#favorite genre of person on god

[spicimunni]

#favorite genre of person on god #meme #fandom

[1980ssunflower]

aouhhh 🥺💖💙🥰

#ot3: ❤rhyme💛easy💙 #tape entry circa 1980 #ngl ive been feeling like a bit sad like... i just miss them sm hfdjks #i just wish so SO soso so badly that i could go home to them both back in the 80s #to be w the loves of my life but ALSO to have someone i can talk music to and we can just talk abt music for hours <33 #i can just talk abt it to them and theyll completely understand and give their own thoughts abt whatever song/band/album im talking abt #and id love to hear them go on long insane rants abt their own favorite albums and for them to show me a new album they listened to #something theyd know i like cause we love the same music genres #fuck i just miss them so much... they understand me more than anyone and get along w me more than ANYONE #i couldnt even try to imagine a person who better suites me than them even if i tried to create the perfect person for me #they just ARE already the epitome of perfection for me like we were made to know and love eachother to get along so well to be inseparable #i love them... god i love them both so much just thinking about them always makes me cry #i almost never cry its only ever because of them that i cry... #i miss them so so fucking much i keep thinking about them throughout the day #just imagining me being w them to be able to kiss and hold them and show them just how much i love them both #actually today i was picturing them here w me which is something i never do #i just love and miss them... i feel lonely and just ah... idk i wish i could go off on an adventure w them rn #i want to escape the life im living rn and just run off on the road w them chasing after our dream of being rockstars #tbh id also just love to experience the train together and get to see all that crazy stuff yknow? would make good song writing material lol #idk i feel like i cant truly get into how much i truly love and miss them w/o sounding super depressed and pathetic tbh #so i keep holding myself back from really expressing how i feel abt them

[saturnoyjupiter-mp3]

JÓSI (AU)

un grito se escuchó a la distacia y sintió una punzada en su corazón. el tono era demasiado parecido al de jóga y juraba que estaba justo detrás suya hace tan solo un momento.

-¿Jóga? - gritó al voltearse, un grito se escuchó a la distacia y sintió una punzada en su corazón. el tono era demasiado parecido al de Jóga y juraba que estaba justo detrás suya hace tan solo un momento.

Giró por completo, analizando el campo. A su derecha habían aún remanentes del golpe, podía ver a B15 ordenando a las tropas, saciándolas de suplementos que volviera a vitalizarlos. Por todas partes, se abrían puertas temporales y era imposible saber si el que salía era amigo o enemigo.

Basi podía sentir su magia brotando a borbotones por su sangre, el corazón agitado y un hormigueo en todo el cuerpo de la tensión que tenía acumulada. Sabía los peligros de una guerra y le había advertido al agente de ellos, pero era tan necia que se negaba a escucharla.

-¿Jóga? - volvió a preguntar, comenzando a correr en dirección del alarido sin saber si deseaba alargar la llegada para evitar confirmar sus sospechas o correr con cuanta fuerza aún tuviera en sus piernas para llegar cuanto antes.

Girando una esquina tuvo que aferrarse a la columna para frenar, divisándola entre los escombros del abandonado taller. Estaba allí, parada de pie, el time stick aferrado a sus falanges y pudo soltar el aire tensionado en sus pulmones al saber que no había perdido la única arma que comprendía usar.

-¡Jóga! Me diste el peor de los sustos, ¿no te dije que no te alejaras de mí a menos que fuese...? -las palabras dejaron de salir solas de su boca, suspendidas en el aire ante la escena.

Jóga estaba observando una computadora, probablemente perteneciente a Dox, por quien habían empezado todo esto en primer lugar.

La pantalla mostraba un gráfico de la Sagrada Línea Temporal en el medio, rodeada de unas pocas líneas temporales mucho más finas y delicadas en comparación a su alrededor. Basi observó el gráfico con una mirada confusa, faltaban más de la mitad que la última vez que pisaron la TVA y por cada segundo que pasaba observaba como se desintegraban lentamente hasta su raíz, así con cada una.

-¿Jóga? ¿Qué está pasando? ¿Por qué no paran de desaparecer si destruímos su computadora? - con cada palabra, una nueva línea temporal desaparecía, la urgencia cada vez más notoria en sus ojos. Sostuvo la pantalla con ambas manos, intentando golpearla para hacer que se detuviese.

Se escuchó un golpe seco y un par de manos tomaron su antebrazo, siseó pero el tacto era tan delicado que no pudo tomarlo por sorpresa. La expresión de Jóga explicaba la situación por sí misma y estaba a punto de asentir para que no tuviera que sufrir al contar lo que ahora era una realidad.

Pero no pudo deternerla, al igual que jamás podría hacer que se quedara detrás de ella para protegerla. Jóga era un alma libre, que luchaba por sus ideales y ahora entendía por qué era la mejor analista de su rango. Por supuesto que corrió detrás de Dox cuando la vio apresuradamente tipear algo en aquel aparato, por supuesto que iba a ignorar todas y cada una de sus órdenes desesperadas en tanto supiera que las líneas temporales estaban a salvo. Por una vez, podría haberlas salvado. Y no podía imaginar el dolor de verlas desaparecer una por una sin poder hacer absolutamente nada.

-Cuando alcancé a Dox la vi llevarse un pequeño dispositivo, estaba enchufado a la máquina. Intenté deterla pero apenas vi su espalda cuando cruzó la puerta temporal. Debe haber instalado un virus que bloquea el sistema y solo corre en modo automático hasta completar la limpieza.

-Maldita sea -gruñó, la furia comenzando a expandirse en su pecho. Enfurecida por la traición hacia ellos, hacia la TVA y especialmente hacia Jóga, una compañera, con la que se había abierto de compasión, ¿cómo podía hacerle esto a ella? - Maldición, ¿de verdad no podemos hacer nada?

Jóga negó suavemente con la cabeza, a pesar que sabía que sus manos ardían al no poder contener más la magia enfurecida, ella no la había soltado.

-Solo nos queda esperar, dejar que pase el tiempo - su voz era tan gentil. Llegaba a sus oídos como el antídoto del fuego ajetreado, sirviendo para comenzar a apaciguarlo.

-Creo que este es el mejor pie del mundo.

Basi pensaba lo contrario, solo asintió mientras continuaba jugando con los pedazos que habían caído al plato con su tenedor, volteándolo y quitandole la crema para revelar la gelatina ácida y fluorecente.

-Si no piensas disfrutarlo, todavía puedes dármelo a mi -sonrió la analista, comiendo el último trozo de su pastel y recostándose cómodamente en la silla.

-Sabes, entiendo que en la TVA el tiempo funcione diferente pero... toda esta cantidad de azúcar tampoco va a ayudarte en nada, -comenzó a explicar, tomando un pedazo y levantando el metálico utensillo - ¿lo ves? ¿Se supone que ese color es natural?

-Solo quieres quitarle lo divertido a todo -le dijo sonriendo con sorna ante la mueca que hizo Basi por el comentario. Acarició su estómago con la palma de su mano.

-No lo hago, solo sugiero que deberían cambiar la receta.

-¿Te preocupas por mí, corazón?

-Alguien tiene que hacerlo, si fuera por tí, correrías a la boca del lobo en cada oportunidad que tienes -le soltó, arrepitiéndose al instante de haber permitido tropezarse con sus palabras.

Sin embargo la expresión de Jóga no cambió, tan solo ligeramente para mirarle con dulzura. Supuso que entendía a qué se refería y a pesar que realmente comprendía la situación por la cual corrió sin avisar, no podía tolerar el pensamiento de que algo le hubiese pasado.

-Basi, no siempre tuve a una diosa para cuidar de mí, te recuerdo que fui una cazadora antes. Está en mis genes, que haya decidido tomar la vida de analista no significa que esté totalmente desarmada.

-Pero ahora estoy aquí y puedes tomar tu relajada nueva vida con mucha más tranquilidad.

La muchacha volvió a sonreír, un ligero rubor pintando sus mejillas pero Basi no estaba segura si realmente se sonrojó o era la luz cálida que caía sobre su rostro.

-Mira, lo que quise decir es que... Sé que dijiste que no prestara atención a lo que B15 dijo pero... Tiene razón y lo sabes, tu cambio de carrera no fue solo porque te aburriese esa vida, lo necesitabas. Y no quiero decir que no puedas cuidarte sola pero esto es completamente diferente a cualquiera de las misiones que tuviste durante tus tiempos cazando. Esto es una guerra, no estamos limpiendo errores temporales, si no personas. Y sé, mejor que cualquiera en este edificio, que te tiemblan las manos cada vez que tienes que encender ese time stick porque no quieres imaginar contra quién vas a tener que apuntarlo al final del día. Sé que luchas como nadie por esto, porque te lo arreabataron. Sé que si fuese posible que vivieses otra vez en aquella casa, con tus niños, lo harías. Si la TVA no existiese, si tuvieras otra oportunidad, no dudarías en abandonar este lugar. Pero mientras eso no ocurra y las líneas temporales no estén a salvo, vas a luchar por lo que perdiste y preservarlo para quien lo tiene.

Jóga la miró en silencio, escuchando atentamente a cada una de sus palabras, aún recostada sobre la incómda silla de plástico. Era increíble como ella podía adorar este lugar, en donde todo era tan monótono, con pasillos interminables, sillas de plástico de lo más incómodas, pies radioactivos y... su hogar. Que luchó para mantenerlo a salvo. Donde la conoció y por quien este lugar era mejor. El solo hecho de pensar en recorrer los pasillos sin su compañía hacía que quisera vomitar y abrir una puerta temporal a la Tierra lo antes posible.

El pie de ella alcanzó el suyo por debajo de la mesa, acariciando el costado de su zapato lentamente aún manteniendo contacto visual con ella.

-Gracias -le susurró, sus brazos descansando en su regazo, su pecho al descubierto. Por un segundo la imaginó en campo de batalla, tan expuesta de esta forma, podrían atravesar su pecho con una daga en tan solo un segundo. Sin embargo, así se mostraba con ella, dispuesta a enseñarle cómo era por dentro, aceptando su preocupación sin ninguna frustración de su parte, dándole seguridad, otra pequeña caricia sobre su calzado la sacó de sus pensamientos y sin poder evitarlo dio un suave golpe con la punta en la suya, escuchó una risita del otro lado de la mesa - Supongo que tener una diosa que me proteja y me siga como cachorro no es tan malo después de todo.

Ella rió en respuesta, asintiendo lentamente y devolviendo el mimo. Sin entender qué era aquel fuego que subía por su garganta, tan intenso que apenas podía volver a hablarle.

Allí en aquel comedor, ambas eran libres, por tan solo un segundo de aquel destino tan cruel, pensó. Lo necesitaba. Estaba tan agotada, su cuerpo estaba drenado de energía y el único lugar al que podía ir era donde estaba Jóga. Le recordaba por qué estaba luchando, por quién lo hacía. Aquella charla había significado muchísimo para ella y la había repetido miles de veces desde que comenzó a intentar una solución para la catástrofe que parecía no tener fin. Pero esta vez, no necesitó volver hacia atrás de nuevo, esta vez parecía distinto.

-Gracias, Jóga -susurró, sin saber bien por qué, sin saber cómo explicarlo, intentando encontrar las palabras para ver por dónde empezar pero al levantar la mirada solo la vió sonreírle, sin esperar nada más a cambio.

-¿Basi? ¡Basi! - Jóga corrió detrás de ella, chocando contra la puerta que acababa de cerrarse frente a sus ojos, separándolas a ambas. La distancia era insoportable, más aún cuando la chica acababa de encerrarse en una habitación que daba a la Sagrada Línea Temporal a punto de desintegrarse.

La diosa se volteó lentamente, las lágrimas brotaban de sus ojos sin que ella pudiera evitarlo, las mejillas rojizas como cada vez que la tristeza se apoderaba de ella, pero había algo diferente en sus ojos. Una convicción. Eso siempre la asustaba, ella siempre mantenía sus ideas y debates en su cabeza y una vez que estaba segura de algo no había forma de que cambiara de parecer.

-Ya sé qué clase de dios necesito ser, para tí... para todos.

-¿De qué hablas? Sal de ahí, podemos hablar de esto fuera, no tienes que hacer ningún sacrifico divino.

Basilton le sonrió, arqueando sus cejas, como si la compadeciera. Podía notar su labio inferior temblando y cada una de las alertas que habia aprendido a lo largo de los años de observar a Basi estaban saltando. Estaba a punto de comenter una locura, algo se había metido en su cabeza, un plan, estaba segura que debía hacer algo y estaba segura que era esa la razón por la que parecía tenerle pena, como si no entendiera la gravedad de la situación.

-No tenemos más tiempo, Jóga y lo sabes - volvió a hablar, teniendo que alzar la voz en lo que el núcleo comenzaba a azotar en la puerta - no podemos alargarlo más, no importa cuantas veces volvamos a querer expandir la Linea Temporal, nunca va a solucionarlo, me estoy quedando sin ideas y de lo único que estoy segura es que por una vez, voy a hacer lo que es correcto.

-¿Quedarte sin ideas? ¿De qué estás hablando? Todo este plan lo ideamos juntos, es la primera vez que fallamos, tenemos que irnos o vamos a...

-Jóga... -habló con gentileza, algo que solo consiguió exasperarla más - soy una diosa, dominé mis deslizos en el tiempo y puedo viajar al pasado una y otra y otra vez. - la analista soltó una maldición, no podía ser cierto. Basi rió al observar su reacción - Supongo que entendiste qué significa.

-¿Cuántas veces viviste esto mismo? - Basi suspiró y bajó la mirada, a través del cristal se veía como una niña pequeña temblando del miedo, como la primera vez que entró a la TVA - Basi, mírame, ¿cuántas veces?

Con los puños apretados, subió la mirada, clavando los ojos en los profundos canela de la analista - Más de siete millones de años - Jóga sintió que las piernas le temblaban - Intenté de todas las formas posibles, acelerando todo el proceso, llegando antes, mandando a Victor una y otra vez por la plataforma - comenzó a reír- incluso aprendí todo acerca de física e ingeniería para poder crear yo misma el expansor... Ni eso funcionó... Te vi desitegrarte una y otra y otra vez. Volví en el tiempo a todos los momentos donde estábamos juntas para no perder la cordura, aunque creo que ya me estoy quedando sin - peinó su cabello hacia atrás, largos mechones azabaches como la noche - gracias a tí, aprendí que existen sacrificos que valen la pena cometer. No soporto vivir con la carga de saber que no importa cuánto intento, siempre vas a morir. Esta es mi última jugada y espero me perdones - eso fue lo último que escuchó de ella, se volteó dándole la espalda y extendió sus manos hasta la puerta.

Jóga comenzó a patear el metal, intentando tirar lo más posible hasta que se abriera, lo que fuera para poder deterla.

Pero era muy tarde. El brillo cegador del núcleo llegó a sus ojos y la obligó a levantar la mirada, desesperada por verla otra vez.

Basilton cruzó el puente, las ondas temporales chocando contra su cuerpo, desintegrando el uniforme que llevaba usando desde su llegada a la TVA, que significaba un equipo, que la unía a Jóga. A tirones, pedazos de su camisa y pantalones salían disparados de su cuerpo, revelando debajo de sí un traje verde musgo que pareciera escondido debajo del antiguo vestuario.

La radiación de las líneas temporales destruyen todo y solo dejan ver la forma infinita, escondido debajo de su disfraz humano, una alargada capa comenzó a alzarse, sacudiéndose por el huracán que la rodeaba. Dos largos cuernos crecieron de su cabeza, la forma más pura de su naturaleza, su forma de diosa. Jóga suspiró colocando una mano en el cristal, recordando todos los archivos que había visto y como ninguno se comparaba a verlo en la realidad.

Con su magia, Basilton rompió los anillos que guardaban la Sagrada Línea Temporal, dejando que el espacio comenzara a teñirse de un verde opaco, completamente lleno de su magia.

Se acercó a tomar una de las ramas temporales, por las que Jóga había luchado tanto para mantener vivas, por millones de vidas humanas, incluyendo la de Jóga. Recordó la charla que tuvieron acerca de ello, como las palabras escapaban de su boca, su pasión y seguridad de que eso era lo que debían proteger en vez de destruír. Al rodearla con su palma, su magia la bañó de protección y podía sentir en cada fibra de su cuerpo todos los corazones que latían, el aire, el agua, las risas, los recuerdos que estaban formándose.

La soltó con suavidad, sonriendo de que por fin todo había terminado pero apenas la dejó flotar, se drenó de color. Toda la vida y su energía parecía que morían sin la ayuda de su magia.

-¿Qué está pasando? - gritó OB desde el cuarto auxiliar, donde todos estaban observando lo que sucedía.

-Las líneas están muriendo... -respondió Jóga - el núcleo las mantenía con vida, con energía, sin una fuente que las nutra... se apagan - y al mismo tiempo que pronunciaba las palabras, sus ojos y los de Basi de encontraron. A pesar de que la diosa no podía oír nada de lo que estaban hablando, a pesar de la horrorosa distancia, la verdad cayó sobre ambas como un balde de agua congelada y lo único que podían hacer era mirarse - Oh no...

Basilton no lo dudó, tomando una por una las líneas temporales, dejó que se enredaras por su capa, por sus piernas, caminó el largo tramo hasta el final de los tiempos cargando con ellas. Su magia fluía por todo su cuerpo, era un éxtasis que jamás había sentido, llenaba de vida a cada rama y las sentía como su fuesen sus propias venas.

Valía la pena.

Cada segundo, por saber que Jóga podría tener otra oportunidad.

#lokius as jósi #angst #they are in love yet they'll never say #human x god #must be my favorite genre of all #sacrifices must be made #for the person who deserves them all

[buck-yyyy]

i feel Very Weird

#i’m not. sad #i’m…….. mourning? grieving? scared? #i wish i could be a girl and i wish i could be a happy like that #i hate this weird in between state where i don’t fit in on either side #and i really hate having to hide but god i don’t want people to know #i’m scared shitless of my brain and the stupid halfway eating disorder and the paranoia and the hallucinations #i spent yesterday scratching and smacking at my skin because i kept feeling spiders that weren’t there crawl across my arms #one went from behind my ear to on top of my eye. it was awful #and the worst part is that i have to deal with all the random assorted symptoms and i can’t even get help to figure out what’s wrong with me #because how do i go to my parents (the people who are convinced that anxiety and a lack of appetite are the extent of #my mental health problems) and say ‘hi mom hi dad i hear and feel things that aren’t there and i’m paranoid nearly constantly and i have #these awful terrifying episodes where i lose my grip on reality. sorry for not telling you sooner’ #i can’t do that #i just. can’t. #and my memory is getting worse and i can’t interact with my favorite genre and it just makes me want to sob my eyes out because i want to be #who i was who never had to think about this shit. i don’t want to be this fucked up disaster of a person that i am now #i’m just so tired #tw vent

[brown-bi-beautiful]

Night After Night

Established relationship au

Pairing: Fuckboy bf! Jungkook x Reader

MINORS DNI

Genre: lovers to exes to exes to lovers, Mostly crack, fluff, and smut but a little bit of angst because I'm a bitch.

Words : 17.6k

Summary: "Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is".... You broke up with your boyfriend because he couldn't let go of his fuckboy antiques now he's gonna win you back whatever it takes.

Warnings: Toxic relationships, Jungkook is the biggest red flag but we love him, SMUT [ ITS FILTHYYY, FINGERING, ORAL SEX (Both receiving), PENETRATIVE SEX ( Vaginal), UNPROTECTED SEX (Don't be stupid like Jungkook, please)].

A/n: This is unedited, no proof reading done.

*******

For the thousandth time this evening, you couldn't help but roll your eyes as you witnessed your boyfriend, once again, openly flirting with another girl in your presence. It wasn't as if he was unaware of your presence, and he wasn't doing it secretly behind your back either. He knew very well that you were right there, and the irony was that he was supposed to fetch you a drink when he stumbled upon a pair of boobs on the way.

'Baby, it will be fun,' he had said when he insisted on taking you to this party. Yet now, you found yourself sitting awkwardly on a filthy couch, uncomfortably witnessing two guys passionately making out while your so-called boyfriend indulged in flirting with the brunette, who had her hands all over his biceps. You could bet a million dollars that he was flexing them right now.

When you first met Jungkook in your college, he had the title of the biggest fuckboy of the campus and a snap score of 3 million, yes 3 million and if that's not the biggest red flag then what is? But despite the fuckboy behaviour he was a decent person. After trying (and succeeding) to get in your pants at the frat party you first met, he asked you out on a date. And of course you said yes. He gave you the full date experience, in fact it was one of the best dates you had in a while.

He took you to the movies and was respectful, keeping his hands to himself throughout the outing. During the date, he took care of you, ensuring you were well-fed and enjoyed yourself. Afterward, he even made the extra effort to drive you home in his own car, instead of that death ride he usually brings to college. He was so determined to show you that it wasn't just about sex that he didn't even insist on kissing you at your door, it was you who dragged him inside by his collar to fuck you senseless.

Jungkook surprised you, everyone else and himself when he asked you to be his girlfriend only after three dates. And he was really really sweet so you said yes. To show you how devoted he was to you and how he only had eyes for you he didn't even look at other girls let alone flirt with. But that only lasted for two months. Yes, once a fuckboy always a fuckboy. Although Jungkook remained faithful and never slept with anyone else or outright cheated on you, he still indulged in flirting and entertaining any other woman he found even remotely attractive.

Initially, you tried to dismiss it as harmless flirting, but as time went on, the situation became increasingly unbearable. The only thing preventing you from ending the relationship was the fact that he genuinely loved you. Jungkook proclaimed his love for you just three months into the relationship, whereas it took you more than six months to reciprocate those feelings.

You knew Jungkook loved you because he never failed to show you. God, the extremities that boy has gone to show you how much he loves you. One time he ran 12 miles to get to you because you sprained your ankle and was in the hospital and his car was stuck in traffic. Later he ended up fainting from exertion and you found yourself taking care of him instead. It was still really sweet gesture from him.

Once Jungkook managed to free himself from the other girl's company and arrived with a big smile and your favorite beer in hand, you promptly got up and headed towards the front door, leaving your boyfriend behind in confusion.

"Where are you going?" Jungkook asked, following you outside.

"Home." You were already ordering an uber.

"We are leaving already?"

"No, Jungkook. I am leaving already."

"But why? We were having fun."

"Again, no. You were having fun, I was just asked by two guys if I wanted to have a threesome."

"What guys?" Oh the hypocrisy.

"That's not the point JK," you finally snapped, turning to confront your boyfriend. "You're the one who dragged me to this pathetic party, and instead of being there with me, you spent 20 minutes flirting with some random chick."

"Baby, you know that was harmless."

"Again with that FUCKING EXCUSE."

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry, ok? You know I only have eyes for you. I don't even remember her name."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? I'm leaving."

"Let me take you home, ok?"

"I already booked a ride."

"No, those things are dangerous at night. I'm not letting you leave in a cab," he insisted, without waiting for your reply he led you to the parking lot where his Harley was parked. Without any further protests, you let him firmly place your helmet on your head. Within just a month of dating, Jungkook had already arranged customised helmets for both of you as a couple. Though it might have seemed a bit tacky to some, it was his way of expressing a significant commitment, almost like a symbol of marriage in his eyes.

The ride was silent. Only him rubbing your thighs once in a while. You had time to think the whole ride. Contemplate every situation till now that has led up to this moment. Every time that he had flirted with other women and made you feel like shit, invisible. Every time he says 'oh but baby, at the end of the day I come back to you.' You have decided. You were done feeling like shit.

As the motorcycle came to a halt, you realized he had brought you to his place instead of your own. While you hadn't officially moved in together, it felt like you practically had, given the amount of time you spent there and the belongings you had at his place. The fact that he took you there didn't even surprise you; it was a place that felt like 'home' to both of you.

"Jungkook why'd you take me to your place. I said take me home."

"This is home, baby." He said helping you off his bike and taking off both of your helmets. "Let's just go upstairs and talk this out, then I'll make you cum and we'll go to sleep."

The short elevator ride to the upstairs apartment felt much longer, with neither of you uttering a word. As you entered and took off your jackets, you let out a sigh. The impending conversation was something you had been dreading, but you knew there was no other option; it had to be done. The atmosphere was heavy with tension as you prepared to address the issues that had been bothering you.

"Jungkook."

"Baby." He mocked your tone.

"Sit down." You pointed at the couch.

"Is this an intervention?" He asked with a grin.

"Just sit." He followed your order and stared at you with those big doe eyes that stopped you from breaking up with him until now. "I love this POV. Your tits look amazing."

"Jungkook, be serious."

"Why, do you keep calling me Jungkook. It's Koo and Baby for you."

Ignoring the comment you continued with your speech.

"Jungkook... I, I don't think this is working anymore." You said.

"What is not working? Baby, we're fine."

"No we're not. I've been waiting for you to grow out of this...fuckboy phase but it's been three years, Jungkook and you still haven't changed. It's even worse now."

"Come on, is this about Ally?"

"So you do remember her name."

"Does it matter? It was just some harmless flirting, I swear. I even told her I have a girlfriend."

"Oh, I'm so flattered," you retorted, the sarcasm evident in your voice, which seemed to annoy him slightly. Your frustration and displeasure were clear, as you couldn't overlook the impact of his behavior on your feelings.

"Look, what am I supposed to do? Stop talking to women? Is that what you want?"

"Oh my god, do you not see?" you exclaimed, your emotions pouring out. "You entertain them and flirt with them, and it makes me feel terrible, Jungkook. I'm your girlfriend, yet you don't even bother to introduce me to these women. And you call it harmless flirting? What about this?" You pulled out a piece of paper from his front pocket, confronting him with evidence of his actions.

"I had no idea she slipped it in my pocket."

"I saw you take it from her."

"But I was not going to call. I swear, baby. You know I would never. I only took that so-"

"So what? So she would wait around the whole night for you to call? That's even worse."

"Babe, look. I'm sorry. I'll do anything you want me to do. I made a mistake and I won't do it again, I promise. I swear on it."

"You don't have to. You can call her if you want to. We are done here," you declared firmly, your decision made. His eyes widened in response to your decisive words, realizing the gravity of the situation.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm breaking up with you, Jungkook. It's just not working for me anymore. I'm so tired of your behavior," you expressed with a heavy heart. He was now on his knees before you, tears welling up in his eyes but not yet streaming down his cheeks. Despite the pain, you knew that ending the relationship was the best decision for your well-being and emotional health.

"No no, baby, no. We are not breaking up."

"No. Jungkook we're done."

"No."

"What do you mean no? This is not how it works."

"I'll be better, ok? I promise. Please don't break up with me. I can't live without you. Please. I'll do anything you want. I'll prove it to you." The tears were falling down now. And as much as it hurt to watch him cry you were going to stand firm on your decision. "Let me make it up to you, baby. Please." When his shaking lips made contact with yours you couldn't push him away. One last time wouldn't hurt right? Maybe you'll give him this one last time. God knows he needed this. You needed this.

So you let him. Didn't stop him when he picked you up and took you to yo- his bedroom, Laid you down on his bed, undressed you. You didn't stop him when he kissed down your body, brought you to your high with his mouth. You let him love you one last time.

******

Breaking up with Jungkook had been difficult, and it's been a week since then. The impact of the breakup weighed heavily on you as well, despite your decision being the right one. You cared deeply for him, though maybe not to the same extreme extent as he did for you, it seemed his love for you bordered on being overly intense and possibly unhealthy.

The breakup had also left you feeling deeply saddened and missing him greatly. However, the impact on Jungkook was even more profound, and describing it as devastating would be an understatement. The next day, as you began getting ready to leave, you noticed Jungkook gazing at you with a lost and vulnerable expression, like a bewildered bunny. It was heartbreaking to witness, and you had to gently remind him that you had broken up with him the night before. The pain of the breakup was evident in his eyes, and it made the situation even more challenging for both of you.

"But, baby we had sex."

"Sex doesn't fix everything, Jungkook. I'm still breaking up with you. It was goodbye sex."

Jungkook was frantic when he realised you were serious about the breakup. Begged you to stay but you had already made up your mind.

Seeing the overwhelming number of missed calls and text messages from your ex-boyfriend, you let out a sigh. Despite the breakup, he was persistently trying to reach out to you, with all the messages saying almost the same thing. While you believed that blocking someone was immature and didn't want to stoop to that level, his relentless badgering was becoming too much to handle. If he continued this behavior, you might eventually have no choice but to block him on your contacts and social media platforms.

As your phone blared for the 58th time, your coworkers shot glares in your direction, clearly annoyed by the constant interruptions. Feeling apologetic, you flashed them a smile and finally picked up the phone.

"I swear to god, Jungkook. I will block you if you don't stop calling me."

"Baby-"

"No, Jungkook. No baby. We broke up remember?"

"You broke up with me, I never accepted it. You're still my baby."

"Jungkook I'm serious. Stop calling me. I will block you."

"You won't."

"Try me."

"Come outside?"

"What? Kook, I'm not home."

"I know. I'm outside your office. They won't let me in."

"Yes I told them not to. What are you doing here? Jungkook you have a job too, you know that right?"

"I know. But it's not important right now."

"Not important right now? That's your only source of income." You reminded him, resting your forehead on your hand.

"I don't care. What will I do with the money if you're not with me?"

"Pay your bills?"

"Come outside. I wanna see you."

"I can't. I already had my lunch break. Look, Jungkook, just go back home, ok? Don't do this to yourself. I'm hanging up. Don't call me again or I will block you." You ended the call without waiting for a reply, and the calls finally stopped, but the messages persisted. Deciding it was necessary for your peace of mind, you muted his contact to temporarily shield yourself from the continuous messages.

It was 4 hours later you were exiting the office building with your coworkers when one of them pointed something out.

"Is that Jungkook?" Sherry said and you turned your attention to where she was pointing, and to your surprise, there was Jungkook sitting on one of the benches just outside the building. He stood up with a hopeful smile and waved at you as you approached. His unexpected appearance caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions at seeing him again after the breakup.

"You guys go. I'll talk to him."

As your coworkers questioned if you were okay, you gave a simple nod to reassure them. However, you couldn't hide the glare in your eyes as Jungkook approached you. The mix of emotions inside you was evident, but you tried your best to maintain composure in front of your colleagues.

"What are you still doing here, Kook?"

"Well you told me not to call you again and your guard wouldn't let me in so I had no other option."

"Yes you did. You had the option to go home."

"But I wanted to see you." Oh god it was frustrating. You are not even surprised that he's acting like a child. He has always been like this, nagging and pestering until you give him what he wants. You are actually more surprised by the fact that he waited a whole week before showing up at your workplace.

"So what you just wait here for 4 hours?"

"No .. 8 hours. I've been here since morning."

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

"No. Ask your guards. We are friends now." You closed your eyes to calm yourself.

You spoke with concern in your voice, realizing that Jungkook's actions were not healthy for him. "Jungkook, this is not healthy… Why are you doing this to yourself?" you asked, genuinely worried about the toll the breakup was taking on him. You understood that he was struggling with the situation, but his continuous attempts to contact you were not helping anybody.

"Baby, I'll do anything to prove to you that I want you back."

You expressed firmly, "That's not going to change anything. We are not getting back together." You reiterated your stance, hoping he would come to accept it and eventually find a way to move forward.

"You're saying that now."

"No. My answer is not going to change." He looked unconvinced. "At least tell me you ate something?" a small smile crept across your face as you heard his stomach loudly grumble in response to your question. You decided to set aside your differences momentarily and focus on making sure he was okay in the present moment.

"You still care about me?" Of course you still cared about him. You didn't break up with him because you don't love him anymore, you broke up because he was an asshole and you realised he was never going to change. And you have to keep reminding yourself that. He's never going to change.

"Where's your bike?"

"I didn't bring it. I don't like riding without you holding me."

"Did you bring your car at least?"

"I walked."

"You walked?"

"I figured that when you come back to me, we'd have to deal with the hassle of taking both of our cars back home and riding separately, which I didn't want to go through. So, I decided to walk instead."

"You're unbelievable." He just smiled at you as if it was a compliment. All you wanted was to go home, miss him to death and cry yourself to sleep while holding his old shirt. Was it too much to ask?

His stomach grumbled again. As if asking you to feed him. Jungkook knew he was not only torturing himself but you as well. Was this his strategy? Annoy you back in his arms?

"Fine. Let's go?"

"Are you taking me home?"

"No. I'm taking you to eat something."

"Then you're taking me home so I can fuck some sense into you and we can get past this?"

"You know what? I'm leaving. Die starving."

"No I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please feed me."

Despite your current feelings of frustration and hurt towards Jungkook, you chose to bring him to your home that night. It wasn't for any romantic reasons or to give in to his demands. Instead, you prepared a home-cooked meal for him, knowing that he likely hadn't been eating well, surviving on ramen, cereal, and a whole lot of alcohol. And you couldn't let him go to sleep hungry, so you set aside your emotions and cared for him, making sure he had a satisfying and enjoyable meal.

*******

"You know you can't take him back right? He's very toxic for you."

On that Sunday evening, you and your best friend, Jimin, had a movie night planned to lift your spirits. The hot topic of discussion was none other than Jeon Jungkook. Unlike the rest of your friends from college who always cheered for your relationship with Jungkook, Jimin was the only one who never rooted for you two. He had always expressed his concerns about Jungkook, labeling him as toxic, and reminding you that you deserved better. Back in college, you used to get upset with him, feeling he was always negative. Ironically, as time passed, you realized that Jimin was the only one who consistently stuck by your side, while your other friends became distant.

"I know I know. But you should have seen his face, Jimin. I felt like I kicked a puppy."

"So you just took him back to your place?"

"Only to feed him, I kicked him out after, I swear."

"Really?" Jimin asked, keenly observing the guilty expression on your face. He had an uncanny ability to detect when you were lying, almost like a human lie detector. You knew you couldn't hide anything from him, and in this moment, you couldn't escape his discerning gaze.

"Ok, fine, He did stay longer than I initially said," you admitted, knowing that Jimin could see through your attempt to hide the whole truth. His raised eyebrow made it clear that he was onto you. You confessed, knowing you couldn't keep anything from your perceptive friend. "We might have had sex on the kitchen counter... And the couch... And my bedroom. But I swear that's it. I'm not lying, I kicked him out and told him it was a mistake right after. Didn't even wait till morning."

The way Jimin said your name almost made you hide out of shame. "You can't retaliate. What happened to 'we are never getting back together'? Taylor Swift will be very disappointed in you."

"I know. I know, it was wrong. It was just a moment of weakness. I swear to god it won't happen again."

Feeling guilty and conflicted after Jungkook left, you realized he might have misunderstood, thinking there was still a chance but you were still determined to not give him another one. You knew you shouldn't have done what you did that night but God did it feel good. You knew for a fact that Jungkook had already ruined you sexually for any other men or your hands or even your vibrator. You tried doing it three times after breaking up with him but not once could you bring yourself to orgasm. You just gave up after the third time, just accepted the fact that you're not going to have an orgasm ever again. People live without having orgasms right?

That is why, when Jungkook stood so close to you last night, your body seemed to betray your intentions, and you found it hard to resist him. The lingering emotions and history between you both created a pull that was difficult to ignore.

As you cleaned up the kitchen after feeding Jungkook, you hoped he would leave soon. Knowing his tendencies, you knew he would try to sneak into your bed if you went to sleep while he was still there. So, you waited for the right moment to gather enough courage to kick him out. However, Jungkook had different plans in mind. Sneaking up behind you, he cornered you against the kitchen island, catching you by surprise. The close proximity left you heavy breathed and questioning your own decision.

In the heat of the moment, everything felt like a blur, and you couldn't recall who initiated the first move or who kissed whom first. It all happened so quickly. One second he was thanking you for the dinner, and the next, he was kissing you passionately, pulling you into the moment so deeply that you momentarily forgot about the complexities of your situation. You only remember how you were so desperate that neither of you even bothered undressing completely before he thrusted deep into you on that kitchen counter. You only remember cumming as he carried you to the couch and you rode him there. You only remember him slowly laying you down on your bed and making love to you.

"You're right, Jimin. I need to be stronger. I can't let him get to me like this. You know what? Next time, I'm not even going to look at his way if he shows up."

"Yes, that's the spirit. Ignore him like all those times he ignored you while flirting with that girl from the boba place." The expression of your face immediately turned sour after hearing his words. "I'm sorry. Too soon?" You only nodded in response.

"I can't believe I kept giving him chances after chances for so long. I should've listened to you in the first place; guys like Jungkook never change," you admitted, feeling regretful for not heeding Jimin's advice earlier. Reflecting on the past, you realized that you had been hopeful that Jungkook would change, but now you understood that some people's behaviors remain consistent despite the chances they are given.

"It's still not too late." As if on cue, there were a series of knocks on your front door, and you knew all too well who it was. The familiarity of Jungkook's knocking left you feeling a mix of emotions. Gosh, was it pathetic that you could tell Jungkook from the way he knocks? "Did you order something?" Jimin asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed the look on your face.

"No. It's Jungkook."

"How do you know."

"I know." The knocks grew more impatient.

"Should we not open the door?"

"No. Let's ignore him." You said turning up the volume of your tv.

"Baby, did you change the locks? My key's not working." Instead of asking Jungkook to give back your keys you had settled for the less agonizing option and got your locks changed.

"Let's just pretend that we're not home," you suggested to your best friend. Hoping to avoid any confrontation, you both waited until the knocks finally stopped after what seemed like five minutes. Relieved, you thought your plan had worked, and you both resumed watching the movie. Unbeknownst to you, your ex-boyfriend had other plans and was determined to come inside some other way if you didn't let him in.

Jungkook had never been one to give up easily, whether it was in sports, academics, or winning back his girlfriend. He was determined to do whatever it took to have you back in his arms. Realizing his mistakes, he was now ready to redeem himself. Jungkook had heard about grand romantic gestures that people used to prove their love, and he was determined to do the same for you. Some people run through airports to stop the love of their life, while others write a hundred letters to confess their love. In Jungkook's case, he was willing to risk his life and climb seven floors to reach you, showing the depth of his determination to make things right.

Both you and Jimin were startled as the silence was broken by loud knocks on your bedroom window. The sudden sound startled both you and Jimin as you looked at each other thinking the other might have the answer.

"Is that-?" Jimin couldn't even finish his sentence before you swiftly got up and ran towards your bedroom. It was indeed Jungkook hanging outside your bedroom window.

"Oh my god, Jungkook, are you fucking kidding me?" You quickly opened the windows, concerned that he might fall and get seriously hurt. Jimin followed you to your bedroom and raised his eyebrows at the scene in front of him. You were screaming at Jungkook while he tried to explain himself, hanging from the window.

"This is what I've always been talking about," you continued in frustration, "You always act like a fucking child, doing ridiculous things to get your way. It's just ridiculous. You can't always get whatever you want by pulling stunts like this. You could seriously get injured, you seem to have no regard for yourself or anyone else. I'm so fuc-"

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?"

"None of your business. I want to talk to my girlfriend."

"Ex girlfriend."

"I said none of your business."

"Seriously, what the hell are you doing?" This time it was you asking, exasperated, as Jungkook continued to hang from the flimsy pipe outside your window. The precarious situation he put himself in only added to your frustration and concern.

"You weren't opening the door, what was I supposed to do?"

"NOT CLIMB UP THE FUCKING WALL LIKE A CREEP?"

"Can I please come in now? I don't think I can hold on to this pipe much longer." You and Jimin quickly helped the boy inside.

"Chim, can you please wait outside? I need to talk to him," you requested, and Jimin obliged, but not before warning Jungkook not to try anything or he would kick his ass. Jimin might have been smaller than your ex in size but damn that man can fight. With Jimin gone, you turned your attention back to Jungkook, ready to confront him about his reckless behavior and demand some answers.

"Care to explain yourself?"

"Baby, I miss you. So fucking much. You have no idea."

"This is insane. You have to know you're crossing a line, Jungkook. Not only are you acting like a fucking child, you're also putting your own life in danger."

"I know, I know I'm acting crazy. But how else do I show you how much you mean to me."

"Jungkook, if I meant to you that much you wouldn't make me feel like a shit in the first place."

"And I am sorry about that. I promise to be better, I wouldn't look at another woman ever again."

"Do you realize how many times we've had this conversation? It's too many, Jungkook," you expressed, "You always say the same things, but then you repeat the same mistakes all over again. I can't keep going back to you; it's just not healthy for either of us," you firmly stated, making it clear that you were determined to break this cycle and move on from the relationship.

"Baby, pl-" he walked closer to you only for you to back away.

"And you need to stop acting like this. You can't always act on impulse, you could've seriously hurt yourself."

"It's nothing. It's not that high anyway."

"It's seven floors."

"Actually, 8. I miscalculated, and well, you might wanna avoid Mrs. Katz for a while," Jungkook admitted with a hint of amusement in his voice. Despite the seriousness of the situation, you couldn't help but laugh a little at his confession. Oh how much he had missed your laugh, he has always told you that you have the most beautiful laugh he has ever heard and to go without hearing it for more than a week? It's just torture.

"You have to leave."

"At least let-"

"No. Jungkook please, I can't do this. Not right now. You have to go," you said running your hands through your hair. "I miss you too, I really do. You have to understand that this is hard for me as well. And you doing all these things is not making anything easier. So please, for me, just leave." A single drop of tear fell down your left eye, you didn't have it in you anymore to back away as he walked toward you.

"Fine, I'll go now. But I won't stop," he declared, stopping right in front of you. "I won't stop until you realize that you're the one that I want. I won't stop until I convince you that you're the one for me, and I love you more than anything in this world. I'm not giving up on you, on us, baby. I don't care how long it takes, I'll beg you every day if I have to, but I won't stop until you come back to me."

His words were sincere, and you could see the determination in his eyes. A part of you desperately wanted to give in, to feel his embrace again, but you were also afraid. Afraid of going through the same cycle, afraid of getting hurt again. The conflict between your heart and mind was tearing you apart as you stood there, facing the man you still loved, but uncertain of what to do next.

He leaned closer, and you instinctively closed your eyes, expecting a kiss, but instead, you felt a light brush of his lips against your forehead. His touch was gentle, his thumbs wiping away your tears, and his lips seemingly kissing the tension away. He stayed like that for a few seconds, leaving you with mixed emotions as he showered you with affection. And with that, he left, not sparing a glance at the man in your living room. As he walked away, you couldn't help but feel a whirlwind of emotions, torn between the love you still held for him and the need to protect yourself from potential heartache.

Like a good friend, Park Jimin didn't ask you any questions. He simply held you close, providing a comforting embrace as you sniffed against his chest all night.

*******

It's been almost a week since that conversation you had with Jungkook in your bedroom, and it's now apparent that you have a stalker. He's been following you around like a lost puppy for the better part of the week. At first, it was annoying, and you had frequent arguments with him about his behavior. But as the days passed, you've grown somewhat accustomed to his presence. Now, you mostly ignore him as he follows you around the city, giving him only the occasional side-eye before continuing with your daily routine.

Jungkook's constant presence has become both annoying and puzzling. You're not sure how he manages to track your every move or who leaked your information to him, but he seems to be everywhere. If you were riding the subway he was there sitting across you, if you were in a bar with your friends he was there scaring away all the guys that approached you, even when you were on office lunches he was sitting two tables away smiling at you. If it was anyone else it would have been creepy and you would hand them to the police but with Jungkook, sure it was annoying but also... Cute?

Sometimes he approaches you to say something or brings you flowers, while other times he simply waves at you from a distance or quietly observes you while you talk to your friends at a restaurant, much like he is doing now.

"Not to alarm you or anything but there's a really really hot but kinda creepy guy has been following us for 20 minutes now, I'm guessing more but I have only noticed him for 20," Mia was new in the city and in your office, she was also one of your only colleagues who has never seen Jungkook or didn't know who he was. Today you have taken Mia out for lunch and to show her around the city like she so politely asked you a few days ago.

"Don't look right now, but he's standing across the street, and he's looking right at you," Mia whispered, her tone laced with concern. "Should we lead him to the police station?"

Her words of concern brought a chuckle from you, which seemed to confuse Mia. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you, as Jungkook's persistent presence had become a bizarre and somewhat amusing part of your daily life. While Mia saw him as a potential threat, you couldn't help but find his actions, however creepy they might be, somewhat endearing. You assured Mia that you could handle the situation and that there was no need to involve the police.

You turned around to see Jungkook holding a roughly wrapped bundle of sunflowers and waving at you as soon as your eyes met. Of course you didn't bother to wave back.

"Don't worry, he's... he's harmless."

"Do you know that guy?"

"Yeah... Well it wouldn't sound very good if I say it. He's my ex boyfriend."

"Oh my god. Is he stalking you? Shouldn't you report him or something?"

"Oh no, no. Like I said, Jungkook is very harmless. To others… Very harmful for himself, though," you added with a mix of concern and amusement as Jungkook clumsily ran to cross the street, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a car in the process.

As you and Mia continued walking, she looked back and forth between you and Jungkook, clearly unsure of how to react in this unusual situation. You could understand her confusion, as dealing with Jungkook's persistent presence was not something you had ever expected to be a part of your daily routine.

Jungkook finally spoke up when he got closer, saying, "I know you saw me."

"Then you must know that I'm ignoring you."

"You look gorgeous." The simple compliment caused a blush to creep up from your neck, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in response to Jungkook's words.

"I know."

"Babe, talk to me. Then I won't bother you the whole day. I promise." Jungkook's plea made you stop in your tracks, and even the girl beside you seemed surprised by your response, as you decided to give him a moment to talk.

"Fine. Talk," you said, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly signaling your skepticism but still willing to hear him out.

"Uhhh..." Jungkook hesitated, caught off guard by your willingness to listen. He struggled to find the right words, unsure of what to say beyond the usual apologies and expressions of missing you.

"These are for you." He said offering you the sunflowers. "You love them."

"You remember that?" It was surprising honestly, you weren't expecting Jungkook to remember some minute detail you mentioned in the passing.

What's more surprising is that Jungkook's eyes not once has drifted to the girl standing awkwardly beside you. To simply say that Mia was beautiful would be the understatement of the century. She was one of the most gorgeous women you've ever laid eyes on and had the body of a goddess. Honestly she made you doubt your sexuality for a second so the fact that Jungkook didn't even spare a glance at her was really surprising. Probably because he knows you'd be watching him like a hawk if he did but still, it's progress right?

"I do."

"By the way, this is Mia. My new colleague. Mia, this is Jungkook, my boyfrie...ex-boyfriend," you corrected yourself, catching Jungkook's reaction as his face seemed to brighten momentarily at your slip.

"I would say nice to meet you if you weren't being creepy and stalking us."

"He wasn't stalking us," you said, feeling a sudden urge to defend Jungkook, even though you were trying to keep your distance from him. "Stalking is a form of harassment, and I do not feel even slightly harassed by this man. He knows me and he wanted to talk to me, so he followed me here. You have no right to call him a stalker." Both Jungkook and Mia seemed taken aback by your strong defense of him.

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't know-"

"It's okay. Actually, there's the restaurant. I already made a reservation under my name. You should go in; I'll catch up with you in a sec," you said and Mia gave you a polite smile before walking towards the restaurant. As she left, you turned back to Jungkook and noticed his gaze fixed on you. There was no ogling of her ass as she walked away. Progress, you thought to yourself.

"What are you smiling at?"

"I love you." He said giving you those lovestruck puppy eyes.

"Shut up."

"You really do look gorgeous today," Jungkook said, and you couldn't help but look down at your simple outfit—a plain beige shirt and brown work pants. He thinks you look gorgeous in this boring ass outfit? You didn't think there was anything special about it. "You really do," he insisted. "I'm not just saying it to kiss up to you."

"What do you wanted to talk about?" you asked, brushing off his compliment and getting back to the point.

"You left some stuff at the apartment. They seem important. If you want I can bring them back to your place... or you can come by. Anytime." Your heart did drop a little. He wants you to pick your stuff up from his apartment? What happened to I'll try as long as it takes? Sure you're planning on getting those back anyway but hearing him say that... hurts a little.

"I can come pick them up. If you're around tonight. I'll also bring your key, I still have it." Why did saying it felt so official?

"Yeah cool..."

*******

Oh god it was so not cool. Jungkook was freaking the fuck out. The reality was sinking in, and it was not cool at all. You were going to pick up your stuff, and it felt like the official end was approaching. Until now, it felt like a temporary fight, where he could apologize and you'd come back to him. But now, it felt like a real breakup, and it was hitting him hard.

"Why the fuck did I have to say that? WHY THE FUCK? I'm such a fucking tool. I could have said anything, literally anything and what did I say? Pick your stuff up from my apartment. Why the fuck didn't I just get hit by that damn car instead?"

"Kook, calm down."

"What the fuck you mean calm down? She's gonna be here in two hours or something and she's gonna take the last pieces of her from this apartment and my miserable life and then she's gonna move on while I'll probably die alone because I can't ever love anybody as much as I love her." By the end of his rant all three of his hyungs were looking at him with mouth hung open.

"Bro, you've got issues."

"You think?" Jungkook sarcastically asked as he paused his pacing around the living room for a moment. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok, Jungkook's best friends, were gathered around him in the living room as the youngest ranted to them for an hour. Jungkook had called them as soon as he got back to his apartment, seeking their help to salvage the remaining pieces of his love life. True to their friendship, they all showed up within an hour. However, so far, none of them had been even slightly helpful, and Jungkook was now two bottles of wine down.

"Here's an idea," Hoseok offered. "Don't open the door when she comes here, she's gonna think you invited her and forgot, hence she can't take her stuff." All three men looked at Hoseok.

"Yes, Kook. And punch her dog while you're at it." Namjoon scoffed.

"At least I'm giving some advice. You guys are useless."

"Yes, Hobi hyung. And I appreciate that. But she already has a key she's just gonna get in and take her stuff and leave."

Yoongi finally broke his silence, offering his perspective. "You know what, JK? If she can't already see the efforts, maybe she's not worth it. You already spent a week following her around like a puppy, and she doesn't have the decency to acknowledge your efforts?" His words held a hint of frustration, clearly disappointed in your lack of response to Jungkook's attempts to win you back.

"She has every right to be mad at me. I was a horrible boyfriend. A week is nothing, even if it takes a year I'm still gonna try to do everything I can. And what efforts? All I've done is stalk her around, probably even made her uncomfortable."

"I agree with Yoongi, Jungkook. Maybe it's a sign that you should consider moving on," Namjoon gently suggested, feeling sympathy for his young friend. He had never seen Jungkook so frustrated and heartbroken before; usually, he has always been the life of the party, bringing joy to everyone around him. Witnessing him like this was truly disheartening.

"No, you guys don't understand. I love her. You know why I was always carefree about the future? Because I always knew it was her, I don't care what I do or what I am as long as its with her. She's it for me and I want her by my side for my whole life. I want to be hers more than I want to be anything. I want children, I want a dog, I want a marriage, I want everything with her and if she's not in the future I don't know what I am anymore. I don't know who I am without her." Jungkook's monologue has left everyone speechless and in awe.

"Dude you wanna get married? I never pegged you to be the one to get married?"

"Not right away but in the future, yes. Only if it's to her tho. I don't want anyone else."

"Wow... Never thought Jeon Jungkook would have children in his future." Yoongi knew him the longest and all through his fuckboy phase so it was hardest to digest for Yoongi.

"Well not anymore. The mother of my children wants a divorce."

"Did you say all that to her?" asked Namjoon.

"What?"

"That little speech you just gave? Does she know all that?"

"No... I guess we never got to talk about all those things. I realised all this after the break up anyway."

"Then tell her. Tell her everything you just said, exactly how you said it."

It was easier said than done. You arrived with a knock on his door an hour after the boys left. An hour which Jungkook spent cleaning every surface of his apartment so you wouldn't notice how pathetic his life has gotten after you left.

Upon seeing you walk into his apartment, Jungkook's mouth went dry. He couldn't help but notice how effortlessly beautiful you looked, even in the simplest of outfits. He still has no idea how you manage to look so beautiful in the dullest outfits ever. Your dress modestly covered your legs, and your top had a conservative neckline, not even a hint of cleavage was seen yet you still managed to radiate a captivating charm.

You were also wearing little to no makeup. He did not want to be one of those boyfriends who bragged about their girlfriends looking pretty without makeup but if it was a compitition he'd win. If situations was different he would have made a joke about you going to the church but he stops himself.

"You want some wine?" Jungkook asked.

"Sure. Did you clean the place?"

"Uh...oh yeah. Just a little." He replied pouring wine in two glasses and brought them out to you. You had to mentally remind yourself that this wasn't a romantic date; you were just here to pick up your belongings. Being back in his apartment after such a long time stirred up mixed emotions, and you couldn't help but feel your heart racing.

You took a sip of the wine, only to find it tasted terrible, and you immediately spit it out, making a disgusted face.

"Oh my god, is this the wine we tried making at home?"

"Yes."

"It's awful," you said, both of you bursting into laughter. "Oh my god, why do you still have this? Throw it out, it's literally trash."

"Nah… I like it sometimes… it goes well with that cheese you tried making," he said with a playful grin, recalling a failed culinary experiment from your past. The two of you shared a knowing look, the memories of your shared moments flooding back.

"Noooo that's disgusting... I can't believe you still eat that." You continued laughing. Ok focus, you're not here to have fun.

"Only sometimes... when I miss you." He said and your laughs stopped. "Baby I-"

"So? Where is all my thing?" You ask, completely ignoring the nickname.

"I'm sorry I didn't pack anything." Because I don't want to let you go. "Some of your clothes are still in the laundry room. We can start there." You headed to the compact laundry room, which was conveniently connected to his bathroom. Jungkook trailed behind you in silence as you began sifting through the sizable laundry baskets, searching for your clothes among the various items.

The atmosphere was a mix of awkwardness and nostalgia. Memories of the times you spent together flooded your mind as you touched the familiar fabrics. You tried your best to focus on the task at hand and not get lost in emotions that might cloud your judgment.

"Koo, you mixed up the dirty and clean basket again," you said, using the old nickname almost instinctively. Jungkook's ears perked up, and he couldn't help but notice the fondness in your voice as you gently pointed out his little mistake.

"Did I?"

"Yeah. Blue one is for the dirty laundry, and the white one is for the washed clothes. You mixed them all up, and now you'll have to wash 'em again," you said, teasingly holding up a definitely used Calvin Klein underwear from the clean laundry basket. It felt oddly domestic, and a sense of nostalgia washed over you. Part of you wanted to spend a little more time just doing this with him, the way you used to when you were together.

"Did you try washing my clothes?" You asked picking up your white, well now pink t shirt with your hands.

"I wanted to do something nice."

"That's sweet of you, but there's a reason I told you not to do the laundries. I do the laundries and you do…" You paused, catching yourself before you continued talking as if you were still a couple. It was a slip, and you needed to remind yourself of the reality. You were here to pack your clothes and leave, not to discuss how to divide chores between couples.

"Well you're not here anymore. So I do the laundries and I do the dishes."

"Right... I'll seperate my clothes and then pack them." As you started sorting through the clothes, memories flooded back when your hands grabbed a certain grey t-shirt. Tears welled up in your eyes, that t-shirt held significant meaning in your relationship. It was the first time you stayed at Jungkook's place, and he had given you that t-shirt to wear. You loved it so fucking much that you still wore it often. It represented a sweet and intimate moment between the two of you. Despite the emotions it stirred, you simply placed the t-shirt in his pile of clothes.

"What are you doing? That's your t shirt." He picked it up to put it back in your pile.

"No, it's yours."

"Yes but I gave it to you because you love it."

"Well we're not a couple anymore so I'm giving it back. How are we supposed to move on if-"

"Why are you so fixated on that?"

"On what?"

"On moving on." This was the first time after the break up you were seeing a glimmer of anger in Jungkook's eyes as he walked around the counter to come to your side.

"Well we have to move on, don't we? We can't keep living in the past."

"It's not the past yet. I still love you and you still love me. And don't you fucking say that you don't. Because you do."

"Well it doesn't matter. Love is not enough to work a relationship, Jungkook. We are not compatible."

"And who decided that? You? You suddenly know everything about compatibility?"

"Can't you see? We are fucking fighting over a fucking t shirt."

"No it's not about a t-shirt, we are fighting over the fact that you're giving up on our 3 years relationship so easily like it meant nothing to you."

"Easily? Do you think any of this is easy for me, Jungkook? Do you think I just want to fucking break your heart because I just want to give up? Do you have any idea how much courage it took for me to fucking walk into this apartment just to walk out for your life?"

"Well you could have fooled me. It sure as hell look like you don't give a flying fuck about us right now?"

"I don't give a fuck? How dare you say that? I have given the most fucks about this relationship out of the two of us." Your voices raised in intensity as you found yourselves in close proximity, chests nearly touching, and only a few inches of space between your faces. Despite the heated argument, you couldn't help but notice how his chest was heaving from all the emotions, and how strikingly handsome he looked tonight.

Jungkook was so angry that he had no idea what he was saying anymore. He was just venting his frustration and shouting whatever came to mind in the heat of the moment. But your mind had drifted away from deciphering his words. Instead, you found yourself fixated on his lips, the way the little freckle moved up and down with his lips, and how his hands gestured frantically as he tried to make his point. The intensity of the moment seemed to fade away, and you were lost in the small details that had once been so familiar to you.

