#fawn~ 🧼

[itsbeeble]

NO BITCHES?

SUMMARY: When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

GENRE: smut, fluff, crack, mild angst

PAIRING: Eric Sohn x afab!reader (ft hak, sunwoo, sunwoo's gf, and sangyeon)

WC: 10.5k (there go my plans of proving Ally wrong)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: um... okay so virgin!eric, kinda dom!reader, eric's a fucking loser, reader kinda makes fun of him at first for being a virgin, reader kinda teaches eric about everything from kissing to uh...yeah, dry humping, kissing, making out, oral (m and f receiving), eric cums in his pants, eric plays fnaf, um...public making out? public fingering?, multiple orgasms, eric goes from little virgin boy to I TOLD YOU WE NEEDED MORE GLITTER real fast, sunwoo slander, sunwoo's annoying in this idk, eric's a dumb gamer boy who needs desperate help from the boy who concussed his gf (cough sunwoo), slight bit of miscommunication?, eric cries (ummmm dacryphilia?), reader also cries (again...dacryphilia?), edging el oh el, sunwoo and. reader know the importance of CONSENT, i think that's all the important stuff

A/N: I'm never gonna beat the allegations... ally will always think i bias eric. Anyway, happy birthday to my little munchkin princess eric sohn 🥰🥰

Eric was practically shaking as he approached you. Scratch that, he was definitely shaking but he could blame the ripples covering the drinks in his hand on the pumping base. It thrummed in his veins, or maybe that was his pulse steadily increasing when he locked eyes with you.

You. His gorgeous, intelligent, perfect…

Lab partner. You were his lab partner and at that very moment, nothing more. At least, not in your eyes. Eric, though? He was enamored by you. The way you laugh, the teasing grin when he does something wrong and you scold him, the way your body looks in that dress—

“Hi.” You look away from your friends and face him, a curious look on your face. He’s starting to feel warm. Was it warm in here? He thinks he’s starting to sweat, and can feel something drip down the back of his neck.

“Hi…?” Your hands are empty, and Eric forces himself not to jump up and down with glee that he doesn’t have to make the excuse of having two drinks for himself. 

“I’m— Do you—” He stutters, and heat begins to spread from his neck to his cheeks as your friends giggle. You just smile. A kind smile that has his body slowly relaxing the more he looks at your face. “Do you wanna drink— I mean— fuck, I meant do you want a drink. Not— not do you wanna drink— I mean that could—  that is also a question, but—”

More laughter from your friends and Eric suddenly thinks he’s gonna throw up all over you, your dress, and his nice white button-up shirt that he’d forced Sangyeon to iron for him. 

“Thank you, Eric.” You say, reaching for the cup in his left hand. Your fingers brush against his, and his knees begin to wobble visibly. Your smile disappears into a concerned frown, and suddenly Eric’s attention is on your lips. He isn’t paying attention to his surroundings anymore. Can’t find himself caring that your friends are still laughing at the scenario, nor that you shoo them away. 

“Eric?” Your hand waves in front of his face, effectively catching the boy’s attention. “Are you okay?”  

“Yeah!” Eric says it far too quickly, knowing immediately that you don’t believe him. Fortunately, one of his many charms is that he’s very good at lying to people. “I’m perfectly fine. Why do you ask?” 

You giggle, and it’s the sweetest sound that he’s ever heard.

“You just— you seem a little uncomfortable right now.” You lean close to him, scanning his face under the flashing lights. You can hardly make out his features under the colors. Blue, purple, red, white, green, yellow. All the colors under the rainbow covered his face and changed every few seconds. When they flashed white, you swear you can see a flush in his cheeks. 

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” He leans toward you with a sudden surge of confidence that has your heart pounded a bit. “Why would I ever be uncomfortable around the most beautiful girl in the building?”

And there it is, folks, you think. Your eye twitches, something so subtle that Eric fails to catch it. The irritation, the disappointment. 

“Ah, I see.” You grimace, and Eric begins to panic again. 

“What— did I upset you?” He asks, and you roll your eyes. 

“Eric, if you wanna get into my pants you’re gonna have to try better than that.” 

Eric’s heart drops to the floor, his face flushing even more as he begins to panic. He stutters, he tries to backtrack, he tries to explain himself. You, however, are hearing none of it. Not a single word that comes out of his mouth reaches your ears. 

“Stop, Eric.” You snap and his mouth snaps shut. “Just…Just stop.” 

You set the cup he’d given you down on the table, and he stares at it dumbly while you storm away to find your friends again. The amber liquid in the cup sloshes with the base echoing around it and the loud noise of partygoers around him. 

He watches it spill over the lip of the cup, and then sets his own cup down next to it, turning around to return to the party but the weight of crushing rejection sits uncomfortably on his chest. 

It’s two days later when you see Eric again. Monday morning, an 8AM Physics lecture that no one wants to be in. Two weeks into the semester, and almost twenty people had already dropped the class. He walks in with a black hat covering his head, and a white tee shirt covering his torso. It’s certainly not clothing suitable for the cold air of early February, but he’d been unable to do his laundry over the weekend due to the parties on Friday and Saturday and the neverending clean-up that occurred on Sunday. 

He spots you, tucked well into the second row, and his eyes light up. Yours, on the other hand, narrow. You keep your gaze on him while he makes his way up to you as quickly as possible, hoping to have a chance to talk to you before the lecture begins. 

“Hey,” he grins at you, gently setting his bag on the chair to his left and turning to face you. Your eyes are still narrowed with suspicion. “How was your weekend?” 

How was your weekend? It’s as if the both of you hated that question; one of you cringing with something close to disgust, the other with something like horror. Is he stupid?

“It was fine,” you tell him curtly. Eric frowns, leaning back in his chair when you turn your gaze to the front. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He blurts out, and your shoulders sag. Was that the wrong thing to ask? Did he do something wrong?

“Did you seriously just ask me that?” You hiss out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He opens his mouth to speak, but he has a hard time finding the words. What is he even supposed to say? What if you think he’s an asshole for not knowing what was wrong? What if you never smile at him again?

“I— honestly I really don’t know!” You scoff and Eric sits up, leaning forward on the table to get a better view of your face. You can see the pout, see the way his eyebrows knit together in what you can only assume is faux confusion. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he did.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You look at him fully now and watch the way his body recoils from the words. Hurt, confusion. No anger. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Eric Sohn angry in the two years you’d shared classes with him. 

“What— what did I even do?” The professor walks in, and he hushes his voice. “I can’t fix things if I don’t know what I did wrong!”

“That’s your own damn fault then, isn’t it?” You click your pen, and Eric shuts up. You almost feel bad, carefully watching as he takes out his own notebook to begin taking notes. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the lecture, and you feel a pang of regret in your chest. Maybe he really doesn’t know what he did wrong, you think, nibbling on your lip in thought. No, there’s no way he doesn’t know. He’s the smartest guy in the room, no way does he not know what— 

You glance at Eric again, this time turning your head to fully look at him. His blond hair falls over his eyes, even with the hat covering his head. His shoulders are hunched, his hand moving so quickly over the lined paper so that he can at least try to keep up with your professor. For a moment, you think about Eric Sohn. About the frat boy who had been nothing but kind to you since the day you met. About the boy who once gave you notes far more detailed than you’d ever written during the week you were sick. About the boy who—

No, you shake your head and begin to write down more equations you know you’re going to have to ask Eric about later. He’s a frat boy. All he wants is a good fuck and then he’s gone. 

But why did he seem so hurt when you spoke to him so rudely? When you turned him away not once, but twice within the past three days. 

You liked him, you really did! He was kind, thoughtful, and he was always helping anyone he could. He never refused to help anyone, even if it was a subject that he didn’t know that well. Had you gotten it wrong? Was he just trying to talk to you and you had responded—

Your pen clicks again as you give up on the notes, and you lean back in your chair to squint at the whiteboard in front of you. 

Talking with Eric Sohn was inevitable, but it was only a matter of how long you could avoid the topic—

“I want all of you to pair up. These will be your partners for the midterm project.”

Eric’s gaze turns to you uneasily, tilting his head in question. You bite down hard on your tongue, fighting every urge inside of you to turn around and ask the girl behind you to be partners. 

Fuck, how could you say no to those eyes?

Your room is brighter than Eric thought it would be. When you originally invited him over to study that night, he had been terrified. Was your apartment going to be almost falling apart? What if it was really nice and he broke something? What if you killed him and stuffed him into a dumpster?

Fortunately, none of those things were necessarily true. Your building wasn’t falling apart, thankfully, although it was arguably nicer than any other off-campus apartments and you could still choose to kill him. 

It was nice, though. It was a two-bedroom apartment that you shared with your friend Eunseung, one full bathroom and another half-bathroom, a decent kitchen, and a nice-sized living space. According to what you told him in the last semester, the rent wasn’t too awful either. 

The walls of your bedroom were yellow, but not an ugly shade of yellow. It was pastel, not quite bright enough to be harsh on the eyes but not dark enough to make it hard to see. You’d lined bookshelves up to the wall, most filled with books but some with photos and plants and music albums. You had a small desk in the corner, and your bed was aligned with the center of the back wall, a light green comforter covering white sheets. 

“I’m surprised we’ve never studied here.” You hum, but your tone is distant. Eric laughs dryly and sets his bag down on the ground next to your bedframe. 

“You prefer the library,” he points out. “The lighting is easier for your eyes.” 

For a moment, you pause in your motions. How did he—

“How did you know that?” You ask, turning to face him. You can see the flush in your partner’s cheeks, and he ducks his head so that the baseball cap on his head covers his eyes. 

“I just— you would always squint when we studied at the library or— or at the TBZ house. I just…I figured that was the reason.” I pay attention. That’s what you knew he meant. 

Why does a boy who only wants to get into your pants care so much about you?

“Oh.” You dig your laptop out of your bag and take a seat on your bed, leaning against your pillows with your legs straight out in front of you. Eric joins you, sitting crosslegged at the other end of the bed. He’s careful not to get too close, shifting away from you when you adjust your position. Your skirt flares out to the side, ruffled by the blanket and exposing your thighs a bit more. Eric has to force his eyes to remain on his laptop. You notice, but there’s no anger with it. You choose to not even acknowledge it. 

“So what do we wanna do for our project?” His eyes flick over to you, and you shrug. 

“We could build something?” You suggest. “Maybe, like, a paper airplane launcher?” 

He hums, tilting his head back and wrinkling his nose in thought. 

“What about something with electromagnetism?” You nod slowly. 

“That could be good. We could keep with the idea of building something and make an electric motor with things people have lying around their houses?” 

Eric grins at you. “Now we’re thinking. We’ll have this done in no time at all.”

Eric was right. 

The brainstorming and research portion of the project had been completed within a few hours, and the two of you had cast your laptops to the side to search your apartment for things to use. Paper clips, some sort of copper wire (you had no idea why anyone would have a copper wire hanging around their house. Eric, however, said that there were several around the frat house), wood, some batteries. Anything that the two of you could use. The only thing neither of you had was a staple gun.

“It’s getting late,” Eric notes with a quick glance toward your living room window. You hum in response, lying back on your couch with your phone in your hand. “I should get going soon.”

Your eyes flick to him, but he isn’t looking at you. “Do you wanna stay the night?” 

Silence. A long moment of silence, and then Eric looks at you with a look nearing scandalized. 

“What?” You sit up, draping your arms over the back of your couch and getting a better look at him. 

“You heard me.” His face is bright red, similar to the night of the party. 

“Why would— why would I want— I mean th— thank you for the offer but— but I can’t stay the night. Why would— where would I even sleep? I don’t have clothes to sleep in!” He throws every excuse he could possibly think of at you, adding to your amusement. He had no clothes, where would he sleep, you had classes earlier in the morning than him, it would be weird if he stayed the night. It was cute. 

You’ll admit it, Eric was cute. The puppy-like look in his eyes, the pout on his lips. Everything about him was cute. It almost shocked you how fast you were able to get over the anger that he only wanted to sleep with you. In fact, you weren’t sure that’s what he even wanted from you. Only one way to find out, right?

“Eric,” you finally cut off his rambling and his voice stops, leaving your apartment oddly quiet. “Come here.” 

He listens, slowly slinking toward you. Eric is nervous, you can tell. Every step he takes, every twitch when you shift your body. It fills you with pride, or maybe some other emotion. 

Eric stops when he’s right in front of you, just a few steps from the back of the couch and both of you (really just him) are all too aware of how his crotch is level with your mouth. 

“I wanna tell you something,” you beckon him toward you with one finger and he slowly, albeit a bit awkwardly as well, bends down so that his face is just above yours. Heat radiates off his face, so hot that you may start sweating soon. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

His Adam’s apple bobs, his hands gripping the couch for dear life, short nails digging into the cheap fabric. 

“Sure.” Eric’s voice is hoarse, and it makes you smile. 

“I kinda like you, Eric.” 

Your lips press gently against his. Entirely experimental, just enough to see what he would do. His body seizes up, his breath hitching in his throat. He doesn’t move against you, doesn’t tilt his head or part his lips. He sits there like the lead in a lame drama where the main characters seem like they couldn’t be less into each other. You begin to pull away from him, fearing you’d made him a bit uncomfortable, but a whine is pulled from his throat when your lips part from his. 

You look at him, but he’s already looking at you with wide, bulging eyes. 

“Eric…” You have a sneaking suspicion that you know why he didn’t kiss you. “Have you…has no one ever kissed you before?”

“What?” The boy’s voice is shrill, and you know the answer. “Of— of course, I’ve been kissed? What kind of question is that?” 

Your lips quirk up. “Are you sure? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you know.”

“What— why would I be embarrassed?” His frustration and denial are cute. Adorable, really. 

“Because you’re a sophomore in college and have been kissed once— by your physics partner, no less.” You smirk playfully and then gasp, pushing up and toward him suddenly. He reels back, nearly falling backward with the suddenness of the motion. “Eric Sohn! Are you a virgin?”

Eric looks like he’s about to cry from embarrassment, and he turns away from you completely. You grimace briefly and climb off the couch to come around and stand in front of him. He avoids your gaze by looking above you, around you, at the floor and the walls. 

“Eric,” your voice is gentle now. He doesn’t move, nor does he make any noise. He’s like a deer in headlights. “Eric, can you look at me.”

“No,” he denies, crossing his arms over his chest. You feel a bubble of amusement rising in your stomach. “You’re just gonna make fun of me.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” You promise, your hand grazing his forearm. Eric’s eyes lock with yours, and for once you choose to hold his gaze. “Now, can you tell me the truth so I can help you?” 

“Help me,” he echoes with an air of offense. “I don’t need help!”

“Eric, you’re a sophomore in college who’s in the most popular frat on the campus. Add onto that your personality and your good looks, you should be getting bitches left and right.” You say pointedly and the tips of his ears flush red. Or, rather, as red as they can when his whole face is burning up from your prior insinuations. 

“What if I’m just waiting for marriage?” He counters. “Or— or the right person?” Your lips draw into a thin line, knowing that statement was bullshit. 

“We both know you wouldn’t be hard as a rock right now if that was the case.”

Eric’s heart plummets to the ground, his eyes following it to check for himself. To his complete and utter dismay, you weren’t lying. Pressing against the front of his cargo pants was the solid outline of his member, straining against the seam and begging to be released. 

“I— I am so— so sorry,” he stammers, his hands yanking the edge of his sweatshirt down to cover himself, his hands remaining carefully placed over his crotch but he knows it’s too late. “I didn’t— I don’t— oh my god I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, holding tightly onto his sleeve so he can’t run for the door. “I knew you wanted to sleep with me, it was kind of obvious.”

“No I— I don’t want—” Eric frantically shakes his head. “I don’t— I can’t— I don’t wanna sleep with you— I mean I do, I really really do, but not— not like this—”

The hand on his sleeve comes up to grab his cheeks, squeezing them together until his lips are pushed out and he can’t speak anymore. 

“You can admit it, Eric.” You hum, and with your hand still on his face, you begin to walk him back and around to the side of the couch. He yelps when you push him back, letting go of his face and watching him fall over the arm and land with an oof on the cushions. “You can admit that you wanted to fuck me from the moment you saw me.”

“But I—” He choked on spit before he could finish talking, eyes widening into saucers when you climbed onto the couch, crawling up to sit on his lap. He’s sitting up straight now, but the risk of falling back again is high with nothing to support his spine. Your hands just rest on his shoulders, not digging in or moving to grasp anything else. They stay there, waiting for him to make the first move. 

“Tell me if you don’t want me to continue, Eric.” His hands are trembling, his pulse higher than it’s ever been. He slowly rotates his body, placing his feet firmly on the ground and resting his spine against the back of the couch so that he doesn’t hurt either of you. 

“I want—” his voice cracks. 

“What do you want?” Your lips are on his neck, featherlight kisses being left in your wake and knocking the breath out of him. He’d never felt like this, he’d never been touched like this save for his own hand in the darkness of his room with an animated video on loop on his laptop screen. At his lack of response, you pull your lips back from his neck. Eric lets out a loud whine at this, his left hand coming to the back of your head to lightly try and push you back into him. 

“Keep doing that,” he gasps out, and you smile. 

“Don’t you want me to kiss you?” You ask him, and another whine tumbles from his lips.

“I— fuck, I do— god, why are you doing this to me?”

“I just wanna know what you want, Eric,” you’re teasing him and you know it, but you’re pretty sure Eric might fall to pieces if you don’t give him something soon. “Can’t you tell me what you want?” 

“Just—” he leans his head back, and you watch the rapid bobbing of his throat as he tries to swallow and take in air and do anything to calm himself down. “Just do something.”

“What’s the magic word?” He raises his head, gasping when he finds your lips suddenly inches from his own. 

“Ple— please?” Your lips quirk up.

“Actually, it was—”

You don’t get the chance to tease him anymore. He crushes your lips together with so much force that it almost hurts. There’s nothing coherent about the way he kisses you, although you could hardly call it a kiss at all. It was more him putting his mouth against yours, tilting his head, and squeezing his eyes shut. It’s clear from the moment it started that he’s never been kissed before and that knowledge has you squirming in his lap. 

“Eric,” you’ve barely pulled back and he’s chasing your lips as if you’re a glass of his favorite wine. “Eric, hold on.”

“Why?” His eyes flutter open and you have to force yourself not to kiss him senseless, even if he has no idea what he’s doing.

“Just—” You inhale deeply and the scent of his cologne begins to overwhelm your senses, practically intoxicating you. “You’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

He nods, his previous embarrassment returning when you say that. “I mean…Yeah, I— I haven’t. But I—I’ve used WikiHow—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off and choose to ignore the comment about WikiHow, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Just follow my lead.” 

When he nods, you press your lips against his again. This time, it’s more fluid. It’s easier for you to kiss him when he’s copying your movements. It’s still awkward, your teeth smacking together painfully, but you can tell he’s getting used to the feeling. You’re able to part your lips against his, to open your mouth just enough for your tongue to slip out and brush against his lower lip. His whole body jolts, his hands digging into the fabric of your skirt hard enough that your skin would be bruised the next day. His hips roll up against yours, drawing a heady moan out of you. 

When Eric parts from you, his eyes are hazy. “Did— did you like when I did that?” 

“Yes,” you groan and begin to roll your hips down into his, watching the way his eyes roll into the back of his head and his back arches off the couch. 

“F-Fuck, okay,” He screws his eyes shut again, lips completely parted as the two of you begin to hump into each other like some damn animals. Your lips meld together again, and you let your tongue slither into his mouth. It’s obvious that Eric has no idea what to do with his tongue— pushing against yours aggressively, shoving it to the side, and trying to push his into your mouth— but as the minutes pass, he begins to understand what to do. He begins to understand what makes your body react positively and what has you unintentionally cringing away from him. 

Your lips part from his one more time but you hardly give him time to complain before you place a kiss on his cheek, then the corner of his jaw, and then right below his ear. He emits a nearly wild moan at this, his hips jerking up into yours in such a way that his bulge presses against your clit and punches a moan out of you. Being the quick learner that he is, Eric adjusts his position and rolls his hips up again and again and again, addicted to the way you sound and feel against him. 

“Eric,” you whine, parting from his neck. “Eric, oh my god.” 

He just huffs into your collarbone, licking and sucking and trying desperately to not cum too soon, but you just feel so good against him that he just can’t help it. 

His hips stutter against yours, and he moans so loud you fear that the neighbors hear it. You let him continue to grind into you, to work himself through his orgasm as your slips back and escapes you. It doesn’t matter, you’d get yourself when he leaves—

“You didn’t cum.” 

“What?” You blink dumbly at him, and Eric begins to pout. 

“You didn’t— you didn’t cum. You should’ve told me. I would’ve held off!” You knew that wasn’t true. He could barely hold himself together from a few kisses, what made him think he’d be able to hold himself off until you came? 

“It’s fine, Eric.” You reassure him, but he’s having none of it. You can’t stop him from lifting you off his hips and settling you against the couch cushions. Well…you probably could, but you wanted to see where this went. 

You watch as he unceremoniously yanks down your panties, not bothering with your skirt whether out of impatience or because he liked seeing you in it. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Eric peers up at you, a boyish smile on his face. 

“Can’t be that hard, right?” You laugh, choosing not to argue with him. You’d tell him, when it came time, where your clit is but for now? You’d let him work things out for himself. 

Your body shudders when Eric takes his first taste, licking from the bottom to the top of your pussy. You’re amazed that he didn’t accidentally go too far down like most (slightly more experienced) men have. It’s almost impressive how much attention he pays to your quivering body, and you flip your skirt up so you can see his face buried into you. Every lick draws out a moan from both of you, and you can see him starting to roll his hips down onto the couch. 

“Fuck,” his words are muffled by your cunt, and vile slurping noises accompany him. “Could get addicted to the taste of you.”

“Mm, feels good, Eric.” Your eyes flutter shut, one of your hands slipping down to tangle in his blonde strands of hair and tugging him up slightly. Your other hand taps at your clit lightly, making your body jolt a bit. “Here. This— fuck— feels good here.”

“That’s it?” He drops his head down again, swatting your hand out of the way to replace it with his own. His touch is much rougher than yours, his hands thick and calloused compared to your delicate ones. “Right here?” 

You whine for him, and he has to bite on his tongue to not cum again so fast. He’s quick to attach his mouth to your clit, sucking violently and swiping his tongue against it. If you weren’t impressed by him before, you most certainly were now. It hadn’t taken him long at all to figure out what felt good for you. Reading your mind and body was almost second nature to him, it seemed, and it became abundantly clear when your orgasm began to rise again.

“Close, Eric!” You gasped out, “I’m close!”

He groans against you, catching your hips in his hands when they begin to roll into his face. Eric wanted to drown in you. He wanted to feel you shake around him for the rest of his damn life. He wanted to hear you screaming his name until your throat was raw and your voice was gone. 

And the sight of you cumming on his face, your essence soaking his chin and dripping onto his sweatshirt? 

If he could stay glued to you for the rest of his life, he fucking would.

Becoming a habit came easy for you and Eric. You’re not dating, but you’re unsure of whether the puppy-like boy cares or not. You discovered very quickly that he would do anything for you, would learn anything for you. You’d successfully taught him how to kiss a girl without looking like a dumbass (i.e. the straight-face-to-sudden-kiss scenario you’d faced too many times to count), how to finger you and hit all the right spots, where not to put his mouth and fingers unless explicitly told otherwise. There was, of course, your next problem.

Eric refused to put his dick in you.

You knew he was clean, both of you had gotten tested when you originally began screwing around. You knew he liked you, that much was obvious. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, he told you how much he loved you every time you gave him head. He just…never went farther than that. Was he scared? Did he not want you as bad as you (very clearly) wanted him? It made you nauseous to think about, but it was getting frustrating how all you two did was make out, grind on each other like teenagers, and give each other head every time you saw each other. Shit— he was even fine with fingering you underneath the table in your lecture the other day! 

That’s why you developed a plan. Here you were, standing outside of the Tau Beta Zeta frat house under the guise of needing to work on your project (which wasn’t necessarily a lie) but really planning on getting him to finally fuck you. Yes, you were aware of the fact that he was a virgin but it was obvious from the start that he didn’t give a shit about that.

Unless he did. Your hand pauses just inches from the door, but you shake your head to clear the anxious thought and you knock on the door. 

One, two, three…one, two three…one—

On the third round of knocks, a boy swings the door open. His eyes are wide, his hair in disarray. 

“Hi.” You wave your hand with a smile, but the boy just stands there with a dumb look on his face. Were all the TBZ boys like this? 

“…Hi?” He says it in the form of a question, which draws a laugh out of you. 

“I’m Y/N.”

“…Sunwoo…” 

“Oh, the star soccer player, right?” He nods and you grin. “I saw your last game, the one where your girlfriend— I’m assuming girlfriend— knocked some sense into you. You really killed it out there!”

“Thank you…uh…can— can I help you?” You rock back and forth on your heels, biting at your lip in thought. The idea of wearing a skirt is choosing to bite you in the ass as a cold breeze picks up. 

“I’m here for Eric, actually. Um…Eric Sohn? I think he lives here, right?” Sunwoo’s jaw drops, his head dipping down as well and he steps to the side to let you in. You smile, using your feet to pull your shoes off as you step into the entryway. You see a pile of shoes to your left, the larger men’s pairs shoved into a large pile while some smaller women’s shoes sit neatly. You can’t help but wonder if it was the girlfriends that did this or if one of the frat members cares a bit more about them than the others. 

“He’s…he’s on the second floor, third door on the left…” You thank Sunwoo, ignoring how he follows you with obvious confusion and awe. Another boy passes by you, staring in confusion but ends up in the same state as the soccer player when he explains the situation. 

You knock before you enter Eric’s room, rocking on your heels again as you wait for some sort of response. You get none, and when you go to interrupt him, the second boy stops you. 

“Hi, um, I’m Haknyeon— you can call me Hak, though— Eric’s— he’s— he’s gaming. You can just go in because there’s no way you’re gonna get his attention by— by, um— yeah.” He stumbles over his words in an almost incomprehensible way, but you get the basic idea. 

“Thanks, Hak,” you dip your head and twist the doorknob. Sunwoo and Hak both watch you enter the room, only snapping out of their daze when you shut the door tightly behind you. 

“You…you saw that too, right?” Haknyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder with a grin on his face.

“My best friend…” Sunwoo’s voice is quiet with confusion. “He’s…he’s getting bitches?”

“What did I say about saying that,” his girlfriend pops around the corner with a scowl on her face. Sunwoo’s face lights up, but it disappears at the scolding gaze she gives him.

“Sorry, baby,” he pouts and she rolls her eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Give them some damn privacy,” she clicks her tongue, eyeing the door. “Lord knows they’re probably gonna need it.”

Eric is facing a large gaming setup when you enter the room. You can see the dark polo sweater which is partially unzipped to reveal some of his chest, the beige hat, and the khaki combo he had, unfortunately, chosen to wear today (you’re going to have to update his closet soon, whether you date him or not. You have to save the next girl he’s with). The lights, shockingly, are purple rather than the red you had expected. You can see expensive monitors and a keyboard, all of which are cleaner than any other gamer’s setup that you’d seen. In fact, his whole room is so much cleaner than you had ever given him credit for. You’d expected to see something absolutely filthy, but Eric never fails to shock you.

What doesn’t shock you, however?

Five Nights At Freddy’s playing on the screens.

You clear your throat, and he barely even spares a glance at you. You wonder if he even recognized that it was you—

“Yo, Y/N!” Oh god, this might not go as planned. “You’re early!” 

“Figured I’d come by to hang out before we got started on the paper.” You come up behind him, dropping your bag and jacket by the edge of the bed, revealing the black sheer top you’d chosen to go with your white skirt. You’d also chosen the perfume you know gets his attention the most, the one that always has him practically gluing his face to your neck. 

That doesn’t happen this time. He stays glued to his game, his legs spread wide open and tongue sticking out from the corner of his lips. 

“Feel— fuck!” His body jerks when an animatronic (Foxy, maybe?) comes out of a vent and gives him barely enough time to start protecting himself. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, I might take a while.”

You hum, not moving from your spot. Your hands are on the back of his gaming chair, your eyes focused on the screen with fake intrigue. He doesn’t acknowledge you, so you let your hands begin to sink onto his shoulders. His chin tilts toward you a bit, but he corrects himself and goes back to ignoring you even when your nails graze the skin of his collarbone. 

“What are you doing?” Eric asks, but it’s more dismissive than anything. 

“Just watching you play,” you reply with a sly grin. Another jumpscare appears, and he grunts when you intentionally dig your nails into him (something you’ve learned he loves over the past two weeks). 

Part two of your scheme begins when you sink to your knees beside Eric and slip under his desk. This grabs his attention. Eric watches as you get comfortable, no longer paying attention to the screens in front of him when you run your hands up his thighs, grazing the button of his khaki pants. 

“Y/N, this—” his breath catches in his throat when you finally undo the button and pull the zipper down. You can see his member already hardening, twitching in his boxers. “You don’t have to— I don’t— why—”

“Jus’ play your game, baby.” You purr, your fingers hooking under the band of his boxers to tug them and his pants down at the same time. His jaw is hanging open, eyes wide with awe, but you stop your movements. “Play your game, Eric, or I’m leaving.”

His response is immediate, sliding his chair closer to you and lifting his hips to let you work. Your smirk is wide, and you yank his clothing down in one go, letting them rest around his ankles. Eric’s knee begins to bounce, and you rest your hand on top of it to steady him. His member, in just a few moments, has completely hardened. You can see the slick precum beginning to leak from his tip, and you lower your mouth to catch each drop on his tongue. 

