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#kpop drabbles
loserlvrss · 2 days
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꒰ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ꒱ 이찬영
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summary : you and anton had a lot of memories attached to seemingly meaningless songs
genre : fluff, anton x afab!reader, drabble, established relationship tws : pet names, kiss author notes : i love my man (this is not proofread at all) word count : 0.7k
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the atmosphere was dim, romantic even, as the music wafted through the air. you reminisced about the song, imagining your boyfriends hands on your waist swaying you gently. you imagined the love-sick look in his eyes as he finally leaned in, kissing you for the first time.
"are you okay? do you not like this song? i can put on —"
"no!" you blurted, features pink. you further approached him, laptop set against his legs as he scrolled with two fingers on the touchpad. "it's the song you first kissed me to, anton, i love this song."
he laughed quietly, "do you remember this one then?" he asked, looking up at your standing position.
you heard the familiar intro, laughing out as the memories started flashing behind your eyelids; a rainy night when you and anton had decided to try baking together — the spoiler was that it didn't go well, and you ended up walking to the nearby convenience store for ice cream.
you pointed an accusing finger, "if you hadn't distracted me, it wouldn't have burnt!"
he gave you his signature shy expression, which contradicted his bold words, "you're easy to distract though, y/n."
your eyes narrowed, you hummed in disbelief, remembering a couple specific memories where anton was more than distracted by you, "i won't say what just came to mind, baby."
he started playing another song, one that happen to be playing when those memories occurred. you couldn't help the laugh that escaped your lips; a laugh that was absentmindedly directed at your boyfriend. however, he knew it just as well, too.
anton decided he had enough of your mocking, grabbing your wrist and pulling you down onto the couch next to him. contrary to his desire, you were still giggling.
you pointed at the screen again, "this one always reminds me of you and the boys."
he smiled, and you rested your head against his broad shoulder, "this one reminds me of you, i always have to add it to my playlists."
you lifted your head silently, staring at his side-profile. your lips pouted, and you don't know why you wanted to start crying.
his face turned to you, lips only inches apart, "what?"
"that's the cutest thing I've ever heard."
"it was my most played last year." he admitted.
you felt your heart pound against its confines, looking into the eyes that always gave you comfort. you knew anton owned all of you; your heart was his, and his yours. you loved him more than the earth itself. more than life itself. you found it cliche at first, how you thought you couldn't live without him, however, it was true. you didn't know what you'd do without him. he was your peace of mind. your safe place. your home. the person you knew was always on your side. and all the memories attached to mediocre songs only confirmed it.
sweetly, you pressed your lips to his, letting the feeling linger. your breathing was in synch. your heart beat was in synch. your love for one another was in synch. you never had to give each other reassurance anymore because nothing was up for debate. he was your perfect person, and there's no one else you'd rather spend your time with.
anton pulled back, whispering so melodically against the music in the air, "i love you, y/n."
and another memory attached itself to a song that meant nothing to anyone else, but everything to you.
you pecked his lips quickly, a smile plastering your features — skin still tinted pink from everything.
"i know," you replied, looking down at the screen and choosing a different song, one he could attach to you. one that you could deem yours. one that you've always known had a special place in your heart. "i love you, more."
he felt his heart start beating, palms sweating, and skin tinting to match your shade. he'd never heard those words from you despite knowing they were true.
he switched the song, "not possible, baby." he joked, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers with his, and you smiled, squeezing it comfortably.
eventually, your head made its way back onto his shoulder, and throughout the rest of the night you both took turns picking songs that had memories attached to them, giggling and relishing in the tenderness that a seemingly simple thing could bring you.
if this was the little life people were talking about, maybe you didn’t mind it after all.
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reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!
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yujinsmom · 1 day
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ZB1 feeling jealous and upset after knowing that someone older / senior liking reader! Maybe reader can make it up to them!!!
a/n: i didn’t want to make the age the most important point in all convos, hope u still like it tho! thanks for the req <3
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rai-chuuuu · 2 days
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helloo can i request Boyfriend Things with Nct127 members<3 thanks
╰┈➤ nct (127) boyfriend things !
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boyfriend things... (0.7k words)
pairing ; every member x gn!reader
warnings ; I dont even know????
TO THE PERSON THAT REQUESTED JAEHYUN AND FOOTBALL PLAYING Y/N, I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. I'M NOT TRYING TO AVOID THE REQUEST BUT I'M SO STUMPED ABOUT IT 😭
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Taeyong - If there’s one thing you should know about Taeyong, it’s that he tries to spend tons of time with you. Even if his schedule is almost full, he gives his best effort. After long days, expect to do some stuff like play games, have a movie marathon, or even go shopping. When it comes to little things, it depends on the weather. When it’s sunny outside, Taeyong will take you out to enjoy the sun and how it feels. On the contrary, he loves staying inside and napping with you when it’s raining or snowing.
Taeil - Taeil is the kind of boyfriend who sends you a song and says it reminds him of you. On some days, you can even expect a whole playlist that you adore. He keeps almost everything you give him, no matter the size or the condition it’s in. If you gave him a birthday gift years ago, he’ll more than likely still have it well taken care of. He’ll remember things you’ve said, which is also perfect when it comes to getting gifts for you, no matter the occasion. 
Johnny - Despite Johnny helping almost everyone he knows, he helps you out the most. His aid ranges from assistance with getting something to kind words and affirmations. It comes from a state of care. He makes sure to take care of you and treats you like a prized possession. No matter how sweet that is, there’s a downside. When going out to an amusement park, Johnny always drags you along on drop-off rides. Whether or not you’re scared of heights, it’s something you should prepare for.
Yuta - Something sweet Yuta does is rest on you. Because he doesn’t use a pillow, there are times when he prefers lying on you for comfort reasons. It’s extremely cute, but he always manages to wake you up since he wakes up earlier. You should always expect to be out a ton on off days, mainly due to disliking staying inside. You always have fun with Yuta, so that’s what really matters. 
Doyoung - Similarly to Taeil, Doyoung has a good memory, so he knows exactly what to get you every single time. If you said you enjoyed a certain dish or outfit, it’s something that he’ll give you, even if it’s years later. It’s extremely impressive and always such a surprise to you. On a good day, you’ll catch Doyoung in the kitchen baking a treat for the both of you. He has to put that baking talent somewhere, you know. 
Jaehyun - Jaehyun enjoys taking care of you more than—almost—anything. It doesn't really matter what he does in particular, but it’s always nice to be treated nicely. Honestly, the only bad thing about Jaehyun is that he’d brag about a lot of things, although they're not even that serious. It’s really him trying to show off to impress you, which is pretty sweet. Whenever this happens, he seems to get a bit embarrassed after it. You can always tell when his ears get red.
Jungwoo - He gets you all kinds of Snoopy-related items solely to remind you of him. Jungwoo has given you accessories, kitchen sets, and so much more that is just... Snoopy. You don’t know if he mainly does this to you or if it’s normal, but there’s not much of a complaint. Jungwoo would try to scare you with his imitation skills, which work a lot more than they really should. Sometimes you know it’s him doing it, but it’s the fact that you don't expect it that gets to you.
Mark - For someone who mainly takes out the trash and helps with laundry when it comes to the group, Mark is weirdly insistent on helping you with chores. You could be doing the dishes, and he’ll ask if you need help, but he will still do them if you say no. The only “bad” thing he would do is offer to take you out to get something you want, then take you to a totally different spot to eat his favorite food with him. It’s not the worst, but it is a bit odd.
Haechan - Haechan likes to keep the place clean, which is always handy when you don’t actually feel like doing anything. He likes to tidy up with music, which is always a nice touch. There’s just something about him that makes me want to believe he would torture you in the weirdest ways, like making you watch his dancing without music, which is oddly uncomfortable. There isn’t a reason for this. It just happens. Haechan would probably eat your food but say that you “just forgot you already ate it” to get away with it.
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flwrkisses · 4 months
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boyfriend! ni-ki.
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HAPPY (late) RIKI DAAAAY!! wishing the happiest and sweetest birthday to our lovely riki. celebrating by writing all my lovely ni-ki stans a little headcannon. enjoy!
genre: fluff. established relationship. idol! x reader. headcannon.
warning: some mentions of arguments and skin ship like kissing and cuddling.
❀˖° heeseung jay jake sunghoon sunoo jungwon ni-ki ..
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- you and riki had been introduced to eachother by mutual friends. he for some reason found himself always wanting to impress you each time he saw you. thats how he found out he liked you.
- the weird feeling he would get in his chest when he saw you was actually just the butterflies. even if he didn't want to admit it. so, one day after talking to jake for a really long time about his feelings he finally got the confidence to tell you how he felt.
- he honestly was ready for rejection so when you told him you were also interested in him, took him off guard. he probably would need a moment to register what exactly to do next. but from that day on you guys just assumed you were dating without any proper question. you both admitted feelings for each other.. so you guys just assumed thats how relationships start.
- the first date would probably be to a movie in the park or maybe a shopping run that turned into a cafe and boba date on accident.
- riki is usually very private about his relationships.. however, if someone gets on his nerves he plays the "at least im actually dating someone!" card to rub in their face that he managed to find someone who loves and cares about him.
- he's a mean boyfriend, meaning that he will tease you, poke fun at you and play pranks on you because thats how he shows his love. however, you must retaliate in return if not its not fun.
- sometimes when you're walking down the street while holding hands he purposefully trips you and chuckles when you stumble only for you to try and trip him back. this usually leads to you guys almost tackling eachother in the middle of the sidewalk.
- he also finds it funny when he holds his hand out against your head to stop you from getting closer to him. he's tall and has long arms so he thinks its funny but after a while he gives in and pulls you close.
- you know he loves to mess around and tease you however, no matter how much he playfully bullies you he's actually very protective of you. lots of his jokes come from a place of love. however, if someone else were to make fun of you the way he did he couldn't find it funny at all.
- despite how playful he is. he would die for your touch. he loves melting into your arms and holding you. believe it or not he's a lot clinger than you'd imagine.
- in private he's putty in your hands but around his hyungs or anyone else he tries to play it cool.
- he draws you things on any serface if you give him enough time and a writing utensil. they're usually cute drawings of a couple that he says are the two of you. he leaves these little doodles on your shopping lists, notebooks, sticky notes, white boards.
- when you visit him while he's at practice he gets so excited because he loves seeing you when he's in his element. he shows off just for you and asks you if you thought he looked cool while dancing.
- riki finds your height difference to be extremely cute. he loves pointing out how short you are compared to him. he loves feeling tall around you. please ask him to get things off the top shelf.
- he's going to ask to borrow your hair tie, and never give it back so he can wear it around his wrist or keep it on his nightstand as evidence he's with someone.
- something you noticed is that he'd "accidentally" leave his shirts or hoodies at your place in hopes that you'd wear it. and when you do he melts a little inside.
- when shopping he usually likes to take you with him so you can tell him what you think about clothes. he wont buy something you don't like. if you're not with him expect pictures of clothes on him or facetime calls for your opinion.
- riki loves hearing your voice so even when he's sleepy from a long day working, he'll call you just to hear you talk about your day. his deep raspy voice usually just humming along to your words to let you know he's listening.
- most times he ends up falling asleep with you on call, regardless of if it's a video chat or regular phone call. he feels comfortable enough to do that with you so it's sweet. plus he works so hard you can't possibly be upset.
- he gets a lot if his dating and relationship advice from jake because in his eyes he thinks he's the most romantic. so most big romantic gestures from riki is usually something jake told him to do for you.
- pda is a big no for him, maybe simple hand holding or a quick hug would be okay. but he gets way too shy to actually kiss you or be overly touchy with you in public.
-but, he does like to see you wearing his clothes or matching shoes with him. its a little cheesy but he can't get enough of it. it's a little nod that you belong to each other.
- on his phone your contact would be something like "my loser." or "nerd." something not too romantic incase someone takes his phone and makes fun of him for having such a lovey dovey name for you.
- his home screen is a picture of you though. you're not looking at the camera and it's kinda blurry but he knows it's you and he loves looking at the candid pictures he's taken of you. loves it so much that it makes one of them his hime screen.
- riki loves thrill especially thrill rides so even if you don't like them he would drag you to ride rollercoasters or fast rides with him.
- he does love to kiss you though. after the first kiss he was addicted and is always looking forward the next kiss. however he would die inside if anyone every caught you both kissing.
- arguments are something unavoidable. especially when riki can be a little bit of a hot-head about things and prideful. he kinda sucks at apologizing or talking things out so space from each other usually helps you both cool down.
- after a couple days you both realize how much you miss each other and end up forgetting why you were upset with each other in the first place.
- a fault in him is saying yes to anything you want to do or ask for. sometimes he doesn't realize what exactly he's agreeing to. this has gotten him into a lot of very interesting situations with you. like ending up in the salon next to you getting his nails and toes done, or taste testing weird herbal teas, or even getting his hair dyed to slightly match yours.
- after a long day, you both just melt into the sofa and scroll on your phones for hours. just watching tiktoks or something similar. occasionally reaching over to show each other something funny.
- if you're not doing your weekly tiktok scroll with him on the sofa, you're probably cuddling and watching an anime. you guys take turns picking which one to watch. its also a nice way to spend time together since he loves to order food and make a date night out of it.
- when going out with you to a place where theres music and dancing involved. regardless on if you can or can't dance he would pull you to dance floor to dance with him. a big smile on his face as he watches you move and enjoy yourself.
- he is so supportive of you no matter what. he would promote your projects you choose to do regardless of what it is. he always has your back, and encourages you to do what you love.
- just expect impromptu dance parties while listening to music. you guys could be chilling and having music in the background when he pulls you up and just playfully dances with you.
- when watching a romance movie and they do something cool, like kiss under stars, or set up a romantic camp site, or something of that nature he can't help but look at you and say "lets do that."
- he would never tell you, but praise goes such a long way with him. he wants to hear that he's doing well and that you're proud of him. so when you vocalize it he loves it.
- in the beginning of the relationship he says things like. "saying 'i love you' is so cheesy." only to be the one who says it over and over later in your relationship. when you wake up, when you part ways for the day, when you go to bed. all the time.
- riki would also have a polaroid of you on the back of his clear phone case because he thinks it's cute. and regardless of how old the photo is he wont change it.
- overall, riki's a sweet but, mischievous type boyfriend. he lives and breathes for you and wont let you forget it with how much he playfully annoys you. there is nothing he wont do to make you happy or to hear your laugh that he loves so much.
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©flwrkisses ; please do not copy, translate, repost and/or reuse my work without my permission. (2023)
masterlist. — requests are open!
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starvity · 7 months
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— ☆ sides zb1 only show when they’re with you
gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)
genre: fluff, drabble // warnings: insecurities, jealousy, a bit angsty for gyuv and yujin
author’s note: this was such an interesting request and i had so much fun thinking about what to put for each member!! (★ω★)/ [requested♡]
ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong - his funny side
okay i’m not saying jiwoong isn’t funny usually but he would be the FUNNIEST when he’s with you. he's most of the time someone kind of serious and reserved in public settings but then he would suddenly whisper a funny comment (that only you heard) and you would have to fight internally to not burst out laughing. some other time, you’re just getting ready to sleep, already cuddled up in the blanket while waiting for jiwoong, when his silly side would appear. like he would be brushing his teeth then he would start running around and doing some handstands on you idk???? he’s just a silly guy
ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao - his protective side
hao loves himself a good princess treatment. he would always use his puppy eyes to get whatever he wants from you and you both know it, that you can never win. and that dynamic works for your relationship!! but then sometimes you appear in front of hao looking a bit more tired, stressed, or sick than usual and it’s like something switches in his brain. he will treat you like absolute royalty, that being by doing the chores, giving you a massage, cooking for you, cuddling with you? ANYTHING YOU WANT!!! that always happens when you’re away from him too, walking home or coming back late from a party. he will come pick you up whenever he can or at least ask you to facetime him.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin - his jealous side
i am certain that not a single person on this planet can dislike this man. he is loved by everyone and everyone knows him. when you two go out on a date he would usually be the one to meet like 5 of his friends on the way. but today it was your turn to randomly meet one of your old high school friends in a store. naturally, they come to hug you and keep an arm around your waist while you two catch up on each other’s life. suddenly, you feel hanbin’s arm slide around your shoulders as he pulls you closer. "i’m their boyfriend, by the way." he says, with a smirk on his face and his eyes turning dark.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew - his insecure side
matthew is your biggest fan. he will always hype you up, telling you that you’re the most beautiful and amazing person he’s ever met. he will brag about you to his friends and talk about you to his family all the time. but when you do the same for him, he immediately gets shy, saying that it isn’t true and that you’re doing too much. you frown, repeating that he’s just perfect and he shakes his head again. you cup his jaw with your hands to make him look at you. "you.are.amazing.matt." you repeat, kissing his lips between every word. he lowers his gaze, a pinkish color settling on his cheeks "you really think so?"
ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae - his calm side
dating taerae can be a bit exhausting sometimes (especially if you’re introverted) because this man YELLS. like it’s not even that he does it on purpose most of the time, he just has a really prominent voice. he would be playing video games online with his friends and he wouldn’t even hear how loud he is screaming because of his headphones. you throw a pillow at him, monitoring a "silence" motion with your index finger as you were trying to take a nap. after mouthing a sorry, taerae delicately turns off his computer, puts his headphones aside and takes his guitar before sitting next to you on the bed. he strokes your hair, apologising with now the calmest voice before he starts singing you to sleep with his sweet voice.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky - his attentive side
you don't even try to figure out what's on ricky's mind sometimes. he would start talking about some random subject, then starts talking about another, then another... he himself would be distracted with his own words when he's talking to you that he would need to get quiet, blink a few times and let out a "what?" before laughing and trying to focus again. he can be easily distracted but he is also really observant, especially around you. one day he started talking about all the little habits you have that he finds endearing and you realised that you weren't even aware that you had half of these.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin - his serious side
one thing about gyuvin is that he's always going to make fun of people. and you being his partner gets the WORST treatment. he was on his phone when he suddenly laughs, shoving it in your face. you were horrified when you saw the ugliest picture of you sleeping and started begging him to delete it. he continues laughing as you try to snatch the device out of his hands but, again, he was too tall. without even you knowing, tears roll down your cheeks and the expression on gyuvin's face completely changes. he takes you in his arms, stroking you back and apologising over and over again. later in the evening, you two had a deep conversation and he asks to set boundaries because he never wants to hurt you ever again. (he won't stop making fun of you though, as far as you allow him <3)
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook - his cute side
mister giant baby thinks that his role is to protect you no matter what. he thinks he always need to be tough, and that you're probably just dating him to open jars and carry heavy stuff for you??? "can i be the big spoon today?" you ask, opening your arms for gunwook who had just showered after coming back from practice. he looks at you confused, at first disapproving because blah blah he's the big boy here before sighing and placing his head on your chest. you suddenly see his eyes soften at the sudden contact as you pull him closer. gunwook hums contently and closes his eyes. "not so bad , after all?" you chuckle while stroking his cheek with your thumb. "shut up~" he whines in a cute voice, hiding his face in your neck.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin - his emotional side
you know that it is not easy to read yujin like an open book. and since he's also pretty new to the whole relationship thing, he finds it quite hard to express his emotions, especially around you. you were studying in yujin's room while he was practicing his vocals in the bathroom (the acoustic is good, apparently). and you were so focused on studying for your next test that you didn't hear nor see the door open a minute ago. "can i talk to you?" yujin's voice startles you from across the room and you gulp nervously, inviting him to sit next to you. he suddenly leans his head on your shoulder and your hand naturally comes up to pet his head. "i feel like i haven't been doing really good lately, with my vocals and dancing... and like i don't know if i'm even good enough..." you listen attentively to his worries and reassures him that he's doing great and that you're proud of him. (might have teared up a little).
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jl-micasea-fics · 9 months
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Dressing Down | hhj
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❝𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?❞
↳ A shopping trip with the gloriously attractive, delightfully oblivious man you've lusted after since time began? During a particularly lengthy dry spell? Definitely not a recipe for disaster.
↳ Hyunjin x female reader
↳ 5.8k
↳ Best friends to lovers, romance, mutual pining, angst and sexual tension with a happy ending, eventual smut
! Explicit content, adult themes throughout, suitable for 18+ readers only !
「© July 2020, rewritten July 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」
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Twelve sharp, he’d said.
Be on time, he’d said.
Do not miss your alarm, he’d said.
And so it is that Hwang Hyunjin, ever a paragon of hypocrisy, is running late. You’d be surprised if it wasn’t so utterly on brand.
The last message you sent him says something towards your growing impatience:
<< where the fuck are you hwang
Feeling (and looking) not unlike a spare dick at a wedding, you loiter outside the mall entrance, glancing up and down the busy street for any sign of the honey-blonde head you fully intend to forcefully remove from the shoulders. It’s warm today—nicely sunny, the sky is a pleasant powdery blue—which posed good enough reason to dig out the summer wear from the deepest recesses of your wardrobe set for autumn. Days like this, you rather enjoy; waking up to unexpected warmth, the universal lifting of moods that, in your case, at least lasted until your best friend soured it with his tardiness.
Perhaps it wouldn’t irritate so much if he hadn’t pressed so hard against your insistence on picking him up in favour of driving himself, yet the reasons for that were plain enough: he’s just purchased a brand-new BMW convertible, billiard red and as garish as garish comes. Quite how a second-year college students affords such an expense continues to elude you, but where Hyunjin is concerned, flamboyance is par for the course.
Just as you’re about to send a second (far more graphic) threatening text, the distant growling of the engine you’ve been conditioned to loathe carries from down the street. The glaring red chassis approaches, catching sharp angles of sunlight. You shrink into yourself, more so embarrassed by the thump of the obnoxious EDM track that blares from the thing unfiltered. When he pulls up curb side, all Ray-Bans, white grin and windswept blonde tresses, you hurry over, leaning through the drawn down window.
“Do you have any idea how much of a wanker you look right now?”
He kills the ignition, the gratuitous music dying out. Passers-by double take, their faces awed. You wonder which is doing it; the car or the man. Hyunjin pouts, Ray-Bans sliding down his nose.
“Also, you are so fucking late,” you hiss. “I can’t believe you.”
Unable to bear being the centre of attention any longer, you about-face and march towards the mall, through throngs of people. You hear the abrupt slamming of a car door, the electronic beep of its locks, rushed footsteps that catch up just as you make it to the revolving entrance.
“Are you, like, seriously mad?” He grabs your shoulder.
“Yes! You were the one that went on so hard about being on time, blah, blah fucking blah, yet I was the one left waiting like a tool. Then you have the nerve to make an entrance like that?” you gesture vaguely towards the BMW. “It’s so—”
“Man, I’m sorry,” he pouts again, now holding both your shoulders. “I didn’t think I was that late.”
You roll your eyes, shrugging out of his grip, stepping into the revolving glass segment that he quickly hops in with you. He guides your paced steps by hands on your shoulders—again—and once out of the spinning death-trap, slips his arms down and around your waist from behind, pulling you against him.
“Don’t be mad,” he coos, “I’m super sorry. I’m the sorriest I’ve ever been—”
You struggle half-heartedly. “Release me, demon.”
“I’ll make it up to you?” he speaks into your neck, squeezes you tightly, and despite yourself, you laugh (squeal)? Staying angry with Hyunjin is about as feasible as ice cream withstanding the sun.
“Please, kitten?”
And your struggle ceases momentarily; in all the years you’ve known him, he’s never addressed you like that. Something base and wanting throbs in your chest, and while it’s far from the first time you’ve experienced such a sensation in his company, it is the first time it’s caught you off guard. He unwinds himself from around you; you step away quickly, glad of the space.
“Fine,” you clear your throat. “You’re forgiven.”
Hyunjin grins, smug with his victory. “Knew you couldn’t stay mad.”
“Shut up.”
You start walking; he falls into pace with you. The mall is as busy as one expects it should be, and while you definitely have an objective for today, you’re not averse to looking around. Anonymous jazz plays quietly over the mall speakers, shoppers go about their business in groups or alone, the bravest of them with kids in pushchairs or toddlers on leads. Teens outmanoeuvre the elderly when there’s a crowd jam—usually nearest the shop fronts—and the scent of commercialism hits in targeted waves: perfume at the beauty outlet, fresh cookies at the bakery, soap at the hipster store.
Your name is called as Hyunjin nudges you. “I, uh... didn’t actually look like a wanker back there, did I?”
“Kind of.”
He grimaces. “Wasn’t what I was going for.”
You scoff into your palm. “Should put that on a bumper sticker: ‘this car makes me look like a wanker, sorry.’”
“Oh yeah, you’d love that, huh?” he laughs.
“It’d be a marked improvement.”
He glares at you, the glint of mischief in his dark eyes. The nature of your relationship never up for debate when you’re with him like this; easily, comfortably. Whatever struggles come from taking in the angular planes of his stunning face are yours alone.
“Jerk,” he deadpans.
You poke your tongue out at him. “Bitch.”
***
“Hyunjin!”
You can only reason that clothing shops make their chairs so goddamn uncomfortable by deliberate design: buy something and get the fuck out, is the key takeaway. Sat on the horrid plastic thing and calling Hyunjin’s name into the men’s dressing room, you wonder if he’s ignoring you on purpose.
Taking mercy on your posture and rising, you call to him again. “Are you done or did you find Narnia?”
Inside the dressing room is a long row of cubicles draped by dark velvet privacy curtains. Chic spotlights beam down from the ceiling, leaving white spots in your eyes when you leave them focused for too long. You rub them when just that happens, resigned to action. That shirt should not have taken this long to try on.
The end most cubicle is the only one drawn over; you head to it, detecting the grumbling grunts of a struggle the closer you get.
“Everything alright in there?” you ask dubiously.
“Wh— Why are you in here?” Hyunjin complains from inside. “I’m fine!”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
More struggling resounds from beyond; there’s a thump against the wall. You bite back a laugh.
“Do you need help?”
“Why do people just fucking lie about sizes?” he whines, and after a moment, the chaos stops.
“Okay. I’m coming in.”
“Don't you dare—”
And in pulling back the curtain to slip inside, what awaits you is not quite what you expected. Having tangled himself in something of a makeshift strait jacket, the man’s right arm is elevated uncomfortably, the shirt constricting him by bicep and shoulder. His left hand holds the hem that’s ridden up his torso, too small to apparently drag over his chest. Quite how he managed it, you can’t begin to imagine, but regardless, he’s thoroughly stuck.
“Well...”
“Don’t,” he sighs. “Just help me.”
His complexion tinctured a rose shade of mortification, he begrudgingly allows you to assess the state of things. Force seems like the most obvious solution, and so you instruct him to turn around. Now facing the floor-length mirror, he grimaces when you tug the back of the shirt, the material pinching his skin when you drag it up.
“Ouch, damn it, be careful!”
“How the hell did you even get this on?” you huff, his temporary discomfort an afterthought at best.
“It has a zipper, but it got stuck. Fuck, watch it!”
“Oh, you better stop complaining, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ll leave your ass here to rot.”
He whines exaggeratedly. “I don’t want to die like that. I’m too young and pretty.”
Which he is, but validating that would be a fatal mistake. It’s not like you’re ignorant to the toned planes of his muscled back.
“Where’s the zipper?” you ask, giving up on force.
He turns awkwardly, the dressing room hardly allowing for such manoeuvring.
“At the front. Here—” with his free hand he tugs down the collar, exposing the locking mechanism.
“Need a gentle touch with these things,” you mutter, stretching out the fabric to allow for a straight pull. A little easing and working of the zipper, and it budges slightly.
“It’s coming. Just a little more—”
“God, please,” Hyunjin wails.
Thoughtless is the way you brace your other hand against his abdomen, firm and warm under your palm, more so than is probably usual in light of his self-inflicted stress and tension. Your eyes meet for a brief second—a fleeting recognition of the touch, of the sensation—and you bring focus back to freeing him. A final guided pull of the zipper brings it sliding from chest to hem, the relief immediate as the shirt falls open on him. His arm comes down and he sags against the mirror, and in his blissful reprieve he must not notice the way you unashamedly take in the way he looks half-dressed: the sheen of exertion on his tan skin, the ridges of his abdomen relaxing and contracting with his heaving breaths, the glow the spotlights cast on him. For the simple fact is that Hyunjin is a model of a man, his beauty enough to render the busiest of minds an empty void. And in that void, when robbed of sense or shame, you’ll admit to seeing to the matter of your own relief, the last such occurrence being when, shower fresh, he opted to walk around your flat bearing nothing but a damp towel slung low around his svelte hips. You were fully (and unwittingly, on his part) apprised as to the impressive endowment of your best friend, and with the emergence of such information, a date with your toys was a given.
“Thank fuck for that,” Hyunjin groans, rubbing his sore shoulder.
You pull yourself together. “You’re welcome.”
“What would I do without my little kitten to save me, huh?”
Your swift escape from the dressing room is somewhat cowardly, but with your composure already in so fragile a state, stopping to address the sudden use of this infernal pet name doesn’t strike you as the wisest of choices.
“Meet you outside,” you call over your shoulder, your rushed pace through the clothing shop matching that of the pounding in your chest.
Back in the mall proper, the arousal lingers, setting you on cool edge. Sure enough in yourself to know that nothing outside true relief will ever alleviate it, and you’re not likely to get that until you’re home alone, you settle on pacing. It helps somewhat; staying in motion, not stewing.
When Hyunjin emerges from the shop empty handed some moments later, he’s all smiles once more.
“Where next?” he asks brightly.
Focus is good, you suppose.
“Need new shampoo,” you sigh.
Falling into stride, you walk the upper floor of the bustling mall, knowing vaguely the route to the nearest beauty outlet. It’s warmer up here, you think. Hard to tell what’s responsible for your sudden flustering.
Hyunjin frowns at you pointedly.
“What?” you ask.
“Why new shampoo?” he pouts. “I like the stuff you use now.”
Not particularly taken with the idea of explaining that your current drugstore brand appears to have an unholy drying effect on your ends, you simply shrug.
“Just feel like a change. Do I need your permission?”
And in the moment that follows, you’re drawn close into a sudden embrace secured by his hand around your nape. Standing a head taller than you, it’s no task for him to take a deep inhalation from your crown, the sensation a bolt of hot lightning down your spine. When he breaks away, you shove him by the chest, albeit weakly.
“What the hell was that?” you gripe, heat in your cheeks.
“You smell good.”
“What?”
“Your shampoo,” he presses, “makes me feel some kind of way, I swear. Don’t change it.”
You wonder how much of what he’s saying is true, how much is purely for the gag. He finds no small amount of pleasure in teasing you, such has always been the case, but when his ribbing crosses the boundaries of physical space, things get murky. You ache for validation from him on a level too intimate to entertain, and when he so recklessly manhandles and compliments and asks things of you...
“Don’t sniff me,” you deadpan, turning from him and pacing ahead, unable to summon the cool collectiveness of character that nonchalance requires.
He catches up quickly. “So you’ll keep it?”
Your silence attests to your surrender. He hums in knowing victory, a gentle elbow nudging you. Would he find such delight in it all if he knew how sorely you pined?
Several minutes of walking—you stroll straight past the beauty outlet—and a particularly intriguing shop front comes into view.
“Hold up,” you poke his arm, then point. “Want to go in there.”
He follows your direction, his face drawing notably vacant. Valid, you suppose. It’s not every day one visits an ‘adult store’, and when one does, they’re probably not with their bestie.
“You, uh, don’t have to come with if you don’t want.”
His brows pull together under blonde locks, hands shove into his pockets. “What do you need in there?”
“I just want to see,” you reply honestly, having had it in mind to forgo the sex toy section in favour of perusing the lingerie; a few nice bras never go amiss, and on the vibrator front, you’re as stocked as is needed. Yet in light of Hyunjin’s apparent trepidation, an idea altogether mischievous dawns on you.
“Wait out here, man,” you laugh, pat his shoulder. “I appreciate it’ll be a little much for you.”
Hyunjin sneers, “Fuck off. I’m coming in,” and with that, strides into the adult store without so much as a falter. Not even remotely surprised by his rising to the presented challenge, you follow him inside.
A little revenge for the suffering he’s inflicted, perhaps?
***
Never one to unnecessarily primp and preen, the sensation you find yourself amidst is decidedly foreign. It feels like confidence—tall and strong, it has your back unwaveringly—but is tinctured with a giddy anticipation that has you reaching for your phone to take a picture.