"You know what? You're such a hypocrite. You've nagged me all this time for not making efforts, and now you don't even acknowledge any of them. Do you have any idea how cruel you are-?" Unlike last time, this time you remember who made the first move. You took him by surprise, grabbing his gray hoodie to pull him closer. It was you who pulled him down and pressed his lips against your own. The kiss was intense, filled with a mixture of frustration, love, and longing. In that moment, all the pent-up emotions seemed to find release, and you found yourself melting into each other's embrace, at least for a brief moment.

Jungkook doesn't know what the hell took over you, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining. No. It only took him a mere second to acknowledge the situation, but once he did, his arms were already around your waist, pulling you closer than physically possible. The intensity of the moment, the rush of emotions, it all felt overwhelming and right at the same time. The world seemed to fade away as you both embraced, holding on tightly to each other as if afraid to let go. It was a moment of surrender, a moment of pure vulnerability, and for that moment, everything else ceased to exist.

The silent laundry room filled up with the sound of lips smacking each other. And both of you trying to breath between your kisses. Kissing Jungkook has always been a treat in itself, you have had your fair share of lovers before Jungkook but none of them had ever kissed you like he did. Kissing with them was always sort of a task that you would have to go through until both of your clothes were off but not with him. With him kissing itself was such an amazing experience, you could and you had spent hours just kissing those lips, that's how good of a kisser Jungkook was.

Jungkook didn't only kiss with his lips; he kissed with his whole body. His hands explored every inch of your skin that was available to him. One hand was tracing the curve of your hips while the other moved up your back, sending shivers down your spine. The gentle squeeze of his hand on your ass elicited soft moans from you, and you felt your body responding to his touch in all the ways it used to when you were together. The physical connection between you two was undeniable, and it was as if no time had passed since your last intimate encounter.

Without breaking your kisses for a second, Jungkook swiftly picked you up and placed you on the counter, not caring that the laundry baskets fell to the floor. The kisses became more desperate and fervent, his tongue demanding authority inside your mouth. It was as if all the pent-up emotions and desires from the past week were being unleashed in this passionate moment, and neither of you could resist the pull of each other's lips and bodies.

"Wait, wait," You pulled away, panting with droopy eyes from the intensity of the moment. Your small hands gently pushed against his chest when he tried to lean in again. "What are we doing?" you asked, seeking clarity amidst the intoxicating rush of emotions and desire.

"I think, I think we are making out."

"No I mean... I'm not here to do this. This is not right."

"Who cares?" Jungkook shrugged, capturing your lips in another kiss. One much shorter than the previous.

"I do."

"Do you want this?"

"I do...but-" you were cut off by his plump lips.

"Let's talk about it later then... I miss you."

"I miss you too," you whispered, giving in to the overwhelming emotions and desires that filled the air between you both. With those words, you granted Jungkook the permission he needed to take things further. In that moment, you embraced the vulnerability of being human, unable to resist the pull of his charm and the way his body ignited your own.

His hands eagerly roamed along your back, searching for the zipper that must be hidden somewhere on the dress. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and your breath hitched as you felt his fingers deftly find the zipper's pull. The anticipation of what was to come next filled the air, and time seemed to slow down as he slowly, teasingly, pulled the zipper down.

"How was the meeting with the reverend?" He finally made the joke he had been dying to say all evening, making you smack his chest slightly

"Shut up. I thought if I didn't look hot, I'd make it easy on you." you playfully responded, justifying your choice of the dark green dress that covered most of your body.

"Are you kidding me? You can never not look hot. You are feeding my sexy liberarian fantasies." Ignoring his comment you started unzipping his gray hoodie revealing the white wife beater underneath.

"Meals you can skip, gym you can't?" You commented admiring the muscles adorning his shoulders chest and biceps. You shivered when his hand suddenly reached under your dress to caress your bare thighs. Close to your core which you were sure was practically drenched now.

"Can I take this off?" All you could do was nod in response and he ripped your dress off of you in mere seconds. "Gosh, baby, you're so beautiful." Jungkook whispered looking at your mismatched pair of cotton underwear. "Look at you... dripping already. You got this wet just with my kisses?" You shook your head in agreement as he gaped at your clothed pussy. A very noticeable and big patch of wetness covering your panties right at the centre. "I missed playing with your pussy so much. Did it miss me too, Baby?" Once again all you could do was nod when his fingers slowly started tracing shape on your clit. "Words, sweetheart."

"Yes... it missed you. Please do something, Koo." The way you mewled out the words sent blood rushing towards his already hard cock. That was all the encouragement he needed to push your panties to the side. His face lit up at the sight of your dewy folds. Slick dripping between the slit.

"What do you want first?"

"Fingers. I want your fingers." Jungkook quickly moved to take off his rings but you stopped him. "Fuck me with them." Jungkook almost came at your words, you never told him before that you liked getting off with his rings.

"You like the cold metal?" You couldn't answer the question as he started playing with the bundle of nerves, pinching it occasionally. All your words turned into whimpers. "Look your pussy baby. Begging of my fingers." He smirked before slowly entering your folds with his middle fingers.

"Ah... baby." You shakily reach out with your hand to bring his face near your chest. He seemed to understand the assignment as he quickly started nibbling at the skin of your breast, pulling down the cups to release your nipples which were now hard like pebbles.

Jungkook had a way of eliciting reactions from you as if it were the first time every time, despite having experienced it countless times over the past three years. It amazed you how he could still have such an impact on you after all this time.

"I missed having your tits on my face." Jungkook murmured before quickly taking one in his mouth. You moaned out incoherent words when his ring finger joined his middle finger inside your cunt. Thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hands found solace in Jungkook's hair as he continued leaving kisses all across your chest.

You let out a tiny whimper in protest when his fingers pulled out from you. He brought them up to his lips and gave them a suck, eyes looking deeply in your half closed once.

"Shhh don't worry, baby. I just want more access." You understood what he meant when he pulled you up easily with one hand to take off your panties and throwing it somewhere in the laundry room. "You know, you taste just as sweet as day one." He picked up some of your slick on his fingers and brought them closer to your lips. "Taste baby, taste how devine you are." You took his fingers in your mouth and sucked them clean. Jungkook's cock was now as hard as a rock. He quickly took one of your hands and guided them to his clothed boner in order to get some relief. Like muscle memory your your hands quickly started working on his crotch. Squeezing it just the right amount.

"Wanna suck your cock." You quickly said.

"Later. Let me have this cunt for now." He quickly bent down on his knees to swipe his tongue up your slit pulling out a sudden loud moan from you. "Yes baby. Keep screaming." He said before leaning forward and getting to work, lapping at your juices like a dog dying from thirst.

His two long fingers went back inside your seeping hole as his tongue started flicking your clit. His free hand grabbed your thigh and put it on his shoulder. You were halfway hanging from the counter and practically sitting on Jungkook's face. Jungkook on the other hand was in his heaven right now. Imagine two of the most favourite things to mankind, ass and pussy and then imagine being buried in them, Jungkook thought if he died right now right here, it would be the best death.

Your hips started moving in circular motion as you ground your pussy against his face. Hands tugging at his raven locks. His nose occasionally bumped against your clit. You looked down at the scene in front of you, Jungkook's eyes looking up at you and his mouth ate away at your pussy. The look of his face trapped between your thighs was so filthy that you almost came from it only.

His tongue had now replaced your fingers in poking and prodding inside your walls. His hand came around your hips to rub at your clit.

Jungkook loved eating your pussy and it showed. The way his eyes closed in pleasure only by bringing you close to your orgasm. He was a very selfless lover, he found pleasure in pleasing you and he could spend days licking your juices and playing with your pussy. Right now his goal was to make you cum, if you squirt then it would be a bonus.

"I'm close, Koo. Lick my clit please." And like the always obedient lover, he did. Fingers parting your pussy lips and tongue getting back to licking the bundle of nerves, lips wrapping around it to give it a suck now and then. The sounds you were making were pornographic to say the least. You were sure you sounded like one of those girls making high pitched noises in the porn videos but you couldn't help it. Jungkook made you behave like a whore and you loved it. You loved screaming his name and you loved making these obscene sounds, and Jungkook loved it even more.

"Koo, I'm cumming." You cried out. He started licking even faster at your words, helping you reach the high faster. His heart jumped with joy when he saw the juices coming out of you. He did it, he made you squirt. Your legs quivered around him as you came down from his high. He didn't stop there. He licked you until you were clean and drank every single droplet of your arousal. You were shaking from the orgasm and the oversensitivity you felt in your pussy.

With one last kiss to the hood of your clit Jungkook came up and you immediately pulled him in for a kiss. You were determined to pleasure him like he did you. Shaking hands fidgeting with his clothes as you tugged at his lip ring with your teeth.

"Slow down baby." He helped you take of his wife beater.

"Can't. Want your cock." You were once again drunk on arousal. Your hands worked as quick as they could after that earth shattering orgasm to pull out his cock from his sweatpants. Mouth watering at the sight once it finally did.

Jungkook had the most beautiful and delicious cock you have ever seen. It was long and thick with just the perfect mushroom tip, which was now swollen and red and leaking from precum. The veins in his cock were imitating the veins on his arms, ready to pop any minute. Your thumb already started doing its job by spreading the precum all over his tip.

The groan he let out as your hand played with his cock was very loud. Almost as if giving you a warning.

"Is baby a cockslut?" He asked, reaching out to trace your lips with his tumba. The same thumb that was rubbing your clit only a minute ago.

"Only for you."

"Yes. Only mine."

"Wanna suck your cock." You pleaded once again.

"Go ahead, babygirl. Do whatever you want." You took that as permission to sink down on your knees and come face to face with his throbbing penis which was begging for your attention. Your hands stroked him slowly up and down and tongue came out to tease the top. "Don't tease, baby." You giggles once he used his heavy tip slap you slightly.

You looked up at him, making the most innocent face as you collected some spit in your mouth and then spit on his cock to lather it up with some slick. You slowly took the warm tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it like a lollipop.

"Just like that, babe." Jungkook sighed out and his words arrange you to take him in inch by inch until he was in your throat. One of your hands came up to play with his balls. His moans were now louder working as your inspiration to please him more. You loved the way he said your name. Moaned your name like you were some goddess that he was praying to.

Your head started bobbing up and down as you took him in and out of your mouth. Tongue continuously playing with the warm slit on tip of his cock.

"Fuck my mouth." You said once you took him out completely.

"You sure?" You only responded with a nod and that was all the answer that he needed to grab the back of your head and start thrusting in your mouth. You angled your teeth in a way you knew he loved. In a way that they grazed his shaft enough to feel but not enough to hurt. His tip was bumping at the back of your throat as one of your hand kept playing with his balls.

He pulled out of your mouth too soon to your liking and you gave him a questioning look.

"I'll cum if we kept going. I wanna cum in your pussy." Jungkook did not take one more second to pull you up and bend you against the counter. Fingers once again playing with your entrence to make sure you were wet enough to enter. "Look at you. You are wet again already, baby. Such a fucking whore." Although his words might have offended you naturally but right now they just added to your arousal. "My little whore wants to get fucked?" His hands digging in the flesh of your ass, slapping it to make it jiggle.

"Yes, Kookie. Please, fuck me." You begged, splayed out on your front on the cold counter. His cock was running along your pussy, poking in your slit but not really entering. "Stop teasing me you, asshole." You screamed earning a chuckle from the man behind you.

"This is what you get for being so mean to me." The loud smack that came at the flesh of your ass was very unexpected. "Tell me you forgive me and I'll fuck you." He bargained.

"No." Another smack making you yelp out from pleasure and pain. Your cunt once again was dripping from your arousal and this asshole was doing absolutely nothing about it. Wasn't he turned on too?

"Say or I won't fuck you."

"You're an asshole"

"That's not the answer."

"Fine. I forgive you. Just fuck me, please." Jungkook laughed at the way you begged.

"See. It wasn't that hard." He finally sink into you. A synchronised moan escaped the both of you once he was completely inside. "So warm and tight, baby. The best pussy ever."

"Jungkook, faster." You moaned and he obliged instantly. Your ass jiggling as he started snapping into you in a fast rhythm. His cock was hitting you in all the right places, he had found your g-spot instantly. One of his hands sneaked to the front to rub your clit as the other pulled you back and held you against his chest.

You hiked one of your legs up on the counter to get better angle and feel all of him in all the right places. Jungkook kept grunting in your ear, letting out words of encouragement, telling you how good you were holding up and how wonderful your pussy was.

Your breast bounced up and down as he pulled out of you and pushed in with equal force. His fingers kept rubbing and flicking your clit side to side and soon you were close to your climax.

"Jungkook I'm close."

"Hold it."

"Can't," you were cut off by your own moan at another hit against your g spot. "Can't hold it for long."

"Just for a little, baby. I'm close too." His hand turns your jaw sideways to capture your lips, drinking all of your moans. Just a few thrusts of his later he was almost there. "On the count of 3, ok baby?" You nodded against his lips.

"One." He slapped your clit, earning a loud moan from you.

"Two." His hand tucked and pinched at your nipples.

"Three." With one final thrust the both of you came down from your climax with a loud scream.

"Oh god I love you. I love you so much baby." Jungkook said as his seeds filled your pussy up to the brim.

*******

"What are you doing?" Jungkook looked at you confusingly as you pulled on your clothes 15 minutes after having sex with him. Although he did clean you up there was still some of his cum inside you right now.

"I can't go out naked."

"Why do you have to go out?"

"Because I don't live here? We are still broken up, Jungkook." Your words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What? But we... we just had sex... you said you forgave me."

"Don't act like you never said anything to get whatever you want." You said looking for your panties. "Where the fuck are my panties?"

"What do you m- did you just say that to have sex with me?" He said as you looked for another pair of panties in the laundry basket. "I feel so used right now."

"Don't be dramatic."

"But baby... I thought we made up. Please don't leave now."

"Jungkook... You want to win me back? Do it without sex. The sex was amazing but I'm sorry it did not solve anything. I still feel the same and you still haven't gave me any assurance."

"So we're still broken up?"

"Yes. I'll pickup my things some other time. I'm leaving." He sighed knowing there was no point in arguing. You were nothing if not stubborn.

"At least let me drop you off. It's getting late."

"It's ok. I called Taehyung when you were in the bathroom. He's already outside probably." You said, checking the time in you wrist watch.

"Fucking Taehyung." Jungkook muttered under his breath.

"Bye, Jungkook. Don't torture yourself, please."

*******

"Oh the walk of shame." Taehyung teased you when you walked out of a certain apartment building to his awaiting car.

"Shut up, Tae. If I wanted to be judged, I'd have called Jimin." Taehyung was your other best friend, and although you hadn't known each other for long, he quickly warmed his way into your heart. Ironically, you met Taehyung through Jungkook; he was Namjoon's cousin. However, now he was closer to you and Jimin than he was to Jungkook. You first met Taehyung at a club where Jungkook had dragged you with his office friends. Despite hitting on you initially, he politely backed off when you declined, and you both ended up spending the rest of the night talking and bonding over feeling neglected by the people who dragged you to the club.

"He's going to have field day with this." Taehyung chuckled as he drove away from the building.

"That's why we're not telling him."

"Fine by me, if you think you can lie to him."

"Oh god. What did I do?"

"Look, babe. I don't know what to say, you clearly still love him and he's clearly still obsessed with you. You are only torturing yourself by trying to stay away from him."

"I just... It's not enough you know. I know he loves me, more than anything but if I get back with him who's to say a week later he just won't go back to his usual self? I'm just scared Taehyung, I just don't want to get hurt. I don't want to be one of those women in the future who just sits at home and waits for her husband while he's out their flirting with a waitress or something."

"I just hope you'd stop hurting. Nothing else." He gave you a sympathetic smile and held your hand for the whole drive.

*******

Life can be cruel, and it seemed like the universe wasn't on your side. You want something so much and when you'd finally have it, you don't want it anymore. You had wanted space from Jungkook and asked for it repeatedly, but now that he had given you that space for the past six days, you couldn't shake the feeling that something significant was missing from your life. It was as if a big piece of your heart was absent, and you found yourself longing for his presence once again.

Six days had passed since you left Jungkook's place in Taehyung's car, and during that time, he hadn't reached out to you even once. There were no phone calls, no text messages, and no unexpected appearances at random places. It felt strange and unfamiliar not having him actively pursuing you, and it only added to the confusion and uncertainty swirling in your mind.

Every time you made a turn or entered a cafe, a part of you half-expected Jungkook to be there, waving at you with that familiar, endearing smile on his face. But each time, you found yourself disappointed as there was no sign of him. The absence of his constant presence was both a relief and a pang of longing, leaving you torn between wanting to move on and wanting him to come back into your life.

Wasn't this what you wanted? For him to stop obsessing over you and move on with his life? However, now that he had seemingly taken a step back, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. A part of you wanted him to fight for you, to prove that he was willing to change and make things work. Another part of you longed for his familiar presence and the comfort that came with it.

"Did you hear any of the words I just said?" Mia asked you and you gave her a guilty smile.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little preoccupied today."

"Is this about Jungkook again?"

"I'm so sorry... I think this is a very bad idea. I really don't want to disrespect your friend." When Mia suggested the double date with her boyfriend and their friend a few days ago you were very skeptical about it. You didn't want to get into anything right now with the mess that your head was but after discussing it with Jimin and Taehyung, they convinced you that you should go, to take your mind off of things for a bit. Double dates are nothing serious, it was just a way to lighten up your mood. Although now you were regretting the whole ordeal. You shouldn't have come here. Not only was your mood very sour but it was also very evident on your face.

"Oh no. You wouldn't. Trust me. Actually the thing is Chris is going through a bad breakup as well and Jisung and I thought you could, you know help each other out or something."

"That's very sweet of you, Mia. But you sure I wouldn't ruin the whole thing?"

"Oh don't worry at all. And even if it does not go well nothing will be ruined between us. We'll laugh about it later." You gave her a grateful smile when she rubbed your hands.

A few seconds later, the bell of the restaurant rang, and two very attractive men walked in. As the woman beside you stood up, you realized that they were your dates. Mia quickly introduced you to her boyfriend Jisung and your date Chris. You were relieved that Chris wasn't at least horrible looking, and you hoped you could get through this one date.

"Wow, they did not mention how beautiful you are," Chris said as he shook your hand and took the seat in front of you. You couldn't help but wonder how many times he used this line, but then you reminded yourself that not every guy is a player. For all you know, Chris could be a very sweet guy who was genuinely complimenting you.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," you replied with a polite smile. "You don't look so bad yourself."

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself getting more comfortable around Chris. He was easy to talk to, which helped lighten your mood. But despite being a genuinely sweet guy, you couldn't help but compare Chris to Jungkook. Whether it was the way he spoke, sat, or even called for the waiter, Chris lacked the same level of confidence that Jungkook possessed. Even on your first date, Jungkook had a way of making you feel like you had known him forever.

You observed that Chris couldn't hold a candle to Jungkook when it came to a sense of humor. While Jungkook was effortlessly funny, Chris tended to build up to a joke too much, and it often fell flat, leaving you with no choice but to give him pity laughs.

You had to consciously remind yourself to stop comparing this man to your ex boyfriend. Chris might not be as funny, or confident, or curious, or smart, or handsome, or cute, or witty, or energetic, or adventurous, or a good wine orderer as Jungkook but he was still a decent person. Perhaps, if you gave him a chance, things could potentially go well. It was essential to keep an open mind and not let your past experiences cloud your judgment.

The mention of your name from the man in front of you snapped you out of your train of thoughts. "So, tell me something about yourself," he said, and you suddenly realized that all three pairs of eyes were expectantly on you. Not knowing exactly what to say, you started talking about your work. With Jungkook, this was never an issue; conversation always flowed effortlessly, even in the early stages of your relationship.

"Oh… um well, I recently got promoted to a junior copywriter in our advertising company," you replied, giving him a small smile.

"No none of the boring work stuff. Tell me about yourself. What are your interests?" he asked, and you were slightly surprised by his directness. Didn't Mia mention he was going through a breakup as well? Must have been one happy breakup if he was still so cheerful.

"I... I like horror movies."

"Oh, I can't stand horror movies," Chris replied. Jungkook, on the other hand, loved horror movies. Every weekend, the two of you would go watch horror films or shows and then mock the scary scenes together. He adored seeing you jump at the jump scares and relished the opportunity to hold you close in his arms to "console" you.

"Then what kind of movies do you like?"

"I'm more into non-fiction and political cinema, and occasionally documentaries," he said. His response didn't exactly excite you, and you wondered if he was just trying to impress you or if his taste in movies was genuinely that dull. If it was the former he was doing a very bad job.

"Prude," Mia's boyfriend, Jisung, let out a cough, and it actually made you laugh, realizing it might be the first time you've genuinely laughed during this date. Normally, Jungkook would have already… No, no more thinking about Jungkook.

"I think it's adorable that Chris gets his jollies from 'our planet'." You laughed again, finding some amusement in the conversation. This date might end up being a little more bearable after all.

Finding an opening, you slipped into a conversation with Mia and Jisung instead of focusing solely on Chris. You couldn't help but awe at how adorable of a couple Mia and Jisung were. They recently celebrated their 1-year anniversary. Jisung was much younger but despite the age difference, they seemed so happy and in love. They reminded you so much of you and Jungkook. While Jungkook might not have been younger than you, he was definitely the more mischievous and playful one in the relationship, while you tended to be more responsible and level-headed.

"Do you happen to know the guy sitting behind you? Because he has been glaring at me like I just stole his kids and traded them for wool," Chris said, catching Mia's attention first. She turned around, and you followed suit, curious to see who was giving Chris such a fierce look.

To your surprise, it was none other than Jeon Jungkook sitting at the table behind you, and he wasn't alone. Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon were with him. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met his, and a myriad of emotions surged through you, but one was the most overwhelming of them all. Guilt.

Regret washed over you as you realized the impact your decision to go on this date had on Jungkook. His hurt expression tugged at your heartstrings, and you couldn't help but feel guilty for putting yourself in this situation. It was clear that this double date was a mistake, and you were left grappling with your emotions and the consequences of your choices.

Feeling overwhelmed and needing a moment alone, you excused yourself from the table without waiting for any response from the others. You rushed through the restaurant, trying to find a washroom where you could collect your thoughts and emotions. The encounter with Jungkook had caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had intentionally come here like he did that past week or if it was just actually a coincidence.

"So we're dating other people now?" He sounded hurt when he stepped in behind you in the restroom.

"Kook, this is not what it looks like."

"I'm not mad. I'm just surprised."

"You're not?"

"Maybe a little."

"Where were you for the past six days?" You turned the question on him.

"So I disappear for a week and you start dating someone else. Thought it would take at least 30 days to move on from a 3 year relationship." His remark was bitter but you knew where he came from.

"Kook, it's not what it looks like," you said, stepping closer to him, feeling the need to explain yourself even though you knew you didn't owe him anything. After all, you were not together anymore, and it had been almost three weeks since the breakup.

"By the way I didn't disappear because I was giving up on us. I was just trying to give you some space. Our friends forced me to give you some space," He said "I wouldn't have if I knew..."

"Jungkook,"

"What's his name?"

"Don't do this to yourself."

"What does he do? I mean we can still be friends right? I know it-" you cut of his words by pressing your lips against his in a very soft kiss.

"Koo, you presence was not so insignificant in my life that I'd forget you in a week." Your words brought a hint of smile on his lips. He let out a sigh in relief.

"Oh thank God, I thought I lost you to that leprechaun."

"Hey," you scolded him. "I swear to god if you pick a fight with him on the way out, I'll whoop your ass."

"That would be so hot." There he was. Your precious Jungkook.

"But we're still not back together." The smile left his face as soon as it came. "Kook... I'm still not yours but... Make me. I'm willing to give you another chance but... You have to assure me that it will be worth it. Win me back and I'm yours."

"I will, baby. I'll show you how devoted I am." With one last kiss on your lips he left the restroom.

As Jungkook left the restroom with a newfound sense of hope and determination, you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he was ready to face the challenge of winning you back with all his heart.

As you returned to the table, Mia and Chris looked at you curiously. "Is everything okay?" Mia asked with concern.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just had a little chat."

Chris raised an eyebrow playfully. "A little chat, huh? Well, I hope it was a good one."

You glanced back at the restroom door, feeling a mix of emotions inside you. "Yeah, it was," you replied, your heart a little lighter than before.

*******

And the cycle began anew on the following day. The affectionate text messages resumed, starting from the sweet 'good morning' greetings to heartfelt 'I love you's. You received a bouquet of a 100 sunflowers on your desk with a note that only read 'because roses are cliche'. He sent boba at your office because you hated coffee and he sent you sushi's from your favourite restaurant.

It was like a cycle. Once again he was following you around the city but this time you didn't roll your eyes at him, didn't cuss him out or ask him to leave you alone. You even heard from Jimin and Taehyung that Jungkook deleted his Snapchat and Instagram. Jimin was the most shocked one at the news. 'Oh my god is Jungkook actually trying to redeem himself?'

You laughed as Jungkook ran after your subway because he was a minute too late and couldn't get in as it left the station. But like the lovely ex-girlfriend you were you decided to get off on the next station to wait for him. And like you expected 10 minutes later a you saw Jungkook running down the stairs, eyes looking for you. Quickly running up to you when he found you.

"Did you run here?" He didn't answer you but only because he was too busy catching his breath.

"There are trains only two minutes apart."

"I...I know that" He said between catching his breath. "But that... would not... have been very romantic."

"And what if I didn't get off at this station."

"I would run to your office."

"You're crazy."

"Only for you."

One more week goes by with Jungkook showing you in every way how much you mean to him. You were finally starting to get the assurance and security that you have always craved for your relationship. You were finally starting to see the depths of Jungkook's devotion. The smile on your face now was just a constant. And there were only two reasons for it, Jungkook and thoughts of Jungkook.

"So, how's everything going with your crazy stalker ex?" One night Jimin playfully commented when you him and Taehyung were spending it at your place.

"Don't call him crazy."

"Fine. How's your completely sane stalker ex?" You only roll your eyes but soon started smiling widely. "Oh my god guys... He's the sweetest. I don't think I've seen him putting this much efforts in to anything like ever."

"Yeah, Namjoon says he's so whipped for you that it's disgusting." Taehyung's comment makes you blush. "So? When are you getting back together with him."

"I don't know. I mean I know. But, I don't know, should I initiate it? Should I wait for him to ask me again? Should I ask him to ask me again?"

"Don't think too much about it. If you wanna be with him, be with him." Taehyung being the ever level headed one said.

"I say make him work some more. That man had you going crazy for three years, the least jail time he deserves is three months." Jimin said sipping on his margarita.

"Don't listen to, Jimin. In fact call him right now."

"No, don't call him right now. This is our night. Don't be a simp."

"Did you guys bet against me and Jungkook?" You asked looking between both of your friends who looked like deers caught in a headlight. "Who else?"

"Just Jimin and I... and Namjoon and Yoongi and Hoseok." You gasped dramatically at your unbelievable friends.

"If either of you win, I want my cut."

The next day you were surprised to not see the usual series of morning texts that you get from Jungkook. There were no flowers outside your doorstep or your desk. Nobody sent you boba or lunch and you could say that you were having a very Jungkook less day today. The lack of your cute stalker ex has taken a toll on your mood and you found yourself becoming increasingly snappy and cranky with others, unable to shake off the disappointment and longing for his attention. This made you realise how much accustomed you have become to Jungkook.

You looked longingly at your phone but there was nothing, still no text, no calls. You could always be the mature one and call him to see what was the matter but a part of you hesitated, not wanting to appear too eager or like you were desperately missing him. After all, he had been the one pursuing you, and you didn't want to reverse those roles.

Soon it was time to get off from work, and with a series of goodbyes and good evenings you quickly left your office, You couldn't help but wonder if Jungkook would be waiting for you outside, just like he used to do. However, as you stepped out, there was no sign of him, and the reality sank in that he wasn't there. Still holding onto a glimmer of hope, you decided to wait for a little while, thinking he might show up a bit late. You stood there, keeping an eye out for any sign of him, and time seemed to slow down. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, and you were torn between staying and leaving.

Soon the guard to the building adviced you to leave saying that their was a big storm on the way. You quickly looked up the weather forecast to realise that he was right indeed. You looked up at the sky to see the angry black clouds had started to gather around.

Searching for his contact you finally decided to give him a call. You were seriously getting worried about Jungkook now. As the call went straight to voicemail, your worry for Jungkook intensified.

Deciding it was the only choice, you headed towards Jungkook's place instead of your own, opting for a cab over the subway to reach him quickly.

Your excitement soared when your phone finally rang after a long day of silence. But, it quickly turned to disappointment as you noticed an unknown number instead of the one you had been eagerly waiting for. Despite the uncertainty, you chose to answer the call, just in case it was something important.

The voice asking for you on the other side was definitely unknown.

"Yes this is she." You replied.

"I'm speaking from Hope Memorial Hospital. You are listed as an emergency contact for a Jeon Jungkook. He has been involved in a motorcycle crash, and it's a very serious accident. We urgently need a guardian. Are you able to assist, or could you direct us to someone else?" The voice on the other end was serious and panicked, but you found it hard to accept the gravity of the situation. Your heart pounded in your chest, and tears streamed down your face, hoping that it wasn't as critical as it sounded.

"No, it's okay. I'll be there in... 10 minutes," you replied, your voice shaky but determined. You swiftly instructed the cab driver to change the route, urging him to go faster as you anxiously bit your nails in anticipation.

During the ride, you tried to stay strong and reassure yourself that it might not be as critical as you feared. Your mind couldn't help but drift to the worst-case scenario. What if he was already... No, no, no, you couldn't bear to think that way. You pushed those thoughts aside, trying to stay positive and hopeful as you rushed towards the hospital.

The driver observed you with sympathy as you quietly wept in the back seat. Regret filled your heart as you realized you should have called him. You blamed yourself, thinking that it was all your fault, and if anything happened to him, it would be on you.

As the car came to a stop, you hastily tossed all the remaining cash at the driver and rushed inside the hospital. Your must have looked frantic as you ran around, sobbing and calling out Jungkook's name. Thankfully, a compassionate nurse came to your aid and calmly checked the hospital charts for the name you managed to utter amidst your sobs.

"Come with me, dear. He's in the ER," you swiftly followed the nurse to a bustling room. As the nurse drew back the curtain, you braced yourself for the worst—expecting to see Jungkook badly injured, bleeding, or worse. However, what you did not anticipate was finding Jungkook sitting there, looking.... perfectly fine?

You stared at the man sitting there, feeling a mix of confusion and relief. He was laughing at something the blond girl standing beside him had said. It was unexpected, given the seriousness of the call you received earlier. You couldn't help but wonder if there had been a mistake or if he had recovered miraculously.

"Baby, you came." His eyes lit up as soon as he saw you, there was not even a single scratch on Jeon Jungkook, maybe beside the scratched leather jacket. Now not to get you wrong, you were very happy that he was okay. You were just very confused. What was happening? You had stopped sobbing breathlessly but the tears were still flowing.

"I don't understand... Somebody called, they said... That something happened and it was serious." You tried explaining.

"I did get into a crash but it was nothing. They thought it was internal bleeding but that wasn't the case either. That's why I was here all afternoon, doing tests an all. But now I'm fine."

"Then why did they say that?"

"It was just a prank. I'm sorry it was Sua's Idea." He said pointing at the blond girl standing there. Your blood was boiling so fucking much that you didn't even care asking who this bitch even was let alone what she was doing with your boyfriend.

"A prank? You think this is funny?" Jungkook finally grasped the seriousness of the situation when he saw the mortified look on your face, realizing the impact of the prank. Your makeup was ruined from all the crying, and you looked exhausted.

"Baby, calm down it was just a joke." His hands came forward but you slapped it away.

"Do not Fucking touch me." You glared at him. "Do you seriously think that was funny? I almost had a heart attack, Jungkook. Do you know how fucking scared I was?" Jungkook didn't like when your voice did that. He could handle you yelling, screaming, and even calling him names, but seeing you speak with that dead serious look on your face was something he couldn't bear. It made him feel like he wanted to disappear. Jungkook wanted to jump off a cliff.

"You know what? I can't believe I even thought about giving you another chance. We are seriously done this time." You didn't even look back as you walked away as Jungkook struggled to get that IV out of his hand and run after you.

"Baby, stop I'm sorry. It was Sua's Idea, I swear."

The thunderstorm had finally hit your city with full blast. It was raining cats and dogs. In the midst of it all, everyone ran to sought shelter. However, that didn't stop you from sprinting out of the hospital. The storm didn't concern you; what mattered most was that you couldn't even bare the thought of being near Jeon Jungkook at that moment.

As you dwelled on everything that had happened, your anger intensified. You felt a surge of anger directed at Jungkook, the thunderstorm, and that stupid blond woman who played the prank. But, the strongest force of anger was aimed at yourself, for even thinking that he can take anything seriously. Why did you even bother believing he could change? He was and will always be a man-child.

"Babe, it's really dangerous outside."

"THEN STOP FOLLOWING ME."

"I'm not leaving you alone," he insisted, stepping out into the heavy rain to follow you. As you walked, you had no clear destination or plan in mind. All you knew was that you were so angry with Jeon Jungkook that you couldn't bear to look at his face.

After just a few minutes of walking in the worst thunderstorm you've experienced in years, you came to the realization that this was a reckless idea. Your emotions had driven you to act impulsively, and now you saw the potential danger not only for yourself but for the idiot following you as well. While you knew Jungkook seemed to have little to no regard for his own life and safety, you cared about him.

Recognizing the need to be level-headed and responsible, you decided to find shelter, a place where both of you could wait out the thunderstorm safely. You understood that even in moments of anger, you needed to prioritize the safety of both of you. You began searching for a suitable place where you could find refuge from the harsh weather.

Ignoring the constant pleas from the man behind to listen to him, you led him to a nearby subway station. The station provided shelter from the heavy rain and the strong winds that accompanied the thunderstorm. Inside, the noise of the rain was muffled, creating a more peaceful atmosphere.

"Babe, I'm so sorry, please talk to me," seeing your silence he continued "I messed up, and I'm really sorry. I should have never gone along with that prank."

"Yes you shouldn't have." you snapped making him jump a little. Taking a deep breath to calm your anger and clear your thoughts, you finally addressed the question that had been gnawing at you. "Who was that woman anyway?"

"Just some girl, she was in the bed beside mine and we got to talking but I swear to god, I did not flirt with her once. When I told her about you she came up with the prank and I should not have gone along with it. I'm sorry."

"I just feel that you can't take anything seriously. It's like everything is a joke to you. How do I know that you'll take me seriously? That you'll take this relationship seriously?"

"No... I know I've been a little childish," watching you raise an eyebrow he corrected himself "A lot childish. But I swear, babe. This is the most serious thing in my life. I've made many mistakes in the past but I swear I'll start redeeming everything. I'll prove how serious I am about us. You are everything for me, baby. Everything. You're it for me. I want to spend my whole life with you, __." The way he said your name sent shivers down your body. The way he looked at your eyes eased your mind a little. "I want to have a future with you. I want to marry you, I want to have a home with you, I want to grow old with you, that's how serious I am. I love you more than anything in this entire world and I'll prove it to you." You only realised that you were crying when he wiped a year from your eyes.

"You mean it?"

"Every word."

"Fine then. Let's go." You held out your and he quickly grabbed it. When you dragged him out of the subway station you realised that the storm had stopped. The universe was on your side for once.

Jungkook did not utter another word the whole way that you led him to your house. The silence was thick when you closed the door behind you. He still didn't know what it meant for you both, your silence did not give him any answer and he was scared to ask.

"I swear to god, Jeon Jungkook" You finally began after the painful silence and his heart skipped a beat in anticipation. "If I see you entertaining another women ever again, I'm walking out of your life. And this time it would be for good. I will not come back no matter how much you beg me to." It took him a couple seconds to take in your words.

"Does that mean-"

"Yes. I'm giving you another chance. But you mess it up and I'm dumping your ass." The next thing you know Jungkook is showering your whole face in kisses and he finally let go of the tears. Crying happily as he held you close.

"Thank you, baby. Thank you so much. I will not disappoint you, I promise."

"I hope so too." The both of you stood in the middle of your living room, soaking into each other's warmth.

"Now let me fuck you right." He said, making you yelp as he picked you up all of a sudden and rushed toward your bedroom. Your kisses soon turned heated and desperate. Both of you panting as he started taking off your wet clothes.

You were wet in more ways than one. His kisses traveled down your face along with each piece of garment he removed from you. Lips not sparing a single inch of skin as he spent the whole night showing you how much he loves you.

The next morning your wakeup call was none other than Jungkook's tongue swiping away at your center. You woke up with a gasp when the sun was yet to come out. You glanced down to find the mop of raven hair between your thighs.

"Oh god, koo yes." You moaned out loud when his plump lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking. His hands pushing down on your hips, keeping them from arching up on the bed.

His tongue swiped up from your opening as your juices trickled down to your posterior hole. It was too early for your head to comprehend whatever was happening. Your finger started tugging on his curls when he pulled you close to your orgasm. Agressively lapping at your pussy. The pleasure you felt was tremendous. Too much to handle.

Jungkook ate you out like he had rent to pay and this was his job. His tongue playing with you as you came down from your high screaming his name louder than ever. After pulling two more orgasms from you in the next 15 minutes Jungkook was finally satisfied and he kissed up his way to your lips.

"Jungkook, we had sex like, 7 times last night. It wasn't enough?" You giggled when you felt his hard boner pressing against your ass.

"It's never enough with you. Seven times is nothing, baby," he said as he slowly entered you, pulling out a moan from your lips. "I wanna fuck you seven days a week." He added between his lazy thrusts. "Every hour." He lands a gentle kiss on your lips. "Every minute." Fingers intertwining with your own. "Every second."

********

#jeon jeongkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook seven #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #Boyfriend jungkook #Jeon Jungkook x reader #Stalker jungkook #Bts #BTS x reader #Jungkook bts #Jk x reader #Boyfriend jk #Fuckboy jungkook #seven #seven jungkook

[forlix]

𝐚𝐜𝐞・h.h.

— volleyball superstar and your personal hell hwang hyunjin proposes a trade-off you can't refuse: his matchmaking services for a passing anthropology grade. the plan is foolproof in theory; in practice, it is something else entirely.

words・15.2k

pairing・volleyball player!hyunjin x tutor!reader (gn)

genres・college!au, sports!au, fake enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn. two polar opposites sharing one soul. a seungjin fic if u squint. loosely inspired by the manga/anime haikyuu!!

warnings・mentions of anxiety, fear of failure, heartbreak, loneliness, and self-image. course language and callous banter (as always) ft. suggestive flirting and one kms joke. some of the referenced players and coaches are real; this fic is not.

playlist・collision by stray kids・value by ado・waiting for us by stray kids・eternity by bang chan・dreaming by smallpools・fly high!! by burnout syndromes

a/n・writing this felt like returning to my roots tbh. i love volleyball and i love sports aus and i love, love hwang hyunjin. thank u to my sahar for bringing this fic to life with me, as always; i can no longer write for him without also writing for you. i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i adored writing it. happy late birthday, our jinnie, our hyunjin, our forever ace; you are so unbelievably loved ♡

“Not a word out of you,” you say, tossing your backpack onto the floor of the lecture hall with a heavy-handed flick. “I’m serious.”

Hyunjin glances up at you with a frown. “When did people stop saying good morning?”

Your lack of an immediate comeback tells him the situation is dire. He observes you for a moment, his mouth falling open, hanging still, then curving into a slow, serpentine smile.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Please, angel.”

“No! Leave me alone.”

Hyunjin slumps back into his seat, thinking hard. The solution occurs to him with a poke of his tongue into his cheek. “Coffee on me for a week.”

At this, your hands stop rummaging in your bag. You cock your head, your interest piqued. Got you. 

When you finally humor him and turn around, you’re flinching like you’re in pain, eyes closed and breath held and all. He giggles and leans in for a closer look. Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes if he wasn’t so flummoxed by the state of your forehead.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Tried to cut my own bangs,” you sigh. “It didn’t go very well and now I look like Rock Lee.”

Hyunjin lets out a forceful laugh. “You’ve seen Naruto?”

You open your eyes. Only then does Hyunjin remember how little distance he left between your faces, when he’s staring straight into them and all the strange, starry speckles they hold.

The air between you curdles like sour milk.

Things are awkward between you often, he’s realized recently. What’s more, he didn’t think he was capable of being awkward with anyone anymore until he met you. It was your ill-fated seat that he chose to sit next to on the first day of ANTH 111, your ill-fated lap onto which he chose to spill his Americano, and the rest was history (or, in this case, anthropology). His tongue ends up in sailor’s knots with every smart-aleck comment and pitiful laugh you’ve given him since. Maybe there’s more to it, maybe there isn’t—Hyunjin doesn’t think about it much. He doesn’t like thinking in general.

You pull away from each other in unison. You clear your throat, glancing elsewhere. 

“Of course I’ve seen Naruto,” you quip, and everything is normal again. “Why do you seem surprised?”

“Because you’re so scholarly.”

“I am not scholarly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You go to a park to play chess with old people on weekends.”

“I need to get my steps in somehow.”

“You didn’t know what Urban Dictionary was until I told you to look up—”

“God, I learned so much about you that day."

“Your favorite social media platform is Quizlet,” he bursts, exasperated. “Quizlet.”

“It is not.” An introspective pause. “Or is it?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyunjin throws his feet up on the chair below him, jabs in your direction with a bandaged finger. “There is no way you enjoy watching 2D men beat each other up in your free time. I don’t buy it.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d have more to say about my current appearance than my hobbies.”

He does, though. Matter of fact, he’s been curating a list since this conversation started: Vector from Despicable Me, Dora the Explorer’s hot older sibling, Spock. You face-planted into a lawnmower. You mistook a paper shredder for a hat. It goes on.

But then his head turns. Your eyes meet again. He’s reminded that it’s hard to sustain an inner monologue and look at you at the same time, Vector resemblance and all.

He reaches up, nudges a lock of your hair over a centimeter or so, and gives the patch of forehead a gentle flick.

“Watermelon,” he mumbles with a sickening smile.

You divert your attention to your lecture notes with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You’re getting soft.”

He spends the entire lecture daydreaming about tropical coastlines.

“I only get coffee from that one place on the east side of campus, by the way,” you say as you’re strolling out the building together, “and I get it a very specific way. Can you handle it?”

“Your faith gets me out of bed in the morning,” Hyunjin deadpans. “I’ll handle it, love. Text me your order.”

All of a sudden, you position your hands close to your stomach, the lapels of your jacket casting them in shadow. Your fingers begin to move in a sequence that he’d recognize anywhere.

“Body flicker jutsu,” you whisper, and then you’re scurrying off without another word—but you do glance back at him to gauge his response. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the main quad’s busy thrum.

Hyunjin gapes at your retreating figure for so long that phosphenes start prancing around his field of view. Then he heads to the gym. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Hyunjin stops lacing up his shoes to see Coach Bang standing on the court’s sideline with a grim air about him. He glances at his captain, confused.

“Don’t look at me,” Minho says mid-stretch. “Godspeed.”

“Thanks, cap.” Useless.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. It’s all fluorescent lights and spotless white walls, the only decorative fixture a picture of his siblings, parents, and dog in front of the Sydney Opera House, framed and facing him atop his desk. Hyunjin once snuck the thing into the bathroom, an innocent plot to satiate his curiosity, and promptly discovered the man’s propensity for violence. He’s packing beneath those dry-cleaned polos, by the way.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “You can read, right?”

“Yes, coach,” he sighs. Everyone’s expectations for him are subterranean.

From: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Not good See email from Hwang’s antopology professor below . He submitted the complete script of the Trolls movie instead of his mid term paper and now he’s failing the class . Not good . Sort out ASAP JP Sent from my iPad

Bang snatches up his mouse and scrolls, his ears turning scarlet. “Wrong email.”

“Yep.”

From: Kim Kyeyoung «[email protected]» To: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» Subject: Regarding Hwang Hyunjin To Director of Athletics Park, I am writing to inform you that, as of yesterday, Mr. Hwang Hyunjin has a D- (64.9%) in ANTH 111: Cultural Anthropology, due to his submission of the complete script of a kids’ movie instead of his midterm paper. It is disappointing to see Mr. Hwang trivialize and ridicule my class to such a degree. Please see to it that he reorganizes his priorities lest his Student-Athlete Participation Agreement do so for him. Regards, Kim Kyeyoung Professor of Anthropology

“That’s bullshit!”

“We’re in agreement there.” Bang folds his arms over his chest, throws his foot over his knee. “Do you know what your Student-Athlete Participation Agreement says?”

“Does anyone?” Hyunjin scoffs. Bang whips out a form and brings it to eye level, the thing covered from top to bottom in microscopic Times New Roman. “No way you just had that.”

“I had it delivered ten minutes ago,” Bang confesses, then clears his throat and begins to recite. “All student-athletes must complete the academic term with a C or higher in all courses, should they wish to continue their participation in athletics thereafter.”

Hyunjin stiffens. “What the fuck? I’ve never heard—”

“If any Department of Athletics personnel,” Bang continues, raising his voice, “have reason to believe that a student-athlete will not be able to satisfy this requirement, they are encouraged to utilize resources such as academic advising or peer tutoring in guiding said student-athlete back onto the correct path.”

He shoves the piece of paper across his desk. “Read that name aloud for me.”

Hyunjin stares at the signature at the bottom of the page, scrawled so carelessly that most of it deviates away from its designated line. There is a rare hollowness in his chest that he recognizes as anxiety. With it comes a glimpse of a life without volleyball, the question of what little of him would remain.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” he says under his breath.

The office goes silent. Bang tucks the form back into his drawer. It closes with a gentle click.

Then comes the yelling.

“The Trolls movie? Trolls?! Are you fucking with me, Hwang?”

“It was a cultural reset! The pinnacle of modern media! How’s that for anthropology?”

“BAD!” Bang explodes, gesturing to the email emphatically. “VERY, VERY BAD!”

Hyunjin slumps over, dejected.

“You’ve never had trouble with school before.” He leans over his desk imposingly. “What the hell happened this semester? What changed?”

Nothing is the first answer that comes to mind, but Hyunjin’s pulse spikes like a lie detector. Upon the inside of his eyes replays a scene of a certain someone with watermelon bangs doing teleportation jutsu at him from a few yards away, wearing a smile made of some kind of space dust that astronomists haven’t discovered yet.

He grits his teeth, annoyed. This is what happens when he thinks.

“Beats me,” he fibs. “Typical junior year stress, maybe.”

“Does any of it have to do with Piazza?” 

Hyunjin shudders.

It just might, actually.

Modesty has no place in the career he’s had: high school national champion turned ace hitter in both the South Korean U21 roster and regular rotation for Seoul National University, the best collegiate volleyball team in the country. His name has lived at the top of ranking lists and the center of gold medals since he turned old enough to qualify for them; the press believes him the instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution. It’s a mouthful, he knows.

It was never a question that he would go professional; the question was who he should talk to and where he would go.

At the start of the school year, Bang, acting in place of the agent he was advised to find and never bothered to, gave him a list of people to reach out to. On the very top was none other than Roberto Piazza, the chairman and head coach of Allianz Milano, one of the most eminent club teams in the world—and current home to Hyunjin’s personal idol, outside hitter Ishikawa Yuki.

Hyunjin thought his poor coach had finally succumbed to his old age. The thought of stepping onto the same court as Ishikawa felt sacrilegious, let alone donning the red, white, and navy blue of Allianz Milano with him. But Bang slapped him on the back of the neck and reminded him that going professional was equal parts preparation and opportunity; he was never going to know the answers to questions he didn’t ask. Hyunjin was coerced to fire off an introductory email despite his reservations.

Piazza replied within the week.

For the last five months, Hyunjin has been fighting with tooth and nail to manage his expectations. He scrolls past the team’s social media posts like they burn his eyes. He replies to Piazza’s emails right before working out with Changbin under the assumption that whatever the shredded libero does to him will eviscerate his brain. If his world is made of dreams, this is the one at its very core, imbued with destructive potential the second it became attainable.

But that’s the last five months. The last five weeks have been you kicking him in the shin because he’s laughing (or trying to make you laugh) and the professor is staring; you listening to him rant and rave about volleyball when he knows you couldn’t care less about the sport; you relaying the contents of your class readings like hot gossip, your eyes wild and hands flying around because you can’t contain your excitement. You, you, you.

He cards a hand through his air, regaining focus. “You know how I feel about Piazza.”

“Expect the worst, hope for the best.” Bang’s chair skids backwards as he stands up. “I think it’s a good approach.”

Suddenly, he is directly in front of Hyunjin, low enough to meet his eyes. His hands rest upon his shoulders firmly.

“But hope is hungry, and it will consume you if you let it,” he says. “Do not let it, Hyunjin. I’m not asking.”

Even while being squeezed to a pulp and regarded with the cold intensity of a statue, Hyunjin can’t help but feel anchored, somehow, to the floor of this miserable office. Protected.

Bang lets go of him. “I’m not asking you to find a tutor by the end of the week, either.”

Hyunjin groans. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”

A set of bandaged fingers appear in your periphery to place a paper cup onto your laptop. Accompanying the smell of fresh coffee is that of smoky rose, as decidedly douchey as ever.

“I thought you said your order was complicated.”

You look up from your phone to see Hyunjin plop into the adjacent seat. His long, caramel-colored hair is damp and unstyled in the aftermath of a morning shower, droplets of water pearling on the lapels of a navy blue windbreaker, layered over a white long sleeve. You recognize the outfit by now as game gear.

“Was it not?” You ask.

“It was an Americano, love. I walked up to the cashier and placed an order for an Americano.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you could handle that much.” He flips you off as you squint at the cup. “Someone wrote their number on the lid, by the way.”

“What? Really?”

“No.”

He shoves you hard enough for your upper body to drape over the opposite armrest; you’re still cackling by the time you’ve straightened up again.

“Why did you get this, anyway?” Hyunjin grumbles. “I thought you had a sweet tooth.”

“I do, but you don’t.”

Only then does the fool understand that you had no intention of charging him in coffee just for a haircut reveal. He takes back the coffee hesitantly.

“Thanks,” he says at last. “Nice of you.”

“I know, right? Hated it,” you respond, and he almost chokes on his first sip.

You almost choke on nothing when Kim Seungmin materializes in the aisle adjacent. He holds out a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “Yo.”

Hyunjin dabs it up mid-sip. “I fully forgot you were in this class.”

“Well, I’m due for my weekly appearance.” Seungmin slips into the seat directly below you, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you say, somehow managing to stumble over the single syllable the word has. You thank your lucky stars that you fixed your hair yesterday.

You like Kim Seungmin. Not just in the cutesy, crushy way, but in the “I would relinquish all of my rights for you” way where you spend every waking moment cursing out whatever stroke of misfortune placed Hyunjin in the seat next to you instead of him. He’s funny, gorgeous, and talented—a vocal performance major with a student-athlete contract—and you think your infatuation is more than justified. Hyunjin thinks it’s hilarious.

You side-eye your blonde adversary, prepared to see one of three things: a suppressed laugh, a dramatic eye-roll, or a mature kissy face that usually results in the first option. You’re met with something far more worrisome.

He’s thinking.

That can’t be good.

Suddenly, his phone screen lights up with a text that temporarily wipes the conspiratorial gleam from his eye. Hyunjin scans it over and groans. “Can this guy do his fucking job?”

“He wouldn’t have to if you didn’t quit,” Seungmin answers. “I’ll never forget you, Manager Hwang.”

“Shut up.” You peer at Hyunjin, silently requesting an explanation. “Our captain is forcing us to help him look for a new team manager. We need one for playoffs because of some stupid U-League rule—Seung, why do you look morose?”

“I’m mourning.” Seungmin does look morose indeed. “Hyunjin committed larceny last year and our coach punished him by making him our team manager for the rest of the season. It was so funny.”

Hyunjin slides down his seat. “It was the worst experience of my life.”

Neither man seems inclined to elaborate on the mention of larceny. You choose to digress. “Can I ask why?”

“He had to be responsible,” Seungmin whispers. “For other people.”

The top of Hyunjin’s head stops right next to your armrest. You reach over and pat his hair in faux sympathy. “Poor thing.”

“Hardass refused to do it again this year, so now we’re recruiting.” Seungmin props an elbow upon the back of his chair, looks at you contemplatively. “I don’t suppose you have four hours to spare every day.”

Hyunjin scoffs from below you. Loudly. “This one? Team manager?”

“I can see it.”

“I can see killing myself, maybe.”

The next time you reach for him is to hit his forehead. A crisp smack resounds around the barren lecture hall. Hyunjin cusses into his seat cushion.

“Seems like a great candidate to me,” Seungmin muses, and the warm smile he gives you mirrors onto your face before you can think better of it. God, it’s pretty. You wonder how it would feel pressed against your own.

Hyunjin is now completely out of sight and halfway onto the floor. “I miss when you didn’t come to class, Seungmin.”

Eighty minutes later, you’ve just emerged from the classroom when Seungmin calls out to you. You come to such a sudden halt that Hyunjin almost trips over you, but you barely notice him stumble, utterly enraptured by the hand Seungmin brings to the strands of hair by your ear, the fingers that dust your cheek as they pluck a small piece of lint from out of the tresses.

“Sorry.” He flicks it away with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t unsee it.”

You manage to thank him just before your whole body ceases to function. Hyunjin sidesteps the two of you, yawning.

Seungmin excuses himself not too long after you reach the main quad. You also turn to leave, sparing Hyunjin a curt farewell in the process. He hooks his pointer finger around the handle at the top of your backpack and lugs you backwards with infuriating ease.

“I didn’t like that at all,” you say.

“I don’t care. I have something to tell you.”

“You have a kid, don’t you?”

“Wha—huh? Who do you think I am?”

“The one-night-stand’s poster child. The champion of the contraception industry.”

“Yeah, contraception industry. It’s right there in the name.”

You can’t argue with that. “What do you have to tell me?”

A shadow of hesitation flits across Hyunjin’s face. Your smile falters. Is it possible that you’re about to have a serious conversation with him for the first time? Maybe you should’ve saved the secret son bit for another time.

“I’m failing anthro.”

So much for a serious conversation. 

“Come again?”

He repeats the mystifying statement.

“You’re joking.” The look on his face says otherwise, though, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair. “You’re failing anthro?”

“I just said that, yes.”

“You’re failing anthropology?”

“Mhm.”

“Just so we’re clear—you’re failing Introduction to Cultural Anthropology?”

“Yes. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

This is the best day of your life. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Yeah, well, our professor has no media literacy,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Anyways, I was thinking—”

“Wow! Congratulations. That’s a big—oomf—”

Hyunjin puts his entire hand over your face. Your mangled noises of protest go unacknowledged.

“I was thinking,” he continues, pushing your head around like a stick shift, “you and I can work out some kind of deal.”

You shove his wrist off you with a revolted groan. “I think I just ate some athletic tape.”

“Happens. You wanna hear the deal or not?”

“Does it involve ingesting more sports equipment?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Just tell me the deal, boy.”

“Alright.” He takes a deep breath. “If you help me pass this class, I’ll set you up with Seungmin.”

Your head performs a triple-axel on your neck. You are unable to respond for what feels like multiple hours. Finally: “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

“On which part?”

“All of them. Everything.”

Hyunjin sighs, then scans the courtyard. His gaze settles on the student union a little ways off. “Are you hungry?”

You pick up a sandwich and a smoothie in a state of nervous stupor. One would think it’s the prime minister you’re about to have lunch with and not an imbecilic left-side hitter eating from three different entrees at the same time.

He’s chosen a table a few yards away from a planter of flowering cherry blossom trees. You feel jealous eyes on the side of your face as you take a seat across from Hyunjin, but they don’t know that his telephone pole legs still bump against yours even with them drawn as close to your body as anatomically possible. Or that he’s drawing up a literal Ponzi scheme on your sandwich wrapper. You wager you’ve had better company.

“You like anthropology. I like listening to you talk about anthropology.” He traces over the wrapper’s left corner. “And I kinda want you to boss me around. That weird?”

“Yes, definitely,” you mumble around a mouthful of bread. “Go on.”

“Conclusion one: you should be my tutor.” He taps in place as if applying a finishing touch, then swaps to the opposite side. “You also like my teammate, but he’s neck-deep in volleyball and music this semester, which makes him hard to get a hold of—for most people.”

“Let me guess. Not for you.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw.” His British accent is nightmarish. “Seung and I live in the same building. We get dinner when we go back from practice together. Conclusion two: you should come with us.”

“To dinner or to practice?”

“To both. Which brings us to my third and final conclusion—”

He slams a fist onto the center of the wrapper.

“—you should manage our team.”

“I knew it!” You slam the table as well, your smoothie wobbling upon impact. “You’re trying to swindle me! You can’t pay for my labor with more labor. What do you take me for?”

“It’s not labor, dumbass! Ask our last manager! He didn’t do shit!”

“Yeah? Who was your last manager?”

“Me!”

Oh, right. “But you hated it!”

