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#n its e2l
chryblossomjjk · 1 year
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jksian · 4 months
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Rivals in flight (m) |JJk
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Navigating the challenges of adjusting and studying as a commoner amidst insults from the nobility was tough, but, the struggle only intensified when the fellow dragon rider, Jeon Jungkook, who took so much pride upon his status and abilities, became a formidable enemy and the ultimate pain in your ass. What did you do then? Simple. You started fucking him.
Pairing: dragon rider!Jungkook x dragon rider!oc
Genre: forbidden love, fantasy, e2l, ewb (enemies with benefits? lmao), smut, angst (18+)
W/c: 5k+
Warning: okay so... Jungkook is a jerk in it, noble Jungkook x commoner reader= chaos!, jk called her names (love, phoenix, SLUT), school bullies, arguments and fights, Enter Namjoon!!, oral sex in a semi-public place, hair pulling, grinding, fingering, ass spanking like for twice, he eats her out in a library🫣, edging, orgasm denial, cum eating, they are kinda toxic but it'll be okay later IF I EVER MAKE IT INTO A SERIES🥹
A/n: It's finally here!! This is my first ever fic so I hope y'all will like it! I know that e2l meant to be slow burn and it will be the same if I make into a series but I'm not so sure about that:⁠,⁠-⁠) Like, do you guys want me to turn this into a series?
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“Aster, ascend! Use ‘astral radiance’ on them now!” You commanded. The dragon respond with graceful flight, scattering the shadows with pulsating waves of celestial energy with his power.
Jungkook’s dragon again surged a series of shadowy entity, a relentless onslaught aimed towards you. You didn’t even had enough time to recover from the previous attack before you see a cloak of darkness approaching you.
“Screw you, Jeon Jungkook.”
As both of you resumed in a blaze of magic and motion, each command from Jungkook and you echoing through the air.
Eythor and Asterlith soared high above the arena where the game is going on, their wings slicing through the enchanted currents with a thunderous flap.
You guided Asterlith through a series of evasive spins and turns, “Defend! Unleash bursts of celestial energy to dispel the shadows!” That burst of energy created a celestial barrier, disrupting the shadowy figure.
The sky became a canvas for elemental clash. Shadows and celestial radiance intertwined, creating a mesmerizing dance that captivated the onlookers in the grandstand.
You heard Jungkook’s voice, a command filled with determination as the word ‘attack’ reverberates through the arena. Soon, you see a shadowy tempest raising above the ground, big enough to engulf the whole arena in its darkness. The intensity of it makes you a bit wary.
You, however, remained steadfast, “Aster, illuminate the sky and repel the encroaching shadows.”
You can hear the heavy breath from your dragon, as he tries his best remain solid in the fight. He had already used so much of his power that its getting harder for him to continue using constellations energy.
You rubs his neck, tried to calm his nerves and encouraged him, “I know you’re tired, baby, but please just a little more. Could you do that for me?”
You ask softly as he nodded at you. He gathered as much as energy as he can, his celestial radiance intensified, pushing back against the looming darkness.
The crowd below watched with bated breath as the clash of flight and attack unfolded.
The Dragon Duel had reached a crescendo, the clash of shadows and celestial radiance weaving a mesmerizing tapestry in the skies above Syndril. However, as the intensity of the battle grew, an unseen force intervened.
The authorities of the Wings academy, recognizing the escalating magical energies and potential consequences, decided to halt the duel for the safety of all involved.
“Cease the duel, right away!”
A resounding voice echoed through the arena, as you and Jungkook momentarily caught in the ebb and flow of the magical currents, reluctantly reined in your dragons, their energies already subdued but still resonating with the remnants of the fierce battle.
“This clash of powers has reached a level of intensity that poses a threat to the safety of the participants and spectators, so we have to dismiss the game at this very moment.” As the principal of your academy announced.
As the authorities assessed the situation, a magical barrier shimmered into existence, enveloping the arena. It served not only to contain the remnants of the magical energies but also to signal the temporary halt of the sports day.
Jungkook and you, both atop your respective dragons, when you shared a glance with him, you clearly saw a mixture of frustration and anger in it. You shrug it off as you saw a representative of the authorities stepped forward, addressing the dragon riders and the assembled audience.
“The Dragon Duel shall be temporarily suspended. We will assess the situation, ensuring the safety of all involved. Further instructions will be provided once we are confident in resuming the event.”
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In the ethereal expanse of Syndril, where dragons painted the skies with hues of mystique, the art of dragon riding was a privilege bestowed upon the chosen few, a regal tapestry woven for the noble and royal alike. The intertwining destinies of rider and dragon transcended mere power, forming a sacred covenant that echoed through the ages.
In the middle of Syndril’s heart, there stood a grand place called the ‘Dragon Keep’, a living testament to the ancient bond shared between the realm’s sovereigns and the winged custodians that adorned the heavens.
Throughout the annals of history, dragons have been formidable companions on the battlefield, their majestic forms serving as both a symbol of power and a devastating force. Since ancient times, these mythical creatures have been harnessed as instruments of war, their scales reflecting the glint of conquest and their breath embodying the fire of conflict.
But, as the time goes, dragons become companion and more of a friends to the humans as the bond between two becomes more strong.
In Syndril, the training of dragons was a vital necessity rooted in the intricate balance of power, protection, and tradition. But, only the nobles were allowed to have a companion such as mystical creature.
To provide such directions and train the dragon in a proper manner, the ancient of this land made a dragon rider academy named ‘wings academy’, where people from royal blood and noble families can train and study with their dragons.
There are few reputed dragon houses in the kingdom, famous for their Excelled skills and magnificent magic, from the ancient, these are the elite houses which has been serving this kingdom from ages.
Each of this houses carries unique abilities and distinct attributes that contributed to the kingdom’s intricate tapestry.
The first one is Eythor from the house Shadowthrone, famous for its mastery over shadows and illusions, possessed a unique and elusive power. Its ability to manipulate darkness and create intricate illusions made it a formidable force in both stealth and strategic deception. Ruled by the Jeons, highest member of the royal council. It is rumored that the only people who build this entire Kingdom and found out about it was, The Vilothorn’s and Jeon’s.
Next one is known as the house of stoneheart, famous for possessing the power of earthquake and stone manipulation, ruled by Kim’s.
The house of inferno is famous for harnessing the power of heat manipulation. There ability has become a relentless force of searing destruction on the battlefield, ruled by Park’s.
In contrast to the previous house, the house of Frostland is famous for its capability to freeze opponents with its breath and control ice in various forms, ruled by Min’s.
The house of Skydancers ruled by Jung’s, has the ability to dominate the skies with its mastery over air manipulation and flight agility.
And, once-extinct dragon, has been reborn again, now found by a commoner girl. Asterlith’s wings were said to carry the very essence of celestial realms, now under the care of you. A creature emerged with scales that radiated with the brilliance of a thousand constellations became a living testament to the resurgence of magic and the rekindling of ancient bonds between dragon kind and those destined to ride upon their majestic backs, and now, you become one of them.
A commoner in the academy where she will study alongside other aristocrats were something not acceptable. ‘only the noble are allowed to ride a dragon’ was like a tradition which now has been broken by you.
“Your Majesty, with all due respect, Wings academy has been a fortress of nobility for centuries. This departure from tradition may disrupt the delicate balance that has safeguarded our realm.” Lord Liam voiced his concern in front of the gathered noble in the chambers of Syndril’s royal court.
Lord Jeon, the most trusted component of king Leo and an expert diplomat interjected, “Yet, Your Majesty, the magic that binds ___ and Asterlith is undeniably potent, not to mention that she is the chosen one by Asterlith himself. Are we to dismiss the weaving of destiny itself?”
Conflicting ideologies echoed through the walls of the royal court as each person tried to justify their opinion. Some nobles, entrenched in their adherence to tradition, cast disapproving glances, while others, inspired by the possibility of a new era, nodded in silent approval.
A decision was reached—a groundbreaking one that defied the norms of Syndril. King Leo then announced that everyone must accept this new norm and welcome you into the, once only for the nobles, Wings academy. You, the common girl, would be permitted to study at the Royal Dragon Rider School alongside the nobility was the new rule passed through out the kingdom.
But, you weren’t warmly welcomed by the other students at the school neither.
You found yourself facing the cold glares and condescending whispers of those who clung tightly to the rigid norms of Syndril. The nobility, accustomed to a lineage that stretched across generations, viewed your presence as a disruption to their established order.
Despite that, you continue your training regardless. At least, those insults weren’t as unbearable as Jeon Jungkook.
The second son of Jeon house, Jungkook, a formidable presence in the mystic realm of Syndril’s, is an embodiment of unparalleled power and prowess.
Jungkook’s physical prowess is akin to a tempest, an unstoppable force that commands attention.
His martial skills, honed through rigorous training, transform him into a living weapon.
His strategic acumen, a calculated dance of intellect and intuition, adds a layer of sophistication to his formidable persona.
Not only talented but, Jungkook is a magnetic paradox himself, a living canvas painted with ink and adorned with piercings that echo the rhythm of rebellion.
His onyx locks, a rebellious dance against tradition, frame a countenance that carries the weight of both legacy and defiance.
With a set of piercing eyes, a deep brown that reflects both determination and a hint of arrogance, Jungkook’s gaze is both intense and captivating. His brow piercings increases the intensity of his gaze even more.
Upon his strong arms, a tapestry of tattoos unfolds, each design a narrative etched in ink- The motifs, stark against his fair skin, trace the contours of muscles that hint at a strength not easily contained.
Beneath the hardened exterior, however, lingers the paradox of a “baby-faced” warrior. Jungkook’s soft features, though sculpted by the passage of time and the rigors of dragon rider training, retain a youthful charm that defies the graveness of his responsibilities.
Here, Jungkook writes a story of contrasts, where tradition and rebellion dance together in a spellbinding harmony.
Yet, him being loved by almost the whole population of the kingdom, you found yourself loathing him.
The animosity that grew between you two, emerged from a combination of conflicting backgrounds, divergent ideologies, and a clash of personalities.
Jungkook carried the weight of familial expectations and traditions. His reserved demeanor and arrogant nature often set him apart, earning him both respect and an air of intimidation.
You, on the other hand, hailed from more humble origins, your ascent to the esteemed academy marked by determination and an unyielding spirit.
You both fought for recognition in the academy, often led to arguments marked by sharpe words, competitive duels, palpable tension and mutual hatred for each other.
The hatred grew over the years as well as the thick sexual tension between you two. The irresistible attraction you both feel towards each other is unexplainable but not-so-hidden either.
The aftermath of the halted Dragon Duel left the arena in an eerie silence, the tension was thick in the air.
As, all the students got dismissed by the school authorities, everyone stared entering the school and going back to their respective dorms.
You were walking alone as usual towards your dorm when you heard a very familiar and annoying voice of the male you hate so much, “This intervention was unnecessary. We could have settled it ourselves.”
Jungkook, his usually reserved demeanor now tinged with visible annoyance, broke the silence at last. His voice reverberates through out the hollowed hallway, making everyone pause in their movements.
You, equally agitated, responded sharply, “Your arrogance is truly astounding, Jungkook. The authorities stepped in to prevent a catastrophe, something you seem oblivious to.”
The venom In your voice evident and not much hidden from anyone present there. People gathered around you, saw the argument unfolding in front of them.
Jungkook’s patience worn thin, he retorted, “You act as if you know everything. This clash was an inevitable part of our training. We can’t shield ourselves from every challenge!”
He was being absurd with whatever statement he was stating. His pride was taking a toll on his thinking ability clearly.
You were beyond annoyed with his obliviousness when you shot back, “Training, yes. But, not at the risk of endangering everyone around us. Your recklessness is a danger, and it reflects poorly on House Shadowthrone.”
You heard a few gasps around you, people were surprising with your choice of words. You saw their eyes gone wide upon hearing you pulling house shadowthrone into this argument.
Jungkook was enraged, if he wasn’t a human but a dragon, he should have breathed fire and burned you to the ashes once and for all.
He snapped back, “You act as If your celestial ideals make you infallible. This interruption only proves your inability to handle the challenges and run away from them. I chose the perfect name for you, didn’t I? Phoenix? Rise from the ashes without any ability and prowess–,” he stepped a bit closer to you, burning holes into your face with his Sharpe eyes as he said, “You belong to the slums and should stay there.”
His insulting words pierced through your heart and ignites a intense rage which you were unable to handle, “I’m not afraid of challenges, Jeon Jungkook from the house of Shadowthrone.” You said mockingly, “I just refuse to let arrogance and recklessness guide my actions unlike you. We must be responsible for the consequences of our powers.”
Soon, the onlookers, divided by loyalties, began to interject with verbal insults and jeers. A supporter of Jungkook, emboldened by the mounting tension, shouted, “Jungkook’s strength lies in action, not in empty words and celestial theatrics. Your ideals won’t protect us when the real challenges come.”
People found amusement in them as they begun to laugh at you. You were standing alone there, with no one by your side but yourself, helpless but still defending yourself.
You countered with determination, "Strength without responsibility is a liability, not an asset. We need more than brute force to navigate the complexities of our calling."
You heard a ‘tsk’ from Jungkook as he kept on glaring at you. The voices in favor of Jungkook gained momentum, echoing sentiments of tradition and House Stonethrone storied legacy.
You saw Ivy Drakaron, one of the nobles who happened to be your fellow classmate, smirking at your direction and quite enjoying you being insulted in front of thousands of people, whispering provocative remarks to those around her and laughing along with it.
“Your supposed ‘responsibility’ is nothing but an excuse for your lack of prowess. Syndril needs dragon riders who can face challenges head-on, not ones who cower behind ideals.” Jungkook spits venom from his mouth at you, and this time, it was enough for him to break your hard exterior which you were maintaining carefully and brought tears to your eyes.
With glossy eyes, you glare at his direction and this time, he looked quite surprised and speechless.
Kim Namjoon, senior of yours, belongs to the house of Stoneheart attempted to mediate, stepped forward, “Calm down, both of you, Jungkook and ____. Our unity is paramount, and personal disputes must not undermine the cohesion of Syndril’s dragon riders.”
He had always been the mediator whenever you two started quarrelling in the middle of nowhere. Being the president of the student community, he had all the abilities to be the perfect leader, still, you both made him afraid with your intense fights, so much so that he became tired. He referred himself to an old man because, according to him, he will soon become bald, if he had to continue taking care of you two anymore.
You thought, he might stop with his hateful remarks after seeing your cracked demeanor, it was clear that you were hurt but he didn’t stopped. Jungkook, unwilling to yield, shot a disdainful look at you, "Unity does not mean blind conformity. Your idealistic notions jeopardize the very essence of our training."
“And your recklessness jeopardizes lives. I won’t compromise the safety of our dragon rider community for the sake of your misguided ideals.”
Before the tears descended from your gaze, you departed, no longer willing to endure the ceaseless barrage of disparagement.
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You were alone in the library at night, when you sensed an elusive presence that stirred the tranquil air.
It wasn't that the library was open at night, you often snuck in there from a secret path, finding the atmosphere of the silently library amusing, it became one of your nightly endeavours.
The muted glow of lanterns cast intricate shadows on the ancient bookshelves, creating an ambiance that heightened your awareness.
As you delicately turned the pages of an age-worn tome, the subtle rustle of paper seemed to echo louder in the stillness… An inexplicable awareness tingled at the nape of your neck, compelling you to glance over your shoulder.
Despite the initial surprise after seeing the figure that stepped into the pool of dim light, you decided to mask any reaction, adopting an air of nonchalance.
Because, you knew who it was.
You continued your perusal of the ancient tome, deliberately chose to ignore his presence.
Jungkook, sensing the deliberate indifference, cleared his throat as he leaned on the table in front of him.
You just gave a quick glance at his direction before continue your reading. You saw Jungkook’s eyes aglow with the flickering candlelight, he looked…handsome. You might fall in love if it weren’t for his arrogant nature.
“Seems like you’re quite fond of conversing with seniors. Is that how commoners like to elevate their status?”
There he goes again. Why can’t he keep his mouth shut?
Wait…why he is asking that?
It’s nothing like you both share a loving relationship, far from that. You both hated each other but despite the hatred, the burning desire and the tentative lust for each other was unexplainable.
The magnetic pull that neither of you could deny, at last gave in.
The first time he fucked you was the time, when you came in the second position of your test.
The rule was simple. The winner must take the lead.
It was quite exquisite seeing Jeon Jungkook squirming under your touch when you tied him up and kept him on the edge until he was begging underneath you, because he lost to you in a game of chess.
It was only this ‘physical’ relationship between you two besides the rivalry. So, why he sounded… jealous?
Nonetheless, you were quite enjoying it when you donned a smirk in response to Jungkook’s probing gaze. “Oh, didn’t realize my choice of conversation partners was under such intense scrutiny –,”
You moved towards the bookshelf beside Jungkook to grab an another ancient tome as you continued, “Namjoon? Just discussing the intricacies of life, you know, the stuff that doesn’t make it into noble conversations.” your words, laced with sarcasm, floated through the library.
You did had a conversation with Namjoon earlier, about the incident that happened before. He was worried about you. So, it was a normal decent conversation.
“ –also he was worried about my wellbeing.” You said as your fingers idly tracing the spines of the books. The calmness in your tone unwittingly added fuel to the simmering fire.
Jungkook’s jaw tenses, he retorted, “Seems like you’re building quite the support system among the nobles, ____.”
His constant insults only proves your theory further more, “It’s called having friends, Jeon Jungkook. Maybe you should try it sometime.” You subtly threw a smirk at his way before minding your own business.
This time, when you tried to move away from the spot you were standing, you felt a strong arm pulling you backwards.
“What friendship, ____? Where you fuck them?” His face was closer to yours, his warm breath hitting your face. You looked up at him and saw a intensity in his eyes you’ve never seen before.
“Why do you care? Huh?” You stood firm on your toes, “That’s .None. Of. Your. Business!”
“It is. Because, I’m the only one who fucks you.”
He clenched his jaw, a subtle tension lingered in the air. You didn’t knew why he was acting the way he was acting, so you tried to push your body away from him.
It wasn't like it’s any of his business. You can have any kind of relationship with anyone, he was no one who could tell you otherwise. His oddly possessive behavior made you irritated further more.
“J- Jungkook –,” You tried to pull your hand out of his grip and pushed him back. Your hand was on his chest, you felt his muscles tenses under your touch, “–let go of my hand.”
Instead of doing that, he pushed your back onto the table beside you, caging your hands behind your back as your butt hit the edge of the table.
He didn’t said anything, just looked at your eyes with the same intensity and something your couldn’t decipher.
“Let me go!” You whisper-shouted at him.
“Kiss me and I will.”
You eyes widened at his words as you saw a devilish smirk on his face. He was clearly messing up with you. You pushed against him again, but he settled his one leg in between your thighs, further confining you in that position.
“Fuck off!” You retorted, annoyance etching your words.
In response, he countered with a smoldering gaze, “I shall if you ask nicely.”
His face more closer to yours, lips brushing against each other and the leg between your thighs slightly grind against your throbbing cunt, making you whimper in the process.
You didn’t held back yourself anymore as you smacked your lips on his.
As your lips collided, an intricate ballet of conflicting emotions played out. You sucked on his lips harder, so much so that it might leave brushes behind but he didn’t restricted you.
You heard him growl under his breath when you latched on his lower lip and pulled it down with your teeth.
You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was like you were hypnotized.
“I hate you.” You said in-between the kiss and he instantly responded, “The feelings are mutual.”
The intensity of the kiss grew even more when he grabbed your one leg, wrapping it around his waist. You could feel his boner right against you.
You grind on it, eliciting a hiss from him, moaning when you feel him growing harder underneath those clothes.
He deepened the kiss further, pushing further into your body. His hands comes down to your butt as he squeezes it.
Both of your tongue moved in a symphony, making you weak on your knees.
Then you did something. You grabbed his long locks in attempt to push in your tongue inside of his mouth but, in return, you received a harsh slap on your ass, along with a bite on your lower lip.
“Don’t even try, love.”
The moan that escaped from your mouth should be illegal, because the way Jungkook’s cock twitched and jumped in respond to that made him moan into your mouth.
You feel a gush of arousal approaching just from the name he called you. You knew he called you that mockingly but the things it does to you…it would rather be better if no one knows about that.
Pulling your head backwards by your hair, he started kissing your neck , leaving trails of colorful masterpieces on his way.
A reminder for you about your secret, which no one knows but you, the walls of these library and the man sucking your tits.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet.” The sounds you were making, was obscene. He twirls his tongue around your hardened bud, harshly sucking on it. Two of his fingers makes its way towards your throbbing pussy.
“You aren’t wearing any panties?” You didn’t understand why he was in disbelief. It’s night time, so, wasn't it obvious?
“Yes, because I was going to bed, you stupi–,” you gasped when he suddenly pushed his one finger inside, making you clench around it.
“Watch your mouth, love, or I might shut you up with something else.”
That jerk!
Before you could threw some insulting remarks towards him, he turned you around abruptly and made you spread your leg wide. You found support on the table in front of you, as you gripped on the edges of it for some support.
He pulled your nightgown all the way up to your waist. You couldn’t saw him in the dim light, but you felt the heat of his burning desire.
The library's dim light cast shadows that played upon the canvas of your unspoken desires.
You felt his fingers on your thighs as they tentatively draw patterns on your smooth skin, as he kissed your inner thighs, making you shut your eyes from the overwhelming sensations.
When you did looked back, you saw Jungkook on his knees as he fondle your ass feverously, his intense gaze focused on your soaking pussy.
“Wandering around like this? You are a little slut, aren’t you?” You mewl when he placed a kiss on your clit, so soft that you just felt the ghost of his lips but it was enough for you to threw your head back.
Without a warning, he started sucking you clit, twirling his tongue all over your cunt as if he just found his favorite desert.
“My little slut, only mine. Right, love?”
He was settled in between you thighs, both your legs on his shoulder.
When you look down on him, he was smirking at you while devouring your pussy like a starve man.
The subtle eye contact ignited something in you, he made you feel things you shouldn’t felt. The forbidden sense of this makes it more appealing as you couldn’t help but drawn to the this unspoken game of lust and desire.
You screw your eyes shut, gripping the table as you prepare yourself for the upcoming orgasm.
He brought his fingers to your clit and started rubbing it in a crisscross way while his tongue goes inside of you, fucking you on his tongue.
As soon as that hot muscle entered, you moaned out his name, unable to control yourself, your essence dripping all over his mouth as he kept on rubbing and tugging your clit with his fingers while his tongue explores your warm walls as he found that spot which made your brain numb.
And, he knew it.
He smirked when you gripped on his men bun, shoved his face further into pussy as you grind on his face, desperately chased you release.
He kept on hitting that spot until you were a whimpering mess, but as soon as he felt your orgasm approaching, he pulled back altogether.
The whine that escaped your mouth was desperate. Embarrassing. But, you didn’t care.
“What the fuck?”
“I asked you a question, didn’t I?”
Asshole.
He wanted you to admit, to submit to him. Admitting that you’re his, had always been a struggle for you. Why would you though, when you weren’t his? You never understood his obsession with making you admitting that.
It must be some sick power play for him, you thought.
“I’m not saying it, because I’m not yours.” You firmly stated, glaring down at him.
His eyes further hardened from the previous half lidded one, “Let’s see for how long you can stick to that.”
Again he goes back to his work, this time more rougher than before.
Every time, you came closer to your release, he pulled back and made you squirm in his hold.
At the last thrust of his tongue, you cried out, your cries resonated through out the empty hall of the library. You instantly slapped your hand over your mouth.
“Come on, love. Say it if you want to cum.”
He was determined about leaving you then and there, hot and messy with your dripping cunt if you weren’t tell him the words he wanted to heard. His stubbornness and competitive nature wasn’t anything new to you.
He again brought his hand to your abused pussy, but this time, he put his fingers in it while sucking on your pulsating bud, occasionally tugging and biting the bundle of nerves, making you go insane.
“Fuck. Please, please Jungkook, let me c-cum,”
You voice was whiney, your broken cries made his cock twitch in his pants once again, making him growl into your heat.
“Then say it –,” He smacked your ass, his teeth dragging all over your throbbing clit before tugging and sucking on it harshly, “Say that you’re mine.”
You gripped onto his hair, tugged on it as your thighs stared trembling along with your whole body, you were close.
This time, you gave up.
You pleaded to him, chasing your release once again.
“No no, O-okay, please I’m yours, I’m yours, jus–Just lemme cum.”
“Then, cum for me but look at me when you do. I wanna see your face”
You obliged without any obligations. You looked down at him, staring into his eyes as you saw his brows pinched together as his lips attached to your clit, while thrusting his fingers inside you as you cum around them, made them soaking wet with your essence, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as he watched your blessed out face with a smile on his face.
He didn’t stop though, until he drunk all of that you gave to him, slurping your essence, leaving you dry.
He was back on his toes as he turned you around. Your legs still trembling from the intense orgasm and overstimulation, he held you, encircled his hand around your waist and made you sit on top of the table.
You could see his face glistering with your essence, shining under the dim light, his piercing eyes staring at your soul as you saw he licked his lips with his half-lidded eyes and tousled hair from you gripping and tugging on it.
He was so hot that you didn’t knew if you wanted to kill him or kiss him.
He made it easier as he put his fingers in his mouth, sucking your essence of off it, then pulling you into a kiss.
An electric charge rushes through you as it seemed to dance across every inch of your body. You gasped, when you tasted your own cum on your tongue.
You were out of breath when he detached his lips from yours, both of you tried to breath in some air while you thought what the fuck you just did?
When he tried to caress your cheeks, you pushed him back, made him bewildered in the process.
“I-I have to leave.” You stumbled a bit on your steps but caught yourself before he could reach out.
“____...” It was surprisingly…tender, almost affectionate. It made you wonder if he genuinely felt remorse, maybe guilt?
“What went down earlier shouldn’t have, and I get that I said some hurtful things. But…honestly, if you weren’t mentioned my house, I wouldn’t have gone there and– I hope you know that…”
Oh, the irony! Expecting an apology from him?
His pride soared too high to grasp your emotions. He didn’t even considered the things he said to you, the things you had to heard because of him, how much you had to suffer.
Yes, you truly despise him and he is the reason behind that.
As you kept on walking out of the library, not sparing a glance back at him, unwilling to linger in the aftermath of his intensity.
“You are a fucking jerk, Jeon Jungkook and I hope you know that.”
The damage was done, and the scars of his callousness lingered.
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Note: Let me know your thoughts on this and also, help me out with making the decision about if I should make this into a series or not. Like, is it worth it? Please let me know!!
copyright ©2024, jksian on tumblr. no revisions, translations, or reposting allowed.
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margotw10bis · 3 months
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Cold Hearted. JJK [m]
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hockeyplayer!Jungkook x figureskater!reader
Genre: one-shot; smut; romance; e2l
Words: 13.7k
Synopsis: It's no secret that you absolutely hate Jeon Jungkook, the captain of the hockey team. But you hate him even more when you are forced to share the same ice rink.
Warnings: some violence (pushing during hockey games and one punch is thrown); fingering; unprotected sex; oral sex (m. receiving); use of the words 'slut' and 'whore'; spanking
"But why?!" You loudly whine
Even the holidays season with its merriness, its cinnamon and brown sugar scents and its family gatherings cannot soothe your disgust. You were so happy this morning when you woke up and saw the landscape painted in white with the thin layer of snow. You have been in a good mood all day long — which your big Christmas sweater witnesses since you wanted to share your cheerfulness when you put it on.
And now, Jimin is looking at you with pitiful eyes. You know he is as upset as you are, maybe even more since he is the president of the Figure Skating Club of your college. You might not be the president, but you're the vice-president and every member of the club knows that you'll take Jimin's lead when he graduates. Ever since you stepped foot on campus, you have been truly invested. Your whole life has been dedicated to this sport, it even allowed you to get a scholarship for Seoul University.
"It's just for a couple of months" Jimin tries but it does little to soothe you
"I won't negotiate with those neanderthals" You state, crossing your arms against your chest
"Stop being overdramatic"
"I'm not! All they do is smashing each other against the walls and flow a stupid ball into the goal!" You exclaim
"It's a puck, Y/N" Jimin corrects
"Tomato, tomato" You wave his comment off "They are fucking stupid!"
Jimin stays silent for a few seconds, knowing that there is nothing he could say to ease your anger. It's no secret that you can't stand the hockey team. They are just a bunch of brainless guys trying to hurt each other just to mark a goal. It's barbarian. It's just the exact opposite of the delicacy and art of figure skating.
But what you hate the most about the hockey team, it's its captain: Jeon Jungkook. The guy is simply obnoxious. It's the typical kind of guy that thinks his social popularity allows him to do everything he wants, including mocking others. He is an idiot and his handsome face only makes him more irritable to you.
That is why you refuse, with all you have, to share the ice rink with him. Even if it's just for a few months. Even if it's for shooting a k-drama with your favorite actor. It's just too much to ask and you know that you will end up strangling Jungkook to death by the end of this situation. And you are not risking your future for such a little fucker.
"Please" Jimin begs with his flirty face, immediately making your face redden
Park Jimin knows damn well how good he looks. And he surely knows how to use it. His bleached hair is to die for, his eyes are hypnotizing and his lips... gosh, how can he have such kissable lips? He can be so appealing, knowing exactly what to do to win your heart. You try to look away but Jimin catches your attention again by gently grabbing your hand.
"I need you. You know I can't to do it without you" He purrs with his oh-so-sweet voice
You purse your lips but you both acknowledge that you are losing this battle.
"Please, do it for me" He adds
His eyes shine so brightly that your heart stops a bit. Fuck... He is good.
"Okay..." You sigh, earning a perfect smile from Jimin "But I won't make any efforts with Jungkook and his jerk team. You'll be lucky if I don't murder any of them" You warn
"Thank, Y/N! You're the best!" Jimin exclaims while hugging you, deciding not to care about your threat because he knows that you will, in fact, do everything you can for the club
♡❆~❅~❆♡
It's with a choked throat that you enter the ice rink today. Usually, it's the best time of the day because, when you are skating, you feel free. You feel like nothing matters than your skates and your moves express everything you can't put words on. You have been skating since you were three because your mom was a former Olympian in that very same sport. Of course, she was strict with you but she always gave you the choice to keep going or to stop. But you didn't. When you were happy, upset, or sad, you put your skates on and slit on the ice. After entering Seoul University, it was just natural to join the Ice Skating Club and you haven't regretted it one bit.
Until now.
You are so mad and grumpy at the idea of just seeing Jungkook. And you are even madder when you know that you'll have to act civilized because Jimin is not here and you are the one representing your club.
You are lucky enough to be the first one here. You make sure your skates are well-attached and start your warm-up. You even succeed in slightly relaxing when more members of the Figure Skating Club join you. And since it has been more than fifteen minutes, you even think that the hockey team won't show up.
Well, that's what you thought until you hear some shootings — similar to monkeys when they find food — and you witness the players entering your sacred place. They are wearing their hideous hockey jersey and acting like the stereotyped jocks they are.
You feel your whole body tensed and you stop your track, waiting for Jungkook to be his usual self, that's to say a prick. And you don't have to wait long for it...
He slides gracefully towards you, his helmet under his arm so his stupid face is at full display, and you cross your arms against your chest, clearly notify him that you are not in the mood for bullshit.
"Hello there, sunshine" He greets you with a wild smile, certainly trying to lure you but it doesn't work and you raise a brow "It looks like we have a problem" He continues with the same smile
"Oh really?" You ask
"You see" His voice has become softer and the goosebumps running on your skin is a sign that you won't like his next words "We need to train for the championship so you need to postpone your... thing"
This little bitch.
Jungkook clearly doesn't care about your club, not even taking it seriously. Your fingers tickle with the willing of slapping him.
"How sad, we arrived first" You fakely pout "I guess you have to postpone your thing. Toodles"
You wiggle the tip of your fingers to bit goodbye and turn around. Jungkook stands speechless one second but he is quick to grab your arm.
"Wait!"
You throw a death stare at his hand on you and he immediately takes it away.
"I think you don't understand, we need to win the championship" He explains, a little more stressed
"I think you don't understand. You are on our practice time but we have still welcomed you. You are not the only one training for a championship, Jeon. If you don't respect our club, you are free to train somewhere else" You bite back
"Come on, you can't possibility think that dance skating—"
"Figure skating" You rectify with a frown
"Whatever. You can't possibility think that it's more important than hockey"
Your mouth open in shock and disbelief. You are ready to slap him but, fortunately, Nayeon interferes. She is always sweet and the fact that she is dating one of the hockey players might help. She tries to make Jungkook understand that your club and your activity is as important as hockey — to a personal level for the members but also for Seoul University because you are competing for the Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup. You would like to tell Nayeon that she's wasting her time because Jungkook is too stupid to understand that but you stay silent and throw harsh looks at the captain — which he ignores completely.
You are boiling with anger, so much that your body trembles. You knew that you couldn't act pacifically with those neanderthals and that it would be impossible to share the rink. You knew it but you are still angry, furious that Jungkook despises your club so much. How can he think that he is better than you? That what he does is more important than everyone else? You know exactly how he is, yet you still had some hopes that he would act civilized...
You see red when you notice how he is trying to charm Nayeon and that's enough for you.
"Listen to me, you douche" You bark
Jungkook is shocked by your anger, you can see it on his face — widened doe eyes and opened mouth. Surely, no one must have dared to speak to him like that.
"Rather you accept to play only on the half of the ice rink which, to be honest, is very generous from us, rather you find another place. I'm sure it's simple enough for you to understand that, right?" You notice the captain opening his mouth to protest but you don't give him the time to speak "Right now, you have pissed me off so much that I don't want to see your stupid face. So get out and come tomorrow if you are ready to act like a decent human, with an apology towards us"
Jungkook can see in your eyes that nothing will make you change your mind and leaves, downhearted. His team tries to make him fight but he silences them with a mumbled 'we'll practice tomorrow'.
When the ice rink is free of hockey players, the other figure skaters of the club join you and thank you for defending them. You smile brightly at them and finally you start your training.
♡❆~❅~❆♡
A lot of things have changed the next day. First, the film crew has settled all its equipments. Even during competition, there are not as much lights, camera supports and so on as right now. Someway, it's a little bit impressive and you grow excited at the idea of meeting the main actor.
But the second point drives all your happiness from your body. The hockey team has learnt its lesson and they have arrived early. Shoutings and rough sounds of the puck being stricken fill the usually peaceful ice field. You sigh, already tired by the future conversation you'll have with Jungkook — during which you'll probably loose braincells.
"Sunshine!" Jungkook yells with a bright smile that only seems fake, you can see it even with his helmet on
You wince at the nickname. It feels like he is making fun of you and you surely don't like it.
"As you can see, we arrived first so, following your rules, you have to go"
You are speechless. And Jungkook seems so proud of himself. Is he fucking serious?!
"Are you crazy? You know damn well why I told you to leave yesterday!" You throw at him with anger
"It's just the way you say it works, sunshine" He fakes ignorance
"Stop with the stupid nickname!" You snap
"But it suits you so well" He pouts and you want to slap him in the face 'So I guess you have to go. Toodles"
The captain mocks you by doing what you have said and done yesterday but only this time, Jimin is here. While you are trying to convince yourself that murder is not the solution, Jimin talks with the hockey team. He has always had everything a leader has. He can stay calm, even when you are ready to explode. And his peaceful nature seems to work because after a few minutes of negotiation, he turns around and waves you to come.
It has been decided that you'll share the ice rink, each one of you having one half of the rink. However, on Thursdays, the hockey team will access the whole rink, and on Tuesdays, it will be the Figure Skating Club. You just know that you'll have to do your best to ignore the hockey team, which is not easy when all they do is yelling like four-year old kids.
However, after two whole weeks of this agreement, no murder has been committed — which is a Christmas miracle. Jungkook is still growing on your nerves but not speaking to each other certainly helps. What helps too is that you are trying to do a technical figure and you have spent days concentrating and doing it over and over again. However, your efforts are poorly rewarded because you still can't do it.
You sigh, nod at Jimin's advice and prepare to try again. You clear your mind, concealing all the noise around you and visualize the movements your feet have to do. You are ready, you can feel in your bones that, this time, you will succeed. You open your arms, start sliding to increase your speed and at the exact right time you are willing to jump, a sharp pain in your butt stops you.
It's like someone has pushed you and you fall heavily on the ice. You growl in pain, your eyes watery at the painful spot on your left asscheek. Oddly enough, the pain is precisely located.
"Y/N, are you okay?" Nayeon asks with worried in her voice
You don't have time to answer because someone else arrives next to you. Someone you clearly don't want to see.
"Sunshine, are you okay? I'm so, so sorry!" Jungkook apologizes but it only makes you madder "Where are you hurt?"
He then puts his gloved hand on your ass like it was nothing. Your cheeks burn with wrath — and only wrath that's for sure.
"Get your hands off of me!" You yell
When you turn around, you hiss as you sit down because it's so fucking painful. The hockey puck next you informs you of what has just happened.
"Are you fucking stupid?!" You let your anger spill through your mouth "Can't you see that the goal is on the other side?!"
"I'm sorry, I swear I didn't want to throw it this way" Jungkook explains
"And you think you are ready for the championship" You mumble to yourself but the captain can hear it too
You stand up, Jungkook willing to help you but you wave his hands away, pretty harshly if you have to be honest. However, you welcome Jimin's help. You two slide on the ice until you can take off your skates. It hurts like hell and you can't sit. If you didn't hate Jungkook already, you would surely do by now. You can't believe that someone can be so stupid and dangerous. You are angry, even more when you know that you were about to succeed in a figure you have been trying for days! Tears of frustration — that you present as pain for the club because of your ego — roll down your cheeks.
Jungkook looks at you with a pout and sorry eyes. He really didn't mean to hurt you. He wanted to catch the puck, slide between two players and throw it into the goal with a awkward but technical angle. He hasn't planned on losing balance and throwing the puck while he was fighting not to fall. His heart has stopped when he noticed the puck fly away, and even more when you fell on the ice. He knows that the puck is painful, that is why hockey players wear so much equipment. But you didn't have any. Only your black legging with a light skirt and a thin but warm wood long sleeve t-shirt. He has no doubt that it hurts like hell. And he has no doubt that you are not ready to soothe your hate for him.
♡❆~❅~❆♡
After going back to your dorm, you head to the bathroom. You want one thing: take a hot shower. But the huge bruise on your butt is as painful as it is ridiculous. You mumble all kinds of insults towards Jungkook and the whole night is necessary to soothe your anger.
However, your mood alters when you spot the said captain running to you the next day as you are heading to class. It's too early in the morning to deal with idiocy, but thankfully your wooden beanie and your large scarf hide your face. Maybe Jungkook won't recognize you — but you are not that lucky. The cold weather of December numbs you, that's certainly why you don't directly yell at Jungkook to fuck off when he stops in front of you.
His usual cocky smile is nowhere to be seen — oddly — but a worried eye adores his face.
"How are you?" He asks
You sigh but answer that you are fine nonetheless.
"Y/N, I'm really sorry. I bought you this"
You give him a curious look while Jungkook bowsers through his bag. After a few seconds, he hands you a tube of ointment.
"It's the brand I use for wounds. It works very well, so your bruise will gone in two days" He explains and he seems sincere
"Thanks" You lowly say as you take it
You do appreciate the gesture but you are not ready to show it to him. In fact, it's just showing that he is decent human and knows that he has done something wrong. You give him a quick smile and escape because this civilized conversation with Jungkook is so weird. You are used to roll your eyes at his stupid cocky behavior or snap at him when he does something that makes you mad — which happens a lot. But you are definitely not used to talk to him with a quiet pleasant topic. It's so strange that you spend the entire morning with a frown, replaying again and again your interaction and not playing much attention to your professors.
And universe doesn't let you rest because when you step into the ice rink, your heart stops: freaking Kim Taehyung is here. He is way more handsome than on TV and you wonder how it's even possible. His brown fluffy hair, his perfect face and his bright smile... He looks like a prince and you can't help your cheeks from blushing.
You keep your eyes on him but discreetly approach Nayeon and whisper:
"What is Taehyung doing here?"
Even if you are whispering, your excitement is noticeable on your voice — and maybe also in your eyes that are sparkling.
"The crew said he wanted to meet us and apologize for the inconvenience" Nayeon explains
Jesus Christ, you can't believe that Kim Taehyung is right there. Your heart beats so fast, you're not sure how you are not dead yet. But your beating heart stops when the said actor turns around and looks at you. You gulp while he offers you the most beautiful smile that you've ever seen.
You look like a deer caught in the headlights when Taehyung walks toward Nayeon and you. Gosh, he is so handsome...
"Hi"
How can his voice be so attractive? Deep and warm and sexy. Almost like he were singing jazz. And he has said one syllable.
"Hi" you reply with automatism because your brain has ceased functioning
Sadly, Nayeon is required by Jimin, which leads to an one-on-one with Taehyung and you are not sure you can survive it.
"It must be hard to change your practice schedule for us" He says with concern
"I think we have made it work. Actually, it's an honor to have such a big star here" you reassure him with blushed cheeks
"Still, I've been told that you had to share the rink with the hockey team... Those are not ideal conditions to train"
You fight pursing your lips out of disgust at the mention of the team, especially because it reminds you of Jungkook.
"We have found an agreement" you simply declare because there is not much acting you can do to pretend not being mad at this situation
"I'd like to do something to apologize"
You look at Taehyung with a surprised look. You wonder what he means. He is one of the most popular actors, what would he apologize? Especially to you? Once again, your brain flies towards Jungkook, and Taehyung's thoughtful behavior proves that the hockey captain is just a boor. Taehyung would have every rights to simply not care and let success go to his head but he doesn't. However, Jungkook thinks his pitiful popularity in University is enough to allow him everything...
"If you accept, I'd like to invite you for a cup of coffee" Taehyung asks with his sweet voice and you almost faint
"I— It's—" you stutter with so hot cheeks that you wonder how you are not melting yet "I would love to"
"Great!" Taehyung exclaims with his perfect smile, clapping his hands at the same time, and your heart skips a beat at this handsomeness "I'll wait for you at the end of your practice, is that okay?"
You frenetically nod and watch Taehyung leave. What the hell has just happened?! You must be dreaming because oh my god, Kim Taehyung, the actor every girls are in love with, has just asked you for a.... A what exactly? Isn't it a date? Oh lord, you have a date with Taehyung!
It's just perfect that it's Thursday because Jungkook and his ice hockey team aren't there to mess up everything.
♡❆~❅~❆♡
Taehyung has proved himself as a gentleman. Just like he has promised you, he was waiting for you and you went together at one of the hype coffee shops of Seoul — the one you can read about in tabloids because idols go there. It was so perfect and Taehyung was so sweet. Honestly, it felt like a dream.
Unfortunately, all dreams have an end. The very next day, you were back to your usual average life, fighting the urge to murder Jungkook because he was acting like a pretentious dick — nothing out of the ordinary to be true. And for a whole week, you haven't seen Taehyung.
Except that you are now practicing with the Figure Skating Club, still sharing the ice rink with the hockey team and yelling from time to time when they try to cross the line — literally. Everything is like usual, except for one little — huge — detail: Kim Taehyung is leaning against the side of the ice rink and he is fucking looking at you. Your brain stops, pretty much just like your whole body to be honest, causing you to almost fall. But it's not the worst because you are hypnotized by Taehyung. He is even more handsome than the last time, wearing a black leather jacket with a black turtleneck sweater. The simple yet sexy look is to die for.
You take the time to look at him, not caring that you are still sliding on the ice until you bump into someone. And of course, it's Jungkook.
If you didn't hate him this much, you would have thank him for catching you and prevent you from falling and hurting yourself. But you can't feel any thankfulness when you feel so disgusted at the idea of him touching you. You harshly push away his hands.
"Hey, a simple 'thank you' will do" He rebukes you
You roll your eyes and think that this interaction is over but Jungkook has a different take on it. His eyes lift up and he notices a guy he has seen before behind you. He can't quite put the name on him until it hits him: it's the famous actor you can see in all those k-dramas!
When Jungkook realizes that you were lost in deep thoughts because of this actor, a playful smirk paints his face. He makes sure to take off his helmet to fully let you appreciate it. He lightly shakes his head to give some fluffiness to his black locks that were caged. If he weren't so arrogant, you'd say he is cute. You know, at the very first second you see his wry smile, that you won't like what follows.
"You have found yourself a cute little boyfriend, sunshine" He boasts
"This is none of your business, Jungkook" You reply with gritted teeth
"But I should at least greet him, don't you think? Now that we are close friends" He teases you
You just have time to open your mouth in order to threat him, but the hockey captain is already sliding away. You start to panic and slide after him but the conversation between Taehyung and Jungkook has already begun. This is a nightmare! Why won't Jungkook let you live?
You arrive just in time to hear Jungkook says:
"Y/N is quite something, she is a real pain in the ass"
You see red. Okay, it's official, you are going to kill Jeon Jungkook.
Not only he dares to make fun of something he did — throwing a fucking puck right on your butt —, but he also use it to belittle you in front of Taehyung. This is exactly why you hate Jungkook. He is just mean for no reason and he takes pleasure in hurting people. Moreover, he thinks that's cool to do that.
You waste no time and grab him by the collar of his hockey jersey. You give an apologetic smile to Taehyung who seems to be half-amused half-ill-at-ease by Jungkook's stupid acts.
You drag Jungkook to the locker room and throw your skates away with wrath. Jungkook seems unbothered while he mimics you and calmly takes his gloves off.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You yell at him "Why would you even do that?!"
"Oh come on, it was a simple pun and you know it" He tries to down play
"Maybe I know it, but Taehyung doesn't! But it doesn't change the fact that it was mean"
"You act way meaner with me, sunshine" Jungkook states with a frown, suddenly more serious
"Stop with the nickname!" You say while you don't calm down "And, just for your information, I won't ever try to belittle you in front of someone you're interested in"
"Oh really? You're interested in him?" Jungkook teases you as he steps dangerously closer and pokes his inner cheek with his tongue "Let me tell you that you are delusional if you think that Kim Taehyung cares about you"
You are taken aback his harsh words but even more by his harsh tone. You have always witnessed Jungkook speaking with an obnoxious playful tone, even when he is saying mean things. But it's the first time he is speaking to you like he was mad. Real mad.
"We went on a date..." You manage to say lowly, almost like you were trying to defend yourself because you have done something wrong
"A date?"
Jungkook bursts into laugh, a laugh that clearly states that he is mocking you. Someway, it hurts.
"You are living in a fantasy, Y/N. Taehyung won't ever take you on a date"
"And why not?" You snap back, quite offended
"Because this Taehyung guy doesn't know how to deal with a woman like you. You're too much for him" He replies with a raspy voice that makes you shiver
"I'm too much for you" You play tit-for-tat
"Hum... I don't think so"
Jungkook takes a step closer. You can clearly see the mold on his nose and the one under his lips. And those lips... They suddenly seem so appealing. And the two rings shining catch your eyes, making you stare at his mouth more than you should. Jungkook is surely handsome, even with his little scar on his cheek that you haven't noticed until now. His black doe eyes are harsher than usual but his frown and his clenched jaws are hot. You have never been this close to him and the atmosphere is so dense.