You look indescribably good. The thin black straps of the lace bralette criss-cross neatly over your chest, the deep plunge accentuates your cleavage. Dainty frills run the hem of the item to decorate your upper ribs, as they do the matching silken thong it comes with. The band pinches your hips in just the right, appealing way, offering a satisfying snap against your flesh when you pick at it, intrigued. Such extravagance isn’t in your nature, but even you possess a level of self-awareness when it comes to knowing one’s strengths; lingerie might just have to join them.
A steeling breath in, and you peek beyond the dressing room curtain, glancing up and down the empty room.
“Hyunjin?”
His name carries through the space, but no response comes. You shift nervously.
“Hyunjin!”
“What!?” he hisses.
“Could you come here?”
A second of silence, then he whisper-shouts, “You lose the last of your marbles? That’s the women’s dressing room!”
“There’s nobody else here, just come through! I need your eyes.”
“No way.”
Irritated, you resort to dirty tactics.
“Fine. Forget it. Guess I don’t really need a second opinion on this lingerie.”
Something of a gamble to hinge his compliance on a promise of seeing your semi-naked form; there’s nothing to say he’s even remotely interested enough to be enticed. And if he is, what questions does that raise? Amid this minor—terribly belated—crisis, Hyunjin appears from around the corner.
Oh, God.
Too late to tell him to turn back, he hurriedly crosses the room, darting into the cubicle and drawing the curtain back with a sharp drag. Pressed to the wall to make room for his entrance—this one is even smaller than the last—it’s only when the rush of stealth passes to leave the muted sound of your combined breaths that you realise the proximity; the gravity.
Hyunjin visibly swallows. Close enough that you see the way his pupils dilate when the moment stills and he rakes a gaze from your toe to top, lingering where the lingerie clings snuggest. His jaw locks firm.
“What do you think?” you whisper, unsure if his looming is intentional or not.
He wets his bottom lip by brief dart of tongue and shakes his head. “You really want my opinion?” he asks, his voice a tone of gravel hitherto unheard.
He steps forward inasmuch as the space will allow; more of a shuffle, a readjustment of stance. Your body throbs when his arm props beside your head; caged in and feeling every inch the prey to his predatory nature, your knees all but threaten to give out.
“I think you know exactly how fucking hot you look.”
And his other hand steadily drops to the curve of your waist, a touch so featherlight it may well pass for hovering. Desire curls around you, and in its wake you arch from the wall, seeking closeness to him. The corner of his mouth is pulled up in a grin, your breath catches tight in your throat. It’s equal parts mercy and wickedness when he touches you with intent, a glide from waist to hip that settles at the band of your thong. An inaudible sigh when he picks carefully at the thin strap, your lips parted in such voracious wanting of the man, yet he gives nothing so obvious away. In snapping the material against your flesh, you all but whimper, for as slow and controlled as this is—as he is—it still feels to be happening too fast.
He drags in a heavy, shuddering breath; arm removed from the wall, both hands travel up your sides, across your prickling navel, to your chest where he traces the lace of the bralette with fingertips.
“Hyunjin...”
Your whisper falls to another whine when he cups your breasts gently, the swell of your cleavage so appealing to him. In pushing them up and together, the bralette tightens, and he watches with so intense a darkness you can hardly stand to keep from throwing yourself at him. The ache between your thighs is now so unbearable you wonder how you’ll even make it home at all; he leans to your ear, soft blonde tickling your feverish skin. Lips against your lobe, he speaks softly:
“Did you think you could get one over on me, kitten?”
And he drops back, all contact lost. The sting of neglect is so brutally sharp, you’re too stunned to consider what his knowledge of your trivial gulling even means. In the light of day, it might suggest that he’s well aware of the effect he has on your libido and state of mind, that he acknowledges what sexual tension lives between you; what just transpired certainly attests to that.
“Meet you outside,” he states coolly, surreptitiously readjusting his groin before he throws back the curtain and steps out.
It takes a moment for the bleak reality of it to settle: your best friend has just left you so high and dry, you’ve never nursed such concentrated arousal, such thick and heavy wanting. If he had asked, you’d have given yourself to him. You’d have let him have his way in any and all manners.
Was the point of that exercise not to regain a sliver of power? How had it backfired so badly? How had he so easily turned it on its head? How much longer will you dance around admitting that you crave him?
Dressing yourself in a daze, you suppose falling back on old faithful is about all that’s left to do.
You’ll never let you down, after all.
***
Saying a frosty goodbye to Hyunjin was far from pleasant, yet utterly necessary.
You hadn’t even required excuses by which to take your leave of him; he didn’t question it. It had crossed your mind that he might be aware of how severely he’d overstepped this time, and his reluctance to press you on the matter of your departure was a direct result of that. At some point then, could you expect an apology? Would you even want it, considering the precedent you set for the tense back and forth?
Too highly strung to give reasonable thought to any of that in this moment, once back in your apartment, the plan extends to nothing much more complicated than aided masturbation; you’re going to fuck yourself until you can no longer feel your legs, and that should bring you back to a semblance of coherent self.
Spread legged on your bed, you’re almost halfway there. The silicone of the vibrator is inexplicably smooth inside you, the drag so delicious (even if it is lacking in ways only the real thing can manage). A self-taught expert in edging to the closest degree of release, the steady hum of the toy takes you to the precipice: you drag yourself back from it by total removal, accustomed to traversing the peaks and valleys of your pleasure threshold. Some might say it’s a lonely affair, and in the most obvious ways, it is, but when needs come knocking and all one has is their own enthusiasm, what else can one do but fantasise about their best friend and play back how it felt to be touched by him?
Fully absorbed in your own tryst, you don’t hear the gentle knock on the door. Neither do you hear its creak when it opens, nor the steps that you would otherwise recognise well.
Your name is called softly; opening your eyes to the visage of your best friend in your room, the response is one of panic. Senses returned, you startle to a shriek that sees you scooting up the bed.
“What the fuck!?”
He lifts his hand, a set of keys dangling from them. Right; you did give him those.
“What are you doing here?” you breathe, registering beyond the shock that he’s wearing the same jeans and shirt you saw him in earlier. Did he even go home?
“Thought I’d check in on you,” he says, that same tone of gravel laced deeply. “Seemed a little off today.”
“Get out.”
He shakes his head. “Can’t do that.”
“Seriously, you need to leave, I’m—”
“What?” he cocks his head. “Fucking yourself?”
As if requiring the blunt observation to even remember you’re holding your vibrator, it falls limply from your hand amidst the choke of mortification. Hyunjin perches on the end of the bed, thoroughly unfazed by your semi-nakedness.
“This is why you ditched me?” he asks coolly.
You swallow, unsure how to answer. Telling the truth of it would give so much more away than he knows.
“Because of what happened in the dressing room?” he presses. “The little game you tried to play with me?”
“It wasn’t a game.”
“What was it, then?”
“I... I don’t know.”
He skims a hand through his loose blonde locks, a huff of breath through his nose. If nothing else, he seems at least to be amused as he sighs, “Do you think you’ll ever be honest with me?”
Your heart pounds unforgivingly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he stares you down, “the way you try to hide everything. Do you really think I can’t tell when you’re keening for a fuck?”
You can only watch in disbelief when he repositions on his knees, a few crawled paces bringing him to your feet where he stops, hand poised expectantly over your ankle. He searches your face for the nod; when you give it by the subtlest of motions, he wraps a grip around it, stretching your leg out to drag you to the mattress proper. He crawls over you, his frame so deliciously all encompassing.
“Always wondered what you’d look like underneath me,” he muses, knuckles skimming your cheek. “Fantasies didn’t come close.”
“Hyunjin...”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he breathes. “Why did it have to come to this?”
You puff a resigned laugh, thoroughly humourless. “How was I supposed to do that? You’re my best friend, Hyunjin. Best friends aren’t supposed to want to fuck each other.”
He lowers himself, the space between your mouths so infinitesimal you feel the way his lips shape the words when he whispers, “Says who?”
And when he kisses you, it’s a spiral of immediate wanting. The brushing of lips melts to tongues slick and hot, such pent-up yearning as you’ve nursed for so long manifesting in the way you open yourself to him so readily. Futile to attempt concealing the scalding degree of your desire, your thighs open and legs hooking around him draw him close. He holds his weight on his hands, pushing back and away with tender pillowy lips that curve into a smile of wicked intent. He disappears down your body, repositioning between your legs still opened for him; one hand pressing your navel, the other guiding left thigh up and apart. On eye level with that which he craves most, his curse is one of unadulterated appreciation:
“Fuck, kitten. So pretty.”
The climb to orgasm already underway and with Hyunjin’s knowledge of such intimacy, he’s slow to get you there. Gentle fingertips part you and explore, the soft flick of his tongue an unhurried glide that edges you carefully. The relief comes in tangible waves that, though so desperately wanted, threaten to crush you: so it is that the cap of a shaken soda bottle will explode so violently.
“God... taste so good.”
“Hyunjin—”
He hushes you softly. “I know.”
And the coil of pleasure tightens to straining as he suckles with lips formed snug around your throbbing clit, as he eases middle finger inside you to stimulate the wet tenderness therein. Your reaching for the pillow to clutch at and whine into is intended to spare you from further mortification; your best friend is moments away from making you come brutally, and he knows it.
“Oh my god— ngh—” your muffled cry is encouraged to fill the room when Hyunjin reaches up, snatches the pillow to toss it aside.
“You’ve made me wait this long and you’re going to try and hide from me?” he scoffs, a particularly deep plunge of his slim digit drawing a heavy moan from you. “That’s better. Just like that.”
His mouth returns to where you need it most, and just as your body is wracked with the first tell of orgasm: everything stops.
Confused, defeated as the promise of release tragically diminishes, you look down at the man still poised between your thighs.
“What are you—”
He kisses your inner thigh, eyes hooded. “Didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?”
And perhaps you should have foreseen this; his nature has always been to tease, to lead, to draw out. Why should he be any different where matters of sex are concerned? Even more so when the events leading to this very moment were themselves steeped in such illicit chasing?
While you consider yourself a self-taught expert in the craft of delayed gratification, Hyunjin appears to have been taught by certified masters. Some period of time later and the man has thrashed all sense of coherence from you with the repetition of bringing you to near-orgasm, only to pull it out from under you with a promise of more. With this one, you don’t mind admitting to balancing on the verge of tears. Your body aches, your muscles a mess of involuntary trembling that Hyunjin soothes by reassuring touch.
“Hyunjin, please—”
He quirks a brow at you, detaching mouth from your centre. “But you’re doing so well, kitten.”
“I— I can’t... can’t take anymore—”
A lazy finger stretches you and roams your sensitivity, the glide comically easy with your sopping arousal.
“You should give yourself more credit,” he rasps, “four ruined orgasms and you’re still keeping it together.”
“I’m not,” you plead, “I’m really not. Just let me come, please.”
“Love the way you sound when you’re this desperate, kitten.”
“I need it so badly, fuck—”
 Instinct brings your hand down to offer yourself some relief; it’s promptly swatted away, Hyunjin’s disapproving tut follows.
“You want to come?” he taunts. “Fine.”
And the assault on your aching core comes with such swiftness you can hardly withstand it. Caressed by tongue and smothered by puffy lips, the euphoria that starts as the slow unravelling of your very fibre is no longer denied; it gains momentum and drops you from a breathless height, vision starring as you liquefy amongst the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had.
Quivering form held in place by hand still over your navel, Hyunjin drives you through it, the slow, steady pump of his fingers indicative of his unwavering attention. Even as the comedown calls to you, he perseveres.
“Hyunjin—”
What should be post-coital content is instead steamrolled; Hyunjin is relentless, his ministrations unforgiving. Unable to gulp down a breath or keep your limbs from trembling, you clutch the sheets beneath you.
“It’s too much, it’s too— ngh, fuck—”
A searing second orgasm plucks your soul from body; Hyunjin grins against you, even the hot of his breath proving to be too much in all your overstimulated state. Thrown from pillar to post, the void you’ve so often visited alone in your stupors of lust settles over you like a heavy blanket; you’re present, but unthinking beyond the man that, in this moment, owns you.
“Good fucking girl,” he praises, mercy given when he rises from between your legs to kneel over you. Unsure when he even removed his own clothes, you’re thoroughly taken with the sight of him naked; his cock hangs thick and heavy, and it seems to you an unreal prospect that you should be expected to take it.
Not that you won’t give it your utmost, soldier that you are.
“Turn over for me,” he instructs.
Breathless, boneless, you make some form of attempt to do. On your weakness, Hyunjin guides you to your front, a whispered reassurance offered, “You’re doing so well, kitten.” Hands and knees imprinting the mattress, a drag of large palm down your spine arches you just so. Presented to him, for him, the initial breach is grounding in ways you hadn’t anticipated: Hyunjin is ludicrously well endowed, and every inch he sinks, even despite your blatant arousal, is met with bated breath. He draws tight when he bottoms out; your knees buckle, he keeps you suspended by curve of hips.
“So soft,” he groans, “fuck, you fit right around me—”
And the pace he sets is one of acclimatisation, steady and firm as he finds familiarity in the way you take him, as you melt into the way he drags in and out. Mattress creaks accompany the soft smacks of skin, your broken sighs an encouragement.
“Harder—”
Hyunjin hisses, your presented cheeks are squeezes appreciatively amidst a snap of hips.
“Don’t stop,” you press, “you feel so good—”
He groans low. “Fuck, yeah. Keep talking.”
“You’re so hard, so fucking big—”
He preens, reaching over you to slide a gentle grip around your throat. He pulls you up and back against him, his snapping forcing each staggered breath from your lungs.
“Do you like getting split open, kitten?” he pants in your ear. “Like it when I fuck you raw?”
“Mhm, feels so nice, please—”
He releases you for you to fall to the mattress, and where your knees buckle again, this time there is no assistance. He follows atop you, the pressure of his palm over your shoulder blade keeping you pinned. Fucked into the bed with such fluid strength you’re rendered unable to speak—much less think—the new angle allows for a deeper penetration, a third strong orgasm when the drag of his length gets you there. Somewhat mercifully, yours brings his, the tremble to his form and blush of his complexion indicative of his surrender.
“Oh fuck, fuck— I’m going to come so hard—”
“Inside me,” you plead as his strength fails and he covers you with his body, his chest to your back and your shoulder subjected to open-mouthed attention. Buried into your skin, he fists the sheets beside your head, throaty groans of his unfiltered desire accompanying his sharp, shallow thrusts that fill you up.
The moment of stillness is occupied by your laboured breathing, the respective pounding of your hearts. Silence holds as he rolls from you, and while you would normally seek to engage in much-needed clean-up, you can’t even stand to move. It’s a surprise, then, when Hyunjin rises and disappears to your en-suite, returning with a towel. Too exhausted to entertain embarrassment when he firstly dries the sweat from your skin, then parts your thighs to dab up the worst of what leaks from you. He does it wordlessly and with a tenderness you thought him incapable of; when he’s done, he returns to your side.
Unsure what to say now that the urgency of lust has passed, you’re glad when Hyunjin speaks first.
“That was pretty unreal.”
You gently laugh your agreement. “Yeah.”
He turns to you, seeking your gaze. When you give it, the sincerity there is yet another unexpected turn of his character.
“I’m glad,” he says softly.
“You are?”
He nods. “At the risk of sounding like an arrogant prick, I always kind of thought this would happen. You could cut the tension between us with a blunt spoon.”
“You say that, but I thought it was just me that felt it.”
He quirks a brow, amused.
“You give absolutely nothing away,” you explain. “Until today, I was resigned to forever pining after my best friend.”
“Well,” he sighs, pulling you into his chest, “now you can forever pine after your boyfriend.”
Warm in his embrace, against his skin, there’s something almost elegant in the way he so nonchalantly presents and decides on the status now shared between you. From bestie to boyfriend, in so simple a sentence as that. And why dispute it, when the idea brings you to such delight? To be able to call him more than just a friend is a fantasy hitherto ignored. Now it’s your reality.
“Need to go back to the mall tomorrow,” he mumbles among the calling of sleep. You look up at him, confused.
He grins lazily, the very picture of mischief. A soft kiss pressed to your forehead, his nose brushing down your temple when he whispers in your ear:
“You and I have unfinished business with that lingerie, kitten.”
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𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙨𝙠 ♡
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moonkyos · 2 months
Text
thigh riding ☾ anton lee
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starring: anton x afab! reader (neutral pronouns)
rating: 18+ (explicit)
cw/tw: established relationship, swearing, thigh riding, fingering, anton calls reader "baby"
wc: 587
a/n: i originally posted this a long time ago under a different blog name and for another idol, so if it seems familiar, that's why!