“I hate everything that isn’t playing volleyball. Try again.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “You said you’d kill yourself if I managed you.”

Hyunjin starts balling up your sandwich wrapper. “It’s true. I thought about you and my coach getting along and promptly got a rash. But it makes so much sense: you do whatever you want during practice, tutor me afterwards, and then you and Seung can eyefuck over ramen or something. My coach hops off my dick, you hop on Seung’s—”

“STOP!” A girl drops her receipt not too far away, startled by your outburst. “Stop right there. I get it. Stop.”

“It’s a good plan.” He slings the paper ball towards the nearest trash can. It drops into the hole without so much as a brush against the rim. “You know it is.”

You’re loath to admit that you do. “When did you even come up with all this?”

He flicks a thumb in the direction of your anthropology class. No fucking wonder he’s failing.

“What is this, mock trial?”

The owner of this voice is the third man you’ve seen today donning that navy windbreaker, white long-sleeve combo. He has a face that reminds you of your neighbor’s cat from back home, sleek and sharp and only slightly sinister. There’s a dash of humor in his expression as he approaches your table like he’s enjoying the company of a court jester.

“Slamming tables like fuckin’ tariff lawyers,” the cat-man hums, lifting a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “I could see it from all the way inside.”

“Captain!” Hyunjin crows, dabbing him up without missing a beat. They really do that like breathing. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”

“Really? I thought you’d be avoiding me like the rest of our homunculus team.”

“I would never.”

“You did. Yesterday. When you saw me and started running in the opposite direction.” He pauses for emphasis. “As fast as possible.”

“Well, that was yesterday. Today is a new day.” Hyunjin tosses you a proud glance. “And today, I bring you a new team manager.”

You stiffen. “I haven’t—”

“Is that so!” When the stranger smiles at you, you feel the same satisfaction you did every time the cat let you scratch her on the chin. “Music to my ears. What’s your name, cutie?”

You catch Hyunjin’s eye across the table; he nods enthusiastically as if saying go on, then. You briefly picture yourself strangling him with his own athletic tape. You then picture yourself hopping on Seungmin’s—

Rigidly, you throw a hand out to the cat-man, your face aflame.

“Y/N,” you grumble. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

He shakes on it heartily. “Likewise. I’m Minho. Welcome to the team.”

“Yes, welcome to the team,” Hyunjin parrots, looking positively jolly. You gnash your teeth together so hard your jaw throbs.

He’s lucky that his proposal holds so much water. He’s lucky that you don’t plan to strangle him until after you try that eyefucking thing.

You do kick him under the table, though.

The team has five weeks to prepare for the Korean University League, the biggest college-level volleyball tournament in the country. You have five days to learn how the hell athletic tape works. You can’t tell which is the bigger endeavor.

“I’m going to cause him irreversible skeletal damage,” you tell Changbin.

The team’s libero is twice as kind as he is talented, a full-time sweetheart working part-time at the university’s sports medicine clinic. Only your first week on the job and you’ve already decided he’s the only person on Earth you would permit to usher you through the gym at 6:45 A.M., a roll of athletic tape pressed to your back like a pistol.

“You will not,” Changbin answers. “One, because this won’t involve his skeleton, and two, because I wouldn’t ask you to help if it did.”

“You’ve misunderstood me,” you return as the two of you stop in front of an examination room. “I want to cause him irreversible skeletal damage.”

“Oh.” He opens the door with a frown. “Oh dear.”

Inside, Hyunjin is sitting cross-legged on top of a taping table, fitted in a loose gray tee and athletic shorts. He watches in pessimistic silence as you enter the room and beeline straight towards the shelf on the right. You slip a thick binder into your hands and bury your nose inside it without so much as a greeting.

“I am going to get maimed,” Hyunjin tells Changbin.

“Have some faith, both of you,” Changbin replies sternly. You find the pages you’re looking for and begin poring over them like you’re cramming for an exam. “You’ll be fine, Jinnie. Y/N studied.”

“Studied?” He repeats. “For this?”

“I’m pretty sure Quizlets were made.”

“Three, to be exact," you interject, sticking out your hand. “Now tape me.”

Hyunjin mouths the words tape me in baffled silence. The latter obliges your request with a smile. “See? What could go wrong?”

The answer to that, actually, is a lot. Especially after Changbin gets called away to help stretch out a teammate named Felix who allegedly “sprained his ass,” leaving Hyunjin to you and your binder.

You detect no smoky rose in the air around him today, just the subtle smells of cedar and cypress—laundry detergent or shampoo, maybe. Figures he doesn’t wear that insufferable cologne to practice.

“Go easy on me, yeah?”

While Hyunjin’s tone is teasing, yours is downright somber.

“I can’t promise anything.”

With that, you turn your palms face-up in a silent request for his hand.

A few strands of hair fall into your face as you lean in for a better look. It’s the first time you’ve seen his fingers untaped; they’re pretty, long and slender and surprisingly manicured, but also battered in their delicacy, the veins running over the back of his hand and forearm prominent, his bottom knuckles discolored from the healing bruises they bear. His hard work is palpable upon the smooth skin as evidently as if tattooed.

Hyunjin says your name in close proximity. You respond with an absent hum.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“No. Maybe a little.” You let his hand fall free and go to rummage for supplies. “Fine, yes. Very.”

“But you made Quizlets. You’re prepared for anything.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You realize only after spotting the gentle smile on his face that he’s making fun of you. “I hate you.”

“Actually,” he hums, “I think you care about me, love. That’s why you’re nervous.”

“Nonsense—I care about disappointing Changbin. That’s it.”

“And me. And hopping on Seungmin’s dick. All these things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

You try to tackle him. Hyunjin catches your hands a few inches away from his face, fingers closing around your wrists with obnoxious agility.

“Have you lost your mind?” You whisper-shout, your face on fire. “Don’t bring that up here. I’ll maim you for real.”

The laugh that explodes out of him throws his entire body backwards, turns his eyes to crescent moons and his mouth into a little rectangle. You hate that you don’t hate when that happens.

“My bad, my bad. It slipped out. I won’t—”

One incremental shift of Hyunjin’s body later, you find that you’re precariously, alarmingly close to one another.

So much so that you notice the mole beneath his left eye for the first time, that you're nearly cross-eyed looking at it. That the tip of your nose actually brushes against his before you pull away with a quiet intake of breath. 

Things are awkward between you often, you’ve realized recently. You’re both professional yappers, always quick to digress, quick to find a new topic to bicker about before the awkwardness marinates. But hours later you’ll look back on the interaction and still remember how the air shifted: like a layer of dust had been blown away and something untouched and unknown was discovered just underneath.

Since you’ve met him, Hyunjin has spent more time on your nerves than on your mind. You’re not exactly losing sleep over such a circumstantial acquaintance; you know that his presence in your life will end the way it began, naturally and anticlimactically and inside the ANTH 111 lecture hall. Still, it doesn’t go unnoticed when your heart and stomach launch into an elaborate gymnastics routine in the wake of something he says or does, just as they’re doing now.

Hyunjin glances into your right eye a moment, then your left. The mole just below his left eye disappears when he smiles, the expression soft, saccharine, and sincere. How anyone casually looks the way he does is beyond your abilities of comprehension.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Your face continues to burn, now perhaps for different reasons. “What for?”

He lets go of your wrist, sweeps the lock of hair that keeps getting in your eyes behind the cuff of your ear.

“Caring about me.”

Then he flicks your forehead. You recoil with a quiet ow.

“Now stop stalling and tape me, dumbass.”

“Okay,” you mutter, rubbing the injury tenderly. “No need to get violent.”

It turns out the arduous taping procedure described in the instruction manual is for serious hand injuries. Hyunjin splints his fingers together for support, not rehabilitation, so it takes all of five minutes for him to talk you through his process. You finish taping both of his hands with nineteen minutes to spare. So maybe the Quizlets were overkill.

As you’re walking him down to practice, you take his hand and lift it to eye level, scanning your craftsmanship dubiously. “It’s not too tight, is it?”

“It’s perfect.” He swivels the hand around and grabs onto your entire face, the sensation by now eerily familiar. “Want another taste?”

You shove him down the stairs that remain. Unfortunately, there are only two. “You are truly grotesque.”

The gym has come to life since you arrived earlier this morning, now illuminated by shining ceiling lights in addition to the sun spilling through high, narrow windows. Most of the team has yet to step onto the court, still stretching or jogging along the sidelines: Minho and Coach Bang are talking strategy on the bench, the coach taking notes on a handheld whiteboard every now and then; Changbin is leaning over a recumbent Felix below the scoreboard, presumably trying to fix his ass.

The only one already with a ball in hand is Seungmin, setting to himself by the net. Once, twice, thrice straight up in the air, and then he glances in your direction and sends the fourth towards the left side of the court in a buoyant arc.

You only glean bits and pieces of the next few seconds. Hyunjin is at your side one moment, making a break for the net the next. His arms draw backwards in perfect synchrony. Feet hit the floor with laserlike intent. His entire body unravels like a fraying chrysalis as he rises to meet the ball, pounds it over the net and into the ground at an angle so clean that the sound of its landing resounds within your ribcage. It rebounds over the railing of the second floor and barely misses the doorway of the examination room you just emerged from.

Hyunjin drops lightly back onto his feet, following the ball’s tumultuous trajectory with proud eyes. A leftover breeze tosses a strand of hair over the bridge of your nose, and time starts moving again.

“Oi, this isn’t your backyard! Go pick that up!” Their coach booms, though his words lack their usual bitterness after what he just witnessed his ace hitter do.

Hyunjin swivels towards Seungmin first. “Crazy bitch. What the fuck was that?”

“Lower and faster. Further from the net too,” Seungmin returns. “How’d it feel?”

The grin on Hyunjin’s face reminds you of a wildfire, untamed and all-consuming and frightening in its fervor. “Like we just won everything.”

He tousles your hair as he jogs past you and back up the stairs to fetch the volleyball. Seungmin waves at you with one hand and palms another ball into his other. His face is warm and bare, his slim build flattered by his volleyball gear. You’ve witnessed few people so nice to look at and even fewer things as elegant as his setting form. But you are still thinking about Hyunjin—and you can’t move.

It is debilitating, watching somebody do the very thing they were destined for.

A little less than a week later, Hyunjin is approaching hour three of spewing hot garbage into a Word document when he decides to give up and call you. 

“Hello?” He immediately starts laughing. “Where the fuck are you?”

You poke the top of your head into the shot of your ceiling, gesturing to your headband. “My face is preoccupied at the moment.”

“Oh, you have to show me. Please.”

You flip your phone up for no more than half a second. A camera shutter goes off, followed by a shriek so loud that it peaks your mic.

“Motherfucker!”

He basically sprints to his camera roll. His prize: you with your face slathered in cleanser, hair pinned back by a Miffy headband, looking like the abominable snowman if he liked cute merchandise.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

“You’ll be punished, Hwang.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You brandish your middle finger at him in response. He props his phone up against his computer screen with a chuckle. 

“Aaanyways, I have a thesis statement to run by you.”

The first thing you did as Hyunjin’s tutor was help draft an email to Professor Kim, begging her to let him resubmit the two essays he royally botched. She replied with a lengthy quotation from her syllabus, specifically the section that talked about (and prohibited) resubmissions, but ended up making an exception for Hyunjin on account of the “truly piteous timbre” of his email. You fell out of your chair laughing when he read you her response.

“You should’ve opened with that.”

“I tried, hello? Someone distracted me!”

“Read. It. Before I change my mind.”

You spend a few minutes at most on the thesis itself, advising him to avoid passive voice, answer the prompt, establish a refutable argument, the works. Then he asks you a question about the research topic itself, allusions to the afterlife in Ancient Egyptian artwork, and the tutoring session takes a turn into what feels like a podcast episode.

You talk about the God of Death, Anubis, and his connections to the underworld; the elaborate, lavish funerary rituals intended to ensure the souls of the dead traveled safely; the vibrant murals that flanked their final resting spots as pictorial requests for divine protection. And you talk about them all with such confidence, such eloquence, that it’s as if you’re leading him through a history museum rather than talking to your phone as you do your skincare. He could listen to you for hours. He does, actually.

Around 1 A.M., Hyunjin stops typing mid-sentence when you come into frame for the first time, collapsing into your bed with a sigh of relief. Your eyes are soft and sleepy as they blink at your screen, strands of damp hair clinging to your cheeks. He feels his heart physically shift inside his ribcage when your mouth stretches into a yawn. It is the same sensation as the time you shot him a smile over your shoulder and he couldn’t move for ten minutes.

With that, his attention span has run its course.

“Baby,” he interrupts gently. “Let’s stop here, okay? You seem tired.”

You open your mouth as if to protest, only to yawn again.

“I suppose I am. Will you keep working tonight?”

“I think so. I hit my stride.”

“Text me if you have questions, then. I’ll respond when I wake up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Your lips curve into the smallest of smiles. It copies onto Hyunjin’s face incurably quickly. 

“I had my doubts about this tutoring thing, you know.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, you told me this class was the closest thing to daily naptime you’d experienced since preschool.”

“It really is.”

“You also told me you would rather slam your tongue in a car door than read more than three sentences in one sitting.”

“I really would.”

“And you once referred to academia as ‘Virgin Village.’”

“Didn’t you come up with that?”

“No, hello? I live in that village.”

He grins. “I know. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, don’t threaten me with a good—”

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t think you would take this seriously, but I’m happy to be proven wrong.”

Hyunjin leans back. “Well, turns out I might give a fuck about anthropology after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

You pretend to punch him through the screen. It’s so cute that he forgets to think before he opens his mouth next.

“But I do give a fuck about you.”

There’s nothing crazy about the statement. You’re friends, sort of. You manage his team. It would be strange if he didn’t. But the seconds that follow are terrible, a silent prophecy of something disastrous, like a cloud of rubble before an avalanche, the standstill during a star’s final breath. And Hyunjin’s heartbeat is hounding against his ears like a performance of traditional taiko.

He says good night in a haste. The call ends. He stares at the wall of his bedroom in a muddled haze for who knows how long.

Then he opens his texts.

Hyunjin: We have team bonding tomorrow btw Hyunjin: Don’t forget Y/N: i forgot. Y/N: pick me up at 6:45? Hyunjin: 🫡

He picks you up at 7:53.

You approach his car with your fists balled and your eyebrows knitted together like a mean old curmudgeon and he’s walking too close to your lawn.

“His fault,” Hyunjin says before you start yelling.

Minho simpers at you through his open window. “Hey, you! So glad you could join us!”

You fix the man with a judgmental glare as you slide into the backseat. “Aren’t you the captain? Why are you this late?”

“Whoa, okay. I would’ve scheduled this for earlier if I knew right now was honesty hour.”

“You did schedule it for earlier,” you say. “You scheduled it for way earlier.”

“Yeah, well, you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me, Minho.”

“I can too. Tell ‘em, Hwang.”

“I want nothing to do with this.”

When you step through the doors of the arcade, you’re met with a surge of sensory input that you haven’t experienced in years. The air hangs thick with the smells of greasy concessions; everywhere you look are flashing screens and neon signs, stuffed animals and fading posters; clamoring against your ears are the sounds of games being won or lost, of balls being pocketed or launched, and of a horde of fully grown men spectating a match of Dance Dance Revolution so passionately (and loudly) that they’ve scared everyone away from that side of the room. You recognize the current competitors as Changbin and Jeongin.

“I’ll go pay,” Hyunjin says. “How much time do we want?”

“Infinity,” Minho answers. Hyunjin doesn’t move. “Two hours.”

He flashes him a thumbs-up. “And you?”

“I’m okay, I think.”

“No you’re not,” the two men answer in perfect unison.

You glance between them warily. “I don’t mind watching, seriously. I don’t even know how most of these games work—”

“There’s Tetris,” Hyunjin cuts in.

You purchase an hour.

One would imagine the point of the evening is to break the SNU men’s volleyball team, not to bond them. You’ve never seen so many strained blood vessels in your life. Nor have you heard of half the insults they spew at each other as the night goes on. Felix has to pay a fee for lodging an air hockey puck in the side of the MarioKart machine. Changbin loses at skee-ball and has to down an XL slushie like it’s a shot. It’s a scary amount of boyishness expressed in scary ways.

But they’re happy. You’ve picked up on it when they’re on the court, noticed the raw elation they emanate just from playing together. Yet, their closeness has never been more evident to you than tonight. The men are either laughing or making someone else laugh, arms draped over each other at all times, equally happy to celebrate victories as they’re eager to punish losses. It dawns on you at some point that you’re glad to be here with them, grateful to be a part of something so special—especially because there’s Tetris.

“Have you ever considered going pro?” Hyunjin asks over your shoulder.

You waited until most of the team was distracted to slink off to your beloved machine. Hyunjin tagged along, undoubtedly with the intention of making fun of you, only to be rendered speechless by your mastery. He’s been watching in a state of stupor, forearms propped against the back of your chair.

You don’t respond for a while, too focused on a precarious patch to even blink, let alone partake in conversation.

“I already did,” you finally answer.

“Sorry, what? You played professional Tetris?”

“In middle school. Then I got bored and switched to backgammon.” You pause. “Then I got bored again and switched to chess.”

“How do you look like this with these hobbies?”

Your run ends a few minutes later with a somber sound effect. You turn around in your seat with an anguished groan. “I think I’m washed.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “You just set a new record by three hundred thousand points.”

“It’s a small pond,” you say, and an idea occurs to you. “Do you wanna try?”

“I get the feeling I don’t have a choice.”

“Then you’re smarter than you look.”

“Well, you look—”

His eyes move between your shoes and your face, and then his voice is an inaudible mutter as he sinks into your seat. You think you hear something along the lines of unfair.

“What was that?”

“Ugly. I said you look ugly.” He cracks his knuckles. “Now let’s break some fuckin' blocks.” 

When Hyunjin learns that the pieces can be rotated (so six or seven attempts later), a man walks into the arcade. 

He has hair the color of dark chocolate, the face of a fairy prince—and he’s with someone. The two of them appear arm in arm, laughing at something he said. He looks at this person the way astronomers do to the sky.

Something shatters inside you like old porcelain.

Your hands loosen around the back of Hyunjin’s chair. You can’t watch. You can’t think. You can only feel a void of disappointment rip open, stretch over you like an elongating shadow.

“Seung!” That’s Jisung, you think. “You made it!”

“Yo, sorry we’re late.” That’s Seungmin. That is undoubtedly Seungmin. “Dinner took longer than I thought.”

“Min, are you sure I’m allowed to be here?” You don’t know who this voice belongs to and you’re not sure you want to. “I feel like I’m intruding—”

“Hwang,” you say suddenly. “I have to go.”

He turns around, confused. An unattended block falls into a terrible spot on the screen behind him. ”Already?”

“I forgot I had an important call to make.” You turn away, training your eyes on the patterned carpet. “Sorry. I’ll see you around.”

You have touched Hyunjin’s hands many times. He’s asked you to tape his fingers every day since the first; he likes the way you cut off his circulation, says it helps him hit harder. But you never hold his hand so much as you examine it, the act stiff and unfeeling, cordoned within the professional pretense of athletic treatment. 

Now, Hyunjin catches your hand like a gardener repotting their favorite flower: delicately, careful of leaving its roots intact and petals untouched, but firmly, securely, so the flower continues to stand tall even when it’s been extracted from the soil, not even a speck of dirt slipping through the cracks between their fingers. That is the image you conjure when he slips his between yours, his metal rings cold where his fingertips are warm.

He says your name. There is a pinch of pain in the word, and you know that he knows.

“Do you want to be alone?”

You have never been asked such a thing—you have never asked to be asked such a thing—but, for some reason, the question brings tears to your eyes. 

“Yes, please,” you whisper, and you pull your hand away.

When you stalk past him, you hear Jisung notice you, call out to you, a note of worry in his question. You also count three pairs of eyes on your back: one concerned, the next confused, and the last you are wholly incapable of meeting. 

Unknown to you is the fourth pair fixed upon the top of the Tetris machine, where you’ve left your phone.

You emerge into the parking lot. The frigid air stills your mind for a fraction of a second, the last moment of mental quietude you will allow yourself that night.

Hyunjin’s right; the team manager doesn’t have to do much.

Coach Bang allows you to come to whichever practices and games you feel like, during which you might at most lug around a ballbag or fill someone’s waterbottle before holing up somewhere to do your own thing. But you like the people you work for too much to do so little for them, so you attend everything  your schedule allows. 

Last week, you could be found helping Minho put up the volleyball nets before practice, your laughter echoing throughout the spacious gym as he complained to you about his biochemistry professor’s distinct “cabbage scent.” Or running to grab materials for Changbin as he treated his teammates’ injuries like you were assisting an orthodontist giving someone a root canal. The dinner invitations you extended to Seungmin were always turned down, but his teammates were more than happy to assist you and Hyunjin in your quest to establish the best kimbap joint in the area once and for all. You even had a heart-to-heart with Coach Bang during one of the team’s water breaks, in which you managed to get half a smile out of the guy; Hyunjin was convinced that was his way of asking you to elope. You spent more time in the gymnasium those ten days than you had your entire college career.

Then came the arcade.

Five days have come and gone. You haven’t attended practice since, but you still see Hyunjin every morning at anthropology. The two of you sit in uncharacteristic silence for most of the lectures. You’ve taken the best notes of your life. He doesn’t mention the previous weekend; he doesn’t mention much of anything. 

In person, that is.

That Friday afternoon, you’re reading on the terrace of the library when you receive a text. It’s from Hyunjin, a two-minute voice note. You hesitate for a moment, stick a pencil into the gutter of your textbook to save your place, and slip your earbuds in. You listen to it.

Then you listen to it again.

And again as you wrap up your study session and go home. Again as you cook yourself dinner and load the dishwasher. Again as you shrug on a jacket and pocket your keys, setting off on the familiar trek to the gym.

As for what you plan to do there on a Friday night, long after the team has finished practice, you haven’t the slightest clue. You continue to move regardless, fueled by the feeling that there is where you need to be.

Coach Bang is leaving the building just as you’re approaching it. He halts in his footsteps and raises his eyebrows when he notices you. The man has always been difficult to read, but his face is exceptionally opaque now. Maybe it’s the shadowy landscape; more likely it’s the uneasiness that began to mount within you once you noticed the lights in the gym were still on.

“It’s been a while,” he greets.

“Coach,” you return, lowering your head. “I want to apologize for—”

“Save it,” he says, not unkindly. “There’s nothing to apologize for, alright? The team is lucky to have you.”

You manage a grateful smile. “I’ll be back starting next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He starts to walk away, stops himself, and glances into the illuminated building. “I would give him some space, by the way.”

Your uneasiness morphs into anxiety as you watch his broad back retreat into the shadows. You remain outside the gym for a few minutes more, accompanied by the distant melodies of cricket chorales and the muffled squeaking of shoes against laminated hardwood, the harsh sounds of flesh meeting leather.

Briskly, you walk home, rummage around, and return to the gym ten minutes later with your textbook tucked beneath your arm. This time, you unlock and enter the building without a moment of hesitation. 

Hyunjin is positioned multiple yards behind the service line, rotating a volleyball in his hands. A high toss, two resounding steps, and a collision like the crack of a whip. The previous ball has barely landed in the furthest corner of the court when he’s picking up the next, retreating to the same spot to do it all again. His tank top is the color of charcoal over his sweaty skin, his hair auburn where it’s plastered to his neck. He’s alone.

You only catch sight of Hyunjin’s face when you descend the stairs. His expression is crystalline, hardened with concentration and fortified by courage, but fragile all at once, rendered delicate by fatigue and fear, spilling from his every seam and splintering off his person like a broken vase. You recognize it as clearly as if you were looking at a picture of yourself from the worst years of your life.

“I was told to give you space,” you call out, and Hyunjin drops the volleyball he’s holding.

His lips fall apart. Nothing comes out of them. The only sounds to follow are your footsteps as you make your way towards the bleachers, a vertical wall of plastic now that they’ve been retracted for the night. You fold your legs into a criss-cross as you take a seat at their base.

“Is this enough space?”

More silence. You gesture to the volleyball nervously.

“Don’t make me go further, please. I’m not ready to die.”

Finally, this earns you a smile. It’s not much, but it loosens the nervous coils in your heart, permits your lungs to contract once more, and it remains on his face as he swipes the ball back into his hands. You open your textbook.

The rest of the night elapses in turning pages and soaring volleyballs. You don’t care for minutes or hours; you give him all the time in the world, as he did you.

The only time you glance at the clock on the wall is around midnight, when Hyunjin hobbles to the middle of the court and collapses. You’re worried at first. Then he rolls onto his back and releases a guttural groan into his hands, and your held breath comes out a laugh. You set down your book and stand up.

There’s a lake of perspiration forming around him. You pay it no mind and flop onto the floor, your eyes instantly narrowing beneath the fluorescent lights. 

“How do you see under these things?”

“I don’t,” he returns. “I complained about it to Coach once.”

“And?”

“He made them brighter.” Sounds about right.

Hyunjin spends the next few minutes catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in your peripheral vision. You sift through your mind for phrases of consolation or gestures of support and come up empty. You wish you had Hyunjin’s way with words.

But you think about the way his smile reached his eyes as he thanked you for caring about him, the tenderness with which he caught your hand at the arcade, the I give a fuck about you he blurted before ending the study call. You think about the voice note. It’s not that Hyunjin has a way with words; it’s that he’s brave enough to break the silences that you can’t, like he perceives your anxiety for the aftermath, shouldering the responsibility so you won’t have to.

This cannot be his burden alone.

You inhale. “What’s on your mind?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer right away. You give up on squinting and close your eyes. The lights are still bright enough to dance around the murky darkness.

“I don’t think I know how to put it into words.”

You nearly laugh; you know how that feels. “Don’t think, just talk. I’m here.”

The same advice you gave yourself seems to work on him as well.

“Do you remember Ishikawa Yuki?”

His role model.

“He’s currently playing for a club team in Italy called Allianz Milano.” He blows out a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to their coach, Roberto Piazza, for the last six months.”

The gears in your head creak in their effort to process the implications of these words. “Holy shit, Hwang.”

“He emailed again, this morning. Said he was coming to the tournament later this month, he’s excited to see me play in person, whatever. And it hit me, finally, that this is all real. Like, this is actually happening to me. I spent all of today freaking out and asked Coach to let me stay back after practice. Usually, it wears out my brain if I tire my body, but it only half-worked today. I couldn’t wrap my head around anything. I still can’t.

“I am who I am because of that man, and now…I have a shot at playing with him. I keep asking myself why I’m not—not happier. I should be bouncing off the fucking walls, no? If I told my past self that this would be happening to him one day, he—he would—”

You open your eyes, confused by the sudden silence.

Hyunjin is sitting up next to you, staring intensely into the bleachers. You first notice the tip of his tongue prodding into his cheek, then his shuddering breath. He lifts a hand to his face, pressing against his eyes.

You stop thinking after that.

You sit up with him. When you settle your fingers around his wrist, he allows you to pull his hand back to his side. But he turns away as if trying to hide from you; he squeezes his eyes shut as if that would obstruct your view of his pain.

You reach to cradle his face, bringing him back to you. The cuff of your sleeves wipe at the saltwater on his cheeks, push the hair off his forehead with gentle sweeps. The two of you are close, close enough that your lips would meet the space between his eyes if you so much as lost your balance. His gaze traverses to your face, but you resolve not to meet it. You know you will traipse into uncharted territory the moment you do.

“Don’t fight it.” You trace over the hill of his cheek. “Healing becomes easier if you let yourself hurt. Trust me, Hyunjin.”

His first name should feel foreign on your tongue, yet you suspect the syllables have accompanied you all your life.

“You don’t have to continue if you can’t.”

“S’okay.” Hyunjin lifts your hand away from his face, presses a kiss to the base of your palm. “I want to.”

You feel yourself stumble ungracefully into the uncharted territory from before; does he do the same?

“I used to play volleyball on this expanse of cracked blacktop, behind my primary school. It was pretty brutal on my feet—I blew through so many different pairs of sneakers my mom almost made me quit.” He smiles at the memory. “But every time I came close to quitting, I’d go home and rewatch the same USA vs. Poland match from the 2008 Summer Olympics I asked my dad to record, and I’d promise myself it would be me on some other kid’s screen someday.

“That kid would tell everyone who’d listen about how cool I am. That I’m a secret superhero. That I’m living proof humans can fly if they really, really try—just like I talked about the volleyball players I grew up watching on my TV.

“The other day, Coach told me that hope would consume me. I thought it was just some senile drivel at the time, but..I think I get what he means now. I would do anything and everything to make that kid proud—even if it meant losing myself.” He lowers his head, auburn strands falling into his eyes. “That’s what’s on my mind.”

Amidst the ensuing pause, a storm approaches. It does not come in the form of rain or snow, sleet or hail, no; it is a gathering of words unsaid and emotions unacknowledged, all emerging from the deepest chambers of your heart in synchrony. The same entities you used to scapegoat for all the times things were awkward between you and Hyunjin when you were the culprit all along. You and your blind cowardice.

The storm tears open the seam of your lips. You do not resist; it’s long overdue.

“Every time Changbin sees you, he turns into a smitten schoolgirl,” you say. “He is physically unable to contain how endearing he finds you. He told me so himself.”

Hyunjin looks at you with widened eyes. You think you can see your own reflection in them, and you are the spitting image of a lighter dropped into gasoline, unstoppable in your vehemence.

“Jeongin comes to you for advice before anyone else,” you continue, “even for things related to school—which I still find hard to believe, I’m not gonna lie. But you have his best interests in mind, and it shows in everything you do for him. Of course your opinion matters more than anything in the world.

“I know you think he can’t stand you, but you are the reason Coach Bang loves this job, why he loves this sport. It’s written all over his face every time he calls you something mean, every time he makes you run another lap, every time he looks at you. You’re like a son to him. Everyone sees it but you.”

“Then there’s me.” You pause to catch your breath. “When I think about what my life used to be, I remember a lot of things. I remember loneliness. Insecurity. I remember my books and my backgammon boards and the way I taught myself to disappear inside them so the world would never find me. I remember avoiding mirrors like a vampire because I didn’t like seeing my own reflection. I remember feeling like I had to put on someone else’s personality every time I left the house because nobody would want to know me for me. All I ever wanted was a place where I could be myself, love myself, without consequence. I have yet to find that place.

“But I found a person. Someone who wouldn’t know time and place if they kicked his dick into his body. Someone who thinks instant ramen is high in nutritional value because it comes with dried vegetables. Someone who sweats the same amount of rain the Sahara Desert receives yearly—your body is not normal, by the way.”

Hyunjin giggles; it is soft and short, a small, tearful huff into the quiet air that makes you feel like you’re flying.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you say. “Your sense of humor sucks and your taste in coffee is so boring and you are the one with no media literacy, not Professor Kim. But I love spending time with you. I love who I am when I’m around you. And none of that has to do with volleyball.”

The next time you blink, you discover that he’s not the only one with tears in his eyes. How long has that been going on?

“There’s so much about you to be proud of, Hyunjin.” You give him a watery smile. “That kid will be spoiled for choice.”

When Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, you fall into each other like going to bed after a long day. Your face burrows into the crook of his neck in your embarrassment; he is laughing and crying at the same time when he mumbles something into your shoulder: “I knew you cared about me.”

You are so happy for the comedic relief you could sob. It helps that you already are.

“How the fuck are you still sweaty?” You choke out, and you think you like his cologne after all.

Six days later, Hyunjin opens the door of his apartment.

A fun-sized flurry of black and white barrages into the hallway outside and almost runs headfirst into the figure waiting there. You fall to your knees like you’ve just been gravely wounded, emitting an ear-piercing wail to match. All it takes is a few good head scratches for Kkami to stop yipping bloody murder and start whining for attention instead. 

Upon minute five of watching you and his dog cuddle in the hallway directly outside his home, Hyunjin sighs.

“Can you come inside, please? My RA will think I’m doing some freaky shit again.”

You side-eye him as you walk into his apartment, Kkami perched happily in your arms. “What, exactly, does freaky shit entail?”

He smirks as the door falls shut. “You want me to tell you or show you?”

You turn to Kkami, disgusted. “Your owner’s a bit of a pervert, my dear.”

Kkami licks you on the chin. Hyunjin’s eyes narrow to slits.

“Traitor.”

Naturally, Hyunjin’s parents chose the eve of his final anthropology exam—and the week before the tournament that will determine the trajectory of his career—to ask him to look after Kkami for a few days. He nearly canceled their plane tickets himself, but his impromptu roommate is currently ransacking your face with kisses on his couch, and he thinks your laugh complements his studio better than any decoration. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” He calls from the kitchen area.

You meander over, Kkami (still) perched happily in your arms. “What do you have?” 

“Alcohol.” He opens his fridge far enough so you can peer over his shoulder. “Americanos.”

He stops speaking.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Wait—and apple juice.”

“You are about to be a professional athlete.”

“What the Italians don’t know won’t hurt them. You want apple juice, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”

“Maybe. Can you open it for me? My hands are full.”

Hyunjin does so with far less reluctance than he feigns. You thank him jubilantly, popping the straw into your mouth.

“Let’s get this over with.”

At 10:32 P.M., all is calm. You are sitting on the floor, your back against the side of his mattress. Hyunjin is where the universe intended: curled up in bed, both him and his laptop lying on their sides. You have studied eight out of ten units in only two and a half hours, and the night is still young. Kkami is but a fluffy, sleepy Oreo by your waist.

At 10:33 P.M., the Oreo begins to retch.

You startle a foot into the air. Hyunjin is out of bed and on his feet in the blink of an eye, the very image of a dog dad on duty. He grabs three different things off the kitchen counter with one hand and scoops up the long-haired chihuahua with the other, and then he’s kicking open the door.

Seungmin appears out of thin air carrying two heaping bags of groceries. Hyunjin nearly knocks him and a month’s worth of fresh produce down four flights of stairs.

“Hyun—Kkami?” Seungmin swivels. “Yo, what the fuck is—”

Hyunjin is already out the door.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin squats off to the side, pouring fresh water into a portable dog bowl. A little ways away, Kkami is throwing up ebulliently; a set of footsteps approaches.

“What is this thing?” Seungmin squats down next to Hyunjin, picking up the piece of patterned fabric lying on the grass. 

“Kkami gets sad after throwing up,” he sighs. “His blanket makes him feel better.”

Seungmin watches the chihuahua for a few moments, a soft flinch crimping his features. “He ate too fast again?”

Hyunjin rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. Nobody’s gonna take his food from him.”

Seungmin laughs. “I didn’t even know he was on campus.”

“I picked him up last night. My parents are traveling for work—they say hi, by the way.”

“I say hi back. I miss your mom’s cooking.”

“Me too,” Hyunjin says, smiling. “She would love to cook for you again—she’s always saying you’re too skinny.”

“She really is.”

A beat passes; it is then that Hyunjin has an epiphany.

Seungmin was the one who put a volleyball in his hands for the first time. Back then, Hyunjin was the lesser troublemaker between the two of them—a concept that neither of them can wrap their heads around to this day. Seungmin suggested they use the clotheslines in Hyunjin’s backyard as a makeshift net, despite Hyunjin’s dissuading; half of Hyunjin’s father’s wardrobe caught on fire, Seungmin had a black eye for a week, and nobody knows what happened to that volleyball. The two of them have been attached at the hip ever since.

It is a crazy thing, having your best friend as a teammate; a singular flick of the wrist or a point of his shoe and Seungmin will know exactly Hyunjin wants the ball down to the net’s fraying fibers; Hyunjin will be exactly where Seungmin needs him down to the flecks of paint on the volleyball court. Hyunjin has always been Seungmin’s hitter—Seungmin, always Hyunjin’s setter. Nothing will ever change between them so long as that remains the case.

At least, that’s what Hyunjin used to think.

Learning that Seungmin was in a relationship was as much a wake-up call for Hyunjin as it was for you. At first, he was just fucking pissed; how could Seungmin be so stupid as to turn down someone like you, especially when Hyunjin had shot his mouth off about his wingman services? More importantly, how long had his best friend of eighteen years been in love, and why was he the last to know? 

Only now, as they wait for his nine-year-old chihuahua to finish barfing, does Hyunjin realize that he can’t remember the last time he and Seungmin talked. Not “talked” as in a brief exchange inside the locker room or the lecture hall, about a new approach he wants to try or what Seungmin got on number four or if he wants a ride to practice—“talked” as in talked, about Hyunjin, about Seungmin, about the eighteen years they shared, about all the years yet to come.

Hyunjin sees his setter every day; he stopped looking for his friend a long time ago. 

“Yeonwoo, right?”

He senses surprise in Seungmin without having to look at him. But he also senses a smile, a subtle show that Seungmin recognizes what he’s trying to do—and forgives him.

“Yeonwoo,” Seungmin affirms. “We’re in the same songwriting intensive this semester.”

“Also a singer?”

He shakes his head. “Piano player. Performed at the Carnegie Hall in the United States at, like, seven years old. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so talented.”

“Wow, that’s—hi, old man. You done?”

Kkami walks over with his head hung low and tail between his legs, and Hyunjin hurries to drape the pup in his favorite blanket, pulling the bowl of water in front of him in tandem. Seungmin runs a hand over the top of Kkami’s head as he hydrates.

“You’ve suffered,” he tells him solemnly, and Hyunjin snorts.

“As I was saying—that’s crazy to hear, coming from the most talented person I know. You guys looked so good together.”

“Thanks. It’s weird. I’m happy.”

“You deserve it. You really do, Kim.” They exchange smiles, and Hyunjin gives Seungmin a playful nudge. “When are you introducing us?”

“The arcade wasn’t enough?”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Whenever you want, then.”

“Dinner with my mom, dinner with Yeonwoo,” Hyunjin recounts. “I’m holding you to it.”

“Bet.”

They shake on it. If Hyunjin wasn’t already reassured by Seungmin’s smile, he knows by his clasp around his hand that they’ll be okay.

“What about you?” Seungmin asks. “Are you together yet?”

Hyunjin knew this was coming. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Seungmin strings his hands together, letting them dangle in the space between his knees. “Someone you have questions for that you’re too scared to ask. Someone who’s lived in your mind since the day you met. There’s someone like that, isn’t there?”

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek. 

Ever since that night on the gym floor, Hyunjin’s been having these dreams. By the time his alarm goes off in the morning, every detail of the dream has eluded him, leaving behind only a ghost of emotion, akin to the breeze that grazes your face moments after walking past another person.

But then he’ll get out of bed, and walk to that café on the east side of campus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There, he’ll order a vanilla latte with extra sweetener, then turn around to see you standing five feet away, holding an Americano and trying not to laugh. And he’ll just know, with everything in him, that you are where his head goes when he’s not keeping watch.

He still addresses you by the pet names you hate. He still finds any excuse to be close to you; he still pesters you like a child with a crush. But now, he calls you his baby like one wishes on a star; his eyes drift to your lips every time you’re within two feet of each other; he makes fun of your likes and dislikes only because he’s happy to know about them at all. Ever since that night on the gym floor.

It’s impossible for nothing and everything to change at once. Two people teetering on the precipice of something cannot withstand a gust of wind so powerful. He’s already hanging off the ledge, losing his grip; where are you?

Next to him, Seungmin lets out a soft laugh. “There is.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say.

“It might’ve been me, at some point,” he hums, returning his hand to scratch the back of Kkami’s ears. “But it has always been you, Hyun.”

Four floors above them and inside Hyunjin’s place, you are pacing between his fridge and his bed, nervously awaiting his and Kkami’s return.

Something catches your eye, wide and flat and hung on the wall by his bathroom door. You approach it curiously, your lips pulling into a fond smile the moment you realize all that’s in front of you.

Many of the photographs are of Hyunjin: him in his preteens, dead asleep in bed while dressed head to toe in volleyball gear, braces visible because his mouth is open; an action shot taken at what must’ve been a U21 match, the South Korean flag stitched into the shoulder of his jersey; him with half a birthday cake in front of him and the rest smeared all over his face. There are headlines, too: Underdog team earns district’s first high school volleyball state title; Hwang Hyunjin proves himself worthy of “ace spiker” label at South Korea V. Croatia U19 match; Coach Bang “Christopher” Chan leads Seoul National University to second consecutive KUL championship. There’s one—Who is Hwang Hyunjin? Meet the twenty-year-old instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution—beside which he’s written the singular word “mouthful.” You laugh; you agree.

But pinned to the corkboard is also a photograph of Minho, surrounded by stray cats in the alleyway outside a K-BBQ restaurant; his parents cradling Kkami in an apple costume; his high school volleyball team silhouetted against a pretty sunset. Him and Seungmin as kids, covered in grime and scrapes but beaming nonetheless; him and Seungmin at age nineteen, stadium lights on their backs, unadulterated elation on their faces as they charge towards each other, beaming still. Changbin piggybacking Felix through the hallways of the gym, neither of them wearing a shirt; Jisung offering Coach Bang a beer while the latter looks direly unamused (you make a mental note to ask about that one later); what looks like a Rock Lee cosplayer grimacing in the middle of your anthropology classroom.

You rush forward as if decreed by gravitational force. Not too far away is another picture of you, in which you boast a Miffy headband and a face full of foaming cleanser. Then another, your eyes narrowed like that of a sniper taking aim as you’re playing Tetris; you with so many volleyballs piled into your arms that you can’t see your own face; your cheeks squished by a bandaged hand after you lost a bet about pandas (they can swim); you clutching your stomach on the library floor, brought to hysterical tears by Professor Kim’s email. You, you, you.

You bring your pointer finger to this last image, tracing it over the curve of your own cheek. You see a dimple on your face you didn’t know you had. You realize it only comes out for him.

It has always been him.

The front door opens. A man with telephone poles for legs and a long-haired chihuahua in his arms appears behind it. You sense in him that something has changed since you last saw each other. The two of you lock eyes. 

It’s not awkward this time.

Multiple yards behind the service line, Hyunjin is rotating a volleyball in his hands. It feels solid and sentient, an extension of himself held in cotton-clad fingers. He knows how this story will end.

He moves his eyes to his best friend’s back. Four fingers flash back at him twice, signaling a high lob set to the left, the very play they’ve practiced tirelessly for the last five weeks. The breath Hyunjin blows out of his cheeks seems to crystallize in the air, almost solid in all its exhilaration. 

He bends low and throws high. His arms drop behind his body like a spread of feathered wings; his feet fall into place below him like a meteor shower, two consecutive strikes against the earth that fissure its mantle. The lights overhead are bright. His palm pulls taut when it slams into leather. He knows how this story will end.

The volleyball tears towards the ground. It trembles as if scared by all that it holds: the guarantee of a flawless denouement, the catalyst of a radiant future. Hyunjin’s heart is beating hard enough to crack his ribs when he lands back on the ground, when the volleyball lands in the furthest corner of the court. He’s not scared at all.

He balls his fingers into fists.

“JUST LIKE LAST YEAR, BACK TO BACK ON AN ACE—”

An arm seizes Hyunjin’s neck; another drags him onto the floor. His head thuds onto the hardwood with a sound he hears over the whole world detonating. His vision fills with the faces of the people he cares for most, some covered in tears and others rivaling the ceiling with their blinding smiles. He can’t feel most of his body; his sweat drips into his mouth. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

“—DEFENDING THEIR TITLE FOR THE THIRD CONSECUTIVE YEAR—”

His eyes find Seungmin’s among the fray. Their hands clap together with such force that Hyunjin cusses at the impact. Seungmin’s gaze burns into his with a ferocity that Hyunjin plans to take to his grave. His setter. His best friend.

He says something inaudible, but Hyunjin reads the words off his lips, and his eyes fill with tears: we win everything.

“—YOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONS: SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY!”

Hyunjin’s post-game interview is a lawless affair. He is allowed at most half an answer before a new teammate is barreling over with an animalistic screech or a new friend is screaming congratulations from out of frame.

The reporter is visibly agitated by her final question, unpursing her lips to ask: “Is there anyone you’d like to thank?”

Hyunjin exhales. “You want the short answer or the long—”

Changbin seizes him by the head. Hyunjin bursts into a peal of high-pitched laughter as the libero litters kisses all over his face, nearly crumpling to the floor in his attempt to escape.

“Love you,” he yells before hurrying off. 

“Love you too, Bin.”

Hyunjin turns a sheepish smile to the reporter.

“The short answer,” she deadpans.

He starts counting off his fingers. He thanks his family—his first and last teammates, his eternal anchors. His other family, his actual teammates, the best boys he’s ever known. His coach, who will let him call him Chris someday. His best friend and setter, Kim Seungmin, who set a clothesline on fire once and changed his life forever.

In the distance, a figure emerges from the locker rooms. There’s a navy blue SNU banner draped over your shoulders, two overflowing duffel bags in your hands. Jisung and Jeongin run over to take them from you, and the smile you give them is wide and flushed, a remnant of the elation you shared from afar. The three of you start walking out of the gym.

Hyunjin thanks you.

You didn’t ask for the position, he tells the reporter, but some idiot roped you into it, and they’re all so grateful that you decided to stick around. You know the team better than they know themselves—it’s hard to believe you’ve been with them for five weeks instead of five years.

What are you like? What aren’t you like, is the better question. You’re caring, smart, strong; you see so much goodness in the people around you, all while unaware that it is your warmth that brings it out of them. Flowers only bloom in the sun’s doting radius, and so did he.

You have the sort of soul that incurs the scorn of the stars. They are the only ones to deserve you, they'd argue; you’re wasting your potential among humans when you belong to the sky, and they’d be right.

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek, suddenly annoyed.

“Why the fuck am I still talking to you?” 

“Pardon?” The reporter returns, but Hyunjin is already vaulting over the bleachers, making a mad dash for the exit. She gives her cameraman an affronted glare. He shrugs.

He explodes onto the concrete, looking around in a frantic haze. He finds the blue banner heading toward the team bus and flanked by his teammates with ease.

He calls out to you.

You glance backwards. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the area’s busy thrum. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram again, but he’s used to this feeling by now. Jeongin and Jisung make themselves scarce.

You’re beautiful. God, you’re fucking beautiful. That was the first thought to enter his mind when he spilled an iced Americano on your lap all those months ago and you looked at him like he hailed from another planet. And it is the first thought to enter his mind now, when he runs up to you and cradles your face in his hands, his touch infinitely, impossibly gentle, and you look at him like he’s everything that has ever existed, everything that ever will. 

Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes—if he didn’t have something far better to do.

“Tell me now if you don’t want me to do this,” he whispers.

A stupid smile crosses the face of the smartest person he knows. “My lips are sealed.”

Hyunjin kisses you. He kisses you until the banner around your shoulders is wrinkled under his touch, until your hands are tangled in his hair and aching his scalp, until the breaths you take are breaths you share, passed between your mouths like a puff of smoke before they’re colliding again.

He kisses you until he’s crying, again, until he’s no longer tasting your lips but your grin, and he kisses you only harder when those scornful stars start to dance before him, for you are his, not theirs, and he’s really won everything, now.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Six months later, Hyunjin sees Coach Bang standing a few yards away with a grim air about him. He stops in his footsteps and glances at his captain, confused.

“I know nothing,” Seungmin says, walking away. “Good luck!”

“Thanks, cap.” Hyunjin swears he’s had this exact exchange before.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace still reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. But there are two picture frames on his desk now: one of his family in front of the Sydney Opera House, the other of a band of boys clad in navy blue, draped over one another in exhausted bliss. The latter lends the room a much-needed sense of vitality. Too bad it still houses a rusty cyborg.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “Read.”

From: Nicola Daldello «[email protected]» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Re: Allianz Milano V. Pallavolo Perugia practice game Christopher, Allow me to apologize for my delayed response as I shared your request with Chairman Piazza. It is my great pleasure to inform you that we would love for Mr. Hwang Hyunjin to participate in our practice game versus Pallavolo Perugia. The match is scheduled for Monday, October 7th, 5-7 P.M. CET in the Giurati Sports Centre in Milan. Mr. Hwang will be playing for Allianz Milano as an outside hitter alongside Mr. Matey Kaziyski, Mr. Osniel Mergarejo, and Mr. Ishikawa Yuki. Please let me know of your availability to call regarding Mr. Hwang’s travel logistics. His transportation and lodging costs will be paid for by the club. I’m looking forward to speaking with you and welcoming Mr. Hwang to Italy once and for all. Yours, Nicola Daldello Assistant Coach, Allianz Milano

“I told you, some opportunities just present themselves,” Bang says, turning his monitor back around. “As for next steps, I need a holistic calendar view of your entire month of October, including social ev—Hwang, is that foam coming out of your mo—NOT ON MY CARPET! HWANG!”

In a park about a ten minute walk away, a small crowd of elderly people are scattered across a few stone tables, hunched over the fading chess boards painted into the granite surfaces. Mrs. Choi whisks away Mrs. Baek’s king with a triumphant yelp.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! That opening is unbeatable!” She swivels towards you, shaking a fist threateningly. “You! Get over here. Your reign is over.”

You are sitting cross-legged in the shade of a broad magnolia tree, clearing out your storage. You tried to take a picture of a particularly rotund pigeon to send to Hyunjin earlier and couldn’t even do that. It was then you decided you couldn't live like this anymore.

“As excited as I am to beat you again, Mrs. Choi, I need ten more minutes,” you call back. 

She presents you with an unpleasant hand gesture. You turn your attention back to your phone, grinning. Two new notifications sit at the top of your lock screen.

Hyunjin: Omw now. Sorry had to talk to Chris Hyunjin: Same park? Y/N: yes Hyunjin: Who’s our opponent today Y/N: mrs. choi Hyunjin: Not that bitch again Y/N: ?

He’ll be here in eight minutes.

You return to the task at hand. You’ve already cleared out your apps, your documents, and videos; all that’s left is the audio files. You conduct a quick mental review. Surely you’ll live without your downloaded music and accidental voice memos.

Instead of hitting the “delete” button, you extract a pair of tangled earphones from your jacket pocket.

You go back to your texts with Hyunjin, open the shared attachments tab, and scroll for a long time before you find the voice note he sent you seven months ago.

He finds you a sobbing mess.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” He’s on his knees in an instant, gathering your hands into his, a world of concern in the brown of his eyes. Your earbuds fall out and clatter onto the cement below. “Baby, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say in a flustered haste. “Yes, I’m okay. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s happening.”

“Did that hag do this to you?” He asks this question so seriously. “I’ll beat up a senior citizen, I don’t give a fuck—”

“No!” You let out an ugly laugh through your tears. “No, no. Leave Mrs. Choi alone.”

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

Eventually, your vision clears enough for you to look at the man kneeling in front of you. His roots grow out longer every day, his hair by now nearly equal parts gold and black. A spot of sunlight infiltrates the magnolia leaves and lands on his left eye, turning it the hue of melted bronze.

Your fingers drift to the sides of his beautiful face as you lean in close; he smells like a combination of smoky rose and tropical coastlines.

“I’ll tell you later,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hairline. 

He is dissatisfied with this, hooking a pointer finger beneath your chin, guiding your face back to his. He laves the saltwater from your lips, your tongue, and then you’re smiling again, barely able to remember why you cried in the first place.

You rest your foreheads together. “Have I told you that you look like a bumblebee these days?”

He smiles. “Does that make you my flower, then?”

“Because you’re irresistably drawn to me?”

“No, because I wanna put my pollen in—”

You shove him away. “You are grotesque.”

He returns in a flash. “You love me.”

You kiss him again. And again. And one more time for good measure, during which you mumble I do against his lips, and then you remember something.

“Why did Coach hold you back, by the way?” You pull away, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Are you in trouble again?”

“No, no. The opposite, actually.”

Your brow furrows. “The opposite? What—”

“In this lifetime, please,” Mrs. Choi hollers from the chess tables. You roll your eyes. Hyunjin smiles helplessly.

“Duty calls, my love.”

“Tell me your thing later too?”

“Of course.”

You dust yourself off and stand up, making your way to the battleground. But not before you whisper to Hyunjin, “now watch me beat up a senior citizen.”

He laughs with his whole body, his eyes the shape of crescent moons, his mouth a little rectangle.

“Hypocrite.”

Hyunjin: [1 Audio Message]

This is my seventh take and I’m not recording an eighth. What you get is what you get. I don’t care anymore.

I understand if you don’t wanna talk about what happened at the arcade. I wouldn’t, either. I just wanted to say that you don’t have to do this tutoring thing anymore. I won’t be able to fulfill my end of our deal, so…yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You’ve already done so much for us. For me.

As for team manager, you’ll have to talk to Minho and Coach Bang if you wanna quit. Doesn’t sound like a fun conversation, I know—but if that’s what you decide, I’ll have your back. They don’t scare me. Well, they do. Sometimes.

You’ve been…distant, this week. I’ve known peace and quiet for the first time since we met, and I fucking hate it. I realized I couldn’t care less if you’re my tutor or my team manager or whatever—I just don’t want you to be a stranger. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, but I’m tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesn’t terrify me. It does. It truly fucking does.

I’m gonna end this here, because I almost just stopped recording on accident and I would’ve committed first degree murder if I had to do this all over again. Sorry that this got so long, and…I’m sorry about everything. You deserve better.

Come back to me whenever you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・@automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8・@weedforthoughtz・@hyunverse

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #k-labels #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #hyunjin fluff #skz scenarios #hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids x you #*writing #*oneshot

[facioleeknow]

Ass, tits or thighs?

Stray Kids' preference plus a little spicy something ;)

Stray Kids x reader

Wc:501 Genre: Smut 18+ ONLY

Tw: smut, talk of body parts

Tags: @kflixnet @bahng-chrizz @hann1bee

Bang Chan

All of them. He's game on as soon as he sees skin. When he likes a person, he likes everything. Loves to slap your ass a little too much tho.

Likes missionary so he can see almost your whole body while he takes you.

Lee Know

Obviously ass. He's a shameless man, grabs it, slaps it and squeezes it in front of his members all the time. Loves to get a reaction out of you, he lives to see you flustered.

Face down ass up and hard thrusts so he can see the jiggle.

Changbin

I want to say thighs but with one singular ask @cbini changed my mind so I'm going to say ass (you guys should follow her, she's really fucking good). I think he also likes thighs tho.

Loves to fuck in reverse cowgirl and doggy so he can see your lower half jiggle. Loves to slap your ass for the same reason. The way your flesh moves really gets him going.

Hyunjin

Tits. 100% tits.

Loves to grab them, squeeze them and fondle them. Loves to suck in your nipples, that's exactly why he loves to see you bounce on his dick so he can sit up and suck on them and bite on them. Your whines are music to his ears and has to concentrate in order not to bust too quickly :(.

Han

He likes thighs.

As I said before he has an oral fixation, a strong one. He adores to suck marks on your thighs, it's his favorite past time. You have so many that wearing really short dresses or shorts it's almost impossible.

Always buries his hands between your thighs, even in a non sexual way, just to feel the warmth and softness.

Felix

Tits.

He likes your ass and your thighs but your tits are majestic to him. Truly gods sent.

Another one that likes to suck on nipples but does non sexually as well, just to calm down and sometimes to fall asleep.

Likes spooning because it's an intimate position and also he can wrap his arm around you and grab a titty.

Seungmin

Thighs. Likes big thighs. Likes to grab them all the time. At an acceptable height in public and a naughty one in public.

Loves to lay between your thighs to nap.

Loves to eat you out because he can feel your thighs squeezing his face and that's just the best part for him. Sometimes cums in his pants when you squeeze really hard.

Jeongin

Ass. Innie is a simple man and as a simple man he likes an ass.

He's not as innocent as people make him. He likes to spank you raw, he likes to leave red angry hand prints. He smirks when in the morning your ass is sore and you can't sit down. He will help you put cream on it tho because he's a good boyfriend.

Begs for anal.

#kpop #reader insert #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #lee know x reader #lee know smut #changbin x reader #changbin smut #han x reader #han smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #felix x reader #felix smut #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #jeongin x reader #jeongin smut #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #jeongin

[eideticallys]

You Think I'm Delicious?

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: all your dreams and hopes of getting cuddly with spencer were shattered when he uttered those six words.

“i don’t like your new perfume.”

genre: fluff & crack

word count: 1.9k

author's notes: here's a spencer reid fluff without plot, just crack (i tried so i hope you'll laugh while reading this). anyway, enjoy reading this one! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

THE THING ABOUT DR. SPENCER REID IS THAT HE’S A VERY SENSITIVE PERSON. He's very particular about stuff like his dislikes for certain textures and not knowing about something—making him a good researcher by the way, because if he doesn't know something, you'll find him poring through books—and even certain smells aren't an exception. One might think that this is normal with his job because, of course, he does. He has probably smelled dead bodies more than he has smelled fresh flowers. Of course, he hates smells like rotten flesh. Disgusting, honestly. But, what can he do? That is part of his job.

So, when he suddenly tugged you to his side one day to hug you, you were excited for him to take note of your new perfume and love it. No, you were certain he’d love it just as much as you did when you first took a whiff at the store. You just had to buy it because you were sure he’d go crazy over your smell. He’d tuck his face into your neck and shower you with pecks. Because despite what everyone else thinks they know about Spencer having an aversion to touch, he was quite the cuddler when he was in love. And yes, you were the lucky recipient of his comforting hugs 24/7. 