It would only take you to move a few inches further to press your mouth onto his. However, you don't have to do it because Jungkook does.
His kiss is rough, full of the hate and all the despise you feel for each other. You both growl into each other's mouth. Your hands go up to tug on his hair and his hands harshly squeeze your ass. None of your gestures is sweet. A surprising wave of arousal fills your body. Even though you hate Jungkook, his touch on you feels good. So fucking good.
The messy kiss doesn't stop, even when Jungkook pushes you against the door. The hardness of the material makes you moan, especially when Jungkook abandons your swollen lips for your neck. His wet kisses are nothing like gent but you don't want him to be. You didn't know you liked being kiss like that until now and the thought panics you but you easily put it aside because only Jungkook's lips on the thin skin of your throat count.
You tug harder on his black hair, making him growl against you, when his sneaky hand reaches your crotch. You are so deep in the fog of pleasure that you can't think straight. Your pussy grows impossibly wet when Jungkook starts drawing circles on your covered clit. Your usual practice black leggings certainly help to feel his finger on you.
"Oh fuck..." You groan but immediately bite your lower lip because there is no way you'll let Jungkook know that you love what he is doing to you
"I would have kissed you sooner if I knew you'll shut the fuck up" He teases you with his sexy deep voice
You wish you could reply at that but your mouth falls wide open because Jungkook's hand find its way underneath your leggings and panties. You gasp at the coldness of his digits against your burning and wet pussy. His touch is magical and your legs don't support you anymore. You have to grab his shoulders but you can't feel his strong muscles because of the hockey outfit — which you curse against in your mind.
He presses hard against your clit while drawing delightful circles. It's so fucking good but it's not enough, which your clenching pussy makes you know. You start grinding on his hand and you hate yourself for having so little control over your body. You're pathetic, you know it. Yet, you want to stop.
Jungkook drifts his tattooed hand lower, which allows his rough palm to press against your sensitive bud. However, it's worth it when his long digits trace the outline of your dripping hole. Fuck, it's so... You don't even have the words. The delicacy of his touch drives you insane and you just want him to fill you with his fingers. Surely, Jungkook must take pleasure at seeing you so desperate.
You whine and buckle up your hips at the faint hope to slide his digits inside you, but Jungkook is having none of it. He lands a kiss on your burning throat and whispers into your ear:
"Tell me what you want, sunshine"
Suddenly, the nickname doesn't irate you. Quite the opposite actually because you feel your walls tightening around nothing — which is driving you insane.
"Fuck me" You answer with a shaky and weak voice
You don't even recognize yourself but you don't have time to realize it because Jungkook takes a fat lap from the base of your neck to your earlobe, at the exact same moment two of his fingers enter you.
"Oh my god!" You moan as your head rolls back and hits the door
Your walls are swallowing and welcoming him. It's perfect. The stretch is just perfect. And the pleasure is the most perfect one. The contrast between your hot pussy and his cold digit only increases your arousal.
Jungkook starts his pumping slowly but deeply. You have no doubt he can feel how you love it. The whole scene is scandalous and you have never been this audacious about sex — you are getting fingered in the fucking locker room for God's sake! Yet, you don't care.
When Jungkook enhances his pace, your poor cunt throbs around his fingers, urging him for more.
"Your pussy is so tight" He growls against your cheek but he pecks you rather sweetly — a strange contrast with his fingers into you
His free hand wraps around your neck and your walls tighten.
"Fuck, you love that, don't you?" He awes at you "You love being fucked like that, uh?"
His dirty mouth... His smirk is as exasperating as sexy. You won't give him the satisfaction to answer — honestly, you don't have to considering the wetness between your legs. You rather grab his black hair and put him into a kiss so he shuts up.
You feel yourself getting there. Jungkook's fingers pumping you and curling to hit your sweet spot are doing wonders. Jeon Jungkook is fucking you with his digits in the locker room. The exact same Jeon Jungkook you hate.
The realization makes you panic and you suddenly push him.
"Stop!" You yell
Jungkook immediately halts his movements and pulls his hand out of your panties. You feel disgusted of yourself at the arousal noticeable on his fingers.
"Did I hurt you?" He asks with worry
You hide your face into your hands with shame but Jungkook starts to panic, really thinking he went too harsh on you and your poor little cunt.
"Shit, I'm sorry" He tries to soothe you with a gentle voice but he actually makes things worse
When you look up at him, he gulps. You're not hurt, you're furious. Against you, against him. The only remaining of your — fucking hot — sexual interaction is your burning cheeks and the wetness between your legs.
"This—" You speak as you mention between you and him "—never happened. If you tell anyone, I'll kill you"
You run to the bathroom and lock up yourself. The cold water you splash on your face definitely helps for your cheeks but not for your dignity. You feel horrible. You can't believe you have let Jungkook finger you.
♡❆~❅~❆♡
Christmas is getting closer and closer. However, you are not in the mood this year. You usually love this season. It reminds you of the very first time you've put some skates on because they were your Christmas gift when you were four. You are usually so excited. Not this year. Because you have let Jungkook touch your most intimate part.
You have done your best to avoid him, even when he has tried to talk to you. You just couldn't stop replaying the scene over and over again in your head, cringing at it every single time. Why did you do it? You hate Jungkook. Then why? Were you so angry that you were ready to ease the tension by all means? Or were you simply attracted to— No way! As you said, you hate Jungkook, you are not attracted to him. Never.
However, it has been getting hard to believe when you were on another date with Taehyung and all you could think about was the stupid hockey captain. And it made you feel so guilty. So many women would kill to talk to Taehyung — fuck, you were one of them don't so long ago. It makes you hate Jungkook even more, because he is changing you and, you're not going to lie, you're scared.
All this thinking is a little too much for you, that's why you have decided to skip practice today, hoping that Jimin won't resent you. Your absence at the ice rink explains why you have absolutely no idea what is going on at the very same time.
For Jungkook, it is quite a usual day — despite his eyes looking for you every two minutes. Ever since your... moment in the locker room, he hasn't been able to put his head in the game. And his teammates have noticed it too. He lied, saying that the upcoming championship was stressing him but the truth is that he just can't stop thinking about you.
He used to find you annoying, a smartass who thinks she is better than anyone else. To be honest, Jungkook knows you're smart but he has to say, you have a shitty temper. He loved making fun of you or pushing your buttons. That's until he saw how serious and rigorous you were with practice — something he can rely to. Until that, Jungkook thought that figure skating was easy, a kind of game. But he saw you and your club. Saw the technic and the art. And he found you so beautiful, even if you were still fucking annoying.
When he kissed you, he wanted to punish you for not looking at him the way he was looking at you. As egoistical as it might sound, he just wanted you want him. Because he surely wants you — even though he is not really about the reason. He understood it when you mentioned Taehyung. Jungkook was used to think no woman deserved him but now, he is afraid he doesn't deserve you.
All the frustration makes him growl and he has no choice but to take a break. He needs to get some air. He doesn't take off his hockey equipment completely but abandons his skates, his gloves and his helmet. The cold hits him when he steps outside. Today is colder than the other days and if Jungkook believed in signs, he would think that it's an echo of how he is feeling inside.
Lost in his deep thoughts, he hasn't noticed the person a few feet away from him, until he hears the mention of your name. His head tilts up and he discovers, with annoyance, Taehyung speaking on the phone. The actor hasn't seen him yet and keeps up with his conversation.
The feeling of jealousy Jungkook is experiencing quietly turns into something else. Anger.
"No, I don't really care about her" Taehyung says, a cocky smile on his handsome face "I'm just having fun. Come on, this girl is completely whipped for me, I could ask her everything. A little scandal is always good for the promotion of new projects. I was thinking about fucking Y/N and make a sextape"
The airy laugh that follows is enough for Jungkook to head toward Taehyung. He doesn't think twice, his steps completely guided by a boiling wrath. The actor doesn't even have time to realize what is happening: he is grabbed by the collar of his coat, turned around and he receives a harsh punch right on his face.
A growl of pain espaces his mouth and his nose instantly starts bleeding, which only adds to the pain.
"What the fuck, man?!" His yell is fainted by the hand he has put on his nose in a vain attempt to stop the blood
Jungkook's eyes are even darker than usual and Taehyung can see a willing of murder in them. The jaws of the hockey player are as clenched as his fists, certainly ready to punch him again.
"You're a fucking asshole" Jungkook replies with gritted teeth "If I see you around Y/N again, I'll make sure no one recognize your face" He threatens
He turns around, leaving Taehyung in pain and flabbergasted by what just happens. If Jungkook doesn't leave, he might keep his new promise just now. It's not until he is back in the locker room that the pain in his hand reaches his brain. He hisses when he notices the bruised knuckles but the anger is deeper than the pain right now.
♡❆~❅~❆♡
Just like every year, Seoul University has organized a small party with all the athletes. The goal is to keep them motivated — but mostly put some pressure on them so they're cost-effective for their scholarship. Until this year, you have managed to escape it but since you're surely take the lead of the Figure Skating Club next year, you have to be there. It's not that horrible: you get to wear a nice dress and have access to free food and drink. You'll just have to smile a little bit to the Head of the University, thank him for his trust and then, you'll be back home.
The 'annual athletes party' is kind of a pride for your college because all the young people attended it are great in their disciple. One of the best of the whole country. And you do feel proud too when you think about that, you are just not so fond of showing and celebrating it like this.
The mansion of the Head of Seoul University — where the party takes place — is beautifully decorated with Christmas colors. Green, red and white are everywhere to see and a huge Christmas tree — that would certainly make Santa Claus jealous — stands in the middle of the reception room. You have to say that you like the Christmas spirit coming from the party. And you are surely not the only one since pretty much everyone is well-dressed, a lot of them covered in green or red even though the majority of men is wearing black suits. You too have shown your Christmas colors with a emerald green turtleneck and ankle long dress. It's truly elegant with the bright red lipstick on your mouth.
You greet some of friends from the Volley Ball Club, appreciating having time to catch up since your schedules are completely different. You congratulate Roseanne for the gold metal her team has won last month and she assures you that you'll have the same soon, after the Asian University Figure Skating Cup. Her kindness warms your heart but you suddenly tense when you spot one particular person.
You gulp and your cheeks take a red shade in no time. To be honest, you've never seen Jungkook wearing a suit before but he looks so damn confident in it — and so damn hot too. His long black hair is slightly pushed back, offering a great view on his perfect face. He looks really good, like a star. You wouldn't be surprised if someone from an agency appeared right now and offered him to join a k-pop group as visual.
When your eyes lock, you feel the usual wave of panic you have been experiencing since the thing — the fingering — in the locker room. However, you feel the need to talk to him. You have to because you won't survive the next weeks at sharing the ice rink if this tension between Jungkook and you doesn't fade away.
Jungkook seems to understand your inner reflection and your unsure steps are thankfully stopped because he comes to you.
"Hi" He says and his neutral tone is not helping
"Hi"
Your voice is raspy because of your stress. You triturate your fingers, which doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who sighs.
"Can we talk?" You ask, even though you know the answer
Jungkook nods and you two walk towards a calmer spot, close to the stairs. After a few seconds of silence, Jungkook speaks.
"Look, I'm sorry" He says, more gently "I shouldn't have... done this"
"It takes two people to do this" You reply and your words surprise him
Jungkook honestly thought you'd yell at him, saying he is stupid and annoying and inconsiderate as usual. He didn't think you'd take your fair share of responsibility — even though he doesn't resent you because he was the one who kissed you first.
"I think we let this thing get out of control" He tells you with a faint blush on his cheeks that makes you think he is ashamed of it
"Jungkook" You start and saying his name without annoyance feels weird because, for the first time, you realize that it's a beautiful name "What is done is done. I was there with you, I didn't push you away when..." You feel your cheeks burning and you lower your voice, almost murmuring "you kissed me"
You spot a strange look in Jungkook's black eyes but you are quick to look away. You clear your throat and continue:
"Let's just forget. We both have a lot of things going on and we know that we need to focus, for the sake of our teams"
The silence you are facing is quite embarrassing, especially because you absolutely don't know what Jungkook thinks. You surely have spoken wisely but you also know that the hockey captain is not the definition of wise...
"You're right, we should forget about it"
You lift up your eyes. The tone he used... It was way too light, even for Jungkook. He is surely hiding something. And you know you are right when you notice the tiniest smirk on his pieced lips. He casually puts his hands in his pockets. He looks like the usual idiot he is, except that you now find him hot.
"However..."
Here it comes.
You knew he had something going on. You wonder what idiocy he is going to say. You are feeling a mix of scare and eagerness — the latest one is definitely new when it's about Jungkook.
"There are things we can't forget about. Like tradition"
A playful grin paints his face but you wonder what he means by that, until he lifts his head up and invites you to look at the ceiling and fuck. You cannot believe a fucking mistletoe is hanging right above you. You certainly haven't seen it before, otherwise you would not have chosen this spot — or would have you?
You gulp and send an unsure eye to Jungkook who only stares at you with his stupid smile. Is he serious? He can't be. He must be playing with you. But he slightly scoots closer and lowers his head. You can smell his cologne and gosh, it messes with your brain. Another organ is affected by Jungkook's flirt: your weak and treacherous heart. It begins to do all kinds of funny things in your chest.
You look straight into Jungkook's eyes, trying to see if he is mocking you but he looks dead serious and you can only gulp, again. He gets closer again and your bodies almost touch. He is close enough for you to feel his warmth. Your inner battle continues unabated. It's not a good idea to kiss him, especially after what happened.
Yet, you want it bad. Real fucking bad. You know how his lips feel on you, you know how he kisses, you know you'll like it, love it even. And it's almost Christmas, isn't it the right time to do things you love?
This last thought sells you on your decision. Your hands go up to settle on his large shoulders that you finally get to feel underneath your fingertips. You stand on your tiptoe and you bring him closer to you. His breath is warm on your lips and you just can't wait to kiss him. Who would have thought that you would die to kiss Jeon Jungkook? Certainly not you.
Right before you can fulfill your wish, Jungkook is getting snatched out of you. You stand there, completely speechless as two policemen handcuff him in the back. You don't understand what's going and the hockey captain doesn't seem to know better. Everyone is looking at him and at you but you can't care because it must be a sick joke, or a nightmare.
"Jeon Jungkook, you are arrested for assault" One of the police officers states before reading Jungkook's rights
What the hell?!
They are heading to the front door and you force your feet to move, running after them.
"Wait!" You exclaim "It must be a mistake!"
"It's not ma'm and your friend knows it, right boy?"
You look at Jungkook, full of hope that he'll tell you that you are right and they are wrong. Jungkook is stupid, arrogant, even mean sometimes but he is not violent. You wouldn't have let him kiss you otherwise. However, Jungkook sends you an apologetic eye and he lets the policemen taking him away from you.
♡❆~❅~❆♡
What just happened?
This is what you wonder the entire hour following Jungkook's arrest. Even the word makes you shiver. Obviously, the whole hockey team has driven to the police station, trying to know what happened and how they could help their captain. You wanted to go too — the reason being indeterminate — but Jimin convinced you it was a bad idea. It's just that, with your temper, you would have probably end up insulting a policeman and get arrested too.
A whole day has passed. You have been waiting for practice all day long. You even rushed to the ice rink after your last class, but only to find the place empty. It was impossible for you to concentrate of your routine so you gave up and waited for the hockey team to arrive.
You almost don't notice them because there are no shoutings and cheering announcing their arrival as usual. They are silent and — you can't believe you're saying that but — you hate it. You don't like that they are not in a good mood because it means it's bad for Jungkook.
You run to Mingyu, a hockey player and a great friend of Jungkook. He is the one who must know the most of things. You don't waste time on greetings and directly ask about the captain. The first reaction you earn from Mingyu is a desperate sigh and your heart squeezes.
"It's not good" He starts to explain "He has been accused of punching a guy and breaking his nose. Jungkook said it's true"
"Is he going to get out soon then?" You question with hope
"Yeah, in a hour or so. But he'll have to wait for trial. The other guy wants an apology to find an agreement and drop the charges, and of fucking course Jungkook refused" Mingyu growls with frustration
"Why Jungkook doesn't want to?"
"I don't know, he is stubborn" Mingyu sighs, his annoyance clearly noticeable in his voice
You understand Mingyu. You can't believe Jungkook is refusing to say sorry! It's stupid! He was the one who punched someone, he should apologize no matter what. He is ready to go to trial just not to hurt his pride! It's ridiculous!
"Who is the guy he's punched?" You ask
Mingyu looks at you with eyes widened by surprise.
"You don't know?"
You shake your head to say no. How would you know that?
"Kim Taehyung"
♡❆~❅~❆♡
Furious. It's what you are feeling after your conversation with Mingyu. You knew that Jungkook wasn't fond of Taehyung, that he didn't really appreciate you hanging out with the actor — even though it was none of Jungkook's business. But you didn't think that he would punch him! For what? Jealousy? It must be that because you have never seen them talking. There is nothing else Jungkook could be upset about.
But yeah, even though you are furious towards Jungkook, it doesn't mean you want him to go to prison. You have done a little search last night because you couldn't sleep, way too worried about a certain hockey player. He could go to prison for a year. Even if his sentence is softer, he would still lose all his chances at turning pro. Everywhere he'd apply for a job, it would be noted, clear as day, that he has been convicted.
You don't really know why you are so affected by Jungkook's doom. One month ago, you would have done everything you could to avoid him and now... you are ready to what? Fight for him? It is ridiculous, you hate him. But the more you say that to yourself, the more it feels like a lie.
Maybe that's why you have met with Taehyung, trying to make him drop the charges. Are you ready to drop your ego and apologize to someone for something you didn't do just because of Jungkook? It seems like it. You aren't pleased to do it but it is nothing compared to the way your heart clenches at the thought of him going to prison.
You are a little but shocked when you see Taehyung. He looks... ugly to you. Well, you still can spot his handsome features, even though half of his face is covered by the large white medical patch he has on his nose. It's not even that that makes him ugly to you, it's his eyes. They are harsh and cold, reminding you of a snake.
"How are you?" You ask gently, trying to push away the unpleasant feeling of his coldness
"How do you think I am?!" He snaps back at you "Look at my face! He broke my fucking nose! Do you know how much money I'm loosing right now?"
You tense at that. Is money more important than someone's future? Jungkook is risking it all. Taehyung, on the hand, might be losing money but you know damn well he has enough of it for a few years, a few decades even. And even though you are feeling a dull anger building up inside you, you focus on the reason of this meeting.
"I'm sorry Jungkook punched yo" You say, a little less soft than before
You only earn a scoff from the actor, making you nervous to ask for a favor.
"I know it was wrong, I really do" You start carefully "But could you forgive him and drop the charges? I know Jungkook must feel bad about hurting you, I swear he is not violent"
"Are you serious, Y/N?"
You gulp. Taehyung hisses like a snake.
"I want a fucking apology. On his fucking knees. Don't you think that I at least deserve it?"
You understand that the apology is necessary. You would want one if you were in Taehyung's shoe.
"I'll talk to him. If he apologizes, you'll drop the charges, right?" You ask with a weak but hopeful voice
"Yeah, sure" He answers with a distant tone
Getting arrested and spending twenty-four hours in custody is definitely not an experience Jungkook would recommande. He is tired and he wants to be alone now that he is free. Well, not so free because, as the police officers told him, there is a high chance he is going to prison for a few months.
His parents wanted him to go back home but, to be honest, Jungkook didn't want to face his dad's disappointment and his mom's hopelessness. He rather stays at his dorm and thinks about what he is going to do. Surely, no pro teams would recrute him. What will he do? What kind of jobs accept ex-con? Certainly not the ones he was aiming.
You lift up your head when you hear steps echoing the hallway. Jungkook didn't except to meet you in front of his dorm door. Normally, he would have teased you and would have made a bad joke about you were desperate for his dick if you were ready to wait at his dorm, but he has no energy for that.
"What are you doing here?" He asks with a sigh
It's painful to witness his exhausted face. It's even more painful not to see his usual stupid playfulness in his eyes. You used to hate it but now you miss it.
"Jungkook, you need to apologize to Taehyung" You notice how he tenses at the name "I talked to him, he will drop the charges if you say you're sorry"
Frustration grows in Jungkook while he opens his door. Does he have to repeat himself once again?
"Well, I won't apologize"
"Don't be ridiculous!" You scold him as you follow him inside his room
It's just as you've imagined it: full of trophies and photos with friends. Not so neat but not dirty at all. Just some mess here and there. It's a nice bedroom though: enough place for his desk, closet, bed of course and also a little couch. You easily can imagine Jungkook and the hockey team hanging out here with pizzas. Jungkook's dorm being the most recent one on the campus, he is lucky enough to have his private bathroom with toilets and shower — something you are jealous about.
"Listen, I'm tired and I want to be alone" Jungkook cuts you off, running his hands in his messy hair as he sits on his bed
"Are you seriously willing to give up your life, your future, everything for your pride?!" You yell at him, frustration exploding inside you
"This is not about pride, Y/N!" He yells back "I was right to punch him and I would do it again if I had to. I am not apologizing"
"You are stupid then" You state with your arms crossed on your chest
"Fucking leave then" He snaps back with a harsh tone
You stay silent for a while, quite hurt by his words even though you could understand that he was not the most patient person right now. It was just normal after being arrested.
"Do you really want me to leave?" You ask with a weak and gentle voice
Jungkook looks at you, noticing some hurt in your eyes, and then sighs.
"No, I'm sorry"
"It's okay" You assure him while you are sitting next to him on his bed "I'm sorry too. I just don't want to you to go to prison" You explain and wrap your arm around his large shoulders, which is not easy to do
Jungkook grabs your comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezes it lightly. The coldness of his fingers are somewhat heartbreaking. Was he cold when he was in custody? Was he treated good?
"Why?"
The question is simple, yet the answer isn't. Why are you so worried about him? There is a simple explanation but you are just not ready to confess it. Not to him, not to you.
"You're my friend" You simply answer
You both know it's not true. Jungkook and you are not friends. Ennemis would be more accurate. Or was more accurate. What are you now?
Jungkook scoffs at your words. The proximity between your two bodies is dangerous. His dark eyes are too intense, his face is too close and he is just too appealing. You gulp and scoot away.
"Why are you suddenly nice to me?" Jungkook asks but it sounds like a reproach
"What do you mean?" You frown
"You always treat me like an idiot and now, you care about me? Why?" He presses, suspicion well noticeable in his voice and it takes you aback "Because of Taehyung?"
What?
You are as surprised by assumptions as by your absence of thoughts about Taehyung. The actor hasn't crossed your mind once. How can it be possible when your brain is filled by Jungkook himself?
"Come on! You have been all over him ever since he has stepped foot here! You think I haven't heard you talking about him with your friends during practice?" He says harshly, clearly blaming you as if you had betrayed him
"Taehyung has nothing to do with that!" You defend yourself but for Jungkook, it sounds like you are defending Taehyung
Once again, he scoffs and stands up, which you mimic. Jungkook is mad, that's for sure. For what? That, you don't know. But it irritates you that he is pushing you away while all you want to do is help him.
"Of course!" He chuckles with sarcasm "You just want him to be out of trouble, right? That's why you want this whole story to stay quiet!"
"You are talking non-sense! You are the one acting like a dumb-ass just because you don't want to apologize!"
You are starting to get angry. Jungkook is back to his usual stupid self and it drives you mad, not because he irritates you but because his life is at stake.
"And I won't apologize!" Jungkook points out, crossing his arms against his chest just like he was daring you to make him change his mind
Your growl with frustration.
"Why don't you understand that I'm not doing this for Taehyung?!" You yell
"Because you fucking came all the way here to ask me to fucking apologize! Why would you do that if it's not for Taehyung, uh?"
He won't understand. He won't believe you, not matter what you say. You get that now. You are so furious — at him for not believing you and at you for not finding the right words — that your eyes get watery. There is only one thing you can do to make him understand.
You grab the back of his neck and pull him down to press your lips on his. Jungkook tenses at first but when your tongue asks the access of his mouth, his body relaxes and his hands find their way on your hips. You scoot closer, holding him tight because he was so roughly taken from you yesterday. You are now afraid that someone snatches him again and you won't allow that.
You tug on his hair and Jungkook squeezes your ass as your kiss gets heated. It's messy but full of emotions — which ones being unsure to you. Jungkook guides you towards his bed but you resist a little, just to take off his sweater and t-shirt underneath.
Fuck, he is too hot. As an athlete, you knew he had a great body but seeing it... It brings all kind of butterflies in your belly because Jeon Jungkook is definitely a hottie. His shoulders are large, his biceps are huge and his abs... they look so delicious that you want to lick them. He is even sexier with his tattoos.
However, you don't have time to admire him because Jungkook wants to see your body too. He helps you slide your coat off, and your pullover. Your bra joins the slack of clothes in no time. You moan when Jungkook cups your boobs and you shiver because his hands are cold. You arche your back, inviting him to wrap his mouth around your nipples. He doesn't go softly. He is rough but you like it. You feel like a pool of arousal in your panties, it's almost embarrassing.
Once again, Jungkook's hands find their way to your ass, squeezing it to the point it hurts. You replicate by pulling on his hair and you both growl in each other's mouth. When he tilts his head so he can suck on your neck, your hands travel South, not forgetting to caress his brawn torso, to reach his pants and unbutton his jeans. You know don't when or how he got to change his clothes but it doesn't matter because they will be gone soon.
You pull on his pants, urging Jungkook to get naked. As he is taking care of his clothes, you clumsily throw your UGGs away before ridding off of your leggings. Jungkook and you are only covered by your underwear and fuck, he is a sight... His bulge is clearly noticeable and oh my god, he seems huge.
"Take that off" He says with a raspy and sexy voice and you execute
If you think that Jungkook is a fine piece, the hockey player is completely whipped right now. You are so beautiful, all naked in front of him. He doesn't even know where to look because you are perfect everywhere.
He steps closer, caging you so you have no choice but to step on his bed while he is still standing in front of you. His plump and pinkish lips are great but you want to taste more of him. You get on all fours to be at the same level as his dick. When Jungkook understands what you are willing to do, he curses and bites his lower lip. He watches you sliding your hand in his brief and reach for his hard length. It's your turn to curse when you free his cock and finally witness how big he is. It's intimidating but you are one to accept challenges.
That is why you waste no time and wrap your warm mouth around his tip. A salty dry of pre cum lands on your tongue and you hums in delight. Your right hand rests at his base so you can take more of him easily. You love how your mouth feels wide opened for Jungkook. You love it so much that you quickly push your gag reflex. His tip hits the back of your throat, yet you can't take him entirely in your mouth — that's how huge Jungkook's cock is.
He is looking at you with fire in his eyes. You are so fucking hot like that, especially when you look up at him with those innocent eyes while his cock in your mouth. The saliva coating your lips are a sin and Jungkook's hips move automatically, pushing deeper in your throat.
"Fuck, you are so good" He praises "A good fucking slut, right?"
You nod as you can't speak with his dick stuffing your mouth, completely lost in your pleasure. You have no self-control on your body right now and your juices drop down your inner thighs. You want to touch yourself because of how turned on you are. Jungkook too look at your whole body and his eyes land on your ass. Perfect, tempting — especially when your arche your back to suck him off. A loud slap falls on your asscheek, provoking a long moan from you around Jungkook's dick. His tattooed hand rests on your butt and pats it before harshly grabbing it.
"Please fuck me" You beg when your pool of arousal is too much to take
Jungkook pushes his cock back in your mouth, so deep that you choke on it, and slightly bends to slide one finger in your pussy. It feels so fucking good. His middle finger is pumping you at a fast pace, making you lose your last remains of reason. Your walls tighten around his digit like they want to have more, to be more stretched. And Jungkook might understands because he provides a harsh dick stroke to your mouth — hot and naughty gagging sounds fill his room — and pushes a second finger in your cunt.
Drool escapes your lips, coating your chin and Jungkook's balls, the exact same way your arousal drops from your throbbing pussy.
"You look like a fucking whore" Jungkook says but it looks like a compliment with his raspy voice My good whore, right?"
You don't see his face but you have no difficulty to imagine his cocky smirk. You want to bite back to him, arguing that you're not his whore but actually, you are... You are sucking his cock like a maniac because Jungkook surely and slyly makes you want to please him. You don't know how but despite your — former — hate toward him, you have this need to be close to him and let him access everything of you. Maybe because you also want to access everything of him.
You let go of his wet and large dick to take big cups of oxygen but it doesn't mean that Jungkook slows down his pace into your pussy. He even goes faster. You moan loudly before gripping his sheets with your fists and pressing your face down into the mattress. You strategically keep your ass up for him to finger you as much as he wants. Your cunt tightens, and it's worse when Jungkook uses his free hand to slap your asscheek. You gasp and clench around him.
"Are you going to cum for me?" He teases you, an arrogant pride so noticeable in his voice that you would like to deny your building orgasm just to prove him wrong but you can't
"Faster!" You ask
The hockey player grants your request, shaking your whole body through your poor little pussy. He goes so fast and so hard that you are not sure you'll ever be able to walk again. You can feel in your stomach that you are close. Your fists tighten around the cotton fabric of the sheets and you mutter your groan by burring your face.
"Cum, go on, be a good girl and cum"
Fuck, he is good with his words — and with his fingers. As he is pounding into your pussy, you can feel the knot in your stomach growing bigger and bigger until you explode, moaning something that looks like Jungkook's name. Your whole body shakes and your toes curl because Jungkook doesn't seem to want to stop. He prolongs your orgasm as long as he can, making it last for some long seconds until you can't take it anymore.
Your body jolts forward on its own to escape the overstimulation, earning a laugh from the hockey player. You are panting and trying to reach down to Earth. While you are in the fog of your sexual high, Jungkook takes his brief off completely and lays down on his bed. He gently pats your ass — on which he can notice slight red marks due to his spanking — and smirks. You are used to intense physical efforts and yet, you look completely drained.
"Are you going to survive?" Jungkook mocks and you throw a death stare at him
You have your strength back and you are not willing to let Jungkook makes fun of you. He looks so arrogant, laying on his bed with his arms crossed behind his head — you try to ignore how his posture accentuates his biceps and his abs. We'll see who laughs last laughs longest.
You straddle him, resting your knees on both sides of his hips. Your boldness makes Jungkook's smile lightly shakes. He is so cocky sometimes but he is not the only one who knows how to fuck. It's your turn to smirk and you do what you wanted to earlier: you lean down and take a big lap of his abs. You gloat when you feel his muscles flex under your tongue. When you reach his pecs, you suck on his skin and paint it with a purplish mark. You kiss it to soothe the pain away but you are sure that Jungkook didn't hurt too much because you clearly felt his dick throb between your legs during the hickey process.
"Did you lose your tongue?" You tease but you are answered by slap on your ass
An embarrassing loud moan escapes your mouth. You won't tolerate that. That's why to strongly grab Jungkook's cock at its base, squeezing it a little bit too much which causes a growl from the tattooed man, and sink on it. You breathe deeply and you slowly sit down. He definitely feels big. Both Jungkook and you have lost your smirk because you didn't except so much pleasure.
"Oh my god" You whisper
At the same time, Jungkook curses 'You are so fucking tight'. You support yourself on his torso, not moving yet because fuck, he is so big. It even cuts your breath. You try to regain your senses but you don't have time for that: Jungkook presses his feet on the mattress and uses his strong thighs to push his hips up. He gives you rough dick strokes, at a quick pace. Your moans are covered by the sinful sounds of your clapping skins.
"Fuck, Jungkook" You groan, falling on his torso
Jungkook's arms wrap around your frame, making sure you don't jolt too much because of his poundings, and he fucks you hard and deep. His cock slides perfectly into your cunt, coated with your arousal, and his balls slap your ass. It's perfect, that's for sure and your walls clench.
"Shit, don't do that" He scolds you but it's not like you can control your body's reactions to pleasure so you clenche even more "You little slut"
"You fuck me so good" You confess and you don't know why but your words spur Jungkook to give you a gentle kiss on the top of your head
You are surprised by the tender of his gesture while his cock bumps your pussy so harshly. You lift up your head, look at him. He is cute with his cheeks all blushed because of his efforts. You press your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck. You want to melt into him and Jungkook seems to want the same thing because his embrace tightens and he slows down his pace. His dick slides deep inside you, with passion, just like he was making love to you.
At that thought, you panic a little and you straighten up. You place your hands flat on his stomach and jump on his length. You have to take things under control — both the pace of your fucking and your emotions that are going wild. Your ass hits his lap every time you let yourself down until you take all of him inside you. Your head rolls back under the pleasure. You have never felt so full before. You fasten your pace, your tits bounce and your lungs burn due to your insane riding.
"Fuck, you are taking me so good" Jungkook praises and you hate how much your cunt clenches because you like it "You are a good girl for me, right sunshine?"
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
You have never loved the nickname this much. Your eyes fall on his face. His doe eyes are slightly opened, like he was stoned. Your heart beats faster in your chest and you know damn well it's not your physical efforts that cause it. Especially when Jungkook's fingertips softly caress your cheek. You are so glad that he can't say you blush like crazy because your face is already red.
"Kook, I—"
You stop talking when his free filthy and tattooed hand pinches your nipple. You are surprised and so pleased. You whine and alter your riding which gives a great opportunity to Jungkook to take control again.
"You are going to cum"
It's as much a promise as it's an order. You knew he was dominant but you didn't know that you would like it in bed. Your moans leave your lips a little shaken because of the harshness of Jungkook's poundings. Your cunt grabs his dick so tightly.
You don't know how it's possible but he quickens his pace. You don't know if you can survive it. It's just too fucking good. Jungkook grabs and squeezed your asscheeks, spreading them to fuck you deeper. His finger are too deep in your flesh that you'll have bruises for sure.
Your pussy throbs and you know that you are close. You shut your eyes close and whisper how good he feels. The way his length sketches your walls and the way it slides into you to hit that sweet spot, it's perfect. And the fact it's Jungkook among all the other men on Earth...
You can't support yourself anymore and fall on his torso, burying your face in the crook of his neck. The thin layer of sweat coating his skin only adds to the hotness of the scene.
"Make me cum" You urge him and he provides
He uses his remain strength to give you some deep and harsh poundings, spurred by some rough spanks on your ass.
"Fucking cum for me, sunshine"
You do. You cum on his huge cock and your juices drip down your inner thighs and his dick. You are so high, definitely on cloud nine. You bite Jungkook's neck to mutter your moans but it only pushes him to fuck you harder. It's a lot to take, the overstimulation is not far.
"Kook, cum" You weakly ask
"Fuck, baby" He growls and pulls off just in time to release his seeds on your ass
It was something. The best sex of your life. Jungkook can be arrogant because he fucks real nice.
You roll on the side, panting. You want to take a shower to get rid off of your sweat and of both your and Jungkook's cum but the hockey captain has other plans: he presses you against his side to cuddle. The sweet gesture reminds you why you were there in the first place. But your throat is dry — surely because you have screamed a lot, but maybe also because you are afraid to stop this little magic moment.
"Jungkook" You start softly "Please, don't go to prison"
You didn't know that words could be so painful. You feel it by the way your throat tightens.
The tattooed man sighs, not angrily like earlier but with resignation. That's when you get that Jungkook has made up his mind and he won't change it.
"Y/N, I won't apologize. Taehyung deserved this punch, trust me. And I won't forget myself if I apologize for something that is right to me" He tells you with a voice so sweet that you want to cry — or maybe it's because you know you will be separated soon
"But it's so unfair!" You whine, your heart squeezed in your chest
"Maybe, or maybe not. I have no regrets because I know I did the right thing and it was my choice so don't be sad, sunshine" He conforts you, caressing your back and pecking your head as you rest your cheek on his chest
You know that you will cry a lot. You also know that, whatever the sentence is, you will wait for him.
♡❆~❅~❆♡
You are waiting, your heart beating loud and fast in your ears. Today, for the first time in two months, you haven't thought about Jungkook. It's been two months since you last saw him, at the trial. He kept his promise and refused to apologize to Taehyung. You have been feeling like dying ever since he was sentenced to one year imprisonment. It was so unfair. You were ready to punch the actor in the face too. And you were mad at Jungkook because it looked like he was simply accepting his fate. You weren't accepting it.
You cried a lot and poured your soul into work and practice for the competition. And today is the big day. The Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup. You have done your best, you have done a very technical figure which surely brought you a lot of points from the jury. But mostly, you haven't thought about Jungkook. For the first day since the trial, you haven't been totally miserable.
And now, you are waiting for the result, the usual tension and stress of the competitions filling your body and your mind. You accept it with thankfulness today. You close your eyes and pray every gods. You want to win. You really, really want it. You are competitive, that's for sure. But you also want to win for Jimin and the whole Figure Skating Club. And mainly, you want to win for Jungkook because he won't ever be able to participate to a competition.
The loud buzzing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear your name when the first place is announced. You stay still until Jimin hugs you tight and whispers 'You have won!'. You still don't believe it when you look around you and your friends congratulate you. It's like a dream.
Did you really win the first place of an international competition? Yes, you did.
A bright smile paints your face and you join the podium next to the ice rink with weak and shaking legs. The gold medal is being put around your neck. You hear the crowd cheering, which is amazing. It's a very strong and emotional moment, maybe the most important one in your life so far. Your club, your university even, will be celebrated in whole South Korea. It's amazing and perfect and everything you have ever dreamt of. You have spent your whole life working and scarifying many things for that, this moment. You have spent days wondering how it could feel to be the winner of such a prestigious competition.
Never you have imagined that you wouldn't be happy.
You are proud, you feel loved, admired but you are sad. Now that the competition is done, Jungkook fills your brain and you are worrying about him. You feel alone while you are saddened by so many people. You wonder if he is okay, if he is beaten up by other prisoners. The tears roll down your cheeks, interpreted as happy tears from everyone else. They are not.
A huge bouquet of flowers is brought to you. It's so big that you can't even see the person giving it to you but it's the most beautiful bouquet you have ever seen. When you take it in your hands, ready to automatically and politely thank the person in charge of that mission, your heart stops and the bouquet escapes your fingers.
Jungkook.
Are you dreaming? What is he doing here? Are you officially going insane? Maybe the adrenaline rush is messing with your brain. However, even if it's just a mirage, you jump into his arms. You are not scared to harshly hit the floor if you have imagined him.
But you never hit the floor. Jungkook's strong arms are securely wrapped around your frame and he hugs you tightly yet tenderly. You cry with your face buried in his neck. You missed him, so fucking much. You would have laughed five months ago, if someone told you that you would miss the hockey team captain so much. And here you are.
"Are you okay? What are you doing here? Are you hurt? Were you treated well? What about prison? Are you free? How?" You throw thousands of questions in a few seconds
"I missed you" He simply replies, like it is explaining everything
When Jungkook cups your face, you finally get to see him. He looks tired but he doesn't look wounded. He is beautiful. So, so beautiful that your heart misses a beat.
You waste no time and press your lips on his. They are cold but you don't care because your whole body warms up. Just like you were stuck into an ice cube during the last two months and you are finally free. You circle his waist with your arms, afraid he'll disappear.
"Don't leave me ever again" You order but your voice is weak and your eyes are still watery
"I won't, I promise" He whispers with so much gentleness that you are not sure you're awake "I'm free and I'll explain everything to you later. Now, enjoy your victory, sunshine"
Sunshine. You hated so much this pet name before because you thought Jungkook was making fun of you. Now, looking into his black and shining eyes, you know that he is not. He truly sees you like his sun. You can see he has fallen in love with you and he is not lying when he is saying that he'll wait for you. You don't even care why or how he went out of jail, he is free and it's all that matters.
Jungkook loves you and...
"I love you" You tell him after kissing him one last time before shaking hands with the jury and the organizers of the Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup, a bright and genuine smile on your lips
Taglist @chimmisbae
Guys, I'm so so sorry for the wait. I've got problems with Tumblr but I'm back 🩷
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kookslastbutton · 1 year
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prove it to me ༓ jjk (m)
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✑ Summary: "I'm not your baby Jungkook. Remember that." Those are the words you say right before jumping into a one night stand with Jeon Jungkook, the man who's constantly annoying you with his college fling stories. You decide maybe just this once you'll play into his game and prove that he's no more average than the rest.
Pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x fem!reader
AU/genre: PWP, smut, humor, fluff, one-sided e2l, friend of friends, oneshot (for now?)
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 5.3k+
Warnings: arguing, swearing, sexual tension, denial of feelin’s, kook’s kind of an @$$ but he got some truth to him, oc's jaded & not buying into kook's bs, myg being a good friend then ditching lmao, kook likes calling oc petnames, kook is bunny boy
sexually explicit content: dom!jk, switch sub!reader, semi-awkward first kiss, unprotected s*x (pls stay safe everyone!!), teasing, foreplay, dirty talk, some manhandling, rough sex, t*itty suck, f*ngering, penetration, cunnilingus, doggy, multiple orgasms (f. receiving), kooks calls her pretty girl, some degradation/dumbification (sl*t calling) & oc has bit of an actual dumby moment but she's still fairly rigid, but not a full brat? Lmao idk
Now playing: Monster in me, Breakfast, LOUD
A/N: ahdjsj?c it's here! 👉👈 a thousand apologies that this is out way later than planned! Uni getting most of my time 😟 But its here and I'm so pumped to share it with you guys!! Hope you enjoy 😗💕
Taglist:
@marcoazz2 @demiec0re @jcrl99 @muah-minhoe-8 @whoa-jo @jeongukkieeeeeeee @sweet4jenni @chanjwl @kimtaesss @jexizia @vexstrils @notchia @dollypoetry @cherrysoulth @burnahtsw @icantpickabiasugh @megaamonn
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Jung freaking kook. Just look at him sitting over there, half-naked and wet. Sure, he’s got a towel thrown over a shoulder but it’s so small it’s doing fuck all to dry him off. Obviously he chose it on purpose. He thinks he’s such hot shit but you think he looks like a drowned rat.
And look! He’s got Namjoon’s apartment floor drenched with the pool water he tracked in! Man, if this was your place you’d be handing him a nice mop and bucket right about now.
"They were begging me to go a fourth round, but I was winding down, y'know?" Jungkook's voice echos obnoxiously off the walls. You mentally roll your eyes. He’s got a big mouth too. This must be your twentieth time hearing the same spiel about his little rendezvous with two chicks during undergrad. News flash Jungkook, you're not a god!
The guys are into it, though. You scan the room. Hoseok's on the verge of drooling, and Jimin can't stop grinning. Namjoon and Seokjin are leaning back in their seats, slight smirks pulling at the corners of their mouths. And Taehyung? Don't even get started on him. The man excused himself for the bathroom about ten minutes ago and is still yet to return.
Men. You decided to spend your one free Saturday with men.
You should have accepted Soyeon's offer to go drinking instead. This was the downside of being one of the only females in this so-called "friend group". None of your girlfriends were here! Sure, other women were around, but they were far too busy slinging themselves all over that perfectly chiseled bod–no.
Don't finish that thought.
Lots of guys go to the gym, __. Jungkook is nothing special. These women are obviously brainwashed; unlike them, you don't have time for his little boy games. It's time to get out of here.
"Okay, well, I'm heading out. Nice seeing everyone," you say, rising from your seat.
Jimin whips his head around. "What, already? We haven't gotten to the good part yet."
“There’s a good part?" You scoff. “Or, you mean Jungkook making girl number two squirt all over the bed? Heard it before, don't need to hear it again."
"It was girl number one," Jungkook butts in, eager to correct.
Whatever. You swing the apartment door open, phone and keys in hand. "See most of you on work Monday." You allow the door to slam behind you.
"She okay?" Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, wheels turn in his head.
"Don't worry about her. Work's probably got her beat." Namjoon cracks open a can of beer unfazed.
Jungkook nods, chewing on the bottom of his lip. "Does she–"
"The answer's no. __ doesn't need a good fuck, so put those thoughts away."
Shit, Jungkook swears internally.
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Monday morning comes like hell on your doorstep. You're groggy when you wake up, barely getting to the shower. You considered skipping the ritual entirely but couldn't, not with how gross you felt. Project deadlines were right on your tail too, so you needed to either slap yourself awake or kiss your precious job promotion goodbye. You choose the later.
"Hey Minji, how are those files coming along?" You round the corner of the small office. It's 10 o'clock now, and everyone is typing, scanning, copying, and making phone calls until steam comes out of their ears.
"Almost finished." Your coworker, only a few years younger, responds. "Just have to tie up some loose ends, and then I'll hand them to you for review."
"Great. Thanks for–" You pause when you catch a slight grin spreading across Minji's face. Despite all the chaos today, Minji's definitely been the most cheerful. "You seem really happy today. Something good happened recently?"
Minji suppresses the grin and squeezes her palms in her lap. “Nothing in particular. Just glad to be a part of the team."
"Yeah, right!" Hoseok sends a knowing smirk, nearing the two of you. "Someone had a busy night last night, huh? It's okay. __ is cool. You can tell her anything." Once close enough, your coworker pulls you into a casual side hug.
You grimace. It feels weird while at the office.
"Do you mind?" You shrug him off. "It's work hours."
"Well, actually," Minji starts, cheeks rising. "It's nothing like that. I'm going on a date tonight. I'm just a little excited."
Hoseok's mouth forms an 'o', eyes widening. "Really? Who is it?"
"Uh, his name's Jeon–"
"Jungkook?” Jimin’s head pokes up from across the cubicle. Eavesdropping as usual.
"No…," Minji replies. "Who's Jungkook?"
"He's just a close friend of ours." Hoseok gestures between the three of you. “He’s Jeon Jungkook.”
"He's only you guy's friend," you say bitterly. Considering that player as a friend is pushing it for you. Really pushing it.
"C'mon, what's with you and Jungkook?" Jimin says, shooting you a borderline glare. "You've had bad blood with the guy since you met him.”
"Oh, don't start with me Park,” you fold your arms. "You know exactly why I feel the way I do."
You think he'll have a comeback, but he doesn't. Jimin simply sighs and returns to his work. Figures he'd be the one to jump to Jungkook's defense. The man practically idolizes him. That, and he's been best friends with him for the past eight years. Loyalty sure has its perks.
"So! If it's not Jungkook, who's the guy?" Hoseok asks, hoping to switch the topic around.
Minji jolts up in her seat. “Wonwoo," she says. “His name’s Wonwoo. We ran into each other at a friend's birthday party last night."
"Well, good luck with him tonight," you reply, returning to your office. "I'm sure it'll go well." Enough small talk. You have a whole seven hours plus of work left.
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6:45 p.m.
The clock on your screen blinks at you. Everyone's gone home by now, and so should you. But you're still here, fingers frantically typing on the keyboard.
“__, go home already." Your finance officer, Min Yoongi, stands in the doorway, resting an arm against the frame. He's got his soft, leather briefcase in the other hand; yes, the one you got him for his birthday a couple months ago.