The moan he emits is loud, and you pull your mouth back just an inch to dig your nails into his thigh.

“Stay quiet and don’t cum unless I say so.” He whimpers in response, and you bring your mouth back onto him. You begin by suckling at his tip, letting your tongue swirl around him like a lollypop, and listening to his barely restrained moans. You hear clicking and tapping on his keyboard, as well as random noises from the game

You take him a little deeper and his thighs tense, but he’s good at staying quiet. He’s good even when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag around him. Even when you take him so deep that you’re choking on him and spit is dripping from your mouth and onto his skin. Even when you begin hollowing your mouth and bobbing your head, and swallowing around him a few times when you take him all the way down so your nose is against his pelvis. 

Another jumpscare and his hips jerk and force him farther down your throat. You moan around him, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, and that elicits a whine from him.

“Y/N,” he pleads. “I’ve been s-so good for yo—you right? Haven’t— Haven’t I been good? Ple—please let me cum. Jus’ wanna cum, please?” 

Eric sees you look up at him through your eyelashes, and just the sight of you slobbering all over him has his eyes rolling back in his head.

Then you pull off him completely, leaving his dick twitching and lonely against his stomach. 

“Why did— why did you pull off?” His eyes are dazed, and you flash a coy smile at him. 

“I told you to pay attention to the game, didn’t I?” 

“I— yeah, you did but— but I just— you—” Eric is tearing up as you begin to push your body out from under the desk to stand in front of him. 

“Poor baby,” you cup his cheek and your stomach churns when he leans into your palm with a sigh. “Should’ve just paid attention and beat the night, then, hm?” 

“Please,” he whines, leaving little kisses on your palm and working his way to your wrist, your forearm, your elbow, and then he’s pulling you onto his lap so you’re nearly sitting on his dick. You can feel it pulsing against your core, and you can’t help the tiny rolls of your hips to gain some sort of friction. “Please, just— I’ll…I’ll do anything you want. I’ll— I’ll eat you out, I’ll finger you, fuck, I’ll— I’ll let you sit on my face if that’s what you want.”

You hum, tapping your fingers against his chest in thought. “What if I want you to fuck me?” 

His body tenses and his cheeks begin to flush, his eyes refusing to meet yours. 

“Eric,” you say softly, moving your hand to his chin and forcing him to look at you. “Eric, talk to me.”

“I— I don’t—”

“I’m not gonna force you to do anything, Eric,” you reassure him, stopping the ministrations of your hips and bringing your free hand to the side of his neck. “I just want to know why. I want to understand. Do you— do you not want me? Do you wanna save yourself for another girl?” 

“No!” He snaps, his voice a bit harsher than he’d intended for it to come out but it has you flinching away from him. In a moment of panic, he brings his hands to your waist and tugs you closer to him. “I— sorry. It’s not— it’s not that at all.”

“Then why?” Your hands are playing with the ends of his blonde hair, and Eric swallows once. Twice. And then he tucks his head into your shoulder. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

You nod, disappointment filling you, but you don’t let it show. 

“Let’s work on the project.” You slide off his lap, ignoring the somewhat heartbroken gaze he shoots you. “The paper is due in a couple of days, so I grabbed a few sources and drafted an outline.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just tucks his member back into his pants and comes to join you on his bed. The air is tense and you know he wants to say something. You wait for him to say it. 

He doesn’t.

“Eric, you’re fucking stupid.” Sunwoo throws himself onto his best friend’s bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of Eric hitting his head on his desk.

“I know…”

“I mean, we already knew this from previous incidents. Ahem, giving my then-crush-now-girlfriend a concussion. But holy shit I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse than that.”

“I know!” Eric whines, sitting heavily on the gaming chair he’d gotten head on almost four hours ago, and could have gotten laid in had he not been a damn moron.

“I mean, you’ve been trying to get laid by this chick for how long? And you cockblocked yourself because…” Sunwoo trails off, his eyebrows knitting together as he sits up. “Wait, why did you cockblock yourself?”

“I don’t know, man!” Eric huffs and leans his head back. “Fuck, she was so nice about it too. Too nice. I know damn well she’s pissed at me but she’s too fucking nice to say anything.”

“Well yeah,” Sunwoo shrugs. “Sex 101— don’t force yourself onto anyone. Hello? Why would she do that to you?”

Eric crosses his arms over his chest, using his feet to spin his chair back and forth lightly. You had been really sweet about everything. You could’ve gotten mad at him, especially since this wasn’t the first time this had happened, but you didn’t. You wanted him to be ready. 

And he was. He was so ready! He just— he gets nervous around you! What if he’s a disappointment? What if he’s so bad that you have to fake an orgasm? What if he doesn’t fit? What if he hurts you?

“Eric,” Sunwoo claps his hands together to snap Eric out of his thoughts. “Stop getting distracted while I’m trying to help you in a way that won’t lead to injuries.” 

The poor, self-cockblocked boy lifts his head with a pout. 

“There’s a party this weekend, right?” 

“Yeah…” Eric tilts his head.

“Make sure she’s there. Use whatever excuse you need to, and make sure she shows up. Then, ask her to talk. Go somewhere private, talk to her, tell her you’re ready, and then fuck until the sun comes up.” Sunwoo claps again, throwing his out to the side in a cocky I just made the best plan ever manner. “First of all, gets you laid, second of all— free revenge on Sangyeon.”

Eric drums his fingers against his legs in thought. The plan was good, he’d admit that. Of course, not out loud. No, he would never let Sunwoo know that he was right about something.

“Fine,” Eric agrees. “But if shit goes south, it’s your fault.”

“Deal,” Sunwoo grins mischievously. “And if shit goes right, you owe me and my girlfriend dinner.”

“Deal.”

Eric doesn’t see you at all that week, something that has him nearly crying on the ground in Sangyeon’s bedroom. He’d texted you, asked if you were okay, sent you notes, told you about the party but didn’t outright invite you. Nothing. No sign of you in lectures, no texts from you aside from a confirmation that you’d submit your written portion of the midterm.

“Take a damn breath.” Sangyeon rolls his eyes and tugs a formfitting black mock-neck shirt over his head, sliding a silver chain around his neck afterward. “She’s probably busy.”

“But she never goes this long without texting me! Or being in a lecture!” The youngest member of the frat holds his head in his hands, staring down at the white buttondown shirt that hung somewhat loosely on his body. 

“Maybe she hates you, I don’t know!” Sangyeon exclaims. “Stop bothering me about it!” Eric pouts up at the TBZ president.

“But you know how to handle these things!”

“Not when you’re on my ass about it all day every day for a week straight.” Sangyeon’s lip curls and Eric huffs, laying back on the hardwood floor. “Dude, just be patient. Who knows, maybe she was sick? Maybe she’ll show up today and you’ll get laid. Just. Be. Patient.”

And patient he was. 

He lurked around the party, a drink in his hand and a ripped red baseball cap covering his head and shielding his red-rimmed eyes from the public. They didn’t need to know he’d cried over his two-year-long crush ghosting him. 

“Who pissed in your cheerios?” He turns his body slowly, ready to crack a corny joke, and walk away from whoever yelled in his ear, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. You’re in another tiny little black skirt and a black bralette that was used as a poor excuse for a shirt with a leather jacket thrown over it. He nearly crumbles in front of you, ready to worship you and the ground you walk on, ready to take you in front of all these people so they know that he’s yours.

“Oh my god.” 

You laugh at the dumbstruck look in his eyes, at the way his eyes are stuck on your chest, and the way your bralette pushes your boobs up just enough to catch attention. 

“You okay, Eric?” Your hand is on his arm, and in an instant his cup is thrown to the side and his lips are on yours, his tongue shoved into your mouth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, and, really, the suddenness of it all, but you don’t complain. You love how frantic he is for you, love how he’s ready to risk it all after just a week of not seeing you. 

When he parts from you, there’s a string of spit connecting your lips that only breaks when you swipe your thumb across his lip. 

“How’s that for a hello?” You say just loud enough for him to hear it. 

“We need to talk.”

“We do.” You confirm, but his lips are on yours again, and you’re so glad that everyone is distracted by a game of beer pong on the other side of the room. You let your eyes flutter shut, moaning into his mouth when he pushes his tongue against yours. They dance together, swirling around each other but not fighting for dominance. No, this kiss isn’t about that. This is two people being addicted to the taste of each other, two people who could never get enough of what the other has to offer. 

You have to force yourself to part from him, turning away so you can find somewhere more private— preferably his bedroom. He doesn’t stray from you, gluing his lips to the side of your neck as you try to weave through the crowd. It’s not easy, especially with Eric on you and refusing to let go, but you don’t mind. 

Not when he shoves you against his dresser as soon as his bedroom door is shut and locked. 

The handles of the drawers dig against your spine, but you’re too distracted by Eric’s lips on your chest to care. His hat is missing, likely somewhere on the staircase. Your jacket has been thrown to the opposite side of the room, the straps of your bralette shoved down and both breasts freed from its confines so Eric can lick and suck and bite at the soft mounds. 

“Eric,” you moan out, arching your back into his hunched form. He groans against you, sucking hard at your nipple and eliciting a loud moan from you. “Eric, pick me up.” 

Without even pulling away, he does, plopping you unceremoniously onto his dresser and moving his lips to the other breast, replacing his mouth with his hand. Your hand comes to the back of his head, and you find yourself smiling at the desperation your lover shows. 

“Missed me that much, huh?” Your composure is crumbling, but you don’t care. “Might have to disappear more often.”

He rips away from your chest, eyes narrowed into a glare. “Don’t even joke about that. I thought you died.”

You kiss him again, both hands holding his face to yours, and your legs wrap around his waist. Eric’s hands find your thighs and he lifts you off the dresser. He sucks on your tongue, biting on your lip when you start to pull away and you whimper at the sting of pain. 

“Thought I died, hm?” You brush back the blonde strands of hair covering his sweaty forehead and smirk. “It’s a good thing I didn’t then, hm? What would you have done? Fucked your fist for the rest of your life?” 

A muscle in his jaw feathers and he throws you down on his bed. You yelp, eyes widening at the personality change. A week ago, he would’ve been begging you for any touch, would’ve been falling apart just for one look at your dripping pussy. But now?

Now he looks like a starved animal, and you’re the first helpless creature he’s seen in weeks. 

“Eric,” you warn, watching him unbutton his shirt. “Remember what I said.” 

He eyes you, smirking at the way your jaw drops when his shirt hits the floor. It’s odd, isn’t it? You’d probably been bare in front of him countless times but you’d hardly seen him with his pants down.

“Holy fuck.” You stare at his torso, at the chiseled abs and biceps, at the veins in his arms, at the trail of hair leading down to his dick. “You’re— you’re fucking shredded.”

“Shredded?” He quirks an eyebrow, undoing his belt and the button of his pants so he can push them down and kick them to the side. “That’s the first word you thought of?”

“Well—” you clear your throat and turn your gaze away from him. “I mean— you are.”

“Cute,” He coos and crawls over you, hooking his fingers into the hem of your skirt. “May I?”

“You may,” you look at him again, then down his body and swallow hard at the sight of him. You’ve seen him many times. You’ve held him in your hand, in your mouth. You know what to expect.

So why does it make you so nervous now?

“You’re getting distracted,” Eric kisses his teeth, lowering his face to yours but not kissing you. He traces his nose across your cheek, light kisses from his lips going with it. His nose nudges against your jaw, urging you to tilt your jaw up so he can kiss you there. You do, and his lips feel like fire against your skin. “I thought you liked it when people pay attention?”

“I— I do!” You gasp out, and Eric laughs against your skin. Where the fuck is all this confidence coming from? 

“Then why aren’t you paying attention to me?” His fingers press against your sopping-wet entrance and you lift your hips in a weak attempt to get them inside of you. 

“I am!” Tears are welling in your eyes. “I am paying attention to you, Eric, please!”

He juts out his lip in a mocking pout, using the hand that’s not against your heat to wipe the tears away. 

“Okay baby,” he says softly, sinking two thick, calloused fingers into you. “Don’t cry, not yet.” 

The intrusion has you crying out and Eric does his best to hush you, to soothe you, and then he’s thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. Your fingers cling to his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and shift with every movement of his arm. Eric grins when your eyes finally flutter shut, when you finally give in to him. He praises you when he slips a third finger into your core, and then a fourth. He praises you as he works you through the sting, curling his fingers gently to search for the spot he knows would have you falling to pieces under him. 

Eric finds it easily and is oh so pleased by your wail of his name. He grins almost maliciously, when you begin to shake, when your body begins to thrash, and your nails dig into his shoulders and drag down his back. 

“Always so easy for me,” he hums, staring in awe at the wrinkle between your eyebrows and how your tongue practically hangs out of your mouth. When he knows you’re about to cum, he crushes his lips against yours again and begins to move his hand faster. You’re sobbing into his mouth, unable to kiss him back between your cries and moans, but Eric doesn’t mind. 

He lets you grind against his hand until you’re not shaking anymore. Then, and only then, does he pull his fingers out of you, watching with curious satisfaction as your cum drips from his fingers and onto the blanket below you. 

“Don’t— don’t sit there staring at that shit.” you hiss, but Eric just smiles. 

“So you can speak coherently now?” 

“Shut up and fuck me already, or do you need me to teach you how to do that too?” 

Eric’s gaze hardens, his tongue pushing against his cheek. You push yourself to sit up, but Eric pushes you right back down and uses his hands to push your legs apart. 

“I don’t need you to teach me anything,” he grunts, lining his member up with your entrance. 

“Really? That’s not what it looked like three weeks ag—oh fuck!” Your back arches off the bed when he suddenly sinks into you. Four fingers seem to have been just barely enough, the sting fading just as fast as it came. Or maybe you just like the pain so much it turned into pleasure. Whatever the reason, you’re quick to tell Eric to pick up the pace. 

You’re both shocked and impressed by the movement of his hips. He alternates between smooth, sharp rolls and harsh, pointed thrusts that have your body forced up the bed and the headboard knocking against the wall.

“You think I need your help?” Eric growls, digging his hands into your thighs and spreading them farther apart, lifting the lower half of your body a bit to change the angle. This brings a new pleasure to both of you. Something that you’ve never felt before, and has your mind reeling. “I didn’t need you. I wanted you. I wanted every part of you. I craved you, craved your taste. It was pure fucking luck that you wanted me too.”

“Eric,” You gasp out, sinking your teeth into the side of his neck to leave another mark on his skin. “Eric, feels so good, god it feels so good please, please don’t stop. Don’t stop, oh my god!”

“Look at you,” he yanks your head out of his neck by your hair, staring down at your fucked out face as he continues to plow into you with no remorse. “All fucked out for me. I did this. Your little virgin boy. Isn’t it embarrassing?” 

You whine in response but apparently, that isn’t what he’s looking for because he slows down at your lack of response. 

“Answer me,” he hisses.

“I— I don’t— Eric I don’t—” You don’t even know what he’s trying to ask. You stopped listening as soon as he pulled your hair, the sting of it feeling too good. Eric laughs, picking up his pace again and dropping your head back down onto his pillows. 

“What? Too fucked out to answer me? Who would’ve thought that I was the virgin and not you? What would people think if they walked in here and saw me fucking you like this?” He doesn’t expect an answer this time, not that you’d be able to give him one anyway. 

Your legs draw tightly around his slim waist, holding him close as your orgasm approaches again, but Eric doesn’t seem to be even close to cumming. Even when your second orgasm washes over you, and then your third. He fucks you through each one, sweat dripping from his hair and down his torso until his body is sliding against yours. Your body feels numb, but at the same time, you can feel everything. Every drag of his length against your walls, every punch of his tip against your cervix. Your arms curl around his neck, but your grip is loose. 

When Eric’s hips finally begin to stutter, you’re about four orgasms in, the fifth about to wash over you. Your voice is hoarse, a puddle of drool on the pillow under your head. You can’t find it in you to make any more noise, just gasping breathes and quiet whines. You cum together, and the feeling of his cum filling you has your back arching again. This time, Eric catches you and holds your body against his. He kisses you gently, uncaring that you can barely breathe let alone kiss him. 

“That— that was a good talk,” he jokes, and you say nothing at first. “Um…are— are you okay?” 

“You just—” you clear your throat, but it does nothing. “You just fucked me within an inch of my life, as a completely inexperienced virgin, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” 

Eric frowns, settling down on top of you, but careful not to lay his full weight onto your obviously aching body. He can see the bruises he’d left all over you— on your chest, your neck, your hips. Anywhere his lips or hands touched, there was a bruise left in his wake. He imagines, however, that he looks no different. He can feel the scratches you left on his back, marring every inch of his skin and likely drawing a bit of blood, he can see a hickey on his arm that you left at some point and can imagine how the front of his body looks.

“So…so you’re not okay?” He tries and you huff, throwing an arm over your eyes. 

“Eric, I love you, but you’re such a dumbass.” You groan, shoving him off your body so you can breathe properly. “Go draw a bath. I’m gonna need one after that shit.”

“Before I do, can you answer one question?” You pry your eyes open to scowl at him and his damn puppy-like eyes. 

“What?” 

“Are we— are we dating now?” 

“We won’t be for long if you don’t get that fucking bath going.” 

“Aw, yeah!” Eric cheers, jumping off the bed and running to the bathroom to start the bath like you asked. “Guess who isn’t single anymore, Sunwoo!”

“What’s your problem?” Haknyeon peers at Sangyeon over the lip of his mug. The frat president is glaring at you and Eric with something murderous in his eyes, which seem to have dark bags under them.

“My bedroom is right next to Eric’s.” Haknyeon raises an eyebrow, and Sangyeon clears his throat. “My bedroom is next to Eric’s.”

“Okay…oh. OH. Oh, shit man, I’m sorry.” Haknyeon turns his gaze to the two of you, grimacing at the thought of how long Sangyeon could have been kept up, but smiling when he sees how the two of you are cuddled on the couch. The grimace returns when he sees the state of your necks, neither of you having bothered to hide what you did to each other. 

“I mean,” Sunwoo sits on the counter, a bowl of cereal in his hand. “You kinda deserved it after what you did to him.”

“What the fuck— what did I do to him?” Sangyeon exclaims, and Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow. 

“You fucked your girlfriend for, what, seven rounds straight? The poor man didn’t get any sleep that night. Be glad you were able to rest after that.”

Haknyeon raises his cup, and the three frat boys return to “subtly” watching the two of you.

“Do you at least know if he was good? You know, for a virgin.”

“Oh my fucking god, Sunwoo, shut up.”

“You shut up, Hak! It was just a question!”

“You two are fucking nasty,” Sangyeon’s lip curls into a sneer, trying to block out the memories of last night. “But I’m gonna need a shit ton of bleach if I wanna forget that bullshit.”

“Hot.”

“Sunwoo, shut UP!”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#blackoutorbackout🍻 #itsbeeble #reese's moots 🩵 #reese's works 📩 #reese's pieces 🗞️ #fawn~ 🧼 #ally~ ⛄️ #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop smut #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #eric sohn #eric sohn x reader #eric sohn smut #eric sohn imagines #eric sohn fluff #eric sohn the boyz #tbz eric sohn

[cheezbites]

Emoji Combo Shop<3

(This isn’t a writing blog but this has been sitting in my notes app for quite some time now so… here y’all go!!)

Starry Y2K

➜‷🫧🛼✮🛹★🎧♱‷

🫧🛼🛹🎧

Vintage Harvest

❝🎻⁂🪵⤶.·͙*̩̩͙⚰️📜❞

🎻🪵⚰️📜

Strawberry Kisses

༄₊🍓♡⋆🍰✿💌°🧸➳

🍓🍰💌🧸

Autumn Zeal

°➻🥧✮🍁✵°🧶•.🧡‷

🥧🍁🧶🧡

Oceanic View

‿🌊 𖦹︵‿ 🫧 ☽˚｡⋆ 🐬︵‿💦

🌊🫧🐬💦

Winter Breeze

ˎ˗❄️⟿🌨𝓢⛄️༄⛸ 🧤⁂

❄️🌨☃️⛸🧤

Ethereal

╭🕊༄✵🕯•.🏹☕️꧂✧🐚∞

🕊🕯🏹☕️🐚

Rainy Night

☆°🌧🌘 * 。 ₊ 🌫 :+🌬 *+:｡ 🌌 🕯 ❜

🌧🌘🌫🌬🌌🕯

Earthy Sage ͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ 🌿 ︶꒦꒷♡🪨 ✩🎧📗 ̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥🤎.•

🌿🪨🎧🤎

Crimson Killer

‴🩸 : ̗̀➛🧧❀☾🌑 º‷ ⚡︎💋🔪👠º☇

🩸🧧🌑💋👠

Night Watch

☽✷🔭 ✨ •☁︎ 🌃♫ ☹︎ •🌙 🕸↜

🔭✨🌃🌙🕸

Mythical, Hueful

☼➤º🎀 ୨♡୧•🦋º🧚‍♀️★✨❀🍬•.🪩

🎀🦋🧚‍♀️✨🍬🪩

Monotone

𖦹🪦 ♬ ₊˚. 📜🕷₊✧🪨✩˚.🕸⋆☾

🪦📜🦴🪨🕸🕷

Hippie ‘n’ Sippy

🐌ᘏ🐛✿⁂🐚✺🤎♬+🪴ꔫ:*🌞﹌

🐌🐛🐚🤎🪴🌞

1960s Aesthetic

﹤•🕯 ͟͟͞͞➳❥🪞ˏˋ°💌˚₊📀🌱 ⁀➷🌺ꔫ:*

🕯🪞💌📀🌱🌺

Loamy Incense

•.🧺♬⋆🌿—🌻 ☽˚｡⋆🪵☁︎✿☁️❃°

🧺🌿🌻🪵

Beige Baguettez

°˖✾🥨*ೃ🍪︶꒦꒷🐈 *ೃ༄☕️•,🧥°˖

🥨🍪🐈☕️🧥

H2O

︵‿🧜‍♀️ *̩̩͙‧͙🫧 ༄🐚❂🏝𓆉✩🐬︵‿

🧜‍♀️🫧🐚🏝🐬

Traveling

˗ˏˋ🎧✈️༄🌅◦•≫🚕❈💺≪⛰´ˎ˗

🎧✈️🌅🚕💺⛰

Clean and Pristine

❝🧼︶꒦꒷🧻🚿 ♡ ╯🫧❀„ 🧽⁂🧺﹌

🧼🧻🚿🫧🧽🧺

Fawn SZN

˗ˏ`ᘏ🦫•❃°•🐾 ⁂🪶➽‷🪐˚𖣠🍂´ˎ˗

🦫🐾🪶🪐🍂

Air (Ethereal v2)

*.☽🌬•︵‿🌫☁️୨♡୧🤍🕊｡ﾟ.☆─

🌬🌫☁️🤍🕊

Fire Blaze

✦🔥*•̩̩͙✩＊❤️‍🔥✧💋˚*•̩̩͙🌹•.💥＊

🔥❤️‍🔥💋🌹💥

Night City Life

★🛹 •.🤎°🎧,•☆☁️.*ೃ🌃💸༄📚｡･:

🛹🎧☁️🌃📚

Bookish and Preppy

︵‿❝📚➷🏫𖤐📔ˏˋ°•⭐️*⁀📝❞♬

📚🏫📔⭐️📝

Pink Core

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒💕₊˚⊹♡🌸

🌷💕🌸

Sage Green

＊*•̩̩͙🌴⟿🍵ᘏ🪴✩•̩̩͙🐢❃°

🌴🍵🪴🐢

(I will be updating this later, mwa!)

#emoji #emojis #preppy #aesthetic #cute #cute szn #idk how to tag this #theme #themes #pink #cutie w a bootie #colour #color #colorful #colourful #autumn #fall #fall aesthetic #fall season #fall vibes #fairy #bakery #warm

[acourtofthought]

Hello hello my love! I hope you had a lovely holiday and are relaxing at the shore :))

Saw a post with this quote recently:

Lucien replied, the dappled sunlight glinting along the gold thread adorning his fawn-brown jacket as he crossed his arms.

Now in the past, I’ve seen E*riels call out similar descriptions of Elain, and her hair. That the intermixing of shadow and light are hints for the ship. This was before I blocked the tag life is much better now, but I could almost swear “dappled sunlight” or “dappled gold” is used to describe her/around her even when she’s alone or not near either Azriel or Lucien. I was wondering if you’ve noticed any other/more incidents of “dappled” sun/gold for Lucien, and Elain? Because, in my head, I loooove the idea of sunlight being dappled around elucien due to Lucien’s true parentage being unknown to him, and their reluctance and hesitancy around each other.

-> dappled sunlight is similar to partial shade where the sunlight filters through the branches and foliage of deciduous trees. Through a leafy canopy.

Can’t help but to think of that blazing forest from which Feyre said Lucien seemed crafted from and for, can you? 🥰

🧼💖

Hello You!!! It's turned out to be a really great few days, thank you for asking! 🥰 We attempted to hunt for sea glass yesterday but that was a bust. I was so excited too because we found so much over the summer and I thought that we'd have great luck with the seasonal crowds no longer around but they must have combed the beach recently so it was slim pickings. Do you have any fun stories to report from your holiday? I love that you came up with the idea in this ask! I did search the series for the specific wording of dappled and while it wasn't used for Elain, I did note that both she and Lucien often have the sunlight and nature playing with or enhancing their hair (whereas Azriel's hair "gobbled up" the sunshine and shadows twine between Rhys' hair). So I feel like you're still onto something. "the light dancing in her hair"

"the breeze caressing her hair" There definitely seems to be more of this with Lucien but I wonder if the constant references of light on Lucien's hair is in line with his heritage. As the son of the High Lord of Day, you'd expect light to sort of surround him and radiate off him at all times. "the sunlight leaking through the forest canopy setting ember-red of his hair flickering" "the candlelight dancing over his hair" "His red hair gleamed in the faint firelight" "Lucien's red hair gleamed like the leaves above us" "his unbound hair glimmering as the midday sun overhead set the blood and wine hues aglow" And ugh....I love that line. "Son of this forest, and here...He looked crafted from it. For it." There are no other two characters who are noted as enjoying being outdoors quite as much as Elain and Lucien. They make my heart happy. You too and thank you for your message!!!