However, all your dreams and hopes of getting cuddly with Spencer were shattered when he uttered those six words.

“I don’t like your new perfume.”

Your jaw dropped as soon as he said that distressing sentence. Meanwhile, Spencer was quick to move away from you and continue what he was doing previously—playing chess by himself. Sometimes, if only you didn’t love your boyfriend and didn’t have to face charges, you would strangle him for a lot of things. One of which was being nonchalant after just dropping a bomb like that. What does he mean by you smell bad? You bought a citrus-scented perfume that hurt your pockets; you’ll have to give up your afternoon snacks at the cafe near the FBI headquarters. So, like any good partner out there, you just had to instigate a little argument over your new perfume.

“Excuse me?”

Your boyfriend looked up at your incredulous tone, merely raising a brow at you as if to ask, “What’s up?” This almost got your eye twitching, but you refrained. Taking a breath, you plastered a sickly sweet smile on your face and clarified your previous question.

“What do you mean you don’t like my new perfume?”

Spencer started reddening at your accusatory tone and shrugged halfheartedly, which made you raise one perfectly formed brow at your boyfriend. Now, you’re curious why your boyfriend blushed at your question.

He may be quite shy, but Spencer wasn’t the best when it came to social cues. He rarely gets embarrassed about something unless you blatantly point it out. You could probably count on one hand the number of times he flushed pink. A funny memory you have of him reddening like a tomato was when the BAU were out interviewing streetwalkers. Despite his social awkwardness, Spencer was propositioned by all the women he talked to. You could still remember the exact look he had on his face when he had to pull his tie away from the woman, who was busy rolling it on her fingers.

God, he’s so precious, you’d keep him in your pocket if you could. But right now, he isn’t your favorite person, and you’d love nothing more than to figure out why he was blushing. You were sure there was something behind all those burning cheeks.

“Spencer,” you slowly enunciated the syllables of his name, making him look at you once again. He tilted his head in question as you sighed dramatically, “Out with it.”

“What?”

“You’re flushed pink. You’re picking at your nails, and your right knee just started bouncing.” You pointed it out, and Spencer tried to remedy every single thing you mentioned. “Baby, for a profiler, you’re not doing great at hiding stuff. Tell me what’s going on.”

He scowled and crossed his arms like a petulant child, definitely wishing you weren’t a profiler, and a damn good one at that, like him. You merely chuckled at his antics and crossed your arms in retaliation. No, you weren’t backing away from this one. You spent money on perfume, hoping your boyfriend would love it. But no, he hated it, and now, you have to know why.

You could hear the ticking of the wall clock—if you focused hard enough—with the way not a single sound could be heard from the both of you waiting for the other to cave—not even a phone call from Garcia telling you that you have a case and, you have to be in the office in fifteen minutes could disrupt your focus right now. You could say the same about your boyfriend right now, who is intently staring at your phones on the table. He was probably hoping a work call would come through to save his ass from getting interrogated by you. It’s kind of sick that one would want to hear a new body was found, but at least you’d be out there catching another bad guy and locking them up, never to see the light of day until their last breath. He would rather have a face-off with a murderer than his girlfriend, whom he’s pretty sure is close to resorting to violence for borderline calling her stinky—not really, you’re just dramatic like that.

“Well, for starters, I think it’s strong like I’m drowning in it,” Spencer emphasized the word strong, making your brows furrow. He didn’t have that problem with your previous perfume, and it was stronger—he’s hiding something. You stared pointedly at your boyfriend now, who was fidgeting like crazy under your scrutiny.

“Are you sure that’s it? You didn’t have that problem with my previous perfume, which I’m pretty sure is much stronger than this one.” You clarified, tilting your head to the side as you explained further. “Garcia loved the smell of flowers, but she told me she sneezed every time I passed by. She had to ask me to change the scents immediately. And despite the complaints, you loved it so much that you would tuck your face into my neck.”

At this point, Spencer looked like he was about to burst from an aneurysm with how red he had gotten. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry, but you also had to make him suffer. 

“Tell me, Spencer. Or else, I might just have to resort to other tactics.” You almost cackled at the way your boyfriend looked like he’d rather start digging a hole for him to bury himself in. “And you know, I’m a great profiler. I always get what I want.”

However, as soon as you said those words, you noticed Spencer’s eyes drifting towards a half-full bottle sitting on his little desk filled with heaps of paperwork.

Oh. That’s the problem.

“Baby, I think I know what the problem is here.”

Spencer quickly leaped off your couch to avoid getting teased by you—which wasn’t your plan at all, by the way—and was about to run into your bedroom, but you were quick on your feet and were able to catch his arm and pull him towards you. Yep, unfortunately for your boyfriend, you were better when it came to physical activities.

Although you were better at that angle, you still weren’t able to properly estimate the way you pulled him into you because both of you ended up toppling over on your couch. Luckily, it was the couch, because you’re sure Hotch would have your heads served on a platter if both of his agents were injured and there was a sudden case.

You both landed unceremoniously, with Spencer squeaking as he ended up face-first into your chest, and you groaned as you cushioned his fall. Choosing to pause for a moment, you ran your hands through his brown curls as you both tried to catch your breath. Spencer seemed to agree with that idea as he started inhaling your scent, which made you smile a bit.

“You know, it’s not that I hate your perfume because it smells bad.” Spencer started explaining in a hushed tone, “I just liked it better when you smelled like me.”

Your eyes widened at his confession. This was the first time Spencer had ever said something possessive. Despite not being the usual alpha male girls go for, Spencer had enough confidence in himself that you chose him out of all the guys out there you could’ve gone for. At the start of your relationship, you made it clear to him that he was the one you wanted to be with. Not someone as domineering as Hotch or someone as bold as Morgan.

No, you wanted Spencer. 

You wanted to be with Spencer.

So, you were shocked at your boyfriend’s display of possessiveness, but at the same time, you found it cute that he wanted you to smell like him. It wasn’t every day that he wanted to engage in a public display of affection. And just like any other girlfriend out there who enjoyed the attention you got from your boyfriend, you laughed as you tried to pull Spencer’s face towards yours.

“God, you’re so adorable, Dr. Reid,” you exclaimed as you peppered his face with pecks and pinched his cheeks as he tried to dodge, embarrassed after saying he wanted you to use his perfume, “I could eat your face!”

“We don’t want that." Spencer said, "The BAU would lose two of their best agents with me inside your gastrointestinal tract and you in jail for cannibalism.”

You rolled your eyes at him as he blinked at you innocently. Sometimes, you hate his brain. 

“Stop taking things literally!" You exclaimed to your boyfriend, "You know what I’m talking about!”

“I don’t.” Spencer frowned. You could hear the cogs in his brain start working, meaning he was about to spew out some facts. “Actually, our senses of smell and taste are directly related. They both use the same types of receptors, so if you smell something that you think is delicious, this triggers the same area of the brain that activates our salivary glands. Wait, you think I’m delicious?”

You facepalmed yourself. For a guy with an IQ of 187, your boyfriend could be an idiot.

“You’re an idiot.”

“No, I’m not!” Spencer protested and explained some more, “Seeing an object, food, or even a person that is pleasing to the eye can cause people to salivate. Pleasant smells such as your favorite food, your partner’s natural scent, or smelling perfume on your partner can stimulate the production of saliva more than looking at that person. This process can initiate feelings of wanting to eat or bite.”

Despite his protests, you simply clucked and pinched his nose. Wanting to retaliate, Spencer continued spilling his tangents.

“Aha! You like me so much, my smell makes you want to bite me!”

“You know what, Spence?” You asked sweetly at your boyfriend, who was now listening intently to you. He’ll never know what hit him. “I love you so much, but I preferred it when you got embarrassed about wanting me to smell like you.”

By your admission, Spencer started blushing profusely again as he tried to bury his face in your neck.

“Shut up!”

“I love you too, Spence.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid crack #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fic #established relationship #domestic fluff

[hanjsquokka]

Swim - [ Lee Know ]

🎸 SYNOPSIS : After a nasty break-up with your loser ex, you head to your favorite club to let loose, when the bartender catches your eye. He's managed to make you laugh more than you had all week and slowly you find yourself losing focus on his words and more on his veiny hands.

GENRE : smut, strangers to potential lovers

PAIRING : lee know × fem!reader

CONTENT WARNING : smut (warnings under the cut!), cocky minho, mentions of cheating (not between minho and reader), drinking

WORD COUNT : 1.7K

AUTHOR'S NOTE : (Part of my Stray Kids × Chase Atlantic series special for their sixth anniversary). Lee Minho. Where do I even start with this man. I think I started to notice more of him during the Oddinary Era videos (because of his purple hair 🧎‍♀️). I feel like out of all of them, I'm very much similar to him. I like him a lot because of that. Also his cats :( I think seeing him transformed me into a 75% cat person now lmao.

minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content

SMUT WARNING : hand kink, fingering, unprotected sex (don't be stupid), piv, semi-public sex, use of nicknames (doll, bunny), choking (fem receiving), clothed sex (?), reader drinks a little but no drunk sex, everyone is sober and consenting!

“Three shots of vodka please.” You said as you slid onto the bar stool, eyes on the bartender's back as he nodded and prepared your drink, handing you three shot glasses and leaned against the counter. You adjusted the hem of your short dress once you noticed a guy eyeing you with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Rough day?” The bartender asked, watching you down a glass.

“How do you know?” You asked with a chuckle.

“Everyone's out here drinking gin tonics and beers. Call it a hunch, I guess.” He shrugged, making you chuckle and thread your fingers together, watching the man with newfound interest. Brown hair hung over his eyes, the middle part showing a bit of his forehead. His lips were rosy (and very kissable at first impression). His biceps strained against the black button up he was wearing, the sleeves rolled up giving you a perfect view of his veiny arms and hands… Oh god — his hands. “So what's gotten the fine lady in a bad mood?” He asked, his big eyes focused on yours.

You drummed your nails against your glass. “I'll let you guess.”

“Let's see…” He cocked his head to the side, “boss yelled at you? Fired? Friends?” You shook your head. Finally, his eyes light up, “Ah… vodka, hanging out at the bar instead of the floor, your phone's practically a vibrator at this point — broke up with your man?”

“He's an asshole.” You huffed and took another shot, the burning liquid flowing down your throat made you cringe but you welcomed the floating feeling that followed afterwards. You weren't a lightweight, a few vodka shots weren't going to make you dead drunk, but you felt better. “He went out to a party, got wasted and fucked someone — two someone's as per his friend. And then had the fucking audacity to beg for another chance.”

He laughed. “Sounds about right.” A song started to play in the background — most likely by the performing group (3RACHA or something?) of the night since there were cheers all around. He turned around and then back again, placing a glass of ice cold beer in front of you. “On the house. That guy is an asshole. You deserve much better.”

“You don't even know me.”

“Any girl like you deserves better than a cheating bastard.”

You laughed, the smile brightening on your face as you kept talking to the man, who introduced himself as Minho. Minho. You liked that name. You liked your name rolling off his tongue even more when he repeated it after you, saying it again after tending to a few other customers. You stole glances at his hands when you thought he wasn't looking, the prominent veins underneath his smooth skin made your face flush as dirty thoughts clouded your mind.

“Do you stare at everyone's hands, or is it just mine?” The smug smile on his face paired with the glint in his eyes — he knew what you'd been doing. You turned red, trying to stammer some sort of response but it died out once you noticed that he didn't look like… he was bothered by it. “I feel honored.” He leaned forward, fingers pulling out some invisible leaf from your hair as he whispered, “wanna tell me what you were thinking about, doll?”

You gave a very intelligent response. “Uh…”

He smirked, looking away from you to tell one of the other bartenders that he was going to get more glasses from the back before telling you in a low voice, “Wait here for a few minutes and then go through the employees only door in the back.” You couldn't muster an answer before he winked and left.

Your heart was thudding in your chest. Were you actually going to do it? Follow a bartender you met a few hours ago? Something inside you was telling you to go for it. Sure, there was a possibility of you walking straight into a trap, but there were so many times he could've done something to you the whole night and he did nothing but lift your spirits. He'd managed to make you laugh more than you had all week.

You downed your last shot before getting up and going to where he instructed you to. No one batted an eye as you slipped through the clearly labeled employees only door and carefully walked into the dimly lit place that looked to be a janitor's closet when a finger tapped on your shoulder and you were met with Minho's big eyes again.

“Now that we're alone…” The muffled sound of music still played from behind the door, “what were you thinking when you were staring at my hands, hm?” You swallowed, Minho's finger traced your jawline before resting underneath your chin, making you look straight at him.

“W-Well…”

“Words, bunny.”

The nickname turned your ears red. “Y-You might be right…”

“Might?”

“Fine.” There was no going back anymore. “I was thinking… certain things about your hands.”

“Like what?”

“How they'd…” You bit your lip. “How they'd feel inside me… or… around m-my neck.”

“Good bunny.” He smirked. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please.”

He wasted no time joining his lips with yours, practically devouring you as he pushed against the wall, tongue sliding into your mouth and meeting yours. His hands rested on your waist, squeezing the flesh as he deepened the kiss. Sloppy and messy, things only got more heated as the minutes flew by. He detached from you and instead peppered kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Your palm was flat against his chest, feeling his muscles tensing beneath your skin. He nipped at a spot on your neck that made heat pool between your thighs, an unintelligible sound leaving your mouth.

“Oh, you liked that?” He bit down again in the same spot, hard enough to leave a mark before smoothing over it with his tongue.

“Please…” You whimpered.

“Please what?”

“N-Need you. Your fingers.”

“Where do you need them bunny?” He was teasing you. You could see that. But you had just about enough of it. You took his hand and guided it between your parted legs, right onto your covered crotch. “You're soaking. Just thinking about my hands did this to you?” You nodded. He rubbed your clothed pussy, making your head fall onto his shoulder, the feeling nearly making your knees buckle and he barely even did anything. He pulled his hand away and tapped his finger against your lips, “Suck.”

You wasted no time in doing exactly what he said, wrapping your pink lips around his two fingers and coating them with your saliva. He chuckled, taking them out and slipping off your panties from underneath the short dress you were wearing, rubbing over your folds and your clit. You moaned at the simple touch which made him chuckle. He prodded at your hole before a digit entered inside you and you could've cum from just the feelings. “Oh god…”

He inched his finger inside and slowly began moving it in and out, adding another finger when he heard the sweet, sinful sounds escaping your lips, scissoring you open. “Look at you. Already fucked out from just my fingers. How are you even going to be able to handle my cock, hm?”

“I-I can do it. Want your cock. W-Want you to fill me up, Minho, p-please —” You were cut off by your own whimper as he pressed his thumb against your bundle of nerves. You were clenching around his fingers, almost able to taste your orgasm when he stopped and removed his fingers. You whined at the loss, your climax crumbling away.

“The only way you're cumming —” He undid his belt and pulled his pants down along with boxers so his dick could spring out. “On my cock.” And it was big. Fuck. You drooled at the sight of his thick cock, the leaky mushroom tip and the vein that ran along his length and then his heavy balls — holy shit. “Get on that table for me.” He nudged his head towards the small desk table. You scrambled to get there, laying down on the cold wood, your wet pussy on full display for him. “Such an obedient bunny.” He ran the tip of his dick along your folds, only entering you slowly after you whined for him to just put it in.

And he was big. He just kept going and going until you felt the head brush against your cervix. You felt impossibly full, head swimming in ecstasy. Through your half-lidded eyes, you could see he was struggling to keep his composure, eyebrows taut as he held your hips down. Once you gave him the go ahead, he wasted no time in setting a quick pace. Your moans echoed off the walls. The music from outside was like a background track for the sinful deed you were doing.

The water's getting colder, let me in your ocean, swim.

“Pussy so fucking tight — even after I stretched you out with my fingers —” Minho grunted, angling his hips so that he was hitting that spot inside you that made you see white with every thrust. You were babbling incoherently, much to his amusement. “Did I fuck my bunny dumb already?” One of his free hands reached up and wrapped around your throat. You opened your eyes again, the sight of his veiny arms making you clench impossibly tighter. He let out a groan, squeezing your neck to restrict your breathing a little.

You could feel your orgasm approaching again, your moans turned into high pitched whimpers, his name leaving your mouth like a mantra as you convulsed, cumming around his cock, milking him dry. He let put a string of curses as his thrusts turned sloppy and uncoordinated before he came inside you, fucking his seed into you until he was spent and slowed down.

The two of you were silent, panting to catch your breath.

“Block your loser ex. I'm the one who's going to make you feel like this. With my mouth. With my fingers. And with my dick. Over and over again.”

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

#Spotify #k-labels #stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know #lee know smut #lee know x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know hard thoughts #lee know hard hours

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

MASTER LIST OF INSTRUMENTAL PLAYLISTS FOR WRITING (OR FOR STUDYING, MAKING ART, ETC.)

I find that the perfect writing playlist can GREATLY enhance the writing experience. Even if it doesn't make your writing "better" (which it can, since it helps writers with visualization, tone, and mood), it can definitely make your writing flow easier!

Personally, words distract me when I'm writing, either by breaking my train of thought or by getting me too into the music so that I'm jamming out to my favorite tunes instead of writing.

Therefore, I've amassed a vast knowledge of instrumental music across a variety of media over a course of many years. Now here I am, deciding to share all of them with you!

Maddy’s Favorite Instrumental Songs

Just like the title says. All of the best pieces of instrumental music I've ever heard, compiled together with no regard for genre. It can be a bit of a whiplash playlist, but some amazing recs in there that I just like listening to in my free time, not just for writing.

Maddy’s Ultimate Instrumental Playlist

A mega compilation of 550+ fantastic instrumental music from a variety of media and genres. Kind of a whiplash playlist if you put it on shuffle, but is a great start for anyone looking to find what kind of instrumental music they like! Playlist Groupings in Order: Independent instrumental songs, live action movies, animated movies, animated tv shows, live action tv shows, video games.

Maddy's Instrumental for Sleep

Some more chill vibe instrumental for people who either A) want to sleep or B) want a relaxed playlist that won't distract you with loud volume and sudden changes in tempo or melody.

MISC PLAYLISTS:

you're a haggard adventurer discovering worlds beyond your wildest dreams

Music to inspire wonder and wanderlust, the kind of feeling you get when you finally reach the end of a mountain hike and see the world stretching out before you.

you're a hero who's just lost everything

Basically the most sad instrumental music I could find. A playlist for grief and revenge.

more beneath the cut :)

you're a cowboy in the great American West

Cowboy instrumental for all of your ambient and writing needs. Or if you just really want to feel like a cowboy.

you're a divine witness

Epic choir music (no English). Most religious, some not, but all kind of have that eerie sacred vibe. I listen to this while writing my book about angels and demons.

you’re a scholar uncovering the secrets of the universe

Great chill study playlist! Has the kind of same exploratory/discovery type feel as the haggard adventurer playlist, but more dark academia.

you’re a villain plotting to take over the world

Villain-coded instrumental! Sinister, dark, and/or unsettling.

you're an academic weapon

HIGH BPM STUDY PLAYLIST! Keeps me focused, hyped, and helps me work faster!

you're an ancient god

Playlist that gives an ancient/eerie vibe. But some ancient gods are merciful- so there are some upbeat songs for wonder and awe!

you're falling in love

Music that encapsulates what I think falling in love feels like. Very beautiful, tender, and uplifting instrumental.

you're fighting the final battle

Intense and epic battle music for all of your fight-scene-writing needs! Good for getting shit done, but isn't necessarily restricted to high BPM like the academic weapon playlist.

you're having a tea party

Refined instrumental for a tea party, including classical, big band, and some miscellaneous goodies.

you're in a chase scene

Music for writing chase scenes. Pretty good hype music, too. Includes soundtracks from classic chase scenes in popular media!

you're in the medieval times

Medieval-sounding music for all of your ambient and/or writing needs.

you’re in your childhood room. the door is open a crack. people talk softly downstairs.

A playlist dedicated to nostalgia, to the feeling of lying in bed with your nightlight on after being too tired to stay awake at your family get-together. Could either make your day or break your heart lmao

you're the happiest you've ever been

Lighthearted instrumental meant to lift your spirits! A playlist dedicated to the joys of the little things.

#writing #writers #writeblr #booklr #creative writing #studying #writing playlist #roleplay #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writing inspo #writing inspiration #inspo #music #music rec #instrumental music

[choisanboobenthusiast]

Princess

Pairing: sub!mingi x fem reader

Genre: smut MDNI

Word count: 3.0k

Summary: Mingi is inexperienced, you're not. He finally feels ready to take the next steps in your relationship and you find he is surprisingly more subby than you would have thought.

Warnings: fingering, oral both receiving, established relationship, begging, overall sublike behaviors portrayed by Mingi, reader is a little bit of a switch if you squint? Idk not a lot of warnings here, Mingi has a huge dick and you give him the sloppy toppy, okay? please let me know if I need to add something

a/n: Considering a part two on this based on how well it is received. Personally I live and breathe sub Mingi so I wouldn’t be opposed to a second part. This is my first smut oneshot so any feedback is appreciated 🫶🏻

Part two

You and Mingi had fooled around plenty of times in the near month you two had been dating but things had never escalated to sex. Sure, things got heated but the night usually ended with you naked beneath him as he got you off on his tongue and fingers while he still had his pants on. He was never shy about shedding his shirt, always proud to show off the top half of his body. And why wouldn't he be? He'd worked hard to achieve his current physique.

But when it came to sex you knew he was a little nervous, having only gone that far on a few occasions whereas you were pretty experienced. You never pushed him in that direction, wanting him to be completely comfortable before he got fully undressed with you. And he seemed pretty content with just getting you off, not like you were complaining about that but you wanted to make him feel good too.

Your current situation wasn't much different from any of the other times you two had gotten frisky. You'd gone to Mingi's for a night in of watching your favorite show and eating lots of crappy snacks. A couple episodes in though Mingi had started to trail his hand up your thigh, squeezing it slightly. This wasn't always sexual for him, he really just liked to be close to you. So you didn't give it a second thought, enjoying the feeling of his big, warm hands on you as you cuddled. Mingi was a bit like an oven mixed with one of those giant teddy bears, you always felt small and cozy in his arms. It wasn't until his hand inched closer to your core and his lips pressed softly to your neck that you began to take notice of his actions. You weren't surprised, date nights in often took a turn like this.

He continued to leave small, gentle kisses on your neck while his hand massaged the inside of your thigh. You quickly abandoned your tv show and turned your face toward him. He had a somewhat pleading look in his eyes, he always did, although you'd never actually told him no.

Things escalated rather quickly after that, your tv show now being drowned out by your steady stream of moans and gasps as Mingi worked two of his large fingers inside you. He was taking his time, teasing you by not touching your clit and not increasing his pace just yet. Oh no, not until you asked him for it. He loved to hear your voice whine for him and he knew it would if he was patient. And my god, was he patient. Of course he loved pleasuring you but he loved drawing it out too and he was good at it. Better than anyone you'd ever been with. Besides, he just couldn't deny how hard your breathless little voice made him.

"Mingi..." You sighed exasperatedly, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. You knew it's what he wanted and you weren't going to deny him anything right now. "Your mouth, please."

God, he loved it when you asked. He could feel himself growing harder at your request, if that was even possible at this point. He didn't make you ask twice, feeling insatiable himself, and quickly buried his face in between your thighs. You gasped and gripped the couch cushions as he latched his lips onto your clit. You couldn't help the obscenities that rolled off your tongue as he continued sucking on your sensitive bud, finally speeding up the pace in which he fucked you with his fingers.

With his free hand he pressed one of your legs back, your knee and shoulder nearly meeting. You ground onto his face, not being able to control yourself anymore as your hands left their place on the couch cushions and pulled on his short hair. You stared down at the mess of black and blonde between your thighs, thinking you might be pulling too hard. That is until he looked up at you, tongue still lapping at your clit, his eyes more needy than ever. You tugged experimentally and he choked out a whimper. Of course you had pulled Mingi's hair before, you knew he enjoyed it to a certain extent but you'd never been so aggressive with it.

"You like that?" You questioned, your tone genuine.

He nodded and paused for a brief moment to say "pull harder."

You did as he asked and he moaned around your clit, the vibrations of his deep voice causing you to jolt. Mingi had displayed sub-like behaviors before on occasion, usually when you were sitting on his face, which he'd told you was his favorite position to eat you in. A few seconds passed and he pulled away hastily, toppling over you and bringing your lips into a messy kiss, your wetness still coating his mouth. You whined as he removed his fingers from inside you and wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Let's go to my room." He said lowly, hooking your arms around his neck and pulling you up off the couch.

You held onto him tightly as he began walking the both of you toward his bedroom, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs to keep you from falling. You played with his hair and nipped at his neck as your naked body rubbed against his clothed one as he hadn't even managed to peel his shirt off yet. You began grinding against him as best you could in the position you were in. You just couldn't help yourself, you could feel how hard he was through his sweatpants.

"Want you to grind like that on my face, baby." He whispered in your ear before lying down on his back with you hovering above him. You didn't answer and instead continued to kiss his neck and his jaw, loving all the little sounds you were pulling out of him. He groped your ass, attempting to push you upwards to get you where he wanted you. "Please." He whined. "Wanna taste you again. Please baby."

"Okay, but take this off first." You tugged at his white t-shirt and sat back on your heels.

"Whatever you want." He replied quickly, almost as if he didn't mean to say it, like it was a confession and began pulling his shirt over his head.

"Whatever I want, hm?" You questioned and he stopped midway through removing his top, holding it over his face.

"Yes." He answered quietly, the words muffled by the fabric covering his mouth. "Whatever..." He took a deep breath. "Whatever you want."

You giggled at him and his sudden shyness. He had only ever been shy like this towards the beginning of your relationship when he'd admitted to you that he was super inexperienced. You didn't mind though, secretly taking pleasure in teaching him, especially because he was very eager to learn just how to pleasure you. He'd done all the basics before but just like with sex he had really only done them a handful of times. He had quickly become super comfortable with you and you wondered now if his sudden word vomit meant what you thought it did.

"Mingi?" You pushed his shirt over his head, revealing his pink tinted cheeks. He averted your gaze immediately as his cheeks turned bright red with embarrassment. "You mean whatever I want?" He nodded silently, his lips pressed together tightly. You chuckled at him again, assisting him in removing his shirt completely and tossing it to the side. "So... if I told you to take these off too?" You fingered the band of his sweatpants and ground yourself onto his cock. He whined in response, finally working up the courage to look you in the eye.

"Y-yeah." He breathed out. "I'll take 'em off."

You bent down to kiss him, hands wandering over his toned chest. "I'll do it for you, baby." You said quietly in his ear.

You were slow with your actions, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine. You kissed down his jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the skin of his collarbone as his breathing got heavier. He was raking his fingers through your hair, holding it away from your face gently as he watched you go lower and lower, leaving a trail of wet kisses down his abdomen. The muscles in his stomach tensed when you palmed him through his sweatpants and he sucked in sharply.

You had waited for this for a while, what felt like quite a long time. You were excited to finally be able to give back to him what he had given to you so many times. Not only that but you were dying to know what he looked like from the waist down, what he tasted like and what he felt like, in every sense of the word. You had certainly felt him through his pants pretty often so you had a fairly good idea of his size, you knew he was big but you could only tell so much with a barrier in place.

After what felt like a very long time of nothing but kissing and touching his chest and his arms you finally hooked your fingers into the top of his sweatpants. You shuffled your body down to rest around his knees and carefully began pulling the fabric down his hips. You very quickly realized he wasn't wearing any boxers as he lifted himself slightly off the bed to allow you to pull his pants down further.

"No underwear?" You teased, deciding to test the waters. "Naughty boy."

He gulped and stuttered. "I-I knew you were coming over so I didn't... put any on." You couldn't lie, he was adorable like this. With his face flushed, ears pink and that same pleading look in his eyes. There was no denying it, he liked the way you were treating him.

You had to stop yourself from audibly gasping upon getting his pants down his thighs, seriously. This is what he's been hiding? You thought before gently wrapping your hand around the base, your fingers unable to meet. "Mingi, you're... huge." You placed your other hand around him, running your thumb over his sensitive tip, already leaking precum. He choked out a sound you'd never heard him make before as his hands flew to cover his face. Was he embarrassed? Usually men of his size were more than happy to show it off. You wondered if this was why it had taken him so long to be intimate in this way with you.

"Sorry, I-I know I'm big. Maybe I should have said something or.. I don't know." He rambled. "We can stop if you want."

"Stop?" You began running your hands up and down his length. "Mingi, why on earth would I want to stop?"

"Cause aren't you kind of ungh i-intimidated?" His hands flew to fist the sheets, eyebrows furrowing as you continued your slow motions. "I don't wanna hurt you." He cringed at his own words.

"Don't worry about me. I promise, I'll be fine." You shifted off his legs, releasing your grasp around him and pulling his pants all the way down his legs. You'd always known Mingi had huge thighs but getting to see them like this had you drooling. You ran your hands over his tense muscles and he shivered beneath your touch, looking at you with desperation, plush lips parted ever so slightly. "I bet you don't really know how to use this thing, huh?" You teased, stroking him a single time. His breath hitched and he shook his head.

"Sh-show me." His voice nearly a whimper. "Like you showed me everything else."

He was unbelievably hot like this, naked, sprawled out on the bed for you with his face scrunched and chest heaving. So desperate to be touched. You knew you could get him to beg for it. You knew that he wanted to. You danced your fingertips lightly over his cock and ran your hand up his chest, resting it softly at the base of his neck.

"You want me to show you?" You asked, kissing his shoulder. He nodded quickly. You brought your lips up to his ear and whispered. "Big boys use their words."

"Yes, I want you to show me." He answered, his voice quiet and deep.

"Hmm." You trailed your fingers across his collarbone and over his chest, testing another boundary by grazing one of his nipples. He sucked in sharply. "It doesn't sound like you want it that bad."

"I-I do!" He protested. "I do want it, please, I want it so bad."

"Okay, since you asked so nicely." You smirked, shifting to straddle his legs again as your hands wrapped around his cock, stroking gently. The idea of riding his face now long forgotten as you continued to pump him slowly, avoiding his sensitive head to tease him.

His hands were still fisted in the sheets as he watched you. The sight of your tiny hands around his huge cock enough to cause his muscles to tighten and his breath to quicken. His eyebrows strung together as breathy little moans fell from his parted lips and his hands flew to clutch at your thighs as his hips began to buck up every now and then.

"Please." He mumbled, fingers pressing harshly into your flesh. "Please, more."

"Oh Mingi, you beg so nice for me." You finally allowed your thumb to swipe over the head of his cock while you stroked him, earning you a string of whines as he pressed his head back into the pillow.

"Fuuuck." He groaned.

"You want more?" You asked, quickening your pace just slightly. "Want me to suck you off?"

"Fuck yes." He answered, squeezing your thighs.

"Gonna be a good boy and sit still for me?" You shuffled further down his legs, his hands falling back onto the sheets.

"Yes, I'll be good, I promise." He breathed.

"Who knew you were such a sub, Mingi?" Before he could utter another word you took the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it gently and running your tongue along the slit. His hands flew into your hair immediately, aiding you in keeping it away from your face while also enjoying the image of your lips wrapped around him. He was too large to fit all of him in your mouth but you tried you best, taking in as much of him as you could until he hit the back of your throat. Once you had as much of him in your mouth as you could manage you peered up at him and god, was he a sight. Mouth agape, body glistening with sweat as his large chest heaved and his eyes stared back at you. You began moving your mouth up and down his length at a languid pace, making sure to hold eye contact with him and keeping a hand on the base of his cock to jerk off what didn't fit in your mouth. Your other hand massaged his hip and thigh gently as you continued your ministrations.

"Feels mmph feels so good." He brought his lower lip in between his teeth as he continued to watch you bob your head up and down his length, the muscles in his abdomen flexing over and over again involuntarily.

You popped your mouth off of him momentarily to take a breath, a string of your spit and his precum connecting your lips to his leaking member. As you caught your breath you licked him like a popsicle, relishing in all the pretty noises you were pulling out of him, sounds you'd never heard him make before, moans and whimpers you could listen to on repeat.

"I'm gonna cum." He suddenly announced, his grip on your hair tightening.

"Already?" You mocked, flicking your tongue over his sensitive tip.

"Unngh, yes." He whined, his body beginning to writhe beneath you, eyes closing tightly. "Please, please put me back in your mouth." He pleaded desperately. "Wanna cum in your mouth, please."

"Do you think you've earned that?" You began to suck on his cockhead again and he groaned loudly. You loved how vocal he was being, never having heard him like this before.

"I will!" He cried. "I'll do whatever you want just, fuck, please let me."

You didn't make him beg anymore and took him back into your mouth quickly. His hips bucked up at the feeling of your hot mouth enveloping him again and in seconds he was moaning louder than ever before. "C-cumming, I'm uhhnf-" His voice caught in his throat as he released in your mouth, holding your head down until the tip of his cock nudged at your throat. You couldn't help but choke around him as you did you best to swallow his load, surprised by his sudden movements. After a few moments his dick stopped twitching and he released his hold on your head. You came off him with a gasp, wiping the remnants of his cum from your lips and chin with your hand. He lied breathless beneath you as his cock began to soften, eyes still closed.

"Mingi..." you moved to straddle his waist, hovering above him, not quite letting your bodies touch. You stroked your hands gently over his chest and took his flushed face in your hands before kissing him roughly. He moaned into your mouth as your tongues slid over one another's, not seeming to care that you tasted like him. His hands fell weakly on your hips, tugging slightly, urging your body to make contact with his. "Mingi." You repeated, petting his hair softly, waiting for him to open his eyes and look at you.

"Hmm?" He questioned, a tiny content smile on his lips.

"Would you look at me a second?" You giggled. He opened his eyes then, although only about halfway. "Do you want to keep going? You seem a little... sleepy?"

"No, no, I'm not sleepy!" He protested. "Just felt so good." He sighed happily. "You're really... you're really good at that." He confessed with a grin.

"Thank you." You smiled genuinely down at him. "You did so good for me." He blushed at your praise and gave the flesh of your hips a languid squeeze.

It's not long before Mingi is rummaging through his nightstand, searching for a condom, while you discard that last bit of clothing you had on, eager to continue.

part 2…

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez mingi #ateez smut #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi x reader #song mingi smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot

[jjkeverlast]

accidental roommates | jjk (m)

✦ pairing dilf!jk x fem!reader

✦ genre/au's dilf!au, roommate!au, roommates to lovers, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, crack & teeny tiny sentimental angst

✦ summary moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace.

yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate.

✦ word count 14.7k 🌚

✦ warnings second hand embarrassment | jungkook's abs | annoying antics | suppressed feelings | both of them are stubborn and petty (it's gets tiring lmfao) | mentions of past relationships | a lot of time stamps | sexual tension | ft. namjoon 👀 | !constant change of perspective between reader and jungkook

✦ sexual warnings fingering | oral (f. receiving) | semi-hand job? | grinding | riding | biting (like once) | teasing | protected sex!

✦ author's note oh my god.... can you believe i actually finished this shit? lmao no me neither. i have to thank my amazing co-writer's for this collab @kooktrash & @jeonjcngkook for being extremely helpful when i've been stuck with some scenes! along with my favorite person and hyung @gimmethatagustd who was there whenever i needed to plan some scenes and for reading out my entire outline. also, big thanks to my beta @pjiminbloomx who took her time in listening me rant about this for over a month. i love you jyad. <3333 and just overall every single one of you who have encouraged me about this. i can't believe it got this long BUT hey! it didn't get above 15k which was my maximum for this fic. enjoy this super cracky and long stupid fic with these two idiots. <3

this fic is a part of illicit desires collab! go read the other stories if you're hungry for more dilf jungkook ;)

For the first time since a week ago, you’re finally able to breathe for once. The sigh you let out is comforting and freeing. The awful ruckus of moving has caused you to roam on the streets with a lack of sleep, eye bags that can be caught from miles away and a groggy voice not daring to disappear from your vocals. A mess really. You know it, your ex-roommate Ash knows it too and even though she and her partner are at fault here, it was bound to happen. 

You see, Ash had met Lucca through a mutual friend, the mutual friend being you and you were surprised at how well they complimented each other. The night they met was filled with nervous glances and flushed red cheeks due to the excitement. They both deserved each other. So, when they finally announced their relationship with you, you were more than thrilled. Although, after a year of them dating they had come to the conclusion of moving in together, which was a big step for their relationship and a step back for you, due to you ending back to square one and having to find an apartment yourself.  

The image of Ash’s expression when she kindly asked you to move within the next month was imprinted in your mind. She didn’t want to kick you out this way, but it was an important and big step into her relationship with Lucca, and the decision needed to be made regardless. You didn’t really have a say in this. Firstly, the apartment was Ash’s and in the end, it is her decision on whom she wants to share it with. 

It took you a week. A whole week to find the perfect place for you. The pictures sold the place nicely, the living room looking spacious and decorated firmly with stable furniture and you being desperate to find anything you called the owner. The conversation went great. He was very quick on letting you get the apartment, sending you a confirmation email the day after you had agreed to the deposit. You were doing it, and it felt great. 

Although, your lack of sleep had been caused by the last-minute packing, having to clear out your room as quickly as possible. It was mostly because of Lucca themselves, having to move out of their sister’s loft, so the timing was indeed tight. But hey, everything turned out well even though you look like a Yeti who hasn’t been able to find a place to rest. It’s fine really, now you’ll be able to at least lie down before unpacking everything. 

With a trembling hand, you manage to push the code in, the door opens and you’re just about to step in when you look up and find a shirtless man in your apartment. You don’t say anything, the both of you staring each other down for a quick second before you manage to close the door, convincing yourself you’re hallucinating. 

It’s a thing, Ash told you countless times whenever you managed to withhold an all-nighter in your shared place. First, there’s being overtired where every ounce of energy left bounces like a little child on a trampoline, then there’s the lack of sleep eating you alive although your eyes fail you to shut, being used to staying open, which creates the last step: hallucinations. 

Maybe it’s the lack of sex which made you paint a beautifully sculpted man with tattoos only in a towel in front of you. You’re praising your brain for creating such a lively picture that causes you to grin and shake your head before you decide to re-enter. 

He’s there again. Your horny hallucination. 

The hallucination takes a turn when he screams into your face. ‘’What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?!’’ It’s then that you snap yourself back to reality, realizing this indeed is a real person and you’ve managed to scare the shit out of them. The only thing you find yourself doing is screaming back, which turns into violent screaming in unison and by now half of the neighborhood is probably writing a complaint to this very apartment. 

‘’What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?!’’ You find the courage to finally scream back and the man in front of your eyes squints in discomfort, shaking his head as he swallows your words. 

‘’Y-your apartment?’’ 

You fold your arms, scoffing as your head turns towards the open kitchen. ‘’Yes. Mine.’’ 

He begins to laugh, his abs tensing along with the rhythm and you hate yourself for growing hot over his upper body. 

‘’You’re funny.’’ He points at you and to prove yourself to him, you look for the confirmation email that proves you have the right to own this place. 

‘’Here.’’ He steps closer, the scent of his shampoo infiltrating your nostrils and you notice a form of sweet yet musky scent. While you’re too busy trying to ignore the scent, the man in front of you has his full attention on your screen. He smacks his lips, his composure straightening along. ‘’There has to be some sort of mistake.’’ 

You hum in agreement. How wrong could this possibly go? The only solution that comes to mind like a wave, is to call the owner. You hold a finger up, pausing for whatever word is about to come out from the stranger in front of you while it starts to dial. It quickly gets interrupted, by a voice telling you the number doesn’t exist. You refuse to believe it, so you continue to call three to four times while the man crosses his arms, sighing out loud. It’s at that moment you notice the detailed and colored tattoos covering his arm in a sleeve. 

“He’s… he’s not picking up.” The defeat drags itself at your feet. The proof you once had to own this apartment is gone, except the confirmation email but then again there must’ve been some mistake — a big one to say the least. 

“Do you honestly believe that?” His tone indicates he’s irritated and the water droplets on his skin have almost dried out — the fact that you notice scares you more than the situation you’re currently met with. 

“I mean, clearly, you’ve been scammed.” The words swallow you whole, your composure losing against you and your head drops with your heart. Of course, it was too good to be true, because again since when have you ever been lucky when you’re on your own? 

“Fuck.” 

It seems as if you’ve lost, but you’re not willing to give up just yet. You spent all of your savings on the deposit and the last thing you’ll do is ask your strict parents for money, which isn’t only super hard but exasperating as well. 

‘’Well now that this whole problem is settled, get out.’’ The tone is harsh and you flinch, tears threatening to spill as you slowly walk to the entrance. 

‘’Wait—’’ You hold your hands up, your feet freezing down on the tiled floor and the stranger’s expression turns into pure disgust yet confusion. You aren’t really sure, your mind is basically clouded reasons being your lack of sleep. Which currently isn’t helping the situation you’re currently standing in. If only you could snatch it like Margot Robbie snatches bags and watches in ‘Focus’. This reminds you, you should probably watch it again, it was really good and—

‘’Hello?!’’ The sound catches you off guard, your eyes roaming back onto the half-naked stranger whose name still stays unknown. 

‘’Just. Please.’’ You’re fucking tired and this was the last thing that needed to be added onto your plate yet you’re still standing, except you’re hopeless and homeless. 

‘’Please?! Get. Out.’’ 

You drop down to your knees, your tears falling freely and you plead. 

‘’I have nowhere to go. My old roommate is finally starting a new life with her partner, my parents are fucking strict and are the last I’m calling for help. I’m basically fucking homeless and I just wanted to lay down in my apartment after moving out last minute and sleep.’’ You’re rambling all kinds of nonsense, throwing a whole scene in front of a guy who’s stepped out of the shower. You feel bad but you’re lost. You have nowhere to go. 

‘’Seriously, I’m fucked. Help me out, just— just for six months and I’ll be out of your sight.’’ Your voice cracks, every limb that has managed to withhold your posture, collapsing all together into one. You’re done. 

A deep sigh catches your attention, your glossy eyes looking up to see a semi-smile resting on the guy’s face. ‘’Six months.’’ He repeats as he traces his fingers on the patterned ink, decorating his arm. 

‘’Fine. Just don’t make me regret this. I’m Jungkook by the way.’’ Finally, you discover the name of the pretty stranger. 

‘’Thank you. Thank you so much.’’ You’re holding yourself back from hugging him, mostly because of his naked chest and the last thing you need is to feel warm skin on your own. Instead, you introduce yourself and he smiles awkwardly making you reconsider your awful ruckus from before. You basically admitted how fucked your life is at the moment, bringing along the strict parents into the mix and we all know, this won’t end well. 

A sudden cry snatches every ounce of your attention, coming from one of the rooms. Has someone been here all this time? 

‘’Shit. I think we might’ve woken her up.’’ Her. Great, you’re gonna live with a clingy couple, after having no mercy in showing you were checking him out — multiple times. This is going to be absolute hell. 

All while you’re imagining the messy and mostly awkward encounters you’re going to face while living with a couple, you don’t notice Jungkook walking back out accompanied by a certain someone. 

‘’A baby?!’’ Great. Not only are you going to live with a couple, but their newborn baby too. 

‘’You sound… surprised.’’ He decides to sit down, the baby’s head resting on his bare and tatted shoulder, doe-eyed and mouth agape. 

‘’Where’s… where’s your girlfriend?’’ Shit. Are you even listening to yourself? You met this guy not even an hour ago and you’re already invading his private life with intense questions. 

‘’Don’t have one. It’s just me and So-ah here.’’ He taps her back, a few burps escaping her as you stay quiet. 

The scenery in front of you causes a faint smile to appear on the brim of your lips. If you weren’t determined to own the apartment yourself, you’d let every ounce of you swoon over how careful Jungkook is with his daughter. 

Jungkook takes a hold of her, changing positions as she faces him, her eyes as big as his. It’s crazy how alike they look. 

Your heart melts into a thick puddle when Jungkook rubs his nose against So-ah’s, a soft giggle sounding like a lullaby escaping her right after. 

‘’Oh my god.’’ Jungkook’s mouth drops and before confusion seeps through you he continues. ‘’So-ah you just laughed for the first time.’’ Fuck. You’re so screwed. 

‘’She’s adorable.’’ You smile fondly, Jungkook breaking eye contact with his daughter at your comment. 

His eyebrows frown, clearing his throat as he shifts in his seat. ‘’Thanks.’’ 

Okay, there were exactly two things that fumed you over his flat-toned answer. One was that he was still a complete stranger and you’ve always felt somewhat threatened and uncomfortable when people you didn’t know made or said anything that clicked an icky feeling at the pit of your stomach, which quickly turns to irritation. Because here you are being fucking nice and you get this in return? What a fucking asshole. Second, it’s probably an ego thing, thinking he’s hot enough to get away with being quite literally rude. If it weren’t for his sudden act of rudeness towards your very tired Yeti-looking state you might actually grow fond of him, but that is all forgotten now. 

You’re getting that fucking apartment. 

Working as a kindergarten teacher meant a lot of things. Patience, energy, and consistency. For you to reach there before showing up at work, you’ll need to fuel your body with a smoothie. 

The clock hasn’t even turned six when you push the mixer’s button, a loud noise erupts in the quiet apartment. Did you do this on purpose knowing Jungkook isn’t starting work yet? Maybe. Did he notice, is fucking angry and walking up to you at this moment? Very much so. 

‘’Seriously? What the fuck?!’’ The shouting from your roommate pleases your early morning state and you force an annoying smile as you greet him with a cheerful good morning.  

‘’It’s for work!’’ You push the button for a little longer, his eyes rolling back when So-ah starts crying in the room next to you. The daughter does make you feel an ounce of regret but that’s mostly because you love babies and she’s made a good impression on you already. 

Jungkook groans in frustration, his grumpy state returning back to his daughter to soothe her while you hurriedly get to work. Your colleague is probably already there, having a different schedule than you. 

Traffic isn’t terrible and you’ve caught onto the lost sleep that vanished during your moving week. As you reach work, Taehyung waves excitedly to you from the entrance, while holding a cup of coffee. 

‘’You look awfully happy.’’ Taehyung remarks when you walk past him and inside, re-adjusting a few things before parents begin to arrive with their sunshine of kids. 

‘’I am.’’ Your mood definitely has something to do with nailing to piss Jungkook off early in the morning. That’s what he gets for being a complete ass after you’ve embarrassed yourself multiple times and just trying to be kind. 

‘’Care to tell me?’’ Taehyung moves his eyebrows, suggesting you got lucky and you quickly shut down the idea, shaking your head no along with you explaining it was an early win for you. 

‘’I basically pissed off my roommate this morning. He’s an asshole so he deserved it.’’ You shrug your shoulders, Taehyung following behind you as you both make the place ready, the clock ticking loudly behind you. 

‘’Roommate? I thought you had the place all to yourself?’’ Taehyung hadn’t gotten any updates from you since your stressful week, so it made sense for him to be completely lost when you mention Jungkook in the context of your cheerful mood this morning. 

‘’I got scammed. But I’m not surprised. I’ve carried bad luck all my life and I blame it on my strict parents.’’ You joke, Taehyung chuckling nervously unsure rather you’re completely kidding or deadly serious. It’s hard to tell.  

‘’Scammed, meaning the apartment you thought you had was already occupied?’’ Taehyung has lived in the city all his life, and he has been familiar with the scammers roaming in between others, and cheating the system who carries a blind eye. 

‘’Exactly, and here I was thinking shit like that only happens in the movies.’’ You scoff at the ridiculousness of the overall situation. How come you ended here? Not only with a scam, but a buff tatted guy and his baby daughter? Truly fucking wild. 

‘’Oh babe, you’d be surprised. So who’s the roommate? An old lady?’’ Taehyung jokes once again, the sounds of chairs clinging against each other roaming in the air, the both of you settling in the common room ready for the children. 

‘’I wouldn’t exactly say an old lady…’’ Taehyung’s interest quirks an ounce higher, his movements stopping to a halt, waiting for you to spill. 

‘’His name is Jungkook and he has a baby daughter named So-ah.’’ Taehyung’s face drops, eyes wide as his mouth hangs wide because clearly, no old lady is named Jungkook. 

‘’If you tell me right now he’s hot, I’m gonna think you’re living out everyone’s fantasy.’’ Taehyung holds up his pointy finger, eyebrow intact with his overall movement and you cringe because you really don’t want to admit Jungkook is hot — even though you ogled his abs for a good 20 minutes the first time you met him. 

‘’He’s—’’ You try to form words, your mind flashing images of Jungkook with wet hair, droplets of water covering his abs that tensed whenever he chuckled at your ridiculousness the day you got scammed. 

‘’Oh my god… You’re living with a DILF.’’ The term Taehyung uses makes you wheeze, losing composure as you move your body along with the laughter that escapes you. 

Taehyung doesn’t get more of a word before the first pair of parents walk in, hand in hand with their child. The day has just begun. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook is currently taking care of So-ah. She hasn’t stopped crying since you decided to be annoying and flush down the good morning that Jungkook had anticipated. Maybe he should kick you out because right now his left ear hasn’t stopped ringing while his daughter’s face is almost pure red due to her countless cries. 

‘’So-ah, please.’’ Jungkook places her down on his chest, her face rubbing on it, wetting it along, the discomforting sound continuing. Jungkook feels lost and he wants to revenge himself on you because you’re probably dancing at work while he’s here, with dark eye bags and a crying baby under his arm. 

Sometimes it makes him wonder if it would be different if So-ah’s mother were still around. Maybe she wouldn’t cry as much. A mother’s touch is important for babies at her age and Jungkook feels guilty. In reality, he just wants So-ah to be okay, to feel understood, and frankly, at the moment understanding her is difficult. He continues to pat her back, rocking her back and forth in his gaming chair, set up by the computer that has an awaiting meeting for him in two hours. He can do this, he’ll just freshen up as soon as she goes back to sleep. 

The day spins around faster than possible, the sun already setting behind the building in an orange glow and Taehyung is currently wiping down the mess that was left on the tables since lunch. 

‘’So, regarding your dilf, is he single?’’ You’re close to spilling the scene where you asked Jungkook where his partner was only to get a no, which only made you more curious than before. It isn’t likely for you in the span of living to have met a single father. In most cases it’s single mothers, so to say you were surprised was an understatement. 

‘’He— Yes, apparently he is.’’ You’re uncertain and Taehyung casually nods at the response, making you reconsider if you’re even allowed to be curious regarding Jungkook’s living situation. 

‘’Well, this is the start of a beautiful love story.’’ You stick your tongue out in offense to Taehyung’s joke, while he cracks himself up, his boxy smile on display as well. 

‘’You’re the worst.’’ He trails right behind you, as you close down the place and leave it behind for tomorrow. 

‘’Right, but if anyone were to ask you’d still point at me for being the best colleague you’ve had.’’ He’s not entirely wrong and you get to prove it to him by remaining silent. 

After you and Taehyung part ways, you hurry home in desperation to see if the grumpy expression is still remaining on Jungkook’s face from this morning. To your surprise, it isn’t. You find Jungkook sprawled on the couch, his chest exposed and his baby daughter laying on top of him, both of them breathing in sync. 

If Jeon Jungkook didn’t open his mouth from time to time you’d start to like him, because seeing him sleep in complete silence makes him seem… not so bad as you had thought. But then again he was rude even though he certainly helped you out after your scam episode. 

You decide to make dinner, leaving the both of them to rest while listening to soothing jazz music. Somehow with time passing by and the smell filtering through the apartment as it cooks, Jungkook stirs awake, So-ah along with him. He manages to push himself upwards, holding onto So-ah and finds you swaying as you cook in the open kitchen. 

Memories cloud Jungkook’s mind back when he was still with— 

‘’Oh! You’re awake.’’ You had felt a pair of eyes boring at your back, so when you turn to see Jungkook spacing out you make yourself noticeable. 

‘’Yeah, smells great by the way.’’ It’s then Jungkook realizes he’s yet to wear a shirt and it’s become an accidental habit of being shirtless in front of you. The last thing he wants is for you to get the wrong signal. 

‘’Thank you.’’ You take the compliment lightly, letting it pass by your head so your focus remains on the main goal; having Jungkook willingly move out. 

Jungkook is completely oblivious to your plan, although it would make sense if he slowly started to catch on to your smoothie early morning surprise. But for now, you’re hungry and there’s still a good five months left before you leave each other’s sight. 

The dinner turns out successful, So-ah doesn’t cry once and both you and Jungkook groan afterward, bloated from overeating. He thanks you before returning back to his room, leaving you to do all the dishes. 

Great. 

Living with Jungkook had run smoothly, your hopes in gaining the apartment fading the more time went by with him being extremely kind. It hadn’t offended you but you were certain he was rude and didn’t like you. But an early Monday morning, Jungkook proved to you exactly how much that apartment means to you. 

You hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep that night, the walls a lot thinner than you had anticipated and So-ah had cried most of the night, not only waking her dad but you as well. Babies are wonderful creatures, but at night it surely paints a different motive than the one you’re being met with during the day. 

Blaming Jungkook for your lack of sleep would be rude on your part, so you accept it by making a cup of coffee early morning. It was the next best solution and as you’re sitting on the counter, waiting for the water to boil, Jungkook walks in dressed in black joggers and a white t-shirt. 

‘’Morning.’’ You’re holding back from laughing at how alike the both of you look. So-ah really destroyed you for the better. Jungkook joins in on the coffee solution, making his mug ready right next to you in silence. 

When the water is ready, you jump down, pouring the warm water after adding a few teaspoons of instant coffee. Jungkook follows you right after, stirring it with his spoon. As you walk towards the refrigerator, Jungkook is quicker than you, pulling the milk out and pouring it into his mug. 

‘’Could you pass me the milk?’’ Jungkook grins at your question and it’s then you notice he’s poured the remaining drops, leaving no milk for you. Fucking marvelous. 

‘’Better luck next time.’’ He winks at you, slowly walking back to his room as you flick him off without him noticing. 

Yeah, you definitely spoke too soon when you even let yourself think Jungkook might be a nice guy. He’s not and he just started a war. 

Taehyung notices how different your state is today, the flatlined smile throwing him off guard. Being the good colleague that he is, he makes you sit down as he prepares everything. 

‘’I’m not doing this for free, spill.’’ You groan out of tiredness and anger, holding your face that can barely keep up with everything around you. 

‘’Fucking… Jungkook.’’ You squint your eyes, already plotting how you’ll manage to rip every part of him apart. Taehyung would lie if he admitted that you in your current state isn’t scaring the shit out of him. 

‘’I was beginning to think he was remotely nice, until this morning.’’ Taehyung hums along, uncertain where exactly you’re heading with this conversation. It’s something Taehyung has learned about you in the past years you’ve worked alongside, your conversations always turn in a different direction no matter how precisely you start them.  

‘’Taehyung, would you get pissed if someone took the rest of the milk when you’ve already prepared a cup of coffee?’’ 

‘’He didn’t—’’ 

Everything makes sense for Taehyung. Jungkook has practically started a war with you because one thing everyone should know when it comes to you is to never mess with your morning coffee. Specifically when you desperately need one. 

‘’He surely fucking did.’’ You scoff out of disbelief. ‘’He even laughed when he emptied it.’’ The images flash through your brain once more, a betrayal that has caused a lot of damage to your already ruined morning state due to So-ah. 

‘’Go make yourself some coffee, don’t let him get to your head for now. It’s not worth it.’’ Taehyung was right, it would stupid to hold milk accountable for Jungkook and your reasons for despising him. Hopefully, it was a mistake and you’ll return home with a better state of mind, Jungkook leaving you rather at peace.

You follow Taehyung’s instructions, walking inside the semi-small kitchen for staff, and begin making your fuel for the day. 

Work turns out easier after you get coffee in your system, Taehyung takes most of the tasks throughout the day to ease down any forms of headaches that might come along due to your lack of sleep. Small moments and gestures like these, remind you how truly lucky you are to have a colleague like Taehyung. He has never made things more difficult, always managing to make everything easy and simple. 

As soon as the clock strikes, parents fill up the entrance awaiting their children who are too busy playing outside, enjoying their free time. The sun has already moved down further, creating a beautiful sunset, whose golden rays move along the filled playground that’s messy due to every toy in sight being used throughout the day. The parents were kind enough to teach their kids to always clean up after themselves, leaving the entrance the remaining spot to clean. When you’re about to reach for a broom, Taehyung catches it before you. 

‘’Go home. I got this.’’ His voice is stern as if he already knows you’re about to plead to do it yourself. 

You let out a sigh, thanking him as many times as you can in the span of you dressing yourself up to go outside. Taehyung brushes you off, a semi-smile resting nicely on his framed face. 

The apartment is empty, silent, and dark when you enter. You wonder where Jungkook must’ve gone, the sky from outside already an ounce darker than when you stepped out from work. You’re not too worried, your petty self still being remotely annoyed with the morning incident. 

When you walk past the living room, you feel yourself crash down and watching a movie. It’s much needed after today and maybe it’ll slowly lull you to sleep. Since you were little, sleeping at night had always been a difficulty so a distraction in the background could likely push you towards the sleep you’ve been craving. 

You settle on watching a crime film that piques your interest on Netflix. You’ve managed to add a bit more lighting inside the apartment, a few lamps surrounding the couch.