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You grind against Anton’s thigh, trying your best to be subtle. You love the way his muscles press against your tingling core, causing a warmth of pleasure.
“What are you doing, baby?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. 
“Enjoying being close to you.” You smile, resting your head against him, and focus on keeping your breathing steady so he doesn’t notice what you’re really up to.
Finding a good rhythm is easy, and you soon feel your underwear becoming wet from your arousal as you grind on your boyfriend’s thigh. You bite your lip to suppress the moans that threaten to fall from your lips.
A burst of pleasure rushes through your lower half when you find an intensely delightful level of pressure as Anton’s thigh rubs against your clit perfectly. “Mhm, fuck,” you murmur, allowing a brief moan to escape your lips.
“You’re so shameless, y/n. I can’t believe you’re getting off on my thigh,” Anton chuckles, causing your eyes to widen at being caught. You hide your face in his shoulder, your whole body flushing with heat. “You seriously thought I wouldn’t notice?” 
“I don’t know! Maybe?” you whine, embarrassed. 
He tuts at you playfully. “You’re so naughty. You could’ve just asked me to help you if you were feeling needy.”
“I know, but this feels nice,” you admit shyly, speaking quietly. “Can I keep going?” 
He hums in approval. “Go ahead, baby. It’s hot having you pleasure yourself using my body.” 
Feeling bolder from his encouragement, you grind down harder and quicken the pace. Anton holds your waist, helping you rock against him as he flexes his muscles for you. 
You whimper from the increase in contact, his flexing helping to bring you closer to your peak, and you bite your lip. “Fuck, Anton. It feels so good.” 
“Need some help?” Anton asks, his hands grazing over your lower back. “I know you usually like having something inside you. Want to use my fingers?” he offers, and you nod quickly.
You sit up straight, finally seeing that he’s smirking at you and looking smug. “Oh, fuck off.” You roll your eyes, and he laughs. 
“You love me,” he retorts.
He’s quick to pull the crotch of your shorts and underwear aside, then sinks two fingers deep into your dripping pussy. You let out a loud moan from the sudden feeling of fullness, gripping his shoulders as your head rolls back. 
“Is that good, baby?” he teases, and you whimper, nodding in response. 
You rock against his fingers, his digits perfectly rubbing over your most sensitive spot, and know you won’t last much longer. 
“Anton,” you moan, biting your lip. “Feels so good, I’m so close.” 
Anton grins, pleased with himself, and presses his thumb to your sensitive clit, rubbing quickly. “Just relax and cum on my fingers, baby. Let me take care of you.” 
He watches your movements and expressions intently, eyes hooded in arousal as you let out a string of moans and curses. You relish in the euphoric feeling he’s giving you, and your orgasm hits quickly. Waves of pure bliss wash over your body, and you moan loudly, your eyes squeezing shut, nails digging into Anton’s broad shoulders. You ride out your high with his fingers still pleasuring you to draw out your climax. 
Your mind feels cloudy, and relaxation comes over you as you try to catch your breath, recovering from your orgasm while Anton gently pulls his fingers out of you.
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taglist: @bigkpopstan
taglist is open!
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© moonkyos 2024 | all rights reserved - please do not plagiarise, repost or translate my work
581 notes · View notes
byuljoonie · 4 months
Note
Hiii could i request bf jungkook that won’t stop squeezing and slapping his gf’s butt 🤧
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pairing: dom!jk x fem!reader
genre: drabble, unedited
word count: 1k
warnings: fluff if you hate fluff, touch love language, kissing, teasing
note: you sure can 🥰 thanks for reading and enjoy! Ily -dubu♡
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You opened the washing machine door tossing its contents into the already opened dryer, celebrating the almost ending of another tedious chore.
Jungkook is currently at the gym training, having left before you could peel your eyes open in the early hours of the morning. He kissed your forehead and fed Bam on his way out of your shared living space, trying his best to sneak around silently.
You promised to clean the apartment today while he was away, throwing on your best insignificant clothing, Jungkook’s tank top and whatever panties you grabbed first after your shower.
You conquered your en-suite bathroom first, picking up your boyfriends discarded clothing that he swore to pick up 2 days ago. You gave him grace regarding his interminable schedule and relentless lifestyle, he still makes time for you without hesitation.
Now after 2 hours of cleaning and 4 loads of laundry, your body gives in to the aching in your knees and the couch is suddenly at your leisure. You rocked yourself slowly, lulling off into a forgotten daydream, when you hear soft humming outside your front door. The sound of the keypad pin being put in followed by quiet shuffling.
“Kookie!” You excitedly roll off the couch, waddling over to your waiting boyfriend. “Hi, my beautiful girl,” Jungkook dropped his gym bag, wrapping his arms around your shorter frame. You leaned into his touch squeezing him in a burst of affection.
His hands snaked their way down your body, stopped over the swell of your ass and squeezing. You yelped in surprise smiling at your handsy partner.
“How was it?” You asked pulling away from Jungkook and walking towards the kitchen. You expect to hear his large footsteps trialing closely behind, but you hear nothing. You turn around in confusion, questioning his hunger status, knowing he’s hungry.
Jungkook is still looking at you, his bottom lip wedged in a lip bite so strong a metallic taste invaded his mouth. He shook his head flustered and smiling, walking towards you and grabbing your hand to guide you into the kitchen.
He let you walk in front of him, slapping your behind when the chance finally presented itself. That’s what this is about, you thought to yourself, his strange behavior gradually making sense. You turn around backing into the counter closest to you, putting your hands over your face shyly. He chuckled walking over to you.
“I’m hungry,” he said casually, leaning his head forward against yours as your back pushed further into the counter behind you.
“I know, babe.” You said innocently, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch, the warmth of his forehead sending shockwaves of heat through you.
“No, you don’t y/n.” Jungkook said grabbing your hips and raising you onto the countertop. You yelled his name in surprise, gripping his shoulders to save you from your imminent demise. He chuckled running his hands down your hips and reaching around to rest his hands on your ass.
“You’ve worked so hard today,” he spoke sweetly, easily swaying your already accommodating mind. Running one of his hands up to rub circles on the small of your back, “Can I give you a massage, princess?”
Your heartbeat begins to race and you nod in acceptance, reaching forward and kissing Jungkook softly. He gladly reciprocates, pulling you closer to his body, squeezing your ass rather harshly. You softly whimper into his mouth, running your hand down the back of his neck. He breaks away from the kiss to drag his lips down your neck, leaving a prominent bruise behind.
“Upstairs —“ you whisper fervidly, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your chest begins to rise rapidly and fall heavily. Jungkook happily complied, crossing the distance to your room swiftly.
He walked you over to your bed setting you down gently in the middle. He took off his thin t-shirt, leaving his shorts to rest dangerously low on his hips. You couldn’t pry your eyes away from his body.
“Lay down on your tummy, beautiful.” he says tilting his head to the side, the vague hint of a smirk on his pierced lips.
You did as you were told, taking deep breathes as you sank into the soft mattress. You decided to close your eyes, wanting to relish in the feeling of his strong hands releasing the stress from your body.
You hear shuffling and then feel a dip in the bed beside you, your shirt unexpectedly being lifted. Goosebumps coated your skin, the air becoming uncomfortably thick.
“Just relax and listen to my voice,” Jungkook moved closer to you, placing a leg on each side of you, straddling your body. He began humming a calming melody, hands working under your shirt like an experienced masseuse. Thumbs running in small circular motions, laying waste of any knots in your back.
You felt his hands move lower down your rear side, his breath hitching mid song. You gently urged him to move ahead, your airy voice coming out in a sultry whisper.
He rested his hands on your ass and started kneading readily, lightly grasping large handfuls. You heaved a sigh of relief, arching into his touch. His hands moved like an artist working across a canvas, relieving aches in your lower back.
“Let me take these off, baby,” he toyed with the hem of your panties, running his finger along the top and letting it slap down on your backside. Not waiting for your answer and sliding them over your thighs until he got them in his hand. Sniffing them and sneakily placing them in his pocket.
He lowered himself down, listening for your breathing pattern as he kissed slowly down your back. Descending down your body gradually, he paid extra attention to your ass, licking and sucking mouth fulls of the soft flesh. Growling and groaning at the soft moans you were letting loose.
“Fuck — you smell so good,” he inhaled deeply, a straggled moan coming from your lips as his nose poked at your entrance. He spread your cheeks apart, readily licking up your slit, not wasting anymore time on excruciating foreplay.
829 notes · View notes
jhdyuiee · 4 days
Text
Mirrors
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-‘๑’- pairing: HUSBAND!jaehyun x WIFE!y/n
-‘๑’- warnings/tags: smut!, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl, wife, beautiful), unprotected sex, finger-fucking, squirting, spanking, heavy making out/kissing, breast play, cursing, multiple orgams, riding
-‘๑’- w.c: 1.6k
-‘๑’- a.n: hii!! i’m sorry for being MIA for the last month, school has been rlly overwhelming with midterms & testing but i’m on break rn which means ill be back to uploading! look foward to all the content i’ll be releasing starting with this one!! i love u all & thank you for waiting. i’m truly sorry 🤍
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. . .
The hard crash of his lips on mine as the faint sound of the door slamming shut rung in my ears.
“Naked and on the bed,” he said as he pulled his lips away, his voice so deep.
Without a second thought, I went into the room and rid myself of every piece of clothing I had on. The cool air brushed against my wet aching core and hard nipples. Jaehyun walked in moments later, his hard cock leaking with precum. I wanted nothing more but to get a taste of it in my mouth, and fuck me til’ I forgot who I was.
Only he could do that.
His fingers grabbed my chin, lifting my head so I could look at him, eye-to-eye.
“Open your mouth,” he whispered, and so I did; slipping in two fingers into my mouth. “Suck.”
I sucked on his fingers, while he looked at me in a taunting way. His face saying, What a slut. I swirled my tongue and sucked on his fingers. ‘Is it weird how I find this oddly hot?’
Soon I was put in a haze, Jaehyun must’ve noticed it since he took his fingers out and managed to position me on top of him.
“You shouldn’t be thinking about anything else besides me,” he said, pinching one of my nipples roughly. I unconsciously grinded against him, his hard cock resting against my ass.
“S-sorry-“ I muttered, before he picked me up and sat in front of the mirror that stood in the corner of the room. I was positioned with my back resting against his chest, and his hands opening up my legs. I watched through the mirror all his movements and the way my cunt drooled.
“So wet for me,” he taunted, as he ghosted his hand around my cunt. Before I was able to mutter a sentence, a word, he slapped my cunt. I omitted a low yell, earning me another slap. “Oh! Fuck. J-Jae.” Slap. “Please ‘m nn-no.”
His hot breath warmed my ear, and he whispered, “No, you deserve a punishment after the show you put on at dinner.” His lips lingered for a while longer, then kissed down my neck. I felt like I was going to crumble any minute now, just by his harsh slaps and taunting words. I was so close, so fucking close, but then his slaps came to a hault.
“J-Jaehyun?” I questioned, turning my head back. His lust-filled eyes staring back at me.
He smirked, “Oh my pretty wife, you don’t get to cum yet.”
“Wha-What? I-“ He interrupted me halfway when his fingers intruded inside my cunt. No warning, Nothing. His two fingers going at an unmerciful pace, my stomach fluttered. The knot threatened to unleash any moment now.
“Pl-Pleas’ let me c-cum. I’m cl-close Jaehyun…”
His pace slowed, then halted again. He was torturing me. I couldn’t handle it. “No, no, no. Please Jae let me cum,” I begged him. I needed to release.
His hand grabbed my jaw, turning me to face him. “Apologize then,” his hazy voice said. “Apologize?” I questioned. “Yes, apologize for the show you put on earlier.”
The last hours came rushing back into my hazy mind. The incident at the restaurant. The incident in question was when I put on a dress—so short in his words—that it kept lifting up, nearly exposing my ass.
In truth, I wore it to piss him off, and because I might’ve felt a little needy for him today. However, I underestimated how many people would have their eyes on me, and the amount of fumes erupting from Jaehyun's head.
“S-Sorry… I’ll never do that again Jae.” His face didn’t change, “And?”
“And I’m only yours. I belong to you Jaehyun.”
He smirked, his lips finding mine. The kiss distracting me from his fingers that once again intruded inside my cunt, continuing their pace. His thumb playing with my clit, stroking, and circling it until it had me begging into our kiss. I wanted more.
“Please fuck me.” The words came out of my mouth, when I pulled away from the kiss.
Jaehyun didn’t say anything, he just lowered his head into my neck, sucking on my sweet spot as he continued relentlessly finger fucking me. I involuntarily clenched around his fingers, signaling him.
“It’s okay baby, let go all over my fingers beautiful.” Jaehyun's words were the tip of the iceberg, I came crashing down. Loud moans erupted from my lips, tears streamed from my eyes, and the faint touch of his lips against my shoulders.
“I always love it when you squirt,” he whispered. When my eyes finally fluttered open, I witnessed what he meant by that. I squirted all over his arm, the mirror, and the floor. The scene in front of us; a mess.
He brought his hand that was inside me to his mouth, licking himself clean of all my juices. He let out a satisfied groan. When he finished, he picked me back up and threw me gently on the bed. His cock aching for it’s release.
“Spread nice and wide for me baby,” he said. I grabbed my legs, spreading them for him. In different circumstances I would’ve hesitated, but the lust clouding my mind cut out any logic or emotions.
“Good girl.”
He brought himself closer, his tip prodded outside me. He was teasing me, but I was running out of patience. I shifted closer until his tip was the only thing inside my cunt.
“Impatient aren’t you my wife,” he teased as he watched me. He was enjoying this so much, I saw it in the way he look at me.
“Please hurry Jae, I need you to fuck me already.”
“Fuck you drive me insane Y/N.”
We both moaned when he pushed his cock further in, stretching me out so well. Jaehyun groaned, taking my arms to pin them above my head.
“So fucking tight,” he chuckled. “Even after all that squirting.”
Jaehyun thrusted hard and rough. The squelching sounds echoed in the room along with my moans. I would’ve been scratching his back if it wasn’t for the hold he had on my wrists that he pinned above my head.
“Ri-Right there,” I moaned out when he hit the spot he knows will have me crashing and crumbling. “Deeper… Harder.”
“As you wish,” he said. Jaehyun angled me slightly, his thrusts reaching me more deeper. The hold on my wrists disappeared, his hands now coming down my body until one reached my clit. He circled and pinched the already swollen clit as he thrusted even more relentlessly into me.
“Cum,” he groaned. One thrust, then two, until I finally came. I came hard on his cock, clenching around it while he fucked me through my climax.
His thrust then slowed down, going sloppy. He was close too. A couple thrusts more and he came too. His white seeds painting my insides white, filling me up so well.
“Good job baby,” he whispered, kissing my lips gently, a total contrast to his demeanor earlier. He laid beside me, and we waited until we caught out breaths. However, I was far from satisfied, I wanted him back inside me.
I turned to his side, he was already looking at me. He smiled, his dimples appearing. I got up, staring at his cock, which was still semi-hard.
“Not satisfied,” he said. I turned to him, seeing the smirk plastered across his face. I nodded. “Then ride me baby, you know what to do.”
Before I entered him, I stroked him to get his cock harder. I positioned myself on top of his cock, lowering myself until the tip poked me. I slid him in slowly, until he was all the way in.
“Fuck. Feel so good,” he groaned, bringing his hands to the sides of my hips.
I started bouncing, increasing my speed the more I go. His fingers dug into me, marks sure to appear. “Keep going baby, like that. Fuck. You’ll be the death of me.”
His praises only ignited me even more. “You like that?” I said when I leaned forward to capture his lips. He only let a satisfied groan into the kiss, but his hands traveled down to the flesh of my ass. He kneaded it, smacking it moments later. His smacks didn’t stop, but they did once I got back up.
“Keep riding me beautiful, I’m close to cummin’ now.”
And so I continued, his hands now on my tits. He fondled them, playing with both my nipples and later pinching them while I bounced on him. “Come down, I wanna suck on em’” he commanded.
My hands on the headboard, while my tits came in front of his face. I felt as his tongue darted out, and sucked on one like a child.
Slap. “Keep moving,” he said, biting down on my nipple.
It didn’t take long until we both came. My third climax erupting from me, in a hazy and euphoric way. I only saw white.