Yoongi was the only person in your department who often stayed as late as you. He looked like he was on his way out, though. Must have gotten what he wanted done. "I'll get there eventually," you say. "Just finishing some reports for our meeting tomorrow."
"What reports? They're all done."
"Well…my reports."
"You mean, the ones that we don't actually need?" He quirks a brow.
"They're extra just in case. There might be something off, and this might help." Yeah maybe you were making shit up to keep yourself busy, so sue you. What else were you going to preoccupy your time with? You already polished off the last pint of cookies and cream ice cream.
"You're cute." Pushing off the doorframe, Yoongi nears your desk. "You know boss doesn't look at them."
"You never kno–"
"Hey." The authority in your co-worker's voice makes you straighten your posture. "Let's cut the bullshit." In a moment of urgency, he leans his body between you and your computer.
"Excuse you?" You shove his shoulder with both hands, but he stands firm until your computer goes pitch black.
"Here's what we're gonna do." You're gently pulled up and out of your seat by the wrist. "I'm gonna get a drink, and you're coming with me."
The man gathers your coat and bag, slinging them over a shoulder. You feel your legs being lifted off the ground soon after. "I can walk, you know." You reflexively kick your feet in protest. It's been a while since he's picked you up like this.
Yoongi switches off the light and makes his way to the elevator at the end of hall. "Not right now, you can't." He pushes the button, calling it up.
"Ah look at you," you purr, locking your arms around his neck. "Someone's been watching k-dramas after hours. Trying to confess or something?"
He enters the elevator for both of you, amused by your playful remark. "I consider you my friend, __. But if I were trying to confess, I'd just come out with it. Subliminal messaging isn't really my thing.”
Understanding his notion, you close your mouth. What were you supposed to say to that?
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You aimlessly watch as the woman pours freshly shaken alcohol into a short, round glass. She finishes the concoction by sticking an orange wedge along the rim. A cocktail, a classic but timeless favorite. Yoongi takes a sip of his whiskey and tilts his head towards you. "Whenever you're ready to spill your guts, let me know." 
"Hmm? I don't have anything going on." You down a shot yourself. "Nothing to spill here." 
He gives his glass a gentle swirl, liquid splashes against the sides. 
"Why are you looking at me like that? Nothing's wrong," you say. 
He sets his glass on the bartop, straight-faced. 
"Honestly, I don't know what you're getting at. We just came for a drink." 
"It's him, isn't it? Bunny boy with the six pack."
Your nose scrunches knowing exactly who he's referring to. With little thought you give a short 'no'. 
Yoongi stares at you nonchalantly. "Nice try, but I'm not an idiot, __. I don't know the guy that well, but I know enough that he's been on your mind a lot. You've been real prickly towards him too. Something tells me he's the reason you've been burying yourself in work lately.” 
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm just committed to my work. You know me, Ms. married to her job and all." You feign a chuckle. "I assure you, Ju–he's the furthest thing from my mind." 
“Mhm...right." He hums unconvinced. "Tell me ms. married to her job, why won't you say his name?"
"Because-" You cut shortly. "I'd rather not think of him right now. Can't we talk about something else or drink in peace?" 
He reaches for another taste of his burning liquor. "Alright."
Minutes pass before either of you speaks. You and Yoongi do this often, and you cherish it quite a bit. Sitting in silence after a long day at work soothes both your minds. But the man was right. Your mind isn't settled at all. No. It's buzzing with constant deadlines, family expectations, social commitments–  
"Okay it's him!" you blurt out, earning the attention of a few passing diners and even the bartender herself. Shoulders slouch as you grip the glass in front of you. Your eyes shift to your right, side-eyeing Yoongi, silently staring back at you.
"Jungkook...he’s just frustrating,” you finally say. “Fucking this girl, fucking that girl. Do you think I wanna know how many places he's stuck it in? No, I don't. But does that stop him?“
 You down your second shot. 
"He's been going on about the same lay for three years now. Three years, Yoongi. Honestly, how long's he going to keep it up? ‘They were begging to go again’, like who fucking cares?!” Blood boils through your veins.
A third shot. 
"I mean, how good can he be? If you asked me, he's average! Average Jeon Jungkook with probably an even more average dick!” 
“Damn, you’re pretty feisty angel.” A man slides on the stool to your left. “Calling me average and everything. Kinda hurts my feelings y’know?” 
You nearly choke picking up the man’s voice and scent– fuckin' Jungkook.
You swivel to face him. “Drop the pet names Jeon. I'm not your angel, and I seriously doubt I’m wounding any so called ‘feelings’,” you spit. “Why don’t you take your ego somewhere else…” You nod at the group of women gawking in the corner. Jungkook follows your gaze before meeting your eyes again.
"Not interested," he shrugs his shoulders.
“Oh wow, really?” Maybe sarcasm wasn’t the best way to go but since when did Jungkook start passing up overly eager women…shocker.
"Don't be insulting, __. I probably sleep around a lot more in your head than in real life."
"Please, who are you fooling," you reach for your fourth shot. Jungkook steals it out of your hand, however, shaking his head. 
"No, no, no." He sets the glass on his other side, furthest from your grasp. "Someone might be getting a little ahead of herself." 
Teeth clench. Is he patronising you?
"Do you mind?" The words spit out of your mouth. "I'm trying to sit and have a nice drink with my friend."
"And what friend would that be?" Jungkook leans forward in his seat, sparing a glance past your figure. 
"Yoongi."
"Oh, him…hate to break it to you but he left with some woman earlier.” 
You turn around immediately. He's gotta be messing around but damn– Yoongi really left you. That little snake. He'll be hearing from you tomorrow.
Rising from the barstool, you snatch your belongings and make your way to the exit.
.
"Where are you going, __?” Heavy feet patter after you, following you to the parking lot. "Just 'cause Yoongi's gone doesn't mean you have to leave." 
"I'm going home, Jungkook. 6am comes awfully quick." You want him to take the hint that you don't wanna stay but no such luck. You're instead blocked in your path, Jungkook facing you square on. He's a little close, but it doesn't matter. You'll just push around him.
"Alright, I'm sorry!" He wets his bottom lip. "If I've been too explicit about my private life, I'm sorry.” You watch as he rubs the side of his neck. “I tend-I tend to get carried away, especially around the guys. But after hearing what you said back there, I realize I should chill a little."
"Congratulations, you've figured it out.” You stare blankly at the man. “Can I leave now?" Brushing past him, you open your car door and jump inside. Dumb apology.
Fingers reach to shut the door, but Jungkook grips the rim, propping it open. "That can't be all." He leans down, shaking his head. "You clearly have some kind of vendetta against me and I'd like you to tell me why…please." 
You blink up, patience running thin. You’re wondering what you should say to get him off your tail, but the longer you linger the more it’ll look like you’re staring. And heaven knows Jungkook gets enough eyes on him as is, especially with his biceps bulging from his shirt.
Not that you’re paying attention or anything but take tonight for instance with those women ogling him in the bar. Like, did he have to wear a white tank top tonight? Show off.
“You’re so arrogant,” you say, clenching your fists. "You act like you're the best thing this world's ever gotten."
It’s obvious that your words strike a cord inside Jungkook. His face, riddled with concern and protest. 'Him, arrogant? What on earth is this woman talking about?' his eyes say.
"That's not true. When have I ever acted like that?"
Baffled. That’s what you are. It takes every ounce of gull left in your body to step out and meet the man at eye level.
"You're kidding. What do you call the constant retelling of your college fling then? Because you sure love the pedestal it gives you! Must have heard it fifty fricken times by now."
"Okay, maybe a bit then, but like I said I just get carried away. Lost in the moment if you will. The guys wanna hear it anyway, and it's just one story, __. Hardly enough basis to say I love myself or some shit."
"But that's exactly it, Jeon. You think everyone will worship at your feet just because you have that one story, a bunny like smile, and the body of a–"
"Woah, wait a second. Did you say worship at my feet? I get you're pissed off at me but come on, that's a bit much."
"It's n---shut up Jungkook!" You snarl. How dare he interrupt you after demanding you to tell him what's wrong. "Don't you ever get tired of running your mouth all the time?!"
"Me running my mouth? You're the one yelling sweetheart." His icy tone sets you off.
"Listen asshole, just for once, can't you just listen! You're so average, fuck!"
"Alright babe, I hear you, damn!" His eyebrows knit together. "And stop saying that I'm average! I'm not, okay?"
"There you go again, acting all entitled with that over inflated ego. I said it before and I'll never stop saying it–you're an average fuck! I don't care how many people you get in your bed."
Jungkook paces backwards, fingers laced behind his head. He cranks his neck back and chuckles. "Oh sweetheart, that's where you're so, so wrong."
"No idea what you're talking about," you say, unmoved.
He steps forward, complete disregard for your personal space. His breath heats your skin. "You absolutely care who I'm with...who I'm talking to...and especially who I'm fucking." He places a hand on the roof of your car. "You care so much that it's eating at you, bit by bit."
You do all you can to ignore the way the back of your neck fires up and how your heart picks up as he speaks but–dammit, this isn't the time! He's messing with your sanity. Or maybe, it's the shots kicking in. Both likely. Either way, you’ll be damned if you let him catch on.
"Fuck off Jungkook!" You push against his muscular chest. The force should have sent him stumbling back, but it only makes him slightly jolt. Courtesy of his rock-solid form.
"Why? 'Cause I'm right?" He traces down your figure. “ 'Cause you're scared of what will happen once we get close?”
Palms sweating, you struggle to form a proper response.
Option A: No, you're not scared in which Jungkook will likely challenge you.
Option B: Yes you're scared in which you let Jungkook be right and your efforts will be in vain.
Or Option C, what you've been doing all along: Fuck off!
Lust clouds over Jungkook's eyes as you remain motionless.
"How 'bout you prove it to me." His voice cuts through your contemplation. "That I'm wrong, that you don't want this, and I'll do the same for you."
You know exactly what he's insinuating– a one night stand. You swore you'd never give in to his antics. Then again, you never thought things would escalate this far either.
But if you agree to sleep with him now, you'll look like a hypocrite. And what of the countless speeches you made about not wanting to be another one of his swooning, giddy women? Still… it's not like you want to sleep with him. And if you do sleep with him, and he's average after all, you'll finally have something to testify to.
That'll knock him down a few pegs. 
"So…" You hear Jungkook drawl. "Is that smug expression you got on a yes?" 
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"Hurry up and unlock the door,” you snap, manners going awry. “I wanna get this done as soon as possible.”
"Relax will you.” Jungkook fiddles with his keys, nearly dropping them with every shuffle. “So bratty when you’re down to get some.” He ushers you forward once managing to crank the door open.
You ignore his snide remark, taking in the spacious room. “Don't tell me that's your bed,” you say. There, in the middle of the living room was a mattress. It was on the smaller side but not in bad shape. If that’s where Jungkook intends to give it to you though, you’ll gladly walk out.
“Seriously?” You're thrown a slightly pissed expression. “It’s for emergencies, okay? My room's down here." He breezes down the hall adjacent to the living room. You follow.
“Better?” A lamp switches on from the corner of the bedroom. The room’s a little bare but you can’t complain, at least it was clean.
"Yeah, its fine." You flicker your eyes at Jungkook, arms length away. Chest tightens, legs begin to shake.
This isn't a dream. You're fully conscious and you're about to jump in bed with Jeon Jungkook.
Inadvertently, you pause down at his lips–they look soft.
Oh fuck it...you can’t stomach anymore delays.
Feeling the adrenaline, you shake your coat off and toss it on the chair to the side. You march up to Jungkook next, grip the fabric of his shirt, and smash your lips against his.
It's unusual at first, sloppy even. You're moving your lips the best you can but it's a struggle getting into a rhythm. Likely because you've never kissed each other before, let alone made out.
The temptation to snort at how ridiculous the whole thing must look jabs at you. But it's when you feel Jungkook smiling through each kiss that it hits you like a ton of bricks–your lips have been the only ones moving.
"So that's how you kiss huh?" Breaking apart, he stares down at you, tongue in cheek. He's teasing you.
Rather than give an answer you smirk and twist the fabric of his shirt. You press your lips to his again but this time it's with more confidence and determination. A heavy grunt falls from his mouth and rough hands grip your hips as teeth clash against teeth.
"Fuck, slow down baby," Jungkook pants between kisses.
You ignore his plead and card through his hair with both hands, yanking on his soft, black strands. "I'm not your baby, Jungkook. Remember that."
Your back slams against the door instantly, knob rattling at the sudden pressure. With one hand, he anchors your wrists above your head while the tatted one wraps tightly around your waist. Saying this isn't turning you on would be a lie, a big fat lie.
"What do you want me to call you then?" Your thighs squeeze together when you feel his bulge brush against your center. His pecs graze atop your breasts too, causing a shiver down your spine. "Can't call you baby, can't call you angel."
You bite the inside of your cheek and gaze at Jungkook through your lashes. A devilish smirk spreads across his face at your chosen silence.
"Guess I'll have to figure it out along the way."
He inches forward, capturing your lips. His tongue licks the seam before pushing in the crevasse. Though you fight, you can't stop from moaning into his mouth.
You find your thoughts drifting to all the other places you'll feel his tongue tonight. Maybe on your neck, or your breasts, inside your thighs–fuck. You're about to soak your panties to bunny boy.
One by one, you feel the buttons of your silk blouse being pulled apart. The delicate material pools at to your feet in seconds, leaving you in your lacy white bra.
"Pretty," Jungkook plays with a strap before bringing his hands down to cup the swell of your breasts. "Not what I expected though...thought red was more your color." He flashes a cocky smirk.
"Very funny, Jung–"
You gasp when his thumbs start swirling tiny circles around your clothed nipples. "How hard are they?" He says.
"Take it off and find out."
"Fuck.” He squeezes your breasts. "You sure?"
Once giving a nod, you're pulled to the bed. Jungkook guides you on your back before settling himself around your waist in a straddled position. When he leans forward to reach behind your back, you feel his length poke you.
"Mm," you muffle a small moan.
He raises a brow. "What's gonna happen when I'm inside you huh?" The straps of your bra sweep off your shoulders. Cool air hits your breasts, nipples pebbling instantly.
"I can take it," you say.
Jungkook's eyes dilate at your bare breasted state. "Sure you can babe." The tips of his fingers graze along your sides. "Cause I'm just an average fuck yeah?"
His palms cup the underside of your boobs, squeezing lightly. He then lowers his lips to the ridge of your ear.
"Gonna make you come by your tits pretty girl." Your back arches as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh.
"Jungkook-"
"Fuck," he hisses. "Rolls off your tongue just right." He trails from your neck down to your naval, leaving open mouth kisses along the way.
Your core twists at the warm sensation. You wanna tell him not to leave marks but something inside you secretly hopes he does.
Jungkook traces back up your torso, giving your buds a few flicks with his thumbs before taking one between his lips. He sucks firmly, switching between breasts. Occasionally you let out a yelp when his teeth tug at them ever so slightly.
You desperately want to rub your thighs together due to the wetness pooling between them but the weight of Jungkook straddling you doesn't allow for much movement.
“Be a good girl and stay still," he says, cocky grin plastered on his face.
You're not a good girl, you pant back though your nearly frozen body would say otherwise.
A few more flicks of his tongue and you know he's made you come from your tits as promised.
Jungkook leans back on the his knees. "I really wanna fuck them now." He tugs on a nipple playfully but you slap his hand away.
"Don't even think about it," you say. "They're sore enough".
"You liked it though."
"Well no shit, I came didn't I? Can't believe it," you mumble under your breath. "Anyway, it's your turn now. Take your shirt off," you nearly demand."
"Even after coming, you're still a fiesty little kitten." He brings his arms around his waist. Your core tightens as you watch the white tank top lift up his muscular upper body and over his head.
"Satisfied?" He studies your expressions.
Instinctively, you trace down his sweaty build; starting with the collarbone. You work your way over to his shoulders after until his pecs draw your attention. And then his diaphragm, leading to the ‘v’ outlining his pelvis.
"Take them off too."
Jungkook gives you a pleased look. "Wanna see how average my cock is?"
You move to an upright position, face close to his. "More like wanna see what it can do." You snap the band of his sweats. "Hmm, what'd you think about that playboy?"
Jungkook's cock twitches. He needs to be inside you before he blows a load in his pants here and now. He gets up from the bed, hooks his thumbs in his sweats and pulls them down along with his briefs.
Alarms go off in your head as his half-harden cock is yanked out of it's confinement. It slaps against his abdomen, tip glowing with precum.
Swallowing, you fiddle with your own pants. It's huge and it's going inside you.
"What if I told you I wanna taste you first?"
You pause your movements and peer up at the man. "You mean...down there?"
You wanna slap yourself from how naive you sound but the thought of Jungkook's head between your legs was an affair you'd never predict to happen.
"Yeah pretty girl," Jungkook quips. "There."
"Uhm," you breath, stomach doing somersaults. "Okay."
He settles between your legs this time, panties kicked off in some odd corner of the room. He gives your inner thigh a kiss before running a finger up your slit.
A lusty moan leaves your lips.
He pushes in a moment later, making you gasp for air. Another finger pushes along side it and after a few pumps he's perfectly stimulating your g-spot.
"Jung-Jungkook fuck!" You grip the sheets from under you.
He brings his thumb over your clit, toying with the bundle of nerves. "Am I doing it right __?" He's teasing again.
You nod vigorously. "Don't stop...please. Don't you dare stop."
Jungkook hums in approval, low and breathy, but retracts his fingers from your soaking cunt. They're quickly replaced with his tongue however, licking a broad stripe up your folds. The action is repeated over and over until your once again digging your nails into his scalp.
"M' gonna come," you say with a shaky voice.
As if an invitation, he dips in your heat. A string of profanities spill out.
Shit shit shit, you chant as you release on his tongue.
Jungkook lifts his head up from between your legs and wipes his mouth off. "You're fucking sexy." He presses a deep kiss on your lips, long and messy. "And you taste sweet too."
"Fuck me," you nearly beg. "And call me a slut while your at it."
"You su–"
"You don't have to use a condom either. I'm on the pill."
"Real–"
"Yes Jungkook."
He shifts back from your body, chest inflating and deflating. "On your hands and knees then."
As soon as the words leave his mouth you flip over, your full backside in his view. Did you feel exposed? Hell yeah. But that's part of the fun.
You turn your head over a shoulder to see Jungkook inching behind you. From this angle you feel so small. You bite your lip, anticipation driving you wild.
"Don't forget what I asked for earlier playboy."
Hovering over your back, his breath tickling your skin. "And what makes you think I'll listen to you pretty girl?" His length brushes between your asscheeks.
You whine.
"Jungkook–"
All at once he aligns himself with your hole and thrusts himself in. The fullness of the stretch has your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"Fuck, you're so big," you moan.
"Yeah? You like this," he grunts, starting off a steady pace. "I knew you would." He nips your ear. "Cute how dumb little sluts like you think they know what they want, but really, they don't have a clue."
Your breathe hitches, squeezing around his length. "What about---fuck---assholes like you who decide what others want before asking?"
The bed jolts forward. You cling to all you can to steady yourself.
"It's not really deciding for others if they already want it, is it?" He snaps his hips. "I'm merely helping them, like an asset."
"Shu---god fuck!"
"Deny it all you want but we both know how hard this little pussy's clenching around my big, fat cock. Been wanting this for a while hasn't it?" Beads of sweat drip from Jungkook's brow. His wavy, black locks dangle in front of his eyes.
Helplessly, you start rocking yourself on him, meeting his thrusts in perfect sync.
"Holy shit–" Jungkook groans. "You get me so fucking turned around. Can't even be in a room with me for five minutes before you're clawing for a way out but here you are, desperate to take my cock."
"What can I say," you barely gasp, beyond wound up. "Can't stand arrogant jerks like you."
He snorts. "But you'll sure fuck 'em won't you? Slut."
Walls tightening, knees shaking, it takes only one last hard thrust and you're spasming around him.
Jungkook coaxes you through your high with broken grunts. "Fuck, you feel so tight and warm around me. Gonna come pretty girl? Gonna come all over my cock aren't you?"
"Jung---Jungkook!"
"It's okay sweetheart, you can do it. Fucking cream it."
And you do.
With his cock coated with your cum, Jungkook fucks through his own high. "Hang in there __, I'm almost there," he says, thrusts sloppy.
Once he releases into you his body grows limp on yours. A small yelp tells him to slide out and off you.
As you lie next to each other, panting heavily, you're the first to break the silence.
"I think I've proven my point. You gonna shut up about your story now?"
"I don't know which point that would be but sure," Jungkook turns his head to the side with a lazy smirk. "I'll shut up about the story. I have a new one on my mind anyway."
God what have you done. Uncaged the beast, that's what.
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A/N: thanks for stopping by, happy to hear your thoughts ☺💗
Masterlist
no reposting, copying, or translating my work
© kookslastbutton
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delcakoo · 1 year
Note
hiii emaaaa
ok so i have a request if you can write something for riki 😋
i have this like randommmm prompt in my head “can we js forget about it?” “you mean forget about when we kisse-“”STOP”.
like an e2l 🫣 if u can write it omg its totally okay if u cant!!
mua ily 💗
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part 2
SUMMARY ! how is niki supposed to focus on biology when his shy tutor is so irresistible and fun to tease?
PAIRING ! jock!niki x tutor!gn!reader
WC ! 800
WARNINGS ! smooching in the library smh
a/n: lilly baby !! this prompt is so cute omg thank u for the req <3 i hope u enjoy and ilyt :D
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3:39PM — being assigned to tutor the star player on your school’s basketball team — aka the biggest slacker of them all, nishimura riki — was probably the biggest obstacle you’d face during the entirety of your high school career.
you didn’t think he was unintelligible beyond saving — no, niki was rather quick with catching onto things when he actually tried. the real problem was that he preferred to stare at your pretty face (his words, not yours) all period then listen to the mumbo jumbo of you explaining the human body’s skeletal system to him, which turned out to be a detrimental issue during your sessions.
there you both sat; legs crossed and eyes focused as you point around different parts of the skeleton in your textbook while niki rested on his elbow, staring holes into the side of your face with a tiny smirk. every once in a while you pause and look up to ensure he’s listening, which he seemed to be doing okay at to your surprise.
“and right below the patella, we have the..?” you look up at niki with a questioning gaze, waiting for him to continue your sentence and demonstrate his listening.
the boy blinks, following your finger that’s pressed on the page, tapping the answer for him blatantly. then, he smiles, biting his lip mischievously. “mm.. if you recreate what we did at our last session, i’ll say it.”
you don’t need to pause and think to remember exactly what he’s referring to. gulping slightly, you glance off to the bookshelves nearby. “look, can we just forget about that?”
“what?” his expression grows brighter, enjoying your shy reactions to the fullest, “forget about when we kissed?”
“niki, stop talking so loud-“
“why? does it make you nervous?” you don’t reply, turning away only for him to lean over the desk to see you better. “ay,” he snickers, “what’s that on your face, y/n? are you blushing for me?” he giggles proudly, reaching over to push some hair behind your ear, successfully revealing more of the apple color painting your cheeks.
the only reason you’d agreed to the whole mess that ocurred last week was because niki promised to study for his upcoming test in return, which he did. in fact — he passed with flying colors, and it only encouraged you more to help him one way or another. the potential he held was begging for assistance, and if a kiss was the cost of that, it was a price you were willing to pay.
and maybe, just maybe because deep down, you’ve been wanting to kiss him as well. niki didn’t need to know that, though.
“shut up, that was for the sake of your grades, and grades alone,” you insist sternly. “now answer my question, what’s below the catella?”
“c’mon, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it too.” annoyingly, the jock dodges your inquiry, much too intrigued with the new conversation at hand.
“yeah well i- i didn’t.” shit, did you have to stutter now of all times?
before you could process anything, niki gently grabs your jaw, angling it back towards him softly. he waits for any signs of protest while staring down at you, curly black bangs covering parts of his sharp eyes, challenge burning in them at your previous denial. when you don’t push him away, he grins cheekily before bending down to meet your lips.
the kiss was soft and quick, but the plushness and confidence in his movements still made your head dizzy even as he pulled back and surveyed your dazed features, all while licking his lips again to taste the remnants of your own.
“how about that one?” he demands.
it takes you a moment to come back to earth, shaking your head dumbly as you realize he’s asking you to rate his kissing skills. “i- it was alright..”
his tongue clicks in offense, scooting closer to you with a damaged ego and flaring determination. “never would’ve thought my little tutor would be so hard to please.” as you open your mouth to protest, niki’s lips are back on yours, and this time he’s holding the back of your neck to deepen the contact as his other hand reaches over to slam your textbook shut, making you flinch slightly in his hold. “fuck bio,” he murmurs against your lips, “i can’t let you bruise my pride like that and get away with it.”
you gulp, glancing at the library clock only to have your eyes widen in horror. shit. your session with niki ended three minutes ago, and pretty much all you’ve done is make out.
yet.. you can’t find it in you to complain when the pretty boy leans back down for more.
basketball player niki,, 😇
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dreamcubed · 3 months
Text
false god | blaise zabini x reader
song; false god [taylor swift] pairing; blaise zabini x pure-blood!slytherin!fem!reader genre; arranged marriage, angst, hurt comfort, fluff, sort-of-e2l word count; 4,7k timeline; deathly hallows warnings; swearing, references to sex/hook-ups, references to battle injuries, questionable views on muggle-borns summary; you had been betrothed to blaise zabini practically your whole life, and while you moved in the same friend group, he had always avoided you. you tried to understand, you really did, but were you really so undesirable?
happy belated valentine's day!!
masterlist
"they say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith."
——————————————
The ring of plated white gold and emerald jewels had sat comfortably on your left ring finger ever since you had been big enough to wear it. It was worth a fortune, as your parents frequently reminded you, so it would be disrespectful to the Zabini family to not wear it with pride. You obeyed, even though Blaise - your affianced - had not worn his (more masculine) twin ring for as long as you had known him.
Sometimes you would catch the pitying looks of your mutual friends whenever the sun shone just right on the piece of jewellery, catching everyone's attention. They all knew that Blaise avoided you, never spoke to you, but it was an unspoken matter. You did your best to never show your hurt on your face, and be a strong and positive woman, like your parents had raised you to be.
You just wanted to make them proud.
It's not that you were in love with Blaise, not by any means. You would have to have actually spoken and bonded with the man to reach that stage. Regardless, rejection hurt, especially when you had no part in the arrangement of your marriage either. You were in the same position as he was, yet he acted as if you were at fault for the situation he found himself in.
You weren't a bad person, and you were at least decently attractive - was it really so bad to be betrothed to you? Why couldn't he just make the best of a bad situation and try to get to know you?
***
The Hogwarts Express had never been colder, even the warm red seats looked sallow and grey, reflecting the sullen looks on everyone's faces. You let out a sigh, pulling your thick jacket tighter around you and sinking into the cushions. Pansy was sat next to you, chewing on her lip thoughtfully as she stared at the water droplets cascading down the window. You hadn't said a word to each other apart from a greeting.
In fact, everyone on the train seemed to be sitting in silence.
Slytherin was the only house with almost full attendance from its students, as even the families who didn't support the death eaters felt confident in the safety of their children thanks to their blood status. The same couldn't not be said for the other houses, which had lost a good chunk of their students due to parental fears. Especially the muggle-borns - every single muggle-born you knew in your year had not shown up to catch the train.
It wasn't a mystery as to why: showing up to the school that was now overseen by Voldemort as a muggle-born was a death wish.
Despite its pure-blood status, your family didn't support Voldemort. That's not to say that they didn't have prejudices against muggle-borns, or that they would let you marry one, but they certainly didn't wish death upon them and would likely be okay with you befriending them. Just as long as you kept your bloodline pure.
The L/N family had remained a neutral party during the First Wizarding War, and were doing the same now during the second.
"Have you seen Draco?" Pansy asked, not even looking at you.
"I think I saw him at the platform at one point."
She hummed, and the silence fell again.
You began biting your nails.
***
The reign of Severus Snape as headmaster of Hogwarts had officially begun, casting an even more intense shadow over the school. As a Slytherin, this was actually quite good news, but you weren't so selfish that you could disregard the wellbeing of the other houses. Plus, the subject changes like Defence Against the Dark Arts becoming simply- the Dark Arts- were quite jarring.
"Can someone pass me the roast potatoes?" the emotionless voice of your fiancé rang out, signifying that he was talking to you. Normally, when talking to your other friends, he would smile, say please, even laugh. But when he was talking to you, he would do so indirectly and without emotion.
Sure enough, you were the person closest enough to the roast potatoes, but you decided to hold back in fulfilling his request, instead locking eyes with him. "Say please."
His eyes bored into yours for a few moments, before he scoffed and said, "Please."
"Was that so hard?" you mumbled, passing over the potatoes. Your friends had gone silent during the exchange, some of them sending pitiful glances your way. You were sick of being treated this way, both by Blaise and your friends, even if your friends did have good intentions.
You resumed your meal, aiming to at the very least enjoy the food of your last ever welcome feast at Hogwarts.
***
All you knew about Blaise was what your parents and friends had told you.
He was a pure-blood, and the son of a beautiful witch who had been widowed seven times under suspicious circumstances and become richer every time. As far as you could tell, it was highly likely that one of these dead husbands was Blaise's father. Admittedly, it made you nervous to marry into such a family, so perhaps it was a good thing that Blaise was so unwilling.
But your mother had told you that you had nothing to worry about, as Ms. Zabini only ever married bad men, and used it as a means to eradicate them.
"A noble cause."
Still, you had the rights to be nervous.
"Back to school party tonight," Millicent bounced up to you and announced, "Just us Slytherins."
"A party?" you had forgotten that such an event existed, given the misery of the world.
"I mean, yeah, we all need a pick-me-up," she shrugged, "It'll be in the common room. Bring firewhiskey."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but ultimately decided that drunkenness was just what the doctor ordered.
***
In your defence, you had started off slow with the drinks, mixing with lemonade and gradually sipping over a long period of time. However, once that system had (slowly but surely) gotten you drunk, all bets were off.
"Shots!" someone had shouted, and next thing you knew you were downing your sixth shot, after however many mixed drinks you had.
You stumbled away from the dancers to where some of your friends sat chatting, having the sudden feeling that you weren't too far away from passing out.
"Pansy..." you slurred, flopping on to the sofa next to her.
"Salazar, Y/N, how much have you drunk?"
Ignoring her question, you mumbled, "I feel amazing."
"A little self-control next time, yeah?"
You waved her off, no longer feeling like you were about to pass out so stumbling to your feet. You looked around the room with your eyes squinted, deciding that another drink was an excellent idea.
As you were on your way over - your friends calling after you - your vision became blurrier, until you bumped into a hard chest.
"What the fuck?" you cursed, narrowing your eyes and looking up at the person who inconvenienced you.
"Zabini," you muttered.
"Should you be getting another drink?" he asked.
You blanked him, "Does it kill you to be nice to me?"
He said nothing, biting on his inner cheek.
That was when the feeling of passing out returned, only this time in tenfold, making you drop forward. Your eyelids were heavy, you had to close them, and your body was heavy too, too much effort to remain stood up...
The only things you remember seeing after that were flashes of the stairs down to the dormitories - but you weren't walking, so how was that possible? And then throwing up in a toilet bowl, with your hair for some reason out of the way.
And then cushions, and quilt. But not yours: they smelled gorgeous, so you nuzzled your head into the scent and sighed dreamily.
***
When your eyes slowly peeled themselves open the next morning, your head was pounding and you were quite disoriented. Initially, you seemed to be tucked up in your own bed, but upon closer inspection you realised that the forest green decor was not in the usual place of the Slytherin seventh year girls' dormitories. In fact, this was a room that you had never seen before.
"You're up."
Your eyes shot towards the entrance to the connected bathroom, and every limb in your body froze as you laid eyes upon Blaise Zabini, already showered and dressed even though it was a Saturday.
"What- I-" you stuttered, sitting up in bed. You were relieved to see that you were still in the party clothes from the night before: you weren't opposed to a hook-up, but you would've liked to remember it.
"Relax," he sighed, "You blacked out last night. Carried you down here because I can't go down the girls' stairs."
You nodded slowly, trying to piece together the events, "Right..."
He said nothing, moving over to the dresser to spray a fragrance on his wrists. He truly was your typical classy rich boy. You took this opportunity to look around at the other beds in the room, seeing that the curtains were drawn around one in particular.
"Your beloved Pansy is in there."
Salazar, had she and Draco had sex while you were sleeping in the same room?
"At the very least they put a sound-proofing charm on," Blaise confirmed that thought, and you couldn't help but remark that this was the most he had ever spoken to you.
"Where did you sleep?" you had to ask.
This time, Blaise blanked you, his dark oak eyes void of emotion.
"Next to you," he eventually said, making your breath hitch. "Like we're not engaged, L/N," he scoffed, making you scowl.
"Since when have you acted like it?"
He didn't reply, and you decided that if you let it escalate to an argument, you might wake up the others. So, you forced yourself out of bed, picking up your shoes and leaving without another word.
Walk of shame, here you come.
***
Typically, if one of the girls in your dorm stumbled in the morning after a party in their clothes from the night before, there would be immediate questions of what happened and with who. But, when you entered your dorm, you were met with silence. Partially because half of the girls were still asleep, but mainly because the girls who were awake avoided looking at you.
Daphne was the only one forward enough to say something. "I saw Blaise carry you down."
To be fair, that would explain the lack of questions about hook-ups. They hadn't suspected that the two of you had sex. You simply hummed in response, just wanting to strip yourself of your clothes and makeup and crawl under your own duvet.
But Daphne still wasn't forward enough to ask if that meant your engagement had become a less cold one, as that would be entering the territory of the unspoken agreement to never mention the elephant in the room of Blaise's unwarranted disdain for you.
So, you were able to settle into a new slumber unhindered.
***
The party had been a pleasant but unfortunately temporary distraction from the miserable atmosphere that was Hogwarts. Learning the dark arts made you feel dirty, unclean - like you were announcing to the whole world that you were a death eater. You knew you weren't, and that you would never receive the Dark Mark, but you couldn't help but feel like a bad person.
You knew, however, that being a Slytherin meant the other houses looked at you with disdain, and also that many of your friends weren't entirely opposed to the Dark Lord's cause. It was something that made you sick to your stomach, yet you refused to voice these thoughts to anyone.
Not even Christmas could cheer you up, when before the colourfully decorated castle walls had filled you with a joy like no other. It didn't even feel like Christmas, it was as if all the saturation in the world had been lost, leaving behind a cold, dull grey hue. You had never been so sure of the fact that you would go home for Christmas than you were that year. At least your home wasn't shadowed by the rule of Voldemort, even if it was a tad cold and empty.
"I'll see you in the new year, yeah?" Daphne said to you, pulling you into a hug, "Have a good Christmas."
"You too," you returned the embrace, "And happy new year."
She smiled at you, and that was when you caught sight of Blaise in the corner of your eye. You hadn't spoken since the events of the Slytherin party, primarily because you had avoided him. But, he was walking towards you.
"Merry Christmas," he said monotonously, and Daphne took that as her cue to disappear.
"Merry Christmas," you said curtly back, picking up your trunk as you prepared to get off the train.
"Our families are having dinner together over the holiday."
You hesitated in your movements upon hearing that, but decided against replying, instead leaving him stood there with an expressionless face.
***
It wasn't that your parents didn't love you or care for you by any means, you knew that if you refused to marry Blaise Zabini they wouldn't disown you. But, they were raised with certain values and customs, and you had been raised into them as well. You wanted to make them proud - you just wished that the husband they had picked for you was a more willing participant in the arrangement.
So, when Blaise Zabini and his recently widowed (for the millionth time) mother arrived on your doorstep, the smile on your face wasn't entirely false. There were some truth to your emotions, despite the current state of the world.
"As you know, Blaise and Y/N are in their final year of Hogwarts," Ms Zabini spoke proudly once you were all sat around your dining table, "I believe it's time we start planning the wedding."
"I couldn't agree more," your mother replied, "It should be an elegant affair."
"That goes without saying."
You chewed on your lip.
"Y/N, what colour theme would you like?" your mother asked.
Your breath hitched, as you tried to scrape together a daydream of your dream wedding.
"Maybe pastel green?" you suggested timidly, "Since we're both Slytherins."
Ms Zabini nodded her head approvingly, "Is that agreeable to you, Blaise?"
The man shrugged, "Whatever Y/N wants."
"That makes things easy," the widow said, "It shall be a wonderful event."
***
After dinner, your collective parents had left you and Blaise to your own devices, suggesting that you show him your room. Part of you was surprised they were allowing a boy into your bedroom with no supervision, but you supposed some formalities were wavered due to your engagement to be married.
Blaise snorted when he entered your room: covered in moving posters and animated Lego sets, your four poster bed being pink and frilly with enchanted butterfly decor all around the wood.
"It's a bit mismatched," he said simply.
"It's home."
He raised an eyebrow at that, and silence consumed the both of you. The tension that hung in the air was thick, making you feel like you would go insane if you didn't say something.
"I'm not that bad, you know."
Blaise turned to face you from where he was sat at your desk, meanwhile you had perched on the end of your bed.
"I get that being tied to someone not of your choosing is a bit suffocating - believe me, I know - but you could make it easier for yourself by actually trying to get to know me."
"I do know you."
You rolled your eyes, "You know what I mean, Blaise," his first name was a foreign taste on your tongue, "You could have a worse wife than me."
He appeared to ponder your words for a while, stewing in the dampening tension of the atmosphere meanwhile you anxiously awaited his response. It was as if every action he took was intentional in making your nerves spike.
"The truth is, Y/N, I resent you."
You sat, stunned.
"My freedom to choose has been taken away from me."
Your blood boiled, making you stand up, "And I'm to blame for that? I'm in the same situation as you are, you knobhead."
He said nothing.
"I wasn't the one who made the decision. Stop acting like you're the only one here who's having a hard time."
Blaise went to open his mouth, but you carried on.
"Not to mention, there are people out there dying in the war right now," you vaguely gestured towards the window, "You should count your lucky stars that the biggest problem in your life is having to marry me!"
You scoffed, watching as he stared wide-eyed at you. After you realised he had nothing to say, you left the room to head down to the kitchens. Salazar, you needed a cup of hot chocolate after that whole ordeal.
***
The dark grey clouds cast a grim shadow over the once buzzing atmosphere of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and they only seemed to get gloomier by the day. It was all you could do to stand on the sheltered bridge as you watched rain pour down, even though it was meant to be Spring. The mood of the wizarding world had always had a strange effect on the weather.
Your gloveless fingers were beginning to grow numb in the cold, but you didn't move, nor make any attempt to warm them up. You just wish that you could say that your low mood was for something as selfless as the current danger muggle-borns were in. But, no, you were egotistically thinking about your own qualms - i.e. your upcoming wedding with a man who hardly looked your way.
Ever since the argument at Christmas, he had gone back to disregarding your existence, apart from the few occasions you would catch him staring at you when he thought no one was watching. Aside from that, both your mother and his were frequently owling you about decisions for the wedding, which was making the whole ordeal seem a lot more real than it did before.
"L/N," the last voice that you expected to hear called out from beside you.
Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to turn around, as if you were paralysed.
"You'll freeze to death out here," he spoke again, this time closer to you, "Everyone's wondering where you are."
Slowly, you turned your head to look at Blaise Zabini, your sallow eyes boring into his.
"They're looking everywhere for you."
"Tell them I'm fine," you eventually spoke.
"I don't think you are, though," he sighed, "You look like you're one minute away from hypothermia."
You shrugged, "Nothing magic medicine can't fix."
Blaise rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand, "Fuck, you're like ice."
That was when he started dragging you back to the castle, and you didn't have the energy to resist at all.
"What are you doing out here, anyway?"
You scoffed, "Like you couldn't guess."
He didn't reply to that statement, instead saying, "We're getting you warmed up."
He sat you in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room, wrapping a forest green blanket around you and placing a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hand. Your friends gathered around you, asking questions about where you had been and if you were okay, but you replied to none of them. Eventually, Blaise urged them all to give you space, letting out a sigh in the process.
Your heart twisted, and you attempted to suppress the pain by sipping on the drink.
It burnt your tongue.
"Careful," Blaise murmured, sitting on the sofa behind you.
You didn't even have the energy to scowl.
"We have our NEWTs soon, you have to take care of yourself."
That wasn't the only thing you had soon.
"You don't have to pretend like you care," you eventually forced out between chattering teeth.
You paused - waiting for him to say something. Anything. Part of you was praying to the gods above that he would say he wasn't pretending, that he did truly care. Instead, his silence was deafening, and your heart twisted and turned all that more. Why couldn't you just hate him?
Who would have thought it would be such a curse to have feelings for your fiancé?
***
Dust swarmed your senses, wrenching at your lungs and causing you to cough horrifically like you were a seasoned chainsmoker; you could barely see a metre ahead of you, and it was all you could do to shield your eyes with your arm as you progressed forwards. Through the crumbles and cracks, you could hear yells of Latin, thrown aggressively and with raw passion that had your blood spiking.
As far as you could tell, you were still in the dungeons - but you needed to get out of them, as they appeared on the verge of collapsing. You hadn't particularly engaged in any duels yourself, both because you were a coward, and because you lacked duelling skills. However, you had aided some students against the death eaters here and there on your progression through the castle.
You couldn't take a completely neutral stance like your parents.
You coughed harder, spluttering as your feet found stairs and began to climb up them - stumbling, but not falling.
"Help," a strained voice called out, making you assess the situation around you as best you could. As you inched further towards the left, you could make out the figure of someone stuck under rubble halfway up the staircase. You moved even closer.
"Blaise?" you croaked out.
A groan.
"Fuck," you mumbled, quickly muttering a spell to lift the rubble off of him. You saw the blood staining his clothes and gasped.
"It snapped my wand," he said, wincing as he tried to move.
You did your best to help him up, letting him rest his weight on your shoulders as you continued to push up the stairs.
"The dungeons are about to collapse," you said, carefully navigating your way around the corner once you finished the stairs.
"The whole-" he groaned, "-castle is."
You grimaced, "You need a healer."
But getting to the makeshift hospital ward without getting caught up in a duel would be quite a challenge. Then, it suddenly hit you.
"Which side are you on?" you quickly asked.
He scoffed, "Which side do you think? I'm still here." He then hunched over with an even louder groan than before, you swiftly moved to support his weight more.
Most Slytherin students who were either neutral or on the side of the death eaters had abandoned Hogwarts instead of staying to fight. You were a coward, but you would never have been able to forgive yourself if you had left. Instead, you found yourself stuck in the dungeons, some way, somehow.
"You stayed to fight," you murmured.
He went to say something, but another sharp pain coursed through him.
"Fuck," you cursed.
***
By some miracle, you reached the hospital ward with minimal further damage, and managed to get Blaise seen to instantly. You were amazed that they didn't question two Slytherin students being on their side, but you supposed it made sense: they were the good guys.
As you watched them take his shirt off to assess the damage, a glimmer of something against his chest caught your eye. It was connected to a thin silver chain that dangled around his neck, showing slight signs of wear and tear, implying he didn't even take it off when showering. When your vision cleared, you realised that the shimmery object along the chain was none other than the white gold band of green jewels that was the matching pair to the ring on your finger.
A lump caught in your throat, "You're wearing it," you choked out.
Blaise's eyes were shut, but he smiled tiredly, "Always."
Tears pricked at your eyes.
***
Eventually, what would be known as the infamous Battle of Hogwarts ceased fire: Lord Voldemort had fallen at the hands of Harry Potter. But there weren't cheers.
There was only devastation.
The wreck that the once majestic Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had become, and the subsequent deaths of thousands of kind-hearted people who had so much life to live. It was the epitome of bittersweet to watch people going around clearing up after the battle. You were grateful to be among the living, sat next to Blaise as he slept restlessly on a mat on the floor.
There wasn't really anyone else for you to talk to in the aftermath after all: Slytherins were quite isolated from the other houses, and hardly any Slytherins had stayed.
You allowed yourself the luxury of taking Blaise's hand in your own and squeezing it gently, letting a solitary tear cascade down your cheek. Was it relief? Was it hope? Was it happiness? Or was it sadness? Melancholia? Regret?
You didn't know, you simply allowed the feeling to wash over you.
"I didn't stay to fight," Blaise said out of nowhere, his voice gruff and quiet.
"Hm?"
"I stayed because you stayed."
Your heart jolted at his words, "Really?"
"Of course," he peeled his eyes open, "'Til death do us part."
You squeezed his hand again, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you act like you hated me?"
He sighed, appearing to be gathering as much energy together as he could, "I resented you, yes, but I- I was also scared of hurting you. You know what everyone thinks of my mother - that she's a-" he coughed, "-serial killer. Killing her husbands."
You admired his smooth face, despite its cuts and gashes.
"I was scared of becoming her, and I didn't want that to be your fate."
You reached out a hand to graze his prominent cheekbone, letting the tiniest of smiles tug at your lips.
"We'll be okay, Blaise," you murmured softly, "You're not like her."
He smiled slightly, wincing in the process. "No arranged marriages for our kids?"
You nodded, "No arranged marriages for our kids."
***
Your parents walked either side of you as you made your way down the grassy aisle, the summer heat blazing down on to the prettily flowered meadow. In your hands was a bouquet of white and pastel green peonies, and on your figure was a gorgeous princess ball gown that cost a small fortune. All your family and friends were stood up from their seats, gazing at your every move. Blaise, proudly stood at the altar in a black suit with a mint coloured waistcoat, was no exception. His eyes were trained into yours, making your heart flip tenfold.
Meeting him in front of the officiant, you passed your bouquet off to Pansy before allowing yourself to truly smile in your fiancé's presence. He took your hands into his and squeezed ever so slightly, as the officiant began to speak.
It felt like forever before the vows.
"I, Mr Blaise Zabini, promise to take Miss Y/N L/N to be my wife, and to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part."
He slipped the ring on to your finger, where it settled above your engagement ring.
The attention was then on you.
"I, Miss Y/N L/N, promise to take Mr Blaise Zabini to be my husband, and to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part." You pushed the larger ring on to his finger.
"I now, by the power vested in me, pronounce you husband and wife."
Blaise swooped down to kiss you warmly on the lips as cheers erupted from the crowd, and you found yourself smiling into his lips.
"I love you," he whispered. Words he had never spoken before.
"I love you too."
'Til death do us part.
—————————————
masterlist
written; 27/12/2023 —> 15/02/2024 published; 16/02/2024 edited; —/—/——
153 notes · View notes
liveyun · 11 months
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h a e g e u m · i n d e x
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banner by @archivedkookie via @archivededits ; t h a n k y o u 🥹
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—p a i r i n g : yoongi x female reader
—g e n r e : 18+ e2l? crime au, thriller, mini series, angst, smut
—w : (stated in each chapter specially) crime, injuries, explicit language and graphic scenes + language of corruption and physical harm (in forms of k*lling) or innuendos, gore, injuries, g*ns, weap*ns, implied past friendship between the characters (?) angst, eventual smut
—this fic is totally for 18+ for the content it contains. i’m not responsible for the feed you perceive, so be careful. minors stay away.
