknob momentarily and began to look quizzical. “Now that I think about it, maybe I could hook you up with Jackson! He was one of the better ones!” She declared jovially while pulling out her phone again. “Plus, someone needs to show you what a good fuck is like now that your previous old scrotum has moved on…” She rambled as she searched through her phone.

You sprung up from the floor like lightning and rushed over to her. “Nononono, Tiff. No matchmaking, please. Especially not with your sloppy seconds!” You pleaded while holding her arm pathetically.

“Too late, love! Already sent your number to him! You’ll thank me later, trust me.” She winked at you and gave you a peck on the cheek. “Love ya lots! Lemme know what he says!” When she turned to the door and opened it, both of you were startled out of your skin to see a man with sandy blonde hair holding his hand up as if he was about to knock on the aforementioned bedroom door that was now wide open.

Lee Minho.

Why this motherfucking bane of your existence was here, knocking on your door, you didn’t know. But your focus was shifted by the bubbly giggle of your best friend. “Oh my god, Minho! I didn’t know you were here! Why didn’t you come and say hi to me??” Her exuberant voice rang loudly.

Your best friend was a serial flirt and everyone knew this, but it still pained you to watch it unfold firsthand anyway. Especially to the man she knew to be a close family friend.

“Uhhh, actually I came here to see your friend.” He awkwardly stated before he turned to you with a big, annoyingly cocky smirk. “Hey there, kitten.”

You just grumbled and pushed past him and grabbed Tiffany’s arm to see her out.

As you two retreated, Tiffany hollered over her shoulder to him. “I hope we’ll cross paths on campus later! Bye, Minho!” You heard Minho reply with a faint ‘bye’ as you ushered her out with a quick hug goodbye.

Now, here's the thing you need to know about Minho, you don’t hate the guy, you just find his existence to be extremely annoying.

Lee Minho was your two-year-older brother’s best friend since you were in middle school. For as long as you could remember, Minho was a constant visitor at your house. He was always treated like family by your parents and that had never changed over the years. However, when your brother decided to study abroad and Minho wanted to stay at home and go to the nearby community college, you figured he would slowly drift away.

Nope. Why would you think such a thing? You already knew it was his life goal to be a pain in the ass.

That motherfucker would come to your place weekly, almost even several times a week, just to hang out with your family. For some reason, you were the only one who found it weird because your parent’s welcomed him with open arms like he was a part of the family. Even going as far as giving him the key code to the house! It wasn’t like he had a bad relationship with his parents or anything, he had a wonderful family! Which just made it more annoying when he would come around.

You couldn’t really figure out just why he got under your skin so much, he just did.

Which is why, when you shut the front door behind you and turned back inside to see a smug grin stretched across his unreasonably handsome face, you felt the urge to just go ahead and punch the pretty off of it. “Mom and Dad are out of town right now. You’ll have to come back next week to annoy me.” You said scathingly as you marched back to your room.

You could already feel yourself tense up when he turned to follow you. “Well, what’s the fun in that if I can just annoy you now? Just ‘cause your big bro’s gone doesn’t mean you can get rid of me that easy.” You dropped back down to the floor where your circle of stress resided and he plopped down onto your bed, immediately making himself comfortable on it as if it were his own damned cotton duvet he was sprawled across.

You snapped your head at him. “Do you have any particular reason to be here other than to drive me up the fucking wall with your shit?” You gave your deadliest glare, but that just seemed to amuse him further.

“No, that’s about it. Gotta keep you on your toes, ya know? Plus I would never be opposed to… what was it you said? ‘Driving you up the wall’? Sounds like a really fun challenge to me.” His smile was evil and you hated that it made him look even more attractive.

You scoffed in disbelief and returned to your notes. “Great. I feel honored to have warranted your undivided attention.” Your voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Well, if you have nothing better to do, at least keep it zipped up while I study for my finals.”

“Oh? You sure you don’t want me to zip it down instead? You might find something even harder than those finals there, kitten.” You shot daggers at him with your eyes but his suggestive smile remained all the same. This motherfucker… did he really just say that?

This was a norm between the two of you. He would teasingly make lewd or flirtatious comments to you and you would always tell him to kindly fuck off. You never truly had any malice to your words and he knew this. So, the playful banter continued.

“OR I might find myself with an outrageous hospital bill after I shove your testicles so far up into your ass that you choke on them.” Your voice was saccharine sweet as you openly threatened him. It was as if you were a well-behaved waitress that would spit in his pudding spitefully.

He didn’t miss a beat. “Sorry, babe. I’m not into the whole cock and ball torture kink. Maybe we can explore what you like instead?”

You hoped he didn’t notice the red tint to your ears as you muttered expletives under your breath. “What I’d like is for you to shut the hell up and let me STUDY.” You obviously sounded absolutely done with his playful banter and he finally relented.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. Fine. I’ll leave you be this time, kitten.” He stood up from the bed and crouched down in front of you, flicking the edge of the textbook you were scanning over. “But if you ever need help with any of this, let me know.”

You just hummed your response, opening your laptop in front of you and refusing to make eye contact as he reluctantly slunk away from you and out of your house.

When you heard the front door shut, your head dropped from your shoulders to hang in front of you as you groaned. Why, just why, did you both end up wanting to be veterinarians? He constantly made fun of you, saying, “oh, it’s so cute how you want to follow in my footsteps!” or “you chose this major to be closer to ME, didn’t you?”

UGH.

And that stupid smug face of his he made when you had finally declared your major was on a constant loop in your brain. He only called you that stupid nickname because you had rescued a cold and starving kitten on the side of the road when you were in high school and he named you that because that’s what made you find your dream of becoming a vet.

You were IN LOVE with your little Boots. Not to be mistaken for footwear, you named your kitten Boots because she was entirely black except for her four white paws. She was your number one emotional support after your breakup and you had no clue what you would do without her.

As if on cue, Boots casually walked into your room, licking her chops (most likely just finishing demolishing her food bowl like the little piggy she was), and nonchalantly plopped down right on the entirety of your keyboard as if it was her own personal heating pad.

“Boo-baby! I’m working!” You made no move to do anything about it because when cats demand your attention, it’s a crime not to comply. She just stared back at you with an adorable slow blink and your hand moved on its own to start petting her.

Her purring instantly started easing your mind and a fond smile bloomed on your face involuntarily. Slowly, her soft fur and soothing sounds washed away your worries. You felt the stress of school turn into confidence that you knew what you were doing and a reminder that your grades have been awesome. You felt that the annoyance of the people in your life, your ex, Tiffany, Minho, well… they didn’t really matter in terms of you living your own life.

This is your emotional support. Your precious Boots.

Without any words spoken or her even knowing what was going on, she knew when you were suffering. And she always made it her job to help you. That’s why it hurt your soul to meet people who say they hate cats because they are ‘evil’ or ‘assholes’.

Okay, yeah, they definitely can be assholes, but they aren’t inherently evil! They just have unique… personalities. It takes time and love to earn their trust, but when you do, the bond is like a special gift that is only reserved for you.

It was at that moment when you were lost in your thoughts that your phone buzzed. When you unlocked your phone, you saw a text from a random number.

Unknown Number:

Hey, is this Tiffany’s friend?

You:

Yeah, who’s asking?

Unknown Number:

Hey, this is Jackson

We met a couple of times a while back

Tiffany’s ex, remember?

You:

Yeah I remember

Look, I’m sorry if Tiffany told u something weird

I know she had good intentions but…

Please just ignore her lol

Sorry if she made u feel uncomfortable 😅

Jackson:

Nah, I’m not uncomfortable at all 🙂

Actually, I was kind of looking forward to talking to u

You:

Really?

Why tho?

Jackson:

I dunno 😅

I know we only met a couple of times

But I remember u were pretty cool

Really cute too 😉

You blushed a bit and found yourself kind of nervous. It felt like it had been ages since you were single and you just kind of forgot how to interact with guys that were interested in you… but you were kind of excited that someone was into you. Even if you felt like an utter twat trying to think of a response.

You:

Really?

Ur not so bad urself 😅

Jackson:

Oh yeah?

I know me and Tiff used to date and all but…

I was kinda excited to hear that u were available

You didn’t know if you wanted to thank Tiffany or strangle her.

Jackson:

I was wondering…

U have any plans for tomorrow night?

Okay. Keep it cool. Don’t be weird.

You:

I have class until 6

But after that I’m free

Jackson:

Nice, u wanna go to Sideways with me?

I hear they’re giving people one free shot tomorrow

You weren’t a huge fan of the local bar, too many college students and not enough dancing, you were more into the nightclubs where you could just dance to your heart’s content while blending into the crowd. Plus, who takes a girl to a bar for a first date? But you weren’t about to tell him that, so you figured one night wouldn’t hurt.

You:

That sounds like fun

Count me in

Jackson:

Awesome! It’s a date, then! 😉

I’ll pick u up at 8?

You:

Sounds good!

See u tomorrow! 😊

Jackson:

Bet, see u then

You screamed internally and looked at Boots. “Holy shit, Boo-Boo… What the fuck am I doing?” She just stared at you blankly, deciding she was bored with you now as she stood to stretch dramatically before she hopped up on your bed to make herself comfortable there instead.

You tried not to spiral into anxiety but this would be the first date you had been on after your breakup. You had no clue how to act or dress or not seem like a meager airhead that spends her Saturdays watching anime and cuddling her cat in bed wearing nothing but her panties and an oversized graphic t-shirt.

…Yeah you desperately needed assistance. You just prayed that Tiffany would be available to help.

________________________________________

“Not this… ew, no… oh GOD definitely not!” You just sat at your small vanity while Tiffany was raking through your closet to find you something to wear.

Classes were a lot less stressful that day than you had imagined and Tiffany was more than eager to help you get ready that night. You were thankful that you had a good amount of time to get ready because Tiffany was being super picky. Like, she looked like a fucking hound dog sniffing out anything that seemed even remotely designer.

“Do you have ANYTHING sexy in here?! I feel like I’m browsing through the clearance section at GAP!”

“Hey!” You knew she was kind of right, but she didn’t need to point it out so blatantly!

“What? It’s true!”

You huffed. Your ex never really took you out on fancy dates so you never really had the need for anything other than everyday clothes.

“Well excuse me for not dressing like fucking Kim Kardashian at the Met Gala!” She just crossed her arms and raised a brow in a ‘come at me, bitch’ kind of way. You sighed in defeat. “If I have anything remotely suitable, it’s probably buried in the back…”

You turned around to your mirror to continue with your hair and makeup, which was a whole other challenge in itself. You were already basically finished but you decided to be meticulous because, why not? Your new first date since high school should take at least a little effort, right?

“Well it’s not anything near perfect, but this will have to do.” You turned back to your friend laying out one of your black, tighter-fit dresses. “Where are your heels?”

You stood up and walked over to assess the dress. You hoped you could still fit in it, it had been forever since you wore it. “I can’t wear heels, remember? I would legitimately break an ankle if I stepped on anything that wasn’t even a tiny bit of flat ground. And even that is not guaranteed to keep me upright. Heels on me are just a hospital bill waiting to happen.”

She looked crestfallen. “Oh right, I forgot you’re clumsy as fuck. Those weak ankles will be the death of you, I swear” You giggled, knowing she was completely accurate in that statement. She hummed as she assessed your limited amount of shoes. “I suppose these strappy Mary Janes would look cute. Not necessarily the sexiest, but they will suffice.”

You had already stripped and were about to put the dress on when she stopped you.

“You’re not going to wear that underwear, are you?” You looked down at your plain, black cotton bra and panties and shrugged.

“Yeah, why not? Black works pretty well, no?”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have anything sexier?”

“Why? It’s not like I’m guaranteed to fuck him on the first date.” You stated as you grabbed the dress.

She grabbed it back from you with an incredulous face. “Are you serious?” She put the dress back down on the bed and grabbed you by the shoulders, donning her typical expression of looking down at you as if you were a child. “Honey. Now I know you haven’t dated in a while, but when a man takes you for a night out at a bar, he’s wanting to do the nasty, bump uglies, go home for ramen, Netflix and chill, beat that puss–”

“Alright! I get it! I get it!” You interrupted before she could plant any more images in your head. And really? For a first date? At this point, you really did feel out of the loop. You had only had sex with one guy, were you ready to go that far with a guy you barely knew?

“Well… I’m just gonna play it by ear… if he doesn’t like my underwear, he can go milk his monster by himself.”

She sighed and stepped back, rubbing her temples. “Fine, but if that happens, don’t come whining to me and asking for more hookups.”

You didn’t even want this hookup in the first place! You had to internally hold yourself back from throwing a bitch fit and just forced yourself to calmly reply with– “Okay, Tiff. I won’t.”

She looked smug for some reason and you slid your way into the tight dress. “Ew! How is there already so much cat hair on it?!” She whined, trying to pat the hair off your ass.

“I have a cat, Tiff. Cats shed. You know this.” She looked annoyed and retrieved the lint roller from your nightstand.

When she finished rolling all the hair off you and you put on your shoes, she had you spin to assess you. She sighed. “Well, you’re no Audrey Hepburn, but at least you’re giving the right vibes.”

It was at that moment you both heard the front door open. Your parents were still on their anniversary trip so there was only one person it could be…

“Minho! We’re in here!” You quickly shushed your best friend, but the damage was already done. The door to your bedroom opened and Tiffany immediately walked over to grab him by the arm. “Ohmygod, perfect timing!” She was wrapped around his arm like a monkey and he looked slightly awkward until he looked at you. “Look at my masterpiece! I mean, probably not a masterpiece, per se. Especially with the limited resources I had to work with, but isn’t she great?!”

He was frozen next to her as he looked at you. “Y-yeah…” He seemed to snap out of it and he returned with his usual cockbox smirk. “What’s got you all dolled up, gorgeous?”

“None of your goddamned busine–”

“She’s got a hot date tonight! Like super hot.” Tiffany cut your scathing remark off.

Minho’s smile slightly faded and you rolled your eyes. “Okay, let’s not get carried away, Tiff. He’s a good-looking guy you decided to force upon me, that’s all.”

“Oh don’t give me that, bitch. I know you’ve already thought about fucking him ten ways to Sunday and back!” I mean with all the talk of fucking the man, how could you not imagine it?

You figured spit boxing was no use and, as if fate was on your side, Jackson texted you to tell you he was here. You huffed at the pair and grabbed your clutch purse. “Whatever, I have to leave anyway. Just lock up when you decide to leave…” You marched past the two and straight for the door before you felt a hand grab your wrist.

“Hey…” You raised a brow at Minho who had broken free from Tiffany’s iron grasp. “Be careful, okay? You have my number so call me if you need anything, yeah?”

You felt goosebumps and brushed off his hand. Was this Lee Minho being serious for once? What was the world coming to? “Yeah. Okay, whatever.”

And with that, you walked out the door, leaving Tiffany in your house alone with Minho. For some reason that just didn’t sit right with you. Why though?

________________________________________

The date was going… not as well as you expected…

The car ride was nice, he made pleasant conversation and he was super flirty. But when you guys got to the bar, Jackson ran into some of his guy friends and ended up getting absolutely wasted. However, he did keep you close to his side the whole time. Maybe a bit… too close?

He had his hand around your waist the entire time, keeping you pulled close to him, and he paraded you to his friends like you were a fucking strumpet and they quickly seemed to take a liking to you as well. He had then decided to take you out back because he and his friends wanted to smoke.

“You want one, gorgeous?” Jackson offered you a cigarette and you declined.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke.” You decided not to mention that you thought smoking was absolutely repulsive and gave you the urge to blow chunks. However, you remained vigilant in your composure.

“Oh c’mon, you don’t wanna try?” His buddy said across from you, absolutely sloshed.

“I’m good, thanks.” You couldn’t hide the disgust in your voice and there was a lull in their conversation.

One of the taller, beefier friends of Jackson spoke up. “That’s a real pretty girl you got there, Jax.” He tilted his head to address you. “You got any friends, darlin’?”

Before you could answer, most likely to tell him to kindly fuck off, another man spoke up. “Or maybe Jackson wouldn’t mind sharing.” You immediately felt chills wrack your body. You didn’t know these men… you didn’t know what they were capable of…

They all laughed and you looked at them with disgust. You turned to Jackson and spoke quietly in his ear. “Can we talk?”