[cypric-rat-hyperfixation]

A buncha rat-themed pronouns

If you think this is cringe/unnecessary/ridiculous/harmful, leave. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You’ll just be blocked if you make negative commentary. No point, heard it all <3

General

- 🐀/🐀s/🐀self

- 🧀/🧀s/🧀self

- 🌃/🌃s/🌃self

- 🐁/🐁s/🐁self

- 🧬/🧬s/🧬self

- 🧪/🧪s/🧪self

- 🧼/🧼s/🧼self

- 🎹/🎹s/🎹self

- 🎨/🎨s/🎨self

- 🎷/🎷s/🎷self

- 🌙/🌙s/🌙 self

- 🫘/🫘s/🫘self

- 🦷/🦷s/🦷self

- 🏳️‍🌈/🏳️‍🌈s/🏳️‍🌈self

- 🏳️‍⚧️/🏳️‍⚧️s/🏳️‍⚧️self

- 🥔/🥔s/🥔self

- 🥞/🥞s/🥞self

- Bean/beans/beanself (cute and kidcore connotation)

- Buck/bucks/buckself (masc connotation)

- Doe/does/doeself (fem connotation)

- Kit/kits/kittenself (kidcore connotation)

- Kitten/kittens/kittenself (kidcore connotation)

- Muri/muris/muridaeself

- Nor/nors/norvegiself

- Nor/nors/norveself

- Pinkie/pinkies/pinkieself (kidcore connotation)

- Rat/rats/ratself

- Rattus/rattus/rattusself

- Rit/rits/rittenself (kidcore connotation)

- Rod/rods/rodentself

Markings

- Bare/bares/barebackself

- Berk/berks/berkshireself

- Blaze/blazes/blazeself

- Cap/caps/cappedself

- Dal/dals/dalmatianself

- Downun/downuns/downunderself

- Ess/ess/essexself

- Hus/hus/huskyself

- Light/lights/lightningself

- Lightning/lightnings/lightningself

- Mask/masks/maskself

- Roan/roans/roanself

- Self/selfs/selfself

- Var/vars/variself

Colors

- Agouti/agoutis/agoutiself

- Beige/beiges/beigeself

- Black/blacks/blackself (please consider racial connotations)

- Blonde/blondes/blondeself

- Blue/blues/blueself

- Brown/browns/brownself (please consider racial connotations)

- Cham/chams/champagneself (caution: alcohol may be triggering)

- Cinna/cinnas/cinnamonself

- Cream/creams/creamself

- Dove/doves/doveself

- Fawn/fawns/fawnself

- Gray/grays/grayself

- Ivory/ivorys/ivoryself

- Marten/martens/martenself

- Mink/minks/minkself

- Pow/pows/powderself

- Sable/sables/sableself

- Si/sis/siameseself

Styles

- Bris/bris/bristleself

- D’argent/d’argents/d’argentself

- Doub/doubs/doubleself

- Frost/frosts/frostedself

- Har/hars/harleyself

- Harley/harleys/harleyself

- Mane/manes/silvermaneself

- Marten/martens/martenself

- Merle/merles/merleself

- Nakey/nakeys/nakeyself (caution: may sound sexual)

- Patch/patches/patchworkself

- Sat/sats/satinself

- Satin/satins/satinself

- Silver/silvers/silvermaneself

- Silver/silvers/silverself

- Rex/rexes/rexself

- Were/weres/werewolfself

- Wolf/wolfs/werewolfself

Eyes

- Black/blacks/blackself (please consider racial connotations)

- Odd/odds/oddself

- Pink/pinks/pinkself

- Ruby/rubys/rubyself

Behavior

- Bite/bites/bitself

- Bog/bogs/boggleself

- Boggle/boggles/boggleself

- Brux/bruxes/bruxself

- Burrow/burrows/burrowself

- Cache/caches/cacheself

- Chirrup/chirrups/chirrupself

- Churr/churrs/churrself

- Cuddle/cuddles/cuddleself

- Dig/digs/digself

- For/fors/forageself

- Forage/forages/forageself

- Gnaw/gnaws/gnawself

- Groom/grooms/groomself

- Nest/nests/nestself

- Nibble/nibbles/nibbleself

- Nomp/nomps/nompself

- Pan/pans/pancakeself

- Pancake/pancakes/pancakeself

- Pee/pees/peeself (caution: gross)

- Peep/peeps/peepself

- Pop/pops/popcornself

- Screech/screeches/screechself

- Scurry/scurrys/scurryself

- Scuttle/scuttles/scuttleself

- Sidle/sidles/sidleself

- Sleep/sleeps/sleepself

- Sneef/sneefs/sneefself (cute connotation)

- Sniff/sniffs/sniffself

- Snoof/snoofs/snoofself (cute connotation)

- Snug/snugs/snuggleself [or snuggieself]

- Snuggie/snuggies/snuggieself

- Snuggle/snuggles/snuggleself

- Squeak/squeaks/squeakself

- Stalk/stalks/stalkself

- Sway/sways/swayself

- Train/trains/trainself

- Trot/trots/trotself

- Trut/truts/trutself

- Tunnel/tunnels/tunnelself

- Twitch/twitches/twitchself

- Wiggle/wiggles/wiggleself (cute connotation)

- Yawn/yawns/yawnself

Miscellaneous

- Bad/bads/badgerself

- Badger/badgers/badgerself

- Ball/balls/ballself (caution: may sound sexual)

- Cave/caves/caveself

- Cheese/cheeses/cheeself

- City/citys/cityself

- Claw/claws/clawself

- Clean/cleans/cleanself

- Dark/darks/darkself (please consider racial connotations)

- Den/dens/denself

- Dirt/dirts/dirtself (caution: follows stereotypes)

- Dope/dopes/dopamineself

- Dumbo/dumbos/dumboself

- Exper/expers/experimentself

- Fingies/fingies/fingieself (kidcore connotation)

- Giant/giants/giantself

- Grease/greases/greaseself (masc connotation + caution: follows stereotype) 

- Hemp/hemps/hempleself (caution: drugs may be triggering)

- Hemp/hemps/hempletonself (caution: drugs may be triggering)

- Hole/holes/holeself (caution: may sound sexual)

- Jerm/jerms/jermaself (caution: jerma)

- King/kings/kingself (masc connotation)

- Lab/labs/labself

- Mart/marts/martenself

- Marten/martens/martenself

- Neil/neils/neilself (masc connotation)

- New/news/newyorkself

- Night/nights/nightself

- Noct/nocts/nocturnalself

- Om/oms/omniself

- Orb/orbs/orbself

- Ox/ox/oxytocinself

- Pea/peas/peaself

- Plague/plagues/plagueself (caution: follows stereotype)

- Potate/potates/potatoself

- Prey/preys/preyself

- Puddle/puddles/puddleself

- Rat/rats/raticateself

- Rat/rats/rattataself

- Rem/rems/remiself

- Remy/remys/remyself

- Rule/rules/ruleself

- Sci/scis/scienceself

- Scritch/scritches/scritchself

- Sero/seros/serotoninself

- Sewer/sewers/sewerself (caution: follows stereotype)

- Shaw/shaws/shawself

- Skinner/skinners/skinnerself

- Snoot/snoots/snootself (cute connotation)

- Soup/soups/soupself

- Soc/socs/socialself

- Strange/stranges/strangeself

- Street/streets/streetself

- Teef/teefs/teefself (cute connotation)

- Teeth/teeths/teethself

- Test/tests/testself

- Tooth/tooths/toothself

- Top/tops/topself (caution: may sound sexual)

- Treat/treats/treatself

- Tune/tunes/tuneself

- Weird/weirds/weirdself

- Whisker/whiskers/whiskerself

- Yogie/yogies/yogieself

- York/yorks/yorkself

#ratcore #ratpunk #neopronouns #nonbinary #trans #queer #rats #fancy rat #long post

[itsbeeble]

I Think He Knows

SUMMARY: You've been in love with Joshua for as long as you can remember, yet you've never been able to tell him. Fortunately or unfortunately, you're pretty sure that he already knows.

GENRE: smut, fluff

PAIRING: Joshua Hong x afab!reader

WC: 4.9k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie

SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: uhhh, best friends to lovers, Hoshi being a snitch, p in v sex, brief oral (fem receiving), ddry humping, a bit of spanking, brat tamer!Joshua, brat!reader, tiny bit of angst if you really really squint, consent is IMPORTANT, tiny bit of alcohol, horrible flirting, multiple orgasms, idk this isn't my best work. It's also not edited so uh....good luck lol.

A/N: heyyyyyy 🥰. I'm not dead clearly, but my god has it been a minute. part of me is wondering if this series will ever be done but i'm doing my best. school sucks, work sucks, life is a bitch, and I burnt myself out. Anyway, thank you to Brie and Ally for betaing, much love kiss kiss. ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYYY

Your heart pounds ferociously in your chest, butterflies tumbling through your stomach uncomfortably. You feel like a teenager again, sitting in front of Joshua who has a boyish grin on his face. One of his hands traces along the bottom of his champagne glass, the other resting on the table and playing with the cork of the expensive bottle. You wonder if he knows how he makes your head spin with just a little smile and a glass of champagne. The thought doesn’t linger for long, and you let your gaze lower back to the practically empty plate before you. A few roasted vegetables remain on the plate, and you pick at them with your fork to avoid looking at your friend. 

Friends. That’s what you are. Nothing more, nothing less. As you always had been. 

Friends that took each other out to expensive restaurants, bought expensive drinks and expensive meals. Friends that—

“Soonyoung told me something interesting today,” he leans forward, dipping his head down to try and catch your eye. You glance up at him, but the fluttering in your stomach returns and forces your eyes back down.

“Oh yeah?” You murmur, thanking god for the dim lighting around you.

“Mhm. He mentioned you, actually.” 

Pause.

Kwon Soonyoung was the only person in the world who knew about your years-long crush on your best friend. If you could even call it a crush at this point. You’d admitted to yourself long ago that you were in love with him, admitted it to Soonyoung a few months back. You should’ve known better than to trust the mouthiest person in your friend group. 

“Now I’m curious,” you lift your head again, steeling yourself against the onslaught of nausea at what your mutual friend could have said. 

“He said,” Joshua shifts in his seat, running his tongue over his lower lip. “That you have feelings for me.”

Damn you Kwon Soonyoung. 

You nod slowly, lowering your fork onto the ceramic plate in front of you. The pounding in your chest has returned, hitting so hard against your ribs that you fear your heart will pop out and land right on the table in front of Joshua. 

“And…do you believe him?” You ask, failing to control the fear in your voice. Joshua smiles, and for a moment you let the fear wash away. Joshua Hong is the last person that you should feel afraid of. He was kind, he would never intentionally harm someone whether emotionally or physically, and he understood you better than most other people. You try to keep this in mind as you make eye contact. 

“I would be lying if I said that I didn’t at least hope he was telling the truth.” Joshua sits up, lacing his hands together and resting his elbows on the table. A spark, and you find the corners of your lips lifting. “Otherwise, my plans for the evening are a bit…a bit ruined, I guess.”

“You had other plans?” The champagne burns against the back of your throat as you down the rest of your glass. 

“Depends on how you respond to my question.” His eyes burn into yours and suddenly the table for two feels a lot smaller. 

“What question is that?” I already know, and I know my answer.

“Are you,” Joshua slides his glass to the side, “in love with me.”

“Yes.” You respond without hesitation, ripping the band-aid off and shocking both of you. Never had you been this forward with Joshua. You were always somewhat reserved with…everything, really. Past relationships, struggling with a subject, a pet passing away. You never wanted to let Joshua in and it made his heart swell that you did now. “I’ve— I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”

Joshua sucks in a sharp breath of air, leaning back in his seat and smiling thoughtfully.

“I answered your questions,” you drum your painted nails on the table. “Now you get to answer mine.”

“Ask away.” Joshua waves his hand. 

“What sort of plans did you have for us?” 

The question was innocent— at least to you it was— but as you watch Joshua’s eyes darken with lust, you realize that the implications…may not have been as innocent as you had believed. You think he knows where your mind has derailed to, knows what thoughts have begun to plague you. 

Joshua tips back his glass of champagne, and you watch him carefully. You allow yourself to admire the way his neck cranes, the way his jaw is hit by the light. He drains the golden liquid in two long sips, wiping away the excess that rested on his lips with a delicate swipe of his thumb. 

“We’ll get to that,” he emphasizes the word, watching you tilt your head down and bite at your lip. “I have some other things I’d like to do before anything else.”

He flags down your waiter, calmly asking for the bill. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, disturbed by how the mild flirting had already gotten you worked up, but wait patiently for Joshua. You wouldn’t deny the fact that you were eager to see what he had in store for the two of you, what he’d planned on such short notice. 

“You ready?” He taps the table with one finger, already beginning to stand. 

“As I’ll ever be.” Your lips twist into a smile as he helps to pull out your chair, grabbing your jacket before you even had a chance to reach for it. “Aren’t you just a gentleman?”

“You should know by now that all I’m doing is the bare minimum.” He scolds, and you don’t pretend you don’t notice his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips. 

“Best friends don’t pull out chairs for each other.” It’s a joke, both of you know it. You’re fully aware that after tonight, neither of you will ever be best friends again. Whether he asks you to stay with him or not, at the end of the night nothing will be the same. This doesn’t, however, stop Joshua from scoffing and tugging you by the waist to come closer to him. You stumble, nearly falling into his chest had his hands not been right there to catch you. 

“I think you know,” his voice is a quiet rumble, “that we’re never going to be best friends again after this, Y/N. You’re mine now, and I don’t think I’ll ever let you go.”

You have to fight everything inside of you to not yank him down by that dark hair of his and kiss him in the middle of that crowded restaurant. Thankfully, it looks as if Joshua is fighting that same urge, one hand dropping down and the other sliding to the small of your back to guide you toward the door. 

You’re mine now.

It’s a wonder that you make it to the car without jumping Joshua’s bones, but it seems you have more self-control than you’d given yourself credit for. The whole ride to…wherever it was that Joshua was taking you, you somehow managed to keep your hands in your lap, rubbing at your palm with your thumb. From the corner of your eye, you can see Joshua. He has one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the center console. He glances at you periodically, scanning your side profile.

“You’ve gotten quiet,” Joshua comments, drumming his fingers while you wait at a stoplight. Your eyes flick to his, and you purse your lips. “Are you…did I make you uncomfortable at all? Do— do you want me to bring you home?” 

“No,” you tell him quickly, shaking your head. “No. I want to stay with you.” 

The response soothes him, and he lets his hand drift to your thigh. He lets it hover over your exposed skin, waiting for you to push him away before he finally lets it rest on you. His hand is warm, his touch sending sparks through your body. You swallow hard, leaning back against the seat and staring at the road in front of you. Would it be wrong to tell him you want him to touch you more? To bring his hands just a bit higher, to—

Joshua’s hand squeezes a bit, drawing you back to reality. The light is green now and your body jerks as he presses on the gas. He lets his hand drift a bit higher, grazing underneath the fabric of your dress before stopping. Heat begins to pool in the pit of your stomach and you contemplate grabbing his hand and putting it right where you need it if he doesn’t move faster.

“You’re a menace.” You click your tongue and Joshua looks at you with a mocking pout.

“I didn’t do anything!” 

He’s right. Technically he hadn’t done anything. You, however, were on the verge of doing something very…inappropriate if he didn’t knock it off.

“I’m sure you didn’t.” You let your hand fall to his, tracing the back of it with your pointer finger, and watch the veins pop as he squeezes for the third time. You’re approaching a very familiar street with some very familiar houses. “Are we…are we going back to my place?” 

Joshua smirks. “Small change of plans.”

The giddiness inside of you returns, your head spinning as you think of all the things he could (and likely would) do to you. Your fingers lace through his, your heel-clad foot tapping against the floor protector in his car as he pulls into your driveway. He puts the car into park but leaves the engine running. For a few moments, neither of you says anything. The air between you is thick with tension, tension that grows when he tugs you toward him. 

“Tell me now if you don’t want this.” Joshua breathes out, his lips mere centimeters from your own. If you tilt your head just a bit, you’ll be able to kiss him— something you’ve craved since the day you met him. “Tell me now and I’ll walk you to your door and say goodnight.” 

“And if I do want this?” Your eyebrow arches, a playful look in your eyes. “What then, Joshua Hong?”

His eyes flutter, exhaling heavily as he tries to keep his composure.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I think.”

When Joshua kisses you, it isn’t as rough as you’d imagined. No, he’s gentle with you. His kiss ignites a fire inside of you, the flames swirling through your veins and heating your body until you fear you’re burning up. He cradles your jaw in one large hand as if you were glass and you would shatter if he held you too roughly. His lips move softly against your own, parting the slightest bit to catch your lower lip with his teeth. It’s a delicate dance, almost playful, and you couldn’t have asked for anything more. Your head tilts, allowing you to kiss him deeper, and a quiet groan leaves him. You smile a bit into the kiss, Your hand sliding up his chest to curl into the fabric of his shirt and pull him closer to you. Both of you ignore the fact that your body is halfway across the center console, your thigh resting on the seat between his legs keeping you propped up when his hands become distracted by the curves in your hips

The two of you only stop when you feel like you can’t breathe, your chest tight with the lack of air. 

“You taste good,” Joshua murmurs, his nose nudging yours as he gazes at you with heavy eyes.

“You think so?” Your lips press against his jaw, and he smiles tightly.

“Mhm.”

“You should turn off the car and take me inside so you can find out what else tastes good.”

That must have been the right thing to say, because Joshua’s eyes darken in an instant and then he’s shutting the engine off, slamming his car door shut, and walking quickly over to your side. When he opens your door, you don’t wait for him to outstretch his hand before you practically spring to your feet, grabbing him by the sleeve and yanking him after you. He laughs as he stumbles along behind you, tugging his arm out of your grasp and squeezing at your waist over the fabric of your dress. Your hands are trembling, the heat in your stomach growing more intense by the minute.

“Struggling, pretty girl?” 

His breath against your ear and his lips on your neck sends chills down your spine and you inhale sharply as his hand wraps around yours to help you guide the key into the lock. Your eyes are starting to flutter, your feet stumbling into the foyer of your home. Joshua presses you onward, one of his hands on the small of your back and the other flicking on the lights. You spin around to face him, your hands coming to his chest and curling around his tie to pull him down to kiss you again.

“At least let me get you upstairs,” he mumbles against your lips, grinning when you whine in protest.

“Can’t wait that long,” you deny, already fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He grins, backing you through the doorway to your living room. 

He stops your movements to spin you away from him. You face your window now, curtains drawn and the windows to your neighbor's house across the street staring right back at you. “All your neighbors will see us. Is that what you want?” He’s kissing down your neck, hands trailing to the back of your dress to undo the clasp. 

“Let them see.” You hold your head high, hands clenching into fists as the fabric slides down your body and hits the ground with a soft thump, leaving your body completely bare except for a thin pair of lacey panties. “Let’s put on a show for them.” 

“Interesting.” Joshua seems entirely unaffected by the statement, but the way he pulls you back against him to grind against the growing bulge in his pants is saying something entirely different. “Didn’t take you as someone to like being watched. I’ll have to explore that another time.” 

You mean to respond, words forming at the tip of your tongue but never escaping your lips as Joshua pushes at your shoulder, slowly guiding you to the ground. Your knees fold beneath you, your eyes wide and filled with stars as he moves into your line of vision and then away from you. You watch as he lets the curtains fall and cover your windows, and then he turns back to face you and continues to unbutton his shirt, loosening his tie until it hangs loosely around his shoulders.

“What are you doing, Shua?” Your voice is weaker than you’d wanted it to be. 

Joshua smiles coyly, leaning down until he’s at eye level with you. “I said that I would explore that at a later date, pretty girl. Not tonight. Tonight, you’re mine.”

“Yours?” Your hand rises to cup his cheek similarly to how he held yours just a few minutes ago. 

“Mine.” 

His knees hit the ground on either side of you, leaning over your body until you’re forced to lay back. Your legs stretch out to make his position a bit more comfortable, your knees rubbing together in anxious anticipation for what’s to come. 

You expect him to kiss you, your lips starting to pucker and your eyes fluttering shut as he lowers his face to yours once again, but nothing happens. Your eyes open to find him mere inches from you with that same smirk playing on his lips. 

“What are you smirking at?” You ask him, but he doesn’t answer. He shifts further down your body, laying a soft kiss on your collarbone that has your breath hitching briefly. Another kiss, this one closer to where your heart lays pounding underneath your ribs. Your hand twitches, aching to run through his hair, but the second you move to act on this urge he’s pinning your hand to the ground and glowering at you. 

“No touching.” Joshua commands, mouthing at the soft flesh of your breast. “Not until I’ve tasted every last inch of your skin.” 

He slips further down your body, leaving trails of soft kisses in his wake. The only sound in the house is the soft pop as his lips leave your skin and the heaviness of your breathing. 

When Joshua reaches the hem of your panties, he stops and trails his finger along it. The brush of his skin on yours is so subtle, yet you’re addicted to the feeling of it. So many nights you had cum to the thought of him tugging your panties down your legs, his eyes boring into yours as he lowers his mouth to your glistening cunt, imagining how it would feel to have him licking and sucking nipping at your folds. So many nights, and yet nothing comes even close to how it really feels. 

The second he runs his tongue from your hole to your clit, your back is arching off the ground and a loud gasp is echoing throughout your home. Your hands fly to Joshua’s hair despite his prior instructions, but he doesn’t seem to care as he drags his tongue and teeth across you. Your legs try to squeeze around his head, attempt to trap him against you, but he doesn’t let you. His large hands pry your legs away from him, squeezing harshly at your thighs and pinning them to the ground on either side of you.

He mumbles into your cunt with loud and drawn out sounds that reverberate through your body and have your legs jerking with pleasure. 

“Shua,” you gasp out, your eyes rolling as he sucks particularly hard at your clit. “Shua, fuck.” 

A loud smack rings out, and your thigh begins to sting. Your eyes widen, your head lifting off the ground at the same time that Joshua’s pulls away from you, his mouth dripping with your arousal. 

“What the fuck—” 

Another smack to the side of your thigh, and you yelp. Joshua raises an eyebrow. 

“Want me to keep going?” You can’t tell if he’s insane or not. You can’t tell if you want to smack him or beg him for more. You don’t get the chance to retort before he’s smacking your thigh again, harder this time. “That wasn’t rhetorical, pretty girl.”

Your teeth grind together, and one of your feet comes to his shoulder to shove him back. Maybe he lets you push him back. Maybe he wants you to fight back. Maybe he was waiting for it, because when you lean your body over him, he’s grinning maliciously at you.

“Who do you think you are, smacking me like that?” You hiss, and he pouts.

“Like what? Like this?” His hand comes down again, this time directly on your ass and sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. 

“Joshua Hong,” you snap, but there’s no real anger behind it as you begin to grind your lower body into his clothed cock. His hands come to rest on your waist, watching as you try to form words and pleasure yourself at the same time. “If you keep pulling shit—”

Smack

Your body shudders and an airy moan pushes out of your lips despite how you fight it. Joshua grins again.

“What were you saying, pretty girl? If I keep pulling shit…what? What are you going to do, baby?” 

You can’t answer him, your hips rolling into his harder and faster as you approach your high. 

“Oh, baby.” Joshua coos, his voice shockingly stable despite how you’re practically riding him over his pants, effectively ruining them with your juices. “You’re a little desperate, aren’t you?”

“Oh shut up,” you whine, folding forward until your mouth is right next to his ear. Your moans and whines are right in his ear now, intentional on your part, and his grip on your waist tightens. “Feels so good, Joshie.”

“Yeah?” He’s quieter now, a low growl in the back of his throat as he fights to keep his hips on the ground. Fights to let you have your little moment, your little bit of control over him. “How good, baby?”

“Gonna cum,” your lips find the skin beneath his ear, sucking a mark into his flesh as your hips begin to stutter. “F— god, Shua, please!”

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” Joshua coos, a bit of pride welling in his chest at how fast you learned. “You can let go. Go ahead and cum for me, pretty girl.”

Almost as soon as he says those words, you’re letting out a loud, near pitiful moan and your body begins to shake over his. A wave of arousal soaks into his pants, seeping through and beginning to wet his boxers, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen is cumming for him, moaning his name and no one else’s. 

Joshua can’t stop his hips from jerking into yours, pleasuring you even as your orgasm begins to ebb away. When he sits up, he cradles the back of your head in one hand, his eyes boring into yours in such a way that has you whining for him, clinging to his shoulders and turning away. 

“So pretty when you cum,” Joshua murmurs, lifting the two of you up and giving you a second to wrap your arms and legs around him as he loops around your living room to the couch. “Gonna fuck you now, okay pretty girl?”

“Okay,” you nod, but your eyes aren’t focusing and neither is your mind. It feels like you’re on cloud 9, and Joshua hasn’t even taken his pants off yet. 

He peers down at you, mild concern showing in his delicate features. 

“Y/N,” his hands are caressing your sides gently, pulling you back down to focus on him. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you promise, smiling lightly at him. “I just…it’s hard for me to actually, like, believe that you want me how I want you.” 

Joshua smiles. “And how, exactly, do you want me?”

“Wholly. I want everything. I want all your love, all of your problems, every doubt, and every moment— good or bad.” His eyes soften as you speak, and for the first time that night he’s the one that’s gone quiet. “I want you carnally, I want you to crave my touch and my taste as much as I crave yours. Every kiss, every intimate moment. I want them all.”

“And you’ll have them.” Joshua promises, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s a deep, lingering kiss. His lips part against your own, your tongues dancing together but not dominating each other. Your hands cup his neck, holding him close to you, and in that moment you don’t hear the clinking of his belt or the sound of his zipper sliding down. 

“You promise?” You pull away from him, your lungs burning from the lack of air. Joshua smiles at you, and his lips press against your forehead. 

“I think you know the answer to that, pretty girl.” 

And you do. 

He would never have to say it, you always know. Joshua Hong, in all the years you’d been best friends, had never once told you something if he didn’t 100% believe it, if he wasn’t absolutely sure that he would or could hold himself to it. He didn’t have to promise you, you could see it in the way he looked at you. Soft eyes, pretty smile, that little wrinkle in his nose. You knew the answer. 

“I’m gonna start pushing in now,” Joshua murmurs, aligning his cock with your entrance, shuddering at the seemingly never ending flow of arousal. “Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop.”

“Okay,” you nod, draping your arms over his shoulders and forcing your body to relax. 

He pushes in slowly, but the stretch of him filling every little crevice inside of your cunt stings and causes you to let out a whimper. 

“I know,” he whispers, “just take it all, baby. Take it all for me like a good girl.” 

Your body shudders at that, and you let your head fall back onto the cushion below you. Inch by painful inch, he slides into you until your body begins to convulse and try to force him out. 

“Baby,” Joshua grinds out between gritted teeth, “You gotta stop clenching like that.”

“I— I can’t.” You moan out, your back arching off the couch. “Hurts so good, Shua.”

“That so?” Joshua grunts and shoves the last few inches into you, relishing in the pretty little wail that escapes you. “That’s another thing I’ll have to make note of, huh?” 

He doesn’t give you much time to respond before he’s hauling your legs up and around his waist, one hand gripping the arm of the couch and the other planted beside your head. A silver chain dangles above you, glittering in the low lighting of the living room but capturing your attention just long enough to tell Joshua to start moving. 

“Can’t,” he tells you breathlessly. “Fuck, clenching so tight I can’t move.”

“I don’t care.” You whine. “Just fuck me, please Shua, please, please, please fuck me—”

He cuts you off with a sharp thrust of his hips, shoving his dick just that tiny bit further into you that has you gasping as the air is punched out of your chest. 

“You’re lucky I love you.” He groans as he slowly pulls back, his dick practically drenched in your arousal, and then thrusts sharply back in, sheathing entirely inside of you. You cry loudly, a tear slipping down your cheeks and your legs tightening around his waist. Joshua repeats the action again and again, drinking in the way your head lolls to the side, your tongue practically hanging out of your mouth. 

Then he begins to fuck you, just as you asked. He thrusts into you with hard, deep strokes that have you wailing and thrashing against the couch cushion. Your body is convulsing beneath him, and he can only watch like a god watching his worshippers, as you beg for him to fuck you harder, faster, deeper as if he isn’t already going hard and fast and deep to a point beyond your fucked out mind’s comprehension. The couch shifts slightly on the ground, scraping against your hardwood floor, but the sound is drowned out by the combined volume of your cries and moans and whimpers along with his grunts and little moans. 

“Close,” he grunts, his head dropping to your chest to bite and suck at one of your tits. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

You clench around him in response, your back arching off the cushion to get closer to his mouth, relishing in the pleasure he’s providing you. “S—so good, Shua. Fuckin’ me so good.”

“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead as he stares down at you. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over your best friend?”

Your body shudders in response, and suddenly your vision goes white. You can faintly hear your own voice, your own pleads and screams of Joshua’s name as he pounds into you, forcing your juices out of you and giving you no time to recover from your orgasm before he’s shifting his hips and driving his cock into a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. Your hand clamps down over your mouth to muffle the animalistic sounds that pour out of you, but Joshua rips your hand away, pinning it down on the couch.

“Don’t you dare muffle a single sound that comes out of you,” he hisses. “Not a single one.”

You don’t have the strength, will, or energy to respond to him. Not as his cock begins to twitch inside of you and another orgasm threatens to wash over your body. One of Joshua’s hands, the one that had been pinning your hand to the couch, moves over your hip, and his eyes stay on you as his thumb begins to rub hard circles into your clit.

“Oh my—” your voice cracks. “Fuck, oh my god, Shua!”

“Cum for me,” he grunts, forcing his orgasm back so he doesn’t cum before you, despite you already having done so twice now. “Now, baby. God, please cum for me.”

And you do. 

It crashes over you like a rockslide, rough and strong, and crushing everything in its path. Your cunt clenches around Joshua so tightly you fear you might break him, but he only moans out your name and begins to spill white-hot cum inside of you. The combined fluids from the both of you are forced out as Joshua continues to fuck into you, slowly now compared to before. Soft, deep thrusts that carefully bring you down from the edge until both of you have finished, laying spent on your now ruined couch. 

“That…” your voice is raspy. “Is that how you’re gonna fuck me every night?”

“Is that how you want me to fuck you every night?” Joshua’s tongue laves over your skin, pressing gentle kisses against your neck. 

You think he knows the answer, but you tell him anyway with a sly grin on your face.

“You promised.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#itsbeeble #reese's works 📩 #reese's moots #brie~ 🫧 #ally~ ⛄️ #fawn~ 🧼 #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop fluff #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #joshua hong #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong smut #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong fluff #seventeen joshua #svt joshua #svt x reader #svt joshua imagines

[itsbeeble]

SEEING STARS

SUMMARY: It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of schoolwork for you.

GENRE: smut, fluff, mild angst, crack

PAIRING: Kim Sunwoo x afab!reader (ft. Hoshi, Dino, Sangyeon, Kevin, Eric, Yuta, and Jay (Enhypen))

WC: 9.4k (you'd think i was doing this on purpose)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: mentions of injuries (concussions, Sunwoo gets sucker punched), Eric slander, Sunwoo slander, Hoshi stirring up trouble, Sunwoo being stupid, car sex/public sex, p in v sex, fingering, mentions of face fucking, marking, hair pulling, attempts at dirty talk kinda? idk if you can even call it that but wtv, i think that's really it

A/N: Part 3 of the collab is out! If you haven't checked out Try Hard or Excitement (written by my beloved Fawn) please do! Otherwise, please enjoy this. Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

In Sunwoo’s defense, everything that happened was Eric’s fault. It was definitely not Sunwoo’s fault that he believed his best friend when he told him that he should absolutely kick a ball at the girl of his dreams so she could bring it back to him and she would fall for him too and then they could live happily ever after. It also wasn’t Sunwoo’s fault that he forgot that he was their university’s star soccer player and that he had really strong legs. 

At least, this is what he tells himself while sitting in the ambulance with you, who is currently passed out with a lump the size of a clementine on your forehead. He’s nervously gnawing at his fingernails, chewing them to nubs with his eyebrows furrowed. The EMTs said that you’re stable, that you just have a mild concussion but they want to take you in and get you checked out to be sure. 

“Are you her…friend? Boyfriend?” One of the EMTs looks at Sunwoo with a curious look in his eye. 

“Friend, just a friend,” he says, but there’s a dark cloud hovering above his head that anyone could see if they tried hard enough. 

“Is there anyone that we can call? Anyone else that we should inform?” Sunwoo shrugs.

“Not that I know of. Her family is across the country so they wouldn’t be any help right now, right?”

“Right,” the EMT agrees. “I suppose you’ll be helping her out the next couple of weeks, making sure no one else is hitting her in the head with soccer balls?” Sunwoo grimaces and nods. 