The plot starts to reveal itself, leaving you speechless as you bite down on the blanket, eyes fully open, trailing along whenever someone moves on screen. You’re just about to catch a big lead to why the certain murder occurred when Jungkook walks in with So-ah drinking from a bottle.  

‘’Oh, hey.’’ You quickly say before averting your attention back on the screen. Jungkook squints his eyes, having trouble seeing the big screen but as soon as he catches on, he tsks. 

‘’Wait— Isn’t that the film where the protagonist is actually the killer?’’ The moment Jungkook speaks, a clue leads to having the protagonist on the list of who might’ve done it and now Jeon Jungkook just asked for a ticket to hell. 

‘’Are you fucking kidding me?!’’ You exclaim loudly, throwing both hands and arms in the air, frustration seeping through every vein coursing through your body. You’re seeing absolute red. 

‘’Oh shit, my bad.’’ You aren’t even glancing towards him, but you can hear the shit eating grin he’s trying to suppress. You close your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, remembering Taehyung’s words from earlier. It’s not worth it. He’s right, it truly isn’t and you’re being weak by letting small annoying things set you off like a grenade. 

You’re not letting him win. Things have only just begun. 

Returning the favor with annoying gestures had only turned the next two months into a living hell. The apartment went from walking on a dream to walking on eggshells. It had started with a minor mistake in the early morning with the dreadful lack of sleep and constant bickering. Your dreams of owning the apartment slowly crashing as you’ve been looking for new apartments, wanting to get furthest away from Jeon Jungkook and his annoying behavior. 

If it weren’t for Taehyung you would’ve handled the situation differently, but Taehyung has always assured you to stand your ground and not let him get to you. Jungkook has already been kind enough for you to stay, so to make it easier, it’d be best not to mess it up by revenging yourself. But you badly wanted to. Just once. To see Jungkook’s face twist to annoyance in a mere second, while you try your best not to sing happily right after. 

Although, the only thing keeping both you and Jungkook on the ground from ripping one's hair out, was So-ah. Her magical baby powers overrule the both of you, and her eyes are wide and full of hope for what’s to come. 

When you had first moved in, Jungkook wasn’t exactly fond of you being near his daughter but with time and his suddenly busy schedule, he had you keep an eye out for So-ah who was distracting him too much with her cuteness. So-ah quickly loved your company, your small jokes, and countless attempts in making her giggle. Jungkook couldn’t keep you two away from one another, so he accepted it. 

The weekend had finally rolled around and after a week of none other than small bickering and disagreements between you and Jungkook, you were finally at ease in your bedroom. The discussions between you were ridiculous — Taehyung’s words not yours. It could go from a minor detail, like the temperature in the apartment to a full-on debate on whether the film he wants to watch is better than your own choice. 

As you’re laying in your bed, you look up at the painted dark blue ceiling, your curtains open, accepting the outside light to shine in. You’ve always loved the natural darkness and how it covers every room differently than if everything is covered, turning to full darkness. You turn constantly, your mind being more awake than you had anticipated. It humors you that you always feel exhausted after speaking with Jungkook, yet here you are alone full of energy. 

Tossing and turning continue for what feels like an hour and you decide to give up. Rather than reading a book, you walk out to grab a glass of water, your throat feeling a bit dry. You figure Jungkook isn’t awake at three in the morning, which explains why you don’t put on pants, walking out in nothing but a satin white t-shirt, with black lace underwear. 

Even though you don’t like Jungkook, you still show respect to him and his daughter by carefully walking to the kitchen to not make any sounds. The living room has the same light as your bedroom and as you’re about to turn, you bump into Jungkook. His skin feels warm, but you quickly pull away and Jungkook blinks at you with tired eyes. 

‘’M’ sorry.’’ His voice is deep, groggy even and you collect the dots that Jeon Jungkook just woke up. 

‘’All good.’’ 

Thankfully, Jungkook is too busy going to the bathroom to notice your sleeping attire that exposes half of your body. You sigh in relief, accidentally catching a glimpse of Jungkook’s ass, being hugged by his boxers as he walks further away from you. 

You shake your head, ignoring what your eyes caught onto, focusing solemnly on getting water as planned. 

You’re about to drink your last cup when Jungkook walks past you once again. You’re not in the mood to talk to him, so you chug your water wanting to leave the kitchen as quickly as possible. It doesn’t exactly go as planned, the water trickling by the corners of your lips, further down your shirt. 

‘’Fuck.’’ You groan, realizing how much you’ve accidentally spilled. The fabric clings onto your breasts and as you’re about to pull on it, you catch Jungkook turning his head quickly from your direction. The action doesn’t throw itself in your head, instead, you become annoyed. 

‘’What?’’ Why is he still standing here? Shouldn’t he already be back in his room by now? 

‘’J-just grabbing some water.’’ Jungkook mumbles, his voice becoming an ounce lower and somehow it catches your attention that he sounds nervous? 

‘’Be my guest.’’ You move further away, trying to cover your lower half who’s exposing too much to your roommate who has managed to piss you off for two months straight with absolutely no reason. 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the sink, although you throw a glance at him and you really wish you hadn’t. His arms are flexing as they hold onto the counter, and the prominent veins and lines of his definite muscles are showcased. You begin to notice each small detail of his tattoos that have managed to flow into one big art piece on his arm. 

You’ve been too annoyed with Jungkook to notice the minor details of him. His Adam's apple bops in the rhythm of the gulps he takes, almost inhaling the water quickly. Somehow your body reacts quicker than your mind, shivers coursing through your body the longer you stand and watch Jungkook. The staring gets cut off when Jungkook places the empty cup down on the counter. 

He throws a glance your way, your skin already feeling hot by the close space. ‘’Well, goodnight.’’ Jungkook walks past you, your faces inches apart for a split second before he’s gone from your sight. 

When you lay back down in your bed, your heart is beating incredibly fast and your body doesn’t stop growing hotter. What is wrong with you? This is Jungkook. As in your roommate, who’s made it his life’s mission in pissing you off and almost made you explode like a grenade for the whole world to see and the neighborhood to hear. 

All while you’re wondering why exactly your brain feels fuzzy, Jungkook is freaking out in his room. His dick has managed to betray him. He blames it on his lack of hookups, but deep down he knows it was because of you. His mind had fogged for a minute when he caught a glimpse of what was hiding underneath your t-shirt, but as soon as the water dripped down he didn’t even have to try and guess. He’s angry and frustrated at himself and if it were possible to have a one-on-one fight with his dick, he would’ve. His body had only betrayed him and that made him certain that he had to stay far away from you. 

Although, whenever Jungkook closed his eyes he could see your naked thighs, and the black lace seeping through the material of your shirt. He could see the water dripping down your neck, rolling further down your chest and creating a wet patch on your— 

This has to stop. Jungkook begins to think of everything that turns him off until his state finally gives in, letting him sleep. 

It takes longer for you. Your mind has always loved to play tricks, letting you imagine the what if’s of every situation you’re met with. They’re simple at first, only showcasing what you had seen earlier when your eyes didn’t stop studying every minor detail on Jungkook. But then they turn an ounce wilder. You’re tracing your fingers on the ink, while his arm is holding onto your waist, keeping you close and letting you feel his warm breath against your cheek. 

Fuck. 

Do you… do you want Jungkook? 

Taehyung notices it the moment you step into work, how quiet you are, not daring to meet his eyes when he cheerfully greets you. Something happened and you’re not exactly proud of it. 

‘’So, am I gonna have to ask or are you going to tell me what happened?’’ Your eyes pop open, gulping down as you mumble out a weak ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ and quickly move on with your tasks for the day. 

Taehyung isn't letting that slide so easily and sooner or later he’ll either find out for himself or you’ll tell him out of panic. 

It takes Kim Taehyung exactly four hours to know exactly what has been bothering you and just as you’re about to leave the kindergarten, he decides to bring it up. 

‘’You want to fuck him.’’ You stop in your tracks. 

Okay, now is the time to use your fifth grade theater skills and act as if Taehyung didn’t speak your thoughts out in the open. 

‘’Fuck Jungkook? As in Jeon Jungkook, my annoying roommate who’s made my living situation a living hell the last two months? Oh please.’’ 

‘’Y/N, you know that doesn’t work on me.’’ You sigh loudly, rolling your eyes. 

‘’Fine, fine!’’ You throw your hands in the air, giving up and Taehyung just shakes his head over your dramatic antics. 

‘’I thought you, ‘hated his guts’.’’ Taehyung quotes you from the past hundred conversations you’ve had regarding your roommate and the new banter you’ve yet shared before you left for work. 

‘’I still do! This will fade, do not worry.’’ Not only are you trying to convince Taehyung, but yourself as well. 

Taehyung doesn’t argue with you. You have enough on your plate already and he knows you’re very much conscious of the mess you’ve brought upon yourself. 

When you leave work and Taehyung, your phone starts to ring in your pocket and you’re thrilled to see Ash’s name displayed. 

‘’Hi!’’ Your friend cheerfully greets you and the conversations immediately flows. She tells you how amazing it’s been living with Lucca and how they’re currently making her favorite dish. 

‘’That’s great babe.’’ When she’s about to ask you how your new apartment is, Lucca cuts her off, talking on the phone instead. 

‘’Y/N, come over! We have your favorite wine.’’ The offer tempts and you agree, taking transportation towards your old apartment. It doesn’t even faze you to text Jungkook that you’ll come home a bit later, too excited to see your friends again after so long. 

Jungkook has just finished changing So-ah’s diaper, when he realizes it’s dark outside and you haven’t come home yet. Just as he begins to worry, he scolds himself internally for worrying about you as if he even cares about you in the first place. You’re doing fine without him. Right? 

So-ah grabs Jungkook’s attention when she manages to roll over for the first time and Jungkook cheers her on, grabbing her face to give her kisses everywhere, her small arms flapping excitedly. 

‘’Wait, you have a roommate?’’ Lucca asks, as they pour a glass of wine in your almost empty glass. You find yourself sighing whenever Jungkook is mentioned and you quickly see the images of his body against the natural darkness in the kitchen. 

‘’Yes, two actually.’’ 

You spend the following thirty minutes explaining your scam situation, Jungkook and his baby daughter now being your roommates for the next six months. You mention your irritation towards Jungkook due to his annoying antics, and the kitchen encounter. 

‘’Woah.’’ Ash’s mouth has gone dry from keeping it open for a while, and Lucca doesn’t hesitate to drink up the rest of the wine in their glass. 

The situation is indeed complicated and overwhelming and you chug along with Lucca on the wine while Ash starts coughing. 

‘’But listen, just because I’ve thought about it doesn’t mean I would.’’ Excuses, that’s all you can bring to the table and Ash rolls her eyes at your ridiculousness. 

‘’Are you fucking kidding me? You haven’t had sex for almost a year. Babe, sorry but you’re gonna cave.’’ 

Your mouth drops in offense and you turn to get Lucca on your side, but they stay quiet which indicates they agree with every word. 

‘’S-seriously? You’re gonna pick Ash’s side over mine?’’ You point at your ex-roommate who smirks, knowing she’s won. 

‘’Y/N, you need a distraction.’’ Ash speaks first, holding onto both of your hands for comfort because she’s worried, you can see it in her eyes that slightly crinkle when she speaks. 

‘’A distraction?’’ 

‘’Yes, someone who isn’t Jungkook.’’ Lucca winces at the idea, watching Ash explain an idea that’s nothing but awful and stupid. 

‘’Um, maybe this isn’t—’’ Lucca tries to butt in, but Ash is stubborn. 

‘’Nonsense. Isn’t your friend Han-bin still single?’’ 

‘’Well, yes but—’’ 

‘’Perfect. Y/N, you should go on a date with Han-bin. Not only is he a very sweet guy, but he’s an excellent cook.’’ Ash tries her best to sell Han-bin as best as possible for you, and at this point you’re desperate to try anything. Anything to get Jungkook and his beautiful body out of your mind. 

‘’Okay, you can give him my number.’’ Lucca is about to throw a fight with Ash, but you’ve already agreed so there’s no point. 

‘’You’re not going to regret this babe.’’ Ash convinces you but deep down your gut feeling shifts uncomfortably at the idea. 

Two and a half weeks. That’s how long it takes for you and Han-bin to find some time for the date that he’s planning. The pictures frame him nicely and it’s no lie that the guy is attractive, although your mood is dreading a weird feeling that you can’t exactly pinpoint. 

As you walk towards the exit, Jungkook notices how nicely dressed you are. Normally you don’t bother adding a formality to your outfits, but this… this is too classy, just not you. 

‘’Going somewhere?’’ You turn your head, Jungkook watching you from the couch as So-ah is laying on his legs, holding onto her dad’s pinky. 

‘’Actually, yes I am.’’ You answer confidently, holding tightly onto the strap of your bag. The bag whom your mom gifted you for your eighteenth birthday, when in reality you just wished for Jackson Wang merch. The bag is more expensive than your rent, and you feel weird using it today. Somehow you aren’t that comfortable being yourself yet, also the restaurant Han-bin has picked out is way too expensive for you to just wear your casual attire. 

‘’But, I’m gonna be late for my date so I’ll see you later yeah?’’ Jungkook tries not to react to the word date, but his jaw clenched as he tries to force out a fake smile. 

‘’Good for you.’’ Jungkook expects you to leave right away, but you catch him by surprise, walking towards him and So-ah. 

‘’Bye, pretty.’’ You squish her cheeks softly, as she coos excitedly and Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at the love seeping through the room. His daughter watches you with careful eyes as you remove yourself from the frame, walking towards the front door and Jungkook’s heart doesn’t stop pounding, he thinks he might faint. 

You’ve only been gone for an hour and Jungkook can’t stop thinking about you. His mind constantly brings back the small kitchen encounter and how both your faces were inches apart for a split second before he continued to walk towards his room. 

He needs to make this stop. He’s here at home groaning and frustrated over you, you who’s currently on a date and having a wonderful time. 

‘’So, then my roommate proceeded to drink the same water!’’ Han-bin explains jokingly and you’ve lost track of the many gross experiences he’s had with his four roommates. You’ve lost your appetite halfway through, the gross details clouding your mind, but thankfully it’s that and not Jungkook. 

Before you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, Han-bin compliments your hair and you smile at the sincerity of his comment. It makes you realize that Jungkook has never once pointed out something great about you. Wait, why are you even thinking about Jungkook? 

There’s only one solution for Jungkook to get you out of his mind. He’s collected the dots and it’s because he hasn’t sex for a year that he’s acting this way. You just managed to set him off. It’s nothing more personal than that. 

So, easily he’ll just need to get out there, maybe Jimin would be down to go clubbing tonight, and hopefully Jungkook gets to take someone home. Which explains why he’s now talking to his sister, arranging for her to have So-ah for the weekend. She gladly accepts, her husband shouting nonsense in the background which causes Jungkook to laugh before his sister has to hang up, because her husband is messing up everything in the kitchen. 

The date for you might’ve started out a bit weird, but slowly you realize Han-bin is a really nice guy and you enjoy talking to him. The conversation has a good balance, both of you speaking equally about interests, experiences… 

‘’Want me to walk you home?’’ Han-bin suggests. 

You have a lot on your mind, even though you managed to have a nice evening it doesn’t stop the nonsense that you’ve created for yourself regarding your roommate who you have the hots for. 

‘’I’m okay, thank you for tonight Han-bin.’’ 

It’s a little over midnight when you arrive home. The apartment is dark which is code for bedtime for the whole house. So, you play quietly, tiptoeing to your room and trying your best to not make a sound. 

You hear a sudden whine echoing in the apartment, and before you can ask any questions, Jungkook’s name is being moaned loudly and your body freezes in place. You’re stuck. Although, the moans don’t slow down, only increasing — the thin walls doing no favor for you. 

Emotions are all over the place. You don’t know if you’re angry, irritated, sad, happy, uncomfortable… you’re just stuck with no words. 

As you finally lay down, you squish your third pillow over your head, blocking out the skin slapping sounds and somehow — weirdly — the situation motivates you to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head. 

Step one to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head, find a clubbing partner. 

‘’Taehyung, shut up you haven’t done anything else than complain about the lack of sex you’ve been experiencing lately.’’ You reason, as you look through your closet for eye-catching clothes that surely will get you laid. 

‘’Fuck you, you always know what to say to get me to agree.’’ With a groan Taehyung finally says the magic word, telling you he’ll see you later. This was easier than you had expected. 

Step two to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head, find a club loaded with hot people. 

Thankfully, Taehyung knows his way around town and the club he’s picked out is perfect. As soon as you both step in, the neon lights catch you off guard along with the hard base and the moving dance floor. 

Going out with Taehyung is fun, until he’s shoving his tongue down a guy’s throat. Apparently they met by the bar, and Taehyung being the flirt, persuaded the stranger easily. 

Sipping on your straw, you keep your eyes on a lookout for a potential hookup. Most are occupied, either sexting someone or having someone close by. The bartender in front of you notices the wearing frown that covers your beautiful face. 

‘’You okay?’’ The unrecognizable voice catches you off guard and when you set eye on the bartender, your mouth tries not to drop. 

The bartender is wearing a tight black t-shirt, showcasing his pecs and built shoulders. His hair is long, pulled behind a snapback. He looks at you with a worried expression, holding onto the counter. 

‘’I’m okay.’’ You force a smile. 

‘’Come on, I can tell something is bothering you. I’m all ears.’’ 

The offer is kind and just as you’re about to say no, the bartender continues. 

‘’Listen, I couldn’t help but notice your friend making out with that guy for the past thirty minutes.’’ You turn around, Taehyung is still going at it and you roll your eyes over your colleague being better than you at getting some. 

‘’Yeah, he’s got more luck than myself.’’ You sigh, folding your arms over the counter and the bartender cracks a laugh. 

‘’Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get lucky.’’ He winks and your body grows hot. 

‘’I’m giving it an hour, or else I’m leaving.’’ You crack, and the bartender raises his eyebrows. 

You watch as the bartender walks to the far side of the bar and comes out front to stand right in front of you. He towers over you and you have to lift your head to look into his eyes, watching as they darken. One of his hands snakes around to the small of your back as he pulls you towards him. Your chest is flushed against his own and now you can really feel the hardness of his pecs and your mouth waters. He places his other hand around to the side of your neck, lowering himself closer to your face. His lips ghost your ear, the skin making the slightest contact as he speaks.

"You don't need an hour."

A shiver rakes through your body at the proposition.

"I don't even know your name," you say with a hint of a giggle laced in your tone.

"The name's Namjoon.’’ You nod, tracing your finger on his broad shoulder while his eyes continue to explore every inch of you. 

‘’Y/N.’’ 

His grip tightens on you, and before you get a chance to speak Namjoon beats you to it. 

‘’Wanna get out of here?’’ 

It takes nothing more than for you to drag Namjoon home with you, leaving Taehyung and his hookup behind. 

Namjoon is bold that you’re completely blown away by his confidence. He’s managed to make you wet before even reaching your apartment. His words only build up the intensity of the situation and when you finally reach the front door, you look back, Namjoon biting on his lip as he patiently waits. 

When the code is pushed in, you grab Namjoon by the collar of his bomber jacket, until you reach your room. 

Namjoon doesn’t waste another minute, grabbing you once again by the waist to connect your lips in a needy and passionate kiss. It’s full of tongue, along with lip bites. You whine against them when the tip of his tongue coats your bottom lip as he mischievously smirks. 

Your hands tug on his neck, pulling him as close as you can, all while his hands slip under your shirt and roam on your naked back. His hands are slightly cold, sending a shiver. With enough pulling on each other’s clothes in desperation, Namjoon is the first to pull away trying to catch his breath. 

‘’Take off your shirt.’’ You don’t hesitate to obey, tugging on your top in a hurry before it lands on your bedroom floor. 

Jungkook had just finished a last minute task at work, realizing he had enough time for a game of Overwatch. He’s focused on aiming, the mouse moving at a speed, along with the clicks on his keyboard. Just as he’s about to reach a win, he hears the front door lock. 

He removes his headset, in doubt if he should walk out and greet you, ask you about your night with Taehyung or stay and play stubborn. The decision gets made for him, when he hears an unfamiliar voice coming from your room. 

Wait. 

Namjoon hovers over you, his hands wandering over your upper body, not missing one inch. His warm breath almost swallows you whole as you slowly spread your legs further beneath him. 

He catches the signal quickly, moving more downwards, letting his mouth trail wildly on your naked skin. He nips at it softly, before replacing it with a wet kiss. 

As he’s reached further down, Namjoon locks eyes with you, supporting both hands on your waist. 

‘’Can I eat you out?’’ 

When Jungkook hears the first moan from your room, he feels instant irritation. In reality, it’s not anything he can actually get mad about, when not even twenty four hours ago, he was knees deep in a stranger. But something ticks in Jungkook when he hears how someone else is making you moan like that. 

‘’Ah— Fuck!’’ Your grip tightens on Namjoon’s long dark hair, his tongue rolling over your clit in circles. 

Namjoon is making sure you feel every inch of pleasure, taking his time with his mouth and fingers. You’ve forgotten how great it feels, and Namjoon was definitely the right guy to bring home.

His mouth pushes further against your core, lapping his tongue wherever it can reach and your legs begin to shake under his touch. It’s been a while for you, so your body doesn’t hold you back any further from the reaching orgasm, coming from beneath you. 

Jungkook has blocked out the sounds from your room with his headphones. The sounds from Overwatch are helping him hear only the gunshots and effects the game carries, yet the sounds don’t stop him from feeling a tinge of jealousy. He doesn’t want to admit it, too stubborn to do so. But the thought of someone making you come this second, settles itself as an uncomfortable pit in his stomach and he grabs his mouse more aggressively, frustration coursing through his veins. 

What are you doing to him?  

Time passes quickly, both you and Jungkook distancing each other from one another. You barely throw a glance at one another. For example, yesterday when Jungkook passed by the living room, you were sitting in silence as New Girl rolled in the background. He knows you could hear him passing, but you didn’t even bother to acknowledge him. Jungkook wishes deep down that the action didn’t hurt him, but somehow it did and now he can’t be around you for his own well being. 

Which results in one month of barely any contact. 

Although, it changes the day Jungkook has to go to a meeting. His boss was okay with him bringing So-ah, as Ji-eun didn’t have time to pick her up for a few hours — and he surely didn’t want to ask you. 

So-ah behaves, zero disturbance caused to the meeting and Jungkook lets her hold his pinky while his boss throws in the plan for the upcoming year. 

When the meeting ends, Jungkook gets a lot of praise from his boss which flusters him as he leaves the building. 

‘’Ready to go home So-ah?’’ She responds with her mouth doing all kinds of noises. She’s slowly growing more, and Jungkook is touched of how beautiful his daughter is becoming with each passing day. 

Going home doesn’t go as planned. You see, Jungkook had always worked from home, due to his job consisting of mostly online work. So he barely leaves the apartment except for grocery shopping or to meet Jimin. Which is the reason behind his big mistake; forgetting his keys. 

It was a new system. The code for opening doors had been dropped after scam episodes had increased. Last month the whole residency got new locks along with a pair of keys. 

Jungkook hates himself, because now there’s only one solution and he really doesn’t want to go there. 

When he pulls up by the kindergarten, Jungkook mentally prays the interaction won’t be awkward. Not that it hasn’t been awkward the last month, but this is different. He’s about to enter your workplace for a goddamn key, because his ass rushed out the apartment instead of being smart and double checking that he had everything before leaving in a hurry. 

You’re gonna hate him for this. He can already imagine the slight frown you’ll have, trying your best not to scold him harshly. 

It’s empty when Jungkook walks in, So-ah sitting comfortably in the infant car seat, which Jungkook holds onto tightly. 

‘’Hello?’’ He calls out, the hallway completely deserted. That’s until a man peaks his head out, raising both brows. 

‘’Hi, can I help you?’’ He walks towards him, drying his hands in what seems to be a cloth. 

‘’Hi, yes. I’m looking for Y/N.’’ 

The man in front of him drops his mouth before it turns to a boxy grin. 

‘’Oh my god. Are you Jungkook?’’ The face Jungkook makes, proves the man’s assumption. 

‘’Taehyung? Could you help me with— Jungkook?’’ He turns to see you, your brows in a frown as he suspected. 

‘’Oh, you’re Taehyung?’’ Jungkook completely ignores your confused state, too excited to meet the Kim Taehyung that his roommate is very fond of. 

‘’An honor.’’ Taehyung bows comically, and Jungkook cracks a laugh from the action. Just as Taehyung is about to crouch down to greet So-ah, you step further, meeting Jungkook eye to eye. 

‘’Jungkook? What are you doing here?’’ You ask. 

Taehyung ignores your question, greeting So-ah gently as Jungkook explains to you the situation. He tries to make himself sound less stupid than he was in the situation, but you don’t seem to buy it. 

You sigh, crossing your arms. ‘’How do you even forget a key?’’ Great, you’re starting a fight. 

‘’It just happened, now can I borrow yours so I can get home?’’ Jungkook’s tone is a bit snappy, and you notice, quickly fuming on the inside. 

Taehyung notices the tension, sending a glance to So-ah that screams ‘am I seeing this too?’ So-ah starts laughing and Taehyung knows internally that she agrees with him. He loves her already. 

‘’Fine, just— Don’t let this happen again.’’ You say sternly, before walking away to grab your keys. 

‘’Trust me, it won’t.’’ Jungkook rolls his eyes when your back turns. 

You aggressively shove the keys in Jungkook’s hand, Taehyung still having a conversation with So-ah throwing funny glances, but neither you nor Jungkook notice, too busy staring each other down. 

‘’Great.’’ 

‘’Great!’’ Jungkook responds more aggressively, saying a calm goodbye to Taehyung who excitedly waves to So-ah. And then he’s out of there faster than lighting. 

‘’Jesus, what crawled up your asses?’’ Taehyung asks, scoffing in disbelief. 

‘’Nothing. Now come help me with the outdoor tables.’’ 

He doesn’t ask any further, seeing you really don’t want to talk about it this moment. 

Jungkook has already started to cook when you ring the doorbell. He opens, greeting you with the expression he left you with at work. 

You return the same energy, not speaking to him as you remove your coat. 

You’re about to walk into your bedroom, to avoid Jungkook when So-ah catches your attention in the living room, rolling around on her own and chewing on a toy. She’s too cute to ignore, so you decide to join her, sitting beside her as you squish her cheeks in a playful manner. 

‘’Look at you, you’ve grown so much.’’ You can’t believe you’ve been a witness to So-ah’s growth. She’s already able to grab onto things, rolling around and rocking back and forth which is a sign she’ll be able to crawl soon. 

As you continue to play with her, letting her explore and sing as she babbles all kinds of nonsense, Jungkook turns to watch the scene. 

You’ve always been careful with So-ah, grasping her as your own and caring a lot for her. He’s noticed how So-ah barely cries anymore, being more calm in your presence. He can get used to this, watching you play with his daughter as he cooks for all three of you. He’s at peace, comfortable with everything in front of him and—

The realization hits Jungkook. 

He doesn’t hate you. 

You don’t know exactly the moment you realized you didn’t hate Jungkook. It just happened. One day you were in the kitchen and he walked past you, minding his own business and you didn’t have any urge to throw a remark. No, you felt at ease, letting your eyes admire him rather than watch him out of spite. 

Panic seeped through you when you looked at the overall situation. You don’t hate Jungkook, you’ve thought about fuc— Shit. What does this mean? Do you… do you like him? 

That’s crazy, there’s no way you’re possibly liking Jungkook or even starting too. Which is why you agree to go on yet another date with Han-bin. Last time hadn’t turned out that bad. The company was nice, you felt comfortable and yet something just didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the gross experiences Han-bin wasn’t so afraid to share with you, or maybe… because he isn’t a certain someone. 

No. 

You’re going on that date. 

The moment you leave the apartment, Jungkook is taking his afternoon nap with So-ah so you don’t bother notifying him where you’re going. There’s a certain ache in your heart the closer you are to the location picked out by Han-bin. 

Once again, it’s too fancy for your liking but Han-bin makes the environment comfortable with the company of his wild stories. They’re less gross this time and you find yourself laughing at a few of them. 

Time flies rather quickly with Han-bin’s company. If this weren’t a date, you’d be more at ease because Han-bin is a kind person. But dating him might be a stretch for yourself, seeing your mind keeps tracing back to your roommate who probably still hates your guts. 

‘’Hey, can I be honest with you?’’ Han-bin throws you off guard with his question, but you nod regardless. 

‘’I’ve had a great time hanging out with you but,’’ Han-bin looks at you with a genuine and soft smile, ‘’I don’t really think there’s that spark you know?’’ 

‘’Spark?’’ Sure, you’ve dated a few people in the past but no one threw the word spark in the conversation. You think it’s cliché, like every romantic comedy who makes the spark obvious from the beginning. The spark that messes with the main character and their love interest, them tumbling against it until they get in a fight or have to share the same bed, which results in them sharing a passionate kiss and one of them magically proclaims the love they’ve always had for that person. 

That surely doesn’t exist in real life. 

‘’You know, the spark where you know that this person is much more to you. Someone who isn’t just a friend.’’ Han-bin says, his tone laced with hopefulness. It’s then you realize that Han-bin is a romantic, a person who believes in having a special someone for the rest of their life. 

‘’Yeah. I’m sure you’ll find that Han-bin. You’re a great guy.’’ 

‘’Wait, you’re not angry?’’ It’s cute how scared he is to offend you. 

‘’No, no of course not. I see where you’re coming from.’’ Han-bin’s shoulders loosen at your words, feeling more at ease since he’s decided to throw it in the conversation. 

Before you depart your ways, you both come to an agreement of keeping in touch as friends.

Arriving late at the apartment, you move quietly by the entrance. As you’re reaching your bedroom, Jungkook catches you off guard. 

‘’Sorry, did I wake you?’’ 

Jungkook shakes his head, ‘’you’re all good.’’ He doesn’t deny it and you feel a tinge of guilt, seeing the time is past midnight once again. 

You’re about to enter your bedroom door with a simple goodnight, when Jungkook catches you off guard with a question. 

‘’Hey, where were you?’’ Jungkook is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed which only showcase more of his prominent chest and his sleeve sneaking out of his loose t-shirt. 

‘’On a date.’’ You respond coldly, letting go of the handle. 

Jungkook hums, mumbling something along the lines of, ‘’I figured.’’ It throws you off, in a not so cute way. 

‘’What’s that supposed to mean?’’ It’s almost as if he spoke in a tone for you to hear on purpose, and you’re falling into his trap. 

He shrugs lightly. ‘’Nothing.’’ He’s about to turn around, wearing a smug smile when you continue, setting yourself up for whatever he’s trying to do. 

‘’Clearly it was something.’’ 

‘’Not really.’’ His unbothered attitude sets you off like a grenade, and you’ve finally lost your cool with Jeon Jungkook. 

‘’You know what? You drive me fucking nuts!’’ You aren’t bothered to care how much you’ve raised your voice. 

‘’You’re always pissing me off! For no fucking reason!?’’ Your face feels hot, the anger spilling out of you. 

Jungkook scoffs, unfolding his arms and moving closer to you. 

‘’I pissed you off because you started this! With your fucking morning smoothie.’’ He isn’t helping with the noise, raising his voice as much as you. 

‘’That was one time. Do you need me to quote every time you’ve managed to throw me off?!’’ Your veins are straining against your neck, giving everything you have into your shouting. 

‘’Go ahead!’’ 

‘’You took the rest of the milk. You spoiled the movie I was currently watching. You threw remarks whenever I did the slightest thing, and now? Now you’re commenting on my date!’’ 

Jungkook rolls his eyes at your comment, not bothering to answer you. Yet you continue, because you’re fueling on the inside. 

‘’You have no rights, when you were fucking someone else!’’ You’ve given the signal that you were somehow affected by it, and Jungkook quickly catches it. 

‘’You sound jealous.’’ 

‘’I’m not.’’ You cross your arms, determined to not let him think otherwise. 

‘’Just admit it!’’ 

Your faces are mere inches apart, both panting at a rapid pace. The whole room is heated and you feel yourself sweat underneath your shirt from all the shouting. 

‘’Fuck you.’’ It’s barely a whisper. 

Neither of you move. Eyes are wandering on each other’s faces and that’s when you notice Jungkook’s gaze dropping down to your lips. 

You’re seeing red, although your body feels heated as you move closer, Jungkook’s breath melting into yours. 

Jungkook studies your gaze, before he moves closer, his lips about to brush against yours. 

Just as you’re about to lean in yourself, So-ah starts crying next door, snapping the both of you out of your trance. 

‘’I– I better…’’ Jungkook starts. 

‘’Y-yeah, go ahead.’’ You stutter, moving further away and when Jungkook leaves the hallway, you breathe out. 

What the actual fuck. 

The following days you avoid Jungkook like the plague. You’ve never been more confused and irritated before. And yet, you can’t stop thinking about it. How close his face was, how his lips were about to seek yours until So-ah started to cry. 

Decisions need to be made. You can’t continue on like this. You need to talk to Jungkook, without screaming at him and wanting to rip his face off. 

As you’re laying under the covers, your thoughts are spiraling around you. You’re contemplating if you should ask him to talk now, because your mind won’t let you rest if you don’t. 

Fuck it. 

You get up in a hurry, walking in a straight line directly to Jungkook’s room. After a few minutes of just staring Jungkook’s door down, your body gives in, knocking on his door calmly. 

When he opens the door, he’s surprised to see you. 

‘’Hey.’’ 

‘’Hi, can we talk? No fighting, just talk.’’ Jungkook nods, grabbing a hoodie by his desk. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to wake up So-ah, so you sit outside, with a cup of tea. It was your idea. Somehow tea always managed to calm down your nerves, and if you wanted to withhold your promise to not fight, you needed to drink some tea along the way. 

‘’What did you want to talk about?’’ He sounds nervous, and your mind re-directs you back to when the both of you were about to kiss in the heat of the moment. 

Instead of bringing that onto the table, you want to ask Jungkook some things that have never left your mind since you moved in. 

‘’It’s more a question.’’ You make it clear and Jungkook turns his head, nodding for you to continue. 

‘’What happened? Why is it only you and So-ah?’’ 

Jungkook lets your question sink in. He’s uncertain if he wants to talk about it, or rather with you. It has somehow been easier for him to distance himself, push you away as much as he could, but that isn’t enough. 

You’re still here, sitting next to him as you admire the stars while awaiting his answer. 

The silence overflows, the wind curving itself as a comfort blanket around you both as you admire the small lights peaking out in the city. 

Jungkook has always been scared of your curious gaze, yet now, it makes sense for him to tell you everything, let his shield down and give you everything that’s needed for you to understand him completely. 

It’s what is needed for you to stop fighting and stepping on each other for no reason. 

‘’Her name was Seul-ki.’’ You turn, surprised he’s answering your question and you stay quiet, letting Jungkook speak. 

‘’She was always selfish. I should’ve known better.’’ Jungkook trails his finger against the mug, images of Seul-ki flooding his mind. 

He looks up, meeting your eyes and you smile softly at him. The smile brings an unwanted comfort, but it helps Jungkook to go through with answering your question fully, 

‘’So-ah was around one month when Seul-ki got a huge opportunity for her career. She didn’t hesitate to take the chance. But with So-ah, it made it difficult for her to go through with it, so she wanted to give So-ah up for adoption and I just—’’ Jungkook takes a deep breath, slightly beginning to tremble. 

‘’I couldn’t. I couldn’t let her do it.’’ Jungkook’s hand trembles against the mug, keeping his emotions locked in, even though they’re close to breaking out. 

‘’So, she left us.’’ 

‘’That must’ve been really hard for you.’’ You’re trying your best not to hold him for comfort, knowing he isn’t exactly fond of you. But something aches in you when you see the tremble he’s currently carrying and how his voice has turned broken. 

‘’Yeah.’’ He’s in doubt of what to say. But something in him continues, letting his inner thoughts win him over. Every frustration, pain and heartbreaking moments he’s felt since Seul-ki left. 

‘’Sometimes I wonder if I have made the right choice. In the beginning So-ah would cry constantly, she’d be distressed and I couldn’t help because I’m not her mother. Sometimes you just need both of your parents and she— she hasn’t…’’ 

‘’Jungkook.’’ Your warm hand lands on his, catching him off guard. 

‘’You’re an amazing dad. So-ah doesn’t need anyone else. You’re all she needs.’’ Your voice is soothing, melting him softly. He believes every word, trusting you much more than he had anticipated and with the hopeful eyes you’re giving him, he knows he’ll be okay. So-ah and him will be okay, without Seul-ki. 

‘’Thank you.’’ Jungkook smiles, the first genuine smile he’s given you since you moved in. 

You stay in place, letting the silence sink in between you as the cold wind flows. 

The starry night is beautiful, alive even. Sparkling and twinkling above you, reminding you of the beauty behind this earth. As you admire the details, Jungkook looks at you, his heart healing the longer he does and he never wants to let go of this moment. 

Everything becomes easier. You and Jungkook don’t fight anymore, instead you talk and grow closer as time passes. 

You’re still looking for a new apartment, even though the tension has eased down. A plan is a plan. 

Whenever you bring up the apartment search into a conversation between Jungkook and you, his demeanor changes quickly and he immediately shuts himself off. Here you were, thinking he’d be happy that you’re withholding your deal, not irritated. 

Instead of letting it get to you, you continue to hang out with Ash and Lucca. 

“So, Han-bin was a bad idea.” Ash repeats as you’ve told her how the two dates went. 

‘’I already called it the moment you recommended that idea. Like it was the best plan you’ve ever had.’’ Lucca intervenes, crossing their arms. Ash rolls her eyes at her partner, too embarrassed that they might’ve been right. 

‘’But, Ash was right. Han-bin is a sweet guy.’’ You say to hopefully cheer up your friend who’s about to mop in a corner. ‘’We even decided to stay friends.’’ With that, Ash excitedly cheers, and it’s probably because she’s a firm believer in friends to lovers and that it’s the most realistic trope there is out there, meaning she thinks in two three months you’ll finally have a spark with Hanbin. 

‘’How’s the apartment search going?’’ Lucca directs the conversation somewhere else, mostly to cool down Ash who’s probably planning a pinterest wedding board for you and Hanbin in the future. 

‘’It’s going, I think I found a place.’’ 

The supermarket isn’t as crowded as Jungkook anticipated when he came to the conclusion at the last minute that groceries were needed.  

So-ah is clutched tightly onto him, due to the baby sling that Jungkook had mastered the older So-ah got. With her head squished under his chin, Jungkook walks freely, collecting the products at a slow pace. 

‘’Jungkook?’’ His eyes avert to the sound, catching Taehyung waving at him. 

As Taehyung moves closer, Jungkook places down the item to greet him properly. 

‘’Hi So-ah.’’ Jungkook turns so Taehyung can get a better look at her, her eyes turning wide when she sees Taehyung. 

‘’She likes you.’’ Jungkook notices and Taehyung squishes her cheek carefully. 

‘’The feeling is mutual.’’ He cracks a smile. ‘’How’ve you been? Last time I saw you, you and Y/N were about to bite each other’s faces off.’’  The tone indicates he’s joking, although still curious as to how the relationship stands between the two. 

‘’It’s… It’s better.’’ It actually is, and Jungkook’s lips curl into a smile with the memory of your conversation. 

‘’That’s great to hear. She’s been super stressed with finding an apartment.’’ The information throws Jungkook off guard. Are you that desperate to leave? Right after he opened up to you? 

Taehyung quickly catches how Jungkook’s eyes turn downward, his jaw clenching. He’s uncertain if he should point it out, or leave it as it is. 

Thankfully, he gets saved by a call. 

‘’Hey, sorry my brother’s calling me. I’ll see you around?’’ Jungkook nods, and Taehyung softly says goodbye to So-ah before leaving with his phone by the ear. 

The uncomfortable pit never leaves Jungkook’s stomach after his run-in with Taehyung. He knows that there isn’t much time left, and you had made him the promise to leave the moment it hits six months but now? Now Jungkook isn’t so sure if he even wants you to leave. 

The last few weeks are spent on apartment hunting. You’re barely home, too busy being to open houses after work and on the weekends. It’s an easy distraction from your repressed feelings towards Jungkook and it’s exactly what you need. Sooner or later you’ll leave your roommates and start over on your own. 

Jungkook has an urge to tell you how he feels, how angry he is that you’re leaving but you keep missing each other. Whenever he passes by your room, he’s close to doing it but then you’re in a hurry to reach the next open house. 

If he hadn’t felt anything for you, he’d be extremely grateful that you’re doing all of this. You actually kept your promise and made yourself trustworthy. 

But, time is ticking and Jungkook is running out of time. He needs to do something, fast.  

The weekend rolls around, and Jimin comes to pick up So-ah for the night. 

‘’I owe you big time. Thank you.’’ He hands Jimin an overnight bag, with everything he needs to take care of So-ah. 

‘’Don’t mess this up Jungkook.’’ He gives a warning and Jungkook’s palms start to sweat. 

‘’I won’t.’’ Jimin leaves quickly after, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. 

Work runs smoothly for you, Taehyung and you, having fun with the children throughout the day but as soon as the golden sunset comes to view, you’re excited to come home. 

Home. Soon that home will turn into a different place and it makes your heart drop by the thought. You’ll miss Jungkook, with his crazy and annoying remarks. You’ll miss So-ah, her galaxy eyes and her curiosity. 

But nothing lasts forever. 

The apartment feels empty when you walk in. You don’t hear So-ah or Jungkook’s Overwatch that he always forgets to turn off. 

When you move to the living room, Jungkook is sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing at a quick pace. 

‘’Jungkook?’’ His head snaps up. 

‘’Y/N, hi.’’ He gets up, moving closer to you. 

‘’Are you okay?’’ He hasn’t stopped rubbing his palm on his neck, a nervous habit you’ve quickly caught onto while living with Jungkook. 

‘’I’m fine. I need to say something.’’ His voice is stern and you quickly step back, nodding. 

‘’Okay.’’ 

‘’I don’t want you to leave.’’ Your heart stops at his words. 

‘’What? Why?’’ 

Jungkook steps closer, his breathing uneven as he studies your face. ‘’B-because…’’ The nervous stuttering doesn’t stop and Jungkook closes his eyes for a moment. 

‘’Because I–’’ 

Jungkook doesn’t continue his sentence, pulling you closer by the waist before he lets his lips glide above yours. His lips feel soft, and your breath hitches subtly right as he presses them down to yours. 

The kiss is short, Jungkook pulling away just before you have a chance to act upon it yourself. 

‘’That’s why.’’ Jungkook doesn’t let his arm fall from your waist, still holding onto you tight. 

You don’t respond, instead your hand moves upwards, resting it by his cheek. Jungkook gulps by your action, leaning into your hand for more comfort and you smile softly at him. 

‘’I won’t leave.’’ You confirm and Jungkook’s body loosens, melting against yours as he reconnects your lips in yet another kiss. 

You clutch yourself to him, as your lips move in sync, giving each other every comfort needed. 

Neither of you move away, letting the kiss grow heated. When Jungkook slips his tongue past your lips, you’re almost drowning in his touch. He’s careful, teasing you along the way while giving you a taste of himself. You’re just about to pull him further in when he stops, leaning his forehead against yours. 

‘’Do you want to—’’ 

‘’Stop? No.’’ You hover your lips above his, before you whisper. ‘’Please, don’t stop.’’ 

You’ve waited too long for this, and now that you finally have Jungkook you don’t ever want this moment to stop. 

Jungkook’s demeanor changes completely, his softness somehow disappearing and an ache begins to grow between your legs on what’s to come. 

He turns you both around, pushing you down on the sofa. Jungkook continues to kiss you, his hand wandering on your breasts, before it drags further down, grabbing your thigh softly. 

You offer to touch him everywhere, starting by his back. Your hands slip through his t-shirt to roam on the naked skin. It feels delicate against your palm the further you drag it upwards to his nape. 

Jungkook’s breathing changes due to your touch, his lips moving further down, reaching your neck. His tongue traces patterns, letting you feel the wet sensation while your hold on Jungkook tightens. 

It doesn’t exactly click for you that Jungkook is hovering above you, giving you his time with his tongue on your neck. And it only excites you more that it’s finally happening. 

‘’Jungkook.’’ You murmur under your breath, bucking your hips forward in hopes of grazing yourself against his bulge. 

He groans against your neck at your neediness, giving you a small bite which makes you gasp. 

‘’You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this.’’ He says softly, his words trail gently on your skin, and you smile from the confirmation he just gave you. 

When he reaches your waistband, you grab ahold of his cheek. 

‘’What are you doing?’’ It’s not that you don’t want to, of course you do. You haven’t thought about anything else for the past three months of living with Jungkook but you’re nervous. 

‘’Let me make you feel good. Can I?’’ You gulp, nodding nervously, letting him have his way with you. 

Jungkook doesn’t even struggle when he takes off your pants, removing them perfectly and it almost makes you crack up at how ideal it was. 

Your grin is exchanged with a frown of pleasure when Jungkook traces his fingers on the fabric of your thong. He’s making you work for it and frankly, you don’t mind. 

The pad of his fingers press down on your clit, making your breath hitch by the sensation. You feel everything yet nothing and it makes your body buck into his hand. Jungkook smirks by the sudden action, continuing to tease you with his fingers until you’ll plead. 

The touching continues, a few presses once in a while making you hiss. He hasn’t dared to move beneath the fabric and your patience is running on a thin thread. 

Without thinking further, you grab ahold of his wrist. You’re done with his teasing. It’s unfair that he’s here, taking his time with you when you’ve both been longing for this exact moment. 

‘’Jeon Jungkook.’’ He grins at the use of his full name and you want to throw a fit. 

‘’I’ll stop, I promise.’’ He pecks your lips, and considering you trust him, you let go of his wrist. 

Some things truly never change. 

He keeps his word, removing the fabric instead of teasing you further. The cool air hits your core, making you shudder before Jungkook can continue. His palm keeps itself rested on your thigh, while his tattooed hand comes in contact with your slit. 

The first few strokes are slow, collecting some of your arousal and spreading it all over. Jungkook’s mouth is agape, eyes heavy as he watches your exposed heat and his fingers decorating it with slow movements. 

‘’Fuck, baby.’’ Jungkook breathes out, stunned to have you like this. 

The nickname causes your cheeks to heat up, flustered by such. 

No warnings, and Jungkook inserts both fingers slowly, stretching you with ease. The feeling causes you to moan, as you’re too entranced by the pleasure. 

There’s something about the way Jungkook works with his fingers that almost sends you into orbit. The way he gently curls them, making them pet on your g-spot whenever he manages to get his fingers all the way inside. The way his thumb traces circles on your clit, increasing the feelings evoking. 

When you begin to feel overwhelmed, you grab onto Jungkook’s forearm, pressing down. Jungkook is even more determined to make you come, maintaining the same pace. 

You feel the familiar pit in your stomach, forming as time passes. Although, Jungkook has a lot more on his sleeve than just touching you. 

Being too focused on the thrill of the situation, you don’t notice Jungkook crouching down. It’s first when he replaces his thumb with his tongue that you’re aware of the what he’s doing. Your legs are shaking beside him, feeling yourself get much closer and Jungkook wants nothing more than to taste you. 

To his luck, your body shudders followed by a high pitched moan as you finish. Jungkook pecks your clit, before moving upwards to face you. Your breathing is uneven, your whole body warm and you’re smiling softly at him.  

When Jungkook pecks your lips, you take him by surprise, grabbing onto his cock through the material. He groans against your lips, astonished by your bold move. You don’t stop, pumping him while your tongues consume one another. 

Jungkook is already hard. He’s been ever since you laid beneath him, spreading your legs out for him. Even though Jungkook is enjoying your touch, he’s impatient. 

‘’Stay here.’’ Before you can even question anything, Jungkook runs out directly to his room. He quickly returns, with a condom in hand. When he’s about to lay down, you push both of his shoulders, making him land in an upright position. 

You straddle him, wrapping both arms around his neck. ‘’Come on big boy, show me what you got.’’ Maybe you’re saying this because you know Jungkook will absolutely fall into your trap and amaze you. 

‘’I’ll show you.’’ His gaze is intense, yet he’s already fiddling with his pants, desperate to get them off. You aren’t exactly helping, grinding down on the material of his pants, which gets him distracted. 

‘’Y/N, please.’’ You’re suppressing a smile, commanding either way and lifting your hips to help him get his pants off quicker. You aren’t exactly better yourself, wanting nothing more than for Jungkook to fuck you. 

Jungkook is quick on his feet, rolling the condom with ease before gently pressing into you. Your knees sink further down, inviting more of him in and the unfamiliar stretch feels pleasant. When your knees have sunk fully down, you take a moment to adapt. 

‘’Shit.’’ Jungkook moans, mind spinning at how nicely you wrap around him. 

You start bucking your hips, a hiss leaving your mouth as you ride him tenderly. 

‘’Fucking hell,’’ Jungkook curses, his eyes now roaming your body and how smoothly you move above him. He takes the chance of grabbing your ass tightly, making you jerk your hips out of the sudden control Jungkook is regaining. 

His eyes avert downwards, watching how your bodies dissolve and how he disappears inside of you. 

The movement of your hips slow down, your body still processing your orgasm from earlier which had somewhat made you exhausted. 

Jungkook helps you, grabbing onto your hips, leaving you to sit still while he bucks his hips at a much faster pace. Your moans are clogged, too stunned to process the feeling of his cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly. 

‘’Fuck—’’ You breathe out, clutching yourself onto Jungkook who isn’t slowing down. He’s surely showing you everything he’s got and you’re already close. 

With no warning, you tense above him, your orgasm washing over you, filling your body with warmth. Jungkook follows soon after, giving one last thrust as he moans against your neck. 

The both of you stay put, trying to regulate your breathing. 

‘’Was that good enough for you?’’ Jungkook asks between pants and you slap him lightly on the shoulder, because he knows it was better than good enough. 

‘’Oh my god! Jungkook hurry!’’ You scream excitedly, still holding onto So-ah who’s standing on two feet, ready to take her first step. 

‘’Don’t let her walk!’’ Jungkook screams from the bathroom, finishing up his shower after his workout from earlier. You roll your eyes, holding tightly onto So-ah who’s trying to move out of your grasp to walk. 

Jungkook runs out quickly not long after, in only a towel because moments like these are rare and there’s no way he’s about to miss out on his daughter walking for the first time. 

‘’Okay, come here So-ah.’’ Jungkook kneels, spreading his arms open for his daughter and she screams softly, wobbling towards her dad but managing two steps in before Jungkook has to sweep her in. 

You clap excitedly at So-ah having taken her first step and you catch Jungkook’s eyes watering. 

‘’So-ah, you did it.’’ Jungkook kisses her on the cheek. 

Moments like these are only the beginning for the three of you, and you’re thrilled. 

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© jjkeverlast 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost any of my works]

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #dilf jungkook #dilf smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook one shot #jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #bts jungkook smut #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fic #bts smut

[dumplingsfordays]

the phone call

pairing - Megumi x fem!reader

genre - smut

summary - you call Megumi one night in hopes of changing your relationship from being best friends to lovers and it ends very unexpectedly.

cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), mutual masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), bffs to lovers, reader has female genitalia, swearing, timeskip to all characters 18+, one (1) mention of voyeurism + hair pulling + tummy bulge

note - back (sorta?) from my hiatus but I won't post content as frequently. sorry to all you beautiful people who submitted asks 😭😭 I'll make sure to do those fics asap b/c y'all are honestly lovely and overall really respectful and I appreciate it! thank you sm for being patient w/ little old me <33

art credit!

and as always, thank you for reading :))

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Quiet sighs escaped Megumi's lips in tandem with the soft breeze outside, whistling against the glass windowpanes. Moonlight drifted across his fair cheek like a silvery veil, making his pale skin glow slightly, and his long eyelashes, a trait that wasn't his favorite but one that almost every girl constantly pointed out with jealousy, fluttered when they met the edge of the light. And then, in the peaceful summer night-

Bzzt. Bzzt.

The raven-haired man sat up in his bed with sudden urgency, hand moving quickly to his phone on the nightstand and picking up.

"Hey, 'Mimi," your sleepy, half-awake voice came from the speaker. "Sorry to bother you but it's kinda important."

Upon hearing your voice, he relaxes - he lays back down and stares at the blank, white ceiling. "Yeah?"

"Uhm, I just wanted to talk to you about something..."

God, your sleep-laced voice was so gentle, sweet, alluring, even. He couldn't help but sneak a hand towards his abdomen to lay it on his stomach.

"Hey, 'Mimi, you there?" You ask all of a sudden.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm listening, don't worry."

You must be at your desk working, then, he thought, since you're up this late. Wait, no -- he heard the shuffling of bedsheets or something similar a moment ago. That was you, right? Were you also in bed? Did you also have the ghost of a smile dancing on your lips? Was your hand also laid down on your abdomen? Was it slowly creeping further and further down, until-

He shakes his head, rousing himself from his thoughts.

God, Megumi, what the hell are you thinking? They're your best friend, nobody thinks about their best friend getting off!

...Well, something about that scene was... arousing, almost, to him. The mere thought of you, laying on silk bedsheets and rubbing your clit to his voice, sent a shiver up his spine and he snaked his hand under his boxers. Well, guess he was doing this.

"So, um..." you continued, sighing, "I was thinking. I know that it's probably too late into the night to even be discussing this, but..."

"Yeah?"

He lets out a small grunt afterwards as his fingers come into contact with the sensitive skin of the tip of his semi-erect length.

"...are you okay, 'Mimi? Are you working out or something?"

"Ah, no, I'm just..."

Just, you know, casually touching myself to the sound of your voice. Nothing wrong with that at all. There's definitely nothing wrong with jacking off to your best friend's voice.

"Just, um. Moving my, uh..." His eyes glance around the room and lock onto the bedside table. "My table."

There's a small lilt to your voice as you laugh softly and clear your throat before speaking, and Megumi swears that he just got lightheaded from the rush of blood to his nether region.

"Okay... I was just thinking about, well... this. Our friendship."

He tries not to sound too strained and breathy when he replies, starting to slowly move his fist up and down his leaking cock. "What about it?"

"Well, I think that, um.. you're a really nice person. And I really like you. And recently, I was thinking about what it would be like if we, um..."

You pause, biting your lip. Should you really finish your sentence? What if he takes it the wrong way?

"You can say it. I won't judge, y/n."

"Thank you..." you laugh briefly and breathlessly, fidgeting with the skin on your torso. His words were innocent, but it was the tone in which he was speaking that made your thighs twitch slightly and your mouth dry up. Christ, Megumi always made you feel things that you knew you shouldn't be feeling towards a friend who probably only liked you as one. "I, well... I was thinking that it would be nice if we hung out at some point. Maybe, like... go out on a date, or something... I understand if you don't like me in that way, or if you're too sleepy to decide yet, but I just wanted to put that out there..."

His eyes widen a bit as he hears the word "date", and he subconsciously tightens his grip around himself, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. So you were interested in him, too.

"I'd... I'd love to."

He forces down a quiet groan as he hears the pitch of your voice rise slightly in excitement. Unbeknownst to him, your hand slides down your lower abdomen, gliding across your upper thigh.

"R-really? You're not kidding or anything, right? I mean, like... please don't worry about making me feel good about myself or anything, just..."

You hear him laugh softly on the other end, which makes that spot between your legs throb even more intensely.

"Of course," Megumi replies, trying to sound as put-together as he can. "I won't lie to you about stuff like that."

Smiling, you sigh in relief and your hand comes into contact with your inner thigh. After a brief pause, he speaks up again, his voice a little deeper.

"So.. anything fun happen recently in your life? Any new books you've read, or interesting gossip you've heard?"

Your head tilts to the side as a scenario pops into your head at his words. Him, laying next to you, whispering into your ear as his fingers caress your--

"Nope..." you laugh, a little shakily due to the intrusive thought. "But there was this one thi--"

He makes a quiet noise of pleasure and you choke, your fingers finally touching your slick cunny and rubbing it gently.

"...M-Mimi, did you... are you...?"

"Christ, I'm sorry, I-- fuck. I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't-- God, I..." he sighs, regret clear in his tone as he apologizes. "You probably think I'm some creep or something now. Feel free to cancel the date, I don't deserve it anyway after all this."

You swallow and you feel your face redden in embarrassment before answering, whispering.

"Actually, I... I, um, I'm not mad. I-I'm doing the same."

"What?"

His reply is instantaneous, his voice a mix of nervousness, shock, surprise, with the undeniable tinge of arousal. You were going to be the death of him someday.

"I-I'm doing the same. I know it's weird, I..." you trail off, sighing. "I'm sorry too."

"Can we..."

Megumi's trembling all over now, his cock unfathomably hard and standing up at attention in his fist, which begins to pump up and down a little more rapidly. You can hear it very faintly from your phone and you practically gush at the sound.

"...can we, um... keep doing this? And talking? I just... I think that since you're interested in me and I in you, we can satisfy our urges, I guess..."

"Please," you shiver, voice getting softer and more desperate as he talks.

"Fu-uck..." he groans out, biting his lip and looking down at himself. He decides to finally remove his boxers and strokes himself under the blanket, leaning into his phone's microphone as he pants softly.