He looked at you with a lopsided grin and pulled you back inside, winking to his friends as he closed the door behind him. He led you to a quiet hallway next to what looked like the bar’s stockroom. You felt his hands move to your hips as he pressed you up against the wall. His hands roamed up and down your sides, making your skin crawl, as he looked down at you with hunger. “Kay, baby. Let’s talk.”

Without any further indication, he started hungrily kissing you. You didn’t want to not reciprocate, but the man was all tongue and it kind of made you sick to your stomach, especially with the taste of cheap beer and smoke lacing his spit. You gently pushed his chest, but he refused to back away. You moved your head to the side to escape his mouth, but he just continued to kiss down your neck.

“Jackson! I really just wanted to talk!” You tried to reason while he continued.

“We are talking, baby…” He growled against your skin.

You had lost your patience when he started groping your ass. At this point, you found yourself pushing him, hard. “Get the fuck off me, Jackson! I want to go home!”

He froze in place, and when he stood back up straight to look down at you, he looked pissed. “What the fuck, bitch? You come out drinking with me, cling to me all night with this sexy little black dress, and then get pissed from a little kissing?!” He looked really pissed off and you wondered why in the world would your best friend hook you up with this guy. “You’re just a fucking cunt tease. Find your own ride home.”

And with that, he stormed back into the throes of the bar. You were speechless.

‘Find your own ride’?! It was already past midnight! Public transit had already finished their routes for the night, your parents were out of town, and you couldn’t afford an Uber! There was only one other option and you really really didn’t want to have to resort to it.

You angrily stormed out of the bar and pulled out your cell phone. Here goes nothing…

The dial tone only rang once before you heard the receiver. “Hello?”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself before you responded. “It literally pains me to say it, but I need your help…”

________________________________________

You stepped into the sleek, white KIA sedan and buckled up, refusing to look at the driver. You could feel his stare on you, but you really didn’t want to have to explain this whole embarrassing experience to him.

“I don’t even get a hello? So cold.” The teasing lilt in his voice made your blood boil, but he was doing you a favor, so you felt the need to indulge him.

You turned your head and donned a sickly sweet smile. “Hello, Minho.” Your smile instantly dropped when you looked straight forward again, waiting for him to get the fuck on with it.

“Oh, what lovely company you are! You should call me more often to come pick you up at 1 o’clock in the morning!” He said as he began to drive away from the front of the bar.

He had a point. This was actually a really big favor he was doing for you and you were being a raging bitch about it. You grumbled in frustration that you were forced to be grateful to this man. It was silent for a moment before you forced yourself to say something. “I’m sorry, Minho…”

You watched as he side-eyed you. “For?” He seemed to be genuinely at a loss for what you were talking about.

You felt the stress from the situation cause your inhibitions to falter. “I’m sorry for being an ass to you instead of thanking you for your help. I’m sorry that I was naive and thought that I would be able to go on dates like a normal person so soon after ending my three-year relationship. And I’m sorry to myself for being an idiot and letting that douchebag and his friends treat me like a whore and then let him kiss and touch me even though I didn’t want it!” Your voice became more and more upset the more you rambled on.

Minho full-on looked at you now. “He touched you?! Without your consent?!” He was visibly pissed and you couldn’t fathom why. “Who the fuck is this guy? Tell me his name. Does he go to our college? I swear, I’ll go full Bruce Lee on his ass.”

“Calm down, Nancy Drew. It’s over and done with. I’m never going to see that twat-waffle ever again…” His death grip on the steering wheel slowly relaxed, as well as the tension that was rising in the air.

It was silent for a moment and then you suddenly heard chuckling coming from the man beside you. “What?” You were about positive you were about to get miffed at him again.

“Did you really just say ‘twat-waffle’?” He asked while laughing.

You wanted to respond with something more defensive, but you couldn’t help but find his amusement contagious. “What? That’s what he is!” You involuntarily giggled through your words. “Seriously though, if that’s what guys are like nowadays, I might as well say goodbye to my sex life because there’s no way I’m dating that kind of trash! Not to mention that most men are incapable of making a girl climax anyway so that makes it even harder to find someone to date!” Shit… maybe you had one drink too many…

“Hey! Not all guys are like that!” He looked at you in mock offense. “In my book, if a guy can’t get a girl to cum, he doesn’t deserve to either.”

Your giggles turned into full-bellied laughter. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with my brother’s best friend! Don’t tell me you’re going to join Tiffany in gossiping about my ex too!”

His smile vanished. “Why? That asshole doesn’t deserve a single breath of air let alone a whole conversation about him. He deserves to be left forgotten and the world will be better off because of it.” Minho had lost all humor at the mention of him and he spoke to you dead-serious. “You deserve to be with guys better than him. Better sex than him too from what it sounds like.”

You scoffed. “Yeah well, unfortunately, he has the only dick I’ve ever known. I don’t even have anything to compare him to, the bastard.”

He finally pulled up in front of your house and cut the engine. “You could compare him to me. Someone who actually knows what he’s doing.”

You started cracking up, but your laughter slowly faded when you realized he wasn’t laughing along with you. Wait, was he serious? Surely not… Your face morphed into one of perplexity. “You’re joking, right?”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” He raised an eyebrow and looked as if he was challenging you. “Personally, I think you need to explore your likes and dislikes with someone who’s willing to be your guinea pig. We already know each other well, meaning I like to believe you trust me more than a random hookup. So, the way I see it, it makes sense that I would be better fit to show you what it’s supposed to be like before you go chasing guys that would probably end up like that, quote-unquote, ‘twat-waffle’.”

He said while using his hands to motion his quotations, immediately opening the driver-side door and stepping out of the car before you even had time to process his words.

You had short-circuted and you were frozen in your seat as if you were glued to it. Hundreds of images, ones that you never thought in a thousand years would have crossed your mind, began flitting through your brain. You quickly came to your senses and ran after him as he began unlocking the door to your house.

“If this is just one of your stupid tricks, it’s not a very funny one, Minho. It’s actually really fucking shitty to joke about.” You declared, furious and defensive as the two of you stepped inside.

He huffed and turned around to face you in the entryway. He looked slightly annoyed. “Like I said, not a joke. If you don’t want to and you think I’m crazy for even offering, then you can go back to dating douchebags who fuck like jack-rabbits just to leave you unsatisfied and I can go back to enjoying the fun task of annoying the hell out of you. No harm done.” He smirked as he walked off with a shrug to head toward the kitchen.

What the actual fuck was he thinking? How did he even come to this conclusion? No, why did he even want to fuck you in the first place? “You’re right, I do think your crazy–” He turned back to you, now holding a fresh glass of water, with a complacent expression plastered on his face. “...but…” You took a second to look at him. Really look at him.

It had always pissed you off that he looked like a fucking Greek god with absolutely zero effort. He was cocky and proud and knew just what to say to get what he wanted. He was one of those people that, when you complimented him, would just agree with you and praise himself. He might have been the least humble person you had ever known.

Still… He wasn’t precisely rude about it, he just had an insane level of self-confidence. You supposed he deserved to be proud. His face was naturally beautiful, but you knew he at least put in some effort. Before your brother left, he and Minho would hit the gym constantly. And, by looking at the chiseled-looking man in front of you, he never stopped. From his teen years to manhood, age definitely treated him nicely.

Okay, if you were being honest with yourself, you may or may not have pictured what might be under all that linen. He is a gorgeous man, after all. And as you stood there staring each other down, your eyes drifted to his lips. It had been so long since you had been touched…

You found yourself licking your lips and he reciprocated the action.

Minho suddenly walked up to you until he was inches from your face, looking down at you with an intense expression. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You bit your lip as you searched his eyes, looking for any sign of this being a sick prank. There was none.

“But?” He questioned with a smirk and a raised brow, imploring you to continue your statement.

What is he doing to me? I must be going crazy… Shit shit shit…

“...but…” You sighed, dejected. “You have to promise not to tell anyone…” You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you said the words that seemed to escape on their own. You were even shocked with yourself for even entertaining the idea.

His face morphed into several different expressions simultaneously. Shock, hunger, eagerness, and anticipation colored his eyes, but he donned a collected appearance. “You’re not drunk, are you?” He asked tentatively.

You looked at him in the eyes again with a scowl. You might have a bit of a loosened tongue, but you knew for a fact that you were nowhere near drunk. “If I were drunk, I would have vomited on you for even asking.”

With your scathing remark, he returned to his normal irksome demeanor. He smirked and bent his knees a bit to be at eye level with you. “Is that so? Then maybe I should just go home? Since it is sooo beneath you to see what I can do… how good I can make you feel…” He whispered so close to your face that you could feel his breath against your lips.

He brushed past you and headed toward the front door. You cursed yourself for what you were about to do, but the discussion was already leaving you needy as hell. “Wait.” You said with irritation coloring your voice, refusing to turn around to face him. You heard his footsteps halt and you closed your eyes with a short, exasperated sigh. Still unable to face him, your voice was firm. “Prove to me what you can do and I might be willing to use you…”

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was wearing an infuriating, triumphant smile.

He said no words, but you heard quiet footsteps grow near. As you waited in anticipation, you felt a shiver run down your spine when he gently swept your hair back off the side of your neck. You felt his breath against your ear before you heard his words. “My pleasure, kitten…”

First, you felt a single chaste and moist kiss be placed at the base of your jaw and you let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding. Your fists were clenched so hard you could feel your nails digging into your skin.

Next, you felt the feather-light touch of his hands start to creep from your sides, down to grasp your hips. His now firm grasp pulled your ass back to be flush against him and he continued his slow torture of gliding his moist lips up and down your neck, your hairs standing on end with the ghosting breath against your heated skin.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” You hadn’t realized that your breathing had become heavier, but you heard his whispered words against your neck loud and clear. You didn’t trust your voice, so you just responded with an aggressive nod.

You felt his teeth as he smiled against you and his thumbs started rubbing circles into your hipbones. You were feeling the dizzying effects of his touch and smell and your mind was racing with thoughts of what he was planning on doing to you. As he started kissing your neck with a bit more purpose, a sudden thought popped into your head. “N-no marks…”

He hummed against your skin and you felt his tongue dip into your clavicle. “Of course…” His mouth started kissing, licking, sucking, and nipping just fervently enough not to leave marks and your breathing picked up as his hands started to wander. When he was sure that you weren’t going anywhere, his hands started gliding up your stomach to just below your breasts.

He teased you, acting as if he were about to make a move to cup them, but his hands started gliding back down. You found yourself desperately wanting him to touch you as his hands smoothed down the fronts of your thighs until his fingertips reached the skin at the hem of your dress. Your heart was thumping when he groped your thighs and his thumbs circled around just the inside of your thighs over your dress.

His ministrations were painfully slow, from his continuous devouring of your neck to the teasing of his hands. He denied you further touch again as he moved his hands, still playing at the edge of your dress, around to lightly grope your ass.

You were about to snap and you couldn’t take the teasing anymore. You spun around in his arms, obviously taking him off guard, and you didn’t allow yourself to think as you wrapped your arms around his neck and stole his lips with your own. Holy shit… you were kissing Minho…

At first, he seemed to be shocked by your boldness, but soon he began to kiss you back with equal amounts of fervor. His lips were soft and plump and his tongue danced along with yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You arched your body into him and he wrapped his arms around you, hands still tracing patterns down your lower back.

When he pulled you closer to him by your ass, you moaned into his mouth. You knew your panties were drenched and you were almost embarrassed at how quickly he managed to get you basically dripping for him. How could such a pestilent man affect you so intensely?

However, when he pushed you up against the wall and pressed himself against you, you could feel he was equally as affected. You hadn’t realized you were shaking in his hold until you moved your trembling hands up to tangle in his blonde locks. “Shit, Minho…”

You whimpered into his mouth and he shushed you. “Shhh, let me take care of you, kitten.” He sealed his lips to yours again and you felt his hands grope your ass once more before gliding one of them down to the hem of your dress again. Only this time, when he moved to the inside of your thigh, he dipped his hand underneath your dress to tease the edge of your panties.

“Oh fuck…” He chuckled at your falsetto, whispered words and he returned to attacking your neck as his fingers moved over to rub circles over your thin underwear.

Your head was thrown back in ecstasy as he pleasured you in slow motion. You had no clue why being this frustrated from his teasing would turn you on so much. You tried to grind down on his hand, but he still only lightly pleasured you.

“M-Min… please. Oh god!” He pinched your clit over the material and chuckled when you jumped.

“Tsk tsk tsk, so impatient.” He sighed against your neck before standing straight and looking down at you. “You can’t rush perfection, kitten. I’m going to take my time ruining you…” He pressed his lips against yours and you pulled him back by his hair.

“Well then take your time in my bedroom and not out here in the fucking hallway. I don’t want Boots watching.”

The smile that grew on his face as he laughed at your statement made your head feel fuzzy. Then, before you knew it, you were in the air, quickly wrapping your arms and legs around the man as he carried you to the bedroom, your dress hitching up to your hips at the action. He shut the door behind him with his foot and he gingerly sat down on the bed with you still stradding him. “Do you want me to strip or do you want to do it for me?” He raised a brow (those damned sexy eyebrows) in question and licked his lips with a lopsided grin as he pulled you as close as humanly possible.

Gosh, this man was infuriatingly sexy. “Aren’t you supposed to show me what I want, mister expert?” You quipped as you rested your arms on his shoulders.

He flashed his teeth and leaned back slightly, stripping only his t-shirt off before returning his hands to rub up and down your bare thighs. Your ogling eyes were beyond obvious and he gently grabbed one of your hands. He moved your hand to glide from his bulging pecs down to his chiseled abs.

He released you and allowed you to keep mapping his skin out with your hands. You wanted to lick him all over and trace every vein and crevice on his body. You found the courage to latch your own lips to his neck now and he hummed contentedly. You found yourself involuntarily grinding against the bulge in his sweatpants and he groaned.

His hands that had returned to your ass moved up to the back of your neck and one of them found the zipper on the back of your dress. You were shivering with excitement as you felt your back being exposed slowly to the chilled air and his hands felt like they were on fire as they caressed your bare skin.

However, instead of stripping you completely, his hands moved back to your thighs to creep up under your dress again, halting your movements. Your anticipation had stopped your mouth against him and you began panting into the crook of his neck.

When he reached your panty line, his fingers deftly dipped underneath your underwear this time and you moaned into his skin when his fingers dragged through your folds. “So wet already…” He whispered in your ear before grazing his teeth over the shell of it. He quickly flicked the pad of his thumb over your clit and you hugged him close with a gasp. “Can I taste you, sweet thing?”

You could almost cum from those words alone. Your ex refused to eat you out because he thought the idea of it was disgusting. This made you extremely self-conscious of having him, or anyone else for that matter, see you naked for too long. However, Minho had you wound up so tight that the coil in your stomach was bound to snap at any moment and you really wanted to take him up on his offer.

You pulled back and looked back into his eyes which were black with desire. “Y-you… you want to do that?” The disbelief in your voice was apparent and you moaned when he shallowly dipped his finger inside you.

“Fuck, more than anything…” He bit his lip and you held onto his shoulders as he pumped his finger in and out of you.

Sooner than you would have liked, he pulled his finger out and your breath shook when you saw him lick his finger clean.

“Shit…” He said with eyes closed in bliss. When he opened them again, they were filled with pure, carnal desire. In the blink of an eye, he had you on your back with your dress shucked off and thrown into the dark abyss that was your room.

It was dark, only the moon shining through your window illuminating the god-like man above you, so you weren’t too terribly self-conscious. But with the way Minho sat there on his knees between your legs, staring down at you, it had you squirming a bit. Shit, maybe I SHOULD have worn sexier lingerie.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous…” His hands roamed over your thighs and drifted around to undo the latch of your bra. It quickly joined your dress and you cried out when his mouth was like a magnet to your nipples. I guess he doesn’t care about the underwear…

You couldn’t control your hips as you rutted up into him, desperate for stimulation as your nipples were being abused. You had to admit, the man did wonders with his mouth, and the thought of that tongue between your legs had you whimpering.