“Fucked dumb my little wife,” Jaehyun said, looking down at me. My legs trembled, tear stains all over my face, drool escaping my lips, and his love marks scattered all over my body.
“Yes,” I muttered. His head came down next to my ear whispering, “You did well.” His voice caused an eruption of butterflies in my stomach. I always loved his praises.
“Go to sleep now baby, I’ll clean you up,” he said. “And the mess you made in the mirror,” he teased. I pouted at his words, earning a laugh from him.
“I’m sorry, I love you.” He kissed my temple saying, “Good night my wife.”
“Good night Jae, I love you.” I muttered into the night before I drifted off into a quiet and deep sleep.
. . .
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© jhdyuiee
2024.03.23
293 notes · View notes
mae-gi-writes · 10 months
Text
rile you up | lee Minho (xo kitty)
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You’re Minho’s latest form of entertainment and he cannot just get enough of riling you up.
Genre: romcom, slice of life, school!au, minho is a little dick
———
“Fuck you, Minho.”
“What a ray of sunshine you are on this fine day.”
You grit your teeth together, almost grind them to nothing, and repeat the words with even more conviction, “I said fuck you.”
”Watch that tongue sunshine, might fall out if you’re not careful,” Minho’s grin just widens at the way your eyes have narrowed into slights. If looks could kill, he would’ve been shot int he head twice, revived, and shot once again. But thankfully for him, your narrow-eyed stare is nothing scarier than a cute kitten ready to take her claws out.
It’s a boring, rainy and muddy Wednesday afternoon and you really don’t want to be here, in English Lit, listening to professor Lau drone on and on about love and friendship in the verses of Lord Byron’s poems and how, if you read in-between the lines and analyze the intonations, the words, the onomatopieas, you’ll find a much deeper definition of Lord Byron’s feelings.
And Minho sitting right beside you is not making it much easier.
“You’ve got a pimple growing on your left cheek,” Minho squints at your face as you turn away, cupping your face with your hands as your eyes find the lock tick, tick, ticking at the far end of the classroom. Thirty more minutes of this torture.
“Can you just stop hyper-analyzing me like I’m some kind of lab rat?I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” You snap back.
“Woah,” Minho sighs before he shakes his head, “you really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.”
“And you, my friend, need to mind your own business.”
“Minho and Y/N.”
Professor Lau’s voice causes both of them to wince, physically, before looking up to see the said old man with bespectacled glasses, the book of poems in his hand and his eyebrows raised as though he expected better.
If you’re being honest, you really do enjoy Professor Lau’s classes, normally. Normally.
But not today. Today, you’re having a completely off day. You woke up late, you couldn’t sleep at all last night, and all the coffee had run out by the time you’d made it to campus. Your grades are suffering and you’re currently trying to ploughing through all the assignments without drowning.
And the worst of it all, you miss home.
You miss your mom. You miss your family, your brother with whom you would fight with at every occasion and play Mario kart with. You missed your grandma, your aunts, the food they cooked, the shared laughter, the smiles…
You’re in so deep in your thought process that you haven’t even registered that Professor Lau is telling you off until he calls for your name that brings you back to attention.
“—yes?” Your eyes flit up to Professor Lau’s and a wave of emotion suddenly takes its toll on you. You try hard to blink back the sudden burn of tears at the corner of your eyes, crawling up your throat.
“I was expecting better of your behaviour, miss Y/N,” he says, pointedly looking between you and Minho with pursed lips, “in my office after class. You’re up for cleaning duty.”
Great. That’s exactly what you need. After everything.
Fucking. Great.
———
“These pretty hands cannot clean,” these are Minho’s first words as the rest of the class files out to leave you two alone on cleaning duty and as you had predicted, there are papers all over the place, test papers and pens and pencils, “I’ve taken care of my hands all these years. I am not ruining it just to clean a classroom.”
“You are so freaking dramatic,” you roll your eyes, standing up to find the cleaning supplies that are stacked at the back of the class, in the storage closet, “let’s just get this over with and we can both move on with our lives and I won’t have to see you again for the rest of this week.”
“What’s up your arse, dude?” Minho follows you, one hand leaning on the doorframe as you start pulling out the duster, the cleaning rags and the shiny new broom that Professor Lau is currently obsessed with, “you’ve been acting really weird.”
“What?” You scoff, proceeding to hand him the broom because you know he’s never going to be the one on his hands and knees cleaning the floors, “I’m not. I’m just tired.”
“No, you’ve been acting off all week. You’re all snappy, your dark circles are so prominent you look like a walking zombie and you keep asking me to go fuck myself,” Minho rolls his eyes, “also, how do you use this?”
“Jesus chri—“ you make a move towards him, grabbing the hand holding the broom while struggling to circle his back and grabbing the other, “you keep that thing steady, then you brush the dirt from this one—“ you grip his hand and shuffle it over the floor in a sweeping motion, “until it goes into the pan. Got it?”
It's only then you realize the warmth emanating from Minho's back. If you move a little closer, you could press your cheek against him. He smells like something citrus and fresh mint and man.
Somehow, it makes goosebumps explode all over your skin. You step back abruptly, noting the heat searing through your palms where you had touched him just as he turns to face you, "you seem to be a natural at this. Why don't you do it?"
"I'm gonna take care of the floors," you're glad for the distraction that comes in the form of the rag, for there's a knot of heat in the middle of your chest and you're not quite sure how to deal with it, "let's just get this over with."
There's a long moment of silence as both of you focus on your tasks, which helps to calm down your nerves. Somehow, the sound of Minho's brush is conforting to hear.
Until he speaks up, "so you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"
"Why should I tell you, of all people?"
"Because there's nobody else around and seeing you all mopey makes me actually feel bad for you."
You wipe off the dusty corner by the teacher's desk, "Do you have any ounce of decency in you somewhere?"
"Not when you're involved," Minho snickers.
You whip around, throw the balled-up rag at him and smirk in satiafaction when it hits him square in the head, "ow--what the fuck, Y/N?!"
Glad that you managed to piss him off, you turn and continue, "oops sorry. My hand slipped."
It's not ultimately Minho's fault that you're more anxious, more easily irritated than usual. So you can't really take it out on him. But he doesn't make it any easier either.
Thankfully, the rest of the cleanup goes smoothly as butter and he parts ways with the excuse that he needs to go find his aupposed lunch date, to which you merely rolles your eyes and headed for the dining hall alone.
It doesn't normally bother you to be alone. On the contrary, you relish in those silent moments of freedom without having to hear an earful from Kitty and Q, or having Yuri complain about yet another one of her life's family miseries.
But as you find a vacant seat by the door, you can't help but suddenly feel a little small in a room full of people who seem to be right where they should be. And something in your heart constricts and clenches so hard it causes a soft sob to die at the back of your throat.
You grip your spoon a little tighter and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel the tangy taste of blood.
It feels lonely.
------
You're kind of sick.
Not physically sick.
Just sick of hearing christmas carols ringing all over campus. Sick of smelling hot chocolate in the air, sick of seeing luggages being dragged on vacation.
Sick of being here.
For an international student, returning home for Christmas was never an option. The airplane ticket is too expensive for your familt to afford, and you wouldn't ever impose that on them. But if you had to admit to that selfish part of you; you wished you were privileged enough to get to fly out at every chance you got.
Alas, that is not the kind of life that you live.
So when the doorbell rings at seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, you're more than surprised to find none other than Minho standing by your door with his hands in his pockets.
"Wh--Yeah? What do you want?" You frown upon noticing the lack of luggage behind him. Knowing Minho, he packed like a diva.
He hums and peeks inside your flat, causing you to shuffle into his peripheral vision, "what do you want Minho?"
"You're not packed."
"Wise observation, smartass."
He brushes past you and strides inside, taking his shoes off casually by the door, "why not?"
"None of your business."
He throws you an exasperated look, "you gonna keep being like this?"
"I don't know, are you gonna keep annoying the hell out of me?"
He can't help the grin that spreads over his face at that, "you're fun to mess around with."
"Well for your information, it's not fun. Not for me," you don't hesitate to walk over before grabbing onto his arm and tugging over to the door, "really. I'm fine. Now leave."
"I'm surprised you're not going home for Christmas," he continues as you're pushing him out of the door.
It stings, "why?"
"International kids usually do," he folds his arms, proceeds to lean into the open doorway and you got another whiff of his scent, "what? Daddy didn't want to pay for you this time?"
"My dad died. Two years ago."
There's surprise first, that flashes through his eyes. Then realization slowly dawns.
There’s some kind of weight in your chest. Like your heart has just broke.
"What?" You laugh but it's dry and twisted, "cat got your tongue? Too shocked to speak? Poor little Y/N, who doesn't have a father to pay off her credit card bills, right?"
"I didn't know--"
"Of course you didn't. You never asked."
"I'm--" he swallows, looks away, "—sorry."
You scoff, "don't. It's okay. I've been over it for the past two years."
It's not what he says but rather the way he looks at you that makes your insides shrivel up with dread and fear and the idea that he'll never look at you the same way ever again.
Because the thing is, no matter how much Mjnjo teases you, bullies you into oblivion, you do enjoy the attention, the banter. It's almost as if it's better than just being ignored altogether.
And amidst all his teasing and his annoying personaity, there are bite and smidges of Minho's kindness smattered in-between, flecks of tenderness that makes your heart soar, your brrath
To have such a man look down at you, pity you, makes you want to be sick.
"Y/N--" you cut him off before he can even try to make it up to you, "it's fine, Minho. Just drop it--"
"Wha--I said I was sorry, don't give me that look--"
"I said drop it!" You swerve around on him, anger bubbling from deep within your chest as blood pulses through, rushes through you, "for one goddamn second, can you just leave me alone?! I don’t need this—this constant bullying of your part! It’s tiring and it’s just so goddamn frustrating and humiliating so will you just stop?!”
The shocked silence that follows your sudden outburst is heavy. If the tension had been thick before, it’s now so hard you can barely cut it with a knife. You try to regulate your staccato breaths, try not to let your body take over your mind as you focus on breathing in, breathing out, breathing in. Breathing out. Just like that.
Calm. Like water. Like you’re a river that never stops.
“Just go, Minho,” your words are bitter. You can barely look his way, an overwhelming surge of irritation, guilt and hurt swimming through you.
Thankfully, the young man seems just as surprised as you are and leaves without even a backward glance. That’s when you finally cave in and allow your legs to crumble to your floor. Pressing your head against the door, your body instantly gives into the sadness that crumbles through you like used up tissue, soaking in all the tears that are suddenly cascading down your cheeks without restraint.
You cry yourself to sleep that night.
———
“Minho, I’m really sorry about my behaviour.”
You stare.
Your reflection stares back.
Shit. This doesn’t feel right. You close your eyes, exhale a soft breath, and open them once more only to find a set of familiar brown eyes gazing back at you.
It’s just the day after Christmas and though the majority of your friends were still off campus, you’re well aware that a certain Korean young man has decidedly stayed back because of his mother’s offshoot shooting commercial.
However, you still hadn’t gotten the guts to go back and ask him for a formal apology yet. Did you even need one when he’d been the one prodding you with a stick like he would with a nest of aggressive bees?
Oh well. You decided you’d be the bigger person and make the first move. As always.
So you look back to your reflection with renewed determination, take a deep breath before forcing the words out, “I am really sorry for my shitty behaviour, Minho, I should’ve—no,” you shake your head, start again and clasp your hands together for good measure, “I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way, I was hurt—no. God. I sound so pathetic.” You can’t help but curse at the mirror.
Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. And you try once more, this time adding a small smile.
“I’m really sorry for everything that I said. I was being a bit insensitive and wasn’t in the right headspace—“ you break off with a frustrated snarl, “god! Why is it so hard to apologize to the dude?!”
“The dude’s standing right here.”
Shocked, you swivel around only to find none other than the said question in person leaning against your doorway, eyebrows raised and a semblance of a smirk lining his lips.
“M—Minho,” you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a stuttering goldfish. Quickly, your hands smooth down your sweater, hiding them in the big bell sleeves as your eyes find everything — anything, to get off his face, “what—what are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you, actually.”
“Why?”
You’re still not looking, deciding that the faint crack in your dorm room is much more interesting.
Minho’s footsteps approach as he strides close, close enough that you get a whiff of his expensive cologne and restrain yourself from sighing out loud.
The bastard smells too good, you feel like crying.
“Why?” He scoffs, “isn’t it obvious?”
“Not really.”
“Alright. Fine,” you’re still not looking at him, which is why you almost jump out of your skin the moment you feel the gentlest graze of his fingertips at your jaw.
“Wha—“ you stutter, eyes flashing up to his on instinct.
Dark brown meets swirls of maroon. You almost lose your breath.
In the mid-morning light with sunshine falling over half of his face, Minho looks like he’d just walked out of some fashion magazine.
“What are you…doing?” You manage to murmur out. Barely.
It’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, in your personal space, looking a little too dashing for his own good.
“You’re right. I was being a selfish dick to you two days ago,” his grip on your chin is firm, his dark eyes even firmer, “so I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”
You laugh, “wait—is Minho actually apologizing? To me?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“But this is a legendary moment,” you fake a mocking gasp at him, “I should record this right now.”
“Don’t make me regret it, Y/N.”
Chuckling, your eyes crinkle up as you allow yourself to roam over his features, “okay okay, I’ll stop.”
Minho fidgets and doesn’t say anything back. Weird, considering that he has a comeback for everything. You feel his hand drop from your chin as he takes a step back, lips pressed together and face looking like he’s uncomfortable being here.
Do you make him uncomfortable? It’s not a sight you’re used to seeing. Something tugs at your heartstrings but you try and ignore it.
“What is it?” You ask instead.
“There is…” his eyes dart away, “something I need to tell you.”
“About?”
His hand drops. Instantly, cold swoops in.
“About me. And you.”
You squint, “Minho I swear, if this is one of your stupid jokes again—“
“I like you.”
You blink.
He gazes back. His eyes. They’re gazing straight at you. Focused. Intense. Hot.
So hot it causes a flame to burst in your chest.
Wait…your mind backtracks, what?
“You—“ your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more, "I'm sorry--what?"
His eyes answer in his stead. Dark orbs swirling with a depth that makes your skin explode in goosebumps. You realize, all too soon, how close you are, how -- if you want -- you can diminish the space between just with one single step forward.
"I like you," he says it honestly. Somehow, you relish in the way he says it. Clear and transparent. No inside games, no beating around the bush, "maybe more than a little."
You sense a but. "And?"
He rolls his eyes, "and maybe I just don't know how to show it."
"You mean, acting like a five year old boy who bullies his crush for fun because he likes her?"
"Something like that."
"Okay," you drag out the word in hopes that it will hide the way your heart suddenly skips a beat, the way your legs feel weaker at the knees, "so what--what now?"
"Well, that's the part where you tell me you like me back--" Minho catches himself upon seeing you raise a brow at him, "--or not. Your choice, your rules, doll."
Doll? You can feel the flame bursting through your chest and squeezing your heart. It aches so much it hurts, though it seems that your smile can't help tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch him and despite his seeming nonchalance about the whole matter, there's the slightest sheen of pink that gives him away.
Cute. Your brain chants.
"Well," you tilt your chin up in what you hope is a confident manner, "you normally take a girl out to dinner first."
"Is that a yes?" Minho smirks.
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Yes, yes I heard alright. Fine," he sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "tomorrow night. Dinner. Be ready by six. I'll pick you up."
"Tomorrow? But wait I--"
"You better be there, doll."
And with that, he swivels on his feet and walk away while whistling a soft tune, leaving your heart flooded with a tide of mixed emotions that erupt through your chest and butterflies running along your skin.
---
Minho: I'll come pick you up by six. Be ready then. Wear something cute but casual. Nothing fancy.
Y/N: i like how you're telling me how to dress up when you're the one who's supposes to be wooing me.
Minho: oh you don't have to worry about that.
The way he replies so smoothly has goosebumps running along the back of your neck and you squeeze your hands into fists. You're still sitting on your bed, trying to digest all this new information as another flurry of messages burst through your phone, probably fron Kitty's latest reaction your news.
Kitty: what?! Minho?! And you?! He asked you out?!!! Omg how did I not see this coming!!!
Y/N: i thought you were a matchmaker.
Kitty: well YEAH before he went and ruined it!!! Anyway, what are you WEARING?!
Y/N: i have absolutely no idea. He said something cute but casual, so I'm guessing there's not gonna be any fancy dinners or anything.