You, in your own bed, whimper at the expletive -- you knew his voice was attractive, but this? Him swearing, and in that rough yet pleading tone, too, made you unimaginably wet.

"Can you... can you describe it? Please?" you choke out, toes curling as your fingers press against your clit slightly.

You hear him groan at your words again before he replies.

"I-It's standing up real tall 'n warm, sweetheart... it's fucking throbbing, all for you... God, I just wanna bend you over and... shit... just shove my cock into your tight pussy..."

You moan quietly as you imagine the absolute filth of the scenario, how deep his thick cock'll reach inside you... he'll probably be thrusting into you so hard that people on the street will hear the rhythmic slaps of skin on skin from the window of your bedroom all the way up on the fifth floor. And, oh, God, what if he grabs your hair and pulls on it, twisting your back and pulling his face closer to yours to meet you in an intense kiss, teeth clacking and tongues intertwining in this passionate dance for control?

"You're gonna feel so good around me, baby... maybe clench as I play with your clit and press my hand to your stomach to feel that little dent of my cock... you're gonna feel so fucking warm and wet around me..." Megumi groans loudly as his hand does a particularly satisfying stroke around his length, smearing slightly sticky precum in his fist. "Christ, I can already imagine it... I'm so fucking close..."

"Me too," you cry out, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive skin and thighs quivering from the electrifying pleasure. "I'll feel so good, 'Mimi, so full..."

His fist travels up to his tip, continuing the up-and-down motion as he moans shakily. "y/n-- I-I'm gonna-- fuck, think I'm gonna come--"

You whimper in reply, toes curling and forearm flexing. At long last, that wave of heat crashes down on you both, him groaning shamelessly as thick cum spurts from the red tip and onto his fist, and you gasping for air, moaning as you reach your respective peaks. Your body trembles as you're thrown around mercilessly by your orgasm and he can tell very clearly by your voice -- it's high-pitched, desperate, and borderline wanton.

As you both calm down from your highs, the movements of your hands and arms gradually slowing down, you giggle breathlessly.

"This was... ah, certainly something..."

You hear his voice, deep and comforting as he chuckles, through your phone speaker.

"Indeed it was."

"...But we're still going on that date, right?"

Megumi laughs. "Obviously."

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #megumi fushigiro #fushiguro x reader #jjk fushiguro #smut #holy shit I literally did not watch s2 because I'm so busy but god damn I'm still simping #this was a pretty short one but idrc sorry ;-;

[domjaehyun]

SURVIVING NO NUT NOVEMBER (L.MK, L.DH)

MEMBERS. mark lee x fem!reader x lee haechan

GENRE. smut…that’s it… some humor

WORD COUNT. 28.8k (i’m not apologizing and you can’t make me)

CONTENTS. weed consumption, haechan favoritism (it’s me. what did you expect), explicit smut (slightest of dubcon, chasing kink (? y’all idk), quite a bit of edging/orgasm denial (giving), dry humping, handjobs, blowjobs, cunnilingus, finger sucking, bit of spit kink, unprotected sex, creampie, double penetration, anal, rimming (receiving), overstimulation (receiving), praise kink, some slight degradation, bratty switch!reader, bratty switch!haechan, needy switch!mark, haechan really likes calling you “puppy,” i think that’s it)

NOTES. hi :3 thank you to my love @ncteez​ (hon) for beta reading this for me! i’m on my mark & haechan monster cock agenda thank you very much :)

PLAYLIST. video games - sun // seduce - russ // pth - emanuel

Sunday, November 1st. 

“As usual, I think you’re full of it.” Lia sizes up Haechan, her scrutinizing stare so chilling that it affects you as an innocent bystander simply sitting next to Haechan.

“I’m not,” Haechan fiercely defends himself, jabbing his thumb into his chest emphatically. “I totally did take three edibles and, yes, I did see God! She was not pleased with me,” Haechan finishes in a mumble, scratching the back of his neck anxiously.

“What makes you think you saw God and not, like, her secretary angel or something?” Jaemin asks with a brow raised, and Haechan grimaces.

“What, am I not important or special enough to meet Miss God herself? I got some divine being several rungs down the holy corporate ladder?” Haechan counters, and the silence that falls over your table is deafening. “Wow.”

“Sorry,” Yeji says, shrugging. “It’s not personal.”

“Yeah, well, it sure feels personal,” Haechan grouches. Turning to you, he shakes your arm and whines loudly, saying, “You think I’m important and special, right?”

You look at his plate of food with scheming eyes. “Give me some of your fries and I’ll agree with you.”

“Agree with me and I’ll give you some of my fries,” he says, turning it back on you, and you pause to think. As if to make his deal even more appealing, Haechan holds up a forkful of fries, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Screw you guys, Haechan is definitely important and special enough to meet God after tripping too hard on edibles.” you say, scowling at every member sitting at the table for good measure. You look at Haechan, waiting for his approval, and he nods with a pleased smile, placing his hand under the fork to catch anything that might fall.

“Say ‘ah,’” Haechan coos, bringing the forkful to your mouth. You roll your eyes in amusement but oblige, letting Haechan feed you the fries. 

“Thank you,” you say with a smile, which he returns. 

“You’re welcome, baby,” he replies casually, watching in satisfaction out of the corner of his eye as you stiffen in surprise, your mind buffering for several moments before it starts working again. He chuckles and nudges you with his knee under the table secretly before resuming his eating. 

“If you two are finished,” Lia says pointedly, and your cheeks warm as you look at her sheepishly. “I was going to say that in honor of November starting today, there’s a challenge I wanna share.”

“Share, please,” you say quickly, eager to switch the attention to someone else. 

“It’s called November, in which I try to make it through every day of November,” she announces proudly, and you point an accusing finger across the table at her.

“You stole that off of Twitter!” you exclaim, and she rolls her eyes.

“I didn’t say it was my challenge,” she replies, and you narrow your eyes suspiciously. 

“I’m onto you.” 

“Okay,” Lia says, dismissive yet amused. 

“I think we should try a monthly challenge,” Yeji suggests. “There’s No Shave November, National Novel Writing Month, No Nut November—”

“Ha!” Jaemin snorts in amusement. “Some of us couldn’t handle No Nut November.” He casts Haechan a side look which is not unnoticed.

Haechan huffs. “Why are you looking at me? I can totally do No Nut November.”

“Sure, you can,” you say, patting his hand comfortingly. 

“Why do you sound like you don’t believe me?” Haechan frowns. 

“Probably because I don’t,” you reply simply, and Jeno snickers into his food.

“You know what?” Jeno puts his fork down and rubs his hands together. “If you can make it through No Nut November, I will give you my entire weed stash.”

Haechan’s brows raise in surprise. “Damn. You really don’t think I can do it.”

“Nope.” Jeno replies, and Haechan huffs.

“You’re on—but I get to pick a buddy,” he proposes, and Jeno shrugs. 

“Sure. I don’t think anyone at this table is willing to go in on that challenge, though.”

When everyone at the table murmurs some sort of agreement, Haechan’s face lights up, visibly getting an idea, and he pulls his phone out, tapping it a couple of times before setting it on the table. 

“Hello?” Mark’s whispering voice comes in through the speaker, and you and Jaemin share a skeptical look.

“Mark?” Lia laughs, begrudgingly falling silent when Haechan shushes her.

“Mark, do you wanna do No Nut November with me this month?” Haechan asks hopefully.

“Hell, no,” Mark’s reply comes out clear as day, making everyone but Haechan stifle a laugh. 

“Aw, come on! Jeno’s gonna give us his entire weed stash if we do it,” Haechan coaxes in a sing-song voice. 

“No way,” Mark whispers back. Several moments pass, everyone at the table growing antsy, until Mark speaks again. “Fine. I’m in.”

“Great!” Haechan says all too loudly. “We’re gonna rock this challenge.”

“Yeah, okay,” Mark replies distractedly. “I gotta go now—I’m in class.”

“Oh, that’s why you were whispering—”

“Whispering, yeah. See you later, dude.” Mark murmurs hurriedly before the phone beeps to signal the end of the call.

“Well, that settles it,” Haechan says happily. “Jeno, get ready to kiss your stash of weed goodbye.”

“Oh, please,” Jaemin snorts derisively, “I bet you’ll be caving on day three.”

“Nope,” Haechan retorts, sticking out his tongue for good measure. “Nothing will fuck with me this month. As a matter of fact—”

“Haechan, don’t you have class, like, right now?” you cut him off, and he looks at the time, his eyes widening. 

Stuffing forkfuls of food in his mouth, Haechan stands up from the table and waves goodbye before rushing off with his plate.

There’s a silence that passes before Lia speaks. “So I feel like it goes without saying that we, as their closest friends, legally have to fuck with them all of November.” 

“‘We?’” Jeno raises his eyebrows in surprise and shakes his head. “I’m not turning them on.”

“Neither am I,” Jaemin says through his mouthful of sandwich. “Unless everyone gets real cool about a lot of things.”

“That also should have gone without saying, geniuses.” Lia rolls her eyes, and Jeno furrows his brows, narrowing his eyes before putting another forkful of ramen in his mouth and chewing. Turning to look at you, Lia continues, “I thought it was obvious that we’d collectively be fucking with them through one person.”

You slowly stop chewing. “Why are you looking at me?” You look at each of your friends. “Why are all of you looking at me?”

“You’re the only one with a weird enough relationship with them where it’d be normal for you to flirt with each other,” Yeji explains. 

“Our relationship isn’t weird,” you say defensively, blanching at the unimpressed look Jaemin shoots you.

“Remember when you first met Haechan and he practically coughed up a lung trying to do that huge bong hit to impress you?” Jaemin reminds you, and you snicker as you think back.

“Yeah, that was funny,” you chuckle, and Lia sits forward.

“Or one of the first times we all hung out and watched the guys play video games and Mark kept dying because he was too busy looking at you?” she recalls, and you purse your lips.

“Okay, maybe it’s a little different from your average friendship,” you mumble reluctantly.

Jeno swallows his mouthful of noodles and points at you with his fork. “Didn’t Haechan call you ‘baby’ earlier?”

“Yeah, and Mark called you ‘babe’ the other day.” Yeji contributes, and you sigh, rubbing your temples. 

“I mean, that was by accident, but I think I get it—” 

“Haechan literally offered you food off of his fork today—” 

“I get it!”

“Wait, that happened?” Lia asks, baffled, and Jeno nods.

“Yeah, he even said ‘open up’ when he put the food in her mouth.”

“Y’all.” You’re losing your patience.

“She actually took—wait, you actually took the food?” Yeji exclaims, and you bang the table with your hand to get their attention.

“I think,” you say slowly, “that I have heard enough about my questionable friendships with Mark and Haechan.” You look at Lia, who’s got the beginnings of a smirk on her lips. “What do I do?”

“Do anything and everything to get them to break during November.” Lia shrugs as if it was obvious.

“What if I can’t get them to cave?” You frown, doubtful of your abilities, and Jaemin waves a hand dismissively.

“That’s okay. As long as they experience mental turmoil and anguish, I’m satisfied.”

“Yeah, blue-ball them as hard as you can.” Jeno chimes in, and you look at each of your friends with a concerned expression.

“What kind of friend group is this?” you mumble, aghast, and Yeji snickers, leaning across the table to pat your hand reassuringly.

“One that enjoys chaos and mischief,” she answers, and you nod slowly.

“That is what I thought I signed up for.” 

“Anyway, you’ll be good at this; I feel like you already know how to flirt with them,” Yeji assures you, and you purse your lips. 

“I do,” you agree. “I’ll make it happen.”

“That’s my girl!” Lia cheers, and you snicker.

“This should be fun.”

 Thursday, November 5th.

“Hey!” Jeno greets you after he opens the door.

“Hi, hi,” you chirp as you enter the apartment and remove your shoes by the door. Jeno shuts the door behind you and takes your bag from your arm before throwing an arm over your shoulder and leading you into the living room. “Hey, guys!” 

Mark barely looks up from his laptop to wave at you, doing a double take before hurriedly sitting up straight and running a hand through his hair.

“Hey!” Mark sounds mildly panicked, looking over your shoulder at Jeno with a pointed stare. “Jeno didn’t tell us you were coming.”

“Sorry,” you and Jeno say, looking at each other. “Must have forgotten.” Jeno finishes with a shrug.

“It’s, uh, no problem, I’m just gonna grab something from my room.” Mark says as casually as possible, standing up and speed walking down the hall.

“That went well,” you murmur, amused, and Jeno nods with his eyes crinkled in delight. “I didn’t even flirt yet.”

Haechan comes into the room from around the corner in the hallway, immersed in something on his phone. “Someone dare me to eat that whole can of spray cheese in the fridge.” 

“I dare you,” you snicker. Haechan’s head snaps up to look at you in bewilderment, eyes comically wide as he lets out an amusingly high-pitched screech. 

“You—when did you—who invited—I mean, not that you can’t come over, but—Jeno didn’t say—” Haechan splutters as you watch him with raised eyebrows before stopping short and standing up straighter. “I wasn’t really gonna eat all the spray cheese, by the way,” Haechan laughs awkwardly. 

“Shame,” you muse, looking at him with a wry smile. “Would’ve been really hot, I think.”

Haechan pauses, regarding you skeptically. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum with a nod. “It’d be like chugging a beer, but harder, y’know? Pretty impressive.”

“I mean, I can still do it—” Haechan says quickly, pointing at the kitchen as he walks towards it, and Jeno snorts from beside you.

“Haechan?” you call.

“Yeah?”

“I’m kidding.” 

“Oh,” he mumbles. 

“Yeah,” you say, nodding as you walk up to him. You pat his chest gently and smile at him. “I’m not really into kissing dudes who taste like spray cheese.”

“Oh, that’s fair—wait a minute.” Haechan freezes, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” You look right back at him with a playfully challenging expression, and the awkwardness fades away from him almost immediately as his lips curl into a smirk.

“So you think about kissing me?”

“Maybe.” Smiling secretively, you watch as his gaze drifts down to your lips. You give him a moment to recover and look back up at you but his gaze doesn’t waver, so you clear your throat pointedly. “Are you done thinking about kissing me?”

“No, gimme another minute.” Haechan breathes out, and you laugh, pushing him back gently.

“I came here to study, not flirt,” you say, lying through your teeth. He grins, wiggling his brows as he walks backwards towards the kitchen.

“You can multitask.”

“Haechan, go eat your spray cheese or something.” You roll your eyes in amusement and turn back to Jeno, reaching out for your bag. He hands it to you and footsteps sound out from down the hall, making you both turn your heads towards the noise.

Mark comes back into the living room wearing a different outfit entirely and with his hair looking considerably better, as if he’d frantically fixed it before returning.

You and Jeno share an amused look as secretly as possible as Mark sits back down in his spot on the couch, resuming his work on his laptop as if nothing’s changed. You walk over to where he sits and point at the spot next to him. 

“Can I sit here?”

“Uh—yeah, sure,” Mark mumbles in mild surprise, scooting over and pushing his stuff over on the coffee table to make room for you.

“Thank you, Mark,” you say with a sweet smile, and he nods, eyeing you as you sit right next to him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows nervously, and you barely hide your amused chuckle. 

Haechan comes out of the kitchen with a box of Pocky sticks, hesitating as he spots you sitting next to Mark. You pretend not to notice him or the way he narrows his eyes, instead focusing on pulling your laptop out of your bag. 

You keep pretending to be immersed in turning on your laptop as Mark looks up at Haechan, the two of them exchanging an unreadable look in your peripheral vision before Mark leans back on the couch, casually placing his arm behind you on the cushion as if resting on your shoulders. 

You fight down the smirk that threatens to appear on your face as Haechan audibly huffs and walks over to you both, plopping down next to you unceremoniously.

“Hi,” Haechan says with a smile, and you finally turn to look at him as you lean back to rest against Mark’s arm. 

“Hi,” you reply, matching his expression, and Jeno clears his throat awkwardly, apparently no longer wanting to watch you three in silence.

“I’m gonna go grab my stuff and wake up Jaemin.” Jeno informs you three, and you all give some sort of acknowledgement as he heads out of the room. As he walks away, he shoots you a knowing look and grins before disappearing down the hall for what you know to be quite a while—enough time to mess with Haechan and Mark.

“It’s hot in here,” you complain, and Mark looks at you sympathetically.

“Yeah, our heating is stuck in the on setting,” Mark mumbles, and you frown, nodding in understanding.

You already knew that. Jeno told you before you came over, which is why you have something up your sleeve.

“Can one of you help me for a second? Actually both of you.” You sit forward slightly and both of them mirror you, looking at each other briefly before back at you. “I wanna take my hoodie off.” You cross your arms to grab the bottom of it, starting to pull it up and over your head. “Hold my shirt down so I don’t flash you.”

“I mean, I’m not opposed—”

“Haechan, just do it,” you huff, and he sighs dramatically before he and Mark hold the bottom of your undershirt down and you pull your hoodie off, revealing your casual tank top underneath. “Thank you!”

“No problem,” Mark mumbles, struggling to hide the way his eyes are drinking in the sight of your now exposed skin. Haechan, however, experiences not even a modicum of shame as he eyes you. You smile before yawning and stretching your arms over your head, letting out a small moan of relief that makes both of them stiffen and peek at you out of the corner of their eye.

You may have felt a little ridiculous when you hammed up the moan, but the response is so rewarding that you no longer regret it.

“You, uh, want some?” Haechan mumbles awkwardly, practically shoving the box of Pocky in your face.

“Sure,” you reply easily, and some of the confidence returns to his demeanor as he takes one out and puts the end between his lips. “You’re kidding.”

He shakes his head, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

You roll your eyes in amusement, not bothering to hide your smile as you lean closer and pinch the chocolate-covered end of the stick, breaking it off and biting it with a teasing grin.

Mark chuckles in amusement as Haechan glares at you petulantly, sitting back against the couch in a huff. 

“Aw, don’t be upset, Haechan.” You cup his chin and mirror his frown. “Even though you’re cute when you pout.”

“I am?” he asks with a small amused smile, and you nod.

“You are.”

Mark clears his throat pointedly from beside you, carrying on with working on something on his laptop, and you shift your attention to him as he continues to attempt to conceal his jealousy.

“Mark, you’re cute, too,” you assure him with a small laugh.

He looks over at you, feigning nonchalance, and chuckles dismissively.

“I’m not cute, dude.”

“You’re right,” you muse, leaning against him for a moment as you think. “How about ‘handsome?’”

“Handsome, uh—handsome works,” Mark agrees, a small smile on his lips. 

“Okay, handsome.”

“What about me?” Haechan complains, waving his arms in what looks suspiciously like the beginnings of a temper tantrum.

“She already called you cute,” Mark mumbles under his breath.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t get called ‘handsome.’” Haechan bites back.

“You’re acting like a spoiled child.”

“That’s rich coming from Mr. ‘I’m Going to Clear My Throat for Attention.’”

“That’s a stupid comeback and you know it.”

“Guys.” You look between them with growing amusement.

“What’s stupid is the fact that you won’t ask for the attention you clearly want.”

“Haechan!” You look at him in surprise.

“I’d rather that than whine and stomp my feet like an immature brat.” Mark counters, and your eyes widen even more.

“Mark!”

“I will piss in your bed.” Haechan threatens, and you decide the fighting has gone on for long enough. 

“You know what? I’m going home,” you sigh, and both their heads snap to look at you.

“Why?” Haechan asks, clearly objecting.

“You just got here!” Mark exclaims.

You gesture between the two of them. “Your fighting is making me uncomfortable.” You frown.

“We’ll stop,” Mark assures you, and Haechan nods in agreement.

You look at both of them skeptically before sighing. “Fine.”

You three fall into silence as Mark works, you pretend to work, and Haechan just stares at his phone while munching idly on Pocky sticks.

You decide to break the silence and mess with them a little bit.

“You know, I have a confession,” you say, not looking at either of them. “It was actually kind of hot to have two guys fighting over me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Haechan muses, locking his phone and leaning forward slightly to see you better. Wetting his bottom lip with his tongue, he watches you with a considerably more intense gaze than earlier.

Mark eyes you curiously before he slowly closes his laptop and turns fully to look at you.

“Mhm,” you murmur, leaning back against the couch cushions and looking between the both of them. “Before you two started going for each other’s jugulars, I mean,” you explain. “I kinda like it when you two pay attention to me at the same time.” You shrug and Mark chuckles.

“Careful, or we’ll think you’re suggesting a threesome or something.” Mark warns you. You raise your eyebrows.

“And if I said I am?” Your question makes him and Haechan freeze, the two of them looking at each other before looking back at you.

“I’d say to be careful before you bite off more than you can chew.” Haechan says slowly, his gaze shifting into something more suggestive, more intriguing.

“I can handle myself.” You smile innocently, and Haechan snickers.

“You can handle both of us?” Mark asks, eyebrows raised skeptically as he regards you. There’s an unusual amount of confidence in his voice, but you can’t honestly say that you dislike it.

“I can multitask.” You echo Haechan’s words from earlier, and Haechan chuckles, resting his hand on your knee.

“I think this is more than you’re expecting,” he says, eyes scanning your face carefully—for what, you don’t know. Seemingly finding what he’s looking for, he slips his hand up higher on your leg, fingers running along one of the rips in your jeans.

“Way more,” Mark agrees, and there goes that damn cocky undertone again, riling you up even more than you already are.

“It’s a shame you guys are doing that No Nut November thing,” you sigh, looking at both of them in turn. 

There’s a tense silence for a moment, and Mark and Haechan appear to be having a wordless exchange. 

“Why is that?” Haechan asks, his voice lower and, to your surprise, far more serious than you’d expect.

“Haechan, why do you think?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Dude, you are such a tease,” Mark laughs in surprise, and you roll your eyes.

“Mark, if I very seriously asked you to fuck me right now, do you think you’d be able to stop calling me ‘dude?’” you ask, looking Mark dead in the eyes.

“Oh, shit,” Mark mumbles, eyes wide as he looks away, back to behaving more like the less forward Mark you’re used to. You bite back a laugh and look from him to Haechan, who’s staring at fingers as they play with the strings in the stylistic rips in your jeans.

“Are you done staring at the little bit of skin you can see through the holes in my jeans?” you ask with a teasing lilt, and Haechan manages to tear his gaze away from said skin and look you in the eyes.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “It makes me feel like a Victorian man seeing a goddamn ankle,” Haechan mutters under his breath, and you snicker, leaning in closer.

“If you want, I’ll let you see more than just an ankle.” you hum, and Haechan blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Where is all of this coming from?” He’s quick to ask, baffled, and you shrug nonchalantly.

“I’m feeling…needy,” you sigh, tipping your head back onto the couch with a huff, and Mark splutters in surprise.

“Needy how?” He looks up at Haechan for a moment before cautiously draping his arm around you like he had earlier, leaning into the couch so your sides are pressed against each other. Haechan mirrors his position but uses one hand to trail up and down your thigh, his eyes on you as they wait for you to say more.

“Needy like…I need to be touched.” you say, frowning, and Mark inhales sharply, studying your face.

“How do you want us to touch you?” Mark asks, but, once again, his tone is entirely different. Instead of hesitant and cautious, Mark sounds teasing and confident once more, and the shift is entirely welcome and incredibly exciting.

“I want you to do whatever you want,” you reply sincerely, and Mark’s lips quirk up into a budding grin as he looks past you to Haechan, who’s already looking at him with his brows raised. They exchange several looks in silence and you lose your patience and huff loudly, regaining their attention once more. “Stop talking secretly!” you complain, and Haechan snickers fondly, tucking a finger under your chin and turning you to look at him.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, smiling at you. “We were just figuring out what we’re gonna do to you.” His words ignite a fire in you, arousal stirring in the pit of your stomach as Mark’s hand comes to rest on your upper thigh. You sneak a peek at both of their laps, noting with satisfaction that there’s definitely something straining against the front of their pants.

They’re so easy to rile up that it’s almost laughable, really, but you suppress your amusement, saving it for later.

“Did you figure it out yet? I’m not a patient girl, you know.” you say as you place a hand on their laps, dangerously close to the bulges in their pants.

Mark closes his eyes and exhales slowly, while Haechan pushes his hips up, urging your hand to slip down towards his clothed erection. You oblige and rest your hand on top of where he wants you, feeling the side of his length pressing against his sweats.

“We’re gonna—” Mark starts, but Jaemin shuffles into the room and effectively silences Mark. Jeno appears behind Jaemin, shooting you an apologetic glance before following him into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Jaemin,” you greet, amused as he emerges from the kitchen with a bag of chips, sleepy eyes regarding you before he smiles and lifts the bag of chips in lieu of a wave as he approaches the couch.

You remove your hands from Haechan and Mark (even though he seems not to notice your hand placement) and smile up at Jaemin innocently as Mark and Haechan surreptitiously conceal their laps. Jaemin extends his hand holding the chips to you in a silent offering, and you beam at him and reach into the bag, pulling out a couple of chips.

“Was I interrupting something?” Jaemin asks in a drowsy voice, looking between you suspiciously, Mark, and Haechan, the latter two sitting stiffly with their laps covered. 

“Well—” Haechan starts, but you stuff a chip in his mouth to shut him up.

“Nope.” You shake your head and smile innocently. Jaemin smiles lazily and plops down on the couch next to Haechan with a sigh of relief. You and Jeno exchange subtle looks before you pat Mark’s and Haechan’s thighs twice and stand up. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.”

As you pass by Jeno and head towards the bathroom, you hear Jeno say something about forgetting his stuff in his room and then the sound of footsteps trails after you.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno loudly whispers to you, and you stop in the middle of the hallway, turning to face him.

“What even happened?” you question, mildly amused at the unfortunate timing of the situation.

“Jaemin got hungry and was all like, ‘I don’t care about the bet right now, I want chips,’” Jeno explains with a roll of his eyes.

“I can’t blame him. These chips are good,” you mumble as you put the rest of the chips in your hand in your mouth.

“Did he come in way too early?” Jeno asks worriedly, and you frown pensively as you think back.

“Yeah,” you admit, Jeno sighing sadly. “Mark was just about to tell me what they were gonna do to me.”

“Damn,” he mumbles. “Well, I noticed they got hard! So job well done.” He claps your shoulder and you flinch. “Sorry; too hard?”

“Too hard.” You rub your shoulder with a wince. “Hey, Jeno?”

“Hm?”

“Can I borrow your laptop charger? I forgot mine at home.”

“Sure,” he agrees readily. “Hey, maybe you can ask one of them for help plugging it in,” he suggests with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

You look at him with a blank expression. “Jeno?”

“Yeah?”

“The charger.” 

“…Right.”

 Thursday, November 12th. 

you: maaaark are you alive

mark: i’m alive haha i’m in class

mark: what’s up?

you: i miss you :( 

mark: really?

mark: cute

you: when does your class end?

mark: 2:15

mark: wanna hang out after?

you: y e s i’ll meet you at the shuttle?

mark: you got it

mark: see you in a bit

“Mark,” you sigh dramatically, leaning against him in the shuttle bus’s seat. “Wanna smoke when we get back to your place?” You wiggle your eyebrows encouragingly. 

Mark snickers, nudging you away from him with his shoulder. “Yeah, but I’m running out of weed, so I might have to match you next time,” he answers and you wave him off.

“I got it,” you assure him.

“Oh, dope—then sure,” he agrees with a little nod and you smile widely at him before resting your head on his shoulder. He stiffens slightly and you bite back a laugh, craning your head to look up at him.

“Mark, you’re blushing.” you point out, gently touching his reddened cheek, and he shifts in his seat, pushing your cheek with two fingers so you’re looking away from him.

“Shut up,” he mumbles with a nervous laugh, and you decide to have mercy and oblige, pulling out your phone and opening TikTok to scroll aimlessly until you reach your stop. 

As you settle in by Mark’s windowsill and pull out your bowl and weed from your bag, Mark chuckles in mild surprise. 

“Do you always carry your bowl around during the day?” he asks as he moves to sit across from you in the windowsill.

You nod. “Gotta stay prepared.”

Mark watches as you meticulously pack the bowl with weed and scoot closer to him, offering him the first hit. 

“Nah.” Mark shakes his head and gestures to you. “Ladies first.”

“Such a gentleman, Mark,” you hum before lighting the bowl and taking a long hit. The smoke constricts your throat, threatening a cough, but you only let out a small huff, smoke coming from out of your nostrils as you scrunch your eyes closed. “God, that first hit never gets easier.”

“Tell me about it,” Mark chuckles as he takes the bowl and lighter from you. He takes a tentative hit, his face screwing up as he struggles not to cough. “Fuck, dude.”

“I know,” you murmur soothingly as he gives into the urge and coughs, smoke billowing around both of you as he empties his lungs of the smoke and fills them with fresh air instead. “Want some water?” You reach in your bag, handing him your Camelbak bottle which he takes readily, bringing it to his lips and sucking through the straw. His tiny coughs taper off gradually as he takes intermittent sips and he finally seems to recover, throwing his arm over his eyes as he groans loudly. “What’s wrong?”

“That was so lame of me, dude,” he half-chuckles, half-groans, and you tsk disapprovingly, moving his arm from over his face.

“I’m not gonna judge you for coughing when you smoke, Mark,” you say sincerely, and his face relaxes slightly as he looks at you with bright, hopeful eyes. “I cough all the time!”

“Yeah, but I just feel like it’s not cool for me to be having whole coughing fits, y’know?” Mark mumbles shyly, and you pat his knee comfortingly, squeezing it to get his attention. 

“Mark, I think you’re very cool,” you assure him.

He shoots you a funny look. “Really?”

“Well—no, not really.” you admit, and Mark frowns, opening his mouth to complain, but you shush him before continuing, “But I never thought any of you guys were ‘cool,’ to be fair.”

“I guess I’ll take that,” he sighs with a small chuckle. 

“Wanna try something that might help it go down easier?” you suggest with a raise of your eyebrows. 

Mark looks at you skeptically. “Sure,” he agrees tentatively.

You take the bowl and lighter back from him, take as big of a hit as you can manage, and lean in close to Mark, slowly exhaling the smoke into his mouth. Mark’s eyes flutter shut gradually and his hand moves to your waist, clutching you to keep you in place. When you finally pull back from him, he leans after you, his grip on your shirt tightening, and you fight back a smile, clearing your throat softly.

“Whoa.” Mark mumbles, and you nod, already feeling a bit calmer and fuzzier than earlier. “Hey, does that actually work?” Mark wonders, eyes glazed over, and you shrug.

“I don’t really know.” you admit, “I just know it’s fun.”

“It definitely is.” He nods in agreement, and you smile. “Can we, uh…” he starts, trailing off and avoiding eye contact. 

“You wanna do it again?” you ask, and he gives a small nod with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. You take another hit of the bowl and scoot closer to Mark who, to your surprise, gently urges you onto his lap. When you lean in to blow the smoke into his mouth, he tilts his head to the side slightly, groaning quietly as you shift forward on his lap and your hands come to rest on his shoulders. 

This time, when the smoke runs out, you don’t move right away, noticing as his hands move to pull you closer, one hand pressed to the small of your back and the other resting between your shoulder blades, pulling you so close that you’re chest to chest. Testing the waters a bit, you lean forward just a bit more and graze your bottom lip against his.

Mark’s hand on your upper back moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in immediately, Mark connecting your lips with a groan of pleasure and, if you’re not mistaken, relief. He kisses you like he’ll never get the chance to do it again, with desperate nips of your bottom lip and eager movements of his tongue, which trails along your bottom lip with an air of impatience, prodding at the seam of your lips until you part them for him with a small content sigh. 

Mark’s hand on the small of your back slips down just a bit lower, resting just above your ass, and you lift your body up ever so slightly, urging his hand to drop lower so it’s directly where you both know he wants it to be. He grunts into your mouth, his hand squeezing your ass firmly as you sit back down on his lap. 

It’s when you suck gently on his tongue that his senses seem to return to him, Mark’s kissing growing more hesitant and nervous until he’s finally pulling away with a worried look on his face. If he hears the small whine of disappointment you let out, he doesn’t comment on it, instead opening and closing his mouth with no words coming out.

“I am so sorry—” he finally gets out, and you can’t help but roll your eyes and chuckle fondly.

“Mark.” you say pointedly, and he stops spluttering incoherently long enough to look at your amused expression. “What about that kiss made you think I didn’t like it?”

He shifts his gaze away from you and you make a sound of disapproval, prompting him to return his gaze to yours. You drape your arms over his shoulders, locking your fingers behind his neck, and look him directly in the eyes. 

“I thought I was coming on too strong,” Mark explains, and you roll your eyes—this time, for him to see—and rock your hips forward on his lap ever so slightly. He groans in surprise and grabs your hips with both hands, eyes widened slightly.

“I wish you’d come on stronger,” you say with a small wry smile, and he blinks at you in shock.

“For real?”

“For real.” You nod in confirmation, and he scans your face, gaze lingering on your lips. 

He wets his lips which, to your satisfaction, are still glistening from the previous kiss, and leans forward, tentatively connecting your lips again. You sigh in mild frustration, wanting more of the rougher Mark from earlier, and curl your fingers in the hair on the nape of his neck, tugging. A groan filled with need sounds out from his chest and he pushes forward more forcefully, kissing you with more passion and less hesitancy.

“Good, Mark,” you breathe encouragingly when you part to breathe, resting your forehead against his. “Just like that.”

He doesn’t even let you finish catching your breath as he captures your lips, the combination of his passionate and needy kissing and the weed in your system working to create a dizzying high feeling in your head.

Mark pulls back slightly and you whine, chasing after his lips. The chuckle he lets out is so deliciously cocky—smug, even—that you find yourself stunned by the version of Mark sitting under you right now.

“Want more?” he murmurs in a teasing lilt, and you nod, clutching the front of his shirt with one hand and pulling him closer to you. His hands slide up and down from your hips to your waist in soothing motions, directly contrasting the almost ruthless way he kisses your lips. 

You don’t know how long you two sit there kissing, but you do know that when you break the kiss to breathe, it feels like you’ve been underwater with how desperately you suck in air. 

“You’re good at that,” you say with a smile, and Mark chuckles, his hands never ceasing their motions on your sides. 

“Thanks. You are, too,” he replies with a small crooked grin. A brief silence falls between you two as you sit back slightly, resting your back against the side of the windowsill until a stirring feeling in your stomach draws your attention. 

“Hey, Mark?” you break the silence.

“Hm?”

“Do you have any snacks?”

“Snacks?” To say Mark seems confused by the shift in topic is an understatement.

“I just got really hungry.” You frown slightly, and he chuckles.

“Did the munchies hit you that fast?” Mark asks with an amused smile, and you shrug.

“I don’t know, but I want something to nibble.”

“Well, you’re in luck, because I want something, too,” he announces, sitting up slightly. You shift off his lap, quickly taking the last hit of the bowl and putting the smoking embers out, and take his hand when he offers it to you, following after him to the kitchen.

“Do you guys have fruit snacks still?” you ask, rooting through the cabinets.

“Yeah, we just bought some the other day,” Mark answers as he comes up behind you, reaching past a container of protein powder and box of cake batter to retrieve the box you’re looking for.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the box from his hand and pulling out a pack of fruit snacks. Ripping open the small package, you pop two fruit snacks in your mouth, chewing happily.

“You and your sweet tooth,” Mark chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs a bag of chips and starts eating them.

“I do not have a sweet tooth,” you reply defensively, and he raises his eyebrows.

“We have to keep our house stocked with gummies and sweet snacks otherwise you won’t come over, and you think you don’t have a sweet tooth?” Mark asks with a skeptical raise of his eyebrows, and you frown.

“Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying!”

“Shut up! Changing the topic. Why do y’all have cake batter if you don’t even bake?”

“Jaemin says he’ll get around to it one day.”

“Sure he will.” you scoff in amusement, popping another fruit snack in your mouth.

“He will if he makes it a weed cake.”

“Now that I believe.”

“Same,” Mark laughs, propping himself up on the counter across from you.

You pat the spot next to you. “No, come sit here.” Mark grins and complies, hopping up and sitting himself on the counter beside you. “Want a fruit snack?”

“Sure,” Mark replies with a shrug. You reach in the bag and pull out a strawberry one, frowning before putting it back. “I like the strawberry ones!”

“Yeah, me too,” you say. “That’s why you’re not getting one.”

“Evil,” Mark laughs, and you pull out an orange one and offer it to him. “You’re lucky I like the orange ones.”

“They taste funny to me,” you shake your head in disgust just thinking about it, and Mark snickers, reaching a hand out for the fruit snack. “No, open.” You place the fruit snack just in front of his lips.

“Are you serious?” Mark raises his eyebrows skeptically, and you nod. “Alright,” he mumbles, opening his mouth and letting you feed it to him.

“Cute,” you chuckle, popping another fruit snack in your mouth. When you pull out an orange one again, you feed it to Mark, who accepts it with no qualms.

“I don’t know if I’m just high, but you know what I wish I could have right now?” Mark pipes up, and you turn your head to look at him. “A Krabby Patty.”

“No, because why do they always look so good?” You turn your whole body towards Mark, whose eyes light up.

“Right?! Dude, Spongebob was such a good show.” Mark sighs, and you give him a funny look.

“Was? It’s still on the air,” you point out, and he gives you a baffled look. “I mean, the original creator left the show, so it’s not as funny, but it’s still pretty amusing.”

“Dude, I had no idea.” Mark’s eyes are wide with surprise before his expression shifts to hopeful. “Yo, do you think we could—”

“Yes, we can watch Spongebob.” you answer with a laugh, and Mark grins at you. “I’m pretty sure it’s marathoning on Nickelodeon in a couple minutes from now.”

“Oh, dope,” Mark mutters excitedly, hopping off the counter, grabbing the bag of chips, and heading to the living room.

You follow after him with a small mischievous smile, a scheme to mess with him already brewing in your mind.

“Wait. You wanna sit here?” Mark asks, baffled, and you smile, nodding innocently.

“Yep,” you say, popping your lips on the “p.” “Can I?”

“Sure, I guess.” Mark mumbles, and you place yourself on his lap sideways so your legs drape over his thighs. “Oh.”

“Good?” you ask, and he nods, staring down at your legs with wide eyes. 

“Great.” He sounds a bit breathless, and you manage to withhold your laugh. 

“Then pay attention,” you hum, jerking your chin towards the television. He nods jerkily and complies, pressing the mute button on the remote to unmute the volume and letting his hand fall back to his side.

You wait for the perfect time to strike, biding your time by watching the television as Spongebob plays, and the opportunity finally presents itself.

The first episode ends and the commercials start to roll before the next episode, making Mark look at you.

“You wanna watch the next one?” he asks, visibly hopeful.

“Yeah,” you hum, studying his lips. “Lemme get more comfortable, though.”

“Yeah, sure—oh,” Mark grunts when you shift on his lap, the underside of your thigh rubbing against the front of his sweats. 

“You say ‘oh’ a lot.” 

“You do things that make me say ‘oh’ a lot.” Mark replies, and you smile, pleased that he’s taken the bait.

“Oh, yeah?” you muse, resting your head on his shoulder and tracing over the silver chain around his neck. He shivers under your gentle touch, and your smile widens. “What do I do?”

“You, uh—” Mark cuts himself off, gesturing at your position. “You sit on me.”

“I sit on Lia sometimes and she doesn’t say ‘oh.’” you point out.

“That’s different, and you know it.”

“Whatever. You only explained one of your ‘oh’ moments today. What about the other one?” you press, and you watch Mark balk.

“You…moved on my lap.” 

“I can’t move now?” You raise an eyebrow. He’s walking right into your trap.

“You moved a certain way,” Mark tries desperately to explain without actually explaining, but you’re on a mission.

“What way was that?” you ask in a soft voice. Mark doesn’t answer, instead swallowing thickly, so you tug gently at the silver earring in his lobe, smiling with satisfaction when the beginnings of a moan eke out from his lips before he covers it up by clearing his throat. “You know what? I’ll help you out if you can’t find the words.” you offer, watching Mark carefully as he nods immediately.

“Please.”

“Was I moving like this?” You shift yourself on his lap again, the underside of your thigh now pressing against the front of his pants. Mark opens his mouth to speak, but you’re not done. “Or was it more like this?” You move back slightly to distribute your weight more evenly on his lap, trying to hide your smile when you feel his length starting to stir.

“Please stop moving,” he says through clenched teeth, his eyes closed, and you let out a small ‘hmph’ of dissatisfaction.

“Why?” You look directly at him, waiting for him to meet your gaze. He does after a moment of tense silence, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips. “Hm?” you hum softly, encouraging him to speak.

“Because it’s, um—it’s kind of—” Mark mumbles, looking strained.

“Oh,” you say slowly in surprise, deciding to spare him from saying the actual words. “Is it turning you on, Mark?” 

“Yes,” he grumbles reluctantly, and you smile widely, leaning closer to murmur directly into his ear.

“Good.”

He whips his head around to face you so abruptly that you don’t have time to move back, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth accidentally.

“Shit—sorry,” Mark stammers, eyes wide and nervous as if you two hadn’t just made out in his room less than an hour ago.

“It’s okay, Mark,” you laugh, waving his apology off dismissively. “I kinda liked it.”

“…Kinda?”

“By ‘kinda liked,’ I mean ‘really liked,’” you correct yourself, and he blinks at you as he visibly buffers.

He looks down at his lap for a moment, brows furrowing in thought, before he speaks next.

“Enough for me to do it again?” His voice is lower, almost hushed, and the question hangs in the infinitesimal space between you two. “Like, properly this time?”

You don’t answer him verbally yet, instead placing a finger under his chin and turning his head so he’s facing you. You stare pointedly at his lips, the bottom of which he starts to nibble nervously.

“On one condition.”

“What?”

“You do it like earlier. Don’t do it like you’re scared of me,” you murmur lightheartedly, and Mark gives a small chuckle, nodding in agreement.

“Deal.” And his lips are on yours in an instant. It takes him absolutely no time to reposition you, maneuvering you so you’re straddling his lap with your knees on the couch on either side of him. One hand falls to your hip and the other slides behind you to grip your ass firmly. He kisses you like he’s got something to prove—purposeful and skilled movements of his lips and deliberate, dizzying flicks of his tongue have you almost forgetting your objective, your mind slowly melting into putty.

He sucks on your bottom lip just as you rock your hips forward onto him, and he breaks the kiss to look down at your laps and back up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze, wetting his lips before speaking.

“Do that again.” 

“Yeah?” you ask, a bit breathless. Mark’s kissing skills manage to take you by surprise a second time, to say the least. “This?” You muster enough sense to tease him once more, grinding against his lap and whining with pleasure when your core drags against his gradually hardening length.

“Fuck, yes,” Mark groans, leaning in to kiss you again. He adjusts his grip on you, moving both hands to hold your hips, and he guides you in your fluid, rhythmic movements against his lap. 

It’s not long before he feels fully hard under your ministrations, the size of his length also something that takes you by surprise, and he shudders with pleasure, his lips moving down to kiss and suck at your neck as you grind against him.

You almost feel bad for what you’re about to do. 

Almost.

You tip your head back, allowing him more access to your neck, and press your hips down against him just a bit harder, urging both of you towards a climax.

“Mark,” you whimper, moving one hand from his shoulder to slip between you two and massage your clit through the thin fabric of your leggings and underwear. “Feels so good—”

Mark looks down at your hand moving against your core and hisses in surprise, evidently pleased by the sight. “God, I think I’m gonna—”

“Me too,” you pant, moving your fingers faster and harder as you dip your head lower to kiss Mark’s neck and suck pretty love bites into the skin. “Oh—oh, my God—” The pleasure builds and builds until it’s almost unbearable and the coil wound up tight in your stomach finally snaps, your orgasm washing over you, the intensity ebbing and flowing with every now erratic movement of your hips. 

Mark’s fingers dig into your hips so hard you suspect you’ll feel sore there later, and you keen lowly against his pulse point, collecting yourself for the next step of your plan.

“Wait—” You stop rocking your hips abruptly, and Mark’s head snaps up to look at you in a mix of alarm and confusion. “Aren’t you doing No Nut November?”

“I—well—yeah,” he stumbles through the sentence as his hips roll up, lifting you up slightly. 

“Then we should stop, right?” You raise an eyebrow, and the strained look on his face is almost enough to make you take pity on him and stop teasing him.

“I mean—” he says slowly, and you smile, slowly continuing your movements.

“What if you just forget about the bet for a bit, yeah?” you coax breathlessly, and he groans weakly.

“I can’t,” he grunts, a tortured frown on his face.

“Why not?” you coo, moving to speak against his ear. “I won’t tell.” You bring his hand up to cup your breast, Mark’s eyes bulging before he kneads it slowly.

“I could, but—” he mumbles, and you grind down harder in encouragement. “No, I’d—shit—I’d feel so guilty.”

“Oh, Mark,” you sigh sympathetically, “you’re too good. Don’t you wanna try and be just a little bad for once?”

“Yes,” he stresses the word desperately, looking up at you with a conflicted expression. “So fucking bad,” he grunts, his hips lifting up again. “But—”

“But you can’t,” you finish for him with a pitying sigh. “I get it. Guess that means I should stop, then, huh?”

“I guess so,” he mumbles, visibly flustered and sounding slightly disappointed. You nod, pat his shoulder amicably, and climb off his lap, standing up and stretching your limbs, the after-buzz of your climax creating a bit of a fuzzy headspace you wouldn’t mind staying in for a while. “Wh–where are you going?” Mark asks when you grab your bag from the other end of the couch, and you turn to him with an apologetic frown.

“I totally forgot I have an essay due this weekend,” you say sadly, the lie rolling off your tongue with ease. Truthfully, you do have an essay due this weekend; it’s just already done and you didn’t forget. “I gotta go crank it out.”

“Oh…yeah, okay,” Mark agrees after a pause, clearly dazed but nodding in understanding. “Good luck with it.”

“Thanks, Mark!” you say cheerfully before turning on your heel and making your way out of his apartment. When you shut the door behind you, you lean against the wall and exhale slowly, overwhelmed. You definitely didn’t anticipate that going as far as it did, but you can’t say you’re complaining at all. 

All you know is Mark has one hell of an erection to make disappear, and you wish you could be a fly on the wall to witness it.

 Monday, November 16th. 

“Hey, how’s Mission No Nut November going?” Lia asks as she, you, and Yeji take the elevator up to the guys’ apartment.

“Oh, great. I got them both last week—even though Jaemin interrupted—and I got Mark good on Thursday.” you answer proudly, and Yeji snickers.

“I heard about Thursday, from Jeno,” she pipes up. “He said when he came home, Mark was watching a bunch of pimple popping videos to make his boner go down.”

“That’s rich,” Lia snorts. “Speaking of Mark, I’m pretty sure he told me he wasn’t gonna be at the smoke session today; I think he has a project due this weekend.”

“Yeah, he told me, too. Pretty sure he’s camped up in the library as we speak,” you sigh, shaking your head solemnly.

“Well, now you get some one-on-one time with Haechan,” Yeji points out, and you smile, feeling mischievous. The elevator dings and the doors open, the three of you heading down the hall to their apartment.

“Very true. For your sake, y’all should avert your eyes.”

“Oh, dear God.” Yeji mumbles.

“It’s so worth it,” Lia assures her, knocking on the door. Barely any time passes before it opens, Jaemin standing there with a suspiciously wide grin on his face.

“I see someone dipped into their secret stash before we got here,” you say with a laugh, and he just nods with the same dopey smile, the four of you standing in place. “Jaemin?”

“Hm?”

“Can we come in?”

“Sure,” he answers. He doesn’t move.

“Um…Jaemin?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you let us in?” 

“Sure,” he replies. He still doesn’t move. 

Lia sighs.

“Jaemin.”

“Hm?” 

“Let us in. Move. Open sesame.” you say, waving your hand in front of his face. He blinks twice before making an “o” shape with his mouth.

“Sure, yeah, my bad.” he moves to the side, letting you three trail in and get comfortable, putting your coats away and removing your shoes.

You see Jeno setting up the bong on the coffee table while Haechan sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Haechan looks up casually, locking eyes with you before his own widen almost imperceptibly and he sits up straighter, stretching his legs out and spreading them wider.

“Hey,” he says offhandedly, grinning as casually as can be considering he just readjusted his whole demeanor to impress you. 

“Hi,” you coo, heading over to where he sits. You bend over, placing both hands on his knees, and lean forward to murmur in his ear, “I wanna sit next to you. Save me this spot?” You tap the arm of the couch, and he falters slightly, shooting you a surprised and confused look, but obliges, scooting over so there’s space between him and the arm of the couch. 

“All for you,” he assures you, and you smile, looking over to where Lia stands, mumbling to herself in annoyance as she roots through her bag for something. She pulls out a small makeup bag and opens it, retrieving a pre-rolled joint and waving it triumphantly. 

“Got it!” she chirps, moving to the couch and sitting down next to Haechan on the side he doesn’t have saved for you. “Lighter?” she asks the rest of you, and Jaemin shrugs.

“I’m guessing you took an edible, then?” Yeji asks Jaemin, and he nods, that same smile coming back to his lips.

“That I did,” he giggles, making you roll your eyes in amusement as you sit between Haechan and the end of the couch. Haechan eyes your skirt and your dark stockings intently, pinching the thin fabric with a lighthearted scoff.

“Can I help you?” you ask nonchalantly, placing your hand on top of his hand.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks curiously, and you shake your head. 

“Why? Are you worried about me, Haechan?” you coo fondly, and he turns his palm up so it’s touching yours, lacing your fingers together.

“What if I say yes?” His voice is a murmur as he turns his head to look at you.

“I’d say you’re cute.”

“Then yes.”

“You’re cute.” You smile, and he grins.

“You’re cute.”

You dismiss him with a small roll of your eyes, averting your gaze and locking gazes with Yeji, who wiggles her eyebrows suggestively as she looks pointedly at your and Haechan’s linked hands. You give a minuscule nod with a smile and return your attention to Haechan, who, you think, has witnessed your secret interaction, his eyes moving between Yeji and you.

“…Remind me again why you wanted to sit next to me,” Haechan asks you suspiciously, and you pout at him.

“Because you’re my favorite,” you coo, resting your head on his shoulder and batting your lashes at his wary look.

“Oh, yeah? Does Mark know that?” he chuckles, and you raise a brow.

“Do you want him to?” you counter.

Haechan shrugs. “Depends. I kinda like seeing him sulk sometimes.”

“Wow, you’re such a good friend.” you remark sarcastically.

“Now, now. Is that any way to talk to your favorite?” Haechan nudges you playfully and you snicker.

“Shut up.” you huff, jerking your chin in the direction of Lia, who’s taking a hit from the joint she brought. “It’s almost your turn.”

Haechan takes it from Lia’s outstretched fingers as she exhales a cloud of smoke, bringing it to his lips and taking a long drag. You can’t help but admire the way he looks while he smokes, his pink lips wrapped around the joint making you itch to feel them on your skin.

He blows out the smoke in several rings, looking over at you with a smug grin. You roll your eyes, but it’s too late—if his amused exhale is any indication, he already caught sight of your smile.

“Show off.”

“You love it,” he retorts, and you stick your tongue out at him in lieu of a verbal response. 

“Whatever. Pass it,” you beckon for the joint, and Haechan’s grin widens as he leans closer to you. “Haechan,” you complain, and he chuckles.

“Ask me nicely.” His voice is low so as not to catch anyone’s attention besides yours, and his eyes drop from your gaze to your lips, his own parting subconsciously.

You lean in closer as well, still studying his face with curiosity, and bring your lips to the side of his face, deliberately brushing them against the shell of his ear to watch him get all jittery.

“Haechan,” you coo, and you can hear him swallow thickly.

“Yeah?” He sounds significantly less confident now, you note with satisfaction.

You pause to build the suspense. “Gimme it.” You pluck the joint from his unsuspecting hand, and he splutters in surprise as you pull away from him and bring it to your lips to take a pull.

“You’re evil,” he complains, and you smile widely.

“Sorry,” you reply unapologetically, exhaling the smoke with every word you speak. You take another drag of the joint and lean over Haechan, resting your hand on his thigh as you pass it over him and back to Lia.

“Wh—hey!” Haechan protests immediately, only for you to cup his chin in your hand and blow the smoke in between his parted lips. He shuts up immediately and allows you to shotgun him, his hand moving to hold the side of your neck and keep you in place.

Normally, you’d be a bit more concerned with people watching, but not everyone in the room can see you—Jaemin and Yeji are immersed in some conversation while Jeno rummages around in the kitchen—and the ones who can see you already know about the bet and your plan, Lia pointedly looking away as she calls to Jeno in the kitchen.

When the smoke runs out, you pull back before Haechan can close the distance between you two, grinning wickedly when he chases your lips with his eyes still closed. You shake his head in a “no” gesture, and he opens his eyes slowly, gaze locked on you with a dazed look on his face.

“There’s your hit,” you murmur, and he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You raise your brows in surprise. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you speechless.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re not playing fair,” he mumbles, looking put out.

“Sorry, Haechan,” you chuckle, squeezing his thigh under the guise of comforting him. He looks down at his thigh in surprise, then back at you with wary eyes.

“What are you up to?”

You don’t answer, instead smiling secretively and sliding your hand up just a bit higher. 

“What are you up to?” he presses, and you shrug, moving your hand up just a bit higher until you brush against something warm and solid and smile in satisfaction. “Good God.”

“Haechan, take your phone out of your pocket,” you say with a mocking frown, and he glares at you.

“You know damn well that’s not my phone.” As if to prove his point, he picks his phone up from beside him, waving the device in your face.

“Oh? Then what is it?” you ask curiously, feigning cluelessness, and Haechan’s glare only intensifies. You widen your eyes in a dramatic show of realization and sit closer to him, sliding your hand up higher until there’s no mistaking your intentions. “Haechan.” You attempt to sound as scandalized as possible.

“I’m gonna throttle you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You smile sweetly, patting the growing bulge in his pants lightly. “Haechan,” you whisper, returning to your original line of questioning, “if it’s not your phone, then what is it?” 

“You know what it is.” His voice is flat, if not a bit strained, and you can’t help but smile wider.

“Are you hard, Haechan?” You place your free hand over your chest and blink at him in shock. Haechan pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he bites back a humorless chuckle, and you wet your lips absentmindedly, your gaze falling to his mouth. “Why are you hard, Haechan?” you murmur, cocking your head to the side curiously. (As if you don’t know.)

“Hm, I don’t know. Surely it has nothing to do with the girl next to me right now rubbing up on me,” Haechan remarks drily. “You get on my nerves sometimes, you know that?” He’s clearly joking, the playful lilt in his voice unmistakable, but you eagerly take the opening to be difficult.

You frown, retracting your hand from his lap. Haechan looks from his now untouched lap to you in what you’re positive is poorly concealed disappointment. “What?”

“I get on your nerves?” You sniffle in faux hurt before you angle your body away from him, resting your elbow on the arm of the sofa and placing your chin in your hand forlornly.

“Aw, c’mere,” Haechan chuckles, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You huff and scoot closer to the edge of the couch, barely hiding your yelp of surprise when Haechan pulls you to him so hard that you practically land in his lap. You continue to look away from him, sighing dramatically, and he snickers, placing his chin on your shoulder and turning his face towards you so his nose is brushing against your cheek. “Did I hurt your feelings?” 

“Let me go,” you say, your voice clipped, and he adjusts you so you’re sitting properly in his lap before he tilts his head up to press his lips to your cheek.

“Would it help if I told you just how cute I think you are?” His voice comes out as an almost incoherent mumble because of how his lips are squished against your cheek, but you hear him all the same, your face heating up as you fight back a smile.

“No.”

“You sure?” His hand moves a lock of your hair behind your ear before coming to rest on your thigh.

You pause, staring at his (very attractive) hand on your leg. “I’m sure.” 

He shifts you in his lap so his lips are closer to your ear and murmurs, “Even if I tell you that you could never actually get on my nerves and that you’re the prettiest girl?”

“What, ever?” you scoff, amused, and he nods, his lips brushing your ear with the movement.

“Yes, ever.” To your surprise, he sounds sincere, and the notion of the compliment being genuine has your cheeks burning with heat. “I can see you trying not to smile, you know.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Okay.” You shift on his lap so you can sit directly on the growing erection in his pants, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Ha, ha.” you gloat.

“You shut up.” It’s his turn to gripe at you, and you shrug.

“No.” Before he can say anything else in response, you cover his mouth with your hand and lean over towards Lia to take the joint from her once more. You two share a secretive, knowing look before she angles her body so that she’s shielding you and your shenanigans from the rest of the group.

You keep your hand over Haechan’s mouth as you take your hit of the joint, before a warm, wet sensation on your palm has you yanking your hand off of his mouth like you’ve been burned. You stare down at the glistening wet stripe on your palm in bewilderment and look back up at him incredulously.

“Can I help you?” Haechan asks nonchalantly, having the audacity to smile innocently at you, and you narrow your eyes.

“Did you seriously just lick me?” you scoff in disbelief, and he shrugs.

“Maybe.”

“You are so weird.” you mumble as you pass Lia the joint, skipping Haechan once more.

“You’re gonna stop skipping me in the rotation, I know that much.” Haechan warns and you roll your eyes.

“That’s for saying I get on your nerves and for being weird.” you reply, turning your nose up.