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taglist form
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—teaser
red.. alert?
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—chapter 1 : red alert
you're sure that you're trapped in the depths of danger. but to realise that danger was slowly engulfing you, maybe you were a bit too late.
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—chapter 2 : whose fault?
when it's already done, he realises that good things have always resisted his shadows.
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—chapter 3 : mirage
maybe it's not at all meant to be, but it's too late. the ban is lifted off, and the depths are forever empty.
5% written.
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—drabbles
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· interlude : 2009
it's okay. your heart tugs at its strings, but you're alright with the small, cherished moments you spend with him..
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liveyun 2023. do not copy or translate, or post in any other platforms.
576 notes · View notes
constantinerkives · 11 months
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PAIRING: Yoo Jimin x Fem Reader _________________ WARNING: Mafia AU, gang AU, organized crime, dark Karina, age gap: Karina is in her early thirties while you are in your mid-twenties. Separation of parents, power struggle, corruption, home invasion, blackmail, E2L, TENSION, I made Karina half-Russian so-*gunshot*, but please, let me know what you think of half-Russian Karina - it's for research purposes, usage of Russian endearment, betrayal (not from Karina), Karina is slightly obsessed with OC, OC is reckless but dangerous, suggestive at the end. _________________ SYNOPSIS:
I hate you," You breathe into her mouth, your thoughts are muddled by nothing but her. Her scent, her abysmal eyes, her beautiful black hair, her devastatingly gorgeous face - all of her.
"I hate you so much that I can't think of anything else but you."
Karina chuckles and softly pecks the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as her hands caress your body.
"If that's the case," She rasps against your skin, and you softly gasp as she squeezes your hips.
"Then give me one night to convince you otherwise, my love."
_________________ WORDCOUNT: 10, 214 _________________
A/N: Sorry for making you all wait this long, my exams were in the last week of May and due to the uncooperative weather - were moved to the second week of June.
Thank you for waiting. Enjoy reading!
And also because:
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You asked, I shall deliver
Russian-translated words are here.
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Dynasties are a succession of people from the same family who play a prominent role in business, politics, or another field.
And like all dynasties - they fall. Either by sickness or by each others' hands. 
In your family's case, however. It's the latter. 
Greed and ambition can make a man overlook crucial things, such as researching land in Tuscany before seizing its valuables and burning the farm. And as for the valuables in that mansion, most of them were sold, some were kept, and the rest were disregarded. For months, your family made a fortune out of it. 
It was only when masked, tall men broke into your family's vacation home, killed all the guards, and forced you to kneel beneath the barrels of their guns. 
Your watch from the back of your parents as your assailants part to make way for a woman, her face covered by the shadows, but you see her eyes. Black and devoid of warmth. 
"Who are you?" Demanded your father, "And how dare you attack my family in my home?"
Silence permeates the air. The woman spoke: "Hae Jinwon," Her voice was alluring yet sharp. There was a noticeable rough accent in her tone. "Capomandamento of the Haewon Clan." She mused. "Who the fuck are you?" Your brother spat beside you. The woman moves her gaze from your father to your older brother, Hae Jinyoung. "It was you, who led your father's men to my property in Tuscany, am I correct?"
"Yeah?" He challenged, "And what about it?"
"Ublijudok," She sneers and points the gun at him. 
Your eyes widened as your parents spat out cries of panic while Jinyoung visibly pales at the sight of the latter's gun. "Fools," She jeers as she redirects her aim and pulls the trigger. Your ears ring at the sound of her bullet wheezing past you and hitting one of your mother's vases, shattering it; pieces of ceramic fall on the floorboards. Your skin prickles at the sound as the woman points her gun at your father. 
"Do all of you have any idea how many enemies came into my home at this hour and threatened my family?" She snarled and walked forward, allowing you to see her face - beautiful and twisted with wrath and contempt. She wore an all-black attire, an overcoat, a turtleneck, trousers, and boots. Your eyes trailed to her gloved hand where she was holding a gun. "For months, we were hunted like animals." She grimaced, "And when they had their fill, they left us to rot. But I refused my family to succumb to that state and found the fuckers behind it."
She circles your family like a lioness examining her prey before killing it. 
"It's insulting," She scoffs, "To have everything I built destroyed by a minor family and reaped our benefits." She stops behind your father and digs the muzzle against the back of his skull. "I should kill all of you right here, right now." The perpetrator growls and applies pressure against the trigger.
Your ears couldn't register the cacophony of your family's panicked cries. Only you remained silent, watching with wide eyes as they struggled against their bindings while they plead for their lives. And she cackled - the perpetrator cackled. "That's right," She mused sickly, "Beg for it - your lives until no one understands what you all are saying." She moves in front of Jinyoung and crouches to meet his gaze.
"You're the oldest, right?"
His lips quivered. The woman was losing her patience and glowers at him. "Answer me, svin'ja." 
Jinyoung gulped, "Yes," 
"Then that means you'll take over once your father is out of commission, yes?"
"Yes?" He answers tentatively. 
The latter hums, "Do you know who I am, Hae Jinyoung?"
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The woman clicked her tongue, "Answer me immediately, boy." She pointed the gun at you, and you flinched. "Or else your sister's brain will be riddled with bullets." 
"No!" He exclaimed, "No, I don't have a fucking clue who the fuck you are-"
She hits him with the butt of her gun, silencing him as your father exclaims. "Jinyoung!" He roared, "You bitch-"
"We're done here," She declared, and her men vacated the house one by one - except for her. "Why spare us?" Your mother questions. The woman didn't say anything at first as she moved her gaze toward you and answered:
"Because it'll be too easy. You took away my family's foundation - so I shall take away yours." A cold smile settles on her lips, "And finally, we're even. What's the fun of ending it quickly when you can leave them alive so they can suffer for it?" 
None of you made a sound, and she took it for her cue to leave. 
She didn't return after that. 
But true to her word, your family did suffer for it. 
Enemies came left and right. They robbed your family of its treasures, stole opportunities from the Haewon Clan, and even turned your people away from you. It got to the point that your parents separated. Your father kept your brother. He was the heir: while your mother took you. You never saw your father or your brother ever since. You thought that you'd turned over a new leaf, forgetting that humiliation that left you seething with anger and resentment for your father's stupid choices and for allowing his greed to put you and your mother into that position. 
But no, it remained. 
Evidence of that showed when your grandfather - your father's side of the family visited you at your university when you were nineteen. 
"Excuse me," You blinked at the older man, "You want me to go where?"
"Come back to us, Y/N." Your grandfather coaxed. You scoffed at him, "And do what?" You demanded, "Is my older brother not good enough to lead this god-forsaken family?"
A wry smile graced his thin lips, "Yes," 
You paused, "What?"
A sigh left his lips, "After returning from Italy to fix the mistakes my son and your brother made. I've concluded that neither is fit to lead the Haewon Clan." 
You knew where this conversation was going. Yo arched a brow, "And you think I can?"
"An old man can hope." Another scoff of disbelief leaves your lips. "Take your hopes with you and leave, grandfather." You sneered, "My mother and I want none of them." Without another word, you walk past the latter with a dark expression. 
"Don't you want to settle the score?" He called out. You stopped. 
"Don't you want to get even with the family who did this?" He added, and you ground your jaw so hard that you thought it was going to break. You balled your hand into fists and peered over your shoulder, "What makes you think I'd be interested?"
You didn't move as he made his way to you, "Your eyes say it all, granddaughter. I don't have to explain it, do I?"
You turn to him. Your expression was unreadable, but your eyes burned with vindication. 
"Under two conditions."
His eyes light up. "And what's that?"
"Allow me to finish college, and in the meantime - teach me what I need to know." He furrowed his brows, "Wouldn't that distract you from your studies?"
"I'll manage it," You snapped, and he nodded. "Alright, what's the other one?"
"I won't take your name." You tell him firmly, "I refuse to be associated with the name: Haewon. Instead, I'll take my mother's last name, Han." 
"Very well," He gives in, "Y/N Han." 
And for years, you rebuilt what your family had lost: money, security, fame. While you repair your foundation, you bid your time into researching the family that destroyed you and retaliated. It was small at first until you began stealing their clients, information - all of it. One by one, you stole from them. 
It's only a matter of time before the new capomandamento takes matters into her own hands and captures you for your deeds against her family. 
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Upon further research, the family you're holding a vendetta against is a Russian-Korean family named the Zakharov Clan.
And their two children - Ilina and Karina Zakharov.
Ilina, the woman who broke into your home, died three years ago after one of their men turned against her in an attempt to start a coup by shooting a bullet to her head. But he was swiftly killed by her sister - Karina, earning her Ilina's status and authority as the new capomandamento of the Zakharov Family a week after her sister's burial in Moscow.
Karina is fifth-generation old money. Her family is a mix of Russian kingmakers that made a fortune importing illegal goods during The Great Depression in 1929 and later established a globe-spanning empire in organized crime. A family long since retreated from public view, but their dominance endures to this day.
"The only gap we have in that family is that we don't know anything about the Zakharov's new capo." Your consigliere admits with a sigh, "No photos, records of any kind. Just the name."
You put the dossier down and locked eyes with the latter, "That's good enough for me, Kazuha. Send out the invitations."
She looked apprehensive, "Are you sure?"
"Yes," You tell her with finality. "I've made my move. I will await hers."
Kazuha didn't say anything as she took the dossier, "Before I forget, someone sent you a package." You arched a brow, "A package? What sort?" She shook her head sideways, "I didn't open it."
A hum reverberates from your throat, "Where is it now?"
"I sent it to your room, and before you can ask, it didn't have a return address. I suggest that I open it while you watch." You guffaw, "And I thought you were just a consigliere, not my guard."
"You are my employer and my friend, Y/N." She insists, "And I've made a promise-"
"To my mother, I know." You finish for her as you stand up. She follows your example as you gesture a hand toward your door. "Lead the way, Miss Nakamura."
"It's a dress," You mused as you stood beside her, your eyes lingering on the top cover. "From Givenchy. Is it from Jaehyun?"
The younger woman furrows her brows, "That man can't pick a dress for you to save a life, Y/N." She closes it, "Perhaps he asked a stylist to pick it for you." You hum and gently take the box from her and open it to see the dress. It was a black one-shoulder draped dress in crepe with a fluid skirt and a long slit in the front. "There's also a jewelry set," Your consigliere mused. Your eyes moved to the jewelry box nestled within.
"Jaehyun must've paid extra for these," You remarked as you carefully put the dress down and opened the jewelry box. It contained a necklace with golden-finish metal links and a bracelet in golden-finish metal with Swarovski crystals.
"Return this to him." You put the dress and accessories inside the box and turned away from the gift.
"I already have a dress in mind for next week's gathering." You tell the younger woman as you walk past her.
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The first time you met her, she played you at your game. 
Music plays through the speakers, accompanied by cheerful yells and self-indulging conversations as you watch all of these play beneath you from the elevated interior balcony of the venue with a glass of champagne in your hand and your consigliere standing to your left, her eyes sharply examining the attendees of the event. For tonight's event, you wore a black deconstructed cape cocktail dress featuring slashes, lapel detailing, and two flap pockets on the sides, finished with a single-button fastening and heels. 
While Kazuha wore a navy blue monogram shirt dress and boots. 
She leans close and whispers through the blaring music, "How would you know if she's here?"
You take a swig before replying: "People talk big about themselves in events like these, Kazuha. One of them is bound to slip." 
The younger woman blinks at you, "You don't know?"
You flash her a grin before descending the stairs. Kazuha follows your figure with disbelief etched in her graceful features. "Y/N, this is dangerous-"
"Jaehyun!" You call out as you see a familiar towering figure donning a two-piece suit and black hair conversing with a group of benefactors. The man turns to you and grins, "Y/N," He then looks at his audience and excuses himself before coming to you with open arms, his double-breasted blazer wrinkled. "My - you look delectable!" 
Once you're at arm's reach, he takes your hand and kisses the back of your palm. "To what do I owe the pleasure of having your attention tonight?" He queries as soon as you retract your hand. "How are the acquisitions for the farmland in Tuscany?"
Jeong Jaehyun, a family friend and your business partner since your return, is your man when it comes to international profits and investments. He was also the one who helped Kazuha in finding information about the Zakharov Clan, albeit it had gaps. 
"The owners are still deciding on it, Y/N." He says as he walks beside you with Kazuha trailing behind, "But I guarantee they'll sign the papers." 
"Good," You peer over your shoulder. "Leaves us, Kazuha. You have the luxury of mingling with our guests." The younger woman doesn't protest and bows before leaving. 
You crane your neck to study your attendees. Jaehyun follows your gaze and chuckles. "Looking for Miss Zakharov?"
"I don't even know who I'm supposed to look at," You comment, and Jaehyun frowns, "You're endangering yourself, my friend." 
"It's a long shot," A grin graces your lips, "But worth a try." Before he can reply, you cut him off. "By the way, that dress you sent me a week ago was nice." His frown deepen as you continue, "It's a shame that I already have a dress for tonight's event." 
He stops, and so did you. "Y/N, what are you talking about?"
You mirror his frown, "You didn't send me a dress?" 
Your business partner grasps your arm. "Y/N, I stopped sending you dresses the moment you said my taste for women's clothing was questionable." Your face blanks at the revelation, "So you're not the one who sent me a dress from Givenchy?"
"No," He hisses, "It wasn't me-"
"Jaehyun!" Another voice interjects. You both snap your heads toward a younger gentleman, and he flushes. "What is it, Mark?" 
"Mingyu wants to talk to you." 
"Alright," Jaehyun sighs before looking at you. "Be careful, Y/N. We'll talk later." 
"We will," You tell him, and you steel your composure. 
"Now go." The man obeys as the music changes to a livelier beat - on cue, your guests gather to dance with a partner next to them. You watch with a slight smile gracing your lips as you take another swig of your glass before placing it atop a random countertop. 
You felt a presence beside you, and with careful eyes, you regard the stranger - a woman with tall stature and pale skin. She wore a black wrap-over top with a plunging neckline, allowing you to see her carved collarbones and pale skin, flared tuxedo pants, a buckle-thin belt, and leather zipped boots. Her hair is black and luscious, cascading down to her waist with her slender fingers securing the stem of her champagne glass. 
"You didn't wear the dress I sent for you." She tells you with a distinct accent - Slavic. 
You arch a brow; she sent you the dress? 
"And who might you be?" You are bemused, and the woman finally looks at you. 
Beautiful is an understatement. The woman standing beside you couldn't be older than thirty-three, small-shaped face, a v-shaped jaw, a sharp upturned nose, red lips, and abysmal, obsidian-hued eyes. Beautiful, but there's something amiss. 
A smile made its way to her lips as she timely placed her half-finished drink atop the tray of the waiter and gestured an open palm toward your direction. 
"How about I answer that with a dance?" 
A wry smile made its way to your lips. "What makes you think I'd want to dance with you?"
The latter smirks, "You'll regret it if you don't." You frown at her response. 
She turns to you, allowing you to see her perfect proportions. Her attire compliments her lean figure as she places a hand atop her right breast and bows. She lifts her head to look at you expectantly. "So what will it be?" She holds out her hand toward you. 
You narrow your gaze at her, "I'm in no position to refuse, am I?" 
The woman grins, "Da," 
Without another word, you take her hand, and she swiftly sweeps you off your feet as she leads the dance. Her left grasps your hips while the other intertwines with your right. Your left-hand hooks onto her broad shoulder. 
"Your photos don't do you justice, dorogoj," She tells you with a smile, "You look prettier in person." 
"Who are you?" 
The enigmatic stranger doesn't reply and gracefully spins you, pressing her front against your back, eliciting a sharp gasp from you as she traps you against her body. "Y/N Han, formerly known as a Hae, daughter of Hae Jinwon." 
"That information is given." You tell her as you turn around, returning to your first position. "Who. Are. You." 
Her lips curl upwards, "Do you know 'The Red Shoes,' written by Christian Andersen?"
"And what does that have to do with who you are?" You retorted, patience waning as she coaxed your body to turn. "Oh, pretty girl." She purred, "It has something to do with your relationship with me." 
Your brows furrow, "What do you mean?"
Instead of directly answering that question, she replies with a different narrative:
"The little girl wore her red shoes everywhere she went, even to a God-fearing church. Once you wear those shoes, your feet start dancing on their own. And you can never stop dancing or take off those shoes. But even so, the little girl never gave up on those shoes. In the end, the executioner had to cut off her feet." 
Her expression changes to a cold, harsh one as she continues: "But those two feet that got cut off continue to dance in those red shoes." 
A blood-curdling smile curls on the woman's lips as you stop dancing. Her hand snakes around your hips, flushing you against her while the other cups your cheek. You stood frozen still as you try to comprehend what she just said. 
"You see, dovol'no devushka," She sneers as she caresses your cheek. "You stole from my family - it was small at first, but I began to notice it." You ground your jaw as the atmosphere becomes heavy and foreboding. "I see that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." 
You sneer at her, and your hands finally move by digging your blunt nails against her shoulder - her pupils dilated with twisted excitement as you lean close, finally smelling her scent; top notes of mulberry and black peony followed by middle notes of jasmine and tuberose with hints of black musk and vetiver base notes. 
The scent suits her; sultry, dark, and alluring. 
"Karina Zakharov," You rasped, and she grins, "Pravil'no," 
Before you can react, she effortlessly manipulates your body to a dip, just as violins soar higher. Your nails shamelessly claw her attire, and the woman visibly lights up with twisted delight as the shadows mask her face. 
"Your obsession with finding me has come to fruition, Y/N." Karina husks as she lifts you back up, "You wanted my attention - fine." She leans close - and you let her. Her cold breath fans the left outer shell of your ear, and you muffle a gasp. 
"I shall share your fixation. I'll hold you captive beneath me while I take what you most treasure on this earth." 
She growls as she tightens her hold around you. 
Karina's other hand goes up to the back of your neck, reaching to your roots and purchasing a handful of your hair, and pulls it back. You muffle a groan as you glare at her while she looks down on you condescendingly with contempt. 
 "Oh," Her chest rumbles as she chuckles, "Don't look at me like that, moya ljubov. You brought this upon yourself." She leans close, lips almost touching yours as she speaks in full Russian:
"Ty pozhnaesh' to, chto seesh." Karina jeers, "You reap what you sow." 
And before you know it, you feel something pierce the side of your neck. You look at her, appalled as the dancers surround you and Zakharov's capomandamento. Your body feels heavy, and your eyelids heavier. You stagger in her grip, "What did you..." You trailed off as your speech slurs. You peer over her shoulder and spot Kazuha and Jaehyun marching toward you with alarmed expressions, your guards following behind them. 
Karina chuckles as she brushes a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. 
“Your obsession is noble and beautiful, Y/N.”
“What did you do to me,” You stammer as you feel your grip on consciousness slipping. 
“And I’ve finally found my red shoes.” 
With that, your body shuts down. 
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The sound of metal scraping the floor jerks you awake, your fight or flight response activates, and blood rushes all over your body - forcing you into consciousness. 
Pain follows second. 
A groan leaves your lips as your head throbs and your legs feel sore. Your arms were bound behind your back, clasped together by chains that rattle with every move. Flashes of last night's events replay in your memory like a broken record - your face burns at the memory. But rather than throwing a tantrum in your new-found cell, you held your breath before exhaling slowly and examining your surroundings. 
Your senses heightened. 
Cement walls surround you, four walls devoid of warmth. The lighting is poor, only consisting of a bulb hanging over your head. The atmosphere is damp and cold. You look down at your dress; no doubt it was wrinkled and tattered by the people who dragged you here. You move your head upwards and spot a CCTV camera focused on you. 
You hear a set of footfalls approaching from behind. Questions flooded your thoughts - how could you have missed that? This god-forsaken place is dark. You should have heard a sound - anything. 
"You're awake," Your skin prickles at the familiar accent. Your expression darkens as Karina approaches you from the shadows. Her features are poised and relaxed in contrast to yours. 
"How long have I been unconscious?" 
A wry smile graces her lips, "Seven hours - I was beginning to think I overdosed you, dorogoj."
You sit on the back of your legs and shamelessly run your eyes down her body. Unlike her attire last night: Karina's wearing a white, buttoned-dow shirt, black tapered pants, and loafers. 
"Eyes up here, velikolepnyy." She mused, "Otherwise people might get the wrong idea of our dynamic." 
A scoff leaves your lips. "I'm not interested." 
She lets out a dark chuckle as she stalks toward you, the glint in her eyes changing to a menacing gleam as she bends and grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at her - the distance between your faces is only inches apart, and the atmosphere thickens. You held your breath at her proximity as her eyes trailed your features, from your eyes down to your lips. 
"I could tempt you," She rasps against your lips, and a wolfish grin creeps on her lips. "But I don't fraternize with thieves." 
You mirror her grin, although mockingly. "Oh?"
"$10,000,00.00 Y/N." She bemused, and her eyes shapen with contempt. "That's a large sum of our income." She tightens her grip on your jaw, but Karina doesn't dig her nails against your skin. 
"If that's the case, then I'm sorry." You jeer as you dig your nails against your palms. 
There's a pregnant pause, and silence permeates the air so heavily that you were tempted to break it, but she beats you to it.
"Don't be," Her tone changes, and those black, abysmal eyes swim with twisted mirth. "If anything - I'm impressed." The older woman lets go of your jaw and turns around. You use this opportunity to stretch your jaw and clamp it shut when she turns to you and folds her hands behind her back. 
"Does that mean you're letting me off the hook, Zakharov?"
She guffaws and grabs you by the collar, startling you as she bares her teeth. Your chains rattle at her sudden action. 
"Nyet," 
"I'm assuming that's a no," You hiss as she violently lets you go. "You're correct," She fixes her shirt. Before you can choose your words wisely, you blurt out:
"Are you going to kill me for it, then?"
She stares at you, her expression unreadable, before replying in a monotonous tone: "No, but my sister would." She inclines her head to the side, "But I am not Ilina." She leans down. "I am worse, Y/N." Karina chortles, "Why did you have to come back to this kind of life?" She steps back.
"You had your chance to live an ordinary life, dorogoj. You chose this, and now you deal with me." 
There's something in her eyes that unnerved you. 
"What are you going to do?" You inquired, but your voice sounded distant. 
She didn't answer and turned around, "Behave yourself, Y/N. My capo bastone will send you your food. Don't do anything stupid if you want your family to stay alive." 
Your face burned at her statement. "Don't you dare-"
"I've told you, pretty girl." She sneers, "You made your move, and I will make mine. You are in no position to threaten me."
Your blood boils as she continues: "Especially when you're the one who is in chains." 
Then she walks away from you. You dig your nails against your palms so hard you thought they'd bleed in an attempt to soothe your urge to bash someone's head in anger.
"Don't you dare touch them," You whisper as she leaves you in the dark. 
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Winter Kim is Karina's capo bastone, the underboss. Short-haired, pale, and brunette - socially inept too, given that Winter's impervious to conversations, only saying yes, no, or I can neither confirm nor deny that. 
She's the one bringing you food and water for the past four days. 
But you refuse to eat what's being handed to you, even if they loosen your binds so you can eat better. That did nothing. You'd rather starve than be poisoned by your captor. 
One day, Winter and a couple of guards enter your holding cell. She stands in front of you while her guards release you from your binds. "What's going on?" You question as they grab you by the arms and force you to stand up, your legs wobbling from sitting and kneeling for the past few days. 
"Don't do anything stupid," She replies, "We're taking you to her." 
"That's probably the longest sentence I've heard from you." You jeer. The brunette ignores it and gestures a hand toward the shadows. "Take her out." 
They obeyed and escorted you outside. The brightness hurts your eyes, and your ears buzz with the sound of nature as they drag you out of your detainment. You look over your shoulder to see the structure of your 'dungeon,' it is a modest-sized house with no second floor.
A few paces later and they take you to an elaborate garden surrounded by gardeners trimming bushes and wiping statues. 
In the center seats a figure eating her food with gusto. Your eyes narrow, and you ball your hands to distract your hunger as the figure looks up. "Ah, there she is," Karina puts down her utensils, wipes her mouth with a napkin, and gestured a hand at a vacant seat across from her. "Be seated, Y/N." 
The men drag you to the seat, but you stop them with a glare. 
"I can do sit by myself - let me go." They look at her for permission, and she permits it with a nod. The guards let go of your arm. You can feel Winter's gaze following your movements as you sit across the older, raven-haired beauty. 
The latter gestures a hand towards your plate: "Reverse sear steak," She tells you as you look down at your food. You ground your jaw as your nose catches the whiff of the dish - your stomach growls. "I had my finest chef cook it for you." 
You look at her dead in the eye, "I'm not hungry," 
A scoff leaves her lips as the older woman crosses her arms. "That's a lie, dorogoj. You haven't eaten." 
Her statement elicits an arched brow from you, "Aw - you're worried." 
Karina's lips curl upwards, "I don't have any use of you if you're dead, Y/N." Her gaze sharpens, "Eat," 
"And how do I know the meals you have been sending me aren't poisoned?" You countered. She blinks at you, bemused. "Poison is a coward's weapon, Y/N." 
You incline your head to the side, "I need a guarantee, Zakharov, not assurance." The latter hums and uses her fork, wipe it with a napkin, stabs one of your steak cuts, and brings it to her mouth. Her eyes never left yours as she caught the meat between her teeth and ate it.
"See?" She spreads her arms, "Now will you eat?"
Without saying a word, you take your utensils and eat under her watchful eye. "A meal like this instigates negotiation." You put down your fork, "What do you want, Zakharov?"
Karina chuckles, "You're quick. I like that." 
A wry smile decorates your lips, "We don't become heads of our families' business for nothing." 
"I agree," She knots her fingers together. "Leave us," 
The gardeners and her guards obey, except Winter. Karina looks over your shoulder. You assume that's where Winter is - behind you. 
"That includes you, Winter Kim." 
You didn't look back, but you heard receding footfalls. "Now that we're alone. I need you to act civil with me." 
You cock your brow upwards, "What makes you think I'm interested in being civil with you?"
A chuckle reverberates from her chest, and her hawk-like eyes study your face before speaking: "Because your stunt in stealing my fortune and assets earned us both enemies." 
You frowned, "We earn new enemies every day, Karina. What's new about that?" A vicious smile graces her lips as if she knew a terrible secret. Your skin prickles and your gut churns uncomfortably as she drops her voice an octave lower. 
"I heard that your grandfather is withdrawing his support after I abducted you, dorogoj. And he's cutting ties with you and stole almost all of your assets-"
"That's ridiculous-"
"Oh," She scoffs, "It's true, and I have the evidence to prove it, Y/N." On cue, she takes out a ledger and opens it. "These are your grandfather's offshore accounts. See the amount? It doubled." 
"Impossible," You clench your hands into fists, "My grandfather would never-"
"But he did," She jeers and shuts the ledger close. "And now, he's leaving you with me. Truth be told he is smart for a man going senile, taking your assets assuming that I've killed you, and leaving the Han clan out in the open for everyone to target."
You scowl at her, "My men-"
"Has already defected, dorogoj." She finishes for you, "Even your consigliere and your money man - Jaehyun, was it?"
Your chest heaved as you try to calm your nerves, "Where did it all go wrong? You might ask?" She grins dubiously, "It all started when you planned that event, Y/N." Karina guffaws, "I'm appalled that your grandfather would sell you out. He must've thought that he'd lose like last time." 
She returns her focus to your shaking figure, eyes wide and lips formed to a thin line, dark and unreadable. 
"Now, don't be sad. Y/N." She cooes, "You have me."
You didn't reply, and her phone rang. The latter takes it while never taking her eyes off you. You sit there and blocked out your surroundings as you feel the heavy weight of your actions taking a toll on your focus as Karina ends the call. 
"You know," She sighs and puts her phone on top of the table. "You should count yourself lucky that I've decided to kidnap you. Your warehouses were ransacked by your old enemies-"
"Shut up," You tell her with a shaky breath, "Shut up." 
Her face shifts to a faux show of sympathy and concern. "I'm merely telling the truth, Y/N."
"What do you want from me?"
Karina plays with her steak knife. "Your cooperation." 
"And if I don't want to cooperate?"
"Oh darling," She purrs, "You are in no position to refuse - this concerns you, after all." Your tongue pokes your inner left cheek, "Give me time to-"
"No," The older woman cuts you off, "It's either you agree or rot while I clean our fifth." There's a dangerous edge to her voice. You give her a dirty look while she shoots you with a challenging glare. "So, what will it be, dorogoj?"
"Fine," You say through gritted teeth. 
Karina purrs in satisfaction. "Clever girl, you got promoted from prisoner - to my guest. You will have one of my guestrooms. The rules still apply: do anything stupid, and I will deal with you. Do you understand this, Y/N?" 
You felt like a child underneath her gaze, your eyes burned with silent wrath as you answer with a curt:
"Yes," 
"Yes - what, pretty girl?"
"Yes," You hiss, "Karina Zakharov." 
"Very good," On cue Karina's guards and Winter return to the garden. She stands up. You follow her example, unblinking as her guards seize you by the arms. You recoil at their touch as if they burned you. 
"Be gentle," She instructs them, "She is now my guest." 
They acknowledge her command with a bow before carrying on with what they are bid to do. 
"I'll cooperate," You tell her, "Under one condition, a simple condition." 
Karina clicks her tongue, "Let's hear it, then." 
"That you'll protect my mother." The latter pauses, "Very well, your mother will be under my care." She turns to look at the short-haired brunette. "Winter, escort her to her new room. The rest of you, return to your stations." 
You allow the second in command to lead you to your new room. 
Karina's manor is of neoclassical design. Neat and spacious. You follow Winter through the labyrinthine halls until she stops before an intricately carved white double door with guards standing on both sides. 
"This will be your room," She tells you blankly while one of the guards opens the door to reveal a spacious, clean room. "If you need anything, just call for the guards." 
Without saying anything, you enter the room and study your surroundings. The door closes behind you - the room contains your typical setting for a bedroom. But still, you inspect the place making sure that there are no hidden cameras. 
There was none. 
You sink into your knees and let out a shaky breath to calm your nerves. Your body feels numb and lightweight as you try to think clearly, but your mind is riddled - racing with thoughts more than your brain can take. 
And you pass out.
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For the next 72 hours, you observed the guards standing on the opposite side of your room. 
They change shifts, and the time lag is five minutes due to the long halls of Karina's manor. 
Darkness has befallen, the white halls dimmed to the color of the wall lamps, and your guards just left their posts. 
Five minutes
Your head peeked through your doors, eyeing both halls before slipping out, careful to avoid Karina's men. Your heart hammers against your ribs, and you can feel your pulse pounding against your head as you maneuver silently. 
While sneaking out, your eyes caught a huge family portrait hanging near the marble staircase. 
It's also been taken recently due to you spotting a familiar face. Karina was seated next to her older sister. The youngest Zakharov wore a black, sleeveless high-neck dress. Her hair was styled to a fishtail bun with her bangs resting on the sides of her face, while Ilina wore a black cut-out midi dress, and her hair was styled to a half ponytail.
You move your gaze to the parents you hailed them. 
Karina took her mother's features, while Ilina had their father's. But both sisters exude power and grace, a beautiful, powerful family. 
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Her voice cuts through the silence, and you swiftly turn to her with wide eyes. 
There she stood from behind. Karina Zakharov is wearing a black buttoned-down shirt, straight-cut jeans, and sandals. Her hair was let down. 
"It's a decent photo," You stiffly tell her, "No," She scoffs, "Don't I look great in that photo?"
You roll your eyes in reply while she chuckles and stands beside you. Your posture bristles and stiffens as she folds her hands behind her back. 
"It was the last photo we've taken before one of her men shot her." She tells you, "I'm sure you're relieved to hear that, am I right, dorogoj?" 
The air suddenly becomes heavy and stifling as you feel her move her line of sight toward your unwilling figure. You avert your gaze elsewhere. You don't know how to respond to that. You held your breath as you try to think of a reply but you blurt out:
"My condolences," You say to her monotonously.
She tears away her gaze from you, looks at the picture, and hums a tune that holds no consequence. "I don't need your condolences; she died a long time ago." 
Silence hangs between you before she speaks again, "And relax, Y/N." You shift your gaze to her with furrowed brows. "You're free to roam my halls so long as you stay out of our private rooms." A smirk coils on her lips, "And don't do-"
"Anything stupid," You finish for her through gritted teeth, "If that's the case, may I go to the garden?"
The older woman regards you for a moment before nodding. "I'll take you there." 
You arched a brow. Karina catches on. "As you can see, Y/N, I'm the only one present in this room - and if I call my men or Winter I'd have to waste my breath and call for them." She pauses, "I think it's perfect that I'll take you there just in case you decide to run away." Her smirk returns, "But if you did, I'll be the one to capture you - I like to give chase." 
An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, "Shut up and take me to the garden." 
She guffaws, "Follow me, dorogoj." 
What's with the Russian words? You didn't ask her and followed the raven-haired capo. "By the way," She adds, "My clothes look good on you." 
Your eyes subtly widen as you look down at your borrowed clothing. "Your clothes?!" That came out as a squeak. The older woman shoots you a wolfish grin before leading the way. 
"It's either that or you walk around my property naked, pretty girl." She teases, and you hold every fiber of your body not to hit her head. "No wonder why they felt big on me." You cringe as your footsteps echo through the dimly lit halls. It didn't take a minute for you to spot a familiar short-haired girl coming toward the two of you. 
"Winter," Karina acknowledges while the younger woman bows her head, "We received Giselle's report on the import at Port Elizabeth, New York."
Giselle? As in Uchinaga Giselle? The New York mobster?
"Very well, did you send a copy to my consigliere?"
The shorter woman nods, "Yeji has it. She's heading on her way as we speak." There's a pause. You feel out of place in their conversation and avert your gaze elsewhere. "If that's the case, then you'll entertain our guest here." You snap your head to the two. Winter pursed her lips before bowing her head, "Of course. Where shall I take her?"
"To my garden," She answers before looking at you with a small, distant smile. "Be a good girl, and don't give Winter a hard time, yeah?"
Without saying another word, Karina turns to the opposite hallway while Winter leads the way to the garden. You follow the brunette, but you look over your shoulder, your eyes locked on the disappearing figure of Karina. True to her word, Winter took you to the garden. You sigh as you revel in the cold breeze lightly nipping your skin and the ivory glow of the moon. A refreshing sight from the usual four walls of your room. 
A wry smile creeps on your lips at the realization. Despite being moved to a much more hospitable accommodation-
"A golden prison is still a prison." You tell yourself while Winter stands behind you. Her sharp gaze never leaves your figure as you bask in the beautiful glow of the moonlight. 
Meters away from the second floor of the manor, there stood Karina on her balcony with her slender, well-manicured fingers holding the stem of her wine glass. Despite Yeji discussing the keys of Giselle's report, Karina's eyes were glued to your figure, before disappearing inside her study. 
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"Y/N," Winter regards as you get out of your room. 
"What are you doing here?" You inquire the younger woman unkindly as you walk past her. The younger woman follows you, "And why are you following me around?"
"Haven't you heard?" You feel Winter's gaze move to your striding figure. "Miss Zakharov has assigned me as your guard." You stop in your tracks to look at her, "She assigned you to be my what?"
"Your guard," She tells you. 
You open your mouth but you shut it close and continue to walk. "Where are you going this time, Miss Han? To the gardens again?"
Turns out, you are being held captive in Italy. The northern Italian province of Lombardy is home to Milan and other fashion hubs.
"Where else?" You grumble, "But I'm getting tired of it. Can't a prisoner have something to entertain herself?"
Winter balks, "You're no prisoner." 
"A golden cage is still a cage, Winter." You bemused. This is the first time the short-haired brunette initiated a conversation with you. 
"Do books interest you?" You scoff at her, "What? I can't use the TV?"
"We don't have that," She tells you honestly, and you gawk at her. "What kind of founding family has all the money and resources in the world but has no TV?"
The latter coughs, "Karina is too busy with her work to watch." 
"You make it sound as though I am a lazy capo." You snark before the realization dawns on you. You're not a capo anymore. "Anyways," You quickly regain your composure, "She has a library?"
"Yes, follow me." Without waiting, she turns around, leaving you to follow her.
After minutes of wandering through the halls, she stops before two tall doors and gestures a hand. "Inside, Miss Han." 
You regard her for a moment before pushing the door open. Karina Zakharov's library is spacious and shelves rich with books. How could she possess such a magnitude of books? 
As if sensing your question, Winter speaks up: "This library was the congressman of Italy's gift for her." 
"I see," You mutter as you brush the pads of your fingers against the spines of the books. Winter watches you closely as you turn to the bookshelf and grab two books, one of Slavic folktale and the other a Russian-to-English dictionary.
Winter regards your choice of books, "I'll be outside if you need anything." 
You didn't answer and instead take a seat on the nearest couch before burying your head in between the pages, getting lost in a paradise of words to pass the time. You hear the door close. 
"You didn't eat the fruits I sent you." An amused voice cuts through the silence, forcing you to tear your eyes from the page and then look up at the owner of the voice.
Karina stood a few meters away from your seated figure with her arms crossed against her chest. Her tall figure leans against one of the bookshelves as her eyes watch you. 
Your eyes fall to a tray of cut fruits beside you. One of her men, or Winter must've placed it beside you, you just didn't notice.
"Ah," Is all you can say while the older woman chuckles and strides toward you, and gracefully picks up an apple. You watch her with intent, she holds your gaze as she takes a bite, and hunger suddenly pangs against your stomach, but your lips traverse to her lips as she licks them clean. You clear your throat softly and avert your gaze, you didn't see the smirk playing on her lips. 
"What are you doing, Zakharov?"
"Just showing you that it's not poisoned, dorogoj." 
Your face flushes at the pet name. You bared your teeth as you snap your gaze toward her. "You do realize that you've been calling me 'darling', right?"
Karina laughs, and your gut churns. "Ah, old habits." 
"You call your prisoners that?"
A teasing smile plays on her lips, and you want to smack it out of her. "No, just you." Your cheeks change to a shade of light pink, and you once again look away from the half-Russian capo. 
She moves her line of sight to your books, "I see that you've taken an interest in my language and culture. That's adorable." 
"Shut up," You snap at her, "I'm reading." 
The latter curls her lips upward, "That one's boring, dovol'no devushka." There she is again. The capo of the Zakharov family takes a book near her and approaches you and hands you the book. "Read this instead." 
You give her a sideward glance. "What I read is hardly any of your business, Zakharov." She scoffs at your snark, "Just read this, printsessa." 
"Don't you have your responsibilities to take care of?" You retort, and Karina rolls her eyes. Her Slavic tongue dominates her English accent. "I have my consigliere stepping in. I gave instructions - they will execute." She waves the book at you, "Now read." 
"Fine," You huff as put the book down and snatch the book from her hand. "What is it about, anyway?"
"Why don't you read and find out, dorogoj?"
You scowl at her before opening the first page. "And by the way," You sigh and look at the older woman. "What?"
"The Uchinagas are hosting an event." 
"Okay, and?"
"Your grandfather will be there," Your eyes sharpened as she continues, "And so will your father and older brother." 
You thread your words carefully. "And what does this have to do with me?" 
A sly smirk graces her plump lips, "This is your opportunity to get even." A pause, "You're coming with me to New York as my plus one." 
Your brow raises, "Is that your way of asking me on a date?"
The raven-haired beauty chuckles, "No, I'm not asking you, Y/N. I'm taking you." You gawk at her as she walks away. "Our flight's in three days. Prepare your valuables." You scoff. You don't have any as you scheme through the pages while Karina peers over her shoulder and exits the room. 
While browsing the pages, your eyes stumble at a sketch. It was a side view of a woman, no older than twenty-five holding a flute champagne, the dress looks familiar, as if you wore it during-
Your eyes subtly widen as you study the details of the sketch - it was you. The night before you were captured. 
"What the," You mutter as you snap your head towards the direction where Karina left with your hand gripping the sketch tightly with thoughts racing in your head, and one stands out:
Why would she sketch you?
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For the next four days, you observed Karina Zakharov - especially when she interacts with you. 
Whenever you throw a jab or a snark at her, she smirks and continues the conversation as if you didn't irritate her. It made the acids in your stomach boil. 
You tested her patience, and she merely chuckled or smirked. She'd walk beside you with a small smile creeping on her lips as if she didn't abduct you. It irked you. Because why would she have time to check on you when Winter or one of her guards can do that?
You are merely a capo left with nothing - if it was any capo, they won't even give you a second glance, but why does she-
Why would she give her time to go to you? 
Why
Why 
Why?
You have nothing to offer, you have nothing left in your name - you are her prisoner. You were just given the privilege of roaming free and reading whatever's in her library. 
What is she getting at? What was she trying to accomplish?
What does she want from you?
"Ah, and who is this fine woman you're with, Karina?" You broke from your reverie as a smooth baritone voice fills your ears. You turn to the gentleman wearing a black suit. His hair is styled to a perm. He's handsome, almond-shaped eyes, light brown-hued eyes, an upturned hose, and slightly thin lips. Classical music plays faintly in the speakers, accompanied by the clinking of champagne glasses as the underworld's elite gather to attend the Uchinagas' event - it's to celebrate a successful partnership with the Sicilians. 
"Taehyung," Karina regards the gentleman as her hands land on the small area of your back. You held a gasp. Despite the fabric acting as a barrier between your skin and her fingertips, you can feel her cold touch - and it sends shivers throughout your body. "This is my date, Y/N Han." 
"Han?" He muses as he looks at you while you regard him with a bow. "My, you're gorgeous!" You reply with a chuckle as Karina looks at you with a well-practiced smile, "Says you, Mr. Kim. You look dashing." 
The man shifts his weight to his other foot. "An interesting pair, you two. Have you come to good terms?"
Karina responds this time, "Yes, we've decided that a pointless grudge is a waste of energy and time." You cocked a brow as she continues: "So we've agreed to a truce." 
Taehyung hums, "I'll drink to that, have a nice night." 
Once he's out of earshot you turn to look at the older woman who hasn't removed her hand from your back but you chose to ignore it. 
"Was that a personal attack?" 
She snorts, "A - what?"
"Nevermind," You roll your eyes at her as you look around to spot the thieving trio that stole from you. You can feel Karina's gaze and decide to tease her: "Take a photo, it might last longer." 
She scoffs, "Why would I do that when I can draw you with perfect accuracy?"
You glance at her, face unreadable. "Yes, no doubt." 
She cocked a brow, "Oh - I don't like that tone." 
You hid a smirk and grasped her arm, "Let's divide and conquer -or you know what? Leave me to my devices. I'll hunt those three down."
"Alone?" She muses, "I doubt it." 
"You wound me, Zakharov." You mocked, "How could you doubt my skills with a knife?" Where's the lie? There's a knife strapped to your thigh - concealed by the dress Karina bought for you, and it is easily accessible via the long slit of your dress. 
Her face was unreadable, but you could see the turmoil in her eyes. It made your eye twitch with irritation. 
Don't look at me that way. I am capable just as you are. 
"Very well," She concedes, "Winter is around to help you if you can't do it." 
You scowl at her. Since when did she care? 
"Alright," You answer harshly, "Do enjoy the party." 
Without waiting for a reply, you walk away from her. 
You weave through the crowd like black smoke, your eyes sharp and senses heightened as the event continues. And just when you thought you'd never seen another familiar face, Kazuha shows up. Your eyes widen as you come face to face with the former consigliere of the Han Clan. Kazuha mirrors your shock and her hand covers her mouth. 
"Zuha?" You squeak, "Y/N," The younger woman gasps as she grasps both your arms, "How did you-" She sputters, "Oh my god, Y/N I am so sorry, enemies flanked us left and right we had to escape, I'm sorry-"
"Kazuha," You tell her gently, "I understand. You don't have to apologize." 
"But-"
"It's fine," You sternly reassured her. "You're better off alive than trying to defend what was left of our business." A bittersweet smile graces your lips, "You look gorgeous tonight. Did you get a new job as someone else's consigliere?"
"Yes," She answers shakily, "As Giselle's consigliere. How did you escape her? Karina - I mean." Before you can explain, you see Kazuha's eyes visibly sharpening, and her resplendent countenance twists to a scowl. 
"Karina," She growls as a figure approaches you from behind. Your skin tingles at the familiar touch; the older woman's hand drapes around your waist as she regards Kazuha with a polite smile. "Miss Nakamura," She greets, "A pleasure to meet you tonight." 
She eyes her hand around your waist, "I wish I could say the same, Miss Zakharov." Karina's lips curl upward as your former consigliere continues: 
"What is she doing being this close to you, Y/N?"
"Relax," Karina jeers, "She's with me as my date."
The younger woman's eyes slightly widen as she looks at you, "Is this true?"
Karina cuts you off, "Yes, it's true - even if you wring it out of Y/N, she'll agree with me." Kazuha glares at her while Karina's beautiful features twist to a challenging look while her hand pulls you closer to her. Your gut churns and goosebumps arise - her touch has you in a trance, tantalizing and blissful. 
"Easy ladies," You hissed as you quickly removed Karina's hand from your waist. She looks at you, aghast, but says nothing. "I'll explain everything if we meet again, but for now, I need to find my grandfather and his son and grandson." 
"I saw your grandfather in one of the private booths on the second floor." 
Excitement drums in your veins, and you thank the consigliere before she begrudgingly leaves you and the youngest Zakharov. You move away from Karina, eyes set on your goal now that Kazuha informed you about your grandfather's whereabouts as you make your way to the marble stairs, your hand is itching to grasp the dagger while weaving through the guests, no longer caring if your brushing or bumping past them. 
"Now," You grumble as your eyes study the closed rooms. "Where are you?"
"I don't think charging there with a dagger is intelligent, Y/N." Your face contorts to a scowl at the familiar voice. You snap your head toward her, "This does not concern you, Zakharov." You snark at her with toxicity lacing your voice. "This is between me and my grandfather. Stay out of it." Her face remains calm, and it irked you - so you turn away from her, only for Karina to seize you by the wrist and pull you towards her. Karina Zakharov's face was only inches from yours as her cold breath fanned against your dainty countenance. 
"And I'm telling you, Y/N, it's dangerous for you to go there alone." 
You bared your teeth at her, "Why do you care?"
She doesn't answer, and your patience thinned. "Let. Me. Go, Zakharov." 
The latter ignores this and tightens her grip around your wrist, keeping you in place. You curse at her and snap your head towards the private booths, one opens, revealing a familiar figure that scorned you. Your other hand twitches, you can throw the knife from here. It is thin after all. He's open, and so is your window of opportunity before he surrounds himself with potential collateral damage. 
"Karina," You warned without looking back at her, "Let me go." 
"What's the use of killing him now," The raven-haired beauty coaxes. "When you can let him live to suffer for it, Y/N?"
You grit your teeth. Those words are familiar to you. "I don't fucking care," You hissed. 
"Let me go, Karina Zakharov." You turn to her almost pleadingly, and Karina's face glows with resolve. 
"No, Y/N." She tells you, her voice a whisper. "I won't." 