You’re never gonna like me at this rate, he thinks to himself. God, why did he ever listen to Eric in the first place? What made him think that Eric, the man who spends 90% of his time completely bitchless and watching hentai, would give him good advice about women? 

Now he’s gonna have to deal with student loan debt, lawyer debt, and being single for the rest of his life. 

The first thing you see when you wake up is white. Not, like, a white ceiling. No, your vision is pure white for a few moments, and then you swear that you’re seeing stars. You can faintly, over the pounding of your head, hear someone speaking. The voice is familiar, but you can’t quite place it over the ringing in your ears. 

“…Eric, I swear to fucking god if I ever see you again, I will shove my foot so far up your ass— I don’t care if you thought it would be a good idea! I concussed the richest girl in school, the girl of my dreams mind you, because you thought it would be a fantastic idea to kick a ball at her!” 

You blink a few times, clearing your vision, and you can see a boy to the right of you. He’s wearing a soccer uniform, the same uniform your university’s team wears. You blink again, and now he’s facing you with a nervous smile plastered onto his face. 

“Hi,” he breathes out and you smile at him. 

“Hi…Woo…sung?” You wince at the poor attempt. Of course, you know who he is. Anyone would recognize the star soccer player. Maybe you weren’t positive about what his name was, but you knew him. 

He laughs, but it’s a humorless one that has both of you cringing after.

“Close,” he tells you with a smile. “Sunwoo.”

“Right,” you nod, but the action causes a painful throb to run through your skull. “Fuck, why does my head hurt so much?” 

Sunwoo laughs again, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and avoiding your gaze.

“About that…” his hand combs through his hair, pushing it out of his face despite it not being there in the first place. “I…may or may not have kicked a ball in your general direction, which may or may not have proceeded to hit you in the head and give you a concussion.” 

You kiss your teeth, eyebrows knitting together as you look at him. He begins to ramble, talking about how it’s his friend’s fault, and he really never meant for it to hit you. It’s cute, really, the way he practically falls to his knees and begs you to not sue him. 

“Sunwoo,” you try to interrupt, but it’s like he doesn’t hear you. He’s speaking too fast, too frantic, and you’re pretty sure he’ll faint if he doesn’t pause for air soon.

“I— I will do anything you want, I swear! I’ll— I’ll carry your stuff around campus for you. I’ll take all your notes so you don’t have to look at the screens. Fuck— I swear, I—”

“Sunwoo,” You reach your arm forward, wrapping your fingers around his forearm and his pacing jerks to a stop, his words caught on the tip of his tongue when you lock eyes. “I’m not gonna sue you.”

“You’re—” his voice cracks, “you’re not?”

“No,” you laugh and wince when your head begins to throb again. “Although, I wouldn’t mind if you helped me out with my schoolwork.” 

“I…” he trails off, his heart sinking to his stomach. “Yeah, yeah of course I’ll help you. But— but you really aren’t going to sue me? Because— because I wouldn’t mind if you were that mad at me but I think I would really rather you just have me arrested at that point, you know?”

“I promise, Sunwoo.” You squeeze his forearm, and his cheeks begin to darken with a tinge of pink. “I’m not gonna sue you.”

As it turns out, having the star soccer player around to do anything and everything you want him to is rather convenient. Sunwoo picks you up every day for your first class in his old, beat-up Toyota Corolla. He opens the door for you, hands you a fresh go-cup of your favorite coffee from your favorite cafe (which you aren’t sure how he knows, to be honest), and brings you to each and every one of your classes. It’s almost weird how you’ve gotten used to having him around.

“By the way,” you look up at Sunwoo as you’re getting into his car after your last class of the day. Sunwoo looks down at you, smiling brightly and you can feel yourself starting to melt at the puppy-like look in his eye. “Are you even taking classes this semester?”

Sunwoo tilts his head. “I mean…yeah? I kinda have to, you know, to play soccer.”

“But…you’re always with me these days. Are you not missing your own assignments? Your own exams?” 

“I don’t have any exams during your classes,” he informs you and then shuts the passenger-side door, gently to not hurt your head. You let your body rest against the tattered fabric seat you’re in, waiting for Sunwoo to get to his side of the car. “Plus, I have friends in my classes that send me shit when I’m not there.”

“You skip your classes often?” Your lips curl into a sly smile, one that he returns quickly.

“You know it, babe.” 

Your body tenses just slightly, not enough for him to notice. It was likely instinctive for him to say that, and you would never admit to anyone how the words had butterflies forming in your stomach, pushing against your flesh, and threatening to tumble out of you if he made one wrong move. 

Sunwoo slams the door of the frat shut and presses his back against it as soon as he enters the building. His eyes are squeezed shut, so tightly that he can see stars and it starts to hurt. 

“You alright?” Eric is sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees with a Nintendo controller in his hands. He isn’t looking at Sunwoo, his eyes trained on the fourth Five Nights At Freddy’s game being displayed on the TV in front of him.

“I don’t even want to talk about it.” Sunwoo dismisses, dropping his bag on the floor and tossing his keys into the bowl to his right. “Especially not with you.”

“The fuck did I do?” Eric’s eyebrows knit together, and Sunwoo scoffs as he walks behind the couch to get to the kitchen. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you were part of the reason that Y/N L/N is now concussed and probably hates my guts so I’m trying to fix it by helping her out with all of her school work, which is hard as shit, by the way. Did you know that she’s a mechanical engineering major?”

“No shit?” Eric’s eyes flick away from the TV screen for just long enough for him to nearly miss an animatronic approaching him. “I wonder if she’s in any of my classes.”

“Probably not,” Sunwoo sighs, grabbing a glass from the shelf and pouring himself some water. “She’s in Sangyeon’s year so her classes are a bit more advanced than yours.”

“Ah,” Eric bobs his head, tongue wedged between his otherwise tightly sealed lips. Sunwoo watches him play for a moment, wincing at a few jumpscares while he downs his water. “What’s that gotta do with me, anyway? Isn’t this, like, bonding time for you two? Finally land your girl?”

“Well, would’ve been perfect if, a) she hadn’t hated me and b) I didn’t call her babe in the car today.” 

Silence from Eric, and Sunwoo briefly wonders if his best friend had even heard him. 

“Why the fuck did you do that?” Eric pauses the game and tosses his controller onto the couch next to him as he turns around. 

“It was an accident!” Sunwoo defends. “It just kinda…slipped out while I was talking to her. A reflex!”

“You called the girl you concussed babe on reflex?” Eric exclaims in disbelief. “Are you stupid?”

“Says the one who suggested kicking the ball at her!”

“Yeah, well at least I didn’t give the girl of my dreams a concussion!”

“It was your fault!” Sunwoo yells, and Eric scoffs.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you feel better.” 

“He called me babe, Soonyoung,” you’re laying face down on your friend’s bed, kicking your feet in the air behind you with his tiger plushie tucked under your arms. 

“Mhm,” he’s not paying attention, instead focusing on the tiger Lego set that you had given him for his birthday. “Very nice.”

“Ugh, and he’s so sweet too.” You continue to ramble, grinning like a mad woman when you recall the notes he had diligently taken for you despite not knowing a damn thing about Applied Measurements. “Did I tell you about the notes he took for me the other day? The ones that he—”

“—Color-coded and annotated for you?” Soonyoung interrupts, finally slamming down the little pieces of plastic in his hand. You flinch at the noise. “Left little notes about things he found interesting or didn’t quite understand but tried to explain anyway? Yeah, you told me.”

You duck your head, trying to ignore the throbbing. It had mostly gone away, but occasionally loud noises would spike pain through your skull. 

“Sorry…” you mumble, letting your legs fall flat on the mattress. Soonyoung turns to face you, pursing his lips. 

“Y/N, if you like this kid so much then why not ask him out?”

“It’s not like that!” You protest, but a sharp look from your best friend makes you backtrack. “At least, not for him. He’s just doing this because he feels bad for me! And besides, I’m a few years older than him, so wouldn’t it be weird?”

“How is that weird?” Soonyoung inquires, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “He’s of age, isn’t he?”

“Of age,” you scoff and make air quotes. “What is this, the 1600s?” 

Soonyoung glares at you and sits back in his chair. “I don’t care if you’re concussed, I’ll make that lump in your skull bigger if you push me.” 

At his warning, you huff.

“Okay, fine, yes, he is. But it’s weird for me! I’m a senior in college, about to enter the work force if I can get my senior project proposal done, and he’s just a sophomore! He’s the university’s star soccer player, he’s just starting to get ahead. I don’t want to, like, stunt that for him.” 

“Y/N,” Soonyoung rolls his chair toward you with a sympathetic smile on his face. “I can almost guarantee that Sunwoo will not care if you’re a few years older than him. I don’t think he’ll care if he’s just starting college. If I’m being honest, he finds that all the more reason to be attracted to you. Young men love older women— but you aren’t old!” He quickly backtracks before you can cut him off. “You’re not old, and believe me when I tell you that not a single person in the world would be doing this for someone that they weren’t attracted to.”

“Are you sure?” You sit up, wrapping your whole body around the tiger plushie, and Soonyoung nods.

“I promise.”

“Then…how do I get him to know that I…that I’m also attracted to him?” 

Soonyoung grins and you feel your heart drop. 

“Boy, do I have some ideas for you.”

Sunwoo is getting worried. The last four days have been ridiculously quiet for him, his days empty and dragging on without you around him. 

You were avoiding him, he could tell. Whenever he showed up to pick you up from your dorm, someone else was already there. A man, your age and clearly friends with you if the wide smile on your face said anything. You would lock eyes with him, your smile falling when you saw the confusion and hurt in his eyes. You would turn your gaze away and the man would get your door for you, laughing about something you said. 

Then there was the avoidance of his texts. He would ask if everything was okay, how your head was doing, random jokes or comments about things he saw on campus. Things that he would tell you had you been with him during the day. It wasn’t like it was unusual for the two of you to text now. In fact, it was weird when you weren’t messaging each other about something but now…

It’s like you’re trying to block out his existence. 

“I’m telling you,” Kevin hands Sunwoo a case of beer, cutting into the younger man’s frantic rambling. “She’s probably just busy, dude.”

“Then why wouldn’t she tell me?” Sunwoo pouts, carrying the case into the house. Kevin follows with a case of his own.

“Hell if I now,” he scoffs. “You think I have time to psychoanalyze everything rich girls do?”

“I mean…isn’t that your whole thing?” Sangyeon chimes in. “Psychoanalyzing everything about everyone?”

“That’s not the point,” Kevin waves his hand in the air and huffs. “I’m busy enough with my own classes and practices, I can only do so many things at once.”

“Sunwoo,” Sangyeon turns to the soccer player with a stern look in his eye. “This is gonna be one of our biggest parties yet, I need you on top of your game to make sure people are enjoying themselves.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Kim Sunwoo,” Sangyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulders with an exasperated look on his face. “If I hear you ranting about the girl you concussed one more time I might just lose it. I’m putting you on door duty for the night.”

“What the fuck do you mean door duty?” 

Sangyeon scans the room for a moment before his eyes land on a metal detector stick that Hyunjae had bought as a part of his last Halloween costume. 

“Here,” He tosses it to Sunwoo and smiles sarcastically. “Use this, make sure people aren’t bringing weapons in or whatever.” 

Sunwoo looks down at the metal detector in his hands, eyebrows knitting together. 

“You’re serious?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Are you sure that your plan worked?” You’re peering up at Soonyoung with a nervous look in your eye when you roll up to the TBZ party. “You’re sure he’s—”

“I’m positive, my dear.” Your best friend pats the top of your head, squinting at the frat house down the road. “I didn’t think this many people were gonna be here tonight.” 

“Sunwoo mentioned that it was gonna be a big one,” you murmur. Soonyoung turns his gaze to you and sighs at the pout on your lips. You look pitiful, to be honest. At least in attitude, that is. 

“Y/N,” you look at him again, “if Sunwoo doesn’t fall head over heels at this party and fuck you until you literally cannot walk then I give you full permission to give me a concussion, just like he did to you. Look at you! You look absolutely stunning!” 

You find yourself smiling at Soonyoung’s words. He’s not wrong, you do look stunning. A loose, short black dress that dips down at your chest to reveal just enough cleavage. The straps are jeweled, glittering under the lights and highlighting the jewelry around your neck. The dress itself stops just low enough that it covers everything but shows enough to tease, and you’re wearing sleek black pumps with an ankle strap so your feet don’t fly out of them (you’d made that mistake before. Never again…). 

“Now,” He claps his hands together and grins. “Let’s go get you your man, and get me a drink.” 

In hindsight, you probably should have known that the party would not have been good for your head. Loud noises had never particularly been something you enjoyed. A lot of people assumed you loved parties due to your financial status, but that wasn’t true. In fact, you were a bit of a recluse. You had only a few friends, though you were nice to nearly everyone you met. Sunwoo happened to be an exception. 

He wiggled his way into your life with that soccer ball, and you truly don’t think you can see a future without him in it, even if he just stays a friend.

The second you walk up the driveway, your head begins to pound, your vision flashing with stars, and you squeeze Soonyoung’s arm tightly to keep yourself from wobbling on your feet. 

Then you see Sunwoo at the door, a large bucket to his right, and a hand-held metal detector in his hand. You can see him scanning people, waving girls in, and then stopping men and pointing at the bucket. You feel a lump forming in his throat when you take in the sight of him. His hair is a mess of curls, the same curls you’d come to love since he gave you a concussion. He’s dressed in a tight-fitting black tee shirt and baggy jeans, nothing fancy but it brings the butterflies back to your stomach in full force. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” The man in front of you scoffs at something Sunwoo said, and you blink yourself back to reality. 

“$5 at the door,” Sunwoo shrugs, “sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

“It’s your frat!” The man yells. Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow.

“Yeah…do I look like the president or something?” The man stays silent and Sunwoo sighs. “Look, I don’t have the time to deal with you. Are you in or not? There’s a line of people behind you, and all of them wanna get in so you should probably pick fast.”

The student huffs, digging into his pocket for a dirty $5 bill, tossing it into the bucket, and shoving past Sunwoo. The soccer player just rolls his eyes and sighs again. 

“Who’s up next—” he chokes on his words when he sees you, his eyes widening and his jaw-dropping. You smile nervously, raising your hand in a tiny wave while Soonyoung throws a few ones into the bucket. 

“I’ll see you in there,” your friend says to you. “Text me if you need me.” Soonyoung squeezes your hand and nods at Sunwoo before walking into the house. You step to the side, letting people move past you but keeping a little bit of distance between you and the frat boy who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you yet. 

“You’re here,” Sunwoo says, not even looking at the continuous line of people walking into the house without paying. “You’re— why are you here?” 

A sheepish smile crawls onto your face. “Do you…not want me here?” Sunwoo panics, shaking his head rapidly and grabbing your hand in his. 

“That’s not— that’s not what I meant.” He tells you, and you can’t help the warmth in your cheeks. “I just— your head. This can’t be good for your concussion, can it?” 

You kiss your teeth, nodding slowly. “Yeah…Kinda got a little bit of a migraine right now.” You don’t tell him that the concussion has completely healed.

“Let’s— let’s get you someplace quieter, ba— Y/N.” He tugs at your hand, pushing you in front of him and covering your ears with your hand. He leans in close to you, his lips brushing the shell of one ear and you feel your breathing hitch in your throat. 

“Cover your eyes a bit and look down, I can’t block your vision but I can shield your ears a bit, babe.” He lets it slip out this time, and you do as he says. 

Sunwoo walks you forward, and you can see feet shuffling around the two of you. His hands do more than you expected, the sounds around you fairly muffled and dulling the throb in your skull. His body is so close to yours, his legs bumping into you with every step, but he keeps the two of you steady. Someone knocks into you, and Sunwoo says something to them, something harsh that you can’t make out over the noise of the party. He stops walking for a brief moment, now talking to someone else. You faintly hear a name, Chang-something, and then he’s fleeing the scene, knocking into you on his way out. 

Sunwoo steps to your side when you reach a staircase, talking into your ear so you know exactly where each step is. Another person bumps into you, and Sunwoo takes a hand off your ear to wrap it around your waist.

“You can drop your hand,” he tells you. “The lights aren’t flashing over here.” You nod, and you feel his hand drop at the same time yours does. You’re still walking up the stairs and even though you don’t need help anymore, his hand stays on your waist, the touch sending electric shocks throughout your body. 

Sunwoo feels like he’s going to throw up.

Scratch that. Sunwoo is going to throw up. 

He really hadn’t expected to see you here. In fact, he hadn’t expected to see you at all for the rest of his college days. Had you finally decided to sue him? Are you serving him? He hadn’t seen any documents with you, but maybe—

“I’m not suing you, Sunwoo,” you sit on his bed with one leg crossed over the other. Your dress rides up your thighs, something Sunwoo tries desperately to ignore but he just can’t. “You can relax.” 

You can relax, he repeats the words in his head over and over and over again, but he can’t. In fact, his body just grows more tense with the time that passes. Sunwoo tries to look at you, and then he tries not to look at you. There’s a heat in your gaze, and he can’t tell what the emotion behind it is. He hopes it’s not anger, he prays that you haven’t gotten angry with him. 

“Are you—” he clears his throat. “Who was the guy you were with?” You tilt your head and he clarifies his question. “I just— I’ve seen him with you a lot these days so I was just— I just thought—”

“Who, Soonyoung? He’s not my boyfriend,” you tell him and laugh when he visibly deflates with relief. 

“Good. I— I mean that’s— I just—” his face feels like it’s on fire, his stomach churning when you continue to laugh at him. When you wince and bring your hand up, he practically trips over himself to find an unopened bottle of water for you. 

“How’s your head?” Sunwoo asks you, quietly now. You shrug and slide over so he can sit next to you on the edge of his bed.

“Concussion is better, just can’t do loud noises.” Sunwoo nods and you continue. “At the last check-up, my doctor said that I might get some headaches here and there though, at least for a little while.”

“Then why are you here? At a party?” 

“I…guess I just wanted to see you?” You had this all planned out with Soonyoung. Why are you so nervous?

Sunwoo’s eyebrows knit together. “Why would you want to see me?” 

“You’re joking, right?” You can’t help the scoff that leaves your lips, regretting letting it out when Sunwoo flinches and looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just…there’s no way that you don’t know by now.”

“Know what?” He presses, hoping that you’re saying what he’s been dreaming of you saying since he saw you on his first day at this university. You’re so close to him now, mere inches from him, and he fights every instinct inside of him that says to close that distance. He wants to hear everything you have to say.

You open your mouth to speak again, and there’s a knock on the door. Both of your heads whip around as it swings open, and Sunwoo’s heart sinks when he sees Soonyoung, the man you had entered the building with. He almost looked distraught that he’d entered the room. 

“Hi, so sorry to interrupt. Um…” he looks at you with a grimace. “We gotta go.”

“What?” Your eyebrows furrow. “Why? I was talking with Sunwoo—”

“Yeah, sorry again, but we gotta go.” Sunwoo watches you get up, albeit reluctantly, and you turn to him. 

“I’ll…we’ll talk later, okay?” You smile at Sunwoo, but you turn away before he can say anything to you. 

“Promise?” He calls out, but the door is already shutting behind you.

You really did intend on texting Sunwoo after, to continue your conversation, but ‘after’ turns into two days, and then four, and then it’s been a week, and suddenly it’s almost finals. You know that Sunwoo’s game is today. The last game of the season. He’d raved about it a few times while studying with you. You knew how excited for it he was, knew how hard he was practicing to make sure he was in his best shape. 

“What do you mean he’s about to be taken off the field?” You snap into your phone, scanning the lot around you for somewhere to park. It’s dark out, the lights in the lot hardly working so it makes it difficult to see any free spots. “Fuck, why is it always so fucking busy at these games?”

“He’s missed every shot— DAMN YOU DECELIS. YUTA GET THAT DAMN BALL—” You pull the phone away from your ear when Soonyoung starts to yell, hearing the crowd in the stadium erupt into cheers. “Another point to Decelis Uni. Anyway, no he’s been like…really off in his games, the only reason he isn’t off already is because of Lee Chan.”

“Thank god for him,” you sigh as you put your car into park. “Listen, I just parked, so just give me five minutes to get in there. Maybe he needs a good luck charm or something. Fuck it’s cold out here. Why did I wear a skirt to this damn game?”

“Did you just call yourself his good luck charm?”

“No, I just—” you huff.

“No, you’re right. I think you are because when you guys were talking, he’d been playing better than ever. Things went to shit after my plan.”

“Yeah, thanks for that by the way.”

“Any time, best friend. Get here soon. Maybe there will be a time out and you can kiss him or something.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

You shove your phone into your pocket, running toward the stadium as the crowd erupts into cheers again.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Lee Chan grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder when half-time is called. Both boys are dripping with sweat, exhausted from the game. There had been so much back and forth between the two teams, keeping them tied almost constantly for the past 45 minutes. “You’ve been playing like shit for three games in a row, Kim Sunwoo. This isn’t like you. I’m not afraid to get Coach to bench you if you don’t get your shit together.”

Sunwoo huffs, grabbing his water bottle from the bench and ignoring his teammate so he can hydrate. 

“I’m fine, just not feeling great.” He dismisses. Chan’s lip curls into a sneer. 

“If we lose this game because of you, I swear to fucking god I will get you kicked from the team.” 

“You wouldn’t do that,” Sunwoo rises to his feet and glares down at the team captain. He may be the star player, but it takes more than skill to hold a team together. Lee Chan has that ability. Morals, respect from his teammates, he has everything. That’s why Sunwoo backs down when Chan straightens his posture. 

“You think I fucking won’t? Remember who got you on this team in the fucking first place.”

Sunwoo’s ears start to ring, and he can hear someone yelling his name. It sounds distant, and he swears he’s imagining it so he ignores it. 

It happens again, louder this time and grabbing Chan’s attention as well. Both players whip their heads toward the crowd, and Sunwoo’s stomach drops. 

There you are, shoving your way through the crowd to get to the barrier. People yell at you, and you say something that shuts them up. He’s in awe, staring at you and the distressed look on your face. You wave your hands to get his attention, and Chan shoves him again.

“If she’s why you aren’t on top of your game, you better fix shit right now. I’m not losing this one, Kim Sunwoo.”

“Yeah, got it.” It’s like he’s running on autopilot, walking toward you and then running. There are three minutes left in half-time, so he needs to make this fast. 

“What are you doing here?” Sunwoo grabs onto the barricade and hauls himself up so he’s face-to-face with you, ignoring the people yelling around the two of you. 

You grin at him, a mischievous look in your eye. 

“You don’t want me here?” The panic in his eyes makes you laugh, and you lean toward him. He smells of sweat and grass and your nose wrinkles. 

“I don’t— you know that isn’t what I meant.” He snaps, but you know he isn’t mad at you. 

“Soonyoung said you were playing like shit, figured I’d find out why.” You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you so he can’t leave before you talk to him.

“I’m just distracted today.” You scoff and he narrows his eyes at you. “What?”

“You’ve been practicing for this game for weeks now, Kim Sunwoo. What could possibly have you so distracted today?” 

He hesitates, and you already know his answer. 

“I don’t have time to talk right now, Y/N.” He’s biting his lip, anxiously flicking his eyes to the clock behind him. You roll your eyes. Of course, he wouldn’t answer you. You knew he wouldn’t give you a straight answer, knew he was too nervous between the game and having you right in front of him to fully focus. 

“Then I’ll make this fast.”

“Make what—” your lips are on his, your hand on the back of his neck to hold him close while you kiss him. His body stiffens and then relaxes, and then his hand comes to your arm to keep himself stable. His face slides against yours, transferring his sweat to your body and you pull back.

“Win this game,” you look into his eyes, but it’s like he can’t focus on you. He looks like he’s in a daze, and you tug at the strands of his hair to get his attention.

“I— yeah, I’ll win.” He promises but he sounds far away. The buzzer goes off. “I— what was—”

“If you win this game, you can take me on a date.” You grin and let go of him. Chan yells Sunwoo’s name and the boy pulls back from you reluctantly. 

“Anywhere I want?”

“Anywhere.”

“Promise?” His eyes are shining when he looks at you. You smile, placing another gentle kiss on his plush lips.

“I promise.”

He’s running away from you now, a new lightness in his feet that had been missing the past two weeks. There’s fresh energy in his muscles, in his bones, and that overconfident attitude that his teammates and opponents despised returns in full force.

“I take it I’m not gonna have to pull you off the field?” The Coach eyes Sunwoo as he jogs by. Sunwoo slows and turns back with a wicked grin on his face. 

“Not a chance in hell, Coach.”

“Can’t believe you kissed him.” Soonyoung nudges you with a grin, and you roll your eyes.

“Why? Didn’t think I had it in me?”

“No, it’s not that,” he shakes his head and lets out a sharp whistle when Sunwoo steals the ball from the opposing team. “He was covered in sweat and grass. Don’t you hate that shit?”

“Worth it,” Soonyoung snorts when you smile at him. 

Since the start of the second half, Sunwoo had already brought their team into the lead by two points. You’d never seen him play before, but everything you’d heard was true. He was fast, agile, and strong. He was a beast on the field, keeping himself just out of reach of all the other players. You can tell the other team is starting to get agitated, starting the get rough with your school’s team. 

You bite at your thumb as you watch the game proceed. Two minutes left in the game, and they’re tied again. You can see all the players getting tired, everyone slowing down. Sunwoo seems to be the only one with the energy to keep going, but even he seems to struggle. 

30 seconds and Sunwoo has the ball again. The stadium has gone quiet and you could swear that you hear the ticking of the clock. 

10 seconds and Sunwoo is almost to the goal, you stand from your seat, and people around you rise as well. Anticipation. Tension. The stadium is filled with it. People start cheering again, the other school starts yelling at their team to move their asses. 

5 seconds and the crowd goes silent. Sunwoo is on the ground, a player from the other team on top of him. Players from all sides are running over, trying to see what happened. The announcers say that the opposing player, Park Jongseong, tackled Sunwoo, his hand unintentionally jamming the star player’s nose. A medic rushes over, but Sunwoo waves them away. You can’t see his face very well, but you can tell by his posture that he’s agitated.

Jongseong is penalized, and his coach takes him off the field for a moment. Sunwoo is set in front of the center of the goal, pacing while he waits for the ‘ok’ from the referee. He glances up at the crowd, and for a moment you swear that he looks at you. For a moment, you swear that you can see him smiling at you, through the throbbing in his face and the ache in his body. You could swear that he’s telling you I’m gonna win this. Trust me.

Jongseong is back on the field, the clock is set. The referee raises his hand, an indirect kick. Sunwoo rolls his neck, jogging backwards to get a headstart. Yuta and Chan are both ready to receive a pass. 

The clock starts.

5

Sunwoo is running. You and the rest of the crowd are yelling at him to run faster. He does.

4

The ball is sailing through the air, Chan and Yuta and all the other players on the field are running for the ball. Yuta gets there first.

3

Yuta kicks the ball, but another player knocks it out of the air. Sunwoo is already waiting, stealing the ball and moving to an open space.

2

Sunwoo kicks the ball and watches it sail through the air. He doesn’t stop running, not when there’s still time on the clock

1

The crowd erupts into cheers, deafening you and you feel Soonyoung grab your shoulders, shaking you and yelling just as loud as everybody else. You feel a yell building in your chest.

0

They’ve won. Sunwoo is being hauled into the air by his teammates, The other team is sulking by their coach. You can’t go to him. Not yet. The crowd is beginning to clear, some people moving from the stands to leave the stadium and chat with their friends, to wait for the team to come out. 

“You coming?” Soonyoung quirks an eyebrow at you but you know that he already knows the answer. A shake of your head confirms his suspicions and he grins. “Go get your man. I won’t interrupt this time.” He makes his way down the stands to the parking lot, and you smile while walking down to the field. The teams have dispersed now, done with talking to their coaches and making their way to the locker room. Sunwoo hangs back, talking with Chan as you walk across the turf. Your heart is pounding in your chest, so hard you fear it’ll burst from behind your ribcage. 

Chan sees you first, jerking his head in your direction and clapping Sunwoo on the shoulder. Sunwoo turns as he walks away, and you can see the way his eyes light up when he recognizes you. 

“I told you I’d win, didn’t I?” He grins at you when you get closer, but you don’t respond. You’re only a few steps from him now, and you take a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Your face is bruised…” you have to force yourself not to jump his bones right there, instead focusing on the blooming bruise on his right cheek. Your fingers brush over it and he doesn’t even flinch.

“It’s nothing,” he reassures you, resting his hands on your waist. “It’ll be gone in a week, I promise. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” 

You smile back at him, craning your neck to look him in the eye. 

“You think my head is pretty?” 

“I think everything about you is pretty, babe.” Your cheeks heat up and he presses a kiss to your lips. It’s gentle, far less frantic than the one you gave him on the bleachers. Your hand trails from his cheek to the side of his neck, holding him close to you. Your lips part against his, your head tilting to give a better angle to kiss him at and he inhales sharply. Your body is on fire everywhere he’s touching you. Your waist, your lips, your neck. It feels electric and it pains you when he forces himself to separate from you, his nose brushing against yours. 

“All that for winning a game?” he breathes out, pressing a light kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I should win more often if this is gonna be my reward from now on.”

Your lips curl into a smirk. “I’ll give you more than just a kiss if you want, Kim Sunwoo.” 

It takes him a moment to process what you said. Sunwoo stares at you, eyes wide and jaw hanging open for so long that you almost consider taking back what you said. 

“You’re— what happened to take me to dinner? What happened to hello, how are you?” His grip on your waist tightens and you shrug. 