“Oh, please. You’re sitting on my lap, so clearly you must like how weird I am, at least a little bit.” He grins teasingly, and you roll your eyes, adjusting yourself on his lap until he lets out a choked groan from the feeling of you moving against his concealed, almost entirely hard length. “Stop moving.”

“Your dick is making me uncomfortable,” you lie in a huff, squirming around a bit more before he grabs your hips to restrict your movements. “Get un-hard.”

“I can’t just get un-hard,” Haechan bites back.

“You didn’t even try!”

“That’s not how dicks work!” Haechan whisper-snaps at you, and you narrow your eyes.

“Well, do something,” you complain, ending your little hushed whisper debate. “Or I will.” 

Haechan regards you warily. “Do I want to know what that means?”

“Probably not.” You shrug. “But you’re gonna find out anyway.”

“Psst!” Lia whispers to get your attention, and you look over at her, feeling slightly sheepish. “Do either of you want to take a hit from the bong?”

“I’m good for right now,” you say, smiling as the hits from the joint you’ve already taken continue to take effect, while Haechan hums thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I’ll take a hit.” He reaches for the bong as Lia hands it over, gripping your waist with his free hand to keep you steady, and an idea comes to your mind of how you can mess with him even more.

He brings his mouth to the mouthpiece of the bong, taking his hit and you gently stroke his leg, smiling innocently when he side-eyes you suspiciously. You wait patiently until he finishes exhaling the smoke (you’re not a total monster) to rest your hand directly over his concealed length and squeeze it firmly, making him cough in surprise, Haechan spluttering comically as you bite back your laughter. 

“Y’know what?” Haechan mutters, jaw set in determination as he stares you down. “Come on.” He moves you off of his lap, wraps his fingers around your wrist, and pulls you to your feet, walking away quickly with you in tow. When Jaemin curiously asks where you’re going, Haechan mutters something about the kitchen and snacks, not offering any further explanation.

You shoot Jaemin a thumbs-up over your shoulder, and he grins, nodding and returning the gesture just before Haechan leads you out of view. You two make it into the kitchen, passing a smiling Jeno with a bag of Cheetos and a plate of pizza rolls on his way out, and Haechan pushes you up against the counter, caging you in with his arms and staring directly at you.

“Haechan, why are we here?” you ask, looking back at him as calmly as possible given the steady increase of your heart rate as he eyes you with an unreadable expression.

“What,” Haechan steps closer to you, making you shrink back against the counter even more, “are you playing at?”

You blink at him impassively. “I don’t know what you mean,” you lie.

“You’re sitting next to me, calling me your favorite, feeling me up in front of our friends—”

“Haechan.” You interrupt him, an eyebrow raised skeptically. “You literally liked it. Stop complaining.”

“I don’t like being felt up in front of our friends, actually.” You can tell he’s trying to sound like he means it, but the way he suddenly avoids your gaze sheepishly tells you everything you need to know.

“You’re lying,” you say simply, and he huffs. 

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am n—”

“Haechan, do you think I’m an idiot?” You stare at him, unimpressed. “You liked it. You pulled me onto your lap. You didn’t move my hand once.” He rolls his eyes, still not making eye contact, and you sigh in frustration, cupping his chin and turning his head so he’s looking at you. “You wanna know why I did all that?” you ask in a quiet but urgent voice, and he blinks a couple of times before nodding. “I was sitting next to you and you just look so good today—”

“Don’t say that,” he mutters, his brows furrowing together as he looks away from you again.

“You do,” you insist, pulling Haechan closer to you by the chin. “You look so hot in that hoodie, honestly.” You loop one of the strings of the light gray hoodie around your finger and tug it lightly as you continue speaking. “Honestly, it’s really on you that I did anything in the first place,” You say, shrugging, and he looks back at you incredulously.

“It’s on me?”

“Yep.” You smile at him and bring both hands to the hem of his hoodie, tugging him even closer to you. “You had the nerve to wear gray sweatpants—”

“They match my hoodie!” 

“—like some kind of slut,” you continue, looking from your hands on the bottom of his hoodie up to his face, “and think no one was gonna notice your entire goddamn dick print in your pants?”

“Well, who’s looking that closely?!” Haechan splutters defensively, and you scoff. 

“Everyone knows the shape of a dick, Haechan!” You whisper-yell incredulously. “Plus, it’s not like you’re exactly small, y’know.”

“So, it’s my fault that you tried to jump my bones? My crime is having a big dick and wanting to wear sweats in the middle of November?” Haechan asks in disbelief, and you nod simply, pulling him even closer until your legs brush against his. 

“Yeah.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m not. Actually, what I am is turned on,” you correct, and Haechan stops short, looking at you carefully.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me.” You stare back at him challengingly. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, Haechan’s eyes briefly dropping to scan your whole body before returning upwards to look into your own, his gaze considerably more intense and glinting with mischief. “Can you stop staring at me like that and do something about it?”

“Oh?” Haechan’s smile turns wicked as he steps closer to you so you’re pressed up against each other with the countertop digging into your back. “Do what about it, hm?”

“I don’t know,” you lilt, dragging the last syllable out and batting your lashes at him coyly. With one hand, you release his hoodie and trail down his body the short distance from the hem of his hoodie to the string of his sweats. You slowly pull at the string until it’s untied, looking up at his face. He’s mesmerized, watching your hand as it dips into the band of his sweats and snaps the elastic against his skin, making him jolt. “Use your imagination.”

“You are so dangerous.” Haechan mumbles in a daze, but there’s an unmistakable desire in his voice that gives you all the confirmation you need to continue. He brings his hands to your hips, urging you up and onto the counter, immediately pushing himself between your legs and resting his hands on your thighs. 

You place a hand between your legs protectively to conceal yourself, your skirt riding up your thighs as he massages them. 

“Relax,” he chuckles, pinching your thin stockings and letting them lightly snap against your skin, “you’re covered.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” you mumble, averting your gaze, and he snickers, pinching your stockings again and tugging them. “Stop, they're fragile—you could rip them.”

“Oh, I know,” he murmurs teasingly, looking up from your thighs at your face. “I want to rip them.”

“Don’t you dare,” you warn him, and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Stop me.” His eyes are trained on your lips and he’s got his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, painting a very alluring image that makes you wish you could get just a bit of friction between your legs, any pressure at all, to relieve yourself of some of the tension building up. 

He leans forward, your lips brushing lightly against each other’s, and you’re not even sure who’s teasing whom at this point. You do know, however, that Haechan is the first to cave, leaning in with a groan to close the distance between you two and connect your lips.

You two kiss with an air of desperation, a feverish quality to your every move as he kneads your thighs, hiking your skirt up higher. His tongue eases between your lips and he strokes it against your own, pushing forward slightly to suck on your tongue when he pulls back.

As you two kiss, you push your hand past the band of his sweats, moving to slip your hand into his boxers, only to stop short and look at him in surprise. He raises his eyebrows and grins playfully, eyes darting between where your hand lies in his pants and your shocked face.

“No boxers? Just out here, rawdogging your sweats, dick and balls and all?” You’re incredulous, and he shrugs as his grin widens. “You really are a slut, Haechan.”

“Hey!” Haechan complains, frowning at you. He wraps his hand around your wrist and urges it lower down until your fingertips are brushing against his length, murmuring, “Besides, don’t act like you don’t love it.”

“I never said I don’t love it,” you reply slowly, wrapping your hand around the base of his length. His erection is hot and heavy in your palm, thick and tempting, and you stroke upwards, relishing the hiss he lets out. “I just said you’re a slut.”

“And what about you, pretty?” Haechan presses in a low voice. “Are you a little slut?”

“Me? No,” you answer, stroking his length faster and appreciating the way he grows in your hand. “I’m innocent.”

“Sure,” he snorts in amusement. “Your hand is wrapped around my dick right now.”

“Oh, is it? I hadn’t noticed.” You twist your wrist, tightening your grip on him and stroking him faster. He grunts in satisfaction and leans closer to you, tilting your head to the side slightly and giving your neck heated, wet kisses as you jerk him off. You welcome the attention eagerly, loosely hooking your legs around the backs of his legs and sighing happily as he licks and sucks at your pulse point.

“Wait—slow down, or I’m gonna cum.” Haechan mutters in a warning tone against your skin, and it’s your turn to snort in amusement.

“Haechan, what do you think my goal is right now?”

“No, but—shit,” he swears, biting down on your neck to stifle the groan that escapes him when you jerk him off faster, swiping your thumb over the head of his length, collecting the glaze of his precum and using it as lubrication. “No, because—ugh, that feels so good.”

“Good,” you hum sweetly, massaging his tip with your thumb and working your hand up and down his length as he pants against your neck, his kisses getting sloppier.

“I can’t,” he manages to get out through his clenched teeth. “No Nut November—the bet—”

“Fuck the bet,” you say simply, and he shakes his head, a desperate, plaintive whine leaving him.

“Can’t—I can’t cum,” he says through a shaky exhale, and you roll your eyes as you collect several more beads of precum from the head of his length.

“What’s this, Haechan?” you taunt him playfully, stroking him faster with the help of the precum. “Feels like cum to me.”

“That doesn’t count,” he whines, and you snicker.

“You really don’t want to cum?” you ask gently, rolling your eyes as he starts to thrust forward into your hand. “You’re not acting like you don’t want to cum.”

“It feels so good,” he complains, and you coo sympathetically, letting him fuck into your fist.

“Then cum.”

“No—”

“Then I’ll stop,” you say simply, and his fingers dig into your thighs desperately.

“No—” 

“Haechan.”

“God, fuck, please, just a little bit longer.” Haechan pants, and you pretend to oblige, continuing to provide the fist he’s fucking. You can feel him throbbing in your hand as his would-be climax approaches, and you smile devilishly when you pull your hand out from his underwear and watch as he goes through every stage of grief, lingering in anger before a brief pass through bargaining and finally coming to acceptance as his head hangs low.

“Sorry,” you say with a pout, and he looks up at you, still defeated but also skeptical.

“Are you?”

You pretend to think. “Nope.” You gently push him away from you with a knee to his stomach, hopping off the counter and smiling at him. “Have fun getting rid of that,” you chuckle, gesturing to the now incredibly prominent imprint of his erection, and he glowers at you. “I’m gonna go take a bong hit.”

You don’t stick around to hear his response, turning on your heel and heading back into the living room. Your friends all turn from their conversations to look at you as you re-enter the room, all sporting the same expectant look, and silently celebrate when you shoot them a thumbs-up, Jeno and Lia high-fiving.

“Want some?” Jeno holds up the bong, and you nod, reaching for it before you stop yourself and look at your hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I do want some,” you say, “but I think I should wash my hands first. Be right back.” You head for the bathroom, peeking in at Haechan as you pass the kitchen and clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh.

He’s standing with his forehead against the fridge, gently thumping his head against the metal door, and repeatedly muttering, “I fucking hate November.”

You know you should feel bad, but…you don’t. At all, really.

As a matter of fact, you think you might love November.

 Friday, November 20th.

“Knock, knock,” you call when you poke your head into Mark’s room. He turns from his computer towards the door, beaming when he sees you. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course, dude,” Mark says, waving you in with one hand. He turns back to his screen and presses a couple of keys on his keyboard, swearing under his breath before turning back to face you. 

“Whatcha doin’?” you ask.

“Playing Monster Hunter World,” he answers with a jab of his thumb in the direction of his screen. “Why, what’s up?”

“Missed you, that’s all.” you say softly, making your way over to his chair and standing behind it. “I did my rounds bothering your roommates and it’s your turn to put up with me.”

“You’re telling me Haechan let you leave his room?” Mark snickers in disbelief, craning his head to look at you.

“I told him I wanted to see you.” You shrug.

Mark snorts loudly. “And he still let you leave his room?”

“I can be very persuasive,” you huff, and Mark scans your frame before raising his eyebrows.

“I bet.” he mumbles with a small smirk.

You blink twice. “What was that?”

“Look at your outfit,” Mark swivels around in his chair to face you fully and you scoff in surprise. Mark seems to pick up on where your mind is heading and his eyes widen as he shakes his head vehemently. “No, not like that!”

“Then like what?” You cock your head to the side and Mark puts his head in his hands, sighing in anguish. 

“Like—you look hot, dude—that’s all I meant,” he assures you in a rush of words, and you let out a small huff, prompting him to reach for your hands. He pulls you closer and looks up at you with pleading eyes. “I would never say something like that.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, and he swears under his breath. 

“You just look really…fucking…attractive, so it’s no wonder why he listened to you.” Mark says carefully. You feel a smile coming on and you step closer, nudging his knees apart to stand between them. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, oh, my God, yeah—” Mark stammers, releasing one hand to gesture at your outfit. “Your hair—I love when you wear your hair like that—and your jeans, they—um,” Mark’s voice trails off awkwardly and you cock an eyebrow, bending down to meet his eyes. “They fit you very nicely.”

“Mark, are you telling me my ass looks good?” You stand up and bite back a smile as his ears redden and he laughs nervously, releasing you to rub the back of his neck.

“Maybe,” he answers sheepishly, looking up at you. At the sight of your thoroughly amused face, some of his confidence returns to his demeanor. “Yeah, maybe I am.”

“If you were, I’d say thank you,” you say with a playful shrug. “Maybe even kiss you for the compliment.”

“I was definitely complimenting your ass.” The words can’t come out of Mark’s mouth fast enough, apparently, and you laugh in surprise.

“Well, thank you,” you laugh before you sink into a squat and rest your elbows on his lap. “Where do you want your kiss?”

He taps his cheek and you smile and lean closer to press a kiss there, his cheek moving under your lips as he smiles.

“Your cardigan is also really, um, flattering,” Mark adds when you sit back, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Is it? Haechan said that, too,” you muse thoughtfully.

“Yeah, he’s right.” Mark nods, and you raise your eyebrows.

“He made some dumb joke about my cardigan, too,” you continue, and Mark looks at you expectantly. “Said I look breedable—y’know, like that meme?”

Mark chokes on air, his face reddening as he coughs and splutters and you just watch with growing amusement.

“He said that?” Mark squeaks, and you nod with a grin. “I mean—well—”

“Mark, are you agreeing with him?”

“Well—”

“Mark.” Your eyebrows can’t possibly be raised any more than they are now. “Are you saying I look breedable?”

“Oh, my God. How did we get on this topic?” Mark mumbles nervously, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Answer my question.” you press, and he balks.

“I’m not saying that he’s wrong.”

“So you agree? This silly little cardigan makes you wanna breed me?” You press your tongue to the inside of your cheek as you fight back a laugh.

Mark looks like he could faint. “Can we please change the topic?”

“Sure,” you reply easily, and he visibly relaxes, slumping against his chair and exhaling loudly. “You know, I think you should get another kiss.” 

He looks up at you curiously. “Yeah?”

“For your troubles,” you say, shrugging. His gaze drops from your eyes to your lips and he nods, making you smile.

Leaning down again, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, Mark turning his head at the last moment and making you kiss him on the lips. 

“For my troubles,” he repeats with a small grin, and you match his expression before an idea pops into your head.

“Maybe you should get another one.”

“Yeah, maybe I should.” He sounds breathless, and you bite back a chuckle.

“I could kiss you here,” you murmur, hovering over his mouth, and he leans forward to connect your lips, frowning when you pull back. Resting your hand on his lap and keeping it there even when he jolts, you look down at where his print is pressing against his sweats, smiling sweetly. “Or I could kiss you here.”

“Oh, shit,” Mark mumbles quietly.

“Is that a no?” you frown, and Mark chuckles, albeit nervously.

“You sound like you want to,” he says.

“Of course I want to,” you snicker. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.”

“Oh, God,” he groans, his head falling back against the chair. Taking that as a yes, you sink to your knees and start untying the string in his sweatpants. “Out in the open like this?” he asks anxiously, and you pause to think.

“You’re right,” you muse, crawling under his desk and beckoning him over. When he hesitantly scoots closer, you resume untying the string to his sweats, pulling them down enough to reveal his boxers. Looking up at him with a grin, you press a kiss over his boxers to the underside of his length, smiling when his body goes stiff. “You can go back to playing your game, y’know.”

He lets out a small groan from the back of his throat but nods, reaching for his keyboard again with hands that tremble slightly. You press small kisses over his clothed erection as he starts his game back up, waiting somewhat patiently for him to get back into his rhythm.

When he starts to grow in his boxers, you pull the band of them down to let his length spring free. It slaps against his stomach, visibly flushed, and you wrap your hand around the base, stroking him slowly before wrapping your lips around his tip, licking at the slit leaking precum.

“Oh, fuck—” Mark grunts, his head falling back against his chair as his length twitches in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you start to bob your head up and down his shaft, taking in more of his length every time you move downward. “That feels so good—aw, hell.”

Pulling off of him with a wet pop, you look up at his face. “What happened?”

“I died,” he groans. “A fucking pukei-pukei got me.” 

“Mm,” you hum in acknowledgement as you flatten your tongue and drag it up the length of his shaft, swirling the tip of it around the head of his cock before you speak again. “I don’t know what that means,” you reply simply, taking him back into your mouth.

“You’re distracting me,” he whines, eyes darting from his screen down to you repeatedly. 

“Pretend I’m not here,” you offer helpfully.

“My dick is in your mouth.” he says flatly, staring at you blankly. “Are you serious right now?”

You pull off of him again, stroking his length with your saliva as lubricant as you lick against the slit in his tip, and he sucks in a loud breath.

“Now it’s not in your mouth.”

“You’re kind of evil, you know that?”

“No, I’m not,” you say with a teasing pout. “You’re mean.”

“I’m mean?” he asks incredulously. 

“Mhm,” you hum as you kiss down his length to his balls. He hisses loudly and his cock twitches in your hand, his body starting to curl in on itself as his abdomen constricts. You lick at them diligently and look up at his reaction, smiling as his eyes are screwed shut. 

“I can’t—fuck, I think I’m gonna—”

“Cum?” you finish for him. “Do it.”

“I can’t, dude, the bet—”

“Mark.” you say flatly, still stroking him as you speak. “I’m giving you a blowjob and you can’t stop calling me ‘dude?’”

“Sorry,” he groans, bucking his hips up towards your mouth again. 

“Just cum, Mark,” you coo, your lips pressed to the underside of his length where his tip and shaft meet. “I’ll let you finish in my mouth,” you offer, and he swears under his breath, gripping the arm of his chair so hard his knuckles turn white.

“Please don’t say that again,” he moans, and you hum questioningly.

“Say what?” you ask, feigning cluelessness. “That I want you to cum in my mouth?”

“Shit,” he gasps, his length starting to throb in your hand and against your mouth.

“I won’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and he whimpers.

“I can’t,” he grunts in defeat, and you sigh in disappointment, pulling away from his length. “No!”

“You can’t cum, right?” you remind him, and his eyes squeeze shut in distress as he looks thoroughly tortured.

“No,” he finally gets out, and you suck your teeth.

“Shame,” you say with a shrug. “What are you gonna do now?”

“Play this game and hope my boner goes down.” he mumbles defeatedly.

You nod. “Sounds good to me.” A moment or two passes before you speak again. “Mark?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you move so I can get out from under your desk?”

“Oh, shit, yeah, sorry—” He scoots back and you get to your feet, running your fingers through his hair gently as a nonverbal apology.

“No problem,” you reply with a smile. “I’m gonna leave you to, uh, deflate your boner.”

“Deflate? It’s not a balloon animal,” Mark snorts, and you shrug.

“Whatever. Have fun with your pika-pika!”

Mark chuckles. “It’s pukei-pukei. Pika-pika is the sound Pikachu makes.”

“Oh. Pikachu is so cute; you should play Pokémon instead.”

“I’ll think about it,” he answers with a small nod. You both know he won’t.

“Good! Oh, and also?”

“Mm?”

“Put your dick away before someone else comes in.” you suggest, pointing at his lap before you wave and head out of his room.

“Thank you!” he calls out as you shut his door, almost colliding with Jaemin. 

“Sorry, Jaem!” you apologize.

Jaemin pats your arm good-naturedly. “No worries.” He doesn’t move for a moment, making you pause. 

“Is there a reason why you’re not moving?”

“I was gonna ask Mark if he wanted to play a game of Overwatch with me,” he explains, jerking his chin in the direction of Mark’s door.

“Oh! Um, he’s not ready just yet—I just got finished, um…well…”

“Yes?”

“His dick was in my mouth.”

“Ah. So he’s hard.”

“Yes.”

Jaemin nods slowly. “I’ll just text him.”

“Good idea.” 

 Monday, November 23rd. 

Your teacher bids you all goodbye and you pack up your things quickly, slinging your bag over your shoulder and waving to your teacher as you exit the classroom. You don’t have to wait long by the door for the person you’re waiting for to come out, Haechan emerging three people after you.

“Thank God we got her off topic for the last thirty minutes,” you sigh in relief, and Haechan snickers as he falls into step with you. “I don’t think I would have lasted the rest of the lecture.”

“She’s so chill, but man, do those lectures make me fall asleep.” Haechan agrees, and you nod with a laugh, squinting as you exit the building and are assaulted with the surprising brightness that is the sky at 4:30pm. 

You two get down the small set of stairs and you turn in the direction of your apartment complex. “See you later,” you say with a wave, but Haechan’s hand closes around your wrist immediately, startling you and stopping you from walking any farther. 

“Where are you going?” Haechan sounds puzzled and petulant, and you turn back around, looking from where he’s holding your wrist to his face with an expression every bit as puzzled as he sounds.

“Home,” you answer slowly, blinking at him in confusion. 

“What if we hung out?” Haechan suggests, tugging you a bit closer. “You can come over.”

“And do what?” you ask, and he pauses to think.

“I was gonna play Overwatch for a bit before I did homework; you could watch me,” he offers hopefully, and you tap your chin thoughtfully.

“Y’know, I was actually gonna go watch paint dry, and that’s kinda gonna take up my whole afternoon, so—”

“Oh, shut up and just come hang out with me,” Haechan grouches as you laugh at your own joke, eventually unable to hold back his laughter at how visibly amused you are.

“You’re just gonna ignore me for at least an hour while you play.”

“I won’t ignore you,” he promises. You don’t believe him.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, dragging out the last word, and Haechan sucks his teeth and yanks your bag off of your shoulder, slinging it onto his own. “Hello?”

“Hello.” He raises his eyebrows expectantly, and you roll your eyes. 

“Why did you take my bag?”

“I’m going home. This bag is coming with me. If you care about it, you’ll come with me.” Haechan speaks slowly, a smug little grin curling his lips when you grumble under your breath.

“Come on.” You push between his shoulder blades, guiding him forward. “Let’s go. You’d better have snacks.”

“Of course I do,” Haechan replies, offended. “Do you think I’m a monster?”

“Yes, actually, I do.”

“You little—”

“Walk!”

You feel played. Played, scammed, used, bamboozled, and any other synonyms you’re forgetting.

It’s been 45 minutes since you got to Haechan’s room, he hasn’t graced you with the sight of anything but his back as he immerses himself in his game, and you just ran out of gummy worms.

“Haechan, why did you even invite me if you’re not gonna, I don’t know, talk to me?” you complain.

“I’m almost done with this game, I swear.” Haechan assures you, and you grumble incoherently as he returns his full attention to the game, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. “Jesus fucking Christ, can Sombra get off my ass—”

“I hope Sombra gets you.” you mutter under your breath bitterly, not knowing what that even means. 

You want revenge. And, as you study Haechan’s figure from behind, you come up with a pretty good idea of how you’re going to get it. You planned to mess with him in a different way—hence your precautionary measures of wearing matching underwear and putting a bit more effort into your appearance before class today—but this new method can’t hurt.

You take off your chunky knit sweater, balling it up and chucking it at his back. He grunts at the impact and turns back to shoot you a brief affronted glare, but the irritation wipes right off his face when he takes in the sight of your thin tank top you’re wearing underneath the sweater. It leaves little to the imagination, to be frank, the neckline dipping to reveal a bit of your cleavage, and the shirt rides up easily—very easily. You lock eyes with him once he’s finished staring at your newly revealed skin and blink expectantly.

“What?”

“You hurled your thick ass sweater at me, and you have the nerve to ask me ‘what?’” Haechan snorts incredulously, and you nod.

“Yes, yes, I do.”

“When my back bruises from that attack, I’m making you kiss it better,” he huffs, turning back around to focus on the game.

“Yeah, whatever,” you mutter to yourself, already thinking about your next move. You shift positions, lying down on your stomach, making sure your shirt does its job of riding up to reveal a sliver of skin around your waist. You pick up your phone and pretend to be engrossed for a while until you sigh loudly.

Haechan turns to face you again, no doubt prepared to tell you to shut up, but—yet again—he finds himself speechless as his eyes greedily rake over your body, lingering on the bare skin of your waist and the curve of your ass in your leggings. 

“Why are you sighing?”

“I want to go home.”

“Don’t go home,” he says immediately, “I swear I’m almost done. Our DPS keeps dying and the healers keep running off on their own—”

“Oh, well, if the healers are just out here running off on their own, we can’t have that.” you snark.

If Haechan notices your sarcasm, he doesn’t comment. “Yeah, I need them to get on the goddamn payload so I can—”

“Haechan, I don’t know what any of these words mean.” you gripe, and he sighs.

“The payload is—”

“Oh, let me be clearer. I don’t know, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.” 

“Such a sassy little puppy,” Haechan snickers, and you hesitate.

“Puppy?”

“Yeah, puppy. It’s cute, like you. It fits.”

He’s got a point—it is a cute nickname. But for some reason, the fluttering feeling of delight (and budding arousal) you get in your stomach when he uses it makes you feel like being a contrarian.

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Why not?”

You balk. “I don’t like it.”

“You’ll warm up to it,” he says confidently, and you glare at him petulantly, trying your best to hide that you’ve already more than warmed up to it.

“Whatever,” you huff, and he chuckles quietly, raking his eyes over your frame again and wetting his lips before turning back around.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at how easy he is to mess with. 

You don’t make a peep for the next fifteen minutes, your silence unnerving Haechan to the point where he turns around several times unprompted. He’s not even met with eye contact from you as you essentially ignore him in his own room, and you can feel it driving him insane.

Sure enough, in a moment, the monitor he’s using goes black in your peripheral vision and he stands up, stretching before walking over to you and standing by the side of the bed.

You don’t look up. “What?”

It’s his turn to sigh now, his fingers lightly tickling at the back of your ankle as he waits to have your attention. “I’m bored.”

“Sucks.”

He sucks his teeth, fingers grazing up the back of your calf and resting in the dip behind your knee. “Play with me.”

“I don’t play video games.”

“Not video games.”

“Unless you’re feeling up to getting your ass beat in a game of checkers, I don’t know what game we could play.”

“Oh, my God, stop being difficult.” Haechan groans, squeezing the back of your thigh. 

You finally look up at him and almost wish you hadn’t. He’s looking at you like he wants to devour you and it weakens your resolve ever so slightly.

You pout up at him. “I like being difficult.”

He stares at you impassively for a moment before realization clicks on his face. “I know what this is about.” 

“What what’s about?” you reply huffily, and he grins as he moves to sit on the bed on top of you, his knees on either side of your legs. 

“You’re upset because I didn’t talk to you while I was gaming, aren’t you?” Haechan asks with a knowing lilt to his voice. 

You don’t say anything for a moment. “I am not upset,” you lie.

“Aw,” Haechan coos, both hands gliding up the backs of your thighs and stopping just below your ass. You feel him shift on top of you and a moment later, his breath fans over your ear. “Did puppy need my attention?”

The way you tense under him is surely noticeable, and that annoyingly pleased fluttering feeling in your stomach returns. However, you’re still annoyed with him.

“Don’t call me that.” you grouch, and he chuckles, lips brushing your ear ever so lightly before he sits back up.

“Stop liking it, and maybe I won't.” Haechan retorts, and you say nothing yet again, scrolling aimlessly through Twitter. He lets the silence hang between you two as he kneads the backs of your thighs, but breaks it when he brings his hands to trace his fingers along the bare skin between your shirt and your leggings. “It’s the middle of fall and you’re in this flimsy little shirt.”

“It’s called wearing layers, nincompoop.”

“It’s practically as thin as toilet paper,” he quips back, and you huff as he pushes it up to reveal more of your back. “I could rip this right off of you,” he muses thoughtfully.

“Do not let the intrusive thoughts win, Haechan,” you comment drily, and he hums softly in acknowledgement, although it sounds awfully dismissive. “And put my shirt back down.”

“It’s not like it’s serving any purpose.” Haechan counters, and you groan, moving to sit up. Haechan presses down on your back between your shoulder blades, flattening you against the bed once more, and you let out an irritated sigh. “Only thing it’s doing is turning me on, actually.”

“That sounds awfully personal.”

“Oh, you’re so cute when you’re being a brat.” Haechan pretends to swoon and you snicker despite yourself. “Come on, I’m bored!” He shifts his weight to his heels so he’s not sitting on you anymore and smacks your ass once, ignoring your yelp as he rolls you onto your back. 

“That sounds,” you say slowly, deliberately stressing every syllable as you look up at him with a bored expression, “like a you problem.”

“I’m about to make it your problem, actually.” Haechan smiles down at you, shifting his weight forward again so he’s sitting on your thighs. “Because in addition to being bored, now I’m feeling a little riled up from this little outfit you have on.”

“So?” 

“So,” Haechan stresses the word as he leans down closer to you, “I need you to be a good puppy—”

“Stop calling me that—”

“—and indulge me for a bit.” He finishes his sentence in a softer voice than he started out with, nudging the tip of your nose with his playfully. “Gimme a kiss.”

He advances on you even further, lips now but a breath away from each other, and flicks at your bottom lip with his tongue. You play coy, having fun with riling him up, and turn your head to the side to avoid his kiss.

“Aw, come on, puppy.” Haechan teases affectionately, his nose tracing down your jawline before he brushes his parted lips against your neck. “Don’t get all shy on me now. Where’d that attitude go?”

“Still here,” you mumble stubbornly, and he chuckles.

“So let me give you the attention you so desperately wanted earlier,” he offers, sounding more smug than ever, and you splutter indignantly, turning back to glare at him.

“I was not desperate—” you begin to protest, but Haechan flashes you a triumphant grin before leaning in and sealing the gap between his lips and yours. You whine almost instantly under him, body thrumming with excitement as he moves his lips against yours and teases them apart to guide his tongue into your mouth.

When his tongue strokes against yours for the first time, he groans in delight and breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you both take deep breaths. 

“You taste like candy.” Haechan murmurs appreciatively.

“It’s probably the gummy worms,” you remind him, and he nods thoughtfully. 

“Well, whatever it is, I can’t get enough of it,” he confesses, barely giving you a chance to respond before he’s kissing you again. His hips pin yours to the bed, his body pressing down on yours so firmly that you’re not sure if you could get up on your own.

Not that you’re complaining.

His hand moves quickly, on a mission as he slips it between you two and slides under the waistband of your leggings. He strokes at your core through the underwear, a wicked smile curling his lips when he feels the damp spot from your arousal.

“Poor puppy,” he coos in mock sympathy, pressing against your clit hard enough to make you whimper. “All you wanted was my attention, yeah?”

“Don’t call me puppy,” you whine, and he kisses down your neck to suck and kiss above your pulse point.

“I know you like it,” he pants, his breath fanning over your neck, “you know you like it; why fight it?”

“Shut up,” you complain, your hips moving up to meet his teasing touches. 

“Fine,” Haechan murmurs, seeming to let it go (which you find suspicious). “How about ‘baby?’”

“I like ‘baby,’” you mumble, jolting in surprise when he finds your clit through your underwear. “‘Baby’ is good.”

“Glad we agree.” He doesn’t say much else, returning his attention to occupying his lips, which are lazily mouthing at your neck, and fingers, which are teasingly dipping into your underwear. 

Getting fed up with his taunting, you squeeze your legs together tightly, letting out a small “hmph” of finality, and he chuckles, withdrawing his fingers.

“I knew you wanted to play.” He nips at your neck one last time before lifting his head and ghosting his lips against yours. His fingers dig between where your thighs meet, poking, prodding, and pinching as he tries to force his hand between your legs. “Baby,” he purrs, voice low and sweet, “be good and let me in.”

You just huff again, trying (and ultimately failing) to suppress your growing smile at his persistent attack on your legs.

“Fine,” he says with a shrug, retracting his hand from between your legs. “You leave me no choice.” His fingers immediately press into your sides, tickling you, and you shriek with laughter, squirming helplessly under him. 

He watches you with a glint in his eyes and a grin on his face as he sits up, now using both hands to torment you.

You, meanwhile, have tears welling up in your eyes from how hard you’re laughing, and you weakly hit at his chest, your muscles seizing up from the attack.

“Stop!” you gasp, pushing at his hands desperately. “I’m sorry!”

“Are you really?” He raises an eyebrow, and you nod vigorously in agreement.

“I am! I’m so—please—I’m so sorry!” you cry pleadingly, and he moves so quickly that you don’t even get time to process the situation until he’s done. He pushes your hands above your head, gripping your wrists with one hand, and brings his free hand back between your legs.

“So you’ll be good?” That damn eyebrow is getting to you, the brow still raised as he cocks his head at you.

“Yes,” you say with a frown, and he coos in mock sympathy, kissing you and slipping his hand into your underwear. He looks down at where your bodies meet and traces circles all over your skin, slowly inching lower and lower until he brushes past your clit and parts your folds, looking back up at you with a cocky smile.

“You’re already so wet,” he teases, wetting his lips before he dips his head down to kiss your neck. “Do you want me inside?”

“Yes,” you breathe, and he grins against your neck.

“Yeah? Want my fingers inside you?” He’s teasing you again, urging you to ask for his fingers, and your patience starts to dwindle.

“Yes,” you repeat through your clenched teeth.

He hums thoughtfully and pushes his fingers into you slowly, removing his lips from your neck to watch you as you moan in relief. “That’s a good puppy,” he purrs as he drinks in your reactions to his experimental movements of his fingers. 

“Not puppy,” you whine, but he silences you with a kiss, moving his fingers in and out of you quickly. 

“I think you like it,” he mumbles, biting down on your bottom lip gently before bringing his lips to your ear. “Don’t you, puppy?” Your moan slips out accidentally, and he inhales sharply when you clench around his fingers. “Knew it.”

His fingers curl inside of you slowly, drawing out a whimper from you as he strokes along your inner walls, in search of your most sensitive spot. Your hips rock up into his hand, craving more of him, and he responds by pushing your hips back down and giving you exactly what you want. He pushes his fingers deeper, as deep as they can go, and his fingers finally find the spot along your walls that makes you moan and clutch at his arm desperately.

“There—right there—fuck,” you say breathlessly, and he nods, keeping his pace and using his thumb to massage your clit in eager circles that bring you closer to your climax.

“You wanna cum?” Haechan coos, and you nod vigorously, making a smirk curl his lips. “Say you’re my puppy.”

“Wh-what?” You stammer, confused, and he slows his pace, making you grasp his arm tightly in panic. “Don’t stop!”

“What are you?” he presses, moving at a frustratingly slow rhythm. You cry out weakly, and he raises an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“I’m—Haechan, please—”

“Say it, and I’ll make you feel so good. Whose puppy are you?”

“I’m yours—” you whimper, and he nods encouragingly.

“My what?”

“Your puppy, Haechan, please—” you beg, and he grins widely, nodding again.

“Cum for me, puppy.” Haechan urges you, and you finally let go, the coil in your stomach snapping and letting pleasure wash over you. Your nails dig into Haechan’s arm so hard that you’re sure you’ll owe him an apology, and he hisses, the sound a mixture of pain and pleasure, as you whimper his name and “please” over and over again. “God, I want to feel that when I’m inside you so bad.”

“You can,” you say with a smile, propping yourself up on your forearms. “You can fuck me.”

“Fuck, don’t say that,” Haechan grunts, his expression tortured. “I can’t—”

“You can,” you urge, pushing yourself up onto your hands and bringing your face to his. “You don’t even have to fuck me entirely—you can just put in the tip.” When he opens his eyes and looks at you, his expression is defeated, hopeful, and delightedly vulnerable. “Come on, Haechan. Just the tip,” you murmur, your lips a centimeter apart.

He stares at your lips in a daze before nodding slowly. “Just the tip.”

He makes quick work of discarding his pants and pushing his boxers down so his length springs up and lightly slaps against his stomach, and he looks up at you and chuckles, the sound a bit bashful. “Stop looking at me like that.” 

You hadn’t realized you were looking at him in any particular way. “Like what?”

“Like you’re about to eat me alive.” Haechan mumbles, and you smile.

“So, the way you look at me all the time?”

“Yeah, like that.” Haechan grins cheekily and hovers over you, his hand moving to the base of his length and gripping it. When you don’t move and stay propped up, watching him with a challenge in your eyes, he pauses. “What is it?”

“I wanna be on top,” you reply simply, and he shakes his head.

“Too bad. I wanna be on top.” 

You stare at him defiantly.

He stares back at you stubbornly.

You raise an eyebrow.

He looks from your eyes to your lips and back up before he groans in defeat and sits against his headboard. “Fine.”

“Yay,” you say with a wide smile, shimmying out of your leggings and underwear and moving to straddle his lap. You wrap your hand around his on his length and slowly stroke him up and down. “You’re so big, Haechan.”

“Thank you, puppy,” Haechan coos teasingly, bumping his nose against yours as you position yourself on top of him, bringing the head of his length to your entrance. He rubs the tip against your folds, collecting your arousal to use as a lubricant. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, easing yourself down. To your disappointment, Haechan uses his fist as an obstacle to prevent you from sitting all the way down on his length, so you really do get just the tip. The stretch isn’t unwelcome at all, your walls slowly adjusting to his size, and you let out a shaky moan that he echoes when you clench around him. “Feels so good, Haechan,” you mumble, resting your forehead against his. 

“So fucking good, baby.” Haechan agrees, his fist slipping a bit further down his length and making him hiss. 

“Just a little more? It’ll be okay, I just need a little more,” you plead, pouting for good measure, and his face scrunches up in thought. “Please?” You tilt his head up and carefully slot your lips with his, kissing him slowly but deeply as your walls tighten around him.

“Just a little more,” Haechan gives in with a shudder, and you smile as you ease down further, Haechan groaning and thumping his head against his headboard repeatedly in distress. “Maybe a little more, baby.” 

You can barely hide your sneaky smile as you oblige, easing down on his length even more, and he moans weakly, his head tipping back. You lean forward and kiss his neck, sucking lovely little marks into his skin, and he grabs your hips with both hands, fingers digging into the skin as he tilts his head back more to allow you better access.

“More?” Your lips are pressed to his heated skin as you speak, and he groans before shaking his head.

“I can’t, baby. Feels like I’m gonna cum,” he grunts, and you whine as you squeeze around him, carefully studying his reactions. His hips hold you firmly in place so you can’t move further down on him, and his breathing is heavy, eyes screwed shut. “Fuck—do not do that again.”

“Do what? This?” You clench again, and he lets out a strangled groan, hands squeezing your hips harder as a warning. “What about this?” You lift yourself up, pulling off of him most of the way, and sitting back down. He swears so loudly that you momentarily hope no one else is home and his resolve visibly weakens, his hold on your hips loosening enough to let you slowly ease down all the way onto him, a relieved sigh escaping you as he shudders, a moan vibrating in his chest. “Just cum, Haechan,” you coax in his ear, nipping at the lobe gently. “You know you want to.”

“I’m not losing this bet.” He sounds determined, but even a fool could detect the waver in his resilience. 

“But doesn’t this feel so good?” You rock your hips forward onto him, and he exhales loudly through gritted teeth, nodding vigorously.

“Feels amazing, baby.” Haechan agrees, finally tipping his head forward to look at you. “Which is why you’re going to cum, and I’m going to watch.”

“Only way I’m going to cum is if you do it with me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Haechan snorts dismissively, and you raise an eyebrow, already pulling off of him. His eyes fly open and he yanks you back down onto him, realizing a moment too late what he’s done. Pleasure shoots through his body so strongly that you can practically track its movement through the shudders that travel through him, and he drops his head onto your chest in defeat.

“Are you gonna cum?” you ask, and he shakes his head hesitantly, making you sigh. “Then I’m leaving.” Before he can move to stop you, you push his hands off of you and pull off of him, toughening up to mask the strange, now empty sensation between your legs. 

“God, you’re evil.” He stares at you, aghast, and you shrug, pulling on your leggings and underwear. You climb off of the bed and grab your sweater from where it fell after hitting Haechan, and his eyes widen. “You’re seriously leaving?” 

“Yep.”

“At least—” he starts, and you hesitate as you prepare to pull your sweater over your head. “At least let me make you cum again,” he offers, wild eyes roving over you desperately. “With my mouth.”

“As tempting as that sounds,” you hum, pulling the sweater over your head and fixing it at the bottom, “no. You might pounce on me afterwards, and if you’re not cumming, it’s no fun.”

“Okay, fair. I definitely might pounce on you.” Haechan sighs, rubbing his chin as he watches you get ready to leave. “You’d let me though; you can’t resist me.”

“What makes you think that?” You laugh, and he looks at you with an unimpressed stare.

“I just seduced the fuck out of you,” he points out, and you barely stifle your laugh.

“Haechan.” You stare at him incredulously. “Do you seriously think this was all your idea?”

“Duh?”

You sigh, lifting up your sweater and shirt enough to show him your lacy blue bra. His eyes widen before they darken, and you roll your eyes as he wets his lips, shifting closer to you. You drop your shirt and sweater back into place and pull your leggings down just enough to give him a peek of your lacy underwear in the identical shade of blue. “I wore matching underwear today. This was never not my intention.” You fix your clothing again as he gapes at you in disbelief.

“So you used me for my body?!” Haechan exclaims, his horrified expression dropping in favor of a pensive one. “Why is that kind of hot?”

You pause in the middle of lacing up your boots, shooting him a concerned look. “I think the counseling office is still open if you wanna book a session.”

“Ha, ha.” Haechan laughs sarcastically, scooting to the edge of his bed. You look around for your bag, and he gestures to it sitting just by his bed. You go over to look through it for your headphones, and Haechan eyes you wordlessly as you do.

“Anyway, I have business to attend to.” You straighten up with your headphones in your hand and shoulder your bag, moving to leave. Haechan’s hand shoots out and grabs your arm, yanking you back to him so you’re standing between his legs. He’s readjusted his pants, you notice, and he’s staring up at you with a doubtful frown.

“What business do you have to attend to?” He pokes his fingers through the knitting of your sweater with a petulant expression. “If you say watching paint dry again, I swear to God—”

“Relax, it’s not watching paint dry.” You laugh and he chuckles, not looking up at you yet. “My business is being somewhere that’s not here.”

“You little—”

“Besides,” you continue loudly as if he hasn’t interjected, “I have my vibrator waiting at home to finish what you started.” Haechan stills, slowly looking up at you and scanning your face for any sign of a joke.

You give no such indication, and he closes his eyes and breathes in loudly through his nose, exhaling out of his mouth. He releases you, eyes gazing at you with an unreadable expression. “Yeah, you’d better get going.”

“Why the sudden change?” you ask curiously, and he shamelessly looks you up and down.

“I’m feeling…pounce-y.” 

“Okay, then!” You nod in understanding and step back, backing towards his door. “Have fun thinking about…whatever you gotta think about to make that go away,” you snicker, gesturing at the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Haechan grumbles bitterly, standing up and making his way over to his gaming chair. “See you later.”

“Bye,” you sing-song, wiggling your fingers at him in a wave. “I’ll think of you while I do it.”

“If you don’t get out of my room—”

“Okay, bye!” 

Friday, November 28th. 

You’re sitting at home pretending to do your homework when your phone lights up. You practically pounce on it, eager for a distraction, and look at your lock screen to see a text message from Mark.

mark: hey

you: hiii i’m bored

mark: me too 

mark: i’m at work on my lunch break

you: ohhh i’m “doing homework”

mark: hahaha that doesn’t sound fun

you: it’s not :/ this essay is due december 3rd though so i gotta get it done

mark: december’s so close wow

mark: i’m so happy november’s almost over

And with his last text, Mark gives you a very good idea of how you could best spend your time this afternoon. You root through your underwear drawer and take out one of your nicer sets of underwear and a bra, putting them on and putting your old t-shirt back on, ditching the sweatpants you were wearing. 

you: yeah

you: hey mark can you help me choose something?

mark: sure what’s up?

Actually, why not mess with both of them at the same time?

you: actually hang on one sec

[you have created a group chat.]

[you have added ‘mark’ to the chat.]

[you have added ‘haechan’ to the chat.]

you: hii i need your opinions on something

mark: why the group chat haha

you: it’s faster than texting you both separately :)

haechan: what’s up? i’m in class right now

A mischievous smile curls your lips as you take a picture of your outfit, making sure the t-shirt is high up enough on your thighs to make it clear there are no shorts underneath. 

you: should i wear this to sleep?

you: Attachment: 1 image

haechan: oh my god

mark: shit

you: or should i take the t-shirt off?

haechan: take it off.

mark: haechan shut up it’s still november

you: what do you think, mark?

mark: keep the shirt on 

mark: please. i’m still at work

you: :( but it’s hot in my room

haechan: yeah mark it’s hot in her room

haechan: take it off, baby

mark: dude do you like being blue balled or something 

You pull the t-shirt off and toss it on your chair by your desk, angling your body to take the most flattering picture of your lingerie set. When you’re satisfied with the picture, you send it to the group chat, giggling as you wait for their responses.

you: Attachment: 1 image

you: is this better?

haechan: you are so fucking hot

haechan: mark tell her how hot she is

mark: don’t tell me what to do haechan

haechan: i will not get cheated out of nudes because you don’t know how to give a compliment

you: it’s okay, haechan :p mark’s at work so he’s busy too 

mark: exactly. you look very attractive btw

[you loved ‘exactly. you look very attractive btw’]

[haechan disliked ‘exactly. you look very attractive btw’]

haechan: “very attractive” what a nerd

haechan: you should just text me now. mark’s ungrateful

mark: haechan shut. the fuck. up.

you: thank you mark :) should i do what haechan says?

haechan: yes do what haechan says

mark: haechan i will piss in your shampoo

mark: don’t you dare stop texting this group chat

you: oooh bossy 

you: that’s hot

haechan: god i can’t stop looking at those pictures baby

you: i’m glad you like them :) but i have another problem now :(

mark: what’s that?

haechan: what’s wrong?

you: i’m lonely :( i’m home all alone with no one to keep me company

mark: you’re killing me

mark: you’re actually going to be the death of me

haechan: ignore him keep talking

haechan: god i wish i wasn’t in class right now

you: yeah? where do you wish you were?

haechan: honestly? 

haechan: with you. on you. under you. in you for sure

mark: haechan in front of my lunch? seriously?

haechan: not my fault you don’t have game

mark: dude stop testing me

you: mark i wish you were here too :(

mark: oh my god don’t do this someone just walked into the break room

Another idea comes to you, and you angle the camera at your body again, this time starting a video. You cup your breast and squeeze it, humming contently before trailing your hand down your stomach and between your legs where you slip it into your underwear, sighing in relief right as you stop filming.

you: Attachment: 1 video

mark: no fucking way

haechan: oh my god

There’s a pause in their replies as they presumably watch the video you sent and you take the moment of silence to think about your next moves.

haechan: you sound so pretty

haechan: so fucking pretty baby

mark: i’m going to pass out i think

mark: why are you doing this???

you: because i like when you both pay attention to me. remember?

haechan: i can pay attention to you way better than mark can

mark: you can’t even pay attention to the damn class you’re in right now.

haechan: who gives a rat’s ass what Professor Park has to say when there’s a hot girl’s pictures in my phone??????

haechan: anyway. baby can i hear you again?

mark: dude i’m getting hard right now can you not 

you: stop calling me dude :(

mark: sorry

mark: what should i call you?

you: up to you—just not dude

mark: okay

you: or bro

mark: aw hell

While Mark takes the time to think, you send a video of your legs slowly spreading as your hand moves in your underwear, concealing what they undoubtedly want to see most as you play with your clit. When the pleasure starts to build, you let out a small whimper and speed your movements up, stopping the video right after your legs close around your hand reflexively.

you: Attachment: 1 video

haechan: god thank you so much

haechan: such pretty sounds baby

mark: babe please my dick is so hard right now 

haechan: join the club i’ve been straining against my pants for the past five minutes

you: pics or it didn’t happen

haechan: Attachment: 1 image

mark: i’m in public!!!!!

haechan: and you think i’m not??? 

mark: i can’t send a pic right now

haechan: pussy.

mark: fuck you

mark: Attachment: 1 image

You smile in satisfaction at the sight of both of their pictures. Mark’s picture is of him both gripping and trying to conceal the noticeable bulge in his pants, while Haechan is proudly gripping the base of his shaft, not even trying to hide himself.

you: thank you :) god you’re both so big

you: wish i had you both taking turns filling me up :(

haechan: why stop at taking turns?

you: i like the way you think

mark: okay this is fun and all but i need this boner to go down immediately i have to go back to work soon

you: okay! i’ll stop :)

haechan: WHAT

haechan: NO

haechan: i have like twenty minutes left of class please keep sending gifts baby

you: no i can’t :/ mark’s got a point—you shouldn’t be getting hard in public

you: it’s public indecency :////

haechan: fuck the public

you: fuck me instead

haechan: don’t tempt me

you: too bad it’s still november :( have fun not jerking off

mark: wait a minute

mark: you’ve been fucking with us on purpose all month haven’t you

you: ? idk what you’re talking about

mark: oh my god

haechan: wait mark’s right

you: :( okay you got me

you: are you mad at me :(

mark: no you’re just in for it

haechan: for once i agree with mark. watch your back baby

you: pfft watch my back for what? yOuR rEvEnGe?

mark: yeah just keep laughing babe. i gotta go back to work

you: i’m gonna go finish myself off then finish my essay. have fun with your boners! :)

haechan: you’re actually wicked

you: :(

haechan: it’s hot.

you: :)

You put your phone down and reach into your nightstand drawer for your vibrator, giggling under your breath as you think about the conversation you just had. Sure, they figured out you were making things hard—no pun intended—for them on purpose, and they’re probably going to get some sort of revenge, but you figure that’s a problem for Future You to handle.

 Tuesday, December 1st.

Yeah, so…it is now officially a problem for Future You to handle. 

When Haechan texted you asking if you wanted to get lunch with him, you almost agreed before remembering the last interaction you had when you sent him videos and pictures of yourself while he was in class.

When you declined, and his response was “smart girl,” you realized you may be in a bit over your head.

If that wasn’t bad enough, you caught Mark staring at you with an unreadable look from across the student center when you went to meet Lia for lunch (an hour after Haechan asked you, to avoid seeing him). When he started to make his way over to you, you grabbed Lia’s wrist and disappeared into the throng of people passing by.

If that wasn’t bad enough, in your last class you went to, you saw Haechan looking in the window, smirking when he caught sight of you. He brought his index and middle finger to his mouth, spread them, and wagged his tongue between them in an obscene gesture that had you gasping and drawing the attention of your seatmate. When you looked back at the window, he was gone, but your phone lit up with a text. 

haechan: found you :)

So you’ve spent the last half of your day hiding in your apartment, turning off your phone location and holing yourself up in your room.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?” Yeji snickers when you jump at the sound of the doorbell. Lia pats your hand comfortingly before she heads over to get the door.

“You didn’t see how they looked at me today!” you whisper-yell back at her, brows furrowing.

“No, she’s got a point,” Lia chimes in, drawing your and Yeji’s attention as she returns from getting the door with a package in her arms. After a moment, she continues, “I mean, Mark was…I’ve never seen him look like that.”

“Right?!” you exclaim, relieved Lia gets it.

“I mean, worst case scenario is that they fuck you. And if this month has been any indication, you clearly want that, so—”

“Yeah, but what if they team up and get all evil?” you counter, and Lia scoffs.

“Threesomes are rarer than people think. What are the odds they’re both gonna decide to team up and share you?” Lia replies, and you frown.

“Yeji, back me up here!” you whine, looking at her, but she raises both hands and walks towards the hallway. 

“I’m going to my room. As a wise man once said, ‘no fighting.’”

You and Lia pause. 

“Who said that?” Lia raises an eyebrow and you both stare at Yeji in confusion.

“Wyclef Jean.” Yeji answers. You and Lia look at each other and back at Yeji. “In ‘Hips Don’t Lie’ by Shakira?” she tries again. You and Lia stare at her blankly. “Forget it. No one in this house appreciates my genius.” She turns and heads off to her room and a moment passes between you and Lia before she stands up as well, walking backwards towards the hallway leading to her room.

“You’re safe,” Lia assures you. As she turns around and walks away, you hear her mutter, “probably.”

“Hey!”

About an hour later, the doorbell rings again.

“Can someone get that?” Lia calls out from the bathroom. “It’s probably my other package!”

“Why can’t you get it?” Yeji calls back.

“I’m getting dressed from taking a shower!”

You and Yeji emerge from your rooms for a quick round of rock, paper, scissors—which you lose.

“Damn it.” You roll your eyes and walk to the front door as Yeji heads back to her room. You open the door to see no one—but there is a package on your doorstep like Lia said. 

“This girl and her online shopping addiction,” you mumble, stooping to pick it up. You move to shut the door but it stops unexpectedly, a shoe jammed in the way. Your eyes widen. 

You know that shoe.

“Oh, shit.” 

The body attached to the familiar shoe shoulders his way past the door, Haechan standing in front of you with raised eyebrows and a smug smile.

“Oh, shit.” Haechan echoes you tauntingly, stepping towards you. You watch as Mark enters after him, shutting the door behind himself. 

You look at them.

They look at you.

You turn on your heel, drop the package, and make a run for it.

You take off down the hallway to your room as their rapid footsteps thunder after you. You can’t help but shriek in panic (and, if you’re honest, a bit of delight) as they chase you further into the apartment, your heart racing as you clear your doorway and turn to shut the door. 

One of them is quicker, however, and shoves his shoulder in the space, keeping the door from shutting. Unfortunately, the two of them are stronger than you, you learn very quickly as they force the door wide open and bombard their way into the room. 

Haechan wastes absolutely no time, stepping forward and shoving you none too gently onto your bed before climbing on top of you. It feels like there’s a scream stuck in your throat as he roughly pins your arms above your head with one hand, cupping your chin with the other. 

Bringing his lips to your ear, Haechan speaks slowly, stressing every syllable. “We’re gonna fuck the shit out of you.” Mark’s busying himself with sliding his hands up your thighs and yanking your shorts down your legs, and you wriggle under Haechan’s body, crossing your legs stubbornly.

“Yeji and Lia are home!” you exclaim, raising your voice in an attempt to get the attention of at least one of them. As if on cue, you hear the unmistakable sound of the front door unlocking.

“No, we’re not!” Lia calls out, and the door slams shut, the locks clicking into place.

“Oh, fuck.” You can barely get the words out before Haechan seals his lips over yours, kissing you deeply. 

“You are such a tease,” Mark grunts through gritted teeth, presumably giving you a taste of your own medicine as he wrenches your legs apart. The thrill of being chased with the inevitable ending of getting fucked stupid has you positively buzzing with excitement, some of that excitement manifesting as a slick little damp stain on the seat of your underwear. 

You move to protest, but Haechan slips his tongue in your mouth the second your lips part, your complaint melting against his tongue as he works the pink muscle against your own.

Mark’s chuckle lets you know he’s caught sight of the wet spot, and he presses two fingers against the stain, pushing the digits against you so insistently that you could almost swear Mark is trying to finger you with your flimsy underwear as a condom.

“Left us high and dry so many times last month,” Haechan scolds you, mouth still pressed against yours. “That wasn’t very nice of you.”

“Bet you had fun thinking about blue-balling us, didn’t you?” Mark asks, and you jerk your head to the side to break the kiss Haechan refuses to let up on, loudly sucking in a greedy breath before you speak.

“I did.” you retort, smiling sweetly. “I had some really good orgasms thinking about you two, too.” 

“You can be smug all you want,” Haechan chuckles, his lips sponging wet kisses down your jaw to your neck. “Let’s see how smug you are when we’re done with you.” His words excite you even more, an eager whimper falling from your lips as Mark withdraws his fingers from you and pulls your underwear to the side. 

You feel the warmth of his breath as he exhales against your core and it makes you that much more impatient, letting out a grunt of frustration as you buck your hips up towards his mouth. 

“You played with us all of November,” Haechan reminds you, pushing your hips back down. “It’s our turn to play with you.”

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” Mark groans as he rests what you assume to be his cheek on your inner thigh, depriving you of any sort of actual contact. 

“Oh, my God, do something!” you complain after a painfully long time of waiting. It was probably less than fifteen seconds, really, but you’re incredibly worked up and not in the mood to take your time.

“Haechan, shut her up.” Mark mutters, and Haechan chuckles. 

“Gladly.” he replies, and two fingers are pressing at your lips insistently. “Open up.” Any other time, you’d have the wherewithal to be embarrassed by how easily you comply with his order, but today, you’ll let it slide. Your lips part readily and your tongue lolls out, Haechan humming in impressed delight as he presses the pads of his fingers to your tongue. 