And your window of opportunity closes. 
You've lost your chance, and you look at your grandfather helplessly, but it quickly dissipates as wrath seeps into your body faster than poison. And without thinking, you swiftly turn to the woman and harshly remove your wrist from her pale hand and use the side of your arm to press it against her throat, startling her, but you don't allow her to think as you quickly push her inside a vacant lounging room and shut it by swiftly pushing the older woman against the door and grab your knife, pressing it against her throat. 
Karina's eyes widen with macabre delight and doesn't make a move. Those black abysmal eyes of hers gleam with curiosity...and something else that you couldn't decipher. 
No, that isn't the reaction you want from her. She was supposed to look threatened, not curious. She is supposed to beg for you to keep the knife away from her face - to beg for her life. 
But she doesn't, and it makes your blood boil and your gut twinges uncomfortably. You ground your jaw so hard you thought your teeth would break. 
"I hate you," You spat at her while your eyes burned, "I hate you so fucking much." 
A cruel, soft smile graces her lips as she reaches out a hand and wipes-
Your tears?
You gape at her, surprised at the tender gesture as she cups your face. Her skin feels warm against your tear-stained cheek. 
"I hate you," You tell her again but this time, your voice sounds distant and meek. 
Distracted, the older woman hastily, but retains her grace as she pins you against the door and disarms the knife from your hands, and pins your wrist on both sides as she flushes her body against yours. 
You let out a shaky breath while Karina's eyes are glazed and hooded, her breath ragged as she leans her face closer to yours. Her scent invades your sense of smell, intoxicating you. She leans close to the outer shell of your right ear. Karina drops her voice an octave lower. 
"Say it to me again," Her Russian accent is hot and rough against the skin of your face. 
"What?" You breathe against her as you try to pry her hands off your wrist but to no avail. 
"That you hate me, dorogoj." Her voice hoarse, "Say it to me again, moya ljubov'."
"I hate you," You say, but the words come out like a caress. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what you feel. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you-"
And she cuts you off with a searing kiss, catching you off guard. The older woman tilts her head to deepen it, and it didn't take a while for you to respond by matching her fervor that her lipstick smudges against yours. 
She pulls away with a batted breath. Her eyes are dark and ravaging as her grip on your wrist loosens, and you shake it away from her grasp, only to grab her by the lapels of her suit and pull her for another one. She kisses you harder. 
Karina's right-hand grasps you by the back of your head while the other rests against the small area of your back, her nails dig against your skin, eliciting a gasp from you, and she uses her opportunity by slipping her tongue, swallowing you whole before pulling away. 
"I hate you," You breathe into her mouth, your thoughts are muddled by nothing but her. Her scent, her abysmal eyes, her beautiful black hair, her devastatingly gorgeous face - all of her. 
"I hate you so much that I can't think of anything else but you." 
Karina chuckles and softly pecks the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as her hands caress your body. 
"If that's the case," She rasps against your skin, and you softly gasp as she squeezes your hips. 
"Then give me one night to convince you otherwise, my love." 
Fin.
577 notes · View notes
abysseung · 1 year
Text
SOULMATE ‘❗️’ TRACKER — n. rk.
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SCAMMERS… TRACKERS NEED TO LOVE TOO BUT NEVER SCAM ABOUT SOULMATES, YOUR SOULMATE COULD BE A VICTIM
・❥・After one lesson in soulmate mythology, you couldn’t help but figure out who your soulmate is. You’ve read books and articles yet you couldn’t find the love of your life. You nearly gave up until you encountered a business called “Soulmate Tracker.” You wasted all your money on this business and to your surprise, your soulmate was the one person you never wished for.
CHECK OUT … soulmate dilemma !
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PAIRING ➸ enemy!niki x fem!reader
GENRE ➸ smau, crack, fluff, highschool au, soulmate au, enemies 2 lovers
WARNINGS ➸ profanity & scamming; each chapter has its warning
FEATURING ➸ enhypen eunchae of lesserafim liz of ive theo of p1harmony
NOTE ➸ THIS SMAU IS PURE FICTION, ALL THE IDOLS MENTIONED IN THIS DO NOT REFLECT WITH THEIR ACTUAL LIFE AND CAREER. THIS IS A NON-IDOL ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE
STATUS ➸ completed
↳ START ➸ 11/27/22
↳ END ➸ 03/02/23
AUTHORS NOTE ➸ omfg i’m finally making a fanfic for the loml. i felt like making an e2l enha smau so here i am. pls support this fic and enjoy !! (i always wanted to make an e2ls and there arent much niki e2l smaus) SONA SPEAKING !! (PLEASE READ) i changed my url but im afraid i can’t update the links bc tumblr isn’t letting me 😞 i will let u guys know that i update the links once tumblr lets me but for now please read st through the tags and hope that i’ll change the links soon :) thank you <3
TAGLIST ➸ taglist is closed thank you for the support !
☆ playlist — « unbelievable like tv ; a world of you and me »
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PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE :) SPAM REBLOGS = OK! ; SPAM LIKE = BLOCK!
PROFILES ➸ relationship status: single❗️soulmate scammers
STEP 01 — soulmate wya
STEP 02 — destiny
STEP 03 — unprofessional fr
STEP 04 — tf does that mean
STEP 05 — screaming rn
STEP 06 — biddy buddy
STEP 07 — furry allegations
STEP 08 — no social skills = no soulmate
STEP 09 — insert oh my reference
STEP 10 — not funny, did not laugh
STEP 11 — isn’t that…illegal?? 😨
STEP 12 — wanna know something cool
STEP 13 — jaw dropping rn
STEP 14 — evil laughs
STEP 15 — strings attached
STEP 16 — prayed for my downfall
STEP 17 — hands in head
STEP 18 — government name
STEP 19 — heeseung ftw
STEP 20 — soulmate tracker 2.0
STEP 21 — giggling my toes off
STEP 22 — HEESEUNG MOVE
STEP 23 — shitting my pants
STEP 24 — #firstdate #hearteyes
STEP 25 — jump if u enjoy my pain
STEP 26 — i sorry very
STEP 27 — painful to watch
STEP 28 — character development
STEP 29 — scammer x victim
LAST STEP — ummm what 🙈
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enhypen masterlist
2K notes · View notes
channoticedmeuwu · 1 year
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୧ #𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 — 𝐂. 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍
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∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° #𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 @liveleaking and @saradika for banners used
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#𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — CHOI SOOBIN × FEM!READER
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : @radiorenjun haerin n reader as kuromi enthusiasts, hyuck & soobin and their bromance + a tired ningning. honorable mentions to oc!seri & reader's mom y'all carried ‼️‼️
#𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 — social media!au, humor, fluff, hs!au, academic rivals!au, e2l!au
#𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — kys/kms jokes, swearing (duh), hospitals, mention of injuries, underage drinking (in some scenes), occasionally suggestive jokes, a lot of flirting but it's concerning pls see someone, j teens being teens
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#𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (OPEN) — @flowerjun @yeonboy @chesh1re-cat @radiorenjun @captivq @forever-in-the-sky2 @l0ve-joy @yangwaa @soobinsgirlfriend @sooooob @sunoosfavsposts @chocorenchin @kaiswifeblog @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @myknifeyourlife @banyuew @soobsfairy444 @sadsadandmad @luvsoobs @suzirumas @obeymeharemowner @vixensss @aestheticsluut @rikizm @realigot7 @cha0thicpisces @satan-223 @aloverga @alpha-mommy69 @ariannavivianna @lani-heart @koeuh @bangchansbae @aerxz @impureperhaps @jeonsfizz @anitatvd @a-l-i-y-a @igotkpoops @yenqa @sato-chan-2709 @loveliestsong
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#𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 tsk — who were you? what were you? that's all 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍 thought about when you stood next to him on the auditorium stage, smiling at the dozen school photographers and fingers holding a plaque that now belonged to both of you. How dare you; disrupt Part-Time Perfect's chance of being the one and only. How dare you; try to make your way into being the face of the school next to him, after being someone he watched from afar for years?
and how dare you look so fucking hot while doing it?
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PROFILES — THE HELLO KITTY GIRLS | SOOBIN & FRIENDS
0.0 — INTRO P.1 | INTRO P.2
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01 — NOT MY HOUSE(EEE)
02 — sobe4!
03 — jit trippin...
04 — honk shh honk shh
05 — a sight for sore eyes
06 — mentally ill club
07 — boobin
08 — pinocchio
09 — prez
10 — fetus grower
11 — sabotage !!!
12 — untouchable
13 — odi's shit
14 — honestly, valid
15 — homo
16 — um.
17 — yikes...
18 — when and where?
19 — my OUR
20 — the package
21 — she's pretty
22 — to fucking JAPAN?
23 — with YOU!?
24 — mommm
25 — trashBin
26 — dommy mommy
27 — 5 feet apart (the remake)
28 — its-a me-a, mariooo
29 — room 63
30 — notice me senpai
31 — triple dared
32 — #hyuck_deserved_better
33 — shit.
34 — in front of the chinese restaurant
35 — sandwich(ed)
36 — loverboy PT1 | PT2
37 — biology, huh?
38 — should I cry?
39 — our girl
40 — jellyfish phase
MORE TO BE ADDED
41 — crew love
BONUS — moan worthy
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823 notes · View notes
jaeminri · 1 year
Text
guardians of love
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synopsis. for the upcoming valentine's event happening in your school, you are assigned to work on a podcast to enhance the romantic mood, and keep listeners on their toes as they anticipate the weekly confessions. but valentine's is almost two months away, and there has to be something other than the weekly confession letters to entertain the students. hence, when your professor assigns one more person to the podcast as an extra helping hand to come up with ideas, you don't mind. except, the extra helping hand, is mark lee, the one man that does not believe in love.
pairing. mark lee x f!reader
genre. fluff, angst, comedy, smau, college au, podcast au, enemies to lovers, pining, opposites attract, slowburn, music major mark and journalism major reader, features other idols
warnings. profanity, alcohol, smoking, suggestive, ignore dates and timestamps
status. completed
taglist. open (send in an ask to be added!)
notes. e2l with mark?? LIVING 4 ITTTT🤘🏻🤘🏻 anyways im q excited to work on this i mean ive started with the profiles and all so that counts as something ig:)
PS. PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE! PLEASE READ THIS AND UNDERSTAND CLEARLY! (edit: it seems like some people think its ok to simply ignore this message. SPAMLIKING gets me SHADOWBANNED. PLEASE STOP DOING SO. it is getting frustrating constantly reminding people to stop doing so. i appreciate your love the smau, but please. SPAMLIKERS WILL BE BLOCKED!
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“Good morning, fellow students and professors! The weather hasn't been that great lately, hasn't it? Autumn may be pretty, but when the breeze comes, it is something that everyone doesn't really appreciate.
Next month, winter will start settling in, and all you will ever see for the consecutive months is snow and cold. Would be nice to stay in your dorms and hide under the blankets, wouldn't it? Sad, we all still have to attend lectures and teach classes. But you know, when winter starts settling in, this means it's December. And then a new year will begin in January and then comes February.
What's in February?
Our annual, Valentine's Day college festival!
When Valentine's day comes, do you all know what that means? If you haven't guessed it by now, you should listen more intently here.
That's right, Guardians of Love is making a comeback!
It starts on the very first day of winter, so mark your calendars, plug in your earphones and tune in to listen to our very own podcast, hosted by Y/L/N Y/N!
See you there!”
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PROFILES
000 | y/n's doggies , cool kids (and mark)
A WEEK BEFORE DECEMBER
001 | who doesn't know jungkook?
002 | an extra
003 | silly name
004 | loser alert
005 | jaehyun from drama?
006 | a stroll in the park (+0.3k words)
DECEMBER
007 | worst cohost ever (+0.7k words)
008 | traitor best song
009 | fiction novels and assholes (0.6k words)
010 | sucks to suck
011 | i love ass
012 | future hubby
013 | hypocrite (+0.4k words)
014 | feet pics
015 | weird but ok...
016 | a little giddy, just a little (0.5k words)
017 | stop encouraging his delulu ass
018 | y/n and mark got married ?!
JANUARY
019 | crazy in love
020 | ready for them lips (+0.6k words)
021 | bare minimum really
022 | laughs in evil
023 | thinking thinking thinking
024 | go take a thera(piss)
025 | oddballs
026 | markyn agenda
027 | safety purposes
028 | im not that mean
029 | delulu ass mf (+0.4k words)
030 | ungrateful brat
031 | redacted x4
032 | markussy
033 | who ate your peanut butter?
034 | the friend box
035 | friends friends friends
FEBRUARY
036 | bloncist
037 | eye twitch
038 | happy ever after
039 | whats after or
040 | happy valentine's day!
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© JAEMINRI, 2023
743 notes · View notes
yoongsgguktae · 1 year
Text
paddle with me 02 | jjk
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summary; jeongguk needs time to navigate his feelings. he’s strongly attracted to you—that he knows—but the torment you’ve put him through for years is hard to get over. pairing; jeongguk x reader genre; campcounselor!au | e2l | rivals | smut rating; M (18+) word count; 13.7k+ warnings; mentions of alcohol, cussing, outdoor intercourse, unprotected sex, oral sex betas;  thank you thank you to @breadoffoxy​​ and a friend of mine for reading through my first and second drafts. and thank you to @cutechim​ and @hobeemin​ for reading my outline so so long ago! i cherish you all 💜 a/n;  IT’S BEEN 2 WHOLE YEARS, but it is finally here. Thank you for being patient with me, and thank you in advance for reading. I would recommend reading part 1 of paddle with me as a refresher since it’s been so long lmao.
PART ONE MASTERLIST READ ON AO3
Jeongguk scarcely notices the images on the canvas, everything is a blur, and the movie is reduced to a low hum in the background. His sights are trained on the poorly hung piece of fabric, but he is too distracted to focus on the scenes unfolding before him. The large linen sheet he is blankly staring at sags against the exterior of the dining hall. Its corners are loose, causing wrinkles to litter the images that dance across its surface, but no one seems to care enough as the camp counselors are all entranced by the movie before them. 
They are seated outside watching a film under the clear night sky, another team bonding activity Namjoon likes so much. Yoongi had set up a projector and a surround sound system he brought from home while Hoseok and Jin hung the makeshift screen earlier that evening. The celebratory movie night is well underway with popcorn, alcoholic drinks, and small bursts of laughter. 
Jeongguk shifts in his seat, and the bean bag slumps with his change in weight as he moves. He has been harboring a growing boner that has become increasingly uncomfortable under the constraints of his pants. His hand unconsciously passes over his bulge as his imagination runs wild with thoughts of your legs around his waist. He is captivated by the memory of your flowy skirt riding up your thighs as you moved in front of him all day while running the seminars since morning.
He barely focused on the standard discussions about staff policies, camp schedules, and safety protocols. For one, he has attended them for the past few years, and Namjoon insists everyone must attend every year regardless, but he was also aggravated once he learned that you were leading the seminars, the ones he used to do. 
He remembered his lips lifted in displeasure as he lowered his gaze to the ground when you stood up to lead the discussions. Jeongguk was close to taking off to get some air, yet after catching your remorseful gaze a few times during your presentation, he realized you were not the problem—it was him. You had apologized, and there was no reason for him to be upset with you when it was not your fault anyway. You were asked to run them this year.
Jeongguk broke from his irritated stupor when you stopped mid-sentence during the discussion to bend forward and pick up your dropped pen. His eyes immediately traveled down your shirt, staring at the exposed tops of your breasts and sucking in his bottom lip as you stood straight. His tiny bit of annoyance faded as quickly as his dick started to harden. His attention had strayed entirely from the seminar discussions before him to lusting for you again.
The movie continues to play on the improvised screen before him, yet Jeongguk is far away. He is lost in his memory of you from earlier today, one that is about you in that skirt you have been wearing. His mouth hangs open, his jaw slack, and his palm unknowingly caresses his erection while zoned out. 
Jeongguk comes to, mouth closing shut as he gulps. He adjusts his posture, sitting up a bit straighter while turning his gaze to the right, towards where you are sitting, with a large blanket across your legs. His eyes move up your figure to see the faint outline of a bruised mark on your neck. One edge of his lips turn up as his gaze sets heavy on the hickey, memories of him giving it to you. The sight alone gets him excited.
You are momentarily distracted from the film when you see movement in your periphery. The slight shift catches your attention since everyone has remained motionless, entranced with the film. You do not have to think twice, already knowing who it is. Feeling a set of eyes boring into the side of your face, almost palpable with how unrelenting his stare is. 
Eyes never stray from the screen; you focus on the action in front of you. Your attempt to ignore him succeeds when you sense him shift his gaze back to the film. A brief moment of relief washes over you before you suddenly feel it again.
Is there something on your face? Why is he staring so hard? This time you cannot hold back your curiosity. You peer over at him in confusion, meeting his eager gaze immediately. 
He raises his eyebrows, lips parting to swipe his tongue across them sensually. Your gaze slips downward to catch the slow movement, feeling a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. You feel weak at that small gesture, your body fully aware of his intentions. Your eyes close momentarily to regroup your senses before you level your gaze back with his. Eyebrows knitted, you mouth a ‘what’.
His smirk grows, the mischievous glint in his eyes more apparent. Jeongguk motions his head with a short nod  and his eyes move in the direction of the small shed behind the group. A shed that lays untouched for most of the season until the grass needs to be mowed or when tools are sought out. It sits concealed by some overgrown bushes across the lawn, out of the way, and tucked in the corner of the main campground. A place very few people venture off to.
Your eyes widen when Jeongguk shifts in his seat, doing his best to rise without a sound. The bean bag slides underneath him, and he stands with caution. Not a single person becomes aware of his movements. You two are the only ones playing this dangerous game. 
He starts to make his way toward the shed, giving you a sultry wink as he walks past you. Your face flushes once again. He wants you to join him. 
Your eyes dart forward to the back of the heads of those in front of you, all too immersed in the film to notice Jeongguk leaving. A slight hint of panic rises in your stomach. You are afraid someone will discover him sneaking off, that he will be caught in the act.
After a few moments, with no one noticing his departure, you slowly get up from your cushioned lawn chair. You do not know where the confidence boost came from, but you have already committed to following Jeongguk’s example. The light blanket in your lap is abandoned onto your seat before you approach his direction with soft footsteps, proceeding to walk across the open field.
A fallen branch snaps under the weight of your foot, halting your movement as you let out a curse under your breath. The untimely coincidence occurred when the movie went silent; such terrible timing on your part. Increased awareness of your surroundings has you still, unmoving, and even holding your breath in case anyone hears. Once the movie volume picks up again, you turn around slowly with your feet planted on the ground expecting to see someone looking your way. All eyes are still on the screen during one of the intense scenes of the movie. You release a small breath and quietly rush towards the shed, not wanting to chance getting caught.
Your shadow bounces off the side of the shed. The movie illuminates a frantic and hurried outline of your movements as you swiftly head toward it. You turn the corner of the structure and make your way to the entrance. The rough texture of the rusty old door handle is hard against your palm. You pull it open while praying the hinges do not creak. With one step inside, your tongue can taste the dust in the air. It is dark and musty, clearly untouched for some time. Your vision starts to adjust to the darkness of the space.
You turn back to face the door, pulling it shut towards you. The hardware latches with a click just as an arm wraps around your front. A small yelp escapes you in shock when a hand snakes under your shirt while the other slams against the door right past your head. “You know, makeup doesn’t do much to cover that hickey of yours.” The words are close to your ears, almost like a shared whisper between two lovers, but the press of his body is aggressive.
Jeongguk has you cornered, his chest pressing his full weight on your back while he pins you against the door. His thumb starts drawing circles on your skin, sending chills up your body, his fingers slightly cold to the touch. In contrast, his warm breath crawls against your collarbone while he noses up your neck.
You lick your own lips, reminiscing how you received it in the first place. “It’s been four days and this thing hasn’t gone away.” The feel of his smile is warm as he drags his mouth over your skin. You continue, “It doesn’t help that you keep attacking the same spot either.” The hot breath of his chuckle makes you flush in excitement. It is almost like a threat, like he wants nothing more than to put you through this agony. He is having fun with this torture he is inflicting on you.
With one hand still roaming your stomach, he brings his other to his lips. His tongue spreads his saliva across his finger as he licks his thumb. Grabbing your nape with care, Jeongguk starts to rub the black and blue area you poorly tried to hide with concealer. This process is repeated before he brings you flush against his front and his mouth connects with the sensitive area once again. 
A wince of pain pushes past your lips; he is relentless with his sucking. “I quite like it on you. It looks good,” he states before returning to the same spot after you crane your neck to give him more access, your body inevitably responding to his touch.
The attention to your neck has you light-headed, vision blurry as your eyes flutter shut, and the sensation runs down your body. Your head—clear of any and all thoughts—is full of just him and the feeling of his weight against you. His movements feel urgent and brazen, as if he is trying to prove a point.
Then the faint memory of this morning gnaws at your subconscious momentarily. You had glanced his way the moment you stood up. His jaw was sealed tight, probably from gritting his teeth, and he had cut his gaze from you the moment you locked eyes.
“You know it wasn’t my idea to present at the seminars this morning,” you whisper, “I should have made Namjoon give you the role of presenter since I know you’ve always done them.”
His palms graze along your body, slipping under your skirt, and Jeongguk hears your breath hitch as he reaches the curve of your ass. He gives it a squeeze, a warning to stop talking about it. His lips stop trailing down your neck, “It’s fine.” He focuses on your bare shoulder, lips grazing your tender skin. 
“I could tell you were upset.”
Jeongguk huffs and his hold on you tightens, “I was not.” 
He does not want to concede to your ridiculous accusations. 
“Yes, you were,” you insist. 
You push back against his body, and the attempt to get him to loosen his hold on you is futile. He effortlessly has the advantage with his large stature. Then again, the moment he feels your ass graze the bulge he has been carrying, he involuntarily relaxes his hold, letting out a hiss at the contact. Fuck, it is the simple things that set him off with you. 
Jeongguk’s large hands spin you around, and your back connects with the door. His head lowers to your height, eyes boring into your gaze, and you cannot help but hold your breath. 
“I said it’s fine. Drop it,” he spits through his teeth.
His hot breath fans across your face, and you can feel the annoyance radiating off his body in waves. He is being stubborn again, bottling up the emotions that hinder him from being honest with you. You roll your eyes with a heavy sigh. “You know, you should stop being so uptight and just accept my apology. I’m trying to say sorry.”
“Uptight?” His deep chuckle has the hairs on your arms stand on end. He rakes one hand through his hair and looks away momentarily. The sharp angle of his jaw is more pronounced while he clenches his jaw. 
You yelp as Jeongguk suddenly tugs you off the door by your hips, whirling you around to shove you against the adjacent wall. One hand comes up to grab the back of your neck, forcibly angling your head to meet his eyes. “I said to drop it because I don’t care.”
You observe him while he holds you in place. His breathing has gotten more ragged, and you know you are the cause of it because of your persisting attitude. You have always been good at pushing him till he breaks, and you are not stopping now. “You are a terrible liar,” you whisper.
His eyes close shut, lashes fanning his cheeks, and he exhales through his nose. “I swear to God,” he pierces you with a maddening glare, only getting closer. He continues with his lips right above yours, “open your mouth again and I’ll walk out of here. Boner and all.”
The man is trying to have his way with you, and all you are doing is babbling. You need him just as much as he needs you right now, and there is no way you are leaving here without having him first. 
Your hands grapple with the front of his shirt and wrench him forward. His lips meet yours instantly, mouths slotting over one another’s in a fervent kiss. The grip along your nape loosens as he winds his digits in your hair, and the stroke of fingertips along your scalp has you sighing into his mouth.
Jeongguk nuzzles his knee between your legs, his thigh coming to sit in the middle of yours, and caresses your clothed cunt as he thrusts it against you. Your needy moan compels him to press even harder, urging more strained pants to fill the tiny expanse of the shed while your tongues continue to entangle.
The cramped space is layered with dust and old grass clippings; it was the closest yet furthest spot to sneak away to without being noticed. There are better places to hook up, but it beats the abandoned outhouse from yesterday. He was desperate to get you away when he laid eyes on your form this morning; the skirt you have on fits your curves just right. He could not wait until the movie ended to have you since he has been restless since the seminars hours ago. The shed will have to work for now.
You let out a shaky breath at the graze of his hand creeping underneath your skirt again. The tips of his fingers skim up your thighs, briefly brushing over your pussy, making you whine until he meets the top band of your underwear. His fingers slip past the material and tug it without effort, dropping it down your legs. Your underwear falls around your ankles, lying discarded on the ground as you step out of them.
He captures your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a final bite before he breaks the kiss. Your skin feels hot to the touch as he sets his forehead upon your bare shoulder, taking a moment to get air back into his lungs. 
With your underwear gone, his focus is back on your cunt. Two fingers dip inside, and he proceeds to coat them with your cream with shallow thrusts before he takes them out to glide them along your folds. “I love the feel of your slick cunt,” he murmurs against your shoulder. Jeongguk parts your lower lips, his middle finger slipping back and forth on your folds, reaching your clit and giving it the most attention.
Your choked hum exhales close to his ear. One arm embraces his neck, and the other holds onto his bicep for support. His smirk grows wide as he feels your body slumping back against the wall, your legs growing weak at the slightest touch on your feverish cunt. He loves to see you fall apart on his fingers. 
The heavy pants escalate the moment he dives into your warm center again. One, two, then three fingers pulsate against your wall. He thrusts and curls them at a leisurely pace while your breath hitches. In response, you claw his back, and he can feel your nails digging and dragging across the heat of his skin. Your markings are proof of the pleasure he gives you; he wears them like a badge of honor.
Jeongguk raises his head from your shoulder after placing one more kiss on your collarbone. He slips his fingers out, bringing them up to his lips. Your eyes flutter open when he opens his mouth to receive your taste. Lips sealing around his fingers, he sucks them clean while never looking away. 
“So sweet,” he moans around his fingers. He will never stop craving your taste. “Here,” he says, moving to invade your cunt once more, “have a taste.” He plunges back into your warmth, thrusting a few more times before pulling them out.
The tips of his coated fingers lay waiting against your bottom lip. Your mouth opens instinctively to receive them, and Jeongguk’s cock jumps at your willingness to obey his command. He presses down on your tongue, and with lust-filled eyes, he watches you suck yourself off his fingers.
“You love the taste of your own pussy, isn’t that right?” he asks while thrusting in and out of your warm mouth.
You groan in response, eyes closing shut as you slightly gag around his fingers from the force of his thrust. Another jolt runs down his pulsating cock from watching you drool. Seeing the saliva run down your chin gets him hot and needy.
In one swift movement, he pulls away and kneels before you. His knees meet the dusty floor while his hands run down your body and to your thighs. He hikes one leg over his shoulder, letting the balm of your foot rest against the delve of his back as he spreads you in front of him. With a broad hand pushing your hip back against the wall, you steadily balance on one leg underneath his aiding grip.
Jeongguk presses his eager nose against your clit, giving it a small flick with a shake of his head. “You smell,” he inhales your scent with an obscene sound, “fucking amazing.” 
A small whimper drips from your lips at the slightest touch. You grasp at the window frame, grip tight to balance yourself while your other hand weaves into his hair to coax him closer. His mouth moves over the expanse of your pussy. Tongue out and flat against your folds, moving slowly up down but never quite reaching your clit on the up stroke. The heat of his breath feels incredible on your skin, and you shudder when he nips your clit with his teeth.
The surprise yelp you release is cut short when his mouth encloses around it suddenly. The cruel way he sucks at the engorged bud places you in a euphoric state. It is impressive how he has learned to listen to your body, knowing all the ways you like to be handled only after a few times being together.
Your grip struggles to keep you steady as your nails scrape against the window sill, leaving marks along the old, weathered wood of the rarely-used tool shed. The wall against your back is stiff and uncomfortable as you slide down the rough surface, no longer able to hold up your weight due to the overwhelming pleasure Jeongguk’s mouth gives you.
“Oh fuck,” you let out.
The buckle in your knee intensifies as you feel the building pressure between your thighs. Even with his aid, standing is becoming too burdensome, and your legs tremble. 
Jeongguk takes hold of your weakening leg, tossing it over his shoulder. With his large hands, he grabs both of your plump ass cheeks, hauling you up while he continues to devour your cunt sloppily. You yelp in shock at the sudden change in position. The majority of your weight is held up by his shoulders as your back pushes harder, digging deeper against the splintered wall.
You reach out to the nearby shelf crowded with rusted hand tools while your other continues to grasp the strands of his long dark hair. Your arduous attempt to keep steady is all for naught as his tongue persists. The sounds of his feast echo off the walls of the small shed, and you cannot help but gaze at the sight of him while he consumes your clit. 
The small amount of moonlight that shines through the dusty window illuminates his glistening face. His lips, swollen with the labored effort, makes him appear divine between your legs.
Your head knocks back against the wall as your eyes flutter close in ecstasy. The volume of your moans increases with each suction of his hot mouth. Your hips start to move on their own accord, following his rhythm, and you tighten your grasp while you ride on his tongue.
The whines emitting from between your lips halt when Jeongguk abandons his endeavor. His head raises, and his eyes lift to your now open and questioning ones. “You need to be quiet,” he says.
“It’s not like they can hear me,” it takes everything in you not to call him out on his trepidation. For someone who thrives in taking risks—someone who fucked you in the outdoor showers just a few days ago—why is he acting cowardly? The faint noise of the surround sound system blaring the forgotten movie can be heard in the shed. He is being dramatic.
His hand runs up your leg and between your thighs, fingers reaching for your pussy. “Don’t talk back to me when I’m the one on my fucking knees for you,” his stern tone sends a shiver through you while he inserts a finger slowly inside. 
You clamp your mouth shut the moment his thumb begins to draw circles on your clit, and you let yourself succumb to the pleasure once again. “Sorry,” you meekly respond before taking a deep breath through your nose. As you settle into his touch, the subtle smell of cut grass grounds you momentarily.
What started as a slow caress picks up pace, and Jeongguk eagerly inserts a second digit. His two middle fingers slip between your folds, his palm facing downward. The pressure of his curled fingers is unfamiliar in the position, yet the sensation has you reeling in a blissful state. Your lips part slightly, and your breath quickens.
All concentration on keeping quiet is gone when your clit is engulfed by the warmth of his mouth again. Caution is thrown out the window as he keeps up a maddening pace with his thrusts, sending you ever so close to the edge. His other hand clamps around the back of your thigh to keep you open. 
With your chest heaving deeply, your body begins to unravel, every nerve erupting at once. Your orgasm overtakes you and you cum against his mouth. 
Jeongguk moves his lips softly around the clit, to the labia, and around the seeping hole of your pussy. He is gentle with his licks and does his best to clean you up. He sets one leg down, then the other, and watches you slump back against the wall as he gives you time to regroup after the intense orgasm.
“You good?” he asks, rising from his kneeling position.
“Mmhmm, very good,” you sigh.
His bulge is more apparent now that he is standing. He attempts to adjust his hard-on before leaving the shed. Jeongguk steps back and reaches into his pants to fix his boxers.
Your hand reaches out to grab his wrist. “Can I?” you ask.
He stops short at his attempt. Pleasing you and watching you unfold because of him gets him off every time. He did not have any expectations from you, but even he needs his release after something as explosive as what he just witnessed. 
“Yes, please,” he says.
He allows you to pull at the strings of his sweatpants, hurriedly untying them. Your fingers slip inside the waistband, circling around his waist to pull them down to rest at his thighs. You start to descend, dropping your knees to the ground before him; however, he grabs you by the elbow to coax you back up.
You glimpse up at him with eyebrows furrowed, mouth slightly open to question him, but he seizes your thighs and lifts you off the floor. Your breath catches in your throat while your arms wrap around his neck at the sudden change in position, and he feels your nails scrape against the skin of his back. 
Your nails only deepen as he abruptly spears you with his cock. Your wet center readily takes him in without a struggle.
Both of you grunt in unison when your back hits the wall again. Legs wrapped around his waist, his arms holding you up by your thighs, he rams inside you. The swell of your breasts peeks out from the confines of your shirt, bouncing with every thrust of his hips.
Jeongguk tugs down at the low neck of your shirt, releasing them for his viewing pleasure. With your shirt under your breasts, they are lifted and spewed out. With eyes trained on your bust, the bounce of your supple tits fuels his thrusts. 
The shed begins to creak as the force of his hips rocks you. Pulling you off the wall, your hands quickly grab ahold of his shoulder. He turns on his heels, trying his best to concentrate on holding you upright on his cock without slipping out of you. His feet swiftly kick away a hammer lying on the ground while trying to maintain balance as he holds you in mid-air.
“Hold the shelf behind you.”
You loosen your grip around his neck, arms blindly searching for the shelf. Once you grab hold, Jeongguk impales you deeper with no plans of slowing down. The sound of skin slapping and your collective grunts powers his search for release.
Your tits bounce with each forceful thrust. You look mesmerizing with your messy hair, mouth slightly hanging open, and eyes brimming with tears. His hips stutter at the sight of you coming undone on his cock.
“Look at me,” he says. With eyes hooded over, you meet his. “Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours,” you whisper in response.
"Say it louder," he demands.
"Yours!" you shout.
“Fuck,” Jeongguk grunts. His hold tenses around your thighs. “You look stunning… fucked out on my cock like this… absolutely beautiful,” he grunts between every jerk of his hip. He sputters through his own release, warming your center, filling you with everything he had.
He rides out his high with shallow thrusts of his cock, slowly descending from the pleasure. But even so, with his mind clouded with bliss, Jeongguk’s thoughts cannot help but stray to the nonverbal agreement you struck days before.
Jeongguk finds himself seated in front of the sweltering bonfire again. It had been several hours since the group returned from the canoe trip and gathered for another round of drinks like the night before. Everyone is a bit tipsy, a few drinks in, and the chatter has increased while the night sky has grown darker. It is only the second day, but it has become the usual nightly routine while campers have yet to arrive.
A freshly opened can in his grasp while he recalls earlier events from the day. It is his third one of the night, and the light buzz in his head tells him he still has a ways to go until he is drunk. The goal is to forget what happened today at the river, at least for tonight—to drown his feelings.
He had witnessed you turn and walk to your bunk while he was trying to get Hoseok off his case. He did not hear from you again until dinner later that night. You sat at the opposite end of the long dining table with wet hair and an oversized shirt, freshly out of the shower. You were ignoring him, keeping your distance, and going out of your way to avoid him. You must have been hiding until dinner was ready because he did not see you for hours.
You were obviously upset at his refusal to talk after returning to camp, but it was not so much a rejection as it was a knee-jerk response to your sudden question. Can you blame him? The hesitancy to trust you comes naturally to him after all you have done. Jeongguk has spent the past few years loathing you. How was he expected to throw away the emotional wound you have left on him all this time over a single hook-up? 
Despite that, the somber expression that painted your features hit him like a ton of bricks, sincerity in your eyes that he had never seen before. But he was still struggling to come to terms with genuinely forgiving you. Yes, he told you back at the river that he forgave you, but the white lie slipped past his lips too quickly. Jeongguk was not entirely convinced that you were remorseful of your past actions—not yet.
He breaks from his thoughts at the sound of your laugh. 
You are sitting across from him again, with Jimin’s arm across your shoulders this time. The rise in body temperature has nothing to do with the fire in front of him but everything to do with how you are snug against his frame. Jeongguk’s posture becomes rigid at how you two are so casual in front of the entire group.
The pair are laughing along with Jin’s retelling of an interaction with a camper’s parents last year. “She saved my ass! That mom was going to wring my neck because I let her son jump off the high dive,” he explains as another round of laughs erupts from the trio. 
Jeongguk stretches the knot in his neck, irritated. He has been ignored all night, yet you easily socialize with everyone around him while continuing to act like he does not exist. One would think he would be used to it after all this time, that he would prefer it this way, but something has changed for him. It stings.
“She should honestly be the one to handle parent complaints. They all love her,” he continues to say about you. 
He would usually be irked with Jin’s praise, but that is not the issue tonight. He observes how you lean closer into Jimin's body as you laugh, your hand slaps his thigh, and Jeongguk catches your gaze mid-chuckle. You waver, sitting motionless like you were caught in the act. He scoffs to himself before raising the forgotten can to his lips, the beer still cold on his tongue. What is going on with him?
The way he downs his beer has the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. Suddenly Jimin’s arm around you feels heavy as Jeongguk holds your gaze over the rim of the can. He lowers it down in his lap again, using the back of his hand to wipe across his wet lips.
His clenched jaw is evidence of the anger you gather is raging within him. This is the moment he would typically stand to leave, to escape. You are waiting for him to get up and storm off, but he stays unmoving, his attention not straying away from you in the least. Your face flushes with warmth, and you avert your attention down to the can in your own hand, flicking the tab to keep yourself busy, focusing on the sound it makes as you drown out the people around you. The sound of their voices becomes muffled in the background.
You used to gush under all the praise, soak it in and flaunt it outwardly on purpose in front of Jeongguk. But things are different now. You no longer want to be in the spotlight after learning how much he despises you because of it. The desire to mock him ceased to exist the moment he carried you into the water after the most mind-blowing sex you have ever experienced. 
The way he gently cleaned you, took care of the aftermath of your escapade, had your stomach churn with desire. A desire to be wanted by him beyond a physical way. His act of tenderness made you believe he wanted that too.
But you were left a fool. His rejection hit you hard, a big slap to the face you were not expecting, and took you by surprise. You were, and still are, confused at how Jeongguk has shown interest in you but then seemingly wrote you off when you arrived back at camp. As if it meant nothing. 
It is embarrassing to think you gave yourself entirely to a man who expressed no interest in you as soon as reality hit him. You have concluded that he made a mistake, that he probably regrets everything because it seemed like he wanted nothing to do with you afterwards. It is humiliating how you thought he may have wanted more when his actions say otherwise. 
Avoiding him since you got back has been your only escape from heartache. You cannot bear the thought of another rejection. The time between now and when you arrived from the canoe trip was spent hiding in your bunk, but then something shifted in you when you laid eyes on him during dinner. As you locked eyes with him, you became angry and irritated. How dare he use you like that and act as if nothing happened. 
You sit here now in front of the fire, him just on the other side, and you want to scream and tell him off.
The group around you start to rise out of their seats, pushing you to take a deep breath to settle the rising anger. You did not notice how long you were stuck in your head and how much time had passed. People were yawning and collecting their empty cans; it was late. 
“I’ll grab some water to put out the fire,” you say out loud while the others start to head to their bunks. Grabbing the water jug from behind your seat, you walk to the lake's edge. You squat, setting the jug in the still and cold water. The sound of frogs in the distance keeps you company as the liquid spills into the container. The water fills to the brim, so you tip the jug to dump some back into the lake. The sound of footsteps behind you is masked by the sound of the water dribbling into the body of water before you.
You stand startled as you feel a presence behind you, heart hammering in your chest and turn only to find Jeongguk stalking towards you with long strides. Glancing past his shoulder, you realize everyone has left, and it is just you and him. Well shit, there goes avoiding him. 
His hands reach out, fingers brushing your grip around the handle. “Give it to me. I’ll put the fire out.”
“No. I can do it myself,” you spit, shaking your head and huffing from the exertion. The jug full of lake water takes a lot of effort to carry, the weight of it heavy under your drunken grasp. You swing it into your other hand, switching arms due to the burden. He reaches for it another time. “No, I got it.” You step to the side and continue walking toward the bonfire.
Jeongguk sighs and spins to your retreating figure. Needless to say, you are struggling with the heavy load, but you are being stubborn about it. He takes steps to reach you and extends his hand again. “Just give it to me,” he says as he grabs your hand. The jug slips from your hold as you yank it away from his reach the moment his skin touches yours. It meets the ground with a hard thud, the water pouring out of the container and into the soil.
He meets your irritated scowl. “Can you fuck off?” you bite in his direction. Your shoulders stay tense as you grab hold of the jug again, heading back towards the lake to refill it on his account. Jeongguk rolls his eyes and kicks at the sand beneath his feet. None of this would have happened if you could stop being so stubborn. He was merely trying to help.
He hangs his head while you walk past him, taking a deep breath before turning in your direction to catch up with you. With his hands in his pockets, he strolls by your side as you return to the fire again. “Why are you being like this?” he questions. 
You scoff in return, your steps not faltering in the least as you continue to walk with him beside you. “Why am I being like this?” You return his question with one laced with sarcasm, and he has to hold himself from rolling his eyes again, a quick-witted response on the tip of his tongue before you continue. “Honestly, I’m a little upset that you completely blew me off earlier.” You move the jug to the other hand.
He glances at your side profile, baffled by your accusation as if he did not hear you correctly the first time. “Blow you off?” he stammers. His hands come out of his pockets, raised in the air. “How could you expect me to have an answer so quickly after what happened?” 
You two reach the bonfire, the flames' gleaming light across your skin as he meets your glare. “I need time to sort it out in my head first. I don’t know what else you want me to say,” he reasons. He has never felt so conflicted before, and now you think he hates you.
“Well, I don’t know. You responded pretty quickly to my kiss and fucked me without any hesitation.” His face reddens at the statement, involuntary jerking in response to your words. “Didn’t think it would be hard to get an answer from you,” you continue.
Before Jeongguk can respond, he follows the rise of your arm as you lift the container above the flames, tipping it over and allowing all the water to spill over the raging fire. The sizzle of the wood increases as the fire goes out before only minor strains of the dying fire are heard. A cloud of smoke surrounds you two briefly, but your eyes never drift from his.
“You and I both know that wasn’t planned,” he says, looking away while the smoke settles. He clears his throat, aware that you continue shooting daggers in his direction. “We were both caught up in the moment.”
The container falls from your grip, the loud impact startling Jeongguk and making him face you again. You stand straight with clenched fists and ask, “So you’re saying you made a mistake and weren’t thinking straight?” 
His eyes go wide momentarily. “No. That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Shit. “I’m saying that I need time to sort out my conflicting feelings.” He winces immediately as the words come out of his mouth. Your eyebrows pinch together and the corner of your lips turn down, the pain across your face evident. 
Before he can apologize for his poor choice of words, you cut in. “Conflicting?” you look off to the side, hands coming up to fold in front of your chest. “Whatever. Go ahead and take your time to figure out your conflicting feelings. Then get back to me.” Refusing to hear yet another excuse from him, you sidestep him again and make your way to your cabin, accidentally kicking the empty jug in the process. 
His choice of words hurt you, and he should not have said it that way. It made it seem like he was not interested in you, but you were making assumptions about him that were incorrect and unfair. Jeongguk steps around the container, nearly tripping over it as he follows behind you again in a rush. “Are you really going to act like a child until then?” 
You turn your body to face him, your feet continuing to move backward in the direction of your bunk. “You know what, Jeongguk,” with your hands raised, “yes, I will. I will act like a child until you figure your shit out.” You spin on your heels and climb the porch of the cabin.
He scurries to catch up, taking the steps two at a time. His hand grasps your arm before you can open the cabin screen door, tugging you softly and turning you around. “What do you want from me?” he huffs, hand running through his hair roughly. Despite his curt tone, his eyes are soft, and the wrinkles around his brows pull together in worry.
“I would like for you to be honest with me, Jeongguk. Your actions tell me one thing, but you verbalize something else entirely.” You can hear the way your voice sounds defeated as you utter what has been bothering you since the canoe trip earlier that day. You have to force yourself not to pout, to put on a false bravado while maintaining eye contact with him.
He looks away, face taut and lips tight before replying, “Our relationship isn’t really conventional, is it? We’re not exactly friends. We’re the opposite, honestly.”
Another stab to the heart. Does this boy not know how deep his words cut you? “Then why did you kiss me back there if you hate me so much?” you sneer, the quiver in your voice apparent, unable to hold it in this time. You curse yourself for showing weakness, briefly shaking your head while gazing down at your feet. Damn him and your inability to keep your emotions in check. 
“I’m attracted to you, ok?” He almost yells, his voice intensifying as the confession stumbles from his lips. The air hangs heavy around you two, and you witness him tugging at his brown locks in frustration. He breathes, lowering his voice to continue, “But I don't know how I feel beyond that. I'm still trying to figure out my emotions. It’s not every day that I have sex with someone just for the fun of it. I’m not that type of guy,” he explains.
“You're attracted to me?” you whisper. Your fingers reach for the edge of your shirt, grip tight around the fabric. You must have heard him wrong, tricked by an over-active, sleep-deprived, and twisted imagination. You should feel elated to hear such words from him, but it simply makes your stomach sink. 
He furrows his brows. “Well yeah. I thought that much was obvious.”
For a fleeting moment, the panic you have been feeling returns to your chest, and you feel utterly bare, as if he could see right through your facade and that he would call you out on it. You scoff, “Yea, because you saw me naked. Why else would you be attracted to someone like me?”
The memory of your previous relationship comes forth, an ex-boyfriend who made you feel worthless and insecure. But before you can fall back into that dark place you fought hard to escape, Jeongguk steps closer, pulling your attention back to the present. 
Your back meets the cabin door as you retreat from his approach. “Can you stop playing stupid?” he spews with hot cheeks and nose flaring. His blood is boiling at your foolish response.
He observes how you look down at your feet, struggling to maintain eye contact with him after what you said. Your vulnerability is strange to witness. In his eyes, you are the most fearless and assertive woman he knows, but to have you standing silent in front of him while making self-deprecating comments in jest has him stunned. This is not like you.
He can see it now, see the hurt he has caused you over how he handled what happened earlier that day. He brushed you off too quickly, and now you have conjured all these negative narratives about his behavior. Since you walked away after returning to camp, you have had the entire night to create this false sense of insecurity for which he is responsible.
He did this to you. He pushed you away.
Jeongguk spans the distance, reaching for your face. One palm cradles your cheek while the other grasps your nape, fingers gently threading through your hair. He angles your head to meet his gaze. His heart pumps erratically in his chest while you grab onto him. Your soft fingers curl around his wrist, and you lean into his touch. “Please. Please don’t talk about yourself like that.” His voice is soft in contrast to moments ago. The need to comfort you, to erase the doubt that runs across your features, is the strongest emotion he has felt towards you yet. This frightens him.
The warmth of his mouth finds yours without warning, making you gasp in surprise. Jeongguk’s hold of your face slides down to your hip, pulling you tight against him as you kiss him back with eyes fluttering shut. Since the canoe incident, he has yearned to taste you, a secret he would never admit to you—a secret he has not even admitted to himself until this very second.
Your desire does not go unnoticed by him as your hands reach for his shoulder to bring him closer, urging your body against his and erasing all distance. Your body's heat feels so blissful that his fingers curl deeper into your skin, making you moan against his mouth. That sound, your sweet and breathy moan, goes straight to his dick. He has never felt so hungry for someone the way he is infatuated with you.
He moves to explore deeper into your mouth, tongue darting out to flirt with yours while he presses you further into the door, his hard cock pressing into your body as he leans into you. Your hand wanders into his long hair as you respond desperately to his kiss with a whine, tugging softly. He deeply groans in approval at every swipe of your tongue on his. 