“I have more important things in mind.” Sunwoo’s whole body is tense, so tense that you feel like he’ll combust on the spot if you aren’t careful.

“I’m covered in dirt and sweat.” He tries as an excuse but you scoff. “I don’t think you wanna fuck me while I’m like this, right?” 

“Do you really care about that?” He takes a deep breath.

“Me? No. I just…If I go with you right now I swear to god I’ll cum in my pants and I really don’t want that to happen during our first time together—”

“Sunwoo,” You grab his chin between two fingers and he snaps his mouth shut. “I don’t care about any of that. I care about you. I want you, whether or not you’re covered in sweat.” You reach one of your hands up, pushing his soaking wet hair out of his face and his features soften. 

“You really…you like me, don’t you?”

“I figured it was obvious when I kissed you in front of the whole stadium, Sunwoo.” You kiss your teeth and step away from him. His grip loosens on you and eventually falls when you continue to back away from him, that sly grin still on your face. 

“Where are you going?” He trails after you like a lost puppy but you just shrug. 

“Come with me if you wanna find out.”

You silently thank god when you find the parking lot already half empty. Sunwoo’s car is a distance from most other cars, tucked under some trees that cast shadows over that old Toyota Corolla. 

“You’re—” Sunwoo is cut off when you open the door to his back seat and shove him in. You hear some people behind you howling, briefly turning your head to see his teammates cheering him on. 

“Get some, Kim Sunwoo!” Lee Chan screams and you laugh before crawling into the car behind Sunwoo. 

You turn just enough to slam the car door shut, and then you’re on top of Sunwoo. He tugs you onto his lap, your skirt riding up enough to expose your thighs to him, but you give him no time to process anything, your lips already crushed against his. It’s sloppy, but the whine he emits just from the pressure behind it has heat curling in your stomach again. Your tongue dips into his open mouth, and he pushes against you with more force that you had anticipated. He curls his tongue around yours, sucking and licking at it, and your body begins to shudder against his. 

Sunwoo drags your hips down against his own, groaning at the feeling of your heat against his growing member. 

“Can’t wait to be inside you,” he hisses when he pulls away, moving his lips down to attach to your throat and sucking harsh marks into your skin. You whine at his statement, grinding against him of your own will once he’d set the rhythm. He feels so good against you, pressing against your clit in just the right way to have you curling against him with broken whines spilling from your lips. Sunwoo moves one of your hands to your hair, jerking your head to the side to expose more of your skin to him, and you know he grows impatient when your shirt gets in the way. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks you, his eyes glittering when he looks up at you.

“Really think I’d say no to you?” You smile, reaching your hands down and pulling your shirt off and tossing it somewhere in the front seat. Sunwoo looks like he’s in heaven when you unclip your bra and throw it back with your shirt, baring your breasts for him.

“Fuck…” he breathes out, cupping one in his hand and brushing his thumb over your nipple. You force yourself to keep your breathing steady, to let him do what he wants. “You’re so pretty, baby. Wanna drown in your pretty tits.” 

“Yeah?” You ask, your voice breathy. “Who’s stopping you, then?” He looks up at you like you’re his goddess, like he’d worship you every day and every night if you’d let him.

“Really?” He hardly waits for a response before he’s shoving his face into your tits, laving at the valley between them before ultimately choosing one to focus on with his mouth. He sucks at the nipple, tugging at it between his teeth and listening to the delicate whines you let out. The other breast doesn’t go unnoticed, one of his hands palming at it and tweaking the nipple for a few minutes before he switches sides to give each of your breasts the same treatment. 

You haven’t stopped grinding on him in this time, your eyelids fluttering shut while your roll your hips over Sunwoo’s. You can feel his dick twitching in his soccer shorts, can feel him fighting the urge to jerk his hips into yours. 

“Sunwoo,” you choke out, tugging at the strands of his hair. It doesn’t stop him, in fact you could swear that the action makes him suck harder on your tits and your voice breaks into a moan. “Sunwoo,” 

This time when you speak, you yank his head back. He whines, his neck now at an awkward angle as he tries to sink back into your chest. 

“Whyyyy,” he drawls with a pout. His lips are puffy and covered in spit, similar to your chest and you already know he’s sucked marks into your skin that’ll be visible for days after this. 

“Wanna fuck you, baby.” You plead. “Wanna fuck you so bad.” 

His eyes roll into the back of his head at your tone, and he pushes you off of him just long enough to shove his clothing off. You do the same, noting the way your panties stick to your slick cunt. With a smirk, you discreetly tuck them into the center console while his back is still somewhat turned to you. 

By the time he’s turned back around, you’ve stripped yourself of all your clothing and sunk your fingers into your core. Your eyes have fluttered shut with two fingers inside of you and your thumb rubbing circles into your clit. 

“What are— what—” Sunwoo sounds like he’s going to cry, and you force your eyes open. He’s staring at your glistening folds with a look of pure hunger and you can only assume heartbreak as you finger yourself. “Why are you—”

“Gotta get myself ready for you,” you tell him with a pout. “Don’t—f-fuck— wanna make sure you fit i-inside of me.” Your back arches off the door and Sunwoo lunges for you, yanking your hand away from your pussy. The suddenness of the action makes you yelp, your eyes fly open again when Sunwoo sinks your fingers into his mouth. You can’t tell if the moan he lets out is genuine or if it’s for show, but it’s guttural and has your walls clenching around absolutely nothing. His tongue laves over your fingers, sucking them as far into his mouth as he can, getting as much of your taste off of your fingers as humanly possible before pulling them from his mouth and lowering your hand back to your side.

“That’s my job,” Sunwoo hisses, and then he’s lowering his body down so he can be level with your pussy. Two of his fingers prod at your entrance, and your hips jerk toward him against your well. He clicks his tongue when he sinks them into you. “Loosened your little cunt up a little bit already, hm? Gotta stretch you out even more though if I wanna fit inside you.” 

You can only whine when he sinks a third finger into you, scissoring them inside of them and curling them into that sweet spot inside of you. The stretch begins to sting, ever so slowly ebbing away and being replaced by pure, unadulterated pleasure. 

“Oh god, Sunwoo.” You gasp out, your hand wrapping around his wrist but you can’t exactly figure out why. To slow him down? To force him to go faster? “Feels so fucking good, please.” You feel a coil beginning to tighten in your stomach as his fingers punch into that spot time and time again, his thumb rubbing harsh circles into your clit similar to how you were. Fast learner.

Sunwoo grins at the way your face twists and contorts with pleasure, the way you try to control how your hips buck against his hand, the guttural moans you emit. 

“Gonna cum, babe?” He knows the answer. He knows by the way you clench against him, the way your cunt tries to force his hand out.

“Yes,” you whine out, “yes, gonna c-cum. Sun-Sunwoo, please.”

“Please what, babe?” He coos. “Can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.” Just to tease you, he slows down. “Do you want me to stop?”

“NO,” you cry out, taking matters into your own hands and fucking down onto his hand. “Ple-please let me cum!”

“Ohhh, I see.” He hums and drives his fingers into you faster, harder. Your whines and whimpers have become broken little sobs. “Fuck, babe, it’s like no one’s ever made you feel like this.” He can’t help but laugh when you clench down on him again. 

“G-Gonna cum, Sunwoo!” He just hums, watching as you clench down once, twice, and then your body is jerking against his hand. Your cunt tries to force him out one more time but he continues to drive into you and work you through your first orgasm of the night. 

When your body has stopped shuddering, Sunwoo finally pulls his fingers out of you. He raises them up a bit, just enough for you to see the way the mix of your arousal and your cum. 

“Look at all this, baby.” He holds his fingers out to you with a broad grin on his face. “Have you ever tasted yourself?” Your eyes come back to focus when he prods his fingers against your lips. You let him sink his fingers into your mouth, nearly gagging when they hit the back of your throat. “Tastes good, doesn’t it?” 

You swallow around his fingers, taking in the bittersweet taste on your tongue. Sunwoo watches you with hazy eyes when you take hold of his wrist again, holding his hand close to you while your tongue swirls around his fingers. You know exactly what he’s thinking, know exactly what’s going on behind those hazy eyes of his, and have to force yourself to pull off of his fingers when you know you’ve cleaned him off completely. 

“Fucking minx,” he growls and grips your hips tightly in his hands, flipping you over so you’re on your hands and knees. “Did that on purpose, didn’t you? Knew I’d think of you sucking my cock, think of you gagging on it as I fuck your pretty little face?” You don’t have a response this time, only moaning when he shoves his cock into you with one harsh thrust. 

He gives you no time to adjust, gives you no time to work through the sting it brings you but you don’t mind. Not when the stretch feels so good. Not when his cock is fucking into at a pace so harsh it has your body sliding across the seats. Your arm reaches out, hand desperately trying to find purchase on something, anything to hold you steady against the roughness of his hips slapping against yours. 

His hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair and yanking on it to pull you against him. Your moans become louder, harsher until they’ve turned into screams and cries of his name. You can feel the fabric of his car’s seats digging into your knees, feel the old Toyota Corolla rocking back and forth while the windows fog up with the heat of your sinful behavior. 

One of Sunwoo’s legs slips down to the floor of the car, but he doesn’t slow as he adjusts his position. It gives him a new angle, new strength to fuck into you harder and faster, bruising your insides as he practically punches into your cervix from the force of his thrusts. 

“How does this feel, hm?” He coos into your ear, his breathing heavy from overexhertion. “Does this feel good? Am I fucking you good, baby?”

“S-so good!” You cry out. “Fuckin’ me s’good, Sunwoo!”

“Yeah?” He bends you over again, this time hunching over your body and humping into you like a dog in heat. Your back arches into him, your body shaking with seemingly neverending pleasure. “Gonan cum f’me?” Sunwoo’s arms are all over you, pinching at your nipples, squeezing your waist, gripping your ass. His lips place firm kisses onto your spinal cord, sucking hickies into your skin that no one but him will see.

“YES!” Your voice breaks and you cum again, squeezing so tightly around his cock that he emits a moan so loud and sharp that you fear you’ve broken him. 

Sunwoo pumps white hot cum into you in thick ropes that spill out while he continues to fuck you, overstimulating you both. The mixture of your cum drips down your legs and onto the fabric seats, and you pray that whoever sits back here after you doesn’t notice the white stain in the middle seat, doesn’t think to ask about this mystery stain and that Sunwoo refuses to give them an answer.

When his hips finally slow, when his dick finally softens inside of you and he slips out, you let your body sag against the seat. Sunwoo grimaces at the sight of you, dark marks littering your skin. He hopes that Soonyoung doesn’t ask questions about the way you limp into your classes the next few days. You hope he knows better by now than to question it. 

“For a sophomore,” you wheeze out while you roll over. Sunwoo runs his hands up and down your thighs, smiling thoughtfully. “You sure seem to have lots of experience.”

“Never judge a book by its cover, babe.” He squeezes just above your knee, running his tongue across his lips when he sees more cum dripping out of you. You catch the fiery look in his eye and groan while you squeeze your legs shut. He groans when you use one foot to kick him back against the door opposite you. 

“No,” you scold him. He looks like a kicked puppy.

“Whyyyy,” he reaches for your legs again and you push him back even more. 

“I’m tired, Sunwoo.” You say but he just crawls on top of you with a mischievous grin.

“You won’t have to do anything,” he bargains. “Jus’ wanna taste you a little. That’s all!” You glare at him.

“One time.” His eyes light up and he pries your legs open again. “You get one more from me tonight, Kim Sunwoo. You hear me?”

“Mhm!” He dives straight into you, knowing that this was far from the last time he’d get you to cum in his car tonight.

“I still think that you should be thanking me,” Eric shuts the door of Sunwoo’s car with a sly grin. 

“For what?” Sunwoo asks exasperatedly. 

It had been less than 24 hours since Sunwoo had fucked you in his car and officially made you his after a long year and a half of pining. He was tired. His body was tired. He didn’t have the energy to deal with his best friend this early in the morning, or at all really. 

“For getting you guys together! It was my idea, anyway.” Eric clicks his seatbelt into place and runs a hand through his dyed red hair. “Where are your car gummy worms?” 

“Center console,” Sunwoo puts the car in drive and has barely begun to ease his foot off the brake when Eric lets a gasp so violent and loud that he slams his foot back down again. “What, what happened?” He slams the car back into park, his face going white when he sees what his best friend is dangling between two dainty fingers. 

Black lace panties. 

Your black lace panties. 

“Sunwoo…you didn’t…” Eric chokes out with a mix of disgust and heartbreak on his face. Sunwoo rips the panties out of his best friend’s hands and shoves them into the pocket of his jeans. His face feels like it’s on fire, his heart pounding out of his chest. 

“Do not ever speak of this to anybody. Ever.”

“You fucking FREAK!”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#blackoutorbackout🍻 #itsbeeble #reese's moots 🩵 #ally~ ⛄️ #fawn~ 🧼 #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop fluff #the boyz #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz fluff #kim sunwoo #kim sunwoo x reader #reese's works 📩 #reese's pieces 🗞️ #kim sunwoo smut #kim sunwoo fluff #sunwoo smut #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fluff

[itsbeeble]

"FRIENDLY" COMPETITION

SUMMARY: The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst

PAIRING: Lee Sangyeon x afab!reader

WC: 7.6k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: the enemies to we fuckin genre makes a return, mentions of alcohol, eric is a cockblock FR, cops are called oops, making out ig, HEAVY marking but it's more biting each other than anything else, mentions of bets, insults (sexual and non sexual), degredation kinda, choking kinda, hairpulling, overstimulation, face fucking, hate sex, begging, Sangyeon is mean in this oops, idk there's like 3.5k words of smut in here, Sangyeon is really possessive, brat!reader x brattamer!sangyeon, unprotected sex, this is actually kinda nasty i'm so sorry yall

A/N: um...anywayyyyy....i didn't expect to write this much for Sangyeon's fic but uhhh yeah. I hope y'all enjoy whatever...this....is

“Killer party,” your painted red lips are curled into a sly smirk, your phone dangling in your hand. Sangyeon’s eyes narrow at you, his arms crossed over his chest while he towers over you. Flashing red and blue lights surround the TBZ house, and most partygoers have scattered and disappeared into the night. He vaguely remembers seeing Sunwoo and his girlfriend taking off in his Toyota Corolla, Haknyeon getting dragged off by some girl he can’t be bothered to remember the name of. 

Of course, it was you who called the cops on him. It’s always you, ever since the two of you started the stupid bet at the beginning of the semester.

“It was,” he agrees, not wanting you to know he’s agitated. “It’ll be good for your sorority, no?”

Juyeon stands across the road from him, near the door of the frat house, chatting with a few officers. The other boys are scattered across the lawn, some watching Sangyeon’s interaction and some talking with each other. 

“Mhm, thanks for bringing us some guests, Sangie.” you chirp, spinning on your heel and beginning to walk to the street to your sleek black car. Your hips sway as you walk, your skirt rising up just a little bit and Sangyeon forces himself to look at the back of your head. He knows you’re doing that on purpose. You always do, ever since you started this rivalry. 

Keyword: you.

You were the one who almost ran him over on his first day of freshman year at IST University, yelling at him to get out of your way, that you were going to be late because he was a stupid frat boy who could never do anything right. Being hot doesn’t get you everywhere in life. It's ironic, isn’t it, considering that was how you’d been getting everything since that day.

You were the one who blew up at him at the very first frat party he’d ever hosted as a sophomore, claiming that he purposefully picked that night to host his frat’s biggest party ever. The same night that you were supposed to host your own party. You claimed he did it on purpose, to get back at you for freshman year.

It was you who’d started the bet in the first place. You who got so fed up with his know-it-all attitude, looking down at you all the time with that damn smirk of his. He thought he was everything— the king of the world. 

“Too bad the cops got called on you,” he calls out. His voice echoes in the area, over the distant whooping of college boys and the sound of police chatter and doors shutting. You whip around, stomping back over to him. The cop cars are beginning to pull away upon seeing a list of guests— all of whom were over 21. Sangyeon had been prepared for this, knew you would try something like this. 

“What did you just say?” You hiss out. Sangyeon can practically see the steam rolling out of your ears and cracks a grin.

“You didn’t hear?” Your eyebrows are knit together, and Sangyeon watches the blue and red lights flicker in your eyes. 

“Hear what, Lee Sangyeon?” you get closer to him, and he can smell the cheap perfume you wear every day. 

“Someone at your party narced as well. I heard it’s being shut down as we speak.” 

“I don’t understand why you two hate each other so much,” Saebyeol picks at the corner of one of her textbook pages, watching you type an angry message to the frat president you claimed to hate so much. For the life of her, Saebyeol couldn’t figure out why you always seemed to be texting him. 

“It’s complicated,” you tell her and she rolls her eyes.

“Clearly.”

Your phone hits the mattress and you turn your scowl to her. She’s smart enough to not look at you, knowing better than to push your buttons too much. 

Everyone knew this. Everyone in your sorority, everyone in the TBZ frat, everyone who you shared classes with. You were the class pet, but you knew exactly how to get what you wanted from anyone and everyone you wanted. Some people called you a raging bitch, some called you a spitfire, and some admired you for not being afraid. 

Lee Sangyeon, though? He did none of those things and you hated him for it. You hated that he didn’t give you the time of day after nearly running him over, claiming that it was no big deal. Even from day one, you already held the firm belief that you were hot shit and you needed everyone to know that. Sangyeon gave you no response to…anything, really. You mocked him in classes, argued with him every chance you got, even called the fucking cops on his party but nothing got his attention. Nothing got you what you wanted. He hardly spared you a glance, always having an alternate solution to any problems you created for him. He would just send you that seductive smirk of his and—

Wait, no. 

Not seductive. 

Annoying. Yes. That annoyingly sexy stupid smirk of his. 

“Y/N.” Saebyeol snaps her fingers in front of your face and huffs at the dazed look in your eyes. “Thinking about your mortal enemy again?”

“Why would I be thinking of him?” You knit your eyebrows together and Saebyeol stares blankly for a moment.

“You’re— you’re kidding, right?” Saebyeol slides her textbook off her lap and scoots toward you on your bed. “Like, this is a joke?”

“Why would I be joking about this?” You fold your arms over your chest and your sorority sister huffs. 

“Y/N, my sweet sweet Y/N, you have done nothing but talk about Lee Sangyeon since day one of our college career,” Saebyeol says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s always Sangyeon this, Sangyeon that, Sangyeon did blah blah blah today and ugh I wanna slap that stupid smirk off his face.” She raises the pitch in her voice, openly mocking you and you can feel your cheeks beginning to heat up with embarrassment and frustration. 

“I do not sound like that. And I don’t always talk about him!”

“If you hadn’t told me so often that you hate his guts, I would think you want him to fuck you sideways into next Wednesday. In fact,” Saebyeol grins at you, “I think you really do want him to fuck you like that.” 

Now your cheeks are on fire, blazing red so bright that she can see it even behind the curtain of your hair. 

“I do not!” You practically shriek, but your sorority sister continues. 

“I’ve heard that he’s really good, just like all the other TBZ boys,” she sighs dramatically as if swooning over him. “Really big, too.” 

Your breath catches in your throat, and your mind is suddenly stuck on the image of him drilling into you for hours and hours. Until the sun comes up until you can’t feel your legs and you’re dripping a mix of his and your cum. 

“I don’t need to hear this right now,” you wave Saebyeol away. She purses her lips. “Get out, scram.”

“Alright,” she concedes, raising her hands in defense. “Don’t come crying to me when we have to attend his party and you guys end up fucking all night.” 

Your head snaps up.

“What do you mean we have to attend his party?” A wicked grin appears on Saebyeol’s face.

“Didn’t you hear? We lost the bet.”

Sangyeon doesn’t expect to hear your shriek of his name and to see you barreling down the hall at 8AM on a Monday, steam once again pouring out of your ears. He doesn’t expect you to grab him by the collar of his shirt and half-drag-half-walk him into the nearest empty classroom and slam the door shut, shoving him against the wall immediately after. He won’t deny that he finds this side of you attractive, especially when you press up against him. 

“How did you do it,” you practically spit out. He arches one of his perfect eyebrows, a playful grin on his lips. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, princess.” A lie. Of course, Sangyeon knows what you’re talking about. It’s all his brothers had been raving about since the party that got shut down. 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Your eyes are narrowed, but Sangyeon swears he sees another emotion in them. No, he tells himself, it couldn’t be. You would never. 

“Why not? Isn’t that what you are?” He sees it. The most subtle weight shift, the tiniest press of your thighs together. The shaky breath that you try to keep steady, but he knows you. Four years of debates, competitions, and arguments and he had never once seen your breathing unsteady. Wavered from lack of air, sure. He’d seen that one plenty of times. 

Unsteady, however? That was a whole different ball game that he could use to his advantage. 

Had you asked any of the Tau Beta Zeta boys or any student at IST Uni, they would tell you that this competition, this rivalry that you so vehemently claimed existed was entirely one-sided. Anyone could tell you that Sangyeon was just entertaining you, using it as a way to stay close to you in hopes that one day you would cave for him. 

Not for him to win. No, he couldn’t care less about winning (you’d never guess it from his winning streak). He cares about you. He’d wanted you desperately since day one, but he knew you hated everything about him. 

Or, at least, so you told everyone around you.

“I’m not,” you try to sound angry, to keep your voice rough, but every word that spills out of your mouth comes out in a whine that takes Sangyeon’s breath away. “Don’t call me that!”

“Are you sure?” He takes a step forward, and you’re forced to back up until he has you pressed against one of the rows of tables. “You don’t really seem to be putting up too much of a fight about that do you, princess?”

Your breathing hitches and Sangyeon cages you in with an arm on either side of the table behind you. His eyes bore into yours, and you catch the brief swipe of his tongue across his lip. Your eyes flick down, and then back up, and then Sangyeon’s lips are on yours. 

They’re softer than you thought they’d be (not that you’d thought about it). They’re soft, but he presses them against you with such fervor that you feel like the shape of them would be scorched into your skin. You try to keep pace with him, but his hand is in your hair, yanking on the strands to tilt your head back and you find yourself lost in a daze of pleasure. Sangyeon pulls back for just a few moments when your body shudders against his, a whimper forcing its way out of you. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He yanks on the strands again, your jaw dropping open and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “You dirty bitch.” His lips attach to the skin of your cheek, your jaw, your neck. You lift yourself onto the table, your hands all over him. You put them under his shirt, scraping at his back as he sucks dark marks into your skin that you know will take too much product to cover up. Your nails scrape at his back, digging into the muscles that you know good and well he’d worked hard for. The image of him in the gym, sweat dripping from his shirtless body presses to the front of your mind and you find yourself pushing the fabric up his torso.

Sangyeon doesn’t let you get a good look at his body, however. His hands come down on you, forcing you to lay back on the table. He drags you toward him, your hips sliding against his while he hovers over you. 

“So quiet now,” he hums. “What happened to that mouthy little princess from earlier?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, and to your complete surprise, he listens.

In your lust-filled daze, you reach your body up, connecting your spit-slicked lips once more. Sangyeon groans quietly, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you tight to him. Your back is arched, your neck pressed into an awkward angle but you don’t seem to care. Not when he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth with so much desperation you would think this was his last day to live. 

He raises you back up into a sitting position but finds that that isn’t quite enough for him and slides his hands under your butt to haul you off the table, walking twenty feet to press you against the wall instead. 

Your lips detach from his, slipping down to his neck to lick and suck and bite at the skin there. You aren’t gentle with each other, not now. Four years of pent-up…anger? Frustration? Hate? Sangyeon isn’t quite sure what to call it, and frankly neither are you, but it fuels the kisses you’re giving each other. It fuels him every time he changes your position. It fuels to grinding of his hips into yours and forcing little whines out of you. Your core pulses every time his bulge slides against you, and you swear you would let him kiss you like this for hours—

The door slams shut, and Sangyeon practically drops you to the ground. A boy is standing there, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging open as he stares at you and Sangyeon.

“Um,” the boy starts to speak but Sangyeon cuts him off, his eyes still boring into yours.

“Get the hell out, Eric.” The boy— Eric nods dumbly, starting for the door but you stop him. You’re suddenly all too aware of the position you were just in, of what exactly you just did and a numb feeling fills your stomach.

“It’s fine,” your voice is hoarse and Sangyeon turns his eyes back to you. They’re screaming at you, those eyes of his. Screaming at you to stay, to talk. “I’ve gotta go anyway.”

“Y/N—” Sangyeon starts but you cut him off. 

“Don’t.” Your voice shakes and so does your hand as you push him away from you. His face contorts for a moment, but you turn your back on him before anything else can be said. “Just…just stay away from me, Lee Sangyeon.”

You wish the bet had never happened. You wish that Lee Sangyeon didn’t make an appearance in your life. 

You wish that he would stop staring at you as you help decorate his frat house. Which, by the way, isn’t as gross as you had imagined it to be. That’s not the point, though.

The point is that you’ve felt his eyes on you the entire time you’ve been there. You felt his eyes on you whenever you stopped to talk with one of the boys in the house, ask where something should go or what alcohol they want. 

“Sangyeon can’t take his eyes off you,” Hyunjae comments as you pass by with one of the last boxes. You freeze where you stand, your cheeks immediately beginning to flush a deep shade of scarlet. “Any idea why, Miss President?”

“No idea.” You tell him, but the nerves seep into your every word and you can’t help but wonder if you’d covered the marks on your neck well enough. You wondered if the scratches you’d dug into Sangyeon’s skin had been revealed to his brothers or if Eric had snitched. You doubt that he had, though, based on the glares that Sangyeon shoots toward him and the way he ducks his head and scurries off to do something far away from the two of you.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Hyunjae sing-songs and you roll your eyes. “You wanna know what I think?”

“Not really.”

“I think that you finally let loose a little bit and things got a little…frisky.” Hyunjae taps the side of his neck and your breathing hitches. So you didn’t cover them entirely. Shit.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t ask what you thought, then, right?” He grins at your statement and steps to the side so you can shove past him. 

“Hit it right on the nose, didn’t I?” He trails after you with his hands shoved into his pockets.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lee Hyunjae.” You tell him over your shoulder. “And stop following me around.”

“Why would I do that?” he counters. “It’s getting on Sangyeon’s nerves. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

Isn’t it? Honestly, you weren’t so sure anymore. You could still feel his lips on yours, feel the way he burned the imprint of his lips into the column of your throat, feel the size of him as he ground his hips into you. 

“Usually, yes.” You smile, but it might be more of a grimace at this point. “I tend to get on his nerves.” 

Saebyeol eyes you from ten feet away, watching the way Hyunjae practically corners you in this conversation. You can see the curiosity burning in her gaze, but then your eyes turn to Sangyeon, and a swirl of heat pools in your gut. He looks pissed, but you can’t figure out why. What could he possibly be pissed about?

“I have a few ways we can piss him off,” Hyunjae leans toward you, and suddenly he’s being yanked back with a yelp. “What— dude what the fuck?” 

Sangyeon just scoffs. 

“Stay away from her, Hyunjae.” He says with a little sneer. The heat in your stomach is replaced with an uneasy churning. 

“I was just talking to her!” The younger man protests, but you can see the glint in his eyes. He’s enjoying every second of this confrontation. “Right, Y/N?”

“Didn’t particularly look like she was enjoying your conversation,” Sangyeon shrugs. 

“And you’d know that really well, wouldn’t you?”

You aren’t sure why you chose that moment to step in, but the way Sangyeon flinches at your statement makes you want to backtrack. For the first time in your life, you’re beginning to regret some of the things you’ve said to Sangyeon. 

For the first time in your life, when Sangyeon starts to walk away from you, you want to run after him. To apologize. To grovel at his feet and beg for forgiveness. 

You don’t. Instead, like always, you watch him walk away from you with a distraught look on your face. 

“I can’t believe you’re willingly going to talk to him,” Saebyeol practically yells into your ear over the loud music. The party is loud. So loud, and packed with more people than you’d ever seen at KAT or TBZ parties. It very nearly deafens you, but tonight you’re on a mission. 

“What can I say,” you shrug. “It bothers me when he’s the one walking away ticked off. Plus, I need to have the last word without the emotional guilt” 

Sabyeol laughs loudly before tipping her cup back to empty the contents into her mouth. You’d wager that the contents are terrible considering that the “bartenders” of the night are Chanmi and Hayoung from your sorority. Those two are notorious for never being allowed on bartending duty at your parties after the Hennessy Incident of 2021. You’d been more than happy to let them bartend for this party, however, knowing that they’d make everyone so fucked up that it would be easy for you to convince them they never saw you and Sangyeon together. 

“You sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the way you came back to the house the other day looking like someone tried to eat you?” Saebyeol smirks and you scoff. 

“So everyone knows, then?”

“That you and Sangyeon made out in an empty classroom?” You nod. “Yeah. Eric told everybody.”

“Fantastic.” For a moment, you see sympathy on your sorority sister’s face. 

“Y/N, I promise you that wanting him is not as bad as you think. If it makes you feel better, one look at you and he’ll be crawling on the ground begging for just a taste.”

“It’s not even that, though!” You say and grimace at the last part of her statement, but she’s not listening. She’s focused on something behind you, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. “What? What are you staring at?” 

“I— turn—” she cuts herself off, grabbing you and whipping you around. She uses her other hand to grab your chin and point you exactly where she wants you to look and your stomach drops. 

“Holy shit.” 