Kitty: omg!! Minho and casual doesn't sound right. Maybe he really is trying to woo you!!
Y/N: should I wear shorts? Pants? A skirt?
Kitty: definitely no pants. Maybe that cute skater skirt you wore to Yuri's party last semester?
So you do. The skirt's baby blue colour contrasts well with the simple white tshirt you decided to wear with it, and throwing on a beige cardigan and some white sneakers complete the look. You add a small blue bow into your hair to match, and take one last look at yourself in hopes that you're looking exactly how Minho wants you to--
No. That's the wrong way to go about it. Minho likes you. Yes. You. Not the girls he's always so uses to seeing. You don't have to impress him.
That’s how you meet him right outside your door, with your newly-found resolve as you catch the simple white tee and ripped jeans, hair styled just the way he likes it, just enough to make every woman’s heart swoon.
His eyes do a once-over, “not bad, Y/N. You clean up nice.”
“Not bad?” You scoff, “I’m sure there are much better adjectives to use.”
He grins, “we’ll see.”
Minho brings you over to the Han river by electric scooter, with you standing in front and holding on to the handlebars as he guides you across the street even though it’s technically illegal for people to do such a thing. But with the wind in your hair and Minho’s warmth at your back, you don’t find yourself complaining.
“Han river?” You raise a brow at him as he parks and pays for his e-scooter ride, “really? So cliche.”
“The Han River is a classic,” he looks at you pointedly, “and I’ll have you know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”
“Ooh, does that mean anything?” You wriggle your brows and he scoffs, looks away, “shut up.”
You weren’t expecting him, of all people, to be a fan of romantic gestures such as this. But when he parks his scooter in favor of walking alongside you by the trail — even with his multiple complaints about the dirt being too dirty and people needing to revisit their wardrobe fashion — you can’t help but wonder how much effort he’s putting into just being with you. Because knowing Minho, walking on crushed grass and having his shoes in dirt is quite a big deal.
“Look, do you want to be swooned or not?” He replies when you ask him the question, even looks offended that you’d dared ask such a thing, “I thought girls loved it when boys brought them here.”
“Yes I know that,” your grin is so wide that you’re surprised it hasn’t broken your face in two yet, “and don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I never thought you—of all people — would bring me here, of all places. It’s just not…”
“Not what?” He scowls.
“Just not you,” you confess, and then, seeing that his frown seems to take a permanent fixture on his face, you quickly add, “so the fact that you’re doing it…thanks. It means…something. You know?”
Heat springs through your cheeks at the sudden confession and you quickly look away, anywhere, but not before glancing at Minho to see that he has a faint smile dancing across his lips.
As the evening wears on, you get to talk about everything and anything; from worries about your future and the rigorous routine of adult life, about which game box is better and which restaurant serves the best korean noodles, which Minho argues does not exist, considering that every single noodle joint in Seoul is a pro in making them.
"We're the city of noodles and gimbap, obviously there's more than one good noodle stop."
"You speak like someone who hasn't tasted Uncle Cha's food yet. You know, the snack from across the road to campus."
Minho's nose wrinkles, "nah I'm good--"
"Oh no you don't," you grab onto his arm before he has a chance to run away, "nu-uh. Let's go get them right now, actually."
Surprisingly awed by Cha's cuisine, Minho has no other choice than to grumble out a faint agreement. It's no secret that it makes your day.
"But the environment--" Minho shudders, "I think I saw a cockcroach scuttling about in there."
“Oh yeah,” you let your eyes follow the wall and trail back up to him, pointing at his face, “there’s one.”
Shoving you playfully, he pulls out his tongue in such a childish manner you can’t help but burst out laughing.
You decide to take the walk back along the Han River even if it makes a detour, stopping by a coffee shop to grab some hot chocolate. The city lights now illuminate the city like stars scraping the earth’s surface and you can’t help but feel amazed by how beautiful the scenery is, with the wind trickling through your hair and soft music from busking sessions in the background.
“I’ve never actually walked along the Han River before,” you confess to him as you gaze down at the black waters sloshing against the river edge, “thanks, Minho.”
He has the look of a satisfied five year old child who got a gold star for his best behaviour, “you’re welcome.”
“Who knew you’d be the one to bring me here?” You jostle his shoulder playfully before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.
“What’s that you’re implying?” He frowns.
“That you’ve surprised me and my expectations.”
“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” He looks horrified and dramatic, “you’re harsh, Y/N. I’ll have you know, I haven’t—“ he stops himself just in time for you to swoop in and push, “yeah? You haven’t what?”
“Nevermind,” he sips his own drink and you notice the way his ears have turned red.
You giggle, “tell me, have you gone on dates before?”
“Wha—of course I have! What kind of question is that?!” You keep on laughing and laughing at his face, shaking your head as you try and muffle your chuckles the best you can, “oh god—oh my god, you never have. It’s written all over your face—“
“You talk too much,” he mutters into his drink and turns away from you, ears as red as a fire engine.
You nudge him, smiling, loving that side of him that he’s never really shown anyone before. Because you all know the cool, confident Minho. But this, this side of Minho is uncharted territory.
And you’re all here for it.
“Why not, though?”
His eyes narrow as he looks back at you, “what?”
“Why haven’t you brought anyone out before?’ You fidget with your cup, glad that it’s warming your hands so you can busy yourself with something, “because I’ve seen you, with different types of girls. All the time—“
“Yeah that didn’t mean anything.”
“But you still went out with them.”
“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”
“What?” Heat flushes through you, “no, I just—“
That’s when you feel it. His hand, fluttering up to yours. He pries your hold from your cup gently before bringing it down between you, fingers entangling with yours like they’re meant to be there in the first place.
And when your eyes flutter to lock onto his, there’s liquid warmth in those pools of brown, a tenderness you’ve seldom seen before.
“This is new too,” he murmurs then, “all of this.”
Your heart skips a beat. There are no words to be said.
You swallow thickly, look away, and don’t miss the soft chuckle that falls from his lips as he keeps swinging your hands back and forth between you, his smile a permanent fixture on his face. One that your lips mirror faintly as you keep walking back towards your dorms in comforting silence.
———
“Was that romantic enough for you?”
Minho’s question is met with a chuckle from your part as you finally reach your dormitory. A few stray students are still studying deep into the night, some already asleep on the deep blue couches in the common room as you make your way through, hands still entertained from earlier.
Your heart has been skipping and rollerblading into ecstasy ever since.
“Hmm,” you hum, even tilting your head in thought, “guess so. Though if I had any complaints—“
“You wouldn’t tell me, because there aren’t any,” Minho finishes for you, “right?”
“Oh i have plenty, but I’ll keep it for another time,” you flash him a mischievous smile. You’ve reached your corridor by that time, your words causing Minho to shoot you a suggestive look.
“another time?” He repeats with a cock of his brow.
You bite your lip and look away to avoid the fact that there’s a faint, yet growing smile on your face, “yeah. Maybe.”
The said young man’s lips pulls into a small smile, “I can work with that.” He murmurs, and something warm pools in the middle of your chest.
It’s hard to control yourself around Minho especially when he’s not being a little shit. Because the fact is; he’s very enticingly charming and likable.
“Well, that’s me,” you’ve reached your door then, glad that for once your dorm room is free of activity since both your roommates have gone home for the Christmas season, and turn towards Minho.
“Thanks you, for tonight,” your cheeks are warm with heat but you can’t resist grinning up at him, “I had more fun than expected.”
Minho sucks in a dramatic breath, “wow. I think i finally got a compliment out of your mouth.”
“Trust me, that’s me being nice.”
“I know,” he flashes a grin at you and before you know it, his arm has gone up to press against the doorway, caging you in and suddenly making you feel smaller than you are already. His body heat rolls into you in waves, the scent of his boyish cologne making you dizzy as your body leans into him unconsciously.
“So,” he breathes. He’s so close, so close that if you move just a little, your noses would brush, “since I’ve taken you out on a date, do I get to kiss you now?”
Air stills in your lungs. Your teeth find your lower lip.
“It depends,” your whisper is so soft he barely catches it, too enthralled by the way your mouth curves and moves with the words, “will you take me out again?”
“If her highness wishes,” Minho chuckles, tilting his head so that your noses brush. Electricity zaps through your body, goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, “I’ll take you wherever you want.”
Your eyes lock. There’s warmth, want. Desire swimming through his own pools of brown.
“Sounds like a promise,” you breathe, “so when will that—“
“Y/N.”
The way he says your name has a knot tightening in your stomach. Your body tenses in anticipation.
He’s gazing at you as if he’s only just seeing you. His lips are so close, you can feel his breaths on your lips. Hot against cold. He smells divine.
You’re so lost in your own daydream that you respond a few seconds late, “y-yeah?”
“Do me a favor?”
One hand cradles your cheek. You freeze.
“Hm?”
“Stop talking.”
And before you can do anything else, his mouth presses against yours.
Fireworks explode. Behind your eyelids. Through your body. Blood races and your brain goes fuzzy with want and desire as Minho’s other hand wraps around your waist to tug you in, his other hand clasping your jaw firmly as he kisses you. Once. Twice. He’s a good kisser, yet so gentle and tentative.
You’re taken by surprise for a few seconds, before you finally melt into him and kiss him back. A sigh escapes you as your hands go up to wrap around his neck, and the groan of satisfaction he lets out makes your entire nerves buzz with delight.
Tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, longer, you let out a gasp against his mouth as he pulls you even closer still, as if he can’t get enough of you. You haven’t realized you’re pressed to the door until your back meets the hard wood underneath and you yelp softly at the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip to ask for entrance.
He kisses you softly, yet so firmly as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, satiated. His hand at your hip moves up, tracing the back of your spine, the side of your rib cage before brushing against the corner of your bra and making you squirm while your hands curl into his hair. You tug, causing a grumble to echo out of Minho’s chest. His tongue darts in and you part for him like melted butter so that he can kiss you and ravage you without restraint.
Everything falls away, with only Minho being your anchor. You smell him, feel him against you, and want nothing else other than the dizzying rush that makes your stomach erupt with fireflies.
Your mouths part with a pop and he takes this chance to nip at your jaw, littering kisses down your neck before suckling on a soft patch of skin. Your body reacts instantly, curving into him as your lips part in a soft, minuscule moan. That’s enough to snap him back to attention.
He gazes up at you, chest heaving and all heavy breaths. His lips are swollen and red and just so beautiful. Hair tousled like he’s just tumbled out of bed and you quickly decide that’s the look you love best on him.
The curfew bell sounds and he curses.
“Minho,” you murmur when he leans in, noses brushing to capture your lips into his once more. You sigh, eyes falling shut as he takes your next set of words away.
It’s almost as if he’s drunk on you, as if he just can’t get enough.
The thought makes you shiver. Your heart swells with emotion.
“Minho,” you murmur once more against his lips. He groans, pulls away onto to bury his face into your neck and humming, “yeah?”
“Curfew’s in two minutes.”
“I know,” he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses over your collarbone and you can’t help but whimper and cradling his head closer to you despite trying to make sense of your thoughts.
“Y—You should go,” you stutter out but it’s almost like you’re talking to yourself. He’s clearly in his own world, suckling onto your skin and leaving purple marks to claim you as his. He pulls away, groaning appreciatively at the sight you make.
“Do I really have to go?” His dark eyes — darker than you’ve ever seen them — flickers over your features. There’s a kind of hunger to them that makes you shiver.
“Yes,” you stammer out, heart almost bursting out of your chest when the boy merely tugs you close before he rests his head atop yours. He holds you, breaths you in, and your eyes close on their own accord, taking in the moment like it’s the last.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” his whisper grazes the shell of your ear and you shiver. He pulls back and there’s the kind of crooked smile that makes your heart tighten, “goodnight, Y/N.”
“Good night, Minho,” you murmur and dropping a last kiss atop your temple, you watch him walk away, raising a salute with his hand as he does so.
———
A/N: GAHHH IDK WHAT I WROTE AND I GAVE UP AT THE END I HOPE IT’S ALRIGHT BUT ANYWAY I’VE BEEN OBSSESSED WITH MINHO THESE DAYS.
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milfgyuu · 5 months
Text
choi seungcheol is a youtube dad in the way that he would prop up the iPad against the bathroom mirror and try to follow the styling tutorials as he does his daughter’s hair. little baby rubber bands are popping and flying through the air as he tugs them between his teeth because he can’t let go of her hair or the braid will be ruined and when it’s done it’s a little crooked but she loves it and he tries new hairstyles every day just to get better at it and it’s sweet bonding time.
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luvyeni · 5 months
Note
do you think you could do something along the lines of inexperienced!anton again ? maybe this time teaching him how to please you or just smth along those lines. love your blog !
anton lee x fem bodied reader | warnings: 18+ content (mdni!!), oral ( fem. receiving ) | words: 0.5k ~ (510) 🦕ㆍ₊⊹
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You felt your boyfriends leg dip into the bed, he sat in front of you. “Hey baby.” You didn’t bother looking up from your phone, if you did you would’ve notice anton biting nervously at his lip.
“I wanna try and eat you out.” He said out of the blue, your eyes shifted from your device to him. “What?” his face was red; he was a stuttering mess. “Okay, anton, baby calm down.” You said, he sighed.
“we’ll you’ve already helped me out, and I want to be able to help you now.” He said softly. “I don’t mind helping you baby, I like doing it.” He whined out, his hand on your calf. “I-I know, b-but I just want to try.” He said, you nodded. “Okay you can try.” His eyes lit up. “Really?”
He was really eager, quickly reaching for your waist band. “Calm down, let me guide you.” He nodded. “I’m just really excited.” You smiled. “Let me help.” You took your pants off, leaving you in your underwear. “what about your underwear?”
“You do it.” He looked at you confused. “me?” you nodded. “yeah take my underwear off.” He reached for the elastic, pulling them down your leg, his breath hitched upon seeing your cunt. “So pretty.” He whispered.
You made him lay on his stomach, in between your legs. “Now what?” You patted the top of his head. “Let me guide you.” He nodded, you moved his face closer to your cunt, whimpered lowly as you felt his breath on your heat. “Now use your tongue and lick.”
He obeyed, licking a stripe up your folds. “Sh-shit, do it again.” He did it again, then again. “G-good, keep doing that.” He licked at your folds, your taste dripping on his tongue. “Fu-fuck good boy, keep licking.” He smiled, hearing your praise, it encouraged him to keep going. “Shit anton, speed up.”
You moaned as he moved his tongue against your cunt, one of your hands to your boobs, squeezing it. “Oh my god.”
His cock was hard, he tried to keep his hips still, but you tasted so good, your cunt was sweet, and it was addicting. He hummed against your cunt.
“Fuck hand me your hand.” You took his hand, guiding it to your clit. “Use your hand, fu-fuck rub my clit.” His movements were uncoordinated, like he wasn’t bad, but with a little more practice he’d be perfect. “fuck that’s it, right here.” You gasped. “Fuck baby i’m cumming.”
You expected him to move his head, but he didn’t, he kept going, pushing you over the edge, your juices coating the lower half of his face as you came. “Shit.”
He kept lapping at your cunt, you let him for a while until you felt the overstimulation kick in. “fuck baby, a-anton that’s enough.” You pulled at his hair. He forced himself away, breathless and covered in your slick. “S-sorry.”
You waved him off. “it’s okay.” You said, he smiled. “Did I do good?” You nodded, bringing him in for a kiss.
“Perfect.”
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©LUVYENI
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hwatermelons · 6 months
Note
heyyy 🤭 i love love loveee ur ateez writing!! can u do a soft n fluffy bf!ateez when cuddling at night? u can do any writing style u want! <3 thank uuu
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ateez ⋆ cuddling at night with them
⋆ 1.6k words ⋆ bf!ateez x gn!reader ⋆ fluff! so much fluff ^^ ⋆ warnings: lots of close physical contact, face touching and chaste kissing ⋆ a/n: ngl i giggled and kicked my feet while writing this even though it took me forever (i'm so sorry about that;;) thank you sm for the request! also, wooyoung is a history nerd.