Without removing his mouth from your nipples, you felt his fingers loop under your underwear. He finally relented his attack to free you of your underwear and your whole body went stiff as he lowered his face between your legs.

He must have noticed because he immediately halted and looked up at you. “Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?” You were pleasantly surprised that he was so concerned about your comfort.

“No no, it’s okay! It’s just… he never… I’ve never had anyone…” You were too embarrassed to say it out loud, but he seemed to understand.

“Man, he’s more of a piece of shit than I thought…” You gasped when he kissed your inner thigh. “Just lay back and enjoy kitten. I’ll show you how it’s done.” And without further ado, he moved to hover over your entrance.

You shivered and your eyes closed in anticipation when you felt him blow his hot breath over your sensitive folds. And when you finally felt him… OH… MY… GOD…

You were incredibly grateful your parents weren’t currently home because the moan you belted out was absolutely filthy. Your hands instantly flew to his hair and he had to hold on to your legs to keep you from crushing him between your thighs.

It was everything you wanted and more and you were feeling delirious from it. He had started by sliding his tongue through your folds from base to your clit and then he closed his puckered lips around the sensitive bead and sucked while circling his tongue around it. You were almost sobbing it felt so good. When you felt him insert a finger and find your G-spot, you went insane.

“HOLYFUCKINGSHITRIGHTTHERERIGHTTHEREOHMYGODYES… Please don’t stop! Fuck please… Fuckyesyesyes! Don’t stop! Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplea– AHH!” You unexpectedly came with furious power and you could feel yourself soaking his face violently.

In the moment, you felt like you were in heaven, but when he popped up from in between your legs with his stupid ass smirk and your release dripping from his chin, you were mortified.

“Oh my god, Minho, shit I’m so sorry! Shit. Fuck! …That’s so fucking embarrassing…” You buried your face in your hands, so mortified you wanted to cry, and he immediately grabbed your wrists, pulling them away to show his befuddled expression.

“Embarrassing? I thought that was the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do!” He looked at you like you were crazy, but your face was still bright red. Apparently, he could even notice that in the moonlight because he then guided one of your hands to the crotch of his sweatpants to feel his erection. You gasped at the heat you could feel all the way through the thick material. He leaned down and growled in your ear. “Does this feel like I thought it was embarrassing?”

You pressed your palm against him and he groaned in your ear. You were desperate to feel him inside you and you were suddenly bold enough to slowly dip your hand into his pants to palm him over his boxers.

“Fuck… do you have condoms.” He said as his head dropped to your shoulder.

“Y-yeah… top drawer.” You said motioning to your nightstand.

He hopped up and made quick work of removing his sweatpants and boxers. Holy shit. Either your exes dick was super small or Minho’s dick was super big because the difference was catastrophic. When he knelt between your legs again, condom in hand, he must have gauged your expression. “Everything okay?” You could hear the humor leaking through his restrained voice.

Your blood was indubitably boiling. It’s just not fucking fair to be so fucking perfect. Just more grounds for him to be cocky as hell. You cleared your throat and looked to the side. You had to say something because, honestly, you were genuinely uneasy about it. “It’s just…” You side-eyed his beautiful dick again. “...I haven’t… I don’t…” You sighed in frustration, not knowing how to say it.

He began patiently stroking it. “The suspense is killing me, kitten.” He smiled sarcastically and you stared daggers up at him.

You huffed and looked away again, eyes involuntarily snapping to his dick again for a half second. “Like… how do you know it will fit? I mean your’s is like way…” You peered up at his face which was trying desperately to not erupt in laughter. You sat up and shoved him. “I’m serious, asshole! That thing is terrifying!”

He had exploded and your push caused him to collapse on the bed in hysterics. He was holding his stomach in pain from how much he was laughing and you glared at him.

“Fine! If it’s such a joke to you, then whatever! Now, if you’ll excuse me–” You attempted to get off the bed, but in the blink of an eye, you were on your back again.

“Now now, let’s not throw a temper tantrum, little thing.” You shivered as he licked up the column of your neck. “Not only can I make it fit, I’ll make you beg for it.” He kissed your cheek before grinning down at you mischievously.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Prove it.” This one challenging statement had him instantly devouring your mouth as his hands eagerly roamed your body. You tasted a hint of yourself on his lips and you couldn’t explain why that turned you on so much. He had you heated up again in no time, and when you felt two of his fingers slowly enter you, you moaned with his lower lip between your teeth.

He started pumping his digits in and out of you with blinding speed and it was almost too much for you. Involuntary ‘ah, ah, ah’s fell out of your mouth when he moved his mouth to your nipples and your eyes clenched shut when you felt a third finger join the others. He slowed his pace so he wouldn’t hurt you, but when you felt him insert a fourth finger, he knew exactly what to do to distract you from any discomfort.

He dug up into your g-spot again while his thumb circled your clit and you were shouting out expletives again. You were whining and thrashing and he sat back on his knees just to watch you fall apart. You felt another orgasm wrack your entire being, but your body screamed more, more, more. “Minho, fuck! Minho! Minho!”

“What is it, kitten? What do you want?” He gave you an evil sneer as he moved in inches from your face. You glared at him before you basically punched him with your lips.

“Fuck me right this instant, goddamnit!” You shouted with your head thrown back when you released him, gasping for air.

He pulled back again and laughed. “As you wish, your highness…” Your whole body slumped into the bed when he removed his fingers and you were panting from the intensity of the situation.

“Wait–” You snatched the condom from him, leaving him with a dumbfounded expression. “I wanna do it…” You ripped open the package and threw the wrapper into the void, tentatively taking his unbelievable cock in your hand and looking up at his expression as you slowly stroked him.

He looked like he could cum any second from finally having some stimulation after holding back for so long. Before you knew it, you gave him a little kitten lick on the tip, collecting a load of precum, and watched as he visibly shivered. “Fuck, kitten…” He sounded almost like he was in pain. Watching his throat bob as he dry-swallowed gave you a longing you couldn’t explain.

You decided enough was enough and you rolled the condom down his length before laying back and spreading your legs.

He bit his lip and his black eyes were devouring you, but he stopped himself as he hovered above you. “Jokes aside, tell me if I’m hurting you at all, okay?”

You felt your heart thump violently and you sensed an uncomfortable swirling in your stomach. Why was he being so nice to you? You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Okay…” He smiled sweetly for once. “Now, for fuck’s sake, can you please just fuck me?”

He cackled at your impatient remark and you gasped when you felt the heat of his tip poke at your entrance and he dragged it up and down your folds. You dug your fingers into his shoulders as he hovered over you, watching you to assess your expressions, and he slowly sank into you. You furrowed your eyebrows in slight discomfort, but the delicious feeling of his hot tumescence dragging against your walls had you seeing stars.

You whimpered as he slowly entered and you were glad to see that he wasn’t completely unaffected. His brows were furrowed as well and when he went as far as your pussy would allow, he dropped his forehead to your shoulder, keeping himself still as he breathed heavily. “Shit…” He mumbled.

“Yeah… shit…” You agreed as your fingers tangled themselves in his sandy hair. How did you get in such a situation to have Lee Minho buried deep into your sopping cunt? You both lay there trying to control your breathing while he remained motionless inside you. After the discomfort lessened and your desire grew, you started to squirm. “Minho… move…”

He began slowly grinding into you for what seemed like ages. And when you desperately rutted up into him, he wasted no time in receiving the hidden message. Immediately, he slowly pulled back and you felt him start to languidly place wet kisses across your collarbone. You cried out in ecstasy when you felt him expertly rock back into you.

His pace slowly started to increase and his kisses became more hungry as time passed. You pulled him up by his hair and made him lock lips with you, hoping that would stifle your moans.

It didn’t.

You were whimpering into the kiss and his hips moved in a way that hit all the right places. He released your lips so he could grab one of your legs and hold it in the crook of his elbow. He then proceeded to snap his hips into you as if his life depended on it.

“FUCK! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” You cried out.

“Tell me how good it feels, kitten.” He said between breaths, eyes searching your own.

“Shit sofuckinggood– ah! Fuck! So good Minho!” You were just about sobbing now and you couldn’t find it in yourself to give two fucks about the undoubtedly cocksure smile that painted his face.

“Damn kitten, you’re so fucking tight. That asshole has no fucking clue what he lost. Fuck!” He sped up his thrusts and you were clawing at his chest, unable to handle the raw pleasure he was bringing you.

This was the most incredible feeling you had ever had and your reactions were like you weren’t even yourself anymore. One particular thrust had you screaming. “MINHOFUCKSHIT! DontstoppleaseMinhodontstop!!!”

“Fuck, I would never…” He huffed and he seemed close as well with the way his rhythm stuttered and his thrusts became more powerful.

You came while screaming his name and he came while burying his face in the crook of your neck with an animalistic growl. He rode both of you through your orgasms and then gingerly pulled out so he wouldn’t hurt you.

“Wait here.” Was all he said before he stood, tied the condom, and walked across the hall to the bathroom. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. He returned with a washcloth and began cleaning you. Okay, he has definitely proved himself.

When he finished, he collapsed next to you on the bed with heavy lids, turning his head to look at you. You returned his gaze and sighed. “I guess I have a new guinea pig…”

________________________________________

Your economics class had just ended and you and Tiffany decided to grab some coffee and hang out in the campus courtyard before she went to her next course. Thankfully, you were free for the rest of the afternoon and you were desperate to get home and take a hot bath, maybe watch some porn, and take a well-deserved nap. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure something was really wrong with him. Like, he could not hold a conversation for shit.”

You laughed at your friend’s ramblings about her latest breakup. “Wait, so this one was Jay, right? The one you went out with after my place last week?”

“Yyyep, that’s the one. Like I said before, the sex was amazing, but I need to date someone with an actual functioning brain.” She huffed and slurped down some of her drink that looked like a cupcake version of a coffee. “Like, how hard is it to find someone who’s able to fuck me like a whore but talk to me like an adult?! Those men are, like, nowhere to be found!” An image of Minho slamming his cock into you flitted through your mind, but you quickly snapped out of it.

You just continued to laugh because you knew Tiffany dropped guys left and right all the time for the smallest things. “There’s no such thing as a perfect man, Tiff. Might as well accept the truth.”

She grumbled and began to tie her hair up. You took a sip of your iced americano and arched your brow when your friend’s eyes lit up and she instantly took her hair back down and combed her fingers through it. She waved her hand in the air to someone behind you. “Minho! Over here!”

Oh no…

You whipped your head around and, sure enough, the man was walking toward you two with that same annoying-ass grin. After that night almost a week ago, you sent Minho home with an awkward (and slightly sexually charged) goodbye when you decided to take a shower. Since then, the only communication you had with him was a simple exchange of texts the following day:

Minho😈:

How r u feeling today?

Sore? 😏

Kitten😼:

Why?

R u wanting me to leave u a Yelp review?

*Lee Minho: too cocky for his own good*

Minho😈:

Oh? So that WASN’T the best sex of ur life?

Could have fooled me

I counted and… 🤔

Do u want to know how many times u screamed my name?

Kitten😼:

Ur fucking crazy

I have to go get ready

Later, psychopath 🖕

Minho😈:

Can’t wait 😉

…That had been the last form of communication you had had with the man and you definitely felt like you needed to have a serious conversation with him. But you were NOT prepared to see him NOW!

You quickly spun back around and scrambled to pick up your phone to make it seem like you were doing something else other than having an internal panic attack. “It’s about time I caught you on campus! I was starting to think you were avoiding me!” You couldn’t help but glance at your friend when she flirtatiously held his forearm when he reached the concrete ledge of the garden the two of you were sitting on in the courtyard.

“No, not at all. I’m actually glad I ran into you guys.” You refused to look up at him although you could feel his eyes burning holes into you.

“Oh is that so? Well then join us!” She tugged on his arms and you closed your eyes, praying that he wouldn’t accept.

“Sure, I’ve got some time.” Your eyes immediately snapped open and you watched as Tiffany pulled him down to sit on the other side of her. You scowled up at him when he leaned forward so he could talk to you around her. “Hey there, kitten. You seemed to be super interested in your home screen there.”

Tiffany giggled and you looked down to see that you hadn’t even unlocked your phone in your attempt to look busy. You could feel the blood rush to your ears but you just shoved your phone in your bag and fixed your vision on the bustling students roaming the courtyard. “So what if I am?” You tried to deflect the conversation. “Why are you here anyway? Where is your normal posse of goons? The ones I actually like?” And by goons, you mean the infamous Chris, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Felix. There were Seungmin and Jeongin as well, but they decided to pursue the same path as your brother, but you still missed them…

“Oh, they’re nearby. I told them to meet me out here when they were finished getting their coffee.” Of course they would happen to be here at the exact same time as you.

“Then why aren’t you with them? Did you get lost?” You said as you finally turned to look at him with a sarcastic leer.

Fuck him for looking so incredibly gorgeous for no goddamned reason.

“Nah. I saw you guys out here and I thought it would be fun to come annoy you.” He winked and your face twisted into a disbelieving scoff.

“Okaaaay, I think I’m going to head to class early, babe. I see you two bicker too much anyway.” Tiffany stood up and said to you with a giggle, clearly trying to escape the awkward tension. “Oh! And Minho…” She opened her backpack and ripped a scrap of paper off of her notebook, scribbling something on it and handing it to him. “We never really exchanged numbers even after knowing each other for so long! So I thought I’d finally give you mine.” She bit her glossed lips with a flirtatious smile that annoyed you for some unknown reason. “Call me any time.”

And with that, she strutted off to class. The man looked surprised but slipped the paper into his jeans pocket nonetheless. He smirked at you and you realized you had a disgusted look on your face. “Are you seriously wanting to bag my best friend now? You’re disgusting.”

Your gut churned as you looked away and you froze when you heard him scoot closer to you. “Why? You jealous, kitten?” You could hear the smile in his voice and you scoffed, head turning in the opposite direction from him before turning back.

When you looked at him, he was a lot closer than expected and your breath hitched for a moment before you regained your composure. “And what, exactly, would I have to be jealous of?” You tried to sound firm, but you could feel a hitch in your breath in between words.

You could have imagined it, but you watched as his smile faltered just slightly before returning to its teasing appearance. “I dunno, you tell me. Afraid of someone playing with your pet?”

You had to turn away because looking at him was just too intense. You scowled at the concrete, an uncomfortable retching feeling building in your stomach from the topic. “You can fuck whoever you want, Minho. It’s not like I actually own you…” You puffed out a half chuckle at the idea. You looked at him again and his smile, although still stretched across his face, was lacking in vibrance and color. “I’m just your friend’s naive little sibling that happens to have a pussy. You said it yourself, you offered yourself up to just be a guinea pig because I’m inexperienced. Nothing more.”

Why did it make you slightly queasy to say that? It was the truth.

Now his smile had vanished entirely. “Hey now, that’s not true and you kno–”

“Baby girl!!!” Minho was interrupted by a man running at you full sprint behind Minho and a smile automatically stretched across your face. You immediately stood up and opened your arms as he crashed into you with a crushing hug, picking you up and spinning you around with glee as the two of you giggled.

“Oh my god, Jisungie! It’s been so fucking long since I’ve seen you!” You giggled in his arms. “I know my brother isn’t home these days, but, sheesh man, you know you can still call or text, right?”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, girly.” He made a pouty face as he set you back on your feet and held you by your shoulders. “But I figured Min had been keeping you up to date.” He stated as said man stood up next to you with a grumble.

Jisung was a part of your brother’s group of friends even though he was your own age. However, Minho and Jisung hit it off the most and they undoubtedly had the closest bond within the friend group. This being said, the two ended up being roommates once Jisung graduated high school, and, unless Minho was loitering at your house, the two were attached at the hip.

Unlike Minho, you and Jisung always got along swimmingly. Actually, you loved everyone in your brother’s group except for Minho, which is why it was kind of a comical irony that you and Minho had ended up in your current situation. They all also knew your particular distaste for Minho…

As if reading your mind, the rest of the group soon followed Jisung as you could see them walking towards the three of you. Felix’s arrival was much like Jisung’s as he wrapped you in a huge hug and kissed you on the cheek.