You suck on his fingers lazily, your eyes already glazing over with pleasure from having some sort of touch, and Mark takes the opportunity to attach his mouth to your core, dragging his tongue up and down your folds with an almost animalistic fervor. 

Your moan of surprise is muffled by Haechan’s fingers as he releases your wrists, pulls your shirt up past your breasts, and slips his hand under you to unclip your bra with surprising ease. He yanks your bra off with rushed, jerky movements, immediately latching onto your nipple and sucking at the stiffened bud, swirling his tongue around it.

“Shit,” you whine, muffled still by Haechan’s fingers, and he just chuckles from around your nipple, the resulting vibrations feeling heavenly. 

Mark’s tongue explores your folds as he groans, loud and pleased, the almost ticklish sensation making arousal flutter in the pit of your stomach. He tucks one of your legs over his shoulder, moving in so close that when his tongue prods at your entrance, his nose rubs against your clit.

Haechan flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue, his free hand groping your other breast and pinching at the bud until you hiss in pleasure and arch your back. He buries his face in your chest at the same time that Mark’s tongue pushes past your entrance and you squeal in delight, your hands both flying to their heads, tugging their hair to pull them closer to you.

Mark’s so lost in the sensation of his tongue peeking inside your core and the taste of you that he barely notices, a weak groan slipping out presumably without his knowledge. Haechan, however, responds by taking your nipple between his teeth and biting down ever so slightly until you try to squirm away, at which point he kisses it and switches to your other breast to repeat his earlier ministrations.

You’re on cloud nine at this point, your hips rolling up to get you closer to Mark’s mouth, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a growl and a moan as he throws one arm over your stomach to pin you in place, his tongue retreating from your core in favor of lapping at the arousal leaking from you.

“You like that, yeah?” Mark’s voice is throaty, thick from desire and lack of use, and when you whimper in affirmation, he lets out a breathless but cocky laugh before pushing two fingers into you, guiding the digits into you with no prior warning and carefully working you open as you get used to the slight stretch. “Yeah, I know you fucking like it,” he murmurs more to himself than you, his mind reeling with how his lips are still carrying the taste of you as he opens you up with his fingers, pumping and curling them rhythmically. 

Haechan sits up, moving off of you to kneel by your side, pulls his fingers from your mouth, a string of saliva webbing between his fingers and your lips, and chuckles smugly as he smears the spit over your lips messily. Your cheeks burn in humiliation when he swipes under your lips to display more spit on his fingers.

“Mark, she’s drooling.” Haechan says with a mischievous sort of glee, and Mark hums in acknowledgement, brows furrowed in concentration as he finger-fucks you. “You’re making a pathetic little mess of yourself and you haven’t even cum yet.”

Mark meets your gaze, grinning with bright eyes before leaning down to suck your clit into his mouth, rapidly flicking it with his tongue as his fingers pump in and out of you rapidly, curled just right to hit your most sensitive spot that has you crying out in pleasure.

Haechan pinches your chin and shakes your head from side to side abruptly, wordlessly diverting your attention away from Mark and back to him. “What do we say when we make such a mess, hm?”

“S-Sorry,” you gasp, clutching the bedsheets in your fist as Mark’s fingers speed up. 

“Are we gonna keep making a mess?” Haechan pouts condescendingly before shaking your head from side to side. “No, we’re not? Are you sure, puppy?” He nods your head and tuts disapprovingly. “I don’t think I believe you.” He taps your cheek with two fingers and you open your mouth. “Tongue.” You comply, laying your tongue out flat, and he leans over you and lets a string of saliva drip from his lips onto your tongue. 

You whine in desperation at the warm sensation of the spit, but let it slide to the back of your throat without swallowing. Haechan brings his fingers back to your lips, bringing his face directly in front of yours, and pushes them to the back of your throat, smiling in satisfaction when you choke and cough, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“What’d I say?” Haechan teases matter-of-factly. “So fucking sloppy.” He retracts his fingers again and studies your face with fascination as you swallow thickly. 

“Sorry,” you say shamefully, your eyes threatening to shut from the sensations Mark is causing between your legs, and Haechan lets out a small chuckle, leaning even closer to you.

“You’re lucky I like it messy.” He kisses you again, deep and hot and wet and filthy with sinful moans into your mouth that you inadvertently echo as Mark brings you closer and closer to a climax.

“Please, oh, fuck—I’m gonna cum—” you moan against Haechan’s lips, practically trembling with need, and Mark only offers a grunt in response, making lewd wet noises as he laps at your core with an almost feral determination you’ve never seen from him before. 

“Cum, puppy. Cum all over Mark’s fingers.” Haechan murmurs, punctuating his words with increasingly needier kisses, and you do cum—hard, as a matter of fact. In an attempt to keep your volume down, you bite down on your bottom lip so hard that you’re surprised it doesn’t break the skin. Haechan tugs your lip free just in time for you to cry out loudly when Mark doesn’t stop, fingers still fucking into you and mouth still on your clit. 

You push at Mark’s shoulders in a panic, but he barely budges, Haechan helping him out by catching your hands and holding them in place on the bed. Mark removes his lips from your core with a wet smacking sound and presses down on your lower abdomen with his free hand, heightening your pleasure practically tenfold, and you’re downright ashamed of the volume of the cry you let out.

“Stop,” you pant, squirming frantically under their firm hold on you, “that feels—oh, my God, I’m gonna—”

“Are you gonna cum again?” Haechan coos patronizingly, and you shake your head vehemently.

“Feels like I’m gonna piss myself or pass the fuck out—” You muster all your strength and wrestle one of your hands free from Haechan’s grip to grab the wrist of Mark’s hand that’s pressing on your lower stomach. “Oh, shit, please—”

“Keep going, Mark,” Haechan urges, watching you in awe. “Maybe she’ll squirt.” The gleam in his eyes both terrifies and excites you as a second, stronger climax builds inside of you. 

“I’m sorry!” You sob, your voice cracking. “I’m sorry for messing with you for all of last month!”

“I bet you are sorry.” Mark mutters through clenched teeth, darkened eyes rapidly shifting from your core to your face. “Too bad we’re not done with you.”

As if on cue, your second orgasm hits you and it takes everything in you not to burst into tears from the overwhelming pleasure. Your body exerts practically all of its energy by trying to curl in on itself protectively, your body still subconsciously fucking back onto Mark’s fingers in search of every last bit of pleasure you can draw from him.

Finally having mercy, Mark pulls his fingers from you and shakes his other hand free of your grip, standing up straight and watching along with Haechan as you attempt to recover.

“You didn’t piss yourself or pass out.” Haechan points out, brows furrowed to match his petulant frown.

“You sound disappointed,” you half-exhale, half-laugh, trying and failing to prop yourself up on your weak feeling arms. “I also didn’t squirt like you wanted.”

“The night’s still young,” Haechan responds, and you blanch, trying to sit up again in alarm.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious, actually.” Mark pipes up, and you look between them with a mix of fear and anticipation swirling in your stomach. “You blue-balled us, what…seven times? More?”

“All together, it was eight times between the both of us.” Haechan points out, and you let out a strangled shriek, shaking your head as hard as you can.

“For the love of God, if you try to make me cum eight times today, I think my clit will actually break off or something.”

“Relax.” Haechan lies down next to you, trailing the backs of his fingers down your body between your breasts and down your stomach. “We’ll make you pay it off, like a debt. You can pay in installments.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at you as his fingers draw closer to your throbbing core, and you smack his hand away, dramatically flopping over onto your stomach in a last-ditch attempt to protect yourself.

“You’re both insane,” you complain, words muffled by your faceful of pillow. “I can’t cum again.” 

“You can,” Mark says, sounding much closer than before, and two hands grip your hips, lifting you up onto your knees. “And you will.”

“Oh, dear Neptune,” you whine, bracing yourself on your elbows. 

Haechan snickers. “Whining and complaining, but you still got into position like a good little puppy.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you feel Mark positioning himself behind you on the bed, one hand pressing down on the small of your back to deepen your arch, and both males groan appreciatively.

“You look so good like this,” Mark grunts, pressing the head of his length to your entrance and rubbing it up and down your embarrassingly wet folds, collecting arousal to use as lubrication. 

Without so much as a warning, Mark grips your hip with one hand and guides himself into you, smoothly bottoming out. You both react strongly, your head falling onto your linked hands as a whine filled with need leaves your lips while Mark swears loudly, his fingers digging into your hip uncomfortably hard.

“Mark, you’re so big, holy shit,” you stammer, swallowing thickly as he pulls out slowly, almost entirely, before snapping his hips forward and resheathing himself inside of you. You cry out weakly, your walls flexing around his length, and Mark hisses with pleasure, repeating the motion as he gradually builds up an almost brutal pace.

“You’re so wet, fuck,” Mark groans, his words tapering off into an uncharacteristically smug chuckle. “This feels good, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, the sounds of skin slapping against skin almost drowning you out. “So good, Mark—”

Haechan, previously content with just watching for a moment, loses his patience, lifting your head up and urging you up onto your hands. He maneuvers himself under you, pulling his cock out of his sweats and stroking himself slowly as he watches you get fucked, your eyes glazing over with pleasure.

“Open,” Haechan says for the second time, guiding his length into your mouth and leaning back with a relieved sigh. “Suck.”

To be honest, you can barely focus on sucking Haechan off with Mark fucking into you with all the desperation of a man who’ll never fuck again. Mark’s always been passionate, but you’ve always experienced that aspect of him in a tamer sense of the word; this man you’re getting to know now is passionate—rough and sensual and animalistic, the way he’s taking you with dominant, forceful strokes.

Haechan’s derisive chuckle snaps you out of your reverie, your eyes refocusing on him, and he’s looking down at you with an unimpressed expression, an eyebrow arched.

“You’re drooling all over my lap, you know.” He almost sounds bored, and your face warms with embarrassment.

“S—” you start to mumble around his length, but he cuts you off.

“Sorry? Don’t be sorry. Fix it.” He gestures at his lap, and you blink up at him in confusion. He sighs and chuckles, the sound surprisingly fond given the circumstances. “You’re so cute, baby. Lick it up.” He murmurs, tone surprisingly gentle as he gives such a degrading order.

“Wh—”

“You heard me.” His gaze is intimidating, to say the least, and he looks down at his lap and length pointedly. “Start here.” He presses your mouth against the flesh of his upper thigh, the tip of your nose coming back cool and wet with your saliva. You avert your gaze shamefully and start to lap at the surprising amount of drool you managed to produce in such a short amount of time, but Haechan tuts disapprovingly, catching your attention once more. “Look at me when you do it.”

Your face burns hotter than you even thought it was capable of but you continue, maintaining eye contact and licking up your saliva from both of his thighs. He strokes himself almost lazily as you do, eyes heavy-lidded with desire and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on you.

Mark and Haechan seem to be silently fighting for your attention, because Mark’s thrusts escalate to an almost bruising pace while you’re tending to Haechan and he reaches around you to rub your clit, persisting even when you frantically try to swat his hand away.

“Be good, baby,” Mark murmurs distractedly as his hips continue to snap into yours. “Can you take it? For me?” As sweet as he sounds, it’s obvious to everyone in the room that you don’t have much of a choice. 

You’re at the mercy of both of them, and not only do they know, but they know you know, and they know you know they know.

“Okay,” you whimper quietly, and they both laugh.

“She’s learning,” Haechan coos, stroking your hair with his free hand. He taps the head of his length against your mouth, smiling when you take him into your mouth and start to bob your head, your tongue gliding against the underside of his shaft and helping you move up and down smoothly. “Just like that, baby.” Haechan groans, his head falling back as he pushes your head down until your nose is pressed against his lower abdomen and his tip prods at the back of your throat. 

You struggle to take it all in, but you finally manage, your throat reflexively swallowing around him, and he moans loudly, holding you in place as he thrusts up into your mouth with shallow pumps. You struggle to remember to breathe through your nose and tears prick at the corners of your eyes as he fucks your mouth, but Mark’s massaging of your clit helps distract you somewhat from the discomfort.

“You’re so tight,” Mark pants, “and wet, shit—”

The whine you let out is muffled by your mouthful of Haechan, who curses under his breath and thrusts up into your throat once more, making you gag around him and tap his thigh repeatedly.

“Too much?” Mark asks, sounding more amused than worried, and you shake your head.

“No, it’s not too much.” Haechan muses, finally pulling you off of his length and watching you cough and gasp for air. “Puppy loves taking cock—don’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan when you catch your breath, your voice throaty from sucking him off, and he smiles in satisfaction.

“She’s so good at it, too,” Mark grunts appreciatively, sliding his hand up your body to cup your breast. “Like she’s made for it.” 

“I’m close,” you whine as a warning, finding it oddly arousing that they’re essentially talking about you like you’re not there. 

“Good—I’m gonna cum so deep inside this pretty pussy,” he pants, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge until you’re toppling over it, a broken cry falling from your lips as your eyes shut tightly, and you can feel his length throbbing within your walls as he pumps his cum into you. Mark shudders out a moan and kneads your asscheeks before pulling out of you and coming to lie on his back beside you, spent. 

Haechan takes Mark’s place, kissing up your thighs, over the curve of your asscheeks, and up your back until his lips are at the spot just behind your ear.

“You get to make one choice tonight, baby.” Haechan murmurs in your ear, running his hands down your sides to grab your hips. “You want me to eat you out like this? Or do you want to sit on my face?”

“Like this,” you mumble, barely audible and slurring. Haechan and Mark chuckle.

“What was that?” Haechan asks again, clearly taunting you.

“Haechan, please?” you sniffle, and he hums fondly, massaging circles into your hips with his thumbs. “Eat me out like this?”

“Okay, baby,” Haechan coos, moving back from your ear until you can feel his breath against your thighs and fanning over your core. “Such a pretty, pretty pussy. Even with Mark’s cum leaking out of it,” he murmurs, a gush of your and Mark’s cum leaking out of you as if on cue. 

Mark positions you on your hands once more, your body already starting to feel weary, and places himself under you where Haechan was a moment ago, slowly stroking himself. His brows furrowed, his gaze is dark as he watches your bottom lip tuck itself between your teeth in anticipation for Haechan to do something.

Haechan practically buries his face between your thighs, lapping at the arousal leaking from you. “Messy puppy’s even messy down here,” he grunts, wet noises sounding out from behind you as he licks and sucks at your glistening folds. 

The feeling of his tongue moving between your legs both tickles and thrills you, the wet muscle gliding over your skin with ease, and Haechan pulls back slightly, making you whine and push your hips back towards him.

“You’re so greedy,” Haechan teases, landing a smack to your ass cheek. “Be patient.”

“Don’t wanna,” you whine, looking up at Mark in an attempt to garner sympathy. “Please?”

Mark’s already furrowed brows furrow even more, something you didn’t think was possible, and he tilts your head up by the chin to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s domineering, forceful, even, with his tongue stroking against yours needily as you whine into his mouth.

As Mark kisses you senseless, you finally get to see why Haechan stopped in the first place. A warm, wet sensation travels down from your asshole and drips down to your clit, the bead of saliva threatening to drop onto the bed. Haechan groans at the sight while you groan at the sensation, Haechan’s mouth quick to follow the path but in reverse, licking up from your clit and through your folds to prod the tip of his tongue at your entrance.

You whimper and jolt forward, almost biting down on Mark’s lip, and Haechan chuckles, spreading your lips apart with two fingers and teasing his tongue around your entrance slowly. 

“Please,” you pant, breaking the kiss momentarily to beg for relief. “Please?”

“What, puppy? You like that?” he mumbles, pausing his ministrations to tease you. When you nod, he chuckles, cooing, “I know you like it; you like when I tease your little hole like that? Yeah?” You can only cry out in response, and he flicks his tongue over your entrance before speaking again. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Haechan—” you plead in a desperate exhale, and he groans at the sound of your name leaving his lips, lurching forward and pushing his tongue past your entrance and into your core, not stopping even when you gasp and jolt away from him.

He yanks you back into place and smacks your ass once for good measure, warning you, “Don’t move until I say so,” before pushing his tongue back into you. He grabs your hip with his free hand, pulling you closer to his mouth, and Mark moves with you, his head dipping to suck at the base of your neck while you mewl in delight.

It takes approximately three guided rocking movements of your hips for you to realize that Haechan’s making you fuck yourself on his tongue, the wet muscle satisfying but a fraction of your need to be filled.

“More?” you beg, and Haechan drags his tongue up from your entrance to your asshole, swirling his tongue around the puckered rim as you cry out and reach back to swat at his head. “I didn’t mean—”

“Just wait,” he mumbles distractedly, flicking over it as you gasp and tremble. “See, puppy? I know what I’m doing.” Your hand slowly moves back to propping you up and both Mark and Haechan laugh, the sounds darker than usual and far more mischievous. 

“You like that, hm? Like when Haechan eats you out from the back?” Mark grunts against your neck, and you look down to see he’s fully hard again, his fist now slowly pumping his length. “So dirty,” Mark teases. “You’re just a dirty little thing,” Mark murmurs, “aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you agree needily, willing to say almost anything if it means you get to climax. “Haechan, I need—”

“I know what you need.” Haechan silences you by letting another fat drop of saliva drip onto your asshole, his lips wrapping around your clit as he pushes two fingers into your entrance and traces another finger around your asshole. “You need all your holes filled, don’t you, puppy?”

“Mhm,” you can only whine as he starts to fuck his fingers into you, the finger at your asshole pushing in with the spit as a makeshift lubricant. It’s less than ideal, the stretch of his finger feeling foreign as he pushes it in up to the first knuckle, but when he starts to move it in and out of you at the same pace his fingers fuck your core, you can only gasp in surprise, clutching onto Mark for something to brace yourself. “Holy shit—”

“Yeah, that’s good, isn’t it?” Mark chuckles, tilting your head towards him. “Look at me; I want to see that pretty face when you cum.”

“God, fuck—okay,” you agree breathlessly, nodding as you struggle to keep your eyes on his. Haechan speeds up in his finger-fucking of both your holes, releasing your clit from his lips to go up and spit on your rim again to prepare you as best he can to add another finger. “Oh, shit!”

“You can take it,” Haechan mutters determinedly, both sets of digits pumping in and out of you quickly. “Can’t you, baby?”

“Mhm,” you moan, nodding, and Haechan presses a kiss to your ass cheek, a silent encouragement to hang in there. “Gonna—oh, God—gonna cum—”

“Good, baby,” Haechan urges, voice surprisingly sweet as he coaxes you to your climax. “Cum for me, baby, cum all over me.” He’s practically spewing nonsense at this point, too caught up in his lust to make any sense, lips refusing to part with your clit as he urges you closer and closer to your peak. “Want to feel you cum all over my fingers, baby, all over my face—gonna lick it all up when you’re done—”

You cry out loudly, now grateful to be home alone, as your climax hits, your mind and body toppling over the edge gracelessly as you succumb to the bliss coursing through you. You whimper Haechan’s name, then Mark’s, then Haechan’s again, then you honestly don’t know what starts coming out next; you can only make out the word “fuck” leaving your lips again and again—and again.

“So fucking pretty when you cum,” Mark groans, pressing kisses to your slack-jawed mouth. “Prettiest fucking girl.”

“Gonna look even better with both of her holes stuffed full of cock.” Haechan grunts, and your eyes widen.

“Both—”

“Remember everything you put us through,” Haechan reminds you with a devilish grin. “You owe it to us at this point.” As if to drive his point home further, he presses his spit-slicked thumb to your rim, chuckling when you jolt away reflexively and move to sit on your heels. He presses you back down forcefully, your ass back in the air and face squished against Mark’s lap as he pushes his thumb past the rim of your asshole, moving it in and out carefully.

Mark groans at the sensation of your face pressed to the underside of his length and shamelessly lets his shaft rub against your lips and forehead, a tremor of pleasure traveling through his body as you whimper at the sensations you’re feeling at both ends. 

Haechan licks around where his thumb disappears into you, chuckling when you gasp with pleasure. 

“Haechan, hurry up—I want to fuck her again.” Mark grunts, and Haechan scoffs, moving his mouth away from you.

“You’re so impatient.” Haechan grouches as he pulls his thumb out carefully, guiding you up so you’re sitting on your heels. “I get her ass.”

“Wh—no, you don’t!”

“Mm, yes, I do.”

“Dude, seriously—”

“Can someone please just fuck me?” you plead quietly, and they look at each other, exchanging words non-verbally with their eyes. “Please?” 

“Don’t worry, puppy,” Haechan coos, coming closer and kissing your neck sweetly. “We’re gonna fill your needy little holes right now.”

“C’mere, pretty.” Mark urges, guiding you into straddling his legs and hovering just over his length as he presses the head of it to your entrance. He coats his length in your arousal, Haechan’s saliva, and whatever’s left of his own cum before urging your hips down so he slowly fills you up. When you let out a whine, he chuckles, pulling you down to kiss him, murmuring, “I know, baby. I know.”

“My turn,” Haechan chuckles mischievously, pressing his tip to your rim, both males holding you in place when you instinctively flinch away. “Don’t run from it, baby.”

“Mm—!” you cry out, voice muffled as Mark kisses you, as Haechan pushes the head of his cock into your ass, the feeling both incredibly foreign and unbelievably satisfying. “So much,” you gasp out, pulling away from Mark to look behind you as Haechan kneads your ass cheeks in what you assume is a comforting gesture.

“You can take it,” Mark encourages you with a husky voice, kissing down your neck to distract you from the discomfort.

“I can’t,” you moan, shaking your head.

“You can,” Haechan urges, “and you will.”

“God, fuck—” You hiss, scratching your nails uselessly against your bedspread.

“Don’t worry, baby—you’re gonna take this cock deep inside you, and you’re gonna fucking love it.” Haechan grunts through gritted teeth as he pushes himself further inside of you, his length reaching places inside of you no one’s ever been before. The cry you let out is somehow deeply overwhelmed yet so full of need for more that it would startle you if you were currently of sound mind and body. “Just like that, puppy.” he chuckles, his words ending in a groan as he bottoms out in you, hips pressed against your ass.

“Doing so well, baby.” Mark praises you in a whisper. “So fucking good.”

“You gotta relax, puppy.” Haechan leans over to speak against your ear. “Otherwise, it’s never gonna feel better.”

“You can move,” you say breathlessly, closing your eyes tightly in anticipation as you try to relax your muscles.

Mark lifts you up slightly and carefully pulls himself out to the tip before thrusting back into you with a groan. Haechan grips your hips tightly and starts to pull out, the feeling making you keen desperately for more. When he bottoms out again, you reach back to grab his hand tightly. 

“Faster,” you manage to get out, and Haechan snickers. 

“That’s more like it.” He pulls back out and thrusts into you as Mark starts building a quick rhythm that has you stuttering out whimpers. The sounds only increase in volume when Haechan does the same, the pleasurable blend of sensations of both your holes getting fucked filling your mind with a thick fog of bliss.

“So fucking big,” you whine, both of them chuckling.

“Who, baby?” Mark asks.

“Both of you—”

“Good answer,” Haechan praises before reaching around and rubbing at your clit, persisting even when you yelp in protest and try to smack his hand away. “Relax,” he reminds you, sounding smug as he tweaks the hypersensitive bud between his fingers.

“God, she’s so fucking wet,” Mark moans, his every syllable punctuated with a powerful thrust into you. “Feels like I’m gonna slip right out.” He reaches between your bodies and tugs at your nipples, kneading your breasts and running his thumbs over the sensitive buds.

“Please—oh, my God—” you beg, not even sure what it is you want.

“Good, yeah?” Mark teases, and you nod vigorously.

“So fucking good,” you pant, “feels so full.”

When he pulls you back down for a kiss, his hand returns to kneading your breasts as he teases your tongue with his. Haechan’s thrusts are rough and fast and deep, the pleasure forcing tears out of your eyes. His slick fingers press down harder on your clit and you nearly collapse, your eyes rolling back.

“Fuck, do that again, Haechan,” Mark groans against your lips. “She got so fucking tight—”

“This?” Haechan asks, fucking into you harder as he presses down on your clit again.

“Yeah—God, you’re so fucking tight—” Mark kisses away your tears even as fresh ones fall before sucking at a spot on your neck that makes you reflexively tilt your head to allow him more access.

“You like that, baby?” Haechan taunts you, audibly grinning as he speeds up the circles on your clit, and you cry out weakly, a teary whimper leaving you as more tears fall. “I know you do,” he grunts breathlessly, driving his hips into you harder. 

“God, I’m gonna—” You can barely get the words out as your climax approaches, your hips fucking back onto Haechan’s length.

“Cum, baby.” Mark tugs particularly hard on your nipple, eliciting another cry from you as you hit your peak, your body attempting to curl in on itself as the pleasure courses through you. “That’s it, fuck, you’re so good.” He sounds slightly whiny and you can’t even bring yourself to help him out yet, the aftershocks of your orgasm still traveling through your body, buzzing through your veins.

“Mark,” you say, slurring slightly as you bring your lips to his ear. “You can cum,” you urge gently, and he inhales sharply. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you so good,” he moans, his thrusts growing more unpredictable before he thrusts upward, filling you completely, and spills his cum into you as his length throbs inside of you. His eyes close for a moment, Mark in a daze before he collects himself, opening his eyes, and pulls out of you gingerly. His gaze zeroes in on your core as his release and yours start to drip down your inner thighs, his face visibly spent while his eyes still hold that wild glint.

“Gonna fuck you so full of cum, puppy.” Haechan half-moans, half-growls as he pulls you up so your back is to his chest. Sucking at a sensitive spot on your neck, his hands grope your chest, kneading your breasts and rolling your nipples between his fingers. “Fill you so fucking good, it’ll be dripping out of you for ages.”

“God, Haechan, please cum—” you plead, fresh tears welling up in your eyes from how much pleasure you’re feeling. It’s almost more than you can take, one of Haechan’s hands returning to your clit even as you try your best to jerk away.

“You’re gonna come one more time for me, yeah?” he coaxes, and your eyes widen.

Underneath you, Mark chuckles at the panic on your face, watching you two lazily with a dopey smile on his lips.

“Haechan, I don’t wanna cum again,” you beg.

“Don’t want to, or you think you can’t?” Haechan presses, and you let out a small choked sob.

“I can’t!”

“You can—watch,” he answers simply, and you sniffle loudly. “Aw, come on; don’t be selfish, puppy,” he grunts, kissing up to your ear, his length pumping into you rapidly. “Give it to me. Cum.”

When you climax again, your body feels almost unbearably warm, your jaw dropping in overwhelming ecstasy, and your muscles go slack as you slump against Haechan’s back, distantly aware of Haechan’s thrusts slowing as he starts to cum inside of you. He keeps pumping into you at a slow pace, warmth flooding between your legs as more of your arousal drips down your legs.

“So fucking good, baby.” Haechan mutters through gritted teeth as his fingers dig into the flesh of your breast so hard that you whine. He pulls out of you carefully, your limbs immediately giving out as you practically melt onto the mattress beside Mark. Your breath comes in ragged inhales and exhales, Haechan gently flipping you onto your back and apologetically kissing the sore spots on your breast where his fingers dug into you. Satisfied with the attention, you tiredly push his head away and he lies down next to you, sighing deeply with relief.

“How do you feel?” Mark asks softly.

“Great,” Haechan answers, and Mark sucks his teeth.

“I wasn’t asking you.” 

“I feel…” you start, and they both crane their necks to look at you. “Like you’re both still insane.”

“Maybe we are,” Haechan laughs tiredly. “You did a good job; almost paid off your debt entirely.” 

“Please don’t bring up that stupid debt,” you complain, covering your ears.

“Also, turns out that puppy likes it in doggy style,” Haechan chuckles, “who would’ve thought?”

“Haechan?”

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Stop being a menace for one second. You’re making my head hurt.” 

“I can imagine more than your head hurts,” Mark says sympathetically, squeezing your hand. “Are you, like, physically okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble sleepily. “I’m covered in spit and sweat and cum, though, so I really want to shower in a sec.”

“Here’s an idea—we go shower and Mark and I will go get some of Jeno’s weed for us to smoke. That’ll make you feel better.” Haechan suggests, and you pause to think.

“You know,” you muse, “that’s a good plan.”

“Why, thank you,” Haechan says with a proud smile. “I am known for my intelligence.”

“No, you’re not,” you and Mark snort in amusement.

“I’m a genius!” Haechan retorts defensively, and you scoff.

“Who said that beside the voices in your head?”

“Do you want Jeno’s weed or not?” Haechan challenges.

You’re quiet for a moment. “Fine, you’re a genius.”

Haechan smiles in satisfaction. “That's what I thought.”

(“I can’t believe they really made it the whole month,” Jaemin mutters in surprise.

“I can’t believe I really have to give up all my weed,” Jeno laments. “All 5 pounds of it—”

“Five fucking pounds?! Jesus Christ, are you a dealer or something?” Lia stares in horror at Jeno, who just waves her off.

“We all do what we gotta do to get by.” Jeno answers, shrugging. “I smoke weed, Jaemin eats snacks—Lia schemes against her friends—”

“Hey! When I told Mark and Haechan she was home on December 1st and had her get the door, I did that for her own good. The three of them were dancing awkwardly around each other for a frustratingly long time.” Lia defends herself, and Jaemin raises an eyebrow.

“Right. Now look at them. Oh, wait. You can’t because they’re off fucking like rabbits. Again.” he drawls.

“I regret nothing.” Lia turns her nose up in a huff.

“Well, I regret hearing Haechan’s dumb joke about the new monthly challenge they’re doing.” Yeji rolls her eyes, gathering the attention of everyone else. “He didn’t tell you guys?” 

“No,” they chorus.

Yeji sighs. “It’s Dick Her Down December, apparently.”

“That poor girl.” Jaemin winces. “It’s only the 5th.”

Jeno shrugs. “Somehow, I think she’ll be alright.”)

the end!! i hope you enjoyed :) please consider leaving positive feedback & thank you for reading!!

#haechan smut #lee haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #donghyuck smut #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct dream smut

[stariekis]

let me show my love for u.

🛋️ pairing : 엔하이픈 ot7 + gn!reader . genre : fluff . cw : physical contact, kisses, skin ship .

— synopsis : things enhypen members would do to show how much they love you

— note : nothing to add bbies just hope that you enjoy this post <3 reposts and feedback is appreciated as u might know by now ⟡ 🤲🏻 thank you so much mwah !

heeseung : holding / hugging your waist

he is such a waist hugger god ... his arms and hands were made to hold you and you only and he proves it every single time. no matter where you guys are or with how, his arms would be around your waist not letting you go any moment. he does this in a kind of possessive way but only when there's no one he knows around, most of the time he does it unconsciously he is so used to it that now he can't get his hand off you (and you don't want that ~)

jay : holding hands / his wrist

jay has pretty big hands in my opinion so he would have his hand intertwined with yours all the time, giggling every time when he looks at how his hand covers yours completely. but, if he is holding something and both of his hands are occupied the would ask you to hold his wrist, he just want you hands on him every second.

jake : hands on the back pockets of your pants

this can be seen as a very possessive action but it's not the (only) reason why he does that. for him it's a good way to keep you close to him and he loves to keep you close as much as he can so, whenever you guys are out he would keep his hand in your pocket. and also .. why not showing every person that came across you two that you are his only ~

sunghoon : holding pinkies

i don't see sunghoon as a very affectionate person, he is better with words than physical contact. that's why i choose this ) : is a very cute and discrete way to hold hands and i know that he would love to walk around with your pinky finger intertwined with his, a small smile on his face every time he look at your hands.

sunoo : hugs

he is like a big teddy bear u guys ) : sunoo would be hugging you all the time and he wouldn't let you go until you have to go to the restroom like for real ... and he wouldn't control himself even if u guys are in public, he would be walking with you with his hand around your figure or, if you are out with the members, you will probably be on his lap with his arms around you waits. he don't care at all he loves hugging you <3

jungwon : kisses

neck kisses, cheek kisses, forehead kisses, every single type of kisses are his favorite. he loves having his lips pressed against you all the time, he swears that he could spend hours kissing your lips or your chubby cheeks. and the other way around ! he loves when you kiss him, specially when you kiss his dimple ) : is his and your favorite feature of him ~ he feels so loved whenever you or him kiss each other <3

ni-ki : back hugs

he is tall tall and we all know that ... he would surely take advantage of his height, hugging you from behind while resting his chin on top of your head. he does it just as an affectionate gesture or to tease you a bit, always lovingly obvious 🫷🏻 he thinks that your high difference is so cute ) : he would also leave kisses on your nape and caress your arms with his hands.

#— my work 📑 #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen sfw #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen headcanons #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enha #enha headcanons #enha scenarios #enha fluff #enha sfw #enha drabble #enha x reader #enha soft thoughts #enha soft hours #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #ni ki

[kitten4sannie]

ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏʙᴏʏꜱ4ʏᴏᴜ.ᴄᴏᴍ

ᴘᴇᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ/ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ ➠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ

pairing: camboy! yunho x fangirl! reader (fem)

genre: camming au, fluff (lowkeyy), humor, smut

summary: dedicating your hard earned money and free time to your favorite camboy goodboy_99 comes with a lot of perks.

w.c: 3.9k

warnings: switch! yunho, switch sub leaning! reader, there’s some sub 4 sub vibes in this, monster cock yunho, yunnie’s got piercings, exhibitionism/voyeurism, masturbation, edging, use of a cock ring/golden retriever butt plug >:3), teasing, pet names (baby, kitty, kitten, etc), reader calls yunho puppy/pup and he loves that shit, dirty talk, lots of praise, some degradation, kissing, toy usage, nipple play (f/m), squirting, breeding kink, rough unprotected sex, cumming in mouth, snowballing, these losers lowkey fall in love <3

a/n: shoutout to felix @yourfatherlucifer for allowing me to build on your camboy yunho fic idea :3 you're such a genius for that concept <3 so yeah there’s not enough whimpering baby boys with monster cocks in fics i swearrr (if you know of any pls send them my way ><) so i decided to offer my contribution,, more like cumtribution am i right?? *crickets* anygays i had way too much fun with this one skjdhf you'll see what i mean >3< i hope you enjoy ~~

Now Playing:

ᴄʏʙᴇʀꜱᴇx ʙʏ ᴅᴏᴊᴀ ᴄᴀᴛ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

You've never missed a single stream from your favorite camboy goodboy_99, always willing to pull up his stream after a long day at work no matter how tired you were, never opposed to cranking one out in his honor. You sent him a countless amount of coins throughout your obsession, picking out new options from his personal menu, never tired of seeing him act them out with a cute little smirk on his face and your username gracing his pretty pierced lips. 

At first, you were a silent viewer, just concerned with getting yourself off, but then somewhere along the line, you began to leave lots of comments in the live chat, though they were more akin to sexts, and for some odd reason, Yunho paid more attention to yours, instead of the numerous other ones. Maybe it was because you were his number one fan, or perhaps, just perhaps, it was because he was into you too, but you assumed that was just your delulu mind at play. 

Regardless, here you were, sitting with your legs spread in your computer chair, a vibrator on your clit, and your eyes glued on the bright screen that was showcasing your beloved camboy in a similar position: his thighs spread open in his gaming chair, his pretty flushed face contorted in pleasure, fucking himself dumb with a purple pocket pussy, the base of his thick cock constricted with an even thicker cock ring. 

“Aaah, haaah…W-who made me put on this cock ring, huh? It won’t let me cum, guys, c’monnn, lemme cum,” Yunho whined out, a few beads of sweat dripping past his dyed black and red bangs down to the leather dog collar around his neck, giving his webcam a small pout, begging his viewers with his big brown eyes. 

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜɪɴʏ ᴏᴍɢ

➵ ʜɪᴍʙᴏ4ʏᴏᴜ: ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴅʀᴏᴏʟɪɴɢ. ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ

You brought one hand to your keyboard, pressing the rounded side of the large vibrator directly into your clit with the other, making you shudder and jolt, your fingers rapidly pressing into the keys. You’ve been in this exact position so many times before, you knew you couldn’t possibly cum until you saw Yunho fall apart in front of your straining eyes. 

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ᴅᴏ ᴜ ᴡɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋ3 ᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ʀɪɴɢ ᴏꜰꜰ ɴ0ᴡ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ?

Yunho giggled softly at your typos, running a hand through his sweaty hair, causing it to fall back down onto his forehead, spreading his thighs just a little wider. “Yes, fuck, I’m going to cum all over myself for you, baby.” He pressed his fingers into his aching balls, feeling how sensitive they were, before he slowly slid the cock ring up and off of his leaking cock. “I’ve been edging myself for so longgg, god, it's gonna feel so good.”

➵ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏʟᴜᴠʀ: ɢᴜʏꜱ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ'ꜱ ꜱᴏ ʀᴇᴅ ʀɴ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴜᴍꜱʜᴏᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴜꜱ

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ꜰʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ʜɪᴍ ʟᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ,, ʜᴇ'ʟʟ ɢᴇᴛ ᴄᴜᴍ ᴏɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴇɪʟɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪɴ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟᴍᴀɴ ᴄʀʏʙᴀʙʏ

Yunho arched his back off of the chair, holding the vibrator near the base of his cock, the vibrations sending endless waves of arousal through his jolting body, the silver chain links hanging from his collar rattling against his drool-stained chest, soft, staccato moans echoing from his drooling mouth, on the edge of ecstasy, but not quite getting there. “Fuck, m’ so close, so close, so close…”

About to catapult into ecstasy yourself, you found it in you to help Yunho reach his much-needed orgasm, rapidly clicking a few options on the webpage. It was the least you could do after watching him edge himself in various ways for your own entertainment. 

Yunho heard a familiar jingling tone emanate from his computer’s speakers, preventing his eyes from fully rolling back into his skull, instead bringing his attention to his bright monitor, his cock beginning to pulse, a few more beads of pre-cum spilling down the shiny, bright red tip. 

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ¹⁰⁰⁰ ᴄᴏɪɴꜱ

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ᴘʟꜱ ᴄᴜᴍ 4 ᴍ3 ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏ 

Yunho received a hefty dono from his favorite viewer, got a cute request from them, and got called puppy all at the same time? It was simply too much for a baby boy like him to handle, especially after being teased and edged by his dear audience for so long. “Cumminggg, oh my god, m’ cumming so hard,” Yunho moaned out, dropping the vibrator from his cock, just letting it hang at his side, his thighs jolting each time his veiny cock twitched up into his heaving abdomen. “F-uuuck…” Long spurts of milky liquid splattered onto his straining abs, some shooting across one of his pierced nipples, some of it even gracing his pretty, glistening parted lips. Yunho didn’t even realize he managed to cum inside his own mouth until he tasted the bitterness on his tongue when he swallowed his drool down. “Holy fuck, you guys, I just swallowed my own cum…I should’ve just aimed for my mouth the whole time…Mm, remind me next stream.” 

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɪ’ᴍ ɪɴꜱᴀɴᴇ

➵ ꜰᴀɴʙᴏʏ4ᴛᴇᴇᴢ: ᴄᴀʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ᴘɪᴄᴀꜱꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴜᴍ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋᴋᴋᴋᴋ

The visual and physical stimulation you were providing yourself proved to be almost lethal, dropping your now silent vibrator onto the carpet below, hunched over in your chair, resting the side of your sweaty cheek on your cat paw mouse pad, your twitching, tingling fingers gently pressing into your keyboard. “He looks so pretty…” you whispered to yourself, hearts forming inside your glistening eyes.

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ʟᴜᴠ ᴡᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴜ ᴄᴠᴍ ʏᴜɴɴɪ3 ,, ᴜʀ ꜱ0 ᴄᴜᴛᴇᴇᴇᴇ

Yunho slid his long, slender fingers through the puddles of cum splayed across his chest, bringing them up to his lips, sucking it off of them, his hooded eyes accompanying his curled lips, looking like a mischievous puppy. “If you love seeing me cum so much, Kitty, then you should see it in real life, doncha’ think?”

“Huh?” you reacted, suddenly sitting up straight, your eyes and mouth wide open, wondering if you had nutted so hard, you were having auditory hallucinations. 

While licking the remaining saltiness from his lips, Yunho’s smirk grew wider. “You heard me. Since you’re my biggest supporter, I thought I’d fly you out to join me in a stream. Whaddaya think?” He just sat there, looking smug as hell, confident in himself and his decisions, his heart pounding away inside his chest. 

As you sat there in disbelief, factory resetting in silence, Yunho turned his attention to the rapidly moving live chat, giggling a bit. “That's a pretty hot idea, huh, guys? Wanna watch us fuck each other stupid?”

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɪᴍ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʙᴜꜱᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ

➵ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏʙᴏʏꜱʀᴜɪɴᴇᴅᴍʏʟɪꜰᴇ: ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴛ

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ᴋɪᴛᴛʏ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴘᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜɢ ᴏɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʀ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ

The rest of the chat had an overwhelmingly positive response, further egging on Yunho’s insane idea and your urge to pack up your bags right then and there. You still weren’t sure if you had fallen into a coma or if this was your reality, but regardless, you hit enter on your poor keyboard. 

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ᴜ ʙᴛʀ ɢᴇᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏ 

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ɪᴍ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ 4 ᴜ ♡

You landed a critical hit on Yunho’s heart when your highlighted comments popped up on his screen, causing him to cover his face and spin around in his chair, tiny giggles escaping his throat. He peeked at his webcam through his fingers, whining, “Hurry up, Kitty, I'm waiting!”

࿏࿏࿏

Taking a flight over to him wasn’t too difficult, but what was incredibly difficult was standing with your luggage outside of Yunho’s apartment in an outfit you took hours deliberating over, left to your own devices, which meant that your brain would go over all the reasons why he would send you home as soon as he opened the door. 

Before you could get even more sweaty just from standing there, the door swung open. Yunho’s face suddenly froze, his eyes growing wide, resembling marbles and beginning to sparkle. He just stood there staring at you, taking in all of you, wanting to etch it into his memory. 

“H-hi, Yunnie, I’m Kitty, well, Y/N, heh,” you squeaked out, dropping your bag on the ground to give him a shy wave, your lips quirking up into a nervous smile. “Y-you look even cuter in person.” 

“You’re the cute one here, silly.” Yunho giggled softly, immediately stepping past his doorframe to pull you into a hug, burying you in his oversized dual-colored sweater. “I’m so happy I can finally meet you, Y/N,” he whispered near your ear, rubbing your lower back with his large hand. “We’re gonna have so much fun together…” 

Once he pulled away, you almost melted into the floor, your knees feeling a bit weak, still able to give him a big, goofy smile. “So much fun,” you echoed, your flushed face matching Yunho’s bright red ears. 

࿏࿏࿏

After spending a bit more time together just hanging out around Yunho’s apartment and taking time to talk about whatever, including a discussion about your sexual experiences and limits, your walls seemed to drop all together, realizing he was just as chill, and just as perverted, in real life as he was during his streams. Your heart still raced over the smallest things, but that was for a different reason. Your body was practically vibrating as well, but that also had a different cause, a far more explainable one. 

“So,” Yunho began, gently running his thumbs over your knuckles, licking at the piercing on the side of his bottom lip. “Should we go live now?” He squeezed your hand slightly, leaning in to drown you with his intense gaze. “Are you in the mood to play, baby?” 

You couldn’t possibly tell him that you were essentially the human embodiment of Niagara Falls, having to squeeze your thighs together as much as you could to keep your arousal from dripping down your inner thighs past your short skirt. “I really wanna play with you, Yunnie,” you replied, gently placing your hand on his knee, your fingers moving past his ripped jeans to make contact with his warm skin. 

“Then, let’s play, Kitty.” Blushing and returning your sweet smile, Yunho reached up to caress your cheek lovingly, before standing up to turn his webcam on and start up a new stream. 

Yunho sat down in his spacious chair, making sure his pretty guest of honor stood in front of him for the time being as his faithful viewers showed up in the chat in large waves, eventually holding his hands out near you like he was presenting a prize. “Here she is, everyone!” He gave the webcam a playful smile past your shoulder, coaxing you to sit comfortably inside his large lap, his hand going up to pet your head, which you nuzzled into, the small bell collar he put on you earlier jingling a bit. “My Kitty finally arrived for playtime.” 

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ᴛᴡᴏ ʜᴏᴛ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ??? ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ???

➵ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏɢʀʟ: ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ꜰɪᴠᴇ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅꜱ ɪ’ᴍ ꜱᴜɪɴɢ

“Now, c’mon Kitty, show everyone how excited you are to be here,” Yunho purred near your ear, reaching around you to grab your thighs, gently pulling them open as you spread them fully out yourself. 

With your thighs trembling, you revealed the bright pink vibrator you’ve had lodged inside you for the past hour, your cunt already so slicked up with arousal that the toy threatened to slip out of you if you didn’t keep clenching around it. “So full…” 

“Do you see, everyone? See how good I treat my guests?” Yunho asked his audience, making a downwards V over the top of your cunt, rubbing his fingers along your folds, making sure to stimulate your clit at the same time. “I watched her shove this toy up her cute little pussy earlier…She’s been walking around my apartment with it inside ever since like a good little slut.” 

➵ ᴅᴏɴᴛʟᴏᴏᴋᴀᴛᴍᴇ: ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ɪᴛ ɪ’ᴍ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴘᴘɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴡᴋ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴍᴍᴍ

Moaning at the feeling of Yunho pulling the toy out and slipping it back inside your hole, you leaned your head back into his chest, his stiff cock pressing into your ass, your hands moving back to play with his hair. “Wanna touch you too, puppy…” 

“I know you do, Kitty. You’ll get to put your hands all over me in a second, I promise.” Yunho nuzzled your cheek, giving it a gentle lick that made you shiver, pulling the toy out agonizingly slow, inch by inch, drawing a long moan from your lips. He slipped both of his arms around you, bringing his hands down to spread you open with his thumbs, your clenching cunt on display for every single one of his viewers to drool over. “Look at this pretty kitty’s hole, everyone. So pink, so wet, so ready to use, huh?” 

His follower and viewer count hit a sudden spike, making the both of you giggle to each other. Yunho then lifted one of your thighs up onto the chair, spreading his own thighs open a bit just in time for a golden retriever tail to become visible fo his viewers, his ass comfortably filled with one of his favorite plugs. “Kitty watched me put this in after she filled herself up. It slipped in so easily too, and my sweetheart got so wet, but I told her she couldn’t cum until you guys got to see. Aren’t I the best, guys?” His chat sped up a little faster, the majority of people talking in all caps, making Yunho chuckle.

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɢᴜʏꜱ ɪ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏ ɪ ᴅᴏ 

➵ ᴅᴏɢʙᴏʏ: ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴇᴅɢɪɴɢ ᴜꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ

When you whimpered and nudged him for his attention, Yunho nodded knowingly with his cheek against yours, nuzzling it. “Oh, I know, baby. You’ve been so good letting that toy fill you up for so long, but you need more. Is that right? You need puppy’s cock in your breeding hole, don’t you?” he teased you in a low, pouty voice, rubbing your wetness around your clit with one hand, using his other hand to push the vibrator in and out of your clenching cunt, going faster and faster until you began to cry out.

“Yes, puppy, please, I can’t take it…!” you voiced desperately, jolting against Yunho’s body, about to scream when he pressed the rounded end of the vibrator to turn it up even higher, your thighs beginning to shake. “Oh my god, i’m gonna…”

“Cum for me, Kitty, cum for everyone….” Yunho squeezed your clit roughly, simultaneously jamming the vibrator into you at such a velocity that you screamed, your arousal starting to pour out of you, the clear liquid getting onto Yunho’s thighs and the chair below. Yunho groaned at the sight, using his hand to rub your juices around just to hear how wet it was, moaning, “Oh, fuckkkk, look at that, Kitty’s making such a mess for us.” He brought his dripping fingers to his drooling mouth, eagerly sucking your cum off of them. “Did that feel good, kitten?”

“So good…” Feeling Yunho’s rock-hard cock throbbing against your lower back, you squirmed around against him, turning your head to look at him, still panting softly from your ear ringing orgasm. “Wanna make you feel good too, pup, with my breeding hole…”

“Oh, yeah?” Yunho nosed your neck, licking a stripe up your neck past your collar to make you shiver, looking you straight in the eye afterward. “Wanna squeeze around me, baby? Feel how big I am inside your tiny little cunt?”

You reached up to caress his hair, gently tugging on it, your eyes full of desperation for your favorite streamer. “Please. Want you to stuff me with your cock. Wanna make you cum from how tight I am for you.”

Yunho unknowingly began to rut against you, leaving streaks of pre-cum on the small of your back. “That’s my slutty little kitty…so eager to be filled by her puppy…” He reached back around you to spread your hole open once again for the camera, looking at his webcam with hazy, hooded eyes. “What do you think, chat? Should I fuck this kitty full of my pups?”

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ɴᴏᴡᴡᴡᴡᴡᴡ

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ɢᴇᴛ ɪɴꜱɪᴅᴇ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴅɪᴄᴋ ᴇxᴘʟᴏᴅᴇꜱ

Unable to take Yunho’s teasing anymore, you quickly stood up, wobbling slightly, before you sat back in his lap, this time facing him, the both of you struggling with his joggers to pull his cock out, already grinding yourself along it when it was finally free, the slippery ridge of his silicone cock ring supplying you extra pleasure. “Need you, Yunnie,” you whimpered, pulling at his collar to bring his parted lips onto yours, your tongues joining in the middle. 

Yunho moaned into your mouth, swiveling the chair to the side so that his viewers could still get a good look at your shared desperation, his cock starting to throb steadily against your slick cunt when you began to suck on his tongue — though the whining and whimpering noises Yunho was known for didn’t start until you began to rub and flick at his pierced, hardened nipples from underneath his sweater, his hands diving underneath your own sweater to grope and pull at your tits, eventually moving to your ass to squeeze it, your hips lifting up slightly so that he could tease your entrance with his leaking cockhead. 

You moved your hips back slightly so that you could reach down, grabbing at the base of his tail and moving it around experimentally until Yunho began to gasp for air, figuring you were rubbing against his prostate. “Does that feel good, puppy? Am I hitting the right spot?”

“S-so good, makes me wanna fuck you, kittennn, wanna fuck you dumb on my cock. Can I, please?” Yunho suddenly begged you, fucking himself back on the plug that you continued to maneuver around inside him, not hesitating to give you the most adorable, lust-drunk pouty face you’ve ever witnessed in your life. 

“Yes, puppy, please, please, please fuck me,” you answered just as desperately, ruffling his soft, slightly damp hair, letting go of his tail to wrap your arms around his neck.

Yunho quickly swiveled the chair back to its original position so that your ass and throbbing cunt was on full display from behind, using two fingers to spread your open for him, slowly guiding his thick cock inside you inch by inch, until he completely bottomed out, resulting in a blissful sigh from the both of you. “Look at you, kitten, so fucking full of my cock. I’m gonna fuck your brains out,” he groaned, his large hands encasing your hips, immediately jack hammering himself into you like he was using a fleshlight, your joined bodies creating a lewd symphony of slick sounds.  

Yunho rammed himself into you so roughly, you couldn’t do anything else except take it, bouncing on his monstrous cock over and over again, the tip of it repeatedly forming a bulge inside your stomach that only Yunho could see, throbbing inside you from the sight of it. “So good, it’s so good, Yunnie, love your cock…!” 

“Love your wet cunt, Kitty, love how tiny you are, like you’re gonna break just from getting pounded into by my puppy cock,” he moaned back, gripping your ass so hard, your flesh squished through his strong fingers, still driving you down onto his cock like you were made for him, for his pleasure. “Makes me wanna stuff you full of my litter….”

“A-aaah, but puppy likes being edged with his cock ring, doesn’t he? It feels so much better like this, yeah?” you huffed out, reaching behind you to squeeze one of his intensely swollen balls, receiving a high-pitched, pleasured moan from your playmate.

“Feels so fucking good, Kitty,” Yunho agreed, mindlessly kicking the speed of his thrust game into hyper-drive, mindlessly fucking himself into you so roughly, so sloppily, his cock almost slipped out a few times, requiring him to hold you down by your hips. “Your pussy’s clenching so hard around me, baby, it’s so tight for me…Feels like you’re gonna cum…”

“Yeah, gonna cum, puppy, feels too–aaah-good…!” 

Yunho locked his arms around your waist, his hips never faltering, his veiny length rubbing along your inner walls in just the right way, making you cry out. He pressed his lips onto your ear, slipping his hand in between your sweaty bodies to rapidly rub your stiff clit, purring, “Good girl, cum for me, kitten. That’s right, baby, squirt on my cock…” 

When you came, you came hard, your arousal leaking out around his slippery cock, your body jolting as each wave of pleasure coursed through you, resting your head on his shoulder, his sweater slipping down it. Once you recovered, Yunho pressed his lips against yours, whispering words of praise, among other things that his audience couldn't hear until you slowly lifted yourself off of him. 

“I think it’s time to make our good puppy cum, don’t you think, guys?” you asked his webcam, walking around Yunho’s chair to stand behind it, running your hands down his body, reaching for his twitching cock, slipping your closed fist up and down it until you made Yunho whimper pathetically, tears forming inside his eyes, causing the already rapidly moving chat to go completely ape-shit. 

➵ ᴡʏɴɢ: ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴇᴅɢᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴍᴏʀᴇ, ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴄʀʏ

➵ ꜱɴ: ɴᴏᴏᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ʙᴀʙʏ ᴄᴜᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜɪᴍꜱᴇʟꜰ ʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇꜱ ɪᴛ :(

You continued to pump his reddened, leaking cock, replicating his incredibly needy facial expression, pouty lips and all, murmuring, “Awww, poor puppy wants to cum so bad, huh?” 

Yunho bucked his hips up into your hand, trying to fuck himself into your closed fist, his abs and muscles straining from his desperation, his ass clenching around his favorite plug, more drool beginning to leave his lips and dribble down his neck to his dog collar. “Please, let puppy cum, wanna cum inside my mouth like a dirty boy,” he babbled out, tears overtaking his vision once the pain of edging himself for so long began to overtake the pleasure on his almost orgasm. 

“Mm, then be good and cum, puppy,” you replied sweetly, suddenly slipping the pre-cum drenched cock ring off of Yunho and bringing it up to his mouth, watching him lap up the clear liquid off of it without you even having to ask. “Such a naughty boy, so good for us, aren’t you?”

“So good, Kitty, m’ so good,” Yunho echoed, running his hands up and down your forearms for his own comfort, practically panting like an actual dog would, his bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat. “Gonna cum so hard…” 

“Cum so hard for us, Yunnie, come on, that’s it….” Leaning yourself over his shoulder, you used both hands to milk his long, heavy cock, driving loud, whiny moans out of him, along with spurt after spurt of milky cum, watching the way he caught the stream of it on his lolled-out tongue. Yunho tilted his head back, looking up at you with teary, glazed-over eyes, making a small noise, clearly wanting to share himself with you. 

Without hesitation, you pulled him by the collar, pressing your mouth onto his, his tongue slipping inside it almost instantly, lazily swapping his hot cum and saliva with you, the both of you swallowing the combination down with ease afterwards, your hands caressing one another’s sweaty faces. After a shared gaze of affection, Yunho pressed a kiss onto your nose, making you blush harder than you had the whole night. 

When the post-nut clarity hit him, Yunho sat up a bit in his chair, giving his webcam a variety of hearts using his hands. “Thank you all for tuning in for this special stream, everyone! Love you!” 

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴀᴡ ɢᴏᴅ

➵ ᴘᴜᴘ: ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴀᴘɪꜱᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ

➵ ᴡʏ: ʙᴇᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴇᴀᴛ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜᴛᴄʜᴇʀ

➵ ꜱɴ: ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ ♡

As soon as Yunho turned his webcam off, he brought you into a tight, comforting hug, nuzzling the side of your head with his own. “You did so good, Y/N…That was amazing, this is amazing…” 

You hugged him back just as tight, your heart fluttering, wondering if it was all just physical between the two of you or if there was something else blossoming behind the lens of the webcam. “I think so too, Yunnie…I just…” You began to pull back, causing Yunho’s happy expression to drop a bit. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N? You didn’t have fun?” he murmured, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. 

“No, it’s not that! I had tons of fun, Yunnie, the most fun I’ve had in a long time…” you reassured him, ruffling his damp dyed hair as gently as possible, smiling at him with your eyes. “I just don’t want to overstay my welcome, you know? So I should probably–”

“No, no, noooo,” Yunho repeated whinily, pulling you back into his arms, nuzzling your neck this time, enveloping you in his comforting scent and warmth. He eventually pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead onto yours, gazing at you, as if he was letting you take a peek at his beating heart through his eyes.  “Stay…?” 

You swallowed harshly to keep your heart from bubbling up into your throat, warmth searing into your cheeks, murmuring, “Are you sure?” 

Yunho bit at his bottom lip, lowering his head slightly so you didn’t have to see just how red he had become, though his bright red ears betrayed him. He eventually looked back into your eyes, swallowing down his nerves. “Y/N, what if…what if told you I was your number one fan too? What would you say then?” 

With your heart hammering away inside your chest, you pulled yourself together just enough to softly press your lips against his. You smiled up at him afterwards, caressing his cheek, your eyes twinkling with adoration for your favorite puppy boy. “Does that answer your question? Or do you need another?”

Yunho pouted cutely, just about ready to melt inside your arms. “Another.”

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