Lee Sangyeon, in all his glory, is walking toward you with a determined look. And you…you feel that arousal from a few days ago coming back when you see him. It’s not as if he’s dressed in an overwhelmingly attractive way. A white baseball cap that shields his eyes, a black tank top with an unzipped leopard-print jacket over it, and some dark jeans paired with those old Converse of his. A chain that you’d never seen before (not that you’d been paying attention, that is) glittered under the lights that you had set up earlier that day. 

When he finally stops in front of you, every word that you’d planned on saying to him is swept out of your brain. 

“Y/N.” He says, and you half expect him to whip out that stupid smirk. Saebyeol pats you on the shoulder and slips away from you, pushing her way through the party to find someone to talk to. 

“Sangyeon,” you keep your voice curt and do your damn best to keep your gaze anywhere except on his eyes. 

“I think it’s time we had a little chat, don’t you?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“Do you now?” 

“Mhm.”

“And what would we possibly have to talk about?” You ask, already knowing the answer he’s going to give you. He laughs airily, taking a brief glance around the room before he reaches for you. You do your best to not flinch or react in any way when he pushes a strand of hair back over your shoulder. 

Unfortunately, you can’t stop the whine that bubbles out of you when he tightens his hand in your hair and yanks your face toward his. You mentally curse yourself for being into something like this, knowing that he’ll never let you hear the end of it if this goes too far. 

Sangyeon lowers his lips to your ear, speaking at a level that only you can hear over the noise surrounding you. 

“You know exactly what we need to talk about, pretty girl.”

“Always got so much to say,” Sangyeon slams your body against the wall of what you assume is his bedroom as soon as the lock clicks into place. Your breathing is already wavered, your hands shaking as you clutch at his shirt, laving over the skin of his neck with your tongue and biting harshly to the point that you nearly draw blood. “Always have to get the last word until I get my hands on you, don’t you baby?” 

“Just shut the fuck up already,” You snap and Sangyeon scoffs. His hand slides around your body and he grabs a handful of your ass, pulling your hips against his while he lets you leave your marks. While he lets you have your fun. He has you exactly where he wants you, and both of you know it. 

“What about a safe word?” You glare up at him when he continues to press you with questions and quickly spit one out so you can go back to biting marking him.

He doesn’t know if you notice that he hasn’t kissed you yet, that he’s just been standing above you, rolling his hips into yours, and letting you practically eat his neck. He does know that you’re fumbling. You’re losing yourself, suddenly all too desperate to have him that your body is shaking. Sangyeon loves it.

“What would your sorority sisters say if they saw you like this, hm?” Sangyeon drags a hand up your spine and grabs your hair again, this time just tight enough to get your attention. You pull away from him, your lipstick smeared across your lips and cheek, and your eyes narrow into a dangerous glare. 

“It’s a good thing they aren’t here, then, isn’t it?” You shoot right back, pulling him down by the neck to crush your lips against his. The way you two are kissing is entirely different. He kisses you with an agitating slowness, smiling against your lips. You are kissing him like you’d been in the desert for a week and he was the first glass of water you’d seen since your escape. Your force your tongue into his mouth, licking and sucking at his own. It pisses you off how disinterested he seems to be when he was the one who wanted you to come up here with him. Was Sangyeon mocking you?

Anger swirls in your stomach and you shove Sangyeon back to the edge of his bed. He stares up at you with nothing but pure amusement while you strip him. He does absolutely nothing to help you. Not yet. He’s biding his time and you don’t even know it yet. 

Or, maybe, you do. Maybe you know exactly what’s going on in his mind as you begin to strip yourself of your own clothes, trying to gauge his reactions but he does nothing but stare at you with belittling amusement.

Sangyeon lets you push him down on his bed, leaning back on his elbows, and watches as you crawl over him with your cunt hovering barely a centimeter over his hardened member. That is the only acknowledgment you get that tells you he wants this just as much as you do. He feels the heat radiate off of it, and can feel your arousal beginning to slip down and create a puddle between the two of you. 

Not yet, he tells himself. But it’s getting harder and harder with every one of your movements.

You kiss your way down his body. Well, more like bite. 

“You really like biting me,” he comments, his voice mildly unsteady. “It’s kinda hot.”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” You retort, letting your lips kiss the trail of hair leading to his pelvis. Sangyeon watches you lower your body to the floor, your small hands wrapping around his member and giving it a sharp tug. His throat closes as he fights back a groan. 

“You— fuck me,” His eyes roll into the back of his head and he trails off with a load groan when you suddenly wrap your lips around him. “Fuck, couldn’t you warn me?” 

You hum, the vibrations sending sparks down his cock and he sucks in a sharp breath. He can only watch as you begin to take him deeper and deeper, and he can feel his tip hit the back of your throat, can hear you starting to gag on him, but you don’t stop until you physically cannot breathe anymore. Until your nose is almost pressed against his pelvis. You stay there for a moment, your hand on his bare hip and digging your nails in to focus on something other than the fact that you are quite literally about to choke on his cock.

Then you swallow around him and Sangyeon’s body twitches. You pull your mouth off him and lick gently at his tip before you take him all the way down, as far as you can, and do it again. Sangyeon caves.

Now.

You practically fall backward at the rate Sangyeon moves. He slips out of your mouth, a string of spit loosely connecting you to his tip. He kicks you backward, his foot connecting with the back of your thigh and shoving you as far he can until he’s able to comfortably stand over you and you’re the one leaning on your elbows for support. 

“What the fuck was that?” You snap, trying to push yourself up but Sangyeon just kneels over you, shoving you down with one hand only to grab the back of your head with the other and hold you in place. “Lee Sangyeon, let me fucking go—”

“Too late for that, princess.” He coos, and he brushes his thumb of the hand in your hair across your cheekbone. “Open that pretty little mouth for me, will you?” You almost don’t listen to him, but a part of you knows that if you don’t, he won’t hesitate to tie you up and leave you here for anyone to find. 

Your mouth slowly drops open and for a moment, you think he’ll be gentle with you. For a brief, naive moment you believe that he won’t be rough. 

Those thoughts are gone when he suddenly thrusts into your waiting mouth, forcing you to take all of him. You immediately start gagging at the force of his thrusts, your hands clawing at his waist and scrambling for something to hold. He seems to have no problem, however, holding you in place with one hand. It’s so messy, an overwhelming amount of spit that forms in your mouth being the only lubricant he needs to punch into your throat. 

“Look at you,” He hisses out with half-lidded eyes. “Slobbering all over my big dick like the good little bitch that you are.” You try to whine, try to make some sort of noise but you’re having a hard enough time breathing with his erratic thrusting. Your jaw aches, straining against his girth and tears are gushing down your cheeks. Your lungs are burning, but you have no way of telling him to stop. “Fuck, feels so good around me baby.” 

Your thighs are rubbing together, and you manage to find it in you to slip a hand down to play with your clit, rubbing harsh circles into the little nub. Sangyeon sees this, and he lets out a breathless laugh. 

“Fucking slut,” he sneers, fucking your face harsher than he was before. He can feel himself getting closer every time you gag around him, every time you try to take a breath and choke on it. “Can’t even sit still while I’m fucking your face, huh? Have to be a little slut and touch yourself too?” 

You’re able to whine out this time, and the vibration makes him slow down enough for you to start sucking at him like a lollypop. You can’t move your head at all, not with the grip he has on your hair, but you’re able to give long, hard sucks and you’re able to swallow around him enough to draw loud moans out. Your body quivers under all of the sensations you’re feeling. The tears running down your cheeks, the massive dick that’s bruising the back of your throat, the spit running down your chin and dripping down to your chest, the feeling of your slender fingers pushing into your sopping wet cunt over and over again. 

It’s getting to be all too much for you, and thankfully it seems to be too much for Sangyeon too. 

Like he knew you were about to reach your peak (and he probably did with the way you were moaning like a mad woman around him), he rips his cock out of your mouth and lunges for your hand to pull it away. 

“Not a fucking chance,” he grinds out, his heavy eyes trained on the way you practically sob and beg for your release. 

“Was s’close,” you reach a hand up, brushing the back of his neck. He scoffs at your words. “Please, Sangie, please. Jus’ wanna cum! Jus’ wanna be ready for you!” His dick twitches, still hard and leaking precum from the release he’d forced himself to hold back from. 

“Such a thoughtful little bitch,” he coos and lets your hair slip from his fingertips. You whine, pawing at his leg as some sort of way to get him to be kind to you, just this once. “I’ll make you feel good, baby. Don’t worry, I promise.” Another sob from your mouth as Sangyeon slips three thick fingers into you without any warning, without prepping you at all for any of them. 

You moan in protest as he starts to thrust them in and out of you, but your back arches into him when he curls them and brushes ever so slightly against a spot inside of you that you didn’t even know was there. Your eyes have rolled into the back of your head, more drool spilling out the side of your mouth. 

Your orgasm catches back up to you quickly and your body shakes against Sangyeon, a wild moan escaping your bruised throat. He watches you with careful eyes and his tongue poking out of the corner of his lips. He works you through that first orgasm quickly, and you expect him to pull his fingers out and replace them with his dick.

He doesn’t. 

In fact, as the overstimulation starts to hit you and you try to push him away from you, he just smiles coyly. 

“Thought you wanted to cum, princess?” He pouts mockingly and you whine in protest. The sounds coming from your pussy are disgustingly wet, your arousal and cum spilling out of you in neverending waves. “Why are you asking me to stop? Don’t you wanna cum?”

“‘M sensitive,” you whine into his shoulder and he clicks his tongue. 

“Poor baby,” he runs his hand down your spine, pulling you up to sit in his lap while he pulls his fingers out of you. Your body sags in relief, but that doesn’t last long before he’s flipping you over to lay face down on the floor. 

“Need me to slow down?” His hand is on the back of your neck, forcing the upper half of your body to lay on the hardwood floor. It’s uncomfortable, but you don’t complain. Not to him. “Need me to stop for a minute? Give you time to rest?”

“Yes— I mean— Fuck, I meant no,” you gasp out and Sangyeon scoffs.

“It sounds to me like you’re confused, baby. So which is it? Do you need to stop or do you want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow? Until you’re lying on the floor dripping with my cum and just waiting for me to fuck one more load into this little pussy?” 

When you just whine and push your hips back into him, he knows he’s won. Knows he’s fucked the brat out of you and he hasn’t even stuck his dick in you yet. 

“Can’t believe you made me wait four years for this, princess,” Sangyeon presses his hand down on the center of your spine, forcing you to arch your back even more as he slides into you. 

“Fuck,” you hiss out with your words slightly slurred from being pressed into the ground, curling your fingers into your palm and digging your nails in. Your walls are fluttering around Sangyeon, contracting and expanding in weak attempts to open up and take all of him. “Why the fuck are you so big?” 

Sangyeon spits out a laugh, falling still with just over three-quarters of him inside of you. He has to take that breath, has to let himself slow down. If he doesn’t, he might cum without even being able to fuck you properly, and he can’t have that. 

“That might be the first compliment you’ve ever given me, princess.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that,” your voice breaks at the end when he shoves the rest of his length into you. “I fucking hate you, Lee Sangyeon.” 

“No you don’t,” he grins maliciously down at you, knowing that you won’t be able to see it. “You love me.”

At the moment, you can’t argue that. Not when he draws his hips back and slams them back in. You yelp when your body slides forward on his hardwood floor, trying to find purchase on something, anything around you, but Sangyeon doesn’t give you the chance. He sets the pace fast and hard, his grip on your waist being the only thing to keep you from falling completely to the ground. 

You don’t realize how warm your body has gotten until his grip starts slipping due to your combined sweat. Until his body is suddenly hunched over yours, his sweaty chest sliding against your back every time he ruts into you like a dog. He’s panting into your ear, letting out little grunts and groans every time you squeeze around him. You’re no better. In fact, you may be worse with the way you practically scream his name, little wails forced out of you every time he sheathes his length into you. 

“What a sight,” Sangyeon grunts out, pulling himself off you just enough to see your body in full again. His hair is damp, hanging over his face in sweaty strands. “The IST University Spitfire crumbling into pieces for the one person she swore never to touch. Isn’t that something?”

“Sh— shut—” you grind your teeth together, struggling to barely get a word out between every moan and whine and sob you emit. “Your— your fu—fucking mouth.”

“See, I would,” Sangyeon says and you feel him twitch inside of you. “But it’s just so much fun to see you like this.” 

Part of you wants to curse him. Part of you wants to shove him off you and give him a piece of your mind before leaving him to jack off like a high schooler. Unfortunately, the larger part of you that just wants him harder, faster deeper, more more more wins. 

He goes quiet after that, though, and the two of you are left in silence. The “silence”, in this case, being the sound of the party raging downstairs, the sensation of your knees scraping the ground and likely forming bruises, the gasping breaths that you take, the wet sound of his hips against yours, and the scandalous noises that you couldn’t be bothered to restrain. You couldn’t care less if you’re fueling his ego right now. Couldn’t care less that he’ll likely never let you live this down. You only care about the orgasm that’s slowly climbing and climbing and climbing. You know Sangyeon is close too. The build from him fucking your throat for god knows how long and then abruptly tearing his orgasm away from himself, the tightness of your walls around him. He has to be close to cumming. You know he is. 

Sangyeon nearly falters when you grab his free hand, your fingers shaking as they wrap around it and drag him toward your clit. He laughs in mocking disbelief.

“You want me to help you?” He asks and, in your naivety, you expect him to bend at your every whim just like everyone else. As if you’d forgotten the past four years in your fucked out state. 

“Please,” you drag out the e sounds, and Sangyeon clicks his tongue. 

“If you want me to help you, you’re gonna have to put in more effort than that, princess.” He snaps his hips into you, enjoying the way you cry out and scramble to stabilize your body again. “I’ve already made you cum once, and I’m about to do it again. If you want me to help you more than I am, you’re gonna have to beg for it.” 

You gnaw on your lower lip, fighting back more tears. As if that would do anything, anyway. Your makeup was already ruined— dark streaks of mascara dried into your cheeks, smeared lipstick on your chin, smudged eyeliner. Anyone who took one look at you would know exactly what happened. Didn’t matter if they were drunk or not. They’d know who did this to you.

“Please, Sangyeon,” you moan pitifully but you know that won’t be enough. “I’ll be so good, I promise. Please please please lemme cum, Sangyeon please.”

“You’ll be good?” He echoes you and laughs. “Little princess, you’ve been nothing but a little brat since the day we met. What makes you think I’m gonna believe you?” 

A hiccuped sob escapes you. “‘M sorry Sangie, I’m sorry! I pro—promise I’ll be good from now o—on. I’ll b—be good for you!”

“You will?” He asks, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see him smirking down at you. “You’ll be good for me?”

“Just for you! Just for you, Sangie! Please, please, please lemme cum! I promise I’ll be good!” 

“Okay, princess,” he says and swats your hand away from his. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

The wail you let out when he picks up his pace again is desperate and carnal. His thumb rubs harshly at your clit, and the stimulation is just enough for you to be thrown over the edge again, your walls squeezing around his member so tightly he’s forced to slow down with a long, drawn-out groan. His body shudders above yours as you continue to pulse around him, forcing him closer and closer to his orgasm.

“D-don’t cum inside,” you manage to hiss out through the overwhelming pleasure. Sangyeon scoffs. 

“As if I’d wanna risk anything with you.” 

Sangyeon squeezes his eyes shut as he forces himself to pull away from you, already missing the warmth of your pussy when the air (cold in comparison) hits him. He wastes no time in wrapping his hand around his length, furiously pumping up and down as he draws closer and closer. You try to sit up, to turn around and watch, but Sangyeon forces you back down with a hand on the back of your neck (which you’re starting to think he has a thing for). 

You don’t put up a fight against him, knowing you don’t stand a damn chance with how exhausted you are. Instead, you opt to crane your neck as best you can, watching in awe (which you would never admit, amongst a handful of other things) as he tilts his head back and lets his jaw hang open, tongue prodding at the side of his mouth. You can only watch as warm ropes of white cum spurt from his tip, coating your ass and lower back. Part of you wants to reach back and swipe some of it, just for a little taste. 

When Sangyeon finally lets you up, you turn toward him with heavy eyes. For a moment, the two of you kneel there in front of each other, sweaty, covered in each other’s cum, and in some sort of daze. You watch his abs tense with every exhale, watch him brush a few strands of hair out of his face. Then you stand up, taking a few steps toward him on shaky legs, and tilt his head up to look at you in the eye. 

“Didn’t I tell you to stop talking?” Your hoarse voice comes out in a purr that’s steadier than either of you thought it would, and Sangyeon grins wildly at you.

“You really think you’re gonna have any control over me?” He slaps your hand away from his face, getting to his feet faster than you’d expected him to, and grabs you, his hands squeezing your cheeks. “You’re my bitch now, princess. No changing that. You said it yourself, didn’t you?”

“I said a lot of things, Lee Sangyeon.” You sneer, but it comes out muffled and Sangyeon rolls his eyes.

“Guess I didn’t fuck you hard enough if you’re still talking back, hm?” Your stomach drops, heat rolling in your stomach again. Sangyeon pushes you back toward the bed and that malicious grin returns. You’re starting to miss that smirk he always had on. 

“It’s fine. We have all night, anyway.”

By the time Sangyeon’s had enough of you, by the time both of you are entirely worn out and satiated for the time being, the party downstairs has died down and you’re covered in bruises, aching all over. You didn’t bother to move when he brought a washcloth over and began to wipe you clean, removing any traces of his or your release. 

“Never thought you’d actually cave in.” He tells you when he finally lays down. You don’t look at him, choosing to lie face down with your face stuffed into the pillows. 

“I didn’t cave in,” you say, but even you know that’s a lie. “Maybe I just needed a good fuck before finals.”

“So you admit that I was a good fuck?” Sangyeon teases, sliding closer to you and ignoring the way you groan and try to kick him back. 

“Shut up already. I need to rest.” 

A fist hits the wall behind your head and you gasp loudly, sitting straight up when you hear Eric yelling from the room next door. 

“Is this some sort of revenge? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME? WHY NOT HYUNJAE? WHY NOT SUNWOO? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?”

Your eyes narrow at Sangyeon who just lays there laughing, one hand thrown over his eyes.

“You knew he went to sleep while we were fucking?”

“Of course I did,” he says through his laughter. Your lips try to twitch up but you force them back down. 

“You’re such an asshole.” You lay back down and let him drag you over to rest on his chest. 

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Keep thinking that, pretty girl. I’ll convince you one of these days.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#itsbeeble #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut #blackoutorbackout🍻 #reese's moots 🩵 #ally~ ⛄️ #fawn~ 🧼 #the boyz imagines #the boyz smut #the boyz fluff #the boyz x reader #lee sangyeon #lee sangyeon x reader #lee sangyeon smut #lee sangyeon imagines #lee sangyeon fluff #the boyz sangyeon #sangyeon x reader #sangyeon imagines #sangyeon smut #sangyeon fluff #reese's pieces 🗞️ #tbz sangyeon #tbz imagines #tbz fluff #tbz smut #tbz x reader #tbz sangyeon x reader #reese's works 📩

[itsbeeble]

BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU'RE INVITED!

PAIRINGS: tbz x f!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, minimal angst, crack

WARNINGS: smut, minor angst, fluff, mentions of injuries, alcohol, swearing, more warnings to be added to the individual fics 18+ MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

SUMMARY: Have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? If so, then these fics are just for you! Join us as we take a glimpse into the Tau Beta Zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE: The way me and Fawn have been planning this for so long omgggg. Me and Fawn are so excited to announce this collab in celebration of my 1 year on tumblr, 6 year anniversary of The Boyz, AND as just a fun little event!! I hope you guys are as excited for this as I am hehe. And please feel free to send an ask or comment on this post if you'd like to be tagged in each part!!

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of schoolwork for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

"FRIENDLY" COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O'CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 | PT. 2)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

© juyeonszn & itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#itsbeeble #reese's pieces 🗞️ #reese's works 📩 #reese's moots #fawn~ 🧼 #blackoutorbackout🍻 #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #the boyz #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #sangyeon #sangyeon x reader #sangyeon imagines #sangyeon smut #younghoon #younghoon x reader #younghoon smut #younghoon imagines #jacob bae imagines #jacob bae x reader #jacob bae smut #hyunjae #hyunjae x reader #hyunjae smut #hyunjae imagines #juyeon #juyeon smut

[itsbeeble]

She's Kinda Hot

Summary: Sometimes Mingi hates you, but it's a bit of a perk that you're kinda hot

Genre: smut

Pairing: Song Mingi x afab!reader

Fic Warnings: Smut, porn with literally no plot

WC: 1917

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

SMUT WARNINGS BELLOW THE CUT

Warnings: pervy loser mingi, bratty reader, face/throat fucking, mingi gets a little bit too into it, forced cum swallowing oopsies, degradation kinda, kinda dom-sub themes, dubcon kinda?

Heavily based on She's Kinda Hot by 5SOS (im back on my 5sos shit what can i say)

A/N: isn't it so crazy how every time i wanna go on hiatus, somehow inspiration strikes. EVERY TIME. Anyway thank you all for being patient ilysm. Also this was meant to be longer but i cut it short so if you want a part 2 lmk

A/N pt 2: Thank you to @juyeonszn and @leejihoonownsmyheart for beta-ing this absolute monstrosity ily both

~

Mingi thinks that he hates you. 

Not, like, hates you, but sometimes he can’t stand your bitching. Sometimes he can’t stand the way you yell at him for talking too loud when he’s gaming and you’re trying to sleep, and then scream on the phone with your friends during your weekly video call (which you spend half the time complaining about him). He hates that you constantly scream at him about not cleaning up his messes, for leaving the toilet seat up, for not reminding you that you had a meeting, for reminding you that you had to get to a meeting.

What Mingi loves about you? Well…that’s a whole other story.

Mingi loves how, despite how irritating he may be, you always support him. He loves the way you play with his hair, watching over his shoulder while he games. The way you chime in with little comments, your grip on his dark locks tightening whenever he gets close to dying. 

He also loves how pink your cheeks get when you run out of air from yelling at him. He loves how your eyebrows crease, how your lower lip juts out when you pout. He loves how your voice pitches up into a whine that has him nearly drooling, with nasty thoughts entering his mind. He loves how easy it is to rile you up, how embarrassed you get when he cups that sweet cunt of yours while you’re trying to scold him. How you crumble over the lightest touch from him.

That, and you’re also kinda hot. He loves your tits, how they bounce with every step, and how you allow him to shove his face under your shirt and between them when the two of you go to sleep. He loves how meaty your thighs are, how he *drowns* in them every time he eats you out. Loves how your tummy is so soft, the perfect pillow for him. You’re perfect to Mingi.

Currently, however unfortunate it may be, he’s doing none of those things. He’s sitting in front of the TV in your shared apartment with his headset snug on his, in your opinion, disgustingly greasy head and a gaming controller dangling loosely in his hands while you yell at him. It’s hard, however, for him to focus with your tits bouncing every time you throw your hands dramatically into the air. It’s hard when every time you raise your voice, your lips twitching into that adorable little pout of yours, his dick twitches in his pants and he knows you can see it. Every time he blinks, it’s like you shift closer and closer to him until you’re standing right between his legs.

“Are you even fucking listening to me?” Your voice is shrill and Mingi just hums in response, eyes locked on the valley of your breasts as you lean toward him. 

“Absolutely, babe,” he sniffs and leans back on the couch, spreading his legs and placing his arms on the back of the couch. You scoff, leaning back and running a hand through your hair. Mingi’s tongue runs over his lip, his eyebrows knotting together. 

“You fucking liar,” you sneer. “All you’re fucking doing is staring at my tits, isn’t that right, babe?” 

Boom, caught red-handed

A smirk grows on Mingi’s lips. 

“So what if I was?” One of his legs hooks around the back of yours, yanking you down. A gasp leaves you, your hands flying out and finding purchase on his shoulders. He can see your skirt lift just enough for him to get a glimpse of your lacy panties, and, to Mingi’s pleasure, your tits end up right in his face. Soft, plump, and just waiting for him to get his mouth on them. His hands slide up your waist, itching to latch onto the soft mounds on your chest. You slap his hands away, and he hisses at the sting of your nails digging into his wrists.

“You’re a fuckin pervert, you know that?” Your fingertips dig into the fabric of his sweatshirt, and he scoffs and raises his head from staring down your shirt.

“Says the one grinding on my dick right now. Thought you were mad at me, princess.” He’s right, you know he is. You can’t help it, not when he feels so good against you. Not when you’ve been so stressed with work. Mingi leans toward you, stopping a mere inch from your lips. Your eyes are shut, and he almost groans when your hips stop moving as well. “Or did you just want some attention from me? Hm?” 

You whine, and Mingi coos. 

“Mingi,” your voice is airy and he hums, lowering his head back down to lick at the skin your shirt reveals to him. Your hands curl into the strands of hair at the base of his neck, scratching gently. “Mingi please.” His hands slide up again, tugging your shirt down as much as he can, exposing your chest to the warm air of the apartment. 

“Please what, princess?” Your breathing is shaky, your arm holding your boyfriend to your chest as he sucks dark marks into your skin. 

“Please fuck me.”

~

If anyone were to ask you how you ended up sitting on Mingi’s face with his tongue shoving its way inside of you, you would tell them you truly had no idea, but you weren’t going to complain. 

Your hips roll harshly over him, pathetic whines and moans escaping your lips every time your boyfriend sucks at your clit. He’s drowning in you, his nails (or the nubs that could have been nails since he bites them just to spite you) digging into the meat of your thighs and holding you as close to his lips as you can get. Mingi can feel the way your body shakes over him. Every swipe of his tongue through your folds, every time he sucks at your clit. You clench every time he touches you, your hands tightening around the dark strands of hair attached to his head. 

“Is this the best you can do?” Your breathing is heavy, causing you to stumble through the sentence while trying to appear unaffected. Mingi’s eyes flick open, peering at you through your thighs, catching your gaze and trying desperately to not look at the way your breasts seem to glow, how your whole body seems to glow at this moment. 

He pulls his tongue away from you, smirking when you catch yourself halfway through a whine. 

“You’re so much of a loser that you can’t even please your girlfriend?” You sneer, your lip curling and your eyes narrowing. Mingi scoffs, practically shoving you off of him, onto the other end of the couch. You yelp, and Mingi watches the way your body recoils from the landing. Watches your tits bounce, your thighs squeezing together from the pleasure ripped away from you. The way you look at him is pathetic. Big, bulging eyes and your jaw dropped open. 

“You think you’re so great?” He shoots right back at you, shoving his pants down his legs. “Hm?”

You can’t respond, not when he’s manhandling you into the position he wants you in seemingly uncaring that you hadn’t finished.

On the ground kneeling before him as if he’s your god, ready to take his leaking cock down your throat. 

You stare up at him with your unbuttoned blouse hanging off one shoulder. Your little cunt is practically weeping, your arousal dripping down your legs from being brought so close to the edge and having your orgasm ripped away from you because of your own brattiness. You sit there waiting for him to make a move but he just stares at you. There’s a curious look in his eyes and it makes you nervous. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You ask. 

“Jus’ thinkin’.” He shrugs and kneels down to your level. 

“About?” You like this moment. The calm before the storm. His hand comes to rest on your cheek, stroking it lovingly. You let your eyes flutter shut, leaning into him and sighing.

It’s another moment before he speaks again.

“You’re lucky you’re hot,” His tone is harsh again, and suddenly your torso is being shoved toward the ground. You gag when his cock enters your mouth, choking when he shoves your head as far down as he can get it without hurting you. 

“Lucky that I love these tits,” with the hand that isn’t forcing you up and down on his cock, he reaches to grip one harshly in his large palm. 

“Lucky that this sweet little cunt of yours is always so tight for me.” This time, when he forces you back down on him, he holds you there and lets his hand leave a harsh slap against your sopping-wet heat. The force he puts behind it forces your body forward, and a loud groan leaves Mingi. “Shit, feels so good, baby.” 

Pathetic is how you feel. Mascara streams down your cheeks, leaving dark lines on your skin. Your face is becoming red from both the lack of air and the words he hisses into the warm air of your apartment. You can feel his tip punching the back of your throat every time you take him, your freshly done nails dig into his thighs and leave red marks that begin to bleed when you scrape them down his leg.

It isn’t exactly odd to see this side of your boyfriend. Every argument turns into some sort of sexual act. Forcing you to grind on his thigh for hours until you squirt all over him, bending you over his lap and spanking you until your skin is raw and it hurts to sit the next day, pinning you to your bed and ramming his cock into you from behind. 

Your vision blurs and you try to pull yourself off of him, gagging as you do so. You can feel him twitching in your mouth and can hear his groans become louder and higher in pitch. You can feel your mind growing fuzzy, willing yourself to hold on for just a little longer—

Mingi pushes you down on him one last time, holding you there while he empties into your throat and forcing you to swallow every last drop so you don’t choke. His cum is warm and bitter and you squeeze your eyes shut as it just keeps pumping out. His body shudders beneath you, his hand tightening in your hair as the last drops hit the back of your tongue. 

When he releases you, you don’t have the energy to pull away from him. You let your head rest on his thigh, his softening member resting just inches away from your swollen lips. Mingi leans his body back, one hand supporting him and the other gently brushing your hair out of your face. Your throat is sore, your breaths coming out raspy, and you feel Mingi’s hand trace its way down to brush against your carotid. 

“Can you turn over for me?” His voice is hushed now, but you can hear the amusement. You can feel it in the way his breathing picks up when you whine. “My poor princess, can’t handle her loser boyfriend’s cock? Can’t let him return the favor?” 

Your head tilts up at an awkward angle to look at him, and his heart stutters a little bit in his chest.