“Where the hell have you been, princess??” Changbin said as he came and ruffled your hair with the annoying title most of them had taken to calling you.

“Buried in my studies, that’s where. As soon as I started here, I instantly regretted cramming most of my credits into freshman year.” You chuckled.

All three of the boys that were also in their freshman year, Jisung, Felix, and Hyunjin, groaned in agreement. “Tell me about it! I even signed up for the bare minimum and I feel like my life is crumbling. I don’t know how you do it!” Hyunjin whined.

“But it’ll be worth it. I did the same in my freshman year and, now that I’m in my senior year, I don’t feel like I’m killing myself just to graduate with my bachelor's.” Chris said from where he had his arm flung over Minho’s shoulder as the younger man wore an artificial disgusted guise from the action.

“You really do need to take it easy sometimes though, love. You’ll burn yourself out.” Felix said with a concerned smile as he played with your hair. Jisung had wrapped his arms around your waist from the other side of you and rested his head on your shoulder and you giggled at the two boys’ affection.

“I know, I know. I just want to make sure I can make it into Veterinary school after graduation.”

“Which reminds me. WE were having a discussion so will you guys–”

“You two?! Talking?! Without tearing each other apart?!” Hyunjin dramatically interrupted Minho as the group looked back and forth between you and him with befuddlement in their eyes.

“Yes.” Minho said through clenched teeth with a scowl at the man who instantly recoiled. The feisty older blonde quickly pried Jisung off of you and eyed the younger’s amused expression. “Now kindly fuck off, all of you vultures.” Minho continued as he grabbed your backpack from the ledge and wrapped his warm fingers around your wrist and briskly dragged you away.

“Bye, princess! I’ll text you and we can all meet up sometime!” Chris bellowed at your retreating form.

“Sounds good!” You waved at the five smiling men with your free hand and they all waved back.

Minho led you out of the courtyard and through a couple of buildings, finally leading you to a semi-demolished parking garage that was notorious for being unoccupied. When the two of you walked in, you saw his car parked in probably the only spot that wasn’t in ruins.

“Have you gone completely brain-dead? Why are you parked in this dilapidated lot? You know they have much closer parking with way less risk of being squashed by rubble?”

He just shrugged as he opened the passenger door for you to get in and simply replied. “Free parking. And I don’t mind walking.”

When he finally hopped in the driver’s seat and started driving you eyed him. “Where the fuck do you think you’re taking me?”

“You don’t have class, right? I thought I’d take you to mine. Make you some dinner as thanks.”

To his? As in his apartment?! “Thanks for what? For letting you fuck me? I’m pretty sure there was a mutual benefit there, Min.”

He puffed out a half-chuckle. “No, you pervert. It’s a thanks for trusting and listening to me the other night by giving me a call to pick you up when you needed me.”

For some reason, you felt your cheeks heat up and you scoffed. “Trust might be an overstatement, but that was just because I didn’t have any other choice.” He shot you a crooked grin at your snide comment.

“Well then, I suppose this is me thanking you for using me for yet another reason.” He winked at you and you turned your head to look out your window with a scowl and crossed arms when you felt your face turn bright red.

When you entered his apartment, it wasn’t quite what you imagined. For some reason, you expected to see posters of half-naked women on the walls and trash everywhere. But, as far as you could see, the place was actually clean and decorated very nicely with spotless surfaces and the only thing that you could see that you had expected were the various game consoles by the TV. The typical fuckboy energy was noticeably absent.

There were two separate rooms on the left side of the large living room and a sizable bathroom close to the entryway. The kitchen was on the far wall with some pretty flowing curtains hanging from the windows surrounding it. The living area was directly left of the entryway in front of the kitchen with a large sectional couch and a cozy armchair.

His place was… really nice.

As he shut the door behind him and took off his shoes next to your own, he assessed your face as you looked around. “What do you think?” He almost sounded… hopeful?

You contemplated your response. “It’s… a lot more mature than I had expected…” You couldn’t look at his face as you verbalized the semi-compliment, instead running your fingers over the soft leather of the couch and taking in the concentrated scent of pure Minho.

Why was that so appealing to you?

He chuckled behind you and you whipped around when you heard he was much closer than you had anticipated. “Well… thanks? I guess?” You cursed yourself when your eyes flitted down to his plump lips. And, judging by the shit-eating smile on his face, he knew.

However, instead of acting on it, he just walked around you into his open-floor-planned kitchen. “What do you want to eat, kitten? Canned tuna? Maybe with some warm milk?” He teased.

“Har, har. You’re a comedic genius, asshole.” He just cackled at his own lame excuse for a joke. “I dunno, what do you have?”

He pressed his palms on the countertop of the island and leaned forward, your eyes lingering a bit too long on the prominent veins of his forearms. “I was thinking kimchi fried rice, does that sound good?”

You basically moaned. “Oh god, my favorite.”

He flashed you a crooked smile. “I know.” And with that he simply turned around and got to work, leaving you caught off guard and a tiny bit flustered.

________________________________________

“That was probably the best kimchi fried rice I’ve had in my entire life.” You groaned from where you sat at the island counter, holding your stomach from how much you ate. “I feel like I’m about to explode, though.”

He briefly lifted a brow at you over his shoulder from the kitchen sink where he quickly washed the dishes. “Was that a compliment I just heard?”

You flipped him off and he guffawed. “Don’t flatter yourself, it was merely an observation.”

He wiped his hands off and moved to stand on the other side of the island from you. “Do you want some wine?”

You glanced at your phone for the time and saw it was already almost six. You thought for a moment and assessed the cute, pleading pout he donned. You rolled your eyes. “Fine, it’d better not be shitty box wine though.” You eyed him speculatively.

He looked disgusted. “Gross. I’m not a Neanderthal, kitten.” He pulled out two wine glasses and sat them on the counter. “Red or white?”

You just stood and walked over to the living room to judge the comfort of his couch. “Don’t care, surprise me.”

As you plopped down, you could instantly feel yourself being absorbed by the plush cushions and you groaned. You closed your eyes for one moment and listened to the pouring of the wine and the clinking of the glasses before he stood in front of you, setting the bottle on the coffee table and handing you a rich red wine. You claimed the glass, swirled it a bit, and sniffed before taking a sip.

The bitterness was perfectly complemented by the sweet and fruity undertone, an obvious decadent fermentation. This surely had to be an expensive red. “Holy shit, Min. What is this, Merlot? Pinot Noir?” You tried to look at the bottle from where the couch was swallowing you, but the label was facing away from you.

“Cabernet actually. You like it?” He inquired as he sipped his own serving.

“It’s probably the best red I’ve ever had.” You savored another large swig.

He narrowed his eyes with a mischievous smile. “The best food and the best booze? I’d say I’m a pretty good host.”

There he goes with the self-appreciation again. You rolled your eyes and continued to drink enthusiastically. “I would hardly consider this booze, Meanhoe. But don’t worry, you still have time to screw it up somehow.” A sudden thought crossed your mind. “By the way, where’s Ji? He should’ve been here by now.”

He just chuckled and refilled your empty glass, which you accepted eagerly. “I told him to stay at Chan and Changbin’s place tonight.”

You arched a brow at him. “You told him to? And why is that?” You were inexplicably anxious as you guzzled your drink a bit. Shit, you were going to develop an alcohol dependency from being around this man.

A grin slowly grew on his face once he took a sip and sat his glass down. “I told him that I was having a pretty girl over tonight.” He was slightly leaning toward you, now biting his lip to tame his smile.

You were drinking more out of bashfulness now. You knew your face was flushed, but you tried to maintain your composure all the same. “How presumptuous of you. Is that the only reason you invited me over? Am I just here so you can bag me and send me on my way?” Your stomach churned painfully at the thought. It’s your fault anyway by agreeing to this mess.

His face fell and his eyes widened in panic. “What? N-no, I–”

“Because if that’s the case, I think I should just leave now.” You chugged the rest of your glass and set it down on the coffee table.

He gently kept you seated by placing a hand on your bicep. You could feel his heat searing through your shirt. “Kitten, no! Listen! I’m sorry I said that. I really just wanted to make you dinner.” You eyed him hesitantly. “We haven’t talked much since that night and I mostly just wanted to get the chance to talk to you alone…”

In your rush to get up, you hadn’t realized how close the two of your bodies had become. You were lost in his pleading eyes as you mumbled. “Then talk…” You tried to sound begrudged, but your voice came off more wistful than you had intended.

His thumb stroked your bicep from where he continued to hold onto it and he sighed. “I know that the other night just kind of happened out of nowhere.” You bit your lip and blushed, memories of the night flooding your vision and making his grip on you seem more intense than it actually was. He sighed and released your arm, allowing your vision to clear a bit. “I wanted to apologize for what happened… I know you’ve always hated me and I didn’t mean to take advanta–”

“What? I don’t hate you.” You blinked at him, bewildered. Yeah, you were always annoyed by him and were irritated by his constant overwhelming presence and teasing. But you wouldn’t say you hated the man.

He looked at you perplexed. “But I thought–”

You cut him off again by placing a delicate hand on his thigh and raising a brow. “Minho, just because I have a general distaste for your antics doesn’t mean I hate you.” He gazed into your weary eyes for a moment and then looked down at where your hand was resting on his bare thigh where his shorts had risen from sitting down.

You were suddenly all too aware of how you had involuntarily leaned toward him, and you pulled your hand back as if you had just placed it on hot coals. You cleared your throat and sat straight again. “So… you don’t hate me?” His wry grin made your blood boil. Damn girl! When did you become so thirsty?

You scoffed and tried desperately to look anywhere but at him. “Don’t get a big head Minho, you still are the most infuriating person I have ever met.” You pushed his shoulder and he cackled. Your lame attempt to hold back a smile was futile as you leaned back and let the couch envelop you once more. You lifted your chin to indicate the wine bottle on the table. “Do you have any more?”

________________________________________

You had tears in your eyes as you cackled hysterically when Minho was telling you of the time he and Jisung had been forced to make out at one of their parties during a truth or dare game. He explained that the rest of the group was even more bashful than they were when it was all said and done.

“When we dared your brother and Felix to do the same, even though Felix didn’t mind, your brother had to drink the nastiest assortment of cocktails just to get out of doing it. We teased him for months and Felix, to this day, threatens him with smooches.”

You had fallen over on his shoulder and clutched your stomach as it ached from the laughter. He couldn’t control his own chuckle as he sat down his half-empty wine glass next to yours and the two bone-dry wine bottles on the table. Needless to say, you were pretty tipsy.

“What do you mean by make out though? Are we talking just swapping a bit of spit? Or were you full-on licking each other’s tonsils?” You felt a lightbulb blink on in your head and you shot to sit up. “Ooh ooh! Show me how you kissed him!” You puckered your lips and leaned toward him, still unable to contain your giggles. He looked startled momentarily and he leaned back to look between your eyes and awaiting lips before you saw the makings of a smile grow on him.

“Oh, it would be my pleasure, kitten.” You watched the signature evil smirk on his lips and your breath hitched when his palm cupped your rosy cheek. Like a tiger, he pounced on you, making you lightheaded as he immediately intruded your mouth with his tongue.

He was relentless and you were struggling to keep up with his expert tongue as it roamed your mouth and he bit at your lips. His free hand wrapped itself around your waist and held you close as his lips pressed against you aggressively.

When he finally pulled back his hands and released your lips, you found yourself subconsciously reaching for him again. He looked almost as caught off guard with the kiss as you were. Your eyes were glazed over in a wild drunkenness on Minho that affected you way more than the wine had. His face abruptly turned serious when your hands wrapped around his shoulders and tangled in his hair to prevent him from retreating.

He searched your eyes and you found yourself feeling hot all over when he wiped away a stray tear that had escaped from your laughter just moments before the tension rose in the air. Before you knew it, you were surging forward and capturing his lips with yours once again.

He hummed in a surprised tone and returned his hands to your waist as you devoured him. Before long, you swung a leg over to straddle him and pulled yourself flush to him when the ache between your thighs became too strong.

He smiled against your lips but pushed you back by your shoulders. You glowered at him with a huff as he chuckled at your cute pout. “Kitten, I told you this isn’t why I brought you here. Not to mention the fact that we’ve been drinking.”

Your arms that were still wrapped around him still tried to pull him infinitesimally closer and you basically growled like a cock-hungry animal in heat when he resisted. “I get that you’re trying to be polite, Minho, but I legitimately want the opposite of that right now.” His push wavered and you got close enough to whisper against his lips. “I want you to be disrespectful, Minho. I want you to be absolutely filthy.”

You briefly passed your tongue over his pouty upper lip and you could tell that his resolve was close to ruin. His closed eyes and the low rumble in his throat proved as much.

When he still refused to falter, you glared at him with a fire that could burn through his soul. Time to bring down the hammer. “Please, Minho. You aren’t likely to have me so shamelessly groveling for dick again.” You challenged and his eyes opened with a new darkness to them.

You slightly heard him curse under his breath and you were abruptly flipped over onto your back with the man between your legs, your hair splayed out against the velvety soft leather of the couch. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t requested me to be so rude to you, kitten.” He growled as he lewdly surveyed your body with his hands.

“Try me.” You dared him once again, already breathless.

He licked his lips and bit at his lower one as his eyes skimmed the bare skin from your ankles to your shorts. His hands roved over your legs slowly and the ache became even more prominent. You huffed in frustration.

“Minho! Get on with it!”

He looked down at you with an expression you had never seen before and you shivered when he grabbed your arms with blinding force and pinned them above your head. He whispered against your lips with malice. “You want me to be disrespectful?” You pondered, but could only dumbly nod your head as a certain vibration racked your body, the sensation making you an airhead fuckdummy. “Then shut the fuck up, kitten. Or you won’t get anything tonight.”

You were speechless. You had no clue how frightening Minho was when he wanted to be and you knew that you had probably drenched your panties all the way to your shorts with how aroused you were getting. His grip on your wrists had you arching up into him and his bulge against your crotch had you panting.

He sneered and abruptly smoothed his tongue up the column of your neck all the way until he sucked your ear lobe into his mouth and nibbled on it. You whimpered and spread your legs further to urge him to press closer.

To your dismay, he pulled his pelvis away from yours as if he knew exactly how much it would drive you mad. You groaned in frustration and glared up at the man smirking triumphantly above you when he wouldn’t release his grip on your wrists. “Fucking Lee Minho! You’d better do something soon or I’m just going to go home and take care of it myself!”

He moved a hand but refused to release yours as he held both of your wrists with the strength of the one that continued to pin your arms. “Is that so?” With his freed hand, he slowly traveled the back of his index finger in a feather-light touch down the center of your forehead. “Because I don’t think…” His finger slowly cascaded down the arch of your nose and over the crest of your lips to continue its way down your neck, cleavage, and abdomen. “...that you can touch yourself the way I can…” Well, shit.

His eyes that had been following the trajectory of his finger suddenly snapped back up to your face as he traveled his way down to the crotch of your shorts, sneaking up inside them from the leg hole and breaching your panties to just barely graze your throbbing entrance. Your brows furrowed and your voicebox had a mind of its own when it ripped out a desperate whine and a small “please”.

His eyes were dripping with lust and you watched as his tongue swiped over his delicious plump lips. “Fuck, that word sounds so pretty coming from your mouth… Say it again for me, beautiful?”

The fog of red mist that blurred your vision and rationality slightly died down enough for you to remember to act annoyed with him. You just glared up at his dark irises in defiance.

He smiled wickedly, knowing precisely what you were playing at. “Wanting to be a brat, are we?” His fingers, which were still playing with the edge of the crotch of your panties, retreated from your shorts entirely and you could have sworn you felt a frustrated scream rise in your throat.

“Wait!” You whined and his hand paused on your inner thigh. You closed your eyes and resigned yourself to becoming a vulnerable bitch-baby tonight, too heated for any alternative. When you opened your eyes, you made sure they looked like hot embers that would burn through his self-restraint and, if the defenseless expression on his face had anything to say about it, you had succeeded. And to hopefully drive your efforts home, you sensually whispered. “Minho… Please.”

The last word came out in a broken whine and you inwardly congratulated yourself when you heard his breath hitch just the tiniest bit.