╭──────────────────────────.★..─╮
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hongjoong ⋆ art
hongjoong smiles as he runs his fingertips down the side of your face, snuggled into the blanket facing you. when you'd asked him to trace your face to sleep, he'd wondered why anyone would ever want to be touched that closely at first. but when you explained that it was something your parents used to do when you had a nightmare as a child, he was delighted to offer the same level of comfort.
hongjoong outlines the perimeter of your eyes, nose and lips, working his way from the top of your forehead to the tip of your chin. soft kisses follow his fingers. your eyelids grow heavy as he smooths back your hair, tracing each strand from the root to the tip. he's in no rush to finish his masterpiece, and helping you fall asleep in the middle of it is an added bonus.
you were the most fascinating person hongjoong knew, a tapestry woven in five senses. so to him, you deserved his full attention in order to do justice to your likeness. your lover studies the way the way your lashes flutter in your sleep, memorizes the sound of your steady breathing, contemplates the texture of your skin and all its lovely imperfections that give life to your form. if he could, hongjoong would paint a vision of you on the insides of his eyelids so he could see you every time he dreamed. he settles for painting your face instead, the slow movements of his fingers detailing each cherished feature.
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seonghwa ⋆ solidity
seonghwa always loves to surprise you with back hugs during the day, especially with the way you melt into a puddle in his arms every time. so it's no surprise that his favorite way to fall asleep at night is flush against your back, face pressed into your hair and hands holding onto yours, wrapped around you in a tight embrace. seonghwa needs your weight against his chest just as much as you need his solid reassurance behind you. the best part is being able to feel his heartbeat pump out a steady rhythm, the perfect white noise for quieting down any extra thoughts before you fall asleep.
you lean into him, eyes slipping closed. the familiarity of it is impossible not to sink into. seonghwa presses a kiss into your hair as you drift off, his arms a firm reminder that the outside world can't get to you here.
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yunho ⋆ beauty
yunho can't imagine falling asleep in any other way than watching your eyelids droop inches from his face through his own sleepy haze. and that's exactly where you are tonight, just like the night before, and so many nights before that. forgetting about the weight of the world in your lover's arms, even if it's only for a couple hours. unknown to you, however, said lover is currently busy fighting a losing battle in his mind against the urge to shower your sweet, drowsy face in kisses.
yunho sighs. he's been trying so hard to hold back for the past hour. but it's late, and he can't sleep, and more importantly he just can't resist anymore. he leans in and touches your foreheads together, then rubs your nose with the tip of his. in his defense, he can't help it! you're just too adorable to him. but when you open your eyes, he panics.
"ahhh, was that too much? i should've asked--" you interrupt him by pulling him into a tight hug. yunho yelps in surprise as you bury your face into his chest, hiding the rapidly rising blush across your cheeks. "it was perfect," you mumble, the words muffled by the soft fabric of his shirt.
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yeosang ⋆ trust
the only reason yeosang shies away from touching you in public is because that's something he wants to share only with you. it's sacred. to him, physical touch is a promise between two people, that they'll hold on and never let go through all the bad times, and celebrate all of the good together. from a kiss on the cheek stolen by san or wooyoung to a smothering group hug from the other members, yeosang only allows those closest to him to touch him. so when he lets you wrap your arms around him and tuck yourselves into a blanket burrito and smooth back his hair and press kisses to his temples, you know he can finally fully trust you. you smile to yourself as you hear yeosang's breaths even out, your cherished angel slipping into sleep.
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san ⋆ smile
san holds you like he's afraid you'll leave if he doesn't keep up his vice-like grip. to him, there's no such thing as being too close to you. he rarely leaves you completely alone during most of the day, taking the chance to smother you in hugs or kisses whenever you let him at home, and he's always a text away if you two are apart. at night, you're all his, and he loves the fact that you have no escape now. your arms mirror his, wrapped tightly around his waist. but you add your own touch by massaging up and down his spine, earning a soft sigh from him. you can feel his back muscles relaxing through the shiba inu patterned pajamas as he settles his head in between your neck and shoulder, leaving a kiss at the spot he ends up at.
and then san looks up at you with one of those smiles. the ones where his eyes scrunch all the way up but he's too elated to care about how silly he looks (in his opinion, not yours). no matter how long it's been, he still can't believe he gets to see you from this angle every night, the way no one else can.
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mingi ⋆ envelop
mingi physically cannot fall asleep without using you as his personal teddy bear. his favorite way to hold you is with his chin resting on the top of your head. you'd be curled into his chest, and he'd have his arms around you like he can't bear to let any part of you escape his grasp.
your princess adores being able to protect you, to watch over you, to feel needed in such a fundamental way. he kisses the top of your head, and you feel him relaxing into the embrace, the tension leaving his muscles. mingi tries his best to keep his eyes open for you, but ends up drifting off first from your warmth. as you shift into a more comfortable position, he subconsciously pulls you in tighter, soft breaths tickling your scalp.
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wooyoung ⋆ tale
"tell me a story," you probe wooyoung as he lays his head on your stomach. he loves being pampered by you, and he always looks forward to the end of the day for this. his hair is the longest it's been in a while, and you've been absentmindedly braiding and unbraiding sections of it as he replays one particular step of the choreography he and the others had worked on today on his phone. you can tell he isn't nearly as satisfied with it as he wants to be. but it's getting late and inspiration isn't striking him, so he decides to set down the phone and humor your wish.
wooyoung always seems to have some interesting tale to tell, like the adventures of a legendary historical figure, or the origins of a certain korean tradition, or even the story behind the most seemingly mundane things.
tonight's feature is the latest gossip from the servants working behind the closed doors of an ancient prince's private grounds in the Joseon era. apparently, he’d been busy plotting a coup against his father, the king (“right under his nose!”). but it was completely justified because he planned on passing the throne to his youngest son instead of him ("the audacity!"). wooyoung enthusiastically details the bloody fratricides the prince committed ("i'm pretty sure one was enough to send the message??"), eventually scaring his last remaining brother into abdicating the throne after less than a year ("a single year!").
unnoticed by wooyoung, you fall asleep in the first five minutes of his retelling. he goes on for half an hour before he realizes you've started to snore. at first he's half-jokingly offended, but he knows you were exhausted from the long day. still, that doesn't stop him from taking a picture of your face smushed into your pillow for future blackmail purposes, before snuggling up in the sheets with you. you won't be spared from the story over breakfast tomorrow (hey, you asked for it!), but for now he's perfectly content with hooking his arms around you and falling asleep on your chest, careful not to wake you up in the process.
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jongho ⋆ serenade
jongho loves loves loves singing you to sleep. and he loves it even more when you ask him to. from the crook of his arm, you look up at him and softly make your request known. his eyes sparkle in assent, and the gentle hum of 'star 1117' fills the room as he plays with your fingers resting on his chest. you reach up to pinch his cheek, finding him too adorable in this moment, and he makes a face. jongho pinches both of your cheeks harder in retaliation, refusing to let go and chuckling when you swat at his hands. "when i said i'll return all of your love tenfold, i meant it," he teases, fully prepared to smother your face in a bear hug if you dared to acknowledge the cheesiness of his words.
╰─..★.──────────────────────────╯
⋆ likes/reblogs appreciated ⋆ do not repost ⋆ taglist: @gottagetback2u, @mazeinthemiroh
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princesstaeille · 3 months
Text
Ob(li)vious
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summary: taeyong is a really sweet guy, fun-loving, and a treat to be around. he gets along with everyone, everyone who isn’t you. you’re determined to change that.
pairing(s): taeyong x f!reader
genre(s): office!au, fluff, angst
warning(s): miscommunication, self-esteem issues (pls let me know if there are more)
wc: 3.7k
notes: this one goes out to all my rbf girlies ;-;. also inspired by this post. if you enjoyed reading, pls like/reblog and comment! thank you xxx
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Taeyong looks away from his computer and at the stack of papers that landed on his desk with a startling thwack. His gaze trails from the documents to the woman who stares down at him firmly, jaw set, and lips pinched into a tight line.
“I finished the report for you since you hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” You say. “It’s due tomorrow, in case you forgot.”
You tell Taeyong this in the most nonchalant tone you can muster, ignoring the warm sensation in your face that almost feels like burning and the overall spiking body temperature that makes you wonder if someone decided to turn on the heat. You want to play it cool. Be the friendly, outgoing coworker who completes favors for others without prompting and brings a smile to another’s face, much like Taeyong himself. You want to give him that same kind of feeling that he gives to everyone else so badly, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes at him when he begins to…shake?
What? Why is he shaking?
“S-sorry, I must’ve forgotten.”
Sorry? That isn’t what you want to hear. You want to hear him thank you and gaze at you with gratitude sparkling in his eyes and that same sweet little smile he wears when he jokes with others in the break room. But you get an apology instead and no eye contact, and why is he shaking?!
Taeyong’s trembling only seems to worsen, and he looks at you wide with those big brown boba eyes. His mouth opens and shuts as he searches for a reply. “I-I guess I had too much coffee this morning, haha,” he eventually stutters and tries to smile, but all that results is a flimsy grimace.
Shoot. You didn’t mean to say that out loud, much less shout at him. But your gaze hardens as you watch his hands tremble, and you scoff, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as you return to your desk.
Stupid coffee.
“Uh oh, someone’s upset.”
You look up at Jihyo as she sets her lunch down beside you. Joy sits across from the two of you and nods in agreement. They look at you expectantly.
Heaving a sigh, you lift your head out of your arms and sit up completely. “It’s,” you pause and scan the cafeteria for wandering ears before looking back at Jihyo and Joy, “it’s Bubble Tea.”
“Again?” Joy asks and rolls her eyes, “I told you to just talk to him.”
You glare at her suggestion. “You say that like it’s so easy, but every time I try, he acts as if he’s seen a hideous troll and starts quivering in his boots.”
Jihyo snorts and takes a bite into her sandwich while watching you and Joy bicker. She notices how the scowl on your lips stretches, and your brows grow close. She wonders for a second whether she should separate the two of you before you can get any hits on each other. Then it dawns on her.
“Your face is the problem!”
“Excuse you?!”
Joy cackles.
Jihyo clears her throat and shakes her head. “Not like you’re ugly. You’re just…stern.”
“Mean.” Joy teases, and you glare at her once more.
“Your strong will physically shows itself. You have an assertive face.” Jihyo says proudly.
“You have RBF.” Joy clarifies.
“Okay…what should I do then?”
Joy perks up and claps her hands excitedly. “Dye your hair. Purple. Or blue.”
“Maybe change up your style. Wear something cute.” Jihyo suggests.
A frown settles on your lips as you study your current outfit. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?”
“It’s just so…serious. Like you mean business.”
“We work in an office.”
“And?”
You shake your head and steal a chip from Jihyo’s lunch, popping it into your mouth and ignoring her offended gasp. “I don’t think I’ll do that…it’s too much. I want him to like me, not me with purple hair and a new wardrobe.”
Both of them nod understandingly. “Of course,” Jihyo begins, “no point in chasing after someone who doesn’t want you as is.”
“Exactly. Don’t settle for a man who can’t handle your ‘assertive’ facial expressions! Bubble Tea’ll come around if he knows what’s good for him.” Joy winks.
The next day passes quicker than expected, and you already find yourself parting ways with Jihyo and Joy as you walk back to the main office. There are still a few minutes left of lunch, which explains why you see some of your coworkers huddled around Taeyong’s desk.
You hear a few murmurs and giggles that interrupt them and slowly approach the group to see what the fuss is about. 
“So she’s completely oblivious. Just humming to herself as she gets ready to ski. Meanwhile, a massive grizzly bear,” Taeyong pauses and spreads his arms wide, “is just chasing her down, and she has no clue.” 
Everyone laughs in disbelief, and they match Taeyong’s wide-eyed look. 
You observe quietly, basking in the warm, carefree atmosphere from a few feet away. Then you remember a scene from the drama you watched last night, the one where the girl tells the guy a joke that’s entirely too cheesy. Still, he laughs anyway and looks down at her endearingly. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of the same happening to you.
So, you clear your throat and gain everyone’s attention. “Good thing it wasn’t a polar bear,” you say with a smile, “otherwise we’d be hearing this story on the news, haha.”
Crickets.
The smile on your lips falters when you’re met with silence and your coworkers’ looks that call you crazy. Guess they didn’t find it as funny as you did. You glance at Taeyong to gauge his reaction, but he acts like you’re not there, visibly tense and avoiding your gaze.
So, you go back to your desk.
Silence greets you as you walk through your apartment door, cold and lonely as always. You kick off your shoes and leave them strewn messily by the door, throwing your work bag down somewhere near them before making a tired stumble to the kitchen. 
It’s like muscle memory. Reach into the freezer and grab a meal (doesn’t matter which), rip off the cardboard seal and slit (or aggressively stab) the plastic film, and throw it in the mic for five minutes while you wrestle your way out of your white button-up and black high-waisted pants that are a bit too tight but make your legs look nice. 
You turn the TV to channel five, RV News with anchorwoman Bae Joohyun, and sit on the sofa with the piping hot tray in your lap, struggling to maneuver it so it won’t burn your thighs. You eat and stare at the raven-haired anchorwoman speaking about another corner store robbery gone wrong in that gentle honey voice of hers. She drones on about how the perpetrator used a water gun to intimidate the cashier. Still, you’re hardly listening as you wonder how someone can look so flawless, even on your grainy and broken 1986 Panasonic TV. Even the static fuzz that manages to peek through barely obstructs RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun’s ethereal beauty, and you wonder if she’s wearing a wig, hair so perfect with not a strand out of place. You wonder where she bought that lip tint as your teeth snag onto your own.
 Your dinner goes cold, but you don’t notice when you lock eyes with the Kokubu Yurie poster that hangs above your bed. You wonder, as you admire her soft gaze and stylish flare in that red, oversized blazer, you wonder if a sweet song and magical electric guitar riff is what’ll get Taeyong to look at you and finally sweep you off your feet like in all those cheesy dramas you love to watch.
The food in your mouth turns to a sandpapery mush. You sit and wonder if you could cook—if you could make a hot meal, fresh from the oven and not a grocery shelf—if the smell of a home-cooked meal made with love is enough to lead Taeyong to you. 
You wonder if you were more like all the leads in your favorite romances—timid, passive, unassuming—if you had a special twinkle in your eye or softer hair or a prettier smile, if that’s what it takes to enchant him like all the others. The food goes down your throat like gravel. You lose your appetite.
With a heavy sigh, you trudge your way through your bedtime routine and lie down, dreaming of a world where Taeyong doesn’t look at you like a deer in headlights.
Apprehensive eyes stare back at you as you study your appearance from your rearview mirror. Actually, those eyes stare at the bow clipped in your hair that you rummaged through your closet for; you weren’t even sure you had it. It’s a light peach bow, petite, with a white pearl at its center. It was cute enough, you decided at 5 AM when you were really contemplating buying box dye, but it was late and cold and you didn’t feel like getting robbed at water gunpoint, so you had to settle.
Your eyes flit to your lips, which are covered in a shimmery, sheer pink gloss you also found in your closet. You have to tell yourself multiple times not to chew on your lips, but at least they taste like strawberries.
You will away the uncertainty your reflection carries and sternly tell the knot in your stomach to unravel itself. Maybe this isn’t your usual look, but there’s nothing wrong with trying something new. You have nothing to lose, you think with firm resolve. But your fingers still tremble slightly as they smooth out the wrinkles in your outfit and reach for the car handle when you finally force yourself to walk into work.
Once you’re inside, you make a beeline for the break room. You can’t cook, but you can make a mean cup of tea, which has to count for something. The sweet scent of orange and honey wafts into the air once you lift the lid from the cup after steeping, and, with a satisfied smile, you march over to Taeyong’s desk.
You set the cup down and then straighten up. Your proud smile leaves you. You don’t want to be too obvious. “This should help with your shaking,” you state, then awkwardly add, “it’s my favorite.”
Taeyong’s eyes switch between you and the steaming tea beside him, wide with surprise. “Oh..! Thanks..?” He gingerly picks up the cup and takes a cautious sip.
You don’t mean to stare in anticipation, watching his every move, from how his fingers curl around the cup to how his tongue darts out to lick up any stray drops of tea. For a split second, you think you might’ve seen the corners of his mouth twitch upward, but you mistake it for a tremor. 
Taeyong pales at the sight of your clenched fist.
“Drink it all.” You demand, pointing firmly at the cup in his hands.
“Yes—yes, ma’am.” 
You ignore the crack in his voice as you stalk back to your desk. 
The day goes as usual: you finish some paperwork, send out a few emails, and take a few not-so-subtle glances at Taeyong over your bulky computer screen. You’re shocked when you make eye contact a few times, though he always looks away as soon as you do, eyes blown wide like a little doe. But you note that he finished the tea. All of it.