Yes, Mingi hates you a little bit. But fuck does it help that you’re kinda hot.

#itsbeeble #kpop #kpop imagines #reese’s pieces 🗞️ #reese's works 📩 #reese's moots 🩵 #kpop smut #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez smut #song mingi #song mingi imagines #song mingi smut #ateez x reader #song mingi x reader #mingi #mingi imagines #mingi smut #mingi x reader #fawn~ 🧼 #brie~ 🫧

[itsbeeble]

LET LOOSE

SUMMARY: Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst, crack

PAIRING: Kim Younghoon x afab!reader (ft. eric)

WC: 5.3K

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: Swearing, public sex, floor sex, academic rivals that everyone knows secretly want to fuck, enemies to lovers, missionary (that's a first wow), sexual references, mentions of alcohol, insults (not sexual), arguments, pining, mentions of killing someone as a joke, dry humping for like two seconds, making out, mentions of marking, mentions of oral, guys i think this is the least slutty fic I've written for this series, y/n is stuck in a perpetual state of denial, let me know if I missed anything but i think that's it

A/N: Everyone allow me to introduce Doll's less-slutty cousin!! I can't believe we're over halfway through this collab omg. I'm really glad people are loving this and I hope you guys have been catching the easter eggs me and Fawn have been throwing into our fics 😏

If anyone asked you what you thought of when you thought of local star student, heartthrob, and frat boy Kim Younghoon, you would scoff and cross your arms over your chest. 

“I hate him,” you would say, your lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed until they were practically touching. “I hope his house burns to the fucking ground.” 

One would think this was a gross overreaction, that you probably held a grudge over something stupid, or that he killed your dog or maybe he copied off your essay but made it seem like you were the one who plagiarized. And oh, how that would’ve been much simpler. 

The true story, however, goes all the way back—

“Thinking about me again?” A hand cracks down on the desk in front of you, your mind and body jerking back to reality. 

There he is, you think to yourself, the bane of my fucking existence. Your teeth are already grinding together, your grip tightening around the pencil you’d been using to write your notes and all he’s doing is standing there with a stupid fucking smirk. 

“Why would I be thinking of you?” You bite out and Younghoon places a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“Ouch, sweetheart.” Your body stiffens and your face contorts with disgust at the nickname.

“Don’t call me that, douchebag.” Younghoon sighs dramatically, dropping down to be at eye level with you. 

“So cruel to me,” a pout, and then he’s smirking again. “What if I was into that, sweetheart?” 

You might throw up.

“What do you want?” you groan, noting how other students have begun to flood out of the lecture hall while you’re putting your things away. Younghoon shrugs, rising to his feet at the same time as you. Had you been a weaker woman, his height would’ve had your knees wobbling and your panties hitting the ground but, fortunately, you were a strong woman. Some of your friends couldn’t relate to that despite your very clear and very much valid hatred for him. 

“I just wanted to see what you were up to,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back onto his heels. “Considering that we’re now partners for this assignment.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, your eyes widen, and your cheeks are fighting between going pale and burning bright as a tomato.

“What are you— what do you mean we’re partners?” You echo, and his smirk only widens. Your shoulder bashes into his arm while you make your way to the front of the lecture hall where the list of partners is posted. He trails behind you, long legs making it easy to keep pace despite how impossibly fast you seem to walk.

“Aren’t you so excited?” He sounds too excited about this, and you have to physically stop yourself from grabbing him by the neck and choking him where he stands. “We get to work together for the whole semester!”

“I still don’t see how this is a problem,” Dawon tells you her tongue running over her lip as she watches you pace the length of your dorm suite’s lounge area. “Isn’t he, like, super hot? And smart?”

Your lip curls into a sneer and you whip your body around to look at her.

“He is not hot,” your voice has raised in pitch, your arms waving frantically. “He’s— he’s stupid and— and annoying, and he doesn’t know how to shut up, and his face— oh his face is just so— so—”

“Kissable?” Suyeon offers when she makes her way over with a steaming mug of tea. 

“I think rideable is a better word,” Dawon grins at the way your jaw drops at the two of them. 

“He does have a very rideable—”

“Okay, enough!” You snap, your face beginning to burn bright red in anger.

“Ooh she’s blushing!” Suyeon giggles and your face only burns brighter. 

“You both are insufferable,” you throw yourself back onto the couch, your head turned toward the ceiling. “Kim Younghoon is annoying, stuck up, and his face is not kissable or rideable.” 

“So you’re saying you’ve thought about it before?” Suyeon presses and you roll your eyes.

“Hell no. Why would I think about that?”

“Because he’s your mortal enemy and everyone ends up fucking their mortal enemy at some point.”

“Plus he’s a yummy, scrumptious, daddy cupcake.”

“Ugh, so true Dawon.” Suyeon squeezes your roommate’s hand, the two of them grinning deviously at each other.

“That’s— did you just call him— No, that’s not the point. The point is, that’s not true!” You lift your head, eyes wide with horror. “That only happens in books!”

“Not just books,” Suyeon raises her mug to her lips with a hint of a smirk on her face. “Didn’t you hear about the KAT and TBZ presidents?” 

“Oh my god, Eric told me about that!” Dawon gasps. “Apparently they—”

“I don’t need to know the details of their sex lives.” You interrupt again. “God, you two are just…”

“Don’t you just love us?” Dawon winks at you, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“Let’s not go that far.” Her lips twist, and the three of you go quiet for a moment. 

“Why do you even hate him?” 

Ah, there it is. The same question everyone had been asking since the day you started at this school. 

Why do you hate Kim Younghoon? 

“It’s complicated,” you tell them what you always say. You tell them that it’s nothing they should be concerned about. He knows what he did.

“Then uncomplicate it.” Suyeon is much softer than Dawon, her eyes furrowed but not with the mild irritation Dawon has. It’s more…concern than anything else, and for a moment you think about telling them. Think about dropping your petty act, let them know exactly what about Younghoon bothers you so much. 

You open your mouth, and the two girls in front of you lean forward expectantly, practically on the edge of the tiny couch that had been squeezed into the suite.

“I can’t.”

“That isn’t going to work, sweetheart.” Younghoon says, waltzing up to you after your failed attempt to talk your professor into letting you change partners or work alone. Your shoulders are slumped in defeat, something that Younghoon seems to laugh at. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I really hate you, Kim Younghoon.” You lift your head, wanting so desperately to glare at him but you can only find the strength to stare blankly. He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” 

“Who cares? It’s true.” 

You want to scream. You want to throw your body onto the ground and throw a tantrum, to cry and whine, to kick and punch the air—anything to get out of this situation. 

“All this because I got a better grade than you in one class in high school.” Younghoon shakes his head, his hair falling into his face and obscuring his eyes partially. Your heart thuds against your ribcage (because of the memory, obviously). 

“You really think that’s the only reason I hate you?” Hint: he’s right for once. Would you ever tell him that? No. As far as he knows, you have endless reasons to hate him. As long as he lives, that list will grow. In fact, it would be better if he knew that you’d be pissed if he died before you because that means he tried to escape one last competition, but you’d hate it even more if he died after you because that means he would win one last time.

“That’s all I can think of,” he shrugs and you kiss your teeth. 

“Disappointing me again, douchebag.” He scoffs at that.

“Of course I am. When am I not upsetting you about some bullshit?” 

Oddly, this time you don’t answer him. At least you don’t give him an answer to that question. 

“Listen, Kim Younghoon,” you place a hand on your hip, shifting your weight to lean mostly on one leg. He leans toward you a bit, slightly angling his head as if trying to hear you better. “You’re the most annoying, egotistical, snobbish boy I’ve ever met. You always have this, like, need to be better than me— than everyone.” 

Younghoon inhales, his eyebrows knitting together and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. You can see the irritation in his gaze, can see him fighting the urge to snap at you and it has your stomach churning. When he finally responds, it’s not exactly what you expected. You thought he would snap back at you, tell you to go fuck yourself, to call you the same insults you just called him.

He doesn’t.

“Meet me in the library at 4 o’clock.” Your head jerks back, your nose wrinkling with confusion. 

“Excuse me?” Younghoon just smiles coyly, already turning away from you.

“Don’t you wanna get this project done so you don’t have to deal with me?” He can practically see the wheels turning in your brain, contemplating all your options. 

“I mean yeah, but how do you know if I’m even free—”

“You’re always at the cafe at the same time as me,” Younghoon glances down at you, stepping to the side as he pushes open the door of the lecture hall. You say nothing as you push by him. “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me, sweetheart.”

“That’s not— I would never— how—” You sputter, stumbling over your words and waving your hands in the air while you try to come up with something to say. Something to deny. Younghoon begins to smile again, coy and near-mocking. 

“I don’t hear you actively denying anything.” His eyes widen and he bends forward, lowering his face to be near yours. Your cheeks are heating up, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Words. You need words. Why is nothing coming out?

“Shut the hell up, douchebag.” He laughs and your stomach churns again. Is he laughing at you?

“I’ll see you at 4, sweetheart.” Younghoon starts to reach his hand toward you as he leans up, but thinks better of it and drops it back to his side. 

“Yeah, sure,” you scoff and turn your back to him.

Fucking prick.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You toss a stack of papers onto the table you’re sitting at, glaring at the notes Younghoon wrote on the whiteboard. He’d rented a study room for a few hours, giving you time to start working. 

Or, at least, try to start working. You had made no promises about not trying to kill him and making it so neither of you could get any work done. Although, you had thought about running him over with your car so that you would have an excuse to work on this alone.

The blinds over the door had been shut, blocking anyone from looking in and potentially seeing you try to kill a man. Lucky for you.

“What’s so wrong with what I wrote?” He squints at the board and you push yourself out of the old, creaky chair you’d been sitting in. 

“It’s contradictory!” You complain, reaching around him for the eraser. He grabs your hand before you can do anything, turning on you with a scathing glare. 

“It’s not, though!” 

His grip tightens on your wrist when you pull it away. You narrow your eyes, but he doesn’t waver at all. There’s heat behind his gaze, heat that makes you nervous. You know he won’t hurt you, that’s not who he is. The heat though…that makes you nervous. It’s the same heat you’d felt several times in the past few weeks. 

“Let me go, Kim Younghoon.” He leans his head toward yours and your throat begins to close, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Not until you tell me why it’s contradictory!” He snaps. You swear your ears start to ring, your vision closing in until all you can see is Younghoon. 

“It’s— why does it matter so much to you?” His grip finally loosens and you rip away from him with a huff. 

“Because you’re putting down my work! Again!” He flings his hands into the air and you bite your tongue. “Why do you hate me so much?”

A lump in your throat, tears in your eyes, and Younghoon drops your hand. He looks defeated, his shoulders slumping and his lips set into a deep frown. 

“I just,” Younghoon sits in his chair, the old wood creaking under his weight. You stand in the middle of the study room, hands by your sides and your eyes flicking around nervously. Your posture is so tense compared to his, your eyes flitting around anxiously. “I’m tired of this shit. Not knowing what the fuck I did wrong. You never give me a reason and, at first, I was fine with it. I liked the casual rivalry. But now I’m just…it’s been four years, and I still don’t know what I did.”

“Choi Yuna.” It comes out fast, the name of your ex-best friend. So fast that Younghoon doesn’t catch it, he just stares at you with a look of pure confusion.

“What?”

You say her name slower this time, tugging at the edge of your shirt. “Choi Yuna, you dated her from freshman year until late sophomore year.” 

“Okay, yeah,” he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “What does she have to do with this?” 

Your cheeks are burning, and you know he can see it. See how flustered you are.

“She was my best friend.” You bite on your tongue, trying to find the right words. 

“I know,” he said, and you purse your lips. “She talked about you all the time.”

“That’s funny,” you scoff, a spark of anger returning to your tone and to your facial features. “Considering she’s the reason I hated you for so long.”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Younghoon huffs, rubbing at his eyes with his palms. You can tell he’s frustrated, so you speak quicker.

“She— she knew that I liked you.” His eyes snap up, wide and bulging. “She knew that I wanted to ask you out in freshman year, so she made sure to get there first. I— at first I thought that you knew that’s why she did it.”

“You thought that I knew your best friend wanted—” Younghoon huffs and rises to his feet. 

“Just—” You hold up your hands as he begins to step toward you, slowly backing you into the wall. “Just let me talk. I thought you knew, yes. She told me that you asked her out first and that she just— she just agreed. So yeah, I started to hate you. I started arguing with you and every answer you gave in class because I was just so…angry at— at everything, at myself.”

Your back is against the wall now, and you’re slowly curling in on yourself as Younghoon gets closer. 

“And…?” he cocks an eyebrow and your swallow thickly.

“By the time I realized that it was all her….at that point it was just easier to keep hating you. To keep everything at bay.”

“Everything?” He echoes and had you been looking at his face instead of his chest, you would’ve seen the smirk you’d always claimed to hate plastered onto his face. 

“Yes,” you groan and lift your head. Your breathing hitches in your throat, your body pushing even closer to the wall when you finally see just how close Younghoon is to you. 

Just a few inches from your face is his own, his eyes dancing from your eyes to your lips. His breathing is, compared to yours, slow and even. Inhale, hold, exhale. You can see his chest rising and falling with the rhythm. 

“Why—” you clear your throat. “Why are you so close to me, Younghoon?”

“No legal name this time?” He murmurs, one of his hands coming up to rest on the wall beside your head. His head dips down and now his lips are brushing against yours, every breath you take mixing with his. “What happened?”

“I just— you’re a little close to me.” Your hand presses on his chest, but it's as if you aren’t even trying to push him away. “We— we probably shouldn’t.”

Younghoon kisses his teeth, shaking his head at your suggestion. Arguably, it’s a wise choice, but right now he has you exactly where he wants you. If he lets you leave now, who’s to say you won’t pack your bags and take a one-way flight to Brazil?

“I’ve been waiting,” he says and you squeeze the hand on his chest into a fist. “For three years for you to get your head out of your ass. I’m not letting you go now that I have you.”

“Have me?” Your tone shifts into one of challenge rather than the nervous air you’d surrounded yourself with. “If anything, I have you, Kim Younghoon.”

You yank him to you by his shirt, reaching up on your tip toes to place a firm kiss on his plush lips. You hear a groan rumbling in his throat, the hand not on the wall wrapping around your waist and squeezing tightly. Your lips mesh together, but it isn’t messy. It’s slow, calculated just like every move either of you had made against each other. Every argument, every challenge. The build-up. It all led to this, and you’re not letting him go this time. He’s yours and Choi Yuna can’t take him this time. 

With a new fervor, both of your hands come to lace into his thick strands of black hair, effectively trapping his lips against yours. He drops the hand that was on the wall, both hands now on your waist and sipping under the loose fabric of your shirt. You gasp at the cold feeling of his hands on your skin, and he takes that opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. It’s experimental, the way his tongue caresses yours, pushing gently and letting you suck at the warm muscle. He listens to the pretty little whimper you let out when he does the same thing in return and a shiver runs down his spine. His hand slides up the back of your shirt, emerging from the collar and lacing into the strands of your hair. 

Air. You had to come up for air. You needed to breathe. Your lungs are aching, but fuck his lips are addicting. They’re soft, and warm, and they feel so good against yours. 

Your knees cave slightly, your mind going fuzzy and Younghoon rips away from you to steady your body, his knee shoved between your legs to help keep you upright. 

“Sweetheart,” his tone is lighthearted, but you know he’s scolding you. “You need to learn to breathe. I’m not leaving just because you need some air.” 

A pretty little whine escapes you, but Younghoon is quick to realize that it’s not because you can’t find the words to respond to him. Well, if you think about it, that kind of was the reason. 

Your hips are rolling down on his knee, your hands gripping his shoulder for dear life as you ride his thigh. Your head is rolled to the side, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to find the right pace and the right amount of pleasure to ease your arousal. Younghoon’s jaw drops, and he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the sight of you trying so desperately to relieve yourself on him. Unfortunately for you, he notes, your jeans seem to be in the way of you achieving your pleasure. 

“Sweetheart,” he coos but his voice is shaky and he thanks god that you’re too far gone to notice. “Look at you, trying so hard to get yourself off.” 

You whine, and his breathing hitches when you try to ride him even harder. 

“Is it not enough?” He presses and your eyes fly open with the quick nod of your head. But then you shake it, and his heart clenches at the confused furrow of your brow.

“‘S not!” You whine. “Need more, Hoonie.” 

He smiles when you reach one of your hands down, undoing the button of your jeans and trying desperately to shove them down as far as they can physically go without interrupting your ministrations. To your dismay, they barely get anywhere before Younghoon has to set you down and starts to tug them down your legs gently. 

You never thought you would enjoy watching a man get down on his knees for you, never thought you could have this much of a reaction to it. Younghoon though…the sight of him looking up at you through his lashes, the nearly pathetic look in his eyes when he sees just how soaked your panties are— it’s enough to have you practically crumbling to the ground, your lips crashing against his again and forcing him back to lay on the ground. 

His hands are everywhere— your hair, your hips, your ass, anywhere he can reach. He squeezes the soft flesh of your ass when your lips trail down his neck, sucking little marks into the skin and pulling groans and quiet whimpers from his throat. 

Your hands run under his shirt, and he weakly tries to help you push it over his head to be tossed somewhere else. You shush him, a playful look in your eye as you place a finger on his lips. 

“Gotta be quiet now,” you unbutton his jeans, slowly dragging them and his boxers down and he lifts his hips to help you slide them down to his knees. He doesn’t bother with your shirt but makes quick work of your bra and shoves it up. You’re sliding your panties down your legs when he shoves his hands under your shirt, squeezing and tugging at the soft mounds of flesh on your chest. A quiet moan at the feeling of him tugging at your nipples, and his hands falter momentarily when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he teases and you scoff while lining him up with your sopping wet pussy. You know he’s big, both of you do, but you’d never admit that to his face. Never admit that you’re nervous about taking it all in, nervous that you won’t be able to take him at all.

“As if your little dick could possibly hurt me—” your voice catches and he watches with strained amusement as you begin to sink down on him. Your walls are tight around him, practically squeezing the life out of his poor cock while you try so desperately to keep sliding down on him. Younghoon pulls his hands out of your shirt, sliding them down to your hips and gently rubbing them as a means to ease your discomfort.

“What were you saying about my little dick?” Younghoon sneers and you have to fight back the whine that threatens to slip out of you. He’s just over halfway in when you force yourself to give up, the stretch beginning to be too much for you to handle. “I could’ve prepped you, y’know? Made this easier for us both.”

You can only lower your head onto his shoulder, biting harshly into the skin while he flips you around and pushes your legs up toward your chest. 

“Hold these here, sweetheart.” You do as he says, gasping sharply when he begins to sink into you. 

“Fuck, Younghoon!” 

“Shhh,” he kisses you gently while continuing to press into you, using the width of his shoulders to gently spread your legs a bit further apart. “‘M almost there, I promise.”

“‘S too much,” you whimper, a tear slipping out of your eye and dripping onto the carpeted floor below you. “‘S too much, Hoonie.”

“I know sweetheart,” he coos and looks down at where the two of you are connected. He fights the sudden urge to cum when he sees the fluttering of your walls, sees them clenching around him, and trying to force him out. “I’m almost there.” 

Another whine from you and he quickly slides the last three inches into you, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the scream you release. He stays still for a moment, listening to the sound of you sniffling, and turns his head briefly to look at the door. A shadow passes by and he exhales quietly. 

“And you were worried about me being too loud. Who’s the one with a hand over her mouth, hm?” You can’t don’t respond and Younghoon pulls out entirely, leaving just the tip inside of you, and when you whine and let go of one of your legs to reach out for him, he sinks into you in one harsh thrust. 

The moan you let out behind Younghoon’s hand is guttural, and your back arches off the floor. His thrusts are rapid, yet he doesn’t falter in pattern. He sinks deep inside of you, punching into you so deep that you swear he’s going to hit your cervix. He lets his hand drop from your mouth listening to the way you try to hold back your noises. Every whine, every whimper and moan and cry, you try so hard for him. 

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Keeping quiet and letting me fuck her real good.” His voice is so quiet, the words practically hissed into your ear and it’s so hot that your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

Your grip on your legs loosens and then your hands drop them entirely, letting them fall onto his sturdy shoulders. He watches as both of your hands disappear under your shirt and he feels a pang of irritation as you begin to play with your nipples. They draw sharper noises out of you, higher in pitch and slightly louder. Although, Younghoon can’t complain when the combined pleasure has your cunt fluttering around him and fresh waves of arousal washing through you to make it easier for him to fuck in and out of you.

“Hoon,” your whine is loud. Too loud. “So close, please!” 

Younghoon hushes you again, his hand running up the side of your leg and squeezing at the flesh of your thigh. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he tells you. “You gotta be quiet f’ me. Gotta be quiet so nobody walks in, okay?” 

“I can’t.” You sob out and Younghoon pushes himself closer to you, practically folding you in half so he can kiss you. You open up immediately, whining and letting him slide his tongue in for you to suck on.

Younghoon’s hips begin to stutter, his body shaking against yours, but you’re closer. Your body spasms, and you nip at his tongue to keep him close to you while you cum. Younghoon grunts at the combined feeling of your bites and the clenching of your walls around his length. It’s all a bit too much and it only takes a few more thrusts before he’s shuddering and collapsing against you, spilling ropes of white hot cum inside of you. 

He can feel the combination of his and your cum beginning to squeeze out of you around the tight fit of his dick inside of you, but he doesn’t have the strength to pull out of you just yet. You’ve stopped biting at him, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth slowly sucking at the warm muscle he continues to provide you. 

Your body is sore, your thighs aching and likely bruised when you walk into your dorm a few hours later. You hadn’t gotten any work done after that, spending the rest of the time making out in a chair and grinding on each other like some damn horny teenagers. You know you’re a disaster, but you’re more than content with that knowing that Younghoon looks the same (if not worse). 

When the door clicks shut, it’s dark in the suite and you silently thank god that Dawon and Suyeon are asle—

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The lights flick on to reveal your two friends at the counter in the suite’s living area. Dawon looks furious, but Suyeon looks like she just wants to go to be. You grimace, dropping your bag off your shoulder and onto the ground next to you. 

“Out.” Your voice is hoarse and you grimace. You imagine your throat is a little bit bruised from…things.

“Doing what.” Dawon snaps.

“Or who, judging by the looks of you.” Suyeon clicks her tongue and rises from the couch. “Look at you! It looks like someone tried to eat you!” 

Dawon squints at you, and you turn your gaze to the floor. 

“You fucked him, didn’t you?” She inquires, but you both already know the answer. 

“Who?” Suyeon frowns. “Who did she fuck?”

Your nose wrinkles, and you turn to her with a look that says I think you know. Suyeon tilts her head, her eyebrows knitting together in thought. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh. OH— OH MY GOD—”

The Tau Beta Zeta frat house isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. At least not party-wise. The moment you and your friends walk in, you’re engulfed in noise, drunk partygoers, and scattered members of the frat. In one corner you can see what looks like two members of the frat making out with their girlfriends. Haknyeon and Changmin, Dawon said, Too bad they couldn’t find a private space. Damn exhibitionists. A smile quirks on your lips just slightly. Oh, if only she knew the truth.

You barely acknowledge her, however, scanning the room for Younghoon. 

“Eric!” You grab the passing boy by the arm and he jerks to a stop, nearly spilling the contents of two cups. 

“Yo!” He grins at you, and you can just faintly see the crinkle of his eyes under the red baseball cap of his. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen Younghoon?” Eric purses his lips in thought.

“You aren’t gonna kill him, right?” You laugh and so does he.

“No, not anymore. Or…I might if he doesn’t show up soon—”

“BOO!” Someone’s hands wrap around your waist lifting you off the ground and spinning you as you scream for him to put you down. Eric slips away, casting his eyes behind him to watch you and Younghoon as he approaches a girl in the corner. 

“Kim Younghoon!” You snap, swatting him upside the head. Your boyfriend smirks at you, bending down to try and give you a kiss that you block. “Don’t kiss me, you douche! That wasn’t funny!”

“It was kinda funny,” he laughs, swooping in to give a kiss that you choose not to block this time. It’s deep and slow, and he tilts his head to get a better taste of you when you bring your hand to the back of his neck. 

“Mmm, I think I like it when you don’t hate me.” He murmurs when he pulls back, grinning wickedly when you place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

“Do you now?” 

“Mhm.”

“Shouldn’t have scared me then.” You scowl, turning away from him and beginning to stalk away. He scrambles after you, frantically trying to keep up despite the crowd. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, grasping at your fingertips. You turn your head, a coy smile playing on your lips. 

“We gotta let loose, don’t we? We’re a little tense right now.” 

A puddle of drool is practically forming in Younghoon’s mouth and he’s suddenly in front of you, moving with a renewed fervor. 

When the door of the third bedroom on the right of the third floor shuts and clicks locked, nobody questions it. Not the thumping, nor the loud grunts and moans. 

When someone needs to let loose, people know better than to interrupt. Especially when it’s Younghoon and his former-crush-turned-enemy-turned-girlfriend.

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#blackoutorbackout🍻 #itsbeeble #reese's works 📩 #reese's pieces 🗞️ #reese's moots #ally~ ⛄️ #fawn~ 🧼 #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop x reader #the boyz #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz fluff #the boyz smut #the boyz angst #kim younghoon #younghoon imagines #younghoon x reader #younghoon smut #younghoon fluff #can you guys tell that i cried writing this #almost didn't finish in time #actually i rewrote it like five times #couldn't get it quite right #but be glad it's not 10k jesus christ

[itsbeeble]

Gorgeous

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

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst (MAJOR ANGST)

PAIRING: Xu Minghao x afab!reader

WC: 5.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

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

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

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

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

“Why?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“None of your business—”

“L/N Y/N—”

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s taken.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What else have they told you?”

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

“And…?” He leans his head down a bit. 

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

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

“Not at all.”

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

“Seungcheol might not like that very much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.”

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

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

“Correct.” 

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

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

Seungcheol nods slowly, his tongue digging into his cheek. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Makes what hard, my flower.” 

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

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

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

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

“Minghao—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I— what—” you can’t breathe. 

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.” 

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

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

No response.

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

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

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

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

No one would ever respect you. 

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

Thinking about him here in this hospital room…

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

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

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

“We can go. It’s over now.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#itsbeeble #reese's works 📩 #reese's moots 🩵 #bar~ 🍵 #beam~ ⚡️ #fawn~ 🧼 #ally~ ⛄️ #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop smut #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #xu minghao #minghao imagines #minghao smut #the8 smut #the8 fluff #the8 x reader #the8 imagines #xu minhao imagines

[itsbeeble]

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER (pt 1)

SUMMARY: It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

GENRE: smut, very little fluff, a lot of angst

PAIRING: Kevin Moon x afab!reader

WC: 4.3k

SERIES MASTERLIST PART 2

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez @flwoie

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: insults (nonsexual), mentions of injuries, mentions of what is basically sabotage, kevin is actually really kind of a bad person to y/n yall im sorry, kevin is still stupid (keeping with the trends), kevin is emotionally constipated but so is y/n but she's less emotionally constipated, pining, enemies to lovers, making out, marking, hair pulling, scratching, dry humping, poor attempts at humor, guys i'm actually warning you kevin is a total asshole in this

A/N: Idk why i went the angsty route for this but i'm very very excited to be releasing the final installment of this series. this was supposed to be released on christmas but me and fawn did not give ourselves NEARLY enough time to actually prepare this so we had to push it off. Much love, kiss kiss. Anyway thank you to everyone for reading this collab. This is part 1 of the final installment, so please be on the lookout for part 2 on fawn's page!!

You couldn’t have been more excited to be partnered with Kevin Moon for the end-of-year exhibition. He was kind, he was incredibly talented, he was funny, he—

“You have to be fucking joking.”

— hated your goddamn guts.

You weren’t even sure why. One day the two of you had been just a couple of freshmen, excited to become the best versions of yourselves, and the next…it was like Kevin suddenly decided that he just hated everything about you. He did everything from mocking your solo performances to outright screaming at you for the tiniest of mistakes that not even your professors had picked up on. Your foot was a centimeter too far to the left, your back was arched too much, or your arm looked flimsy. Anything that he could possibly berate you for, he found it. 

“Language, Moon.” Your professor scolded, hovering beside you and gauging both of your reactions. Your thumbnail is wedged between your teeth, and your free hand is wrapped around your waist. Kevin is fuming across from you, staring at the paper with such intensity you fear that it would catch fire. 

“Professor, you can’t possibly expect me to work with her!” Kevin flings his hand out in your direction, and you scoff. 

“You make it sound like this is my fault.” 

“Isn’t it?” He raises an eyebrow, lips curling up into a nasty sneer. “Most things usually are.”

“Oh really?” You drop your hands to your side, taking a small step toward him. 

“Yes!” 

“Like what?” 

You’re inches away from each other now, a palpable tension between the two of you that had your professor shuffling back uncomfortably. A few lingering students glanced at the two of you, whispering amongst each other. 

Do you think they really hate each other?

I think that they’re doing this just for show, just like Sangyeon and his girlfriend.

Maybe they really do hate each other…or, at least, one of them does.

“Like the class performance of Princess and the Pauper last year.” Kevin grins smugly, as if he’d won some sort of competition between the two of you. There’s a flash of anger and hurt in your eyes.

“Let’s not remember that you were the one who dropped me, Kevin.” The smugness dissipates and now your “opponent” is standing uncomfortably before you. 

“I— I know that, but—” You cut him off abruptly, and there are a few tears brimming in your eyes. 