He draws your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling away and meeting your forehead with his, stepping back to give you room. Both of your breaths are haggard, chests rising erratically as you two try to regain air in your lungs. Jeongguk opens his eyes to see yours slowly flutter open, lust swimming in the depths of your gaze.
The certainty that you want him just as bad is evident in the way a mix of sighs and whimpers involuntarily spill from your lips when Jeongguk moves to kiss the expanse of your neck, and you arch your head to expose more of your neck to him. His lips trail down to your collarbone to leave wet, open-mouth kisses. “Can I have you again?” he whispers into your skin as he continues to run his lips along your shoulder. 
Your hands meet his firm chest, compelling him to step back. A sudden moment of panic washes through him as you push him away. Did he read your signals wrong? But you stun him when your hand grasps the front of his shirt and opens the cabin door behind you. Your pull on him almost knocks him off his feet before he finally follows your steps inside your private bunk.
You cannot help but feel your stomach drop while you fixate on how he hastily pulls his sweatpants over his hips. His large hand moves to tie them in place after laying around his ankles during your hook-up in the shed. 
Hook-up. 
You must remind yourself that this is all this is—this exchange of your bodies and pleasure is not laced with any emotions. At least, that is what you have to keep telling yourself. After another round of sex following the confrontation a few nights ago, you two have been discreetly meeting for sex almost daily. It was not an arrangement per se. It just happened. Nothing would have prepared you for this. For one—his stamina is incredible, and no one told you how hard it would be to have casual sex without it getting messy. You can see yourself falling but do not know how to stop it.
Jeongguk’s muscles strain as he reaches for his shirt on the floor. He pulls it over his head and pats away the collected dust. You are simultaneously putting your skirt back on and fixing your shirt to busy yourself. You feel self-conscious every time, never knowing what to say after all the dirty things he whispers in your ear as he spears you with his cock. These exchanges are becoming more frequent, yet you still have not figured out how to make it less awkward post-sex.
He finds your underwear hooked over the lawnmower's handle, grabs it, and shoves it in his back pocket before you have the chance to ask for it. You look at him in question. “I’m sorry, do you want to wear your panties that were on the dusty lawnmower?” he asks with a slight grin and one eyebrow raised.
A flush creeps across your cheeks. Returning to the movie without anything underneath your skirt while his load slides down your inner thigh makes your face feel impossibly hot. How his eyes twinkle with mischief makes you realize how much he enjoys this. “It’s fine. I can wear it.” You reach your hand out, waiting for him to hand them over.
He shakes his head, that smile never leaving his lips as he grabs your hand and pulls you to him. His head coming down next to yours and his mouth near your ear. “Raise your leg,” he commands, his hot breath fans your neck. You place your hands on either of his shoulders for balance as you do as you are told.
Jeongguk retrieves your underwear from his back pocket. He plucks away a piece of grass and holds them before you, encouraging you to step into them. You raise one leg, slip it through the opening, and then the other. You feel his hands brush your legs as he helps slide the thin fabric up your thighs, over your ass, then securing them around your hips.
His hand cups your cunt suddenly, long fingers fondle your engorged folds, and you immediately let out a whimper at the touch. “You’re dirty in more ways than one now,” he snickers before pulling back with an even bigger smirk. He turns and heads to the shed door, opening it wide so you can pass through first, but you are rooted in place.
You are thankful for the darkness as you feel your face flush.
“Come on. We got to be back before the movie ends,” he reasons, laughing at your shocked state.
Feet finally moving, you walk past him and through the opening. Jeongguk follows shortly after, shutting the door quietly behind him. With light steps, you two head back to the makeshift outdoor movie theater; everyone is still too engrossed in the film to notice your arrival. You sit back in the seat you had abandoned, picking up the blanket that had since fallen on the ground during your absence. Luckily, an intense fight scene is playing, masking the sound of your return.
Jeongguk takes his respective seat just as he catches Taehyung slightly turning his head to make eye contact with him. The corners of his lips rise, a knowing smirk plastered on his face as he raises his eyebrows suggestively. Jeongguk curses under his breath, the tip of his ears turning red in response. He focuses back on the screen before he glances to see if Taehyung is still looking at him. 
He catches his gaze again. This time, Taehyung shakes his head with the same smirk and turns back to continue watching the film. He takes a deep breath, embarrassed for getting caught, yet he is thankful that it is Taehyung, of all people. Any other person would give him shit, probably stop the movie and make a scene.
The film ends, and the clean-up crew stays behind to take down and deconstruct the theater. Jeongguk observes you heading back towards the cabins with Yoongi and Seokjin in tow while he waits to help dismantle the screen. If he is honest with himself, he was hoping you would turn around to mouth goodnight or even a wave, but you continue with the guys and head into your bunk for the night.
A tap on his shoulder grabs his attention, and he turns to find Taehyung creeping close. “So, how long has that been going on?” he asks under his breath.
Jeongguk’s fingers tighten around the fabric, visibly wincing in embarrassment. Again, he finds himself in a predicament that he cannot escape. He glances around him, gauging to see if anyone else is listening or paying attention to them. They are all busy packing away the sound system or moving the chairs back into storage. 
“It’s nothing serious. We uh,” he looks around and continues under his breath, “We’re sort of just hooking up.”
“Oh?” Taehyung says too loudly. “It’s about damn time.” His hand comes down to pat him on the back, congratulating him.
Jeongguk folds the sheet in his hands, smoothing it down and setting it on the table. He clears the doubt creeping up his throat. “Yea, but it’s not as simple as you think.”
He has been struggling to understand the way he feels about you. These emotions are repeatedly brought up following your hook-ups; after it is all said and done, he wants more. But that is just it—more of what?
“Hmm,” Taehyung looks beyond the cabins and into the woods, “Do you want to go to our spot and talk about it?”
The tension in his body releases at his words. What a relief it would be to talk to someone about how he has been feeling. Immediately he takes him up on his offer, nodding in response. Taehyung jerked his head toward the direction of a large boulder at the edge of the lake that had become their designated spot. Abandoning his task, Jeongguk follows behind his friend. 
The boys take the small dirt path through the woods, a testimony to how frequently they have visited this site over the years. Taehyung walks ahead and reaches the boulder first, climbing up the side. Jeongguk mirrors his actions and sits perched at the top, facing the expanse of the lake with Taehyung right beside him. The camp is no longer in view, the light of every cabin dims between the trees, and they are secluded.
Jeongguk sighs, his hand coming up to ruffle the hairs on the back of his head while he sits crossed-legged. “I’m assuming you know what happened during the canoeing trip four days ago?” He peers over to Taehyung, thankful that the sun has settled, and he cannot see his face flush with humiliation.
Taehyung laughs, leaning on his hands as he throws his head back in amusement. “Of course I do. That’s all everyone talked about for the next day or two.”
“Great.” He rolls his eyes. Of course, the whole damn group would know about it. Hoseok and his big mouth. He should not be surprised at how quickly the news had spread among the camp counselors. Nothing is kept secret for long.
“Yeah. Namjoon had informed us of his plan to put you two together that morning.” Jeongguk’s head snaps to gape at his friend. “We knew something, good or bad, was bound to happen.”
This was a complete setup. The boys went behind his back and planned this whole thing without telling him. “You couldn’t have warned me?” He looks at Taehyung intrusively and shakes his head as his friend laughs. “Whatever dude. Thanks for the heads up.”
“You never would have agreed to it in the first place. Of course, it had to be kept a secret.” Taehyung sits up. “But hey, looks like it worked out in the end. No?” 
Jeongguk stays silent, mewling over the rhetorical question. He cannot deny that things have been going well since then in terms of extracurricular activities.
“Do you regret it?”
He picks up a lone branch off the boulder's surface as he considers the question. The atmosphere around the two is getting more serious now that they’re talking about feelings and all, something Jeongguk has a hard time with. He twirls the branch in his hand as he responds, “No, but it’s more of what happened after that caught me off guard.”
His shoulders slump forward while Taehyung stays quiet, waiting for him to continue wordlessly. He has always been a great listener and never pushes the conversation, which he appreciates. 
“Well, first and foremost, she apologized to me. But it was what she said after we got back,” he sighs, glancing at Taehyung before gazing back at the lake. “She asked me where we go from there. About us,” the branch in his grasp snapped in two, “and I didn’t have an answer for her.”
“You left her hanging?”
Jeongguk throws the broken branch into the lake, watching as the ripples race across the surface. “I asked her to give me time because I’m not—or at least I wasn’t entirely over the bullshit she’s pulled on me for the past couple of years. It’s difficult to overcome my hatred for the stuff she put me through. But I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m attracted to her, that I like the feel of her lips on mine.”
Sounds of crickets, frogs, and the occasional fish breaking the surface, fill the silence as he processes that last sentence. The hairs on his arms involuntarily stand on end as he ruminates about your kiss, how soft and delicate they were. However, he cannot help but feel an unsettling churn in the pit of his stomach.
“The only time we spend together alone is when we're fucking. We sort of agreed to this arrangement in the meantime.” Jeongguk shrugs. “We both have admitted being attracted to one another, and it’s been nice and all, but–”
“To be honest, it sounds like you're leading her on though,” Taehyung cuts in, picking up a small rock and toying with it in his hands. 
Jeongguk sighed deeply at the thought. “Yeah, I'm realizing that now. I'm starting to feel like I want more,” he admits aloud, speaking this truth for the first time. He has been struggling with this idea for the past few days. The more time he spends with you, albeit it is typically all physical, he finds himself looking forward to the next time you two get to be alone. This time, not only for pleasure.
However, an inkling of doubt still passes through his mind when he considers what a relationship with you would be like. “I’ve never dealt with someone like her before. Someone who would challenge me. I’m used to people being fake nice to me, using me for my status. To have this girl, who doesn't know me or my upbringing, challenge me in every aspect—it intimidated me, to be honest.” He places his head in his palms. “God, I could never let anyone know about that. People would think I'm weak.” 
“No, it doesn't mean you're weak at all. She is intimidating.” Taehyung laughs. “She’s a strong woman, and I think that allures you. It’s what attracts you to her.”
He raises his head, hands passing through his hair before bringing them into his lap and relaxing his shoulders. “Yeah, you can say that.”
Again things go quiet around them, while an owl in the distance hoots in the middle of its nightly routine, Jeongguk ponders on that notion. Perhaps Taehyung is right. Independence and assertiveness are qualities he admires in you. However, it was not like that before. He felt replaced when you first stepped into the picture, and he struggled with his jealousy over the attention and responsibility you took away from him. 
Taehyung throws the rock he has been playing with into the lake, inevitably breaking the silence. “You should talk to her soon. Especially before the kids arrive on Sunday.”
“Yeah, I will.” He needs to resolve this problem soon. Things would only get messy once the kids arrived.
Taehyung turns to look at him, meeting his eyes with sincerity. “While we can’t control what memories stick with us or not, we can control what we choose to focus on,” he begins, “We can choose to focus and ruminate about past wrongs committed against us, or we can move on from it and make new memories.”
Jeongguk slowly nods, taking it in. He brings his knees to his chest and looks out onto the lake while Taehyung’s words repeatedly play in his mind.
Taehyung rises, wiping the dirt from his rear and stretching his arms over his head. “Let’s head back?”
Jeongguk looks up at him and motions a hand up to him. Taehyung grips his hands and helps him onto his feet. The pair climb down the rock, taking the same path back to the campsite.
Jeongguk finds himself alone in the same spot the following evening, on top of the boulder and eyes fixated out onto the lake as he sits with his thoughts. The sun has long since gone down, and the moon is a tad brighter than yesterday, glistening on the lake’s calm surface.
The counselors had called it a night after an exhaustive hiking trip earlier in the day, and he was the last to get out of the shower. He had made his way to his own cabin to follow suit, but Taehyung’s words rang through his head the entire time he lay in silence, and he felt restless, unable to sleep. He had slipped out of his bunk after tossing and turning for over half an hour before he reluctantly got up to get fresh air.
Jeongguk’s gaze would meet your figure as he observed you throughout the hike. He saw how you interacted with others, in awe of how social and outgoing you are. You get along with everyone around you, this he has always known, but he has been more attentive lately. His stomach fluttered when you approached him and wordlessly shared your trail mix with him; the smile on your face when he accepted your offer made his ears hot. 
The small action affected him tremendously, and he has not stopped thinking about it since. He is finding that these types of gestures are easy to appreciate coming from you and that it is not difficult to push aside the past resentment he had harbored for years. 
He has often caught himself thinking of the possibilities of your friendship had he not been so envious of you. Many ‘what ifs’ have plagued his mind since last night’s conversation.
Taehyung is correct; making new memories is far more effective than continuing to mull over the past.
The rock beneath him begins to feel uncomfortable as he has been sitting out here for some time and not realizing how late it has become. He contemplates heading back and trying to sleep, but the sound of someone setting a canoe in the water catches his attention. From his position on the boulder, Jeongguk can see the camp’s dock extending far into the lake and witness someone climbing in there. 
The person begins to paddle to the center, the movement creating ripples along the water’s surface. Who would be out here this late?
Jeongguk stands, stretching from his stiff position, and begins to head back to try and catch some sleep. Whoever that is must want some time alone, and he does not want to intrude. He clears the woods after walking the path back to camp and glances one more time out to the lake to observe the figure in the canoe. 
The moon’s light illuminates your figure; he can see your face more clearly from where he stands now. He stops in his tracks. What are you doing out there? He thought he saw you head to bed after he got out of the shower and that everyone was sleeping by this time. 
Curious to know what you are up to, he takes light footsteps towards the dock, where several empty canoes lay anchored in the water. The opportunity to discuss the chaos in his mind, the ones he started to unpack with Tae the night before, presents itself at this moment.
You sit idle in the middle of the lake, a place of isolation and room to think. The temperature is warmer than expected; you expected the air to be crisp without the nightly bonfire. Removing your sweatshirt to get more comfortable, you move to sit in the hull of the canoe and use the piece of clothing as a pillow while you lay back to admire the night sky and mull over the current status of your relationship with Jeongguk. 
Relationship? It is nothing close to what you would consider a relationship, more like a nonverbal understanding between two people who cannot openly communicate their real feelings. You know this, and you have acknowledged it, but juggling your emotions around him is becoming exhausting. With every touch of his lips on your skin and the roam of his fingers along your curves, you are falling deeper and deeper into something beyond lust.
Yet, you have never felt so lonely, ironically enough, because he may not feel the same way. It is simply an exchange of pleasure; he probably enjoys getting his dick wet and does not want anything beyond a physical relationship. He never gets too intimate, there is little to no kissing between you, and he never spends the night. An unsettling feeling always drops in the pit of your stomach every time he starts to fasten his pants back on. His boundaries are clearly set without having to be voiced.
Jeongguk’s demeanor changes around others. He typically stays on the opposite end of any group activity, as if he is trying to put the most distance between your bodies when around the counselors. He never sits beside you, walks beside you, and avoids talking to you directly. The limited interaction in a public setting is a big contrast to when you are alone. He is all over you, engulfing you in his stature, and you have his complete and undivided attention. 
Sex. That is all it is to him. 
It sucks. You want more, and it is starting to hurt whenever you get together, but you cannot seem to stop taking the opportunity to have him at every chance. You do not know how much longer you can take this exchange before you regret ever giving yourself to him, waiting on the day he admits not wanting anything more beyond the hook-up. 
“Hey.”
Frightened by the sudden voice, the canoe rocks beneath you as you jolt and sit up, startled. “Holy shit,” you almost scream. You meet eyes with Jeongguk’s familiar, nearly obsidian ones. His lips' ends are curled into a soft smile, suppressing a laugh. 
His attempt is futile as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Sorry for startling you.”
Gripping the edges of the canoe, you pull yourself up from the hull and onto the seat as you collect yourself, trying not to outwardly cringe at your obnoxious screech. The blush across your cheeks feels hot while you glance at Jeongguk, only to see him rotating his boat to sit parallel to yours. He sits opposite you, both on either end of your respective canoes, facing one another in the middle of the lake alone. The moon is high in the sky now, signifying how late it is.
“I wasn’t expecting someone else to be in the middle of the lake at a time like this.” You tuck some hair behind your ear, trying to settle the frantic heartbeat in your chest.
Jeongguk places his paddle down before turning his attention back to you. “I saw you paddling out here by yourself. I thought I’d leave you alone for a bit before coming to interrupt.”
“What are you doing outside your bunk so late at night?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Same as you. Thinking. Clearing my head.” Jeongguk pushes a sigh past his lips, a hand running through his hair.
You nod, looking down at your hands and picking at your cuticles while a silent pause settles between you two. Everything around you goes quiet except for the occasional sounds of frogs croaking in the distance. You wonder what he means by clearing his head and why he seems troubled by it. Is he tired of you yet? The topic of his ‘conflicting feelings’ clouds your mind.
“I think it’s time we talk about us,” he says, breaking the heavy silence.
And there it is. 
Your eyes immediately move to him in shock, but you quickly divert your attention to the woods behind him, not able to look him in the eyes. With no audible response, you nod for him to continue while you clutch your sweaty hands.
“I want you to know that I don’t regret that day.” he pauses, a blush creeping on his face. “You know, the day out on the river.” 
The hazy fog of your first hook-up briefly passes through the front of your mind; now you are also blushing. Your flitting gaze shifts to your hands, the lake around you, and the camp close to shore—you are looking everywhere but at him.
“And all the times we’ve been together since,” he rushes out his words as if reassuring you.
Your ears feel like they are on fire; you want the world to swallow you at this very moment.
Jeongguk coughs, clearing his throat before drawing a breath that releases the tangled knot of words in his heart. “But more importantly, I want you to know I’ve forgiven you. Forgiven you for all the bullshit.”
Your head jerks in his direction. “I—” you start and stop suddenly as he raises his hand to halt your train of thought.
“You don’t need to explain yourself. You’ve already apologized, and I heard the sincerity in your voice. I’m ready to move past it all,” he explains. “I also acted like an ass towards you, and again I apologize for it.”
“I know. I don’t blame you.” 
The relief you feel, you feel like a heavy weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
“Can I ask you something?” you question. He nods, motioning you to continue. “That night last year, when it was just the two of us. Do you remember?”
He nods again. “The last night of camp.”
“Yea.” You pause and look away. Maybe you should not bring this up. Perhaps you are reading too much into it. Your mouth feels dry, and the fluttering feeling in your stomach builds as you contemplate the following few words. You return your gaze to him to see him watching you intently, hanging onto your every word. “Why did you let me in? Telling me about your home life, family, and so-called friends. You hated me, yet you opened up that night.”
Jeongguk regards you solemnly as you go back to fiddling with your fingers. That kind of hurt, being reminded how he openly hated you. “Because I overheard you complaining about your mom earlier that night. I empathize with you.”
That night was when he realized that you’re just a regular person. Beyond his hatred, he could see that you also hurt.
“Oh.”
Jeongguk explains further, “I know what it’s like to have unrealistic expectations put on your shoulders, and I thought it could comfort you knowing you’re not alone.”
With your arms cradling your midsection, you look down at your feet. “And it was comforting. You were comforting that night.”
Your mind immediately goes back to that moment your gazes met while talking. That was the first time his eyes were not full of hatred or anger; they were soft and relaxed. He spent the entire summer sending you scornful looks and scrutinizing your every move, but at that moment—the end of camp—you finally saw him like other people did. 
The following few words leave your lips without much thought while you lift your gaze back to his face. “If we’re being honest, I wanted to kiss you then,” you tell him, looking down at his lips quickly and then back to his eyes. 
“Yeah, I know.” Jeongguk mirrors your actions and peers down to your lips, ones he has become obsessed with lately. They pinch together in haste while your brows crease together in confusion.
“You knew? What—”
“Because I wanted to too. I just didn’t have the balls to actually do it.” He sees the ends of your lips lift, then he realizes what he said. Poor choice of words on his part. “Shut up.” Jeongguk chuckles.
The curve of your smile rests in a straight line after a few moments of shared laughs. With a small voice, you tell him, “I wouldn’t have guessed with the way you greeted me when I arrived at camp.” You look away for a moment, out onto the lake, before you continue, “I thought perhaps we could have reconnected, but you were so quick to insult me that I thought that night meant nothing to you. That what we shared meant noth—”
The words fail to leave your mouth when he grips the edge of your canoe to pull you forward, dragging you closer to him. Your body jolts, but he grabs your hand to balance you.
“I’m sorry for my brash response to you that day. It was extremely immature of me.” He was trading insults with you not long ago, going at each other with no remorse or sympathy. Now he is holding your hand, thumb gently sweeping along your knuckles. “Isn’t it strange to think that just a while back, we were always fighting?” he asks.
“Like cats and dogs”, you quip, “I didn’t ever think we’d be here like this.” You brush your hair off your shoulders and sit up straighter. He can see your mind running, overthinking like you always do. “Where do we go from here?” you whisper.
This moment feels like déjà vu, bringing him back to the day of the canoe trip. This time, he will not leave you hanging as he did.
“Come.”
Jeongguk grips your hands, drawing you to get up as you shakily stand in your canoe, moving one leg at a time to climb over into his. He lets go of one hand to grab your hips, never dropping your hand as he helps you over by carefully pulling you forward, grip tightening as both your feet land steadily in front of him.
Effortlessly he brings you towards him, craving to have you near. Hands moving down from your hip to the back of your thighs to pull you onto his lap. Once again, he finds you straddling him in a canoe. The hairs on his arms stand on end as you snake your arms around his neck for balance. Your fingers feel cold to the touch, making him shiver in your embrace.
Your body is close but he pulls you closer with his hands on your lower back, fingers moving under your shirt to feel your soft skin. The bit of light shining from the bright moon allows him to gaze into your eyes. The silence is comfortable as the abandoned canoe slowly starts to drift away.
Taeyhyung’s words echo in his mind. Leading you on was never his intention, and he only realizes now that he was doing precisely that. All along, he has been thinking about himself and how he may not be ready for a relationship in his final year of school. His life responsibilities will only grow after graduation. Being in a relationship was at the bottom of the list. The next few years are already mapped out for him by his parents; adding a girlfriend onto that would only serve as a distraction. 
But everything changed in a span of days. His routine summer camp job did not start like any other ordinary summer; things were different this time. His priorities have been slightly altered after that incident on the riverbank a few days ago. The idea of a relationship is not so bad anymore.
At this very moment, while your warm breath fans across his face, Jeongguk has arrived at the conclusion that he has come to develop feelings for you—that much he is sure about now.  He lifts his hand, fingertips brushing against your skin as he sweeps back a strand of hair behind your ear. Maybe whatever he feels is not seasonal; perhaps he wants to have you this close beyond the few weeks of camp.
You feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach the moment he clears his throat. You have been anxiously sitting in his lap for some time with nothing but crickets in the distance, waiting for him to say something as you were too nervous to speak up. 
He is playing with the hem of your shirt, diverting his gaze. “I don’t know what the future holds once camp is over,” he begins, “but for the time being, I would like to be with you.”
A wave of euphoria overcomes your body in an instant. Your heart hammers in your chest while your breath hitches in your throat. This time you heard him loud and clear.
“And I don’t mean just sex. I want to actually get to know you better. Like your favorite color, or what type of music you listen to, or where you—” 
You cut Jeongguk’s rambling short by reaching for his face. Cool palms against his warm cheeks to pull his jaw upward, so he faces you, eye to eye. The feeling of his hands shaking against your lower back is obvious, he is nervous. “I would like that too,” you say. 
Your hands drop to his shoulders now that you have his full attention. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, eyes big and full while he takes in what you said. You take your time to run your fingertips against his skin, up his forehand, playing with the baby hairs along his hairline. 
Jeongguk’s hand clutches your wrist, halting your movement. He leans in and captures your lips. You have never kissed him like this before, soft and gentle. You melt into his embrace.
He pulls away, “Also, I’m sorry for being so possessive over you yesterday. I shouldn’t be claiming your pussy—” 
“Jeongguk.” You throw your head back, a loud laugh escaping your lungs.
The screen door shrieks as Jeongguk nudges it open. He steps out of your cabin, closing the door behind him while you sleep soundly in your bunk, wrapped under your cozy blankets. It has only been a few hours since you two went to bed, but he wanted to leave your cabin before anyone else woke up.
That idea quickly goes down the drain the moment his feet land on the steps, and he hears the sound of someone whistling from afar. Looking up, he glances at the picnic table across the row of cabins. The rest of the group is already up and eating breakfast together, all huddling and scarfing down food, but their attention has strayed from the meals in front of them and to Jeongguk striding out of your cabin.
He makes his way over, shyly walking with his head down and face hot as they continue to holler suggestive comments. The tips of his ears turned hot with every step.
“We all know you’ve been fucking for the past few days. Yall aren’t as sneaky as you think,” Yoongi says. Hoseok snickers and reaches over the table to high-five him as Jeongguk shakes his head and sits on the bench across from Taehyung.
Namjoon slams his cup of orange juice on the table and points directly at him, trying to suppress the ends of his lips from curling. “Once the kids come on Sunday, you two need to be more discreet about your rendezvous.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes, grunting and leaning over the table with his arms crossed and head down. This could not possibly get more humiliating. But it does as the group continues with the smart-ass remarks and taunting behavior for the next few minutes. 
The chatter around him dies down. With full stomachs and chores to do, the camper counselors get up to start their day, leaving Taehyung and him alone at the table. He peers up to see Taehyung come closer, elbows on the table and leaning forward with one eyebrow raised and a smirk etched on his face. 
“I see the talk went well.”
He coughs, pulling at the collar of his shirt with his face and neck feeling incredibly warm. It is hard stopping the corners of his mouth from rising, a smile that he cannot hold back. Yeah, he could say the talk went well—really well, but he’s keeping those details to himself.
Their heads snap in the direction of your cabin at the sound of the door swinging open and then slamming back shut. You take the steps down quickly, feet meeting the ground before you look over to them and meet eyes with him, a small smile appearing on your face as you head towards the dining hall for breakfast.
Jeongguk finally responds to Taehyung's observation, his gaze never dropping from yours. “We’re going to take the summer to get to know each other.” 
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MASTERLIST
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sungbeam · 1 year
Text
OFF THE RECORD ▷ PART ONE (EP1-8)
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nonidol!ji changmin x fem!reader
everyone thinks changmin is cute and harmless, but you know that's not who he really is.
▷ genre, part warnings. e2l, childhood friends gone bad, (extra) slow burn, fluff, angst, mentions of childhood trauma and parental manipulation, arguing, bittersweet galore, nct ten is there for the sole purpose of being nosy like the rest of us or for being a 2nd male lead who knows!, swearing, hurt/comfort, ji changmin dancing. (need i go on), symptoms of panic/anxiety, a lot of non-tbz moments sorry i meant it when i said extra slow burn, pining haha...ha (very subtle)
▷ PART ONE WC. 18.5k
this is the third installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but i encourage u to read jacob and eric's storylines too! all prev and future yns will be referred to as _!yn ;) / otr part two
a/n: this was going to be a very quirky author's note, but it's not anymore bc i'm really mad at tumblr. pls enjoy :')
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EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OFF THE CLOCK
"NIGHT, Yn!"
"Good night, Yn-ie."
"Make sure you get some rest, Yn-ah! Good luck with the report."
The door out of the laboratory building shuttered closed after your last coworkers and peers swept out to leave you to the white noise of the lights above your head and the cooling units. You were probably the only person crazy enough to still be chained to your lab workbench on a Friday night, especially when it was already six o'clock. Your stomach growled its complaints as you tucked a pen behind your ear with a sigh. There was probably a bag of shrimp chips in the break room snack stash, and you pushed your stool beneath the workbench to head into the break room.
Now that the laboratory was practically barren except for you, it wouldn't be a bad idea to take the reign of Kun's speaker…
The sound of your phone ringtone blared out loud from your pocket, and you scrambled to grab it with your other hand not occupied with shrimp chip crumb dust (after having washed your hands, of course). You put the call on speaker then deposited your phone onto the countertop so both hands could be used for eating. "Yo."
"You've been hanging around Mark too much," Yeri answered from the other end.
You snorted, covering your mouth for a moment, then replying, "Well good evening to you, too, my beloved. What's up?"
You could hear the muffled sounds of your friends from the other side of the phone. A car door slammed shut. "Hey-yo, is that Yn? Yn, what's up, my dude?"
"Mark, can you speak like a regular human?" That was Seungkwan. "Hi Yn-ie! We miss you, mwah!"
"Look, man. Me and Yn are homies, and this is literally just how I talk—"
The car door opened and Yeri must have taken initiative to get out of the car herself at this point. You laughed at her audible eye roll. "Okay, now that you've heard what I have to deal with, will you tell me that you're coming to the dance draft show tonight?"
Your mood soured.
It wasn't that you didn't want to go for Yeri's sanity's sake, you just didn't want to go, period. What the performing arts called a rehearsal, they referred to as a "draft" stage, where they planned rough runs of acts for the showcase. It just so happened that the dance department was holding their draft show for people to sit-in to watch tonight; their final showcase would be held on the Friday night of finals week, which was only in a few weeks now.
(Why did they call it a "draft" stage instead of simply a "rehearsal"? Well, you had no clue, and you didn't have any plans to ask anyone who would know the answer.)
When you didn't immediately answer, you heard Yeri's grumble. "Don't nerd out on me, Miss Yn Ln."
You gasped. "Nerd out on you? I'm being responsible—"
"You're being a workaholic!"
You pursed your lips together and quickly rinsed your fingers of shrimp chip crumbs. "Fair. But I'm sorry, I'm not going."
A brief pause. Then, the sigh. "Okay. That's okay," she said. "Wanna meet us for dinner afterwards at least?"
Your stomach grumbled, right on cue. It wasn't loud enough for Yeri to hear on the other end, but the timing made you laugh to yourself. "Definitely."
There was a smile in your friend's voice. "Cool! I'll text you details once we figure out what's happening. In the mean—" her voice was interrupted by the sound of muffled yelling on the other side, and Yeri pulled her mouth away from the phone so she could screech at Seungkwan, Mark, and now, Kim Jungwoo, to be quiet and put their seatbelts on. You heard vaguely about Jungwoo being late for his call time, and you were not at all surprised. She returned to the phone with a grumble. "You're really leaving me with the kids, Yn?"
You giggled. "Sorry, Yeri. I'll pay for your dinner."
"Deal. See you soon, babe."
"See ya, love!"
When the phone call ended, you realized just how thick the silence fell around you. It settled like a blanket over your senses, and it all became a bit overwhelming, especially after such a loud phone call.
You sighed, putting the shrimp chips back in the snack stash. You might as well go find where Kun hid his speaker to fill the silence then.
— ✶
People were yelling. And tripping. And crying.
In retrospect, this constituted as a normal backstage environment for something like a finals showcase draft rehearsal. It was hardly even a rehearsal, but more so a sneak peek showcase. There were people in the audience, after all.
Ji Changmin would know. This would be his third winter draft show out of his three years here in university. There were always showcases at the end of each quarter, but the winter show wielded the title of most anticipated. With the cold and rainy weather keeping most people indoors, it allowed for a larger crowd to come flocking toward said indoor modes of entertainment. Thus, the winter showcase and all of its hype.
Changmin lingered in his little corner of the backstage area, calmly stretching out his lanky limbs while chaos erupted all around him. He had two acts this time around—a duet with Lee Juyeon, as well as a solo performance. It had been enough to keep him busy for the quarter, among his other classes.
"—Jungwoo, you're late!"
He raised his head at the sound of Lee Minho’s voice from across the room, the dirty blond sending a deadpanned glare at the man in question. Kim Jungwoo’s eyes were wide with doe-like innocence as he made his way toward his friend, his posse following behind and taking in the chaos with amused awe. Changmin could easily recognize those present—Kim Yeri, Mark Lee, and Boo Seungkwan.
He turned his head away; it wasn’t his business, and he had much bigger things to worry about.
He raised his hands to his neck to put his headphones over his ears, but paused when he caught a few more echoes of their conversation.
“ — sorry Minho, but you know I can’t resist getting a free carpool ride,” Jungwoo said while setting his duffle bag in the corner and swiftly joining Minho in stretches. If Changmin was a hard ass when it came to dance and schedules, Minho was much worse. But Changmin respected him a lot, especially in a craft like dance and performance—he saw him as an equal.
A sigh from Minho. “Yeah, yeah. Poor Yeri.”
Yeri huffed, her hands shooting up into the air. “Thank you!”
Minho folded his arms over his chest as he stood up straight to stand next to Yeri as the two of them absentmindedly watched Jungwoo fold himself in two to stretch his long legs out. “Huh, no Yn tonight?”
Changmin didn’t know why he was still listening. He slowly lowered his headphones back to their position around his neck, then resumed stretching out his hamstrings. He could wait a couple more minutes before getting into his choreography…
“You know you’re not gonna see her anywhere near this place,” Yeri said with a pointed look. Changmin held back a retort, or even a snort. “Wanna get dinner with us tonight? She’s coming to meet us after the show.”
“Ah, I’d love to, but I promised Jisung I’d swing by the studio afterwards. Hey, have you met Ten yet? You should ask…”
Changmin decided that this was an appropriate moment to tune out. He swiftly donned his headphones and reached for his phone hidden in the pile of his duffle bag and jackets in the corner. He didn’t even know why he listened in when your friends brought you up. Why were you even still connected to the dance and performing arts department people anyway? He huffed, rolling his eyes with a small shake of his head. It wasn’t like you wanted to be connected to dance anyway. So why give him a constant reminder of your existence and the past you shared—
“Changminnie!” Juyeon appeared in front of him, waving to him with that goofy smile to get his attention.
Changmin broke into a smile as he shifted one side of his headphones from his ear. “Hey. Wanna go over some of the routine?”
Juyeon nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready. I was trying to get your attention, but I think you were just occupied.”
Whoops. Changmin flicked his wrist as he followed Juyeon down the hallway to a more private place to practice with his friend. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking of something.”
“Oh, okay,” Juyeon ducked his head into an empty dressing room in the back hallway, beckoning Changmin to follow him in. “Nothing to worry about though? You can talk to me; no judgment.”
Changmin chuckled and closed the door behind him. “Nah, nothing important. Let’s just focus on the performance.” Anything involving you? Definitely not important anymore.
— ✶
Late February brought the cold, bitter winds of night to the university, so the trek all the way across campus from the laboratory buildings to the performing arts hall was a hellish one. You kept your head tucked into the puffy collar of your puffer jacket, hands stuffed into your pockets, a happy tune blasting in your ears to keep you going all the way up the road. It was around nine o’clock by the time you made it to the front of the performing arts hall, and you could already see the sea of people meandering outside its doors post-draft show.
You shivered and pulled your phone out from your pocket to see where your friends were waiting for you.
“Yn-ie!”
Your head lifted and you grinned, waving your hand at Seungkwan who was making his way over to you. “Hi Kwannie,” you greeted and wrapped your arms around him in a warm embrace.
When you’d pulled away, Seungkwan made a face as he shuddered. “Jesus, it’s cold. I should have brought a scarf or something. Did you walk here?”
You began to nod, but he tsked. “Aish, Yn. You should’ve called! No one should have to walk in this torturous cold.”
You laughed. “It’s no big deal. We’re about to go get some hot food, so it’s cool.”
“We might have to wait for a little longer.” Both you and Seungkwan turned toward Yeri, Mark, and Jungwoo who were walking over. Jungwoo had a sweatband holding his bangs out of his face and his duffle slung over his shoulder. He had his jacket draped over his arm; he was probably warm from the showcase. “We’re waiting on Ten to finish up.”
“Hi Jungwoo,” you greeted him, and the man returned the expression with a side hug. You furrowed your brows. “Who’s Ten?’’
Mark replied with a sniffle from the cold, “Oh, he’s a new exchange student! Well, he was originally admitted here, but he went abroad for a year. He's with the NCT frat. Super cool, super funny. He’s great at dance though.”
“I think you’ll vibe with him, Yn,” Yeri chimed in. “He’s asking a couple people for their opinion on a few parts of his routine, so I think he’ll be out soon.”
You nodded in understanding. You didn’t mind waiting, but you hoped what Yeri said about him was true. Hopefully you did get along with him, because you were honestly far too tired to forcefully play nice. You were hoping for a chill night anyway. Then again, as long as you could avoid a certain someone tonight, this would turn out to be a chill night in general.
You and your friends chatted for a few minutes only before Jungwoo caught someone’s eyes from behind you, Yeri, and Mark. He brightened. “Ten! Ten, over here!”
You all swiveled.
Ten was just as lean and lithe as Jungwoo was, but with black bangs, a pair of round spectacles hanging from the collar of his white T-shirt, and a cute smile on his face. You and he made brief eye contact before Jungwoo was hopping on the balls of his feet to greet him.
Jungwoo slung an arm around Ten’s shoulders as he brought him over to the group. “Yn, this is Ten Lee. Ten, this is Yn-ie—the friend we mentioned earlier.”
Your eyes widened slightly. “Why was I mentioned?” You laughed nervously.
Ten flashed you a boyish kind of smile. “Oh, it was nothing; don’t worry. It’s nice to meet you though.”
Your heart didn't slow at his assurance. “Ah, okay then. Uh, nice to meet you, too!”
“Did you get your routine settled?” Seungkwan asked as the lot of you began to move in one, loose blob toward Yeri’s car. (How all of you would manage to fit, that was something you mentally were trying to figure out. In Yeri’s tiny sedan, you might have to squish four people into the back seat.)
Ten nodded enthusiastically. “Yup, it’s all sorted. Minho and Changmin were really helpful with their comments.”
You felt the people around you freeze at the mention of Changmin’s name. You stiffened as well, but tried to force the strange feeling to go away. Your friends knew the drill, too, but you saw the way they glanced at you from their periphery.
Ten was smart, you realized, when his head tilted at all of your reactions.
Time for damage control. “That’s—that’s good!” Mark’s voice cracked and coughed to clear it. “I mean, Minho’s always been really attentive to details and stuff. I think he was almost recruited to become an idol or something like that…”
Ten pursed his lips, as if silently saying, ‘I’m not buying this bull’. You decided to just… do it. “Changmin’s a great dancer, too,” you said, and everyone shot disbelieving glances your way, but you could already see how Ten was grasping onto everything you were saying. You forced a neutral tone into the way you spoke, forced yourself not to let the bitterness seep through. No one deserved to fall victim to the feelings that were only meant for one Ji Changmin. “I’m glad he helped you out. He’s really good at sharp movements and isolations.”
“Oh, do you dance, Yn?” Ten piped up with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Ruh roh,” you heard Seungkwan murmur, and he shuffled away from you to go to the other side of Yeri’s car.
Maybe you purposefully let him see right through you. “Not really. It was a long time ago.”
You and Ten held eye contact, the silent tension like communication passed between the two of you—this was personal, but Ten could figure out that there was more to the story. It was odd though; the way he didn’t fear prodding just a little bit. You didn’t know why you were letting yourself feed him more bait, but Yeri was hollering for the two of you to squeeze into the backseat, and you snapped out of it.
Weird…
Ten held the backseat door open for you. “Looking forward to getting to know you, Yn,” he said pleasantly.
Your eyes narrowed slightly as you slipped into the backseat. “Same to you…”
EPISODE TWO: OFF THE TABLE
YOUR curiosity won you out.
In fact, it won you over so much that you agreed to get coffee with Ten Saturday afternoon—with Mark and Yeri, of course. The four of you had coordinated stopping by one of the coffee shops in the shopping mall just down the hill from the university to hang out and destress a little from the incoming second wave of STEM midterms. Well, you needed to destress. Mark was in communications, Yeri in psychology, and Ten was… what was Ten’s major again?
“Foreign affairs,” he answered before lifting the straw of his iced americano to his lips. “Lots of foreign language classes and politics and history. Politics and capitalism classes are not my favorite, but all the cultural courses on campus are really great.”
You bobbed your head, propping your chin onto your palm. You sat across from him at one of high tables in the cafe; Mark and Yeri’s stools were barren, save for the belongings they left for you and Ten to watch, while they literally sprinted across the mall to the grocery store because they forgot they were supposed to bring booze to the NCT-RVE joint alumni homecoming tonight. You probably weren’t going to go just because social energy came in short supply these days, but you promised to send a card for your friends in RVE.
“I can imagine,” you commented. “I took a really neat course on African tribes and culture in freshman year, and I miss my professor a lot. I sometimes wonder what would have happened had I joined his study abroad program in Ghana instead of staying here.”
Ten’s head did the tilt thing again, the one you recognized from last night as something he did when he was intrigued. “That does sound really cool. What made you stay?”
Where do I even begin? “My major,” you replied simply. It wasn’t really a lie—not entirely a lie. You sipped on your latte, a faraway look in your eyes. “I was so set on a plan that I guess I got nervous about the unknown should I have gone on that trip.”
“Mm, I understand.” He had taken on a softer look now, something more akin to empathy. “It is a little scary, but while I was in Indonesia, I realized I wouldn’t have traded such an experience for anything else."
You set your cup down. "Have you always wanted to dabble in global affairs?"
"Uh, I'm not sure," he said, head tilted upward with a scrunch in his nose. He nudged his glasses up the smooth slope of his sculpted nose. "I was kind of put in a situation where I had to learn a lot of new languages, and I luckily turned out to be pretty good at picking up on them."
"Wow, that's really cool," you chuckled. A talent you definitely envied. And it seemed like Ten had made the decision to pursue this future of his on his own. You wished you could say the same.
From the counter of the café, you heard one of the workers call out your order number for cinnamon rolls, fresh from the oven.
You began to slip off your stool, and Ten spoke up, "Oh, I can totally go get those."
"It's no problem," you chirped, "I'm already down anyway." You were swift to scurry over to the counter and pick up your table's tray of cinnamon rolls with a smile at the worker in deep gratitude. The thick, warm sweetness wafted into your nose, and you inhaled the delights with a blissful grin.
However, as you turned to head back to the table, you halted abruptly, nearly knocking the plates on the tray into each other.
There, standing next to your table and chatting with Ten, were Ji Changmin and Choi Chanhee.
Great.
The sweet dessert smell soured and tasted like acid on your tongue. Bitter, like the taste of hot coffee straight from the pot. You schooled your face into neutrality, but there was no way all of the uncomfortableness could stay away.
You made your way over; the tray was getting heavy.
"—actually here with Yn, Mark, and Yeri—" Ten was pointing your way and you had to control your urge to hide.
Changmin and Chanhee's heads turned in sync, but only Changmin's eyes narrowed at the sight of you. You returned the expression wholeheartedly.
Chanhee held his breath, muttering a "Yikes" under his breath, while Ten observed the interaction with slightly parted lips. Huh.
"Ji."
"Ln."
You deposited the tray onto the table and your biceps sighed in relief. Those four cinnamon rolls truly were quite hefty on their own.
You could still feel Changmin’s eyes on you as you slid onto the stool across from Ten. “Something you’d like to say to me?” You addressed him with ill-suppressed snark.
Changmin’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing that you’ll take into importance anyway. Just didn’t think you would ever hang out with someone from the dance department.”
“Ten’s got a life outside of dance, Changmin,” you replied. You flashed him a thin-lipped smile. “He gets it.”
“And you’re so much better than me for having a so-called life,” he rolled his eyes. “You know, some people are just really passionate about dance—something you seem to still not understand.”
“I really don’t think you want me to bring up the trove of things you don’t understand—”
Chanhee subtly moved over to Ten’s side as the two of them observed the sparring match between you and Changmin. A sigh fell from his lips, and his eyebrows raised up all the way to his pink-dyed hairline.
Ten had taken one of the plates of cinnamon buns in front of him, silently offering Chanhee some. The latter refused, and Ten began to peel away one of the sultry, sweet dough layers. “Is this… normal?” He asked Chanhee under his breath, motioning to the still-bickering couple across from them.
Chanhee snorted. “It’s their mating call.”
It seemed he had said those four words loud enough to catch yours and Changmin’s attention. A miracle, indeed.
“Ew,” both you and Changmin immediately grimaced at Chanhee. Then you looked at one another with a greater degree of disgust. “Stop copying me!”
…Or, less so a miracle, but rather, a tragedy.
Chanhee let out a haggard sigh, eyes sullen to a deadpan. “One of the few things the two of you will ever agree on.”
“The last thing we’ll ever agree on,” Changmin grumbled as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “C’mon Chanhee. We should probably order before JC!Yn and Kei finish loading up the car.”
Changmin was already making his way over to the cashier when Ten managed to get in a final question, “Are you guys coming to the NCT-RVE homecoming tonight?”
“Sure—”
“No.”
Chanhee sent Ten an apologetic look for Changmin’s brusque answer. “Sorry about him. We were thinking of it, but he might be practicing with Juyeon tonight. See you later, Ten—and Yn!” He chased after Changmin, ambushing his friend by practically leaping onto his back and then smacking his shoulder.
Now that Changmin was away from you, the red in your vision had begun to clear away, and you finally remembered the set of delicious cinnamon rolls waiting for you.
Ten propped his cheek against his fist. “So… you and Changmin…”
You made a sour face as you cut off a slice of your cinnamon roll. “What about the gremlin?” You asked. As soon as the buttery, sweet delight hit your tongue, you felt your body lighten and you did a little happy dance in your seat.
Ten chuckled at your behavior. “Lovers gone wrong?”
You choked on the bite.
Your new friend’s eyes widened comically to the size of saucers as he literally pounced across the table to pat your back. “Shit—sorry, Yn. I probably should’ve waited for you to finish swallowing, huh?” He winced when you’d managed to breathe correctly and washed the bite of food down with a sip of coffee. He returned to his perch, letting you recover while he talked through his thoughts. “I don’t mean to pry—actually—” he paused, reconsidering, “—I do mean to pry. Sorry, I’m kind of a sucker for this kind of stuff.”
One of your eyes squinted at him as you massaged your throat. “Yeah, I kind of figured.”
He beamed at you boyishly, the kind of expression that almost had your defenses slipping. Almost. Ten was one slippery fellow. For some reason, you kind of respected him for being upfront about the nosiness, and if you were being honest, if this drama wasn’t yours, you would also be curious about the whole thing.
“Can’t help myself sometimes,” he confessed with a mere shrug. “You don’t owe an explanation or backstory, of course.”
You sucked in a breath, opting to hold back on eating your pastry until you and Ten were done with this topic. “I’m just going to say that Changmin and I were not ‘lovers gone wrong’,” you said, body shuddering.
“Mm,” he hummed. His eyes wandered behind you and over your head, swiftly followed by the action of waving to Changmin and Chanhee on their way out of the cafe. “It’s just interesting to me. Didn’t you just advocate for him the other night at the draft show?”
That rang a bell, unfortunately. “It’s complicated.”
Ten pressed his mouth into a saccharine smile. “I can imagine.”
EPISODE THREE: OFF THE PHONE
THERE was an avid knocking at the laboratory door, usually done by those who didn’t actually work at this specific lab. This lab area was usually reserved for upperclassmen and graduate students and their work.