You weren’t quite sure of the chain of events, but in the blink of an eye, you were thrown over his shoulder and carded away to somewhere else in the apartment. He moved so fast that before you could say anything, you were being thrown down onto a plush mattress and had hands fumbling with the button of your shorts.

When you lifted your hips so he could yank off all obstacles between him and your bare body, you sat up to quickly undo his own jeans. It felt like you couldn’t get them off fast enough, hands shaking with anticipation. When both of you were finally stripped bare, he had you pinned down again with one of his hands and his other hand was already exploring your wet folds.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He groaned against your lips and you could only whimper in response as he slid two fingers inside you and immediately curled them to find your sweet spot again. “You want me to be disrespectful?” He questioned with a smile that pressed up against your panting mouth. When you nodded, he released your hands and crawled in between your legs. “Then I’m not stopping until you beg for my cock.”

The fingers inside you immediately got to work and he sucked on your clit with a force that blinded you. “HOLY FFF–” You couldn’t even finish the word as it got stuck in your throat from the overwhelming velocity he was working with to bring you to your first orgasm. Your hand involuntarily slapping and gripping the sheets with force.

Your jaw was slack and your whole body tense with all of the sensations you felt all at once. Your fingers slowly tangled in his soft blonde hair and you couldn’t even breathe when you reached your starry peak. When your orgasm settled and you finally exhaled with a loud, drawn-out grunt, you realized he wasn’t stopping nor slowing down. If anything, he seemed to be working even harder, flicking your pearl with his tongue even firmer, and thrusting his fingers even faster.

Now, instead of being unable to breathe, you were almost hyperventilating with the oversensitivity of it all. You could definitely finish your words now as you clutched the sheets with white knuckles. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck Minho! Minho! OhgodMinho!” His name was a mantra on your tongue and you could almost see the smirk in his dark eyes as he looked up at you.

You were in too much bliss to care at the moment and after your next orgasm crashed over you, you came down from it with a sob. When he still refused to relent, you were in a purgatory of whether it felt like the greatest pleasure you had ever felt or the most painful oversensitivity you could think of.

However, after those first and second orgasms, the next ones seemed to have a snowball effect. The next one happened even sooner after the other and the next one was even faster than the last. This continued until your whole body was in a constant state of tremors. You could barely even recognize your own voice through your sobs as you begged. “P-p-please M-Min–” You exclaimed before a gasp of much-needed air. “Please! I-I need y-you!!”

He smiled up at you and relented, crawling back up to hover over you as he pressed the fingers that were covered in your juices to your awaiting lips. You sucked them in immediately, eyes hooded as you watched his lustful gaze. You suddenly felt him pulling your jaw down with those fingers to open your mouth for him and, once you had opened all the way with his fingers on your tongue, He stuck his own tongue as far into your mouth as he could possibly reach and he licked up the roof of your mouth.

The feeling of the wet muscle against your gums made you want to plead for him to do more god-awful things to you.

You whimpered as your free hand floated between the two of you to grasp his leaking cock. His mouth froze on yours and you felt the vibrations from his moan reviberate into your own mouth. As he released your jaw and moved away from your mouth, you began giving him lazy pumps to coax him to do more. “I need you, Minho. Please…” He froze in place, as if trying to regain his composure, but he failed miserably.

He seemed to be just as desperate as you because he was off you and pulling out a condom from his bedside drawer in a flash of dewy beauty. Your eyes hazily roved over his body as he tore open the condom. You couldn’t deny it, he was most undoubtedly the most beautiful creature you had ever laid eyes on and it pissed you off to admit it.

When he had finally rolled the rubber over his length, you were startled when he roughly flipped you over on your stomach and lifted your hips in the air, slowly sinking into you as the stretch caused both of you to moan in tandem. He had one of his hands digging his fingers into your waist and the other tangling into the hair at your nape, both of them using you as leverage to begin forcefully thrusting inside you with a vengeance.

Your face, which was firmly pressed into the silky smooth sheets, was scrunched up in pleasure and oversensitivity that was arguably even more delectable than before. You had no clue why it felt so good to be manhandled, but you soon realized that this was yet another one of the unknown pleasures that Minho had introduced you to. You were bound and determined to discover even more with him.

You felt like you were melting into the earth as he pounded into you and you felt yet another overpowering pressure threaten to explode in your core. Every thrust pushed out a tiny yelp from your lips and you felt Minho move both of his hands to your breasts and bend down next to your ear. “You have one more for me, kitten. I know you do.” With that, he tweaked your nipples and you cried out loud enough you were sure you shook the foundations of the building. “That’s it, good girl. Cum for me.”

You were shaking profusely through your orgasm and he pumped into you with blinding force until he, too, came unraveled from the pleasure he found in you.

The air was mingled with your combined panting and the steam rising from yours and his skin. When you felt him pull out of you, it was all you could do to not pass out then and there. Your head was in a haze and you just laid there, limbs limp, for an unspecified amount of time. You could vaguely hear some shuffling from somewhere inside his apartment. Some running water, a door opening, and closing, then your field of vision was obstructed by the man standing in front of you in just a pair of boxer shorts.

Holy shit, he’s so goddamned gorgeous.

He set down a glass of water on the nightstand and started wiping your spunk and sweat off of you with a damp cloth. “M-Min, I can–”

“Shhh.” He quieted you, but you were adamant. He had made it painfully clear that none of this was serious, so there was no point in staying longer.

You reluctantly lifted yourself off of the bed and slunk away from his unidentifiable expression as he stood watching you, towel in hand. “I’m going to have to leave anyway so I’ll just save you the trouble. I’ll shower at home.” You really didn’t want to have to make the trip back to your place, but when you looked at the time, it was already almost time for the last nearby transit to stop for the night. “Oh shit, I have to go, I’ll miss the bus!”

You rushed to collect your clothes scattered about the room and you watched out of the corner of your eye as the man aggressively threw the towel in his laundry bin. “If you are gonna leave, at least let me take you home.”

You grimaced at the sharpness of his voice. “What’s the big deal?” To the naked eye, he seemed blasé, but you could tell he was secretly aggravated by the way he pursed his lips and crossed his arms.

He swiftly ran his hand through his hair, still mussed from your eager fingers earlier. It seemed as if he was deep in thought, looking at nothing off to the side until he neutralized his face, looking back at you. “Nothing at all.” He shrugged, feigning indifference. “I would just rather you not head back home so late by yourself.”

You sighed in defeat, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. “Fine.” You grumbled and turned to head towards the front door. “Let’s go.”

“Right now?” He asked as he hobbled after you while trying to put on his pants at the same time.

“Yes, Minho. Right now. I’ve sobered up and it’s making me super tired and I have class early in the morning.” Again, he was silent as he threw on the rest of his clothes and led you out of his apartment.

The car was eerily silent the entire way back to your house and when you got out of the car, his only farewell was a solemn “G’night.” Before slowly driving away.

Much to your dismay, the whole encounter made the night a sleepless one and you knew the next day would be a complete nightmare.

________________________________________

Your head drooped as you struggled to keep your eyes open in the back of class. Several times throughout the day, you had found yourself nodding off in every single one of your lectures. Not to mention the weather was absolutely horrid with the muggy April rain and thunder that threatened to lull you to sleep every other minute. By the end of your last class, you were finally confronted about it.

When you had eventually fallen completely asleep on your desk, you had awoken to a loud thud of a foot hitting the leg of your desk. Your head whipped up at the speed of light and saw your professor standing over you with an arched brow and a disapproving frown. “Really? Now? I would have expected this of some of the other students, but you?”

She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. You quickly stood up and collected your things. “Oh my god, professor I’m SO sorry! I had a hard time sleeping last night and–”

“I don’t care about the reason, just don’t let it happen again.” And with that, she left you without another word, bulldozing over the words that were lingering on your lips.

You marched out of the classroom, unbelievably irritable and aggravated. It’s not your fault you were up all night! Your mind refused to let you sleep! If anyone is to blame, it’s Lee fucking Minho. Why did he have to act like such a pouty prick last night? Just because you saved him the effort of cleaning you even though you were going to immediately shower when you arrived back home?!

You were silently fuming as you made your way through the building and, on your way to the exit, the man of the goddamned hour showed up. Speak of the fucking devil! He was next to an open classroom door that students were filing out of while he leaned up against the wall talking to a classmate.

She was a small, cute, petite blonde and you don’t know why, but just the sight of the duo disgusted you. She giggled and placed a delicate hand on his bicep and you wanted to barf. You knew he was free to see and talk to whoever, but how was it fair that he was wide awake and acting as if he didn’t just get laid the night before while you were utterly miserable?

You had to walk right by him to get out of the building and you were feeling pretty petty anyway, so you used the students passing nearby to your advantage as you fell into step with them. When you neared the couple, his back was to you and you ‘accidentally’, and rather aggressively, shouldered past him and continued on your merry fucking way.

You hadn’t even made it more than a few meters before you heard your name being called and the pattering of fast-paced footsteps nearing you. You decided to just continue walking as if you didn’t hear him and you finally felt the man grab your arm and swing you around to face him. A scowl was already reared and ready to go on your face when he turned you around and it just deepened when you saw his stupid beautiful face with his stupid cocked eyebrow.

“To what do I owe this delightful company you bring on such a gloomy day?” What a complete shift from his icy attitude last night… You couldn’t disguise the absolute disgust that lingered on your face as the petite blonde who Minho had been talking to just moments before decided to slide her slim fingers down Minho’s strong forearm as she passed.

“See you tomorrow night, Minho.” She purred in a sultry tone and a lustful gaze as she walked away backward for a few steps before finally turning and strutting down the hall.

You turned back to Minho with the nastiest grimace you could muster and he looked at you even more smug than before. “Better watch out, kitten. Your jealousy is showing.” He chuckled as he whispered the words close in your ear. The entirety of your hair follicles stood on end and you willed away your goosebumps as you stepped away from him.

“Stop spewing your shit. What do you want with me, Min?” Your question was clipped and you didn’t wait for a response before you started walking towards the exit once again.

He quickly caught up to you and walked in front of you backward, facing you as if it were the easiest thing in the world to match your pace despite the direction he walked. His grin was still dopey and stupidly attractive. “Someone’s got her panties in a twist! Didn’t like my friend back there?” You could see the taunting in his eyes and you just wanted to wipe that stupid smirk from his face.

“I couldn’t care less about your friend.” You failed to hold back the venom from your voice as you spoke and his smile grew. You huffed. “Unlike you, I don’t spend all my free time fucking my friends.” Again, the words were dripping with malice.

His smile faltered. “And who ever said I was fucking around?” His voice had become slightly agitated and you tried to appear unfazed by it.

You shrugged and looked straightforward, just to realize the two of you had come to a complete stop in the abandoned hallway. “You seem to take that sort of stuff pretty lightly, considering all things, and it doesn’t take a genius to see the effect you have on people.” You didn’t even have the chance to gauge his reaction before you were pulled to the side by your forearm.

The next thing you knew, You were being pushed against the door of a small, dark room off to the side. Is this a fucking janitorial closet?

“For your information–” You couldn’t see his face too clearly, but his voice almost sounded like a snarl. Threatening even. “I don’t take that shit lightly. I barely even know that girl outside my classroom.”

“But she said–”

“For christ’s sake, there’s a party tomorrow night! It’s Chris’ last one before he graduates and he wanted me to be there.”

You blanched. “Oh…” You kind of felt hurt that you didn’t know about it, but these were technicallty your brother’s friends. They had no obligation to babysit his little sister while he was away.

You were ever grateful to the pitch darkness of the room so Minho wouldn’t see the sheer disappointment on your face, but his eyes must have adjusted to the light because you suddenly felt the feathering of his fingertips over your cheek. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, kitten.”

You willed back the angry tears and slapped his hand away. “There’s no misunderstanding, Min. We’re fuck buddies. It’s none of my business what you do and don’t do with other people.” It was silent for a beat before you continued. “And I don’t need to know what our–” You huffed and pursed your lips, whipping your head to the side so you didn’t have to face him. “...what your friends are up to.”

He was quick to place his hands on your arms and step closer. “Kitten! They’re your friends too–!”

You wanted to punch something and you cut him off with a raised voice. “And speaking of late night shenanigans–!” You pressed your finger to his chest. “You.” Your eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness and you watched as he backed up with wide, befuddled eyes from your aggressive shift in demeanor. “I was up all fucking night because you decided to keep me all wound up from everything that happened last night!”

You could faintly see him trying to hold back an amused smile and stifle a laugh. You almost growled at him as you grabbed his retreating form by the shoulders and turned him around so you were the one pressing him against the door now. “It’s not fucking funny! I got chewed out by my professor because I fell asleep in class!”

He made no attempt to hide his amused smirk and he laughed at your pissed scowl. He leaned down to face level with you and narrowed his smug eyes. “Oh? Did I leave you wanting more?” You scoffed in disbelief at his audacity. “Because I would have happily taken care of it for you if you had stayed with me.”

You were burning from the inside out and you couldn’t tell if it was from the rage or the tension that permeated the small room.

He straightened back up and sighed. “You only have yourself to blame, kitten.” He tried to free himself from your grasp, but you refused to release him. Instead, your body moved on its own as you crashed your lips to his.

You could feel the bewildered tension in his body only for a millisecond before he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against him, his tongue eagerly falling in sync with your own. You pulled back only slightly to hiss against his lips. “Fuck that. This is your fault and you’re going to fix it.”

With that, you began quickly unclasping his belt and popping the button open on his jeans. “Woah! Kitten, we’re at school!” Although his words said otherwise, his actions made no move to stop you.

“Exactly. And you’re the one who felt the need to hide us away in this godforsaken closet, so we’re going to make good use of it.” You refused to look him in the eye as you sank down to your knees and mouthed at his slowly hardening dick over his boxer briefs.

The shudder of his breath was music to your ears and you hummed against him when he smoothed his hands over the top of your head. “Fuck, kitten…” He groaned. “I thought I was supposed to take care of you.” You felt the soft thud of his head leaning back against the door.

You pulled your mouth away so you could free his erection from its breaches. “Yeah, and I would rather be ‘taken care of’ with a hard dick rather than one so flaccid you’d think you just walked in on your naked grandma.” You eagerly sucked down his length and the weight of his cock on your tongue made you press your thighs together.

His voice was strained as he grunted his approval. “Trust me, kitten. You’re able to make me hard as a rock in no time at all, even without needing to do all this.” With that, he grabbed your hair and pulled your mouth off him. He bent down and angled your head up to look straight at him. “Now get up off that disgusting floor and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll feel it through next week.” The huskiness of his voice had you swimming in your panties and, after he tucked himself back in his pants, you quickly obliged as you let him drag you outside and to his car.

________________________________________

“Shitfuckshit more, Minho!” You were almost sobbing from the damned tease and the firm patterns he was applying to your clit in the car as he rushed back to his apartment. You were basically dry-humping his hand as he continued to torment you over the thin fabric of your leggings and you could almost cry in relief when he finally parked in the lot of his building.

You couldn’t get inside the door quick enough before you were on him like a pack of wolves, devouring every inch you could get your claws on. He was quick to respond as he returned your ravenous kiss and stuck his hand under the waistband of your leggings and underwear. His finger ran along your folds and you gasped at the delectable touch. “Shit… you’re so fucking wet…” He groaned against your mouth and you felt yourself being led backward so he could press you up against the wall.

He pulled away from your mouth to look at you as he slid two fingers into you and pressed his palm firmly against your clit. You threw your head back against the wall, jaw slack, as you held his strong forearm in a vice grip and ground down on his hand. All the while feeling the muscles move under the skin of his arm. He obviously enjoyed your reaction as he bit his lip to hold back a cheeky grin. You tried to restrain your noises, but a choked sob breached your lips when he latched his lips onto your neck.

His fingers were slowly thrusting in and out of you and it was heaven but hell at the same time. You couldn’t control the buckling of your knees and felt his other hand tighten around your waist.

When he was sure you wouldn’t fall, he retreated his hand from inside you and he laughed at your affronted face, completely offended that he would rob you of such pleasure. However, this was quickly rectified once he sunk down to his knees and stripped off your undergarments. You were breathing heavily as he looked up at you with blackened eyes that bore into your soul.