“You know damn fucking well that the performance would’ve been fine had you not intentionally let me fall. It’s your fault that happened, not mine.”

“Y/N,” your professor warns. “Let’s calm down, shall we?” 

Her hand on your shoulder steels you, and your body relaxes. 

“The two of you,” she speaks slowly and calmly but there’s cold authority in her tone, “are going to work together on this performance, and you are going to work nicely. I will not be tolerating arguments this time. If you two cannot prove to me that you can work together as a team then I will fail you, and I will recommend you both be removed from the program. Am I understood?”

You bite on your tongue, eyeing Kevin and waiting for him to respond first. His words dug deep into you. It was easy for you to take the blame for mistakes you made, for starting on the wrong beat. But for him to blame you for his mistake? That was going too far. That was crossing a line that no dancer should ever cross (i know nothing about dancing). 

“Understood,” Kevin mutters after a moment, and you nod your head slowly. 

“Understood.”

“I think we should do Angel by Keshi.”

“And I think that’s the dumbest fucking idea I’ve ever heard.”

Your eyes widen when Kevin says that with his back flat on the ground of the practice room you’d rented. He’s got a stress ball in his hand, throwing it toward the ceiling and waiting for it to fall back down into his hand. For at least an hour, it had been, essentially, a one-sided discussion with you throwing out ideas and Kevin ignoring you as best he could until you threatened to tell the professor he wasn’t being cooperative. He’d proceeded to call you a “stupid snitch” before responding to each suggestion you threw out with something negative.

“If it’s so dumb then how about you give a suggestion for once?” You retort. “Instead of just sitting there moping like a child.” 

“Ooh, good one,” Kevin says mockingly, his eyes narrowing at you after. You know he can see you’re getting frustrated with him. You can see it in the smirk he sends your way as he sits up. “Stings real bad, Y/N.”

“Why are you such a prick?” You grab your crossed ankles, rocking back and forth on your butt. 

“Why are you such a teacher’s pet?”

“I’m…I’m literally not.” Your head tilts and Kevin shrugs.

“Sure you aren’t.” 

“Can you focus please?” Kevin rolls his eyes when you change the subject, leaning back onto the palms of his hands and spreading his legs out in front of him. 

“I’ve been focused, you’re the one who keeps getting distracted by me.” 

Your jaw falls slack. You kept getting distracted? The whole time the two of you had been in this room, he had done absolutely nothing to contribute. You, arguably, were the only one not distracted!

“What if we did—”

“Partition by Beyoncé.” Kevin interrupts you, and you quirk an eyebrow.

“I’m not doing that song with you.”

A smirk, and he leans forward. “Why? Afraid you’ll be seduced by your enemy?” 

It's too late for that. “Nope. I just don’t wanna be that close to you at all. You fucking smell.” 

For the first time ever, Kevin falls silent. His jaw hangs open and his eyebrows shoot to his hairline. Internally, you cheer at how you were likely the first person (as far as you know) to make him shut up for a few moments. 

“I do not smell!” He snaps, finally jolted from his stupor when you clear your throat. 

“You kinda do, Kev,” you pick at something on the ground. “Sorry to be the one that broke it to you.”

“Don’t call me Kev.” 

You look at him, and his nose is wrinkled with disgust. He doesn’t look angry, per se, but he isn’t exactly the most pleased you’ve seen him. 

“Sorry.” 

Kevin goes quiet again, and now both of you are picking at the floor. 

“So we’re doing Angel, right?” You ask, trying to clear the awkward air. Your partner kisses his teeth and shakes his head.

“I really think we should do Partition.”

“Why are you so set on doing such a sexual song?” Your cheeks are warm, but you try to ignore it as best you can. Kevin notices, that smug smile returning to his face.

“Why are you so uncomfortable with it? People love these types of performances.” He has a point, but you’ll die before you let him know it. “They love tension between dancers. Gives them a thrill.”

“It’ll be thrilling when they see my fist in your face,” you mumble so he can’t hear you.

“What?” His eyebrows knit together and you smile coyly.

“What?” Your voice is pitched up to mock him, and a muscle feathers in his jaw. 

“We’re doing Partition.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” 

He kisses his teeth again, returning to leaning on the palms of his hands. You lay flat on your back, fingers splayed across your stomach. 

“You’re annoying. You know that, right?” You hear him shift on the ground, and then his face appears in your periphery  A dry laugh escapes you.

“That’s not what your mom said last night.” 

“Don’t— don’t talk about my mom.” You lift your head off the ground, a lazy grin plastered onto your face when you see Kevin’s lips twitching. “That— that wasn’t funny. Like, at all.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t, Kevin.” You agree, lowering your head back to the ground. 

“I’m serious, Y/N. You aren’t funny.” He stands up, gathering his belongings and keeping his back turned. Had you not seen him fighting a smile just a moment ago, you would have thought he was truly angry with you. Or, perhaps, he was angry with you, but the joke was enough to get him to crack a smile.

“I believe you,” you sat up again, following his lead and grabbing your own items. “Totally. Why wouldn’t I?” 

He turns to look at you again, his expression shockingly dull when he meets your eyes. The tension is back, and you shuffle awkwardly in your spot. In the silence of the practice room, you’re struck with the urge to ask him questions. Why he hates you, why he dropped you during the performance. It had been on your mind for so long, but not once have you had the strength to ask. Now, though, you have an unstoppable urge. 

You clear your throat, dipping your head down for a second and then lifting it to keep your eyes on him. 

“Why d—” 

You’ve barely gotten one word out before Kevin interrupts you again, taking long and heavy steps to the door. It’s as if he’d sensed your questions, your curiosity. His timing certainly made it seem that way.

“I’ll text you when we can start working on the choreography.”

Kevin slams the door of the TBZ house so hard that the walls shake. 

“Why the fuck are you slamming my doors?” Sangyeon yells from his bedroom, his voice muffled by the distance between them. 

“Sorry!” Kevin yells back, but he’s not. He’s not sorry at all, not now at least. Why the fuck did he have to get paired with you? Of all the people in the class, why did the professor think it was a good idea to stick the two people who hate each other the most on a team?

“You’re lucky that Sangyeon’s too busy getting his dick sucked to care that you slammed the door.” Changmin peers at Kevin from the kitchen counter, hunched over with a frog-shaped cup in his hand. The older of the two wrinkles his nose in disgust, making his way to the counter and sinking into a barstool. 

“Didn’t need to know that detail, but thanks anyway.” 

“No problem,” Changmin grins sarcastically, lifting his cup as a sort of toast. “What’s got you so ticked off anyway?”

“Some stupid assignment my professor assigned me.”

“Oh, right. The dance one?” 

“Yeah.” 

Kevin drops his head into his hands, rubbing at his eyes with the base of his palms. Then he raises his head, eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“Wait, how did you know about the assignment?” 

“One of my friends is in that class,” Changmin sets his cup down and leans forward to fold his arms on the granite countertop. “He said he saw you being a dick to Y/N after you found out the two of you were partners for the exhibition.”

“Well, she deserved it,” Kevin grumbles, dropping his hands onto the counter. 

“She always deserves it, according to you.” Changmin kisses his teeth and purses his lips. “Why do you hate her, anyway? She’s a fantastic dancer, she’s super nice, she’s really pretty. She’s got your humor, too, so shouldn’t the two of you, like, get along?”

“Y/N L/N is the spawn of the devil himself, and I’ll die before I get along with her.”

“Okay, I get that, but why?”

Why. Why do you hate her so much? What could she possibly have done to make you drop her in the middle of one of the most important performances of your college career?

“She…” Kevin trails off, his face heating up with embarrassment. “She spilled coffee on me during freshman year.” 

For a few moments, Changmin says nothing and Kevin thinks that the younger man didn’t hear him. Then he speaks, and Kevin wishes he hadn’t said anything at all.

“You…broke a girl’s ankle…and almost ruined her chances at ever dancing again…” Changmin speaks slowly, trying to comprehend the sheer absurdity of what he’d just heard. “Because…because she spilled coffee on you?”

“It wasn’t just that!” Kevin tries to defend. “She got it all over my expensive shirt, the white one you got me for my birthday back in high school. The stain wouldn’t come out, even with bleach, so I had to toss it!”

“You’re the dumbest person I have ever met, Kevin Moon.” Changmin pushes himself up to stand straight, suddenly radiating anger and startling Kevin. “You don’t fucking drop someone and break their ankle because of a goddamn shirt that I bought you from fucking Target.”

“Wait— it was from Target?” Kevin’s jaw drops.

“Yes? Did you think that I bought a wicked expensive plain white button-down shirt?”

“Well, I mean…” Kevin scratches the back of his head, his cheeks heating with embarrassment. 

“You know what?” Changmin pinches the bridge of his nose, biting down on his tongue briefly. “That’s— that’s not the point of this conversation. The point is that you’re a horrible person. You’re a horrible person and if you don’t get your shit together and apologize to that poor girl, I’m gonna get Sangyeon involved.”

“Why— I’m not a horrible person!” Kevin snaps, and Changmin scoffs.

“I truly wonder what she sees in you.” 

For a brief moment, Kevin stops breathing. In that moment, a series of thoughts run through his mind, thoughts that he can’t even begin to process.

Horrible person.

I wonder what she sees in you.

Who is ‘she?’ Why does Changmin know what she thinks of him?

He couldn’t possibly mean you. You hate him, and he hates you. There was no possible way that you cared about him at all, especially after how cruel he’d been to you. 

Right?

One week.

A whole damn week goes by before Kevin texts you to meet him at practice room 304. To be honest, you would have forgotten about the project had your professor not sent out an email the day prior requesting progress videos to be submitted by Monday morning.

“That leaves us, what, four days to draft at least half of the choreography?” You’re sipping at an iced latte, your back against the mirror as Kevin ties the laces of his sneakers. 

“Something like that.” 

He’s on edge. You can hear it in his voice. Something has him tense and you aren’t entirely sure what to do about it, especially since you aren’t the cause (for once). Part of you wants to ask him what’s wrong, but a much larger part of you is screaming to just leave it alone. For a while, you listen to that larger part. You begin working with Kevin to choreograph the song and while it was a bit awkward for you, you find it much easier to work with him than with previous partners you’d had. You ignore the way your skin burns every time he touches you— correcting your posture, helping you with a movement. You ignore how much you enjoy his hands on your body, however faint his touch is. 

You’d admit that Kevin was right about the tension. The air felt stuffy, the walls closing in on you. It was erotic, the choreography Kevin had created. It was fast, and most of the moves you’d gone through required you to have your body close to his. The audience, however, would love this, just like Kevin said. So, no, you weren’t against admitting when Kevin was right, and you would have told him that at the end of practice. 

Really, you would have!

But then Kevin starts pissing you off. 

Small, quiet comments about how ridiculous you look. Insulting how you do a specific move. Nitpicking every step, every breath, every water break. Sweat is dripping down your neck by the time Kevin officially lets you stop for a while. You can see how tired he is, can see his shoulders slumping and his legs wobbling every time he steps. 

“I think we should call it a day.” You call over to him, and he scoffs.

“Of course you would say that.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and you set your water bottle down. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Kevin spins to face you as you say this, his jaw ticking and his hands clenched into fists. 

“You know exactly what it means, Y/N.” He sneers, standing tall when you take long strides over to him.

“No, actually,” you fold your arms over your chest, “I don’t know what it means.” 

“Then I’ll tell you.” His face is now inches from yours, and you back up a bit. Just enough for your face to not be so close to his. “I think you’re losing your touch. I think that you’re sloppy, that you’re arrogant, you can’t admit when you’re wrong.”

Kevin goes on listing these qualities, these faults, and all the while you can only scoff knowing that those are exactly the same things you would use to describe him. 

“I think that—” he continues, but then you’re interrupting him.

“Shut the fuck up, dude.” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, but it’s not as if you’d planned to hold back anyway. “You think you’re any better than me?”

“Yes, I do.” Kevin tilts his head with a mocking smile. “I think I’m a thousand times better than you.”

“You aren’t,” you tell him, and he bites his tongue when you pretend to pout. “Sorry to burst your egotistical, self-absorbed bubble, but you aren’t better than me. You aren’t a better dancer, a better student, or a better person.” 

Kevin’s gaze hardens, and you don’t notice the step he takes toward you. Or, maybe, you do and choose to ignore it. Maybe it’s exactly what you wanted. 

“You’re full of shit.” He breathes out, and you can feel a few strands of his hair brush against your forehead. The corner of your lips lifts into a lopsided smirk.

“And so aren’t you. We aren’t so different now, are we Moon?” 

A few silent moments. Bated breaths of air. The tension between the two of you is something unlike anything you’d felt before. You take a deep breath, ready to step away from him, and then his lips are crushed against yours in a furious kiss. There’s no love or care for one another behind it, just a fatal mixture of hate and lust for one another. A build-up of tension that could only be dispelled by the two of you.

Kevin’s hands are all over your body— squeezing at your hips, running up and down your waist, brushing over the curve of your ass. Your own hands tear at his clothes, stretching the fabric beyond repair, and your nails sink into his skin, breaking it and making him hiss in pain. Your lips mesh together, your teeth clacking together and your tongues pushing together in more of a fight than a dance of dominance. 

You allow yourself to be backed into the mirror, too caught up in how good his lips feel against yours, and you almost forget how much you supposedly hate him. When his lips fall to your neck and your hands scrape their way up his back, you want to let yourself forget about all the horrible things he’s said to you. His teeth sink into the skin of your neck, listening to the way you groan at the sting, and then his tongue is laving over the spot, his lips sucking at the skin at the same time. He does that over and over again, practically covering every inch of your throat with these marks until it looks like a wild animal got to you.

“I hate you,” Kevin lifts his face from your neck, grabbing your face in one hand and squeezing your cheeks together. His eyes are dark with so many emotions that it has your stomach churning. “I hate you so fucking much.”

You try to respond, but he just squeezes your face tighter and grins maliciously at your desperate whine. He kisses you again, uncaring of the fact that your lips are smushed together and your can’t exactly kiss him back. In fact, it’s almost like that’s exactly what he wants. He wants you to struggle against him, wants you desperate and whining. 

“Isn’t this nice?” He teases, his mouth a hairsbreadth from your own. “Finally quiet for me. You’re so much prettier when you aren’t talking back to me. If I let you go, are you gonna stay quiet?” 

He releases you, and you surge forward to connect your lips in another kiss. Your arms are around his neck and his slide down to your legs, haul you up, and press you against the mirror. You wrap your legs around him, clinging tightly and forcing him impossibly closer to you. Something shifts in the way you move against each other, no longer just your lips and hands, but now your hips are grinding together and you’re moaning, and Kevin is breathless against you, throwing his head back and groaning into the open air. You use this as an opportunity to return the favor, marking his neck up in the same way he’d marked yours (if not a bit harsher). 

“Fuck,” Kevin hisses, hands squeezing so hard at your thighs you know they’ll be bruised in the morning. “Always gotta be so harsh, don’t you?”

“You just did the same thing to me,” you snap back, your body shuddering as he continues to rut against you. Your voice is shaking, containing not nearly the amount of malice you’d hoped it would. You sound desperate, you sound like you want him. Which, of course, you do. But you would prefer it if Kevin didn’t know that.

Too late.

His eyes are gleaming as if in a trance and his hands slide to your ass to drag your hips harder against yours. The pleasure continues to build, your eyes rolling back, and your head falling against the mirror. 

“Thought you hated me,” Kevin coos and laughs when you moan out his name. “Poor baby, so desperate for me you can’t even speak.”

“H-Hate you,” you whine. “Hate you s-so much.”

“I’m sure you do, baby.” He hums, watching as your body begins to convulse. He can feel himself getting closer as well, his dick twitching in his sweatpants. “Go ahead, cum all over the man you hate.”

And you do. Your body shudders, back arching off the mirror as you moan and sob against him. Your hips continue to rut into his, and eventually, he drops his head into your chest, laving with his tongue at the skin exposed by your t-shirt. Your hands are in his hair, holding tightly to the strands.

After a moment, you tap at Kevin’s head to get his attention.

And boy, do you get it. 

As if he was hit with a wave of post-nut clarity, he practically drops you to the ground with a crazed look of horror in his eyes. You frown at him, stumbling back to your feet with legs made of jelly.

“You okay?” 

He backs away from you, nearly tripping over his feet. You follow him, but he’s too fast.

“Don’t— don’t fucking come near me.” He snarls, and you flinch. It’s not fear. It’s hurt. You’re not sure why the statement hurt you, but it did and the feeling stabbed into your heart like a golden dagger. “Stay the fuck away from me. This— this was a mistake. You were a mistake.”

It’s become a sort of habit for him, you think, watching as he slams the door to the practice room. You still aren’t quite sure why it hurts, why your throat feels like it’s closing up and your stomach churns with displeasure. You turn to face the mirror, tracing a hand up your neck to touch the marks on your neck and there’s a sad smile plastered on your face.

It can’t be helped when he’s hated you for so long. 

There’s a crack in your heart, and you wonder if it’ll be fixed just like the crack in your bone from the last time he hurt you.

Kevin slams the door of his car so harshly he almost fears he broke it. The engine rumbles to life, and tires screech against the ground as he speeds out of the parking lot and gets far, far away from you. 

His hands are shaking, so unsteady that he’s almost afraid he’ll get into an accident. His heart is pounding. Adrenaline, maybe. Fear is more likely. Fear of what he’d just done, what he could have done. It terrifies him, the rush of emotions he’d felt when you looked at him. 

It didn’t make sense to him. You were supposed to hate him, to want him dead. Why did you look at him like that? Like he hung the stars in the sky and painted the moon just for you. Why. Why. You ruined everything. 

A choked sob forces its way up his throat, and he covers his mouth with the back of his hand. 

He doesn’t understand it. Why is he feeling so many emotions from this? He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be feeling this…this…

Kevin doesn’t even understand the emotion he’s feeling, so he decides he won’t bother. 

He’ll ignore you, avoiding you as best he possibly could. You’ll practice alone, that way he won’t have to speak with you. 

Avoid, ignore, hate. Avoid, ignore, hate. 

That was the perfect solution.

Avoid you and the inevitable questions you’ll have.

Ignore you and the looks you’ll send him. The confusion, the anger.

Hate you. Hate the way you make him feel, the way you make him want you.

Hate you.

Hate you 

Love you.

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#blackoutorbackout🍻 #itsbeeble #reese's works 📩 #reese's moots 🩵 #fawn~ 🧼 #ally~ ⛄️ #kpop #kpop imagines #the boyz #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #the boyz smut #kevin moon #kevin moon imagines #the boyz imagines #kevin moon smut #kevin moon angst #kevin moon fluff

[itsbeeble]

Say Don't Go

SUMMARY: For too long you had been waiting for Vernon. For too long you had let these feelings fester. Now all you can do is wait and beg for him to not let you leave.

GENRE: Angst

PAIRING: Vernon Chwe x afab!reader

WC: 1.6k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOGGED

WARNINGS: hurt no comfort, Vernon is an asshole, toxic relationship, implied friends with benefits, mentions of blood/knives but no one actually gets hurt it's just a metaphor, people being nosy at restaurants, a waitress is extra nosy, swearing, brief mentions of alcohol, friends to fwb to ???, ending is open-ended

A/N: I'm planning on finishing this series asap because good god I've been working on it for TOO LONG. Hopefully I'll be able to finish by mid-January jghisrghuis. Also this is NOT edited so i apologize for any mistakes.

Sometimes you wonder where it all went wrong, when you and Vernon went from something to nothing in his eyes.

Even as you lay in his arms now, you know that he would rather be anywhere else but with you in your living room. There’s a coldness in his hand as it brushes your arm, a discomfort in the smile he sends you at every comment you make about the film on your TV screen. Your fingers play with a loose string on his t-shirt and you exhale quietly, letting your body deflate against him. 

It had been months now since you and Vernon started messing around. You weren’t dating, no, Vernon hated the idea of being exclusive with someone while he was so young. This was…this was something else. You knew he slept with other people, knew that every night he found someone knew but on the weekends he crawled back to you. He made you think he loved you. You wonder if he knew that you’d only ever slept with him. That he was your first everything, and that it broke your heart every time he left you.

“You’re thinking.” And then he does this. He knows you so well it scares you. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” Vernon lifts his head off the arm of the couch, straining to look at where you lay on his chest. 

“You’re lying to me now?” A crooked smile, playful yet curious, is flashed in your direction. Your stomach churns uncomfortably, knowing that despite him being able to read you so well, you knew nothing of what he was thinking. Not anymore, at least. 

“Why would I lie to you?” Your eyes are drooping, and you nuzzle deeper into his chest. His hand slowly trails up your arm and rests on your head.

“Why wouldn’t you?” His voice sounds faint. 

“Because I love you.” 

He says nothing, and you don’t expect him to. Not anymore. In the past, before acceptance had hit you, maybe you would’ve hoped he would. Maybe you would’ve begged him to say it back, and maybe he would’ve. He would’ve let you believe that he loved you, but you know he doesn’t. 

You should’ve known better than to believe that Vernon would show up. You should’ve known better than to convince yourself that he wouldn’t forget you at the restaurant, that he wouldn’t choose someone else over you. 

Now, three hours later, you’re finishing up another drink, picking at the dessert you’d treated yourself to after the meal. You weren’t going to let your own naivety ruin your night, even if the tears welling in your eyes have been threatening to spill over like a waterfall. You’re glad you’d chosen a booth for yourself, facing away from the door so you don’t get your hopes up every time it opens. 

The knife in your heart has been twisted far too many times, the blood spilling down your chest for all to see. You were tired of it, so why were still holding out hope for him?

Someone sinks into the booth across from you, out of breath and leaning his head back for a few moments. 

“Shit, traffic was bad.” Vernon gasps out. A lie. “And— and then the parking. Shit, the parking was awful.” Why is he lying?

“Stop.” Vernon stares at you, his lips still parted as he catches his breath. “Stop lying to me, please. For once.” 

His lips draw into a thin line, and he adjusts his position to sit straighter. It almost hurts to see him so dressed up for you, but then you see the lipstick on his collar and your anger comes back. 

The waitress returns with your check, shooting Vernon a dirty look. She’d pieced together the story on her own, not that it was hard to figure out. A heartbroken girl, alone in a booth for two hours. Who wouldn’t be able to figure out what happened?

The two of you sit silently in the booth as you fill out your bill, sliding your card into the book and placing it near the edge of the table. 

“You’re mad at me.” Vernon concludes, and you scoff.

“Yeah, sure.” You cross your arms, and Vernon bites on his tongue. 

“Why— why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” He tries to keep his voice down, his hands tightening into fists. Your eyes scan him, scan his tense posture and the muscles ticking in his jaw. 

“I feel like it should be obvious, no?” The ice in your glass of water has melted and you take a small sip, letting the cold liquid slide down your throat slowly. 

“Well, I’m sorry to say this, but it’s not.” You sniff, whether in distaste or to hold back your tears you can’t tell. “Sometimes you have to actually tell people what you want.”

“I have, Vernon.” You hiss and smile at the waitress when she grabs the check again. “I have voiced everything to you time and time again, and yet you seem to ignore it. It’s like you don’t care about me— and I’m not talking about our fucking sex life.”

He opens his mouth to talk, but you keep going. 

“Did you forget that we were friends before this?” You ask him, and for a moment he thinks it’s rhetoric. When you don’t continue speaking, he stutters out a response.

“I— no, I didn’t, but Y/N—”

“If you didn’t forget then why do you act like this?” Your eyebrows are furrowed, your lips pursed. “All— All I ever asked of you is to prioritize our friendship over anything else. That— that if you thought things were getting past the point of no return, then we’d break it off. But you didn’t, and it’s like you couldn’t give less of a damn about me anymore. Why, Vernon? Why the fuck didn’t you break it off when you figured out I was falling in love with you?”

It’s like a bucket of ice-cold water has been tossed over him, the heat from running to meet you being entirely replaced with a cold sweat. He knew, of course. How could he not have known when you made it so obvious?

“You— you’re blaming me for this?” He asks. “You’re the one who agreed to be in this relationship— no, you’re the one who brought it up in the first place!”

“Because I liked you!” The tables around you are turning their heads, and you lower your voice. “I knew what I was getting into when you first kissed me at that fucking holiday party at Seungcheol’s, but it’s your fault that it got to this point. It’s your fault for stringing me along even though you knew the whole fucking time.” 

Your heart is pounding, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and your head feels like it’s going to explode at any moment. 

“So— so this is it then?” Vernon sinks back against the uncomfortable booth. “You’re throwing away six years of friendship because— because what? You couldn’t control your fucking feelings? Well, I’m sorry but I’m not gonna be part of your fucking pity party.” You hear a gasp from the booth behind you, as well as hushed whispers, and suddenly all your anger is replaced by embarrassment. 

“I— I can’t believe you.” You whisper, staring at him with wide eyes. “I— why would you say that?” 

Vernon’s mind races, thoughts of regret and fear pushing forward as he watches you grab your purse. 

“Y/N—” he starts to stand but you raise your hand to stop him. His hands are on the table, the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground. 

“I…I loved you, Vernon.” You try to control your breathing, but it feels impossible with the rush of emotions hitting you. “I’m sorry that I meant nothing to you, but do not blame this shit on me.”

He watches you walk away, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Stunned is not quite the word for what he’s feeling at the moment. Confused? No…no he’s not confused. Vernon knows exactly why this happened, and knows that the only person to blame is himself. 

You hesitate at the door, your hand reaching for the handle slowly as if waiting for something. He wonders if you’re waiting for him to say something, to chase you and tell you not to leave. 

He doesn’t, and he watches you leave the restaurant and shudder under the frigid weather of mid-December. 

Your waitress clears her throat, that same dirty look on her face.

“She forgot her card.” She explains, thrusting it back into his hand. “Make sure it gets back to her.” 

“I…I uh—”

“I get that you’re a stupid bitch,” she whispers harshly to him, and his head jerks back in shock. “But that girl waited two and a half fucking hours for you. If you give even the tiniest shit about her, you’ll run out the door right now and fix it.” 

Vernon’s mouth is hanging open as the waitress walks away to her next table, a fake grin plastered onto her face. 

You waited for him.

You waited for him, knowing that he wasn’t going to come, and now he’s fucked everything up beyond repair.

His feet are moving before his mind does.

The bell above his head chimes and his breath is knocked out of him once again when he takes his first gulp of cold air. 

Don’t go. Please, please don’t go.

Don’t leave me.

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#itsbeeble #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop angst #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #vernon chwe #vernon chwe imagines #vernon chwe angst #vernon chwe x reader #seventeen vernon #reese's moots 🩵 #fawn~ 🧼 #ally~ ⛄️ #brie~ 🫧 #reese's works 📩

[itsbeeble]

JUST LOGGED ON AND SAW I HIT 500???? yall this is insane actually. Never in my LIFE did I think that so many people would read my fics let alone wanna stick around for the ride 😭😭😭 and to think this all started with one silly goofy Eric fic omg

Thank you all so much!! I love each and every one of you 🥰🥰 Much love, kiss kiss

#itsbeeble #reese's pieces 🗞️ #reese's chats ✏️ #reese's milestones: 500 🎉 #reese's moots 🩵 #brie~ 🫧 #fawn~ 🧼 #izzy~ 🎀 #ally~ ⛄️ #moni~ 🌻 #beam~ ⚡️ #sona~ 🍡 #bar~ 🍵 #sana~ 🍊 #dora~ 🧸

[itsbeeble]

your moots as the eras tour albums!!

JUST SAW THIS AND OH MY GOD IM SO READY

okay first off we have my dearest pookie fawn @juyeonszn as Evermore. All the songs i've listened to radiate mid-fall vibes just like you. you radiate this like...energy where i just can't help but laugh with you no matter what mood you had been in before talking. ily pookie 🩵

brie @captain-brie would be Lover I think. You're so happy and funny and supportive and that's kinda the vibe i get from Lover. I can't imagine what i would do if you weren't there to deal with my panicking over all of my fics and personal works. 🩵

ally @winterchimez would absolutely be Folklore. Just like your user says, you give off heavy winter vibes and so does Folklore for me. You're very calm, but you always have energy (even if ur awake at 2am 😒) and are open to talking all the time. 🩵

my dear moni @zzoguri is Red I think. I don't know how to explain it but every song on that album is just so...you. Specifically you give very much The Very First Night vibes. again idk why but yeah 🩵

beam @sungbeam even though we really don't talk (I WANT TO THO HSHSHEHD) you give very much Speak Now. You're this perfect mix of exciting yet reading your works and looking at you interact with ur own moots and anons, i feel comforted. Edit: I say this knowing i've cried to a number of ur works🩵

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK I LOVED DOING THIS

#itsbeeble #reese's chats ✏️ #reese’s pieces 🗞️ #reese’s moots 🩵 #ally~ ⛄️ #fawn~ 🧼 #brie~ 🫧 #moni~ 🌻 #beam~ ⚡️

[itsbeeble]

I NEED ONE OF MY MOOTS TO BE AWAKE THIS IS SO IMPORTANT

#itsbeeble #reese's moots 🩵 #fawn~ 🧼 #ally~ ⛄️ #brie~ 🫧 #beam~ ⚡️ #moni~ 🌻 #bar~ 🍵 #sona~ 🍡 #dora~ 🧸 #sana~ 🍊 #i need literally none of you to ask about the emojis #i can't explain ANYTHING #BUT CAN SOMEONE PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS WAKE UP #izzy~ 🎀 #why tf did izzy's tag disappear?? #pookie im sorry i'll do better 💔💔💔