“Yn-ie, could you get the door, please?” You heard Kun called out to you from his office. It wasn’t just the two of you tonight, but rather, just a few others you didn’t know as well as you did Kun. He often worked late hours like you did, always overworking himself even more as a fresh grad student. You, on the other hand, were trying to finish up this one research paper resulting from last quarter’s research project. If you were lucky, you would be able to send it off to be peer reviewed soon.
You slipped out from behind your workbench and maneuvered the maze of workbenches to head out into the corridor. Exhaustion wore at your bones from having such a long day, but you really did need to get some productive work done so you could focus specifically on your midterms approaching at the end of this week and the beginning of the following week.
However, as you turned the corner into the corridor, you nearly missed your footing. At the end of the hallway where the glass door to the outside was, you found yourself identifying one Ji Changmin and his friend, someone you didn’t recognize. The latter wore a gray hoodie beneath a black puffer vest, and he reacted the opposite to how Changmin did when they caught sight of you.
“Hey! Could you open the door, please?” Not-Changmin hollered through the glass, furiously shaking his sweater-pawed hand down at the door handle.
You didn’t want to. God, you really didn’t want to.
Changmin stared you down, as if daring you to come closer.
You opened the door, and let the cool gust of late February air and two outsiders into the safety and warmth of the laboratory building.
Hoodie Guy shuddered violently to get the cold out of his system. “Jesus, it’s cold outside. Thanks,” he said to you. Then he nudged Changmin with his elbow, as if jolting the man into reality.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, words directed toward Changmin in particular.
His dark bangs were tucked beneath a black beanie with his pair of black headphones hanging around his neck. “You think I want to be here?”
His friend sent him a look, his eyes flickering between you and Changmin furiously until the pieces clicked into his mind. “Well, uh oh…” he muttered while turning away slightly to scratch his head. He gathered his wits then. “Uh, Yn, right?”
You perked up. “Yes.”
“Uh,” he drawled. “We’re actually here for Jacob Bae. You see, we told him we’d come pick him up to take him over to—”
“Is he here?” Changmin asked.
Your eyebrow shot upward. At least they were here for a proper reason. You crossed your arms over your chest, glancing back toward the main laboratory floor way down the hall. Man, the safe zone felt so far away. “He actually just left like, ten minutes ago. Sorry.” The apology was said to Changmin’s friend, the one who seemed to have been able to figure out who exactly you were to Changmin. Not that you were anything to him. And did Changmin just talk about you to all his friends or something—?
“Oh.”
Changmin tapped his friend with the back of his hand. “C’mon Sunwoo. We’ll just meet him over there.”
Sunwoo wrinkled his nose. “I just think it’s weird that he didn’t text us to let us know before we came over here.”
There was a pause and you could practically see the gears in Changmin’s head turning. You would have left them to their own company, but you technically weren’t allowed to leave unauthorized students alone.
It was strange seeing Changmin break into something akin to sheepishness. You saw the dimples appear in the apples of his cheeks as he cupped the back of his neck. “I might not have told him we were coming…”
Sunwoo’s eyes and mouth widened and he whacked his friend with the length of his hoodie sleeve. Changmin let out one of those hyena laughs that set off triggers in your mind. It’d been awhile since you heard that… “Hyung! You’re so unreliable sometimes, oh my god. Even Eric would have remembered to tell him!”
Changmin made a noise of dismissal, slinging an arm around his friend. “Ah, it’s fine. We’ll just meet him there—as you said.”
“Worst texter award goes to,” Sunwoo rolled his eyes.
“I guess some things never change.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and both Sunwoo and Changmin suddenly remembered that you were in the hallway with them. Sunwoo had perked up as if he were surprised you would even comment on their situation, but Changmin cut an unreadable expression your way. You didn’t want to read into it.
“You literally forgot to answer a text I sent for three days,” Changmin quipped.
Well, if he was going to play the back and forth game. “That was once out of how many other times,” you scoffed. “You refused to answer anyone’s texts in the mornings anyway, so don't get on my case about that.”
“He did that to you, too?!” Sunwoo cut in with fire behind his words.
You could’ve sworn you saw the slightest bit of blush grace Changmin’s cheekbones as you hid a laugh behind your hand. “He did that to everyone—”
“Hey, I’m better over call; you know that!” Changmin argued. “Sunwoo, you can’t even talk about being a bad texter. I have to hunt for you on discord sometimes to get a straight answer.”
Sunwoo groaned, “Yah! Whatever. It’s still better than your average three-business-day reply speed.”
Changmin stammered, “It is not an average of three business days.” If your ears were not deceiving you, Ji Changmin was whining. “It’s a couple hours at least.”
“A couple hours means half a day,” you said to Sunwoo.
Changmin whipped his attention back to you, finger jabbed accusingly in your direction. “Hey, missy! You always fell asleep on-call, even when you promised that you would stay up to help me study.”
You shook your head. “Not my fault! You know that I always fell asleep around midnight back then.”
“Well, back then—”
“Is everything okay out here?”
Everything in the corridor came to a stand still, and Changmin closed his mouth, mid-sentence. Kun had his head poking out of the door to the main floor, a crease pressed between his brows and right above the rim of his thin spectacles. He eyed the two non-laboratory students with a slight grimace. Of course, Kun was aware of who Changmin was. He could recognize him because of his famed performer reputation on campus, but he knew his history with you because you had spent far too many late nights here at the lab with things plaguing your mind. You and Kun both had a problem with trouble sleeping and being workaholics.
You turned slightly to Kun. “Yeah, everything’s okay, Kun-ge.”
He sent you an unimpressed look.
“We,” Changmin piped up as he urged Sunwoo to the door, “were just leaving.” The mirth and fire from the bickering just a few seconds ago had faded, and you could feel him slipping away.
Kun drummed his fingers along the doorframe, eyebrows shooting up for a second. “Oh-kay… Yn-ie, Ten says he’s right around the corner and asks if you want some company walking home.”
The door to the laboratory behind you was held open, and the night breeze brushed through your hair. When you looked back, you saw that Changmin had stalled in the door for a second. But, it had only been that second before he and his friend were gone.
“Oh.” You made your way over to Kun. “That’s really cool of him. I’d love that.” Some company on a late-night walk back to your apartment did not sound bad at all. You’d done plenty of trips on your own, but sometimes having even one person with you would have been nice.
Kun nodded, pursing his lips, as the two of you walked into the main lab together and toward his office off to the side. “Okay, I’ll let him know. You’re for sure okay though? That must have been… not nice, seeing Changmin here.”
You gave a stiff shrug, your hip leaning against the door of his office while Kun settled back at his desk. “It’s fine,” you said. To be honest, you weren’t even sure if that was a lie or not. You’d heard Changmin laugh for the first time in years. You’d seen the dimples in his cheeks, the sheepishness in his expression—you swallowed.
Once upon a time, you associated all of those things with something like happiness. Your happiness.
Kun fixed you with a pointed look. “If you need to talk.”
You gave a firm nod. “I know where to find you.”
He clicked his tongue, shooting you a finger gun, then shooed you off to finish your work and pack your things. Ten was just around the corner, after all.
EPISODE FOUR: OFF THE RECORD
CHANGMIN liked to think that he became nosy, and that he wasn't born this way. But ever since he overheard that Kun guy asking about Ten wanting to walk you home, he couldn't help but wonder…
He shook his head, brushing his hair out of his eyes and off his forehead, before those same bangs flopped back into their place. He walked back onto the main stage of the performing arts hall to the soundtrack of a hype playlist blasting from the ears of his headphones. As he made his way past groups and individuals doing their own thing, he absentmindedly searched for one person in particular.
Conveniently, he found Ten setting himself up right by Changmin's things. He was shouldering off his black puffer jacket, rolling the material up into a manageable ball to shove into his duffle bag.
"Hey," Changmin greeted, bending down slightly to grab his water bottle.
Ten straightened and flashed him a smile. "Hey."
It wouldn't be awkward would it? Probably not. Just be cool about it, Changmin. He smiled slightly, the dimples in his cheeks disarming his acquaintance. "I didn't know you and Yn were close."
Your name felt so… foreign, yet familiar, on his tongue. It was like tasting déjà vu, like eating a treat from childhood that had been associated with good feelings, but he couldn't decide if it was still as good as he remembered or a trick of his mind.
The mention of your name brought a jolt of energy to Ten's body and Changmin saw the man lean into the conversation. Curious… "Oh? Well, I mean—" he gave a shrug, "—she's really cool. She just seems like a good person to get to know, y'know? Why do you ask?"
Changmin couldn't tell how much he trusted the slight narrowing of Ten's feline eyes. There was no way you hadn't mentioned him to Ten at some point or another. To be honest, he didn't like the feeling of you still lingering in his head if he didn't linger in yours. It meant a myriad of things that he loathed to admit.
He let the feeling slide away, let his mouth tilt upward like his eyes to the spotlights in the ceiling. "Just be…" He shook his head. "Nothing. It's nothing." He flicked his wrist, as he spun his water bottle cap on tight. "You can forget about it."
Ten sent him a look that Changmin pointedly ignored.
Somewhere within the depths of the performing arts center, Changmin could hear the howling laughter of his friend Hyunjae as he most likely bugged his best friend out of her mind, both to her chagrin and her delight. That was another can of worms entirely.
Ten piped up as he settled onto the backstage floor while Changmin mentally went through some of the problem sets he had to review today. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you and Yn on such… uneven ground with each other?"
There it was. Changmin snorted. "Uneven ground? I don't even know if we're on the same ground."
"You're both really friendly people," Ten added, "so it just doesn't make sense to me."
Changmin pursed his lips. He never felt the need to divulge this stuff to anyone but his friends, but he didn't know what Ten already knew. He didn't know what you told him, but based on the fact that Ten wasn't looking at him the same way you did… Changmin scratched the back of his head and leaned his side against the wall to face him. "Something happened a long time ago. I guess we just both hold a grudge well."
Ten huffed a laugh in response. "Remind me never to get on your bad side then," he joked.
— ✶
There was a buzz about the university newspaper room. The Daily had only a handful of crew members onboard, mainly because it was so selective. Over the past few years that you had been apart of the staff, you and a few others had gradually loosened the reputation of the Daily's elitist interview process—there was still some level of intimidation that ensured the publication took on the hard workers and not those simply looking for an extracurricular to put on their resume though.
So when there was talk of a new staff member, everyone knew about it.
You let yourself in the door with a sigh, brushing the hair from your eyes held up with a random, blue claw clip you found on your bathroom sink. The bus had been late this morning because it broke down, but you luckily were able to make it to your lecture on time. You had run over here for a quick meeting that Kim Doyoung had summoned you for, no doubt about the new hire.
"Hey guys," you said as you passed by clusters of desks piled with copyedits and heads buried in monitor screens. The sounds of typing stopped briefly with each head you walked past:
"Yn!"
"Hi Yn!"
"Sup Yn—HEY! I just did my hair this morning!" Mark yelped, hands smoothing down the braids in his hair.
You giggled as you patted his head. "Your hair needs a break, Mark."
As you disappeared around the corner, you heard him shout back, "So do you, but you never hear me complaining!"
You rolled your eyes with an ill-concealed smile. The door to Doyoung's little editor in chief office was right down the hall next to the office for the sponsoring professor. As much as you and the others teased him about getting the "Boss man" office, he always complained to you about being on edge with the professor's office next door. You didn't quite understand since Professor Woo was almost never in his office anyway, but you supposed you could see.
Doyoung's door was open, and the fourth year's head perked up at the sound of your voice and nearing footsteps. He didn't even wait for you to knock or say hi, before beckoning you inside. "Yn, thank god you know how to hustle. Close the door on your way in. Thanks."
Your eyebrows shot up at the terseness in his tone, but didn't question him until you'd closed the door and settled into the chair opposite him. His desk, much like those outside, was covered in a sea of paper, with his laptop being the only land in sight. "What's up? You sound stressed."
He shot you a look over the rims of his thin glasses. "When am I not stressed?"
"Valid."
"Okay," he began with a sigh that made your concern rise just a bit more, "you know the situation with our performing arts review section, right?"
You nodded. "Of course."
The situation with the performing arts review section of the paper was inherently a mess. For a handful of years, the performing arts section was written under a pseudonym (lovingly dubbed Opera Glasses)—the identity of the reviewer was anonymous—which was a product of an incident a few years ago where a performer was unhappy with a review left by someone on the paper and came to ask, very unkindly, for a rewrite. Since then, the paper had been swallowed up by so much that finding a permanent writer or reviewer for the section became less and less of a priority.
When you joined the publishing team, it had been in the middle of freshman year when you were also putting your application out for research projects. Joining had felt like the right thing to do, as much as it was an act of rebellion against your mother and your childhood. They had asked if you knew anything about dance of all things.
And well, you did know.
You'd written one piece—one piece that was entirely you. It had been for one of the dancers just debuting at his first winter showcase. Since then, you couldn't stomach writing another one or watching another one.
You ghost wrote, you edited, you advised—but you stuck to putting your energy into covering the STEM-related sections of the paper now.
So Doyoung already knew your relationship with the performing arts review section. "Well," he cleared his throat, making a vague flourish with his hand, "I'm sure you already know that I just interviewed a new prospective recruit. I was wondering if you would be willing to take them under your wing and to show them the ropes."
Oh. That wasn't exactly what you expected him to say. Your heart kicked up for an entirely new reason, however. You'd always wanted to be someone's mentor. To be someone's older sister. "I mean, yeah. I'd love to," you stammered, a smile slowly curling onto your lips. "That would be really cool."
Doyoung sighed, his shoulders sinking in relief. "Thank you."
"But wait." You cocked your head to the side as you asked, "What does Opera Glasses have to do with this?"
"I want her to eventually take over for it," he explained. "She knows quite a bit about theater and music—little less about dance, though. I know that you have your issues with the dance department, but out of everyone here, you probably understand dance stuff the most. I just ask that you help her out a little with that, and maybe even introduce her to some of the people there so we can ease her in with interviews—"
You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he sent you a pointed look. He continued, "Just hear me out, okay? If you're uncomfortable at all, you can back out. And you don't even have to back out right now or completely; maybe you could have Mark introduce her to Jungwoo for interviews, and you can just stick to the behind-the-scenes stuff."
Doyoung exhaled. "Okay, so what are your thoughts?"
You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. What did you think… What did you think?
Even the thought of stepping foot into a practice room made the yelling and screams echo in the caverns of your mind. But you'd missed them—missed the polished wood floors, the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the people. God, you couldn't even stay away from the people if you tried, no matter how much you tried convincing yourself you could.
You weren't fooling anyone.
You swallowed. You'd always wanted to be a big sister.
What was the harm in giving this a try?
(Changmin. You'd probably run into Changmin a lot more often than if you didn't accept. But you could see him from that one night: the sheepishness, the dimples, the laugh. Why couldn't you get over that interaction?)
You mustered up your courage and straightened in your seat. "I'll still do it. When do we start?"
EPISODE FIVE: OFF THE MARK
IT turned out that Doyoung intended for you and your new recruit, Bae Sumin, to get started right away. With the winter showcase only a couple weeks away, it was imperative that the two of you dived right in.
"—so what made you interested in joining the team?" You asked, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets to hide signs of nervousness from your underclassman peer. The two of you were walking from the Daily's newsroom and over to the performing arts center. It was about a ten minute walk, but you figured that it would give you two the opportunity to get to know one another.
Sumin was a multimedia major, as you had been told earlier when the two of you just met for the first time in the entryway of the Daily newsroom. She was cute and well-dressed—she wore a pleated skirt and sweater with a white collar peeking through. Her smile was dazzling, and reminded you of someone who would do well on stage. No wonder she had theater and performing experience.
"Oh!" She shot you one of those dazzling smiles, her hand shooting up to shift the white, fluffy earmuffs seated over her head. "I actually had a cousin who came here and shared with me some of the Daily's earlier issues. She always said it was kind of competitive to get in, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try."
You bobbed your head. "That's really cool." A small laugh fell from your lips, "I'm glad you did try! Lots of people just assume they're gonna get turned away and they don't try at all, you know?"
Sumin hummed in understanding.
Something had settled nicely in your chest throughout this walk. Even if your past anxieties were beginning to bubble up to the surface at the sight of the nearing performing arts buildings, Sumin's easy conversation calmed you. It was one less thing to worry about.
Yesterday, when Doyoung had proposed this job for you, you had asked Mark to accompany you and Sumin to the arts buildings. He couldn't walk with you two, but he promised to meet you there. Now, you were kind of glad you got to have this bit of bonding time with her.
“I think Doyoung said that I should introduce you to a few people in particular,” you said offhandedly and pulled your phone out to check yours and Doyoung’s text thread.
Sumin did the same, most likely taking out any notes she had taken from Doyoung’s instructions. “Yeah, something like Lee Minho, Kim Jungwoo… the Hwang?—the Hwang siblings, uhm and Ji Changmin…?”
Your footing faltered for a second, and Sumin asked if you were all right, but you recovered quickly. You let out an embarrassed laugh, feeling heat crawl up your neck. Why in the world did his name catch you off guard like that? Maybe it was because you assumed Doyoung would just let you avoid Changmin, but realistically, if Sumin was going to do an interview with the dance department’s most prominent members, then there was no avoiding Changmin.
You just had to suck it up and be an adult about it.
It was three years ago… What was the big deal?
But as you moved to open the door to the backstage area for Sumin with your ID card, you felt your throat tighten in on itself. You forced a smile to your face as you let Sumin go in before you so you could turn your head out to inhale a large lungful of fresh air. Then, you ducked in after her.
The backstage corridors were as hustle n' bustle as you expected them to be. The lights were dim-looking from the black walls and floors marred with scuff marks from years upon years of use. It was an overwhelming tidal wave of sensory details—what, with the clashing sounds of chatter and music, the smell of some kind of polish (or maybe that was resin?), the warmth of energy in the air and all around you.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood like you could sense someone was coming this way.
You gestured down the opposite direction to Sumin. “Come on; I’m pretty sure they’re down this way.”
It was a curious thing, memory. You could recall late nights of catching the bus to these very practice rooms and backstage rooms from when you were in high school. Performing on the stage was a whole other experience in itself, and though part of you missed it, there were other feelings that dominated the hints of nostalgia now.
You could hear the chatter even clearer now, even if their words were muddled.
The door to one of the larger practice rooms were left ajar, and though you only peered in, you felt the warmth hit you like a wave. Your throat was closing up again—breathe—
“Hey,” you said into the room, catching quite a few eyes. From an initial scan, you determined that Changmin wasn’t amongst the crush of people socializing in here, and you couldn’t identify the feeling manifesting in the pit of your stomach.
Jungwoo was the first to bound over toward you, swiftly followed by Minho and Hyunjin, one of the Hwang siblings. “Yn-ie! I can’t believe you actually came. I thought Doyoung was joking.”
A smile made its way onto your lips and you accepted Jungwoo’s side hug. “Yeah, well Doyoung doesn’t joke around.”
“He really doesn’t,” Hyunjin said with a grimace. “He’s kind of scary, that one.”
“If you can survive Minho,” you said to him, “then you can survive Doyoung.”
Minho made a face at you. “What have I ever done to you, Yn?”
Nothing; this is just me trying to pretend I’m not seconds away from quivering like a leaf in the wind. You laughed. “Nothing yet. Guys, I'd like you to meet Sumin. She’s our new recruit at the Daily, and she’s gonna be the one conducting interviews for the winter showcase this year.”
Sumin didn’t need much prompting to smile and wave at your friends in that same charming way. “Hi, nice to meet you!”
The three dancers before you replied in kind. Jungwoo offered to introduce her to some of the others in the room, and before you knew it, she was swept away.
Hyunjin made a comment about needing to go check up on a friend of his, leaving you and Minho chatting to the side of the room.
“Wow,” Minho said offhandedly as the two of you watched Jungwoo and Sumin work their way around the room, “she’s a natural at this. Where’d Kim find this one?”
“She saw some of our older issues,” you replied. You watched as Sumin ignited a sort of brightness in every conversation she started. You struggled to swallow; now that you didn’t feel obligated to keep up appearances, especially in front of Sumin, your jitteriness was beginning to come on just a little stronger. You absentmindedly massaged your throat, willing it to loosen up.
Minho glanced over at you, his eyes catching your anxious actions. “Must have a lot of confidence in her if he’s throwing her straight into taking charge of interviews. How’re you holding up?” The latter was said lowly and under his breath in case someone just happened to be close enough to catch onto your conversation.
Minho didn’t know your history with the dance department as thoroughly as your close friends did, but it didn’t take a genius to see that you weren’t at your absolute best right now. You gave a stiff shrug. “I’m alright,” you managed to say.
He nodded, though it was probably more for your sake than him saying he believed you. “It’s funny,” he drawled, “one might think that by sending you here on behalf of the paper, that you were behind Opera Glasses.”
Now that, you could let out a genuine chuckle at.
Minho gauged your reaction but smiled to himself. He wasn’t one to really care for the drama and gossip side that came privy to the performing arts review section, but you couldn’t blame him if he was curious.
“That would be really stupid if that was the case,” you mused.
“It would be,” he agreed. “Is this a sign that this will be the end of Opera Glasses then? Finally a face to the name?”
You pursed your lips. “Actually, I’m not too sure what Doyoung will end up doing. I’m sure he’ll call for a board meeting to decide what the review’s fate will be, but it’s not exactly our top priority—”
Your voice and words trailed off as your eyes met a pair coming into the practice room. You and Changmin froze at the sight of one another, two deer caught in headlights, and you felt your heart palpitate violently in your chest. Your breath left your lungs—his expression was filled with surprise, until it morphed into something you couldn’t read.
“What are you doing here?” He deadpanned.
Minho’s eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t know Yn was stopping by? We all got the email from Director Lee, man.”
Changmin pressed his mouth together and it made the dimple in his cheek deepen. He looked you up and down, and he opened his mouth to say something else, but paused when you unconsciously brushed your thumb against the hollow of your throat. (Dear god, why couldn’t you breathe? Breathe, breathe, breathe—)
He seemed to lose whatever he was going to say. You swore the sharpness in his gaze softened.
But then his jaw tightened; you didn’t know why. “I didn’t think you’d actually show,” he muttered under his breath.
Ouch.
The words from his mouth pricked uncomfortably at the back of your mind. You found your voice again. “I’ll be gone before you know it,” you replied tersely.
Your response touched a nerve for him, too. He cut his attention to the rest of the practice room. “Where’s your new girl?”
“Over there,” you said, inclining your head across the room where Sumin and Hwang Yeji were currently swapping contact information. Something soared in your chest at the sight, but you couldn’t tell if it was pride or envy.
Without any additional prompting, you watched Changmin make his way toward Sumin and away from you. You didn’t realize you were holding in a breath until you finally exhaled—
“Yn! Sorry I’m late.” Mark bumbled into the practice room, wiping a drop of sweat from his forehead as he quite literally crashed against the wall next to you and Minho. He was panting and gasping for breath, and you and Minho couldn’t help but express your amusement.
“It’s all cool, dude,” you assured while patting his head.
“I should probably get back to it,” Minho said as he began walking away from you and Mark. “Nice to see you, Mark. Feel free to take a water bottle from the green room.”
Mark thumped his head against the wall with his eyes closed. “Thanks, man,” he huffed.
With a snicker under his breath, Minho went his separate way.
You gave Mark a moment to catch a breath or two, and you slid down next to him against the practice room wall. Folding your knees up against your chest, you copied Mark’s position with his head tilted back as you both inhaled through your nostrils and breathed out through slightly parted lips. While Mark might have been trying to get a moment of rest from (no doubt) running here from the bus stop, you were trying to steady yourself.
The anxiety was starting to make your hands feel numb cold.
“You don’t have to stay, y’know,” came Mark’s voice, followed by the back of his hand gently nudging your arm. When your eyes fluttered open, you found him already looking at you. “You asked for my help; you can go take a breather outside and come back in—or maybe don’t—whatever you’re comfortable with. This can’t be easy.”
You were struggling to swallow again. One of your hands drummed messily against your kneecap. “It’s—” you shook your head, “—I’ll be okay. Thanks for coming though.”
“Yeah, dude. Of course.”
Something prodded at the side of your head, like someone was staring at you, but when you turned to see, it was just Changmin talking to Sumin. They were both smiling and making good conversation, it seemed.
You let out a sigh and closed your eyes again. Wishful thinking.
— ✶
Mark stayed behind to “vibe” with the remaining dancers still at the performing arts building while you and Sumin pushed out into the crisp, cool evening. Even after walking all the way to the bus station, your hands were still numb, and the cold definitely wasn’t helping.
“How do you feel about the dance interviews now?” You found yourself asking Sumin as the two of you sat on the bench at the station waiting for the bus to come pick the two of you up.
Sumin beamed. “I definitely feel a bit more secure about conducting them. I’ll definitely need some help with dance terminology and editing and stuff though.”
You nodded. “No problem at all.”
“The people are all really so chill and nice…” Your eyes definitely weren’t tricking you when you saw the bashfulness that her expression took on, and the little giggle you heard could not have been the wind. “Especially Changmin.”
Ha. What.
A weight fell to the pit of your stomach. Maybe you were hearing things… “Sorry?”
She blinked, and the blush on her cheekbones darkened. “Oh, haha, it’s nothing! I just… he was really sweet, and he has a really pretty smile and stuff—do you—uh, do you know if his previous dance showcase performances are online?”
(Something about that detail—he has a really pretty smile—rang a bell for you.)
It was really an innocent question, but you knew if Sumin went searching online for Changmin, and if she went deep enough, she’d find you there, too. You sucked in a breath. “I can—” you winced inwardly, “—send you some of his performances, if you want?”
You couldn’t deny the warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest when Sumin practically lit up at your suggestion. “Would you? I would really appreciate it, Yn! You’re the best.”
From your periphery, you saw the bus approach from down the street, and you gestured for the both of you to stand up and get your ID cards ready to board. You sent her a small smile—at least it felt good to help her out. You could pretend for a second that this was just a little crush or infatuation on some other colleague of yours that Sumin had. “Yeah, no worries.” No worries at all.
EPISODE SIX: OFF THE [TOP OF YOUR] HEAD
FRIDAY night brought you, Seungkwan, and Doyoung to the hotpot place located in the university district. The three of you were the unconventional combination of your friends, but Kun and Ten were supposedly on their way over as of five minutes ago. Thus, with the last of your party nearing, the three of you deigned to begin ordering almost everything off the menu—just to whet your appetites, of course.
Doyoung slumped down in his seat across from you and Seungkwan as soon as the waiter left to input your table's hefty order. "Ugggggggh."
Seungkwan snorted. "Ah, my favorite sound."
Doyoung passed him a dirty look over his lenses. "Is that sarcasm I hear, Boo Seungkwan?"
"I have no idea what you mean," he said with feigned innocence as he looked away and scratched the side of his head.
You chuckled to yourself, drawing your phone out from the inner pocket of your puffer jacket when you heard the series of buzzes. Your screen lit up with notifications from Sumin, all of them thanking you profusely for the spam of links you'd sent her way. These were on top of the videos you had dug up from your secret locked folder in your phone—and here you were, wondering why in the world you were doing this to yourself and for her?
"I can't decide if I dread Doyoung's noises of discontent or your expressions of pain more," Seungkwan commented, effectively pulling your focus away from your phone.
Both of your friends were now looking at you, patiently awaiting your answer to what ailed you tonight. Where should you begin?
"I'm not in pain," you scoffed. You set your phone facedown on the table next to you to avoid looking at the notifications. Huh. "Did I look like I was in pain?"
Doyoung's smile was wide like his eyes as he nodded. "Yup," he chirped in that sweet sarcasm of his. "Like you'd just watched a video of someone stubbing their toe against a doorframe."
Seungkwan blinked. "That's so—specific."
"You do not want to know what my For You Page looks like—"
You recreated the look of pain from earlier, holding your palm up. "Respectfully, Doie? I don't."
Seungkwan let out another snort of delight and had to hold a hand in front of his mouth.
Doyoung leveled a half-hearted scowl at you. "You're lucky I'm not your boss right now."
"As opposed to every other moment in time?"
"You have a mouth on you tonight."
"I do like to use it every so often," you quipped, the corner of your mouth lifting in an amused smirk.
Doyoung sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't get paid enough for this."
"You're literally not getting paid at all—" Your words were sliced off at their end when you gasped—it was all a blur: a mass of reddish-brown hair, your phone snatched from right in front of you— "SEUNGKWAN!"
Seungkwan held his breath with an impish grin as he turned his back to you and shielded your phone from your attempts to get it back. "I just wanna see!" He said with a cackle. "Every time you've looked at your phone today, you looked like you wanted to fall into an abyss."
You glared at him, pulling away to cross your arms firmly over your chest. "You can't just steal my phone, dude!"
"What's so important on your phone anyway, Yn-ie?" Doyoung asked good naturedly, reaching for his glass of ice water. "You're usually not so attached to that thing."
Your lips snapped shut and you wondered if the heat creeping up to your face was obvious.
"You've been sending Changmin videos to Sumin?!" Seungkwan bursted out, his eyes so wide that you could see your reflection in his pupils. As you'd feared, Seungkwan still had his fingerprint registered into your phone from before (long story; don't ask), and had cracked the device open, as well as your most recently opened application—yours and Sumin's text messages.
You did nothing but stare at the table like you were getting war flashbacks, while Doyoung had even gotten up out of his seat to take a peek at your phone, too.
"I haven't even seen this video before," Seungkwan hissed as if you weren't right there.
You fixed them both with a stink eye, but at the same time, maybe this was for your benefit. They could help you without you actually asking for help—
Doyoung's face contorted into a laughable expression of shock (eyes wide, mouth wider, eyebrows pinched, nose wrinkled) as he viewed what Seungkwan had selected. "Oh my god. He's a child in this!"
"Actually he was a senior in high school—" You slapped a hand over your mouth. Whoops.
Both of their heads whipped over toward you. "I thought you deleted all your high school shit!" They chorused together. If it had been any other situation or context, you might have laughed at the hilarity if it all.
Instead, you averted your gaze, making a show of looking for the waiter or maybe even Kun or Ten. What was taking them so long anyway?
"Yn," Seungkwan addressed with a tone akin to that of a parent on the verge of lecturing their child, "what in the name of god are you sending Sumin and why?"
Helpless, you held both your palms up in a sheepish shrug. "The kid has a crush on him, and being the best mentor figure ever, I… did some compiling for her." You paused, "Now that I say it out loud, it does sound pretty stupid."
Doyoung returned to his seat. "Ya think?"
You wrinkled your nose at him. "Hey! Sometimes, some of us have bad nights and we wanna feel something." Out of context, this was a really suspicious conversation.
"Isn't this just you torturing yourself?"
Seungkwan slapped his hand against the table, and both you and Doyoung startled. "That's it! I'm calling for an intervention."
Your mouth parted open. "Right now?"
He deadpanned at you. "No, when Kun and Ten get here—of course, right now!"
You returned his deadpan expression. The adrenaline from all this back and forth was slowly fading, and what you were left with was something that felt like emptiness. So… now they knew.
Doyoung and Seungkwan exchanged looks with another from across the table, but it was the former who spoke first. "Why do you still have videos from back then, Yn-ie? I thought you told us you deleted them all?"
"I mean, we're not trying to be judgmental or anything," Seungkwan added firmly, but not unkindly, "they're your videos and photos, your past and memories, but… based on everything you've already told us before, wouldn't it be best to delete them?"
You didn't like the emptiness. The adrenaline had stripped you of energy and confidence when it faded. "I," you stammered, "I just… I couldn't bring myself to delete them." Your voice was quiet, almost inaudible compared to the liveliness of the hotpot shop around you and your friends. "I mean, how could I? Sometimes, I want to watch them and try to find the courage to say that I'm sorry first."
Yeah, you wanted to feel something. That "something" was actually a lot of things—courage, happiness, nostalgia, anger, melancholy, love, passion, pride. A life and childhood you had lost; who's fault was it but your own? You felt nothing short of pathetic.
Seungkwan frowned deeply, his eyes softening. He leaned forward and drew you into his embrace, his hold warm and comforting. "Oh, Yn. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have pried like that."
You wrapped your arms around him, eyes shuddering closed. "Yeah, you shouldn't have."
He grunted into your shoulder, a noise of defiance and attitude.
Doyoung had a similar expression of sympathy present on his face. You didn't often see something like that from him, but after years of friendship and working together, you'd begun to see a lot more of him. "I'm sorry too, Yn. It probably still hurts, and I know I was probably really insensitive when I asked you to introduce Sumin to the dance department—"
"Hey guys! Sorry we're late."
Everyone jolted at the sight of Kun and Ten arriving at your table. Kun sent Ten a sharp look along with a sharp jab with his elbow for interrupting. Kun shot you an apologetic look. "Sorry, we didn't interrupt anything, did we?"
You shook your head as Seungkwan pulled away. Doyoung and Seungkwan were both looking to you to make the decision of whether or not you would let Kun and Ten in on the prior conversation.
No, you didn't want to put a damper on dinner any longer. "Ah, no worries. We were just… discussing a couple work things. What took you guys so long?"
Luckily, no one (namely Ten) called you out and the two newcomers slid into their respective seats. Dinner would arrive soon, and you could fill your belly with something other than negative thoughts for once.
— ✶
boss bunny: hey, i didn't get a chance to say this earlier, but i'm so sorry for expecting u to introduce sumin to the dance dept
boss bunny: i didn't think at all abt how that might trigger u, and i still want u to know that u can back out whenever u feel uncomfortable. seriously.
your phone: it's okay, doyoung. i get it, i really do. and i promise that it didn't feel like u were forcing me or assuming that i would do it either
your phone: i knew it would probably trigger me like this too, but i kind of really wanted to be someone's mentor yk? it just… called to me ig
your phone: sounds kind of sad lol
boss bunny: nonono! not at all :( i understand that too
boss bunny: i admire ur strength, yn
your phone: DOIE 🥺
boss bunny: …okay love u and all, but let's not use that emoji yeah? T-T
your phone: okay wtv 🤧 now stop texting cuz ten is starting to realize ur not slick at this
boss bunny: AM TOO. >:(
— ✶
"He kept looking at his phone and then at you, like, every five seconds," Ten giggled, his shoulder absentmindedly brushing against yours as the two of you strolled side by side through the numbing cold night. Dinner had concluded just about half an hour ago, and while Kun ferried Doyoung and Seungkwan home, you and Ten decided to head down a few blocks to get milk tea and hang out.
You clapped your hands together in delight, your laughter lighting up the night. “That’s what I’m saying! He just wasn’t subtle about it and he kept arguing with me that he was.” You shook your head, tongue darting out to lick your lips, “It’s okay though. I think Dad Doyoung’s antics are charming.”
Ten grinned. “Dad Doyoung? I think he’s more of an uncle; ‘Dad’ is Kun’s title.”
“Fair enough.”
“Ayo, Ten!”
Both yours and Ten’s heads whipped upward at the sound of his name being called. You didn’t actually recognize the voice, but when you saw the lineup of four young men coming toward you from the opposite end of the street, you didn’t need to recognize it. Because, well, you recognized their faces.
Huh, you had been running into Changmin and his like a lot more often recently.
Heading straight for you was Changmin, Chanhee, Juyeon, and—you thought his name was Kevin. Kevin was the one who had called out to Ten, and he waved excitedly over to your friend. Based on Changmin’s not-so-subtle frown at Kevin, you could assume that this was not expected. Maybe he was going to advocate crossing the whole street to avoid you.
“Oh, hey Kev!” Ten greeted back cheerily, glancing at you beside him. “Do you know Kevin and Juyeon?”
You bobbed your head. “Briefly,” you replied. The two of your groups met in the middle, two blockades in the smack middle of the sidewalk. Impromptu meetups like this always seemed to end up clogging up the sidewalk for some reason.
After a swift greeting, Chanhee was already gesturing to the direction his group had already been headed in. “Hey, I’ll probably run up the street and get us a table. Haknyeonie says the tables fill up fast after eight o’clock.”
Juyeon perked up. “Oh, I’ll come with!”
Chanhee made eye contact with Changmin from across the group, and a silent form of communication passed between them. You watched this happen quietly, standing to the side with your hands tucked into your pockets while Ten and Kevin caught up from the last time they saw each other (apparently, it was a drawing and painting course from last quarter). However, instead of leaving with Chanhee and Juyeon, Changmin lingered with the three of you.
He naturally came to stand semi-close to you since he wasn’t exactly a part of the “drawing and painting” conversation. The frown from earlier had disappeared, though, and you didn’t know if you could call that a win or not.
Perhaps to you, the tension between the two of you was palpable. There were… far too many things up in the air at this moment, and it was nearly impossible for you to figure out just one thing to start with.
Plus, now was no time to get into all of that baggage. You needed to finish that intervention with Doyoung and Seungkwan before you could handle that kind of conversation—at least, that was what you would have preferred.
But for now, you found yourself clearing your throat and sparing him a glance. “Hey.”
Changmin’s eyes darted over to yours in ill-concealed surprise. “Hey.”
And that was that.
Luckily, Ten nor Kevin dragged on their conversation longer than it needed to be, and soon, you and Ten were passing by Kevin and Changmin as both parties went their separate ways. (You were going to pretend that you hadn’t looked back to watch Changmin walk away. Definitely not.)
“All good?” Ten asked, though, his voice was quieter than it had been before.
You could meet his eyes and nod. “Yeah.”
Ten followed up with an idle sort of humming noise, like he was one of those really loud computer fans (what in the world led you to think of that—?), “A few days ago, I kind of asked Changmin what the deal between the two of you was.”
“Oh?” Nervousness bubbled up the column of your throat. “What’d he say?”
He gave a shrug. “Something like a long-standing grudge.”
You let out a laugh that didn’t exactly sound like a laugh. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.” Was that how you would put it? In a way, that was what it was, but there was so much more to that, wasn’t there? Did Changmin think so little of what transpired between the two of you or was he just trying to deflect Ten’s interrogation?
The two of you had arrived at the tea shop by now, and Ten opened the door for you. The shop’s insides were warm and bright, and the tables were already filled up with fellow students who decided to hang out with friends on their Friday evening. You and Ten shifted over to the self-order kiosks to the side of the room and continued your conversation in low volumes.
“How would you put it then?” He asked. When you looked over at him, you realized that there was something scarily disarming about his eyes. “No pressure, of course. I mean, you can call me out on being nosy whenever; I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
You pursed your lips as you turned back to the screen to absentmindedly swipe down the page to find your preferred order. On the inside, you fought for the right words. “Changmin and I were best friends since we were kids,” you started, inputting your preferred level of sugar and ice like clockwork, “and we met through dance.”
Ten nodded to signal he was still listening, and the two of you swapped places so he could input his order.
You cracked your knuckles and rubbed your palms together to generate some kind of heat between them. “I didn’t really like dance at first. It was just one of those things my parents put me in to occupy my time after school and while they were working. But… well, you know how Changmin is with dance—it was and is his livelihood.”
“Even then?”
A nod. “Even then.”
When your orders were paid for, the two of you moved to a quiet corner of the shop to wait for your number to be called from the counter. You leaned your side against the wall next to Ten, your eyes staring blankly at a crack in the floor. “He was actually the reason I grew to love dancing,” you confessed. “As we got older and went into high school, sneaking out to practice together and performing together on stage became as easy as breathing air and as normal as…” You shook your head. “It was just a lot easier I think, back then.”
Ten tilted his chin toward you. “What happened between you two, Yn?”
You swallowed roughly. “In my first year of high school, my parents got divorced. I always suspected it would happen, but my mom kind of changed after that.” Your eyebrows crinkled as you recalled the memories of your early teenage years and tried to grapple with an adequate way to express them aloud. “And, to be fair, the more I danced, the more I didn’t want to focus on school work, but my mom became really hard on me about all that and I started to crack down on that stuff.
“Eventually, she got tired of taking me to dance practices and shows, and she blew up at me about how useless dance was going to be if I was going to become a doctor or something like that.”
Ten heard your number being called and nudged you to follow after him. He handed you your drink, and the two of you pushed back out into the chilly night. You didn’t really know where you were trying to go, but you didn’t really care. You both ended up in one of the small parking lots squeezed between two fast food restaurants, and you sat yourself down on the curb.
You continued, “And so, she would purposely forget to come home in time to take me to competitions and rehearsals. By the time I realized she wasn’t coming, I was already late every time. I would start walking myself there and taking the bus instead. Changmin started noticing that I was slacking, but I…”
“He didn’t know?”
“No.” You didn’t want him to know. Maybe it was your stupid pride that was preventing you from admitting that aloud. Maybe you were ashamed that your mom wasn't as accepting of dance as his parents were. You let out a shuddering breath and watched it come out in a visible puff in front of your face. “She made me grow spiteful toward dance,” you said stiffly. “I would be trying to stretch or practice movement in my bedroom while studying for exams, and she would come in and berate me.”
The yelling echoed in your mind, all too vividly. Your mother never physically hurt you, but there were still scars. “She’d discourage me from rehearsals or signing up for competitions by telling me I was nowhere near good enough, that dancing wasn’t going to put food on the table, and that I was—” A complete disappointment. You could pick those exact words out of a line up.
Ten’s eyes glistened with silver in the amber glow of the streetlight above you. “Jesus, Yn. I’m so sorry; that’s—that’s awful.”
You didn’t know how to accept the sympathy, even after having received so much from your other friends already. No matter how many times you retold your story, it was never quite right or in the way your brain wanted to portray it. You didn’t want to portray anyone as the villain; you figured that maybe you could have done something back then to prevent this. (You couldn’t have, actually, and that was the most difficult part to accept.)
“Yeah,” you murmured, setting your drink on the ground as you curled in on yourself slightly. “Anyway, by senior year, Changmin was obviously really into dance and was probably really stressed about auditions and end-of-the-year competitions. We basically… we basically took out our anger on each other. He said some things, I said some things. The rest is history.”
It was quiet for a moment as you let the words sink into the open air. Your chest loosened a bit after being able to tell another person about it, but for the most part, your hands still trembled. You reached for your drink again to take a sip and to force some kind of liquid down your throat.
After a while, Ten piped up, “Yn… I hope you know that you are not whoever your mother was trying to make you believe you were. You’ve probably realized that already—or maybe you’re still working on it—but please know that you’re probably one of the strongest people I know. It must have been really hard for you and I…” He exhaled, “Sorry, I’ve never been great at this.”
You sent him a small smile in return. “It’s okay; I still appreciate it.” After a beat, you added, “I know I act like I hate him, but I still want to see him succeed. I can’t think that ill of him, especially when he wasn’t the only one at fault.”
“Ah, that’s why ‘it’s complicated’, huh? I get that.”
“Yeah.” Your hands—god, if they could just stop shaking—
Ten reached over and covered your hands with one of his, and you let the heat of his palm warm yours. “You’re doing great, Yn. You know that, right?”
You couldn’t choke out an answer to that. You could only really say, “I just miss him sometimes.”
A sad smile. “I know. Maybe he does, too.”
You wanted to laugh, or maybe cry, at that. Anyone who got in the way of Changmin’s passions was no one to him. You would know exactly how that felt.
EPISODE SEVEN: [ROLLS RIGHT] OFF THE TONGUE
WHENEVER Changmin was feeling unsure of himself, he would retreat to his safe space: the practice rooms. Even if it was some time in the ungodly morning, like 2am as it was now, he would make the trek beneath molten gold streetlights and barren cobbled streets. It was the one place where he could focus his energy solely on dance, and forget about everything else.
Once upon a time, it had been your safe space just as much as it was his.
Changmin huffed a sigh as he hiked up the remaining flight of stone stairs that led up to the backdoor area of the performing arts building. It was a handful of hours since he and Chanhee parted ways with Kevin and Juyeon after enjoying dinner together. Chanhee was probably dead asleep by now—he was probably going to wake up and continue studying for his exams anyway.
As he turned to his right, his breath hitched as he caught sight of someone standing right outside the door. Usually, he had no trouble getting in and security wasn’t exactly strict in this area of campus. In fact, he almost never bumped into anyone, as strange as it sounded. Maybe he should have counted his blessings.
But then he recognized your jacket from earlier this evening, the very same one you were wearing while walking next to Ten—practically squished up against each other, two peas in a pod. He didn’t like how irked he was by that detail. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you had said “hey” first.
You weren’t looking at him, rather, your body was completely turned toward the door as if you were trying to decide whether or not you should go in. You were as still as a statue, frozen in time.
The moment, however, faded as quickly as it had come. You must have sensed his presence, and your head whipped around to face him.
There.
His heart leapt into his throat—dear god, why did you look so afraid? And then he noticed that you weren’t frozen still, but rather, channeling all your energy into keeping your body from trembling. Were you cold? What were you doing here so late? Why weren’t you with Ten?
He watched your throat move as you gulped. And then you were walking toward him—no, past him—wait, come back— “So that’s it?”
The grip he had on his duffle bag strap tightened when you stopped next to him just as you were going to walk past him toward the stairs. Your gazes clashed like a pair of twin lightning bolts slicing through the night sky. There had always been a sort of energy between the two of you, and when you were young, he had been so very attracted to that kind of power, one so similar to his… he didn’t think he was mistaken back then.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You said, still there. Your voice was low, but he could detect the edge.
He didn’t know what it was supposed to mean; he just didn’t want you to leave without knowing why you were here. Were you looking for him? “You’re not gonna say anything to me? Why are you here?”
(He swore it wasn’t supposed to come out that brusque-sounding, but he also didn’t know what it was supposed to come out sounding like…? He felt like he didn’t know you anymore.)
There was a narrowing of your eyes, and you both angled your bodies to face one another like a standoff. “No one said I had anything to say to you. And I—” You tripped over your words, “—I don’t know why I’m here. That’s why I was leaving.”
Oh.
Why was he disappointed by that answer?
“So you’re not here with Ten or something?” He asked, unsure what else he could say to keep you here, even for just a couple seconds longer.
Your mouth curled. "Clearly not. Why are you so pressed about me and Ten?"
Changmin pressed his lips together. "I'm not." Okay. Very believable.
The face you made said the same thing. "Okay, yeah. I didn't expect you to care so much anyway."
For a reason he loathed to admit, anger spiked in his blood and he felt the distinct need to defend himself. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know," you replied sarcastically, your volume rising, "maybe it's that you've never really cared that much about things that concerned me in the first place?"
"Now that's rich coming from you."
Your glare pierced his. "Oh, please. As soon as I started slacking—god, it took so little for you to just abandon me."
His jaw fell slack. Where the fuck did this conversation just turn to? "Abandon you? You abandoned me!" He exclaimed, finger flicking between the two of you as if he could impale both of your chests with the sharp edge of his accusations.
"How could I have possibly been the one to abandon you?" Your face contorted with so much more emotion than Changmin had ever seen from you over the past three years. Suddenly, he could see the underlying desperation and devastation hidden beneath the lines of bitterness and anger. His heart sank, but his blood still boiled and pumped. He couldn't get the distinctly awful hole in his chest to stop aching. He could remember exactly when you just stopped coming to practice with him. He could remember exactly the day he gave up hope.