Soon, 7 PM rolls around, and you’re ready to clock out. RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun is waiting for you on channel five. You gather all your belongings and sling your work bag over your shoulder with a small sigh. The lights in the office are dim; most people have already left for home, but you stayed a bit longer to tie up some loose ends. You think you’re the only one still in the office until you notice a warm light coming from one of the desks across from you. 
Taeyong’s desk.
Biting the inside of your cheek only does so much to keep you from imagining this as a perfect moment from a romance drama starring you. You could stay and offer to help, get closer to the guy you’ve been after all this time, and finally have a chat, maybe exchange numbers! Or, you could go home and snuggle up in bed where Kokubu Yurie, your stuffed animals, and RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun wait listlessly to hear you complain about events that are unlikely to occur between you and your office crush, effectively saving you from any embarrassment and ultimately leaving you wondering ‘what if?’
“Hey, um…” you clear your throat as you approach Taeyong’s desk. “Need any help?”
His brown eyes look up at you briefly before returning to the hefty stack of papers before him, and he quickly shakes his head. “Oh, no! I–I got it, you don’t need to—to waste your time—”
Taeyong shuts up when an annoyed huff leaves your lips as you reach over to grab half the stack of papers. 
“I’m doing this half.” You say in a tone that leaves no room for argument, and all Taeyong can do is nod dumbly.
It’s mindless work, and the two of you complete it in silence, slowly whittling down the stack. You barely even notice how you sit beside each other, only a shoulder apart. 
“Hey.” You nudge Taeyong’s shin with the tip of your shoe. “Do you have a sticky note? One of the pages is missing.” You frown.
He doesn’t look up from his stack when he wordlessly hands you a stack of sticky notes. Cinnamoroll-themed sticky notes.
At first, you’re confused. Are…are these his? Did someone give them to him, like a child, or did he buy them with his own money? Your mouth gapes a little, but you're speechless. You draw a blank while the white, chubby puppy stares back at you.
“This…this is so cute.” You laugh, using your hand to cover the smile that spreads across your face. But then you notice the pen, the matching pen. “Oh my god, it writes in blue glitter ink…”
Taeyong glances up from the paper he’s scanning when he sees your shoulders shake from the corner of his eye. He initially thinks you’re crying, and his eyes fill with panic. But then he catches a glimpse of your upturned lips, and his breath hitches.
“...woah.”
“Hm?”
Taeyong finds himself smiling a bit, too. “I just…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that before.”
You stare back at him with a bemused smile and tilt your head. Never seen you do what before? You stop writing on the sticky note when you realize what he means. He’s never seen you smile before or laugh. He’s never seen you express joy. Your smile quickly drops.
What did he think you were? A soulless monster?
A stern glare replaces any softness left in your gaze as you stare down Taeyong’s paling form.
You both go back to working in silence.
It’s close to 9 PM when you and Taeyong finish the paperwork. You stand up from your seat and get in a much-needed shoulder stretch, dreaming of your soft pillow waiting for you at home. Your eyes wander over to Taeyong, who quietly gathers his things and walks toward the elevator. You follow not too far behind.
There’s still an awkward silence that hovers as the two of you enter the elevator, but you don’t mind it much. You spent a whole two hours with Taeyong, just the two of you. Sure, you were completing some tedious and, quite frankly, pointless paperwork that no one else would read. Still, it’s the fact that you both were in a room alone together. In the dark. At night. Together.
You squeal, jump, and dance around your mind like a little schoolgirl, rocking back and forth on your heels. You don’t notice that, in reality, you’re burning a hole into the walls with the intensity of your glare.
And now, you think dreamily, you’re on the elevator together, heading home. Would you hold hands? Would he offer to drive you to your apartment? Would you, maybe…kiss?
All these questions run through your mind one after the other, and you suppress the urge to squeal aloud. You lean over and peer at Taeyong with a small smile when you notice…that he’s huddled in the corner opposite of you. His eyes are glued to the wall beside him as if it’s the most marvelous thing in the world, and he refuses to look at you.
So, no kiss.
“Do you really find me that unattractive?” You note how he immediately flinches at the sound of your voice, and something inside you breaks.
“...what?”
“You won’t even look at me. Am I that ugly?”
The question prompts Taeyong to reluctantly acknowledge your presence. His brows furrow.
A humorless laugh escapes you as you shift from foot to foot. “I’ve…I’ve been trying to get your attention.” You speak with an exasperated sigh and nervous swallow, “I really like you and thought I was being pretty obvious, but you always cower in fear whenever I walk into the room.” You laugh again weakly, this time at how desperate you sound.
Taeyong resembles a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he searches for a reply. “I—I thought you hated me.”
 “Is that why you thought I couldn’t laugh or smile?” You ask defensively.
“Not around me, no.”
“...oh.
I don’t. Hate you, I mean. I really don’t.”
The silence returns, more palpable now, and you can’t help but feel a little stupid. The elevator ding! interrupts your thoughts of self-pity, signaling that you’ve reached the first floor.
The doors slowly open, and Taeyong moves to leave first, but he stops in the doorway and, without glancing back, quietly wishes you “good night.”
You catch your reflection in the closing elevator doors. Your eyes drift to the bow in your hair and the gloss on your lips, and you deflate with a sigh.
Crabby, red eyes glare back at you from your rearview mirror. This time, there’s no petite, light peach bow in your hair for your eyes to fiddle with. You kept the pink gloss, though. You look cute wearing it.
 With your jaw set and lips pinched into a tight line, your so-called ‘RBF’ is so strong that you intimidate yourself a little. At least your scowl tastes like strawberries.
When you walk into the office, you decide you won’t bother with Taeyong anymore. You sit down at your desk and get to work. It’s pointless to keep up with this childish crush, you tell yourself. You also didn’t see him at his desk and wouldn’t be surprised if he quit because of you, not that you cared.
You reach for your cup of tea and let the sweet smell waft into your nose, humming in delight as you take a sip.
Wait.
You didn’t make this.
Taeyong looks away just as your eyes flit up to look at him. He coughs and frowns as if remembering something, then meets your gaze with a sheepish smile.
“Thought I’d return the favor,” he says with a slight shrug. “Also, you’re right. This flavor’s pretty good.”
Once again, you’re speechless. You have to remember to swallow the tea in your mouth before letting your jaw drop because Taeyong, the same guy who tried merging with the elevator wall out of his fear of you, is smiling at you. Is speaking to you without shaking.
And his smile only grows at the sight of your dumbfounded expression. He leaves you there, dazed, and walks away with a chuckle.
Jihyo takes a bite from her salad and chews slowly, eyes locked on you in deep concentration. She watches as you quietly hum to yourself. It's probably another city pop song. She notes there’s something off about you, but she can’t quite place it. Her gaze hardens, and she peers at you a bit closer.
“…are you wearing lip gloss?”
You look up from your lunch and nod, a faint smile on your shimmery, pink lips.
“Alright, what’s going on?” Jihyo throws her hands up in resignation.
You glance between her and Joy with questioning eyes. “What?”
“Don’t play coy with us.” Joy shakes her head and points her chopsticks at you. “Your attitude has completely changed between this morning and now. Just a few hours ago, you looked dead-set on murder, and now you’ve got this dumb grin on your face.”
You scoff and look away from them, waving off their suspicions. “Pfft. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try forcing your lips into a straight line.
“You’re not doing a good job of hiding it.”
“Be quiet.”
Jihyo rests her elbows on the table and folds her hands together, a grave look on her face as she leans in. “She told Bubble Tea.”
“Ugh, finally.” Joy groans in relief. “So you’re dating now?”
“I genuinely have no clue what you’re talking about.” You deny but refuse to look either woman in the eye. Instead, you glance at your wrist and gasp. “Seems we’ve run out of time, ladies. See you tomorrow.” You rush your words while throwing away your trash and dash for the stairs.
“You’re not even wearing a watch!” Joy accuses.
“They grow up so fast.” You faintly hear Jihyo sigh.
They clamber after you, yelling teases and congratulations that earn them a couple of weird looks, but you don’t bother to stop. They follow you all the way back to your desk even though they work on the other side of the building.
“What’d you do, scream at him?” Joy asks. “You think that’s his type of thing?”
“Would you hush?” You push her playfully, eyes nervously glancing around the room, hoping no one else heard that.
“I’m so proud of you.” Jihyo wipes away an invisible tear. “I knew you could do it.”
You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing like that happened. We just…talked.”
“Like I told you to do in the first place?”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” you say and sit down, your shoulders sagging slightly at the thought. You prepare to return to work and reach for a file but freeze. There’s a sticky note on your desk. A Cinnamoroll-themed sticky note.
Gingerly bringing it up to your eyes, you, Jihyo, and Joy read what’s written in blue glitter ink. 
It’s a phone number. 
Let’s get to know each other better :)
- L. TY
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thank you so much for reading! please leave a like and a comment. reblogs are appreciated too!
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flwrkisses · 5 months
Text
boyfriend! sunghoon.
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been a while hasn't it? recently got very inspired to write for the enhypen boys so here we are!— hope you guys enjoy!
genre: fluff, established relationship.
warnings: slight mentions of arguments, skinship & kissing.
❀˖° heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon, sunoo, jungwon, niki.
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- your first date was 100% to an ice rink. it's sunghoon's one and only big move when he likes someone, he wants to impress them and show off his crazy figure skating skills... even if you've never ice skated in your life and fall on your ass trying to keep up with him.
- the ice rink was also an excuse to hold your hands to make sure you wouldn't fall and get hurt.
- he'd probably take you out on 5-7 dates before he feels comfortable enough to ask you to be his partner.
- as your boyfriend sunghoon loves to tease you, especially if you're younger than him. he shows affection by poking fun at and teasing people close to him.
- "hey loser :)" texts all the time, out of love tho.
- he loves it when you tease him back. he absolutely loves it when you can keep up with him with jokes and build that playful tension. its probably why he fell for you in the first place.
- your first kiss with him was probably very quick, a nervous peck after one of the dates. his cheeks probably got red once he pulled away. he honestly thought he was terrible.
- now the kisses you guys share are so sweet. often times they're a quick peck in passing but when the time is right, sunghoon loves to give you sweet breath taking passionate kisses.
- sunghoon is the type to tell you it's cold, to hint at the fact you need a jacket. because he's not going to straight up tell you that he's worried you'll get cold. so when you don't get his hint, he'll bring one of his own extra jackets to give to you.
- "you don't bring a jacket because you don't wanna carry it later on, but— you get cold and take my jacket which then leaves me freezing... and what kind of boyfriend would i be if i let you freeze? so, yes! i'm bringing you a jacket so we both can be warm and be comfortable. good? great."
- he's also the type to see you struggling with opening something and would wordlessly reach over and do it for you.
- for example you're struggling to open a water bottle and he watches you struggle for a little before taking it from your hands, opening it, and handing it to you while looking away.
- you will never catch him, but he looks at you fondly all the time. even in public, he can't help it.
- he's definitely not a pda guy, he says it makes things much more intimate to kiss and hug in private. he also doesn't want the rest of the enhypen boys to tease him for being so sickly sweet to you.
- one thing he loves however, is holding your hand. in all ways he loves holding your hand even if you're sitting next to each other.
- something you notice when he's around his either sit close enough to you so your arms are brushing against each other or stand close enough for some type of physical contact, but thats about it when it comes to pda.
- he just isn't someone who feels the need to be all over you all the time. he has nothing to prove to anyone, nor does he ever feel threatened by other people. in fact he makes fun of couples that are weirdly all over each other in public.
- he doesn't get jealous often, however he is very protective of you and would rather people mind your personal space.
- if someone goes to touch your hand, or stands too close sunghoon would instinctively put himself between you and this person or move you out of the way.
- he is slightly possessive however, he would never admit it. however something in him lights up when you tell him you're his.
- he's a good guy to your friends too, he sees they're important to you so he takes them into account before doing things as well.
- like one night you and your friends decided to go out and sunghoon tagged along. he noticed that some random guy was bothering a friend of yours and making them uncomfy so without much thought he would go over to pull your friend back to the group and stare down the guy enough to hope he wouldn't come around your group again.
- he pretends not to remember or know important dates like your anniversary or birthday, but somehow you always wake up on that special day with a present at the foot of your bed from him.
- if you get sick he'll tease you about it at first but eventually will take care of you. he'd chuckle about how your voice sounds when you're congested and say "ewww" when you blow your nose.
- he would probably wait for you to tell him you love him first regardless of if he feels it first or not. sunghoon would hate to say that he loves you first and you not reciprocate, so he would wait for you to say it first for him to confirm he feels the same.
- saying "i love you" makes him shy, especially with how easily you are able to say it. he blushes a little each time he hears it.
- he probably mumbles his "i love you"s or sometimes just responds with "me too" because he's just too shy to actually vocalize it.
- sunghoon secretly likes praise, so tell him he's handsome and that he looks nice.
- although he's not a cuddler, if you sat on his lap while he played games his whole body would melt.
- texting would be pretty big with him actually. i see him leaving his members on read while responding to your messages fairly quickly.
- while he's on tour, he'd call you on facetime while he's in bed to mumble about how much he misses you and wants to be with you.
- in an argument regardless who's at fault, he would probably sit in silence and listen to everything you have to say. he's not really someone to fight with you, he simply wouldn't put energy into it which could be pretty annoying. he doesn't articulate his thoughts extremely well so sometimes it might seem like he doesn't care or is blocking you out.
- however fights are pretty rare considering how much you guys actually talk things out and how long he thinks about things.
- he honestly is so happy staying home and watching movies with you, ordering take out and staying in.
- doesn't mind going out for dates too. probably takes you on shopping dates, walks in the park, spa dates, trying restaurants, and ice skating of course.
- he has you make decisions for him since he's so indecisive. if he doesnt know what shirt to buy he asks you and goes with what you tell him. if you want to eat something he goes along with it and begs you to never make him choose anything ever.
- sunghoon has a folder on his phone of just candid pictures of you. he thinks it's cute, plus he's kinda become an expert in sneaking cute photos of you on dates.
- believe it or not, he spoils you quietly. things he notices you're running out of or need he'd buy you and quietly put them in their spots. it would take you a while to even notice he was doing that.
- you know he would never admit it, but his favorite part of his days are the days where he's able to come home to you and sleep with you in his arms.
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hope you enjoyed! — yes i am writing for enhypen now...
leave me a request in the ask box!
©flwrkisses ; please do not copy, translate, repost and/or reuse my work without my permission.
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559 notes · View notes
starvity · 1 month
Text
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— ☆ domestic things with zb1
gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)
genre: fluff, drabble // warnings: none? - just a bunch of cute little things you'd experience while dating the jebi boys <3
author’s note: happy valentine's day ˚୨୧⋆。♡ the tiniest drabbles written between two classes :') (★ω★)/
ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong
stroking his thumb against your cheek. lending you his jacket. winking at you shamelessly. buying coffee and pastries while you’re still sleeping. braiding your hair. making sure you don’t bump your head against any surface.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao
head pats and soft smiles. talking for hours in a cafe. linking pinkies. sleeping with his hands all over your face. kissing your nose when you pout. playing the violin for you on facetime. buying you flowers. movie marathons.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin
wrapping his scarf around your neck. forehead kisses. picking you up after work. buying you jewellery. road trips with sunglasses and his hand on your thigh. linking arms. random calls throughout the day to say i love you.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew
working out together. or whatching him. flirting when you shouldn’t. putting a strand of hair behind your ear. remembering your order by heart. resting his hands on your hips. using your stomach as a pillow. stargazing.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae
singing back to you in the shower through the door. trying new food together. nuzzling his nose in your neck. putting little flowers he picked in your back pocket. mumbling good night just before falling asleep.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky
pampering you with kisses after a long day. doing your makeup or hair. carrying your bag for you. smiling against your lips. good morning texts. slow dancing in the kitchen. watching the sunrise.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin
calling you to make sure you’ve eaten. tying your shoelaces. poking your arm for attention. biting your cheeks out of affection. walking you home from school. neck kisses. lazy sunday mornings.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook
ducking down to your height to ask for kisses. accompanying you to class. bear hugs. resting his head on your shoulder. bringing you cut up fruit and your favorite drink.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin
poking your nose. slipping a snack into your bag. hand kisses. sharing earbuds. playing video games with you and letting you win. making sure he walks on the road part of the sidewalk.
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