Wordlessly, he took one of your bare legs and draped it over his shoulder, pressing his moist lips to your inner thigh soon after. Your breath shuddered when his other hand ran its fingers through your inner labia once again and your gasp was evident when he gently kissed your clit. Still staring into your hooded eyes, he slowly inserted three fingers and you mewled at the stretch.

When his lips and tongue clasped around your clit, you were done for. Instead of thrusting his fingers, he was now digging and pressing rapidly against your g-spot as your orgasm washed over you. You whined and mewled as he led you through your high and you had absolutely drenched his face and your legs.

You grabbed at his shirt to pull him up and he chuckled as you pulled him by the collar to his bedroom.

You found yourself aggressively pushing him down on the bed and fumbling at his belt and jeans to rid him of them. When you finally shed both of y’all’s clothing completely, leaving no separation between your bodies, you instantly climbed up him to straddle him.

He quickly grabbed your hips as you lifted your hips to position him at your core. “Woah, wait! L-let me get a condom!” He shuffled to remove you from his lap, but you refused to move. Instead, you dropped yourself to place your sopping pussy up against the length of his flattened dick, not penetrating, just teasing as you slid your heat up and down him.

It looked as if the action knocked all of the breath out of him and the grip he had on your flexing thighs was enough to make you shudder from the delicious pain. He had his head thrown back against the plush bedding and had his eyes scrunched up as if he was using every ounce of his willpower to not just fuck you raw. But that was what you needed from him.

Still grinding on his twitching cock, you leaned forward to run your tongue along his collarbone. “Have you ever fucked anyone raw, Min?” You giggled as his head shot up and his eyes bulged out of his head.

“W-what?! No!” You bit your lip and closed your eyes momentarily, appreciating the drag of his tip against your throbbing clit.

When you opened your eyes again, he looked almost like he was in pain. “Well… I assume you’re clean… and I know I’m clean… and on birth control… and I’m used to not needing…” You looked away blushing and his dick twitched beneath you.

“Holy mother of god…” He slightly sat up and grabbed your face to smash your lips together, using his tongue to explore the entirety of your mouth before pulling back to search your eyes. “Are you absolutely sure, kitten?” He sounded distraught and your vision was hazed over with lust as you continued to grind on him.

“Of course, you might be a piece of shit, but I trust you…” You briefly moved your smirking mouth to nibble at his ear and whispered sensually into it. “I like the feeling of being filled up. The feeling of cum hitting my walls and spilling out slowly is my number one weakness.” He whispered dozens of expletives in response and squeezed you infinitesimally closer by your ass.

“Just a fair warning…” He growled against your neck as he lifted your hips. “I’m not sure how long I’ll last if I go in raw…” You giggled and reached in between your flush chests to grab his painfully hard erection to position him at your entrance and his breath shuddered as he rested his head against your shoulder.

Both of you emitted loud, pornographic moans as you sank down on him and you relished in the thought of your ass being bruised in the shape of his fingerprints. You had to wait and adjust to his size once more and you didn’t think you would ever be able to get over how amazing he felt. You were trembling, he was sweating, and both of you had moved to lazily entangle tongues.

When you made a move to start grinding, he gripped your hips again. “J-just a little bit longer… you have no idea how amazing you feel.” You don’t know why, but you felt a fluttering in your stomach and, in fear of what it might mean, you willed it away. Instead, you replaced it with mischievousness.

You began a slow journey with your tongue dragging down his jaw, neck, and clavicle just to find your destination on his strong pec. You lazily kissed and sucked all around it and when you closed your mouth around his nipple, you squeezed your pussy tight around him just before you felt a jolt beneath you.

“Fuck!” He grunted and his fingers dug into your hips further, producing a pain that you would have never realized would be a turn-on. You could feel his glare burn into you where you were latched onto his pec and you hummed against him, repeating the action as you flicked your tongue. “Motherfu–”

He cut off his swear short when you felt yourself being lifted off of him and thrown onto your back in the soft bedding. You gasped and he growled as he sunk back inside you, this time not relenting as he crushed your cervix.

“You’re a fucking brat.” He snarled against where his mouth was devouring your neck. “You asked for this, kitten…” He left the skin of your neck chilled with his saliva as he pulled back and poised himself up on his knees. You were thrumming with need as you watched him grab your ankles and throw your legs over his shoulders, hefting your hips up with his strong arms and nailing you directly in your sweet spot.

The breath was knocked clear out of you.

Your eyebrows scrunched, your jaw slackened, and your whole body went taut with the overwhelming feeling of just him. He was all you could feel, see, smell, taste, and hear as he continued to relentlessly pound into you. Minho. Minho. Minho!

He folded you in half when he kneeled down to lick your lips open and you let him in willingly. It wasn’t long before your lips forgot to move against his as you released small “ah– ah– ah” ‘s with every thrust, all the while he was lapping up the saliva that pooled at the edges of your mouth. He barely had to even graze his thumb over your clit before you came with a cry of his name on your lips.

You were still riding your high when you ran a hand through his sweaty hair. You could see the restraint in his features. “Cum in me Minho, please.” His head dropped down to your breast with a moan and a few breathless expletives before you felt him empty himself inside you, a feral grunt seeping out of his clenched teeth that had bitten down on the swell of your breast.

You gasped at the delicious feeling and threw your head back, baring your neck to him and prompting him to glide his tongue up the length of it.

Once he pumped out every last drop and his tongue had finished properly tasting the entirety of your neck, he flopped over on his side next to you. The air almost seemed to be laden with steam and arousal and all of your exhaustion from the night before, that day, and the mind blowing sex came crashing down on you like a tsunami.

The last dregs of your consciousness were consumed with Minho cleaning you, changing you, and hydrating you before you passed out beneath the sheets that smelt like the concentrated scent of just Minho…

________________________________________

Hannie🐹:

Hey beautiful

Princess👑:

Well hello Jisungie

To what do I owe this rare attempt of social interaction?

Hannie🐹:

Oh shush, u haven’t tried to reach out either!

Princess👑:

True, but the question still stands

Hannie🐹:

Ur coming to Chan’s party tonight right?

You tried to bury the sting that the question presented, but it still hit a sore spot to know that even that one random chick Minho was talking to knew before you did. You gulped back the lump in your throat.

Princess👑:

I didn’t think I was invited

Hannie🐹:

What? Why wouldn’t u be?

Princess👑:

Well the fact that I had to hear about it from someone else was a big indicator

You cringed after you sent the message, realizing the salt that was poured all over that sentence.

Hannie🐹:

What?!?!

Princess👑:

It really is fine Hannie

No one expects you guys to include me just because I’m ur friend’s little sister

When he didn’t respond, you assumed he had just dropped the issue, deciding that you weren’t worth the trouble. However, as you were walking out of your last class of the day, your phone lit up in your hand with the caller ID indicating that your conversation was far from over.

“Hannie?” You raised the phone to your ear as you walked down the campus sidewalk.

“Pardon my manners, princess, but you’re a goddamned idiot if you think you’re only ‘his little sister’ to us.” You balked at his words. “For starters, you are our friend just as much as he is.” You felt your steps slow with each word from his mouth. “Secondly, the only reason you didn’t hear about it sooner is because Hwang Hyunjin is a complete pabo. He was in charge of telling you, like, a century ago and apparently he forgot to tell not only you, but a whole bunch of other people.”

Was that really true? Or was he just trying to make excuses?

“Either way, Chan definitely wants you there and I know for a fact that I want you there.”

“Ji, really, it’s fi–”

“Please?” You could practically already see the cute pout on his face and you habitually smiled.

After a long sigh and some deliberation, you caved. “Okay, fine. Send me the time and address.”

The next what felt like a whole thirty seconds was filled with the adorable sound of Jisung’s triumphant self-appreciation as he sent you the information. You couldn’t hold back the giggles of endearment for the man and the call ended with a smile on your face.

“Ooooh, who was that? If the smile on your face is anything to go by, its a boooy~” You heard your best friend’s chipper voice ring from where she sauntered up beside you, scaring you half to death.

You jumped and held your hand to your heart as she giggled at you. “My god, Tiff! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” She grabbed your hand that was pressed to your chest and swung your intertwined hands as she walked with you to the bus stop.

“Sooo, who was it?”

“Just Jisung.” You shrugged as the two of you sat on the bench to wait.

“Oh my gosh!” Tiffany gasped and clutched your arm, earning a raised brow from you. “Did he tell you about Chan’s party?! Are you going?!”

OF FUCKING COURSE she knew before you. You had to take a deep breath to maintain your composure and not blow the fuck up. “Yeah, are you?”

“Um, of course?!” She said as if you were crazy to even ask. “Do you think Minho will be there?”

Her question threw you for a loop and your mind was immediately brought back to earlier that morning when you snuck out of his apartment before he woke up. You definitely didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness of being kicked out so you went ahead and took it upon yourself to initiate the task.

You sucked your teeth in and stood up, watching as the bus slowly approached. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

She flashed you a mischievous grin and swiftly turned to take a seat in the back. When you joined her, she swiveled in her seat to face you. “I want you to help me hook up with him.”

You felt like you had just been punched in the gut. “WHAT?!” You startled at your own raised voice and shyly bowed your head in apology to the few surrounding onlookers. You looked back to your friend and you really hoped your face didn’t betray your panic.

Why, of all people, did she want to start pursuing your Minho? No. No, he’s not yours. He’s just a friend. Was he even considered a friend? Shit, the lines were blurring.

“What? I totally know he’s into me and I might have a better shot tonight if you talk me up.” Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice your inner turmoil.

Wait.

What did she say?

“How do you know he’s into you?”

She rolled her eyes with a cheeky smile. “He saved my number, love. He texted me today and asked if we were going to the party. A guy doesn’t save a girl’s number unless he’s for sure into them. Especially if the girl has been very obviously flirting with them and is not just a buddy-buddy relationship.”

You felt like you had just been bitch slapped and you sensed an indescribable feeling rise in your throat, prompting you to force yourself to swallow it back. Why was he texting your best friend? “H-how do you know he’s not already taken?” You knew he wasn’t, but you couldn’t stomach the thought of him being with your best friend.

“Again, he saved my number.” She actually seemed somewhat annoyed now. “What’s the big deal? Are you going to help me or not?”

Your throat was completely dry and you felt the heat pumping through your veins. “You can have so many guys, Tiff. Why Minho, exactly?” You grimaced as she crossed her arms and glared at you.

“Oh my fucking god. What is your DEAL? Is it just because you hate the man?! Get over yourself, sweetheart. He’s a grown man and I’m a grown woman and there is clearly a mutual attraction so I’m not going to let your pettiness get in the way of my fun. If it really bothers you, then forget I asked. I can win him over by myself anyway.” She sneered as she turned her attention to the window and thus ended the conversation.

You felt tears prick at your eyes and you didn’t quite know where you were, but you pressed the button to be let out of the bus anyway. Why? Just why did it have to be her to steal him? No, not steal… He’s not yours…

He’s NOT yours…

When you stepped out, you took a large gulp of fresh air and willed the tears away. You refused to let her demean you. You refused to let her ruin your fun tonight. You refused to let her win. The fucking bitch needs to be knocked down a few notches and learn that she can’t just earn everything by spreading her legs. Well, that is if Minho didn’t take her bait…

________________________________________

Tiff💞:

Hey babe

Can we just forget about earlier?

I’ll see you tonight kay?

😘

Not even an apology or anything. What a bitch. You probably looked like you had murder on your mind as you looked down at your phone and back up at Chan’s frat house. You took a deep breath to will the fury from your soul and smoothed your hands over your clothes, only slightly self-conscious of the dainty material you had recently purchased.

For no particular reason whatsoever, you had recently decided to go shopping for a few outfits of the, um… more mature variety. Not to impress anyone in particular… Definitely not to gain the attention of a certain someone… You just wanted to broaden your wardrobe. That’s it. No other reason…

You still wore your regular combat boots because there was no overcoming your ability to break your ankles in heels, but the rest of the outfit was definitely new to you. (Plus, the black boots kind of looked cute with the rest of the outfit.)

Your sheer black tights were silky smooth up your legs to be met with a short (almost too short) high-waisted solid black mini skirt. The real kicker was your top. It was a jet-black eyelash-lace corset/cami top that rose well above your navel and you were almost too chicken to wear it due to it looking practically like lingerie. But the issues with Tiffany and Minho made you uncharacteristically bold that night. You decided to wear a form-fitting leather jacket (also black of course), but it still left most of your top visible.

You, once again, willed your breathing to steady as you walked up the steps and opened the front door.

The party was in full swing as you warily made your way through the party goers. It was almost impossible to focus due to the crowd, the noise, the heavy air, and the dim lighting (minus the flashing and colored lights that lit up most of the open area of dancers).

Is this the norm for college parties?

You didn’t even know where you were going, you just knew there was one person you were subconsciously searching fo–

…Minho…

You halted in your tracks and you watched in horror as you saw that your best friend had found the man first.

Bile rose in your throat as you watched Minho hand her a drink with a smile and she clung onto his arm like a fucking leach. Hyunjin and Changbin were with them, but Tiffany only seemed interested in running her hands over Minho’s muscular arm and talking in his ear, entirely too close to him with her filthy lips.

You were sure you were gonna be sick.

You saw Minho’s eye wander about the room as Tiffany took a breath long enough to take a drink, and you panicked when his gaze snapped to yours. Before you could even acknowledge either of your’s reactions, you beelined it to the kitchen with all the alcohol that you had passed earlier and shoved your way through the crowd to hastily find the room and make your drink. A strong drink.

You had just finished stirring it when you felt a gentle hand on your elbow. You whipped your head around to be faced with the bane of your existence. He was so damned beautiful you wanted to just punch him square in the face. The top half of the buttons on his black button-up were undone to show off the low neckline of his white undershirt, causing your eyes to want to wander down to his perfectly defined chest that was adorned with a single silver pendulum necklace and a beaded choker that would look feminine on anyone but him. His blonde hair was styled back out of his face and it accentuated his beautiful, dark round eyes.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you–” Before he could finish his sentence, he must have noticed your ensemble due to the fact that his eyes were bugged out and were blatantly gazing down at your clothes. “Oh fuck…” He whispered so low you almost didn’t catch it. When he cleared his throat and came back to the land of the living, his cheeks were pink when he said, “You look so fucking gorgeous…” Your exhale was shaky and you could almost get drunk off of his handsome grin alone. You hated it.

It took you a moment to rip your eyes from him, but when you did, you decided it was necessary for you to chug your drink for dear life.

“Woah, woah! The night’s only started!” When he made a move to still your cup, you pulled it away from him with a glower.

“For me maybe, but who knows how long you and ‘little miss man eater’ over there have been exchanging verbal foreplay.” Minho’s eyes widened comically and turned back to look at Tiffany who was glaring daggers at you both.

“I’m sorry, verbal what???” He asked incredulously as he turned back to you. You heard me dickwad. However, instead of voicing your thoughts, you just huffed out a disbelieving half-chuckle and turned back to refill your drink.

This definitely needs to be twice as strong.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me…” You rolled your eyes, already knowing where this was headed. “Kitten, are you jealous?” You turned back around to be met with a shit-eating grin and you were about two seconds away from kicking him where the sun doesn’t shine until you suddenly found the other five men you were here for huddled by a wall talking amongst themselves away from your so-called bestie.

You just clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes, walking away without a word and marching over to the group.

Jisung saw you first, a huge smile lighting up the entire room until it was instantly erased with an expression that looked like he suddenly shat out a brick. At first, you were concerned, that was until the other four followed his gaze and had the same series of reactions. It was only when you got closer that you saw all of them ogling your outfit and you found yourself wanting to shrink into yourself at the attention.

“H-Hey guys!” You said with a wary smile as you stopped in front of the semi-circle they made at your arrival. It was only from your words that their trances were broken and they all looked back up to your face with blushing faces before not-so-subtly avoiding your eyes. You felt embarrassment wash over you like a bucket of ice and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you averted your eyes down to make yourself look small. “I… I’m sorry… did I overdo the outfit? I haven’t really ever been to one of these parties. Heh…”

You nervously chuckled and rubbed the cold sweat off the back of your neck with one hand while the other was still firmly wrapped around your torso. “No!” You heard multiple panicked voices say in tandem before the sound of clearing throats.