"You—" you stammered, your hand flying to your throat. It was the same action he had seen from you just a few days ago while you were in the practice room. He recognized it as a habit of yours for when you were anxious or overwhelmed because your throat closed in on itself. If that wasn't enough to make him want to lay down his sword… "—you stopped caring. When did you stop caring? I just want to know."
Everything went silent for him, just for a split second. You thought… you thought he stopped caring? How could he ever stop caring about you? Wasn't that why he was so upset in the first place?
And when the world zapped back into play, he was sure his skin was ashen. His throat bobbed. "How could you think so little of me?"
Your forehead creased. "Little? Changmin, you were everything to me."
Dear heart—
You were shaking your head and taking a step away from him then. "You couldn't possibly understand."
Just like that, there was fire in his veins again. "That's because you never gave me a chance to understand!"
You threw a look back at him and again, he could read everything there like an open book, so much unlike the wall he had been met with all this time. "And I can say the exact same thing about you. If you think I kept things from you, Ji Changmin—" you said with the undertone of a snarl, so fierce that, as you turned on your foot to face him again, your breath came out like that of a dragon's smoke, "—then how much have you kept from me?"
His nostrils flared and his hands gestured wildly, vaguely—he pressed his palms to his eyes with a haggard sigh. "Why are you here, Yn?" He asked again, finally. He lowered his hands and took a step toward you. "Are you here just to pick a fight with me?"
You paused.
He watched you open your mouth, then close it.
You pursed your lips, finally murmuring, "No. I didn't come here for you."
For some reason, that hurt even more.
— ✶
The practice room was colder than it usually was.
Changmin kept the lights dim for the sake of his stinging eyes, and he dumped his duffle bag in the corner of the room before making a beeline for the aux cord for the speaker system. He hooked up his phone and opened up his music files, his forehead pressing against the cool mirror wall.
For a moment, he simply let his eyes flutter shut and his lungs to breathe.
You were long gone by now, and Changmin considered just going back to his apartment, but he knew he would just lie in bed awake for hours if he did.
When he opened his eyes, he swiped out of his music and instead went to a file kept deep down in the depths of his storage. He had purposely named it so it would remain at the absolute bottom of the list when alphabetized, and the pass code on it was supposed to dissuade him from accessing it.
Supposed to.
He punched in the four digits of your birthday and the lock clicked open to reveal a hefty file of video after video. There were photos of you, too, somewhere, but the videos were all at the top of the file because of their size. He didn't know what he was gonna do when his phone ran out of storage; he figured that when that day came, it would either be when you and he finally figured shit out, or he got closure and could delete them all.
He sighed.
His thumb hovered over one of the video files near the top, one where he could see your face in the thumbnail.
When he opened it, his younger face filled the screen. His tongue poked out from his lips as he carefully settled his phone against the wall next to yours as both of your phones recorded the run-through that was about to happen.
"Changminnie! Come on, I'm starting the song!" Your voice echoed against the practice room walls, and his laughter soon followed as he scurried into place next to you.
Changmin watched his younger self transform his expression into something more serious, while you had looked at him through the mirror and burst out laughing.
Younger Changmin broke his facade, the dimples in his cheeks deep, his smile bright. "What?"
You grinned back at him. "Sorry, sorry! Nothing; it's just interesting how you can just shift your facial expression like that."
"You have to practice like you perform though!"
"I know, I know. I just like your smile better, y'know?"
Changmin could see the hearts in his younger self's eyes. Jesus, had he really blushed that hard? Younger Changmin cupped the back of his neck bashfully. "Really?"
You punched his arm playfully. "Yeah. It's really pretty, Changmin. I thought I told you this before."
"Well yeah, but it doesn't hurt to hear it again—yah! Hey, I can bite back, you know—!"
Changmin's eyes shuddered as the familiar melody of the song flowed into his ears. He abruptly slammed his thumb down onto the pause button.
No, he couldn't stomach hearing it. Not when he could recall every move from memory and not when he had no partner to complement those moves. It just reminded him of the gaping hole in his chest and the emptiness of this room.
"Let's get to work, Changmin," he muttered to himself as he swiped out of the folder and back to his music files. He had an actual to-do list in mind, after all, and it did not include a dive into the forbidden folder. (No matter how much he needed to hear your voice again, for once, not arguing with him.)
EPISODE EIGHT: OFF THE HOOK
"HE'S been pissy all morning—"
Changmin suppressed a groan of frustration as he heard his friend's voices nearing the dressing room he was in. All morning, the performing arts building had been a madhouse, even worse than the night of the draft showcase. Everyone just decided to be here today, whether they were his fellow dancers trying to score a practice room, one of the prospective actors auditioning for a part in Hyunjae's best friend's thesis play, or one of the tech members trying to make sure everything worked behind the scenes.
Changmin had gone from room to room in an attempt to find an empty one where he could have some peace in working on his own. He would have just gone home at this point, but Chanhee was stressing over his own exams, so Changmin was stuck here.
So taking all of that into account, including the rough encounter he'd had with you a couple days ago, plus a lack of sleep and coffee—not the happiest squirrel on campus.
(How could you just drop a bomb like "You were everything to me, Changmin" in his lap and expect him not to think of anything else for days on end?)
The door to the dressing room he was hiding in cracked open, and all of the cacophony from the outside flooded in, as well as a crush of his friends.
"Don't you guys have class?" Changmin moaned, his hand coming up to rub his sleep-deprived eyes.
"Well, yeah, but this is much more fun," came Younghoon's teasing chuckle as he walked over to Changmin and clasped a hand on his shoulder.
Changmin made a face. "I just wanted some peace and quiet."
Sunwoo scoffed. "Peace and quiet? You've come to the wrong place, hyung."
"Yeah," Hyunjae added on, "might as well take a break for once and come watch auditions with us! HJ!Yn needs help judging people anyway."
Changmin cocked a brow at the blond. "You should call Chanhee for that then. Shouldn't you be out there, Younghoon?" He nodded toward the tall, lanky drama major present.
Younghoon shook his head, bouncing on the balls of his feet. How did he have so much energy? "Nope. I'm auditioning for a part, so she's gatekeeping me from watching."
Changmin turned from his friends slightly as he reached down for his phone that he had situated on top of the small bluetooth speaker he had the good sense to bring. Then again, maybe he should have just stuck to earbuds… whatever. He was too tired to care. Part of him wanted to add to the chaos anyway.
"What's her thesis play about again?" He asked no one in particular. Sunwoo waddled over to him and stole his phone right from his hands and began browsing through the music selection.
"It's a modern take of one of Shakespeare's plays: Much Ado About Nothing," answered Younghoon. "It was really funny actually, like the original play. Lots of matchmaking, lots of stupidity. I think they dump someone in a lake..."
Hyunjae perked up. "Oh yeah! That was probably my favorite part of the whole script."
Changmin chuckled. "I was expecting you to say something like 'the whole thing's my favorite because my best friend wrote it'."
"Oh, no, that still applies."
Changmin, Sunwoo, and Younghoon all exchanged knowing looks with one another. Mhm… so they thought. There were a few too many in their friend group who had interesting relationships with their other friends. Exhibit A: whatever the fuck was happening with Hyunjae and his.
Hyunjae caught their silent communication and furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"
Sunwoo snorted, but Younghoon was the one to drawl, "It's absolutely nothing."
Changmin pressed his lips into a cheeky smile, brushing the bangs from out of his vision. Hyunjae's lips quirked to the side in a frown, but didn't make any comment on it. It wasn't a new reaction from the group, by any means, but… oh well. That would be a tale for another time.
With that being said, Changmin followed the three of them out of the relative privacy of the dressing room and out into the hustle-bustle of the main backstage corridor. As soon as that dressing room was vacated, however, somebody was swift to occupy it. Changmin cursed inwardly; guess he wouldn't be able to come back to that room later.
With the switching of theater leadership over the past year (a changing of the guard, if you would, but with professors and sponsors), the management of the entire performing arts department was a mess and a half. There were a few stand-out graduate students and undergraduates who were keeping everything in check for all of the events happening over this year—like Hyunjae’s best friend, Lee Jihoon (a graduate student specializing in sound and music production), and Moon Taeil (a graduate who was a soloist in the chamber choir).
As the four young men made their way closer to the immediate backstage, the sound miraculously dulled down. The lights were a lot dimmer here, as the spotlights were turned toward the main stage. Changmin spotted a few people scattered throughout the backstage area with phones or folded script packets in their hands as they recited their lines to themselves, with some even making exaggerated facial expressions and grand hand gestures.
Hyunjae’s best friend was one of the up and coming director-screenwriter “prodigies” that the drama department championed. She was a year older than Changmin was, and he didn’t need to be a genius to know that there were a crowd of people vying for a role in her graduating thesis play. It must have been stressful as fuck, but he knew that she had a good head on her shoulders—
“—I’m gonna stop you right there.”
HJ!Yn’s voice resounded from the other side of the hefty velvet curtains separating the backstage from the main stage. Hyunjae made a show of pressing his index finger to his lips to signal his friends to be quiet—Sunwoo thus made a show of rolling his eyes (“Duh, we’re gonna be quiet.”). They all huddled to the side of the curtain and poked their heads out to see what was going on.
The university performing arts hall was likely one of the most magnificent places on campus. It featured a vast array of floor seating, while also boasting three levels of balcony seats. Changmin remembered once briefly learning the anatomy of the theater seating: the floor or nosebleeds, the slightly lofted box seats, the grand circle, loge circle, and upper circle—the gods. It was all very antiquarian, but it was a place Changmin had become quite familiar with over the years.
The director herself sat in the dimmed nosebleeds section, in the smack middle. Someone had dragged out one of those plastic, foldable tables for her to set her paperwork and a small, battery-operated lamp on top of.
Curiously, sitting next to her was none other than Bae Sumin, your new recruit.
Changmin straightened, accidentally bumping into Younghoon’s shoulder as he did. “Sorry,” he whispered.
Younghoon shook his head to say that it was all good, his hand lifted in acknowledgement.
“Did you know Sumin was here?” He asked his friend.
Younghoon’s expression was thoughtful. “I think so? I left to go find you when I thought I heard someone say they saw her come in. Why? Did she not tell you when the dance department interviews were gonna be held?”
Changmin recalled receiving no notice. “No. I—I figured Yn would be here, too, then. Right?” Was he ready to face you again so soon? Would you even acknowledge him this time—?
Younghoon passed him an amused glance with a small smile fitted over his face. “That would make sense,” he murmured with his arms crossed over his chest. One of his hands reached up to idly massage his jaw. “I’d imagine she would be with her friends, somewhere around here. Though, it would also make sense that she would be sitting with Sumin, too. Then again—”
“You are… no help,” Changmin deadpanned.
His friend chuckled lowly, eyes upturned into slim crescents.
“Uh Jihoon-ah?”
Changmin and Younghoon’s attention flitted over towards the far side of the backstage and they watched as a girl chased after the resident sound producer graduate student. He was, perhaps, smaller than one might anticipate from the intimidating man, but he still harbored so much scary energy and talent within his body. Like all of the staff on the technical team, the pair were clad in all black.
Jihoon glanced up from his clipboard and at the girl. “Hm?”
The girl nodded toward the curtains. “Director is calling for a break and is asking if the house lights can be turned on.”
“Ah okay, come on then. Follow me.”
As the two of them strode across the length of the backstage, the girl’s eyes found Changmin and Younghoon, and… She was looking past him now at someone else. She lifted her hand in a small wave, paired with a smile, “Hi, Sunwoo.”
Changmin whipped his head around, only to realize that Hyunjae had disappeared, but Sunwoo was now standing on Changmin’s other side. He watched in utter delight as his younger friend flushed, even in the dim lighting, at the girl’s greeting. His eyes were wide as he squeaked out a quick, “Hey!” in return.
When Jihoon and his charge had gone out of view, Changmin turned on Sunwoo with a hyena cackle. “Oh my god! Who was that, Kim Sunwoo?”
Sunwoo seemed to shrink into the collar of his hoodie. “No one.”
Changmin’s laughter lit up the room just as the house lights thunk-thunk-thunk’d to life. Younghoon had slipped away, most likely to meet Hyunjae in the nosebleeds, which left only the two of them there alone. “Do you have a crush on her?”
“Yah! You’re such a menace,” Sunwoo groaned, whacking Changmin with the extra length of his sweater paw. “You can’t even talk, dude! You’re in love with a girl who can barely stand to be in the same room—” Sunwoo realized his slip up and slapped a palm over his mouth.
Ouch. The truth hurt, didn’t it? Changmin chuckled, though it was noticeably quieter now. “Well, you’re not wrong—” He shook his head, eyebrows creased together, “—wait, no. Wait, I’m not in love with her!”
Sunwoo rolled his eyes so hard he must have seen his brain up there. “Oh, please. The last time you were drunk and emotional, you showed us that secret little folder in your phone.” He jabbed his finger accusingly at the phone in Changmin’s hand.
Changmin scowled, pressing his phone to his chest as if to protect it in case Sunwoo decided to have wandering hands. “That was told to you in confidence!”
“No, it was told to me in a drunken stupor—” The two of them began to make their way back toward the edge of the curtain, ducking out from its shadow and onto the main stage. Hyunjae and Younghoon were indeed in the nosebleeds now, but Sumin was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she had only been here to observe the audition process. “And you guys say I’m the lightweight.”
“That’s because you are the lightweight.”
Just as the two of them hopped down from the stage and onto the ground floor of seats, Juyeon came in from the doors located at the back of the seats. He raised a hand in greeting to all present, cheerfully waving with that golden retriever-esque grin. “Hey guys! Oh, Changminnie, I was just looking for you.”
Changmin’s eyebrows flew up. “Oh? What’s up, Juyeon?”
Sunwoo retreated into the rows up where Hyunjae and Younghoon were, while Changmin met up with Juyeon in the rightmost aisle.
Juyeon threw a thumb behind him toward the direction he had just come from. “Sumin was asking if you would be willing to do your interview right now.”
His eyes widened slightly. “Right now?”
“That’s what I just said, wasn’t it?”
Changmin pressed his lips together, before nodding. “Uh, for sure. Yeah, lead the way.”
The two dancers hiked their way back up to the back of the area and through the door Juyeon had originally entered through. The main lobby was much less crowded—it was practically barren, which made it the perfect environment to conduct an interview in. Sumin was setting herself up at one of the couches, setting her laptop, phone, and coffee cup on the coffee table opposite to her.
She raised her head when she heard the door open and close, and a bright smile graced her features. “Oh, you found him! Thanks, Juyeonie.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he chirped. “I’ve got a couple things to handle first, but just ask someone to come find me once you and Changmin are done.”
With Juyeon swiftly taking his leave, Changmin was left to take a seat on the other end of the couch that Sumin was sitting at. “Hey, nice to see you again, Sumin,” he said, crossing one ankle over the other and resting his arm along the back of the couch.
The corners of her smile widened. “Nice to see you, too, Changmin! Sorry this was so sudden; I figured that I could get started on some of the interviews while I was here.”
“Oh, yeah, no worries,” he chuckled.
She reached for her phone, fidgeting as she swiped to a simple recording application. “I hope you don’t mind me recording this…?” At his consent, she nodded. “Okay, cool. I did wanna say something before we started.”
He sat up just a bit. “What is it?”
There was a sort of twinkle in her eyes, and if he wasn’t mistaken, her manner became a lot more bashful all of a sudden. “I have to confess that I asked my mentor, Yn, if she could send me some of your dance performance videos and I’m literally in awe of your talent. Like, I wanted to tell you how starstruck I am just being able to tell you this right now, but I just wanted to say this before we started.”
He broke into a boyish grin at this, his dimples becoming craters of joy in the apples of his cheeks. “Ah, thank you—that really means a lot,” he smiled.
Sumin added on, one of her palms pressing against the couch cushion as she leaned toward him slightly, “I mean, I don’t even know how Yn was able to find videos of you from high school, but I’m so glad she did, because—”
Wait what. Changmin was watching Sumin’s mouth move as she talked but he wasn’t truly hearing what she said. His humble, albeit a bit dumbfounded, smile remained, but her words from just before resonated in his head. There were definitely a few of his dance performance videos online from his high school days, but did you keep links to them? Did you keep the recordings on your phone?
The fact that Sumin asked you meant that she probably had no clue about your past, only that you were the person Sumin could rely on if she had any questions.
What did it mean? What did it mean?
His heart pounded in his chest at the thought that maybe he could possibly have an excuse to get you to talk to him, even if it was one, truly dumbass excuse.
“—ready?”
Changmin snapped out of his dazed state. “Sorry?”
Sumin blushed slightly, clearing her throat. At some point, she had pulled her laptop onto her lap and prepped her phone by placing it in between the two of them to record the following conversation. “Are you ready to start?”
He coughed, straightening and adjusting his position. “Oh, yeah—uh, sorry. Yeah, whenever you’re ready.”
Sumin gauged his reaction carefully, but instead of pressing the record button, she hit the power button. “If I may, you seem a little distracted. I don’t really want this to feel like a burden if you’ve got a lot on your plate.”
Shit. “No, I mean,” he shook his head, “I’m sorry. I guess my mind just wanders really easily when…” He huffed a sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m a little tired, that’s all.”
“I totally get that,” she sympathized. “You’ve probably been practicing non-stop lately for the winter showcase. We don’t have to do this today if you’re not in the right headspace.”
He sighed and couldn’t help but feel just a little relieved. He needed to talk to Chanhee about this, math exam or dance practice be damned. But there was a part of him that definitely felt awful about having to cut off her interview even before it began. He gestured to her phone. “How about we reschedule? We could meet up sometime else during the week to redo this and I promise I’ll be all yours.”
He didn’t know what he did, but the pink on her cheeks deepened to a cherry red. “Oh, uh, sure!” She giggled, taking her phone and passing it over to him. “You can just put your phone number in there and I’ll text you to ask when you wanna meet up.”
Changmin nodded his agreement and swiftly inputted his contact information into the given slots. “Definitely,” he said before handing her phone back to her. The phone fumbled between the two of them, but Changmin was already standing up with the goal to go retrieve his bag (wherever it was), and to go consult Chanhee and the man’s infinitesimal opinions. “Really sorry again, Sumin.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it!” She dismissed his worries with a flick of her wrist. “Would you mind finding Juyeon, though?”
Changmin sent her a thumb’s up over his shoulder on his way to the door. “Yeah, for sure.”
She returned the gesture, watching as he disappeared out of the main lobby. It was only when he was definitely gone, she covered her mouth with her hand and stared at his saved contact in her phone. Then, with a silent scream of happiness, she ran to her text chain with you to tell you all about it.
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a/n: PLS STILL REBLOG THIS PART EVEN THO ITS NOT THE FULL THING PLS PLS PLS IM BEGGING
read part two here (also linked at top)
permanent taglist: @honeyhuii @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @ethereal-engene @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @justalildumpling @hyunjaespresent-deobi @hongyangi @pxppxrminty @nerdypastacalzonespy @jcmdoll @kflixnet
taglist: @oi-miya @loveliestfelix @sickvision @jaerisdiction @stealanity @magnificentjudementmoneyhands @inthesunnn @igotkpoopsss @letsnotdoanything @starryjww @sodafy @rreneeeeee @dajanxekiwi @sseastar-main @jenowithjaem @moonyswolf @sleepymoon27 @floatingpluto @fictionlover100 @winterchimez @softie00 @sseuyeon @qkyuscult @hwanunjin @zlebooks @mcu-incorrect @nctzennikki09 @hrt4cheol @moontyuns @quill-ink
413 notes · View notes
inglourious-imagines · 9 months
Note
practically begging for some george luz w/ enemies to lovers. everyone always writes amazing friends to lovers but there’s sm potential w e2l !!! love ur writing btw xx
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Jokes on You (George Luz x Fem!Reader)
Requested by: anon
Summary: George Luz is a funny guy, there is absolutely no denying that. He likes making jokes, and he likes it even more when people laugh at them. So what happens when there comes a person who makes just as good jokes as George? Or maybe even better? Some enemies to lovers for y’all.
Taglist: @alienoresimagines @teenmagazines @meteora-fc @eugenesmorphine @band-of-brothers-cz @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov @mrseasycompany @punkgeekchic @wexhappyxfew @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @rayofshanshine @mavysnavy @easynix @georgeluzwarmhugs @easy-company-tradition @immrsronaldspeirs @snafus-peckuh @curraheewestandalone @warrior-healer @justamadgirlinabox @happyveday @order-of-river-phoenix @whoahersheybars @nixoninc
Warnings: like two swear words, angst in the form of Bastogne
A/N: I so suck at endings.
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Cracking jokes and making people laugh is George’s thing and his only, that’s how it’s always been. He is the funny guy in the group, that’s how he likes to define himself, the funny one. But to define is to limit and George has made the mistake of limiting himself to clinging to one particular personality trait, humour.
And then Y/N came along; about four months into the boot camp Y/N got reassigned from Dog Company to Easy Company for reasons no one knew, except for Lewis Nixon perhaps. George did not start hating her per say right from the moment he met her, but ever since she beat him to the joke when watching his favourite movie he’s strongly despised her. From then on, the feelings only got stronger; she’s always making the whole Company laugh, some of the jokes even on his account which George does not like one bit, hell she even managed to make Blithe chuckle that one day after D-Day.
Y/N had no idea what she triggered by her naturally jokester nature until she had to face a very pissed off George after she blabbed some joke about some actress and then a very pissed off George is the only kind of George she has had the privilege of meeting. The woman has pondered greatly about what she could have possibly done to anger the man so, but nothing came to mind and she soon gave up. George continued and stubbornly continues to be rude to her so she should only repay his “kindness”.
After Carentan, the word of Operation Market Garden is in the air and the Allies are particularly optimistic. Easy is in the pub, celebrating its successes in the war, while some reinforcements are trying to mingle. Y/N is watching it all from behind, the old breed not wanting to socialize with the newbies at all and sometimes the situations can get truly hilarious.
Somehow, in a few minutes, she finds herself behind a table with Luz, Malarkey, Muck and other three reinforcements who are just drinking up George’s story about his valour in Normandy. Her lips itch upwards from now and then, George’s drunkenness making it all the more amusing. Y/N can tell the new guys are impressed and somewhat terrified as well and one of them puts a pin on it when he asks Luz, “And what rank are you?”
The table sits in silence for a moment, for absolutely no one expected such question, not even the other reinforcements, then Malarkey and Muck burst out laughing, almost tipping over their beers.
Y/N chuckles, reaches over, and pats the guy’s arm. “Oh c’mon, it is Private!”
That absolutely finishes off Don and Skip, Skip eventually falls off his chair, the reinforcements are now laughing too; the mood slightly more friendly and at ease than before. Not for everyone though.
George is red to his ears, as he frowns. “The joke wasn’t that good. And it’s not even true.”
Donald is hiccupping now but manages to answer, “A- a bit c- corny, yes, but f-fucking b-brilliant.”
***
At this point the Company is divided into two parts only, one part bets on the two of them killing each other and the other parts bets on them fucking; which it will be is truly in the stars for George and Y/N are face to face again, both of them red in the cheeks from all the anger, both of them shouting some incoherent insults, and as Penkala has put it, “See? Honestly I can really see both happening. They will either kill each other or fuck, there is absolutely nothing in between.”
But then Market Garden happens, an underestimated operation, that leaves behind too many dead than it should and when all of Easy is boarded on trucks, retreating, the company is two people short.
Bull Randleman and Y/N Y/L/N.
The officers discuss what can be done, and despite all of the men wanting to go and save the two of the best soldiers in the company, they know they can’t. And exactly that is making George Luz lose his mind. He can’t really understand why he is so restless, anxious, and downright terrified throughout the whole night; he tosses and turns, he is not able to bring himself to close his eyes.
But then in the morning he sees Y/N on the jeep next to Bull and suddenly he feels like he could fly and go to Berlin and kill Hitler, just so he could see the carefree smile on her face.
It clicks in him just then, and Malarkey pats his shoulder. “So, you’ve finally figured it out, huh?”
George turns to him, confused. “What?”
Malarkey laughs, shaking his head, and says, “Don’t play dumb with me, you idiot, I saw it just now.”
As much as George would like to answer his friend, he truly has no idea what he is talking about, and when that dawns on Donald, he offers George a sympathetic smile.
“Okay, let me put your thoughts to words, ‘cause you’re such an oblivious idiot that you probably wouldn’t figure it out by the time this motherfucking war is over,” Malarkey continues, “you don’t hate her, do you, not really.”
It is not even a question, more of a statement, and George really wants to protest, more than anything, because it is ridiculous, right?
***
The plan to be home by Christmas isn’t really working out for the Allies but the soldiers of Easy Company have already forgotten about those false hopes, they aren’t the ones to be bothered with when you freeze your ass off in a foxhole in the middle of a forest where the trees blow up every now and then and the place becomes a tornado.
Y/N shares a foxhole with Muck and Penkala, the trio trying to lighten up their gloomy moods with laughter. But even Y/N is running out of jokes now, so when doc Roe runs up to them, asking for scissors, she’s more than happy to go look for them with him too, the need to stretch her stiff and frozen body overpowering her whole self.
She’s just a couple of meters away from her foxhole when another German artillery attack comes and the whole forest becomes a hurricane of explosions, splinters, and blood. The soldier throws herself to the ground, crawling her way, slowly, back to her foxhole, Muck and Penkala shouting something at her she can’t hear, encouraging her to hurry up.
Dirt is everywhere, she barely can see, she covers her ears and head with her hands as another hit comes; she continues right after the explosion, crawling, crawling, crawling.
Muck and Penkala are still shouting at her, she is getting closer; Y/N can hear another artillery attack coming but this time she doesn’t stop proceeding, she knows she has to get into the foxhole soon, so she keeps on pushing.
The explosion comes. Everything goes white for a moment. The pressure wave makes her stop moving, and she is forced to close her eyes and cover her head with her hands.
She opens her eyes. There is nothing.
Seconds ago, there were two people, now there is nothing, nothing left, not a single trace that there have ever human beings stood.
Y/N can’t bring herself to move, she stares blankly into the space before her, her limbs are stiff. But then some arms grab her body, she can hear someone shouting at her.
3 seconds. That’s all it takes her to get back. She holds on to George’s arms as they run together to another foxhole, jumping right in. He immediately brings her into his body, she wraps her arms around his torso instinctively, holding onto him so tight, her head resting on his chest. George shields her body from everything outside and when the bombing finally stops, they don’t let go of each other for another few moments.
It isn’t until a few years after the war and they are married to each other, when they finally talk about what happened that day in the forest of Bois Jacques, not a day sooner. Ever since then, their relationship has been changed, both very much aware of it, neither of them brave enough to bring it up just yet.
It is in Haguenau, where they finally share a conversation. George finds her on her own, behind some building, hiding behind some sacks, looking at the river. He throws a Hershey bar into her lap and when she looks up in confusion, he offers her a warm tired smile.
“What did I do to deserve the affection of the one and only George Luz?” she tries to crack up a joke and chuckles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. George knows Y/N is exhausted beyond words.
He sits down next to her, as he opens his mouth to say something, but he rethinks it in the last second and nothing comes out. They sit out there for a few minutes, sharing the silence and strangely enough, it feels nice. George finally does not feel the need to talk all the time, the need to prove himself funny or worthy of other people’s attention.
“Have you ever been to Rhode Island?” he suddenly blurts out, surprising himself and her at the choice of the question.
Y/N smiles, doesn’t ask why or what. “No, never.”
“Then come with me.”
This time she asks what.
“After the war I mean, come home after the war with me.”
“But- but, you-“ she stutters, her cheeks slightly red, “but you hate me.”
George chuckles at that and looks at her. She has bags under her eyes that are a bit bloodshot (she hasn’t slept much in the last few days), her hair is dirty from dirt and sweat, her face has several scratches and marks, his eyes finds the most visible one just below her left cheekbone (he recalls that day in Carentan when a piece of shrapnel hit her and the wound looked way worse then it actually was for she had blood all over her left side of face, freaking out silently has never been so hard – he hadn’t known at that time what will come). He has never seen anything to maddeningly and purely beautiful as her.
“I thought I did, a very long time ago,” he says, “but actually I never did. I don’t hate you. How could I?”
Y/N looks at him and through all the pain, horror, and grief, she feels peace. It surprises her.
And so she responds, “Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Okay, I will come home with you. How could I not?”
169 notes · View notes
wannabegwenstacy · 1 year
Text
Eden's Favorite Scoups Tumblr Fics
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updated: 5/2/2023
A/N: check out the full svt fic recs masterlist for some of the other members. warning i'm a baby carat so its not super full yet and i currently have only some members posts created currently. will be updating with more fic recs periodically. :)
A/N: Also, I don't have a lot of fics linked yet. :( Will continue reading and updating periodically.
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⇣Below cut⇣
Terrifyingly Innocent by @twogyuu
Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader
Genre: Fluff, angst, fake dating, slowburn, older brother’s best friend!Seungcheol, badboy!Seungcheol, innocent!reader, older brother!Jihoon, non-idol!au, university!au, low-key Crazy Rich Asians!au (Seungcheol is RICH - implied chaebol lifestyle, Jihoon and reader's family aren't chaebols and are commoners but well-off)
Warnings: PG-13, specific warnings will be listed per chapter.
Summary: Fearful of losing her, yet unwilling to leave; this agreement between Seungcheol and his best friend’s little sister was meant to be casual and temporary, yet he finds himself growing more attached to her day by day.
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push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow
Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader
word count: 50,301
genre: smut (18+), enemies to lovers, camboy au, angst (with a happy ending)
Warnings: adult language, excessive use of petnames, copious amounts of banter, e2l antagonism/shenanigans, camboy!cheol, strength kink, size kink, blink and you miss it sir kink, reader likes being a brat and cheol is into it, brief discussion about/hints of potential sexual power dynamics (but they're pretty tame imo), two instances of ass-swatting, mutually consensual possessiveness, semi-public touching, explicit sexual content: masturbation (m. and f.), manual stimulation (m. and f. receive), oral sex (m. and f. receive), protected and unprotected sex + creampie.
Summary: thirsting over your ex’s best friend in general is a bad idea. given that you and seungcheol have never gotten along, it’s even worse. when you accidentally stumble across his stream, though, and he finds out? all bets are off.
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baguette by @bwinnies
Pairing: choi seungcheol x reader
Wordcount: 1.2k
Warnings: FLUFF , some cursing , food is mentioned (they’re in a grocery store) , seungcheol may make u kinda weak ngl
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FINE DINING 101: STEP ONE (s.c) by @ncteez
Pairing: seungcheol x afab reader 
Wordcount: 3.6k
Warnings: pussy eating (he gets in there), masturbation in the form of humping the mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, there isn’t any penetration or anything but like– maybe in a part two they can actually do more??? idk it depends on if y’all want a part two.
Summary: Is it weird that no man has ever given you some good head and your best friend is a bit annoyed by that? Probably not. Is it weird that he offers to eat you out after a particularly bad date? Oh yeah, for sure. You’re still gonna let him though. 
or the one where seungcheol proves to you just how good he is at giving head.
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Remind Me by @milfgyuu
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!Reader
Wordcount: 2.7k
Genre: fluff, humor
Warnings: mc gets drunk, cheol sleeps in underwear only (u can fight me on this), like one (1) unintentional innuendo.
Summary: You’ve had a little too much to drink at your sister’s wedding and can’t understand how or why Choi Seungcheol of all people is assigned to babysit you.
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ice cold, cabin fever by @smileysuh
Pairing: Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader
Rating: 18+ explicit
Wordcount: 25.9k
AU's: e2l, s2l, step brothers Jihan, non idol, ski resort, roomies, etc...
Warnings: threesome, daddy issues, mean/tsundere cheol, wet dreams, spanking, marking, dirty talk, choking, unprotected sex, pain kink, dacryphilia, breast play, praise, degradation, fingering, oral, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, size kink, cumplay, finger sucking, spit roasting, hair pulling, voyeurism, | petnames: (hers) princess, bitch, whore, baby (s.coups) cheol, douche, dick, daddy (mingyu) gyu.
Summary/Preview: "come on, let’s just go back to snakes and ladders and you can pretend we’re not snowed in with no firewood and a dude you hate locked in the bathroom."
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inflection point series by @lovelyhan
Pairing: jeonghan x reader x seungcheol
Wordcount: 6.3k + 8.3k + 7.6k
Tags: unresolved emotional tension, friends to lovers on the hannie side of things, lovers to exes to enemies to lovers again on the cheol side of things, established relationship, angst, smut
Warnings: | pt.2 : implied alcohol consumption, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!) | pt.3 : graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)
Summary: you love yoon jeonghan. no, scratch that. you fucking adore yoon jeonghan; so much that the moment he asks you to be in an exclusive set-up with his current partner, you accept the offer in a heartbeat. what you fail to consider, however, is who your boss’ boyfriend actually is.
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Bite That Lip | One-Shot (Seungcheol) by @beahae
Pairings: Seungcheol/S.Coups x Reader(f)
Rating/genre: M18+, friends-with-benefits to ???; smut 💖, mild angst/fluff
Word Count: 6.3k
Warnings: Explicit smut, unprotected vaginal penetration, spanking, dom!Cheol and sub!reader, finger sucking, Cheol and Mingyu both lift and carry reader, reader wears workout clothes (sports bra, leggings), sorta sweaty sex, creampie, degradation, kind of breeding kink (depends what you consider a breeding kink to be), reader is referred to as ‘brat’ and ‘a hole’, pet name ‘baby’, begging, possessiveness/jealousy but it’s like hot and not crazy in my opinion, reader is a tease and brat but only before the smut lol
Summary: Seungcheol knows you're really close with his whole friend group. But now that things have... quietly been developing between the two of you, he would love it if you'd cool it with the heavy flirting with the other guys.
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in the eye of the beholder by @cheolism
Pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader
Wordcount: 6.2k
Tags: boyfriend!cheol, dom!cheol, possessive cheol. wall sex, fingering, oral; unprotected sex. worshipful sex. cheol's crude mouth, dirty talk. crying during sex from pleasure, mating press, spitting, hair pulling, consensual choking (just a little). pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart, angel, pretty girl, beautiful). simp seungcheol, his real spending addiction. he's going to tell you you're beautiful until you believe it.
Warnings: MDNI. fat/chubby!reader, insecurity, internalized fatphobia, anxiety. mentions of fatness, stretchmarks, love handles.
Summary: when you don't like how you look in the mirror, your boyfriend decides to take it upon himself to worship you.
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F*ck, Marry, Kill: With the Experienced by @bitchlessdino
Pairing: fem!reader x ex!mingyu x seungcheol x wonwoo
Genre: smut
Wordcount: 5.6k
Tags: poly, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, pet names (princess), unprotected sex (except cheol), praise kink, spanking, clit slapping, fingering, oral (rec. and giving), u, pussy slapping, ass play, triple penetration
Summary: one dumb party game makes a comeback.
384 notes · View notes
starseungs · 2 years
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➳ cruel summer. lmh
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• pairing: lee know x gn!reader
friendships can break. some even turn into enemies. that was a fact you unfortunately knew all too well.
• genre: angst with happy ending, fluff(?), longing (idk how to call that), childhood friends to enemies to lovers, slight college au, dancer!minho & y/n — 2.9k words
• warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, minho and y/n insult each other bcs its e2l
• note: #2 on my skz as types of childhood friends to lovers series | i swear not all fics in this series are mainly angst;; anw if you havent already noticed from the title, yes this is inspired by taylor swift's cruel summer^^ a small spin on the lyrics if i must say... cause summer isnt even the main setting in this-
ⓒ written by starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.
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Lee Minho was a menace in your life. You will never understand how he does it. Despite being a fairly normal (and by normal, you may or may not have meant that there was nothing going on for him) guy, he had a major talent for getting under your skin and igniting peeves you never even knew existed until he himself did it. At one point, you thought maybe your peeve was just Minho himself, instead of the actual action. After all, even the act of talking annoyed you greatly whenever it was his voice you heard echoing through the area. Fortunately, though, it wasn't like you were the only one being an absolute asshole—
—Minho disliked you with a passion as well.
If you were given a penny for every moment you both had some sort of argument, verbal or non-verbal, you'd surely be able to buy a house. And a penny isn't even that much to begin with. When asked, anyone who knows both you and Minho will probably give the same answer: put both of you in a room to do something, one says a single word, and hell breaks loose. The formula was pretty straightforward and simple, really. Everything was a fight between you two, and neither you nor Minho liked to lose. You'd think that being like-minded people would make you friends rather than enemies, and even you were surprised at first.
Because it wasn't always like this with Minho. 
You don't exactly remember where it all went wrong, but all you do know was that somewhere along the way, Minho went from being your whole life to a person you could hardly stand to be in the same room with for more than ten minutes—constantly getting on each other's nerves; waiting for someone to break first and admit defeat. Making the whole thing even more frustrating was that the two of you knew each other a bit too well; a result of the deep friendship you both once cherished above all else.
Childhood friends. That was the category you begrudgingly acknowledged both of you fell under. What were once two inseparable children who refused to stay away from each other for more than a day. The friends who were seen as a package deal, even despite never being in the same class in the entirety of your elementary school years. Your families were even really close at one point—close enough where you could guess your mothers made a bet about the two of you's relationship. But just like an unexpected plot twist, all of those happy memories were washed down the drain along with your friendship with Minho.
You still remember how it started—a seven-year-old boy defending you from a rude classmate of yours back in first grade. It was when said classmate made fun of you for having cat-designed supplies (which, mind you, were actually really cute) that he considered was "lame" and "childish". As if he wasn't also a literal child at that time. Minho slid into the scene to show them a piece of his mind just before you were about to start crying, feeling humiliated and offended by the other boy's words. He defended you, or well, your appreciation for cats, with such conviction that you almost fell for him right then and there. You were really into the idea of romance back then. The whole thing was too petty for you to think of now, but back then, Minho was your knight in shining armor.
Friendship with Minho sailed smoothly from there. He approached you immediately after your rude classmate decided to leave you both alone, not seeing the fight as worth it anymore (good for him, you guessed.) Both of your interests in cats were something that bonded you two at the speed of lightning, earning you your first friend outside of relatives around the same age. He was your best friend for so long that the separation seemingly came out of nowhere, just the week before middle school started.
At first you didn't think much about it; you knew it was normal for childhood friendships to fall out around one's teen years, since it was the time where one would be meeting new people—but the more you thought about your everyday life without Minho, the more you missed him. Even more so that there was no actual reason for you two to suddenly act as if the other never existed, you just somehow came to the conclusion that this was supposed to happen one day. Who knows, it could have been teenage issues.
But then the radio silence turned into a chaotic battlefield in the blink of an eye. You got into dance around your second year of middle school and decided that your next course of action was to join your school's dance club. At the time, you were well aware that Minho was already a member of that club since his first year and thought it would have been great to reconnect with him there. Don't get you wrong through, you swore you didn't get into dance because of him. It totally wasn't because you loved seeing him have fun during performances that you wanted to try it out for yourself. Still, you had high hopes of joining this club—except that hope was shattered not even a week in.
"Look, we all know you're new to all this, but would it be too much for you to keep up?" You remember his harsh words like it was just yesterday. Oh, how you wanted to punch him so badly that day. The same week you joined, the club had an upcoming performance for the school assembly, and the current captain figured it wouldn't be a harm to add you in at the last minute. After all, they were still just in the middle of learning the routine and had about two weeks left until showtime. The other members seemed to agree too, seeing as you were the only new member and it would be such a waste to leave you aside. All except one person.
Now, you don't know what got into Minho's breakfast that morning during practice, but he targeted you throughout the whole day. It hurt your pride, of course—especially seeing that even the first years made mistakes during practice—but you were the only one he scolded. Sure, you had less experience than he had at this club and dancing in general, but you two were literally the same age! There was absolutely no reason to be this pissed, even if you did join a month after the year one recruits were brought in. Your dancing didn't suck either, you knew that much. As new as you were to the world of dancing, you knew you had good potential and a decent natural talent for it. How would you get into this club in the first place if you didn't? They had a whole screening process and everything. So there was only one logical reason for Minho's attitude towards you:
Hate. Lee Minho hated you.
Why? How would you know? But if he was going to be like this, then you surely wouldn't go down without a fight. If he thinks you're still the timid seven-year-old who couldn't even stand up for themselves at a mere childish insult, then your six years of friendship with him was a joke, because you've clearly changed since then. It was then that you swore you'd make him acknowledge it, even through the hard way. And you certainly did slap him in the face the following year when you became vice captain alongside him, despite the fact that it was only your second year. That wasn't good news to Minho, though—so as one would expect, your infamous arguments continued. The rest is history.
"If you're going to be like this, I'm asking for a new partner," Minho scowled at you venomously from the dance studio's speakers, pausing the song to rewind it back to the start. "Even if I have to beg our professor, it would be so much better than screwing up the final project because of you."
Wow, that one hurt. You inwardly winced at his ice-cold comment, feeling a small stab at your chest. His insults may have become dull to you over time, but that didn't mean you were unaffected by them. Never did you think you'd end up here: doing your semester's final project with Minho. Actually, you never would have guessed you'd go to the same college—let alone in the same major! As if enduring his presence for five years in middle and high school wasn't enough, he just had to still be there just when you thought you'd be able to turn over a new leaf. But no; along with his mere existence at your university was your thick tension-filled rivalry with him, and everyone was quick to catch on.
Never put Y/N and Minho, although both dance majors, in the same room. 
Unfortunately, your professor seemed to have missed the memo—because he broke that unspoken rule when he announced the partners for the final project a week ago. Shameless gasps filled the lecture hall as all pairs of eyes snapped towards your and Minho's horrified ones. This was going to be a long two weeks, you remembered groaning in annoyance.
"Then do it," you spat strongly at him. "Tell him you can't accept it whenever shit doesn't go your way. Grow up, will you?" Minho only kept quiet and didn't say anything back to you for the rest of the day after that.
Thankfully, you two managed to complete the project with flying colours with the help of some heavenly deity (because there was just no way you two managed to achieve this much together on your own.) You stared cautiously as Minho handed you a bottle of your favourite drink. This was a new scene, his head hanging low in the glow of the vending machine underneath the dark sky. If you asked yesterday's you if there would ever be a time where you were caught in an intimate setting with Minho after all those quarrels, you would have said no. But here you were, facing him in the quiet of the night.
Vulnerable words were exchanged that night, minds finally understanding each other for the first time in years. Minho knew he was being a dick to you. He knew and yet did nothing to fix it. You were better off without him anyway. He wasn't a knight, and he would never be. Even if he saw himself through your eyes back then, his mind wouldn't change. Minho noticed early on that you were made to achieve heights he could only dream of—a fact he could never forget because everyone around him was saying the exact same thing. And as your best friend, that made him so proud. On the contrary, he was somewhat plain. At first he wanted to continue sticking by you because he thought he'd be influenced to do better; but the opposite happened and he was starting to influence you instead. That scared Minho, and the unknown pressure he personally put on himself made it seem ten times worse than it actually was—which, mind you, should not have been something he became anxious over. 
He also knew it was stupid to cut ties with you so suddenly, but this was a chance for the both of you to start over a new life and live in the bubbles you both rightfully belonged to. That was why he felt like his perfect world was shattered when you found your way back to him through the dance club. What were you doing here? When did you even start liking dance? Was that because of him too? He wanted you to turn around and leave immediately. Yet the more he pushed you away, the more the thought of you kept crashing into his mind, not showing signs of leaving even in the dead of night. Minho was growing feelings, and he despised himself for it. So he did what he apparently was best at—continuing to make you hate him. His wishes for your happiness were the same reasons why you ended up having the worst time of your life with having to deal with his attitude towards you, all the while Minho was too busy trying to push you away to notice you were hurt by his actions too. Strong emotions can make you do idiotic things. He finally came to his senses on the day you filmed your project together, after days of thinking through what you had said to him back in the dance studio. 
You didn't accept his apology. Even if he was sincerely sorry about it, there was no excuse for how he acted towards you. But that wasn't the reason why you refused to take his apology; it was because you had things to apologise for too. Minho wasn't the only one who had said and done less than kind things throughout this whole ordeal, so you agreed to be on civil terms. Your semester ended with a clean cut between the relationship between you and Minho.
Summer was boring, to say the least. You decided to go back and spend the break with your family in your childhood home. The neighborhood brought back fond memories; some of which were of little you and Minho hanging out after class. Speaking of him, you heard he came back home too—his house only a few down the road from yours. But it's not like you could just visit him anyway. You two were basically strangers now. Not even enemies or rivals. And maybe it hurt more than you thought it would because you found yourself missing his voice at random times of the day (even if his voice in your memories was mostly frustrated and annoyed.) In the living room, you often glanced at the door in hopes that maybe he would come and visit. It was driving you crazy. 
You never thought of liking Minho romantically, but this cliched progression of events was seemingly proving you otherwise. To be fair, there's a chance that what you were feeling was just seeking for what was normal, but either way, it didn't change the fact that it still bothered you. Luckily, your high school class' get-together was the next day, giving you the chance to drink and forget, even just for the night.
Yeah, that party did not go as planned.
What was up with everyone looking for Minho? You weren't even in the same class back then! He wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. Frustrated, you decided to take a shot every time someone mentioned his name in front of you and ended up fairly drunk out of your mind. That must explain why you found yourself sitting in front of Minho's family house in the middle of the night with blurry vision, either from the tears that were threatening to spill or the alcohol. A click from the front door took you out of your thoughts, only to see a shocked Minho staring at you with wide eyes.
"Why the fuck are you here?" He asked, rushing over to lift you up from the ground. "Are you drunk? You smell like alcohol! Let's get you home." Minho placed your arm behind his shoulders and moved to drag you back to the sidewalk. You kept your feet glued to the ground as firmly as you could.
He looks at you with expiration. "Come on, Y/N. Don't make this difficult for the both of us, yeah? Your parents must be looking for you too." You kept quiet, the words you wanted to say stuck in your throat, unable to spill out although you really wanted them to. "Y/N? Did something happen?"
Fuck it.
"I miss you, Minho," you said in a whisper, feeling too weak to go any louder. "I missed you back then, and I still miss you now." Your soft cry froze him in his tracks. His silence was deafening, and you were left assuming the worst. It wouldn't be wrong for him to reject you like this. After all, you had just decided on closing your friendship for good around a week and a half ago, and what you've been feeling for him was still relatively new. Bracing yourself for the words that would probably leave you moping in your room for the remainder of summer break, you opened your eyes to look back at him. 
And there he was, staring at you with so much emotion you couldn't take in.
"And so you do," he says back, just as softly. "If I say I missed you too, what would you want me to do?" 
You felt the sharp shards of ice that were stabbed in your heart from the years of fighting with Minho slowly melt away. There was only one answer to that question. 
"Kiss me." He sighs in content at your answer and pulls you closer, lips so close yet barely touching. 
This little shit. 
You grabbed his collar to close the gap, your lips crashing together as you felt sparks fly, illuminating the place in a light only you two could see. He pulls away slowly after a few seconds, grinning at you like a devil.
"Don't you dare regret this in the morning."
What a cruel summer.
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