Felix, the angel, smiled sweetly at you and stepped forward to wrap you in a hug. “Of course not, sweetie. You look beautiful.” He stepped back as the rest agreed and Jisung stole the next hug.

“More like a fucking goddess!” You felt your feet lift off the ground as he squeezed your waist and your cheeks flooded with heat when he pressed his soft lips to your cheek before retreating.

After the rest greeted you similarly, Chris stepped to the side to reveal a tray of shots on the small table behind him. “Now that the whole group is finally here, we can finally start the real fun!” You’re part of their group? Everyone grabbed one of the seven shot glasses before Chris handed yours directly to you with a whisper in your ear. “Don’t take anything from anyone unless they’re one of the six of us, yeah?” The hot breath you felt against you made you shiver, but you nodded regardless.

“Yah! Get out of her ear, perv!” Minho shouted from behind him as he held his own shot. Chris stepped back to look at him with raised brows, but you intervened first.

“Oh calm down, Minho. We’re all adults here.” Changing your threatening tone to a lighter one, you raised your glass. “To Chris’ last year! We’ll miss you Channie!” And you, in the slightly petty and tipsy mood, planted a kiss right on Chris’ cheek, startling the blushing man in the process. Tension set aside, everyone raised their glasses to dink ‘em and sink ‘em. Minho only downing his after he was finished glowering at your smug face.

You caught up with them for a little bit, but with every passing minute, you felt the drinks start to hit you. And, as per usual, when you drank, you got very… touchy-feely. Your first victim was Felix, but that was because the man was always ready for cuddles. After that, you had stolen Jisung from Minho, who was possessed with about the same amount of drunken clinginess, the latter having Jisung previously wrapped around him as the elder had his own arm thrown over his shoulder. However, Jisung was happy to switch to wrapping his arms around your semi-bare waist instead when you beckoned him.

It was just as Changbin was giving a very detailed speech to Hyunjin about the importance of cardio when you glanced over at Minho. Your eyes widened when you took in the absolutely livid expression he had directed at Jisung and Felix before a wry smile grew on your lips.

A plan formed in your head. A wicked, evil little plan to give Minho a taste of his own medicine. However, before you could execute it, the she-devil showed up and found purchase around Minho’s arm again.

“There you are! I thought you said you’d be right back!” She said with what was supposed to be a cute pout, but all you saw was the manipulative sneer hidden in her eyes as she glanced at you. Minho looked at her with wide eyes and then back at you with what looked like anxiety.

“Wha– I– Um…” As he was babbling in his loss for words, you pulled away from the boys surrounding you and turned around to face them with a dubious grin that didn’t reach your eyes.

With your back facing Minho, you downed your drink and rid yourself of your jacket, letting the refreshing air conditioning soothe your previously confined arms. When you placed your empty cup and jacket on the small table behind them, you extended your hands out to the men. “C’mon, who’s going to show a girl a good time tonight and dance with me?”

You eyed Chris who was already gulping down his own drink, the man staring at all the bare skin you had on display all the while, and setting his empty cup next to your own. You smiled up at him as he took one of your hands and you watched Jisung’s eyes flick over to Minho before grabbing your other one. Your smile brightened further and you hugged them both by the neck giddily before dragging them over to the makeshift dancefloor.

You could feel several pairs of eyes watch as the three of you retreated and you couldn’t help but feel somewhat smug with the thought of Minho and Tiffany being a couple of them.

You felt the alcohol wash away your anger and jealousy and let the upbeat music pump through your veins as you danced between the two men. At first, it was very PG, but the density of the crowd thickened and soon enough Chris was up against your backside while Jisung was against the front. The more hyped you got from the heavy air, loud beats, and strong drinks, the more bold your dancing became.

You had one arm thrown around Jisung’s neck and the other thrown around the back of Chris’ head from behind as you began grinding against the pair. They must have been equally as plastered because their roaming hands were definitely encouraging you. Jisung’s hands roved over your waist and abdomen as Chris’ paved their way up and down your hips and thighs.

All of you were sticky with sweat and the feeling of Chris’ breath on your neck and Jisung’s lustful eyes watching your body move was making you even hotter. Even though you were super insecure at the beginning of the night, you now felt bold and sexy and wanted. You felt a sliver of pride that you were still able to make men covet you even if… others didn’t.

After a while, you felt that same hot breath from behind you talk into your ear again. “I’m gonna tap out for a bit gorgeous.” Chris said before he kissed your cheek and weaved his way through grinding bodies to head back over to the group.

You returned your eyes to your remaining dance partner who met your gaze with hooded lids. You allowed yourself to be pulled flush against him, but you turned so your back was up against him now as you grinded and rolled against his firm body. Your whole mind was clouded and all you knew was how good the body against you felt.

With the man out of your line of vision, you closed your eyes and let yourself be consumed in the moment. Your hands reached back and threaded through his silky hair and you felt the fingers that trailed down your hips tickle the spot where your outer thighs met your skirt.

You gasped when you felt his hard cock push into your lower back and he squeezed you tighter when you rolled back into it. Gosh, Minho, you feel so good.

But why did Minho’s fingers feel longer when you went to grab them?

Your internal question was already forgotten when you felt his warm lips touch down on the soft curve of your neck and the next thing you knew, you were dragging him to the nearest secluded area to taste those lips that you always seemed to crave now. The lips that made you cum a hundred different ways by now.

Turns out the nearest secluded spot was a door that led out to a small side patio that was somehow completely deserted. Without much thought, you whipped back around with blurry vision as you pressed your lips to his. Well… tried to at least. It took a couple tries to hit your target, but when they did, you groaned and instantly tangled tongues with him. But…

Why does this seem so foreign? Does it just feel different because you were drunk? And had Minho been wearing a t-shirt this whole time?

When you allowed your hands to roam up under his shirt, the lustful groan the man emitted had your eyes flying open. That is definitely NOT Minho’s voice.

“Ji-Jisung?” He fluttered his eyes open when you sprang off of him, stumbling back like a fucking hooch monkey, and he gave you a confused blink.

“Wha– Huh? What’s wrong, princess?” He stumbled a bit as he picked himself off the wall you had pressed him against and you covered your mouth in mortification. You could only widen your watery eyes and shake your head in disbelief as you watched him look more and more concerned. It wasn’t until he grabbed your face to wipe your tears that you realized you started crying. “Oh my god, are you okay? Did I hurt you?!”

He sat you down on a patio chair to squat in front of you and rubbed soothing circles on your knee as you buried your face in your hands. “Nononononono!” Your turmoil was muffled behind your hands and you started sobbing as you looked back up at Jisung. “I-I’m s-so sorry J-Ji–”

He was frantically searching your eyes and he ran his palms up and down your arms. “What in the world for?” Confusion was tattooed across his face and you felt even more ashamed that you would have to explain.

“I…” You tried to gulp down breaths to explain between sobs and slurred speech. “I d-din’know it was you who…” Another round of tears cascaded as you saw a distraught realization wash over him. You felt awful for using your friend so horrendously. You couldn’t believe how selfish you were just because you didn’t want to share…

Minho…

Minho must have gone home with Tiffany. Why wouldn’t he, right? She was beautiful and sexy and you were a completely sloshed jackass. He probably never wanted to see you ever again after one night with that dick-whipped cunt of a woman.

You felt your whole body start shaking as another round of sobs wracked your body and Jisung quickly wrapped you in his arms. “Shh shh, it’s okay. You haven’t done anything wrong, sweetie. It’ll be okay…” His calm and reassuring voice made you squeeze onto your friend for dear life.

“I-I’m s-so s–” He just continued his gentle hushing to get you to calm down and he helped you focus on your breathing. Tears still flowing down your face but sobs having died down, you sat back to look at him. “Ji…”

“Shhh, it’s okay. We’re both drunk, it happens.” He tried to give you a reassuring smile, but it didn’t do anything to make you feel like you weren’t an absolute piece of shit.

“Ji, I…” Your words had zero filter as they supplied a watery– “I-I think ’m in love w'Minho.”

His eyes widened. You expected him to freak out. To call you a whore or spit on you. What you didn’t see coming was the slow smile that crept across his cute cheeks. “Minho-hyung?” You nodded with a sniff and he instantly wrapped you in a hug again. His voice was muffled against your hair a bit, but he replied tenderly. “I can think of no person more deserving of your love than him.”

What on god’s green earth did he mean by that?

He sighed and pulled back again, wiping away more tears. “Have you thought about telling him that?” The question had your mind reeling and you felt sick of just the thought of it.

Wait. Maybe it’s not the idea that made you sick. Maybe it was…

In the blink of an eye, you threw yourself off the chair and leaned over the railing, immediately hurling your guts all over the manicured lawn below. As the snot, tears, and vomit evacuated your body, you felt Jisung’s cool hands pull your hair out of the way and rub soothing circles on your back. This man is just too good for this world…

You felt like you spent years over that railing, somehow more still coming out, until you heard the door to the house open and close. “What happened?” Was that Minho’s voice? Why is he still here?

You lifted your head to look back at him, not even considering the fact that you probably (most definitely) looked like a trainwreck on steroids. “W-why’re you he–” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before you were ralphing again.

“Evidently, she’d mistaken me for you, do you have that water I asked for?”

“Yeah.” When did he even ask Minho to come out here?

“Here, kitten. Drink this.” He held up a bottle of water next to you and you eagerly grabbed it. “Don’t chug.” He said holding it out of reach before he gave it to you. “You’ll make yourself even more sick.” You sat down again and slowly nursed on the water as your eyes stayed glued to the piece of artwork that was Lee Minho.

You watched his beautiful lips move as he faced Jisung, but you didn’t hear any of the words that were exchanged. All you could hear was the thrumming of blood through your veins in your ears and the bass of the music from inside. Also when you heard the beautiful melody of Minho’s laugh… MY. GOD. The man was just too perfect…

Your vision slowly faded as you stared at his pretty eyes and you just wished you could dive into the two black pools of his irises. The darkness that was slowly encompassing your vision was thwarted when you felt yourself being buckled into the back of an Uber by Minho as he slid in next to you and gave the driver his address.

Before you could think about what you were about to say, you chuckled. “Y’mean Tiff in’t ‘lready spread-eagle on yer bed?”

You expected him to get annoyed, but he just side-eyed you with an amused smirk. “You’ve got it pretty bad, huh?”

“Well excuse me for having experience with a man who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants for other college girls.” Well, that was surprisingly well-enunciated… However, before you could pat yourself on the back for that small victory, you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open and you raised your hand to take a drink, only to find your hand bottleless. Who the fuck drank all my water?

The look he gave you was melancholy and he gently pat your knee before responding. “Don’t worry, kitten. Tiffany isn’t at my place. And I doubt your parents would be thrilled to be woken up so late by hearing you stumble in the house at two in the morning. Hence my reasoning for us staying at my place. Is that alright?”

You didn’t even register your dumb nod as you zoned out on his beautiful face. His features were so breathtaking that your hand moved unbidden and you found yourself tracing the sharp contours with your shaky fingers. He didn’t move a muscle as your fingers ghosted over his nose, eyelids, jaw, and then finally the plump outline of his lips.

“Y-yer so b’tiful Min…” His eyes burned with a familiar fire and he gently lowered your hand when the car pulled up to his place.

________________________________________

Minho😈:

Where did u go?

Kitten?

R u at least safe?

Please talk to me

I called ur parents and they said ur alright

I’m sorry if I hurt u in any way

I would never intentionally do anything to harm u

U mean so much to me…

Just… let me know when ur ready to talk…

You scanned the texts that had been flooding in all day after you snuck out of his place without a word at the crack of dawn. Made easier due to the fact that he was courteous enough to sleep on the couch due to your inebriated state. You remembered everything. Everything. Including your agonizing realization of your feelings for the man.

Your phone clattered to the ground when you chucked it and turned over in your bed to bury your face in your pillow. Luckily, you didn’t ever really get hangovers, but that didn’t mean you weren’t entitled to a day to wallow in self-pity. So this is where you’ve been all day, the night quickly approaching as you squeezed your pillow tighter.

You weren’t worthy of his attention. You were just a convenient pussy. Tiffany is way more experienced and probably showed him some of that expertise last night. If your last boyfriend couldn’t even be satisfied with you, who else would? You were a shit friend who used Jisung, one of your best friends, as a tool. You were worse than nothing. You were a disease.

You felt yourself drowning in a sinkhole of your thoughts before a knock at your bedroom door pulled you out of it. You kept your face buried as the door opened and heard your mom’s sweet voice. “Honey?”

You just responded with a non-commital grunt.

“Minho called again…” Silence. “Honey, I know you two were never on the best of terms, but he’s trying so so hard to mend that since your brother left. I don’t know what happened between you two, but I just know he sounded genuinely upset.” You felt the tears well up in your eyes and kept your head firmly planted in ur pillow, slowly suffocating yourself.

You felt a dip next to you in the bed and the gentle hand of your mother rubbing your back.

She was silent for a moment before she sighed. “I never told you this, just because he asked me not to, but I think it might be necessary now…” That caught your attention just enough to twist your head to look at her loving smile. “When you and your boyfriend broke up, Minho called me every single day for a week to check and see if you were alright. He was the one who bought your favorite snacks every day, not your dad.”

You furrowed your brows and sat up next to her. “W-why didn’t he want you to tell me?”

She gave you a soft smile and patted your knee before she stood up. “That’s something you’re going to have to ask him yourself.” She turned back to you when she reached the door. “Your father and I are going to an office party tonight and won’t be back until late. Really late.” She raised her brow, hinting at a suggestion. “Call us if you need anything. I love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too, Mom…” You mumbled as she left the room.

When the door shut behind her, you pulled your knees to your chest and buried your face in your hands. How could this happen? You’ve disliked this man ever since high school, it just doesn’t make any sense to start falling in love now. I mean, his dick is magic, sure. But you’ve been craving to just see him any time of day just to simply be around him! He’s probably sick of your mixed signals and mood swings.

It had taken you by surprise when you woke up an hour later to the sound of the doorbell, not even realizing you had fallen asleep in the first place. Your parents had probably already left when you were sleeping, so you scrambled up out of your bed and went to answer the door.

When you opened the door, your heart stopped. No other man on the planet could sport a bare face, discheveled hair, and sweatpants and still look like a fucking god like Minho did. You had only started to realize just how gorgeous he was when he hit his senior year of high school. It had pissed you off at the time, but now… well, actually no, it still pissed you off. It just wasn’t fair to have such power over you with that piercing gaze and ability to make hearts stop at the sight of him.

“Minho…” You whispered as your eyes widened. He stood in the doorway and scratched the back of his head.

“Sorry, I… I didn’t want to let myself in because… because I didn’t know if you wanted to see me or not…” I always want to see you. You cursed your own thoughts for being so weak for the man. Without a word, you stepped to the side to let him in. “I’m sorry for showing up unannounced, kitten. But I just had to make sure you were alright.” He mumbled as he looked down to step out of his shoes. “Or upset with me…”

Boots unexpectedly ran up to Minho with a cute little meow as she rubbed her face and beautiful black fur against his legs with quiet purring. You both smiled down at the adorable feline and Minho bent down to scoop her up in his arms, knowing how much she loved to be held (unlike other cats) by people she trusted. You felt a fluttering in your chest just watching him hold her. Knowing that, just like your precious boots, you had also come to care for the man.

You raised your hand to pet Boots, but your eyes were fixed on Minho’s. “I’m not upset with you Minho… If you want someone else, it’s not my place to get in between that.” You turned to head back to your room, but as you approached your bedroom door, a gentle hand loosely wrapped itself around your wrist and stopped you in your tracks.

You warily turned around and Minho’s expression was a mixture of anger and hurt. “If you think, even for a second, that I prefer her over you, you’re more stupid than I thought.” He said the words with a lethal calm that made shivers run down your spine. Your face was incredulous, but he ignored it. “The idea that I would prefer anyone over you is almost an insult.” You allowed him to pull your body closer to his as he now had his hands wrapped around your waist. “I think of you every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to sleep. I’ve been hating myself ever since we started this whole arrangement because I feel like I’m just taking advantage of you, which was not my intent at all. But I didn’t want to stop it either because I don’t want to… I don’t want to lose what we have… I don’t want to lose you…”

You closed your eyes from the burning you felt pricking at your tear ducts and involuntarily leaned into his touch when the backs of his fingers gently brushed over the flushed skin of your cheek.

“You’re so, so beautiful, kitten. Inside and out.” It was unlike Minho to get so sentimental, but he seemed to feel the need to speak his piece. Even if it caused a dusting of pink blooming on his ears and cheeks. However, your blush felt like it rivaled his as it radiated all throughout your body.

Your hands, which had been curled up against his chest, started fidgeting as you looked down at them. You didn’t know if you should ask him or not, but you decided you needed to know. “Minho… why… why did you call my mom to check up on me after my breakup?”

He stiffened momentarily, but quickly recovered. You looked back up at his face and it was turned to the side, completely crimson. “I…” His lips formed a tight line and then relaxed as he turned back to look at you. “I couldn’t stand the thought of what that prick did to you. I wanted to go beat the living shit out of him, crush his nuts, curb stomp him, anything, but I realized that you would most likely prefer comfort over violence. But I knew that one of the last people you would want to see would be me, so I tried to help from the sidelines.”

Your lip wobbled slightly and you pressed yourself a bit closer to him. You were mad that you couldn’t even disagree with him because, at that point in time, you would’ve dreaded the idea of this man, usually void of sentimentality, coming to attempt to comfort you.

The only real comfort you had was Tiffany and, looking back on it, she was pretty shit at it. Now that you’ve realized what a bitch she was, you could recount several occasions where she was just a toxic friend. And you were blind to the situation in favor of seeing the truth.

“So…” You were almost too afraid to ask the question you didn’t know you wanted an answer to or not. His hand that had been stroking your cheek moved to lift your chin up to look at him. His eyes portrayed patience and attentiveness to your words. “Did… did anything happen between you and Tiff?”

The corners of his lips turned down as he furrowed his brow, but it soon morphed into an expression that screamed ‘really?’. He sighed. “Like I said, I only prefer you. I have not and will not ever see her or want her that way.” His eyes flickered from your eyes to the floor in anxiousness and added with an adorably shy mumble. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Relief washed over you like a tidal wave and your body moved on its own when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and ran your fingers through his sandy hair, pressing your lips to his with a tenderness that you had not shared with him before now. You could feel relief flooding him as well as he relaxed under your touch, as if kissing you released all tension in his body.

This kiss wasn’t like the hungry and ravenous ones you two had always shared. This one felt as if you could melt into each other and become one. It was slow, sensual, and filled with all the love you could possibly portray. As you paused the kiss and pressed foreheads together, you closed your eyes as if to pretend you weren’t about to say the words just begging to leap off your tongue.

“Minho… you still annoy the shit out of me, but…” He offered a wry smile against your lips and you opened your eyes and disconnected foreheads to watch him raise his brow with a smirk. You bit back your smile and hid your face in his neck. “...I think I might be in love with you?” You said it like it was a question, almost too quiet to hear, as if you weren’t quite sure if you should’ve said it.

He was silent and you were apprehensive to raise your head. But, when you finally looked at him, you proceeded to witness the most beautiful smile you had ever seen appear on his face. You tried to suppress your suddenly bashful smile, but he only squeezed you tighter. He bit his lip to do the same with his own grin, but he morphed his look to something more mischievous. “Are you sure you don’t just like me for my incredible skills in providing mind blowing orgasms?”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a light smack on his pec. “Ah yes, you’re right! How have I been so blind? I’m only in love with your dick.” He just chuckled at your words dripping with sarcasm and stole a kiss, slow and controlled before he murmured against your lips.

“I love you too, kitten. I have for quite a while now.” Your eyes widened and you could have sworn you saw a bit of fear in his eyes before he was biting his lip again, a smile hidden just beneath the surface.

“W-wha–? How long?!” You pulled back slightly to see his full face and he giggled bashfully. Lee Minho being bashful? He was always so confident and controlled that you almost wanted to capture this moment on camera.

“Well… honestly, it’s been ever since you started dating that douchebag. I didn’t really know why I started to be such an obnoxious dick to you, but I later realized it was just because I was jealous.” He pulled you close once again and tentatively kissed your jaw.

Your heart was racing at the thought of him being in love with you even if you were with another man, yet not interfering directly. But now you finally had him, and you were determined to keep it that way. You squeezed yourself infinitesimally closer to him and kissed his lips slowly before saying, “Well, now I’m yours.” Your lips drifted to whisper in his ear. “Let’s make up for lost time.”

You made your point very clear when you grazed your lips and teeth down the side of his neck while pushing your pelvis into his. “Fuck…” He let out a low groan and slid his hands down to the lower cleft of your ass and gave your cheeks a light squeeze. He captured your lips with a sudden ferocity that made you tremble. Once he led you backwards into your room and pressed your body against the door as he closed it, your passion increased tenfold.

He ground his thigh against the apex of your glistening cunt, your panties dragging along your clit, and the pressure had you gasping against his tongue. Your hips couldn’t help but to roll against him and you could feel the effect of your efforts when he pressed his groin into your hip. You whined in pleasure when he lifted one of your legs and wrapped it around his hip, pushing even closer to you and making it easier to drag the length of your sopping crotch down him.

His other hand, which had still been kneading your ass, moved around to slip up under your shirt to feel the skin of your waist and lower back. You emitted a gasp and then a moan when you felt his warm fingers crawl up under your bra and fondle your erect nipple. You bit your lip to hold back an embarrassing noise you felt crawling to the surface when his lips latched onto your collarbone and started leaving sweet kisses up the length of your neck.

Your fingertips ran up under his shirt to caress his abs and pecs and he took it upon himself to take his shirt off, quickly ridding you of yours shortly after, lips barely leaving each other as you stripped each other completely bare and you pushed him down on the bed to straddle him.

“Shit kitten… you’re unreal…” He stared up at you as if you had hung the moon and he rubbed his hands up and down your thighs gently, as if you were a fragile porcelain doll. You leaned down and began marking up his beautiful chest, but he cupped your cheeks and brought your lips up to his own, placing his hands on your thighs once more. “Can I taste you baby? Make you feel good?” With each word, his hands drifted up to your dripping pussy until his fingers were teasing your entrance.

When he finally plunged a single digit in up to the first knuckle, you found yourself choking on a gasp and nodding frantically. He moved with a speed that made you dizzy when he flipped you onto your back and knelt between your legs.

He stared at your cunt with a hunger that made you shy, but you held back the urge to close your legs in self consciousness. When he looked back up at you and hovered his mouth over where you were aching for him most, he made eye contact as he licked a fat strip up the entirety of your crotch, making sure not to neglect your clit as he sucked it into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the swollen bud.

You threw your head back and moaned like a brainless whore as your hands gravitated to his beautiful blonde mane. However, your head wasn’t down long as you were determined to watch this adonis of a man feast on you. And when he inserted a finger inside you, you were done for. He held your hips down with bruising strength as you writhed beneath him and added a second finger.

You were reduced to a whimpering mess as the man fucked you with his fingers slowly, wanting to gradually build your pleasure. “Minho!” You whined in both gratitude and frustration. He smiled as he briefly pulled his mouth away.

“You gonna melt on my mouth, kitten?” You were beyond words and could only nod your head to communicate. “Say it again…” He breathed against you, making you tingle from the hot air coming from between his lips.

You immediately knew what he meant and your heart swelled. “I love you, Minho.” You gasped and rolled your eyes back as he instantly crooked his finger up into your g-spot and returned his mouth to you. Only this time, his tongue joined as he quickly thrusted his fingers in you with precision. “Fuck I love you so much! Shit!” You screamed his name as you did, indeed, melt on his mouth.

He lapped up your orgasm as if he was famished for you and his mouth slowly sucked and nipped its way up your body to latch onto your neglected nipples. You whined, just wanting him to be inside you already as you wrapped your legs around him and hung on him like a koala, pressing your body to his as you suspended yourself in the air under his crouched position.

He chuckled and pressed you into the mattress again, his warm chest and pelvis pressing against you. You rutted into him until you couldn’t take it anymore and pushed him over until his back was pressed up against the headboard and straddled him once more. “Please fuck me, Minho. I need you to fill me up…” You whispered against his lips as one of your hands tangled in his hair and the other was frantically stroking his dick. To make your point, You knelt down to hover over his cock and let a string of saliva drip from your mouth down onto his throbbing head right before taking him in your mouth.

His thighs tensed under your palms and you closed your eyes in bliss as you listened to the beautiful sounds he was making because of your efforts. You swallowed down more of him and you felt a shaky hand push you back by your shoulder. “Shit, you’re too good at that…” He heaved and roughly grabbed your hips to bring you flush to him, slightly lifting you so he could impale you on his cock.

You clung onto him as you sunk down and squinted your watery eyes to get used to that familiar, delicious stretch. The breath was stolen from you and you felt like you could cum without even moving, your emotional mindset making it all the more intense.

It wasn’t long before you needed more and you gradually started bouncing on him, burying your face in his neck and latching onto his neck with your mouth to muffle your cries of pleasure. He guided your hips with his strong hands and you could tell he was holding himself back from just bending you over and annihilating your pussy into the mattress, but all you felt were his sweet kisses across your neck and shoulder and whispered words of how much he loves you and how beautiful you were.

You weren’t sure how long you two were going at it, lost in the sensation that was just purely Lee Minho, until you ground into him harder and cupped his cheeks with your hands. You tried portraying every ounce of your love for him with that one kiss and slowly picked up your hips, only to drop down on his cock with dizzying speed and force. His mouth went slack against yours and you watched as his eyebrows turned inwards in bliss.

You continued the action a few more times, fusing your body to his, until he took matters into his own hands. Before you knew it, you were on your back with the man thrusting into you with a force that made you scream out his name.

His mouth, hands, and tongue were all over you and your nails dug into his back with the ever-increasing intensity of his thrusts. “M-Minho! ‘M’so close…” You whimpered and he growled into your shoulder.

“Cum on me, kitten. Soak me.”

A few more thrusts and you were done for. You cried out your ecstasy and he followed soon after, riding you through your orgasms.

He was still sheathed inside you when he plopped down on your body to catch his breath. You carded your fingers through his sweat-damp hair from where his face was pressed against your chest and you watched as his breaths gradually slowed.

When he was properly relaxed again, his cock soft inside you, he brought his face up to yours to litter kisses all over your skin, pulling a giggle from you. His smile was blinding when he pulled back to look down at you and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“So, does this mean I can properly call you my girlfriend now? Or do you fall in love with all of your FWBs?” You smacked his arm and he giggled as he laced his fingers in yours with the hand you had just used to abuse him.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Ah, yes. You mean all of the many friends I fuck?” He smirked in response and you just sighed and relaxed into his touch. “No, there’s only room for one annoying asshole in my heart. So I suppose I can accept your proposition…” His smile was both equally parts amused and bashful as he squeezed his arms around you and buried his face in your neck to take in a deep breath of your scent.

“It’s about goddamn time…” He said after another long squeeze and you couldn’t control your sudden urge to smack his cute ass. You squealed out a giggle when he startled and quickly pinned your hands above your head. His eyes were mischievous right before he bent down to bite you on your shoulder, causing you to moan and his cock to jump inside you. His mouth drifted up your neck until he was whispering in your ear. “I hope that was worth it, because now you’re never getting out of this bed tonight.”

And he wasn’t bluffing if the awkward (but not unwelcome) limp in your step the next day had anything to say about it.

________________________________________

“You’re shitting us. You two?” Hyunjin looked positively floored the next day you and Minho had the group all together and told them the two of you were dating.

“How the fuck did this happen? I thought you hated Minho!” Changbin, equal disbelief in his tone. Minho scowled at him and Changbin held up his hands in a hasty defense.

You had vehemently apologized to Jisung the next time you saw him and told him you’d never forgive yourself for what happened. He just laughed it off and said he was happy for you, but you couldn’t help but notice a touch of sadness in his smile while the rest of the group freaked out. However, Chris seemed a bit sheepish himself as well.

You tried to focus on the smiling face of Felix instead. “Don’t get me wrong, he still properly annoys the everliving fuck out of me, but I guess he passes for a tolerable enough boyfriend.” You smiled teasingly at him and he scoffed at you with a suppressed smile.

“So what does the big bro think about this?”

You smiled wide and confident at Chris’ inquiry and casually answered. “We’re avoiding telling him like the plague.”

Minho spoke up at this. “So I swear, if any of you motherfuckers breathe a word before we say so, you will end up having a very short lifespan.” The group chuckled nervously and you whacked his shoulder while he had the audacity to act all innocent like he hadn’t said anything wrong.

“Why do you gotta be such a pain in the ass, Min?” You casually repremanded him with little to no bite behind the question, instead chuckling at him.

“Well I guess their dynamic hasn’t changed at least.” Hyunjin scoffed.

Suddenly, the group’s attention drifted to something behind where you and Minho were standing and you turned around to see Tiffany strutting straight up to Minho, acting as if you, or any of the rest of the guys for that matter, didn’t exist. “Hey, Minho! I was wondering if you want to grab lunch with me? I have a coupon for that sandwich place down the road and I thought I could use the company.” She ran her hand down his arm and circled his fingers around his wrist.

What a brazen bitch.

He pulled his hand from her grasp and immediately wrapped his arm around your waist with an annoyed expression directed at her. “Uh, no thanks. I was gonna go get lunch with the guys and my new girlfriend, so I think I’ll pass.” You heard Changbin and Hyunjin snickering behind you and you couldn’t contain your smug smile as you watched the rage morph on her face when she eyed where you and Minho connected.

She scoffed and looked at you like you were a pathetic worm, making you slightly curl in on yourself. The way she could make people feel like trash was one of her best capabilities. “Are you kidding me?! You were really so fucking hungry for dick that you felt the need to prove something to me by taking him? That’s just sad, sweetheart.”

Minho took a step toward her, not actually planning on doing anything violent, only to intimidate her just enough to have the enirety of campus feel the need to give him a wide berth. You held him back anyway and she just scoffed at him.

She slightly leaned around to look at you past his towering form and sneered at you. “Fine, have it your way. I already got to fuck your last boy toy anyway, I don’t need this one too.” Your heart dropped and she gave a wicked smile before turning and, right as she started leaving, you heard a voice speak up from the group of boys behind you.

“Oh just go choke on another cock why don’t you, deep-dished bitch.” She whipped her head around with fury in her eyes before hastily stomping away. You and Minho looked back incredulously at Jisung and he just shrugged. You don’t think you had ever heard anything so malicious from his mouth and a wide smile broke out on your face before hugging him. He gave you a warm hug back and smoothed his hand up and down your spine. “No one talks to my soulmate’s girl that way.”

You smiled up at him and squeezed him once more before returning to Minho, wrapping yourself around him and trying to ignore the fact that your best friend had fucked your ex without you knowing. However, knowing how much the men around you cared about you, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a flying fuck.

Minho leaned over to quickly press a kiss to your head and squeeze you. “Do you…” You vehemently cut him off with a kiss pressed to his lips as you shook your head. He smiled down at you and then began guiding you. “C’mon, Changbin’s gonna pass out if we don’t feed him soon.”

“Yah!” Changbin yelled and Minho cackled right before his phone went off in his pocket.

To both of your surprises, it was your older brother and as soon as Minho answered, you were sure the whole campus could hear the screaming from his end of the receiver. “WHAT THE FUCK MINHO?! MY SISTER?! YOU’RE FUCKING MY BABY SISTER?! YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD, DUDE!”

The two of you looked at each other in terror and you looked over to see Tiffany with her phone out and an evil grin on her face moments before strutting away. That bitch used my brother against me?!?! You turned back to the rest of the guys that had their eyes fixed on the two of you and their horrified looks confirmed your suspicions that they had, in fact, heard your brother’s bellowing.

Well shit.

________________________________________

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